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thatnewweeb · 5 months ago

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Childhood Sweethearts | Bakugo Katsuki

Summary | You moved to America when you were young, having to leave behind your childhood sweetheart. After moving back to Japan, you'll find out if things have changed between you two

Content | Fluff, honestly I can't think of any warnings for this so let me know if you see anything that needs a warning

Word Count | 1.7k+

A/N | I love the idea of Bakugo being in love with someone through his whole life, I have no idea why. At the time of posting, I wrote this forever ago

It had been almost 5 whole years since you moved away. You missed home. It wasn't like you'd wanted to move away in the first place, but your dad's job took you away from Japan all the way to America.

Finally, at 18 years old, you finally convinced your parents to allow you to move home. Having attended an elite hero school for the past 2 years, you managed to have some special arrangements made for your return home.

And so, that is how you got to where you are now, nervously walking down the halls of UA next to Principal Nezu. He had spent the first half hour of the morning before classes began showing you around and explaining a few things to you.

At the start of homeroom at 8:25AM, he walks you to the classroom of Class 3-A, the class you will be joining, starting today.

Everyone looks over as the door opens, the principal strolling in and standing at the front of the class. You follow nervously. These people have had nearly 3 whole years to get to know each other, and here you are, the new girl joining in the final year, not knowing anyone.

At least, you didn't think you knew anyone, until you force yourself to look at the class properly.

Your eyes immediately fall on a blond boy in the second row. His own eyes are widened, locked onto you. A moment later, you rip your eyes away from him, prompting him to look away also.

When you realise Nezu has stopped speaking and is now looking at you, you snap out of it and look at the whole class.

"My name is Y/N. I have two Quirks, which I am sure I will have more time sometime soon to explain. I look forward to spending this year with you." You say and bow slightly to the class.

Your homeroom teacher, Aizawa, points you to your assigned seat, so you sit down quietly, not saying another word.

It isn't until lunch, almost four hours later, that you say anything else, besides answering questions in class. Your fourth period was English with Present Mic. Having lived in an English-speaking country for almost 5 years, it was quite an easy class for you.

Almost as soon as you are dismissed from class, you're surrounded by people, wanting to talk to you, get to know you. You're fine with that, but you did have someone else you wanted to talk to. They already walked out the door though.

"Y/N!" Someone says, popping up in front of you out of nowhere.

"Izuku!" You smile, excitedly throwing your arms around your old friend.

You see a brown-haired girl blushing as she watches you hugging Midoriya.

"I can't believe you're here! I didn't know you were coming back!"

You nod. "I know, I'm sorry I didn't say anything."

He shakes his head, wanting to reassure you. "It's okay! We fell out of touch, that's not anyone's fault."

Izuku invites you to spend lunch break with him and his friends, being introduced to them all, him explaining a little about how he got into UA at all.

After classes have finished for the day, you don't give Bakugo the chance to run. As soon as you're dismissed from class, you walk over to his desk, standing in front of it and resting your hands on the surface.

"It's nice to see you again, Katsuki." You smirk.

He looks up at you from his chair briefly, quickly looking away. “Yeah, it is.”

You lean down so you’re closer to his height, him still avoiding eye contact. “Would you mind walking me back to the dorm? I haven’t actually been there yet, Nezu didn’t have time to take me.”

He tuts but stands up, picking up his bag and slinging it over your shoulder. Not saying a thing, he leaves the classroom, you following him. You know what he’s like, you know to follow.

As soon as you're out of the halls and outside, he decides to say something. "I didn't know you were coming back." He mutters.

You're just happy to hear him say something to you. "Yeah. I know."

He takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

You pause where you are, stunned. You hadn't expected him to apologise to you.

When you don't say anything, he sighs and turns to you, also stopping walking. "I shouldn't have stopped responding. I was upset you were gone, and I went about things in the stupidest way. I... I regret it."

It takes a moment for you to say anything, blinking in shock. "It's okay." You smile brightly up at him. "I understand. It was hard on both of us, after all."

"Yeah, but I ghosted you. I shouldn't have done that. Not to you, you don't deserve that."

"I agree you shouldn't have done it, dummy. But I'm saying I understand, okay?"

He smiles a little, looking down at you. "Come on, let's go to the dorms." He tugs on your backpack, indicating that you should take it off. When you do, he slings one strap over his shoulder, carrying it for you.

"Since when did you become a gentleman?" You ask with a small laugh, making him grunt a 'shut up' to you, his cheeks going slightly pink.

Finally reaching the dorms, Bakugo opens the door for you, letting you into the large building.

Everyone else is already there, the people in the communal area looking at you as you enter. Other than Izuku, people seem a little surprised to see you with Bakugo, and even more surprised that he doesn't look as annoyed as he typically does.

With everyone staring, Katsuki shoves your bag back into your arms before walking over to the stairs to go to his room.

You smile a little as you watch him, shaking your head.

Izuku is the first person to come up to you, smiling. "Everyone wants to get to know you a little. If you have some time, come sit with us?"

You do what he says, walking over and taking a seat between him and a boy with a black streak in mostly blond hair.

You end up spending a couple hours with them, telling them about your Quirk and what it's like to live in America. When they ask about you seemingly already knowing both Izuku and Katsuki, you tell them that you grew up with them.

A girl with pink skin, who you learn is Mina, asks you for some stupid stories about them as kids, Izuku going red and telling you that you don't have to talk about anything you don't want to, trying to save himself the embarrassment.

Even though you're unsure if Bakugo will be annoyed at you for telling them this, you also tell them a few stories from when you and him were dating before you left for America.

Everyone seems surprised, a small uproar coming from the class. No one had ever even seen an indication that he had ever been interested in anyone, yet alone had a girlfriend. It appeared to be a ludicrous idea to most of them.

Kaminari seems to deflate a little upon realising you dated one of his best friends. Guess he thought you were pretty.

Not long after, you go find your room, needing to unpack. Right before you close the door, a foot stops it from closing. A second later, Bakugo comes into view.

"Well, hello there." You smirk a little, looking up at him.

He smirks back, placing a hand on the doorframe, standing in front of you. "Hey. Care if I come in?"

You move out the way for him to come in but tell him it's a little messy because you're still unpacking.

He doesn't even look at the room, closing the door as soon as he's inside and standing close to you, essentially pinning you between him and the door.

That's when you really realise how much he's changed. He's so much taller now than when you last saw him, his shoulders broader, entire body more muscular, a few visible scars now. The whole thing makes you a little flustered.

"So, do you have a little American boyfriend now?" He asks with a slight snarl, expression turning into a smirk as soon as you shake your head. "No? Then, would you mind if I kissed you?" He whispers in your ear.

You don't verbally respond, but the look on your face gives him the answer he needs. He keeps one hand on the wall, the other coming to rest on your waist, leaning in and pressing his lips against yours. Your own hands find your way to his chest, gripping onto his shirt.

A moment later, he pulls away a little, smirking. "Guess we haven't missed a beat, huh?"

You laugh, not letting go of his shirt. "Suki, you're an ass." You say, making him laugh too.

"Yeah, but you love it." He whispers, leaning in to kiss you again. "It's starting to get late, and you haven't finished unpacking yet. If you wanted to stay in my room tonight, you're welcome to."

You look up at him, a little surprised by the proposal. When he sees the look on your face, he panics a small amount. "I didn't mean it like that! I meant we can spend the night sleeping together- no, not sleeping together! Not like that! I just meant- we- we can- I meant-"

You giggle at his nervousness, making him look a little angry. You move your hands to rest on his cheeks, standing on your tiptoes and smashing your lips against his.

When you finally break the kiss again, both a little breathless, he stares at you, mouth open slightly.

"Sorry, I had to find a way to shut you up." You smile. "I'd love to cuddle tonight, Suki."

He looks relieved, taking your hand. "Come on, let's go."

You spend the rest of the night in Bakugo's dorm, cuddling and eventually falling asleep in his bed.

Before he falls asleep, he spends a few moments just watching you, barely being able to believe that he got lucky enough to get you back into his life. He gives you a soft kiss on the forehead, holding you tighter, closing his own eyes and falling asleep.

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golden-cherry · 1 year ago

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deal - cl16 (19/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: There's so much going on in Charles' brain, but having to come clean with his feelings is the hardest.

Warnings: 18+ (mentions of fingering, masturbating), angst, swear words, Lando being a little shit

Word Count: 3.4k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: sorry. and happy season finale. let’s hope for a better 2024.

Charles has never been so happy about a pot of plants.

After you slammed the door in his face, he barely made it to the street before throwing up in the nearest plant pot. His fingers clawed around the hard ceramic edges as his body struggled against the nasty words he spat at you.

He doesn't even know why he was so mean to you.

Was it because you had a wonderful evening last night? Because you two got so close that you both almost kissed? Because you fell asleep next to each other and he slept incredibly well? Or because Lando texted him in the middle of the night and asked what your favorite food was so that he could do everything right on your date?

Maybe he does know why he was so mean to you.

"Charles? Concentrate, please," he is snapped out of his thoughts and Charles sits up a little straighter in his chair. He can feel something crack in his spine.

The meeting has been going on for hours. So long, in fact, that the private chefs in Maranello have already had to bring food to the room four times, with the last meal being dinner. Charles has eaten so much pasta and bruschetta that he feels sick just looking at the leftovers on the table in front of him. And the water with the slice of lemon in the glass in front of him no longer tastes very refreshing.

No matter what he eats or drinks, he can't get rid of the disgusting taste in his mouth.

He wonders if your "I hate you" is as heavy on your stomach as the nasty words are on his. He would love to take back everything he spat in your face. Turn back time and undo everything. But he can't do that. Unfortunately.

He'd love to bang his head on the tabletop.

In fact, he can barely remember what he said. It's as if his brain short circuited, has had some kind of blackout, or as if a bomb has gone off and wiped everything out. Which doesn't excuse any of it. But from your hurt look, the tears in your eyes and your venomous response, it was so unacceptable that he'd like to slap himself for it.

It wasn't the first time Lando had asked Charles for dating help and they are actually such good friends that Charles has always been happy to help him. But the fact that the Brit asked for help so that he could take you out nicely - that doesn't sit right with him. Which is complete nonsense, because he has no reason to. He has no claim of ownership over you. And besides, he didn't want to kiss you in the bookstore.

Although that's not entirely true either.

He did want to kiss you. Desperately. And you'd been so close all day, you'd shown him your favorite place and everything had pointed to you wanting to make the move to something more - and then you gave him that look when he asked you for a dance. And he can understand why you didn't want to. After all, it's your place, your favorite place, and never would Charles do anything to tarnish that place in any way. Create a memory that you would later regret.

The Petit Mondes is your safe haven. And as much as Charles wants you - and he definitely does - he wouldn't cross that line.

Since you've known each other, Charles has had to fight every waking - and to be honest, every sleeping - moment not to jump you. He can't stop thinking about you standing in front of him half-naked in a towel. Or how you turned around just a few steps away from him before dinner with his friends to show him your outfit. How you slept next to him and dreamt - dreamt of him. A moment he will never forget.

Although he is actually a late riser, Charles woke up early that morning. Not because he had slept in, but because he was warm. Contrary to his expectations, it wasn't because of the comforter or the heating, but because you were lying half on top of him. Your head was resting against his shirt-clad chest, one of your legs was draped over his hip, while your arm was wrapped around his middle.

At first, he didn't understand what was going on at all. He wanted to lift his arm to rub the sleep from his eyes, but he was met with resistance in the form of a lightly clad, sleeping beauty. His arm was wrapped around your waist, his hand was a little too high on your ribs to pass for being friendly, and by God - he hadn't felt this comfortable in ages.

Feeling your closeness had triggered something in him that confused him, but at the same time made him incredibly relaxed. He had pulled you closer to him, pressed you against him and enjoyed your warmth. For a moment, he had even considered whether he should just pull you all over him so that he could be as close to you as possible.

Before he could think about how wrong that would be and how many boundaries he would be crossing, you had turned in his arms so that your back was against his chest. Your body molded perfectly against his, your warmth engulfing him, but nothing could have prepared him for the fact that you were going to move your butt a little in his direction, right up against his crotch.

Charles had been awake in a flash and while you continued to sleep soundly, all the blood from his brain had rushed to his dick. Embarrassed, he'd squinted and focused on something else - Ferrari strategies, Joris last Christmas with the Leclercs, anything - and had scooted back a few inches to stick his hand down his pants so he could fix his raging boner.

But alas, you'd followed him like a magnet, squirming against him like you knew exactly what you were doing, so that his cock was wedged between your ass cheeks. Your body had been so warm, so soft against his hard one, that he had to stifle a moan.

Something you hadn't been able to do. If you hadn't been so close to him, he would have missed your soft gasp of his name. That's when he blew a fuse.

He would have loved to wake you up with kisses along your neck, let his fingers wander slowly over your skin until they finally disappeared into your panties. He would have let them glide through your folds and collect your wetness before gently rubbing your bundle of nerves. You would have turned to him and moaned into his mouth as he slid one of his fingers into your tight walls.

He'd never escaped his bedroom so quickly and quietly and jumped into the freezing cold shower.

The water felt like fine pinpricks as it splashed down on his burning hot skin, but no matter how cold he turned it on - his cock stood angry and proud. He put his head back in despair, his brain vehemently refusing to see his friend in this light, to desire you like this. But before he could do anything about it, his fingers had wrapped themselves around his aching cock. His imagination ran away with him, too many images popped up in his mind's eye as he squeezed it twice in the hope of relieving some tension. But the only thing it triggered was the feeling of a moment ago, when his cock was against your ass.

He was almost ashamed of how quickly he came.

He just hoped you didn't notice when he came back into the bedroom and woke you up with it. He had thought about lying back next to you, but had decided on the foot of the bed to create some distance.

The fact that you were dreaming about him threw him off course. And he'd really wanted to kiss you - by God, he'd wanted to do even kinkier things to you - but the timing never seemed right.

And then Lando's message came.

The vibration in his pocket brings him back to the present. Charles takes a quick look around to make sure he's not the center of the conversation, then glances at his phone.

Lando: You need to come home now.

He looks at the screen, confused. Why the hell is Lando texting him? Lando of all people? Did you tell him all the things Charles threw at you? How badly he treated you?

Charles: I'm in Maranello.

If you really did confide in Lando, his answer sounds pathetic. Why else would Lando text him? His friend certainly knows that Charles screwed up. And also that you want to move out of the apartment. But does the Brit really believe that Charles could change your mind when he's the reason you're moving out?

Lando's answer comes immediately.

Lando: I don't care. Get your ass over here.

The Monegasque turns on the keypad lock on his cell phone and places it on the table in front of him. It wouldn't make any difference if he went home now and tried to change your mind. What could happen is that his presence would only strengthen your decision to move out. Besides, he doesn't know how he's ever going to face you again.

Before he can think about it, his cell phone starts ringing. The eyes of his co-workers land on him and he apologizes with a quiet "mi dispiace" before leaving the meeting, phone in hand. Out in the corridor, he doesn't even need to look at the screen to know who is calling.

"If you don't go back to Monaco immediately, I'll come to Italy myself to get you," Lando snaps at him and Charles has to hold the receiver away from his ear to stop his eardrums from bursting.

"Hi, Lando."

"Don't give me 'Hi, Lando'. Get your fucking ass over here."

Charles rubs his forehead before running his whole hand over his face. "I can't just leave here."

"Don't talk shit like that. We both know you're not up for the meeting," the Brit replies bitchily. "Don't act like you don't have a choice."

The Monegasque rolls his eyes. "What do you want to hear from me now, Lando?"

The answer comes like a shot from a gun. "I want to know what you've been up to! Are you completely stupid?"

Charles would like to know the answer too.

"You go home right now, explain your shitty behaviour and apologize."

"And you're interfering because...?" His tone is cold.

"Because I was in your apartment all evening and had to watch how devastated Y/N was. I'd love to kill you for it."

"Go ahead and do it. She sure as hell wouldn't mind."

He swears he hears Lando take a deep breath on the other end of the line.

"I'm going to tell you this once. Just once, Charles. And I'm saying this for her sake, because I still have hope that you're the person I was praising to her."

Praising? If you've told Lando everything, then you've certainly told Charles everything about the Brit. That he just wants to get you into bed. So why would Lando want to help him?

"What you did was absolute bullshit, Charles. Totally below the belt and you've never acted as fucking shit as you just did."

Charles rolls his eyes. "Is there anything positive coming?"

"Shut up, you idiot. I don't know what you've done in the few days you've known each other to make her so crazy about you, but I don't have to. Any blind man can see there's something between you. Something good. So go home now and save what can be saved before she really decides to leave the country."

Charles, who had just been leaning against the wall, stands up straight. "The country? I thought she just wanted to move out."

"She's been thinking about it, asshole. United States, Australia. Something really far away from you."

"But she has her job here, at that one magazine. There's no way she'd leave like that."

"She got fired, motherfucker. Before you made your weird deal. Nothing's keeping her here anymore. So get your ass over here now before she really decides to take off."

How could Charles be so blind? He knows the magazine, his mom reads it occasionally and he actually knows that a new issue comes out every week. You've known each other for five days - five days that you've spent entirely with him. Something that would definitely not be possible with such a full-time job.

"And what do you want from me now? That I drop everything to go home even though she doesn't want to see me?"

"I've never seen anyone as stupid as you."

"Can you stop with the insults?" Charles snaps through the phone.

"You have nothing to say to me, you arsehole. She told me what you said about me. You owe it to us to go off and try to make things right."

Charles can't help but laugh. "Us? So you two are already an us?" He doesn't know why he's talking to one of his closest friends like this. Especially when the latter only wants to help put things right that Charles has messed up. The Monegasque has no reason to be angry. But the disgusting taste in his mouth, which he hasn't been able to get rid of for hours, is not anger. Unfortunately, he only realizes it now.

He's fucking jealous. And he can't do anything about it.

"We're friends, but apparently you don't know what the word stands for," Lando replies snippily. "Go home, explain to her why you behaved so badly and apologize to her." His voice softens, warmer than it has been throughout the phone call. "Charles, I know you're being careful because you're afraid of getting hurt again. And I can understand that, I really can." He takes a deep breath. "But it's Y/N we're talking about here. Sit down and talk to each other, be honest, and then it'll all work out."

Charles' gaze wanders to the huge Ferrari logo hanging on the wall next to him and his bad guilt returns. You don't even know who he is. To you, he's Charles, the roommate who shows you beautiful places, introduces you to his friends and with whom you share a bed. You are the only person who knows him as Charles and not as Charles Leclerc.

What would you think of him if the cat was out of the bag? When you see who he really is, including the spotlight? What happens if you like Charles, but not Charles Leclerc? He doesn't know if he could handle it. His job is his life, he's on the road all year round and what little time he has he has to divide between friends and family.

That's why his relationship with Annika failed. She was right about what she threw at him. That you always have to wait for him and that it's not fair. And she knew what she was getting into from the start. But you don't. You would be thrown in at the deep end if you decided to go for it. If you chose him.

"I don't think it's that easy," Charles says quietly, and he has to suppress the tremor in his voice. "She - she doesn't deserve this life. This risk. She - she," he takes a deep breath and has to wipe away the tear running down his cheek. "She's too good for me. She deserves someone great."

"How strange," Lando replies. "That's exactly what she says about you. So get in the car and apologize. I'm sure you'll be able to sort it out. And if you say shit like that about me again, I'll drive you into the wall in Bahrain next year."

Charles curls his mouth into a thin smile. "I'm truly sorry, Lando. And thank you for everything."

"I'm just absolutely the best." Charles can almost hear his grin before the Brit hangs up.

When the Monegasque re-enters the meeting room, all eyes are on him. With deliberate steps, he walks to his chair and grabs his jacket before looking at his team boss. "I'm going home."

His boss crosses his arms in front of his chest. "You can't just leave like that, Charles. We need to talk about next season and everything that's gone wrong this year."

"I can tell you exactly what happened," the brunette replies as he zips up his jacket. "The strategies this year were all for the trash, you screwed me over and you cost me the title." He grabs his wallet and car keys from the table in front of him. "Make sure things go better next year. After all, it doesn't get any shittier than this. See you next year. Have a good holiday."

He knows that his Ferrari can drive fast. And he also knows that he shouldn't drive that fast. But the roads home are empty and he wants to get to you as quickly as possible, in the hope that you haven't left the apartment yet. The accelerator pedal is almost stuck to the floor and he would certainly have to pay a heavy fine if the police caught him speeding. But apparently luck is on his side and it takes him just over three hours to turn onto the streets of Monaco.

The closer he gets to your apartment, the faster his heart beats and he can feel himself starting to sweat. What's the best way to start the apology?

I'm sorry I was so shitty to you, but it was because -

I behaved like crap, but it was only because -

I'm sorry I was such a bad friend, but you should have -

Wow. It actually all sounds like shit.

Maybe Lando is right. Maybe the most reasonable thing would be for Charles to just be honest, even if it means destroying everything between you. But you deserve the truth.

I'm sorry I said those bad things to you and I'm sorry I hurt you. Of course, apologizing can't undo any of it, but if you gave me the chance, I could explain myself to you. I was jealous because we had such a nice evening and then I find out you planned a date with one of my friends. I wanted to kiss you in the bookstore, I've wanted you ever since we met. You've been messing with my head from the beginning, taking over my heart and I can't think straight when you're with me. Maybe it's crazy because we've only known each other for five days, but I've never felt about someone the way I feel about you. I'm in lo-

His train of thought stops abruptly as he turns into the street. A green Nissan is parked on the sidewalk in front of your apartment, the driver's door is open and the hazard lights illuminate the walls of the house.

Charles worriedly parks at the next opportunity before jumping out of the car and dashing to the front door, which is wide open. He can already hear angry voices from outside, a male voice that almost shouts the whole house awake.

And your voice, angry and rough and shaky, as if you were at the end of your tether.

Charles sprints up the few steps to your apartment and stops like a flash on the top step when he sees you. You're wearing your pyjamas, your hair is disheveled, as if you've run your hand through it several times, and when you see him, you snap your eyes open as if you've seen a ghost.

But it's not the sight of you that makes Charles' blood boil.

It's Raphael's, who follows your gaze and takes a step back when he realizes who he's facing. "Your roommate is Charles Leclerc?"

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whatispersonalspacejyp · 26 days ago

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My Toy

Genre: Filthy smut... oh and a bit of fluff at the end

Pairing: Lee Felix x female reader

Word count: 830

Summary: Your cat hybrid and boyfriend is in heat, you help him out.

Warning: degradation, breeding kink, humiliation, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple rounds, hair pulling, voyeurism

Original Date: 24 April 2020

Requested: yes

You woke up by a sleeping Felix who was humping you in his sleep. You turned away from Felix so he would stop. But he was quickly next to you again so you got out of bed and got ready to start the day.

"Today's cleaning the living room. Let's go!"

Felix woke up minutes later, feeling disorientated. "Shit." He mumbles as he noticed his bulge. "Now she's gone too." He quickly stood up and walked to the bathroom to get rid of his morning wood.

After he was done with that he searched for you.

You plopped down on the couch after cleaning the living room and let out a breath. Felix crawled on top of you and started grinding on you. You couldn’t help but moan to this touch. “You like this don’t you? Being my submissive little breeding toy.” Felix whispered in your ear with his voice even lower than before. You let out a moan as an answer, which satisfied Felix.

Felix grabs your pants and panties and swiftly pulls them off in one move. Felix also removed his pants and boxers and lined his cock with your entrance, before entering you until he was fully inside. He didn’t wait for you to adjust to his size as he slams back into you. “You’re so tight, that all for me. You would look so great, caring for my kittens.” Felix moved your shirt up a bit and stroke your belly, feeling a little bump as he was fully inside.

You were screaming in pleasure, your whole mind was foggy as Felix used you. You threw you head back, giving Felix access to your neck. Where he left licks and hickeys. At this point you were close. “Lix... Lix I’m...” You couldn’t make out the words as Felix slams within a faster pace into you. “Oh god.” you felt the knot in your stomach release and you came all over his dick.

You tried to squirm away from Felix, but he didn’t like this one way. Felix pulled out and turned you around so you were on all four, then he slams back into you. Felix grabs your hair and jerks your head backward. “Such a perfect toy, all for me.” You couldn’t help but whine at his words as he continued to abuse your hole. “I’m gonna fill you up with my cum.” One of Felix's hands went under your shirt to play with your nipples. You felt another knot forming in your stomach, which made you whine more. Felix noticed this and moved his hand to your clit and rub it. This made you cry out of pleasure, Felix moved his other hand from your hips to your head and pushed it on the couch. “If someone looks through the window they see me using you as a cum slut, you surely like that I can feel it. You tighten around my cock as I said those words. Is that what you like, people looking at you as I use you?”

You screamed out a yes as you came again. Felix’s trusts became sloppy at this moment he cums in you. He leans down on your body and kisses you shoulder blades. “Good girl, take all my cum.” Felix’s hands were on your hips to keep them still. You wimped at the sensation of him filling you up with his cum.

After a minute or two Felix pulled out and his cum drips from your hole. Felix finally let your whole body collapse on the couch. Felix looks at you fondly and stood up to fill a bath. “Y/n come on.” He pulls you up and to the bathroom, where he throws your shirt in the laundry basket and then lifts you into the bath before joining himself.

Felix was now cleaning your body, mixing it with a massage. “I’m sorry if I was to rough. I should have told you I was in heat” You showed Felix a tired smile. “It’s okay Lix, I liked it.” Felix kissed the back of your head and got out after he was done. Felix wraps a towel around his waist and holds a big fluffy one open for you. You decided that it was time to get out since the water was getting cold.

With wobbly legs, you stepped out and walked into Felix’ arms, who wraps the towel around you. You leaned against Felix since you were very tired. So Felix decided that just one this one possible at this moment. He lifts you up bridal style and grabs you some underwear for the both of you. He puts his boxers on and then put some panties on, on you and a shirt that belonged to him.

Then Felix snuggled up to you and hold you close to him. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too Felix.” You said as your eyes dropped and fell into a deep slumber again your warm boyfriend.

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kumkaniudaku · 3 months ago

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Stay A While (BONUS)

Summary: A peak into the future.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 1,865

Warnings: None. Fun fluff!

A/N: Sorry, y'all. I had some more left in the tank.

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

As a bright sun began to set over the Fayetteville horizon to transform the bright cerulean sky to one glowing with orange and purple hues, 22 young men huddled at the 50-yard line of Francis High School’s freshly lined football field. The wind lightly blew around them for a welcomed cool breeze while they ran through yet another play before their first playoff game of the season.

“Defense, we in man coverage. Offense, run a Go. We need to tighten up this late-game execution. How you gon’ react under pressure? Show me somethin’ boys!”

While the head coach rattled off instructions to the team, Terry stood nearby with his arms folded and eyes intently focused on the two wide receivers occupying the field. Cam and CT Wilson were tall and lean twin boys who reminded him of how he looked by senior year except they were sophomores with room to grow. He told them on day one that they were physical specimens with unreal speed and high IQ made for a few semesters at Clemson if they could focus through the head-spinning four years that made up their high school experience. He promised their father that he’d be there to guide them through it all save for a few months during Spring practices.

“Cam, you goin’ inside on this one. You remember the count,” he hollered out from the sideline.

“Locked in!”

Terry answered with a thumbs up and adjusted his stance for optimal comfort. The child-sized weight on his shoulders was starting to get heavy but he knew the tongue-lashing that awaited him if he dared to make a false move.

“He goes too slow. Make him count fast so he won’t drop, Daddy.”

The small voice from above made him look up for confirmation to find her already looking down at him with a scrunched nose and missing teeth that resembled her mother when she was that age.

“You sure?”

“Just watch.”

Together, they watched the play unfold. Terry counted along in his head to time when the ball should leave the quarterback’s hand in comparison to where Cameron should’ve been on the field. Sure enough, he was a step slow causing the quarterback to throw the ball slightly ahead of him for a bobbled pass.

“Hm,” he grunted more to himself than anyone else. “I’ll be damned. Aye, Cam, come here for a second!”

Above him, perched on her throne, Nyla Naomi Richmond rested a smart tablet on her father’s head to watch film from the previous game like she always did. Her mahogany skin was shiny under the bright white LED lights illuminating the field from her mother’s overzealous lotioning before they left home. Per her request, Terry had braided half of her hair back to give way to a collection of moisturized zigzag coils for first-grade picture day. Glasses rested at the tip of her nose with a bright yellow strap to keep them attached to her face. She kept her attention focused on the tablet’s screen, even as Cam jogged toward her and her father on the sideline.

“Yeah, Coach? I do something wrong.”

“Too slow,” Nyla answered without looking up. “Speed up. You’re like a turtle out there. We gotta win, man!”

Terry and Cameron chuckled together as Terry tapped the top of Cam’s helmet.

“A little quicker on the count, man. If you get there when you’re supposed to, that’s a catch all day. Make ‘em beat you. Don’t beat yourself.”

“Type shit. I got you, Coach.”

“Hey! Don’t say bad words.”

“My fault, Coach Ny. Can I do my pushups later?”

“Yeah yeah yeah.”

Cam laughed at her dismissal before accepting a fist bump from Terry and rejoining the field. Terry couldn’t contain his smile as he reached up to tickle his firstborn's sides for that high-pitched giggle he loved so much.

“Be nice, MiMi. Remember the rule?” He craned his neck to look up at her for the lesson he’d been struggling to get through her head since she began joining practice.

She sighed dramatically and frowned. “Be hard on the work, not the person. I know, I know.”

“Be better next time, champ. We’re here to help, not hurt.”

“Yes sir.”

“Yes sir,” he repeated to mock her childish grumble. “You’re so mean like your mama. Gimme a kiss.”

Like she always did, Nyla lifted her daddy’s cap to kiss the crown of his head before placing the hat backward atop her own head.

From the day she first showed herself in a routine sonogram, Terry knew she’d be a firecracker. She refused to show her face to him and Patrice. She carefully concealed her features during an expensive 3D scan and almost hid her gender had they not caught her during an in-utero nap.

She came into the world kicking and screaming at a long 24 inches and a head clean as a whistle just like her pops. With Patrice, she was the perfect baby. She slept all night, cooed and babbled when spoken to, and grew into a little girl who loved to cuddle into her mommy while they watched Pixar movies on the weekends. With Terry, she was a hell-raiser. Loud and rambunctious with a love for NFL games on Sunday afternoons and playful wrestling on the living room rug.

Their smart girl had her hand in everything imaginable and, when they’d listen to other parents complain about the difficulty of raising young ones during playdates and birthday parties, they always came away feeling like they’d lucked out with Nyla.

Across the way, Patrice stepped onto the newly refinished running track with the cheerleading team for warm-ups. Under her school t-shirt, her belly protruded enough to tell anyone looking hard enough that she was expecting. Behind her, she pulled a cooler meant to supply the football team with cold water and snacks for the next day.

“Mrs. Richmond, you want me to help you? You always be actin’ like you Superwoman or somethin’.” her captain called out from behind her, jogging to catch up with Patrice’s long stride.

Patrice waved her off. “Nuh-uh. Y’all start stretching. I need to drop this off personally.”

“Uh-huh. You going to your little boyfriend. Being fast!”

“I learned from you, Z.”

“Not you in my business!”

Patrice’s loud laughter created an echo in the stadium, becoming a bat signal for Terry and Nyla’s attention.

“Hey, Mommy!”

Nyla rushed to hop off Terry’s shoulders like he was a jungle gym, unconcerned with any harm she inflicted with her long legs as she shimmied down his body. He winced in pain until she was safely on the ground before lightly trotting behind her to greet his wife.

Seven years of marriage hadn’t changed much of their love. They’d navigated the growing pains of newlywed life and parenthood to come out stronger on the other side. So much stronger that they’d neglected to follow through on contraceptives to keep their family of three from growing to a family of four. Their parents called a second pregnancy a blessing. And though they mostly felt the same, they also knew that baby number two was the result of too much booze and ignoring the cycle tracker during a kid-free night in Charlotte.

Patrice braced herself for impact once Nyla got closer and wrapped her body around her legs.

“Hey, baby,” she greeted, rubbing circles at the center of her back. “You look so pretty. Did you finish your homework?”

“Mhm! I got 100 on my math test, too!”

“Alriiight! That’s my smart bestie. Now you gotta pick a place for dinner this weekend.”

“Can we get piz-”

“A place that is not buffet pizza again. Pick something else.” Terry interjected, making Nyla groan. Dad’s word was final whether she liked it or not. His eyes flickered to Patrice’s still for extra confirmation. Mom’s word was final final.

She offered a small smile while zhushing the back of Nyla’s hair. “Try something new, Naomi. Maybe chicken tenders this time?”

Nyla accepted her parents’ redirection with another dramatic sigh that made Terry and Patrice stifle laughter.

“I know, mama. It’s so hard being six years old. We can write a book about it tonight when we get home so you can help your little sister or brother when they get here.”

“I hope it’s a girl. Boys are boring.”

Neither of them could muster a response before Nyla abandoned them to supervise the cheerleaders as they started to run through cheers.

They waited in silence until she was out of earshot to face each other with equally broad smiles.

Terry spoke up first as he reached down to take the cooler’s handle from Patrice’s hand.

“Didn’t I tell you from the jump she’d be a second you?”

“Oh no, she’s a second DeeDee. She might have my mom’s middle name but she is your mama through and through.”

“Touché.” Terry chuckled. That’s why the duo got along so well. They were twin flames in more ways than one.

A lull in the conversation made Patrice subconsciously bring her hand up to her stomach for a soft rub. Terry looked on with a fond smile, proud of the way her wedding ring reflected the light back into the night sky like a star on the ground.

He pushed the cooler to the side and grabbed her free hand to pull her into a side hug. He kissed her temple several times over, making Patrice giggle like a schoolgirl at the sensation.

“We make a cute kid, don’t we?”

Patrice hummed and closed her eyes for a brief second to feel the full press of his chest on her body and his arms squeezing a little tighter than before. “So cute. She talks too much, but that’s okay.”

“Wonder where she gets that from?”

“Her damn daddy.”

The vibration from Terry’s deep baritone encased in laughter tingled against Patrice’s arm to cover her in warmth from head to toe. A whistle and call of his name from the field snapped both of them from their semi-private moment, making them reluctantly pull away.

Terry leaned down to kiss the corner of her lips as a parting gift before slyly sneaking the tip of his tongue into her mouth. She playfully pushed him to save them from the embarrassment of taking it too far in public.

“C’mon, MiMi, we not done yet.” Patrice watched Nylah quickly ditch her squad to meet her daddy’s outstretched arms for him to place her back on his shoulders and rejoin the team. He called back over his shoulder for her attention. “I love you, baby! Go get off your feet!”

“Sit down, Mommy!”

“Yeah, sit down, Mrs. Richmond!”

Patrice wore a semi-serious scowl on her face and threw her hands up to stop the barrage of demands.

“Woah, woah, woah! I am grown,” she hollered back to everyone in the area. She began the slow journey toward her team and clapped her hands. “Just for that, let me see that Hot To Go routine. If you mess up, you owe me a lap.”

A collection of teenage girl groans made Patrice crack a smile.

Maybe Terry was right.

---

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @hrlzy @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl

#terry richmond #terry richmond x oc #rebel ridge #aaron pierre

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back2bluesidex · 10 months ago

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Where Do Broken Hearts Go - Chapter 5 (18+)

Pairing: Model, ex-boyfriend!Jungkook X Child psychologist, Fem!Reader X Lawyer, Single Dad!Hoseok.

Summary: Jungkook stripped your emotions naked, left you bare in the chilly wind of despair and self-doubt with an unending heartache. You tried your hardest to move on from him, to live for yourself but failed miserably. Each night you had to come back to your empty home where memories and broken dreams were scattered all around the floor, until one day a little angel and her unbelievably beautiful father came into your life. Finally, when you find yourself healing, maybe falling too, Jungkook had to show up! Again!

Theme: Angst, pining, heartbreak, break-up, smut

Warnings: Mentions of school bullying, multiple pov changes, drinking, makeout

Word count: 4.4k+

Taglist requests are closed.

Minors and karens are not allowed in this blog

A/N: Finally!! They are kisssssinnngggg!!!

Main Masterlist

Chapters:-

Prologue/Masterpost || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 - Finale

Jungkook should have headed home.

He knows he should have received Jiwon’s calls and replied to her messages at least once to confirm that he is alive.

But he couldn’t.

He couldn't think of anything else after seeing you with another man, the man that you referred to as a special client earlier. He knows he has no right to invade your personal boundaries now, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be curious or worried about you.

What if you are wasting your life away trying to move on from him, what if your client (that didn’t look like only a client) is a pervert?

He should be there for you. you are, afterall, much more than just his ex-girlfriend to him.

That’s exactly what brought him to your (once shared) apartment. Even though the decision is induced by two bottles of soju and three cigarettes in a row, he doesn't regret.

Jungkook rehearses his lines again and again. He drew a mindmap of what conversations to initiate with you once he charges straight up to your door. But even before he could head near the entryway - he sees you getting out of the same car that picked you up from Jimin’s.

And it’s the same man that had touched you in a way he doesn’t approve of.

He lights another cigarette as he watches the scene upfolds one after another in front of him. That man says something, you reply to him, he takes a step towards you, you take a step back, he leans down and you don’t stop him.

Jungkook’s blood starts boiling. He throws the cigarette away and surges forward to stop whatever is going on but the car window slides down and if he is not wrong then it’s a kid who talks to the man standing with you.

Are you flirting with a married guy now? Are you that desperate to move on? To forget him?

Before he can understand anything, he sees you bidding them goodbye and walking away. The car leaves a little later.

Your face still feels hot.

For a moment you believe that all of it is a dream. There is no way Hoseok said it’s impossible to fall out of love with you. There is no way he admitted that he could do anything to make you his. There is no freaking way he was seconds away from kissing you!

All of it is happening too fast. It’s been roughly four weeks since you met him. And it’s been a month and half since Jungkook broke up with you.

Aren’t you moving on too fast? Are you really attracted to Hoseok or is he just a suitable rebound to you?

These questions plague your mind. You grip your hair out of frustration.

Hoseok can never be a rebound. That won’t be justified to him or to the kindness he has been treating you with.

But the way you felt nervous and breathless around him a few minutes ago, the way his dark eyes managed to make you want him shamelessly - not all of it was because you desperately want to move on from your ex-boyfriend, is it?

The doorbell rings loudly in your empty apartment and you realize you are still sitting on the couch and you haven’t even changed.

The clock says it’s 7:40 pm and you frown at that. You wouldn’t have visitors on a Saturday during this hour. So it might be your grocery that you placed an order for just this morning.

Getting up from the couch, you take slow steps towards the door and the bell rings once again. The delivery guy must be in a hurry, so you scream a little “coming” as you take the doorknob in your hands and open the door.

And your head starts spinning all at once.

“What are you doing here?” You ask the man standing at your door. The same man who broke your heart six weeks ago. The words come out with less surprise and more anger.

“I- uh- I need to pack rest of my stuff…” he pauses, visibly struggling with his words, “can I come in?”

You sigh, a long one, as you open the door wider for him to come in.

Today is indeed a bad day. You wanted to avoid him once and you ended up coming across twice.

Shutting the door loudly enough, you look at Jungkook. He looks restless. He is still wearing the same clothes you saw him in earlier, so he might not have headed home since then. The strong smell of soju and cigarettes highents your suspicion.

He looks back at you, with big, doe, glossy eyes. Once you felt unbelievably weak for them but now you feel numb. The moisture in those dark orbs does nothing to worry or unsettle you.

You wait for him to say something or to head inside your (once shared) bedroom and pack up whatever stuff he had left behind. But he does nothing. He stands there staring at you as you do the same.

You sigh again, “as far as my knowledge goes, you have nothing left to pack. But you can check again, or whatever you please.”

You divert your eyes from him and walk towards the kitchen to pour him a glass of water.

“I know that. I know there’s nothing left.” he finally speaks up, making your head turn towards him through the open space of the kitchen.

You feel anger growing inside you with every passing moment. If he knew then why the fuck did he come? What brings him here at your apartment on a saturday night right when you feel way too much troubled with your feelings and emotions?

But you control it. You are trained to control your emotions during these kinds of situations. So you take in a deep breath and open your mouth to speak again.

“Then may I ask what brings you here, Jungkook? That too in the state of intoxication? If this is about the apartment itself then let me remind you that the lease is in my name and I have already wired you the share you had paid up until the breakup.”

He walks towards you. Standing on the other side of the kitchen counter he says, “I just wanted to see you, Y/N.”

A sarcastic chuckle bubbles in your throat at that.

“We don't really share a relation to see each other frequently, don’t you think so? Besides, you just saw me this afternoon.”

This time Jungkook laughs. Just like yours, his laugh, too, is punctuated with sarcasm. But you don’t know how he can be sarcastic. He is the one who left you, he is the one who has a girlfriend waiting at home for him while he is here at his ex-girlfriend’s house and he is the one who should be guilty, not you.

Suddenly you feel a strong urge to throw the glass full of water on his face. But you calm yourself down again.

“Well, you didn’t even look at me properly. You were so eager to entertain your special client that you basically ran out of Jimin’s place.”

The insides of your mouth taste sour at how Jungkook emphasized the words special client.

“I don’t get it.” your head feels heavy, squeezing your eyes shut tight you continue, “I don’t get why are you here at this hour, having an unnecessary argument about my life?”

“I am not arguing with you.” Jungkook frowns as he manages to protest.

“Okay.” you resign. You know stretching the matter any further will only complicate things and you don’t want that to happen. You don’t want him inside your home or within your 10 meter radius ever again.

Feeling Jungkook’s constant stare on you, you stand straight and try to put an end to whatever is happening right now, “Jungkook, you are drunk. Let me book a cab-”

“Who is he?” your ex-boyfriend cuts you off.

“Who are you talking about?” you can sense jealousy and possessiveness in his voice. And this is something you never liked even when you were together. So, seeing him jealous now because of whatever reason, when he is the one who left you, makes you even more furious.

“That guy you almost kissed a few minutes ago?” the words leave through his gritted teeth, triggering something venomous inside you.

“Does your pretty little actress girlfriend know that you have been following your ex-girlfriend and keeping records of the guys I meet?” you actually grip the glass now, ready to throw the water on Jungkook’s face if he says another word out of line.

“You didn’t answer me, Y/N. Who was he?” Jungkook stands his ground, stubborn to show his non-existent rights on you.

“That’s. None. Of. Your. Business.” The words come out low but coated with anger. You fail to recognize yourself.

Jungkook comes closer to the kitchen counter and lodges himself between the stools. Only the thin kitchen island is separating the two of you.

Two months ago, you yearned to have him at this proximity at least. Ironically enough, now you hate it.

“It is. It is my business if you are flirting with a married guy just to move on from me! I should.. I should step in.”

And that’s it. That was the last nail in the coffin.

You pour the water on his head without waiting for a second more.

He closes his eyes with a visible tick in his jaw as the cold water runs down from his hair down to his face, gradually wetting his clothes.

“Come out of your dream, Jeon Jungkook. The world doesn’t revolve around you. My life, my choices, my decisions - nothing, you impact nothing! You aren’t worth my thoughts or my tears anymore. Do you get that?” you spat at his face.

Jungkook stands still. The change in your level-headed demeanor took him by surprise, it seems. However, his gaze softens, jaw relaxes soon. Maybe it’s the cold water or maybe his conscience decided to make a comeback now.

Running a hand through his now dripping hair, Jungkook tries to establish his point again, “Y/N, I am sorry. I am just worried about you. That guy has a kid-”

“I will give you two minutes to leave, Jungkook. If you fail to do so I am going to call your manager.” You garb a kitchen towel and throw it on his face, “or worse… the paparazzi.” with that you leave him hanging awkwardly at the dining space making a beeline for your bedroom for some solace.

“Jungkook! Where have you been? Have you checked your phone? I have been texting and calling you? Are you alright? Did anything happen? Why are you soaked? Jungkook? Fucking answer me!”

Jungkook’s head pounds more and more with every single word that comes out of Jiwon’s mouth.

He is still processing whatever happened tonight. But the alcohol level in his blood makes it almost impossible to form a coherent chain of thoughts. Jiwon, too, keeps throwing questions at him, pushing him towards the edge of losing his cool.

Somehow managing to get out of his heavy boots, he trudges towards the couch and flops down, completely ignoring his girlfriend’s questions and presence.

“Jungkook, please tell me. Did something bad happen? Where were you all day?” She sits at the end of the couch, by his leg, her voice is slightly less hyper than it was a minute ago.

“At Jimin’s” Jungkook whispers briefly as he covers his face with one of his forearm. He needs to rest. He needs to provide his mind and heart with a break after everything those went through today. But as soon as he closes his eyes, your face is what he sees.

He has never seen you as angry as today. In those three years he spent with you, there were fallouts and arguments but never once you were as furious as you were today. You used to be either silent or passive aggressive before, but today you attacked him directly. There was fire in your eyes and venom in your voice. You even poured cold water on him.

He knows he was unreasonable today. He knows he pushed all of your buttons. But what he doesn’t know is why he is hurting.

He fell out of love with you. He, now, loves someone else.

Then why on earth the prospect of you dating another man hurts him this much. Why couldn't he stop himself from acting unreasonable today? Why did he show up at your place and make a scene when it shouldn’t be his business to interrogate who you are dating.

Jiwon shakes his body and he realizes that his sleeves are now wet with his tears.

Fuck! Why am I crying? Jungkook thinks as he tries to sit up.

“You weren’t with Jimin. He said you left after lunch. And it’s 9 pm now.” sniffing carefully, Jiwon adds, “and you are drunk.”

“Yeah. I went for a drink later on.” Jungkook sighs.

“Okay. But how did you get wet?” Jiwon throws her next question.

“Can you please shut it, Jiwon?” the shout comes out of his throat involuntarily, so much so that it even takes himself by surprise. But he does nothing to conceal his bubbling annoyance, not even when he sees Jiwon’s eyes growing glossy.

“I am sorry. I was just worr-”

“I am sorry, too, Jiwon! I am sorry for not responding to your calls and messages and for shouting at you now but-” he sighs, feeling defeated, “but can you please leave me alone? I need to rest.”

“Yeah, alright.” Jiwon gets up from her seat and walks towards the bedroom.

Jungkook can feel her stopping in the middle of her tracks, turning towards him.

“But if it’s about her, then… you need to fix yourself as soon as possible.”

Jungkook doesn’t answer that.

Sunday and Monday go in a blur.

You somehow feel way better after kicking Jungkook out of your apartment. A little, angelic part of you regrets being rude to him, especially for pouring cold water on his head.

You could have handled the situation better, like the adult you are. On top of that, you are a psychologist. You should have acted more wisely.

But the bigger part of you is satisfied.

You accepted everything when he said he fell for someone else. You did let him go knowing that there is no point of holding someone on when their heart isn’t with you anymore.

But you couldn’t accept his unreasonable possessiveness or the way he shamelessly showed up at your place and especially the way he talked about you and Hoseok.

So in conclusion, Jungkook deserved it.

And you feel good about it.

After a while everything seems to be falling in place. You are starting to heal, you are getting attracted to someone very appealing, you had only two clients left, one of which just had her last counseling with you today.

Another one is Sua, and you have a very good feeling about her too.

Tonight you decided to treat yourself a little. Lightening a lavender scented candle and choosing an over-expensive sheet mask to pamper your face, you lie down on your bed.

For once you decide to think about absolutely nothing. You want to let your mind float and see where it lands.

Your eyes close. The wet, cold sensation from the sheet mask feels too good on your face and you try to focus on that only.

But bam!

As soon as you let your thoughts flutter, those decide you paint a particular face with heart shaped smile, dark, warm and mysterious eyes, and a lithe body that you want on yours-

And your phone rings.

An annoyed groan leaves your lips!

“Why the fuck did I leave it on ring?” grabbing the phone from the night stand you scream at yourself.

But your annoyance dies as soon as you see the intruder's name on the screen.

It’s Hoseok.

You gulp, smoothing your voice that went hoarse with the scream, and then you pick it up tapping the speaker icon.

“Hey, Y/N” his smooth voice fills your ear. A smile creeps to your lips without your knowledge, “Is this the right time to talk to you? I didn’t disturb you, did I?”

His unsure voice cut through the little bit of hurt that you have been feeling after experiencing radio since from his side after whatever happened on Saturday.

“No, you didn’t. Tell me what’s up? Is Sua alright?” You try to keep your voice professional. And professionally he shouldn’t call you past business hours if it’s not an emergency.

“Yeah, she’s fine. She’s better actually. We went grocery shopping yesterday and she was a lot more talkative. Thanks for everything.”

“Eh. I’m not going to discount you even if you keep thanking me.”

He laughs at that, making you feel lightheaded with the sound.

“I have a favor to ask, actually.” hoseok says, as the laugh dies down.

“Yeah. Tell me.”

“Sua’s homeroom teacher has called for a PTA on wednesday and I have decided to let her know everything. But I don’t think I will be able to handle the situation wisely since I can’t keep my anger in check when it comes to her. So….”

“So?”

“So, could you please join me? Since you are her doctor you will be able to do it better.”

You stay silent. The idea of joining Hoseok to his daughter’s PTA meeting feels too intimate. Even though you know you are going just as her doctor.

“It’s totally alright if you don’t want to. I know this might not be under your responsibilities and I am sor-”

“I will join you. You can text me the time and address, right?”

“Yeah sure. Sure, I can.”

You can feel his smile on the other side of the line.

It doesn’t take you a minute to spot Hoseok and his luxurious sleek car. And you feel your breath caught in your throat yet again.

How can a man be so attractive? He is handsome indeed but the aura of authority that he exudes knocks you off your socks each and every time you see him.

When your eyes meet, he is still on the phone. For a moment you wonder, if it’s the woman Mina or not.

“Hi… Thanks for coming.” Hoseok voices, cutting the call. His dark eyes bore into yours. You can see his Adam's apple bobbing as he quickly checks you out from head to toe.

Fuck! Did you overdress yourself?

“Again, hoseok, I get paid for doing this.” you add a little playfully making him chuckle.

This time, you check him out.

He has chosen to wear a black turtleneck today, tucked inside tight black slacks, along with a black blazer.

Miraculously enough, you have chosen to wear a black wrap dress. And you two look nothing short of a grim reaper couple today.

You chuckle to yourself at the thought.

“Do I? Do I look funny?” Hoseok asks in surprise.

You wave your hands desperately to dismiss his thoughts, “No no. It's just that we look like a grim reaper couple today. Dressed in all black.”

“Oh” hoseok laughs lightly, “but a couple regardless.”

You lose both of your mind and heart at his statement.

The meeting went smoother than you expected it to.

Obviously, the homeroom teacher couldn’t find her voice when you handed her Sua’s counseling reports.

Even though she once tried to defend herself when Hoseok told her that she should have focused on Sua better, that she should have monitored her behavior and informed him if she was being quieter than usual. But she acknowledged her carelessness when you pointed out all the behavioral changes that were easy for a teacher to spot.

She decided to talk to Jaemin and her parents personally and let you and Hoseok know of the outcome. And she also promised to take special care of Sua and transfer Jaemin to a different section to keep him away.

“Do you think that kid and his parents will understand his mistakes?” Hoseok asks as you two walk through the corridor.

“They should but that depends a lot on what kind of people they are. Since Jaemin is as old as Sua, it’s impossible for him to develop the concept of an illegitimate child by himself. He must have heard that somewhere, most likely from his mother. Even though it’s just my assumption, if that’s the case then his parents need to be schooled as well.”

“Then we will need to meet them personally.”

“Yes, if that kid refuses to leave Sua alone, we will have to meet them personally. And I will try my best to make them reflect on their mistakes, don’t worry.” you add briskly, stepping out of the school building. “I’ll take my leave now, bye.”

“No wait.” Hoseok holds your forearm, even though you haven’t moved an inch or tried to walk away from him.

The foreground is full of parents but it seems like no one is paying you any attention, so you try to relax yourself at his touch.

Hoseok eases too and lets his hand fall by his side, “do you have any plans for this evening?”

“No. I don’t.” Your heart starts beating loudly. Is he going to ask you out or something?

“It’s almost 3:30 now and I assume you have had your lunch already. So, why don’t you have dinner with me and Sua? I am gonna pick her up from noona’s place on our way home.” Hoseok proposes.

You think it through for a while. Dinner? At his place? Will you be alive by the end of the day?

“I don’t think-”

“Please, Y/N? Please?” Hoseok pleads, stepping towards you.

“Okay then.” you let your resistance fall limp on the feet of your emotions.

Hoseok is not a good cook but he knows how not to mess simple things up. So he sticks to the basics - Kimchi fried rice and samgyeopsal, accompanied by all the banchan his mom and sister send him every week.

He knows he needs to focus on the vegetables while chopping those but he can’t keep his eyes from wandering towards you.

You look so bold and beautiful today. The black wrap dress is perfectly professional yet too sexy. He wants to undo that tie and let the dress fall on your feet to discover whatever wonders you are hiding underneath.

You giggle with Sua. Both of you are coloring something while you engage her in a casual conversation.

Hoseok’s heart warms at the scene.

This is what he always wanted. A small family, a mother-figure for sua and a partner for himself. But he knows he doesn’t deserve you. Why would you want a single father like him when you could have bachelors lining for you.

But then again, you didn’t stop him when he was about to kiss you that day. You accepted his invitation even though Namjoon mentioned you to be strictly professional. And now you are at his house, sitting in his dining room, playing with her daughter as he cooks for the three of you in the kitchen.

Is he being too greedy?

“You have got a beautiful balcony here.” You mutter staring at the sight ahead.

“Really? Thank you.” Hoseok comes to stand beside you, handing you the glass of wine.

“Yeah. your house, too, is very clean and organized, which is very rare for single parents, especially single fathers. It tells of the fact that you are, as a person, very sorted out.” You complete before taking a sip from your glass.

Hoseok’s eyes are fixed on your side profile. He doesn’t say anything, just keeps staring at how gorgeous you are.

Then you turn your face towards him, giving him a lazy smile, you say “What? Am I wrong?”

“No. Not at all. About cleanliness though, Sua helps a lot. Even though she is only seven, she knows how to keep things at their places. She’s truly much more mature than the kids of her age.” he smiles at the thought of her daughter.

You smile too, remembering how she fell asleep keeping her head on your lap earlier.

“Sua is very tired today.” you whisper.

“Yeah she is. She never slept before having her dessert. She is definitely very tired today.” Hoseok nods in agreement.

“Do you know why she is tired?”

“Why?”

“Because she played around after a long time. She told me that she became friends with her hoobaes and taught them how to play red light, green light.”

“What? Really?”

“Yeah. She is getting better, Hoseok.” you finally turn towards the man fully and find him way too close to keep a respectable distance between two bodies.

Hoseok, though, is loving the proximity. He wants to have you close, right now… forever.

“And a lot of credit for that… goes to you. You are such an exceptionally great dad.” You smile up at him. Your heart is wilding inside your rib cage and you want to know if Hoseok is feeling the same.

“What about me as a man in general?” Hoseok whispers, starting to lean down. You are irresistible and he doesn’t know how to control himself anymore.

“That’s not under my diagnosis. I need to find that out personally. But my work ethic won’t allow me.” you let the words out of your mouth. But your body completely deceives you as you close whatever distance your bodies had left in between.

The moment your body touches his, your eyes meet his pair, which are now hazy with lust, Hoseok loses it.

“Fuck ethics” you hear him curse before his mouth crashes yours. His free hand winds around your waist, pulling you closer. You kiss him back instantly.

Two pairs of lips mold perfectly against each other.

Hoseok kisses you relentlessly, as if he has been hungry for your lips for a long time now. His hand holds you tightly to keep you in your place.

Your free hand grabs him by his neck, kissing him with just as much urgency.

He sucks your lower lip as you do the same with his upper one. Soon his tongue finds its way inside your mouth, testing every corner.

You moan in his mouth when you feel his hands diving down to your ass and giving it a pleasant squeeze.

“Stay the night?” Hoseok whispers parting for a bit, as a string of saliva connects both of your lips.

Taglist 1:-

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Taglist 2:-

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spiceofvy · 10 months ago

Note

hello friend!

i just read your skz posts for nearly an hour straight — you’re a very talented writer! i love your characterizations of them and the scenarios you come up with for requests are all unique, i love that!

if you’re up for it, would you consider writing a soft/fluffy skz with reader who craves some attention but for some reason won’t just verbally ask for it? (maybe had a long and hard day, or is a little too shy to ask for affection straight up, or is sleepy, etc.)? especially seungmin — i see a lot of rough or aggressive seungmin but lately i just so crave a sweet and fluffy seungmin.

no worries if you’re not interested — i still really enjoy all your writing! 🌸🌼

SKZ - Reader is too shy to ask for affection

a/n: aww thank you for your super sweet words! the ask is also super adorable! while writing i also realized that i was also in need for some seungmin fluff, so i made sure to write his part extra long! i hope you enjoy!

cws: gender neutral reader, sfw, fluff

Chan: He just constantly misses you. Even when he just saw you, or made the choice to leave himself. So he is really aware of how you feel when you are around each other. And with that discovered that your habit of visiting him in the studio was not only to spend time with you but also you subtly showing him that you need some attention from him. So he just opens his arms for you and pulls you onto his lap. No words needed.

Minho: When he realizes your need for some attention he is initially unsure what to do. Do you just need a hug, or maybe some cuddles? Would a few kisses make it better or is the solution a home cooked four course meal? In the end he makes the smartest decision possible and just hugs you really tightly, softly asking what you want to do. Being all ears for what you need and then doing exactly that.

Changbin: A very cuddly person himself, so when he cuddles you it's always one of his own needs too. Especially after a long day he just wants to feel you close. Prefers the bed over the couch so if one of you falls asleep while cuddling you don't have to get up again. On the very few days he does not initiate a cuddling session himself, he does take the hints for your needs for attention very well. A pull at his hand, a look towards the bedroom and a moment later you are cuddled up against him.

Hyunjin: I stay true to my "Hyunjin can read your body language like a book" agenda. Because this is also very true in this scenario. You don't need to tell him that you are in need of his affection because he can tell just from your eyes. And he doesn't care how busy he is in theory because he always has time for you. Even better if he can share it with his other passion, art. He loves to have you on his lap as he paints, sometimes using his clean hand to caress your back.

Han: I imagine this situation to be really rare when dating Han as he is at least just as needy as you are. Most of the time he just takes the affection he needs, throwing himself on you when you are lying on the couch, cuddling you tightly. So when he can't do that it's probably because he has to rehearse a lot for a comeback or while he is on tour. But as soon as you just sit next to him and stare him down he gets the message and throws himself at you in his usual manner.

Felix: Feels your need for his attention under his skin. He is a giver when it comes to any kind of affection. So whenever he just gets the feeling that you could need some love he gives it to you en masse. He pulls you onto the couch and curls up next to you, nuzzling your neck and holding you so tight all your worries are gone. Holding your hands even after he lets you go and smiles at you until you fall asleep.

Seungmin: The thing with Seungmin is that he himself is quite shy about physical touch and unsure about how much you want from him. So he just sits next to you, extending his arm out, softly caressing your cheek with his fingertips, and when you lean into his touch he opens his arms for you, pulling you into a warm hug. Laying you on top of him, cuddling with you on the couch. After some time he starts softly talking to you about his day, and in return listens to you talk about your own, softly massaging your scalp. Letting you stay there after you fall asleep, even when he is tired himself, and his legs feel numb. Because your comfort means just so much more to him than his own.

Jeongin: Also tends to be on the shy side when it comes to physical affection. But he easily picks up on the little things, your eyes lingering on his hands, maybe you pulling over one of his sweatshirts to feel closer to him. So he just straight up asks if you want to spend some time cuddling on the couch. You don't need to say much, a quick nod is enough for him to pull you close and spend the whole night watching movies with you.

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anonymousewrites · 2 months ago

Text

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 2) Chapter Eight

Saiki Kusuo x Reader

Chapter Eight: Raft

Summary: Saiki and (Y/N) work on getting everyone off the island, but that is never the end of their troubles.

Day three of being shipwrecked led to the return of Saiko and his ego. Kuboyasu and Kaidou had, overnight, gotten him to eat and help the group. “Helping,” unfortunately, meant ordering them around.

“Now work, peons,” said Saiko. “We’re going to finish this today. Chin peon and god of peons, stop cutting wood, start building. And you—”

“You help too!” said Kuboyasu.

“I’m supervising,” said Saiko. “I keep things moving along efficiently.”

“And get the fruits of our efforts like capitalists,” said (Y/N), humming and binding the wood together.

“You just want it is!” agreed Kuboyasu.

“You want me to help? Then get on your knees and beg for my help,” said Saiko.

“We don’t need your help!” decided Kuboyasu. He didn’t beg.

“It’s going so much faster ever since Saiko showed up,” admitted Yumehara.

“Because the other guys are angry,” laughed (Y/N).

“At least he came back to…help,” said Teruhashi.

Together, they continued with the raft, making slow and steady progress until they were winded and needed at least a quick break.

“By the way, who will ride on the raft?” said Saiko.

Instantly, Saiko and (Y/N)’s plan to teleport everyone out on the sea shattered.

“What? All of us will,” said Kuboyasu.

“Why does everyone need to go?” said Saiko.

“We all need to be saved?” said (Y/N).

“Are you saying you want to leave someone behind?” Nendou was furious, and Kaidou grabbed him.

“Calm down, Nendou!” said Kaidou.

Nendou threw Kaidou off him, and (Y/N) watched him spin through the air and hit the sand.

“Impressive throw,” they remarked.

Nendou grabbed Saiko’s collar. “You’ve got to be kidding me! How could you even say that? We all worked hard together to get this far.”

“That’s now what I mean.” Saiko pushed Nendou back. “The people on the raft can send help back once they’re rescued. And what if help reaches the island first while we’re all on the raft? Leaving a group in both places ensures our odds.”

“I get it! You’re smart.” Nendou accepted the explanation in a moment.

“You’re right,” said Kuboyasu. “We don’t need everyone to go.”

“I wonder why we thought we all had to go,” said Yumehara.

Uh-oh. (Y/N) and Saiki looked at each other.

“Oh, well. Let’s get some lunch and decide later!” said Kaidou. Everyone agreed easily.

Uh-oh.

“Now, let’s talk about who will ride on the raft,” said Kaidou once they’d all eaten. “So, is there anyone who wants to go?”

There was silence, which wasn’t surprising because it was safer on the island. No one was going to volunteer to go into danger.

“Me! I want to go on the raft!” said Nendou.

Or, at least, no one intelligent.

“Then you’re definitely on, Nendou,” said Kaidou.

“Yes!” cheered Nendou.

“Well, us men should probably go,” said Kuboyasu, brave as ever. “I don’t mind going.”

“How about all the guys go to be fair? And the girls and (L/N) can stay safe on the island,” suggested Kaidou.

I want (Y/N) to be with me, thought Saiki. He could keep them safe that way.

“Not, it’s too many people on the raft,” said Saiko. “Weight will be an issue. You only need four people on the raft. So I’ll stay.”

“You just want to stay with the girls and (L/N)!” shouted Kuboyasu accusatorily.

“That way, my lineage is protected if you don’t make it back,” said Saiko. “If anyone’s DNA should survive, it should be mine.”

“Ew,” said (Y/N).

“No.”

“You’re going with us,” said Kuboyasu decisively.

“Then what? We don’t need five people on the raft, and the girls won’t be safe,” said Saiko.

“I’m here to look out for them,” said (Y/N).

“What if there’s a threat?” said Saiko.

(Y/N) smiled. “I’ll handle it.”

“But—”

“I’ll handle it.”

Saiki remembered the time (Y/N) hit a rude boy at the beach. He had no doubt that they could handle it.

“I’d rather be on the raft,” said Mera.

“Why?” said Kaidou.

“I’ve caused all of you so much trouble here, so I want to give back in some way,” said Mera.

“Oh. Okay.” Everyone winced at the memory. No one could disagree.

“Then there will be more people on the raft,” said Kaidou.

“Maybe you could stay behind, Kaidou?” suggested Yumehara.

“Why me?” said Kaidou.

Yumehara blushed and panicked. “Why, well—Um, you know, you’re weak like a girl, and you get seasick!”

Wow, that was bad, thought (Y/N).

Kaidou wiped his eyes of tears as his pride was broken. “I’m getting on the raft.”

“Why?” said Kuboyasu.

“Shut up, idiot, I’ll go,” said Kaidou.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you,” said Yumehara. “I just really—Oh, fine, I’ll get on, too!”

“Perfect. (L/N), you go too, and that will be great,” said Saiko. It would just be him and Teruhashi.

“We don’t think so!” said everyone else.

“This is going nowhere, so I’ll decide.” Kuboyasu took charge. “Nendou and Mera make the raft. You, too, Saiko. Shun gets seasick like Mera says, so you’ll stay on the island. And then the rest will stay on the island. There, done. Four on the raft, five on the island. Any complaints?”

None came, and as soon as Saiko opened his mouth, Kuboyasu ignored him and turned to the raft. “Okay, back to work.”

Yare yare. I have to do something. He needed to get everyone on the raft so he could teleport them.

Night had fallen on the island, and the raft was complete. They had successfully made one (how good was it? They weren’t thinking about that).

“It’s done!” cheered Kaidou.

“We finished the raft!” said Nendou.

Yumehara cried for joy. “It’s finally done.”

“Alright, now let’s see if it floats,” said Kuboyasu.

“Of course it floats, look how cool it is!” said Kaidou. “You know, at first, I thought the raft was a stupid idea. But I’m glad we built it. We were divided at first when we came to this island. I was really worried. But now, we worked together to build a raft, and I’m not worried anymore. I know it’s weird to say, but I’m glad we came to this island.”

(Y/N) smiled at Kaidou’s words. He was really a sweet guy.

“We learned Aren is a good leader. Nendou is the same as ever, but that’s pretty amazing considering our situation,” said Kaidou. “(L/N) is really good at keeping people focused and their spirits up.” He smiled. “In fact, I’m certain now that we’re all going to make it.”

Nice speech, but that’s a sure sign you’re about to die, thought Saiki. He didn’t voice that thought.

“You’re right, runt!” said Nendou. “I feel like we’re all gonna make it, too.” He laughed. “Why are you trying to sound cool, runt?”

“I hope you die,” said Kaidou.

“Hey!”

Kuboyasu chuckled. “Let’s just eat now. I’m hungry.”

“Me, too!” said Mera.

They cheered and grabbed their food.

“Kusuo?” whispered (Y/N). “What are we going to do?”

“I’m going to handle it,” said Saiki. He nodded to the people around the fire. “Enjoy yourself. I promise I’ll get you out of here.”

(Y/N) smiled softly at him. They really were lucky to have Saiki as their boyfriend.

“Everyone have their food?” said Kuboyasu.

“Yes,” said Nendou.

“Let’s go then,” said Kuboyasu.

“We’ll see each other again,” said Kaidou, giving the raft group a thumbs-up.

“Of course,” said Kuboyasu. He smiled at the group. He frowned. “Were you always this dirty, Saiki?”

Poor Saiki—up all night fixing everyone else’s problems—was covered in dirt.

“What would you expect after four days here?” said Saiki evasively.

“Now, let’s see if this raft can hold up to four people,” said Kuboyasu. He stepped on. “Nice! It’s holding up well.”

Everyone’s eyes widened. He had stepped onto a rescue dinghy that had appeared out of nowhere.

“We found eight castaways!” said the official in the dinghy.

“That matches our report,” said his radio. “Rescue them all.”

“What?” said Kuboyasu, confused. Everyone stared with confused joy.

“Do you remember your name?” said another rescuer.

“Who the hell are you?! What is this?!” said Kuboyasu.

“We’ve rescued them,” confirmed the official. “Nobody is injured, but they’re confused.”

“We’re saved?” said Yumehara in shock.

“It looks like it,” said Kaidou.

“Oh, good,” sighed Teruhashi. Her light was flickering.

“Thank you, Kusuo,” whispered (Y/N). They had no idea how he’d done it, but he’d saved them all. “Let’s get coffee jelly when we get back.” They smiled.

Saiki smiled slightly at them. “I like that idea.”

(Y/N) and Saiki let out twin sighs as they took bites of their coffee jellies. Finally, safe and sound at home—and they were left in peace.

“Sleeping in my own bed was amazing last night,” said (Y/N), humming.

“Yes,” agreed Saiki.

“Kusuo, you teleported back to your room every night,” said (Y/N), chuckling.

“Still,” said Saiki. He looked at them. “Are you alright?”

“With you there, I was never in danger,” said (Y/N), smiling. “I’ fine.”

Saiki’s eyes softened. “You trust me.”

“Of course,” said (Y/N), laughing. “You’re my boyfriend. And you’re a great guy.”

“I think everyone is troublesome,” said Saiki.

“You help people every time they need it,” said (Y/N), waving their spoon at him. “Also, I wouldn’t date someone who wasn’t good at heart.”

“You see through me. How?” said Saiki.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” said (Y/N), frowning.

“No. You’re…nice. I don’t mind,” said Saiki.

(Y/N) smiled, and their cheeks warmed. “I’m glad. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“That’s why I feel comfortable around you,” said Saiki. “But how do you read me?”

“Because you’re a normal person,” said (Y/N), smiling. “You’re just better at controlling your facial expressions.”

“That simple?” said Saiki.

“Yeah.”

(Y/N)’s trick was that they treated him like a regular person. Huh. That made Saiki’s heart beat a bit faster. All he wanted was to be normal, and his favorite person in the world thought of him as that.

Most people wanted their partner to see them as special, as amazing, as above all the rest, but Saiki just wanted to be treated as a person. And (Y/N) did.

“Thank you,” said Saiki.

“For what?” said (Y/N), tilting their head.

“Being you.”

(Y/N) raised a brow, confused about what that meant, but they felt the compliment, so they smiled. “Right back at you, Kusuo.”

“Saiki, (L/N), we heard you got stranded on a deserted island!” said several classmates, clamoring around the pair as they entered their classroom. “Were you okay? We were worried. How did you find food there? Teruhashi was there, too, right? Right? Right?”

“I thought everything was over,” sighed Saiki as he avoided the crowd with (Y/N).

“Yeah, but what did we expect?” said (Y/N), shrugging. “Nine missing kids on an island is a story. People want to hear it.” They smiled. “At least Saiko got the news to drop the story. It’s just the kids at school.” They brightened. “First good thing he’s done for us.”

Saiko is still climbing to (Y/N)’s good side. Saiki almost felt bad for him. “Who is spreading the rumors?”

“Without food, we lost hope,” said Kaidou to a crowd. They hung onto every word he spoke, and Kaidou was talented at spinning a tale. “That’s when I suggested we build a raft. And by some miracle, nine saws washed ashore.”

“Easy answer to that question,” said (Y/N), smothering a laugh.

“They say gossip lasts seventy-five days, but I can’t wait that long,” said Saiki, narrowing his eyes.

“Saiki, (L/N), were you scared? Did you paint your faces?” said a classmate.

“I don’t remember that,” said (Y/N), considering.

“He’s embellishing.” Saiki didn’t want his reputation to be affected by Kaidou.

“Whoa! Look at this!”

(Y/N) and Saiki looked into the hall where a growing murmur of discussion and exclamations could be heard. People were crowded around the bulletin board. Stepping closer, (Y/N) and Saiki looked over the crowd. Blazoned on several wide pieces of paper were articles, each headline more provocative than the last.

“The Nine Missing High School Kids were Students from our School.”

“These are the Nine Castaways.” (Accompanied by school photos)

“Saiko’s Private Boat Sunk.”

“Kokomi Teruhashi was on the Boat?”

“Nasty Saiko Family Rumors—Exclusive Interview with One of the Survivors.”

People were whispering about the newspaper articles, eager to find out if everything was true or not.

“What is this ridiculous newspaper?” said Saiki, irritated.

“Excuse me.” Saiki and (Y/N) turned to find a girl with a recorder in her hands and a boy with a camera. The girl smiled. “Aren’t you Kusuo Saiki and (Y/N) (L/N)? I’m Manako Jouten, a member of the newspaper club. Could we talk about your experience on the deserted island?”

Newspaper club? So she’s the one who wrote this ridiculous article? thought Saiki.

“No, thanks!” chirped (Y/N), turning away. Saiki followed them without another word.

“They ignored us. Take their picture now,” said Jouten to her cameraman. She smirked. “Once they know how terrifying we are, they will be dying to cooperate.”

Yare yare. Saiki went from one problem to another. But if they tried to spread some sort of nasty rumor about (Y/N), then they’d learn just how terrifying he was.

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fandomfucker · 7 months ago

Text

Beach Trip-The Judgment Day X Black!Fem!Reader

Request/Prompt: The Judgment Day with their girl on a cute little beach trip

A/N: Linked a picture of the bathing suit I had in mind, just pretend it comes with a matching headpiece.

Word Count: 2,692

Reader's POV

Time off with all four of my partners in the Judgment Day was not something that happened often.

Luckily, this week happened to be one where it was planned out that the five of us would be going down to the beach for vacation.

Before we could leave though, we all had some last-minute errands to run. Well, mainly me and Rhea.

Sitting in the passenger seat of Rhea's truck, I happily listened to the booming sounds of her metal music over the speakers as I scrolled through Pinterest.

"What kind of nails are you gonna get, babe?" I asked Rhea, looking over at her as she hummed in thought.

"I'm thinking, like, black scales with like, a purple shimmer," She answered, briefly looking at me before putting her hand on my thigh and stroking her thumb up and down as she drove.

"Ooh, that'll be cute," I replied as I went back to scrolling through Pinterest for my own new nail set. It was vacation, and we liked to look good on vacation. You look good, you feel good.

"Do you know what you're gonna do with your hair yet?" Rhea asked me. Normally, outside of work, I try to wear my natural hair as much as possible, which isn't always the easiest when it's being grabbed by my opponents to throw me around in a ring.

"I'm thinking I'll kinda match with Damian and get bohemian box braids. I think he's getting his done tomorrow, but then I can wear that cute headwrap that my bathing suit came with!" I excitedly explained. Her grip tightened on my thigh as a smile graced her features.

"That'll look so good, sweetness. I can't wait to see."

"Oh!" I exclaimed excitedly. "And then, I can get my nails to match and since I'll be wearing my bathing suit like all week, they'll match everything!" The girl math was mathing and everything was coming together perfectly.

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

A few days later, the five of us Judgment Day members all sat in Rhea's truck as we drove down to our beach house for the week. It was right on the beach which was going to be perfect.

Rhea sat in the driver's seat as not only was it her truck, but also because she would get us there faster than if anyone else was driving. Dominik sat in the passenger seat, giving Rhea directions in between picking the music for us to listen to. I liked to stare out the window while I listened to my music so I sat behind Dominik's chair, with Damian next to me and Finn on his other side.

Damian scrolled through his TikTok, occasionally showing one of us a video as his free hand rested on my thigh, while Finn read whatever book he was currently obsessed with. He read them so fast I never knew what he was reading at any given moment.

It was only about an hour-long drive so we were pulling up to the beach-house in no time. As soon as I stepped out of the car I noticed it was weirdly secluded. There weren't any other places directly around us and the tall landscape blocked any possible views.

Damian stepped out behind me, making his way to the back of the truck, and popping open the covered bed to start grabbing suitcases.

He handed me my duffle bag as Finn and Dominik joined him in unloading the truck. "How about you girls go ahead and go inside and start getting set up, okay?"

"Okay!" I shouldered my duffel bag, grabbing Rhea's hand on my way over to the stairs that would lead us up to the front door.

Once at the door, Rhea punched the code into the keypad lock, hearing a small click before she pushed the door open. Stepping inside into a tight hallway, there was a small kitchen to the right with another little hall to the left. Going into the hallway on my right there was a bedroom on the right with a queen bed, right in front was a bathroom, and next to it a washer and dryer. At the end of that hallway was another bedroom, with two separate twin-sized beds.

Going back down that side hallway to get to the main hallway that led past the kitchen, I walked into the living/dining room and called out for Rhea. "Hey, babe? Are we all gonna fit in here?"

I noticed another room off to the side and walked into it, finding another queen-sized bed with its own private bathroom. There was a sliding glass door leading to the balcony on the far wall, with a matching door in the living room.

Noticing that the door was open, I walked out onto the balcony and saw Rhea leaning over the railing as she stared out at the ocean, the small breeze blowing her bangs to the side.

"Rhea?" She turned at the sound of my voice, making me smile as I saw the relaxation already hitting her. "Are we all going to fit in here?" I repeated my question.

"Yeah, we should," She moved away from the railing and gripped my hips as we stood there. "I was thinking that we'd take the master, Dom and Damian take the other queen, and then Finn could take one of the twins. He's the only one other than us that would fit and I booked the condo, so if I want a girls-only room to cuddle you all week I'm gonna have that." She smiled at me, so proud of herself for thinking of this situation.

I threw my head back as I laughed. If she wanted to keep me all to herself all week during the night then I wasn't gonna fight her on it. "Do the boys know about this arrangement?"

She laughed again, giving me that shit-eating grin, "Not yet."

I giggled as I heard the boys walk in the front door with the luggage. "Y/N? Rhea? Where'd you guys go?" We heard Dominik shout out through the condo.

"Let's go," I whisper-giggled as I gripped Rhea's hands and tugged her back through the sliding door, the bedroom, and back into the living room where all three of our boys now stood, surrounded by luggage.

"Where should we put these?" Damian asked, gesturing around him.

Rhea wrapped her arms around my shoulders from behind and hugged me tight to her chest. "You can put me and Y/N's stuff in there," she gestured with her head to the room behind us. "And your guys' stuff between the two rooms down the other hall." She smiled at them, albeit a bit passive-aggressively.

"Wait, we're in different rooms?" Dominik asked us, his upset puppy-dog eyes appearing.

"Yep," Rhea popped the 'P', her accent unusually strong.

"I want this one all to myself, "She squeezed me and kissed my cheek as my ears burned.

"Come on, seriously, Rhea?" Damian asked her, his voice seemingly deeper in his annoyance.

I could feel her nod my head against my ear.

Finn rolled his eyes, used to Rhea's antics at this point in the relationship. "Whatever, lads. We'll just have to have boys nights every night."

"Yeah!" Dominik agreed, sticking his tongue out at us mockingly before he grabbed his bag and walked back down the hallway to his room.

I played along with Rhea's wants and just shrugged at the two remaining boys who looked at us in disbelief. Damian scoffed before grabbing his bag and following suit, Finn right on his heels.

"They'll figure it out, right?" I asked Rhea, looking over my shoulder slightly at her.

"Yeah, probably."

"Good. Let's go down to the beach!" I excitedly told her, fully turning around to face her.

She grinned at the prospect of me in a bathing suit, laid out in the sun, "Okay."

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

The boys, having heard we were going down to the beach, decided that while they were still upset, they weren't upset enough to not go down to the beach with us, and now stood sulking outside the bedroom door where I was finishing getting dressed, tying my matching skirt around my waist.

It was a cute little orange two-piece I had found at a boutique near our house. The top was really just two little triangles of fabric to cover myself but it had come with a matching tied-up skirt and headwrap. And, it was covered in flowers which just made it that much cuter.

I fixed the headwrap, making sure all of my hair was covered without any weird-looking lumps sticking out, and then checked myself over once more in the mirror to make sure I had taken all the tags off and had the suit on correctly.

Once I was satisfied with how I looked, I opened the door for a mock fashion show for my partners.

Damian wolf-whistled at me as I did a small spin to show off the flowy skirt. Finn grabbed my hand and had me do another spin, lifting my hand over my head, to the enjoyment of my partners.

"You look so good, mami," Dom practically salivated as he stared at me with heart eyes.

Rhea looked me up and down, her eyes briefly stopping on my nails before she got back up to my eyes. "You're right, sweetness. Your nails do match your bikini perfectly, good job picking out the color."

I beamed at the compliment and grabbed the edge of my skirt, lifting it slightly as I gave a small curtsey. "Why thank you, baby."

Damian came up to me, gripping my hips as he also checked me out, his eyes eventually landing on mine too, "Can I just say, with this beautiful complexion," he gently stroked his thumb down my cheek, "Orange is definitely your color." He kissed my forehead.

I blushed slightly as I smiled at him in silent thanks. "Okay, guys, let's go. I'm ready for some relaxation!"

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

"You know who I realized you look like?" Rhea asked me, completely out of the blue.

The two of us were laid out on the towels higher up on the beach while the boys threw each other around in the water, practically waterboarding each other while we watched.

I pulled my gaze from the book I was reading and turned to her, noticing her eyes were still closed underneath her sunglasses as she lay on her back, staring up at the sun.

"Who?" I asked warily, not sure I would like the comparison.

"Orange Blossom," Rhea cackled.

I stared at her in confusion before it hit me. "From Strawberry Shortcake?!"

Rhea's laugh grew as I sat there in bewilderment before a laugh began to bubble up out of my chest. And then I was bent over laughing so hard I couldn't breathe.

Rhea herself had to sit up she was laughing so hard to keep herself from choking on her own spit.

The boys, having noticed our laughing fit when they looked up for their periodic check-up on us, began making their way up the beach to where we sat.

"What's so funny over here?" Finn asked us.

"She- she said- she said I-," I was laughing so hard I couldn't get a single sentence out. Rhea managed to sober up before I did and repeated what she had told me.

All three of them were sent into fits of laughter, after having to be shown who she was first.

"Don't get me wrong, you look amazing in orange. But, with the flowers I just couldn't not see it," Rhea cackled.

I wiped away the tears of laughter that had formed in the corners of my eyes. "No, I totally get it. I don't know how I didn't see it before, oh my God."

"You know what? Just for that..." I trailed off and put my book to the side, hopping up and using all the strength in my body to pick Rhea up bridal style.

Her eyes widened as she startled but I had already fully picked her up and started running towards the water.

"No, no, no, no, no! Y/N! Don't you dare!" She shrieked as we reached the water. I waded out to where the water reached the bottom of my thighs, about a foot below Rhea.

She wrapped her arms around my neck and clung onto me as she kicked her feet. "Oh, you want me to put you down?" I asked sweetly.

Rhea's eyes widened behind her sunglasses, "No-" She was interrupted as Damian came up behind the both of us and pushed up over, both of us toppling over into the water.

We both stood up spluttering as we watched him double over laughing at us, Dom and Finn on the cusp of the shore watching us.

Rhea and I shared a look before teaming up and each grabbing one of Damian's arms, dragging him further out into the water, him completely compliant as he laughed too hard to care what we were doing.

With unspoken communication, simultaneously, I jumped on Damian's back, sending him forward while Rhea yanked on his arms, further pulling him forward into the water.

Since we still weren't super far out into the water yet and I was on top of Damian, while I did hit the water, I luckily didn't go all the way under. Plus, Rhea caught me a little bit before I could.

Damian stood up from the water, the laughter now nowhere in sight as his annoyance was displayed clear as day on his face.

Small bursts of laughter exploded from me and Rhea as we tried to contain them, but the look on his face as water dripped down was too much. Any semblance of control went right out the window when Dom and Finn came up behind Damian and pushed him over into the water again.

Rhea and I clung onto each other for dear life as we laughed so hard we couldn't breathe, the boys keeping our laughter going by giving us a little show of performing wrestling moves on each other as they continued to fight and push each other into the water.

Eventually, this led to us playing chicken, another few feet or so deeper into the ocean. I was on Finn's shoulders with Dominik on Damians while Rhea played ref on the side.

"Go for his stomach, remember he's ticklish," Finn whispered up at me.

"Got it," I responded, determined to win as I leaned down and we did our little handshake.

Rhea looked at both groups. "Ready?" She asked Finn and me, to which we both nodded in response. She turned to Dom and Damian. "Ready?" They both nodded.

"On your mark, get set, go!" She shouted, waving her hand like a flag.

Finna and Damian began walking towards each other as Dominik and I both held out our hands for each other. As soon as he was within reach, I began tickling his ribs, watching as he began to squirm atop of Damian, who was struggling to hold him up as he moved.

As a unit, Finn and I moved in for the kill. I pushed Dom backwards as Finn pushed Damian. They both fell back into the water with a large splash.

Dominik immediately came up out of the water shouting for Rhea, saying that we were cheating. I gave the three of them my most innocent look possible as Rhea looked over at us while we were accused of interference.

"Nothing there was against the rules, Dom Dom. Y/N and Finn won fair and square." She announced.

Dominik was clearly affronted as a look of hurt crossed his features. "Okay, fine." He threw his hands up in surrender. Then, in the blink of an eye, he grabbed Rhea's arm and dunked her into the water.

And let me tell you, Rhea was not happy when she came back up. The two of them got into a splashing match and continuously dragged each other under the water until Damian inevitably broke it up.

Finn bent down and helped me off of his shoulders, trying to not get my head any wetter than it already was, and the five of us walked back to shore together.

Apart from a day or two spent out shopping, the rest of the week was spent like this. Fighting each other in the water, sunbathing, Rhea and me cuddling long into the night while the boys grumbled and complained and cuddled each other in spite.

It was blissful, and the best week of my life.

#the judgement day #the judgment day #tjd x reader #the judgement day x reader #the judgment day wwe #the judgment day x reader #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley #damian priest x reader #damian priest #dominik mysterio #dominik mysterio x reader #finn balor x reader #finn balor #wwe #wwe raw #poly!judgement day #black fem reader #wwe x reader

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theaawalker · 1 year ago

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A Run For Your Money [Eric x Reader]

Pairing: Eric x gender-neutral!reader Song Inspo: One Dance by Drake ft. Justin Bieber Word Count: 2,004 Summary: A new Dauntless initiate, y/n, captures Eric's attention. As trouble follows you, Eric is always nearby with a keen smirk. But you won't go down without a fight, promising to give the brutal faction AND instructor a run for their money. Warnings: violence, fighting, mentions of death Masterlist: see fandoms (pc-friendly)

Bam! Bam-bam, bam!

You are by yourself in the initiate training room beating on a punching bag. Today is one the rare days off that initiates get, and you chose to spend your time training. You made up your mind to transfer to this faction, so you did't intend to ease up on your pursuit until you make the cut. It seems that a group of female initiates were attracted by the punching sounds and have come to investigate. After seeing you, one of them attempts to show you how it's done.

Jace is bigger than her friends; one would assume that she was Dauntless born had the classes not been separated. She picks you up and throws you to the side, ready to set an example. You come back, jump and hock a leg around her neck, flipping her on her back to the ground. You land in a crouch, "Come on dude, don't be an asshole."

It's obvious that she nor her friends expected you to take her down. They thought that you would be intimidated like most of the other initiates, but Jace didn't hold her surprise for long.

"Well, that was unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome." She pushes off the floor and hops to her feet. You rise up with her as they meet for a handshake.

"Jace, Candor."

"Y/N." You turn away from her to go drink from your water bottle. Jace watches you for a moment.

"Which faction are you from, Y/N?" She asks. You blink and drink from your bottle before setting it back down.

"That's not important." You say. Jace isn't satisfied with your answer and is about to ask you another question.

"I couldn't agree more." The girls stiffen and jerk around to face Eric, posted up like a soldier with a sadistic glare in his eyes. "Do any of you want to explain to me why you're not downstairs?" His voice is menacing and full of authority. Jace and her friends look at each other confused. One of them tries to respond, but she's a stuttering mess.

"Bu-but w-w-we uh, I thought um.. I mean, we uh-."

Eric, having heard enough, cuts her off, "Got it. I'll give you a chance to make it down there, and you'd better make it before I get back down there." The girls scramble past him and rush down the stairs. You hadn't moved, choosing to remain silent until they had gone.

"Isn't today our day off?" You look at Eric expectantly. You aren't surprised when he starts grinning at you.

"Correct." He's walking towards you while shrugging off his jacket.

"Then why did you scare them away?" He smirks at the question and sets his jacket down near your water bottle.

"I'll be your sparring partner for today." You blink slowly.

"Alright."

2 hours later, you and Eric are both sweaty on the mats, breathing heavily as you stretch together.

"Thanks for the workout." Eric was impressed with you, and he's looking forward to welcoming you into Dauntless.

"No problem, I really enjoyed it. Thank you." You didn't expect the offer, but you appreciated it. Eric isn't known to associate with initiates outside of making sure Four is training them properly. So, while surprised that he wanted to spar, you weren't going to say no.

He nodded his head at you, grabbed his jacket and walked away. You watched him leave, strutting out of the training room with such confidence. He didn't even look like someone who'd been in a fight. You honestly feel inspired. One day, you're going to really give him a run for his money.

[ time skip - visitng day ]

When visiting day rolls around, Eric doesn't see his source of amusement. He wanders into the training room to see you finishing a set of pull ups. He stands in the entry way watching you come down to stretch. You bend down to the front, holds it, and then bend back into a back-bend.

You see him but don't say anything. You don't know how long he's been standing there watching, but since he didn't say anything neither will you. You take a few minutes to quickly stretch your body before picking up your water bottle and walking away. You almost makes it past him, but he stretches out an arm to stop you.

"Not so fast." You aren't looking at him, but he's looking at you. "Why aren't you down there with everyone else?"

"There's no one down there for me." You walk around him, and he lets you go. He sees that you're upset, but it isn't his place to comment on it.

[ time skip - next day ]

Early the next morning, Eric comes across you doing laps around the training room. You pause at seeing him there.

"You want to run?" You nod, your chest heaving with your breathing. "Come with me." You look around, unsure if you should follow him.

"I have training in an hour." He smirks at you.

"I'll make sure you're back in time." You nod again and follow him.

They run to a cliff spot with a full view of the sunrise. You hadn't watched the sunrise since being in Dauntless; you missed it. You wonder if this could be a regular thing for you again.

"Ready to head back?" You nod. "Can I come here every morning?" He regards you for a moment before replying.

"If you remember the way."

They jog back together and make it just in time for Four's class. You head over to join the other initiates lined up. Eric walks past them, ignoring Four completely as he heads to take a shower.

The next morning, you're running back to the Dauntless compound, coming back from your sunrise viewing. You're definitely going to make it part of your routine to run there in the mornings. Halfway back to the compound, you see Eric running toward you. You pass each other, making eye contact but not exchanging words or stopping.

[ time skip ]

Despite their rocky start, you and Jace form a competitive friendship. You're often seen sparring with one another, or with Jace's friends. With individual training, you two are always trying to out-do the other. Friendly competition became a great way for the both of you to become and maintain high ranks among the initiates.

Lately, Four has the group randomly paired every day for mock fights in the ring. Somehow, you always get paired with one of Jace's friends. You haven't lost a fight yet thanks to all the practice you had with Jace. The friend, Byron, was the biggest initiate of the class, so taking down anyone else was easier for you. Bruised, blustered, and bloodied, you managed to beat him. Even Four was impressed, with Eric nodding and smirking like he predicted your victory. Byron seemed pissed as he limped back to his spot. The fact of Jace teasing him didn't make it any better. Perhaps that was the catalyst that led to this unfortunate event.

[ time skip - that night ]

You were already in bed while everyone else was at dinner. You're an early riser which also means you're an early sleeper. That particular day had tired you out more than usual, so you slept heavy enough for someone to pick you up, cradle-style, and carry you away.

The culprits? Three men disguised in all black and ski masks who tried to dump you over the chasm.

One of the Dauntless members on the cameras sees them. He's in the camera room watching them almost drop you over until you wake up suddenly. Kicking and punching, you swing around on the railing to kick one of your attackers in the head. He hits the back wall and falls unconscious. One of them somehow is shoved over chasm railing, while you punch the other one in the throat and head until they fall. You snatch off the masks of the remaining two, and your face crumbles. Hurt and betrayed to see two of Jace's friends. You recognize Byron, and knee on the other one's dick. He tries to cover himself, but you kick his head, hammering down on it with both feet. As a floored Byron and his accomplices groan, you spit on him as a final assault before you stagger up and stalk off.

Four and Eric coincidentally show up in the camera room while this fight was taking place. Four notices that particular camera feed as he glances around the room when he first walks in. He immediately zeroed in on it, coming closer as he sees the victim, who he recognized as you, wake up and fight off their assailants. Four flips out, snapping at the guy sitting in front of him for not reporting this.

Eric, at seeing Four agitated, walks over behind him to see you in action. He finds it humorous, not caring at all about the sorry excuse for an initiate that fell over. Lucky him that he died before Eric could get to him. Those other two would pay dearly for what they just attempted, then maybe after he's done with them will he allow them to die.

Four tries to go to the chasm, but Eric tells him to take care of the guy in front of him first. "It's over now; I'll take care of them."

Eric tells the swarming Dauntless members to get those two initiates in a holding room until he gets there. Eric left the room in search of you, but he couldn't find you. Unbeknownst to him, he passed your hiding spot -- a hallway vent -- several times, but you didn't want to reach out to him. You saw a mix of other Dauntless members and initiates milling around, and you didn't trust them. So, instead, you tucked yourself deeper into your hiding hole and slept.

[ time skip - the next morning ]

You return to your bunk after you've calmed down. Jace tries to approach you, but you flinch away from her. Who's to say she didn't orchestrate the attack? Shortly after, Four, with Eric right on his heels, sped into the room. He's relieved to find you there, and he asks if you could come with them.

You're called to a meeting with the Dauntless leaders, the parents of the dead boy, and for some reason, Jeanine Matthews. The child's mother accused you of killing her son.

"Your son tried to kill me." His mother vehemently denied it, until she's shown the video feed. Then, she flips her argument.

"But you're not dead, now are you?" You, done with the conversation already, looks over at her.

"Let me guess, you'd rather I be dead."

"Yes!"

"Tough." You turn your head, dismissing her.

Eric is full-on grinning as the mother is short circuiting. Jeanine, ever observant of Eric and his mannerisms, notices Eric's interest in you. Thus, Jeanine also takes an interest in you. Reviewing in her mind the initiate's combat skills, she shifts her eyes over to you, who is busy staring out of the window. You could be another Eric, a great soldier to carry out her plans.

After much debate, mainly from the parents' end, you are dismissed. Due to the video evidence of the boy being involved with trying to kill you, and that he was actually bumped over by one of the boys, you are exempt from any punishment.

After the meeting, Jeanine pulls Eric to the side. He instead takes her to his office to hear what she has to say. She asks Eric what he thinks of you, to which Eric responds with a mediocre answer. He doesn't want you involved in this, but it seems his tactic isn't working. Jeanine doesn't buy it after seeing the video, and she gives Eric instructions to introduce you to the plans and get you working under him. After, she excuses herself and leaves him alone to his thoughts.

After lunch, Four escorts you to Eric's office. Four warns him not to be mean to you, and Eric tells him to get the fuck out of his office. During your meeting with Eric, he tells you the rundown of what's going to happen after you've passed your initiation. He doesn't go into too much detail, in case you have too much of an adverse reaction.

After he's done explaining, you're blunt with him, "That's stupid." Eric looks at you, but you keep your eyes on his computer and continues, "It doesn't make sense. She wants to kill people to keep the peace. And these serums, it sounds like some mind control scheme."

You look at Eric. He sees that you're smart enough to pick up on what he didn't say.

"You don't believe her, right?" You ask him. "You know that she wants to make everyone, except a select few, into mindless slaves that do whatever she wants while she rules over everything. You know that she wants a dictatorship and not peace, right?"

You pause for a moment to hone in on his unfazed expression. "Or maybe you do know, but you don't care." You look at him for a few more moments before leaning up and looking away, taking a stroll around his office.

He contemplates life while you busy yourself with looking around his office. How didn't he think about what life would be like with everyone under her new serum? He thought that he'd be done with Jeanine, and he could do whatever he wanted with Dauntless. He didn't care about the other factions. He really doesn't care about the people, but there's not much enjoyment in bossing around mindless slaves who are programmed to do what they're told anyway. How weird it would be to walk down the halls and pass people that aren't really there. Yes, there'd be no more people to piss him off, but there'd be no idiot to amuse him either. No one to hold a conversation with; no one to ignore for being stupid; and no one to threaten and watch them cower.

At that moment, he realizes that he would be bored and alone with not a soul for company other than Jeanine and her lackeys. He grimaces at the thought and sees how unpleasant it would be. He feels ignorant for not seeing the whole picture and not thinking ahead. He's going to rectify that.

[ time skip ]

It took Eric a few weeks to get together his evidence of Jeanine's crimes and organize a trial in Candor. It was unavoidable for some of his skeletons to be exposed, but fortunately, they were overlooked in light of him turning Jeanine in. She was found guilt and set to be executed, which was done by Eric himself immediately after the sentencing.

You passed your initiation ranked #1, with Jace pulling up #2. It took you a while to feel comfortable around her again, but ultimately, it wasn't her who hurt you. Thus, it wasn't fair for you to shut her out. Plus, she physically defended you whenever one of the guys got too aggressive with you, which was a nice plus.

You were also set to start your job working under Eric. The paperwork had already been approved by the time Jeanine's plans were foiled. Also, Eric had taken to courting you. Speaking to you more and spending time with you. He wouldn't date you until after you passed initiation, but now that you had, you and Eric have been together for about 3 weeks now. He was currently taking you to meet his parents for dinner.

Five minutes in, and you were not having a good time. Still, at least there was free food. Eric's mother, Blythe, addressing you, asks yet another insulting question. "So, how long have you been sleeping with my son?"

"Blythe!" Eric and his father shout her name, but you ignore her.

"Not going to answer?"

"No, I don't see how that's any of your business."

Taken aback, Blythe seethes before responding. "My son is my business."

"Yea, you're such a great parent, so supportive of your son's choices." You hear her gasp as you sip your water, not giving her the attention.

"How dare you-"

"That's enough," Eric hisses at her. He's pleased that you're not intimidated by his mother, but he doesn't like her being insulted.

"Are you going to eat that?" Eric asks you, eyeing your plate. You cut the steak and broccoli on his plate and fork it before turning to offer it to him. You have your other hand underneath in case anything falls from the fork. He eyes you again and you blink at him expectantly. He leans in, his eyes boring into yours as he eats off your fork. You turn back to spear more food onto the fork before turning to repeat your actions.

"I can eat my own food." He says while leaning in.

"Then why didn't you?"

As the night goes on, you two pay no mind to his parents. Even though Eric's father seems to genuinely support him, you don't see any sort of relationship blossoming with him or his wife. Yet, judging by Eric's reaction to Blythe, you won't have to worry about pleasing her. Sweet.

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xoxochb · 3 months ago

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— you caught my heart, lovergirl!

warnings: tooth rotting fluff see a dentist, I also just learned how to play the entirety of baseball in like 20 minutes so if I got something wrong I’m sorry 😭 and the ending is lowkey sucky as fuck because I wasn’t sure what to do for it LMAO pairing: baseball player! jason grace x fem! reader a/n: you can’t stop me from learning how to play a game just for a fic. this is literally the second time I’ve done this and be prepare for more

the cheering crowds, the smell of popcorn (and dirt but you chose to ignore that for aesthetics purposes), and your blond boyfriend flashing you his knee-weakening, winning smile. you can’t help but return it, offering a blown kiss in addition (which makes his knees weak). your heart begins to pound as the last moments of the game start up, the last inning, the last chance to win and with jason’s team practically already in the win you weren’t nervous nervous but you were freaking out. you watch as the pitcher prepares to throw, slowly turning the ball in his hands

very. slowly. or maybe you were just overreacting or maybe you were dying or maybe—

annabeth’s hand on your shoulder snaps you from your thoughts. “(name), I can practically feel your worries, please calm down”

you shake your hands to get rid of the sweat build up. you take annabeth’s hand in yours. “I’m trying!”

after what feels like forever— the pitcher throws at last. your breathing grows abnormal as you watch in what you’re sure is slow motion, the ball travels from the pitcher to the bat jason holds. one…two…three…four…you close your eyes and say a silent prayer to tyche, when you open, as if your prayers had been answered on exactly the second they were sent, he hits the ball, sending it flying through the stadium. you don’t celebrate just yet, he still has to make his rounds over the bases

first… second… third… you nearly have a heart attack when he reaches home plate. at the absolute top of your lungs (you were bound to wake up with no voice) you scream in joy, wrapping yourself into the arms of the gray eyed girl beside you. when you pull away she wipes the falling tears from your cheeks

“now go!” she demands, making your brows furrow “go get your man! what’re you waiting for?”

“yes, yes yes, going!” you squeal and run down the stand’s stairs, through the gate and onto the field. your legs burning like wildfires (you’ve never participated in this much physical activity in your life, your muscles would feel the wrath tomorrow for sure), you’re feet were sure to begin blistering any moment (pro tip: don’t wear doc martens to a baseball game even if they look cute with the outfit!), but you couldn’t find it in you to care as jason wraps his arms around your middle tightly. and you surely couldn’t care any less that he was drenched in sweat and covered in dirt or the gods know what else

you feel as his tears soak through your shirt (his jersey you were wearing had fallen off your shoulder). your breathing steadies as you feel his comforting warmth surround you. the hug lasts for what feels like hours, days, weeks, months, years even, before you pull away, not going far because you’re swift to connect your lips with his (this was motivation enough for him to win. throughout the game the remembrance of you kissing him passionately after his team won kept him going. additionally the reward he would earn later that night if he was being honest), once, and twice before you pull away fully this time. jason pulls an arm away from around your waist to show you a very dirty ball in his hand. the winning ball

“I believe this belongs to you. my good luck charm of a girlfriend”

like waterworks, you can’t help the tears that come alongside the gesture. you take the ball from his grasp and return your arms around around his neck, at last your heart settles and your breathing slows to normal, peace restored at last

#xoxochb #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo fandom #percy jackson #pjo #percy series #pjo hoo toa #jason grace imagines #jason grace x y/n #jason grace x you #jason grace #jason grace x reader #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you

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ghost-proofbaby · 2 years ago

Text

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR ELEVEN

in which a line is crossed, and a lie is told.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, smut, upside down does not exist, fingering, oral (m receiving, allusions to f receiving), p in v (be like eddie and r! use protection!), use of mean nicknames (slut), ass slapping, hair pulling, minors dni

→ wc: 7.5k+

→ a/n: the smut has arrived! shout out to @abibliophobiaa and @myosotisa my loves for helping me, but also horny hours in general haha. the pep talks were very much needed and very appreciated.

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

11:00 ──────ㅇ─────────── 24:00

SIX MONTHS EARLIER

A drink. What you need is a drink.

The moment Robin and Steve brought up the small get together, you’d agreed instinctually. It had been a long month, hard and full of life throwing unexpected punches your way, and the only way you could think to soothe it was with terrible mixed drinks in your friend’s kitchen.

First, it had been the tire on your bike popping. Which in itself wasn’t a catastrophe, but you realized very quickly that going out and about around campus was nearly impossible on foot. You’d shown up to most classes late, not adjusting for the fact you were far slower when walking across campus than you were riding. And then it was your classes; the teachers were already upset as it was in your smaller classes regarding your perpetual tardiness, but to top it all off, every assignment seemed to not be enough. No matter what you submitted, what changes you made to essays sent back to you, it was becoming more impossible to maintain a resemblance of a respectable GPA. You’d nearly flunked a test in your humanities class, when you’d asked for a professor to go back a slide for notes they’d glared and refused the reasonable request. When you’d not understood a question on your literature homework and sent an email plenty of days in advance, the teacher only got back to you once the due date had passed.

And the dates. The terrible, terrible dates of the month.

There was the first guy, who had been kind enough. A simple meeting over coffee and by the time the lattes were cold, you knew there’d be no second date. That was fine. You could live with that.

The second guy had more potential. A first date in a bar was almost a red flag, but after a fun game of pool, you’d agreed to meet again. The second date was at a restaurant that you learned he’d taken his ex-girlfriend to; actually, you’d learned a bit too much about his ex-girlfriend that night. She was the only thing he could talk about, and when you’d later explained that over text for being your reason against a third date, he’d called you every crude name in the book.

And the final guy. A guy you’d really liked, that you’d been messaging back and forth since a month before. He was a busy guy, a bartender and full time student, and you understood – you really did. But he was charismatic and lured you in over the phone, and you hadn’t been so giddy for a date in a while. It felt like there were sparks, like he might be the one.

He didn’t show up. Last night, you’d sat like a fool at the restaurant you two agreed upon for two hours before realizing he wasn’t showing. Sipped your way through two ciders, even picked on an appetizer of fries, telling yourself he’d show up. He was just busy. He’d show up.

He never showed up. He didn’t even text you. The waiter had waived your bill for the night, but his look of pity only made your stomach twist worse.

Pathetic. You felt pathetic.

“We’re all getting together at my place tonight,” Steve had whispered to you during class that morning as you two were packing up things as the lecture ended, “Everyone’s just going to hang out, drink, let loose. You should come.”

And so you came, overly optimistic about the entire idea. You didn’t even think to ask if Eddie was going to be here – even he couldn’t dampen your excitement at a break after the month you’d had, even with his recent mean streak.

Mean. You’d never thought after that first night you’d be able to describe him that way. Cold, sure. Callous, perhaps. Indifferent, of course. But mean? Mean didn’t seem like something others saw Eddie as genuinely capable of. Steve always ranted about how good of a guy he was, Robin would tell fun stories of nights out with him and how much of a good time he was, Nancy considered the guy her best friend. You knew your new friends, and you didn’t take them as being the type to befriend someone so unkind.

But you didn’t see the good guy, the fun guy, the best friend. Whenever Eddie Munson was around you, his guard was up and his words were sharp. They cut through your unbridled disappointment with ease, reminding you that you were not his friend. You weren’t even sure if you were an acquaintance.

And sure, you took it too far at the diner. You could admit that, even before Robin scolded you. But to see him sitting with someone not from your friend group, to see him being so kind and endearing to someone new, had burned you with fury like no other. If he could treat some blonde he’d surely matched with on a dating app so sweetly, why couldn’t he afford you the same warmth? Someone he saw nearly weekly?

So you went for blood. Except, you were the only one wounded in the end, after the silent treatment you’d had to endure as you watched Eddie clench his jaw and pretend you didn’t exist.

“What are you drinking tonight?” Steve smiles when you enter his kitchen, brows still furrowed in careful thought over your miserable month, “I’m guessing something strong?”

“The strongest thing you’ve got, Harrington,” you reply, trying to shake back into excitement. It was going to be fun. You were going to drink with friends, partake in silly conversations no one would remember come morning, and you were going to have fun.

Steve holds up a bottle of vodka, a name brand you don’t care to acknowledge, along with a 2-liter of Coke, “Think this’ll work?”

You nod, and he pours. When he hands you the crystal cup reeking of overpoured alcohol, you take a sip and nod.

Oh, yeah. Two of these and I won’t even remember Mr. Stood-Me-Up.

“I heard about your date,” Steve means well, but the reminder is the exact opposite of what you want. You’re quick to glare at Robin, who throws her hands up in defense.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you quip, taking a larger second sip. If you weren’t trying to pace yourself, you’d probably chug the entire thing, “Not much to talk about, anyways. Got some free food and alcohol out of it, at least.”

“That’s good! I bet you dodged a bullet.”

I probably didn’t. “We can only hope.”

Steve pours himself a drink as well as Robin, and you can hear Nancy and Jonathan already chattering in the living room. No sign of Eddie so far. Maybe he wasn’t coming, and you’d finally caught a break.

“To forgetting the names of men who suck,” Steve chides as he raises his glass, and Robin mirrors him. You hesitate for a moment, a fraction of a second.

You were starting to believe it wasn’t them, it was you. You were the common denominator of all the terrible dates. Did sparks not fly with the Coffee Boy because you dampened the fuse? Was two-date-chump only talking to you about his exes because you didn’t provide anything interesting enough to take his mind off them? Surely, it had to be your fault that you were stood up the night before. Surely.

You pull from your pity party, and nimbly raise your glass. The rim hardly brushes that of your friends’ cups, but you all throw back your poisons of choice regardless. They don’t seem to notice the way you’ve begun to float within your head, the way you’re crashing through violent waves of pathetic self-hatred.

It was you. You’re the problem, and you’re the only one who can solve it. Eventually.

Robin is dramatically gagging on what you think might be redbull and vodka as Steve silently grimaces at his straight whiskey, clearing his throat before he says, “Okay, I know you don’t want to talk about last night, but Robin mentioned you’ve had a few dates this last month. Anything worth sharing? Any luck?”

There’s a snappy remark of clearly not on the tip of your tongue when the doorbell rings down the hall, and the three of you all turn your heads as Nancy calls out that she’s got it.

—

HOUR ELEVEN - 2:00 AM

Once Eddie starts kissing you, he can’t stop.

It isn’t soft, nor caring – the moment his hands meet the flesh of your hips, it’s bruising. He doesn’t even break for air as he fumbles with the knob blindly, giving a final twist of his keys before the door swings open behind you and the two of you stumble backwards into the sanctuary of his apartment. It’s all teeth, it’s all desperation, it’s the accumulation of a year of snide remarks and low-blow insults all coming to head as he kicks the door shut behind you and spins so that your back meets the wood.

Your hands are tangled in the curls at the nape of his neck and– oh God, when did you reach up and grab at his hair in the first place?

He groans at the force of your fist, and it suddenly doesn’t matter. You don’t care how they got there – you only care to keep them there.

He finally breaks the kiss, spit trailing between your lips as you both gasp out breaths, “You-” he dives back in, capturing your lips between his in a harsh and quick action before another break, “fucking-” another break, another gasp. He remains close enough that each harsh exhale flows right into your mouth, down your throat and into your lungs, “infuriate-” this time, he pauses, not moving back in for another kiss as his forehead is pressed hard against yours, eyes wide open and boring into yours, “me.”

The venom that laces the words don’t scare you. It’s all verbal aposematism, rehearsed and practiced hatred that bears no weight, not anymore. Not as his hips are digging into yours and another tug of his hair has him putty in your hands.

You know the dance well. You know the next step.

“Good.”

His next kiss is even more vicious, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip and making you whine into him, one hand finally unraveling from his curls to find purchase in fisting the leather of his jacket. There’s a fine line that neither of you are daring to cross, only toeing as teeth and tongues clash.

This time, when he pulls away, you’re the one chasing after him. You don’t care about breathing; you care about his lips on yours, sucking all the smoke and oxygen from your lungs.

He’s the one to finally cross the line. A hand comes up to your throat, not nearly as rough as it should be, as he keeps you in place with the back of your head pressed to his front door. A pleading mewl leaves your lips of its own accord.

“Oh, sweetheart, don’t be so desperate.”

The line’s been crossed, the chords all snapping between you two. There are no invisible strings tying you to the man before you, the man that has you aching between your trembling thighs and erratic breaths. Only gravity.

“Me? Desperate?” your voice nearly fails you as you lean into his touch surrounding your throat, preening forward so that your lips brush his, “I’m not the one fucking off to porn magazines that look like you, pretty boy.”

You’re both on the same side of the line now as you watch his eyes darken. It’s a sensitive topic, a bruise you’ve chosen to prod out in the hopes that he’ll break at the same alarming rate as you.

You need him to fuck you. You need him to use you, to throw any caution or revelations to the wind. You want him to push you so far you can’t remember your own name, let alone all the emotions that travel the channels between you.

“Think you can do any better than my hand, baby?” he questions as he buries his head into the crook of your shoulder, breath and lips leaving a buzz along the skin he comes in contact with. His fingers tighten ever so slightly, and your head rushes with a weightless bliss.

Your pulse is against his thumb, drumming beneath the pressure of it as you reply, “Do you think you can do any better than mine?”

A dozen insinuations layer the words, and he catches every single one. Your lashes flutter into your eyesight, lids growing heavy as he lifts his face from your shoulder and looks at you wickedly, grin spreading treacherously.

“Are you trying to tell me you touch yourself to me?” he taunts, pressing closer, “You thinkin’ of me at night when you get lonely, all desperate and pathetic, wrapped up in your own sheets? Do you wish it was my fingers, and not yours?”

Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying. “In your dreams, Munson.”

“Of course,” he chuckles, “I thought that was a given. Don’t tell me you’re so dumb you’ve figured out I get myself off to your lookalikes, but not that I dream about you, sweetheart.”

The thought of it makes your stomach flutter, your thighs clench. He’s quick to shove his knee between your legs, letting you drop so that your crotch nearly brushes his thigh. But the distance remains and no relief from friction comes, he makes sure of it as his fingers finally lift slightly, letting the blood rush back to your head and into your cheeks.

“Is that what you were thinking about in the bathroom?”

His movements finally falter. You almost have the upperhand again, you almost have him back in your palms, back down to your height in cockiness.

You take his silence in stride, a smirk gracing your own face, “Oh, you were, weren’t you?” you pause, and drop a hand to his torso, nails raking over his shirt and making him suck in a sharp breath, “You thought I wouldn’t hear? You were being so awfully loud, y’know. Surprised you didn’t say my name.”

He breathes back to life, hand unwrapping from your throat to grip your chin, his thumb just barely making contact with your bottom lip as he tugs softly, “You would have fuckin’ liked that, wouldn’t you? As if I didn’t feel you get so hot and bothered by me on the bike,” it’s your turn to freeze, realizing your fears were valid, and he laughs lowly, “Oh, yeah, baby. I felt that. Hard to miss when you were clinging to me like I was your goddamn savior. What were you thinking about, hm? I bet you were thinkin’ about just that – me moaning for you, cumming for you. I bet it drove you fucking crazy, didn’t it?”

“What were you thinking about in the bathroom?” you whisper as his thumb presses harder into your lip, “Show me yours, I’ll show you mine.”

Your hand finally drops to its destination, cupping him through his sweatpants, wrapping around his girth.

He’s big. Bigger than you had expected, and he knows you’re shocked by the way you still once more, cocking his head at you with the utmost confidence.

He’s fucking lucky to be packing. It’d be a shame to be such an asshole and not have the ability to back up all his talk.

“You want me to be honest right now?” he asks, a thread of seriousness binding his words. You don’t hesitate to nod, even with his grip on your chin, “I was thinking about your mouth. Thinking about those pretty lips wrapped around my cock. I was thinking about you on your knees and those eyes looking up at me, all teary as I fucked your mouth.”

Your grip on him tightens, and you make the daring move to suck the tip of his thumb into your mouth, making eye contact as your tongue swirls around it.

“Fuck me,” he groans, throwing his head back, his grip immediately falling slack on your face. You see the opportunity and take it, surging forward to latch your lips onto his exposed neck. You start with light kisses, pressing them in rapid succession down the vein that lays poorly hidden by the stretched skin, pausing once you get closer to where the expanse meets his jaw.

“I’m trying to,” you taunt before sucking hard.

He moans loudly, echoing off the walls of his apartment, the hand still on your waist turning into an even more impossibly tight grip. The hand that once held your face has come up to tangle in your hair, gripping you by the roots and pulling you away just as the blood vessels on the surface have burst and bloomed in full shades of red and pink.

Your scalp burns as he pulls you to be face to face with him, eyes hard as you keep your hand on his clothed dick. You can feel him twitch as your palm at him, no longer caring about being desperate. You were desperate. You wanted him to give up the game, set aside the chase, and ruin you. You wanted his neighbors to hear as you chanted his name like a prayer, as every memory of every reason as to why you resented him fled your system with each thrust of his hips that could pin you to the wall.

“Is that what you want?” he’s no longer teasing you, his tone sounding as if he were asking for permission now rather than taunting you any further, “You want me to ruin you, sweetheart?”

The chase is nearing its end, and you nearly shatter with anticipation.

With one last trick up your sleeve, one last attempt to break him, you shrug as if you aren’t flushed and terribly flustered to the point of no return, “I guess. That’s one way to pass the time.”

When he breaks, it is sudden, and it is unkind. One moment, your break is aching from being pressed against wood, and your core is throbbing as you consider dropping to his thigh to find your own relief. The next, he’s throwing you around carelessly as his mouth slots to yours once more.

Just as it doesn’t matter how your hands found their way into his hair, it doesn’t matter how he pulls you from the door and navigates you to his couch. Your mind isn’t focused on where your body ends up, it’s focused on the feeling of his lips, chapped and pressing to yours eagerly. It’s focused on the way that the weight of his hands pressed tightly to your lower back feels. It’s focused on the overwhelming spice of his cologne, the smell of the night air still clinging to his cheek, the taste of his salt water as you dive under and let yourself begin to drown.

He’s consuming you, lungs and all. Limbs and all. Mind and all.

It’s a bad decision. This is going to be both of your downfalls, and you should stop before it goes too far.

You don’t stop it. Neither does he. All he does is throw you down to sit on his couch as he falls to his knees in front of you, bringing a palm to each knee and spreading your legs as he settles between them.

He’s the prettiest you’ve seen him yet. Even prettier than the first night. His lips are swollen pink, puffy and still lingering with your spit. Your mark on him, the first of many you need to leave, right along with the bruise on his neck. You wonder how hard you’d have to bite to bring blood tonight, you wonder which other spots on his neck would make him melt against you as you explored him fervently and left a whole collection of bruises that spell out your message very clearly – he’s mine for tonight.

His chest heaves as his eyes stare up into yours, hands gripping each of your knees. Even through the cotton, your skin is burning from his touch, your wildfire still thriving as you navigate this ocean he’s thrown the two of you into. A man-made river, more like it. It was made by his hand, it was created treacherously and with purpose against you, and yet you’re still here wading in it, also by his hand.

“Tell me to stop,” he begs, unexpected as his hands squeeze you, his eyes zeroing in on his palms as they travel up to your thighs, pulling you closer and making your back slide down the cushion from the position you’re seated in, “Tell me you hate me.”

For a second, you almost tell him you can’t. You can’t tell him to stop. Not as your leg lifts and his shoulder fits perfectly into the ditch of your knee, not as his hands creep further up to the band of the borrowed sweatpants. And once his fingers curl into the waist, knuckles pressing to your soft skin, you know you won’t.

“Don’t stop,” you whisper, making his eyes shoot up to meet yours again, “I hate you, but don’t you fucking dare stop.”

Quickly, at an almost impossible rate of speed, he yanks the sweats down off of you. They’re tossed behind him into a pile on his living room floor, uncared for and quickly forgotten.

Once your skin is exposed to him, he’s planting messy kisses linearly up your shin, over your inner knee, until he reaches your thighs. Marks are left in his wake, shades of deep maroon fading lilac as he nips and sucks against them just as you had to his neck.

“Show me yours,” he mumbles into your skin, fingertips pressing indents as he openly mouths over the hickies left behind.

“What?”

“I showed you mine, now show me yours,” he insists with wild eyes, hair hardly contained by the bun that once contained the curls, “When you touch yourself, what do you think about?”

“You,” you sigh out as he presses another kiss to you, even higher up now, growing dangerously close to your cunt.

“What about me?” he pushes, staring up as he removes contact, “Use your words, baby.”

“I-” you can’t think clearly, mind muddled with smoke and the image of him there before you, on his knees, “I think about your fingers instead of mine. How thick they are, how they’d feel.”

His smile shows little satiation, “Go on.”

You’re so focused on getting the words out, you nearly don’t notice a hand loosening its grip on your thigh, inching up to your panties, playing with the lace edges.

“I think about how deep you’d go, how you’d curl your fingers just- fuck,” you cut off with a gasp when his fingers slide beneath cotton, brushing over your wet folds.

“Just fuck?” he mimics, pouting slightly, “Afraid I’ve never heard that one before. Might need you to demonstrate for me. How do I curl my fingers just fuck?”

“Fuck you,” you whine, writhing beneath his touch as your ankles lock behind his head.

“I’m trying to,” he pitches his voice to mock your own, and you regret ever saying the words to him. He clicks his tongue against his teeth, shaking his head, “God, you want me to fuck you so bad, it’s making you stupid.”

His fingers stop teasing you as he finds your entrance, circling only the tip of his pointer finger to gather the slickness. Your hips buck, the desperation clawing its way through your entire body now, leaving ash and destruction in its path before Eddie brings an arm across your waist to hold you down to the couch firmly.

“Beg for it,” he commands, voice shooting straight into your chest, “Be a good girl and say please, yeah?”

His finger still circles your entrance, teasing but never quite pressing in, leaving you a whimpering mess. You begin to wonder if there will be any sign of how hard his forearm is pinned against you.

A battle of both your prides. He can feel you burning up now, he sees the flames dancing and he’s willing to play with them rather than give in to you.

You have to bite your lip to avoid letting the please on the tip of your tongue slip out for him. You’re still fighting him, still defying him.

“I have been far nicer to you than you deserve,” he continues his taunts, a grin growing when he catches the way you’re physically holding back, “We both know it, so just say it. Say the word, and I’ll keep playing nice.”

His finger breeches your entrance slightly, and you gasp, head thrown back immediately, “When have you ever been nice?”

He tsks, removing the tip of his finger, letting it glide up between your folds before it stops just short of your clit, “Oh, I’m always nice. You just never seem to notice.”

You think about it again. All the acts of kindness that went under the radar, all the times you’d buried in an effort to continue to harbor detestation for the man before you. He’s right – he probably doesn’t realize it, but he’s far more correct than you’d give him credit for at this moment.

“Please fuck me,” you whisper to the ceiling, before swallowing hard and leaning your chin back down, looking him in his eyes as you decide to give him more than he asked for, “Please ruin me.”

You’ve watched a mirage of emotions flush across his face on every possible occasion. Anger, distaste, aggression, laughter, annoyance. But you’ve never seen want quite like this grace his features.

“Gladly.”

His fingertip circles your clit, once, twice, three times, applying the perfect amount of pressure to have you crying out before he’s removing his forearm and nearly tearing your underwear to move it to the side and thrusting two fingers into your desperate cunt immediately.

You sob out and nearly double over, the sting and stretch making you keen as he wastes no time. You’ve said the magic word, you’ve played his game, and now, he’s returning the favor.

He’s playing nice. And, God, is nice quite the word to describe what he’s doing to you as he pumps his fingers into you, thrusting them in as deep as his knuckles allow before he curls them and brushes the spot that could make you scream with the right skill set.

He has the skill set. He notes your clenching on his fingers, and he curls again, with more intent this time.

Maybe the thin walls only apply to the inside of his apartment, if you’re lucky.

“Is this what you want?” he questions, leaning in so close to you that you feel his breath wash over you, “Is this what you meant by ruining you?”

You nod, finding it becoming increasingly harder to speak as you gasp, “Y- Oh, fuck. Yes. Ple- fuck. Please.”

He pauses, and you nearly scream out in frustration and protest before he rips your underwear off of you, dragging it down your legs and forcing your ankle to unlock from behind his head as he fights with the flimsy piece of cotton. You expect him to throw it, to let it join the sweats, but instead, he brings them to his face. He’s wolfish as he looks up at you, taking a deep breath in with the cotton pressed to his nose, not saying a word but watching you clench around nothing as he finally tosses the panties over his shoulder.

You see them catch on the coffee table, nowhere near the sweats.

“Smell so sweet, baby,” he coos, bringing his fingers back to you, his tongue peeking out to lick his lips, “I might just have to tast-”

A phone ringing cuts him off. The trill cuts through the silence, piercing both your ears, making you look at each other in fright.

“Don’t answer it,” the words burst out before you think them over. You don’t care about your friends right now. You don’t care about the bet.

You care about his fingers back inside you, curling and hitting that spot you’ve spent endless nights fighting to find without success. You care about getting his clothes off of him, of your eyes tracing over his skin and the ink you’ve yet to see. You care about his cock, springing to attention, before he’s sheathing it inside of you and bringing you both to utter bliss.

A phone call is at the bottom of your priorities right now. You just don’t care.

“It’s your phone,” he counters, glancing behind the two of you to where your phone is buried in the heap of black clothing, “I’m not answering it. But…”

“I’m not answering it, either.”

“If we don’t answer-”

“Eddie, I could fucking care less,” you sit up roughly, leaning in as close as you can in the compromising position, “We’re not answering it.”

The phone continues to ring, and he looks between you and it in clear confusion, “They’ll just keep calling-”

“Let them,” you insist, “If you don’t get your dick in me within the next minute, I’ll call this entire thing off,” you add on the last part as you reach out and your legs fall off his shoulders, hands replacing where your knees once rested as you bring his lips into yours.

Teeth, tongue, salt water, ash. It drowns out the final few rings as you continue to tug on Eddie feverishly, forcing him to rise from his position on the ground and kneel on the edge of the couch, a hand balancing him upright by gripping the back of the couch. Your kiss is all the convincing he needs.

“Fuck, fine, fine, I-” he cuts off, removing himself from you long enough to shrug off his leather jacket, to reach up and grab the collar of his shirt, yanking it over his head. The bun has officially unraveled to completion, curls flowing down over his collarbones and shoulders. You can’t keep your hands off him, fingertips immediately pressing into the exposed skin, “Just give me a second.”

He stands, and you whine, making him snicker as he kicks off the grey sweatpants.

“So impatient,” he teases, and you watch his face light up in delight as you can only bite your tongue in response. There’s something more there, something to be considered later. Later, when you aren’t aching for him. Later, when the moment of desperation has passed, when his waves retreat from your shores and you find yourself capable of breathing fresh air once more.

Later is not now.

The moment he’s down to just his boxers, you’re done waiting, doing as he had for you and dropping your knees to the carpet below.

“Hey, what are you doin-” he’s interrupted by you leaning forward, looking up at him intently as you kiss the tip of his dick through his boxers. Your lips come in contact with the wet spot clearly forming, and you can see the shiver roll down his spine, “Oh, fuck. What the Hell happened to me… me getting… me getting my dick in you…” He’s trailing off, unable to focus as your fingers slip beneath the waistband and tug down, his dick slapping against his exposed stomach.

“It still counts if you fuck my mouth,” is all you say as his boxers pool at his ankles, and you don’t even wait for him to step out of them.

Your phone is ringing again. You can feel the vibrations through the floor as you wrap a hand around his base, as you lean forward and place a proper kiss to his leaking tip, swirling your tongue in the precum.

This time, the two of you don’t argue about answering it. It’s hard to as your mouth is full of him, and his is full of curses.

“Jesus Christ, I- Fuck, right there,” he’s gasping as you wrap your lips around the tip fully, just as you’d done with his thumb, sucking gently and making his hand fly down to rest on the back of your head.

You bob down a few times, hollowing your cheeks and taking him deeper and deeper until your nose presses into the coarse hairs resting at the base. You pause, letting your nose press into him as you breathe deeply, feeling him hit the back of your throat. Your eyes water, just as he described, and you take pride in the way he can’t even look at you now.

You pull back, letting him drop from your mouth, smiling widely, “Better than your hand, right?”

“Fuck off,” his hand rest at the back of your head grips the hair there, tangling up as he shoots you a glare.

“Say it’s better than your hand, and I’ll fuck you off,” you press, letting a hand travel to fondle his balls, pinching the skin delicately, watching his reaction roll through him like waves.

“I- Fucking obviously,” he hisses as you smile, leaning down and pressing kisses along the shaft, “God, of course your mouth is better than my fucking hand. Of course it fucking is.”

“It better be,” you goad before taking him back into your mouth. This time, you suck harder, and his grip on your hair is painful once more.

“Shit.”

He’s at a loss for words, devolving into guttural groans and babbling moans as you quicken your pace, determined now.

You wanted to ruin him. After a year of his bullshit, after suffering through every fight and every argument, every passive glare and every turbulent comment, you want to make them man standing over you crumble to pieces.

Except he wasn’t just crumbling, he was shattering. Splintering apart as his hips started to thrust to meet your mouth, as you choked around him and refused to let up, resorting to stuttering inhales through your nose as you pressed your face back to his pubes, swallowing accidentally and making him nearly scream.

“Shit. Shit- stop. I’m going to f-fucking cum, stop,” he’s pulling you off of him suddenly, gasping for breath, not letting you refuse and push him over the edge.

You’re smug as you lean onto your heels, wiping your mouth clean of the spit that strings from your bottom lip to his red tip with the back of your hand.

“I think I win,” you state plainly, as if you weren’t currently taking heaving breaths, desperate to catch your breath and have his hands back on you.

“Win? Wh- It’s not a fucking competition,” he scowls, raking a hand down over his face, chest flush.

“It is, and I fucking won.”

“Yeah? You think you won, baby?”He recovers quickly, you’ll give him that. He goes from a complete mess to a force to be reckoned with in an absolute instant, stepping out of his boxers and kicking them from his warpath before he reaches down to tug you to your feet, “In that case, if this is a competition, I think I deserve a second chance.”

You open your mouth to be a smart ass, to say something cruel or something mean, but he steps back before you have the chance.

The look of want has turned stormy, confident and eliciting. A hurricane beckoning to you as he snaps his fingers.

“Take your fucking shirt off, and get on the couch, all fours.”

“I-”

“Now.”

There’s no more fires, no more oceans, and no more petty arguments left in you. You listen to him.

You throw off the sweatshirt, his sweatshirt, as he goes to one of the tables beside the couch and opens a drawer roughly.

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, unhooking your bra as well, fully naked and aware that his eyes weren’t on you yet, “You just keep fucking condoms in your living room?”

“Who said I was looking for fucking condoms?”

“Oh, my bad. I just assumed. Should have known you were getting me naked just to go searching for fucking Narnia in your drawers.”

You were wrong. He was looking at you, and you’re only made aware by the sharp slap across your bare ass at the comment. It makes you spin quickly, looking at him and his set jaw.

“Couch. All fours. Now.”

“You’re such a sore loser,” you snark, taking a few steps back, trying to ignore the way the sting on your backside has your clit throbbing.

“You have no idea, baby,” he says without a hint of joking, looking back down into the drawer and continuing to dig as you turn away from him again.

Despite feeling exposed, you do as you’re told – you get onto the couch on all fours as he requested, knees digging into a surprisingly soft cushion that surely hadn’t felt that way earlier in the night when you’d attempted to sleep on the piece of furniture. You don’t dare to glance back at him over your shoulder when the drawer finally slams shut, hearing his heavy breathing as he returns to you being enough to force you to shut your eyes and take in a sharp gasp.

“Still feeling like a winner?” his voice winds around you, nearly choking you as you feel a feathering fingertip trail across your lower back.

“Always,” you lie breathily, voice betraying you as it shakes.

You feel the couch dip from behind you, legs spreading as Eddie fits himself between your calves, one hand latching onto your hip.

“God, I can’t wait to fuck the brat out of you.”

Without warning, he’s lining himself up with your entrance and pushing in, taking all the breath from your lungs as you collapse down onto your elbows and your cheek brushes the cushion of the couch.

It burns, his cock forcing you to stretch and accommodate you, filling you at an unbelievable rate.

You knew he was fucking big, but you hadn’t considered the consequences until this moment, as he truly feels as if he’s just begun his ruining of you.

“Fu-” the curse is lost in your throat, a small gasp as you press yourself down even further into the couch, mind swimming.

“Oh, no,” he tuts, sounding completely unaffected until he leans down over you as he bottoms out. When he gets closer, you catch it – the hitch in his breath, the way he pauses before he can speak, “That won’t do, sweetheart.”

He brings a hand back to your throat, just as he had when you two first entered the apartment, when the fight for dominance first began. It’s more from the pressure of his forearm across your chest, but the pressure is still applied on both sides as he guides you to straighten up your body against him, making him hit new angles that have you hissing out.

“I said on all fours, not just waving your ass in the air like some slut,” you clench around him at his words, and he chuckles breathlessly, “You like that, don’t you? You like being my fucking slut.”

You can only moan in response as he slowly pulls back his hips, feeling every inch of him beginning to retreat from you at an agonizing pace.

“You’re pitiful,” he groans into your ear, pressing his thumb further against your throat, cutting off the circulation for only a moment. Just long enough to send a rush to your head, “You say you hate me, say you can’t fucking stand me, but get cock drunk just from me putting it in. I’m only getting started and you’re speechless.”

You can only continue your pathetic whimpers, reaching back to grasp onto him before he tuts once more.

“Pathetic, baby.”

He slams back in, letting you drop forward. This time, you keep yourself up on your hands, letting out more small gasps, all of the noises getting half stuck on your tongue.

“But you’re winning, right?” he taunts, accentuating each word with a thrust as he begins to pick up his pace, “You’re the winner here, right?”

You don’t answer him, nearly drooling when he reaches forward and grabs up your hair, curling it around his wrist carefully before he pulls. It hurts, it makes you clench down on him, it has you babbling out nonsense you’re completely unaware of.

Each time he snaps his hips forward, his skin collides with yours, ricocheting off the walls around the two of you. Your arms shake, but you stay steady, refusing to collapse beneath him and the euphoria that scathes you.

He pulls your hair harder this time, making you arch your back into him, “Tell me you hate me.”

You cry out, feeling him hit even deeper as his free hand forces your hips to meet every thrust.

“Say it, baby. Tell me just how much you hate me,” he huffs out, clearly barrelling as quickly to his own release as you are, “Say you hate my guts,” another sharp thrust, and his balls slap against you, catching your clit and making your knees shake, “Say you can’t stand me. Go ahead, baby, say it.”

“I hate you,” you weakly respond, eyes tearing up as you feel your gut twist. Your fire, your blooms, his ocean. He’s making good on his promise – he’s ruining you, and you’re reveling in the wake of it all. Embers char you from the inside out, and your brain fogs over in pleasure.

“Say it like you mean it.”

“I m-mean it,” you gasp when he reaches around, chest pressing to your back, finger hovering over your clit, “Fuck, right there, please. I mean it. Please, please-”

“Say it again, like you really mean it this time, and I’ll let you cum.”

He stills, deep inside you, waiting with bated breath as his chin ghosts over the back of your shoulder. You stare straight ahead. If you glance down, you’d find your hands turned to fists, his ring still glittering on your finger.

He’s destroyed you. To unimaginable levels. You can’t comply with his request, not without becoming a liar, because it occurs to you that the man currently wrecking you is not a man you’re capable of hating. You hated the situation the two of you were in, you hated the year wasted, you hated the looming pressure of your friends awaiting a return call, you hated the words exchanged between the two of you with the intention of cutting deep. You hated many things surrounding him, but you didn’t hate him.

At Eddie’s core, he is still the man you first met. He’s finally drowned you, dragged you to the bottom of his ocean, and you can see that now. The man that first reeled you in at the bar never left, simply shrank away, hid himself away from you for some unknown reason that you hate. The man that dazzled you, enticed you, provided you with the opportunity of safety still exists.

“I hate you,” you grit out, fisting at the cover of the cushions, your entire body on edge. From him, from revelations, from a build of hate that had been misdirected for far too long.

“Good,” he gasps out, mouth falling open and against your skin, teeth grazing you, “Then this changes nothing.”

You don’t have time to ponder, or wonder why he didn’t mention the feeling being mutual. Once the words leave both of you, his finger connects with your clit, working an expert pattern that has you preening as his vigorous thrusting returns. It’s harsher than before, pain and pleasure blurring together as your scalp aches, your vines tighten, and your flames erupt.

Your vision whites out, and you don’t hear your screams of relief as much as you feel them. Your throat is hoarse, tears leak from the corners of your eyes, and the tension vanishes from your muscles.

Your arms collapse finally, and you don’t fight the way your cheek presses against rough fabric as his hips begin to stutter, his own ecstasy flooding over him before he’s crashing with you.

The two of you stay that way for a second, skin on skin, words lingering in the air, threatening to vanish. You don’t care – you match your breathing to his as he doesn’t pull out immediately.

A vibrating comes from the floor amongst the shared bliss, both of you too fucked out to move to go answer the phone. The money doesn’t matter anymore, not to you.

Everything aches. You come to realize just how rough the two of you had treated each other, pains ringing out from your throat, from your ass, from your abused cunt. Your knees are surely marked from the couch and floor alike, your scalp is screaming in relief without Eddie’s grip against it.

You don’t regret it. You don’t regret any of it, except a singular lie.

I hate you.

What a brilliant, foolish, laughable, bullshit attempt at a lie.

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#twenty four hours #my writing #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #very terrified because i feel like expectations are so high #please be kind i'm gonna have a PANIC ATTACK #i didn't read this back :) if you see mistakes don't @ me #let's hope for the best smut is between yall and god

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iliketangerines · 7 months ago

Note

Can u do a part two of bi han obsessed with kuais wife where he acts on his thoughts?

not good enough

a/n: we back to grinding out four fics a day lads. also, i do NOT condone this behavior in real life

pairing: bi han x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), noncon, slight bondage, cum marking

it was easier than he had expected, which was typical of his idiot brother, and Bi Han adjusted you over his shoulder as he made his way back to the Lin Kuei

he’s bringing you back to your rightful place, by his side at the Lin Kuei and not at that Shirai Ryu, some clan his brother was building after his betrayal

so typical of his brother to not watch you, to not guard you, Bi Han would be sure to keep you safe under his care

he locks you to the bed because he knows you still love his brother, he doesn’t understand why, but he knows that you do

and he knows you’ll fight tooth and nail to get back to him, and so he ties you down, your wrists and legs tied to the bedposts, spreading you wide

he cuts off your clothing with a shard of ice, and he wrinkles his nose at the disgusting yellow colors on you

you would look much better in blue, he knows it

you would look regal, elegant, like a god coming down from the night sky to bless mortals with your presence, and Bi Han nearly salivates at the thought of you dressed in Lin Kuei colors

he throws the clothes to the side, making a note to burn them later, and his eyes rove over your naked body, savoring the curves and the softness of your skin

it was much softer than his, hardened and scarred by training and battles, but you, you were untouched, never having entered into the training field

you weren’t one for fighting on his level, but he supposed that worked in his favor in this case, he wouldn’t have to struggle when you tried to escape

he wants to touch you, to hold you, to claim you as his after hearing so many nights between you and his brother, but he waits for you to wake up

because he wants you to remember when he claims you for himself, he wants you to remember him and how much better he is than his brother

it’s a long wait, waiting for the drugs to wear off enough, but eventually you come to, blearily blinking at the unfamiliar ceiling and pulling at the chains that hold you to the bed

Bi Han smiles as you realize the predicament you’re in, but you don’t thrash and fight as the drugs still make their way through your body

he towers over you, and you freeze, something flashing in your eyes as they widen in terror, and Bi Han crawls on the bed in between your spread legs

they try to squeeze and kick him away, but the movements are sluggish and slow, letting Bi Han easily push past them and his hips right against your pussy

he tells you that you’re home, that you’re finally with him, that he can finally show you how pathetic Kuai Liang truly is

you open your mouth defend your husband, but your tongue is still too heavy and fuzzy in your mouth as you try to speak

Bi Han doesn’t mind how the only sounds you can manage are groans, and he grinds his clothed cock into your bare pussy, rubbing the material against your clit

your breathing quickens just a miniscule amount, and your hips buck, only further grinding your clit into him

you’re so sweet and gentle like this, all tied up on his bed, Bi Han can’t stop staring at your neck, a fading hickey on the flesh

he feels a frown etch itself onto his face as he stares at the rude mark, and he leans in close to your neck to further inspect it

it’s lazy, sloppy, disgusting, and Bi Han latches his mouth over the spot, sucking his own hickey into the soft skin of your neck to replace it

he hears your strained groans and words, but he ignores your sounds to sink his teeth into your flesh, causing a choked whine to come out of you

Bi Han just smiles against your skin at the sound and continues to ravish your skin with his teeth, leaving his marks all around your skin

your neck, your collar bone, your chest

he squeezes at the fat of your chest, admiring the way it spills between his fingers, and he rubs his thumb over your nipples, feeling them harden underneath

smiling at this, Bi Han leans in and places his lips on yours, kissing you deeply and shoving his tongue into your mouth

you were so much sweeter than he thought, and it felt like bliss kissing you, your body against his and the small sounds coming from your throat

oh how he loves this, this feeling of you underneath him, this was perfect, this was how it was meant to be, you and him

he pulls away, staring at your swollen and spit-slicked lips, and he brings one of his hands down to rub at your clit while he plants a forearm by your head for balance

and, oh, you’re wet, he can feel the way your slick sticks to his fingers, and he brings it up to admire how it drips down his finger

your face is warm, and your head falls to the side to avoid the sight

Bi Han laughs at your reaction, oh you wanted this just as much as you wanted it, and he would certainly give you your pleasure

he pulls down his pants, grinding it against your pussy while his fingers dip back down to rub your clit in lazy circles

small little whimpers rise from your throat, and it’s a gorgeous sound that fills Bi Han’s ears and makes his head spin

he wants to hear more, needs to hear more, and he moves his fingers faster against your clit, grinding his hips further into yours for more friction

you’re whining, eyes closing as tears start to slip down your face, and he dips his head down to lick at your tears

they’re so sweet on his tongue, and he kisses you, swallowing the small sounds you make, and how delicious they are

you let out a loud keen, your back arching off the bed and pushing your stomach into his, and he realizes you’ve cum just on his fingers alone

he pulls away, smiling wide down at you, because he knew that you belonged with him, how he could so easily please you like this

his cock throbs in his pants, and Bi Han pants into the air, needing to feel you now, to fuck you, to mark you as his with his cum

he’ll have to wait to taste you properly, and Bi Han hurriedly undoes the belt on his pants and pulls them down, revealing his hardened cock

the tip is flush, darker than the length, and he swipes the thumb over the tip, collecting the pre-cum while slightly pumping himself

he then brings his thumb up, shoving his thumb into your mouth and pressing it against your tongue, watching your eyes go glassy at the action

by the gods, you really were perfect, made just for him

grinding into your pussy, he wets his cock with your slick just for a moment, the head catching on your clit and making you whine around Bi Han’s thumb

finally, finally he pulls back and pulls his thumb out of your mouth, a thin string of spit connecting the two, and he lines himself up and slowly pushes into you

the pained look on your face only sends blood rushing down, and Bi Han moans at the feeling of you clenching down on him and your hips bucking in an attempt to get away

he thrusts in until his hips are flush with yours, and he groans at the feeling of you fully surrounding him

you’re so warm, so wet, so soft and perfect, and he can hear your soft cries and whimpers for him to stop

but he knows you’re lying, he knows that you want this just as much as he does, because you’re his, crafted for him, perfect for him, his

his hips start their pace, starting slow but quickly moving into a brutal pace in a desperate need to cum in you, on you, whatever to show that you were his

Bi Han moans, low and guttural as he fucks into you, hand rubbing circles into your clit as fucks into you

he leans down to kiss your neck, biting you again, and the pleasure is all-consuming and overwhelming as he listens to the steady squelch of your pussy around him

you’re dripping onto the sheets, and your moans are small, your teeth digging into your bottom to lip to stop your sounds

he won’t have that

adjusting his hips, he thrusts in again and a loud moan escapes your mouth, and Bi Han smiles as he keeps his hips steady, his cock bullying your sweet spot

you’re crying, what a beautiful sight, and he watches as you cry and sob as you clench down on him and cum, back arching and eyes squeezing shut at the sensation

it’s enough to send him over the edge as well, pulling out of you and cumming on your stomach, his seed painting your skin like a canvas

he rubs your clit through your orgasm, letting you ride out your high, and he stares down at your skin, admiring the way it dripped onto you

you look so beautiful like this, so gorgeous, completely his

he kisses you on the lips, moaning into your mouth at the taste of you and his pre-cum from earlier

gods, he was going to love breaking you in

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 5 months ago

Text

Things Learned and Unlearned Ch. 15

Series Summary: Y/N has spent her life trying to outrun her mother's reputation. When she meets the rich and successful playboy, Dean Winchester, how quickly can he get her to stop running?

Pairings/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N, Sam Winchester, Jessica Winchester, Lucy Winchester (OC)

Warnings: Each chapter will have it's own warnings, but there will be smut, seduction, virgin!reader, playboy!dean, Edwardian era BS attitudes surrounding sex and women. (Technically it's set in 1900 and the Edwardian era started in 1901, but you get it.) Angst, Fluff, all the good stuff that regularly pops up in my series. 😁

Chapter Warnings: None. Just angst and fluff.

Word Count: 3,343

A/N: So, here it is - Chapter 15, and the end of this series. I've been so grateful for all the wonderful reblogs and encouraging comments this fic has received as it's gone along week by week. Your support is the reason why it's finally completed.

It began life as just a few chapters from an orphaned fic of mine over on ff.net and now it's a fully completed Dean fic that I'm very proud of. 😊 So thanks again, and I hope you enjoy the end of this story, and feel it was worth the investment of your time. ❤️

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

Four weeks later. January 1901.

Dean sat down heavily behind his mahogany desk and picked up his morning mail before immediately throwing it back down in annoyance.

It will just be invitations and invoices, Dean thought, who cares?

He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes and digging his fingers into them. He was hungover and had barely slept. He felt like he'd been hit with a brick building.

With a deep sigh, he opened the file in front of him and ran his hand over the top page. It was his copy of the deal that he’d finally signed a week ago.

Two weeks ago, George Taskett had called his secretary to arrange a meeting. When Dean showed up at the appointed time, George apologized profusely for what had happened at the theater.

“It’s taken me a little while to reach out to you because I wanted to be able to tell you that Byron Temple had been fired, and before I could do that, I needed to speak to the board about it first. But I can assure you now that he has been permanently removed from his position, and fired from our company. It seems that the board shared my concerns with his lack of moral character.”

George had told Dean that when they investigated a little bit, they’d discovered that the incident at The Manhattan hadn't been the first such incident for Temple. Dean was not surprised, and he was glad that the board of Northern Freight had been all too happy to show him the door.

So with Temple out of the picture, the deal had gone through as originally planned and all three companies were now set to make a lot of money. Winchester Shipping and Lumber was in the best shape it had ever been in.

But he still couldn't sleep at night.

As he tucked the file away, he heard a knock at the door and then Grant's voice when he opened it. Dean couldn't make out what he was saying to the visitor, but if it was anything other than, “come back another day”, Dean might have to fire him.

A minute later, however, Grant was in his doorway to announce his guest. But Dean didn't need the announcement, as he saw his baby brother's towering frame standing behind his butler.

Dean stood up with a frown, walking out from behind his desk as Grant left, and Sam entered his study. “What's wrong?” He asked without preamble.

Sam shook his head. “Nothing's wrong.”

Dean's scowl got deeper. “What do you mean ‘nothing’s wrong’? Then what are you doing here?”

Sam shrugged. “Just wanted to visit my brother.”

Dean crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against his desk and fixing Sam with a look as he took a seat on one of the leather chairs across from Dean.

“You just wanted to visit?” Dean asked, his voice incredulous. “You thought you'd take a six hour train ride to just…drop in and say hi?”

“Sure.”

“Sam.”

“I just wanted to see how you're doing. See if you're alright.” Sam said innocently.

“Why wouldn't I be?”

Sam sighed. “Cause Y/N isn't.”

Dean's heart beat double time as he scowled again at his little brother. “Sam, honest to god…” He ran a hand through his hair. “This better not be the real reason you're here.”

“It is.” Sam said calmly.

“Well, then I'm sorry you wasted your money on a train ticket, along with six hours of your life.” He held up a finger. “No, twelve, actually, cause you're gonna leave now.”

Sam just continued to stare at him, annoying him profusely. Finally his little brother had the audacity to shake his head and scold him.

“Dean, why did you let her go? I saw you with her, saw you at Christmas. I know you love her.”

“Bullshit!” Dean barked at him, angrily. “You are imagining things, Sam, and I'm not interested in dredging up this same asinine conversation I already had with your wife.”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, she told me about it. Just made us even more sure that you were completely in love with Y/N. What we couldn't figure out is why you were so furious about the very idea of loving her.”

“Dammit Sam, drop this!” Dean shouted at him as he straightened up from the desk.

Sam pointed at him. “Yeah, furious like that.” He shrugged. “But then…I think I figured it out “

"Oh, did you?" Dean asked with a death stare, feeling the panic start to rise up in him.

Sam's voice softened as he looked Dean in the eye. “You're afraid you'll end up like Dad.”

Dean clenched his jaw and refused to respond.

But eventually Sam just shook his head. “You won't though.”

Fear and panic sat thick in Dean's throat, clogging his voice as he spoke. “You don't know that.”

Sam scoffed. “Yeah, I do.”

Silence reigned for a moment before Dean shuffled back and sat down behind his desk again. His head was pounding harder than ever.

He watched Sam for a while before he shook his head. “You don't remember him the way - I mean, obviously you couldn't remember him how he was. Before. But…”

He scrubbed an exhausted hand down his face. “I remember. The way he was. I remember him laughing and smiling. The way he'd pick me up when he walked back in the door at the end of the day, ride me around on his shoulders…I remember all of it. And I remember when it was gone. He was like a completely different man. He might as well have died with her, cause he was gone and he never came back.”

Dean closed his eyes. “So, I swore to myself, I swore,” he emphasized, “that I would never do the same. I would NEVER love someone like that and then lose myself completely when they were gone.”

He shook his head again and opened his eyes to pin Sam with another glare. “I just won't do it.”

Sam sat, quietly nodding for a moment before his brow wrinkled in thought. “Hmm…” He took a deep breath and spoke as he exhaled.

“Do you love me?”

Dean stared at him for a heartbeat before a red flush began climbing up his neck as he answered in a growl. “What are you talking about?”

But Sam just waved away his brother's words. “Nevermind, I already know you do. You love me a lot.”

Dean continued to glare at his annoying little brother, not sure what to even say to that.

“And I know you love Jess and Lucy too. Also a lot.”

“What is your point Sam?” He barked at him, although he thought he'd started to figure it out.

“I know this too, though.” Sam continued without answering him, “If anything ever happened to me or…Jess, or…” He didn't seem able to finish the horrible idea, and Dean felt his stomach churn and his chest ache at the mere thought.

But Sam pushed on. “If something ever happened, you'd never abandon the ones left behind. You'd never leave us on our own.”

Dean bit his bottom lip, feeling his throat ache from his trapped feelings.

“Oh yeah?” He asked doubtfully. “And how could you possibly be sure of that?” He smiled without humor. “I am my father's son, after all.”

Sam shrugged. “That may be, but you're also just Dean, my big brother. And he's the most selfless man I've ever known.”

Dean scoffed, but Sam continued over him.

“You've never put yourself first. Not while you were raising me. Not when you went toe-to-toe with Dad for me, so I could go to law school. Not when you worked a second job outside the business, so that you could pay my whole tuition when Dad refused to pay for it with ‘company money’ as he called it.”

Dean couldn't look at Sam any longer, dipping his head to stare at the wood grain in his desk as his brother continued to heap undeserving praise on him.

“And ever since you took over the company, you've always put your employees first, you take care of them, you work twice as hard as you need to, and pay them a lot more than other companies do, to make sure they can live good, happy lives. I've seen your books, I know it's true.”

“So?” Dean cut into Sam's diatribe, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. “Even if all of this praise was true, which it isn't, none of it proves that loving and losing someone wouldn't change all of that. Dad was a good man too, until he loved a woman and lost a woman.”

Sam tightened his jaw. “Maybe he was, but he was also a selfish bastard for abandoning us, for just going off to live alone with his grief and anger. You weren't even five years old, and you'd just lost your mother!” Sam huffed angrily. “He should have cared about that too. He should have cared about you, about us...not just the wife he lost.”

Dean's instinct was to defend their father, but he didn't. He'd begun to see that Sam was right; it had been pretty selfish.

“And I'm telling you,” Sam said with conviction, “if you and Y/N were lucky enough to be blessed with children, you would NEVER abandon them for any reason. Not ever. Because you. are not. our father.”

Dean heard his little brother's words, and the freedom he found in them, surprised him. It felt like he could breathe deeply for the first time in a very long time. He felt a tear escape and he dashed it away quickly, turning his chair away from Sam and staring at the wall.

After a moment of quiet, Sam spoke solemnly. "But none of this speculating about how you'd act IF you fell in love with Y/N really matters anyway. Because the plain and simple fact is, you're already in love with her.”

The words still made Dean's stomach clench, and he turned back to Sam and shook his head. “No, I refused, I wouldn't let myself love her.”

Sam rolled his eyes and breathed out harshly. “Damn! You really are a monumental idiot.”

Dean scowled at him, unimpressed with his opinion.

“Dean, you can't stop yourself from loving someone. You can't just control something like that.”

Dean felt the old, familiar panic start to rise in his chest. If he couldn't control it...if he really did love her already…then he'd already lost, and he'd never be free of her hold on him.

I don't wanna be free.

The intrusive thought leaked into his mind and he closed his eyes, trying desperately to deny it but-

“She's leaving.”

Dean's eyes popped open to stare at Sam.

“What do you mean?” He asked quietly.

“She gave us her notice. She's leaving. Catching a train in a couple of days. That's why I came to shake some sense into you before it's too late. She's going west, says she wants to seek some adventure, but I know it's really because we're all just a constant reminder of you. She's been miserable this whole last month - trying very hard to hide it - but miserable.”

Dean felt a different kind of panic rising as he contemplated Y/N being on the other side of the country, living her life a million miles from his.

She'd get married to someone else - someone who didn't become paralyzed with fear at the thought of needing her in his life. He'd win her over, he'd make her smile, make her happy. He'd give her children; he'd be the damn compatible husband she'd always wanted, and give her the little cottage and respectable life she deserved.

The exact life he'd told her to go and live just before he made love to her and then snuck out of the room before she woke, like a coward.

He looked at his little brother, desperate now for his help. “Shit. I walked away from her Sam. I left her a goddamn note cause I was too much of a coward to say goodbye to her face. Cause I knew if I spent another minute with her, I'd be so tempted to do anything she wanted, say anything she wanted, just to get her to stay. And I couldn't risk it.”

Sam gave him a scolding look and just shook his head.

Dean's voice was slightly forlorn. “What are the chances she forgives me for that?”

Sam shrugged. “Won't know till you try, coward.”

***

Y/N clutched the handle of her leather bag tightly, gripping it over and over, wearing it smooth from sheer worry. She recognized that traveling alone, to some remote California town she'd never been to was ludicrous and dangerous. But she just couldn't take it another day; she needed to get as far away as she could.

Living with Sam and Jessica everyday, watching them in their happy, loving marriage, was simply more than she could handle. The fact that occasionally, when Sam smiled or frowned or laughed a certain way, a tiny piece of his big brother would appear on his face, well, that was just the knife in her heart that made leaving quickly a necessity.

So, here she was, on a bench on the train platform, waiting for a train to roll in and carry her away from endless reminders of Dean. But even just sitting on the bench reminded her that she'd first met him while she was sitting on a bench - on that cool day last fall, when he'd burned his way into her life, into her heart and then into her bed. Unfortunately, he'd also burrowed his way into her soul, and she knew he'd never leave.

Even now she imagined that she heard him calling her name over the screaming whistle of the steam engine that was pulling up beside her; it was the train that would take her away from everything she wanted to leave behind. Though she knew she'd never manage it completely.

Y/N frowned slightly as she looked up; she thought she heard his voice again. Was she truly going mad?

But then she saw him, running through the steam on the platform, coming towards her. She jumped up, completely confused, but somehow feeling like she needed to be on her feet.

“Dean?” She asked as he reached her. “Why are you…? What-”

Dean interrupted her. “Don't get on that train. Don't go. I have a proposition for you instead.”

Y/N felt her heart plummet. “Dean-”

“Marry me.”

Her words died in her throat and she just stared at him, her eyes bulging as she tried to work out what was going on.

“Oh,” she said almost sadly, “I've actually gone completely mad now.”

But Dean was shaking his head. “No, sweetheart, I was the crazy one. I was the one who thought I could simply wish away, or will away loving you, but I should have known it was never gonna work.”

Y/N returned to being simply speechless, eyes wide and staring once again, as Dean continued, his voice sincere and ardent.

“Sweetheart, I'm so sorry I didn't stick around to say goodbye. Hell, I'm sorry I even tried to say goodbye in the first place. I'm sorry I was too much of a coward to let myself love you, or admit to it anyway. Seems like I didn't really have much say in the matter. Apparently trying desperately to not love someone, doesn't actually stop you from loving them. Who knew?" He said with a lopsided smile and a shrug.

Still smiling, he took another step towards her and his voice was strong and sure. "But I'm mostly sorry that I didn't wrap my arms around you the very first time I saw you, and absolutely refuse to let you go.”

“That's actually kidnapping!”

Y/N whipped around to see Sam and Jessica standing behind her on the platform with Lucy between them. Jessica slapped Sam's arm for his sarcastic comment.

“Shush. He's trying.” She waved at Dean and called to him. “You're doing great, champ! Keep going!”

“Give her the ring, Uncle Dean. Ladies like rings!” Lucy shouted.

Y/N started crying and laughing in the same breath, and nearly choked. But as Dean nodded at his niece and got down on one knee, tears won out and she started crying noisily.

He gazed up at her with a soft smile and slightly glassy eyes. “I wasn't planning to do this with an audience, and I have a lot to explain to you, I know, about why I was such an idiot and how stupid I was to be afraid of loving you.”

“Quit reminding her she'll be marrying a moron!” Sam called out again, and Y/N heard Jessica smack him again. But she couldn't take her eyes off of the massive ring that sat in the velvet box Dean opened and presented to her.

It was a Tiffany's box, she noticed, and inside was a beautiful diamond ring, with a small round emerald in the very center.

“I love you so much, Y/N, and I know I don't deserve you, but please say yes anyway.”

“Yes!” She shouted, taking the box from him and then throwing her arms around his neck, letting him stand up and twirl her around, laughing with him through her tears.

Everyone on the platform clapped happily, as Dean kissed her.

Sam covered Lucy's eyes but she pushed his hand away, clapping loudly at the little fairytale that had played out for her.

As Dean pulled back, he slipped the ring onto her finger and ran his thumb over her knuckles, before raising her hand to his mouth and kissing the back of it, just like he did the very first day they'd met. It still had the power to make her stomach flutter.

“Do you like it?” He asked, touching the emerald in the center of her ring.

Remembering her prediction that emeralds would always make her cry, brought on even more of those predictable tears. She was happy beyond measure that she'd been both right and wrong about that.

“Yes, I love it.” She said as she kissed him sweetly and then gazed into his bright green eyes. “And I love you, Dean. So much.��

“Thank God. Just...just don't stop. Please?”

Y/N nodded. "Promise." She whispered.

Dean sighed against her lips before claiming them once again.

***

The St. Louis World's Fair. Spring 1904.

“Lucy Winchester! You've had more than enough of that spun sugar now, come back over here and hold your brother's hand.”

Jessica ran after her six year old with her two year old in tow, until Sam grabbed him up and settled him against his chest. With her hands now free, Jessica grabbed a protesting Lucy away from the cotton candy cart.

Y/N laughed at her former student's frustrated little face and decided to try and help her sister-in-law out. “Luce come here; your cousin needs your help.”

Jessica let go of Lucy's hand so she could run back to her aunt and uncle. Y/N and Dean walked behind them a little ways, with their one year old, Melody, toddling somewhat unsteadily between them.

Y/N let Lucy take Melody's hand. “She loves walking with you and you're so good at showing her just how a real lady walks.”

Lucy beamed proudly as she immediately slowed her pace to allow Melody to keep up, and then walked very sedately to help her little cousin learn how to be a lady.

Jessica smiled brightly over her shoulder and mouthed, thank you to Y/N who laughed lightly. Dean reached over and took her hand now that it was free, swinging it gently back and forth.

Suddenly Y/N remembered Christmas day three years ago and how she'd imagined going to the World's Fair, and walking hand in hand just like this.

There were no cherry trees beside them and the crowds were fairly thick on the pathways around the fair, which meant they were jostled around a bit more than she'd imagined in her idyllic fantasy.

But the feelings she'd imagined back then were exactly the same. Family. Love. Belonging. She stepped closer to Dean and rested her head on his shoulder, squeezing his hand tighter.

He kissed the crown of her head and then whispered to her. “Happy, sweetheart?”

She looked up at him and gave him a mischievous smile. “Happier if you'd kiss me.”

He pretended to be scandalized. “Mrs. Winchester? In public? In full view of the children?”

Y/N laughed happily, making her in laws look back at them and smile.

Dean leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. “That's all my strict moral fiber will allow for.” He said in pretentious tones.

Y/N pouted at him playfully and he dipped his head to whisper against the shell of her ear, making her shiver.

“But Mel is sleeping in her cousins’ room with the nanny tonight. So later, in the privacy of our hotel room, I plan on kissing every writhing, shaking inch of your body until you -”

“Auntie!” Y/N was yanked back to reality as Lucy called to her, excitedly. “Melody said my name!”

Trying to ignore the raging fire her husband had kindled within her, Y/N smiled down at Lucy.

“Well, I'm not surprised. She loves her big cousin.”

Lucy smiled widely before she dropped Melody's hand to run up and tell her parents her good news. Melody started to fuss over her cousin leaving, until Dean scooped her up to sit on his shoulders; then she squealed happily, thrilled to be up so high.

Y/N just watched Dean for a moment, her eyes watering slightly as she thought about how heartbroken she'd been on that Christmas day so long ago, when she'd believed this life was forever beyond her reach.

Dean looked down at her and she picked up his hand again, pressing close to him.

“I love you, you know.”

His beautiful green eyes were warm and overflowing with happiness as he bent his head slightly, holding Melody tightly so she didn't slip, and kissed Y/N senseless. Despite his earlier moral protestations, his kiss was slow and deep and it stole all the air from her lungs.

He pulled back from her and the look of love in his eyes stole her breath all over again as he answered.

"I love you too, sweetheart." He kissed her forehead and spoke softly, for her ears only. "Thanks for teaching me how."

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

@lyarr24

@lacilou

@deans-spinster-witch

@globetrotter28

@alwaystiredandconfused

@suckitands33

@jackles010378

@evznackles

@impala67rollingthroughtown

@candy-coated-misery0731

@krazykelly

@envyaurora95

@spnwoman

@deans-baby-momma

@arcannaa

@luvr4miya

@viviwatchestv

@winharry

@ladysparkles78

Dean Fics Only:

@kr804573

@roonthelittlespoon920

@slamminmine

@zepskies

@safiyas-world

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

@aylacavebear

@kazsrm67

@slut-for-evans-stan

@sexyvixen7

@nancymcl

@hobby27

Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

@waywardcheshire

@k-slla

@leigh70

@eevvvaa

@kickingitwithkirk

@notinthislife50

@foxyjwls007

@roseblue373

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@deangirl96

@stoneyggirl2

@fanfic-n-tabulous

#dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fic series #dean winchester au #dean winchester au fan fic #dean winchester au fan fic series #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fluff

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writingforstraykids · 10 months ago

Text

I owe you a kiss Pt.3

Pairing: Minchan x femReader

Word Count: 2420

Summary: Whilst Minho and you grow closer his relationship to Chan is strained, suffering from all the responsibility he has to carry for the group. You want nothing more than your boys to work things out..

Warnings/Tags: angst, fluff, emotional hurt/comfort, soft!min, mention of blood

A/N: I already know you guys will hate me, but I promise there'll be more in a week🥺🖤

PART TWO | PART FOUR

Two months later

You giggle softly as Minho pulls you into his arms and sways you through the kitchen. A sappy love song starts playing in the background. He pulls you in as close as he can, humming along to the tune, and rests his head against yours. You know, he had a long day, organizing their group's schedules and deciding what would happen now and what would wait until Chan was back. You let him take the lead and feel him relax, his breathing calming against your chest. Minho turns his head a little, planting soft kisses on your cheek, and you can feel him smile. “I love you, honey,” he whispers.

“I love you too, darling,” you whisper right back and turn to look at him. Your breath hitches at how soft and in love he looks. “I’m proud of you.”

“Hm?” he hums in confusion, still swaying softly.

“I know how hard it is to manage everything without Channie at the company. It’s not what you signed up for,” you tell him gently.

“He’s my husband, I’ve signed up for it the minute I let him love me,” he smiles tiredly.

“I know, but never alone before,” you remind him gently. “You’re doing great, darling. Chan and I are very proud of you.”

He smiles gently and brushes his nose against yours. “Thank you, baby.” His phone rings, and you can instantly see the stress flooding his face. It's a little worrying to see him dripping with the same exhaustion you only knew from Chan so far. You gently ease it from his pocket and smile, showing him the screen. “Oh,” he smirks and gives you an apologetic smile before taking the call. “Hi, Channie love,” he says, giving you a kiss and quickly going upstairs. You watch him with a soft smile, glad Chan has called at this very moment. The three of you worked out a rhythm with calling quite quickly; one day Minho, one day you, one day the two of you. This allowed you all to keep your personal relationship with Chan, as well as your marriage, intact.

“Hi, kitten,” Chan says sweetly.

Minho throws himself onto the bed with a soft grunt and stares at the ceiling. “How are you? Had a nice day?”

“Yeah, Hannah and I are about to go for a drive, she said she knows a nice place for dinner,” Chan tells him and shuffles through his old bedroom, searching for his sweater. “I'm good, actually.”

“That’s nice,” Minho smiles and turns to his side, trying to keep his eyes open. He realizes too late that he's been silent for too long.

It’s quiet for a moment before Chan speaks up again. “How are you holding up?” he asks gently. “I hope the kids are supporting you well?”

“Don’t worry,” he chuckles. “Felix is hovering, Hannie and Changbin are busier than ever, Innie and Seungmin are getting on my nerves as much as they can, and Hyunjin took over most of my work with new dances.”

“Crazy as always then,” Chan giggles, and Minho’s heart hurts at the so dearly missed sound.

“When are you coming back?” he asks quietly after a moment and bites his lower lip hard. Dumbass. “I don’t want to stress you, just wanna know.”

Chan is quiet for a while after that, and Minho closes his eyes, growing frustrated as tears well up in them. “I-I don’t know, Min,” he confesses.

“Mhm, okay,” is all he manages to say, trying not to start crying right here on the spot. He misses him so much that it’s getting a little too much lately.

“You’re mad.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” Chan huffs.

“I said I’m not,” Minho insists.

“Stop lying,” Chan tells him, sharper than he had intended to. “You’re pissed you have to work double while I’m having fun out here.”

“I’m not…Channie,” Minho says firmly and sits up. “I’m too tired for this bullshit, seriously.”

“Mhm, okay, fine then,” Chan grumbles. “Sorry for calling.”

“Chan,” Minho snaps. “I was asking because I fucking miss you,” he bursts out.

“If you miss me so much, you could just visit, you know,” Chan says, not really knowing why he’s so pissed either.

“I can’t just disappear right now and leave them all hanging,” Minho argues weakly. “We're already behind.”

“If you’re so busy then what’s the point in me visiting, huh?” Chan asks sourly.

“Visiting? Is that what we’re calling home now? Is that all your husband and wife are now? A visit?” he snaps, tears finally falling down his cheeks. “Seriously, Chan?” he asks, voice cracking.

“Okay, you have five seconds to calm the fuck down, or I’m ending this call,” Chan says calmly. “I don’t know when I’ll come back, Minho, because honestly, I don’t feel like it right now. And if that is all that’s waiting for me, then I don’t know if I want to.”

Minho hangs up on him and sits still for a moment before throwing his phone onto the floor forcefully. He hears the screen cracking and winces softly but doesn’t bother to pick it back up.

You race up the stairs and rip the door open, blinking at him, confused. “What was that?” you ask, speaking of the loud thump his phone made.

“My phone,” he says, and you glance down at it lying on the floor.

“What’s wrong?” you ask worriedly, spotting the tears in his eyes.

“Nothing,” he snaps at you. “Your husband is an asshole, that’s all!”

“Which one?” you ask calmly and raise your eyebrows at him.

He takes a deep breath, reminding himself that you're not his enemy. “Both,” he says sourly. “But your Australian one in particular.”

You chuckle softly and make your way over, stopping in front of the edge of the bed. You soothingly run your hand through his hair and watch him thoughtfully. “He's not coming back yet, is he?”

“No,” Minho whispers and stubbornly stares at the mattress. “I know I was the one saying he should go, but-it's too much.”

“What is?” you ask patiently, wanting him to voice his thoughts.

“Y/nnie,” he sighs softly. “Not now, please. Now I just wanna be pissed and sulk a little.”

You hum gently and brush back his hair. “Need some time alone?”

“Yeah,” he nods and flashes you an apologetic smile. You both know he'll get rid of his frustration more quickly if you don't see how shitty he feels.

“That's okay,” you tell him and cup his face, kissing his forehead. “I'm taking you out for dinner tonight, yeah? Just us two at that place downtown you love.”

“Okay,” he smiles weakly and squeezes your hips for a brief moment before letting go of you. He watches you leave before falling back onto the mattress. Staring up at the ceiling, he thinks back to their conversation, and his throat tightens up painfully. Tears burn in his eyes, and he curses at himself quietly. “Stop being so fucking dramatic,” he tells himself and blinks them away.

You glance up from your spot on the sofa as Minho comes downstairs only minutes later. “That was fast?”

“I won't ruin our date night,” Minho announces as he makes his way over. He stops in front of you and timidly tugs at his sleeve. “Also, I need a hug.”

Your smile softens, and you gently pat the space next to you. A surprised giggle leaves your lips as Minho places himself in your lap instead, burying his face in your shoulder. You soothingly rub his back and hug him tight, gently rocking him in your arms. “I love you, Minnie.”

“I love you too,” he says softly.

“And Channie does as well, yeah?” you ask, and your heart drops as Minho doesn't answer. You gently pull him back, spotting tears in his eyes. “Oh, darling, that bad?”

Minho shakes his head and lowers his gaze. “I'm tired as hell. That only makes it worse.”

“Wanna tell me what happened?” you ask gently, and Minho gives in and tells you about his argument with Chan.

“I know I was overreacting, but he pissed me off,” Minho sighs as he's done.

“You were a little. But so was he,” you chuckle.

“You're married to two idiots, I'm sorry,” Minho chuckles weakly and sighs. “Okay, come on.”

“We don't have to go if you're not feeling up for it,” you assure him. “We can order in, watch a movie or something.”

“No, if my beautiful wife wants to go out for a date, that's what she gets,” he shakes his head and smiles at you sweetly. You blush a little, which gives him the opportunity to kiss you fiercely. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you smile.

Minho's gentle fingers brush against your skin as he laces up your dress in the back. As he's done, his eyes meet yours in the mirror, and they instantly soften, as they always do. His hands find your hips, and he leans down, pressing a small kiss on your shoulder. “You're so beautiful.”

You blush softly and chuckle at yourself for still getting flustered after all those years. “Min,” you say sweetly.

“Don't even try to deny it,” your husband giggles and pulls you against his body. “I love you so much, never forget that, yeah?”

“How could I?” you ask, amused, and cover his hands with yours. “You're unforgettable Min, in every way,” you say and turn in his arms to face him. “My sweet Minho.”

A beautiful smile tugs at his lips, bunny teeth showing as he gives in to the feeling. It travels to his eyes, makes them sparkle so prettily, and you can't help but mirror his smile. He gently caresses your cheek and pulls you into a soft, loving, tender kiss. “My beloved Y/nnie,” he whispers against your lips.

Not much later, you're at the restaurant and Minho seems to cheer up, chewing happily on his food. You giggle at him fondly. “You're so cute.”

He looks almost offended and quickly swallows. “Ey, I have a reputation.”

“Forget it,” you snort. “Everyone who could see you like that would agree with me.”

“Stay always agrees with you when you write those stupid little captions,” he snorts and takes the next bite, doing a little happy wiggle in his seat. His eyes widen as he catches himself doing so, and you start laughing. “Oh fuck off,” he laughs.

You giggle adoringly, and the two of you exchange a soft smile. “You're pretty.”

“Will you stop now?” he asks softly, slowly blushing.

“Never. You're too cute,” you tease him.

“Do I have to remind you again why we have two chopsticks and two eyes?” he threatens you jokingly.

“No, thank you,” you laugh and glance down as your phone pings with a message. Channie.

Minho notices you hesitating for a moment. “Go on,” he urges you gently.

Channie angel❣️: Hey there, my beautiful baby, hope you're doing alright. Don't tell Minnie, but I'll be back for his birthday in two weeks. I love you so so much and can't wait to see you again!🌹🖤

You: Oh, that's exciting!!! I won't tell him a word, promise❤️

You:…but you should text him, Channie angel, he's hurt🥺💔

Channie angel❣️: I'll call him as soon as I'm back at my parents’ place. Enjoy your night out, baby🖤

Channie angel❣️: Tell him I love him.

You look up from your phone and swallow softly, seeing Minho glancing at his broken screen timidly. “Darling?”

“Yeah?” he asks and puts on a warm smile for you.

“Chan says he loves you,” you tell him, and Minho's smile falters a little in surprise. “He wants to call later.”

“Okay,” he nods gently. “Thank you.”

“You'll be okay?” you ask him worriedly and reach for his hand across the table.

“Always,” he promises and brings up your hand to his lips, kissing it. “He can act stupid all he wants, I have you right here tonight.”

You chuckle, amused, and squeeze his hand. “Don't give up on him, yeah? I know it's not easy at the moment…but he still loves you.”

“I know,” Minho assures you gently.

“You two are at your best when you're working together,” you tell him and search his eyes. “He loves you, no matter what.”

Minho nods gently, not wanting to get emotional out here in public. “Thank you for tonight.”

“Any time,” you smile at him softly. “Let's go home, cuddle?”

Minho's face breaks into a beautiful, soft smile, and you study his features as if you'd want to engrave this picture in your brain forever. “Let's go home,” he nods.

Chan barely steps into his room as his phone rings with Minho's signature tune. He frowns softly, wondering why he was calling him now when he told him he would. Chan takes the call and braces himself. “Hey, Minho.”

“Channie,” Minho sobs into the phone and Chan's throat tightens at the broken sound.

“Baby?” he asks worriedly.

“I'm sorry, I fucked up. Fucked up so bad,” Minho rambles through tears, pacing the bathroom. “I swear I didn't mean to.”

Chan frowns softly, and he stops in front of his bed. “Minho, it's okay, it wasn't that bad, hm? It was just a small fight.” he tries softly, and a high-pitched sound leaves Minho's lips. Minho sinks to the floor, breathing heavily, and pulls his legs up to his chest as his shock takes over. Chan picks up on it and sits down at the edge of his bed. “Can we switch to a video call?” What the hell?

“O-Okay,” Minho sobs and accepts the call.

Chan's heart drops to his stomach as he sees him. Tears stream down his face, and he looks terrified. Truly terrified. There's blood on his shirt, there's blood on the hand he uses to try and wipe away his tears. “Minho, fuck, where are you?”

“Hospital” is all he gets out.

“Why, what…Minho, where's Y/N?” he asks, his stomach tightening in fear at the pained sound that leaves Minho when your name is mentioned. “Min?”

Minho's breathing picks up, and he clutches the fabric of his pants tightly, trying to steady himself. “Someone crashed into our car, I-I swear it wasn't my fault. T-The airbag didn't open a-and-,” he breaks off with a sob. “Channie, there was so much blood,” he whimpers.

“Where's Y/nnie?” he asks, barely audible, blank fear taking over him.

PART TWO | PART FOUR

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@atinyniki @kailee08 @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @aaasia111 @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @malfoygalaxies @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland

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beautifulfuckup99 · 11 months ago

Note

ok ok i just got this random idea bare with me

Chubby mid size cute reader, she is very confident but gets inscure from time time

Namjoon is her BF 😉😉and they are camping with their friends. ( some of them are not that nice to her abt her looks).

One girl then says a comment pitting her that she cant be carried or manhandled due to her wait.

Later Namjoon carries her with one arm out of the blue in front of everyone and then a nice spicy time in the woods

Very random 😂😂😂 only u can make it happen😂😂😂

I feel blessed to have so many Namjoon requests!!

Title: For Me...

Warning(s): Insecure!Y/N, Slight B0dy-Sham!ng, Hurt/Comfort, Smut! And of course Fluff!

Author's Note: Obviously set in an AU where Namjoon has his license and drives lol. Enjoy!

*****************************************

"Yes!" Namjoon cheers the second he throws the car in park. You look up from your book, blinking the sleep from your eyes.

"We're here?" You ask, feeling the surge of relief that you no longer have to sit in this car anymore.

"Uh-Huh." He says fast as he gets out of the car, pausing to breathe in deep through his nose. "Baby! You smell that? That's nature, baby!" He cheers excitedly and you close your book, giggling softly as you get out of the car while watching your boyfriend of just six months spin around giddily.

He was a giant dork, and it made your heart flutter in the best way possible.

"Ay! Namjoon! There you are, man. Took you long enough to show up!" Dae laughs as he walks over from where the tents were set up.

When Namjoon had told you about this camping trip with his friends, you were pouty, you had to admit, but you were understanding that he needed time to cut loose with his friends. Especially before he had to run off to the military. BTS being on hiatus meant he had more time to roam and explore and the one thing he's been looking forward to is getting back into nature. When he invited you to join the camp trip, you hesitated. You knew the members of BTS, yeah, but these were buddies of his from back home. Guys who knew him from way back when. School days.

You wanted them to like you, that's all. You slowly get out of the car as Namjoon starts hugging his buddies who run over to greet him. You fix your shirt and hold the sweater more around you. Your sweatpants now feel like a bad idea since all his friends look actually put together. You had done the bare minimum of getting ready, and now you couldn't help but fuss at your hair a bit.

"Oh! Guys, this is my girl. Y/N..." Namjoon smiles proudly, dimples on full display. The four guys surrounding him all eye you up and down.

"This is Y/N?" One guy says slowly as if you're not who they expected. You smile sheepishly as you walk over to grab Namjoon's hand that he's holding out for you.

"Hi, guys. Sorry to interrupt guys' camping weekend. I promise, you won't even know I'm here." You try joking as they continue to just look at you.

"Ay, it's all good. My girl came with too." Dae shrugs as he nods to the campsite where a girl still sat, flipping through a magazine. You nod, kind of relived that you wouldn't be stuck in these woods with just guys.

"I'll go get the bags." Namjoon says and squeezes your hand to assure you before he goes back to the car.

"So, what are you guys thinking for lunch?" You ask to try and start a conversation. The guys all share a look and one finally snickers.

"Too easy." He says before walking away while shaking his head as if humored by something. You feel your heart drop at that moment.

Fuck, this was a mistake...

***************************************

The next morning, you're woken up by Namjoon kissing all over your face as he wraps his leg around your waist. You grumble playfully and open your eyes to face him. Last night had been a nightmare for you. It was full of backhanded compliments and little glances from everyone in the group around you, as if everyone was in on a joke that you didn't know about.

But you DID know the joke. You knew your body, you knew the difference between you and Namjoon, you knew the irony. 'Ha-Ha, Namjoon is all about the gym and health and look at him dating a plus sized girl'. You weren't dumb or blind. You knew your body weight and type, but you also knew that you had one of the best leaders of K-pop wrapped around your finger and drooling over you at any given second. It didn't full stop the self-doubt, but it helped a bit.

You've been chubby since you were a kid. You've heard and dealt with it all. A weekend with jerks like your boyfriend's friends wasn't gonna hurt you too much. And you definitely didn't wanna bring this to his attention either. After this weekend, you'd never have to deal with these people again...

"Morning, baby. We were gonna head to the lake. You're coming, right?" Namjoon whispers finally after a moment of just rubbing his nose with yours. You hum softly at that and stretch a bit.

"That sounds nice." You nod tiredly. You hadn't slept much due to how hungry you were. You picked at your dinner the night before as to not be a cliché plus size person. You watched though as Namjoon had three bowls of the ramen and his buddies all drank and had about two to four each. It was a bit unfair. You wondered for a moment why you had to act carefully when slurping up noodles when your boyfriend sat proudly right next to you, eating and drinking away. Why you had to take small sips of water and after a few bites of food claim you were full when everyone around you shameless enjoyed themselves. Could it be because you had something to prove? Yup, exactly.

"Hey. You okay?" He asks softly as he eyes you closer, hand pushing your hair back to really look at you. You look up at him and the urge to vocalize your uncomfortability is strong, but you shake it off. It was Saturday and you'd be saying your goodbyes Sunday morning. You could do this.

"I'm all good. It was just so hot last night. I couldn't get comfy..." You lie softly and Namjoon nods, pecking your nose.

"Maybe we can sneak away after swimming for a bit and take a nap." He offers softly as he rests his forehead against yours. It makes you blush as you nod along. You two get up soon enough and throw on your bathing suits.

You make sure your black one piece is on right since it was kind of strappy in a few places. You step out of the tent real soon and see all the guys and Dae's girl all look over at you, eyeing your body. Dae's girlfriend gently tugs at Dae's shirt and whispers something in his ear, making him laugh and nod his head in agreement.

The overwhelming feeling of regret swallows you whole and you grab one of Namjoon's shirts to put on over your shirt. You try and act none the wiser to all the snickering which only makes your self anger grow more.

"Okay! Bag is packed and ready to go!" Namjoon says as he steps out of your tent and pauses. "What's funny?" He asks his buddies and they all laugh before shaking it off.

"Nothing, man..." Dae says before walking off with his girlfriend. The other boys follow and Namjoon eyes you and smiles a bit as he tugs at the shirt you had on.

"What's with the cover up?" He asks and you shake your head.

"Just don't wanna get sunburned..." You say softly, not wanting to put a damper on Namjoon's vacation. Just one day. Just one day...

He nods and offers you his arm for the short walk to the lake...

When you get there, the water is cool and clear which is a great contrast to the sun that was beating down on you all today. You get in the water and focus on swimming with Namjoon when Dae grabs his girlfriend from her tanning spot on the dock. He lifts her with both arms as she screams for him to let her down and not to throw her. He doesn't listen and chucks her right into the water.

When she surfaces, she starts yelling at him for throwing her while all the guys laugh expect for Namjoon. He holds you a bit closer to his chest as you both bob in the calm lake. She finally sees you looking at her and glares at you.

"What?" She asks.

"Nothing. Just... Sucks that he ruined your hair." You say back gently. She eyes you a bit and then puts on a false smile.

"Well, at least my boyfriend can pick me up." She says in a joking tone and the boys laughing makes your heart feel heavy in your chest.

"What?" Namjoon asks, having heard her right but shocked that those words even left her mouth.

"Oh, Nam, calm down. It was a joke." One of his friends chuckles and Namjoon glares, obviously pissed at this moment.

"Yeah? I'm not laughing." He says shortly before swimming over to the dock and getting out.

"Namjoon, come on..." Dae tries as your boyfriend grabs his towel and then one for you too. You swim over silently, knowing better than to do anything else but just go with Namjoon to get him out of this situation before he blows up.

He helps you out of the lake and wraps the towel around you before you both leave back to the campsite, ignoring his friends as they try calling you for you guys.

****************************************

You sit between Namjoon's legs, pressed back against his hard chest as you hold the newest novel you have to share cause if not, one of you will read ahead. The walk back to the tent had been silent, the shower at the bath house had been quiet, and now the reading time you two share was full of this tense silence. You knew Namjoon was still pissed and you just hoped you could keep him calm till you left tomorrow morning.

"Done?" You ask, so you could know if you should flip the page or not. When you don't get an answer, you turn your head to face Namjoon and see him deep in thought, jaw clenched and face hard set. You frown softly and gently grab his face to make him look at you.

"Babe. It was a dumb joke..." You try quietly and he looks you in the eyes.

"You didn't sleep well last night because of them, didn't you." He says quietly, putting it all together in his head. It makes you frown, but you couldn't lie to him.

"I was... A little upset. Yeah." You admit quietly.

"Why didn't you tell me? I never want you in a place where you're that uncomfortable, Y/N. You know that." He says as he looks at you.

"They're you're friends, Joonie. I-I just... Wanted you to have fun." You try as he looks at you with a frown.

"Well I'm in hell when you're being hurt." He says quietly. You sigh softly and move to nuzzle into his neck.

"I'm used to this, babe. I grew up plus size." You point out quietly and Namjoon shakes his head.

"And? It wasn't right then, and it sure as hell isn't now." He says.

"I know your body. I love your body. Because your 'body' is just skin. Skin that protects everything in you that matters most." He states seriously. "It protects your heart... Which is full of love and care for the world. It protects your brain... Which is always more intriguing to me than any book out there. And it protects your spirit. Which is what I fell in love with. These amazing curves are a bonus." He says softly and you snort playfully while rolling your eyes.

"I know. I'm perfect to you." You mutter playfully, as if you're annoyed by hearing it.

"You're not just perfect to me. You're perfect for me, Y/N. I love you. And I'm not gonna let anyone talk about or to you in anyway." He says quietly as he holds your waist.

You hum. "Tomorrow morning, we can leave." You assure.

"First thing in the morning..." He agrees.

*************************************

Later that evening, everyone sits around the fire, silently eating and drinking. The tension is thick, and no one dares to make a joke or try and break the silence in anyway. You wanted Namjoon to let go of the grudge and have one last dinner with his friends, but he had insisted that anyone able to make you feel shitty was no friend of his. You were still trying to fight off the guilt, but you knew if you had anyone around you that made Namjoon feel a certain way, they'd be gone ASAP too. You just had to stand by your boyfriend's choice.

"I think..." Namjoon finally says, his deep voice demanding all eyes on him, and they are. Everyone is looking at the five-foot-eleven Korean man as he sets his plate down and rubs his hands together slowly. "Before we call it a night, a few things need to be done.

"One. I'd like to remind you all... That she," He nods to you as you sheepishly play with your bowl of beef stew cooked over the campfire. "Is my girlfriend. The woman I love. And I expect nothing but respect for her." He says, his voice calm but with this dark edge to it. Like he was not expecting any argument to his statement.

"Two." He continues. "At the end of the day, you don't have to find her attractive. She's mine for a reason. Because I find her attractive." He states. "And thirdly, if you don't find her attractive? You're just lying to yourself." He snorts and you bashfully roll your eyes at him.

"You all... Need to apologize for what the hell went on with this trip, and you'll be lucky if I ever want to see any of you again." He states honestly. You gaze along the faces of all his buddies, and you feel slightly guilty, maybe even a little childish due to this lecture. You felt like a kid who just tattled to the teacher. But... You hadn't 'tattled'. Namjoon had heard it. You weren't being overdramatic, you weren't play victim, and you didn't deserve this treatment. And you just had to keep telling yourself that...

With a deep sigh, Dae is the first to speak. "Y/N, we're... We're sorry. We were just joking, you know. Giving you a hard time? That's what we do in this friend group..." He says and you look away from him at that.

"Yeah, well that's not what you do with her." Namjoon speaks for you, and you set the bowl down and nod once at Dae. "Don't accept that half ass apology." Namjoon says to you, and you keep your mouth shut. He stands up finally and dusts his hands on his shorts.

"We're leaving tomorrow morning, early. Y/N." Namjoon says, and you quickly stand up only to feel his arm, wrap around your waist from behind. You feel him lift you up and squat down a bit to put you over his shoulder as you squeal in slight alarm.

"Y/N and I are going to bed. Don't bother us." He says shortly before looking a Dae's girl. "And maybe Dae could lift you, if he went to the gym more." He says simply before carrying you away towards your tent that you had moved away from the others for the night.

"Joonie! Put me down!" You hiss as he gets you two into your tent and sets you on the small foam mattress inside your tent.

"What were you thinking? You could've hurt yourse-" He cuts you off by kissing you deeply, you instantly get lost in the kiss.

"Don't disrespect my lifting abilities like that..." He teases quietly against your lips before kissing you more passionately. You can barely react in time as he pushes you back on the bed freely, climbing on top of you.

"What... What are you..." You pant against his lips before he quickly sits up to take off his shirt and then lays back on top of you, covering your jawline and neck with kisses that made you shiver.

You shut your eyes, melting into the cot as he lowers his lips down towards your cleavage. He's quick to pull your tank top up and bra cups down, freeing your nipples as he grips your breasts in both hands.

"I'm showing you that I love this body..." He whispers before tonguing your nipples one at a time, sucking each one hard to turn them into sensitive buds as you arch your back, head rolling back to moan before you cover your mouth.

"Don't cover up. I want them to hear it. Let them know that I know exactly how to handle you. That I thoroughly enjoy you whenever I can..." He whispers before moving down your body, biting all along your tummy as you look down at him, body feeling on fire at this very moment.

"I'm the luckiest man on earth to have you..." He whispers honestly as he settles between your legs, making you blush hard.

He makes quick work of your shorts and keeps your underwear on, blowing softly on the wet spot and making your clit twitch.

"Joonie... Oh fuck..." You gasp as you reach down to grab his hair, needing to feel something against your soaked core and fast.

"Such a goddess." He praises softly before he gets to work lapping at your clit slowly at first. Your head rolls back as you shut your eyes, always enjoying these sensual moments. Namjoon never teases, but he also loves when things slowly build up, especially since the closer you get the louder you get. He had a thing about you being... Verbal.

"Namjoon..." You pant, keeping this in mind. You loved making him feel good over his ability to make you feel good. It was an exchange of sorts. Sometimes you even found yourself twisting and arching your body in different directions as you screamed out because it just egged him on more. Thank god for porn. It was the best teacher...

He turns sloppier the louder you get, and you lose track of where you are at this point as your moans and hard tugs at his hair egg him on more.

At a certain point, feeling how drenched your underwear is from both your juices and his saliva, you pull him up to kiss him, your tongue exploring his to taste yourself on him. He grabs your neck to hold your head still and proceeds to suck on your tongue, and you all but lose all decency at that second, flipping you both over so you're on top.

"You want them to hear? The let's make sure they hear..." You pant with a giggle as he grips your hips hard and sits up to pull you harder against his bulge that is very much present through his shorts.

"Fuck yes, darling..." He whispers in awe before kissing you hard.

**********************************

The next morning, no one can look you both in the eyes and that's fine, because you're still too blissed out from last night to care what they can or can't do. Namjoon says nothing as he packs up the tent and you know you can't force him to drop the attitude long enough for a proper goodbye.

"Joonie..." You say quietly when you two are finally in the car and driving down the dirt road away from the camping grounds. He hums, eyes stuck on to the road with one hand on the wheel.

"Don't stop being friends with them because of me." You whisper and Namjoon smiles slightly at your concern before he grabs your hand.

"Damn your good heart." He says softly and you pout.

"I'm serious..." You try and he brings your hand up to his lips to kiss it tenderly.

"I know you are. And so am I." He says softly. "You're my best friend, Y/N. And I wouldn't have it any other way." He says honestly and it stops your pouting for a bit as you look down at your entwined hands sheepishly.

"I love you." You finally mutter and lean over to kiss his soft cheek, feeling his dimple form under your lips and it just makes you giggle ever so quietly.

"I love you too..." He whispers, looking at you for a moment to show he means it, and you couldn't be more confident of that in this moment...

***************************************

From one plus size girly to another: You are ENOUGH! You are attractive, and you are indeed that bitch lol. Love you all!

#bts #bts fic #bts army #bts imagine #kim namjoon #namjoon imagine #namjoon smut #bts namjoon #namjoon #namjoon x reader #namjoon bts

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