#<< that was a bit of a freudian slip sorry grace is what i think mrs everdeen’s name is

[solar-halos]

i’m in such a mr and mrs everdeen mood. do we as a fandom have any collective hcs for them

[woongisi]

Freudian Slips // Kim Taerae

switch!Kim Taerae x switch!fem!Reader // SMUT, some angst & fluff

WC// 5.9k

Synopsis// Taerae tried to stay respectful and ignore the fact he wanted his cock down your throat. Sometimes, his own thoughts betray him.

Warnings// angst, name calling, yelling, pussy eating, porn w/ (some) plot, "good girl", nipple play, marking, cumming in pants, blowjob, best friends to lovers

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"Tae, I'm getting hungryyyyy."

The two of you had been on the floor in front of the couch, compromising comfort in many regards. Your head had been resting on Taerae’s lap for some number of hours while he watched whatever shows graced the food channels of the tv. You didn't mind, it was quiet sans the occasional chit chatting or his gentle humming when he decided it was a bit too silent.

Truthfully, Taerae’s focus on the tv was less out of interest and more out of necessity. Sure, he loved watching the guys in the shows travel the world to try new restaurants and making notes of ones he would likely never visit. Unfortunately for him, the proximity of your face to his groin and the gradation of light across your face bothered him more than he was willing to admit to himself. He couldn't look at you long enough for his mind to begin to wander or he knew he'd risk making you uncomfortable. Had he done that, Taerae would've left, screamed into his pillow, and dedicated his life to solitude.

“Dude, you have to quit watching these before I’ve had dinner.” You groaned and pulled yourself to an upright position much to Taerae’s simultaneous relief and disappointment. “I feel like I’m gonna die.”

“Well what have you been into lately?”

You pondered for a moment, beginning to spout off all the dishes you'd made and places you'd been that really hit the spot. Unintentionally egging on a discussion of the world’s many varieties of food for the next 10 minutes.

Once your stomach twisted again, you slammed your fist against the coach and shushed him. “Ok. Enough. My stomach is digesting itself. So… what's for dinner? I'm down for whatever.”

“You.”

Taerae had spoken without a single prior thought, far too lost in the depths of his brain filled with food and… lust.

The confused and conflicted face you hit him with was enough to bring realization to what he'd just said. The poor boy’s heart dropped with his face red hot in embarrassment.

“I- I meant… I meant you can decide! I'm… I'm also down for whatever…!” He was already preparing to get up and leave on the assumption you'd want him to.

“Taerae. What the fuck is wrong with you?” Your initial reaction was to snap at him. “Seriously, ask yourself if that was appropriate, at all. Are you really just as sex depraved as every other guy?” You shoved your face into your hands. “Jesus Christ, dude.”

You almost caught yourself off guard with your own reaction. First and foremost you'd felt violated and angry… which hadn't yet begun to subside.

“I'm sorry- Really, I didn't mean-” Guilt sat heavy on Taerae’s mind, hurt, but feeling the reaction was what he deserved after all.

“Shut up. Just… just quit. All you men are the same. Forgive me for even trying. Or.. or wasting my time. Or yours. Whatever the hell we've been doing! Half a decade with you for this?” Deep down you knew you were being too harsh. You just weren't willing to get hurt again. A history of shitty men catcalling you, all your male friends ending up just wanting you for sex, just overall sleaze left you defensive.

Taerae remained silent, unable to form any words with sharp tears pricking at his eyes. By now he'd already backed up and moved to his knees, beginning to stand up.

“It's embarrassing, honestly. For you. I truly can't wait for the day I’m more than a damn hole to people.” You continued your rant, yet to notice the fat tears that had started rolling down Taerae's cheeks. “Quit thinking with your dick! I didn't think you were like that. It's just fucking disgusting. Why do I try anymore, Taerae you- you…”

Your eyebrows furrowed in surprise when his shame was no longer capable of being ignored. He slumped back to his knees in defeat, choking back cries, something that often failed and led to a weak sob. “I'll go… maybe you're right. I- I'm sorry again. I just…. just… never mind. You can block my number if you want…” Nearly every other word was interrupted with a sniffle or painfully restricted heave of his chest.

Your gaze fell more softly upon him. You hated to admit he… kinda looked pretty like this. “No,” you huffed and frowned with the awful knowing feeling that set deep in your chest, reaching to rest a hand on his knee. “I'm the one that should-”

Taerae cut you off sharply, “No!” He flinched back from your touch as if even coming in contact with you would kill him. “It's my fault I-”

“God, shut up!” Your voice raised again which did, indeed, shut him up.

You'd known Taerae for a number of years now. You'd just graduated college together, and had met him when he transferred to your high school in your senior year.

Back then you didn't see him for at least two weeks but you always heard murmurs about some new kid. You shared no classes, but word spread fast. A new kid is a new kid, your graduating class hadn't had one in years. Rumors were pretty mild compared to the usual gossip. The new kid was too quiet, the new kid came from overseas, the new kid was kinda hot but not really their type. Too nice and too passive. You knew from the start you wanted to meet him one day.

During the first fire drill of the year, you did. An unfamiliar face caught your eye in the grouping adjacent to yours. He was looking straight to the ground, fidgeting with the silver ring on his left pinky. It seemed like it spun. Most of the other kids were on their phones or talking, the teachers had given up on quieting them down pretty quickly.

You had snuck into his group, greeted a couple classmates you know alright, and placed yourself right in front of him.

“Hey, are you the new kid? Tae… Taetae? Raerae…?”

He had looked up from the ground with a small startle and nodded shyly. “Uh… Taerae… yeah.” He looked off to the side. “Why do you ask…?”

“Oh, I was just curious. I’d heard people talking about you and wanted to know what was up. I'm y/n by the way.” You cocked your head to the side to teasingly meet his gaze.

He was, as the other girls described, kinda hot. But… maybe he was your type? His dark brown hair hung across his forehead, straight and well kept. His deep brown eyes weren't eager to meet yours but you were glad to meet his. Neither of you knew just how pivotal that fire drill would be.

The teachers had signaled the all clear and just like that you were gone, yelling back that you liked his glasses and that he should come find you at lunch.

And find you at lunch he did. He had decided in the hours between that you couldn't be so bad. You didn't ridicule him for being so quiet, you didn't treat him like an animal to be oohed and ahhed at. Within a few weeks he'd developed a crush on you but pushed it to the recesses of his brain. You were his only friend at the school and he had studying to focus on. You, he thought, were too good for him anyways.

In the following years you grew to be attached at the hip. Always berated with questions as to if the two of you were dating, you both answered in equal shock with “Ewww!!!” and “I would never”... which had bothered him a little more than he liked to admit.

You spent lunch together. You spent time between classes together. Occasionally, you skipped class together. You spent your whole summer inseparable until the day you started your final year of college. And when that ended, you threw your graduation parties together. You had learned so much during those years. He had learned everything about you. Your dreams, your fears, your rocky history with men, what made you angry, what food you loved and hated, your favorite spots in town… everything.

The years that flash across your mind in only seconds snapped you back to the present situation.

In that short time, your mind had switched from the hurt you felt with others to fear. Fear that you were about to lose the best thing you ever had. Your best friend.

“Taerae. Taerae, come here…” You crawled over to him and, despite his protests, wrapped your arms around him. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I… I know you didn't mean to upset me.”

The boy’s tears had begun to flow openly and he was sobbing into the crook of your neck and shoulder. Sputtering apologies for getting tears and snot all over your shirt, pressing into your form.

“You've always been so sweet to me, even when I was messing with you and even when I didn't deserve it.” Every sentence you spoke drove him to be a complete and utter mess. You squeezed him tightly, securely, apologetically. “It was too much. The way I just yelled at you… It just struck a chord. I'm sorry. Nobody's ever treated me like you do.”

You said nothing more. Taerae had never seemed so small beneath your hold. You ran your hands through his wavy hair, hair that he recently had lightened to a lovely golden brown hue. With no lack of effort on your end, you managed to get his glasses off of his face and placed them on the carpeted floor beside you. You wanted to cry too. You wanted to cry and just say you were sorry over and over again. You resisted it even if only barely. The two of you never fought. Never.

When he calmed down enough, you let him go and gave his shoulder a tiny nudge. “Come on. Look at me.” Reluctantly he did.

His pretty brown eyes were puffy, blown wide, and glistening as he looked to you. “You… you don't hate me now?” Taerae's voice was meek in a way you hadn't seen since his last breakup. “I understand if you do…”

You spoke slowly, deliberately, and carefully to avoid revealing the extent in which he was breaking your heart right now. “Please. Hush.” You wiped the tears from his eyes with the knuckle of your finger. “I know you too well… I could never hate you. You're too kind, too gentle, too…”

Your next words came out in unison.

“Pathetic.”

“Perfect.”

Taerae's shocked expression was hardly repressed. “Perfect…? No. No no no, I'm anything but that. I'm nothing. Not compared to you.”

“Please don't make me tell you to shut up again. Hey… you're wearing the same sweater you were wearing when we met.”

“You remember that…?”

“I couldn't forget it if I tried to. You changed my life. We've done practically everything together for 5 years. If I lost you I don't think I'd ever be the same. Besides, it just looks so cute on you.”

Silence hung heavy in the air except for the background noise of Guy Fieri leaking from the television. All you two could do was stare at each other in a confusing meld of emotions. You fumbled for the remote, placing the tv on mute before you spoke.

“Hey.”

“Yeah, y/n…?”

“Would it be weird if I told you I'm in love with you?”

At that very moment Taerae felt like he had to be delusional. Maybe dead. Whatever he felt, there was no way you just said that to him.

“What…?”

It was your turn to shy away from his gaze.

“D- Do you mean it? Please don't toy with me like this. I can't take it. Please please don't do this to me. Don't break my heart.”

“You know I mean it, Tae. Do I lie to you?”

Taerae’s heart was stuck in his throat. Tears that never truly stopped had started once more. This time, accompanied by his smile that always extended ear to ear.

“Oh my god. Oh my god!” Taerae was absolutely beaming, giggling like a little kid. “I've dreamt about this day. I've liked you for years. I always pushed it away, thinking you'd never like me like that. You were seriously out of my league. Still are.”

Suddenly, you were pulled into a tight hug. You could feel his heart hammering in his chest. You'd be able to feel him crying too, if it weren't for the fabric of your shirt already being soaked.

“Oh, y/n. You were the first person in this city to treat me like I mattered. I've never truly been able to ignore my feelings, but… when you were laying there. So peaceful. So at ease with your head secure in my lap. I just wanted to love you.”

He paused only long enough to take a deep breath.

“I've always loved you but I wanted to love you. I wanted you to be mine and only mine. To hold you, to comfort you, protect you. Your pretty little face putting so much trust in me. I shouldn't be speaking like it was in the past. I want to. Present tense. I want to fall asleep with you and then every morning I want to wake up with you.”

Taerae’s next words were considered carefully.

“If we're bearing it all, I should admit this too. Earlier… it was a slip of the mouth but I meant it in a way. It wasn't some filthy joke to try and get under your skin or in your pants. But… I do want you that way. I guess… sexually… I just didn't want you to find out in such a way and I needed you to hear that I really care for you and wasn't just riled up because your face was near my bits.”

“Alright, that's enough.” You bit your lip and grabbed his left hand. The one he wore the spinning ring on way back then. “I want to kiss you. I can't talk anymore. I need you to feel that I love you. So, please. Can I kiss you?”

Taerae groaned in relief and giggled. “I've waited 5 years for this. God. You know my ex from last year? She was pretty and all but through all that I only wanted you. All that just to say… kiss me. I'm almost begging you to.”

The first connection of your lips was eager but soft, and sent shockwaves through your bodies. This is what you'd been missing. This is what he'd been missing. No amount of hot flings could've ever prepared you for how it was to kiss Taerae.

“Thank you.” You whispered against him. It only took a moment's time for your lips to clash again, this time more passionately. He tasted faintly of caramel and dark brewed coffee. The scent you caught from the collar of his shirt was new and sickeningly intoxicating. You were used to his natural scent by now and had always enjoyed it, but smelling it now with the velvety rich perfume was an entirely different sensation.

You weren't sure how experienced your dear friend was, but you were sure he'd never kissed anyone like this. His lips were pillowy and unexpectedly soft. Contradicting his generally unassertive nature, Taerae had decided there was enough surface level kissing. The surprise of him attempting to push his tongue into your mouth caught you off guard, causing you to yield easily. A soft whine rose from your throat, egging Taerae on.

“Having fun, yeah?” He chided at you, his typical humor coming back to him.

“Having fun, yeah?” You mocked. “Just keep kissing me, pretty boy.”

There were no complaints to be had on that command. One hand firmly on your back and the other holding the side of your face, Taerae's presence was domineering. The way his hands spread so far across you had you acutely aware of just how large they really are. You desperately wanted to know what those hands could do, but patience was a virtue you had to exercise.

“You taste so good, Tae~” Your face was red hot, almost humiliatingly so. Each time you pulled away from each other, saliva hung between you in heavy strands. You hadn't expected to be kissing your best friend, nor had you expected you'd be on the floor if it ever were to happen. Taerae leaned forward, guiding you carefully to rest your back against the front of the couch.

Taerae broke the kiss, both of your lips growing red. You let out a whine of dismay which was quickly silenced by him latching on to your neck, just below your ear. Taerae's warm breath against your skin made you shiver and you moved to grab on to the sleeve of his sweater.

“Shit- Tae, don't, I have to work tomorrow.” Despite your protests, you'd subconsciously craned your neck to grant him easy access.

“Hm?” He nipped lightly at your flesh. “Waited all this time but you want me to stop now?

“Fine, but if anyone says a word to me you'll never hear the end of it.”

“Hm. I can live with that.”

His onslaught against your neck was relentless, moving his way down toward your collarbones. Red and purple hues were now flowering on the expanse of your skin in deliberately placed blotches.

“Hey, switch it up.” You tapped his arm to get his attention, your message conveyed easily enough. Adjusting your respective positions and climbing onto the couch, you were now straddling Taerae’s hips. You cupped his face, lightly caressing his cheeks with your thumb. Your eyes fell upon him with adoration, taking in the views of his furrowed brows, glossy eyes, and blushing cheeks. With a loving sigh, you granted a small kiss to his cheek before taking his lips into yours once more.

You grasped one of his hands, guiding it to hover just above your chest. Between kisses you assured him it was alright for him to touch you, which he was happy to accept. Your breath hitched once he took your breast into his large hand and brushed his thumb across your nipple. The days in which you bothered to wear a bra around him had passed a couple years ago. Normally such a simple action wouldn't have brought much of a reaction, but this situation was far from ordinary. His massaging of your flesh was slow, almost hesitant, and he was clearly relishing it.

The kisses you exchanged were growing increasingly sloppy and desperate. Softly moaning and whimpering into each other's mouths, teeth occasionally scraping, tongue intertwining. Taerae was becoming increasingly excited, not only evidenced by his less coordinated movements but the growing bulge in his jeans as well. You took note of this and gave your hips an experimental roll. Taerae's brow twitched and he hissed, a small involuntary buck of his hips meeting.

“O-oh my god, y/n, hell.” He was hit with a sudden worry and shook his head slightly, now maintaining eye contact. “First. I know I want this… but are you sure you do? Really really sure? It's so sudden I… I don't want to pressure you into anything. I’d never forgive myself.”

“Idiot,” You chuckled. “I promise if I wasn't sure then I'd have stopped this by now. I want to be close to you, I want to feel you.”

Taerae flashed you a brilliant grin and settled his hands on your waist. You draped your arms over his shoulders, wrapping around to the back of his neck, and nestled your face against the crook of his neck. You swore you could almost feel his heart kiss a beat at the feeling of you licking a small stripe down the side of it.

“Just revenge.” You quipped, proceeding to suck circles into the delicate flesh and biting down gently.

“You gotta be trying to kill me, woman.” You granted him no audible reply.

You again started to move your hips against him, the friction of your panties and thin shorts against the rough denim sending a shock straight to your core. He was already becoming putty in your hands, pliant and gradually losing the dominant facade he'd earlier displayed. His hips came up to meet yours with breathy moans emitting from the two of you. Deciding you'd abused his poor neck enough, you pulled away from his neck. One hand now resting on his side, the other slipped under the thick sweater fabric but still above the white button up he donned beneath.

“Bet your ex never did this to you, hm?” Taerae about jumped out of his skin when your index and pointer finger pressed down on his nipple, rolling the sensitive bud beneath them.

He tossed his head back with a pathetic drawn out whimper. “Damnit, didn't know they were so fucking sensitive. You're right… but I’m so fucking glad you are now.” He swallowed his next breath hard and spoke shyly. “P-please, I like it, don't stop.”

Who were you to deny?

Your continued ministrations were of course pleasurable to you but nothing was quite as satisfying as the way Taerae was coming completely unraveled beneath you. His erection was straining painfully against his jeans now, every buck of his hips driving him just a bit more crazy, short noises of “ah, ah” falling loosely from his lips whenever you applied pressure to him again.

The grip your partner had on you was becoming almost painful but pleasantly so. Arousal filled eyes looking up admirably at you, his mind was spinning.

“Wait, wait, I'm close- so close.” Taerae warned but groaned at the sudden loss of friction when you stilled your hips.

“What's wrong? You wouldn't wanna be done already would you?” It was your turn to tease.

He shook his head and you pressed your forehead against his.

“I've got a question , Tae. You ever wondered what I taste like?”

“God, yes, s-so many times.”

“Right, then I've got an idea. Taerae. Do you wanna eat me out?”

“Fuck. Yes. Is that even a question?”

Taerae took his position back on the floor, legs folded neatly beneath him. You were lounging against the back of the couch with legs open wide to grant him access. Taerae ran his hands along your thighs. He'd seen them many times before, years of ignoring how much he wondered how they'd feel.

“Come on,” You whined, “not to be all impatient but I really would love some relief right about now.”

Taerae hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of your shorts, urging you to lift your hips, and pulled them off of you. He swore his mouth watered at the sight of you. Your underwear were simple, your typical bikini style. They were sky blue, ribbed cotton, with a tiny white bow right on the middle of the waistband.

“Ah, cute.” Taerae laughed lightly and leaned in, placing a kiss on your inner thigh. “Never took you for someone to wear anything but skin tone panties.”

“You've… thought about it?” You looked to the side shyly as if he was looking at your face anyways.

“Mhm. Thought about a lot of things.”

Taerae left sloppy open-mouthed kisses along the inside of your thighs, pulling at the skin softly with his teeth. He took in every little twitch of your muscles and every little noise you made.

“Alright alright, I'll stop teasing.”

Taerae removed your panties, biting his bottom lip harshly. You squirmed, self conscious under the intensity of his gaze.

“Fuckin’ beautiful…” He muttered under his breath and gave your clit a playful lick which made you jump. Arms situated on either side of your hips, Taerae delved into you eagerly, coating the lower half of his face in your juices in little time. “Baby, you're so wet, shit.”

You ran one hand through his fluffy hair, assuring that it was all because of him, all for him. He granted you a sloppy lick along the entirety of your cunt eagerly. He nuzzled into you, tongue delving into your core. Every movement felt electric to you, drowning in the sensation of his nose bumping into your clit, losing yourself more and more when you focused in on the sounds of his mouth against you and the way he panted whenever he paused to catch his breath. One of your hands was pressed against your mouth to stifle your moans while the other grabbed at Taerae’s hair.

You yanked at the locks unintentionally harsh when Taerae’s lips latched onto your clit, sucking eagerly with his tongue pressing against it lightly. The sting of his scalp solicited a choked groan deep from his throat. You took note of it, realizing there was definitely a reason he enjoyed it so much when you played with his hair all the time. Cute.

Taerae had yet to notice the fact he was rutting his hips against the couch, far too focused on eating you out as if he'd never get the chance again. For all he knew, he wouldn't. He removed his right hand from your leg and dipped two fingers into your opening, plunging them in and out progressively deeper as they were coated with your wetness. You'd given up on keeping quiet by now, the hand previously over your mouth now pinching your nipple through your shirt.

“Feels so good,” You gasped out. Taerae curled his fingers, eventually locating the spot that made you cry out. You felt him smile, narrowing in on it and using his free hand to lightly press his palm flat over your pubic bone.

“There you go, just like that.” He purred, picking up his pace. Your chest was heaving, your mind reeling and leaving you wondering where he learnt this and how the hell he got so good at it. His ex crossed your mind but you couldn't be bothered to feel jealous at the moment. Not when the callused pads of his fingers were abusing your g-spot.

“Tae, I'm gonna- Please please just don't stop!” You begged incoherently to him. Taerae’s hips stuttered against the couch, not realizing just how close he was until it was too late. He grunted, desperately chasing his high until he pushed over the edge, his seed spilling out to ruin the expensive denim of his jeans. His moans reverberated through your nerves, bringing you to ecstasy moments after he came. Your thighs shook and clamped around his skull which only encouraged him to ride through both of your orgasms.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you-” Taerae soaked in your praises, freeing himself from the grasp of your legs once you had calmed down.

“Good god, you're good.” You took deep breaths, trying to regain composure. Taerae stood up and leaned over you so he could kiss your forehead and hold your cheek.

“Thank you, love,” Taerae avoided eye contact and scratched his arm. “I, uhm, I may have finished… I’m really sorry.”

“Trade me places. Don’t apologize. Don't worry. I'll clean you up real nice.” You smirked.

If his situation didn't feel real before, it did now. You were looking up at Taerae, fumbling to undo his belt until you could remove it and toss it to the side. You handed him his glasses with the insistence he should be able to see you perfectly.

Taerae considered his words carefully. “This is crazy, all of this. I… think we're past the point of hiding anything. I've stayed up so many nights buried deep in a toy, pretending and wishing so badly that it was you. Now you're here, unzipping my pants…”

His statements made your ears hot while you instructed him to help you out, pulling his pants down to his ankles. He was just in his sweater and underwear now, navy blue plaid boxers complete with a sizable wet patch at the front.

“What else did you think about? Don't be shy. I wanna know.” You lightly squeezed the form of his dick with a mumble. “Such a mess you've made.”

“Well, I-” Taerae’s voice caught in his throat when you started to palm at his groin, agonizingly slow and deliberate. “You remember all those times some freak wouldn't leave you alone so you grabbed my hand and declared how you were taken?”

You placed a kiss just below his navel, right on his happy trail. “Of course I was happy to help you out before all else… but at night I’d always think about how small your hands felt around mine.”

You pulled his boxers down, enough for his dick to spring out and land against his stomach with a wet slap. A drawn out groan filled the room.

“Oh my- has anyone ever told you that your cock is beautiful?” It really was. He wasn't the longest, sitting at what you guessed was 6 inches, but he was girthy. His dick curved upward pleasantly, adorned with a couple prominent veins and a pale pink head. Everything was amplified by the thick white liquid coating the length of it.

You rested your head against his thigh, lazily stroking up and down, taking in the view, and smiling a little at the feeling of Taerae petting your hair. The moment was tender, uncharacteristically quiet. He looked at you like you were his whole world, whispering praises of how pretty you are, soaking in the sensations.

“Alright, I did say I’d clean you up, yeah?”

You licked a long stripe up the underside of Taerae's dick, gathering some amount of his seed on your tongue as you did so. You swallowed it eagerly and stuck out your tongue with an “ahh” to let him see there was nothing remaining. You continued your job with excitement, leaving small licks across the skin until the only residue left was your saliva.

You wrapped a hand around the base of his cock and took the tip into your mouth. You tongued at his slit, noting the way he shuddered. Neglecting to give any meaningful warning, you took a deep breath through your nose and pushed yourself down on his length, gagging a bit when the head touched the back of your throat.

“Fuck!” Taerae’s hand grabbed a fistful of your hair. “Where'd you learn to do that? Ngh- actually, don't tell me. I can't stand to t-think about your lips on anybody but me.”

You pulled your head off of him with a pop and looked up with pleading eyes.

“Please, I want you… in me.” You couldn't understand how you felt so bashful with Taerae considering how long you'd known him. You mulled over it for a moment, deciding it was reasonable enough to feel embarrassed to be begging any man for anything.

Something switched on within Taerae’s mind. “Alright, up.” He patted his thigh, guiding you to straddle him with the head of his cock brushing against your entrance.

“You sure, baby?” You nodded. “Ready? Promise? I want to hear you say it.”

“I promise, need you.”

“Good girl.”

Taerae used his hand to slide his cock between your folds, using the other to urge you to sink your hips down.

“A-ah, Taerae!” You cried and pressed your head into his neck. He swore he could've cum on the spot. You'd used his full name before. Plenty of times, really. Normally you were just calling for him across the room. Maybe scolding him for saying something dumb, or even yelling at him as you had done not even an hour prior. This was… different.

“Come on,” He gently pried you from his body. His eyes sparkling, looking at you like you were his entire world, pride swelling in his chest. “Hold on tight.”

You flung your arms around him happily, regaining your position by his throat. Taerae's hands grabbed firmly at your hips as he started to thrust in to you.

“Good god, so tight.” Taerae growled. The stretch was incredible, your walls clenching around him. The initial sting was soothed quickly. You could've sworn Taerae was made for you in every way. His personality, his care, the way your bodies slotted together, how satisfyingly he filled your cunt.

Both of you swore up and down you usually lasted longer but between the surges of emotion longing, you were reaching your peaks quite rapidly.

Taerae was basking in how you begged for him to speed up, unknowingly stroking his ego. He smirked with satisfaction, you were finally his… and he needed to hear it out loud.

“You want more?” His voice was low and velvety in your ears. “Right. Then tell me who's wrecking you? Who do you belong to?”

“You, Tae-” His nails dug into your sides with his thrusts intensifying swiftly. “Belong to you, don't want anyone else. Just Taerae-”

His hips snapped roughly upward, letting himself set a brutal pace.

“That's right, y/n. Mine. Don't need anybody else.”

Your ramblings had devolved to moans with the occasional coherent utterance of Taerae's name, thanks, and praises.

“Getting close, hon?” Taerae's breath was shaky and hot, his mind clouding with the pleasure that washed over him in waves.

You nodded fervently, pleading with him to keep going, to let you finish. Granting him permission to cum inside before he had even asked. With a series of high moans, your orgasm hit you like a semi, clamping your teeth down on the side of Taerae’s neck hard.

“Fuck!” Taerae yelped and planted himself firmly within you, pushed to his limit by the way you desperately rutted your hips against his in an attempt to drag out your high. His cum covered your walls in white hot ropes with every twitch of his cock, filling you up until it began to seep out of you and down to his balls.

For a few moments, everything was quiet other than both of your exhausted pants. You clung to him like he wasn't corporeal, like he was going to disappear if you let him go, feeling his heart beating forcefully beneath his sweater. You pulled off of him, mourning the loss of his cock and the sticky liquid that flowed freely from your hole.

Coming back to reality, insecurity grabbed hold of you cruelly and you held back tears.

“T-Taerae…?”

His hand rubbed your back reassuringly.

“Yes?”

“Do you still love me?”

“What kind of silly question- Nevermind.” Taerae squeezed you into a hug and wiggled back and forth. “Of course I do. Sure you just took me to another planet but I told you that's not the only reason I love you. I promise.”

Your stomach growled in the silence, reminding you of what had gotten you to this situation in the first place.

“I'm sorry again, Tae. I love you so so so much…”

Taerae made a noise of acknowledgement. “I love you too. Hey, you still hungry?”

“God damn I almost forgot. Can we get chinese?”

“What? You just had korean! But, if that's what you want then I guess so…”

“Oh, shut up!” You laughed and pinched Taerae wherever you could grab.

Taerae removed you from his arms, peppering tiny kisses all over your face and hands.

“Get up so we can clean up, alright? Then I’ll call in the order and you can take a nap. I'll wake you up when it gets here.”

You nodded happily, following him to the bathroom while he switched on the showerhead. You both tossed your shirts to the side and hopped under the hot water, embracing each other once again.

“Thanks for pissing me off, Tae.”

“Yeah. Thanks for not killing me on the spot.”

[mrsgiovanna]

Finding beauty in the ordinary (Don Giorno x Fem!Reader)

Just another fluff scenario with the Don, I hope this is what you were envisioning my sweet nonnie, trust me, I know what it's like when the brainrot gets you XD. I'm sorry for the unreasonably long wait, and for how short this is.

Warnings: None, only fluff

Word count: 890

The villa was quiet on weekends like these… the staff were given some time off, all the external entrances were closed off and you and Giorno had just woken up, having taken advantage of the quiet to catch up on some lost sleep. You both worked hard, your occupations being anything but ordinary… but on days like this, you both felt like just another loved up pair of fools.

“Buongiorno bella mio,” sitting up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he glanced at you to find you smiling up at him, taking in the wonderful way the sun bounced off your skin and made your eyes sparkle. Sitting up yourself, you leaned towards him and placed a small kiss on his lips before getting out of bed to get a head start on your day of doing absolutely nothing. Finally, you thought, you could both let loose and enjoy each other.

The image you both portrayed when making appearances in public was a far cry from your true natures, you both had conducted yourselves with a grace that far surpassed your tender ages… to be fair, your collective experiences had as well. Fighting hard for the lives you now enjoy, every once in a while you rewarded yourselves with a gift that no amount of money could buy… complete, uninterrupted indulgence in each other’s company.

You lived for these moments when Giorno could hang up the title of Don in the back of the closet with his collection of expensive suits and just be your Giogio. The natural grace in his mannerisms and wisdom served as an effective mask to his more playful nature, something that was reserved only for you, and you couldn’t help but fall in love with him all over again while watching him dusting the flour off your cheek. For all intents and purposes you embarked on this pizza-making adventure with optimism, it was an easy enough task for a pair of adults... but a few misplaced toppings and Freudian slips suggesting that your sweetheart wasn’t even Italian had resulted in a subdued food fight, you both halting in your tracks when you realized that the mess wouldn’t magically clean itself up seeing that you two were the only ones there.

“You really did this time didn’t you cara?”

“Me? You started it y’know, but I guess you’re entitled to you own wrong opinions… we need to clean this up,” you jested, combing the stray locks of hair out of his face. Making short work of clearing up the little mess you both had made, Giorno had taken it upon himself to run you a bath throwing in your favorite bath products and some red rose petals in for an extra bit of decadence. Choosing to shower quickly instead of joining you gave Giorno enough time to transform the living room floor into a makeshift woodland wonderland, crafting your favorite flowers and other vegetation with the life-imbuing power of his stand. Meticulously setting up the food and drinks, he waited for you, wistfully staring off at the fireplace nursing his own drink. His thoughts somehow always meandered back to you, and he realized that he always caught himself smiling when thinking about you.

“Gio, what’s all this?”

“Ah! I was just about to come check on you… thought you might have fallen asleep or something,” you delighted in the levity he spoke with, feeling privileged to be one he allowed himself to be this unguarded around.

“Trust me, I almost did, I feel so relaxed… thank you my love… for everything, this place looks so magical!”

“Of course cara, it’s a bit too cold to do any of this outside, so I made it such that we could enjoy it indoors…” you weren’t sure where the time had gone with how engrossed you both were in each other, only noticing that the day had matured to dusk with the rays of the setting sun catching Giorno’s beautiful golden mane splayed unbound about his shoulders.

You started clearing everything away while Giorno returned the living room to its usual state, immediately seeking after you when he had completed his task only to find you blissfully humming along to your favorite song playing on the stereo you always had on as white noise when you were in the kitchen. Smiling to himself at how charming you were, and how thankful he felt that you were his and only he was blessed to see this side of you, the young Don held you from behind, gently coaxing the utensils out of your hands, he turned you around and started swaying you to the music.

With a content sigh, you relaxed in his arms and rested your head against his chest, the music faded into the background with the steady sound of his heartbeat now being the one that you relished and resonated with the most. Placing feather light kisses to your temple and the shell of your ear, there was nothing in recent memory that could rival the beauty and intimacy of that moment for you two, with that lingering feeling fueling your souls, almost as if you had been sharing a single consciousness it became apparent to you both that in an extravagant life filled with novelty, the most wonderful moments can be found in the ordinary.

[frodos-bizarre-adventure]

@gingerreggg welp part 3 is up (part 1) (part 2)

Heads Up- Part 3 (Joseph x Bust Caesar)

▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪

"Joseph!" said Suzi in her gentle, merry voice. "I've come to visit!"

Inside the house, Joseph began to panic. "Caesar! I can't let her see you! She'll freak out!"

"What?" Caesar asked, looking up at Joseph. "Who's Suzi?"

"My old classmate from the art school, she can't see a living, talking clay bust like you! I need to hide you somehow!" Joseph's frantic eyes darted around for something to cover Caesar with, until they fell upon an empty cardboard box on a shelf by the living room.

"I hope you don't need to breathe, Caesarino!" he said, putting the box over Caesar, who sat on the floor of the living room.

"Well I have no lungs, you said--" complained Caesar before the box completely covered him. He complained in muffled screams from inside the box.

"Now be very quiet!" Joseph scolded. "Act like a perfectly normal, inanimate clay sculpture and everything will be fine!" With an irate grumble Caesar begrudgingly complied and soon all was quiet.

"Jojo? Is everything alright in there?" Suzi called from outside, knocking again.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Joseph called out, glancing back one more time to make sure Caesar hadn't budged, before he grabbed the door with shaky hands and opened the latch, to reveal a radiant and cheerful face crowned with blonde locks on the opposite side of the door.

"Jojo!" she beamed, sunny as ever. "It's been a long time!" Before Joseph could stop her, she came waltzing right into the house and began to look around as if she was in a museum. Typical Suzi, Joseph thought to himself, a clever and capable young lady but at times a bit of a ditz.

"I've heard that you'd moved into a new apartment in town for your final year in art school!" she said. "And you've got a nice little place too to do your work!"

"Well, it's not much, but I suppose it'll do," Joseph sighed uneasily. "I've just been so busy for my senior project--" Joseph's eyes shot a glance to the box covering Caesar. "--before I graduate and hopefully start my career! I just though a pad of my own would be good for my, uh...creative touch."

Suzi skipped around the room, marveling at all of Joseph's art on display-- sculptures, figurines, models, paintings-- that Joseph had put up on display on his walls and cabinets. She gaped in awe, like a five-year-old at the fair, as she admired all of his work.

"It's all so pretty!" she exclaimed. "I see why you've been so busy for the past two years. I hadn't even heard more of a peep of you all this while."

"I'm sorry, Suzi." Joseph sighed, rubbing his brow. "Sorry I missed out on so much time we could have spent hanging out...It's just been a lifelong aspiration of mine to do the greatest art I can! Art that seems like it could just come to life."

No sooner had those words left his mouth did Joseph suddenly regret his little Freudian slip-- fortunately it seemed Suzi hadn't clued on. She continued looking around the house at every artwork she could see, and as her stay dragged on Joseph grew ever uneasier that their secret would be up.

And so Suzi had gone out of her way and admired every piece in the apartment. Except for one.

"Jojo! What's in the box?" she exclaimed,

Joseph suddenly blocked himself between the box and Suzi. "Er, nothing!"

"You sure?" She asked teasingly. "I know you have a little surprise in there!"

"You've seen everything!" Joseph huffed, his face red and sweating. He tried to keep himself between Suzi and the box as she circled around trying to get a look.

And by a twist of misfortune, Joseph's foot slipped, knocking against the box hardly.

"Ouch!" cried Caesar, muffled.

Joseph smacked himself in the forehead. "Aw shit."

Suzi had heard the voice. "Who said that? It came from inside that box!"

"It's nothing, I promise!" Joseph pleaded, but he knew their little charade was over.

"You've been acting kinda weird lately, Jojo, there's something going on here," she said, her voice quizzical and filled with concern. And before Joseph could stop her, she lifted up the box--and two loud screams filled the air.

"AAAAHHH!" Caesar cried out squinting in the bright living room light, as his cover was lifted away.

"AH!" Suzi exclaimed in a brief, shrill yelp of surprise, as she met eye contact with Caesar. Caesar tried to freeze in place, but it was too late: she had already seen the sculpture moving.

"Joseph! It's gorgeous! It's...moving! How? How did you make this!" she squealed in delight. Joseph glanced up, surprised.

"You're...you're not scared?" the artist asked. "I...I was worried you'd be frightened of uh...of him."

"He's beautiful!" Suzi cried joyfully, reaching her arms out at Caesar. "Let me hold him!"

"NO!" Caesar screamed, and frantically tried to hop away with all his might. But as much as he'd practiced bouncing the whole night, he was, after all, little more than a limbless blob of clay with a human head, and against Suzi with her long legs and grabby arms, he wasn't winning any marathon races.

"Oof! He's heavy!" Suzi groaned as she grabbed Caesar, lifting the bust off the ground and onto the table.

"Don't! Let...let go of me!" Caesar protested, though his struggles consisted of little more than his neck and torso-stump flailing side-to-side like a wagging tail. And soon, to his dismay, he found himself up onto a tabletop again. Unable to jump more than a few inches, there was no getting away this time, and Caesar and Joseph glanced uneasily at one another, resigning themselves to face the consequences.

"Alright, I'm coming clean," sighed an exasperated Joseph. "Ask all the questions you want, as long as you keep it between the two of us."

"Three," corrected Caesar.

"He's alive! And yet...he's made of clay!" Suzi said, as she gently felt Caesar's shoulder. "How is this even possible?"

Joseph and Caesar exchanged glances. "We have no idea," they said in unison.

"Did you make him?" Suzi said, inquisitively sticking her finger into Caesar's ear which prompted a near-missed bite from the annoyed bust. "Oh, those teeth! And those eyes, and lips...he looks so human!"

"Well, I'm not perfect," joked Caesar dryly.

"What's your name?" Suzi asked the living bust excitedly.

"Oh...I'm...I'm Caesar," he replied, bowing his head shyly. "Jojo here gave me that name."

"This is beyond extraordinary," Suzi gasped in wonder. "You've created a living, talking, thinking person out of just clay and paint! Well, not quite a whole one, but still!" Caesar grimaced at the 'whole' comment.

"I wish I could explain it to you, Suzi, but...but I just can't," Joseph pleaded. "Caesar...is...he's my finals art project. He isn't even supposed to be alive! I just found this lump of clay in the attic while trying to find a medium for my grand masterpiece, I worked and painted it for several months, and before I knew it, my project was screaming and yelling and hopping around."

"Like a goddamn Veggietales character," Caesar sarcastically added, prompting a hearty laugh from the two artists. "Now put me back on the floor this instant," he demanded, unamused.

"He is amazing," Suzi said, complying, placing Caesar back down with a little effort. "I still can't believe you made something that looks and acts almost like a real person!"

Caesar's metaphorical heart sank upon hearing her words. "So...I'm not a real person then. I'm just a half-made piece of work after all." Pushing against the floor with his neck, he sadly began to hop away, in his now familiar clumsy, thumping manner.

"Caesar! Wait!" Suzi called out to him, managing to give the distraught figure pause. "I'm sorry, I meant to say you looked almost human, but you're definitely a person all the same, with or without a body. And I think you're quite handsome, for a bust."

Joseph watched as Suzi gently brought down a wall mirror and rested it onto the floor. "Have you seen yourself, Caesar? Look here."

Intrigued, Caesar began thumping over to the mirror, and for the first time since he awoke in Joseph's room, he got to see his reflection.

"That's...that's me?" Caesar gasped, leaning forward to inspect himself. He looked into his own brilliant green eyes, painted an iridescent glossy sheen, at his spiked, blond hair, formed of clay but etched with fine lines that created the illusion of individual strands. He pondered curiously at the strange pink patches on his cheeks, admired his own sculpted face, his chiseled chin, his thick, muscular-looking neck, and his smooth yet detailed collarbone.

And then...nothing. His form ended below in a rounded lump, with only the slightest hint of shoulders and the upper part of a chest. Beneath, there was only a flat pad of clay on which he stood--or sat? or lay?-- upon, painted the same textured fleshy tone as his head and neck were. Gazing over to Joseph and Suzi's reflections, he couldn't help but feel a hint of envy, at the graceful limbs that he lacked.

But at the same time, he couldn't deny that he was beautiful. Incomplete as his body was, he nonetheless felt, as he noticed every tiny detail, Joseph's hard, painstaking work in creating him to the utmost perfection.

And he felt loved.

"Wow," was all that Caesar could say at first, before he managed to gather up his bearings. "I really am a project of passion, ain't I?" he asked. Joseph smiled proudly.

"You're welcome," he said, stooping down to give the bust a gentle pat. "And I'm sorry I made you like this. It must be difficult."

"For now, my mouth is my hand and my neck is my leg," Caesar chuckled. "But I can tell you loved making me. Thank you, Joseph."

Joseph glanced up uneasily at Suzi. "Is it wrong for me to keep him, y'know, just a head? I chose to make a bust to begin with because I couldn't sculpt bodies! It's not my forte! And how long would it take to complete him?"

"Hmmm," Suzi hummed, observing Caesar from all angles. "He seems to be doing fine right now. But if you insist, perhaps I might be of help..."

---------

(Previous Chapter)

(Next Chapter)

[sweetcinnamcn]

Family Dinner || Self-Para

Summary - Ian and his three older siblings come home for a family dinner after which his mother gives him a talking to plus a little something something for the upcoming Bachelor Auction.

WC: 2,630

Without Tommy there to back him up, Ian slips into old habits too easily. It’s hard for him to not let his brothers’ joshing get to him, and each quip at his expense makes Ian’s smile that much more strained. Everything from “Hey Schoolboy!” to bets on how much cum he’s been guzzling seems to be on the table tonight, and since they’re drinking they’re a bit more abrasive about it too. Ian really doesn’t like being around his brothers when they’re drinking.

“Huh, buddy?” Ian had retreated inwards and completely zoned out of the conversation. It wasn’t until Harrison clapped him on the back that he even realized all three of his siblings were looking at him. His mouth falls agape as he tries to think of something—anything—to say, but Donovan’s snort beats him to the chase.

“Space cadet strikes again. How’s the view from the clouds Lieutenant Dumbass?” he chortles, both his brothers laughing boisterously now. Ian laughs along with obviously less zeal.

Annette only shakes her head, moderately eye-rolling at her brothers. “Please don’t mess with him like that. Ian’s no fun when he starts to turtle up.” While he’s sure she means well, comments like that only ever get his big brothers laughing at him harder. This is why Ian doesn’t enjoy family dinners without his younger in attendance.

“What’s wrong, Annie? Junior too busy to be his white knight so you’ve got to fill the vacancy?”

“Not that he needs it. He’s a grown man and we’re just kidding around. Ian knows it. Look at him! Life of the party!” Harrison points right to the smile glued to Ian’s face. That gets a smile out of Annette which she attempts to hide by taking a sip from her wine glass. Harrison and Donovan never hide when they’re laughing at him. This is why he needs his little brother. Ian always feels invisible, pushed aside, belittled, and a bunch of other things he’s not good at vocalizing whenever he’s at home. Tommy always knew how to save him.

“Have you guys spoken to him recently? I know he’s super busy, but I can’t ever get him on the phone anymore—”

“Time zones, buddy. We’ve been over this. England is a few hours ahead of us, so you can’t just call him whenever.” So what if Ian has to count on his fingers to get an idea of what time it is for Tommy, it’s not like he forgets he has to! Though … he doesn’t say anything to reject the implication about his understanding of time zones either.

“Nah, he’s been dodging me too! He goes and claims a princess and suddenly “His Highness” is too good for us.”

“His Grace. Tommy is only going to be a duke by marriage and—”

“Yeah ok, we get that you’re jealous of his royal assent, but seriously Annie couldn’t you at least try to not sound bitter whenever he comes up?”

That’s how things have always been between his siblings. They have a brash, witty sense of humor and even Annette’s found a way to navigate those waters effectively. She can take it and dish it out without sacrificing the austerity she places in her classification. Ian was never as good as her. All he could ever do was smile through it all. As they continue to bicker amongst themselves and Ian starts to wish that Mother let him at least have a glass of wine like Annette got, he sees his father come into the room. He can’t help his sigh of relief.

“Boys, mind the volume. Really, I don’t know why she lets you drink on empty stomachs. You both get so belligerent!” It’s only a gentle scolding on his part, no hints of genuine irritation are found on his face. His brothers know this as well and both take a large swallow of their beers in response. Walter McCallister, the perfect claim for a woman like Clarice, the perfect father to both wrangle and console the children she bore as they needed. Ian’s always felt closer to his father, and for more reasons than their shared classification. He was hoping to get a chance to speak with him privately at some point before dinner was over, but hasn’t gotten to yet. “Dinner is about to be served. Why don’t you all wash up and come take a seat? Your mother is hungry and she is not in a patient mood tonight,” Walter informs before Ian can get a chance to say something. All buzzed except Ian, the McCallister children file out of the room. Ian starts to perk up a bit after his father gives him a gentle shoulder pat on his way out.

Dinner was delicious, and in typical McCallister fashion, it ends as they always do. As soon as Clarice puts her utensil down, Ian, Annette, and Walter all get up from their spots to clear the table. The Dominants will continue to sit and chat for a while. They’ll drink and have fun waiting for the others to bring dessert and coffee if desired. Those three only get dessert as an occasional reward, so none for them tonight much to Ian’s disappointment. There’s a delicious-looking lemon cake in the kitchen just calling his name. He’s even so bold as to try and finger swipe some icing off of it, but Annette slaps his hand away before he gets a chance. Ian is mid pout when a single command makes him go rigid.

“Ian, darling,” Clarice calls out from the dining room. “I’ll be taking my dessert in my study. Be a dear and bring it up to me.” The tension in the kitchen is palpable. Annette and Walter keep cleaning, but even Ian knows they’ve each got a nervously watchful eye on him. Being alone with Mother in her study only means one thing: prepared to get chewed out. 

“Yes Ma’am,” he responds, dejectedly cutting a suitable piece of cake for Mother and bringing it up. He has to suffer the typical “Ooo you’re in trouble”’s from his lounging brothers as he walks by. It’s not like they’re kids anymore so he doesn’t understand why they get such a kick out of it, but much like when they were, Ian shrugs away from their scrutiny so hard that it looks like he’s trying to make his head disappear. ‘Turtling’ as Annette so aptly put it, warranting even more joshing at his expense while he hurries to Mother’s study.

A deep sigh at the door and then a knock, Ian’s typical ritual. He can’t remember a time in his life when he left this room feeling good. He enters once prompted and sets the cake down in front of her, then steps back from her desk and stands there, waiting patiently. This is a common routine and Ian’s had plenty of practice, though he does think that her having him watch her eat it is a bit much. It feels like a punishment. Then again, so have their last few chats.

“Mm! That was absolutely divine. I swear, your father’s skills in the kitchen have never once diminished over the years. I do wish you could’ve enjoyed some…” Her voice and expression are cheery, but her eyes seem very cold. Even the way Clarice cleans the fork intimidates Ian. She’s quite skilled at making him feel naked in a not-fun way. “…then again, you haven’t been a very good boy, have you?” 

“No Ma’am, I have not,” he says without hesitation. Confessing it out loud hurts so much. In a single sentence, weeks of “good boys” have been erased. Until he gets claimed, there’s only one Dominant who gets to dictate how well Ian’s behaving, and Clarice McCallister’s margins for grading are very clear.

“Huh,” is her only response, those cold eyes of hers repeating every scathing critique she’s voiced recently. There’s no need to rehash them, Ian knows full and well how he’s failed and why he’s failed. “Ian, I’ve been very patient with you. Men in our family attending Lowell has been a great honor for generations. You are the very first to turn that honor into an embarrassment. You should feel embarrassed by your inability to get claimed. It’s no one’s fault but your own.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Ma’am.”

“If I had a dollar for every time I heard that, I’d be able to reimburse myself for nine years of tuition.”

“I know. I’m—” A single quirk of Clarice’s eyebrow is all it takes for the words to die on Ian’s tongue. He looks down at his feet, unable to handle her disapproving gaze. He feels choked up like a hot coal is burning through his throat. The ground below starts to look blurry as well. Ian is doing his best not to cry. He knows Mother hates seeing that. “I’m trying really hard. I help out and I talk to a lot of Dominants. I have a lot of friends! But I … I don’t know why no Dominant wants me. I do everything you suggest and it—”

“Maybe you should spend less time screwing around with taken locals and put your energies towards getting serious about getting claimed.” He visibly winces at that interruption, because in his heart he knows there’s a lot of truth to it. “At this point, I’m not sure which is more humiliating. The fact that you’ve been there for nearly a decade, or the fact that your highest accolade is getting labeled as the school slut.” That one hurts even more, but he has a tool to use. Luckily, in his increasingly stressed frame of mind, he remembers to take it out of the toolbox his therapist has been helping him build.

“Dr. Addams says—”

“I’m the one paying for your little headcase pow wows with Dr. Addams. The last thing I want thrown in my face right now is whatever Freudian bullshit he told you to spout at me.”

“I-I just—”

“Would you quit mumbling like an idiot? Don’t slouch like that. Stand up straight, hold your head up high. If you have something to say, use your voice, Ian. How many times do I have to tell you this? Appearance is everything. Fix yourself, now!” He lifts his head but has to sniffle. Ian is full-on crying by the end of that and he just couldn’t hold his tears back any longer. Clarice’s eye-roll in response only makes him feel worse. “My sensitive little boy, what are we going to do with you?” she sighs, shaking her head. Ian stands perfectly still, trying to compose himself even though he knows he’s failing. The night has been a lot for him and he’s feeling raw from it all, but he knows what’s coming when Mother stands and walks around her desk. He’s thankful for it.

For all her talk about hating hysterics, she’s very good at dealing with Ian’s. She tenderly grasps the back of his head and brings his face into her neck, embracing her son. Ian wraps his large frame around her in turn, sobbing uncontrollably now that he’s been given the all-clear. He’s incoherent, inconsolable, but Clarice’s soothing touches calm Ian down. When she feels he’s gotten enough of it out of his system, she pushes him back gently by his shoulders. One hand goes to cup his pitiful face, stroking his cheek with her thumb as he whimpers out the last of his outpouring. “Ian, it’s just you. Even Tommy’s grown up and done it now. Not to mention he’s taken our ‘marrying up’ speeches seriously. I mean, he’s claimed into royalty! It’s bad for my image to have you still at Lowell with not even a prospect while all your other siblings have done so well. We need to change that, right?”

“Y-Yes Ma’am. I’ll try harder.” Eventually, she smiles and he smiles through his teary eyes in return. He must’ve finally said the right thing.

“Good boy.” There it is, the two words that uplift him more than everything else. A single phrase is capable of washing away all the cold pricklies and replacing them with warm fuzzies. He’s feeling better already. “But what am I always telling you?”

“My looks are my most important asset?” 

“Exactly!” she praises. “You’re such a beautiful boy. Though, you could probably benefit from shedding some weight. Did you have to get so bulky?” Ian’s used to criticism being attached to Mother’s compliments. Her standards are extremely high. “I don’t expect you to be able to come up with a solution, which is why I’m going to help you. When Harrison was at Lowell, I did something for him before the Bachelor Auction. I’ve decided I’m going to do the same for you.”

He starts to wipe his face and continues to compose himself when Clarice turns around to her desk. He can’t see what she’s scribbling out, but after hearing some paper tear he figures what she’s doing. “Now, I know I’ve expressed my hesitation about doing this before, but Ian the auction has only ever resulted in you being a glorified whore for a night. How many times were you purchased by someone who had actual intentions of claiming you?” Out of eight times, the answer is none, and the pause it takes for him to mull this over is long enough for the rhetorical nature of Clarice’s question to be apparent. “My point exactly. This year, you’re taking matters into your own hands.”

Ian looks at the check, amazed at the amount. He’s never held that much money in his life, and it means the world to him that Mother has faith in his ability to do this.

“But Ma’am—”

“No buts, just promise me you’ll spend it wisely. Don’t waste this opportunity. Choose a Dominant carefully, one you have a shot with. It’s okay to think of a game plan too. In fact, you should ask Annie for tips. I’ve never seen anyone wrap a Dominant around their finger quite like her.”

Ian nods, sniffling still but smiling nonetheless. “Thank you, Mother. I won’t let you down. I’m gonna get a great date and I’ll get claimed. This will be my last year at Lowell, I promise.” Clarice smiles and dismisses Ian with a nod. He holds the check to his chest, feeling like he’s living a dream. Mother is right, this year he’s not leaving anything to chance. He’s going to make the right choice and finally get claimed.

The next couple of days on campus, Ian tried to keep his ear to the ground and figure out who he’d focus his bidding efforts on. Annie gave him some tips for how to plan the date in a way that’ll keep a Dominant interested, but that doesn’t help him choose. It’s not until he gets some alone time in the game room that he makes up his mind. Feeling the green of the pool table reminds Ian of a memory he hasn’t visited recently, only because he failed to find the need. But now … it’s giving him inspiration. “It’s settled then. I know what I’m going to do,” he says to himself, resolute in a way that’s almost uncharacteristic. Ian isn’t sure if he’s going to be able to live up to his promises by going for who he’s thinking, but he’s sure that it’s the best option given his predicament. “The Bachelor Auction is just around the corner. I have to make sure I’m ready. I’m going to land a Dominant, bring him home, and Mother will be so proud she’ll call me a good boy a whole bunch. I’m sure of it.”

[midnightghostwriter]

close encounter

↬ summary: a trip downtown turns into more than you bargained for

↬ genre: fluff

↬ pairing: jay park x reader

↬ word count: 2.7k

a/n: okay so this is 100% just because i like this story and this week has sucked so here have more fluff. istg someday i will update with something new, but for now bear with me and have this instead.

i will probably change the title bc idk how i feel about it lol

The Pacific Northwest was known more than anywhere else in America for being rainy, gray, and cold, especially during the extended winter months. This fact only became more true the closer one drew to the various bodies of water dotting the state of Washington, leading you to wonder what had possessed you to go on this excursion. It wasn’t precisely far to reach the damp streets of Seattle, but it was far enough that by the time you’d arrived at the bustling hub of Pike Street, and managed to orient yourself at the bus stop a few blocks away, the rain was drumming a fiercer beat than the brave buskers trying to earn a few bucks from passerby despite the inclement conditions.

Hood drawn tight about your face, you dodged your fellow pedestrians as best you could with your vision so limited to what laid directly in your path. You were met with success, ducking into the blessedly covered marketplace. Past the inexplicable statue of a golden pig surrounded by flocks of tourists taking photos and into the warmth of the covered walkway that wound between stalls and established shops alike. The warm air was filled with a myriad of scents; soft florals of the multitude of flower stands, the distinctive smell of fish and seafood fresh from the nearby piers, the hidden sour smell of so many bodies packed into the space. It was almost overwhelming and yet you found yourself enjoying it. It was not often you were able to experience it, and you wanted to commit it to memory in as much detail as possible.

Across the cobbled floor, dampened from the rain soaked soles of shoes that had preceded yours, your feet carried you, slowing their hurried rush to escape the less savory weather to a stroll that allowed you to take in the sights. Past the famous flying fish stand where experienced fishmongers tossed the large sea dwellers into the waiting hands of patrons in the crowd; past the classy restaurant that had managed to claim a small section of the market for the more upscale customers; past a natural food stand and another selling an assortment of wares tourists would brandish to prove they had set foot in this cultural hub.

You allowed yourself to fall into the current of tourists and locals alike, you falling somewhere in the middle as you marveled at some wares and rolled your eyes at others. But nothing caught your eye, and you weren’t keen on truly shopping here anyway. So you followed the flow of people until the line of shops once again opened onto the equally bustling street, blinking a bit as you stepped into the dim grey light. Pausing, you glanced about you before deciding to make your way toward the more formal shopping district a few blocks away.

A slight detour to secure a warm drink from the city’s famous coffeehouse, and you were puffing warm air into the damp chill outside the entrance to H&M. Another stream of chattering people helped you through the doors into the store, some trendy song or another filling your ears as you moved off to the side to avoid being run into. Idly you circled some of the sales racks near the doors, picking at vibrant patterns, and simple colors in fashion-forward cuts.

Intent on your search, you didn’t notice the new rush of shoppers come inside just as you rounded the rack. Your indiscretion found you colliding quite abruptly with an unexpected presence, a flash of gratefulness that you’d consumed your coffee and thus avoided splashing the beverage onto them flitting through your mind. The empty cup tumbled from your fingers as you stumbled a bit and reached for the nearest thing to steady you, which just so happened to be a pair of well-muscled arms that had reached for you. As you took a moment to regain your balance, you couldn’t help a twinge of vague recognition for the tattoos that spread across the tanned skin from beneath the rolled sleeves of the person’s shirt. Hadn’t you seen that design somewhere before?

Then you remembered your situation, and a muddled rush of apologies came tumbling past your lips. The words were met with a low chuckle that had your eyes sliding up the body in front of you to meet your victim’s, the sight nearly tearing a gasp from your throat as your own orbs widened in surprise.

“Nah it’s my fault, I wasn’t paying attention,” the guy supporting you assured, hint of a smile playing at his lips. You tried to remember the second nature act of taking in oxygen as a red-hot blush swept across your face. This became infinitely harder when a full smile lit his features at the wide eyes and dropped jaw you were now sporting. “I’m Jay.”

“I know.” The words sprang unbidden from your gaping mouth and you snapped it shut, mortified. Your blush darkened as he laughed again, polite smile now a genuine grin. “I-I mean, I’m…” You eventually managed to provide him with the syllables of your own name and he nodded, repeating it back almost as if he were testing out the sound. Your heart flopped funnily in your chest, eyes darting away from his to focus on a pair of heels on the rack next to you.

“Hey, I’m actually from around here,” he started and you resisted the urge to tell him that you knew that too. “How about I show you some of my favorite spots? You know, as kind of an apology for almost body slamming you into those ugly ass leopard leggings.” At that exact moment you realized your fingers were still resting on his biceps and you tore them away to run a hand through your hair in a manner you hoped was casual, the other diving into the sanctuary of your coat pocket.

“Th-that sounds like fun!” You agreed, hoping he couldn’t hear the nervous strain in your voice or see how your smile wavered shyly under his gaze. You instantly regretted chancing a look at him when you saw his smile bloom again and your heart tripped across your rib cage.

“Great, let’s go,” and you were left no choice but to follow when he turned to lead the way out.

You hadn’t been sure what to expect when you unthinkingly agreed to Jay’s proposal. Maybe he’d bring you to a place in the warehouse district on 1st where he used to practice the dances he was so known for. Or perhaps some hidden corner of one of the parks where’d he sat and thought about the path he wanted his life and his music to take. Hell maybe he was just going to ditch you in some god awful corner of Columbia or something and leave you for dead.

But lucky for you Jay stayed true to you, guiding you along the crowded streets and weaving between alleyways on your own personal tour. Even when he brought you somewhere you had visited in years past, you smiled and laughed at the stories he added to your own memories of the location. With every minute that passed in his presence you found your earlier nerves about being in the presence of someone you so admired slipping, replaced instead with a fondness for the boy beside you.

Pleasant surprise reigned once again when you were dragged (though not quite so forcibly) to a quirky shop of some persuasion you couldn’t discern from the sign. Tucked safely within its warm interior, it suddenly hit you again just who you were with. Sneaking a peek at him, you were startled to find his eyes meeting yours, almost as if he had been doing the same.

“I-is this another spot on the Jay Park Exclusive Seattle Tour?” you asked, trying to tease him and cover up the race horse of your heart in your chest. With a chuckle he shook his head.

“Nope, just looked good and I’m starving,” he replied simply and you snickered.

“Ah, so even the great Jay Park can be won over through his stomach.”

“Is that so wrong?”

“Nah, it’s cute.” The words tripped past your lips before you had time to think, but the raised brow on Jay’s face shed some light on your Freudian slip. “I-I mean, uh, oh shit.” The amused smile on his lips split into full blown laughter as you panicked.

“Pay attention or you aren’t getting anything to eat.” The unexpected reprimand was accompanied by a playful smack to the back of your head, effectively cutting off any rambling apologies or excuses you may have had. Flustered, you glanced at the menu and spat out the first item that looked even remotely edible.

Cowed into silence by your slip of the tongue, you followed him to a table, trying and failing to not overthink every move you made now. Completely lacking any of your usual grace (if you could be said to have even a modicum of the stuff), you flopped into the chair across from him, eyes glued to the granite table top. Jay remained silent, allowing you to wallow in your thoughts that he probably thought you were ridiculous, or even worse you had made him uncomfortable with your comment. God, could this get any more awkward?

Before your brain could spell out each and every way things could be infinitely more awkward, you were started from your thoughts by the appearance of your food. You glanced up from the plate placed before you to find Jay settling back into his seat, already beginning to devour the sandwich he’d ordered.

“Sorry, I should’ve gone to get the food since you paid,” you managed after a moment, your voice hushed with nerves. The reassuring smile he flashed your way sent your heart spiraling out of control and you could feel your blush making its return. You ducked your head, hoping your hair could conceal at least some of the red tint from his vision.

“Don’t be sorry. You say that too much.” He reached across the table and stole one of your fries, smiling teasingly. “Now hurry up and eat or I’m taking yours. I did pay after all, so it’s technically mine anyway.” Finding a small sum of courage with his teasing, you scooted the plate closer to you, rearranging your features into mock offense.

“Nice try but you already gave it to me so it’s mine now.” As if to stake your claim, you lifted one of your fries and pointedly ran your tongue across it before dropping it back amidst its brethren. You repeated the stunt with the top of your sandwich, too caught up in your joke to notice the way his eyes followed the action. “See? Would you really want those now?”

“Jesus, you didn’t have to slobber all over them, Scooby Doo.” You stuck out your tongue again and he pretended to cringe away. With a giggle you picked up your food, taking a bite and finding that you liked it far more than you expected, just as you did your companion.

After the food was consumed (Jay still managing to take a portion of yours hostage, not that you minded terribly) and your energy appropriately restored, you let him lead you from the quaint restaurant and resume your wandering. A glance at the perpetually gray sky, now several shades closer to the black of night, told you that it was probably time to get going if you didn't want to be stuck in Seattle until the morning. Before you could voice these concerns and your need to find the nearest bus stop, however, Jay stopped abruptly, you nearly crashing into him for the second time that day.

“What the heck Jay, say something before you stop like that!”

“Sorry,” he murmured with the presence of mind to look a little abashed at your reprimand. “This is my stop, though.”

“Your-- what?” At last you glanced at the building before you and were surprised to find a hotel. Oh. Of course, he was just visiting so he was probably staying here.

All at once it hit you. This was it. Jay would go inside to his hotel room, you'd board an overcrowded bus, and you'd never see him again except on sns and splashed across articles by zealous netizens. He would go back to Korea and lose himself in his music, and his memories of this day would disappear somewhere over the Atlantic. Your heart twisted painfully at the thought, but you did your best to hide it with another teasing grin.

“Why Mr. Park, what will the keyboard warriors say if they find out I was at your hotel? I should probably leave before they find us!” You made a show of glancing around as if looking for spies in the long shadows of the streetlights and he offered you a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

“You know… I'm still going to be around for a few days.” Your eyes dart back to him, though his gaze is focused on the cracked city sidewalk, hand resting on the back of his neck in blatant nervousness. You tell your heart to stop hoping so it won't be crushed later. “We could… Do this again.” Too late. But his words still take you by surprise, washing all other coherent thought from your mind.

“I… What? Huh?” Smooth.

“Today was fun, and I want to see you again,” he says, the words spilling out into the cracks between you rushed, as if he’s afraid taking too long will change your mind. A tentative smile spreads your lips.

“Really?” Your voice is small, hushed with the ghost of a younger girl with a dream like this, hoping against hope that it was really coming to life.

“Really. Gimme your phone.” You slide the device from your pocket and place it in his hand, committing the warm brush of his fingers against yours to memory. With anxious eyes you watch as they fly across your screen and then suddenly you're looking at a string of numbers with his name across the top. “Call me as soon as possible.” Bubbling over with happiness, a giggle escapes you as you tuck your phone away.

“Okay.” He smiles properly at your acquiescence and you think you could get used to seeing it, even if the return of your skipping heart tries to remind you no, you never would.

“It's getting late, you should probably go before it gets too sketchy.” You roll your eyes.

“This place is always sketchy,” you shoot back. “But I guess I should. If I miss the next bus I'll be stuck out here for another half an hour.” And yet neither of you moves. You, because you are afraid the moment you turn away this will all become a beautiful dream and he'll vanish with it, and he because of a reason you don't know and don't dare to guess. But it's now or never, so with your heart in your stomach you wave and turn away. You make it maybe three steps before those already familiar fingers close around your wrist, yanking you back around with a Wait.

And then before you can say anything or process how you're so much closer to him than you've dared to be all day, or the way his arms feel around your waist, or how wow his eyes are way nicer up close, his lips are on yours and holy shit this is the last thing you expected but you definitely don't object. Especially when you lean up just a bit and you realize that you can feel his heart beating just as fast as yours when it occurs to him that you're actually kissing him back.

It's only a second, a breathless, heart-pounding, everything you've ever wanted in the world, second and then he's pulling away, staring at you in a way that has your stomach doing back flips. And then, in true Jay fashion, he ruins the moment entirely to mumble you forgot this.

And fuck if that cheesy line doesn't make you want to kiss him again.