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#*echoes in the distance* NERD
whimsyfinny · 1 month
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Sexy F*cking Nerd
Dean Winchester x F!Reader
Summary: When Dean discovers a little secret of (Y/n)'s during a case research session he can't help but let temptation get the best of him.
Warnings: Language, Smut, Fingering, PinV, Oral (M receiving), slight angst if you squint, Dean having a glasses kink (not really a warning but not everyone wears them hahaha lucky bastards)
MDNI! 18+
Word Count: 5688
A/N: It's taken a little while but here is the second competition winner from a few weeks back, the prompt provided by the wonderful @foxyjwls007 - I hope you like it!
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The motel room was stuffy to say the least - that usual aroma of stale cigarettes and cheap air freshener lingering around us. There was a dripping sound coming from God knows where and the AC hummed in between the concerning clinking from deep within the vents. It was crap. So crap. But it was home for a few nights; just like all the motel rooms that came before. Dean stepped past me and over the threshold, immediately slinging his duffle and jacket onto his chosen bed. He stretched his arms above his head, the grey Henley clutching his muscular abdomen and rising enough to flaunt what lay beneath. I sighed, following him in and slumping onto the bed beside his - the musty stench from the sheets enveloping me.
“Well…” Dean started, pulling Sam's laptop out of his bag and placing it on the small table by the window.
“Well…?” My voice echoed as I focused on the ceiling fan that spun off centre.
“...This is… nice?” His statement was more of a question as he looked around with raised eyebrows. I propped myself up on my elbows, flashing him a look of speculation.
“Seriously?” A moment passed before he huffed a long-held breath and slapped his large palms on his thighs.
“No of course not, this place sucks more dick than a hooker on payday.”
“You got that right,” I flopped back down onto the bed, a small dust cloud erupting under my weight. I closed my eyes and listened as Dean pulled a chair out from under the table, slumping down into it. Then there was the familiar click of the laptop opening followed by the sound of stuttered not-quite-touch-typing, presumably he was starting work on the case that we’d come here to investigate. The tap tap tap of whatever was leaking began to drill into my brain, my patience already wearing thin with the rooms dire ambiance. I pulled myself up to sitting, criss-crossing my legs on the bed and brushing whatever that dust from the bedding was off my sweater sleeves.
“When's Sam back?” I asked, watching as Dean searched the keyboard in front of him for some long lost letter.
“Uuuh, I'm not sure. He said to work this case without him.”
“Ugghhh, I bet he's having way more fun than us right now, it's not fair,” I plopped my chin into my palm and stared past the older Winchester out the window, almost willing Sam to appear and walk in like any other day.
“It's just some dumb wedding, I doubt he's having that much fun.”
I scoffed before I could stop myself, Dean breaking eye contact with the screen to throw me a raised eyebrow.
“Look,” I collected myself, “you didn't know Sam in college. He won't admit it but he was popular. Really popular. Not the total nerd you think he is. He's absolutely having fun with these people.”
“Yeah right. So who's at this wedding anyway? Why was it so important that he just had to be there?”
I rolled my eyes, knowing full well Sam had already told him all the details. Typical Dean.
“It's for a couple of friends who he and Jess were close with back then. Pretty sure the bride was prom queen in highschool or something and the groom was a trust fund jock. Either way, not my crowd,” I sighed slightly, memories from my college days flooding my mind.
Deans eyebrows twitched into a small frown, his thoughts seeming to cloud his vision for a second before he reluctantly dismissed them. I looked down into my lap for a moment, reminiscing how I always kept my distance from Sam whilst at Stanford, but he had always been that boy that would make my heart flutter when he spoke up in class or when I'd see him on the quad with his friends. I remember seeing him with his nose in a book once at my usual desk in the library, my cheeks burning when he caught me staring. Who would've thought several years down the line I'd be sat in a bottom-rung motel room with his obscenely good looking older brother researching monster lore. At least we would be researching monster lore, if it wasn't for the small growl my empty stomach had gurgled out. I couldn't stop the small pulse of embarrassment burning into my cheeks as Dean eyed me with a grin.
“Wanna get some lunch?” He asked, standing up like he already knew my answer.
“Fuck yes. I'm feeling burgers,” I shuffled to the edge of the bed and stood up, watching as Dean shrugged on his leather jacket and headed to the door, holding it open for me.
“Now you're speaking my language.”
*
The diner was almost as sad and withered as the motel room, however the food was nothing short of spectacular. I watched in awe as Dean polished off his second burger, a small glob of sauce sticking to his stubble and threatening to drip off his chin. He must've felt me watching in wonder - or perhaps disgust - as when he looked up from his plate he shot me a questioning glance.
“What?” His tone was a little defensive through the mouthful of fries he'd just shovelled in. I took a second before asking, half-genuine:
“Where do you put all of that?”
“Put what?”
“The food - where does it go? Do you have hollow legs? Two stomachs? Does it just evaporate as soon as you swallow it?”
He grinned, wiping the sauce from his face with a napkin.
“Goes straight to the abs baby. It's muscle fuel,” he leant back in his chair, stretching a little before patting his stomach to punctuate his statement. I simply rolled my eyes.
“Yeah right, you're not that muscly Dean.”
“How would you know? You've never seen me with my shirt off.”
“I know, and I plan to keep it that way.”
He feigned a pout before returning to his fries. We ate in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, my mind absently going back to all the lore we should be trying to gather. I gripped my milkshake that had so generously been served in a thin paper cup, attempting to suck the practically solid beverage up the equally thin paper straw. Finding the nearest library would be the next task on our to-do list, despite the protesting I know I'll get from Dean.
“Hey, (Y/n)?” My train of thought was derailed at the sound of my name. The slurping of over-thickened milkshake from myself ceased.
“What's up?”
“What were you like in college?”
I eyed him with caution, wondering what part of his brain was in control right now.
“What do you wanna know?”
Catching the wariness to divulge him to such information, he smiled slightly, shrugging his shoulders.
“I'm not asking to be weird, I just-” he paused, choosing his next words tactfully, “the way you described Sam as being a totally different person - some hot-shot with the perfect grades, popular friends and a girlfriend like Jess - it just got me thinking. How would Sam have described you?”
I almost spat my dairy-goop back into the straw, my brain freezing.
“Dean,” I started before planning what I was going to say, placing my cup on the table. “Sam wouldn't be able to describe me.”
My words brought a small smirk to his lips.
“You were that hot, huh?”
“What the fuck- no- I wasn't- he didn't- Sam never- ” I stopped myself before I had an aneurysm and took a deep breath.
“I was in a totally different crowd to Sam. He was always surrounded by people and, well, I barely even had a crowd.”
“Lone wolf?”
“Bingo. But definitely not the cool, collected, stoic type. Think more, invisible to the public eye, always carrying books, and borderline selective mute because of how shy I was.”
“Oh… what changed?,” Deans tone changed entirely, genuine intrigue seeming to take the wheel. I couldn't help but laugh slightly, remembering my method to forcing myself out of my bubble.
“The only job I could get was in a bar. No one else wanted the hours and I desperately needed cash. I didn't really have a choice after that,” I paused, remembering how terrified I was on my first day and grinned slightly, grateful for the extra confidence I had now because I took that leap.
“Hey, what sort of crowd do you think I would've been in?”
I snorted, looking up into his expectant eyes - almost captivated by the glistening greens.
“What am I? A BuzzFeed quiz? I have no idea Dean, you're too much of a wildcard to predict. You probably would've fit in with anyone and everyone.”
“Even you?”
For reasons unbeknownst to even myself, my breath caught in my throat. The sudden soft sincerity of his voice contradicting his usual temperament, my heart starting to flutter in my chest. If the college version of myself had met Dean back then I just know I would have been enthralled at first glance.
“I don't think you would've noticed me. You would've been surrounded by every tall, thin blonde and brunette with perfect tits. Trust me, you would've been distracted,” I smiled an almost sad smile at the thought of him simply being on university grounds and having the time of his life - knowing it was something that he was never going to get the chance to experience in this upside down life of his. Of ours. He tapped his fingers on the table for a second, likely lost in some ludicrous thought I don't think I'd want to be privy to. I attempted another slurp of my milkshake when the paper straw gave out and flopped in half, the need to leave conversation and the diner suddenly looming over me.
“Come on, let's get to the library before it closes,” I stood and pulled my oversized sweater down so it covered my ass before reaching for my backpack. Just as my fingers touched the worn fabric of the strap it was torn away, my head snapping up to Dean who flung it over one shoulder with his signature grin on his face.
“Lead the way nerd.”
I couldn't help but beam at his playfulness. I hated the fact that he made it so easy to adore him. Hated that he completely overlooked how I was his total opposite in almost every way. How when we were talking, his eyes never left mine - how he was genuinely interested in what I was like in the past. And how, when I had his attention, he didn't even notice that the hot waitress had written her number on a napkin and left it next to him.
*
The trip to the library was about as eventful as it sounded. After checking out multiple books on cursed items, local lore and popular antiques from the seventies, we loaded ourselves back into the impala, made an all-important beer run before heading back to the motel.
The small table by the window was now totally smothered by a blanket of books, maps and empty beer bottles. Deans chin rested in his palms as he stared blankly at the screen in front of him, and I must've read the last sentence of the paragraph laid before me a dozen times without it even sinking in. The obnoxious dripping and humming of ancient appliances was starting to make me feel restless.
“It has to be the boots,” Dean groaned, draining the last of his beer.
“Either the boots or the disco ball. But my money is on boots as well,” I sighed, pushing the book away from me and standing slowly, gathering the quickly accumulating litter now scattered around us.
“I'm gonna make some coffee, my brain is fried over how fucking ridiculous this case is,” I ditched the trash in the bin before filling the coffee machine, listening to it whir to life whilst I headed to my bed. I could feel Deans gaze on my back as I rummaged around my bag in search of a specific item.
“What are you looking fo-” he'd started to ask the question but his voice died in his throat when I turned around. I quickly pushed my newly adorned glasses up the bridge of my nose, already feeling the oversized frame start to slip down as I tried not to make a big deal over them.
“What?” My tone was a fraction off aggressive when I realised he was staring. He seemed to snap out of his daze, quickly rubbing the back of his neck and turning back to the laptop screen. He cleared his throat
“I uh, I didn't know you wore glasses,” I could tell from the slight tremble in his voice that his mind was reeling.
“Is there a problem with that?”
“No! I mean, no, absolutely not. They look good. The glasses, I mean. The glasses look good. Not on their own, obviously. On your face. They look good on your face. You have a great fa-”
“Dean?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up.”
“Sorry.”
I grabbed a mug from the cupboard and set it on the counter, filling it to the brim with caffeinated goodness. I couldn't stop the grin spreading across my lips at Deans fumbling, almost finding the whole ordeal a little charming. I sat back down at the table and pulled the books back towards me, also grabbing my pen and tattered notebook.
“The guests at the club mentioned hearing footsteps - so it has to be the boots, right? A disco ball wouldn't make that sound…” my voice trailed off when I realised that, even though Dean was looking at me, he wasn't listening to a word I was saying.
“Earth to Dean?”
He flinched slightly at his name, but felt no shame delving in with a completely off-topic question.
“So how long have you worn glasses?”
“I’ve always worn them,” I slid back into my chair at the table opposite him, not sure whether to laugh at the shocked expression on his face or whether to be concerned about his observation skills.
“What?! No way, I would’ve noticed,” He opened another beer and took a sip before tracing the opening to the bottle over his bottom lip.
“ I only wear them for concentration work, and I have emergency contact lenses if I know I’m going to be around a lot of people as I don’t particularly like how they look.”
Dean made a small disagreeable expression before averting his gaze from mine back to the laptop, taking another swig of his beer. I placed my coffee mug down and settled back into the book I was reading before, and after a few moments I could feel my skin begin to prickle - as though I could feel a pair of eyes on me. I glanced up, my breath immediately catching in my throat. Deans eyes found mine, burning with an intensity that made my heart hammer in my chest. I didn’t want to look away, but under his gaze I felt like I’d been stripped bare, unable to hide my insecurities from an eye that seemed to scorch through to my very core.
“Dean-”
“(Y/n), you should really have more confidence in yourself; I think the glasses look cute as fuck. You should wear them more,” a fierce blush erupted across my face when he spoke, his assured tone leaving no room for disagreement. I tried desperately not to let on that his words held any sort of impact over my decisions so I looked down, away from his scrutiny and simply said:
“Maybe I will.”
He hummed in approval, finally looking elsewhere and I couldn’t stop myself from breathing a sigh of relief when the pressure of his stare was averted.
The evening dragged on and an hour and a half had passed since his loaded comment. I was on the third book we’d checked out of the library, now trying desperately to find the curse that would cause a pair of 1970s glam rock boots to dance for eternity and haunt anyone who tried to wear them. This case was absurd, and I could feel myself growing restless with the small amount of progress we’d made. I huffed out a sigh and leant back in my chair, the faux leather and rusted metal creaking under my weight. Pulling the hair bobble from around my wrist I scooped my hair into a bundle on the top of my head, securing it in place; the sensation of air on my neck seemed to clear some of the fog from my brain. The messy bun was comfortably enough that I could forget it was there, and I allowed myself a stretch before leaning back over the table, grasping my pen. As I began to read the next segment, I absently traced the end of the pen over my bottom lip, running it back and forth a few times before gently nibbling on the end. I heard the shuffling of Dean moving in his seat and a ragged clearing of his throat before the sound of vigorous laptop keys clicking ensued. Without looking up at him I continued reading, the pen still tapping my bottom lip, and when I neared the bottom of the paragraph, I slowly licked the pad of my index finger. My eyes never leaving the words, I turned the page swiftly with my dampened digit, the transition from one page to the next perfectly seamless. Another shuffle from the man opposite followed by a quiet groan filled the silence between us. Pen still between my teeth, I lifted only my eyes to glance at him and noted the dusting of pink across his cheeks and the furrow in his brow. Concluding that he’d had one too many beers I decided to ignore his persistent fidgeting, returning to my previous task on monotonous reading. Several sentences in and I’d almost forgotten Deans restlessness - that was until I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, deep in thought, that I earned myself a throaty groan and an exasperated sigh. I looked up just in time to watch him wipe a large hand down his face, momentarily masking his pained expression.
“Can you not do that? I can’t concentrate when you do that.”
“Do what?” Upon asking my question I absently took the pen between my teeth again, quickly glancing down at the book to place a mental bookmark.
“That.”
“What?”
“That. That thing you do with our mouth, and the pen, and your tongue and your finger. Can you please stop before it kills me.”
The heat beneath my skin was immediate at his admission, knowing my small, absent-minded actions were playing on his mind and making it hard for him to think straight. I instinctively crossed my legs, a fluttering in my lower belly instantly dragging my mind back to the deprived things I’d imagined Dean doing to me in the depths of night. The places I’d imagined his hands travelling, the areas his lips would touch and the sensations his tongue could create. These were deeply, deeply personal fantasies, and right now as Dean looked at me with a restrained hunger, I felt like I was wearing these fantasies for the world to see. For Dean to see.
“It doesn’t help that you’ve been sat over there like a sexy fucking librarian all evening, but every time you do that anything with that mouth - shit, sweetheart you’re driving me insane.” His voice was gravelly as he looked at me with desperate eyes across the table. The overly rational part of my brain had shut down completely, and now the part of my mind that had spent hours conjuring vivid scenes of Dean Winchester ravishing me in my entirety had taken the charge. I stood slowly, taking a moment to reason with myself - unsuccessfully of course - before sinking to my knees in front of my chair. I could see Deans strong thighs were spread wide beneath the table so I crawled forwards, across the cold tiles and placed myself between his legs. Resting my palms softly on his thighs I made him flinch at the unexpected contact. He immediately scooted his chair back, allowing a gap for me to poke my head through - his hand instantly acting as a barrier between the edge of the table and my skull. I got comfortable and allowed myself a moment to gaze up at him, to take in the strained furrow in his brow and the parting of his lips. I observed the way his chest rose and fell in apprehensive breaths, and the way his free hand clenched into a fist on his thigh - like he was so desperate yet so scared to touch me.
“(Y/n)-”
“Dean,” I spoke softly, slowly running my hands up his thighs - delicate palms against rough denim, “you’re a smart boy - you know I wouldn’t do something I didn’t want to do. So please, don’t say I don’t have to do this.”
Dean released a shaky breath the moment my fingers unclasped his jeans. I tugged them down slightly with his help, just enough so I could dip my hand into his boxers and wrap my fingers around his half-hard length. The moment my skin touched his, his head lolled back and his eyes fluttered closed with a breathy moan on his lips.
“Fuck…”
I gently pulled him from his confines, coming face to face with the cock I’d literally dreamt of again and again. I took the scene in, committing to memory the sharp outline of his jaw and the way his long lashes rested on his lightly-freckled cheeks. The way that, every time he breathed in, I could see his defined muscle tone through the thin fabric of his shirt; and with every small caress that my fingers made against his length, it made his fingers twitch and teeth clench. I licked my lips before leaning in and took his tip into my mouth, not giving him a chance to finish sucking in air through his teeth before I plunged his entire length down my throat. 
“Oh FUCK.”
His hands flew to my hair, fingers gripping tight as they loosened strands from the messy bun, causing them to fall around my face. He’d lifted his head to look down at me, pupils blown as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. He looked nothing more than enthralled. Infatuated. Entranced. I moved my head up and down, up and down, again and again to a steady rhythm, pressing my tongue to the underside of his now rock-hard cock to trace every vein and nerve-ending.
“Shit, (Y/n), I didn’t know you could suck cock, like, at all… how’re you s’fuckin’ good…” his voice was breathless as he continued to grip my hair, his head flopping to the side as pleasure started to overcome his senses. I released him with a small ‘pop’, wrapping my fingers around him and smearing the warm mixture of saliva and precum from tip to base.
“Despite everything I told you earlier, Dean, I’m not a virgin - and this certainly isn’t my first rodeo,” my voice came out more sultry than I’d expected and I could feel Dean tremble beneath my palms.
“Fuck, I wish I’d known that sooner,” I chewed on my bottom lip, quickly becoming addicted to the way he writhed at my touch. The way he moaned and gripped my hair tighter when I sucked him back into my mouth was like pure ecstasy, my insides heating up and throbbing with an ache of familiar arousal. Like a thirst that could only be satisfied by him. By tasting him, feeling him on my tongue and drinking in every sound that passed his plush parted lips. The sensation of my glasses slipping down my nose as I sped up my ministrations had me reaching to push them back up, but not before Dean beat me to it. With the rough pad of his thumb he pushed on the plastic bridge, his palm and fingers pressed to my flushed cheek in the most tender, almost heart wrenching caress. I thought my heart might stop when he tilted my face up to his; lustful eyes burning into mine with a vehemence I’d never encountered. I stopped in my tracks, all actions ceased as the spell he’d somehow put me under wouldn’t let me look away. 
“If you keep going like that darlin’ this whole thing is gonna be over before you know it,” his voice was raspy, a rawness to it from the harsh breaths and ragged moans that had been pulled from his throat. He slowly pulled his cock from my spit-slick lips and grasped it loosely, giving himself a few lazy pumps whilst his other hand never left my face. He stared down at me, taking a few moments as though he was committing the sight of me, knelt between his knees with flushed cheeks and swollen lips to memory. Once it seemed that memory was locked away in the depths of his mind, he grasped me by the arm and pulled me effortlessly into his lap, his fingers almost bruising against my skin. Immediately I felt him, in his entirety, press against me with the heat and wetness seeping through my jeans and past my panties. This time when our eyes met, there was a mutual desperation; a need to consume each other and to feel every inch of his heated skin against mine. He pulled me frantically down to him and crashed his lips against mine. 
Some people describe their first kiss with someone like butterflies in their stomach, or fireworks exploding all around them. That wasn’t at all what this was like. Kissing Dean Winchester was different - it was wild and untamed - and describing this experience in such a mundane way would be like adding water to a top-shelf whiskey. Kissing Dean Winchester was like driving the impala at one thirty with the roar of the engine drowning out the rest of the world. It was like trying to ride a wild mustang without a saddle, or daring to stand on the highest peak on Earth with nothing to tie you down. It was exhilarating in the most dangerous way imaginable - and I was now officially a thrill seeker. 
The warm taste of the beer on his tongue and the masculine scent of old leather and cologne was pulling me under. Breathing no longer mattered as long as his mouth was on mine and his fingers were in my hair, now tugging the bobble out and throwing it to the floor. As my hair tumbled free he grabbed under my thighs and stood effortlessly, moving me from his lap to the edge of the table without his lips leaving mine. I winced slightly as the corners and several books and the laptop jabbed into my rear and I fumbled to move everything aside, failing when I refused to unlock our lips. Deans patience was non-existent and with one sweep of his strong arm everything tumbled to the floor - including the laptop. I threw the remaining books from underneath me down to join them, no longer caring for their wellbeing. Before I could pull Dean back in - to allow him to do whatever the fuck he wanted to do to me - he hastily pulled off my boots and tugged down my jeans, throwing every item to the growing pile of chaos beside us. I discarded my sweater and top, but before I let his fingers touch my bra I wanted nothing more than to return the favour. 
“I guess you can forget about that whole ‘never seeing me shirtless’ thing, huh?” he smirked through the sexual fog, not waiting for a reply as his lips hungrily found mine again, his own top falling to the floor. 
“Shut up Winchester. Now are you gonna fuck me or wh- OH FUCK-”
Two thick fingers crept under my panties and plunged into me with zero hesitation, curling up and stroking the sensual cushion deep within my core with skillful precision. 
“Oh yeah? You want me to fuck you?” Even with my face now buried in the crook of his neck, I could hear the smirk in his voice, the tormenting tone going straight to my brain.
“Y-yes- fuck- please,” my knees twitched either side of him, squeezing at his hips with every push of his fingers. I gripped his shoulders tight, nails indenting his skin as I leant back to look at him better. Seeing the beads of sweat on his chest and brow alongside the raw, carnal desire in his eyes could have undone me there and then. He frowned in disapproval when I moved to remove my glasses, the fingers that were just inside me now wrapped forcefully around my wrist.
“What d’ya think you’re doing?” straight away I knew his growling question left no room for negotiation.
“I was just-”
“The glasses stay on.”
“To the end?”
“‘Til I say you can take them off.”
I did as I was told, moving my hand to grip the soft strands on the back of his neck, softly dragging my nails over his scalp and drawing a shiver from his spine and a groan from his lungs. He pulled me against him, crushing his lips against mine one more time. He swiftly pulled away and I leant back on my hands, both of us taking a moment to drink each other in - to bask in lascivious glory. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and looked up at him through my lashes, the lenses of my glasses starting to fog around the edges. Another deep moan rumbled from his chest as his heated gaze stayed locked to mine.
“I can’t wait any longer now that you’ve looked at me like that. Fuck.”
With a large hand gripping the soft flesh of my thigh he pulled my underwear to one side and lined himself up, slowly sinking in. Blissful moans harmonised between us, the rawness of him stretching me was unlike anything I’d ever experienced and my quivering thighs wrapped around him, pushing him to the hilt. He secured his large hands on the soft flesh of my hips and held me in place as he slowly withdrew. I could feel him; feel every ridge and vein drag out and then in, out and in, over my most sensitive, intimate, area. The slick sounds of our intimacy  began to echo around the room as he picked up speed, strong thighs working at a feverish pace. With every thrust he pushed against that one spot that made my legs jerk and eyes water, my arms almost giving out underneath me as the table rattled beneath my weight. With the ferocity of his pounding and the heightened sensitivity he’d curated between my legs only moments before, we both knew that neither of us would last long. The sounds of his ragged breaths and throaty moans alone had me clenching around him already, and I know my constricting muscles already had his hips stuttering as I sucked him in with every thrust.
“Fuck (Y/n)- You’re so fuckin’ tight-”
I chewed on my bottom lip as his desperate eyes met mine.
“Oh yeah? Well I feel like you’re cock is in my fucking ribcage- oh fuck-”
He slipped one hand between us, his large palm resting on my lower belly as his thumb drew fast circles around my clit. The immediate contact on my bundle of nerves had my whole body quivering, the knot of an impending climax already starting to twist tighter and tighter in the depths of my core. The way that Dean fucked me into the motel room table was something that I would be able to feel deep in my soul for the rest of my life - my body and entire nervous system having never been worked in such a feral way before. Dean dropped forward and crushed my body into his - one large strong arm wrapped around my trembling body and kept me pressed against him as his head dropped to the crook of my neck. Soft lips pressed hot kisses against my shoulder, teeth gently nibbling the soft flesh as the coil wound and wound, the wave of orgasmic bliss rising higher and higher as my mind emptied, leaving behind only one thought.
Dean.
He was all consuming - all I could see, taste and smell. All I could feel. Oh God could I feel him; driving me to the brink of pure bliss as he frantically sped up - desperate to seek his own undoing as well as my own. One… two… three more fervid thrusts and the peak he’d helped me ascend to shattered around me as I practically screamed his name, the white-hot euphoria scorching my insides as I clamped like a vice around him. 
“Oh shit- (Y/n) I can’t- fuck-”
I grabbed the back of his head and pushed his mouth to mine as he came undone, spilling inside me as he worked through his own white-hot euphoria. 
The kiss we shared evolved from hot and needy to soft and wanting - the sensation of hot cum running down the inside of my thigh and cooling against my skin being the only thing to pull me away. Dean continued to lean over me for a moment, looking down at me with an expression that told me he had so much he wanted to say. Instead, he looked down at his release now starting to pool on the floor beneath us, then to the books and laptop that had been thrown across the floor before turning back to face me with the most devilish grin on his face.
“You know that this mess is all your fault, right?”
I scoffed.
“My fault? How is it my fault?”
“Because, sweetheart…” he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and pushed lightly on the plastic bridge sitting on my nose.
“You put on on those fucking glasses.”
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Taglist: @roseblue373 @hobby27 @calibootsgirl @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @lyarr24 @autistic-gothic @wattpaduser200 @spndeanwinchesterlvr @mxtansy @libby99hb @magssteenkamp @redmaro86 @slut-for-evans-stan @spookyysinsanity @localjisung
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enree9h · 10 days
Text
ECSTACY | psh
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PAIRING : loser!hoon x fem!reader
SYNOPSIS : “He watches you like he wants you to wreck him, like he wants you to make him your most remarkable one, the kind you would think about during the nights you’d spend writhing under other men.” He's just down bad for you.
WARNINGS : SMUT, p in v, kissing, grinding, unprotected s.ex, teasing? begging, reader is kinda mean, dry humping, making out, hickey.
wc : 2.3k+
MDNI
a/n : Try to ignore any and all grammatical errors and typos if possible!! This hoon is for the history books because the glasses!??? THE BLACK SHIRT!??? SIR!? I'm on my knees. ALSO OMG TAGLIST FOR FUTURE WORKS ANYONE??
Sunghoon’s gaze falls on you. The gentle overhead lights of the lecture hall bounce off the gloss on your lips. You sit with your legs crossed and perched up on a desk, the skirt riding up your already exposed thighs and Sunghoon feels the air get knocked out of his chest. 
He walks into the room and hopes he gets to walk out without garnering any notice from you. Because any and every interaction with you left him pathetically holed up in his room with his hands down his pants and the image of your gloss staining his twitching cock clouding his head.
“Nerd party’s over?” you ask- your voice an echo. Your eyes fall on Sunghoon, his back to you, the black shirt stretching just right across the span of his shoulders. You pretend it doesn't strike up something inside you. 
Sunghoon turns to look at you, “Facilitation ceremony” 
You let his words run through and out your ears and walk down the stairs towards him. “Same thing” you shrug, disinterest coats your words. 
“Right” he mumbles a quick tight-lipped response and goes back to shuffling around with papers on the lecturer's desk. 
Walking around the desk you come to lean by the edge, your eyes trailing on Sunghoon the entire time. “Ugh, you're literally no fun,”  you say, your head lolling back. 
Oh, Sunghoon could be fun but he didn't want to come off as a creep so he stands back with the response behind his lips. Instead, he leans in, and the distance between the two of you fogs with tension, “What makes you so fun” His tone doesn't hide a whole lot of what he was feeling but it rattles you just fine. 
“A lot of things Hoon” You inch closer, your thighs now on the desk, your legs brushing against his. But Sunghoon’s mind is point-blank, the touch of your skin against his pants leaves him dodging your gaze. But when he finally meets your eyes you find his gaze growing dark. 
“Show me” 
And so you do. 
You push him lightly, his body slumps down in an empty chair, his hands lay on his thighs, gaze on you. He watches you like he wants you to wreck him like he wants you to make him your most remarkable one, the kind you would think about during the nights you’d spend writhing under other men. So when Sunghoon lets you climb him you take it upon yourself to make this the best he’d ever had, the best he could ever have. 
You fall into his lap, your fingers running over his shoulder blades, tracing every curve. “Touch me” Your tone leaves it as a whispered request, it's almost like you're asking him to take you, keep you all for himself. 
You look up at him, feigning innocence and Sunghoon feels the pressure build up. 
“We don't want that” his voice touches an octave that makes you quiver. 
“Why baby” Your fingers move over his nape and slide into the brunette mop of his hair, your nails lightly scratching against his scalp. 
“Not here” he mutters, “not now”, his words echo a warning and you feel yourself grow eager and restless at the rumble of his voice. 
A chuckle sits at the edge of your throat but you bite your lips to keep it in. Sunghoon watches your teeth sink into the flesh of your lower lips and he realizes he's lost all his mind to the pink of your lips and the feel of your body pressing into his. 
His hands move until they find your ass and when they do you feel his fingers dig into your skin. Him squeezing your ass in the slightest earns him a low groan out of you and you hate how easily you gave it away.
The corner of his lips turns up, a smirk sits on the edge of his mouth and you want to wipe it off the second you see it turn into a cocky grin. So you do what you'd been dying to do- even though you would never actually admit to having such emotions, and dive in. 
It catches you in a great deal of surprise when Sunghoon's lips meet yours halfway through, so eager, so ready. His glasses slip over the bridge of his nose and he grabs them the second he realizes it hinders your movements. The glasses lay askew on the nearest desk, long forgotten. 
“But I liked them,” you say, your lips curving into a pout while you try to be as convincing as possible. But Sunghoon could see right through you and as much as he wanted to believe your words he decided against it.
“Whatever” and with a frustrated mumble of words he lifts his hips to reach for the discarded pair of glasses, slipping them back on. You catch his lips in a haste the very next second. 
You smile against his lips but Sunghoon was too busy fighting for entrance to notice. His teeth pull at your lower lip, almost begging for you to open up and let him in. 
So when you do, your tongue meets his in a fiery haste and you let his lustful rage take a hold of you. His hands inch upwards and stop at the dip of your hips and you feel his grip on you, the blunt curves of his nails marking your skin and that drove you right over the edge. 
Your lips leave his and you feel your body vibrate with the low growl of his pants. Your fingers- still tangled in his hair, pull on the strands until his head falls back and leaves the skin of his neck exposed. 
You attach your lips to his jaw and leave sloppy kisses on your way down to his neck. When you hear him groan, you suck harder hoping it wouldl leave marks and bruises too noticeable to hide because at that moment you wanted him all to yourself. 
Your fingers inch lower until your nails bump against his belt and you pull on it the moment you get a hold of it. Sunghoon lightly thrusts his hips into you in response and you moan as his bulge pushes into the wetness of your core. 
He loved feigning innocence and you realize at that moment that he wanted to make you beg for it. So you tug on his belt a little harder whilst digging your tongue into his mouth and you feel him chuckle against your lips the next second. 
“Fuck you” 
Your words are hurried, annoyance drips off your lips and you look at him with your eyebrows furrowed. But Sunghoon is simply dumbstruck by the swell of your wet lips, the red of flushed skin. 
“Yeah?” his voice scratches against his throat, the word a question, almost taunting. 
“Yeah” you respond as your lips dive into him but Sunghoon catches them with ease. When your teeth find his bottom lip, they sink into it and sink until the taste of iron coats both your tongues. 
You feel him play with the hem of your skirt and watch his hands disappear underneath the black cloth. His eager fingers reach you and you gasp into his mouth at the press of his knuckles against your throbbing core. 
“You like that”, the bite in his voice leaves you breathless and you take it upon yourself to conceal every sound that would fall over your trembling lips henceforth. 
Your body leans on his, your weight balanced over his tensed shoulder as your fingers fiddle with the buckle of his belt. They slip and miss every time and your growing frustration simply gets a chuckle out of Sunghoon. 
“Say it” 
“Need you” the rasp in your voice makes Sunghoon take notice of the bulge in his pants, straining against the fabric, coming away slightly wet. 
You move to catch his jaw with your lips while your hands inch lower until your palm presses against him. Sunghoon’s head is thrown back the moment you press down on his bulge a little more, the pressure making his eyes roll. 
When you feel your patience wearing thin you let him hear what he'd been wanting to hear, you let him hear your desperate whimpers, you let him hear the “please Hoon” you whisper into his ear. 
And you know it worked when moments later you find him shuffling and moving under you, unzipping his pants. You feel the tip of his cock push into the cloth of your underwear but you make no attempts to slip out of it anytime soon. So you lower yourself until you feel the wetness stick to your inner thighs. 
“Oh god please” he is a whimpering mess underneath you. Your gaze runs over his squirming self, eyes rolled to the back of his head, skin red, dotted with the purple bruises of your teeth and you love it, love how for the night he's yours to keep. 
You abruptly leave his lap and the loss of your warmth jerks Sunghoom out of the undying splendor of your body pressed against his. You stand still, your chest heaving up and down as your push out labored breaths of air. 
Sunghoon has never had anything drive him THIS wild so when you lift your skirt to rid yourself of your underwear he wonders if all of it was real because he's never been in a trance this intense. He loses all his consciousness to you, to your thighs, to the feel of your nails digging into him as you climb into his lap and slowly lower yourself onto his cock. 
“Fuck”, spots dot Sunghoon’s vision, his nails dig in deeper, leaving half moons engraved on your skin. He feels your walls stretch around him as he slides in with ease. 
The sound of your wetness blanketing his cock was his unwinding. Your body jerks lightly in his hold and it makes him raise his hips in response. You bite into the taut muscles of his neck as he thrusts into you without thought and increases the pace by lifting you up and lowering you on him.
Sunghoon couldn't wrap his head around the press of your chest against his, the sting of your bite on his neck, the marks of your nails over his clothed back. He was ecstatic and in a daze and he wouldn't have wanted it any other way. 
When you move with a slightly desperate and hurried pace Sunghoon watches your tits as they bounce behind your black buttoned top, the fabric stretching around the buttons, waiting to be ripped open. So that is exactly what he does, he rips it open.
Your vision is dotted with the buttons of your top flying around and you feel his lips on the exposed skin of your chest the very next second. 
He sucks on it like he wants the taste to linger and find home on his lips. His hands on your hips speed up and you are lowered on him harder. You let a strangled moan out when you feel the tip of cock hit your cervix, the pleasure makes your back arch leaving Sunghoon with more of your tits exposed. 
He loves how it drives him to insanity, how when he moves to leave blooming marks of purple on your chest, he comes away tasting vanilla and how when you grab his jaw and make him kiss you in an attempt to stifle the sounds that fall out of you, he pulls away with the taste of strawberry on his lips. 
“Oh god just there” your words don't make sense to you anymore but Sunghoon catches every syllable and is always left wanting more. So when he rocks his hips upwards and feels his cock reach new depths, you are groaning into his mouth wanting more too.
You move on his cock with a newfound energy and Sunghoon takes it as a sign to move faster because he'd do anything you would ask of him if it got him the sight of your whimpering self bouncing on him. 
His neck is lined with imprints of your bites, the skin around them red and wet but Sunghoon shows no signs of pain because he'd let you bite into him until you drew blood, until you grew enough of him. 
You feel the muscles in your abdomen contract, your walls clenching around him and your hold on his shoulders tightens. Sunghoon feels the vibrations of your groans seep into his body but he wants more, he wants to hear you scream his name so he lifts you up and drives you down on him until he hears his name whispered into his ears. 
“Oh my- ” you're crying out, “Sunghoon”, his name falls over your lips in between pants and when you move to hide in the crook of his neck you feel his lips against your cheeks, curve upwards. He lets you take the lead, lets you decide the pace and you move until you feel the knot in your stomach unwind. 
The warmth of your release coats the both of you but Sunghoon wasn't done. So he thrusts into you, into your overstimulated hole until he feels his cock twitch inside of you. 
When you feel his cum drip down your inner thighs you move in an attempt to climb out of his lap. But his hands on your hips cage your movement, “Let go” you say staring into his eyes with vague interest but Sunghoon gazes back at you with a glint in his eyes. 
All energy had been drained right out of you so you don't give it a fight and simply drop back into his lap. Your eyes feel heavy and your limbs hang at your sides so you give into the forthcoming sleep and nuzzle into the crook of his neck. When you feel kisses being pressed against your earlobe you let sleep take over you.
Sunghoon watches the subtle rise and fall of your chest as you lay against him and makes it a point to memorize the gentle slope of your nose bridge, the sound of your breathing and the feeling of you pressed against him.
540 notes · View notes
tarjapearce · 8 months
Note
Ok, ok, ok, hear me out….
Tarzan Miguel…
Ahh, nonny. Casually just saw this scrumptious fanart of him as Tarzan by @Miuworm in X 🫠. And yeah. (Kinda amazed at how you guys manifest these things 🤭)
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Like Me
Tarzan! Miguel O'Hara x Reader.
WARNINGS: nothing too bad. Depictions of violence, a bit of implicit gore and animal death. No proofread.
Summary: Your savior from a certain death is quite touchy-feely.
Another for Miguelverse ❤️✨
The furious waves of the sea clashed over your body, submerging it in the freezing and alive water.
Arms moved, swimming your way back up, gasping for a much needed gulp of air as soon as you reached the surface.
Peeking around you, trying to find something to get a hold of or climb on, exhaustion was crawling up to your limbs, like hypothermia.
Fuck
Mind cursed with every foul word you could've imagine. How did trip ended up like this? In what moment the clouds turned so grey they darkened the sky, announcing a downpour with a loud rumble? It all took minutes to go sour and south.
You were there to do a land recognition, and see if you could get home some new species. Sergei Kravinoff, or Kraven The Hunter, was the lead of your expedition, all financed by a man named Kingpin.
Your name was called, echoed in the distance.
"Over here!!" You flailed your arms in an attempt of being seen, and hopefully the debris wouldn't blear their sight to find you.
You swam in the direction of the voice, teeth clattered, tool belt heavy on your hips, but you knew if you lost them, any possible chance of getting another were impossible. Plus, Kraven hated it when you lost your equipment as they weren't cheap.
Every paddle of your arms felt heavier, like if your wrists had been tied up with iron pounds, dragging you down. Lips turned blue and trembled. Salty and cold water doused you, but you weren't to give up.
You had fought your way to get a spot in this expedition and a pathetic ending like drowning wasn't an option. You spotted a wooden board floating nearby.
C'mon!
Your hands stretched towards it anf finally managed to keep yourself afloat. Panting, groaning and shivering, letting the cold to finally sink in. Feet had started to numb out, ragged breaths turned laborious.
Once more someone called you, this time you recognised the voice. Peter, the other nerd according to Kraven. You two were the ones selected to be the scientist that would lead Kraven to a certain victory in Nueva York.
Ever since Norman Osborn and Otto Octavius had discovered new species of spiders and reptiles, everyone proclaimed them geniuses ahead of their time, leaving the hunting behind.
Kraven was set into getting either a new species or something alike to regain his forlorn glory. He refused to be forgotten.
But everything pointed that the island you were now had a mind of its own. As if preventing anyone to delve in further into it's secrets.
You were pulled out from the board by Peter that immediately covered you up in a raggedy blanket. Despite the fabric being old, it gave you enough warmth to avoid death taking a hold on you.
Kraven cursed in russian, but was hopeful y'all be found soon. The ship's black box was ruined, your luggage at least was minimal, and it was enough to be saved by ether Peter or anyone kind enough.
A powerful and enormous wave had turned the boat upside-down. Knocking everything loose out of the board. The guns and other tools were the only things that survived.
But, you hoped, the whole fiasco was just temporary. Fisk wasn't a careless man, he'd probably send help soon. You closed your eyes for a moment, letting your bones to freeze.
----
You woke up nearby the makeshift fireplace, relishing the heat your body had lacked. Clothes were humid, but no longer soaked and freezing.
Sighing, you stirred awake, letting the tension leave your body with a groan.
"Hey, wake up." Peter approached, concern etched into his features as he helped you on your feet.
"Where's everyone?"
"I... We uh, got lost. One moment Kraven is here and the other he's not. Left us behind. Or, he also got lost."
"Kraven? Lost?" Peter could sense the deadpan in your voice and he sighed, exasperated.
"I'm just trying to light up the mood. He was pissed. So I assume that he just thought he'd do it himself." He shrugged and you sighed, rubbing your neck.
"Great! now we're lost, my luggage is nowhere to be found but at least we have tools, right?"
The faltering in Peter's face made yours to fall as he shook his head.
"God, I swear... Fuck him. If I'm discovering something, Ain't sharing with him!"
"Let's focus on surviving first. The soil is rich, meaning the jungle is nearby."
"And so is the wild life." You sighed and Peter groaned.
"Look, thinking negatively won't take us anywhere. I'm not saying either let's throw a party for being stuck in an unknown place. But we gotta move. It's about to get dark."
"Right... You're right" You rubbed your face, exhausted, at least you weren't freezing anymore. But being at Nature's mercy wasn't pretty either, yet again. You were selected by none other than Sergei. If he trusted your judgement to be valuable enough, why couldn't you?
With a new resolution in mind, you took the raggedy blanket and other little tools Peter managed to salvage and soon ventured yourselves in the thickness of the jungle.
-----
Sun had long disappeared in the sky leaving a faint trail of golden and orange in the clouds, and you were certain that it had been hours since you walked in the jungle. No signs of Kraven or the caravan of people.
No signs of society or at least his stupid russian jokes that you were sure people laughed at by sheer convenience.
The only advantage Kraven possessed in his favor, was him being an avid hunter. You only studied species, animals and flowers to be more precise, and had a little knowledge of mechanics. Enough to fix your own machines and trinkets. Peter was an expert in mechanics and soil. You followed him.
"I think I've seen that rock before" Peter sighed as he slouched against a tree.
"Don't say that, Parker." You wheezed as you followed him, resting your aching back against him. "I'm definitely finding some poison and put it on Kraven's drink."
"Relax. Without us he's going into unknown territory."
"In case you haven't noticed, he's a professional hunter. And I hate with passion skirts."
The distant rumble of a storm approaching echoed through the sky.
"A hunter, not a geologist. He acts like an animal to get animal bodies."
"Still, he knows his way around these places, Pete."
"Shooting things till they're dead isn't knowing about things"
Peter stood and offered his hand.
"Uh-uh I just sat down."
"We gotta at least go upwards. This area is prone to flooding."
With a vexed groan you took Peter's hand and he pulled you up. You were tired of walking, but if he said you needed to advance, you obeyed.
"Fuck..."
----
Despite the soaking rain pouring around you, Peter had found an amalgamation of trees and branches supported by a hollow tree.
Birds chirped and cawed, bugs joined the concert once the rain subsided, the distant flapping of the birds and the rustle of leafs prevented you from lowering your guard. The only comforting thing besides Peter's company was the petrichor smell, pungent in the air.
You'd spend hours inhaling the gift of nature, if it wasn't for your belly grumbling, and Peter had ran out of cashews.
Even crickets sounded tempting to eat. With the right spices, they tasted crunchy. But all you could do was to imagine their taste as it was time to move again.
"Knowing Kraven, he'd go up to the mountains, probably they've sent a camp nearby a river. So let's look for one."
"Yeah, even better so I can drown that fucker in. He better pay us good for this stupid prank."
Peter chuckled and looked around for a minute, his blue eyes narrowed upon setting his sight in a tree trunk. Broken in half, but what truly made his... whatever this unpleasant feeling to rise within was the vicious marks indented on the tree bark.
Powerful scratches filled with bloody chum and crimson liquid, paw like marks painted in the trunk. The source of such gruesome spectacle laid in whatever pieces was left a couple of inches away.  He could make out a tail, and small hind legs. A baby monkey, or rather half of it.
"Uh... We better hurry."
Peter swallowed, and the urgency in his tone only made your worry to shoot heavenwards.
You both walked, speeding up the step. Unaware of the keen eyes, hidden in the bushes that followed your every moves like a hawk. A low growl filled in the space he occupied.
---
You were certainly to die.
Undeniably, and it didn't matter how fast you managed to run, the jaguar quick paced trotting had you pushing your limits. Tears blurred your sight, as a garbled sob escaped your lips.
Scratches adorned your arms, decorating your flesh with fresh oozing wounds, dirt and leafs stuck to your marred flesh.
Chest heaved with deep and ragged pants, wobbly legs menaced to give in under the pressure at any second
You were going to die.
Even though life had been incredibly dull and the only comfort was your investigation, you didn't want it to end so soon. Not whenyou were about to accomplish a promise to yourself.
Peter had gone lost and separated once the chase began. One minute he was before you, and the other, your friend was gone, out of sight and reach. But the relentless giant feline behind you preferred you. An easy prey.
Your wails and cries for help fell upon deaf ears, who would listen to you in the middle of the jungle? For once you wished to have Kraven's gun expertise.
You didn't care if hypocrite defined you right now. You took a thick branch, swinging it with difficulty and pain at the euphoric beast, like a demotivated baseball player. But the jaguar's claws swatted the useless weapon away from your hands, and making you stumble on the ground.
This was it.
Oh God, oh my god, no, no no
The animal pounced and by instinct, you shielded your body with your shaky limbs. But no harm came.
You could feel the beast's warm and bloodthirsty breath on your head, snapping it's maws at you, desperately trying to reach for a bite of your supple flesh.
Eyes wide in horror, and disbelief. The jaguar was held by his tail, earning whoever that was holding it back from devouring you a couple of swings with it's sharp claws. But the animal was set into getting to you. It pounced on your boots, claws sinking on the back of hour ankles, earning a sobbing and painful wail.
A gruesome crack and a roar echoed behind you, and only then you were able to see your savior.
The tallest man you've ever seen, even taller than Kraven, strong and well built physique, a rich tanned skin full of scratches and long healed wounds. Hair long, reaching a bit past his shoulders, muscles that heaved and rippled in every breathing you did. Body hair etched beautifully in his skin.
Covered in nothing but a loincloth.
If it wasn't for you being at the death's gates, you'd take your time to study him.
You gasped as he held the oversized cat with his hands and slammed it on the ground. They circled eachother, shifting between the roles of hunter and prey.
The feline hissed, and the man returned the threat, a cold sweat ran down your spine upon watching two overgrown canines, on his mouth. Fangs. He had fangs. Brown eyes stared at the four legged monster, defying it.
And soon the jaguar took his invitation. The two majestic creatures fought, enraged, proving their prowess to eachother, disputing the role of Alpha within the jungle's hierarchy. They rolled on the ground, biting and clawing at eachother.
With a lurid snap the man cracked the beast's neck, earning an agonizing wail from the mean cat. He staggered before slamming his fist on the animal, forcing the last breaths out of the beast.
His nose flared, proudly, while his hands slammed his chest.
Terror was still taking a hold of you, and there was nothing you could use as a weapon. Your hands braced your shoulder as you tried to carefully stand, but your clumsy feet stepped in a branch, snapping it in half, like the jaguar's neck. Brown eyes were immediately on you.
You swallowed hard.
He approached, hunched and prowling over, his knuckles and toes supported his hulking frame.
"S-Stop!"
He quirked an eyebrow, curious and within seconds he was before you.
Breath hitched on your throat, face so close to yours, he could feel your breath blowing on his chin.
You hissed as he took a hold of your arm, examining the damage. There wasn't rage in his features but nothing more than untampered curiosity.
His hands reached for your hair, sniffing the strands, you couldn't help but giggle when his nose hovered over your head, sniffing you, a bad moment to be ticklish, really.
Breath caught again as his nose nuzzled your neck.
"W-Wai-" His fingers prodded at your lips, rubbing the calloused thumbs on your soft mouth. A satisfied grunt rumbled in his firm and hairy chest
He toyed with your face, examining it with child like wonder. He turned, prodded and licked your cheeks, reminiscing in your taste with a confused look.
"U-uh, sir-"
What is he doing? oh god.
He hunched even closer to rest his ear on your chest. Heart pumping violently inside your ribcage, eyes darted towards the covered mounds, he sank his face in between them, taking a deep inhale. A low growl came from within and your cheeks flared in a deep flush.
Oh shit, shit
His hands cupped your mounds, sending a shiver through your body, but you slapped his hand away. He looked taken aback before baring his teeth to you.
"No!" You covered your chest and backed away, but his nose flared to then grab your head and placed it on his chest a tad forcefully. Warm and plush skin met yours. You gulped again.
Powerful echoes boomed through his chest.
The natural musk of him tickled your senses, his hands roamed your lower back and your alarms flared.
"H-hey, hey!"
He pulled your feet up, sending you tumbling backward, skirt rolling down your thighs, exposing your legs to him.
You tried to cover your skin by gathering your skirt up. His nose again sniffled as your wriggled underneath him. Hands prodding and picking at your toes, earning a clumsy giggle
His touch was like molten lava, it sent a shudder down your spine.
His fingers were having a good feel of your flesh, as if confirming you were real.
With each discovery his interest only grew. He then cupped your face again, smooshing your cheeks together, giving a deliberate lick on your lips.
"T-The polite thing to do is to take me out before that happens!" You mumbled nervously while trying to get yourself free.
His eyes narrowed once more as he lifted up your skirt completely, revealing your panties.
It gave you little to no time to prepare you for his next move. He sunk his face in between your thighs taking a good whiff of your scent, another pleasant growl came from him, by reflex, your hand slapped him. And this made him look at you, confused but clearly upset while holding his cheek.
"No! Stop it!" You warned while gathering your skirt underneath your knees and pointing at him. Cheeks impossibly red
He seemed to understand as he crouched before you. Muscular thighs flexing as he sat, mimicking your actions.
"Uh, uh. No. Don't do that"
"Uh Uh, No. Don't do that"
He repeated with the same authoritarian tone. Voice surprisingly rich and alluring. Your eyes went wide.
"You can speak!"
He repeated like a parrot.
"Can... Can you understand me?"
His brows furrowed then quirked. He was about to come up with a reply when the rustling and your name being called echoed behind the foliage.
"Over here!!!" You shouted, this alarmed the man as he stood, backing up from you with a mistrustful glare.
"Wait! No no! Don't go!" Your hands wriggled, but it was futile.
He left before anyone could see him. Climbing the trees like it was another playground game, until he disappeared out of sight.
None other than Kraven showed up, machete on hand, swinging it the weeds and plants that dared to cross his way.
A shit eating smirk plastered on his face.
"See? I told you, she'd be fine." Kraven patted Peter's shoulder as they kept moving to find a perfect spot for the camp.
Kraven crouched to where the jaguar's body laid and looked at you.
"What happened?"
"I... don't know. I-I panicked. Was running from a snake and I found that there."
Sergei just hummed, as he watched the body, eyes raking the feline's carcass before beckoning two of his men closer.
"Skin him. Don't have this type yet."
Kraven took a deep inhale. Death's stench sparking alive the hunter in him.
"Whatever killed it, needs to be in my personal collection of trophies."
Peter in the meantime cleansed your wounds with water, to then apply some clean bandages on them.
The whole group moved, upwards to the mountains.
"What the heck happened!?" he whispered aggressively
You made sure for Kraven to be within a reasonable distance to speak again.
"You won't believe me if I'd tell you."
Cause in truth, how would you explain a man, taller than Sergei, killed with his bare hands a wild animal and got way too touchy with you but is able to speak?
The road was long. You had time
Peter sensed your discomfort and pressed no further. However, the feeling of being watched never waned. It was the group, against the jungle's secrets.
----
Taglist:
@fayeofthenightingale
929 notes · View notes
sixosix · 3 months
Note
hello six! since you put it on your example, can I request izuku, a charger, but fluff? :3 congrats on 5k!
a/n 1k words !!! anon sent this back in march…its now july… thank you so much anon! sorry i got to this late
5K EVENT SPECIAL | EVENT MASTERLIST
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"Seriously? None of you have one? Not even you, Denki?"
Kaminari inspects your phone from all angles, humming. He eyes your charging port distrustfully. "No? What even is this?"
You bury your knuckle on his head. "Dipshit. It's a phone. A phone that's about to die because you fried my charger trying to blow your hair this morning."
Kaminari winces. "Oohh..."
"Hey." Ashido claps a hand on your shoulder, sympathetic. "I'm sorry, but that idiot's right, ya'know? This model is outdated."
Bakugou is about to walk past when he plucks the phone from your grasp and then studies it intently. His eyes narrow.
You beam up at him, hopeful. "Do you have one, Bakugou?"
He throws it back at you, and you fumble to catch it. "Nah. Deku's got the same one, though. The nerd will let you borrow one."
And then he leaves, just like that. You're not sure if you should yell at him for risking your phone or kiss him on the cheek for presenting a ray of hope that came in the form of Midoriya Izuku.
Ashido's eyes turn sly. "Oh? Midoriya, huh? Looks like you'll have to..."
You slap a hand over her mouth. Kaminari perks up, his expression a visible representation of his brain lagging behind.
"Hafta what?" he asks in a whisper.
"Nothing!" you squeak out before Ashido could say anything. "Nothing at all. Mina, you're acting weird. I'm just gonna borrow a charger from my classmate. What's so strange about that? Nothing at all."
Ashido giggles. "Right, right. Make sure you don't stay longer than three minutes, or else I'll just assume you're stealing a ki—"
"God! Seriously. My phone's about to die! I should go now. Bye, Denki. I hate you, Mina."
You pad away, phone clutched in a death grip as Ashido's laughter echoes in the hallway. Of course. Of course, Midoriya would be the only one in the class with the same charger as you because that makes sense. Your long-term crush would be the only person, obviously. Right. Duh.
You have a suspicion that Bakugou is aware of this crush of yours, and Midoriya isn't the only one who has the same type of charger, but you'd rather take Midoriya than--god forbid--Mineta. Bakugou can play Cupid if he wants.
You knock softly. "Midoriya?"
Once, twice, and the door swings open right away halfway through the third one. You and Midoriya stare at each other for a startled moment. Midoriya gapes, mouth dropping open almost comically.
"Y/N!" he exclaims.
"Hi," you mutter. "Sorry, did I disturb you?"
Midoriya glances back at his room. You follow his gaze, falling on his desk with a single lamp lighting the room, directed at notebooks and pens spread about. He must've been studying.
Midoriya turns back to you with a soft smile. "No, don't worry. Did you need something?"
"Oh, yeah." You show him your phone, wishing to every deity out there that he doesn't notice how your hands are trembling. "Denki fried my charger, and my phone's about to die. Do you have one for this model?"
Midoriya's fingers brush your skin as he takes your phone to inspect it himself. You thank All Might and his mother that Midoriya's too busy with your phone to notice that you're steaming, positively overwhelmed by this proximity. You've never been close to Midoriya like this before. He smells like freshly pulled laundry, his warmth emanating even at this distance. You find yourself gravitating, inching slightly closer.
Midoriya looks back up again. Your noses nearly touch. You both jump back.
"Sorry!" you both cry out. 
"Um." Midoriya's face is beet red. "I do have the same model."
You knew that, obviously. You move to reach for your phone, eager to leave before you do anything else stupid and embarrass yourself further. "Thanks a lot, Midoriya. You're heaven-sent."
But Midoriya rears back. "Would you like to come inside?"
...What?
Midoriya wilts. "I—I mean, unless you want to charge in your own room, I was just— Well, that makes more sense, actually. Nevermind. Forget I—"
You brush past Midoriya, saying, "Sorry for the intrusion!"
As your eyes take in the alarming cluster of All Might merchandise, you belatedly register the door clicking shut behind you. Midoriya bounds over to his bed, pulling out his charger. He makes a show of plugging it into your phone and displaying how your phone brightens.
"Thank you, Midoriya." You sigh and cradle your now-charging phone in your arms, like handling a wounded child. "I might have to go out later to buy a new one so I don't bother you again."
Midoriya laughs, settling back on his chair, but he faces you. "I don't mind, really. You can visit here anytime."
You don't see why you must 'visit anytime' when you can bring his charger to your room, but you wouldn't want to overstep when he's already lending you his things. And there's really no downside to it aside from your impending doom of humiliation; you wouldn't take down the offer of rooming alone with your crush. Not when he smells so nice, and he’s giving his undivided attention to you.
"So..." You set your phone aside. "Is that Preset Mic's seatwork?"
Midoriya glances over his shoulder, smiling sheepishly. "Yeah. I wanted to finish everything today."
"Do you mind teaching me?" you blurt out.
Midoriya blinks owlishly.
"I-If you want, I mean! I'll pay you back or something—"
Midoriya slides his chair closer to where you're sitting, beaming. "Sure. While your phone charges."
"Yeah," you say faintly. "Yeah. While my phone charges."
You stumble into Bakugou on your way out of Midoriya’s room, giddy and floaty, like Uraraka’s touched you with all ten fingers and left you to rot in space. You muffle a squeal as soon as the door’s shut. Bakugou arches a suspicious brow, looking at you up and down like you’ve done something particularly scandalous.
“What?” you ask defensively.
Bakugou huffs, smirking. “You took your sweet time there.”
“He offered for me to stay while I waited for my phone to charge.” And then you stick your tongue out for good measure.
“As if. Deku uses a faster charger. Your phone should’ve been done five hours ago, dumbass.”
328 notes · View notes
noyasmashing · 6 months
Note
hellooo, i don't know if you do requests but ive been REALLY wanting to see this fiction come to life:
frat boy suna x nerd reader. they meet at a frat party when reader joins the blunt rotation going on. as things progress, suna enexpectedly gets the best sex he's ever had after being ridden on by the reader for the first time.
me oh my, this idea has me foaming at the mouth, thank you for the request ;3
Dom!reader x Sub! Suna
CW: p in v sex, unprotected sex, smoking and alcohol, degrading (slut is used a lot), cream pie, nudes?? (reader takes a pic of suna at the end)
The bass thumped through the air, mingling with the buzz of voices and laughter. Amidst the lively crowd, you stood slightly out of place, clutching your drink and feeling a bit overwhelmed by the pulsating energy around you. As a dedicated nerd and bookworm, social gatherings like this were definitely outside your comfort zone.
You watched from a distance as a group of slightly familiar college kids passed around a joint, their laughter echoing over the music. One of your many tipsy friends giggled noticing your stare. Firmly gripping your wrist as a smile tugged at her lips, “You want a hit?” She asked playfully, forcing to two of you to the small group gathered by the sofa.
“Heyyy, do you guys mind if we join?” She asked without a hint of nervousness, while you stood there, rather awkwardly.
One of the well known Miya twins immediately began flirting with your friend making you scoff. Looking at the sea of faces, one of the guys, with a mop of dark hair who you could have sworn was on the volleyball team caught your eye.
"Come on, [Name], loosen up and take a puff!" your friend encouraged, nudging you forward. Taking the half-smoked roll into your hand and feeling its warmth, you gently pressed it to your lips and sucked in.
After inhaling deeply, you briefly shut your eyes to savor the drugs effects before reopening them to meet those familiar yellow ones through your lengthy lashes. After passing the joint to the random person next to you, Suna spoke up in his usual monotone voice.
"I haven't seen you around before. You new here?" His eyes held a hint of curiosity as he glanced at you. You shook your head,
"Nah, I'm just don’t see the fun in parties," you replied, a smile forming on your lips, but it's not the usual grin Suna witnesses on the faces of the girls he typically charms. It's the type of smile he recognizes on the court, one that spells trouble.
"I'm Suna. And who might you be, baby?" he introduced himself, switching to his typical flirty voice - the one he reserves for girls. It's a tone that never fails to drive them wild and have them begging for him to fuck them in a matter of seconds.
But you, you couldn’t help rolling your eyes at his rather forward question, tipping your head back to finish off your drink before wandering off, hopefully to find something better to do.
You glanced over to see your friend practically making out with Osamu, already feeling ready to head home since you had plenty of homework to finish. As you put on your jacket and headed towards the door, you suddenly came face to face with the familiar dark-haired boy.
"Ready to leave, baby?" he asked, his well-built figure leaning towards you. You couldn't help but let out a laugh, a faint blush appearing on his handsome face.
"Why would I ever let you near me with that over used, excuse for a dick? I have no interest in dirty, worthless sluts like you."
"What did you just call me?" However, his reply lacked any form of retaliation. In fact, he sounded rather turned on.
You flash that menacing smile once more, leaning in closer so he could catch a whiff of your strawberry perfume. Slowly and deliberately, you repeat your words to him,
"Dirty. Worthless. Slut."
You tried to blame it on the weed, you really did, but you knew one hit couldn't have caused this. You found yourself sitting on his meaty thighs, his sweaty palms gripping your waist tightly.
Your lips crashed against his, his tongue exploring your mouth eagerly. Breaking away for a moment, he panted heavily while you smirked down at him.
"You're such a slut, Rin. Are you really going to hook up with someone you just met?" You scolded seductively. The heat in the room seemed to swell, making the atmosphere even more charged.
Despite your harsh words, Suna's body reacted to your degradation, thrusting up for more friction. He had been with countless women before, he watched squirm on his cock, and it bored him. He wanted something more, you were a challenge he couldn't resist.
You laughed at his pitiful state as he whispered, "I want to fuck you so badly." He couldn’t resist the embarrassment, hiding in the crook of your neck, his breath sending shivers down your spine.
"Maybe I'll let inside me if you're lucky," you teased, feeling his cock throb against you in response. But he wasn't about to give in so easily.
"Your the one who wanted to sit on top of me!" he argued, pulling away to meet your intense gaze. His brash words causing you to clench around nothing.
"Shut up, slut. Good boys don't speak unless I say so, got it?"
Your hands moved to his belt, unbuckling it and unzipping his baggy jeans. You could feel Suna's hips twitch as your hand brushed over his hard erection through his boxer briefs. He knew he must look pathetic, his cock eager and leaking precum, but he was finally turned on for the first time in awhile, and at the mere words you spoke.
Without even bothering to remove your skirt, you pushed your soaking wet panties to the side, ready to take his aching member inside you.
"Wait," he stammered, looking up at your half-lidded, seductive gaze that intensified his desire. "Don't we need..."
Instead of allowing him to finish, you lowered yourself onto his throbbing shaft, causing him to throw his head back with a moan. You attempted to laugh, but it emerged mostly as heavy pants of pleasure.
"Hmm. I don’t know you would worry about that sort of thing, I’m on birth control." you reassured him, though it diminished him slightly. Despite this, he couldn't help but thrust into you eagerly.
You mocked his helpless state, lifting your hips before swiftly driving them back down, fully engulfing him inside you.
"Aww, my little slut, you're getting excited, aren't you?" you taunted, maintaining your aggressive rhythm, which left his knuckles white and the tops of his ears red. He had never imagined his body would respond so intensely to something so humiliating. Yet here he was, already on the brink of climax.
"Y-yours?" he questioned at the possessive nickname, struggling to hold back his pitiful whines.
"That really does turn you on. I can feel you pulsing inside me," you replied, feeling his cock brushing against your tight walls, eliciting moans from both of you.
You placed your hands on his shoulders firmly, gaining more leverage to bounce up and down rapidly.
His face displayed intense pleasure, with half-lidded eyes, an open mouth filled with drool, staring up at you desperately.
Suna's heart raced so fast that he felt lightheaded. His back arched off the bed as waves of pleasure continued to crash over him.
"Let me come inside you, please. I-I want to fill you up," he desperately begged, his voice cracking with shameless desire.
"Alright, whore, I'll spoil you today, but don't get used to it," you coo’d, coaxing his orgasm out with steady, harsh thrusts that had him moaning loudly, oblivious to the people in the next dorm trying to sleep. He was too far gone to care, the sensation of filling you up while being degraded overwhelming him. Tears threatened to fall from his lashes as he whimpered even more.
You, too, felt the coil of pleasure unwind as you rode his trembling cock, releasing sharp grunts atop him.
You let him stay inside you as he recovered from the intense pleasure that overwhelmed him. Quickly you reached for his phone on the bedside table while his eyes remained closed, unaware of your actions. But the flash of his camera made those pretty eyes snap open in surprise as you captured a breathtaking photo of the scene before you.
“Send that to me, kay?”
Maybe parties weren't so bad after all, especially when they ended like this.
412 notes · View notes
turtletaubwrites · 8 months
Text
A Good Catch ~ Part 1
✨600 Followers Fic Celebration!✨
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I am so grateful for all of you! This has been such a wonderful time, and having all of you around to nerd out with, and to share my writing with is the best! Shanks won the poll for the next x Reader fic, and I hope you enjoy it!
Pairings: Shanks x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 4367
Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 (End)
Ao3 Link
Summary: You are an unlucky fisherwoman having a bad day, until a red haired pirate captain offers to help you out. You're pretty sure he only makes it worse.
Rating/Warnings: 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Angst, Teasing, Flirting, I feel like there's some romance tropes I could tag, but I usually just write smut, so please let me know what silly tropes I have in here 😅
A/N: I am having so much fun with this one! I'm doing my best to keep it to 3 parts, so wish me luck 😅 Please enjoy this fluffy first chapter!
| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |
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“Now I’m gonna get murdered by pirates,” you grumbled to yourself as the ship crept ever closer. “Just fucking perfect.”
The windless sea was no challenge for the massive pirate ship. All you could do was sit with your pile of fish, jealous of the huge oars guiding the threat to you. 
Dread loomed as that jolly roger closed the distance, like an animal baring its fangs before it strikes. Crossed blades, and a sinister skull with red stripes over its left eye socket. 
You didn’t pay enough attention to the gossip and wanted posters to remember who was headed your way. 
Not that it matters. They’re pirates. 
It was too much to hope that they’d pass you by. 
A few voices carried over from the deck, until a tall man leaned over the side. His bright, red hair hung still against this stupidly windless sky. 
“Hey, friend,” he called, the sun at your back giving you a glimpse of his wide smile, even from so high above you. 
“We’re not friends,” you countered, crossing your arms to keep him from noticing your shaky hands. 
“I suppose not. You seem like you’re in a spot of trouble though, and we’re happy to help.”
His deep voice sounded so friendly. Genuine. Charming. 
He’s just trying to lure me into his trap. Who knows what they’d do to me on that ship…
“The sun’s getting pretty low for a small boat to be all the way out here,” he judged, trying to block the glare as he looked down at you. “I don’t think we’ll be getting much more wind today.”
“Thank you, I’ll be fine.”
His pause made your skin itch, wishing he would stop looking at you. 
“We can bring your boat with us. I’m assuming you’re from that village a ways to the west?”
It must have been a trick of your eyes, it couldn’t happen so quickly. But you swore the day inched closer to night faster with every second. You watched the light grow golden as it lit up the red haired man, and his pirate ship.
Fuck.
“I refuse to be rescued,” you choked out, nails digging into your arms. 
“Okay,” he said in an annoyingly teasing tone, “if you insi–”
“I’ll pay you for the service! I had a great haul before…”
“Sounds good to me,” he laughed, deep and hearty. As if he were truly happy. 
You had thought pirates would seem scarier. Maybe this is worse.
You barely heard his shouts  as men started to lower ropes down, prepping to save you. 
“You should know I’m armed,” you yelled up at the back of his head, continuing when he faced you again. “Anyone touches me, and they’ll lose a hand.”
“I’ll be on my guard then. I’ve been running out of those.”
You didn’t understand, or appreciate his teasing while you waited. 
~
“Welcome aboard!”
Pirates echoed the red haired man’s welcome, and you assumed he was the captain as the rest busied themselves about. He sat on deck, calm as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Now that you were so close, you couldn’t help but notice the rippled muscles of his chest and stomach between his mostly open shirt. 
Besides the cloak over his shoulders, he didn’t seem to wear anything that could mark him as captain. Unless his red hair, and three scars over his left eye… 
“Oh.”
“Oh,” he asked, moving to stand beside you. 
“The jolly roger,” you pointed to the menacing skull. “You must be the captain.”
“Good eye,” he leaned in with a smile. 
His smile should have a completely different word. The sight from your boat was nothing compared to seeing the way this man's lips curled slowly, the left side starting first as it grew, as if he was enjoying the act of smiling itself. And his eyes…
His eyes were way too close to you. 
“Are you alright?”
Concern broke that smile, and he called for someone to bring water. 
Your face flushed, hot to the tips of your ears. You realized that you hadn’t heard what the pirate had said because you were too busy swooning over his pretty eyes. 
The water was welcome, and you gulped half of it down, suddenly embarrassed about how fucking fishy you must smell with your day’s catch beside you. 
“Is there anything else you need, miss…”
Trying to catch your eyes, the pirate leaned toward you. He reached for your shoulder, and you jumped back, spilling water down your chest.
“I’m so sorry, love. I forgot about your warning.”
His soothing voice felt real as he went to a knee in front of you. 
“I do hope you will spare me my fate, I swear that no one on this boat will forget it again.”
He’s really too charming. He’s either the sweetest person in the world, or some sort of demon with powers of seduction. 
You nodded. It wasn’t like you could truly defend yourself anyway. The fear of being at their mercy kept you hyper aware of all the moving bodies around you.
“How long until we’re at the village?”
The sun was almost gone from the sky now, and you just wanted to be home. To scrub this stupid day away, and pass out. 
“It should be about three days from now.”
“Three,” you choked out, dropping the now empty mug of water, which he caught without taking his eyes off of yours.
“We’ve got some business on the other side of the island. We'll be stopping by the village to restock supplies before we head out.”
“You didn’t tell me that,” you snapped, voice louder than you meant it.
He just smirked, tilting his head.
“Sorry, love. Would you like us to toss you overboard? I don’t think you had many rescuers lined up.”
For some reason, you couldn’t get your mouth to remember that these men could kill you as you growled back at him.
“You didn’t rescue me. I paid you for a trip back to the village.”
His lips quirked as if he was fighting not to smile again. He looked down at your haul, fish still flapping in the net. 
“That is a really nice haul, miss. Afraid it’s not enough for a direct trip, though.”
Pirates came to take your fish away, and it broke the spell his irritating eyes had on you.
“Please, save this one! You can have it, just… Make sure you cook it well.”
The two men with the net followed your gesture to that fish, assuring you they would obey before taking it away.
“Why’s that one special?”
The weight of this long ass day hit you, a heavy sigh leaving your lips before you looked back at that pretty captain. 
“It was a good catch.”
He huffed a laugh, the clear amusement he got from your words making you simultaneously annoyed, and pleased. You were mentally smacking yourself for that. 
Don’t be attracted to pirates, dumbass. 
“I’m Shanks. I don’t know if you heard me before, but…”
Your skin flushed again, and he seemed to notice, a warm, evil smile slowly forming on his lips.
“What’s your name?”
“You don’t need to know it.”
He gave a real laugh then, loud, and infectious. You had to remind yourself that he was laughing at you.
“What would you like us to call you then, huh? “Fish Girl?” Maybe “Fail Boat?” Or how about “Damsel in Distress?” I think I like that–”
You ripped your hand back as soon as you’d realized what you’d done.
But it was too late.
Your idiotic, suicidal hand had shot out and smacked him, hard, right in the center of that gorgeous chest of his.
The deck roared with laughter while you shook with horror. Shanks had looked down at his chest, and when he lifted his face to yours he looked stunned. If you hadn’t just signed your own death warrant, you might have thought his face comical, brows raised high, with his mouth and eyes wide. 
“Go easy on the girl, captain,” teased a tall man with gray hair, shaking his head at Shanks.
“Yeah, come on, captain! What kinda hospitality are you giving, insulting our guest like that?”
A whole group of pirates crowded around him, reprimanding him, and giving him a few gentle punches and shoves. 
Your mouth hung open. The sight of these pirates being so playfully disrespectful toward their captain didn’t fit in your brain. None of this made sense with what pirates were supposed to be like. 
“Fine. Fine! I’m sorry, miss…”
He’d broken away from his men, leaning toward you with that question. 
“Y/N.”
He hit you with a new grin to outshine all the others, making your breath hitch.
“What a beautiful name for a damsel in distress.”
You didn’t need to hit him this time, as pirates did the job for you, even throwing things at him from across the deck. 
Maybe it was the overwhelm, the fatigue. Maybe you’d gone insane.
But laughter built in your stomach, growing through your body, until you were shaking with it. You had your hands on your knees as it took you over, and the pirates around you joined in. 
How can pirates be laughing and smiling like this with me? How can it be genuine? 
Amidst the continued roars of his men, Shanks shook his head, gesturing for you to follow him. 
“Where are we going?”
“I’ll show you.”
Frowning at the back of his head, you followed through the wooden halls until he opened a large door, gesturing for you to go inside.
He rolled his eyes when you hesitated, before going in first. 
The large room was tiled, with lockers and showers, and there he stood in the center, grinning like a creep.
“I’ll pass,” you deadpanned, backing out the door.
“Come on, fish girl,” he taunted, “you stink, and I think you’ll be easier to clean than the blankets you’ll sleep in tonight.”
Blood rushing to your face again, your mouth opened and closed as anger and embarrassment fought to take over.
Shanks laughed again, but tried to stifle it. 
“Sorry, you’re just,” he motioned to his lips, mimicking your movements. “You’re a fish girl.”
“Shut up,” you seethed, leaning toward him. “I’m not taking a shower on a pirate ship when anyone can–”
“I’ll guard the door for you, okay,” he assured, finally seeming to take something seriously. “I’ll make sure no one comes in.”
Now his stupid smile was soft, small, and sweet. You hated it.
“Oh right,” you scoffed, “like I'd trust a pirate captain. Who’s gonna stop you from coming in?”
“What makes you think this pirate captain would even want to come in here, huh?”
“Fuck you,” you breathed, turning to leave.
He was so fast. You jumped back as he blocked the door. He saw your wide eyes, and moved out of the doorway so he wouldn’t block your exit, but he still leaned close.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. Really, okay? I promise I will sit right outside this door, and not let a single person come inside until you’re done. There’s fresh clothes for you over there too. Whatever you need.”
A very fine trembling worked its way around your body as you studied him. It seemed like such a bad idea to trust him. 
But you were exhausted. 
“You’ll sit in front of the door?”
He straightened up, a look of relief brightening that serious face.
“I will.”
“Will you wear a blindfold?”
“If that’s what it takes,” he agreed with a smirk.
“And let me tie your hands behind your back?”
Shanks sucked his teeth as he leaned back. You had a second of fear as he started taking his clothes off.
But all he removed was his heavy cloak, revealing that he was missing his left arm. 
Guilt hit you, apologies about to pour out, but he held his palm out. 
“Afraid I can’t do that, but I promise I’ll do the rest. Is that alright, Y/N?”
~
This is really nice soap.
Still on edge, your body started to relax a bit with the delicious smelling soap on your skin. 
But every time you felt a moment of relaxation, you’d remember the pirate on the other side of the door. 
“You’ve gotta make it tighter, sweetie. Otherwise it won’t work.”
That fucking sentence kept tearing through your brain. The way he’d run his fingers across yours while you adjusted the cloth to blindfold him. The way his hair and skin had felt and smelled as you moved it into place. The way he’d rasped those words while he grabbed your wrist to guide you, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting his fingers trail down your skin. 
The way you had let him touch you without arguing. His fingers had taken advantage of the moment, but it had felt almost electric to let him.
“Fuck,” you muttered to yourself.
“Y/N, is everything alright?”
“Uh, yeah. Thank you.”
How did he hear that over the shower?
~
“What the hell is this?”
“Sorry, love, I'm afraid I can't see what you– ow, hold on!”
You definitely had a few red hairs between your fingers after ripping his blindfold off. 
The pirate captain got to his feet to meet your eyes, and fucking snorted.
“What is wrong with you,” you fumed, tossing the blindfold at his face.
The fact that he caught it before it hit him only pissed you off more.
“There has to be something else I can wear,” you demanded, pulling at the frilly lavender dress he stuck you with. You looked like some creepy porcelain doll.
His face was going as red as his hair as he tried not to laugh.
“I’m sorry, no one’s– we don’t have anyone your size,” he choked out, clearing his throat before continuing. “We have a few more dresses like this, though. They were supposed to be a gift for a princess, so you should feel honored!”
“Fuck you.”
His lips were fucking quivering as he fought his laughter. His eyes flicked down to your clenched fists, and he relented.
“Right, sorry, okay! You can have some of my clothes, you’ll just have to roll them up, alright?”
Very judgmentally looking him up and down, you raised your brows at him.
“Do you have any shirts that actually button up all the way? Or do you expect me to let my tits hang out like yours.”
Shanks cackled then, catching himself on the wall, his eyes even tearing up a little. 
You kicked yourself for saying something so sexual in front of a fucking pirate.
“You’re a funny one, fish girl,” he teased between hiccupped laughs, “but you definitely look like a damsel in that dress.”
You kicked the pirate for being such a dick. 
“Fuck, sorry,” he huffed, wincing as he rubbed his shin where you’d kicked it. 
“Follow me. I definitely wanna get you outta that dress– I mean into different clothes,” he almost yelled, warding off a slap with his arm. “So you stop hurting me!”
Practically boiling with a mix of anger, embarrassment, and fear, you let yourself be guided along. The lantern lit halls were roomier than you would have expected, and you could hear the distant voices of the crew. 
“Here we go,” he said gently, opening another large door. He went in first again, and you entered what had to be his quarters.
Of course. We’re getting his clothes. 
It was full of rich, dark woods, red blankets, a desk that seemed to have more bottles of alcohol than anything work related on it, and a delightful, almost spicy scent filling the air. 
The room was a bit messy, and you felt out of place standing there in that frilly dress while he dug through his wardrobe, tossing clothes to the ground as he searched.
“Here, love, how about these?”
“Do you have a belt?”
~
Managing to roll, buckle, and tuck at his clothes, you were mostly satisfied as you checked the mirror.
Even with all the buttons done up, you still had to tie his shirt to keep your chest from popping out like his does. 
“You almost finished? The party’s star…”
Those pretty eyes brightened when you opened the door. His little smirk made you frown, and he held his hand up.
“You were right, Y/N. This definitely suits you better.”
He offered that hand to you, and even in the warm glow of the lanterns, you could see scars, callouses, and thick veins that made your breath hitch for a moment. 
Your hand had almost reached his when he pulled away.
“Almost forgot,” he teased, his voice somehow lower than normal as he stepped out of the doorway for you. “I’ll lose my only hand if I touch you, right?”
“I…”
“Well, I definitely won’t risk that.”
He stepped further back, letting you follow him into the hallway. 
Your brain seemed to stutter, unable to join the moment as it flew through conflicting emotions. 
Like why it upset you that he wouldn’t risk it. 
Shanks moved in close, his spicy scent filling your lungs as you looked up at him. 
“Just let me know if that ever changes.”
He turned away after a subtle wink that made your brain short circuit. 
“You comin’? I’m hungry.”
Still barefoot without your fishy shoes, you chased that red hair down the hallway.
He really is some sort of seduction demon.
~
“Hey, girly. Is this jackass treating you alright?”
“This is how you talk about your captain?”
The older man with long, gray hair ignored Shanks’ protests as he looked you over.
“You should be more worried about him,” you grumbled, narrowing your eyes at the captain.
“Ha, I’m sure you’re right.”
He grinned down at you, before motioning toward the fire. 
“Come on, the food’s almost done.”
The crew had found a remote beach, and set up camp. Their camp supplies seemed to be mostly alcohol. 
Shanks had said they had business here, and that they’d go to the village in about three days.
What kind of business are pirates getting up to on my island?
The thought was pushed aside as Shanks called for you. Most of the pirates were holding their plates, or using boulders or crates while they ate. Captain Shanks had a dingy little table by the fire, and was waving you over. 
“Come on, love. Let’s eat, and find out why that fish of yours is so special.”
The day's events hit you again, but you joined him in a mismatched chair, and grabbed a fork. 
It smelled good.
“Here,” Shanks demanded, shoving a mug of some kind of alcohol into your hand, before standing and lifting his own to address the crew. “Here’s to our luck! We found an unlucky fisherwoman, and now we’ve got good eats. To Y/N!”
The sheer volume of their enthusiasm made your eyes go wide as you faked a sip.
“So tell me, fish girl,” he leaned toward you, the small table not leaving much space between you. “Why is this fish so special?”
Ignoring him, you focused on your plate. The way it looked and smelled was perfect, but you had to know.
He watched your movements, following along as you pierced into the flesh, bringing the first bite to your lips. 
It was perfect. Whoever had cooked it had treated it right. The tender meat and the subtle flavor were given just the amount of spice to balance it out.
It would have sold well. After all it took to get it, you were grateful that it didn’t go to waste, and tasting it yourself was wonderful.
Even if you were sharing it with a pirate.
“This is incredible, Y/N. You really are a fish girl.”
Letting out a sigh, you dug in, trying to enjoy the meal that had put you in this situation. The night was filled with the sounds of music, laughter, and endless calls for cheers, the clanging of metal mugs like the shifting heartbeat of this joyful crew.
“So, I had someone take a look at your boat, in case we could help fix it.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my boat,” you spat out, wishing you could have enjoyed your meal in peace. Without this too fucking handsome and annoying pirate captain.
Shanks tapped his fingers on the table, a smirk playing at his lips. 
“That was the report,” he said softly, the teasing tone building slowly in his voice. “They did say that one of the oars is missing.”
“Thanks for the report,” you grumbled, watching the fire now.
“Come on, just tell me what happened. How’d you get stranded out there?”
“It’s none of your business.”
Your face felt hot, the fire not close enough for the burning in your skin. 
“Consider it payment then. For my clothes, and for my company,” he taunted, his voice dipping low. 
“I could do without the latter.”
“You wound me, sweet damsel.”
He put his hand to his heart, chuckling at your frown before chugging whatever was in his mug.
“It was a really good catch,” you mumbled, giving in. He scooted even closer to you, excitement in those lovely eyes, mixing with the light of the fire.
Shanks kept that beautiful mouth shut, just tilting his head toward yours as he waited.
“My grandma used to talk about her best catch. That was it,” you said flatly, gesturing to your empty plate. “She made me promise that if I ever caught a fish like that, I had to eat it myself, eat it with friends.”
“Don’t waste a fish like that on berry, sugar. It’s a gift.”
He raised his mug as you mimicked your grandma’s voice, and you brought yours up with a sigh, still just pretending to drink.
“I’m honored, then. Your grandma was right, that fish was amazing.”
Memories of her seemed to join you at the table, bittersweet, and heavier than you’d like. 
“Sorry, Y/N. You, uh… You doing okay?”
“I’m fine,” you coughed, a hint of anger back in your voice as you fought against the prickling in your eyes.
“Well,” he drawled out, extending the word for way too long, “you still didn’t tell me how you got stranded out there with nothing but the perfect fish.”
Groaning, you put your forehead on the dingy table and blurted it out, as if you could make it not true if you said it fast enough. 
“I caught the fish. I saw what it was. It started to slip through my hands. I knew it’d sell well, so I didn’t want to lose it. I ended up tripping over one of the oars. I should have let it go, I could have grabbed the oar if I’d seen it slipping. But I was greedy. I wanted to sell that stupid fish instead of eating it, and now grandma’s probably cussing at me from the afterlife.”
Shanks at least had the decency to shove his knuckles between his teeth before he started laughing. 
“Oh, fuck you,” you huffed, standing to leave the captain’s dingy table.
“Wait, please,” he called, catching your fingers in his, and pulling you back toward him. Only to drop your hand as if he’d been burned when you met his eyes.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean–”
Whatever you might have said was lost in a wave of too many things at once. Humiliation over the whole thing, fear that these pirates could still hurt you, especially if you fell asleep, and the burning in your stupid cheeks because this gorgeous asshole held your hand. 
What the fuck is wrong with me today?
The moon was mostly full, so there was plenty of light on the sand as you walked away from the camp. They were so fucking noisy, but the ocean beckoned for you to sit, gentle waves like your grandmother’s sweet voice. 
When she wasn’t giving me shit, you thought with a laugh, digging your toes in the sand. 
“The ocean makes me feel better too.”
His deep voice annoyed you more than it startled you. 
Shanks sat beside you, but not too close.
Ignoring him did not make him go away. 
“What do you want?”
“I wanna make your shitty day better. How can I do that?”
“Take me home.”
“Three days on that one, love. Anything more immediate?”
Your plan to stay up all night was already failing, exhaustion dragging you down.
His eyes were so soft under the moon, the hint of a smile brightening his face.
“I don’t want to sleep out in the open with everyone. Is there somewhere… safe where I can sleep?”
Shanks nodded, looking down as he cleared his throat. 
“Of course, let me take you now.”
The ship itself seemed to be sleeping, so quiet with only a handful of crew watching it as the rest camped on the island. 
Red hair under lantern light guided you through those wood paneled halls again, until he led you to the guest quarters. 
“Here’s the key, and you’re welcome to shove this chair under the door knob as well. Breakfast will be at the beach in the morning,” he laughed, running his fingers through his hair. “It’ll probably be the afternoon depending on the hangovers, but you– Are you alright?”
He knelt at your feet, looking you over as you slumped onto the bed.
“How long were you out there today? Have you been drinking water? Are you…”
This charming pirate stopped himself from touching your forehead, and some insane, fatigued part of you reached out, grabbing his hand with both of yours. 
“I lied,” you confessed, voice quiet and close, his pretty eyes on your lips. “I can’t cut your hand off. I’m not armed.”
The slow smile he gave you now was your favorite, somehow making the light in his eyes shine brighter. Your hands reluctantly let go of him as he shifted, but instead of moving away, Shanks touched his calloused fingers to your cheek. 
“Your secret’s safe with me, sweetheart.”
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Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!
a/n: I am obsessed with these two now. What the heck. I need Shanks to make fun of me like that 😅
Tag List: @shewrites02
Part 2
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| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |
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annab-nana · 3 months
Note
being teased about their weird cravings during pregnancy with Eddie🥺 he would give you so much shit for some of the things you wanted
he so would and he'd do it while getting you exactly what you wanted too
warnings: not proofread, pregnant!reader, use of pet names (sweetcheeks, sweetheart)
❀ masterlist ❀
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"you're a weirdo, you know that, right?" eddie told you as he pulled the brownies out of the oven.
you scoffed, tossing another dorito in your mouth. "i know you of all people are not calling me a weirdo right now."
from where you sat on the counter, you could see the side of his face including his jaw dropping in faux shock. "i think wanting to eat doritos and brownies together trumps d and d nerd by at least fifty percent."
"eh,” you muttered with a shrug.
"eh?" he echoed, baffled by your nonchalance.
"yeah, eh, and anyway, you're the reason we're in this mess," you teased, swinging your feet back and forth as he discarded the oven mitts he wore and turned off the oven.
"i just love how it's always 'i got you into this mess' when you're complaining, but it's 'you creating life' and all this other great stuff when you're in a good mood," eddie spoke in a playful tone, his wide grin making you remember all the reasons you fell in love with him.
"just think about it, okay? it will be cheesy and chocolatey. the best of both worlds. the doritos will bring a crunchy aspect while the brownies will be softer and will add warmth. dare i say it, i've created something wonderful," you shared your ideas in excitement and awe while eddie came over to stand between your thighs, his hands resting on the counter on either side of you.
"oh, so now you created it? you may be the brains, sweetcheeks, but i just slaved over these brownies. i want my cut when this goes big," eddie said with an affirmative hum. he raised his eyebrows at you, playing along as if you two were really cutting a deal for a wonderous new invention.
your brows dropped into a furrow. "you were just calling me a weirdo and now you want in?"
"first off, sweetheart, i would never call you a weirdo. it's just not my style." you stared blankly at him as he spoke, trying to fight off the growing grin at his antics. "secondly, let's talk percentages. seventy-thirty seems reasonable enough to me, me getting the seventy of course, but based on the look on your face, i can settle for fifty-fifty, even split."
"let me get this straight," you play along, leaning in close as well. "you want half of the cut for my idea that you were just dogging?"
the corner of eddie's lips curled into a smirk while he crept ever so slightly closer to you. his face was inches from yours. "you're getting the idea."
you moved even closer, your lips lingering a centimeter or two away from his. "you're crazy, munson."
he closed the distance between you and pressed his lips to yours. he stepped closer, supporting his weight on the counter by leaning his hips between your legs. his hands moved to grip your waist and pulled you to the edge of the countertop. he whispered into the kiss, "you adore it, sweetheart."
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remember to support writers & reblog :)
turn on notifications for @annab-library to be notified when i post something new or join the tag list here!
tag list: @fiction-is-life @jellyfishbeansontoast @daisyridleyss
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thisapplepielife · 2 months
Text
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Written for a @astrangersummer.
Just The Facts
Week #14 Prompt: "Can you hear me?" | Word Count: 813 | Rating: T | POV: Erica | Characters: Erica, Steve | CW: Language, Minor Allusions to Period-Typical Microaggressions | Tags: S4 "The Piggyback" Missing Scene, Scoops Troop Forever
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Erica runs.
She hurries, just like Lucas asked. 
Her knee hurts, her back, her ankle. 
She feels sprung, in a way she never has before. Not crawling through the ductwork of the mall. Not in the elevator, surging down, down, down. That had been an adventure. 
Scoops Troop, solving the mystery. Taking down the big bad. 
It had been fun.
This isn't fun.
Not anymore. 
She barrels down the staircase, and out the front door, and straight across the street to the run-down park. She picks up her abandoned walkie, and presses the button down, holding it tight.
"Can you hear me? Code red. Code red! Over," she says, letting up on the button. And there's no response, just static. "Dustin?"
"Robin?"
"Steve?"
"Anyone?"
There's no one, "Code red. I need an ambulance. Hang on. I'm going for help."
And she runs down the street. Runs to the nearest house on the block that has any lights on, and bangs on the door. When it opens, she holds up her hands. Just the facts. That's all she needs to give.
"I'm Erica Sinclair. I live on Maple. My brother's hurt, and we need an ambulance."
Erica is running up the sidewalk when she sees it, the house ripping apart and she stutters, stopping, waiting to see where she'll be able to go from here. 
She's not even sure she can get back in the house. Not sure if there's anything left to get back to, not in there. Not now.
Lucas. Max.
She called for help. 
Lucas told her to, and she did.
Sirens are wailing in the distance, but she can't be sure if they're headed her way or not. Not now. There's a jagged line ripped through the earth, and the damage must be bad. Really, bad. All over.
Erica wants to go home. She wants her mom. She wants her dad. She wants Lucas.
Right now, she has none of those things.
So, she sits on the grass, and holds her leg. It hurts in several places, and she's scared. She won't cry, though. She won't.
And she doesn't cry, and she's proud of herself as she finally hears a car coming up the street, moving fast, and she hopes it's the ambulance.
It's not. 
But it might be better.
"What happened?" Steve screams as soon as his head pops up out of the car, then he's barreling towards her from down the road, where'd he'd parked as close as he could get to the falling apart house.
"I got tackled!" she screams, and she doesn't know why. That's not important. Max is hurt. Lucas too, probably.
Her stupid knee doesn't matter.
"By who?!" Steve screams back, falling to his knees, face twisted into a grimace as he hits the ground, sitting back on his haunches. "How hurt are you?" he asks, his hands touching her arms, her face, looking over her.
She thinks maybe she should ask him the same thing.
"I don't know. Some basketball goon. I'm okay. Max. Max is upstairs. With Lucas. It happened," she says, and Steve looks up. 
"Shit," he says.
"My thoughts exactly," she echoes.
The ambulance finally pulls up behind Steve's car, and Steve takes over, making her sit there, demanding that she not move. 
For once, she listens.
The ambulance takes Max, and Lucas crawls in with her after a small argument, but Steve vouches for him, and they seem to take his word when they wouldn't believe Lucas saying the same, exact thing.
She wants to think it's because Steve's older, because he's a Harrington, but she knows that's not all of the whole story, and she pushes it out of her mind. She got help. She did what Lucas asked her to do, and Steve's here now.
She doesn't have Lucas, or her mom or dad. But she has Steve.
And Steve's moving as if he's gonna pick her up, holding out his hands, like he expects her to be lifted onto his hip. Like she's a baby.
"What do you think you're doing, nerd?" she asks, but there's no heat, not tonight, "I'm eleven, not five."
Steve laughs, "Of course you are. Piggyback?"
Well, her body does hurt from being tackled by an overgrown horse's ass of a basketball player.
She nods, and Steve squats, letting her climb up. He moves stiffly, and winces as she wraps her legs around his sides, and she thinks maybe she should have declined his offer, just to keep from hurting him worse than he clearly already is.
"I'm eleven," she says softly, more to herself than him.
"I know you are, and none of this was cool," he says, hoisting her higher onto his back.
And that's what does it. It's embarrassing, and she couldn't explain it if she tried, but she buries her face in Steve's back, and finally cries.
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If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @astrangersummer and follow along with the fun!
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sgt-tombstone · 3 months
Note
omg immortal soap
what if he's been around for a while and is proficient with swords
imagine him wielding a claymore
Anon you’re so incredibly right, that man was made to have a broadsword in his hands (bonus points for a full kilt ensemble too)
And, because I am a history major (and a research nerd to boot), here are a couple of quotes from Arthur Herman’s book, How the Scots Invented the Modern World:
“As Dr. Johnson observed, in the Highlands ‘every man was a soldier.’ The clansman was trained to fight from boyhood. Armed with his double-edged broadsword, which measured a yard long and two inches wide; his dagger or dirk; and his shield or targe, and screaming his clan’s motto as he rushed headlong at his opponent, he was a formidable sight. But he was no Iron Age throwback, the ‘bare-arsed banditti’ of English legend. He could be as familiar with handling a musket, and fighting in formation, as any British grenadier. For generations the principal export of the Highlands had been its surplus males, as soldiers and mercenaries for the armies of Europe. In the Middle Ages, Irish chieftains had hired them: nicknamed galloglasses or redshanks because of their exposed knees below their kilts, Scottish mercenaries had kept the Gaelic parts of Ireland safe from the English for four hundred years… ‘They are formidable fellows… They are all gentlemen, will take no affront from any man, and insolent to the last degree.’” (pgs 128-129).
“Once again, British cavalry and infantry flew into a panic as the Highlanders attacked… ‘Men accustomed only to exchange bullets at a distance… are discouraged and amazed when they find themselves encountered hand to hand, and catch the gleam of steel flashing in their faces’” (pg 149).
That’s the immortal Johnny I picture, especially if he and Simon meet on the battlefield, Scottish mercenary against English soldier. Simon has never given much thought to the Highlanders beyond the usual English disdain, but when he meets Johnny on the battlefield, all righteous anger and blazing passion, a broadsword in his face and a rattling war cry echoing in his ears, he knows that he’d gladly let Johnny kill him if only to have the honor of dying at his hand
Isn’t it fortuitous, then, that Johnny is waiting by his side when he wakes up hours later, a decent meal and an explanation waiting for him, because Johnny’s been around for at least three hundred years and he’s really fucking tired of going it alone (if the universe decides to dump some self-righteous Manc on him… well, he’s done more with less, and he’s sure he can crack that hard shell sooner rather than later)
As a side note, I highly recommend the book that those quotes come from, it’s a fascinating look into the origins of Scotland, its culture, and its people. It touches a lot on Scotland’s historical ties to England and the rest of the world from the 1500s on. The author is a distinguished historian (so he knows what he’s talking about) and it’s truly an enlightening read (and has taught me a lot about our favorite sudsy sergeant 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿)
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wrathofrats · 5 months
Text
Mushy May Day 2- reminiscing (I changed it oops)
I’m just rewriting thunderstorms because I loved it a lot and wanted to rewrite something a year later, just because I think I can expand upon it (:
Thanks to @forlorn-crows for putting this month together!
1.5k of mountain and dew listening to a thunderstorm.
Warnings: hurt/comfort, mountain attempts to have a serious talk with dew, vague description of a small panic attack,
“Dew, can I ask you a question”
“Yeah of course, what’s up” dew mumbled, head forward to the sky. Mountain lifted himself from his shoulder and sighed.
“Why do you act the way you do”
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Dew opened his eyes slowly, just in time to see the room be lit up with lightning, closely followed by a clap of thunder that echoed through the house. He rolled over and attempted to snuggle into a body that was no longer there. A mass of pillows and sheets made up the form of the earth ghoul he had fallen asleep with, as if he didnt want to wake dew in his absence.
“Mountain?” Dew whispered in a groggy tone. It wasn’t like mountain to leave in the middle of the night when they slept together. Often he was the one to hold dew close and mumble protests when they finally had to get up, but dew couldn't remember the last time he had left him first. He attempted to pull the pillows closer to him, the smell of mountain mixed with some kind of fresh scented cheap detergent invaded his senses. All too artificial and cold, a poor excuse for another body.
The house is always eerily still at this hour. The only source of sound being the rolling clouds in the distance and the creak of old wood under dews feet. He could sneak into someone else’s room, wedge himself between aether and Swiss, or curl behind cirrus. But the curiosity of where mountain had gone at such an hour peaked dews interest too much, and the particular ache in his hips was something only quelled by his earth ghoul.
Another large lightning strike lit up the living room, and a figure sitting outside on the patio.
“Mountain?” Dew whispered again, opening the back door.
Mountain turned to greet dew with a small smile. “Hi droplet, storm wake you up?”
“Yeah I guess. You too?” Dew closed the door and walked over to stand next to him, pulling one of the chairs that didn’t seem soaked in rain over to the convenient dry spot that mountain had found on the porch.
“Just couldn’t sleep”
“ ….. we could go for round two if you want something to tir-“
“Just listen to the storm with me,” mountain interrupted. “Usually helps me sleep”
The strong wind and splashes of rain made dew pull his jacket closer to himself, shivering as he sat down. Mountain threw an arm over his shoulder, pulling the smaller ghoul close as another boom of thunder hit. Warmth radiated off of dew as he attempted to regulate his own temperature, putting off waves of heat to keep the both of them comfortable. Mountain breathed deeply, inhaling the earthy smell of thunderstorm, with hints of dewdrop, a comfort of spice and smoke. They sat like that for a minute, basking in each other's company before dew broke the silence.
“So do you just, watch?” He asked
“Yeah” mountain hummed, shoving his face into dews neck and taking a deep breath.
“What are you watching? There’s nothing happening”
Mountain smiled at him “there’s plenty happening, but sometimes it’s nice to sit and just appreciate nature even when there’s nothing going on”
“Sounds like you’re just a nerd” mountain rolled his eyes and sighed.
“You’re more than welcome to go back inside if you’re bored”
“But I wanted you to come with me” dew leaned his head onto mountains where it was still rested on his shoulder. He drew his legs up to avoid the splashes of rain on the concrete. “Besides, it’s wet out here. Wouldn’t it be better to watch from inside if you’re so insistent?”
“But that’s not the point of sitting out here”
“Then what is the point?” Dew grumbled, pouting with his arms against his chest.
Mountain breathed deep for a minute. As much as he loved dew, sometimes he wanted to spend his time peacefully. He wanted to take an opportunity to appreciate the simplicity of the storm, to breathe in the petrichor as if he would never experience it again. There’s always been something grounding about watching a storm pass, about the morality that Mother Nature reminded everyone of.
Dew reminded him of a dark cloud sometimes. Heavy and rain filled, simply looking for a release even if it ended up being destructive to those around him. Mountain lost his patience with him earlier, evident by the bruising around his wrist and the way dew couldn’t quite sit still. They sat for a couple more minutes without speaking. Purely focused on the wind and rain. More thunder rumbled in the distance. They watched as the silvery clouds flashed above the tree line.
“Dew, can I ask you a question”
“Yeah of course, what’s up” dew mumbled, head forward to the sky. Mountain lifted himself from his shoulder and sighed.
“Why do you act the way you do”
Dew was stunned. He didn’t know how to answer that question. Mountain didn’t look at him when he asked, gaze turned towards his lap as if he too didn’t know what answer he wanted, or even why he had asked the question in the first place.
“I dont- what do you mean?” He asked, looking up at the bigger ghoul. Mountain leaned his head back, staring directly into the sky.
“You’re just constantly provoking. You seem to do things specifically to get on people’s nerves, specifically to get a reaction.”
“Then don’t react. I’m just joking and you know that mo” dew rolled his eyes. He sounded teasing, like he was still trying to get the rise of annoyance out of mountain. An instinct in him to continue to push until he can’t anymore.
“See? I don’t really understand you sometimes. You seem to just always want to be bad”
“Fuck you” tears welled up in dews eyes before he could stop them or turn away. He quickly stood up and stumbled backwards as if the chair was suddenly burning his skin.
“Droplet that’s not-“
“I dont” he furiously wiped his face, embarrassed to have mountain see him cry over something that seems so trivial. Part of him has to admit that mountain is somewhat right. He can’t help it, can’t help the part of him that wants to see the reaction to his antics, the part of him that feels sickly satisfied with the grumble of annoyance or backlash when he’s successful.
Dew knew he was probably overreacting, but the sentence stung, “you just always want to be bad” he doesnt. He doesn’t know why he acts the way he does.
“I know you don’t” mountain attempted to move towards him, but dew continued to back up, putting as much space as possible between them like a frightened animal. His eyes were squeezed shut, the sight of pity on mountains face unbearable. If mountain thought he wanted to act out to be a nuisance he didn't want his pity as well. He shouldn’t feel bad for him in this context. Especially since he probably deserves it.
“You just fucking said I do. You just said I do you asshole” the tears were falling faster than he could wipe his face. He wanted to rush inside, lock himself in his room and attempt to forget the conversation that was happening. He doesn’t want to be an annoyance, to make people angry, to be bad.
“That’s not what I meant” Mountain took another step towards dew. His movements were slow, cautious, not to overwhelm the fire ghoul. He hated seeing him like this, as anyone would.
“Stop”
“You constantly act like you want to be punished. You act like you need someone to beat it out of you. You’re only good after you let someone treat you like some kind of stress relief.”
“Mountain stop, please” dew hiccuped. He put his arm in front of his face like he was trying to block out mountains words. Every fiber in him praying mountain will drop him like a sufficiently wounded animal and stop toying with him.
“You don’t deserve to be hurt Dew”
Dew froze. He dropped his sleeve from his face and stared at mountain. Thunder continued to crackled in the distance, but all he could hear was his own heartbeat and blood rushing through his eardrums. His chest felt like it was constricting hearing those words said to him. He wanted to respond, call him stupid and go to bed. But he couldn’t. It felt like there was a golf ball in his throat, preventing him from speaking. He continued to stare at mountain. Neither of them made any attempt to move.
“You deserve positive attention droplet” mountain whispered, as if the words being spoken would break dew into tiny pieces in front of him. “You deserve to be able to ask for the love you need”
He made a slow advancement towards him, giving him to to move in case he still didn’t want to be touched at the moment. But dew continued to stand there, tears still streaming down his cheeks. Mountain put his arms around the smaller ghoul and held him tightly. Dew finally broke and sobbed into mountains shoulder. Holding onto his shirt for dear life.
“I’m sorry” he managed to get out “ I don’t mean to -“
“You don’t need to be sorry” mountain cut him off. He slowly pet his hair while dew continued to bury his head into his chest. “I love you so much”
A cold breeze laced with the spray of rain washed over them. Dews skinned burned as he cried into mountains chest while little rivets of steam radiated off of him. Mountain could only feel the pleasant warmth through his layers of clothing, he wished that he could hold dew like this forever.
They stayed like that for as long as dew needed it. Holding each other while the storm continued on in the background.
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jeonfiles · 2 years
Text
sweetest apparition 01│ jjk
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pairings: nerd!jungkook x popular!female reader
genre: angst with a bit of fluff and a bittersweet ending (and the tamest smut you’ve ever read)
synopsis: he admired you from a distance. everyone did. you're serene, words dance like ballerinas of your tongue, stars aligning when you laugh, the wind was made to sway with your hair, you were just too good for the world, and you would never know his name.
warnings: !! graphic deceptions of domestic abuse!! , jungkook is a little too in love, oc is kinda obsessed too, mentions of alcohol and drug abuse
wc: 12k oops
a/n: if you're triggered by domestic abuse pls don't read, i will write other stories without a single mention of it soon, im sorry i love you :( this story is just everything i wanted to write for so long and i hope you don't think its cliche lol
++ started writing this in 2021 and it took me so long to finish
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masterlist │ my cc
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14 days
A loud smack echoed in the dark living room, the smell of alcohol making him sick to his stomach, cheek red from the impact. He carefully held his palm up against his cheek as he prayed to god for someone to save him from this awful household, and his father's clutch.
Jungkook wasn't a crier, he had grown accustomed to the lack of parental love, yet it still stung a little when he heard his father curse at him, questioning why he even had kids. Dragging his feet down the wood-covered halls, Jungkook scrunched his nose in disgust as he saw mold growing on the walls, and he had no idea what to do with it.
His feet took him all the way to his room, dimly lit up with a little nightlight he had bought at the town's annual festival, and next to it was a birthday card from a few years back, which you had given him. He wasn't a stalker, it was just the only birthday card he had gotten from anyone. You were both 11 back then, and Jungkook had invited the whole grade to a party at his grandma's house.
No one showed up the first 20 minutes, and Jungkook cried in his grandma's arms until the doorbell rang, and a sniffling Jungkook opened the door to see you, smiling brightly, stretching out your birthday card with two ten thousand won bills paper-clipped inside.
Jungkook appreciated how you didn't pity him that day, how you didn't even ask about the other guests' absence. You just devoured the chocolate cake together, both laughing at each other and your glaze-stained faces. You never spoke to Jungkook afterward, yet you still left the biggest mark in his heart, and he would never, ever in his life forget you, and how you lit up a broken little boy's heart forever.
Tears prickling in his eyes, blinking them away, gone as fast as they came. He went to sleep early that night, knowing he would see you tomorrow, possibly the only thing keeping him from completely giving up. You were his everything, the light of his life, shimmer in his eyes, despite you not remembering his name. He didn't care, he would just continue fantasizing till it swallows him whole.
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13 days
The front strands of your ponytail fell down in your face as you laughed joyously, bubbles brewing in his stomach as he tightened his grip on the book he was reading, The Lover by Marguerite Duras, a disturbing book, which he wasn't focusing on at all.
You were laying down in the grass, frilly pink skirt and a white top, summer breeze warm and comforting, as you giggled with two of your many friends, Jihan and Sooyoung.
The two last weeks of school before the summer break was your favorite, your report cards had been handed out and the school didn't require you to wear uniforms either, so you could wear all the pretty clothes you had bought, preparing for the hot weather.
A guy approached you, which Jungkook recognized as Kim Taehyung, your best friend, with who you were very comfortable, a bit too much for Jungkook's liking.
His whole stomach twisted into a harsh knot when he threw his arms playfully around her neck, quite literally, because he could feel his breakfast come up his throat as he gripped onto the bench, hurling onto the grass. In some ways, he knew it was coming. He had felt the weird feeling in his stomach since he woke up.
"Oh god... Look at Jungkook!" Jihan chuckled, a vicious tone in her laugh. A frown formed on your face, feeling bad for him, so you loosened yourself from Taehyung as you reached for your purse to approach him.
"Jihan." You gave her a cold stare, and she looked away awkwardly, "I'll be back soon." Already rushing over to the boy who was about to wipe his mouth with his hand.
"You shouldn't-!" You exclaim, and he freezes. He's still hanging, face facing the grass, huddled over the bench, saliva dripping from his mouth, probably an attempt to get rid of the gruesome taste.
Jungkook slowly turned his head to face you, and his whole body froze when he met your sympathetic gaze. Digging through your purse you found makeup wipes, holding one out for him to grab. He didn't take it, so you leaned forward to wipe his mouth yourself. "Yuck, this must've been horrible. Are you okay?" You smiled as the tissue met the corner of his mouth, with no trace of disgust on your face.
He didn't try to pull back either, he was so mesmerized by your face up close, he genuinely thought his fantasies had finally swallowed him whole.
Jungkook had an unreadable expression on his face, he was pale like milk, and you felt worried and contemplated calling for a teacher, but you realized they could probably not do any more than you could, considering you were outside of campus, in the park on the other side of town for another foolish class outing.
Placing the used wipe on the bench next to him, he winced and moved a little away from it, and you just felt relieved that he wasn't completely dead. You grabbed a water bottle from your purse, holding it for him so he could drink. It was a hot summer day, the scorching heat had probably gotten to him, lips dry like sandpaper.
He took a few sips, hesitating for a while until he kept drinking. "You must've been so lightheaded, you have to take care of yourself." He only nodded in response. You threw the wipes away and buttered up your hands in hand sanitizer and hand cream before getting comfortable on the bench next to Jungkook.
"Sorry if you don't want me next to you, but I don't think you should be alone like this. You have anyone who can pick you up?" He pondered on your question, only for a short while, until he realized, he had absolutely no one.
"No." He spoke dryly, voice weak and vulnerable. It made you want to protect him, but all you did was sit back in silence, placing your hand on Jungkook's knee, and he grimaced in pain, letting out a small whine.
"Shit, I´m so sorry!" You pulled your hand away, smiling apologetically. Your friends looked at you, questioning looks on their faces as to why you were sitting next to someone like Jungkook.
You brushed them off, and Jungkook crossed his arms protectively, and you felt a pang of guilt. He had only uttered a single word to you, as simple as "No."
When he lifted his arms up, you took it as an opportunity to let your eyes wander, noticing how frail the boy was, how his skin was light as day, and his bicep covered in a purple bruise on his arm, you couldn't help but think he had been sick for a while.
"Let's move out of the sun." You smiled, standing up and taking his hand, and he slowly got up, and you offered a second hand to help him get stable.
His legs were wobbly, the emotions were too much for him. He was holding your hand, you were caring for him, just like you did many years back. You hadn't changed, you were still an angel and not a product of his imagination.
The tears that had been welling up in his eyes last night finally came to the surface, endlessly rolling down his cheeks. You could nearly feel the sting as you heard his quiet sobbing and saw his cheeks turn splotchy red.
He looked embarrassed, mortified actually. You quickly placed his arm over your shoulder, as you started walking away from the open areas of the park. The bus station was close by, so you walked away from the park and your teachers, and none of you seemed to care.
A bus you took quite often luckily passed by, and you waved for it to stop, and of course, the bus driver stopped for you, a sight to behold, and you halted onto the bus with a sniffling Jungkook.
You both looked at each other, eyes widening when you realized that you had skipped school. Chuckling together, your heart warmed up, finally, he was smiling.
You wiped his tear with his thumb as you swore you would protect him from all danger. You both went separate ways that evening after you paid for some cheap mediocre sandwiches at the gas station, not talking much.
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12 days left
The next time you see Jungkook, it's no different from the first, he's in yet another pitiful situation, nervously picking up all the books he had just dropped on the ground when crashing into Moonbin, another sleaze who has tried it with you.
"Watch your step dweeb," Moonbin growled, placing a foot on Jungkook's shoulder, pushing him down so his head hits the gravel.
Poor Jungkook groaned in agony, throbbing pain as he rushed to pick up the rest of his books, muttering sorry over and over again.
"Moonbin, what the fuck is your problem?" You stepped in, his saving angel. God had sent you to aid him, he was sure of it. "What has he ever done to you?" You spat, standing between the two boys.
Moonbin was a good 6'3, his height a little intimidating, yet you didn't budge. "Y/N-ah, seriously, stay out of it." His expression softened at the sight of you, and it only made you even angrier, stepping with full force on his foot, making him yell in agony, the little heel crushing his toes.
"Jungkook is my friend, and you don't mess with my friends." You smiled proudly, shooing Moonbin and his bruised ego away before you sat down on the ground with Jungkook, who looked at you like you possessed the world's greatest treasures.
You knew his name. You, Y/N Y/L/N, knew his name. He could squeal in happiness any second, luckily his throbbing headache kept him grounded, adoration glazing his pretty eyes. He had a little bruise on his forehead from the gravel, luckily no blood, and you didn't dare touch it, afraid Jungkook would cry out in pain again like he did two days ago.
You followed him to the bathroom, offering to hold his stuff for him, even his phone, case decorated in Undertale and Zelda stickers, and you laughed to yourself as you traced the stickers with your fingers. Out of a sudden, the buzzes from his phone wouldn't stop, and you flipped his phone around to see series of messages on his lock screen.
Dad 04:37pm
Where are you
You idior come home or i'l, throw your shit ouvt
Ungsteful brat no wonder your mom left tou
Heart dropping to the floor, you dismissed the messages and pretended you had never even seen them, scared Jungkook would close up again as he had finally started talking to you.
When he exited the bathroom, you pretended you hadn't seen anything, yet the lump in your stomach just grew bigger every time you looked at him. You started noticing, how his eyes were puffy, bags under his eyes, one cheek redder than the other, how skinny Jungkook was, and it made you shiver.
"A-are you.. alright?" He asked softly, and you only nodded, pressing your books up against your chest, trying to suppress whatever emotions you so desperately wanted to show.
He followed you home that evening, and you nearly cried out for him not to leave, not to go home to his dad who's texts had scared the living daylights out of you, so you reached for his hand.
"Stay for a while?" You pleaded, smiling, and he could see a little hurt in your eyes. He wanted to, so badly. Then he realized that he had a father at home, so he shook his head.
"I'm sorry, my dad wants me home." And you could hear the fear in his voice as he got ready to leave. His lips reduced into a thin line as you pouted.
"Give me your number at least." You smiled, despite being afraid, and he obliged, typing his number in on your phone, being extremely cautious because of the price of your new iPhone 12, while he was stuck with the iPhone 5.
He turned on his heel, and you couldn't stop him. He slipped out of your hands, your grip. You gulped, watching him walk till he was out of sight. You tossed and turned the whole night, which you never did, you always fell asleep in minutes. You were worried, a few dry cries probably left your mouth.
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11 days left
He was present in class the next morning, a feeling of relief as you saw him with his nose down in another book, yet he looked even more defeated than yesterday. He ignored your smiles, he just looked at you with a dead expression and pushed his glasses up his nose, throwing his hoodie over his head, looking back down into his books.
Class ended, and you gracefully walked over to Jungkook's desk, because it seemed like he had no intention of getting up. "I made extra lunch this morning so we could share. You never eat during break so-"
"Y/N, leave." He pointed at the door, all the other students leaving, signaling for you to leave with them, you refused, and pulled out a chair to sit in front of him.
"You're all skin and bones, Jungkook. Let's enjoy this meal together, I can be silent if you want." You shrugged, grabbing two bento boxes from your backpack.
"Why do you care? Don't you have friends you should be spending time with?" Jungkook spat, not even willing to look you in the eyes.
You just kept smiling, opening the boxes carefully and handing him a pair of chopsticks, "You're my friend too, Kook-ah," and he accepted, a small grin appearing on his face.
He loves you, he absolutely loves you. He doesn't even mind that you feel nothing for him, you are so, so perfect. Jungkook could stare at you all day, letting your beauty sink in time and time again. He wants to hold you because you're so close to him, but he knows that you're two worlds apart, no matter the distance between you two.
You could hold him so tight he'd turn blue and you'd still be so god damn far away, you were so out of his league, as cliche as it sounds, it's completely true.
Eating together in silence as you promised. Jungkook was completely engulfed in your sweet, silent beauty, how you resembled a wave that hits the shore with such ease, splashing everywhere, landing as simple drops of water, which couldn't hurt anyone.
You weren't loud and outrageous, you enjoy moments of silence, you love everything enclosed, safe and sound company, exactly like Jungkook.
"You wanna come to my house today?" You break the comfortable silence.
"I can't." He replies, sounding awfully sad.
You could ask why, but you chose not to. You didn't want to pick scabs off wounds you couldn't see, so you waited till he told you yourself. Hoping he would.
"Okay. You have my number though, can we text tonight?" You smile, knowing it's weird to ask someone to text you, but Jungkook was weird too, so it didn't matter.
He nodded and continued reading a book you knew nothing about. You appreciate a good book, classics like Catcher in the Rye, and How to kill a mocking bird, but it seemed like Jungkook had taken the next step into the world of literature.
He made you happy, his company felt good. Nothing could hurt you now, yet everything could hurt Jungkook, and you swore you felt nauseous just thinking about it. You knew what was happening in his home, but you needed him to tell you, trust you, before you could help him. Give him what he deserves, he just needs to hang in there for a little while longer.
"Can't we skip school tomorrow, we can do something then? It won't affect our report cards!" You shake him excitedly, yet carefully, like he's fragile
"They'll call home, my parents are already mad at me for a bad grade I got last week." Jungkook sighs, closing the book he was reading. He lets out a weak, quiet yawn.
You think he's pretty like this, eyes puffy and lips pouted, hair messy, glasses resting on his nose. Jungkook has the most beautiful eyes you've ever seen, and you swore to god you could drown in them.
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10 days left
See tags for warnings.
He dragged his feet down the pavement of a busy street, trapping onto his heavy backpack. It was a long walk since he had missed the bus home from school. He was tired today, even worse than yesterday. The summer sun was frying him alive, forehead covered in drops of sweat, hair sticking to his forehead.
Wearing a sweater and jeans was probably not the most comfortable choice, but sure as hell the most secure one. He hated his legs, and his arms covered in purple and blue bruises, and how he wasn't fit at all, in fact, he had never entered a gym before.
Sometimes, he'd take the long way home. He tried to convince himself that it was for health reasons, that he needed the extra steps because all he did was stay in his room. Jungkook knew it was untrue. The only reason he took the long way home is because of his father and his unpredictable mood swings. Sometimes, he'd be in a good mood. He might even offer Jungkook the remote and the best spot in the sofa after a long school day.
Today, he was just so exhausted he even took a shortcut. He just needed a nap and something to eat. Opening the front door, he carefully stepped inside. His dad was on the back porch, smoking a cigarette and listening to the radio. Jungkook couldn't tell what kind of mood he was in. When he went to get something to eat, the fridge was nearly empty. Just some cheese and a few jars of jam. Maybe he could find some crackers to eat it with.
Looking closer at the cheese, it was expired. There were no crackers in the cupboard either. He had to approach his dad and see what mood he was in. Slowly sliding the glass door open, he called out with his softest voice:
"Dad?" His voice quivered.
His father turned around abruptly, seeing his son in the doorway. "What do you want now? I can't drive you to school if that's what you're gonna ask me. If you missed the bus you can walk." Jungkook heard his voice getting more irritable towards the end of the sentence.
He had to be so so careful.
"Uh, no... I just got home from school." He stopped to think for a while and his dad raised his eyebrows. "There's no food in the fridge. I was just gonna remind you that you need to go to the grocery store."
Jungkook´s father stood up, pushing his chair back.
"Who are you to tell me what I need to do?" He came closer and Jungkook braced himself. "You're just like your useless mother. Can't do anything on your own." He hadn't raised his voice yet.
"Sorry... M´sorry..." Jungkook muttered underneath his breath. At some point in his life he stopped defending his mom. It was somewhat true. She was useless, at least to him. She had ran away from her husband, Jungkook´s father, and started a new family with a nice husband. She deserved all of that at the time and promised to come back for Jungkook once everything was settled a few weeks later.
She never came.
"I can't believe I messed my life up so bad. Look at your mother running away from her own son, to think that I married her! Even worse, look at the son that I raised. Such a weak and sad boy. I can't even call you a man." He was yelling and Jungkook knew he was only seconds away from hurting him again.
Jungkook couldn´t even bother replying before his head hit the porch floor. He was still conscious and his dad pulled him up by the collar for another round.
When he was done, Jungkook limped his way into his bedroom and his dad sunk back into his chair and turned up the music even louder. He sat down in his bed and slowly took his hood off, wincing from the pain. His mind drifted elsewhere and landed on the thought of you. How your kindness and care could have calmed him down in seconds.
He picked up his phone and looked at the text from you from last night.
Y/N 9:17 pm - Yesterday
Hi Jungkook, how are you? ❤️ I can see that you're reading these :( Read 9:19
Jungkook 5:45 pm
Sorry. Hi. To be honest I could be better. How about you?
Y/N 5:49 pm
Happy you replied and sad to hear that you're not doing well. I really want you to come to my house tomorrow 🙏 I even told my parents that I made a new friend who's not related to my current friend circle and they couldn't be happier!! Pretty pretty pleaseee
Jungkook hesitated for a while. Considering his dad couldn't even grasp that it was 4 pm when he came home and not 7 in the morning makes him believe that he won't notice his absence for a few hours tomorrow. And even if he did, it would be worth it.
Jungkook 5:57 pm
Fineee
Y/N 5:58 pm
Yayy I can't wait!!
For the first time in a while, Jungkook wasn't dreading waking up in the morning.
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9 days left
Jungkook 1:22 pm
Should we meet a slight distance away from school or should I just go directly to your house?
Y/N 1:25 pm
What are u saying? Meet me by the main entrance and we'll walk together!!
And so he did. You walked out the main entrance with your entire friend group and you smiled brightly as your eyes met with his. He was caught off guard by your lack of shame. "See you guys tomorrow!" You smiled brightly, and all your friends stared back with a confused look as you skipped towards Jungkook.
"What are you doing?" Jihan exclaimed. You turned around to her and looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "I´m gonna hang out with my friend!" All of your friends looked at you funny and you pushed Jungkook along.
"Sorry they're being such idiots to you. I try to make them stop but I think they have some deep rooted insecurities." You chuckled after a while of silence.
"It´s fine." Jungkook forced a smile and looked you in the eyes.
"No, it's really not fine and you need to stop saying that." You came to a halt and he turned to you. He didn't say anything and you couldn't read his facial expressions.
He knew he was dead silent and you probably thought it was weird. Only right now was he taking in how beautiful this side of town was. Large mansion style houses with three cars parked outside each house, modern communal parks and clean streets. You fit in so perfectly here.
If he closed his eyes real tight and concentrated very hard he could imagine himself as a family man in one of these stunning houses. Maybe he could own a Benz that he could take his kids to school in. They would never take the bus and they'd always come home to open arms and a homemade meal on the table.
Warm and lighthearted conversations at the dining table with his wife and children, everything his mom and dad couldn't give him. A pat on the back if they fail a test and not a slap in the face. That's what he wanted to give his children.
Jungkook was lost in thought and so were you. You were stood there thinking about how stunningly pretty Jungkook was. When you were close to him it was almost heartbreaking how it hasn't been appreciated more. How his face belonged on a canvas. That's what you thought of him. You aren't the type to stay silent when you really mean something. For some reason the words just don't come out the right way when you're with him.
"Are your parents home?" He questioned as you kept walking.
"My mom probably. My dad will be home for dinner."
The rest of the evening goes smoothly. Your mom loves Jungkook and constantly gushes about how well mannered he is. Your dad appreciates that he only speaks when he is spoken to and that he has realistic ambitions. You spend most of your time in the upstairs living room playing a stupid board game and watching a dumb sitcom.
It's quiet most of the time but the both of you can feel that you enjoy each others company. Just simply co-existing and not being alone feels nice for the both of you.
As Jungkook is putting his shoes on to leave, your mom walks in. "Jungkook-ah, why don't you come over for dinner tomorrow as well? You're such a pleasure to have as a guest." She proposes, and he nods.
"If Y/N wants to spend time with me two days in a row." He chuckles slightly.
"You know I do."
He smiles, you exchanged goodbyes and he shuts the door behind him. Both you and your mom stay silent for a while before she breaks the silence.
"I hope this boy isn't a pity project to you, honey. You can obviously see that he's struggling and you can't just leave him behind when you're bored of him. He needs you more than you need him." She places her cold hand on your shoulder as she leaves you standing in the hallway.
You're not so sure that he really needs you more than you need him, because you so desperately need a friend.
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8 days left
"Jungkookie, can I tell you a secret?" You're situated on your queen bed with floral sheets, both sitting with your legs crossed like 5th grade girls. Jungkook looked up and raised an eyebrow curiously at you as he nodded slowly.
"I was hanging with the wrong crowd a while ago. Not that I'm hanging out with the right crowd now, but you get the expression." You chewed your bottom lip nervously before you continue. "You know when I left school for a month to go to the Caribbeans?"
He lifted his eyebrows and widened his eyes in a "Yes... And?" type of way.
"I wasn´t in the Caribbeans. I was in rehab. An old friend of mine overdosed and I had to get drug tested. I tested positive on coke and my parents shipped me straight off to rehab." His expression softened as he placed a hand on your knee just like you had done to him a few days earlier.
"I was so mad at the time, I wanted to get emancipated from my parents. Today, I'm grateful. Grateful that they helped me so I didn't have to suffer the same fate as my friend." You sigh so deeply you could feel tears stinging in your eyes, but you managed to keep them down.
"Why´d you do it? Take the drugs I mean?" Jungkook asked ever so carefully, and you knew he only meant well.
"I guess I wanted to feel something." You shrug. "I think that´s why everyone does drugs in one way or another. To either feel or not feel." You smile sheepishly.
"What's your secret?" Feeling a little vulnerable and naked, you divert the attention to him. Maybe you're hoping to hear something about his dad. If he hurts Jungkook. That's what you suspect by the clothes Jungkook wears in this hot weather. How he always tugs at his sleeves.
"I want to study nursing." You stare at him and he knows it not as interesting as what you told him. "I haven't told anyone, ever. Maybe it's not what you wanted to hear but to me it's a secret." He stared down in his lap, not meeting your gaze. Chipping at the loose skin around a sore on his hand.
"That's really cool Kook-ah. I'm happy I'm the first to know." He looks back up at you. "Where have you applied?"
"I applied to PNU but tuition wise I think INJE or Dong-A is more realistic."
All of the universities he has applied to are all in Busan and you swore you could hear your own heart shatter. "Busan, really?"
"My aunt lives there and offered to let me stay with her for the first years of my studies." He chimed happily. "I guess I don't have the best relationship with my dad."
You decided not to push it, not to ask any questions quite yet.
"How about you Y/N-ah?" You liked the way your name slipped of his tongue so gently.
"I´ve already accepted my spot at Yonsei. I'm gonna study dentistry, so I guess we'll be in the healthcare field together." You smile, but you can't help that you're looking quite disappointed. In some ways you were hoping for Jungkook to be your forever friend, not a friend you occasionally see whenever you're in each others cities.
"When are you leaving for Busan?" You question.
"After summer, I guess."
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7 days left
The empty desk in the classroom makes your insides feel like they're gonna twist and turn and send your breakfast back up your throat. His empty desk.
The two of you had grown abnormally close over the past few days, texting all night and spending the daytime together in some kind of way. Maybe it's because neither of you know how healthy friendships are supposed to be paced, you feel like you've been friends forever.
The entire day went by and all you heard was the tuned out noise of your loud friends yelling across the lunch table with nothing interesting to say at all. Only shit talk and gossip. There's always a new guy or girl to talk shit about. Usually, you wouldn't participate in the chitchat, so they didn't notice your sullen mood today.
No matter how much you tried to paint yourself as a saint or a saviour, you only saw an accomplice when you looked in the mirror. You had the power to make them stop picking on so many people, in some way, they saw you as their leader. Maybe they'd abandon you at some point, but wouldn't it be worth it?
Despite the fact that you never encouraged it, you never stopped them either. So you weren't better than them in any way although you liked to believe so. You liked the validating feeling of them obeying the things you told them to do, and you guessed that´s why you're too scared to confront them. You're scared that they'll rebel against you and leave you behind.
Y/N 11:21 am
Kook-ah, where are u?
Jungkook 11:24 am
At home The walk back from your house gave me a cold I think
Y/N 11:25 am
Oh no :( Get well soon and text me tn!! <3
You knew he was lying and you could feel your heart hurting from lunch time till you were in bed staring at the ceiling. "Honey! Dinner is ready!" Your mom yelled from downstairs, and you barely heard it through your door.
"Not hungry!" You yelled back, continuing the intense stare-off with your ceiling. Your mind explored deep and dark places when you were alone. Letting your mind slip back to your past or the worst experiences throughout your life was very typical of you to do.
The text message you sent to Jungkook is left unread. Until it isn't anymore.
Jungkook 8:21 pm
I really need you right now
You started blankly at the screen, heart pounding in your chest whilst typing your message.
Y/N 8:21 pm
Ofc, where r u???
Jungkook shared his location with you for 1 hour
You raced down the stairs, and your parents looked at you confusedly as you rushed past them and put on your running shoes in the hallway. You so badly wished you had your license. Darting out the door and slamming the door behind you, you weren't thinking straight. The air was cold for a summer night, but it was still bright out.
Jungkook lived on the other side of Goyang, a city right outside Seoul that you both resided in. Walking would probably take you 45 minutes at least. You didn't care. The wind ran through your hair as your breath was pacing. You made awfully loud noises as it was starting to get tiring. You refused to stop running, you couldn't stop running. Your body wouldn't let you.
The location Jungkook sent you was a park, and you guessed it was close to his house. Sometimes you picked up your phone for directions but you never stopped running, you only slowed down to a jog. A faint iron taste was present in your mouth and you were heaving for air, but he needed you.
Someone finally needs you.
You ran across busy roads, cars honking and people yelling out their car windows after you. At some point you even fell and twisted your ankle, but it only slowed you down slightly. At some point you start thinking of other means of transportation you could've turned to to get to him. This felt more rewarding.
"He needs me!" You yelled out like a crazy woman to motivate yourself as you picked up your pace.
"Your destination is 1 minute away." Your phone said from your back pocket. You looked around, and a bench with a silhouette sitting on it caught your eye. You ran over, head banging and feet sore.
You stopped abruptly in front of him, trying to catch your breath. You met his gaze. His teary-eyed gaze. All you could do was throw your arms around him and hold him ever so tightly. He sniffled into your cardigan and held you close.
He was gonna be okay. You didn't ask any questions that night.
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6 days left
You were nibbling on a mozzarella stick your mom had packed in your lunchbox. Everyone else was eating the cafeteria food, but you couldn't stand the nauseating creamy pasta they served every other week. All your friends were talking about something you couldn´t focus on. Suddenly a few girls rushed over and shouted your name.
"YN-ah!! They're fighting over you!" You recognised a few of the girls; Jisoo, Heejin and Soomin. They had math class with you, and god, they were loud. Loud but kind. They´d always include you in their conversations since none of your friends were in that class.
You shook your head trying to come back to your senses. "Who is fighting over me?" You blurted out.
"Moonbin made the first punch but he punched back!" Heejin shook your shoulders and made you come with her. "Can you believe it?" She spoke yet again, dragging you down the hallway, your friends were right behind you.
"Who is the other guy?!" You refused to keep walking before they told you.
"Jungkook, obviously! He punched back!" They almost laughed in disbelief.
Jungkook. He was defending himself against Moonbin. The thought sent shivers down your spine. Moonbin was a self proclaimed professional in bathroom fighting. He'd fight anyone for any reason he could think of, just for the fun of it. He didn't leave Jungkook alone when you told him, in fact, it probably provoked him even more that you stood up against him a few days back.
The girls pulled you around the corner and into the mens bathroom. Moonbin had Jungkook by his collar, his nose was bleeding and there was blood on his blue shirt. He didn't look scared though. He looked completely and utterly numb. Moonbin turned around to see you in the doorway, and his face was pretty bruised up too considering the punch had only been thrown minutes ago.
"Moonbin, please stop!" You nearly screamed, choking on a sob. It only infuriated him more and he threw a gut punch at Jungkook. He winced in pain, and you let out a squeal as you could feel it slightly in your own stomach. The pain.
Taehyung came up behind you and you turned to him. "Please, for the love of god, stop them. For me." The tears were running down your face already, and he´d do anything for you if you asked. Taehyung rushed over and separated the two, and a few others who were watching helped hold Moonbin back. You followed close behind, and watched Jungkook slide down against the wall.
"Make them leave, please." You pleaded with Taehyung, and he obliged. He told everyone to get out as you fell to the floor next to Jungkook. You placed your hand on the cut on his lip and wiped the blood off.
"I´m so sorry. So god damn sorry." You sobbed uncontrollably at this point, and he was the one to comfort you when he was the one who was hurt. "Stop apologising." He held you this time.
"I keep making things worse for you. I act like some kind of saviour when I do the exact opposite." His gaze softens.
"It's worth it to me." He says, running his hands through your hair.
"You're worth it to me." You barely hear him saying it, but it's loud enough for you to hear. A soft, pained whisper.
"I think you're the best thing that ever happened to me." You reply.
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5 days left
Jungkook was seated on the ottoman, his face covered in band aids and strips. You were twirling around outside the dressing room in a white summery maxi dress. "What about this one?" You question, doing an extra twirl.
"It's nice." He shrugs, letting his eyes wander down your body starting from the top. How the dress hugged you in the completely right places. Your hips and waist looked amazing, and he so badly wanted to touch you. Without the dress if he could, but he'd be more than satisfied with it on.
Your expression saddened as your mouth formed a frown. "Okay, should I be completely honest?" He asked seriously.
"Should I be scared?" You laughed. "Go ahead."
"I think it's beautiful. It's perfect. You're perfect." He said sheepishly. He meant it although he hesitated. You were so perfect. Jungkook hadn't been to the Louvre ever before, but he was sure that a painting of you would attract more attention than the Mona Lisa ever could.
He was sure people would travel from every corner of the world to see your face, even in a painting. Everyone who were lucky enough in person should be thanking the universe for blessing them with the opportunity.
"Really?" You beamed, heart pounding. "Is it okay for graduation?" You look down at yourself hesitantly, the cleavage of the dress maybe dipping down a bit too low.
"More than okay."
The sales assistant came to check up on you and her eyes lit up when she saw you in the dress. "It's gorgeous. Absolutely stunning. I think you need this."
"Honestly, I do too after such positive feedback." You giggled lightly. "Can you take his measurements and pick out a suit for him as well please?" You point at Jungkook seated on the green velour ottoman.
"Me?" He was flustered and looked you dead in the eyes.
"Yes, you silly." You smiled softly.
"Can I talk to you for a minute?" He desperately pleaded with you with his eyes and pulled you aside.
"Y/N I can't afford this. I don´t know if you think that I have more money than I do but I seriously have to scrape together money for a new hoodie from H&M."
"No, god. I´m not making you pay when I dragged you all the way over here. Consider it a graduation gift. If not, salary for being my personal shopping assistant." You nudged his shoulder playfully.
"Look, I´ll wear some black pants that sort of look like suit pants and the school uniform shirt. I can't let you do this." He almost pushed you against the wall as he grasped both your shoulders. Unbothered, you pushed his hands off you.
"Can´t let my date wear something simple as that to graduation. My grandparents are gonna frame the pictures of me and you're gonna be in them. I want you to feel confident that day. You deserve it." You pull him in for a hug.
You walked back to the sales assistant. "Will you take him to get his measurements?" She nodded, and now it was your turn to sit on the ottoman. He ended up trying on a few suits, and you landed on one that the both of you really liked. You could see him sweat when looking at the price tag but you reassured him with your soft smile.
"Get changed and we'll go pay." He agreed and disappeared behind the curtain. You fiddled with your phone for a while before going to browse the store. Understandingly, a suit that was so perfect for his figure would take a while to get out off, but you went to check on him.
Between the crack of the curtain and the wall you saw him. His upper body undressed as he touched a wound. His whole back covered in purple, red and dark bruises. You had watched enough medical shows to know that they weren't from yesterday. He had more scars and bruises visible than skin.
He saw you in the mirror and turned around. He looked scared to death. Like you were gonna hurt him as well. "Y/N, what the fuck?" You stood frozen. You were scared too. All your suspicions confirmed. Sometimes, late at night, you'd comfort yourself thinking that you were overreacting.
He threw on his sweater and pushed you to get past. You almost stumbled. Before you knew it, you saw him outside the store window, nearly running to get away. Get away from you and your invasive self. He had hung his suit up carefully, and defeatedly you took it with you to the counter where your dress was laying.
"Can you get the suit delivered? I did something stupid and he's not gonna accept it if I turn up on his doorstep." The cashier understandingly nodded. You took your phone out as you waited for the cashier to finish adding up your total and bagging it up.
Y/N 3:12 pm
I´m so sorry I keep saying sorry but I really do mean it. I'm not gonna bring it up, ever. If you wanna talk I'm here but I´ll keep my mouth shut till you tell me to open it up. Please don´t close down on me.
"Excuse me, miss?" The cashier waved his hand as you had zoned out completely. "Sorry. Your total will be one point four million won." the cashier pointed to the terminal. (About a 1000 USD) "Delivery fees included." You swiped your card and he handed you a beautiful bag with gold writing.
Parts of you wishes that the suit was in the bag and Jungkook was walking nervously next to you.
You had to give him space.
3 days left
All of Sunday had passed without any replies from Jungkook. Your dad dropped you off outside school that morning. You weren't sure if Jungkook would be at school today, but you were dressed up pretty just in case. A pretty frilled blouse only for special occasions.
Like the gods had answered your prayers, you saw him. You met his eyes and he walked over to you. "Y/N-ah, I forgive you. I don't have time for anything else, I´m sorry."
"Time? What do you mean?"
"My aunt called yesterday. She needs help at her restaurant in Busan and asked me if I wanted a summer job and to move in earlier." He was studying your face to see your reaction.
"Jungkook-ah, no..." You whined.
"You of all people should know why I want to leave. Especially after what you saw." He tried to reason with you.
You threw your arms around him in the busy school hallway. "I know." You whispered. "It's okay."
"I just wished we had more time." You smiled bittersweetly as he pulled away. He wanted nothing more. He wanted nothing more than to stay with you forever.
"I got the suit." He changed the subject.
"Are you mad?" You gave him your best puppy eyes.
"Why would I be mad about a great graduation gift?" He laughed wholeheartedly, and his laugh filled your heart with warmth and gave you butterflies. He was making you all jittery.
Why?
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2 days left
"Pour me another shot Jungkook-ah!" You held your shot glass in front of him as he smiled at you, pouring soju into your glass. You swung your arms around, singing to the music playing at the restaurant.
"Slow down." He said as he called for the waitress to take the soju away. "That's all for tonight, alright?" He patted your head. You liked the confidence boost the alcohol had given him. How he so openly flirted with you, and it satisfied some deep rooted needs of yours.
He paid for the drinks which you didn't notice in your state. "Let's walk home to sober up. We have school tomorrow."
"I think it's sad that we won't go to school together. We were totally acting like college students today and it was so fun. Drinking on a school night feels crazyyy..." You slurred and he pulled you closer as you almost stumbled over your own feet.
"Yeah, it is sad."
The rest of the walk was silent. Stopping outside your house, you felt a few raindrops hit your cheeks and head. Jungkook cursed under his breath. He had a forty minute walk home. "Do you have an umbrella I could borrow by any chance?" He asked shyly, retorting back to his humble, sober self for a second.
"No. Don´t wanna." You crossed your arms. "My parents are away for their anniversary. Won't be home until graduation." Tugging at his denim jacket sleeve, signalising for him to come inside.
"I shouldn't. I should go home." He refused.
"Sure, you should go home, but do you want to go home?" He looked so gut-wrenchingly sexy underneath the street lights, hair ruffled and a tired look on his face. Shirt unbuttoned so you could see his golden tanned chest.
"No." He replied, and you pulled him inside by his sleeve. You took off your shoes and for a few seconds you just stood looking at each other. Something was in the air. Something you had never felt with Jungkook before. It wasn't comfortable anymore, it was electric.
You needed him so bad and you were about to throw yourself at him. He beat you to it, he grabbed you and pinned you up against the wall. Your lips crashed and you didn't have time to catch a breath. You let out a few desperate moans to catch your breath as you both stumbled down the hallway over to the staircase.
As you were making your way up the stairs, you fell on your butt down on one of the steps and he got on top of you. You chuckled between the desperate kisses as he lifted you up the stairs. He was stronger than you thought.
He went down the upstairs hallway with you in his arms and into your bedroom with an open door. He threw you on the bed and wasted no time in trying to take off your shirt. "Kook-ah, I need you so so bad." You whimpered in despair, rutting your hips forward.
"I´ll make it worth it." He smirked as he kissed you. While kissing you he started unbuttoning your pants and you helped him. You were all exposed to him and he was completely clothed. You looked each other in the eye and slowed down. He started with his jacket. He hesitated with the shirt.
"Can I?" You looked up at him. He nodded slowly. You gently took his t-shirt off, and he felt incredibly exposed with all his bruises on display. You only smiled as you placed kisses on his chest, trailing down his stomach.
He took his pants off on his own and you handed him a condom. He slowed down again and you raised an eyebrow. Suddenly, a thought popped into your head.
"Kook-ah... Are you like.. a virgin?" you ask innocently.
He nods slowly again. "Don't treat me any differently than you would with an experienced guy. Some guidance might be nice but-" He says, panicked. You interrupt him. "So you want this?" You take his hand and you embrace it with your own.
"I want this more than anything." He kissed you again.
"I´ll take care of you." You bit the wrapper open and he put the pieces together as to how you're supposed to put it on.
"Aren't you supposed to do some sort of foreplay before?" He questioned awkwardly.
"It´s usually for the girls´ sake. I don't need that. I need you inside of me." You moaned, leading his body closer to yours. He let his hands slide up the side of your waist before carefully going inside you.
"Okay, do what you want with me." You smirk slyly as you whisper. "I'm yours."
"I know. And I will." He thrusts harder into you and your moans come out in unison. Tears start running down your cheeks and he checks up on you by stopping.
"Please don't stop." You cry out, placing your hands on his back. "Please."
He obliges and doesn´t stop until both your bodies give out. You fall asleep like that, bodies close and sweaty.
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1 day left
This wasn't what you two planned at all. You both were pacing around your bedroom, refusing to met each others eyes. The alcohol had clearly gotten to you two yesterday and you the air was different. It wasn't comfortable like usual, or electric last night. It was uncomfortable. You felt like you shouldn't have let him yesterday. You wanted him to lose his virginity with someone he was in love with, not a friend he's been close to for 2 weeks at most.
Jungkook didn´t regret losing his virginity to you, not all. You were careful and tender, but you didn't treat him any differently like he asked you not to do. He was ashamed because he thought you would regret it. That he took advantage of you in your drunken state, and that you wouldn't touch him like that sober.
You threw yourself down on the bed and let out an exasperated sigh. He looked to you and it felt like he was almost choking on his own heartbeats.
"Do you regret sleeping with me?" He asked gently with a sullen tone, sitting down on the bed next to you. You sat up startled when you had processed what he said through your throbbing headache.
"What? No no no..." You cupped his face in your hands and stroked his cheek with your thumb. "I don't regret anything about last night, Kook-ah." You looked distraught, like you really meant it, like you were shocked by what he had said.
"Good. Cause I don't either." He placed his hand on yours. Jungkook took the hand you had placed on his face and placed it on his knee. He drew circles on your palms and made little hearts.
"Whatever this is.. Whatever we're doing right now; I don't want it to end." You smiled teary-eyed. He was leaving you and you didn't know what to do.
Jungkook wasn´t great with this kind of stuff. The touching, the loving and the expressions of love. All he did was nod quietly, and you knew by the look in his eyes that he felt the same.
You didn't know how to identify the feelings you felt for Jungkook. Throughout you've had boyfriends and best friends but none of them made you feel what you were feeling right now. Here, with him.
You had slept with a few guys before, and you've also slept with a best friend before. Taehyung, less than a year back. That felt weird, but not weird in the way Jungkook made you feel.
Not weird in a bad way.
"Y/N... I have to go. My dad´s at a meeting with the department of labor for a few hours and the moving trucks are coming in the meantime." He grimaced, wanting you to understand why he was leaving you high and dry at 6 am like this.
"Aren't you coming to school today?"
"No, I need to do this now or else I don't know how I´ll get out without him finding out." He put on his denim jacket and kissed you on the cheek. "I´ll see you tomorrow."
"If you're moving your stuff out today, where are you staying tonight?" You get up from the bed and you place yourself in front of him.
"Honestly, I'm not sure."
"Stay here." You propose, smiling warmly.
God, he loved that smile. He loved you.
That morning, after he left you with your own thoughts again, you walk to school with a skip in your step. Taehyung greets you by the entrance and asks you why you're so smiley and weird today. You tell him that it's just one of those days.
He knows why you're smiling and he hates it. It's because of him. Taehyung can do nothing but observe as you make it so clear to him that you are not his and he is not yours.
You spend the rest of the school day thinking. You had lunch in the cafeteria with your friends and spent most of the time chatting with Taehyung about trivial stuff. University, summer and graduation. He was also staying in Seoul for school and was attending SNU law. You were impressed, not knowing that Taehyung had been able to get his grades up to study law.
"My parents wanted to send me to Harvard but contrary to popular opinion, I think it sounds overrated. I like the idea of being a student in Seoul." Taehyung explained, making you nod your head in agreement.
"I get that. There's just something about Seoul." He smiled as he stole a spoonful of your seaweed soup.
"Hey!" You ruffled his hair, knowing he had spent all morning doing it as revenge. He flung a spoonful of rice at your face and you laughed almost hysterically as you managed to inhale a grain of rice.
After a while you're laughing calmed down and your friends had stopped giving you two a weird look. "Do you have an apartment yet or are you commuting back and forth from your house?" He inquires, stirring his food around as fidgeting.
"I was thinking of moving out but I just can't find the right apartment. There's an open house next week that I want to go to." You explain, and he nods along.
"Is Jungkook coming with you?" He asks, now fiddling with his own thumbs.
"Uh.. no." He looks up at you. "He's moving to Busan tomorrow." You elaborate, and a look of pity flashes across his face.
"Oh."
"Yeah..." Taehyung smiled awkwardly. "So I'm gonna have to go all alone." You were insinuating that he should come with.
"I´ll go with you." He suggests. "If you want me to."
You nod.
It was starting to get dark out when you were seated in your windowsill with the window open. The window from your room had direct view down to the street and your frontyard. As promised, he was there, outside your door, waving up at you.
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The day of
Jungkook was trying to curl your hair. After a few burns and a little cursing, he was starting to get the hang of it. You were sitting in front of the vanity with him standing behind you and while he was curling your hair, you were doing your makeup. The two of you were both in bathrobes, your outfits laying neatly on your bed.
"This stuff is hard. I'm sweating in fear of burning myself again." He snickers, and you laugh along.
"I´ll blow on your burns when you're done." You smiled at him in the mirror and you saw his reflection blushing slightly. "When is your train leaving tonight?"
"I'm taking the KTX train around 8 pm so I´ll be in Busan before midnight." He announces, and you feel realisation creeping up on you. Sure, the train ride isn't that long with the speed trains, but he's still far away and you're both gonna be busy. Your parents booked you a graduation trip to Greece with them and then you´re flying straight to Aiya Napa with a few friends, including Taehyung.
"Okay." Is all you manage to utter with a sigh at the end.
"You'll come with me to the train station, right?" He questions.
"Of course." You smile.
He finishes curling your hair and you add the finishing touches to your makeup. "All done." Jungkook grins proudly.
"It´s really pretty, thank you." You shake out the curls to see them properly and run your fingers carefully through them to loosen them up.
"I´m gonna go change." He said, gesturing towards your bathroom.
"Okay, let me do your hair when you're done please!" You request, giving him the puppy eyes that you give everyone when you want something your way.
"Maybe." Jungkook shuts the door behind him.
A few minutes later he came back out, all dressed up. Except the tie that he was holding in his hand. "I can't tie a tie." He admitted ashamedly, letting a slight chuckle escape his lips.
You turn around to see him and you're stunned. He looked great in the white lights in the store dressing rooms, but in this light, he looked gorgeous. The morning summer sun shining in through your window, hitting Jungkook like a spotlight.
Getting up from your chair and walking over to him, your heart was pounding a hundred beats a second. You couldn't shake the weird unidentifiable feeling that you felt when you were close to him. You swung the tie around his neck and tied it tight, but not too tight.
"I´ll send you a video tutorial if you want to know later, but we're gonna run late if we don't hurry up." You smile, patting his shoulder., signaling that you´re all done.
You point your finger to the chair in front of the vanity and he sits down. "Let's see. Hand me your gel." Running your fingers through his hair, he closes his eyes in pleasure.
"It's really nice when you touch my hair." He hums in delight.
You alternate using the comb and your hands and soon you finish up. "You like?" You ask with a satisfied grin on your face.
"I love." He almost blurts out a "you." at the end but he manages to hold it in.
"Now I need to put my dress on." You let your bathrobe fall to the floor, now standing there in your white lace underwear. Jungkook rapidly turns away from you and you laugh.
"After what we've done you really don't need to turn around." You smirk confidently, knowing you're gonna make him flustered. He turns back around, almost shamelessly to watch you.
You slip into the dress and you struggle with the zipper in the back. He notices your struggle and gets up to help you. "Let me." He offers and you would never say no.
He turns you around so he's facing your bare back. He can't help but let his hands caress your back for a while, up and down, back and forth. Seductively, he pulls the zipper up slowly and you can feel his fingers brush up your back as the dress tightens.
Getting ready to leave, Jungkook grabs his little backpack of necessities since all his things are on their way to Busan. After you've celebrated for a while you'll follow him to the train station to say your goodbyes.
Your parents drive you to the ceremony and you both hurried over to get your cap and gowns. The ceremony went nicely, and both you and Jungkook stood posing in your parents photos with your diplomas in hand.
"Kiss her on the cheek Jungkook-ssi!" Your mom laughed and you looked to Jungkook who was looking at your dad with a frightened look on his face.
He placed a soft kiss on your cheek as your dad jokingly shook his head. "What a pretty picture." She fawned when she looked at her camera. "Jinho, come see." Your mother gestured at your father and his lips curled slightly upwards before he pulled himself together.
The whole moment felt bittersweet and went by like you were thinking back on a blurry memory. Giggles, smiles, hugs and joy were the most prominent things in the blur that you felt.
You and Jungkook collected a few of the people who hadn't left school yet and invited them out for drinks. You purposely picked people who you weren't close with, except for Taehyung.
You invited Jisoo, the girl from your math class, a boy you knew from Forensics club and a few others you hadn't spent that much time with. Stumbling down the street to a nearby restaurant, you meet many other classmates. You get situated at a table and you share embarrassing memories from high school.
"Jisoo, do you remember when you got that love letter from Sungkwan and you went around telling-" One of the guys at your table started before Jisoo interrupted.
"Stop! I've never been so embarrassed in my life!" She laughed as she reached across the table to give him a little smack on the cheek. You look over to Jungkook who's staring out into the air, ignoring the constant calls from his father.
You take his hand under the table and you stroke his knuckles with your thumb. His shoulders fall down a little from their tense position when you touch him.
The weird feeling gets you again.
You know that Jungkook doesn't share as many fond memories from school as the rest of you around the table do, but you try your best to include him in the conversations when you can.
"Can we go outside?" Jungkook requests. "I have a memory I want to share." You look at him with a questioning look but you oblige and follow him outside.
You're standing outside the restaurant, feeling the summer breeze blow through your hair and your dress billowed to the point where it looked like a fairytale gown.
He gulps. He has always thought you were the prettiest girl in the world, but standing in front of him now, you looked angelic. He silently thanked the universe with blessing him with your presence. That he had gotten the opportunity to touch you and to feel you like he had.
"Y/N. I want to share a fond memory of mine that involved you, many years back." He spoke so formally you almost laughed at him, but you controlled yourself and nodded along. "The year I turned eleven, I invited the whole class to my birthday party. I paced around the floor as the clock ticked past six and no one had showed." He pauses and looks at you.
"I had given up all hope that anyone was gonna show, until you knocked on the door with a birthday card. You were the only person that showed that night and I've never forgotten about it." He sighed and his chest heaved for air.
"I hope you don't think it's weird but I keep the card on my nightstand." He admits ashamedly.
You don´t say anything, you just pull him in for a hug. The two of you stay like that for a while before you go back inside. It's seven pm when you go back inside and your heart feels heavy when you see the time on your phone.
The conversation goes on but you're so deep in your thought that you don't participate. It's hitting you real hard. Jungkook nudges you and shows you his phone with a bus schedule on it. It leaves from the bus stop outside the restaurant in eight minutes. You start saying your goodbyes to everyone at your table before you walk outside.
It´s silent as you're waiting for the bus, silent when you're sitting on the bus to the train station and it's silent when you get off.
"Platform seventeen..." He mumbles to himself and points you both to the right. You could see the sign with the little seventeen on it from afar but you so desperately want to point him in the other direction. Make him miss the train so he has some extra time to think about leaving.
a/n: so sorry for interrupting but if u want u can read the next part listening to the song I listened to while writing (taking pictures of you - the kooks)
He grabs your wrist and leads the way when you hesitate. Platform seventeen is right in front of you now, and the train is already there. He's looking you straight in the eyes, dressed in a suit and hair done all neatly you swore you could pass out.
You knew it was over although it never really started. All you did was spend fourteen days together, moving extremely quickly forward from strangers to being in bed together. You liked those fourteen days, you loved those fourteen days and you hated those fourteen days.
"I have to go." His lips quivered and your eyes stung with tears prickling in your eyes. There came the weird feeling again. This time, it didn't creep up on you, it hit you like a wave hits you at the beach, the type that makes you lose your balance and swallow a whole lot of water, struggling to get a breath of air. The feeling was unfamiliar to you and it felt uncomfortable.
"I really liked these fourteen days." You smiled genuinely through your tears. He pulled you in for another hug, less stiff than the ones before. It felt good to hug him, to get that last inhale of his cologne and the scent of his shampoo.
"Me too. I loved them." He spoke into your hair as he took in your scent for the last time in a while as well. "Visit me, please Y/N."
"Of course. I´ll come toward the end of the summer." You pulled away from the embrace to look him in the eyes. Before you knew it, you were kissing. The conductor yelled out that the train was leaving and he was the one to pull away this time. You took his hand and as he walked away his hand slipped away from yours.
He stepped on the train and you saw him through the window, never losing eye contact. You stood still on the platform as you were reduced to tears. The dark mascara that was running down your cheeks were the perfect contrast to the gorgeous white dress you were wearing. His denim jacket draped over your shoulders and your strappy baby pink heels in your left hand.
You were straight out of a movie.
As the train started moving, the feeling grew stronger as it finally hit you. You knew what you were feeling, and you had been denying it for too long.
It was love.
You were in love with Jeon Jungkook and he was leaving.
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a/n: honestly that's the end but if u want to read a sneak peek of part 2 then scroll down a little!! join the taglist here if u want to be tagged in part 2.
The Epilogue
Day 1140
It was late at night and your friends had dragged you out of your apartment to go to some stupid club that had just opened in Gangnam. You weren't friends with any of your old friends anymore, just Taehyung.
You and Taehyung could be considered more than friends but less than lovers. It was complicated and not exclusive so you thought that you might as well find someone to spend the night with. He was sleeping with other women, so you felt like you should as well.
The music was blasting way too loud from the speakers and it was awfully crowded on the dance floor. You finally made your way to the ambient bar that was on the quieter side. Club standard quiet, of course. You ordered a gin and tonic to loosen up and have some fun.
The first year of university, you spent everyday partying and bringing new guys back to the apartment you shared with your best friend Hayoon. She eventually grew tired of it and so did you. You spent the second year dating, meeting new guys from Tinder or agreeing to blind dates that Hayoon arranged, and that didn't work out either.
By the time you started your third year you settled down with being Taehyung´s something. Sometimes, your mind would drift back to what you felt for Jungkook. You hadn't seen him in 3 years and you never visited him in Busan, but what you felt when you stood on platform seventeen is a feeling you'll never forget.
You cancelled your visit to Busan in the summer and promised to visit for fall break. By the time fall break came around, he wasn't picking up your calls. You kept calling for a few weeks and in anger and spite you blocked his number and never reached out again.
You asked the bartender for a straw just so you could stir the ice cubes around. Boredom washed over you after a while, so you moved seats to sit closer to the one window that wasn't shaded black. You saw the busy streets, girls with wobbly knees and high heels who held on to their boyfriends for support.
You were scouting the streets for something interesting to let your tired eyes focus on. Just like fate, like it was written in the stars, he was there. Jungkook was there. Rubbing your eyes and closing them for a few seconds didn't make him go away. You got off the barstool and picked up your bag, ready to rush out into the street.
You didn't know what to say or how to approach him, but you had to do something. Maybe take his hand and lead him away, let him say the first sentence and really let his voice soak in. Let his words surround you and his hands touch you.
You walked as fast as you could out the door in your own high heels. You were like those couples, he was missing the girl in high heels and you were missing the boy to support yourself on. You stood frozen on the sidewalk as he stood across the road from you. A girl leapt into his arms, dark raven curls bouncing as he caught her and pulled her in for a warm embrace.
Only now did you take your time to process how Jungkook looked. He was buff and muscular with a tattoo sleeve. Only in a t-shirt at night, his arms were free from any bruising. You were smiling like an idiot until you snapped back to reality and realised that he was holding someone else.
She kissed him,
and he kissed her.
fin.
(for now)
part 2 taglist
654 notes · View notes
snippy-tano · 1 year
Text
Old Injuries
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surprise! i’m back!
at least for this request anyways. this request came from a commenter on ao3! so thank you AnimeWeeb_2001!! basically they requested a one-shot with Hunter where the reader hurt her leg during a mission they were on together and kept it from Hunter until she literally collapsed and couldn’t walk anymore. basically some solid Hunter fluff.
and I am very happy to oblige! 
so here it is! hope you all enjoy it!
masterlist is here!
taglist is here!
tagging: @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life; @marvel-starwars-nerd; @mackstrut; @dissapointingpancake; @ahsokatano-thetogruta; @welcometothepedroverse; @padawancat97; @fractiouskat; @mandaloriandin; @bantha-shit; @badbatch-simp24; @katelynnwrites​; @s1st3r​; @leotatombs​; @torchbearerkyle​; @rain-on-kamino​; @the-navistar-carol​; @bombshe77​; @arctrooper69​; @social-mockingbird​; @littlebluebatbrat​; @get-wr3ckered​; @flowered-bicycles​; @idoubleswearimawriter​; @eris-k; @dangraccoon​
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The mission itself was meant to be easy. 
A quick in-and-out that didn’t require the entire Batch. Which is why it was only you and Hunter who went. And for the most part, it had been going smoothly. 
You had both split up to cover more ground and make sure exit routes were clear. Hunter had commed you moments before stating that his path was clear and he was heading to the rendezvous point. 
You had no sooner echoed your own confirmation of a clear path and turned off the comm when your foot stepped in a small hole and pain exploded throughout your leg. You instantly saw stars and your good knee hit the stone ground. 
You forced your eyes open and looked back, seeing a small cracked hole in the pavement. If you had been paying attention, it was absolutely avoidable. 
Back when you were a teenager, you injured your knee playing a game of boloball with some neighborhood kids. It was as simple as some torn ligaments and you had made a full recovery at that time. But occasionally, if it was particularly cold or if you slept strangely, it would ache. 
In this case, all it took was stepping in a hole for the condition to flare up in the worst possible way. You knew you didn’t tear anything, at least you were pretty sure. It didn’t quite feel as painful as it did the first time, so you were fairly confident that you only slightly re-injured your knee. 
But you had to admit, it kriffing hurt.
You let out a groan of pain, blinking your eyes to get rid of the fuzziness and tears. Your hand went to your knee, as you forced yourself to take a few deep breaths, trying to will the pain away or at least hope that it lessened to a more manageable level. But that was not happening. 
Kriff this was bad. 
Really really bad.
Hunter’s voice calling your name over the comm dragged you out of your fog. “-you okay? Are you there? Report. I’m at the rendezvous.” 
“‘M fine.” You choked out a response, grabbing your blaster and forcing yourself to your feet despite the agonizing pain. “I’m almost there.”
You stumbled to the edge of the alleyway, bracing your hand on the cool brick of a building. You took a few deep breaths, in through your nose and out through your mouth. When your vision focused and you could breathe again, you started moving. 
Each step was like agony. Your knee felt like it was on fire and every slight movement had pain shooting through your leg. It was far more intense than it had been in a long time, which worried you.
But you needed to focus. Hunter was relying on you for this mission. 
You would not fail.
Pain was an old friend. You had this under control.
You spotted a figure in the distance among the busy market and you forced another deep breath into your lungs. The figure turned and you met eyes with Hunter who gave you a nod as you approached. 
His eyes narrowed slightly. “Are you okay?” 
You willed your heart to stop beating so rapidly and your breathing to calm down. You plastered a small smile on your face. “I’m fine, just ready to get this over with.”
Hunter let out a soft chuckle. “You and me both. Come on.” 
He turned and headed into the crowd and you followed as closely as you could. The pain had not lessened in the slightest, in fact it had only gotten worse.
You may not have torn anything this time around, but if you kept walking on your leg, you just might end up reinjuring it. 
Stop. Focus.
Hunter entered a building and you stepped in after him, taking a glance around the darkened bar. He took a moment to gaze around the bar before walking towards a booth in the back corner. 
You headed for the bar, practically collapsing in a stool with a wince. A bartender appeared in front of you almost instantaneously.
“You look like you could use a drink.”
Normally you’d refuse. 
Now was not the time or place to have a drink. You were on a mission and needed to be completely sober. But the throbbing, stabbing pain in your leg was a powerful motivator. 
“Give me something strong.” You rasped out and the bartender grinned. 
“Coming right up.” 
While you waited, you again focused on your breathing. 
Kriff you were so stupid. How could you do this on a mission? Hunter was relying on you and you injured yourself. 
Kark.
A glass appeared in front of you and you gave the bartender a grateful look before lifting the glass and downing the amber liquid in one go. The burn down your throat momentarily distracted you from the pain in your leg. You could feel the warmth beginning to seep into your body and felt yourself take a shuddering breath. 
You glanced over at the corner of the bar and saw Hunter speaking quietly with the man in the corner booth. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it didn’t look like it was going poorly. 
At least not yet. 
You heard the sound of liquid being poured and turned to see the bartender refilling your glass. When he saw your confused look, he chuckled softly. “This one’s on the house. You look like you could use it.”
You gave him a quick grateful smile that he returned before stepping away to tend to other patrons seated at the bar. You looked at the glass in front of you, fingers playing with the cool condensation on the glass. 
You shouldn’t. 
Your first drink wasn’t nearly enough to get you even remotely tipsy, but you really shouldn’t be drinking. Not while on a job. 
But then you thought about your leg and the continuous stabbing pain. 
And you downed the next one. 
You pushed the glass away as the drink burned a path down your throat and again began to warm your limbs. You pulled out some credits, probably more than the first drink was for, but you wanted to repay the bartender at least something for his kindness. 
You felt the ghosting of a hand at your back and turned to see Hunter with a bag now slung over his shoulder. His eyes flicked to the empty glass, but he didn’t say anything. 
You stood up, clenching your jaw and the pain in your knee as it protested you standing on it again. The bartender gave you a small wave and you returned the gesture with a nod as you followed Hunter out of the bar. 
As soon as you were back in the crowd, Hunter began to speak. 
“Are you sure-“
“-did you get what we needed?” You interrupted and he hesitated for a moment. 
You were only here to “recover” something that had been “stolen” from Cid by someone she’d managed to piss off, which didn’t surprise you. You honestly weren’t even sure if it was Cid’s to begin with, but she was insistent and concluded that a small party would be better, hence why it was only you and Hunter.
Your contact, the man in the corner of the bar, had “stolen” what was “stolen” from Cid and offered it for a price that Cid deemed acceptable. It was a ridiculous mission and you’d make sure to tell her when you returned. 
“Yes. We can go.” 
You took another two breaths, in through the nose and out through the mouth. 
You both moved fairly quickly through the busy market streets, heading to where you had parked the Marauder. You were almost there, almost home free.
You could rest your knee and finally get off this planet.  
There was some movement in front of you and you looked up just in time to see two kids running through the street towards you. You barely had time to brace yourself before one of the kids ran into you, shouting an apology as they kept going. 
Normally, it would have been fine.
But normally you weren’t injured. 
You stumbled as a renewed pain shot through your leg and Hunter was quick to grab your arm, steering you away from the busy streets only a few turns away from where the Marauder was waiting. 
So much for the alcohol. 
Your uninjured knee hit the hard ground as you gasped for breath. 
“Hey, talk to me. What’s going on?” Hunter’s steady hand at the crook of your elbow was steadying in a way, but it also reminded you that you were in the middle of a mission and couldn’t afford for this to be happening right now.
“I’m fine, just give me a second.” You choked out, trying to push aside the continually growing pain. 
“What happened? Did you get hurt?” Hunter insisted. “Your heart rate is too erratic.” 
“My knee.” You hissed. 
You felt Hunter’s hand rest gently on your leg and you gasped as a flash of pain exploded through your leg. Your hand clamped on his wrist, as you inhaled sharply. 
“Don’t.” You choked out and he was quick to pull away, arms raised. 
“Can you walk?” He asked and you nodded. 
“Yeah, just give me a sec.” 
You took a few more deep breaths, feeling like the stupidest person in the galaxy for hurting yourself, even if it was an accident. After a few calming breaths, you gave a nod to Hunter and he looped an arm around you, helping you to your feet. 
Once you were standing, he kept his arm in place, supporting you as you wavered slightly. 
“Are you sure you can walk?” He asked and you gritted your teeth.
“Positive.” 
You had a feeling he knew you were lying, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he helped you hobble back out into the busy streets towards the waiting ship. Thankfully, not many of the crowd paid you any attention, so some of your pride was still intact.
You were right around the corner from the ship when you knee buckled beneath you. But this time, Hunter was ready, easily keeping you upright. Before you could protest, he looped an arm under your knees and lifted. 
You hissed in pain at your knee being jostled and Hunter breathed a quick apology.
“I told you I can walk.” You whispered as he moved quickly through the shipyard, the Marauder getting closer with every step. 
“This is faster.” Was all he replied. 
He was probably right.
Unfortunately. 
You made it to the ship and Hunter climbed the steps with ease, setting you down gently in a chair. He gave your face a quick once over as you waved him off. The door to the ship hissed shut as he left you and began starting the ship for take off. . You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on anything but the pain in your leg.
It wasn’t as harsh as before, but the throbbing was nearly unbearable and any movement had sharp pain shooting through your leg. 
The ship jolted and you inhaled sharply, cursing under your breath. 
A few moments later, as you were starting to feel like you could open your eyes again, you felt a gentle hand on your wrist. You looked up to see Hunter kneeling beside you, eyes soft in a way you only ever really saw him be with Omega. It had your heart clenching in your chest.
He gave your wrist a squeeze before he removed his hand and set down a medpack on the floor. As he riffled through it, he began talking. “What happened?”
“It’s an old injury. Normally it’s fine.”
“But not this time?”
“Apparently not.” 
Hunter nodded as he pulled out a stim and quickly administered it with only a few curse words. 
“When did it happen? Not the original injury, but this? Was it that kid?” He asked and you bit down on your lip.
You avoided his gaze until you heard him say your name softly. 
“Right after we split up to clear paths and check the perimeter. I misstepped.” You replied and he only let out a soft sigh. 
You knew that sigh. 
He did it all the time when Omega and Wrecker mention they put more mantell mix on the tab, or when Tech stays up all night without realizing it, or when Echo neglects to mention one of his prosthetics gets too stiff. 
It’s his “I’m disappointed sigh.”
And it’s never been directed at you. 
You’d always had sympathy for the others when on the receiving end of the sigh, but it was another thing entirely to know he was upset because of you. 
Kriff you’d have to apologize to the others. They were right. This is brutal. 
“You don’t have to hide these things from me.”
Okay. 
You were wrong. 
That statement was even more painful than his “I’m disappointed” sigh. 
“We needed to complete the mission, as stupid as it was. I wasn’t going to say anything because we couldn’t turn back. I knew we would finish it quickly and get back here where I could rest.” You said. “I know it’s stupid and I’m sorry for not saying anything. I just - I just didn’t want to compromise the mission.”
Hunter rubbed his forehead before sighing again. “You’re more important than the mission.” 
You felt a pang in your chest and took a shaky breath. 
“You got that? You can tell me these things.” He again said and you nodded softly. 
“I got it.” Your throat felt tight, but you responded. 
“Okay, now let’s see if we can patch up your knee.” Hunter pulled out the small medkit and you carefully sat yourself up fully, wincing at the sharp pain in your leg. “How did you hurt it initially? You mentioned an old injury.”
“I was a teenager. We were playing boloball in the streets and I tore some ligaments. It healed back then, but sometimes it flares up.” You said as he pulled out a brace and some bacta.
“How often does it flare-up?” 
You sighed. “Sometimes when it’s cold or I step weird it bothers me, but for the most part it’s fine.”
“Except for today.” Hunter asked with a bit of a smirk and you let out a breathless laugh.
“Except for today.” You confirmed and he shook his head. 
“Let’s get your boot off and see if we can get some bacta on your knee.” He said and you quickly leaned forward to untie your boots only for your hands to be batted away by Hunter’s. You watched, stomach swirling, as he very carefully untied your boot and removed it without jostling your leg too much. He then helped you very gently roll up your pant leg until it was slightly easier to access your injured knee. 
Hunter wiped off his hands on a damp towel before beginning to spread the bacta onto your slightly swollen knee.
You did your best to not think about just how gentle he was being or how much it made your heart thump in your chest. You knew Hunter would likely be able to hear any changes in your breathing or heart rate, so you just focused on keeping them both as even as possible. But you weren’t sure if you were succeeding. 
Hunter finished and while he washed his hands again in the small refresher, you slowly worked your pants back down over your leg since the bacta dried quickly. Hunter reappeared and pulled out the knee brace you happened to have lying around. He carefully secured it, helped you put your boot back on, and then assisted you standing up. 
You swayed slightly, Hunter’s hands quick to grab your arms and hold you steady as you bumped into him. You weren’t able to stop the loud thump of your heart in your chest. You were both eager to get out of such a charged situation and also unwilling to move at all. Your hands gripped his arms and you resisted the urge to sway closer. 
Hunter gave you a small smile before leaning forward, pressing his lips to your forehead. 
It was at that moment that you truly felt like you stopped breathing. Your eyes closed and you wished to live in this moment for the rest of your life. 
There was a sudden loud beeping from the cockpit and Hunter pulled away, clearing his throat. “Come on, we’re almost to Ord Mantell.” 
He stepped away, offering his hand. You looked at his hand before looking up at him. He looked shy, more timid than you had ever seen him. It had a smile spreading across your face. You placed your hand in his and he helped you hobble to the cockpit and take a seat in one of the pilot chairs. 
You gave his hand a squeeze before you let go and you felt your mood brighten further when you saw a faint darkening of his cheeks. 
You turned to look at the controls, helping Hunter with the landing sequence after you dropped out of the hyperspace, feeling lighter and happier than you had in a long time. 
Maybe the resurfacing of old childhood injuries weren’t a bad thing, because maybe, just maybe, they would lead to something new and exciting.
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iknwreid · 14 days
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sweet nothing – spencelle.
“industry disruptors and soul deconstructors and smooth-talkin' hucksters out glad-handin' each other and the voices that implore, “you should be doin' more" to you, i can admit that i'm just too soft for all of it"
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wc: 1.1k | disclamers: comfort. im thinking second season spencelle. | a/n: english is not my first language, i just really love spencelle and taylor swift. this song is literally them. text divider by cafekitsune.
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It was too much for her. This job was all Elle ever wanted: make her father proud, to do good, to arrest some crazy sons of bitches. But sometimes, just sometimes… It was too much. When she got home, she'd sit on her couch and stare off into the distance, her gaze lost, only her mind working, wondering if it was really worth it. It was hard to give up and it was not like her. She would never do that. Being the first female profiler in the BAU was not something to give up. And that's why she couldn’t afford to show her weakness to anyone. They would certainly misjudge her, she wouldn’t be good enough. Too soft.
Elle was soft. Tender, friendly, sweet. Sometimes a little awkward. Spencer could see that through the mask she wore. He could notice all her little details. She was too important to him, of course he would know her. Elle made Spencer feel like a whole person and not a crazy nerd with only that to show. She listened to him when he talked about anything, – “What a mind, Reid.” – even if she did not really understand, and he sat by her side when she wanted company but was not brave enough to say so. They were good for each other like no other. There were only a few words in the air, but it was just perfect for their connected minds.
Every now and then, one case would get rougher than the other, and it was inevitable not to let it affect her. Perhaps even impossible. Elle sat at her desk, Spencer in a chair beside her. They were silent for a moment, looking at the case file and writing all the horrors back into their memories. Spencer looked at her, tracing all her features and looking at her mysterious face that was glancing at what seemed to be nothing. She had recently cut her bangs. Reid found that lovely, it really suits her, he thinks. 
“Elle.” A voice they recognize echoes through the bullpen. Hotchner stands on the steps of the staircase with a serious look on his face. She stands up before answering. “Yes, Hotch?” she swivels her hips and walks towards him. Spencer watched the scene not quite so discreetly, his eyes fixed on the two familiar faces. He could see Hotchner opening his lips to say something, but he couldn’t hear what he was actually saying. He knew, however, that these words absolutely crashed Elle’s mind. She was an expressive person, and he definitely inferred the topic of conversation when her face turned into a miserable expression as her hands grabbed at her arms to hold onto something to keep herself from falling. Reid stood up without moving, but he was ready to if he had to. Not even a second later, all he saw was Elle leaving the bullpen, faster than ever before. Even faster than when they had vacations. His eyes searched for her, not wanting her to leave.
Spencer walked up to her and touched her on the shoulders as she stood in the hallway. “Hey, Elle?” His voice was soft and low, he did his best not to startle her. She turned to him, her eyes moist and an astonished expression on her face. “What happened there?” he dared to ask. She was silent, open-mouthed, as if searching for the right words.“He said I should have done more.” Greenaway said at the moment a tear welled up on her face. Spencer stared into her eyes, not knowing exactly what to say, in fact, not even knowing what he wanted to hear. “You've done more than enough, Elle.” His hands softened the touch in her shoulders, sliding down her arms and then over her hands, touching them lightly before crossing his arms. She looked down at the floor and nodded her head slightly. She was disappointed with herself. And she knew she should be doing more, but hearing that from another person was soul wrecking. Hotchner's words were like waves crashing on the shore. “No, he's right, Spencer.” 
It was natural for him to embrace her. He didn't even think about it, he just hugged her and tried to comfort her in a better way than with words. Spencer felt that words were a good way to comfort, but right now he needed the feeling that Elle was safe in his arms. The feeling that she wasn't going to leave and stay alone in her house thinking about leaving for the best of it. She didn't say in words that she had done this before, but he knew it was true. He had done it before, too. And they were so much alike that he could sense that his hunch was right. Elle didn't immediately respond to the hug, but just seconds after she felt him hugging her, she couldn’t resist the urge to feel him too. Her hands ran carefully over his upper back as she breathed in his scent, a mixture of black coffee and wood. It was so comforting, it felt like home. Not her house, but home, like going back to New York City after so many years. 
Spencer ran his hands briefly through her short hair after she released the hug; he wanted more, he felt so comfortable with her touch that he craved more. Every time he felt her close to him, he didn't care about the rest of the world, he didn't care if the end was coming or if everyone was up to something, he only cared about Elle. More than anything, he wanted her to be well. In fact, he needed her to be well. Despite that, Spencer didn't expect her to be fine. How could she? How could Elle be fine after everything that had happened?
“You're incredible, Elle. Don't let anything convince you otherwise.” He said, looking into her eyes again. It was a mesmerizing sight, Elle’s eyes. “Please.” Reid added with an almost stupid face, he liked her so much it was painful.
Elle didn't say anything, she just hugged him again because she wanted that feeling once more. Spencer never wanted nothing from her. It was a strange feeling when someone didn't always want 100% from you. All those things he said, not only today, but everytime she needed, – sometimes even when she didn't need it – Elle had never felt so loved. She trusted him so much. Every time she felt insane, Reid’s voice was in her head, whispering sweet nothings to her.
“I think I'm just too soft for all of this.” She said, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. He could feel her warm breath on his skin. Spencer pressed her against his body and sighed as he lightly stroked her back.
Spencer wanted to tell her how much he liked her, how much he loved her, despite what anyone said to her, being soft in this job wasn’t a flaw, it was actually a virtue. He didn't say anything, he didn't need to. She knew it, Elle knew it. It was their sweet nothings.
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foxilayde · 1 year
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Where’s My Goddamn Money? [Marc Spector x Fem!Vampire!Reader]
Word Count: 2.5k
Warnings: Blood drinking, lack of consent, groping, nudity, suggestive language. Minors DO NOT INTERACT
Summary: Marc Spector wants his wallet back.
A/N: I wrote this fic a long time ago, but removed it in a fit of angst shortly after posting. I’ve been thinking about Ula recently because of spooky season and wanted to share her with y’all. I hope you love her as much as I do!
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“I know you’re here Dracula, you big fucking nerd. Where’s my Goddamn money?!”
Hurried steps and the swish of a crescent-shaped cape accompany the echoing voice of Marc Spector as he descends the slate steps of your abandoned-chapel-turned-temporary-home. Seems ironic to live in the belly of a place so full of crosses, but it reassuringly houses a small family catacomb, and it just might be the last place anyone would think to look for a vampire… unless they knew who they were looking for. And would you look at that, Spector figured it out.
“Took you long enough, Spector.” You sip your wine, curled up on the velvet divan, the ceiling drips steadily above you, and you couldn’t look more like a fucking vampire if you tried. You look like a boudoir photoshoot they’d sell at an alternative gift shop, and if you were able to appear in photographs, you’d consider posing in a calendar for real. Eternal life has it’s disadvantages certainly, but it is easy on the eyes.
“Where’s my fucking money, Ula? I know it was you.”
He stalks closer to you now with a slow intensity. It’s funny; for how rushed he seemed to be making his way down the steps, he appears to have lost some of his impatience upon reaching his destination. The sight of you totally naked in the candlelight on the blood red velvet fainting couch has the desired stunning effect on poor Marc Spector. His steps grow slower, edging closer to you, but scanning his surroundings now with creeping mistrust. Smart boy.
You pick at a button on the sofa and purse your lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Marc.” You smile wickedly at him, taking another sip from your glass.
Marc’s mask dissolves and he flips back his hood to reveal an unamused angular face, inky curls hanging handsomely over his brow. What a tasty looking treat. And so thoughtful. To bring himself all this way.
“My fucking wallet, Ula. Black. Leather. Full of cash. Ring any bells?”
You put an affronted hand on your bare chest, making sure to caress a nipple with your ring finger while you give him a cartoonishly innocent doe-eyed look “Why, whatever could you mean, mister Spector? Are you accusing me of being a thief?”
“You this lonely, huh? You have to take things of mine to lure me down here. You’re obviously not expecting… company.” He shakes his head and gestures to your curled nude form.
“I’m deeply offended, Marc. I assure you, I did not take your wallet.” You set the wine glass down on the lacquered table, next to the flickering candelabra. “Tell you what” You stalk toward him, very slowly as not to frighten him, “You can even search me if it’ll make you feel better.”
Marc gulps and takes one step backwards for every advancing footfall you trod across the damp stone floor. His back eventually reaches a column and he pauses wide eyed allowing you to slowly and carefully close the distance between your bodies.
You thought an avatar might be a little harder to hypnotize, but he was no more of a challenge than any other man. His eyes are effortlessly tractioned by your own and his jaw loosens in wonder as you step between his legs.
He puts up no fight when you grab his hands and place them on your waist. Oh darkness, his hands are warm, warm and sweet like his candied brown eyes. And fuck, the way his panicked heartbeat vibrates through his hot fingers and into the flesh of your ass? The radiance is akin to the memory of sunlight… you can smell he sun on his golden warm skin. Everything in you screams with a bat-shriek to bite into him now, to suck the sweet life out of his sun-kissed neck, with its thick ropes of tense muscle, fatigued from carrying that pretty head around.
He won’t fight now, not while you’re looking at him like this, but you can’t hold his gaze forever… or perhaps you could. You’d wager your hypnotic gaze could theoretically keep him here for as long as his biology could remain stasis without rest and water— but there’s no chance your patience and lust could wait that long. Not while the throbbing vein in his neck, so thick, so appetizing, is inches from your face. You’ve improved upon your restraint in the last few hundred years, but it’s yet to be perfected. And why wait? You don’t want the stupid bird to come looking for him, do you?
Your eyes are heavy on his own when you purr, “search me, Spector.” He nods like a zombie and his hands are rough on your body, zeroing in on the fleshiest part of you— your bare ass, he squeezes and pulls your cheeks apart and his lip curls like a dog when he growls softly. Whether the vocalizations are a demonstration of pleasure or defiance, you don’t care.
“Ooohh,” Your eyes tighten in mirth and you nearly lose the gaze before you widen them again.
“Good boy, Spector.”
You bite your lip, letting your pearly fangs hook on your bottom lip. He’s delightfully obedient to the gaze. You let your long nails scrape along his scalp, scratching him affectionately before you take a handful of his unruly curls in your grasp.
“Such a good boy that I’m going to let you in on a little secret, okay?”
Marc gives no indication that he understood and he continues to stare dumbly into your eyes and pinch and squeeze the softness of your backside in his warm, wide palms.
You huff impatiently and use the reign of his thick strands to nod his head in agreement for him. You smile with satisfaction. “I did take your fucking wallet, Marc.”
Again, no reaction from him, thoroughly caught in the haze and muck of your sticky spell.
“I took it to lure your cute little butt down here so we could have some fun.”
Still silence, hardly a trace of recognition on his dazed face.
You trace a long fingernail down the side of his cheek, poking up the corner of his mouth into a half-smirk. “Gods, I love a man who knows when to shut the fuck up.” You laugh, scraping your nails gently down his neck and down his suit, to the crescent emblemed breast plate. You nearly, very nearly, break the gaze to look at the plate while you tease your fingertips across it. But your gaze is steady.
“But that’s not the secret, Spector. You knew I took it. The secret is this, and I’ll drain you if you ever tell anyone, but the secret—” You pitch your voice down to a breathy whisper, “You know how mortals have to invite a vampire into their home before we are allowed to enter?”
No response, no matter.
“Well, the opposite holds true for mortals entering a vampire home.”
Again, not a flicker of recognition from him, his thumbs are rubbing needy circles at your backside and the closer you step into him, the more pronounced you can feel the pulsing heat between his legs. Fuck, maybe you should drink from him there. It’s been a long time since you feasted on a femoral artery of a man.
“You see, Spector, once you enter a vampire’s lair, you can’t leave without express verbal permission.” You lick your fangs to punctuate your point. “Like a mouse in a glue trap, I could keep you here as long as it pleases me,” you laugh.
You think you see a subtle widening of his eyes, but it could have been a trick of the candle light.
“Oh don’t be scared, Marc. I’m not going to kill you. Not even going to change you. Just going to take a few good mouthfuls of you, and then I’ll let you go.” Your mouth waters at the visual you’ve painted for yourself. Mouthfuls of his thick pulsing blood, straight from the femoral artery. Christ, you need to feed.
“Does that sound good to you, Marc?” His nostrils flare a bit and you grin. “Oh look at you, baby. You’re excited, I can tell.” You place your palm at the inside of his knee and drag it up, up, up, till it’s resting over the booming ventricle at the center of his thick, warm body, it’s playing a quickening beat and you can feel your fangs grow at the temptation of it.
“Eyes on me, baby.” It’s harder to talk the more your throat fills with the analgesic fluid and your fangs thicken and extend. Your tongue gets hard to control in your attempt to swallow the flood of venom that pools in your mouth. You drop to your knees, never breaking eye contact while you kiss his inner thigh. Your lips are right above the searing pulse point he smells like heaven itself. You rip off his stupid loincloth with impatience. Nuzzling your face into his thighs as best you can while still holding his eyes with your own.
Your bare knees sting slightly on the cold wet floor, You grip onto his thighs, nails biting into the grey linen wrapped coverings while you affectionately nip at his clothed inner leg, never breaking the gaze. In your mad craving, you hardly register as a string of venom drips to the floor from your mouth in a debauched display. You admit you can’t remember the last time you went on your knees like this for a warm suck, but Spector looks delicious from this angle, leant back against the cold stone column, legs obediently spread for you. His hands, unable now to “search” and grope you, are balled into fists at his sides.
Your fangs are at full extension and they grow itchy and painful, if you had any patience left you’d have asked Marc to vanish this part of his suit, but he’s likely capable of fuck-all since the gaze kicked in, so you sink your teeth right through the gauze of his leg coverings, hitting that sweet throbbing vein that’s been calling out to you, begging for relief, begging you to slow its rapid pace down.
Your eyes close in relief and ecstasy, and it’s no matter that they do, the damage is done. You don’t have to hold the gaze any longer, your prey is paralyzed. Though, you think briefly you might enjoy it more if he were able to struggle, to vainly wriggle his thick thighs against your predatory hold. He would be so much fun to play with! To wrestle him down, to fight for your meal— for each suck to drag him further and further away from his own strength… but mortals are so fragile, if it weren’t for the gaze, many would perish from a heart attack before you could get to the meal. Only the most unrefined of your kind ever resort to such discourteous practices when feeding.
He tastes so thick and sweet, and so very very warm, much warmer than a neck bite. The heat of his thighs on either side of your head adds to the burning delicacy, the muscles are more tender down here as well… as much as you had fantasized about the ropey texture of his neck under your lips, this holds its own delights. Sure, you can’t taste the sun, salt, and stubble of his neck— but the flesh down here is soft like butter-seared fois gras. Blood syrupy and warm like hot mead. You don’t want to drink too much, but you don’t want to drink too little either. It’s unlikely Marc Spector will be fooled twice and pay you another visit, so you must savor and make this last as long his blood will hold.
When his heartbeat eventually slows to a resting rate, you make an irate little sound against his blood soaked thigh and force your teeth to pull back into your mouth. Fuck, its so painful to do when your lust isn’t slaked, much easier to just drain him… but a promise is a promise.
You nip your finger and squeeze a few drops of your own blood till it pearls on your skin and you swipe the healing blood onto his puncture wounds, effectively sealing him up. It does nothing for the staining though, and the dark red continent is prominent against the light grey of his suit. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and smile, rising up to your feet. You step in between his legs and snake your arms around his trim waist, planting a bloody kiss on his dazed mouth. He kisses you back faintly, like one might groggily mouth a kiss in their sleep.
“Mmmm, darling, you tasted even better than I dreamed you would.” You wipe of the stain of blood you transferred to his lips with your thumb and you pout at him.
“Baby is tired, isn’t he?”
Marc blinks slowly at you in response, eyes rolling back in delirium, and he heavily collapses into your embrace. Luckily your senses are heightened from having just fed, so you’re able to support his weight with ease and bring him to rest on the divan. You prop him up comfortably. Poor baby is helplessly unconscious… Perhaps you took a tad too much from him? You climb on top of him, still naked, and straddle his limp form to press your ear to his chest.
Still beating. Strong enough.
You sigh with relief. If he was dying you’d have to change him and then you’d have that fucking bird on your ass for turning his avatar. Nearly 600 years old and you still can’t control your lust to a conscionable level. Just imagine, Spector as a vampire! You laugh at the idea and slap his sleeping chest as if he were the one who came up with the thought. “Ha!” He would make a miserable vampire, he’d never have fun with it. No imagination. He’d be the type to be wracked with guilt at every kill. Sad silly boy. A regular Louie du Pointe du Lac, feeding on cats in shame and writing disconsolate letters to no one with his own blood tears. What a mess he would be!
You prop yourself up in a cobra pose on him, forearms and elbows on his breastplate, laying on him fully, the tops of your feet pointed atop his shins. You shake your head at his handsome face and smooth the curls from his brow. For the first time in a long time you have a whim to sleep for a moment… but you can’t, you haven’t slept in nearly 600 years, so you prop your chin on your fist and stare at the pretty avatar while he sleeps, drinking in his slumber with your eyes, savoring the slow rise and fall of his chest.
You reach under the decorative pillow and pull out a black leather wallet. You grin as you tuck it safely in his belt and you kiss his warm cheek before whispering in his ear, “I grant you permission to leave when you wake, Marc Spector.” You rest your head in the crook of his neck, lips teasing his weak pulse point. You sigh when you close your eyes and pretend that you can dream.
END
[If you enjoyed, please consider a reblog! 😘]
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bbyquokka · 2 years
Text
Be mine?
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→ PAIRING: Lee Minho x fem!reader
→ GENRE: Colleague!au, friends to lovers (?), smut – MDNI
→ SYNOPSIS: during an intimate moment, Minho asks to be yours.
→ WARNINGS: smut, nerd minho, unprotected sex, oral (m + f rec), fingering, pet name (kitten), use of the word 'master', cum swallowing, cum on body, size kink  
→ WORDS: 4.8k ~ (4880)
Do not repost and/or translate! Feedback & reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!
→ m.list — → you can also read it on my ao3
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Your world got shaken up when a certain someone entered your life. You had a nice, calm and peaceful life until he showed up
Lee Minho. A newbie at the job you work at. His nerd-like appearance screamed innocence. His hair always slicked back to perfection, round glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. He's shy and timid, likes to keep himself to himself.
You didn't know much about him considering he rarely spoke. The only time you heard him speak was when either you or a colleague gave him a task to do. You two are polar opposites. You're outgoing, like to be surrounded by friends whereas Minho prefers to be alone. You'll find him occasionally sitting in the breakroom, head in a book he is currently reading.
You are curious about him. Who is Lee Minho? What are his likes and dislikes? What hobbies does he have? What's his favourite colour? So many unanswered questions swimming around in your head.
You cannot deny the fact that you do feel attracted to him, in more ways than one. Despite his nerd-like appearance, he's a handsome man. His defined jaw and cheekbones, his veins protruding along his arms and hands, his cute pouty top lip with the added bunny teeth that just make him look even more handsome and adorable! 
It's possible you have a crush on him but who doesn't. Despite admiring him from afar and exchanging one or two sentences whilst at work, that's about how far your relationship goes. Until one day, you unexpectedly became more than work colleagues.
A storm was approaching. The rain heavy on the windows, bouncing off the pavement and giving it that wet, concrete smell. The sky black with heavy, grey rain clouds. Thunder and lightning echoing in the distance as the wind blew the leaves and branches off the trees.
You hoped the storm would pass by the time your shift ended, cursing yourself for not checking the weather forecast. However, it didn't. It got heavier and heavier. Puddles forming on the pavement and road, cars speeding to get home as the windscreen wipers on full speed.
You sigh, standing by the door. Wrapped in your coat with your bag in hand, you're not exactly dressed for a storm. Your work shoes wouldn't prevent your feet from getting wet and there's nothing worse than the feeling of wet socks.
“Brilliant. Just brilliant.” You mumble to yourself. It's just you and Minho, both of you being left to close up for the day. Minho approaches you, dressed in a long, brown coat whilst his bag strap rests across his chest and shoulder.
“Hey, uh y/n?” He timidly says.
“Mhm?” You look at him, a faint pink blush on his cheeks. He pushes up his glasses with his finger.
“D-Do you want a ride home?” He timidly asks, his car keys hanging on his finger by the loop.
“Are you sure?” You ask, feeling grateful that Minho is still with you and the fact that he can drive.
“Of course! The weather is terrible and well, I don't want you to get sick.” He rubs the back of his neck, smiling warmly at you. Your heart skips a beat, a warm feeling rushing all over your body.
So beautiful you think to yourself. His smile is so warm and gentle, spreading across his face, his bunny teeth peeking from between the gap of his plump lips.
“Thank you so much, Minho! I'd love that.” You groan. He nods before walking to his car. You both get in as you tell Minho your home address.
The atmosphere in the car was comfortable which is strange to you considering nothing was being said between you both. You feel comfy and warm. You didn't feel pressured to speak or start a conversation and when you did speak to one another, it flowed effortlessly between you both.
You allow yourself to relax, sitting back in the leather seats of his car. You listen to the heavy raindrops hit the metal roof of the car, the headlights of other cars blending in with the water droplets before being swiped away.
“It's far away.” You look at Minho, tilting your head to the side.
“Excuse me?” Minho sits back, taking his hands off the steering wheel as you've stopped at a red light.
“Your place. it's, uh, it's far away.” 
“Oh!” You laugh softly, “Yeah it is but it was the closest to work, funnily enough.”
“I could, urm..” Minho plays with his fingers shyly, blush creeping up on his cheeks. “I could pick you up and yknow, take you to work.”
“You'd do that..?” Minho nods slowly, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Too stunned to speak but his generosity, you failed to give him a reply. You stare at the man, taking in every single detail and texture of his face. Not only is he handsome, but also thoughtful and considerate.
A gentleman.
Minho took your silence as rejection, his hands back on the wheel as the lights turned green.
“O-Only if you want! Sorry.. did I overstep?”
“What? No! no no no, I'm just, flustered. No one has ever done something so nice to me and I know it's not that much of a big deal and all but no one has ever been thi–” Your sentences interrupted by Minho bursting out laughing. You giggle also, joining in on his belly laughs.
“You're rambling. It's cute.” He says once his laughter dies down. Your heart rate speeds up once again, the butterfly feeling resuming in your stomach.
“T-Thank you.”
Minho drives up to your apartment, parking as close as he could to the complex to reduce the risk of you getting soaked. You unbuckle your seatbelt, smiling warmly and thank Minho for the ride.
“I'll see you tomorrow?” He questions, hopefulness in his eyes. For some unknown reason other than it felt natural to do so, you lean in, planting a soft and delicate kiss on his cheek.
You giggle softly, Minho looking at you all flustered, his cheeks bright red.
“I'll see you tomorrow, lino.” You whisper before getting out of his car. You clutch onto your bag as you rush inside leaving Minho with an erratic heartbeat and a throb in his trousers. He places his hand on his cheek where you kissed him, his head spinning in your direction to watch you hurry off inside.
“Fuck…”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Since that fateful day, you and Minho started to get closer and closer. The closer you became to him, the more your feelings started to develop for him. You notice subtle things about him, how softly spoken he is, how he would do short, rapid blinks when he doesn't understand something, how he donates to various charities. The one thing that drives you insane, however, is that tongue of his.
That tongue of his peeking out from between his lips in concentration. How he would roll it around when thinking, how he would lick his lips slowly – it makes you feel things.
You learnt that Minho doesn't live alone. He lives with two others called Jisung and Felix, if you remember correctly. He also mentioned that he hasn't been living in the area that long so naturally, he doesn't know it that well. 
So you decided to show him around. Take him to various shops and cafes. You took him to the local library where his face lit up with the sea of books that rested before him. A kid in a candy store.
Your feelings for Minho are slowly getting out of hand. A simple touch sent shockwaves of heat and electricity to shoot all over your body. Your skin feels like it's on fire from where he touched you, your mind and soul melting whenever he looks at you with his gorgeous eyes.  
He's making you ache. Making you want him and he doesn't even know about it. He's so innocent that you wouldn't be surprised if he wasn't experienced in that department.
Oh, how wrong you are.
You're at Minho's place. The power in your apartment complex went out and the landlord stated that it would probably be out for the remainder of the night and possibly the morning.
You phoned Minho, asking if it was okay for you to stay over. You're both pretty close at this point so of course Minho didn't mind. Plus, his roommates are out doing their own thing so having you over for company is a bonus.
“That–” You pause to chew your food before wiping your mouth clean with a napkin, “Was delicious!” 
“R-Really?" Minho asks, feeling excited and proud. He cooked you his signature dish of beef wellington, a dish he's practiced to perfect.
“Really! I've never tasted something so delicious before. The meat is perfectly cooked! It's not dry, it's nice and juicy. The veggies and sauce are also to die for. This is restaurant level shit, Lino.” 
“Please! You're giving me too much credit, y/n.” Minho chuckles, sipping his drink.
“I don't think I give you enough credit lino.” You chuckle softly, before finishing off your meal. You and Minho made small talk whilst you ate, talking about this and that, laughing at each other's jokes.
You help him clean up the dishes, washing them in the sink whilst he cleans the countertops. You couldn't help but feel like the vibe was that of husband and wife. The way he would glance at you and give you a soft and gentle smile. The way those butterflies would return for the nth time and explode in your stomach, fluttering all over your body.
However, next thing you know, you’re kneeling between Minho's legs, cock in hand as you stroke him slowly. He looks down at you from his position on the sofa, pushing his glasses further up his nose. 
You whimper, rubbing your thighs together to create some friction. You don’t know how it happened, yet here you are. You rotate your wrist at the tip, watching his pre-cum seep from his slit. You hum, using your thumb to smear it on his cockhead, Minho kicking his head back as a strangled moan leaves his lips.
“Your hands look so small around me, y/n.” Minho groans softly, watching your hands stroke his fat cock. “They look so pretty around me.”
“Lino…” You whisper, looking up at him. You rest your cheek on his thick thigh, fluttering your lashes at him as you stroke him at a steady pace. “You’re so thick and big, Lino. What if you don't fit?”
Minho shivers at your words, his cock twitching in your hand. You giggle innocently, watching the way his thick, veiny cock twitches. You lick your lips hungrily, wanting to lick the pre cum that seeps from his slit.
“Don't worry kitten. I'm sure we can train you so you do fit.”
“Kitten?” You tilt your head to the side, fluttering your lashes as you slowly stroke his hot length. 
“Mhm. Do you want to be my kitten?” You nod your head slowly, biting your bottom lip.
“Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes master.” You purr. Minho shivers, humming in satisfaction before wrapping his hand around the base of his throbbing cock. “Open. Be a good little kitten for your master and suck me.” 
He taps his cock head against your lips, his pre cum transferring onto your lips. You lick them, humming at the salty taste before opening your mouth.
He places his hand on the back of your head, watching as you lower your head down on his cock.
“That's it.” He sighs, “That's a good kitten.”
You whimper around his length, bobbing your head. You lay your tongue flat, stroking the underside. Due to his size and thickness, you could only manage to fit less than half of his cock. Your mouth already feels stuffed, the corner of your lips stretching to full capacity.
You're right, he really cannot fit.
Your eyes flutter close, your hand wrapping around the rest of his cock to compensate. Minho tilts his head to the side, lips parted as he rests his hand on your head. He gently pushes down, his cock suddenly reaching the back of your throat causing you to gag.
“Shh kitten, let me train you.” You whimper the best you can, hand matching the tempo of your head. Saliva bubbles from the corner of your lips, spilling down your chin before landing on his neatly trimmed pubes.
“Shit… your mouth feels so fucking good…” He mumbles. “So warm and welcoming, like you're made for me.”
His hips buck, your gag reflex activating several times. You have to remind yourself to breathe through your nose whilst sucking him. Minho moans and pants softly, his fingers tangling in your hair and pulling on your scalp as he fucks your mouth gently from below.
“I've wanted to do this for so long – fuck!” Your eyes flutter open, Minho's cock twitching at the sight of your rosy pink cheeks and glossy eyes. Your lashes wet with your tears, eyebrows scrunched together. Your hands planted firmly on his thick thighs for stability.
“How did this even happen?” He pants, eyes closing slowly as he basks in the pleasure and warmth of your small mouth. 
You're asking yourself the very same question. One minute you were helping Minho clean up after dinner and now, you're on your knees for him, letting him use you till he is somewhat satisfied. 
“So pretty…” Minho whispers, his fingers untangling from your hair to stroke your flush cheek. “I wish I did this sooner.”
You pull his cock out off your mouth, saliva strings being the only thing that connects you both. Lips swollen, jaw and knees aching, you settle on pumping him. Your saliva coats the palm of your hand, wrists rotating at the tip. You rub his tip harshly with your thumb, smearing his pre-cum.
“S-Shit..!” Minho pants, back arching and hips lifting up off the sofa. You purr, watching him wrap his fingers around your wrist, his nails digging into your skin. “D-Dont stop! good… so good – fuck!”
He kicks his head back, eyes squeezing shut as he throbs in your hand. You lick your lips hungrily as you squeeze and roll his balls in your free hand.
“I want it…” You mewl, licking his slit with the tip of your tongue before proceeding to kitten lick. 
“You want it, kitten? Want my cum?”
“Please master.” You don't know what possessed you to say or do any of this, but it feels so natural. Nothing feels forced, both of you are able to match one another's energy.
“Like I could ever say no to that cute, adorable face.” Minho coos. “Just don't stop, kitten.”
You nod, pressing your tongue flat against his cockhead before wrapping your lips around it. Minho grips onto whatever he could find. You, the cushions, the throw, his own clothing. He needs stability, something to ground him back down to earth but with how warm and skilful you are, his head is in the clouds, mind hazy and body hot to the touch.
His cock twitches, balls tightening as the harsh knot tightens with each suck and rub. The sloppy sounds of your mouth making him feel more dizzy, his mind running a mile a minute with thoughts on what he wants to do to you.
“Cum. Shit, kitten, gonna… cum.” You hum, giving him a few more sucks before feeling his hot cum shoot out. It coats your throat and tongue, the hot liquid being swallowed without hesitation. 
Short, laboured breaths escape from Minho. Hips bucking with each twitch of his cock. You swallow his seed, shaking at the salty taste before pulling away from him. He pants heavily, chest rising up and down as he looks at you.
“Fuck..” He mumbles. He grabs you by your arm, gently pulling you onto him. You squeal, laughing softly as you straddle him. Hands firmly planted in your hips, faces inches apart, you get to take in every detail of his textured skin.
You swallow thickly, the atmosphere changing dramatically. Heart pounding against your chest, ringing in your ears.
“Kitten…” His voice barely a whisper, hope glimmering in his eyes as he bites his bottom lip.
“Lino.” You whisper back before slowly leaning in. Your eyes close, head tilts to the side as your lips gently press against his before pulling away.
“No… come back.” His hand holds the back of your head, gently pushing it so your lips meet together again. They move together in perfect synch, molding together as if they're made for each other.
You hold onto his shoulders. Soft sucks and nibbles of his bottom lip makes him groan softly. His free hand travels to your clothed core, cupping it gently and firmly pressing his palm against it.
You groan softly against his lips, hips bucking slowly as the material of your soaked panties rubs against your swollen clit. You dig your fingertips into his shoulders, head spinning due to lust and lack of oxygen.
“I-I need you.” You shamelessly admit against his lips. He gives an acknowledging hum before holding your back gently as he lowers you down on the sofa.
He peppers kisses along your neck, giving it the occasional suck. You put your hand over your mouth to muffle your moans.
“Let me hear you, kitten. I want to hear you.” Minho purrs as he removes your hand. His lips ghost over your neck and collarbones, fingers gripping onto the material of your clothing.
He pulls down your clothing plus panties down your legs before throwing them onto the wood floor. You chew your bottom lip as you watch Minho stare at your glistening folds.
“You're so wet.” He licks his lips hungrily before pushing his glasses up his nose. You flush red, feeling embarrassed about it. Minho hasn't even touched you yet you're already so wet and ready for him.
“It's embarrassing.” You whimper.
“No.” Minho states before dipping his head low. His body shakes as he gets a closer look, your swollen clit and throbbing core begging to be touched. “It's fucking hot.”
You didn't respond because you couldn't. The wind gets knocked out of you as you feel Minho's tongue press flat against your swollen bundle of nerves. His tongue swirls around your clit, swiping long and slow licks before sucking and nibbling on it gently.
You let out a whorish moan, feeling embarrassed at the sound you made. He hooks his arms under your legs, pulling your pussy flush to his face. 
“M-Min… ah!” You pant, his tongue lapping at your core, your slick gathering on his tongue and coating his taste buds.
“You taste so good, holy…” 
“M-Min!” You moan, his tongue diving deep inside your cunt. You reach down, gathering his hair in your fist and tugging at the roots. He moans, eyes fluttering shut.
His body shakes, adrenaline pumping through his veins. The more he licks, the more he tastes, the more he wants. He's a starved man wanting so much more your body has to offer 
He wants to devour you, eat you up and corrupt your mind with thoughts of him and only him.
“Good.. So good���” You pant heavily. Minho resumes his earlier task of pleasuring your clit, his middle and index finger circling your entrance.
He slowly pushes his fingers inside, his mind going crazy at how warm and welcoming you feel that he cannot help but think about how you'd feel around his cock. Your tight pussy, squeezing his fingers as he pumps them in and out.
Your thighs shaking, back arching as he devours your pussy. You look down, whimpering at the sight as you both make eye contact.
The nerdy looking, well kept guy you have always known is no more. Face buried between your legs, glasses tilted to the side, slipping down his nose slowly. His usual, slick back hair now disheveled. His cheeks pink, forehead shiny with sweat but his eyes are what makes you shiver the most.
Pupils blow with lust, eyes hooded as he looks at you. You feel like you're under his spell, his gaze is enough to make you do anything and everything he'd command you to do.
“Fuck lino…” You swallow, your walls contracting around his fingers. You cannot tear your eyes away from him – it's too much.
His fingers curl against your walls, tongue showing no mercy. Your back arches, his name rolling off your tongue. Your cunt is sloppy, your slick coating his fingers with each pull back.
“I-I can't! lino… I can't. So much, too much – fuck!”
“Gosh you sound so fucking delicious right now y/n. I want to devour you so fucking bad!” His hips buck against the sofa, the material of it creating some friction on his hard cock.
He's never wanted something or someone as bad as he wants you right now.
“Have me! You have me, Lino. Please, devour me!”
“Don't say things you don't mean, y/n.” Minho pants, briefly moving away from your cunt. His lips and chin glistening with your slick but his fingers remain inside.
“M-Mean it, I mean it lino. Please devour me. I want you to. Please, I beg you!” 
“Shit.” Minho clenches his jaw as he slowly pulls his fingers out off you. You cunt throbs at the sudden feeling of emptiness.
He slots himself between your legs, taking his glasses off and putting them on the coffee table. You lean up on your elbows, biting your lip gently as he grabs the base of his cock, pumping slowly.
“Are you sure?” You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you with the heel of your foot. He shivers as his tip gently nudges your core.
“Please Minho…” He swallows, cock twitching in his hand. He nods, gently pushing his cock inside. 
You hiss at the stretch, his size and thickness making you feel full already. Minho clenches his jaw, hands flying to your hips as he pushes.
It's only half but you feel full to the brim. You're tight around him, walls holding his penis in a vice grip. He's stationary, allowing you to get used to his size. He can see the pained expression on your face as you get accustomed to his size.
“Does it hurt?”
“A little. You're just so… big and thick.” You groan. Minho laughs softly, stroking your cheek.
“Don't blow up my ego anymore than you already have, kitten.”
“S-Sorry but it's true.” Minho lets out a hearty laugh before groaning as he feels you squeeze around him. He leans down, feathering his lips along your neck to your earlobe to gently kiss and suck it.
“Tell me when, kitten.” He whispers, his hands caressing the curve of your body before disappearing under your t-shirt to hold onto your waist. His soft fingers stroke your waist as you nod 
“M'kay.” You mumble. Minho nods, slowly pushing and pulling his hips. You chew your bottom lip, the sting a little too much for you. Minho notices your discomfort, the way you'd avoid eye contact, how your body would shake and your hand bawled into a fist by your mouth 
“Hey. Look at me.” He strokes your cheek softly, continuing his slow and gentle movements. “Focus on me kitten, it'll start to feel better soon.”
You lean into his touch, nuzzling his palm. Minho feels like his heart is about to burst from your adorable yet kitten-like action. Your lips part, your body and mind relaxing as pain turns to pleasure.
Minho notices by the way you feel around him. He smiles sweetly at you, picking up the pace a little.
“Good kitten.” He mumbles.
“M-More.” You whimper.
“Are you sure?” You nod, soft moans in the form of Minho's name rolling off your tongue. “Okay baby.”
‘Baby’ A nickname you call your significant other. A nickname that sounds so sweet coming from Minho. Your heart leaps out off your chest, walls clenching around his penis.
“Baby…” You whisper. Minho looks at you and hums.
“Is it okay if I call you that?” Heat rushes to his cheeks. He feels shy, like he's asking his first crush out on a date – except he isn't. He's asking his work colleague if it's okay for him to call you baby. He wants to be with you, wants to call you his own. He has done since day one.
“But, you only call your partn–”
“Then be mine.” He blurts out. You look at him with wide eyes, the rosy colour on your cheeks turning red. “O-Only if you want to!”
“Okay.” You giggle, “I'd like that. Not exactly how I would've liked to be asked but–”
“Oh hush. Believe me, I didn't plan on asking you such a sweet question with my cock buried inside you.”
“No?” You sweetly ask, watching him rise up on his knees and taking off his t-shirt. Your eyes widen at the site of his firm pecs and abs, a light sheen of sweat coating his skin making him look even more delicious.
“Fuck no. I planned on taking you on a date, watch the sunset and then ask you.” He tugs at the hem of your t-shirt, indicating off. You take off your own clothing plus bra, discarding them on the floor. “Pretty.”
“Maybe… fuck; Maybe we can still do that, lino.” You grip onto his biceps, feeling them contract. His movements are now fast and powerful, skin slapping on skin.
“M-Mhm! Love that. I'd love that a lot.”
“M-Me too.” Your body jolts upwards with each smack of his hips, breasts bouncing in time. You cup your breasts, massaging and playing with your own nipples.
Beads of sweat roll down Minho's temples, his swollen bottom lip caught between his teeth as he watches you flick and tug your nipple. You hitch your leg up and rest it on the back of the sofa, allowing Minho to see all of you.
“Shit…” He stutters, his eyes fixated on the space that connects you both together. He shivers and groans. He pulls his cock out to the tip, your slick coating his veiny cock.
“Min, more!” You purr, battering your lashes sickly sweet at him. 
“With pleasure.” He smirks, pushing his cock back inside you. Your back arches, hands gripping onto Minho's arms. 
“It's only half but it feels like it's all of you.” You whimper, lips parting as you pant.
“You're so tight for me, y/n. Fuck, you feel so warm and wet. I fear I may become addicted…” His words strangled, breathy moans leaving his lips 
“I'm fine with that. Become addicted to me, lino because I know I'll be addicted to you.”
He hangs his head low, eyes squeezing shut. His mind and body feels like he is melting, lust and adrenaline pumping through his veins.
Your sweet moans so gentle and addictive to him causing shivers to run down his spine and straight to his throbbing cock. With one hand still kneading your breast, you trail your other to rub your clit.
You hum, sweat coating your body as you apply pressure to your swollen clit. Your walls squeeze around Minho, a clear indication that you're close.
“L-Lino…”
“I know, it's okay. Cum around my cock.” He purrs. You moan his name softly, back arching as your walls contract and release around him. Your juices coat his cock, a hum of satisfaction from Minho as he helps you ride out your high.
With your pussy feeling sensitive and body hot, you let out strangled pants. Your body and mind are failing to comprehend how sensitive you feel.
“Just a bit longer.” He pants, desperately chasing his high. You dig your nails into his skin, high pitched moans leaving your lips. He pulls out off you suddenly, brows scrunched together as he pumps himself fast.
“C-Cum.” His hips buck in his hands as hot ropes of cum shoot out onto your stomach. A peripheral of “fucks” and “shit” leave his lips, head kicked back. He slowly strokes himself, his cock turning flaccid.
He runs his fingers through his messy hair, panting softly as a wave of shyness washes over him.
“Sorry. We didn't agree to, yknow.” You reach up, stroking his hot cheek gently.
“It's okay. I don't mind.” You giggle. Minho reaches for his glasses, putting them back on before grabbing some tissues to wipe off his cum.
“Do you, perhaps, want to uh, shower and sleep over..? I assume the electricity isn't back in the complex.”
“Are you sure..?” Minho nods, smiling softly to you.
“Of course. You can borrow some of my clothing if you want. Plus Jisung and Felix probably won't be back until tomorrow morning.”
“Sounds perfect, lino.” 
You squeal, giggling as Minho picks you up bridal style, walking to the bathroom. He gently places you down, stepping into the shower as you follow him.
You both wash off, eat and relax. The feeling of being in each other's presence is comforting and natural to you both. 
Maybe having your calm, peaceful life shaken up isn't such a bad thing after all.
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→ note: idk what this is. self indulgent? possibly. i mean, the thought of nerd minho with slick back hair and round glasses is just too much imo 🥴 don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. enjoy!!
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→ TAGS [open]: @chaneomma | @laylasbunbunny | @sstarryoong | @septicrebel | @bbujiikseu | @cixrosie | @g4m3girl | @skizzel | @meltheninja13 | @veeskabang | @fluffylino
461 notes · View notes
dragunflies · 4 months
Text
⤯ 𝐈𝐧 𝐊𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲 -> 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐢𝐢
Ellie Williams X Fem Reader
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HIIII this is the pt 3! Again, not a lot of the hot and heavy and fun stuff, but it's getting there trust. Ok bye wash your hands and be safe ok love you! <3
(CW: blood and violence are mentioned and described briefly)
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With a nod, you two were off. The galloping of hooves brought up loose dirt behind the two of you as you headed north and the rest of the patrols headed west. Soon enough the gate was nothing more than a checkpoint now, and off to Kelly you guys went. 
You followed tightly behind Ellie as you rode Challenger steadily. Your hands gripped the reins as you looked around the rural area. The gentle breeze followed by the steps made back the horses made for a relaxing and peaceful ride up north. As you guys make your way out of eye and earshot from Jackson, the quiet finally gets to you. The sound of the trotting echoed against the trees. Entering a dense forest nearby, you decide to strike up a conversation to fill the empty air.
“So,” You sigh, looking around while holding the map below you. “Your friends don’t seem to like me that much.” 
You sat there upright in your saddle while you held your map open in your lap, trying to pin-point Kelly and the Northeast post.
“I guess not,” Ellie states, turning her head to the side to showcase her side profile as she speaks. “Long story…” 
Your interest was officially peaked. What could she be on about?
“Hm?” You ask, trying to peer more into the conversation, you unknowingly tilt your head slightly, your ponytail falling behind you. “I mean, we’re gonna be out here for a while, plenty of time for a good story.”
She turned her head forward again. Shit. She probably doesn’t want to talk, just run the patrol and be back h-
“I think one of them used to be your neighbor or classmate?” She stated abruptly. “Donovan? He said you were a nerd.” She snickered.
“Nerd?” You reply. “How was I a nerd?-” completely oblivious to the fact that you aced each Math and English exam, true loser at heart. “Don’t answer that.” You reply sharply.
Ellie giggled, her teeth smiling through her rose lips as you two climbed through fallen trees and tall grass. You followed her hoof prints in the light coating of snow, ducking from low-hanging branches and searching through the open landings of trees and rocks. You watched her lead you two through this trail as if she knew exactly where you two were going. The sunlight that shined through the canopy of leaves above you two shined onto Ellie and her red hair, it gleamed in the sun, her light skin glistening from the rays that beamed through the branches. 
“Do you know where we’re going?” Ellie asked suddenly.
“N-No? I thought you knew?” Y/n replied nervously with a chuckle. “You seem very  confident on your path.”
“Right,” She responded. “Right yea, I know where we’re going…” She looked down at her map, obviously anxiously not sure. 
“I can help, I have my map right here-” you try to butt in, but quickly she snapped back.
“-No,” she countered, “I know how to get us there.”
You nod silently, trying to let her do all the work so you could simply just sit and watch. 
-
After a while of just tense air and painstaking silence,  you both overhear sounds from the distance. A creek, then a groan, then-
“Fucking stalker,” Ellie states under her tongue. “Sit here, I’ll take care of it, I only see one.” She squinted as she looked into the maze of trees. She slid down from her horse and gripped her knife firmly in her right hand. 
“Uhm no?” you reply, stopping in your tracks, grabbing your rifle in your hand. “I’ll go with you, I-” 
“Just fucking listen and stay here,” she barked back at you. “I’ll be quick.” she shook her head, walking into the distance careful to not step on any loud giveaways. 
Appalled at the remark you just heard, you sat back and watched, keeping a strong hand on your rifle. 
Ellie got closer and closer to the clicker in the opening of trees, it was glowing by the sunlight as if it had nowhere else to scurry off to. Step by step, Ellie got significantly closer. Her silent footsteps inched her closer and your grip on your gun got tighter with each step. Your knuckles whitened as you held the barrel tight. 
The sound that the clicker made echoed through the woods. Its wet and gnarly cracks and irks filled your body with goosebumps and shivers running down your spine. Ellie’s footsteps grew closer and closer. Her breath became dense and low, holding onto its lingering exhale and staring down at the crouched figure in front of her.  Ellie then suddenly shot lead directly into its back and stabbed its neck, blood following the end of her blade in a single trail. It’s arms flailed in the air, grabbing all it could. The motions flew through the wind, Ellie dodging each swing by a hair, just missing each flying limb. Suddenly, with a jolt, it gripped onto Ellie’s bicep. She groaned in pain, seething in agony and struggling to unlatch herself from the locked hands that held tight onto her shoulder. Claw marks ran down her arm, the nails of the stalker embedded into her skin, and she screamed in agony.
Your heart stopped as time itself paused. You shuffled around for your trigger as you slowly made one step and instantly, as time continued, you ran faster than you ever have ran before, your hands gripping the rifle’s barrel as you aimed down, past Ellie and her agony below you. Your aim was shaky, seeing Ellie seething in pain in your peripheral vision, praying your shot doesn’t go rogue-
“BANG” You impaled your bullet into the skull of the infected, sinking its skull into the dense dirt. The crimson blood pooled around its landing as you swung your gun over your shoulder, laying it on your back by its strap.
“Shit,” Ellie hissed, holding her hand to her shoulder. You could see the ends of the scratches below her hand. Blood seeping through her bony fingers, trickling down her arm and dripping slowly. “Fuck-” She groaned in pain.
You held her hand up, trying to look at the wounds located on her upper arm. It was bad. After lifting her hand you instant held it back down, pressing it tighter, “Hold this, do not move.” 
The birds chirping in the background followed by flocks of crows screaming in the trees influenced such a tense moment. The ground was as cold as ever as you sat beside Ellie, reaching for your bag.
She nodded, rolling her head back with a deep inhale as her palm held tightly against her skin. So you turned around quickly, opening your back with one swift movement, your medical supplies owning their own pocket. You dug and dug, getting gauze, tape, and glue.
“Okay, sit still,” You looked at her, through her deep green and hazel eyes, seeing the actual pain that was encased behind her thick exterior. “As best as you can.” 
Quickly you wiped down her hand, removing it slowly. Ellie grunted as you opened the wound back into the air, the bleeding had stopped significantly, but it still beaded up to the surface. As you wiped it with a cloth covered in alcohol, Ellie grabbed onto your shoulder with her other hand, her grip tightened as she sunk her fingertips into your shoulder. You looked over, not even recognizing the now desperate and helpless Ellie that sat in front of you, but you were happy you could prove yourself in some way. 
“Fuck-” Ellie hissed through her teeth as she sat forward at the tightening of the bandages.
You wrapped the wound tightly with the gauze you had by your side the blistering that slightly formed around the sight of the wound barely phased you. As you wrapped and wrapped it, you looked at the wound more and more, you completely blanked out, now just realizing that not only was Ellie infected, but she was just inches away from you. Your hands began to shake, taping the ends of the gauze and standing up, hesitantly giving a hand to Ellie to help her up.
As she propped herself, you looked down at the stalker next to you two. “You’re-” You try to let out your thoughts at that moment as Ellie just walks away right behind you, heading back to the horses. 
“Thanks.” she nodded. 
You just picked up your bag full of supplies, the materials shifted as you swung it over your shoulder. You just kept your gaze on the dead infected at your feet, cold, lifeless. You became uneasy. 
After just standing there, you back up, keeping your gaze on the body until you snapped your head back to Ellie and where she sat on her horse, waiting patiently. Your eyebrows furled as you looked at her, confused, worried, and scared for the most part. 
“I’m fine,” Ellie announced to you from her steed. 
But no, you just stood there, now slowly walking back to your horse, concerned. 
“Y/n, I’ll be fine.” Ellie brushed it off, letting out a huff as she sat up in her reins. 
You stayed silent, unsure of how you should respond. Still walking to your horse, Ellie watched you in her peripheral, waiting for you to mount to continue the trip. With readjustment, you get back into your saddle and follow Ellie to the next outpost. 
 After a minute of trotting, you two find a checkpoint in southernmost Kelly, practically still in Jackson, but it was close enough. It was a gas station, holding a book inside where each patrol would sign their names and the status of the location. As you both arrive, you attach your horses to a post nearby and find an open spot of land not too far from the station. Nearby you gathered rocks and twigs and laid down a circle of rocks and a pyramid of wood, lighting a match below it to start a small fire. At this point, the evening became late and the sun rose low to the horizon. As Ellie returned from signing the outpost sheet, she approached you and the setup you had made.
“I’ll be okay,” she reassured softly. Her raspy and grungy tone became that of a more relaxed and calmed texture. “Trust me.”
“Mhm.” you didn’t believe her. Why would you? You had no other reason to think that those boils were anything less than deadly. 
With a groan and eye roll, Ellie looked down a her shoulder, looking at the raised edges and dried blood that ran along the edges of the scratches that were fingernail-inflicted. She ran her cold touch along her particle gash, wrapping it up soon after. She sat down on her coat, throwing down her back from her back, and let out a strong exhale.
“I don’t want to wake up next to something like what we just saw.” You state, watching as the fire spread to the other twigs in the fire, poking it with a metal rod you found nearby.
“You won’t.” Ellie responded quickly. 
“And how would I know that?” You replied, pissed off by your tone, your sharp tongue quick to snap back at whatever Ellie said next.
“Because.” She replied, holding onto her tattooed forearm, and rubbing her palm against the darkened surface. She stood up, seeing how tense you were, looking past the flame that covered your eyeshot to her. You looked defeated, she looked tired, and you both just had experienced something so energy-inducing it looked it both out of you.
Seeing how exhausted you seemed, she hesitantly placed her hand on your back in gratitude for, y’know, saving her life. 
You felt a shiver run down your spine, feeling her cold almost corpse-like hand placed on your back, but within a second of it being placed there, you let out a deep exhale. It took with it a feeling of uneasiness.
 “Thanks for all that today.” She let out, patting your back as she sat down beside you. No more than a foot away did she sit. Ellie wanted to keep you company but didn’t want to make it too awkward for either of you, so she kept her distance.
“I won’t start clicking in the middle of the night y’know.” She said to break the silence. 
“Again, I can’t believe you.” You reply almost instantly. At this point, it was getting repetitive. 
She took her hand off of your back, lowering her gaze to the fern tattoo that was placed on her forearm. “Here.” She hesitantly grazed.
You were confused. “The moth?” Y/n questioned, ultimately confused about what Ellie was trying to show her. 
“No, the bumped below it, how I ‘burned’ myself.” She said, rolling her fingers along the surface of her forearm. 
Looking at the wound, you move in closer. Suddenly, Ellie takes in your hand to feel the bumps and sudden scarring you couldn’t see initially, your heart stops as she grabs your wrist to feel her arm, but you look past that instantly. 
“What is this from?” You asked, concerned and at unease. 
“I was about 14 years old.” She began to tell the story of when she was bitten. How the teeth sunk into her skin, and how she lost everything to her that day. It all added up now; How she’s still here. 
And you looked back up to her. She was still infatuated with the story she had been telling, but you were amazed. How could someone like Ellie just open up like this? As you were practically staring at her and how she humbly rambled on the fact that she was immune from the single most destructive disease on the planet, she looked back up to make sure what she was saying was alright with you. Her green eyes were now filled with a story you never once knew. Her freckled skin held those memories and stories back, scared of what would happen next. 
You watched as her lips slowed down, she became confused and worried about what you were so confused about. 
“Is something wrong?” She asked cautiously, looking around you and behind her. 
And suddenly, you don’t know what got ahold of you, but you leaned in, inhaling her breath and kissing her. You leaned into her body, she simply propped herself up by just one arm.
But she pulled away, confused about why you would do something like that, especially while she was talking about something so serious. But she looked back at you, digging into those deeply colored eyes, and saw your feelings as if it were a mirror. 
With a sly smirk, Ellie grabbed you by your chin and pulled you in close. The distance between you two was no longer.
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