#Effective Ideas For Ex Love Back
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Effective Ideas For Ex Love Back
In this fast-growing world, every person has to countenance various problems and he wants to get rid of these problems from his life. There are many issues in life such as marriage-related problems, love-related problems, career problems, job and business problems, and divorce-related problems. If you are facing any difficulty linked to love and marriage and desire to get rid of these struggles…
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#Effective Ideas For Ex Love Back#How do you get your ex back effectively#How do you make your ex lover love you again#how to get an ex back who lost feelings for you#How To Get Ex Back Quickly#how to get your ex back after hurting them#how to get your ex boyfriend back even if it seems impossible#How to Get Your Ex to Fall for You Again#how to make my ex think about me constantly#how to make your ex fall in love with you again psychology#how to make your ex love you again fast#how to slowly win your ex back#signs you are wasting your time trying to get your ex back#Tips for When and How to Get an Ex Back#What brings exes back together
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BAD THINGS | JJK (Part 1)
summary getting jealous, sending mixed signals, simping for a gorgeous geek who has no idea what effect she has on him... it's just what jungkook does best. oh, and football. he's really good at football.
pairing jock fuckboy!jk x nerdy fuckgirl!reader
rating 18+ minors dni; smut, angst, fluff
genre f2l, fwb au, university au
word count 7.4k
content jk 20 | yn 20. down bad, simpy, jealous jk. he's kind of a himbo 😭. oc is a nerd but shes confident, a little slutty and a little bitchy. misunderstandings. mcs are (retired) hoes. they r both hopelessly & secretly(?) in love w each other. but one of them is just a littleee more obvious abt it... oc has dissociation as a defense mechanism baddd when she's hurt. football (soccer) jk. campus librarian yn. kth is oc's ex bf. the slightest bit of love triangle themes but like she's jk whipped cmawnn it's me 😭. cursing. kissing. short nsfw scene; dirty talk, p in v sex, almost getting caught
a/n so this is another draft dump LOLLL… i chopped off the end bc i wasn’t happy with it and decided to just turn this into a two-parter with an undetermined pt2 release date. so don’t read this if you’re not a fan of open or unresolved endings, baby!! not even the Lord himself knows when i’ll get back to her since i’ve got a lot in the works atm 😬 butttt i think this first part is seaux cute and it’s my blog so i’m posting it 💋 just like habits, here’s a sweet little treat - maybe a lil sumn sumn for you to pass some time with... <3 love you lots
now playing: bad things—mgk & camila cabello
“It smells like sex in here.”
Your roommate’s voice cuts through the quiet room, half-amused, half-accusing.
Looking up at her from under your warm covers, you respond casually, “Well, autoeroticism is a type of sex.”
Nari tilts her head, her lips pursing slightly as she processes your words. Then, closing the distance, she sits at the edge of your bed. The blanket shifts dangerously low, nearly exposing your bare chest. You bite the inside of your lip to suppress a laugh, quickly tugging it back up in time.
“Is that a nerdy way to say masturbation?” she asks, narrowing her eyes. “And did you really have to get fully naked? With the door unlocked? God, Y/nn, I’ll never get used to how comfortable you are with your sexuality.”
You giggle softly, leaning back into your pillow, lashes lowering as you gaze up at your pretty roommate. “I can teach you how to get comfortable with it if you want.”
Nari rolls her eyes, her lips curving into a sarcastic smile. She playfully smacks your thigh through the blanket, making you laugh. “I’m gay, but not gay enough to settle for a slut, sorry, baby.”
“Slut?” you echo, feigning offense with a dramatic gasp, your eyebrows shooting up in mock surprise. “It’s 2024, unnie… I don’t know if you can say that anymore.”
“Mmm,” she hums thoughtfully, her eyes sweeping over your barely-covered frame as she shakes her head. “It’s not even two o’clock, Y/nn. Like—” she cuts herself off with a chuckle and a shrug. “No, you know what? I’m not even surprised. Anyway, I came to ask if you needed anything from the supermarket. I would’ve texted, but I heard your voice through the door…” She pauses, realization dawning a beat too late. “Oh god. Those weren’t conversations. Fuck, sorry for interrupting.”
“It’s okay.” You smile, poking her lightly with your blanket-covered foot. “Wasn’t going that great anyway.” You shrug. “Strawberries, please? And some chocolate—the dippy kind.”
“Sure,” she nods, leaning down to plant a quick kiss on your sweaty cheek. You try to nuzzle into her affectionately, but she laughs, pushing your face back into the pillow. “‘Not that great?’ You’re sweating like a dog,” she teases as she stands to leave. “Be back soon. Love you.”
“Love you,” you echo, waving lightly as she shuts the door.
The second you hear the front door click shut, you exhale sharply, tossing the blanket off your overheated body.
“‘Not that great?’” Jungkook’s voice breaks the silence, mock offense lacing his tone as he steps out of your closet, his cock still hard and pressing against his stomach. You reach for your bra from the floor, pretending not to notice his pout. “Not exactly the review I usually get…”
You laugh halfheartedly, clipping your bra back on and scanning the floor for your panties. Jungkook frowns, shuffling back onto the bed, his warm chest brushing against your back as he watches you tug your panties up.
“Hey…” His voice softens when he realizes you're redressing. His hand gently rests against your side, only for it to be covered by your shirt as you pull it over your head.
“Y/nn? What—what’s wrong? You don’t wanna keep going? I’m—” His words falter as you stand to pull your jeans on, facing him with a look that leaves him unsure. His throat tightens, but he tries again, “Did you— I mean, I-I’m more than happy to keep going. It didn’t bother me that she almost caught us…”
You give him an amused smile, making his heart lurch, but you say nothing. Jungkook’s mouth goes dry as he watches you fasten the button of your jeans and walk over to your desk. Still silent, you put on your glasses, picking up your phone and swiping across the screen.
Jungkook sits on the bed, completely naked, his lips pursing as he watches you text without sparing him a glance. He opens his mouth to say something, but you’re already locking your phone, reaching for your jacket hanging on the back of your chair. His heart sinks as you walk toward the door without a word.
You twist the doorknob, then hum softly like you’ve forgotten something. “Could you lock the front door behind you, please?”
Jungkook’s jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing in disbelief. You tilt your head, faking confusion as you ask, “Is that going to be difficult for you…?”
Jungkook scoffs, shaking his head as he leans down to grab his briefs from under the bed. “You’re a real bitch, you know that, Y/n?” His tone is sharp as he tugs the underwear on.
Leaning against the door, you nod nonchalantly, watching him stuff his hardon back into his briefs. “Mhm, I’ve heard…”
Jungkook pulls his black tee over his head, still looking incredulous. “Why are you acting like this? Did you—did you, like, actually not enjoy it?”
Your stomach tightens as you catch the insecurity flicker in his eyes, his brows knitting together slightly as he zips up his jeans. You roll your eyes at yourself for feeling bad, knowing that's exactly why you’re in this position to begin with.
“It was good, Jungkook.” You blink at him, your voice lacking the enthusiasm he’s used to. Now fully dressed, he walks over to you, his shoulders drooping slightly.
You clear your throat and open the door wider, a gesture for him to leave. Jungkook hesitates, stopping just in front of you, his hand brushing your arm gently. But you pull away, and his heart sinks further.
“I have to go—”
Jungkook cuts you off with a frustrated huff. “Y/n, if I did something you didn’t like, you need to tell me. I told you before, if I get too rough, I want to know… I'm sorr—”
“You weren’t too rough,” you laugh humorlessly, shaking your head. “I’ll text you later, okay? I really have to go—”
“Seriously?” He snaps, his eyes narrowing in disbelief. “Where? To Taehyung’s?”
Your head tilts as you look up at him, unimpressed. “Why do you just assume I’m going to another guy's? I could have a study group—”
“Because I know when your study groups are,” he shoots back, glancing at his phone and then at you. “And because you said we had a couple hours. It’s only been forty-five minutes.”
“Can I explain later?” you sigh, exasperated. “This is taking so lon—”
“Holy shit,” Jungkook mutters under his breath, shaking his head, jaw clenched as he brushes past you toward the front door.
He shoves his feet into his shoes angrily, staring at you as you quietly close your bedroom door and follow him. There’s a softness to your movement, a quietness that almost makes his anger dissolve. Almost.
“I’m not going to keep doing this.” His voice holds a cold finality, one that makes your eyes drop to the floor. When you finally look up, there’s a slight glassiness in your gaze, and his throat tightens. “I’m not going to let you make me feel like this anymore.”
You stay silent, your eyes flicking between his before you nod slightly and slip on your sandals. Jungkook runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands as you open the front door. You stand there, waiting for him to walk through.
Jungkook glances at the corridor, then back at you, and his resolve immediately fucking crumbles. His lips part, ready to take it all back. Tell you he didn’t mean it. That he doesn’t care how many times you push him away, ignore his texts, put your situationship on hold while you see where things could go with another guy that could offer you what he couldn't. He’d still come back.
He’ll always come back.
But his eyes flick to your phone as it dings, a message from your ex, Taehyung, flashing across the screen. You meet his gaze briefly before you flip the phone over, hiding the notification. But it’s too late. Jungkook already saw it.
He leaves without a word.
“Dunno. Been like two days or something. Don't remember, don't care.” Jungkook’s voice is flat, casual, but tension lingers behind his words as his thumbs flick over the controller, eyes locked on the screen.
He and Jimin are sprawled out on their dorm couch, Jungkook playing FIFA while his best friend scrolls through his phone.
Jimin doesn’t even look up, fingers tapping lazily as he scrolls. “Why do you still pretend like you don’t care around me? I’m like the last person you should lie to.”
Jungkook’s jaw tightens, eyes focused on the screen as his player sprints down the pitch. But everything feels off, like the game’s moving slower than it should. His shot misses the goal by a mile, and his teeth clench hard. “I’m not lying.”
Jimin rolls his eyes amusedly, still swiping through his Instagram feed. “Mm, sure, Jungkookie. I believe you.”
“I’m not,” Jungkook snaps, offended, his grip tightening on the controller. He flicks back to the main menu and loads into another match after getting absolutely thrashed in the last one. “She hasn’t texted me, I haven’t texted her. Whatever. She’s probably back with her ex or something. Couldn’t care less.”
The small sniff that follows is almost imperceptible, but Jimin catches it, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “Ah.” He hums, not even bothering to look up. “You’re trying to convince yourself, not me. I get it. No worries then.”
Jungkook’s fingers freeze over the controller, jaw locking as his eyes snap to Jimin. He’s burning holes into the side of the blonde’s head, and it takes everything in him not to hurl the controller across the room. Meanwhile, Jimin, lounging comfortably on the other end of the couch, continues scrolling, completely unbothered.
Jungkook exhales harshly through his nose, turning back to the screen. His chest tightens, frustration building, making every movement feel stiff and out of place. The new match starts, but he’s not in it. The ball slides past him, and when another easy goal slips through his fingers, his teeth grit harder.
He can’t focus. Not on the game, not on anything. Because all he can think about is you. How you brushed him off like it was nothing, how you acted like he didn’t matter. And the worst part? You still haven’t texted.
Not once.
He keeps telling himself it’s fine. That he doesn’t care. But the tightening in his chest, the ache in his stomach — it all says otherwise. You both get around, and it’s no secret. Jungkook can’t even remember the last time he even cared about hearing from someone after hooking up.
But you?
You have him wrapped around your finger so tight that he hasn’t eaten properly for the past forty-eight hours, meanwhile you haven’t even sent him a single fucking text.
It’s pathetic. He's pathetic. And it’s all your fault.
Jimin’s voice cuts through his spiraling thoughts, softer but still pointed. “You know,” he starts, glancing up from his phone, “if you really didn’t care, you wouldn’t be this upset, Jungkookie.”
Jungkook sighs heavily, dropping the controller to the side without even pausing the game, dragging a hand through his messy hair in frustration. "Yeah, I know, hyung. But I don’t even know why she’s mad in the first place. Things were fine. Good, actually. Like really fucking good."
‹ ‹ ‹
“Holy fuck!”
Your gasp fills the room as you clutch the back of your thighs, holding your bent legs up while Jungkook drives his cock deeper inside you. His hips snap against yours with his athlete precision, his thick length slamming into your g-spot with each thrust, ripping strangled, throaty moans from your throat.
“Yes baby,” you whimper, your voice cracking. "So goo—uh! uhh, uhhh, my godddd!"
Jungkook’s chest heaves, his teeth dragging over his lip ring as he watches you fall apart beneath him. “I know, baby, I fucking know,” he groans, his voice rough, the sound of your wet cunt sucking him in driving him wild. “Feels so fucking good. Always take me so well, Y/nn. Such a pretty little pussy. Made for me, ah? Fuucck.”
Your nails dig into your thighs as you spread your legs wider, needing him deeper. "Yessss, uh, love your big cock, Jungkookie. M-makes me feel fucking dumb. Godddd, I love it."
He groans, his pace quickening, eyes locked on the way you tremble under him, your eyes rolled back, expression completely fucked out. His lips part to tell you how fucking pretty you look when—
The sound of your roommate’s keys jingling in the front door freezes him.
“Shit,” he curses under his breath, pulling out of you so fast it makes you wince. In a scramble, Jungkook jumps off the bed, grabbing his clothes and kicking them under the frame in a huff.
Your blanket is barely covering you when he dives toward your closet, slipping inside and shutting the door just as the front door swings open. Your heart sinks as you watch him disappear. You clear your throat, sitting up just in time for your best friend to step into the room.
› › ›
Jungkook leans back into the couch, arms crossed over his chest, scowling at nothing in particular. “See what I mean? We were good. Then, boom, she’s pissed.”
Jimin scoffs, still amused as he scrolls through his phone. “Are you fucking stupid?”
Jungkook turns to him, confusion written all over his face. “What?”
Jimin rolls his eyes, tossing his phone onto the coffee table and fixing his best friend with a deadpan stare. "You really don’t get it, do you?"
"Well, obviously fucking not, hyung. Can you stop talking in code and just tell me?”
The dim lights of the campus library flicker slightly as Jungkook pushes through the double doors, the sound of ice clinking against the sides of the drink in his hand echoing in the foyer. The space is mostly empty now, save for a few scattered students packing up their things, preparing to leave for the night.
His eyes immediately find you. You’re by the front counter, walking away from one of the tables, probably having just told the last few stragglers that the library is closing. For a moment, you don’t notice him, too absorbed in your task, your brows furrowed in concentration as you tidy up the space. But when he approaches the counter, heart lodged in his throat, your eyes finally land on him.
“Sorry, we’re closed for the n—” Your words falter as soon as you realize who’s standing before you. Jungkook, clad in a cozy hoodie, the hood pulled over his head, his big boba eyes skimming over your face. His expression softens as he blinks, shifting the drink in his hand.
“Hey,” he says quietly, placing the Dunkin’ cup on the counter in front of you before slipping his hands back into his pockets. “Can we please talk?”
Your eyes flicker from his face to the drink, lingering on the straw already placed in the cup, a chunk of the liquid missing. You wrap your fingers around the cup with an amused look, lifting it to take a sip of the caramel coffee.
Glancing at the time on the computer monitor beside you, you ignore the way him getting your order exactly right makes you feel and nod slightly. “Sure, but can it be quick? I’ve still got a bit of reshelving to do before I head off,” you hum, your gaze darting back to him.
“I’ll help?”
Jungkook’s gaze follows you as you step up onto the stool, reaching to place a book on the top shelf. He couldn’t tell you what the novel’s about, not even if you held a gun to his head. But he could tell you exactly what color panties you’re wearing, thanks to the perfect view your short skirt offers him every time you stretch up.
Baby blue, by the way.
Once the book is nestled between the others, you glance down at him, pushing your glasses back up your nose when they slip slightly. “Next one, please.”
He blinks, shaking off the haze clouding his brain, and hands you the last dusty book in his hands. His eyes trail over you, glued to the way you move as you place the book on the shelf, the scent of your coconut shampoo and vanilla-creme perfume making his head spin.
“You know, we’re almost finished, and you still haven’t done much talking,” you say lightly, your Docs clacking against the steps as you climb back down.
“You look so pretty today,” Jungkook blurts dumbly, his voice a little hoarse as he follows you down the aisle, pushing the book cart.
Your head tilts in amusement as you watch him get closer, his hood still tugged low over his hair. “Thank you, Jungkook. You look cute in your hoodie.”
“Y'still mad at me?” he asks with a cute little frown, pulling the cart to a stop before stepping around it to stand directly in front of you.
Your soft laugh hums through the quiet library as you shake your head. “Don’t think so.” You let him close the distance, his big hands ghosting over the sleeves of your sweater, sending shivers up your arms.
“Stop calling me Jungkook then,” he mutters, his lips brushing your ear as he leans down, resting his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling the scent he’s been craving for days.
“Isn’t that your name?” you feign confusion, lifting your hands to pull his hoodie down, fingers threading through the soft strands of his hair that appear.
Jungkook nips lightly at your neck in warning, the gentle bite making you let out a soft breathy noise, and he swallows hard. “Kookie or Jungkookie,” he corrects, his voice barely above a whisper as he presses little kisses into your skin.
“Kook?” you hum, your teasing tone making his hands slide further down your waist.
“No,” he scoffs under his breath, his lips finding a particularly sensitive spot on your neck without even trying. “Tae calls me that.”
A laugh slips from your lips, but he’s not laughing. He pulls you closer, his lips lingering on your skin as he mumbles, “I’m so sorry, Y/nn.”
He leans back to meet your gaze, and the intensity in his eyes makes your stomach twist. “I didn’t hide because I was embarrassed of you, I swear. I just—”
“Whoa,” you mutter, your hands pressing gently against his chest as you push him back a little. “I didn’t say that. Why are you—”
“Jimin hyung told me,” he pouts, taking a step closer as you step back. “I didn’t understand why you were mad, but he explained it to me, and—”
“You’re telling people about what happens between us?” you snap, moving around him. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I was confused and losing my mind,” he rushes out, his voice tight with frustration. “You hadn’t texted me since that day, and I was going crazy—”
“You didn’t text me either,” you shoot back, shaking your head as you grab the last three books from the cart and climb the step stool. “We’re not together, Jungkook. You don’t have to worry about hurting my feelings.” You laugh bitterly. “And anyway, you didn’t—”
“Bullshit,” Jungkook frowns, stepping closer to the stool as you shove the books onto the shelf with more force than necessary. “You were pissed at me.”
You don’t reply, your hands gripping the books tightly as you try to shove them into place, but your frustration makes them impossible to slide in properly. Jungkook keeps talking, and your hands shake as you fumble with the last book.
Then, with one final shove, the book slams into place, but your shoe slips against the edge of the stool. Before you can even begin to fall, his strong hands are around your waist, lifting you off the steps and plopping you safely on the ground.
“Y'okay?” Jungkook asks, his voice soft as he steadies you. His hands linger on your waist, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your skin.
You don’t want to admit how flustered you feel, but his hands are so warm, so soft, and you don’t pull away. You just nod gently.
Jungkook leans in, his lips brushing your neck again as he mumbles, “You're usually private about your personal life, and I didn’t want you to worry about explaining anything to Nari that you didn't want to. Would never be embarrassed of you. Could never be."
Your heart softens at his words, and you can't control your body as it melts into him, your fingers curling into the back of his hoodie. His lips drag up the soft skin of your neck until they eventually find yours, and just like that, you forget why you were ever mad at the pretty fuck-boy in the first place.
His mouth moves hungrily against yours as he pushes you gently against the shelves and your breath catches, letting him lift you by your thighs until they're wrapped around his waist, his groin pressing right between your legs.
The kiss grows a little deeper, a little wetter, and your hands thread through his hair, tugging at the scalp and humming in delight when his groan vibrates against your lips. His tongue swipes against yours, his nose nudging up that your glasses lift and a soft moan slips from your lips, your own tongue trying to lick off all the caramel he stole from your drink.
Just as your hands slip under his hoodie, your phone starts buzzing in the cart. Jungkook pulls back, breathing heavily, his lips red and a little swollen as his long arm reaches for your phone. He hands it to you, letting your legs sink to the ground as he takes a quick peek at the screen.
His tongue flicks over his lipring in annoyance when he sees the name on the display. KTH.
You glance down at the phone in your hand, completely unbothered as you decline the call. Taehyung’s name disappears from the screen, and you lean up to press a soft kiss to Jungkook’s pouty lips before turning back to pack the stool into the now-empty cart.
Jungkook adjusts his hoodie slightly as he watches you push the cart back down the isle. He follows close behind, biting his lip to keep from breaking into a big fucking grin.
“Did you guys at least use a condom?”
“Shut up,” you laugh, nudging Jungkook’s side as the two of you make your way toward the library entrance. The lights flick off one by one behind you, your voice filling the quiet space. “I didn’t sleep with him.”
Jungkook has your bag slung over his shoulder, his pleased little smile plastered across his lips as he gives you a once-over. His tongue darts out to swipe over his bottom lip, unable to stop himself from staring.
You just look so sweet. Wrapped up in your white knitted sweater, smooth and soft legs disappearing under the hem of your little plaid skirt, hair falling imperfectly perfect over your shoulders. And those glasses. Those pretty fucking glasses perched on your pretty fucking nose. He doesn’t know why, but the sight of them makes his cock throb in his joggers. You just... do that to him.
Finally, you both reach the double doors. Jungkook pulls the keys from your bag, dropping them into your palm as he steps a little closer. The air between you stills for a moment, neither of you saying anything as he watches you carefully. His brow furrows slightly, his heart skipping a beat as you fidget with the keys in your hand, blinking up at him through those pretty eyes. He wonders what’s running through that brilliant mind of yours.
“I’m sorry, Kookie,” you say softly, your voice breaking the silence.
Jungkook frowns, shaking his head as he takes another step closer, the concern in his eyes clear. “Why?”
“You told me you wouldn’t let me ‘continue to make you feel this way,’ and I just—”
“No, Y/nn, I didn’t mean—”
“No, Jungkookie.” Your voice is firmer this time as you look up at him, your expression more serious. “You have every right to establish boundaries. If I make you feel confused or frustrated, you don’t have to put up with that.”
“I’d let you, like, spit on me and tell me I’m stupid, Y/nn,” he shrugs, flashing you a pretty grin. “Well, I am stupid, but still, I’d let you—”
“You are not stupid.” Your eyebrows pull together as you cross your arms, voice sharp with protectiveness. “Did someone call you stupid?”
Jungkook bites his lip, fighting to keep the smile off his face. “No, I’m just saying you could if you wanted to.”
“You’re such an idiot,” you huff, your arms falling to your sides as the keys jingle in your hand.
“Hey… you just—”
“Ah,” you murmur, giggling softly as you step closer, slipping your arms around his waist. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that. You’re the smartest boy,” you coo, tiptoeing up to press soft kisses under his jaw.
Jungkook’s lips purse as he bites back a smile, his heart swelling at your touch. He tilts his head down, his eyes locking onto your cute little pout, and with no resistance left in him, he lets his grin break free as he leans down to capture your lips with his.
A light groan escapes from his throat as your arms tighten around his waist, your soft, warm body pressing against his like it’s exactly where you belong. His hands slip up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers gently threading through your hair as his lips part against yours. His tongue slips through, finding yours effortlessly as the kiss deepens, his world melting away until it’s just you. Just the way it should be.
Until the weirdest thing happens.
It's almost as if the one person Jungkook least wanted to see on the entire planet had suddenly—
“Y/nn?”
Taehyung’s voice shatters the moment, and you immediately break away, furrowing your brows in confusion as you turn toward the sound. You’re still snug against Jungkook’s chest, his arms reluctant to let you go, tightening a little when he realizes who it is.
“Tae?” you blink, your hands dropping to Jungkook’s forearms, gently prying them loose as you glance up at him. His jaw is set tight and you wipe a bit of your lip gloss from the corner of his mouth. “One sec, Kookie. Lemme just—”
“Y/n…” Taehyung’s knock on the glass comes again, this time a little more impatient, and Jungkook's eyes roll to the back of his head.
“I’m coming,” you call out, slipping from Jungkook’s grasp and flicking the latch on the library door. The cold night air rushes in as Taehyung steps inside, a warm smile instantly spreading across his face as he spots you.
“Hey,” he greets, moving closer and wrapping his arms around you in a quick hug. You reciprocate, giving him a light pat on the back, but his hands slide down to rest around your waist, lingering in a way that makes Jungkook’s tongue poke the inside of his cheek.
Jungkook shifts his weight from one foot to the other, your bag slipping slightly down his arm as he stuffs his hands into his pockets, his narrowed gaze fixed on the back of Taehyung’s head.
“What’re you doing here?” you ask, stepping back from Taehyung’s hold, your brows knitting as you look up at him.
Taehyung sighs, letting his hands fall to his sides. “You weren’t answering my calls or texts for the past three days. I even went to your dorm and asked Nari what you were up to, but she told me you died and to go away, so… I’ve been trying all the places I thought you’d be.”
Jungkook’s brows shoot up, disbelief flickering across his face. The sheer guts it took for Taehyung to admit all that in front of him? And the fact that he was doing all that in the first place? He thought he was your biggest simp, but shit.
Then, as the words settle, a wave of relief washes over him. You haven’t talked to Taehyung in three days. So, you really weren’t texting him that night.
His heart soars.
You offer Taehyung a small smile. “I’ve just been really busy, sorry, Tae.”
Taehyung chuckles, shrugging lightly. “Yeah, seems like it…” His eyes flicker over to Jungkook, lingering on the bag hanging from his arm for just a second before he nods in acknowledgment. “Hey, Kook.”
The striker forces a tight-lipped smile, returning the goalie's nod. “Hey, Tae.”
The tension in the air is thick, making you clear your throat awkwardly. Being stuck in an empty room with the both of them? Fucking nightmare fuel.
You knew getting involved with two guys from the same sports team and friend group was a disaster waiting to happen. But in your defense, it wasn’t exactly the plan...
You’d already been hooking up with Jungkook casually for a while before Taehyung even entered the picture. In fact, the last time you had slept with Jungkook was right before a match that Taehyung had invited you to watch. You’d been texting with him for a while, and the plan was to go out to dinner after the game. Jungkook had never invited you to a game…
Anyway, not exactly your proudest moment.
It's just that when Jungkook had gotten all pouty and sad after you told him you wanted to see where things with Taehyung could go, and there were twenty minutes left before the game started…
It was a parting gift, okay?
Taehyung had been a great boyfriend, truly. Caring, funny, easy on the eyes — things had been going well. You weren’t even sure why you ended it after five months.
Maybe it had something to do with the way your stomach would twist every time you were out with the group, and Taehyung wasn’t the one making you laugh the hardest that night.
Maybe it had something to do with the way you’d sit in the bleachers, watching their games, but your eyes would somehow always drift to Jersey #1 instead of Jersey #30.
Maybe it had something to do with the fact that a twenty-minute quickie with #1 had been more intense, more mind-numbing than anything you experienced during five months with #30.
But those were just theories, of course.
“Have you eaten?”
Taehyung’s voice cuts through your thoughts, and you blink, refocusing on him. “Hmm? Uh, no. But I was going to—”
“Hanjie’s is open late. Did you wanna grab something for dinner?” he suggests, his tone hopeful as he looks over at Jungkook and adds, “You down, Kook?”
Your brows furrow instantly at the worst idea you’ve ever heard. As your lips part to impolitely decline the invitation, Jungkook responds faster than you can.
“Yeah, I could eat.”
Your eyes snap to Jungkook, wide with horror. He’s holding Taehyung’s gaze, the faintest hint of amusement tugging at the corners of his lips as he adjusts your bag on his shoulder. He glances at you, his head tilting slightly like he’s enjoying this far too much.
You narrow your eyes at him, disbelief written all over your face, before turning back to Taehyung. You’re about to put an end to this terrible plan, but Taehyung chimes in again, all smiles and casual energy. “Cool, let’s go.”
He pushes the door open, holding it for the two of you, looking back at you expectantly.
Your fists clench at your sides, and you stay rooted to the spot, but then Jungkook’s warm hand presses gently against the small of your back. “C’mon, know you’re hungry,” he murmurs, leaning down so only you can hear. “I’ll pay.”
You roll your eyes, but reluctantly step forward, letting him guide you into the cold night air. Taehyung happily lets the door swing shut behind you both, glancing back as Jungkook locks the double doors behind him with the keys you hadn’t even realized he’d slipped from your hands. He drops them back into your bag, pulling his hood back up over his head before stuffing his hands into his pants pockets.
You fall into step between the two football players, walking silently down the cold campus path toward Hanjie’s Sikdang. You hug your arms tighter across your chest, sending up a silent prayer that one of the street lamps overhead would give way and fall right on top of you.
You trail behind Taehyung and Jungkook, who are already making their way to a booth. They slide into opposite sides, both of them leaving an open space beside them, clearly expecting you to take a seat.
Your jaw clenches as you glance between the two options, your eyes drifting to a stool at the edge of the room. It's tempting, but dragging it all the way over to sit at the end of the table would make you look like a fucking freak, and so, with a resigned sigh, you walk toward the left side of the booth.
Jungkook bites back a smirk as you slide in next to him, promptly grabbing your bag to plop it on the other side of the seat, removing the barrier between you. His knee bumps yours under the table, and though you roll your eyes, you pick up your phone, pretending to check your notifications to hide the smile tugging at your lips.
Menus are passed around, and the three of you glance over them briefly. Taehyung orders a steak sandwich, while you and Jungkook opt for cheeseburgers and he gets fries for the table.
As the pretty waitress walks away, you steal a quick glance at Jungkook, curious if he noticed the way she blatantly flirted with him. But, to your surprise, he seems completely unfazed, swirling his straw in his drink with casual indifference. Hm. He definitely noticed.
Taehyung, ever the easygoing type, tries to break the silence by bringing up a lighthearted memory. From when the two of you were fucking dating.
"Y/nn always used to order iced tea on our dates," he chuckles, glancing at the drink both you and Jungkook just ordered. "Guess some things never change, huh?"
Your eyes flicker toward Jungkook, who already knows how much you love iced tea. He’s watched you order it countless times on group nights out, and sometimes, he’s even ordered it for you when you were running late or in the bathroom when the waiter came by. His lips pull into a tight smile as he takes a sip from his glass, clearly trying not to react to the comment.
"Yeah," Jungkook says, his voice casual but carrying a subtle edge. "I know."
The conversation drifts from small talk to more neutral topics, and soon the food arrives. You try to focus on your cheeseburger, nodding along as Taehyung chats about practice and classes, chiming in here and there. But somehow, the conversation keeps veering back to your shared past with him.
"Remember when you used to bring me snacks to practice? Gummies and pocky sticks?" Taehyung teases with a grin, leaning back in his seat as he takes a bite of his steak sandwich. "You were so good at taking care of me back then."
You laugh lightly, brushing it off with a nonchalant shrug. It's an old chapter of your life, one that no longer holds any weight. But beside you, Jungkook’s energy shifts. His body grows tense, his thigh pressing harder against yours as his grip on his burger tightens.
You glance over at him, your brows furrowing slightly. He’s clearly frustrated, and you just blink slowly. You didn’t care about Taehyung’s comments. Why should he?
"Yeah," Jungkook mutters, his voice low as he shoots Taehyung a tight smile. "I’m sure Y/nn’s still great at taking care of people."
There’s a sharpness to his words, a barely-veiled implication that makes you chew slower on your bite of the burger. You glance down at your plate, shaking your head subtly as discomfort creeps up on you. Taehyung, oblivious or unbothered to the underlying tension, laughs at Jungkook’s comment and nods along.
"Yeah, I’m sure she is," he agrees, his tone light and carefree.
You force a smile, but the entire situation feels like a cruel joke. You glance at the door, reconsidering your poor life choices. A free cheeseburger is definitely not worth the month’s supply of testosterone you’ve just inhaled in the past fifteen minutes.
"I'm tired," you say after another minute, setting down your half-eaten burger. Both boys glance up at you, Taehyung is the first to respond.
"Long day?" he asks softly, biting into a few fries.
You nod, reaching for a napkin to wipe the grease from your fingers. Jungkook’s gaze is heavy on the side of your face, and when you look up, you see him finish chewing before giving you a nod.
"Okay, let's go," he says, waiting for you to slide out of the booth.
You shake your head, gesturing toward the food still left on both their plates. “Finish eating, I’ll wait until you guys are done.”
Jungkook’s lips part, probably to insist, but Taehyung beats him to it. "I'm pretty much done... I can walk you back to your dorm if you want? It's getting dark out."
Your head turns to Taehyung, blinking at his unfairly gorgeous face before you smile appreciatively. "That's okay, Tae. It’s not far, I’ll be fine."
Jungkook looks down at his plate, his jaw working as his tongue runs along the inside of his cheek. Without a word, he picks up the last bite of his burger, shoves it into his mouth, and quickly chugs the rest of his iced tea. He swallows, then pats your thigh with finality. "C’mon, let’s go."
You glance up at him, noting the firm set of his expression as you grab your phone from the table. Jungkook reaches for your bag, sliding it off the booth as you both prepare to leave. Taehyung hums in surprise, stuffing a few more fries into his mouth before sliding out of the booth with a smile.
"Hey, no, if you’re still hungry, eat," you frown lightly, tilting your head at Taehyung. "We’ll wait."
Beside you, Jungkook’s hand tightens around your waist in protest, and you give him a pointed nudge in the ribs with your elbow. He exhales sharply through his nose, clearly annoyed but relenting.
Taehyung laughs through his mouthful, shaking his head before swallowing. "Nah, all good. I’m full now, let’s head out."
Jungkook’s hand slips from your waist momentarily as he tosses a few notes down for the bill and a tip before placing his arm back around you. Taehyung follows suit, placing his cut on top of Jungkook’s and tucking his wallet back into his pocket. He falls back into step with the two of you, still smiling as you guys leave the diner.
The walk back to the female dormitories isn’t long, the three of you strolling along the stony path under the soft glow of the streetlights.
Things are okay now, your stomach satiated and the fact that you're going to be tucked up in your bed soon easing your mind. Taehyung walks to your right, Jungkook to your left, the latter quiet, the former chatty. As the temperature drops even further, you can’t help the slight shiver that runs down your spine.
Taehyung notices immediately and stops his ramble. “Here,” he says, starting to shrug off his jacket, his voice as warm as ever. “You’re freezing. Take this.”
Normally, you would’ve accepted it without a second thought because 1. it's a cute boy offering you his jacket, and 2. why would you want to freeze to death?
But when you feel Jungkook tense slightly beside you, you pause. Suppressing the urge to roll your eyes, you gently rub your hand over Taehyung’s shoulder in thanks, offering him a small smile as you decline. “I’m fine, Tae, thanks though.”
As you glance over at Jungkook, you catch his eyes, narrowing yours as they shift up and down his hoodie. If he doesn’t want you to have Taehyung’s jacket so bad, he can offer you his own.
He holds your gaze, his lips quirking up in amusement as his tongue darts out to swipe over his lip. His hands easily drop to the hem of his hoodie, lifting it slightly to reveal his bare stomach with no shirt underneath.
You can barely suppress the laugh bubbling in your throat at the sight of his cute tummy after eating, but you keep your expression serious, raising a brow as if to say, Okay, and? Give it.
Jungkook tilts his head at you, his lips curving upwards, a breathy laugh escaping as he bites down on his lip ring. With a resigned shake of his head, he stops walking, both hands going to the hem of his hoodie as he starts pulling it off.
A snicker bursts out of you, and before he can expose himself any further, your hands fly out to stop him, tugging his hoodie back down. “Shameless,” you mutter, shaking your head, still laughing softly as you grab his arm and drag him along.
You fall back into step with Taehyung, who glanced back curiously at the two of you, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he shrugged his jacket back on. When you finally reach the steps of your dorm block, you climb up the first one, turning back to face them.
“Thanks for walking me home. Sorry I was a bummer at dinner.” You give a small, apologetic smile, your hands clutching the strap of your purse. “It was good, I’m just tired.”
Jungkook blinks, his eyes raking over you, hands shoved deep into his pants pockets as he remains quiet. Meanwhile, Taehyung shakes his head, his voice gentle. “Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong. Love spending time with you, no matter how you’re feeling.”
Your heart tugs at his words, the familiar pang of guilt settling in your chest. You feel bad for ignoring his texts, but even worse because, as sweet as his words are, you wish they were coming from Jungkook instead.
God, you fucking suck.
“Thank you, Taehyungie.” You offer him a soft smile, setting your bag down on the step before stepping forward to wrap your arms around his neck.
He steps closer, his hands curling gently around your sides as he pulls you into a warm hug. His body relaxes slightly in your embrace, the sound of the nickname you'd always call him when you were together turning his limbs to jelly. Your hands rub gently across his back before you give him a light squeeze.
As you pull back, your eyes meet Jungkook’s. His expression is hard to read — his gaze on you, but not quite meeting yours. Taehyung’s hands reluctantly fall away from your waist, and he quickly wipes the disappointment from his face, replacing it with his signature bear-y grin.
You shift in your stance as Taehyung steps back, his eyes wandering around the dark, empty courtyard. A soft sigh lodges in your chest as the quiet stretches on, Jungkook continuing to stand there, his eyes still resting on you. Unmoving, silent.
After a long minute, Taehyung breaks the silence, his voice light but tinged with curiosity. “Ready to go, Kook?”
He glances at Jungkook, clearly surprised by his stillness, as if he expected him to have said goodbye to you properly by now — maybe with a hug or at least some words.
That makes two of you.
a/n ermm i know that dorms def do nott have seperate bedrooms at uni... 😭 i realized once i was on my final re-read and i was nawtt going back to re-edit it all 👄 so let's use our big imaginations for this one!! lemme know what u think? love youu <3
perm taglist: @elinaki92 @parapiop7 @photogenius-530 @crazy-eight17 @aalisiyahxstar @lovieku @apobangpogirlyyy @myjungkookthighs @whoa-jo @kooeuphoria @junecat18 @fr0ggieth1nk @joonwater
#📁bt.docx#jungkook#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook#jungkook imagine#jungkook fic#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#bts#jungkook fanfic#jungkook bts#bts jungkook#bts fanfic#bts angst#bts imagine#bts fic#taehyung#jimin
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Logan and Wade's relationship post movie is slow burn in the most infuriating way cause they have so many hang ups about the relationship
On Logan's side: He fell in love with Wade first. Which mortifies him cause 1) Wade is still in love with Vanessa 2) they're roommates in a one bedroom apartment with Blind Al until he gets his life together in a parallel world where he's technically dead and his SSN is donezo 3) Wade Winston Wilson is probably the most embarrassing person to have a crush on, let alone be in love with. Logan will defend him to heaven and hell and back, but even he knows it's crazy to fall for the Blowjob Queen of Sasqatoon.
He's fully aware of his feelings but tries to squash it down, acts like he hates Wade's guts. Even though every morning he wakes up early to make coffee for the both of them before Wade wakes up. Even though he's memorized what's his favorite gun cleaner and oil are, then stocks them up before Wade even notices his supply is running low. Even though he's the most at peace when Wade and Laura are having Girls' Night in the living room, wearing face masks and watching A24 horror films, while he's kicking back with Blind Al in the kitchen, sipping shitty beer.
On Wade's side: He has no idea Logan likes him. Or, better to say, he has no idea WHY Logan would like him. He might be gods perfect idiot, but if 2+2 = 22, then if someone tells you to shut up and stabs you in every argument to be had, they can't possibly LIKE like you. So even when the initial hostility of being new roommates dies down, he takes the domesticity they find together a side effect of being a Wolverine over the age of 40 with a teenage daughter and no active income in sight. "Beggars can't be ungrateful bastards who couch surf for free" and all that jazz.
Wade is also still hooked up on Vanessa. She'll always be his soul mate, and that will never change. So they try to talk it out. They go on a couple dates. They try to work something, anything out, but in the end they both agree it just isn't right anymore. They still love each other, but that doesn't mean they should be in a relationship. They both deserve better than to be stuck in the past.
So by the time Wade is single for real, Logan is already set on them not getting together. Previous points aside, he's no rebound chick. He just got promoted from Worst Wolverine to Okay-est Wolverine (via the coffee mug Laura got him from etsy) -- so he's absolutely NOT fucking gonna be a sloppy bitch and make a move on his roommate after he got out of a whatever the fuck situationship with his ex-dead, ex-fiance.
When they finally get together, it's so far down the line and so slow-burn, that they genuinely don't know how they got there. All they know is that they share a new one bedroom apartment together, alone (but Blind Al lives on the same floor of the complex) and that they are so far gone in domestic bliss that they're arguing with each other over how to properly assemble a pet condo for Mary Puppins.
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— come
Toge was always so careful and meticulous about using his cursed speech, not wanting to impact himself or his friends. But when you’re out getting drunk in an attempt to forget your asshole of an ex-boyfriend, and he’s trying to get you home a certain word slips out and it doesn’t quite have the intended effect.
Thanks to the cum/come discourse for sparking this idea.
Pairing: Inumaki Toge x f!reader.
Warnings: 18+, dubious consent (to be safe— Toge uses his cursed speech on reader without consent but she likes it), exhibitionism, voyeurism, public setting, unestablished relationship, intoxication.
Word Count: 3k.
You didn’t expect your weekend to end like this. Saturday evening you’d been happily planning a holiday with your boyfriend, and then by Sunday morning, you’d broken up. His speech had started with an “it’s not you, it’s me” before you’d ended up throwing him out of your house and calling your best friend Maki.
And that’s how you’d found yourself in some shitty bar in a rough part of town on a fucking Sunday evening as you throw back drinks to try to numb the pain. It was surprisingly busy inside the dingy bar, and you were just glad it wasn’t one of the band nights they seemingly had each weekend if the obnoxious posters splashed all over the walls were anything to go by. The loud music pounding through the speakers was enough to set the vibe without being so overbearing that it vibrated through to your skull.
Being with your friends arguably made things worse as you glanced across the table at Maki and Nobara who were so clearly in love— why couldn’t you have something like that?
Lamenting softly you eyed your empty glass before honing in on the warm dregs for Yuuta’s fruity cocktail. Watered down by melting ice as you slurped the rest of it back through his straw, left making an irritating noise as you tried to get every last drop of alcohol from the bottom of the glass.
“Yeah, I think you got it all.” Megumi groaned in irritation as he took the hurricane glass out of your grasp, placing it back in front of Yuuta as he rolled his eyes.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get another one.” You huffed, tapping his thigh to let you out of the booth as he moved to stand.
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Megumi countered but did not attempt to stop you as you approached the bar. Clumsily weaving through the other patrons who loitered around the area with drinks in hand, as you narrowly missed walking into a guy holding two beers.
Toge watched you closely as you made a beeline for the bar. He was just happy to be here with you at first, nursing his beer as condensation began to ripple down the bottle as the liquid built to room temperature. The blunt nail on his thumb scratched at the damp silver Asahi label as he languidly peeled it from the bottle. His eyes focused on you as you leaned over the bar to order another round of shots, your skirt raised just enough that he could probably get a peek of the panties you were wearing tonight — not that he hadn’t accidentally snuck a glimpse when you’d crossed your legs on the train into the city earlier (pink, they were pink) — but this meant if he could see your panties now so could any other pervert in this dingy dive bar.
Fuck.
“Toge?” Yuuji calls, “Where are you going?”
Toge waves him off as he moves on instinct. Abandoning his long-forgotten beer as he navigates himself through the crowd towards you, violet eyes glancing at a man who was clearly checking you out as his brows creased into a frown. Deliberately coming to stand behind you to hide your ass from the perverts in the room as he lays a gentle hand on the small of your back.
It’s the way your eyes light up when you see him that has his heart thunderous in his chest, so loud he thinks you could probably hear it over the abrasive drum and bass track that was currently playing.
“Toge!” You turn to greet him, as though you weren’t just sitting beside him in the booth moments earlier.
“Takana?” He looked at you with concerned eyes as your smile faltered.
You’d definitely had too much to drink.
“But I don’t wanna leave yet, Toge.” You pouted at his question, your arms immediately curled around his shoulders as he had to take a step back to prevent his increasingly evident bulge from pressing against your front, “And I just ordered us more shots!”
“Okaka.“ Toge frowned, already certain you wouldn’t be able to stand if you had much more.
“Don’t be like that,” You pouted, “You said you were gonna come out with me tonight to make me forget him, but you haven’t even danced with me.”
If you’d thought Toge had any inclination to dance with you, you should’ve been sorely mistaken. But the thought of you going anywhere without him dressed like this had a rage burning in his chest as he thought about anyone else laying even just a finger on you.
“Sujiko.” He motioned to leave, his warm palm splayed against your hip as his fingers pressed into you. Feeling the plush of your body dip beneath his hand as his thoughts ran rampant, thinking about how pretty you’d look beneath him while he palmed every curve.
“You’re no fun,” You furrowed your brows, and your bottom lip jutted out so adorably that he had to physically restrain himself from leaning forward to kiss you. For the first time, he wished that his cursed speech worked on the user because he’d shout a resounding “Don’t do it!” just to get himself to stop.
“Okaka.” He repeated, thankful you could barely see his face beneath his mask as a pastel pink dusted his cheeks. Toge never wanted you to think he was boring, the banter you’d managed to maintain even though you were dating a less favourable guy kept him close to you despite your relationship. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t pleased that you’d finally broken up, even if it meant you were hurting now.
“Oh, yeah— you are fun?” You teased. Toge could see the cogs in your head working as you motioned back to the bar, “Then do a shot with me.”
Toge sighed beneath his mask as he kept one of his arms poised around your waist in a subtle sign of possession as he came to stand beside you at the bar. Glaring at the bright blue liqueur that’s sat in a rather large-looking shot glass— just thankful it wasn’t whiskey again.
He didn’t enjoy letting alcohol get the best of him, especially with his cursed speech. It lowered his inhibitions and made him more susceptible to talking, which could be a danger in itself. Texting someone to “go die” playfully during a game or banter was one thing, but actually saying it when he’s shitfaced would have dire consequences.
“Shake shake,” Toge replied.
The delighted squeal you let out at his answer as he moved his arm from its position to pull his collar down made his lips curl into a smile as he reached out for the glass. Holding it gently as he waited for you to do the same as you leaned your body weight against him, your perfume invading his senses as he tried to remember to breathe.
God, you’re so tipsy.
“Three, two, one—” You practically sing as you throw the shot back.
Toge mimics your movements, not expecting the shot to burn as much as it does as it travels down his throat. Tempted to pull out his cough medicine to try and alleviate the tension, but it’s quickly forgotten when he watches your reaction. Your face is scrunched up adorably in disgust as you stick your tongue out, slamming the glass back down on the bar as you make a cute sound of repulsion.
“I thought it would taste nice because it’s blue,” You whine, “That was even worse than the last one— let me get us something else.”
Your words are slurred as you move to lean back over the bar, trying to get the barman’s attention as Toge tries to pull you back.
“Okaka.” He shakes his head, moving his hand from around your waist in favour of wagging a finger in front of you.
He wants to shout at you, remind you that you promised you’d leave after this, but he doesn’t. Pulling his mask back up around his lips to avoid temptation as he tries to move you away from the bar.
“Tuna tuna.” He presses, as you move back to lean against him. Your arms back around his shoulders as you sway from side to side.
“But I don’t wanna go yet, Toge,” You pout, “It’s still so early.”
Toge ignores your statement as he manages to walk you far enough from the bar that you’re not in danger of ordering more shots. The guy behind the bar was giving you far more attention than necessary and he’s certain he would’ve left the bottle if you’d given him the option.
“Tuna.” He murmurs as you pull his mask down to stare up at his face. Giving him the same childish pout as he mirrored your actions with a pout of his own, showing off his curse marks as you resist the urge to stroke them.
“You go home Toge, but I wanna stay,” You huff, you throw your head back childishly and Toge has to tighten his grip on your waist to prevent you from falling backwards, “Yuuji will take me home.”
Toge was smart enough to know that Yuuji would be completely incapable of getting you home after the sheer number of two-for-one strawberry daiquiris he’d consumed tonight as he gave you a deadpan look.
“Shake shake.” He replied sarcastically, his voice oozing with ridicule. Keeping his grip on your hip as he tried to move you to leave but you kept your feet planted in place.
“Come on, just one more shot and then we’ll go—”
Of course, he should’ve known you wouldn’t be satisfied with one, and the adorable pout on your lips would usually have been enough to have him crumbling, but he needed to get you home.
You shook your head immaturely when he tried again to pull you away from the bar, practically whining as you begged him to stay, causing a disgruntled grunt to vibrate in his chest as he tugged your arm.
“Come.” The word left his lips before he’d even thought about the implication, already turning his body to leave.
And it should’ve made you follow him— But that isn’t how his cursed speech decides to work, and that’s definitely not where your mind is right now.
You can feel it before it happens, your body torn from your consciousness as you feel the familiar tingles of energy pulse through your veins as your climax builds in your pelvis— but this is different. The desire blooms so hard and fast that it’s impossible to fight it, as you try to clamp your thighs together to satiate the ache as your arms tighten around Toge’s shoulders.
He knows what he’s done before he sees it happen. The pleasured look on your face as your thick lashes flutter and your glossy lips part in a shameless whine, manicured nails drag against the messy hair at the base of his skull as your legs become weak. Leaning more of your weight against his a debauched, desperate whine spills from your lips.
Oh, shit. It’s loud, and he’s certain someone has got to have heard it, protectively pulling you closer as though he’s afraid someone else might get to see you like this.
Toge feels his cock respond, pulsing against his pants as it begs to be set free. To feel your trembling walls hug him tightly as he slides into you for the first time— he’s fucked his fist more times than he cares to count to this image, and somehow seeing it here and now could never compare to all those dirty fantasies he’s had about you.
The pleasure is all-consuming and nothing compared to the orgasms you’ve had in the past. It feels as though an invisible energy has injected its way into your veins and has filled you with an inexplicable warmth as your climax surges through you in harsh waves. The intensity has you weak at the knees as you cling to Toge to stop yourself from buckling to the floor, burying your face in his neck as Toge wishes he could see the way your eyes roll as your lashes tickle his throat and your lipstick smears against his collar, not that he cares—
It’s too much, too intense as your hole clenches around nothing and your clit pulses. Thankful for the loud music coming out through the speakers as a sinful whine spills from your lips, your hips jerk wildly as you feel Toge’s hard cock press against your tummy. His breath comes out in harsh pants as he tries to think of something, anything to stop himself from creaming his pants. Already feeling the fresh pre drooling out of his cockhead and soaking his boxers at the mere sight of you.
“Fu-uck, Toge.” You whimper, your nails drag against his scalp as your fingers weave into his messy hair to tug roughly. Stealing a sudden gasp from the back of his throat as he feels you press your body against his.
Toge tries to commit the sound of your moans to memory. The sultry, debased sound of your voice crying out his name as he forced an orgasm from you that he’ll no doubt be fucking his fist to later tonight as he feels your breasts drag against his chest. He feels like a pervert for getting off on this, no better than the men who were loitering around the bar for a glimpse up your skirt.
A real creep— but somehow this was worth it, he thinks.
In all those nefarious thoughts he’s ever had about you while he’s stroking his cock, he’s never once imagined you’d look this good. Completely ruined by him, and he hadn’t even touched you. The corrupt whines he’d stolen from your lips continue well into the tremours of your orgasm as he clings to the sound of them, unabashedly shifting closer so he can hear the high-pitched breathy whines you make over the music playing through the speakers.
He doesn’t even care if your friends can see at this point if he’ll be roasted in the group chat or vilified for it later. He reckons it would all be worth it having finally seen you fall apart for him like this.
And little did Toge know that you didn’t seem to mind much either. Your ex had never made you cum like that— an all-encompassing climax that left you feeling like putty. Your legs quivered as you felt the aftershocks continue to trickle through you all the way down to the tips of your toes. An impassioned energy that had your mind hazy, laced with cheap alcohol as it managed to consume your consciousness.
It’s embarrassing. Knowing that anyone could turn to watch you in the crowded bar, to see just how blissed out you are as you lose control of your body and your senses. The pleasure practically forced itself upon you as you drown in it, wishing he’d help you through it with his fingers against your clit or inside your empty cunt as it continued to flex completely empty. Wondering if this is what he could do with his cursed speech, what Toge would be able to do with his hand— with his cock.
You were looking up at him with the most fucked out expression on your face, it made it difficult for Toge not to want to kiss you— especially with your lips so close.
“Fucking hell, Toge,” You exhaled shakily as you clung to him, “That was—”
He locks his jaw to bite back the urge to cough, trying to swallow it in his throat as he moves to pull his mask back over his face. Hoping to shield his now crimson cheeks but your hand is quicker, reaching out to prevent him from pulling it up.
Toge wraps your wrist in a rough palm to tug your hand away from his mask with a frown, feeling his thumb press into your pulse point as you practically whine at him. Your hips still gyrating as you start to come down from your bliss, his eyes flit out to see if anyone seems to have noticed but thankfully the bar is raucous as he holds you against him as you continue to ride the little aftershocks of pleasure.
You use your grip on the back of his head to tug him down to your height, your glossy lips barely graze his as you press your lips together. A kiss that leaves him craving more as his tongue peeks out to swipe at the gloss, tasting the sugary hint of cherry as you go cross-eyed looking at the curse mark on his tongue.
Toge can’t stop himself now, one taste and he’s addicted. His warm palm smooth along your side as he maps out the curves of your body, inching his way up until he finds your face. Cupping your cheek in his hand as he leans forward to kiss you, his lips press firmly against yours as you gasp softly, allowing his tongue to delve further as he strokes it against every crevice. Tilting his head to deepen the kiss as you brush your tongue against his gently, feeling yourself melt into him as your hand's ball into fists in the fabric of his shirt.
He knows it’s wrong. You’re inebriated, he’s already taken advantage of you by using his cursed speech and yet he can’t stop himself. You’re like a drug and he’s addicted as he longs for one more taste, just another hit and then he’ll quit— except he never wants to quit you.
Toge has never felt so much disdain for the basic human need to breathe as he reluctantly breaks the kiss, keeping his lips pressed against yours as he pants against you. Your warm breath fans his face as half-lidded eyes meet his, your lipstick now smeared across the sides of your lips and chin as you give him a sweet smile.
“Toge,” You whine, “You didn’t have to use your cursed speech on me to make me cum.”
“Ikura.” He curses beneath his breath at the sultry lilt to your tone.
“Can you make me cum again without it?” You ask so sweetly it has his body reacting before his mind as his neglected cock throbs beneath his pants.
Yeah, you were definitely going to be the death of him.
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ask translation: today's rant, girls, i can't get it out of my head that jeonghan is totally that "friend" who sends you a message a second after you remove the @ of your last relationship from your bio. "baby, I saw that you deleted his @, did something happen? Is everything okay? you know you can talk about anything with your hannie, right?" "wow, what an jerk, do you want to come over today, princess?" WARNINGS: smut, fingering, doggy-style, friend!jeonghan, recent break-up
PORTUGUESE VERSION
it’s a matter of seconds. you barely take his @ out of your bio, and the “ding” from your phone already notifies you. guess who? that’s right—jeonghan. and you know exactly what he’s going to say before you even open the message. it’s almost automatic; his timing is so damn perfect that you almost think he’s been stalking your profile, waiting for the smallest slip-up, a little sign.
“hey, baby,” he starts, casual as ever, “saw you took his name out of your bio… something happened?” you read it and can practically see his smug little smile while he’s typing, just loving the drama. “tsk, motherfucker,” you mutter to yourself, but you’re laughing. then he follows up: “you know you can tell your hannie anything, right?”
you roll your eyes, but ignoring him? impossible. the next message doesn’t even let you hesitate.
“god, what an idiot. wanna come over tonight, princess? got that wine you love…”
and there he’s got you. he knows it. he knows that the “heart-to-heart” is just a flimsy excuse, you know what he wants, and that “motherfucker” you muttered? already forgotten. the worst part is you don’t even resist. you’re already texting back before you can think twice:
“give me fifteen. actually have the wine, or i’m out,” you shoot back, adding that little side-eye emoji he always teases you for.
not even five seconds later, he replies: “bet.”
at his place, things start slow—he hands you the glass and goes, “spill it all, babe.” you actually try talking about your ex, maybe add some drama for effect… but he cuts you off, saying he doesn’t wanna hear about that “loser,” and before you know it, the conversation’s become something else entirely. he teases you, like always, and it doesn’t take long before that “friendly” vibe slips into something much more serious.
the wine might as well have gone straight between your legs. minutes later, jeonghan’s there, face buried between your thighs, his mouth working over the wet clit while he keeps his eyes locked on yours. he makes it look like an art form, taking his time, slow, drawing you out more and more—and you, impatient as hell, nearly losing it every time he stops just to throw in some little comment. he lifts his head slightly, lips glistening, with that smug glint in his eye.
“how could he lose you, huh?” he’s not actually asking; he just wants to see you needier. you press your thighs against him, trying to make him shut up and eat you out, but he just laughs, naughty.
“god, you’re so impatient, knew you’d be like this…” he knows exactly the effect he has on you.
you let out a frustrated moan, and he laughs again—he’s clearly feeding off this. “relax, princess, not gonna leave you hanging.” he says it, but he doesn’t speed up. you’re practically begging by the time he finally decides to quit playing games.
he fucks you so good that if you’d known it would always be like this with him, the idea of dating anyone but jeonghan would’ve never even crossed your mind.
he’s got you on all fours on his couch, no mercy, thrusting deep with that thick cock, your cries coming out rough and strained, head tilted back as he holds nothing back, fingers gripping your hair just to make you scream his name louder. the angle leaves your gasps sounding suffered, desperate.
jeonghan, obviously, is eating this up. he notices when you’re already dripping all over his couch, and just to make it even worse, he gathers up that little drip and rubs it right on your sensitive clit, making you melt like jelly, your body going limp on his couch until he eases his grip on your hair so he doesn’t hurt you.
he moans shamelessly, the sound probably even louder than yours, and it catches you off guard. he doesn’t hold back, telling you how long he’s wanted this, how many times he’s dreamed about fucking you exactly like this.
“you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this pretty pussy, baby…” he whispers, and you feel that delicious shiver on the back of your neck. “if you hadn’t picked that dumbass… we could’ve been fucking like this ages ago.”
he thrusts deeper, but moving slower, just so you can feel every inch as he murmurs in your ear. his touch is firm, fingers gliding down to squeeze that sensitive spot, giving it a playful pinch just to watch you shiver, rolling your eyes as you gasp out his name.
“this is what you wanted, princess? gonna appear here on my place, begging for my cock again.. and im going to give you what you want... always.”
#seventeen imagines#seventeen reactions#seventeen scenarios#seventeen x reader#seventeen headcanons#svt imagines#seventeen#seventeen smut#svt smut#jeonghan smut#jeonghan imagines#jeonghan#jeonghan x reader#seventeen fanfic#seventeen fic#yoon jeonghan x reader#jeonghan x y/n#jeonghan x you#jeonghan x oc
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the one with the role play — gojo satoru
— your husband breaking character during role play after you mention the one thing you shouldn’t have
suggestive, MDNI, established relationship (you’re married), written with f! reader in mind but think i kept it pretty gn, alcohol (nobody gets drunk, just a super quick mention of it as a choice of drink at the bar), strangers at the bar role play (or a failed attempt tbh), based on this talk post of mine, wc: 1.3k
“hey, love”, satoru broke the silence while the two of you were folding the laundry one afternoon. (yes, the strongest sorcerer always helps his wife with chores)
“say, love”, you quickly responded, without looking at him.
“you know, i was thinking — we’ve never tried role play”
“that’s what folding clothes made you think of?”, glancing at him you chuckled, “interesting”, raising an eyebrow teasingly.
“we’ve done pretty much everything but that. you’re not curious?”
now was not the time to tell him that you had done this before, with your ex, and that it was fun. no need to remind him that you had other partners before him and make him lose sleep for days to come, like that one time when he found your diary from high school in the attic and read about all the crushes and boyfriends you had. it took weeks and a lot of coddling on your part (you even had to start a satoru only diary and write his name into little hearts) for him to get over it. so you figured you’d keep this little detail to yourself and take it to the grave. or it would be your husband taken to the grave due to lethal jealousy steaming from the fact that another man had laid his hands on you in the past.
“s-sure”, you stuttered, thinking back to that excruciating memory, then cleared your throat before continuing — “yea, we can do that, why not”
“good then”, he tossed the shirt in his hands aside and stepped closer to you. circling his arms around your waist from behind — one hand eventually resting over your chest while the other stopping at your navel and gently rubbing it — he possessively pressed you against his chest and hummed contently.
“someone’s very excited about this, huh?”, you placed your hand over his and tilted your head back to peek at him.
“oh? can you tell?”, he grinned, playfully pushing his hips against you.
“that giant thing in your pants poking me from behind is giving you away, i’m afraid”
“it’s your fault though”, his head craned down so his lips could reach your forehead and trail soft kisses down to the tip of your nose.
standing on your tip toes you raised your hands to cup his cheeks and pecked him on the lips. “of course, it’s my fault that you’re getting all hot and bothered in the middle of the day like some pervert”
“i always get hot and bothered thinking about you”, he pecked you back, then slowly turned you around (concerned that you might hurt your neck if you kept that position up).
“any ideas?”, you asked.
“8pm, the bar around the corner”
“we’re to enact the classic strangers meeting at the bar, huh? okay. anything else?”
“nope, let’s improvise”
[8:13pm, at the bar]
sitting alone on the stool at the bar counter, you kept playing with your now half empty martini glass, drawing circles with it on the surface. you felt a bit weird sitting here pretending to be single and ready to mingle. but oh well.
he was late. you took another sip of your drink and grabbed your phone to check the time again.
“next one’s on me”, a painfully familiar voice approached you from behind. “if you would allow me, that is”
he was late on purpose, you figured. waiting for you to almost finish your drink so he could easily start a conversation by using such a lame but still quite effective line.
“i don’t normally accept drinks from strangers”, you gazed at him, “but an exception every now and then wouldn’t hurt, i assume”
a puckish smile curved on his lips. “may i?”, taking his sunglasses off, he asked for your permission to sit next to you.
“sure”
you were quite impressed at how seriously he was actually taking this, not breaking character even for a second so far. he had made up a brand new persona of himself, introducing himself as “sato kouya” — the ceo of a leading pharmaceutical company, temporarily living in tokyo for the purpose of a big business project.
“enough about me though”, eyes focused on you, he leaned his elbow on the bar counter and placed his chin on his palm. “tell me about yourself — what’s a beauty like you doing alone?”
you giggled (he was just so cute right now). “you’re lucky that i am alone — if we had met a week earlier, i would’ve still been married”
his expression froze at your words. the smile from a few seconds ago was now bleeding into a confused, almost creepy, look on his face — his lips still stretched into a grin while his eyes told a different story.
“hmmm… how so?”, he spoke in a monotone, his grin slowly fading away.
it would be a lie to say his weird reaction didn’t concern you at all but you decided to brush it off, and continued. “you see, i just got officially divorced. my ex husband and i tried our best to keep the marriage going for as long as we could but we were simply not meant to be”, you sighed. “this was the best for both of us”
“no way”, satoru whined. “no fucking way”
“umm… excuse me?”, you tilted your head in confusion.
“i don’t like this”, his face giving you a dejected grimace — brows knitted, lips pursed into a pout and eyes filled with a mix of panic and sorrow taking over the blue in them and turning it into a darker shade. “divorced? not meant to be? don’t even joke about this”, he almost cried out. the thought alone rubbed him the wrong way, tugged at his heartstrings so intensely that it forced him out of character right then and there, putting an end to your little role play escapade (rip sato kouya, you will be missed).
“satoru”, you caressed his hand, “baby. love of my life. this is just an act, please get it together”
“oh”, he gasped in utter shock after his focus fell on your hand and he noticed you were not wearing your ring. “you even took your ring off? why would you do that?”
great, this was getting worse now.
“because of the role play”, you spoke each word slowly, stressing on the last two very carefully.
“but i’m still wearing mine”, he protested, pointing at his ring, “see? you could’ve still acted fine with your ring on and without bringing up divorce and not meant to be’s”, he cried again, a hangdog look splattered on his face.
“i didn’t want to play the cheating wife, that’s why i took it o—“, you were cut off by another dramatic reaction.
“cheating? CHEATING? you considered this scenario?”, his voice was hitting desperate notes at this point. you couldn’t believe he had lost all reason over a play pretend.
you pinched the bridge of your nose before you spoke, “okay, that’s enough. you’re being ridiculous right now. i’m going home”
he followed after you like a kicked puppy, whining all the way home. but you had to admit — part of you really loved the fact that he went completely out of his mind over something so silly, that he didn’t know what to do with himself just thinking about you possibly leaving him even in a made-up scenario, that you held so much power over him…
extra:
[later that night, in bed]
done reading for the night and ready to sleep, you placed your book on the nightstand and looked over at your husband sitting with his arms crossed next to you in bed.
“still not over it?”, you nestled your head on his chest.
“no. hurts like hell just thinking about it”, he mumbled.
“come on, stop pouting”, you pinched his cheek, “you can’t go to sleep with a grumpy face”
“yea?”, he glanced down at you, “sit on it then — it’s the only way to wipe that pout off of it”
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dealing with it- chef luca
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gif from @ wiha-jun
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summary: you see carmen for the first time in years, things happen, but at least your husband is there for you :)
pairings: chef luca x fem! reader, EX carmen berzatto x reader
warnings: smoking, cursing, reader endorses smoking (it makes sense i promise), toxic relationships, fighting, happy ending, luca is a cutie pie, carm is an ass :(
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Carmen had been staring at you the whole night. You, standing diligently beside your mother, and Luca.
When dinner came and you sat beside Luca again, the question begged to leave his mouth, but he decided on waiting and watching.
“So Y/n,” Sydney turned to you. “I would love to literally pick your brain apart for the inspo of your last cookbook.”
You chuckled. “Well, Luca and I went all around the world on our honeymoon and-”
“What?” Carmen choked on his drink. “S-sorry did I fucking hear that right? Honeymoon?”
Luca sighed deeply, the energy at the table shifting. “Yes Carm, she said ‘honeymoon’.”
Honeymoon. You and Luca were married. Married and he didn’t even know it. Married, and he hadn’t even known that his last chance had been his last chance.
You were Chef Andrea’s daughter, and you were everyone’s forbidden fruit. You worked with them, trained with them, and Carmen had been so deeply interested in you, that he broke the rules. He went after you, and he didn’t even feel bad about it. You’d started out dating in secret, then slowly warmed your mom up to the idea, and suddenly it was out in the open. Sure you’d had fights and sure, maybe it wasn’t the most healthy relationship ever, but Carmen loved you. He still did. When it fell apart, it was all Carmen’s fault (as usual) and you’d sworn off chefs.
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“Fucking hell Bear! I’m asking you to do this one fucking thing for me, and it’s too fucking hard?” You shouted at the top of your lungs. “I love you! I moved to fucking Coppenhagen for you! I moved to fucking New York for you! What is your problem with me taking a job in London?! I can probably get you into the same place-”
“NO! No, I fucking don’t alright? You’re fucking- you’re fucking boring! You never make anything new- you’re so f-fucking obsessed with being the-the-the best at something that you won’t even try to innovate!”
You stood there, in his kitchen and he watched as the tears fell. He took a deep breath and stepped closer, holding your waist in his hands. He tried not to be offended or upset when you went rigid as he touched you, but he felt his heart break. “Baby I-I’m sorry, look, y’know I’m sorry-”
“You’re a piece of shit Carm. Just because I’m better than you doesn’t mean you get to talk to me like that. We’re not fucking trainees at my mom’s restaurant anymore, alright? I’m fucking better than you and i know it boils your fucking blood. I got this position. All on my own,” you spat. “You are the lowest of the low Carm. I swear to fucking god, if I ever date another chef again, kill me.”
And with that, you walked out. Out of his apartment and out of his life.
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“W-wait so-s-, you two got married? Since when?” Carmen laughed, but it was wrong. It was forced and haunted, strange.
“Since the 14th of July last year,” Luca smiled and you pressed a kiss to his cheek.
“Congratulations guys,” Sydney smiled. “Carm, say congratulations,” she whispered and Carm nodded furiously.
“Yeah! Yeah- congratulations to the liar and her shitty douchebag of a husband!” He cheered, gathering the attention of the other tables.
“Stop making a fucking scene Carm,” your voice cut through the ringing in his ears. “This isn’t about you. This is about my mom, and what this restaurant meant to people. Stop. Being. An. Asshole.”
He felt like he’d been effectively bitch slapped, and he quietened down, but not before kicking Luca under the table.
They’d both been after you, back in the day. And you’d picked Carm at first, and realised your mistake. When you met Luca in London, you weren’t going to mess it up again. 3 years later, you were a year married, and a lot happier. Too bad Carmen had to make everything about himself, again.
He went out to get some ‘air’ a little while later, and you followed him.
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“So…” you sighed, standing beside him. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he sighed. He watched as you took a cigarette out and lit it, then offered one to him. He shook his head.
“You quit?” You asked, blowing the smoke away from him. He nodded. “You should start again.”
He looked at you in confusion. “What?”
“You shouldn’t stop, you’re fucking crazy when you don’t smoke,” you chuckled, though everything you said was true. He’d tried to give it up for a month about 4 months into your relationship and it was the most stressful month of your life. You sighed as you thought about it. Every time he was rude to someone, you apologised for him. Every time he fucked something up, you made it up for him. Every time he did something stupid, you made it smart somehow. It was fucked up how much he relied on you, when you thought about it in hindsight. “Everyone will thank you.”
He laughed. “I guess that was a shitty month, huh?”
“One of the worst of my life,” you admitted.
There was a moment of silence.
“I miss it,” He admitted.
“Smoking? You can have the rest of this pack-”
“Us.”
You sighed. “You were doing so well,” you joked. “Just don’t bring it up Carm, we don’t need to dig up the past.”
“I want to,” he pleaded.
“I don’t,” you scoffed. “There’s nothing for us to talk about, nothing about us worked, nothing about us was ok, or normal, or happy, or-”
“Does he make you happy?” Carmen asked, venom in his tone. “Does he make you feel fuckin’-fuckin’ butterflies? Does he fuck you like I did? D-does he even see you the way I did? Does he make you laugh?”
“He doesn’t make me cry,” you smiled softly, thinking of Luca and how much you truly loved him. “He doesn’t make me question our relationship everyday. He doesn’t make me feel untalented and undeserving. He doesn’t make me feel used. He met me in London when I was crushed after our break-up, and he healed something he didn’t break in me, alright? He made me feel loved for the first time in a long time. My mom fucking loves him, a lot more than she liked you. He let me take everything at my own pace, and he never pushed me into something I wasn’t ready for. He wasn’t afraid to show his love for me to anyone! He didn’t make me question if we were even dating, ever! And the best part is, he fucking married me Carm, in this gorgeous ceremony where he cried while I came down the aisle and he cried during his vows. Do you want to know what his vows were? Ask him when we get inside, because he got his and mine fucking tattooed on his arm!” You were welling up at this stage. “He stood there with me, through thick and fucking thin, he made me feel loved when I felt unlovable, Carmen. And yes he gives me butterflies, yes he fucks me better than you ever did, and he sees me for who I am. So yes, he makes me very fucking happy Carmen.”
Carmen stood there for a moment, then nodded. “I still love you, you know that, right?”
You scoffed, stamping out your cigarette. “You might want to get over that,” and you turned away, and walked back into the dinner. The rest of the dinner was quick, and you skipped the invite to Sydney’s to retire to your hotel room. You sat on the bed, makeup wipes in hand as you tried to wash the night off of you.
“Hey darling,” Luca’s soft voice cut through the thoughts clouding your mind. “Do you want to talk about it?”
You smiled as he wrapped you up in a bear hug from behind, he was so perfect, so kind, so Luca. “Sure.”
“I heard a little bit of what you said to Carmy outside.”
You took a deep breath. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he sighed. “Before tonight, I was really fucking scared that when you found Carmy he’d somehow convince you I was a piece of shit and he’d sink his fucking claws into you again.”
You pressed a kiss to his arm and nodded. “He’s fucking…”
“He’s the worst,” he finished for you. “And I’m sorry about what he said tonight. He should’ve had the fucking manners to at least let us get to the third course before he started being a piece of shit.”
You both laughed, and you felt all the tension you held in slowly dissipate. “It was so delicious.”
“It was fucking amazing,” he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “You mum really did something special there.”
“At least we’ll see her more in London,” you shrugged. “I really loved that place.”
“So did I,” He sighed against your neck. “Remember training there? God, you were so fucking cute in your chef’s hat-”
“Hats make me look stupid!” You argued, but laughed regardless. You flung his arms off of you, and a wrestling match ensued, one that ended with him under you. You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, then he deepened it, his hands sneaking up your thighs and around your head.
“You look good in anything,” he whispered. “But my favourite thing you ever wore was your wedding dress.”
When you pulled away from his lips you saw the starry-eyed smile and sincere look on his face, and you knew you made the right choice.
Luca was your everything. Carmen was nothing now, and he had to live with that.
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the bear masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)
#chef luca x reader#chef luca#the bear#will poulter#luca x reader#luca the bear#luca the bear x reader#carmy berzatto#the bear s3#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x you#the bear fx#the bear season 3
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taste (y. jw)
✎ yang jungwon x reader synopsis you and Jungwon were drinking together, until you impulsively recommended to play spicy drinking games. he eventually agreed with your idea, and from there on you could discover something that he's been hiding from you and you decide to make it come true. genre drinking together, reader has supposedly bad drinking tolerance but actually lasted the entire way, drinking game, jungwon respects boundaries (as he should) but reader likes to push it, jungwon is shy when getting onto the spicy topics unlike reader who's bold, Hershey's chocolate syrup, teasing, not proofread warnings spicy drinking game/spicy question(s), VERY ALMOST smut (read at your own caution), very suggestive, food related (smudging on areas on the body to clean up), vivid description of licking, hickies word count 1.4k cly's note honestly writing suggestive/almost smut fics are lowkey out of my comfort zone but i wanted to give yall another one after seeing how much support dangerous got. if i wasn't so awkward with this topic, jungwon would've been more bold and confident LOL. don't think i wrote this as well as dangerous but hope yall enjoy this too!
As you finished taking a shot, you immediately gulped down the liquid in an attempt to reduce the effects that the alcohol has on you. You sighed as you felt the burning sensation in your throat, your face tensing up as you slowly felt the sensation disappear. Jungwon chuckled as he held up the alcohol bottle and poured you another shot. As the sensation in your throat fully died off, you quickly cleared your throat, "I'm done".
He gave you an approving hum and smile as he patted your back, knowing that you weren't such a good drinker unlike him. You sat back on your chair, letting your head hang over the edge as you stared into the ceiling. The room was dimly lit up by a warm light, the walls and ceiling looking more of a dark orange.
You could almost tell that feeling in your stomach was coming — y'know, that feeling when you drink a lot of alcohol. Your head was starting to feel light and as your heart starts to race, you suddenly feel like you want to do a lot of things.
"Hey!" you called out, and Jungwon's eyebrows raised, anticipating to what you were going to say next. "Drinking game, let's play," you suggested.
And that was exactly how you got even more wasted. You were panting as you felt your head spin, almost feeling like you were going to pass out. Jungwon laughed as he watched you in your drunken state, folding his arms and relaxing back on his chair, "Are you sure you can continue? I can bring you to bed now if you want".
"No!" you slammed your shot glass down onto the table, determined to prove that you could drink more, even if your boyfriend already knew damn well that you were already pass your limit. "I.. can do thiss," you mumbled, your speech already starting to slur from the alcohol.
"Y'know what?!" you exclaimed, standing up from your chair and slightly startling Jungwon and you looked at him with determined eyes, "Spicy. Let's play spicy".
Jungwon's eyes were slightly widened as he realised what you were asking for. You wanted to play spicy drinking games, and his mind has run wild, the number of things he wants to do being unlimited. His face slightly burns up at the idea and he shook his head.
"I'd love to, but-" "Wonnie!" "You're drunk, Y/N."
You pouted. "So what?!" He ran his fingers throug his hair, feeling slightly agitated. "I don't want to take advantage of that!"
You looked at him with half-lidded eyes, "I don't care. Do it".
He bit his lip, and if you were sober enough, you can physically see him lose control from the way his brows furrow and how he exhaled audibly. He was losing it. He wanted to respect boundaries, and you were tempting him.
He spoke, his voice deep. "Who was your best kiss? Me or yor ex?". You chuckled, your eyelids barely opened as you pointed at him without hesitation. "You, duh". You've slightly sobered up already since all you've been doing is answering his questions honestly, avoiding any shots.
He nodded his head in approval, trying his best to compose yourself until you continued talking. "I fucking love the way your lips ruin me whenever—".
Jungwon, with his reddened ears, covered your mouth which silenced you. You giggled as his mouth prevented you from talking, and you could hear him sigh. Though he agreed to play your spicy "Truth or Drink" game, he still wanted to respect the boundaries, but you were forcing him to push it, his self-control slowly slipping away.
He sighed as he slowly released your mouth, watching you as he slowly leaned back. "It's your turn," he furrowed his eyebrows upwards, feeling slightly shy as to what you might ask him. You've always found him adorable that he was always shy at these topics even when you and him have already done a lot.
You decided to shoot a question, "Do you have any fantasies I don't know about?".
He seemed to ponder for a second, his eyes looking empty and him pursing his lips, and just as soon as he picked up his shot glass and was about to gulp it down, you grabbed his wrist to prevent it from moving.
Your eyes were dark and determined. "What is it?" your tone sounding open, yet demanding. The tension in the air suddenly grew, the silence becoming more unbearable as you two stared into each other's eyes. He grew more nervous, gulping and pursing his lips as you could see him decide if he should tell you or not.
"It's okay, baby," you comforted him, encouraging him to be more open.
"Food" he quicky muttered. "What?" "I said food."
You looked at his face and you could tell his face was completely red, and you knew it wasn't from the alcohol. He bit his lip and furrowed his eyebrows, feeling sheepish that he finally admitted something he'd been hiding.
"What about it?" "The thought of you smearing food on your naked body for me to clean up with my mouth is just.."
His whole face was a bright shade of red and he broke eye contact, afraid to see what kind of facial expression you're making to his confession. You lifted his chin up with your finger, "Let's do it".
There were two differences that were made. One being that you were now shifted into your room from the living room since Jungwon offered to carry you with his trustworthy strength and arms, and second being that you were completely bare. You hugged your legs as the cold air hit your body, waiting for Jungwon to return until you heard the door slowly creak open.
Jungwon appeared, holding the Hershey's syrup bottle you stored in your refrigerator, and at the the bare sight of you, his breath hitched. He gulped as he walked towards you, being conscious of the way you were w him wtching with pedatory gaze.
He gulped as he climbed onto the bed, his knees pressing onto the sheets, staring at you, having a flustered expression take over his facial features. No, this wasn't his first rodeo with you, but it was his first with his most hidden fantasy.
He slowly handed you over the syrup bottle, your fingers brushing his for a moment and without a moment of hesitation, you immediately started to squeeze out the syrup onto different parts of your body — your knees, outer thighs, stomach, collarbone, neck.
His eyes widened as he took in the sight of you being fully covered in syrup. His heart skipped a beat as he took a few seconds to scan your entire body up and down. He licked his lips and he slowly started to climb over you, eyeing the first spot that he wanted to clean up first — your knees.
His tip of his tongue flicked against your knee, the temperature difference between his tongue and your skin making you shiver. His muscle immediately started to clean you up, using various movements such as long strikes or short kitten licks. He quickly cleaned up the syrup on your knee and he started to progress to the other areas such as your outer thigh.
He sucked the skin along the way, leaving light hickies that were bright red. He slowly pushed you down on the bed as he hovered over you, a shadow forming over you, next cleaning up your stomach. You watched how his eyes fluttered close and how he took his own time to clean you up.
"Teasing me aren't you?" he mumbled as he was in the midst of cleaning up your stomach, taking a quick second to look at you. You smirked, knowing exactly what he'd meant. You'd purposefully avoided all the core parts as you wanted to leave it last.
"Be patient, will you?" you shot, enjoying how he whines and just continues.
He'd just finished cleaning up your collarbone and neck, and without taking a break, you immediately started to pour the syrup out to areas where he'd been anticipating to the most. His jaw had dropped at the breath-taking sight of you, almost believing that he was dreaming.
"How about, we start here?" you challenged as you poured the syrup on your lips, his eyes watching the syrup as it lands on your mouth and drips down your chin.
extra note GRHAUDEWFN I FEEL SO SHY THAT I WROTE THIS. OH MY GOD. okay. i hope you guys enjoyed this. I HOPE THIS WASNT TOO CRINGE THIS IS LOWK MY FIRST SMUT FIC. im gunna sleep this away GOODNIGHT.
#enhypen#enha#enha fics#enhypen x reader#enha x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen drabbles#enha imagines#engene#enha fluff#enhy#enhypen angst#enhypen fluff#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen smut#enhypen x#enhypen x engene#enhypen x female reader#enhypen x y/n#enhypen x you#enhypen xo (only if you say yes)#jungwon fluff#jungwon x reader#jungwon yang#yang jungwon#jungwon#enha smut#enha jaeyun#enha x y/n#enha x you
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this is the second part of my exrry in italy oneshot! you can read that here
Three days had passed and Harry hadn't left your tiny apartment.
He kept saying he should probably leave, and you insisted there were things you had to do, but neither of you actually made it past the threshold of your door. No one said goodbye, or even bothered to shrug back into clothes. For three days, you ate, drank, and slept with Harry.
"You're making it hard to leave," he murmured, his voice low and content as you placed tiny kisses on his neck, his collarbone, his jaw, anywhere you could reach, really. It was how you used to wake Harry up when you were together, and when morning number four rolled around, you couldn't help yourself but lean across the bed and kiss his soft, sun kissed skin.
At first, you kept up the pretense of being unattached, of sleeping with Harry merely because you knew each other well enough physically. "This doesn't mean we're back together," you'd both whisper, or something to that effect, before blurring the lines of your non relationship once more.
"You're not making it any easier to kick you to the curb," you mumbled, one hand reaching up to caress his stubbly cheek. The fine, short hair that seemed to grow in the last few days.
Harry smelled good, like he usually did with a mix of the soap in your shower. It messed with your head in a way that was dangerous, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.
So he didn't leave (again), and you didn't tell him to go(again). You and Harry stayed in bed for most of the day, only bothering to get up when hunger was too apparent to ignore. You managed to whip something up from the meager groceries you had, not having gone to the market recently, and sat with Harry at the little dining table by the kitchen. The balcony would've been a much nicer spot, as it looked out over the neighborhood square you stayed in, but it was too public, too many keen eyes would've spotted Harry immediately.
"Part of me wishes I hadn't seen you at all," Harry confessed later in the day. You were back in bed after a brief stint in the kitchen where you tried to make pancakes, which promptly turned into kissing and licking pancake batter off Harry as he did the same to you on the kitchen counter, pancakes no longer a priority.
You knew he hadn't meant it to hurt you, but the words sent a pang through your chest, so different from the heat and fireworks and butterflies you usually got from him. Everything was so different now. It was hard to face how much had changed, especially now that Harry was in bed beside you. "I know."
"It's easier to pretend when I can't see you," he said softly, his hand never once stopping as it tracked through your hair, nor did your hand stop tracing patterns in his chest.
"Pretend?"
Harry blew out a large sigh before sitting up in your bed, his arms stretching high above his head. There were hickeys littered all over his body, one on his hip revealing itself as the bedsheet fell and settled just below his waist. You found yourself transfixed by your ex's body, the one you still loved so much the idea of him leaving made your heart hurt.
"Do you still love me?" Harry asked out of the blue.
The question shocked you, but only because you thought the last three days would've made it obvious. You certainly didn't have to ask him how he felt. "Yes."
"That makes it easier too. In a selfish way, I guess," he said, not once meeting your eye. "Knowing you're in as much pain as I am."
Unexpected tears welled in your eyes. You never wanted to hurt Harry. He'd been right to say it was easier to imagine him happy and healthy post break up if you didn't see or hear from him. It was easier to move on if you convinced yourselves that you were better off without each other.
"Harry—"
"I miss you, Y/n," he said, his voice trembling slightly. Harry wouldn't meet your eye, which made all of this so much worse. "I know why we broke up, and I've done everything short of sleeping with someone else to try and move on, but I just—Tell me you're struggling as much as I am. Tell me you don't sleep as well as you used to because I'm not there. Or don't. Tell me this has all just been sex to you so I know there's an end to this—this—"
"Misery?" you finished for him. "I wish I could. I don't know if I'll ever be the same again, honestly."
"Then why—"
"Don't ask why. Please. Not when you know the answer."
It wasn't like you and Harry woke up one day and stopped loving each other. Everything about your relationship had been nothing short of perfect from the very beginning.
Until it wasn't.
"No one has to know this time," Harry said. His tone had taken on a desperate edge, almost making you turn away from him so you wouldn't have to face it, do this all over again. "We can—We can keep this a secret. It'll be just us."
It will never be just us, you thought miserably. "People already know, H."
At the look of confusion on his face, you reached for your phone. You showed him the slew of articles that had already been written. Pictures of you and Harry walking through Rome together three days ago, each one picking you apart or depicting you as the villain in Harry's life.
"I know that's why you're still here. You're waiting for the storm to blow over," you said, unable to meet his eye.
"That's not—After everything I just said, you really think that's why I stayed?" he asked. You'd turned away from him, but you felt his hand on your shoulder, the kiss to your temple as he leaned in close.
"I wish I was the kind of person who didn't care what anyone thought, that I could simply exist in this relationship and not let anyone else in, but—but I'm not. I can't."
"You. Are. Enough," Harry murmured, pressing each word into your skin with a kiss. You closed your eyes, tears leaking from the corners as he curled himself around your body. One leg slid between yours, and you selfishly pulled him closer as he continued to murmur in your ear.
You fell asleep in your ex's arms, the weight of his body on yours more comforting than any blanket. When you woke up, Harry was there, but he wasn't wrapped around you anymore. He sat at the edge of your bed, wearing clothes for the first time since he'd set foot in your apartment.
"You're leaving?" you asked, voice scratchy with sleep.
"I'm supposed to go to Florence tomorrow," Harry said, bent over as he tied his shoes. "I've got a dozen messages on my phone asking where I am."
Something in Harry's voice sounded different, distant, just the way he sounded when you initially ran into him. It pulled at something in your heart, something that you'd been keeping at bay since you invited Harry into your apartment—the knowledge that this would eventually end.
"So you're—You were just going to leave? Without saying anything?"
You heard Harry sigh as he rested his head in his hands. "I thought it would be easier. Our last conversation seemed...final."
"I know, but—"
But what? Harry was right. This wasn't going anywhere. You told him you couldn't be in a relationship with him, and he was responding to that. You knew it was coming, but it didn't hurt any less now that the moment had finally come.
"You're right," you said eventually, sitting up in your bed. "We came here separately, of course you have plans. I'm sorry if I kept you."
"You didn't," Harry reassured. "There's nowhere I wanted to be the last few days, but we... we're broken up, and as much as I want to stay, I don't want to keep giving myself false hope."
Your fingers twitched, itching to reach out, to touch him, hold him. But he was right. As much as you loved this relationship limbo, that was all it was. Stringing you and Harry along would only hurt you more.
"I'm sorry," was all you could say. For too many things, none of which you could bring up without crying.
"Me too," Harry said.
Leaning across the bed, he kissed your forehead, then stood up. "One day you'll realize how extraordinary you are, and you wont care how people perceive you," he said, his thumb caressing your cheek. "And then you'll go and make someone the luckiest man in the world by giving yourself over to him completely. I'm just devastated it wasn't me."
You watched him go from the sanctuary of your bed, knowing the second he was out of sight you'd break down completely. The door closed with a soft clock, and even though you knew you shouldn't, you hurried over to your bedroom window, waiting anxiously to get one last glimpse of him.
Harry's lean figure appeared a couple minutes later, his head bent and shoulders slightly hunched, avoiding the few photographers who had been waiting for him to leave the building. You wanted him to turn around. You wanted to see his face one last time, a final farewell. But perhaps for his sake, he didn't, and you watched as he retreated down the street and turned down the road out of sight.
On your last day in Rome, you found a note he'd written.
Harry had hidden it in one of the pockets of his favorite of your sweaters, though you weren't exactly sure when. It wasn't very long, and the note itself was no more than a scrap of paper, one you'd nearly thrown out by accident. But you would've recognized his handwriting anywhere, and fond memories of notes you used to find among your things kept you from throwing away the folded paper and opening it instead.
Perhaps in another life. Unless you change your mind in this one, H.
#harry styles#harry styles blurb#harry styles angst#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfic#harry styles oneshot#harry styles imagine#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x you#harry styles fluff#harry styles writing#harry styles one shot#harry styles fic
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Dilf! Minho though he had enough of paternity after his divorce and his own children. He loved them, but he didn't want more..until the new babysitter comes to the picture and suddenly he has the biggest breeding kink not even his wife could pull from him
YES YES YES LIKE, the only good thing his ex ever did was hiring you to watch the kids for both of them, really. and you're even a sweet, smart, pretty girl...
your skin is so smooth and clear, not a wrinkle in sight for another ten years at least, always dressed nicely to make a good impression for the world that is still knowing you, sweet perfume making his mouth water when he's near you. the shape of your ass in those tight jeans you often wear is always the last thing he sees when he leaves the house and stays a little bit more at the entrance to watch you turn your attention back to his precious kids.
and god the way you take care of his children. he once came back and heard you scold them and it was the hottest thing ever, like as if you were their real mom... would you like that? he asks this to himself everytime it's his turn to keep them and you tag along. Minho gave you permission to do pretty much whatever you need with them, for them. when he comes home from a long stressful day at work and he finds you cooking because you "think it's better if they eat something homemade instead of take-out" a lovely domestic image presents in front of him, something that he never got to see with his past marriage.
when he stands beside you to help, his white shirt's sleeves rolled up his surprisingly big arms, veins adorning them like they're pieces of jewelry... you don't expect your core to tighten. but you never really expect him having an effect on you everytime he comes close, when he gently touches your waist to get past you, when he softly presses on your back and grabs something from behind you.
he's such an attracrive, elegant kind man, profoundly devoted to his son and his daughter, how could he ever end up with such a disgusting woman previously? you hate her. you hate her so much because she lets her own children stay more with their father and a babysitter than her but you're also grateful to see him more often. you're by now part of the family, you got to know a lot about each other.
dilf Minho who watches you smile adoringly while you help him put his treasures to sleep and tuck the covers under them, his daughter whispering in a breath, probably accidentally and halfawy in the world of dreams a "thank you mommy".
and it all just... clicks. yeah he didn't really want to be a father of three or more, heck his first two kids were the result of a marriage that was already collapsing at the time, and even if he loves them endlessly the idea of more wasn't that appealing. before meeting you.
so that night he doesn't let you leave. he pictures in his mind the outline of yours and his lips in one, not just for a simple kiss, but... as to envision them on another little puffy face. the color of your eyes his so, so beautiful to him and combined with his nose, his lashes, your eyebrows, both your hair, heck even the shape of your ears... he's convinced you could give him such a beautiful baby.
ahh, his ex was beautiful too don't get him wrong, his kids are kissed by the sun itself, but you, damn, you. he wants a baby from you. he needs to see if what he imagined will turn out right, or even more beautiful. Minho needs to fuck you hard and deep to be sure you leave his house stuffed with his next child and he needs to have you always ready for him because he plans on taking you whenever you two are alone, where and how doesn't matter.
the sight of his hair with few silver strikes at the sides, gold thin necklace jumping on his still pumped pecs, strong arms keeping your legs up his shoulders... it's all almost too much combined with the way he's deep inside you thrusting at a speed and with an angle that makes you almost ascend to heaven, something no other younger guy was ever able to do.
"lower your voice pretty, don't wanna wake up the kids hm?" he whispers just before sloppily kissing you to shut you up.
you already came on his fingers in the hallway where he couldn't wait to have you all for him to use, making you lay your back on the wall while he pressed himself onto you, his fingers inside your little hole as he spread them and caressed your walls. he made sure to prep you well, you had to be ready to take loads and loads of his cum after all, right?
and you came on his tongue too when he finally picked you up and ran to his cold clean bedroom, one that no woman after his ex wife saw, when he told you he was in exctasy.
"I've never had a more delicious cunt in my entire life" he said, clit circling in his mouth right after, then his tongue fucking you, then your juices all around his face. he surely had more experience than you, and your pussy being the best he ever laid his tongue on? well, it's more than a compliment to you.
all that to make you so dumb you don't even have a chance to protest against his plan.
"gonna make you so full kitten, you'll carry a baby for me yeah? is that right? you'll do that."
you're still too young to be thinking about being a mother but he makes it sound so, so tempting. you'd have a stable life, a loving and outrageously hot husband partner, a nice home always full of happiness and if he would fuck you like he's doing now for the rest of your life, well, you would consider yourself the luckiest woman on earth.
"stuff you 'till- 'till you become round and puffy- fuck! I'll give you another one, just another one..." and it's his third orgasm inside of you. having a man like him become so desperate for you makes your walls tighten around him again, losing count of how many times your pleasure reached the sky, hearing him grunt and try to contain his sounds to not disturb the tranquillity of the house and to not scare you away.
dilf Minho who can't get himself to pull out just yet, his cock hardening again just from the thought of you being a mommy while he's a daddy. his cock pushes his release inside you deeper and deeper adding pressure to your womb, overwhelming feeling manifesting through tears.
"shh kitten, it's okay, breathe..." his soft kisses being placed on your cheeks, hands momentarily moving from your sore legs to place them down and caress your breasts that, well, he never thought about it but he would very much like to suck when anching from being too full of milk.
"daddy's gonna give you some more, and you'll be good and keep it all inside." he starts to move again, and he restricts your hands in his when you start to writhe and wiggle away because it's stings too good.
"imagine how happy they'll be when you'll have breakfast with us in the morning," he kisses you again, and when he sees your fucked out expression he's the one who needs to calm down.
"they love you. will you let me teach them to call you mommy?"
dilf Minho who finishes fucking you when the light coming from outside isn't from the moon anymore, but the sun. dilf Minho that watches you sleep peacefully on his chest even if he has to get up to prepare his kids for school. dilf Minho who thought he would never feel such strong emotion for anyone anymore, but finds himself making up a discourse about how he wants you to go out on a date with him, even if he's old and maybe not the cool type you may like at your age, but that can love you properly and treat you like a queen.
dilf Minho who stuffs his cock inside you again as he bends you on the counter when no one beside you two is in the house anymore.
continues here
thank you for this ask, I didn't really feel like writing a one shot about it just now, maybe in the future, who knows. hope you appreciated ;)
#cinhomi thinks#lee know x reader#lee know smut#lee know one shot#lee know drabbles#lee know fanfic#lee know x female reader#skz oneshots#skz fanfic#skz x reader#skz smut#skz imagines#skz drabbles#stray kids drabbles#stray kids fanfic#stray kids x reader#stray kids x female reader#stray kids smut#stray kids imagines#lee minho smut#✉️: letters to cinhomi
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Bad Idea, Right?
Obviously inspired by Miss Olivia Rodrigo’s song, here is a one shot I loved writing :) a bit of angst, a bit of a fluff, a lot of smut, a little bit of everything!
Check out our Patreon for early access and 160+ exclusive writings!
WC- 6.2k
Warnings- toxic relationship, kinda asshole h, angst, crying, slight degradation, spitting, impact play (light), sex tape filming, daddy kink (light), use of Mama 🤭
—-
Y/N knew this was a very bad idea. She knew she was going to regret this in the morning, as she usually did when Harry texted her to show up somewhere, but here she was.
Her best black dress in the most soft fabric, the one he had complimented her on endlessly before peeling it off when they had still been together, was glued to her body, Hair curled and falling down her shoulders. If she was going to show up at a houseparty that her ex boyfriend was throwing, she may as well go all out and wear something that she knew he liked.
Internally, she tried to talk herself out of it as she approached the open door, ignoring the people making out on his lawn. The thump of the bass was audible outside, a deep sigh being let out as she tossed her phone in her clutch after texting him a simple ‘here.’ The shot she had taken before had done next to nothing to calm her nerves, her red lipstick meticulously touched up in the back of the uber as she squirmed in the seat surely getting fucked up as she bit down on her bottom lip, venturing into the home that used to be so familiar to her.
It had been 5 months since they’d broken up, but it had barely seemed like it. Harry had a way of getting into her head and driving her absolutely fucking mad. Their back and forth seemed neverending, their text threads updating every few days. A fight, a makeup, a request to see one another. As much as she wanted to claim it was all him, she knew she was equally as bad. It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried to find someone else- but no one else could get her off like him.
Harry knew her body better than anyone else, every curve and mark, where to touch and stroke. Where to stroke, where to lick, where to bite. He was an expert on how to get her off in just minutes, her cunt completely dedicated to him as much as she wished it wasn’t. Her brain and pussy had no communication in the information regarding the fact they were broken up, much to her dismay. The only thing saving her ego was that she knew that she had the same effect on Harry. There was no way she didn’t. Harry could very well fuck anyone he wanted to, more than capable to pull. Y/N had been overly jealous as a girlfriend and she knew that, but people were drawn to her boyfriend despite the fact it was well known he was taken. While he didn’t seem to take them up on it- he ate up the attention and preened over it, much to her irritation. It caused fights upon fights, her going out of her way to make him jealous- which worked. They both seemed to get off on pissing each other off.
Breaking up was supposed to stop the cycle, but it seemed to only string it out further.
There had been so many times she deleted his number but when he pulled up on her notifications again, she recognized the number and his attitude and couldn’t resist temptation. No one had ever made Y/N feel so many emotions in her life. Being around Harry was like a live wire, electric and hot, dangerous and potentially harmful, but the benefits sometimes outweighed the risks.
Her nose crinkled as she felt the floor stick under her shoe, knowing he would be pissed about that tomorrow. Whatever spiked punch was all over the floor and that would take some elbow grease to get out. Navigating through the entryway, she made her way into the living room. It was dark, flimsy lighting had been put up to make colorful strobes go around the room, the room far too filled for comfort. It was stupidly warm, regret crawling up her neck as she looked around to find anyone familiar.
“There she is!” The voice was unmistakable. Niall, arms tugging her in for a hug and pulling her into the kitchen where it was a bit quieter, the main group she was familiar with strung about along with a few strangers. “Harry’s girl is here, everyone! Y/N herself.” He chirped, making her give him a confused look until she followed his gaze to see Harry standing stiffly, a girl too close for comfort. Her eyes narrowed, taking in how the girl angled her body, hand resting on Harry’s arm, looking at her with a scowl.
It was an ugly feeling to see someone else around her man. Well- he wasn’t her man, but it was another miscommunication between her heart and brain. She hated seeing him around someone else, the mere idea of him being with someone that wasn’t her made her stomach turn. It wasn’t right. Yes, she knew it was a toxic cycle but it was one she didn’t know how to break. She knew this was bad, but she didn’t want anyone else having him the way she did.
The only saving grace was the fact that Harry looked uncomfortable, immediately peeling himself away from the other girl and coming straight over to Y/N.. Her face must have shown her irritation, mouth opening and arm resting on her hip as she went to give him a bit of hell but was cut off by his mouth.
And Y/N’s body, she was a fucking traitor. Feeling his arms wrap around her and push her against the counter, his tongue pressing into her mouth and tasting the cinnamon from the alcohol and sticky remnants of Coca Cola on his lips made her brain go numb. She always did love how strong he was, how safe she used to feel wrapped up in his arms. There were a few wolf whistles surrounding them, but Y/N had been taken aback from the heat of it so early on, hand slipping between her and the counter to grab at her ass. A surprised moan left her mouth before Niall let out a laugh.
“Alright, alright. Stop eating her, Harry.” Niall smacked his back, making Harry pull back with a hazy smirk. Almost dopy, making her blink up at him with her eyes narrowing again. His eyes were dark, lips wet now and that dark pink she liked so, so much. He hadn’t shaved today, leaving a bit of stubble around his face, a backwards hat combing his hair back to keep it out of his face. The nose piercing was swapped from a stud to a hoop, making her a bit surprised. Had he done that for her? He knew she liked it….
“You can take your hand off my ass now.” Her sassy tone didn’t match how her eyes looked, secretly loving that he had so publicly claimed her in front of a girl they both knew wanted him. It was a sick feeling, the victory even though she knew it was wrong to feel that way. It was a constant fight with herself. Knowing she should most definitely not be feeling so happy that her ex had just kissed her dumb in front of all his friends, but still liking that she had a claim on him.
“I could.” He retorted. “But it feels so nice in my palm, and we both know how much you like it.” A squeeze was given, Y/N scowling back up at him but not making any attempt to move. If she wanted to, he would get out of the way- but they both knew how this went. She pretended she didn’t liked his hands on her, he taunted her, they would glare and play fight before it got a little real, and they’d fuck. A circle they’d swung around plenty of times. His lips lowered to her ear, ignoring the chatter around them. “You’re wearing my dress, hm?”
“Yours? M’sorry, did you want to wear it?” She rose her eyebrow that she definitely hadn’t laid to perfection before she came here. “I forgot you even liked this one. It was the first thing I could reach in my closet.” Her nose was turned up, this time pushing past him to go over to the drinks. She looked down to see a cup with his name scribbled on it with a sharpie, lifting it up for confirmation before throwing it back.
Regretted immediately.
“Ugh- Harry, what the fuck?” She gagged, nose wrinkled as she opened his fridge to grab a bottle of water. “I forgot how disgusting your drinks are. God, how do you even have a stomach?” She gave him a horrified look, swishing the water in her mouth.’
“No one told you to fuckin’ take mine!” He grumbled, taking the cup to find it empty. “Fucks sake, Y/N. Taking my drink and then bitching about it. As usual.” He came up behind her to grab the bottle over the fridge, his ‘good stuff’ or whatever. It was already that time of night?
Where they started poking at each other to cause a fight. To have an excuse to wander off and to strip down to nothing.
“Excuse me?” Y/N grit her teeth, turning to look at him as he poured into his recently emptied cup. He was trying to get a rise out of her.
“You heard me, princess. Know those ears work, considering you’re an eavesdropper.”
Oh, he was going low. She crinkled the water bottle in her hands, shoulders tending as she exhaled sharply through her nose. “Well I wouldn’t have had to if you didn’t get so fucking weird with your phone. You were the one hiding a ‘project partner’ from me.” Her fingers did air quotes around that, showing that she didn’t believe his excuse.
“Oh, for fucks sake.” Harry hissed, his own jaw setting. “I told you that she was just a partner for my paper. I didn’t tell you at first because I know you’d overreact and go all insane on me for daring to interact with another woman.” He snarled back, knowing where to hit where it hurt.
“I wouldn’t have had to be paranoid if you’d respected me to stop flirting and entertaining girls who disrespected our relationship by hitting on you in front of me! You literally encouraged it!” She was trying to keep her voice down, but it was hard. This was an especially sore spot.
“So replying with a thank you is encouraging it? Sue me for liking that someone complimented me on something!” He raised an arm up, running fingers through his hair in frustration before he turned away to lean on the counter with his arms crossed, cup in hand. “God, you do this every fucking time. We aren’t fucking together anymore, that’s your fault. Why do you continue to harrass me about this? Even if I did encourage it, I never went for it did I?” A cruel smirk emerged. “Though I’m a free agent now, yeah? Could go take Josslyn or Heather up on their offers?
Harry knew he had taken it a bit too far when her breathing caught for real, watching as he froze and her bottom lip trembled. That wasn’t a part of their regular script to wind each other up before hot sex. It was a bit of the real hurt that has blossomed through, but he hadn’t meant to let it out. Her eyes turned glassy, her hand snatching his drink and throwing it at his shirt.
“Fuck you.”
Harry felt the cold liquid hit him, hissing as he stood in slight shock as he watched her turn to leave. He had really fucked up. His stomach dropped as he tried to gather his bearings, cursing under his breath before going after her.
“Y/N! Fuck, don’t go.” He yelled after her, making his way through the throngs of people in his living room, eyes watching her back go towards the door. While he had definitely said fucked up things before, this had been designed to hit where it really hurt.
Y/N stomped through the living room, ignoring his calls for her as she got closer to the door- closer to escape- when she was caught. Arms wrapping around her waist as he pulled her into the bathroom next to the stairs and turning so he was against the door. Y/N kept her back towards him but yanked herself free from his grip, irritated that she was crying. That it still hurts. He knew it would and that’s partially what made it worse. He had been out to hurt her and she had known it was a bad idea to show up tonight but somewhere in her heart she had this tiny, tiny hidden hope that maybe tonight would be a night they could finally get over their differences. She missed him so much it ached if she allowed herself to feel it, but she had tried to refuse her feelings.
It had boiled over now, though.
Harry swallowed thickly as he heard the sniffle. Y/N wasn’t one to cry about a lot. She hadn’t shed a lot of tears in the time they’d been together, emotionally iron clad as it seemed. When she did? It was unnerving. Heartbreaking. It was one of his least favorite things ever, seeing her crumble. While he may have enjoyed getting her angry and irritated, maybe a little jealous, he never liked hurting her. He gained no pleasure from that.
“Baby…” He spoke softly, trying to turn her around, hands pulling at her shoulders. He was bigger than her and could definitely turn her around if he wanted to, but he wouldn’t ever touch her in a way she didn’t want.
“No. You can’t- you can’t call me that anymore. I am not your baby.” She hissed, keeping herself turned from him. Harry winced. She hadn’t said that before, not seriously, but the venom in her voice had shown how upset she was. It was laced with the hoarse blanket that coated her voice when she cried, making it even worse. “You can go call Josslyn or Heather. I’m sure they’d love to be your b-baby.” The end of the sentence was joined with a little sob, effectively breaking his heart further.
“No. No, I’m not… I didn’t mean it, Y/N. I promise. I was just upset and I didn’t mean for it to come out, I just wanted you to feel-”
“What?” Whipping around, Y/N’s mascara streaked cheeks were a blow to the chest. Her vulnerability was something he used to crave, to be the one she confided in or let herself break with. He wanted to be there for her. Not be the cause of her tears. “You wanted me to feel hurt, like you did? Do you not think I don’t hurt every fucking day?”
“You broke up with me!” Harry tried, her glare making him stop talking quickly after.
“I broke up with you because you didn’t take me seriously. How could you go from telling me you can’t wait to put a ring on my finger, can’t wait to have a family with me, to flirting with girls the same night? Do you know how humiliating it is to have your friends tell you that they heard so and so say they were going to try something because it ‘obviously isn’t serious with Y/N?” The incredulous look on her face made him shrink back a bit.
“I didn’t know that! It was never real flirting, Y/N. I liked to get my ego stroked, the attention felt nice, but I would never, ever step out on you. I love you, for fucks sake!” He went to reach for her but she backed up, flinching slightly. Another dagger to the chest. He had really, really fucked up. She never denied his touch.
“You love me?” A humorless laugh escaped her swollen lips. “Is that how you love people, Harry? Make them feel disposable and humiliated because you can’t be happy with one girl telling you that she loves you back? My compliments weren’t enough?” Arms crossed defensively over her chest. “Give me a fucking break. Telling me that as if you didn’t just say moments ago that you should take up girls who actively disrespected our relationship on their offers to fuck you while you were dating me? Yeah, that’s definitely something someone who loved me would do.” She wanted to stay angry but she was hurt. Hurt so bad, the full weight of their breakup actually hitting her as she felt the sob crawl up her throat and hurried to cover her eyes as she began to cry. It couldn’t be held back. She was at her breaking point.
Harry wanted to throw up. He hadn’t thought of it that way, and honestly? He had never expected this. Sometimes Y/N had acted as if she didn’t have a lot of emotion, reserved and a bit quiet when she expressed herself. The one time he had gotten her to let go was during sex, where he truly felt her desire. That was maybe why he liked the attention from other people. She wasn’t very forthcoming with praise or overly lovey with him, and it had hurt a little. But he could deal with that later, because his poor fucking girl was sobbing in front of him.
“No, no… sweet girl. Please.” He watched as she dropped down to sit on the floor, gathering her knees to her chest as he followed after her. “Hey- M’so sorry. I didn’t think about it like that. I really didn’t. I was just talking out of my ass because I was hurt we’re still broken up a-and I shouldn’t have said anything but….” He sat down fully next to her, pulling her body on to his lap. She tried to squirm at first but he could tell it was half hearted as she settled down a moment later, the sobs wracking her body as his arms wrapped around her and his lips went to her ear.
“M’so sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t ever want to make you feel that way. You’ve always been so important to me and this is breaking my heart.” He whispered. “Hate that you’re crying because of me. I hate that I ever made you doubt that you were important to me, or that I respect you. I do. I promise you, I do.” He whimpered slightly, desperate to get her to believe him. “I’m an ass, I know. But you have to know I do, I love you so much. I’m so fucking sorry for throwing that in your face.”
In the grand scheme of things, he knew that some people would think she was overreacting- but he understood now. He hadn’t truly meant to take it that far, hadn’t even stopped to think that those exact women had been sources of insecurity. They were the first to pop into his head because he had rejected them again tonight, waiting for Y/N to arrive.
He never wanted to be broken up with. He had planned on being with her forever, and he had fucked it up.
Her cries started to fade, sniffles taking the place of sobs as he whispered soft words, consoling her. He knew he’d fucked up tonight, in their relationship. He hadn’t communicated the way he needed to and he played games, but he thought that it would get a different reaction. His intentions weren’t to hurt her. Selfishly, stupidly, he assumed it hadn’t phased her. That she was just angry and not upset.
If she’d give him another chance he’d fix it. He’d make sure to open her up a little more, make her feel more safe. Reign in his flirting, make sure he was just polite instead. He’d never put their relationship in jeopardy again. “C’mon. Come with me, to my room.” Standing up, he pulled her along with her. It said a lot about her right now that she wasn’t fighting, letting him lead her to his room with her hand tucked in his own. Her face was downcast, making sure no one could see that she’d cried as Harry took the key from his pocket and undid the lock. He really didn’t want strangers in his room.
It was still the same. His navy bedspread and Nirvana posters on the side of his wall, his desk slightly messy with a leftover fast food cup sitting next to his water bottle on his night stand. He’s gotten it for her, because she got thirsty in the middle of the night.
What really got her attention was the framed photo of them that was right next to it. Her soft smile and his wide one, teeth out as he held her in his lap. His flannel was around her and his hat was backwards as he snuggled her. It had been cool that night but there was a bonfire, not enough seats and a handsy Harry ready to make his lap her throne. Her throat tightened as she looked at the photo, dropping his hand and wrapping her arms around her body to self soothe before she walked up to it.
“Why do you still have this up?” Her voice was shaky still, looking down at the happy memory.
“Because I still love you. I told you.” Hands were placed on her hips as she was brought into him, hugging her from behind as he unwrapped her arms and threaded their fingers together. “I know I’ve been shit. I’ve been… impatient, an attention whore, all of the insults you’ve said. But I love you. I have since day one. I’d have never cheated on you, regardless of what you may believe.” The idea of it made him feel ill.
“Then why?” Her wavering voice made him frown. “Why did you keep flirting with people in my face? I know you said it was cause I wasn’t giving you enough compliments but I didn’t know you thought that.” His heart nearly snapped in two when her voice broke. “I thought the world of you. I was so proud to be with you and then… I thought you just didn’t like me anymore. I know…” A deep inhale was felt as her tummy lifted both of their arms. “I know I can be a little cold or quiet, but I had no idea you felt neglected. I pulled back because you kept talking to other girls how you used to talk to me and… I didn’t feel like it was okay to.”
It made him feel worse. Hearing this now. Y/N had broken up with him and he’d been hurt, his pride making him sneer at her and the nastiness was even more uncalled for now that he knew. Y/N wasn’t a bitch, she wasn’t unfeeling- she didn’t feel safe. He’d done that to her because he was the little bitch here, not giving her the safety she needed in order to open up. While they should’ve been continuing growing, he got his feelings hurt and made it impossible for her to feel like she could give those things to him.
“I’m sorry.” His voice was weak. “I’m sorry. I’ll keep saying it. I didn’t mean it. I promise, nothing I've said is true. I wanted to wind you up, I wanted to fuck you because it was the only way you’d get close to me again. I never intended on making you feel unsafe with me, fuck. That’s the last thing I ever wanted. Makes me feel sick to hear that.” He nuzzled against her neck, placing a kiss there before pulling away, unwrapping them and sitting on the edge of his bed. Y/N wasn’t fighting him, so he gently tugged her to sit on his lap, this time facing him. “There she is.” A sad smile lifted his lips, thumb wiping away the streaks of mascara that had flaked off with her tears. “Still so pretty when you cry, even if it breaks m’heart.”
It was worse than a kicked puppy. Y/N wasn’t a huge emoter so knowing that he’d done this had made him wonder what she did alone. How many other times he’d made her cry but she wasn’t solid enough around him to do it in front of him.
“You broke mine.” She whispered, looking down at his shirt. “I don’t mean to be a bitch. I was just scared.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Let me fix it. Please?” Holding her face in his hands, he got her eyes back on his. “Let me make it better. I won’t do any of that ever again, I’ll communicate better… Just let me make your heart feel safe again.”
Y/N knew she was a sucker for this. She shouldn’t say yes. Every part of her except her brain was screaming to stay, though. While her head was telling her to run away as fast as she could, her heart thudded in her chest and her body wanted closer to his own. It was a decision she may come to regret, maybe she’d hate herself for it, but she couldn’t let go. “O-Okay.” She whispered, feeling his head fall against hers. “Please don’t break my heart again, H. I can’t do that again.”
“I’d rather die.”
His lips were pressed against hers, and moved quickly from there.
One of the things that never lacked with them as a couple was sexual chemsitry. It’s what had them so obsessed with each other at first. The best way to get Y/N to express herself was when she was full of cock or close to the edge of orgasm, which was why Harry had no problem saying his apologies between her legs.
“M’sorry, baby.” He crooned, licking over her drippy slit. “So, so sorry. M’gonna take care of you.” Lips pressed kisses to her clit, a keening whine leaving her lips as fingers clutched his hair and brought him closer to her. His mouth had always been his greatest gift and biggest curse. Somehow he knew all the right things to say, all the right things to do to pleasure her but always stuck his goddamn foot in his mouth. He was going to change that now.
Dark green gazed into hers as he took another broad lick, the tip of his nose brushing over her clit. Large hands with chipped polish wrapped around her thighs and kept them spread, his hair a mess from her hands carding through it with their hot makeout and now his time spent working on her pussy. This was undoubtable a perk of being with the man, knowing how much he genuinely loved to eat pussy. He’d spend hours licking and sucking on her, making her sensitive and cum over and over again whenever he had the chance. For his birthday he’d genuinely wanted a day inside with her where he spent the majority of his morning eating her for breakfast, her thighs his perfect earmuffs from the snow that happened to fall on the day.
Whenever they spent time apart he missed this desperately. He’d not even tried to find someone to replace this because he knew the feeling wouldn’t ever be the same. Sure, he’d loved eating pussy before Y/N but it had turned into a full on obsession with her. No one had ever tasted as good, made as many cute noises, squealed when his mouth latched on her clit and his finger curled just right- like he was doing now, holding her bucking hips down.
“Oh, I know, Mama, I know.” He cooed against her. “Feels so fucking good, doesn’t it? Needed my mouth on this greedy fucking pussy…” Pursing his lips, he spit over her slit and watched it drip with a hiss before usng his tongue to spread it, digits dripping down to his wrist before his tongue trilled over the swollen bud. It didn’t take much to push her over, but a well timed smack against her thigh to get her to stop squirming had done the job. A wet gasp tore from her mouth as she squeale his name, simultaneously pulling his mouth against her and trying to push him away. Using his strength against her, he made sure to lick up a bit before spitting again, leaving her pussy wet and messy as he climbed up her body and kissed her hard.
His chin was wet and she knew he was a fucking mess but her tongue delved into his mouth, tasting herself on him. She could hear the tug down of his zipper, felt him moving and wiggling his pants down but she was too busy sucking on his tongue and reveling in his moans against her to think twice before she felt the tip of his cock smack against her cunt.
“I’m clean, baby. No one but you, never need anyone but you.” His grip on her chin was tight as he rutted himself against her cunt. “Even when you were being a miserable bitch t’me, all I wanted to do was love on you. M’gonna make sure you never fucking doubt how much you own me again. This is the only cunt I need.”
There was sick satisfaction that rolled through him as he slid into her and felt the stretch, watching her mouth fall open as she was filled. It only confirmed what he had hoped- she hadn’t been fucking around much, if at all. Granted, he was thick and long and it would be hard to beat him, but he knew what she felt like when she was well fucked. “Oh, look at that…” He whispered, angling her head down to look at where her pussy lips clung to his cock as he pulled out a bit. “She missed me, didn’t she, baby? Sweet pussy missed my cock so fucking much, doesn’t want me to pull away.”
Harry was by far the filthiest man she’d ever experienced but that’s part of the appeal. He may be a bit of an asshole, but god, he knew how to fuck. How to kiss. How to make her feel special when he wasn’t being a dickhead. Moments like this always wiped that shit clean, the slate cleared and her head foggy as all she could focus on was how right he was. “Yeah- yeah, don’t take it from me again.” She growled, digging her nails into his skin. “Don’t fucking take my cock from me again, don’t make me walk away. This is mine.”
Harry hissed, loving the sting on his skin and how she spoke. Y/N could be a fierce little bitch and he loved that about her. She hadn’t been pleased tonight and he’d taken it too far, but she was going to have no doubt how much he had been missing her. Their hate sex had been good, but their makeup sex was even better. “Never, Mama. Never, it’s all yours. You’re right.” His voice soothed, pushing back into her and reveling in how hot she was. Tight. Everything he could possibly need. “It’s yours always, and I don’t want anyone else. Jus’ want you to let me love on you, make you feel good. Be my girl again. He had everything else he wanted, but Y/N was the missing link. He’d fucked up with her, but he wouldn’t do it again. Not when this was how explosive it was between them.
“You better fucking treat me right.” Her hand held his face now. “Better be so nice to me, buy me f-flowers and hold my hand… Fuck me good, make sure all the other b-bitches know that you’re taken.” Her legs wound around him and he felt a heel surely to bruise his ass, but he didn’t care. “Don’t let them think you’re available because you’re an attention whore.”
Harry moaned at the degrading words, because they were true. He was indeed an attention whore and he’d never deny it. “Only for you, baby. Want all your fucking attention… fuck.” He hissed, thrusting slower as he looked at where they joined. “Creaming on my cock already, really must have missed me.” Noses brushed before he fucked harder into her, trying to bring her to the edge. “Fingers didn’t cut it, did they? No toy can make you feel as good as his. Know that you needed Daddy t’fuck you right.”
Y/N let out a wail as he tugged her hips up, his face leaving hers to sit on his knees while he fucked her. He was getting the spot she needed, saying the words she wanted and she felt hot all over. Syrupy, sticky hot as she dripped down her ass as the sound of their sex filled his room. The music muffled behind the door didn’t matter, all she wanted to hear was his dirty talk and the sound of their skin. “Yes, I needed it Daddy- Fuck me, fuck me right. You always make me cum over and over…” her head rolled back on the mattress as her fingers found his wrists, grounding herself as he fucked her steady and hard.
His eyes took in the view of bouncing tits and a messy cock pistoning in and out of her creamy cunt, breathing heavy while he felt her tighten up on him. His goal was always to make sure she came over and over, a generous lover being one of his positive attributes. “Mhm… It’s never changed, Mama. M’gonna give it to you just like that. God, you look so fucking pretty on my dick, baby. Need to capture it.” He adjusted slightly as he took his phone out, thankful his pants had only been down a few inches as he pressed record. A breathy laugh left him as he fucked into her willing body, aiming the camera down at her face. “Say hi to the camera, pretty girl.” He crooned.
“H-Hi Daddy.” She mewled, preening under the attention. It was a guilty pleasure of hers, knowing he had the filthy images and videos on his phone. It was even better to watch it back and see just how wrecked she got from him. “You’re gonna be nice to me so you- so you don’t have to delete these, right?” He’d had to delete all the videos when they broke up, but she hoped this time they’d get to stick around forever.
“Of course, my sweet girl. Never gonna fuck this up again… Not when we look so fucking good together. Feel so fucking good together…. Fuck, look at that…” He got a close up of her cunt as it stretched to fit him, clinging to his length. “You’re gonna cum, I can feel it.” His eyes met hers as he started to get her to the edge, her face glistening and eyes hazy. “Go on, baby. Do it. Cum on my cock, make a fucking mess.”
Harry could feel it as she did, the high pitched whine of his name and the bite of her nails as she writhed on his cock, the camera capturing her face as she did so. Mouth open and eyes rolled back, the blissed out smile following as he fucked her through it. He didn’t stop, tossing the phone to the side as he kissed her again as his cock pulsed, trying to hold back his own orgasm. “Mmm… fuck. I love when you cum on me. So gorgeous, all mine.” He rubbed their noses together again while humping into her, her impossibly hot cunt clinging to him as he peppered kisses to her face. “But I’m not done with you yet.”
“No?” She grinned, feeling drunk. “Should have known, you sex maniac- fuck.” She pushed his hand away from her cunt. “Give a girl a minute, fucks sake.”
“Just got you back, can you blame me?” He smiled against her mouth, sucking her lower lip into his mouth and grazing it with his teeth. He wanted her to look freshly fucked and glowing tomorrow when she had to meet up with her friends for brunch, sure to piss them off with the news that they’re back together. “Mean it, I’m not letting you go this time. Never again.” His smirk got bigger. “Pussy’s too fucking good.”
“Shut up, slut.” She pushed his face away playfully. You’ve got more than one orgasm to go until I think about taking you back. Prove your worth to me.” His cock could be felt twitching inside her yet again.
“Whatever you say, Mama.” He cooed, pulling out of her regretfully. “Now, get on your knees. I’ve got to say sorry to your pretty ass.”
#jarofstyles#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles smut#harry writing#harry styles imagine#harry drabble#harry styles blurb#harry styles writing#exes to lovers#harry styles au#frat boy harry#frat harry styles#harry styles fanfics#harry styles one shots#harry styles fic#harry smut#harry fluff#harry angst#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff#harry styles oneshots
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lee heeseung fic recs!
♥︎ "mind saying that again?" (heeseung x reader) - @heeliopheelia
♥︎ — RACING, BEATING. - @wonlovie (You didn’t mean to show up to one of the most important meetings of your year completely hungover. No, in reality you would have preferred being sober when you met the man your father was marrying you off to. But how could you resist those dark eyes and plump lips that tempted you on your final night of freedom?)
♥︎ VERBOTEN - LEE HEESEUNG [complete] - @heesbaby (a bad stroke of luck saw lee heeseung, your dads coworker, moving into your small apartment until he found his feet again. emotionally unavailable and a workaholic, you were going to try your absolute hardest to make him loosen up. even if it meant breaking a few of the house rules he'd set out.)
♥︎ last time - @hees-mine (After giving into temptation, there was no end. The guilt was slowly started to fade, and you felt yourself falling deeper and deeper into the pit of lust for your best friend's father.)
♥︎ boring, draining, tedious, company party- lee heeseung - @boydepartment
♥︎ 𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 — SURPRISE 이희승 - @karinasbaby (jaeyun pitched you one of his “genius” plans to celebrate heeseung’s birthday— but how will heeseung take it?)
♥︎ rude | lhs - @4wkjun (heeseung has never loved anyone as much as he loves y/n. y/n’s father has never hated someone as much as he hates heeseung. but it doesn’t matter, heeseung’s gonna marry y/n anyway.)
♥︎ EX-BOYFRIEND TEXTS W/ HEESEUNG - @fakeuwus
♥︎ WIN ONE WIN ME — L.HS - @jaylver (who knew being angry and impulsive can get the captain of the hockey team to notice you? cussing them out when they were losing wasn't the best idea, but it definitely made lee heeseung's head turn, leading to him making a deal with you to win a game in order to get your number. but that wasn't enough for him, he was determined to make you his.)
♥︎ TASTE ⎯⎯ l. heeseung - @goldenhypen
♥︎ BLOODBAG - @myonos (IN WHICH you are a princess betrothed to the vampire prince of the most feared kingdom in the world.)
♥︎ hee seeing you wear another members hoodie - @delcakoo
♥︎ chapstick challenge - @jaeyunverse (the chapstick challenge is just an excuse for you to get heeseung to kiss you. thankfully, he’s more than happy to oblige.)
♥︎ HIS CHEERLEADER - @nishions (You and Heeseung are friends with benefits. But, why did you have such an effect on him?)
♥︎ 𐙚 NECESSARY LOVE - LHS - @lilacnini (you realized you were in love with heeseung the whole time)
♥︎ golden boy - @jayflrt (in the summer between high school and college, lee heeseung is determined to make you fall in love with the city of los angeles after your vacation plans in the bahamas fall through. somewhere between the lines, though, you end up falling for your childhood best friend.)
♥︎ won't let you go (this time) - @zreamy (back home for good after a semi-unsuccessful first year at university in a new city, you’re looking forward to getting back into the routines of your old life in the town you grew up in but the one person you’d been desperate to see doesn’t seem too pleased about your return :()
♥︎ hopeless ☆ heeseung lee - @star-sim (absolutely no one would have expected the dark, brooding, and rough heeseung lee to be hopelessly head over heels in love with the sweet, oblivious you. especially you. even with the help of practically the entire year, it's almost pathetic the way heeseung struggles to utter three, simple words to you, let alone look you in the eye.)
♥︎🔖 、FOUND HOME - @kyrjnie
#enhypen#enhypen heeseung#heeseung fluff#heeseung angst#heeseung smut#lee heeseung#heeseung fic#heeseung fic recs#heeseung scenarios#heeseung imagines#heeseung x reader#enhypen fic#enhypen fic recs#enhypen masterlist#enhypen x reader#enhypen fluff#enhypen fics#enhypen recs#park jongseong#jay park#park sunghoon#sim jaeyun#kim sunoo#yang jungwon#nishimura riki#enhypen fic rec#heeseung fic rec
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hey girlyyyyy could you maybe write for Tim Bradford from the rookie and like the reader is his rookie and while they’re on patrol they run into someone who knows the reader’s abusive ex bf and he makes threats against reader and after their shift reader is super scared so he escorts them home and stays with them idk just an idea 😅
Nightlight || Tim Bradford x reader
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • john nolan fic ⋆˚。⋆୨୧⋆
summary: when you encounter a man while on patrol who has a threatening message from your ex, your TO, Tim, offers to spend the night with you
word count: 10.4k
warnings: abusive past relationship, reader kind of has a panic attack, mild language, blood, guns, inaccurate police stuff
a/n: ahhh i had so much fun writing this, love!! i took your idea and also added some stuff so i hope you like what i did. i also apologize for the length, i kinda went wild. i imagine this to take place in s1. fem!reader. enjoy!!
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“7-Adam-19, armed shoplifter, Radcliffe Complex, 718 Oscar Road. Respond.”
The dispatcher’s voice filled the silence of the car.
“7-Adam-19 responding.” Officer Bradford set down the radio and replaced his hand on the steering wheel.
“What’s the most important thing to remember when dealing with an armed shoplifter, Boot?” Tim asked you after a moment.
“Why did I think that when I was in short-sleeves I would get a break from your Tim Tests?” you muttered.
You’d been Bradford’s rookie for seven months now and some days he still treated you like it was your first day on the force. You appreciated him trying to teach you so thoroughly, but did he have to be so Tim all the time?
“Is that your answer, Boot?”
“No, um, I guess it would be that he’s armed. But no, that’s too obvious for you. Ok, what about what they’re stealing? Their physical state? Keeping their hands in sight at all times?”
Tim sighed, looking bored. “Wrong. It’s—”
“Suspect on the move, heading east on Apple Boulevard,” came the dispatcher’s update, interrupting your TO’s answer.
“Looks like we’re headed east,” Tim said, turning sharply in the direction you’d just come from.
“Saved by the suspect,” you joked.
“Don’t think this is over,” Tim narrowed his eyes at the road. “Lessons don’t stop for crime.”
“Ok, batman.”
Tim glared at you.
“I mean, Sir.”
After you’d first been assigned to Officer Bradford, you’d been told stories of his ruthless training style. Your first thought was that you needed to impress him from day one.
Well, technically your first thought was damn, because you’d have to be insane not to notice how objectively attractive he was. But you’d quickly quelled that thought—crushing on your TO was not how you wanted to start your career as an officer.
So, impressing him was your second thought. And you had been more than a little terrified of not impressing him.
You would be lying if you said that wasn’t how things still were between you two, to a degree—you trying to prove yourself and him making it as difficult as possible.
But, at least after several months, you felt like your TO trusted you more.
“There!” You pointed to a man running down the street, duffel bag in hand.
Tim hit the gas, surpassing the suspect, and skidding to a stop in front of him, effectively cutting him off.
You both hurried out of the car, weapons drawn on the man who was currently aiming his gun back and forth, between you and Bradford.
“Police! Drop your weapon!” Tim shouted at the man.
The man hesitated, seeming to be weighing his options—how easily he could take out two cops.
“Set the weapon down, nice and easy,” Tim ordered, his own gun still pointed at the suspect.”
The man, seeming to sense the inevitability of his capture, sighed and set his gun on the ground.
“The answer was dialogue, by the way,” Tim addressed you, his eyes still on the suspect. “Dialogue is the most important thing when dealing with an armed suspect.”
“Good to know,” you acknowledged, before ordering the man in front of you. “Hands behind your head, interlace your fingers.”
The man’s gaze shot to you as he obeyed your commands.
“Hey, lady cop, you look familiar,” the criminal squinted at you.
“You must have me mistaken for someone else,” you said. You’d never seen this man in your life.
“I swear—”
“Hands on the car!” You ordered
The man reluctantly did what he was told, placing his palms on the side of the shop.
“Wait a minute,” the man sized you up before smirking slowly. “Your Paul Cranston’s girl, ain’t ya?”
You felt your blood instantly run cold at the name.
“You must have me mistaken for someone else,” you said again, robotically, grabbing one of his arms.
“No, no I’d recognize that pretty face anywhere,” the criminal whispered. “He told me all about you. Hey, why don’t you let me go and I’ll give you a friendly tip?”
You responded by twisting his arm behind his back even harder.
He winced. “So you didn’t hear then? Paul’s out.”
No. That couldn’t be true. Paul wasn’t supposed to be out for—
“Boot, you going to cuff him or not?” Tim called impatiently.
“Right.” You shook off the stupor and began handcuffing the suspect. Your mind was still on that name, however, and your reflexes were slowed.
Which is how the suspect was able to rip his arm from your grip and shove you to the ground as he tried to make a break for it.
Tim tackled him almost immediately, wrestling him into the cuffs that were dangling on one of his wrists where you had started to restrain him, and pushing him towards the shop.
“Wait, Paul’s got a message for you!” the man hurried out, looking only at you as Tim waked over and shoved him into the backseat. “He said you best watch yourself, because he has connections, and he still hasn’t gotten his revenge. He’s out—and he’s coming for you.”
“That’s enough, get in the car.” Tim slammed the door shut, and the echo of it rang in your ears as the man’s words played over and over again.
He’s out, and he’s coming for you.
“What the hell was that?”
You looked up to Bradford’s questioning—and furious—face. He offered you a hand and you took it, standing up to face him.
“Sorry, I—”
“‘Sorry’ doesn’t stop criminals from escaping,” Tim shouted. “Get your head in the game. You do want to be a cop, don’t you, Boot?”
“Yes, sir.”
So much for Tim trusting you. You couldn’t believe you’d almost just let a suspect get away. That had never happened to you before. But, that name—
Your TO shook his head, walking to the drivers side and opening the door. “You know, I should write you up for that.”
You noticed his wording. “But you’re not going to?”
He waited for you to get into the passenger seat before saying,
“I didn’t say that. First you’re going to tell me what just happened between you two.”
You flinched. “It—nothing. It was nothing.”
“Uh-huh. It didn’t sound like nothing. Who’s Paul Cranston?”
You swallowed hard. “He’s just someone I used to know.”
A million images flashed through your head. Paul’s face looming over you. The flashing lights and sirens. Waking up in the hospital.
You shook yourself out of it. You didn’t want to talk about this now. You swore you’d never talk about it again. “Shouldn’t—shouldn’t we get back to the station. Don’t we have to book this guy?”
Tim sighed, started the car, and re-entered traffic. You breathed a sigh of relief.
“Control, this is 7-Adam-19. I need an ID on a Paul Cranston,” Tim spoke into his radio.
And so much for not talking about this now.
“Can you do that without suspicion of a crime?” You asked him.
“You can when dispatch loves you.” He winked at you.
You rolled your eyes at him as the radio began speaking.
“Paul Cranston: caucasian male, date of birth 8/4/92, recently released on parole, history of theft and domestic violence.”
Tim turned his gaze to you. “How do you know this man, Boot?”
“It’s—a long story,” you told him.
“Well then you better start talking if you want to finish before we reach the station,” Tim commanded, making a left turn.
“Can’t you just let it go?” You asked him. “It’s really not that big of a deal.”
He’s out, and he’s coming for you.
You couldn’t fight the shiver that racked your body.
Tim’s eyes flicked to you, before returning back to the road. Suddenly, he slammed on the brakes, shifting the car into park before turning to you.
“If this is another one of your ‘I’m dying, where are we’ tests—”
“Boot, focus,” Tim barked.
“With all due respect, sir, I don’t think it’s really any of your concern if—”
“Of course it’s my concern!” Tim shouted. His expression was so intense, you squirmed under his gaze and you felt your face heat.
He looked torn for a moment, before sighing and saying, “It’s my job as your TO to train you to the best of my abilities, and I can’t do that if you’re withholding information that may affect your performance as an officer.”
“Fine,” you breathed. “It was a long time ago. I was 18, Paul and I met freshman year of college. We started dating and things were fine, good even, for a while.”
“Until?” Tim prompted.
“Until he got pissed one night because I caught him coming home really late with a ski mask and a bag full of stolen cash. Cliche, right?”
You looked to Tim, but his expression was as stony as ever and you continued.
“Apparently, he’d been stealing since high school and turns out he’d lied to me about working in retail and a whole bunch of other stuff. I threatened to call the police if he didn’t stop and—”
You took a deep breath, steeling yourself.
You watched the houses and trees and cars pass by as you drove towards the station.
“—and he hit me. It didn't stop after that—once he knew he could get away with it. He said if I ever told anyone—about the robberies, the beatings—that he’d kill me. And I let him go on like that for months. I was so scared that if I called anyone, he’d make good on his promise.”
Tim’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his fingers turning white, but he didn’t speak.
“But then, one night, it got so bad that I thought he might actually kill me anyway. So I waited until he left the room for a minute and I called 911. He was arrested and—and that’s all I remember before I blacked out. I woke up in the hospital the next morning.”
You kept your voice even, trying not to let the emotion show through your story. You were just recounting facts. This was almost 10 years ago, and you’d moved on with your life.
But reliving it all was hard, even after so much time had passed.
“It’s actually why I joined the academy,” you finished. “I wanted to save people, the way the officers that night did for me.”
You were both silent for a moment.
A muscle in Tim’s jaw ticked. “Does the department know?”
“Yeah,” you sighed. “It’s all part of my file.”
“And the guy back there?”
You shrugged, glancing back at the suspect and lowering your voice. “He must be one of Paul’s partners or goons or—I don’t know. I guess he’s been in contact with him since he was released, if he knows what I look like.”
The thought made your skin crawl.
“I don’t know what came over me,” you kept going. “It’s been years, I just—I didn’t expect to hear about him out of the blue from a criminal on the street, you know? But, I promise it won’t happen again.”
Tim ignored that. “Do you think it was an empty threat?”
“I don’t know,” you admitted. “But I sure as hell hope so.”
Bradford was silent for a long moment, his expression tense.
The radio crackled to life. “7-Adam-19, we have a 215 in progress near your area, 239 West Armston Street. Respond.”
“Negative,” Bradford answered the dispatch call.
You stared at him, shocked. “Why aren’t we taking that? We can drop this guy off afterwards.”
“Yeah, I agree,” the suspect chimed in from the backseat. “I think you should take that first.”
Tim payed him no attention. “They’ll have someone else over there in minutes. We have more important things to do.”
“You’re not even going to ask me if I know what a 215 is?” You joked. Tim never passed up an opportunity to quiz you.
“What’s a 215, Boot?”
“Carjacking.”
“Correct.” Tim nodded. “And we’re going to have a talk with Sergeant Grey.”
₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚
“Paul Cranston, released on parole from a thirteen year sentence three days ago, currently believed to be residing in the Woodland Hills area.”
You sat in the briefing room, surrounded by other officers, as Sergeant Grey read out your ex-boyfriend’s file. You stared into Paul’s face on the screen, his mugshot visible from all angles.
Bradford stood near the front of the room, leaning against the wall.
“The department is aware of Officer (Y/l/n)’s history with Mr. Cranston,” Grey continued. “And will take necessary action should the situation progress.”
“So, what’s the course of action here?” Tim crossed his arms.
“I’m afraid, as of now, there isn’t one,” Grey said. “Since there is no direct proof against Paul Cranston, we’d essentially be taking the word of a petty thief and wasting resources on what most likely was a desperate attempt to escape arrest. The department doesn’t exactly consider it a threat.”
“Doesn’t consider it a threat?” Tim’s voice was low and dangerous. “How about a charge for threatening an officer?”
“But Paul didn’t threaten an officer,” you sighed, thinking. “The armed robbery suspect did.”
“Exactly, Officer (Y/l/n),” Grey agreed. “Basically, our hands are tied.”
“Then untie them,” Bradford snapped, beginning to pace. “There’s gotta be some technicality we can get him on. Violation of parole, conspiring with a felon, failure to—”
“That’s enough, Officer Bradford,” The sergeant fixed your TO with a firm look. “I appreciate your concern for (Y/l/n)’s safety, but we’ve done all we can do. And, for now, that’s nothing.”
Tim’s concern for your safety. That thought had been in the back of your mind since the ride to the station. You couldn’t figure out why Tim was so determined about this. You supposed you were his rookie and was his job to look out for you. It was just, up until now, he hadn’t exactly done anything to make you believe he’d care so much.
“Failure to take action could be endangering one of our officers,” Tim said, his jaw clenched. “Who’s to say this guy won’t make good on his threat? At least increase security at (Y/l/n)’s residence.”
“Tim, its fine,” you said, your voice firm. “Let it go.”
They were making a big enough deal about this already. It probably was just a case of a criminal trying anything to get free. You doubted Paul even cared about what happened to you anymore. He probably never wanted to see you again—and that was a good thing.
But, then, you couldn’t get those words out of your head.
He’s out and he’s coming for you.
Bradford turned to you, his chest rising and falling. He looked so…resolved. Like he did when chasing down a suspect or that time when you’d walked in on him in the training rooms.
Images of Tim shirtless, the muscles in his back tight as he pushed himself harder filled your head and you quickly shook them away. Definitely not the time.
“We’ll send a surveillance team to Paul’s location in the morning,” Grey said, turning to address you. “But for now the best thing you can do is to go home, get some sleep, and not let this rattle you. Understood?”
“Yes, Sergeant.”
“Good. Because the last thing the L.A.P.D needs is a cop who lets their personal life get in the way of their ability to do their job in any way that’s less than exemplary. I trust that’s not the case?”
You glanced to Bradford, certain he was going to mention your mistake with the suspect earlier.
“No, Sir,” Tim said instead. “My rookies don’t do ‘less than exemplary’. Don’t worry about (Y/l/n)—she’s proved to me she has what it takes to be an officer.”
“Glad to hear it. Shift over. Everybody else, back to work,” Sergeant Grey waved everyone away.
You walked towards the front of the room, hearing grumbled complaints about midnight shift from the unlucky officers who still had to do patrol as you did so.
You stopped in front of your TO. His eyes were on you, his brow drawn in something that looked like concern.
“Thanks,” you said. You couldn’t believe he’d told Grey all that—it was the most complimentary thing he’d said about you in your whole time riding with him.
“I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true,” Tim stated, shrugging. “I expect you to live up to any praise I’ve given you.”
“Yes, sir,” you nodded, almost smiling.
“Besides, you’re being trained by me. You’d have to be royally screwed up not to become one of the best on the force.”
“And he’s humble too,” you teased. “But I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
“Whatever, Boot.” Tim smiled, shaking his head.
“Be nonchalant all you want,” you said, feeling brave. “I know you like me.”
For a brief moment, Tim looked like you’d slapped him. But then, the flash of—whatever that was—was gone and his expression was replaced by one of cold indifference.
“In your TO not your friend, (Y/l/n),” he stated. “It’s not about liking you. It’s about training you.”
You sighed inwardly. Just when you thought you were making ground with Tim, he treated you like you’d just met. “Of course, how could I forget.”
Tim stayed silent.
“Well, I should head out,” you told him, “I’ve got a busy night ahead me. You know, trying not to get killed by my ex and all.”
You’d meant it as a joke, to make light of the situation that left you feeling more uneasy than you’d care to admit. Tim, however, just shook his head and brushed past you, out of the briefing room.
You stood there for a moment, trying to work through what had just happened, before turning around and taking a step in the other direction. Only to find Officers Lopez and Bishop standing in front of you, staring between you and Tim’s retreating figure.
“So how’d you do it?” Bishop looked you up and down.
“Do what?” You asked, confused.
“Get Tim wrapped around your finger,” Lopez answered for her, smirking.
You felt your eyes widen. “Tim’s not—”
“Please,” Lopez put her hands on her hips. “I’ve watched him train dozens of rookies and he’s never stood up for any of them like that. So naturally I figured you’re either blackmailing him or sleeping with him.”
You blanched, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks as you let what Angela said sink in. You knew she was just teasing you, but the statement caught you off guard. You imagined you and Tim—together. It wasn’t necessarily an unpleasant thought. And then you realized what you were thinking and you chided yourself, hurriedly un-imagining it.
“No, that’s not—neither one of those things,” you answered quickly. “Trust me, Tim doesn’t give me any special treatment, if that’s what you’re implying. I actually can’t tell if he hates me half of the time.”
“We’re not implying anything,” Bishop replied. “Only observing. And he doesn’t hate you.”
“How can you possibly know that?” You were suddenly insecure. You still held on to a secret dread that you were going to wildly disappoint Tim—that you already had. Sure, there was all the stuff he had just said. But there was also months of him being hard on you and saying that you weren’t friends.
“Because I’ve seen him hate plenty of people,” Bishop spoke. “And he definitely didn’t look at them the way he looks at you.”
The way Tim looked at you? You weren’t aware he looked at you in a way that was different from the way he looked at anyone else at the station.
“What are you guys trying to say?” You asked them.
“I’m saying watch out,” Bishop raised an eyebrow. “Because Tim might like you more than he’s willing to let you—or himself—in on.”
Could there be any truth to what the two officers were saying? Was it wrong for a small part of you to hope there was?
“Um, ok,” you said, blinking. “I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.”
“Don’t believe us if you want, it’s your call,” Bishop shrugged, backing up. “But I’m telling you, you mean something to Tim that the rest of us can only guess at.”
And with that she walked out of the room.
“Bishop can be intense,” Angela said when the woman was out of earshot. “She’s got that whole ‘anti-cops-dating’ thing going on—but I do think she’s right about this. Tim’s tough, and I’m sure he gives you hell—but it’s not because he doesn’t like you. I actually think it’s quite the opposite. ”
Was there really something that everyone saw between you and Tim except for you? You still couldn’t even entertain the thought that Tim had feelings for you that were more than TO and rookie.
“Well you’ve certainly left me with a lot to think about,” you said finally.
“Then I’ll let you start thinking—you’re welcome for the peace of mind.”
You wouldn’t have used the phrase peace of mind, yourself. Sure, it was nice to know that the officers who had known your TO for years were confident that he didn’t look down on you. But, this conversation also had left your head swimming with conflicting thoughts about Tim that you didn’t feel like dealing with right now.
“And take care,” Lopez said knowingly. “We have your back if anything happens.”
With that, your thoughts slammed back to the current situation.
“Right, that. You—you think something’s going to happen?” You asked, trying to sound casual.
“I think in this job we have to be prepared for the worst,” she corrected. “But I also think that bastard would have to be pretty stupid to mess with you.”
She smiled at you and you smiled back. After watching her leave, you followed her path, heading towards the locker rooms.
You thought about what she had said about you and Tim, about Paul.
You hoped she was right—you just couldn’t say which you hoped she was more right about.
₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚
Your thoughts bounced between your conversation with Talia and Angela and the message from your ex as you walked to your car minutes later.
When you woke up this morning, you thought the most stressful part of your day would’ve been a police chase or a shootout. You never would’ve expected it to be my ex-boyfriend is out of jail and could be hunting me down and my training officer might have feelings for me.
Funny how things could change so fast.
Suddenly, you heard a bang. You spun around quickly, your heart in your throat. But it was only a car door being slammed shut from across the parking lot.
Get a grip, you told yourself.
You rounded the corner, running a hand through your hair.
You stopped. Tim was leaning against the side of your car, arms crossed in front of his chest. He looked you up and down.
“What are you doing?” You asked.
“Driving you home, Boot,” Tim said. “Get in the car.”
“Tim, you don’t have to—”
“That wasn’t a question, give me the keys.”
There was no point in fighting him. Besides, there was a small part of you that didn’t really want to fight him.
You tossed him the keys to your car and got in the passenger seat with a sigh.
Tim started the engine.
“If this is about Paul, this really isn’t necessary,” you said after you’d been driving for several minutes and the silence became too much. “I can handle myself. I am an officer, in case you forgot.”
“You’re a rookie,” Tim corrected, eyes never leaving the road. “And if the department won’t do anything, then I will.”
“What—we’re not going to go looking for him, are we?” You asked.
“Of course not,” Tim scoffed. “I’m not a vigilante, Boot. Where do you live?”
“Take a left at the light,” you guided.
Neither of you talked for the remainder of the drive, save your occasional directions. When you pointed out your apartment building, Tim parked the car and handed you the keys.
“Thanks,” you mumbled to him as you got out of the car, grabbing your bag and heading towards the building.
You heard a door shut behind you and turned to find your TO standing on the sidewalk, an eyebrow raised.
“You didn’t think I was just going to let you spend the night alone with a target on your head, did you, Boot?”
“Tim—”
“No more protests,” he said firmly. “As your TO, I—”
“No, I was just going to say that if you were planning on staying here, why couldn’t I have just driven my own car?”
“I don’t let my rookies drive,” Tim walked past you and to the front door. “Even off-duty.”
You followed him quickly, getting out your key and letting you both in.
When you reached your apartment you did a quick scan of the space—it wasn’t exactly like you’d been expecting company, much less your training officer. You cringed at the messiness.
“How many entrances and exits are there?” Bradford asked.
“Um, just the front door. And there’s windows in the kitchen and the bedroom,” you said.
You skimmed past everything in the place, looking towards the window in your bedroom. Your eye caught on one of your bras hanging from your bedpost. You quickly ran over and shut the door, blushing and hoping Tim hadn’t noticed.
“Please, Boot,” Tim made a face. “It’s nothing I haven’t already seen before.”
“Ok no offense, but I usually don’t let guys see my bra the first time I bring them to my place,” you joked.
“If that’s an offer, I’m going to have to politely decline.”
“What—no,” you hurried out, worried your voice sounded wrong. “I just meant—”
Tim interrupted. “I’m going to do a sweep of the place, make sure everything’s as it should be.”
“Is that really needed?”
“I’m not taking any chances.” He left the room and you sunk down onto the couch, letting your bag fall to the floor.
Your TO returned a few minutes later. “All clear.”
“See, everything’s fine,” you said, speaking just as much to yourself as you were to Tim.
“Well,” Bradford started, amusement in his eyes. “I wouldn’t say everything is fine. Your storage closet’s a fire hazard.”
Had Tim Bradford just made a joke?
“I’ll be sure not to exit through the closet in the events of a fire,” you said sarcastically. “And if you keep insulting my living space, I’m going to be forced to kick you out.”
“Bold for someone whose career I could end.”
“You can’t end my career for that,” you shot back. Paused. “Can you?”
Tim raised his eyebrows.
“Only one way to find out,” you said enthusiastically, teasing him now. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t let the closet trap you on the way out.
“Nice try, Boot. But you’re still stuck with me for,” Tim checked his watch. “eight hours.”
“Nine hours,” you corrected. You had to leave for work in nine hours.
“You’re right, I should get us drinks,” Tim joked.
You rolled you eyes and he shot you a look. “Help yourself to anything in the fridge.”
Tim got up, disappearing into the kitchen.
“Is all you own ginger ale, Boot?” He called.
“There’s six year old tequila in the cupboard,” you suggested.
“Ginger ale it is.”
Tim joined you in the living room again, carrying two bottles. He handed one to you, sitting down on the opposite side of the couch.
You noted the careful distance he put between you.
“What’s this thing made of, Boot? Plywood?” Tim asked, inspecting the couch.
You smothered a laugh.
“Get comfortable. It’s where you’re sleeping,” you answered.
“Won’t be necessary. If you’re not awake you’re not aware.”
“So, what, we’re taking shifts on guard like this is a stakeout?” You asked.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I didn’t come here to sleep.”
“Tim I can’t let you stay up all night while I’m unconscious.” you sighed.
“You can if it’s an order. Besides, no offense, but rookies are historically less vigilant and have a slower response time…”
You tried not to take offense at that. “Right, Eagle Eye.”
Tim glared at you.
“Angela told me.”
“Of course she did. And at least I didn’t leave valuable evidence on the street to chase after a dog wearing a top hat.”
“Sparky could’ve been involved in the crime,” you said, indignant. “And that was one time!”
“One time too many,” Tim mumbled, lifting the bottle to his lips, his eyes sparkling.
“Ok, so when you were a rookie you were, what, perfect?” You shot back.
“Damn straight.” Tim nodded.
“You made no mistakes, at all?” You prompted.
“Well,” Tim took a sip of his drink. “There was one thing.”
“Aside from the graffiti incident?”
“That wasn’t a mistake because it wasn’t my fault. I was following direct orders and—you know what, never mind. If you don’t want to hear it—”
“No, no, I do!” you scooted towards the edge of your seat in anticipation. “And none of that ‘I worked too hard and too efficiently’ crap.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said sarcastically. “My first week on the job I was put on paperwork duty, which was—”
“Boring and tedious? I can imagine,” you deadpanned, having been put in charge of paperwork by Tim many times.
“I was going to say necessary and a valuable skill to have,” Bradford corrected. “But anyways, we had just got done booking a couple suspects and I was working on the reports. A triple homicide and a prostitution case. It was a long day and I was tired and I guess I got sloppy—”
“You? Sloppy?” You interrupted.
“Do you want me to tell you this story or not?”
“Right, sorry. Continue.”
Tim did. “I’d just finished tagging the evidence for both cases and when I was filling everything out I somehow got the numbers mixed up. Long story short, according to my report, the homicide gun ended up being linked to the prostitution case and the weapon allegedly used in the triple homicide was…a pair of pink, fluffy handcuffs.”
You couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped you now.
“Forensics caught it before it was sent to the judge, thank god,” Bradford sighed. “But the next day when I was getting ready for my shift, I was greeted by dozens of similar handcuffs in my locker—apparently Smitty has a guy.”
“Tell me you kept them,” you begged, pulling your knees up to your chest.
“Of course not!”
Tim blinked.
“Well, not all of them—Isabel made me take a pair home. I found out later that she was the one who orchestrated the whole prank. She used to do stuff like that all the time before she, uh,—”
“Tim—”
You’d heard about Bradford’s ex-wife. How she’d become an addict, gotten herself mixed up with bad people. You knew how much it had affected Tim, even if he hadn’t said so.
She was in rehab now, getting her life back together. You were glad she was finally getting the help she needed. Still, you knew how much she meant to Tim. How much it had hurt him to move on from her and let her start a new life without him.
“I’m fine.” Tim said firmly, clearing his throat. “It’s good to talk about her…before. She’s on the right path now.”
You stared at the ground in front of you, picking at your fingernails.
“Are you still in love with her?” The question was out of your mouth before you could stop it. You didn’t know why you asked—didn’t know why you cared what the answer was. Ten minutes ago you wouldn’t have even dared to ask that question.
But he was being so uncharacteristically open and you seemed to be getting along well. You reluctantly brought your eyes up to Tim.
His eyes had gone wide. He looked like he wanted to leave or yell at you or both, and you immediately regretted it.
But then his eyes softened and he opened his mouth. “No. I’ll always care about her and she’ll always be someone that I did love. But relationships change—people change.”
You nodded. “I get it—I mean, I’m kind of rusty on relationships—but I get it. I actually haven’t dated anyone since Paul. I guess it was just hard to trust someone after that. I kind of sabotaged any relationship that had any chance of starting.”
It was the first time you’d admitted that to anyone. You wouldn’t have pegged Tim as being so easy to talk to. You had almost forgotten about the whole Paul situation before you’d just brought him up. You had been enjoying hanging out with Tim, no matter the circumstances. He was actually pleasant to be around when he wasn’t on the clock.
You imagined this happening more often—you and Tim, not just coworkers but friends. Maybe even more. Maybe this was one relationship you didn’t have to end before it started.
You dared to let yourself think about it. You watched Tim process your words. Saw the emotion clearly written in his face as he looked at you intensely.
“Hey, thanks again for not letting me be alone tonight,” you told him, you’re voice soft.
“Don’t take it personally, Boot,” he said. “My house is being repainted and even your place beats breathing in paint fumes all night.”
“I’m honored,” you laughed, rolling your eyes. “But you have to admit this has been fun—hanging out.”
Your little impromptu sleepover. You smiled.
Tim, however, looked like a switch had been flipped inside of him. You watched as he clenched his jaw, leaning almost imperceptibly away from you
“Listen, Boot—”
He was cut off by the sound of breaking glass and a loud thumping sound.
You both shot up off the couch, abandoning your drinks. Tim’s hand went to his gun. You did the same.
Tim turned to you. “Stay here.”
“Like hell,” you shot back, following him as he started to do a sweep of the main room.
If that sound was someone—Paul—breaking in, you weren’t going to sit here and let Bradford fight your battles for you.
He signaled to let you know he was moving to the kitchen. You nodded, following.
“Clear,” he muttered, and moved on towards the bathroom. You were right behind him when you heard another noise, like the muffled sound of scraping of furniture, and you spun around.
The bedroom. It was the only room in that direction that you hadn’t checked yet.
You glanced to Tim, but he hadn’t heard it. He was a few feet ahead of you, just now entering the bathroom.
You slowly stepped away from him and made your way across the apartment, down the hall and over to the closed bedroom door.
Holding your weapon in one hand, you opened the door with the other. But, you barely had time to see what was on the other side before you were grabbed and a cloth was shoved into your mouth.
Your gun was ripped from your hand, and you were pushed hard onto the ground. Your wrist burned where you landed on shards of glass from the broken window
Something smacked into the back of your head and you were dragged and thrown onto the bed on the corner. You heard the door shut.
Squinting up into the light, rubbing your throbbing head, your heart dropped as you saw who was in front of you.
“Did you miss me?” Paul sneered, spinning your gun in his hand.
You froze. Everything crashed into you at once. The events of the last time you saw your ex-boyfriend sped through your mind. Suddenly, you were scared and 18 again, at the mercy of this man.
“I guess you got my man’s message,” Paul continued. “Because you don’t exactly look shocked to see me. Scared, of course, but not shocked.”
Coming back to yourself, you scrambled up onto your knees, ready to knock him out.
Paul shook his head, laughing. “No, no. If you move even an inch I’ll shoot you right in the forehead.”
You sat back down, your heart thumping in your chest as you scanned the room for a way out. Some way to get the upper hand on him. You had been trained for this.
“Listen to me,” he continued, his hand coming to the gag in your mouth. You flinched away from him. “I know there’s someone in here with you. If you try to scream to alert them, I will also shoot you. I’d like to play with you first before I put a bullet in your brain but, hey, I’m not picky. Is that clear?”
You nodded, trying to measure how fast you could knock the weapon out of his hand before he could take a shot at you. Paul took the cloth out of you mouth.
You gasped in air. “Backup’s going to be in here any second and then you’re going back to prison.”
Tim would notice you were gone. He had to.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Paul smiled. “I’ll be long gone and you’ll be long dead before that happens.”
You glanced towards the door. What was taking him so long?
Suddenly, Paul reached forwards and gripped your face in his hand. “Just as beautiful as I remember. It was such a shame things had to end with us as they did. How did that happen again? Oh, that’s right. You betrayed me.”
“And that was the best decision I ever made,” you spat.
Paul backed up, shaking his head. “You’ve gotten feistier, baby. It’ll make this so much more fun for me.”
He stepped back towards you, his face inches from yours, sneering. “This’ll be just like old times.”
Bam! The door to your bedroom busted open. Bradford rushed in, taking in the situation. You breathed a sigh of relief.
“Get down on the ground!” Tim growled.
Paul froze for only a second, fear flashing across his face, but it was enough. You lunged, wrestling the gun out of his hands, your wrist protesting.
You trained it on him. Paul was surrounded.
“You have five seconds to get on the ground before I shoot you,” Tim bit out, his expression murderous.
“Come on, baby, you’re not going to let Officer Buzzkill treat me like that, are you?” Paul appealed to you.
You leveled your gaze on him, ignoring his words. “You heard him. Get on the ground.”
Paul slowly knelt, never taking his eyes off of you. Tim charged him, pulling out handcuffs and locking them around his wrists.
You took a moment to be amused—of course Tim had off-duty cuffs.
“So this ends the way it starts, huh?” Paul shook his head. “You getting me locked up?”
“Just like old times,” you echoed his earlier statement. You stayed stoic, putting your hands on your hips to hide the way they shook.
Anger sparked in Paul’s eyes before he took on a smug expression. “You’re right. You’re the same girl you were when I met you. You haven’t changed a bit.”
“Don’t listen to him, Boot,” Tim warned hauling the man up off the ground.
“You know I’m right,” Paul’s manic eyes bore into yours. He was enjoying every moment of this, laughter in his tone. It took all that was in you to keep your expression blank, unaffected. “You’ll always be that person I knew—the person who loved me. Because you did—love me. You could’ve walked away. But you didn’t. You just took it all like the victim you are. You pathetic bitch—”
He was cut off abruptly as Tim slammed him face-first against the wall. Paul cried out.
“That’s enough!” Tim shouted. “If you ever threaten—no, if you even look at (Y/l/n) again, I will hunt you down and personally remove every external limb from your body, do you understand me? (Y/n) is a million times the person you will ever be and you don’t get to make her feel small. If I didn’t think sitting in a cell for the rest of your life was a worse fate, I’d kill you right now—screw the department.”
Your ears were ringing, your head dizzy as you tried to ground yourself. Your voice came out tiny. “Tim, stop.”
Bradford turned to you, almost as if he had forgotten you were in the room. He was breathing hard, his fists clenched around the man in custody.
“And she’s not a victim,” Tim whispered, turning back to Paul, his voice right by his ear. “She’s a survivor.”
With that, he shoved Paul back to the ground and moved over to you, his eyes roaming over your face. Your body. He took the gun out of your hands, setting it on the desk. Then, he gripped your injured wrist and you winced as he inspected it.
“Probably hurts like hell, but you won’t need stitches. Any other injuries?”
“Um, he hit me in the back of the head,” you felt your scalp, a lump already forming.
Tim’s hands moved to your hair, his touch gentle, his breath on your cheek as he leaned to get a better look.
Your own breath caught, your heart racing at the intimacy of your position.
“What’s the damage?” You almost whispered.
Tim’s eyes met yours, the heat of his stare spreading through your body. “You’ll have a nasty bruise, but there’s no external bleeding.”
Tim stepped back, and you found yourself wishing he hadn’t.
“Are you—are you ok, Boot?” He asked carefully.
How did you even answer that question? You were still in shock, unable to process what had just happened.
“I will be,” you settled on, breathing in slowly. Exhaling.
Tim looked like he wanted to say more but he clenched his jaw, glancing in the direction of Paul, who had been uncharacteristically silent. Maybe he had finally accepted his defeat.
“I’m going to call for back up, you go clean that up,” Tim gestured to the blood covering your wrist where you had landed in the broken glass. “You need help?”
“No, I got it,” You nodded, walking towards the bathroom as you heard Tim make the call.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“This is off-duty officer Tim Bradford, badge 34831. I need a unit to my location for a 126. Suspect in custody. Code 4.”
Tim’s voice faded as you made your way down the hall, shutting the bathroom door after you to access the medicine cabinet behind it.
You took out the necessary supplies and began cleaning the wound. You stopped in front of the sink, letting your burning eyes close for a moment, massaging your temples.
Now that you were alone, you let yourself collapse, bracing your hands against the counter
Images flooded your senses.
The gag. Paul hitting you from behind. You, young and frightened, huddled on the ground. That gleam in his eyes.
Your eyes snapped open, your breath coming out fast.
He’s in custody. You told yourself. He can’t hurt you anymore.
You looked at your reflection in the mirror staring wearily back at you, your hands still shaking as you brushed your hair back from your face. Was it hot in here or was it just you?
Turning your attention back to your wrist, you took a deep breath and continued to dab at the wound.
You reached for the bandages on the counter. A sheen of sweat broke out on your forehead as you wrapped your arm.
You pictured Paul’s grip on you. His words rang in your ears.
You’re the same girl you were when I met you. You haven’t changed a bit.
The room tilted. You swayed on your feet so you sunk down to the ground, leaning your head against the cabinet, the cool wood pressing against your head.
You tried to slow your erratic breathing but you couldn’t. You couldn’t—
The sound of footsteps and voices carried through the door. You were vaguely aware that it was probably the backup here to take Paul away.
You closed your eyes, your throat tight, you pulse thundering in your ears.
I’m ok, you tried to tell yourself. I’m ok. I’m ok.
You were unaware how long you sat like this. You had no concept of time. Your thoughts were wild, images flashing in and out, unable to form conscious ideas. Every breath sending a sharp pain through your body.
“Boot?”
The muffled voice was closer than the others had been.
“Boot?” The voice was louder now. You registered Tim at the door. He knocked once. Twice.
“Boot, I’m coming in,” he shouted, his voice laced with worry. The door was shoved open.
“Dammit,” he cursed, seeing your state. You felt him getting closer to you, but you didn’t look up as he knelt by you, his concerned expression taking in yours.
“Hey, look at me,” Tim coaxed. “(Y/l/n), breathe.”
He seemed miles and miles away. There was a pause.
“Hey, Boot, I got another test for you,” he spoke quickly, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. “I want you to tell me the most annoying person we work with.”
“What?” You rasped, barely hearing him.
“Bishop’s an easy target,” he said. “And Lopez is a slob, so you can’t go wrong there. West’s got the whole daddy issues thing. Don’t even get me started on Nolan—”
You swallowed hard, your mouth feeling dry.
“And then there’s me. I mean, I’m annoying right?”
You breathed a shaky laugh, opening your eyes slowly.
Tim smiled. “Oh so you agree? It’s ok, Boot, you can say me. Go ahead, I can take it.”
When you didn’t say anything, Tim kept talking. “Personally I’d go for Detective Coleman. The man makes double what I do and I’m convinced he doesn’t own a decent looking tie.”
“L-like the—the green one from last week,” you managed, trying to slow your breathing.
“Leprechauns would call it tacky,” Tim agreed. “Now, since we’ve discussed this from all angles I’m going to need you to choose wisely. Because this is going to go on your evaluation for today.”
You gulped. “Are—are you going to get me fired if I say you?”
Tim let out a quiet, relieved laugh. “I knew it. Guess who’s going back to long-sleeves on Monday?”
“In this heat wave? You—you wouldn’t dare,” you joked, sniffing.
“I don’t know, I am the most annoying person you work with—sounds like something I might do.”
You laughed again, this time the sound coming out less strained. You focused on taking deep breaths, feeling your heart rate return to normal.
“There you go.” Tim stood up, offering his hand to you for the second time that day. You gripped his arm as he pulled you up onto shaky legs.
“Thanks,” you mumbled, embarrassed to have had your TO see you like this now that your head was clearer.
“For what, doing my job?”
You smiled weakly at him, running a hand along your forehead. “Sorry for um—”
“Having a normal reaction to a highly emotional situation? Don’t apologize for being human,” Tim said firmly, his forehead creased.
“So, he’s gone?” You’re voice came out small.
Tim’s expression softened. “He’s gone.”
You nodded again, looking at the floor. Tim sighed, reaching an arm out. “Come here.”
You took a step towards him and then you were in his arms, his embrace strengthening you as he rubbed your back. You stood there like that, not wanting this to end. Not wanting to put distance between you again. Finally, he pulled back and looked down at you, his gaze weighted, before taking a few steps towards the door. You looked over Tim’s shoulder.
“Hey, (Y/n), look at me.” Tim said. You brought your gaze up to meet his. “He is never going to hurt you again, ok? I’ll make sure of that.”
You let your eyes fall closed, feeling ashamed that you had been so affected. That Tim had to handle all of this for you. “I know. And I’ll understand if after…all this, you don’t see me fit to—to be a police officer anymore.”
Tim’s eyes hardened, his voice hardening with them. “With all do respect, Boot, that’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said. I meant every word of what I said back there—you’re a survivor. All I saw tonight is that you are a brave and intelligent woman who just so happens to have a scumbag of an ex-boyfriend. Don’t let it define you because then he wins. You’re a great cop, (Y/l/n). It’s rookies like you who make the force as strong as it is.”
You listened to Tim speak. He sounded so…passionate. Bishop’s words came back to you.
Tim might like you more than he’s willing to let you—or himself—in on.
You desperately wanted that to be true, now more than ever. He’d been so kind to you in this past hour—staying with you, rescuing you, reassuring you, bringing you back from whatever dark place you had just been in.
And then this. Talking about you like he…like he really cared about you. And maybe it was just because he felt like as your training officer he had to protect you. But in the moment, it felt like maybe it could be more than that.
“So what I’m hearing is, I’m getting a promotion?” You teased finally, brushing your hair back from your damp face, breaking the silence.
Bradford put up a hand. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, you still have a lot to learn from me.”
You sighed. This was normal, this was comfortable. How you and Tim always acted with each other. You were both relieved and disappointed at the change back into familiar territory.
You ran a hand through your hair, stifling a yawn. Saying today had been a long day would’ve been the understatement of the century.
“Now come on,” Tim flicked his head in the direction of the door. “It’s way past my bedtime.”
“Let me guess, nine p.m. sharp every night?” You teased.
“That’s not true.”
You raised an eyebrow at him.
“Nine-thirty,” he admitted.
You giggled, following Tim out of the bathroom and into the hallway which led to the living room.
You glanced at your bedroom as you passed it, trying not to think about what had happened in there. It was over now, you told yourself.
“Since my room is kind of a crime scene, I guess we’re both crashing out here,” you sighed, gesturing to the couch.
Silence filled the room and you immediately realized your mistake, cheeks flaming.
“Or, right, I guess you can go now. Danger’s over.”
“Are you kidding?” Tim said. “And get to bed even later? I’m not going anywhere.”
You stepped into the living room. You were glad Tim was staying. You felt safer with him here, even though you knew it was irrational.
“I’ll get the blankets and stuff,” you said, turning back the way you’d came.
“Let me go with you,” Tim offered.
“I would but they’re in the closet and I don’t want it to trap you or something,” you said.
“You think I can’t take a closet full of your crap? Bring it on,” Tim challenged and you led him down the hall.
A few minutes later you returned to the living room, blankets and pillows in tow. Tim helped you pull out the couch bed—you were grateful you’d opted for this couch instead of a regular one—and you stood back, admiring your work.
“Take the couch,” you told him. “It was your bed originally.”
“Not gonna happen.” Tim crossed his arms. “It’s your house. And you’re injured.”
“I’m fine. And where are you going to sleep? The floor?” You asked him.
Tim scanned the room and then sat down on the chair across from the couch-turned-bed.
“Are you sure you’re ok on that?” You asked. It didn’t exactly look comfortable for spending hours on.
“Trust me, Boot, you got the short end of the stick. Have fun sleeping on plywood.”
You smiled. “So, what, you’re just going to sit over there and watch me sleep?”
“I can leave, if you’re—”
“No,” you’re voice came out faster and more sharp than you’d intended. “I mean, you came all this way, I don’t want you to have to get an Uber home at this hour.”
You climbed into bed, aware that you were still in your clothes, but not caring enough to change.
“We should get some sleep, it’s been a long night,” Tim sighed. He got up and turned the lights off, darkness filling the room.
“Damn, boot,” you heard Tim’s voice even though you couldn’t see him anymore. “It’s pitch black in here. You don’t sleep with a light or anything?”
“Well I don’t usually sleep in my living room,” you pointed out. Then you stifled a laugh. “Wait a minute. Is Officer Tim Bradford afraid of the dark?”
Tim scoffed. “I’m not afraid of the dark.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” you teased.
“There is no secret,” Tim shot back.
You winked. “Exactly.”
“You’re impossible.”
“Thank you.” You smiled.
The room fell silent. You heard him sit back down.
You laid back, staring up at the ceiling. The seconds ticked by.
“Do you—do you think he really would’ve shot me?” You asked, finally.
“I don’t know,” Tim admitted. “He clearly thought you guys had unfinished business. But guys like that get high on fear—on desperation. He couldn’t have that if you were dead. In his mind, he’d be losing his power over you.”
He paused.
“Besides, I don’t think he would’ve gotten the chance,” Tim said. “He clearly underestimated the badass-ness of his opponent.”
You snorted. “Did you just say ‘badass-ness’?”
“It’s a word!” Tim defended.
You laughed, turning over on your side.
“But seriously, if you ever need anything, you can always talk to me,” Tim said, sounding earnest. “I mean it.”
“I may just take you up on that,” you responded. “Do you tell that to all your rookies?”
You could barely make out Tim’s frame in the dark. “No, not all of them.”
“I’m going to take that as I’m special,” you said.
Your next words were out of your mouth before you could stop them.
“You know, Lopez and Bishop had this crazy idea that you had feelings for me,” you said, staring up at the ceiling. “But I told them it was just that—crazy.”
Tim didn’t speak.
“It is crazy right?” You asked. You had to know. He still was silent. “Right?”
“Boot, look—” Bradford started. His voice came out rough, as if he hadn’t talked in days. Your heartbeat was a deafening roar in your ears.
“Tim?”
You could hear more than see Tim’s movements. He stood, pacing the length of the room. Sat back down. Stood up again. Sat.
“Dammit, Boot, I can’t do this,” he finished. “I can’t do this right now, (Y/n).”
Your pulse quickened. He hadn’t denied it.
You stood up.
And maybe it was having to deny your attraction to your TO for seven months. Maybe it was the adrenaline still coursing through your veins from the attack earlier. Maybe it was because the darkness felt safe and secret—made you feel like you could do anything. Maybe you were just too eager after his small encouragement—or, lack of discouragement.
But, whatever the reason, you walked over to where Tim sat, kneeled down, looked into his confused, strained eyes, and kissed him.
Tim froze, his lips still against yours. And then, almost as if he was afraid you would vanish or startle, he placed his hand gingerly on your waist, and leaned into the kiss.
And he was kissing you back. Tim Bradford was kissing you back.
His free hand went to your hair, deepening the kiss as he gripped you closer. He kissed you like he had been waiting a lifetime.
It was desperate and raw and passionate—it was perfect.
You broke apart, both gasping for breath.
“Listen, Boot,” Tim started. You watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “You’ve had a long and confusing day—”
You interrupted him. “Yeah. Yeah, I have. But I’m not confused about this.”
You brought your lips to his again. This time he didn’t hold back. He pulled you closer to him and you felt the warmth of him through his shirt.
When you came apart again, he was smiling.
“Well, I guess I can check thinking that you hate me off my daily checklist,” you whispered.
“I don’t hate you, Boot,” Tim said. “I actually hate how much I don’t hate you.”
You studied the planes of his face, the light from the hallway illuminating his eyes. His lips. His jawline.
“Boot—”
“If you’re going to say that this is a bad idea, I don’t want to hear it. Not tonight,” you said.
“I thought that was obvious.” Tim stated matter-of-factly. “I was going to say actually I’d appreciate it if you did turn on a lamp or something, because—”
You laughed, kissing him again.
“But seriously,” Tim continued. “You know we can’t do this.”
“Why not?” You pouted. “If it’s what we both want.”
“It’s not about what we want—we could be putting both of our careers in jeopardy.”
You knew he was right. Of course he was right.
“But is it—what you want?”
“God yes,” Tim blurted, standing up, his voice strained. “It’s what I’ve wanted from the moment I started training you. Do you know how hard it’s been trying to put distance between us and deny every damn thing when all I wanted to do was—”
He broke off, running a hand along his hair.
“Then do it.” Your heart pounded in your chest. “You’ll only be my TO for a few more months, we’ll just keep it a secret until then. No one has to know.”
Tim looked at you.
“Ok you’re right, Bishop and Lopez will totally know something’s up,” you admitted.
“I guess I’ll just have to transfer,” Tim joked.
“What happened to ‘Tim Bradford finished what he starts’?” You asked.
“Oh I intend to do just that,” Tim whispered. “Are we really thinking about doing this?”
You thought about the consequences you could face—Tim could face—if it got out that you and your training officer were romantically involved. You knew it would be a huge risk—one that could get you cut from the program.
You looked at Tim. He was watching you like he never wanted to let you go again. You thought about how long you’d wanted this, even if you didn’t fully know it until tonight.
And the decision seemed clear.
“Yeah,” you beamed. “Yeah I think we are.”
He cupped your face in his hand, his fingers warm against the back of your neck. Your eyes closed against his touch. You felt comfort for the first time in hours.
“You need rest,” Tim whispered and your eyes fluttered open. “As much as I’d love to do this all night.”
You nodded, backing up towards your bed. Tim ran a hand through his hair again and then sat back down in the armchair.
“What’re you doing?” You asked him.
“Going to bed,” Tim answered, as if it was obvious.
“Get over here,” you gestured, rolling your eyes at him.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Tim smiled.
You climbed into bed beside him, pulling the covers over both of you.
You lay your head on Bradfords chest. You could feel his heartbeat in your ear as you closed your eyes.
“You know, this will kind of be like doing undercover work—minus the threat of getting killed,” you said.
“I don’t know about that—I wouldn’t put anything past an angry Sergeant Grey.”
“We’ll just have to be so in-character that we never find out,” you said.
“I’ll make sure to be extra tough on you next shift,” Tim agreed.
“And that’s different from any other day how?” You shot back, sitting up.
“Hey, training rookies is a sacred duty and I take that very seriously. If you think I’m going to throw your education out the window simply because—”
You shut him up by pressing your lips to his. You echoed his earlier words. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Tim shook is head slightly, eyes roaming over your face.
“What?” You asked.
“You’re so beautiful, (Y/n),” Tim breathed. “I’m so glad I can finally tell you that.”
“Me too,” you said. “Even if it took…this for it to happen.”
“Speaking of which, maybe I’ll take a sick day tomorrow,” Tim said. “Since there’s no way Grey—or myself—is letting you go to work. What’d you say?”
You wanted to fight him, say you were fine and you could make it to your shift the next day. But the promise of taking a sick day with Tim was to tempting to pass up.
“I say I’m glad your house is being repainted,” you teased. “Because then you’ll have to stay with me.”
Tim smiled knowingly. “My house isn’t being repainted, Boot. And I’m all yours.”
You grinned, laying back down and resting your head back against Tim. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder.
You felt safe, protected in his arms.
The rest would come. Dealing with what had happened tonight. Starting your secret relationship with Tim. Eventually facing everyone at work who had heard the news and would want to ask if you were ok. And you would be ok.
But for now, this was enough. He was enough.
“Tim?” You whispered.
“Hmm?”
You struggled for words to fit the gravity of what you were feeling for him. “Thanks for…everything.”
“What are TOs for,” Tim shrugged.
“Apparently keeping the night light business afloat.” You giggled at the look on Bradford’s face.
“Shut it, Boot.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope you enjoyed loves!! i’m so down bad for tim it’s not even funny 😵💫
#tim bradford#tim bradford x reader#the rookie#the rookie x reader#tim bradford x you#tim bradford x y/n#fanfiction#fanfic#reader insert#x reader#tim bradford x rookie!reader#eric winter#eric winter x reader
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First things first. I love your writings. Especially the ex-husband ones❤
Two I hope you don't mind me requesting a ex-husband geto?
-🌼
Ex husband Geto
A/N: Ohhh you ATE with this idea I’m getting butterflies just thinking about it 😫 Happy late valentines my loves!! 🫶🏽💗
Ex husband Geto is a terrifying blend of ex husband Gojo and Nanami’s worst traits. He is extremely unhinged like his white haired best friend but good at playing nice guy like Nanami.
He’s ‘respectful’. Always paying a sum of money to spend on yourself as well as child support, always bringing chocolates when visiting, always insisting to stay over and help out with your daughter when you’re on your period (he knows your cycle because he refuses to log out of your Flo partners account from back when you were married hehe), and he does it all with a small smile on his face.
He loves his precious baby daughter so much! She inherited his dark hair but your enchanting eyes and smile. His eyes soften at the way she giggles just like you when he presses kisses to her rosy cheeks. His little girl loves playing with her dad’s long black hair. He was born to be a girl dad.
However Geto still struggles with boundaries. You try to shake it off when his fingers touch your waist or when he ‘accidentally’ still calls you sweetheart. “sorry bad habits” he dry chuckles. He’s admitted he’s struggling to get over his feelings for you so you try to be nice about it.
But what you can’t shake off is the way he always happens to know where you are, or he always happens to turn up just before a date, or the way he always whispers a question to your daughter when you leave the room.
Geto’s fixation with you definitely makes his own mental wellbeing spiral, but this man is self aware, this man knows the effect you have on him since the day you left.
So if you ever had the audacity to break his heart and see another man behind his back, it’s over for you.
You’ll be confused when you hear the doorbell ring at 11 in the night. Once you spot the familiar black Bugatti, you open the door, “Geto? The kids are at my moms so-“
“And why’s that y/n?” he cuts you off, his chilling voice suddenly calling you by your actual name rather than sweetheart, as he barges into the house and towers over you, black stands of his hair falling forward.
“You just throw your daughter away to go on dates?” He accuses you and the change from his usual gentleman demeanour unsettles you as his dark eyes burn into you.
“W- what are you talking about? I’m allowed to go on dates and take my daughter to her nans Geto! And how did you know I-“
“You knew-“ he seethes as he inches closer to your face. “You knew I’m struggling to get over you but I’ve been so nice to you and this is how you thank me?”
Some part of your subconscious knows you don’t owe him anything but the rest of you wants to give in. You gulp down your nerves but it was futile in front of a man who could easily have his way with you.
You take a deep breath before beginning, “listen Geto, I’m sorry.. I didn’t mean to hurt you, that’s the last thing I want.” Is it?
“Don’t let it happen again” he says in a voice that is so soft, contradicting his threatening words. But you know best not to take it lightly.
See that’s the thing with ex husband Geto, he lures you in with his sweetness so well, you become too scared to get on his bad side, you always want the good side.
You watch him place a bouquet of Japanese pink camelia flowers on the table, making your eyes widen. “Geto-“
“I came here to give you some flowers for valentines” he explains quietly, “all I wanted was to show you my feelings are sincere whether we’re married or not” he guilt trips you and you know you’re falling for it when he towers over you and holds your face in his large hands. You always do when it came to your beloved ex husband.
So you’re complicit when you picks you up and places you on the sofa, his large hands move to your thighs, groping and kissing them, chuckling when you gasp at his fingers fiddling with the lining of your underwear.
“I know you just needed some love sweetheart, but you don’t have to go to other men, that’s what I’m here for” he convinced you as he ties up his long black hair but his eyes are still interlocked with yours.
And that’s how you always end up getting fucked by your psycho ex husband. Legs dangling in the air as you scream while he gets all the right spots with that skilful tongue of this.
Pink camellia flowers (aka/ tsubaki) are known to express a deep romantic longing and persistent desire.
#geto x y/n#geto suguru x you#geto x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk geto x reader#jjk geto suguru#jjk geto#geto suguru x y/n#geto suguru x reader#geto x you#jjk geto smut#jjk getou#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk fluff#jjk smut#jjk headcanons#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk hcs#jujutsu kaisen geto#geto smut#geto suguru#geto fluff#Geto
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🌃 | the 2 a.m touch . . .
pairing: kenji sato x fem!reader
words: 5202
synopsis: it was supposed to be a fun night out on the town with your best friend Akami, until you bumped into your ex-husband, Kenji Sato. That night would turn out to be an unforgettable experience, for both of you.
author's note: this fic is intended for mature audiences, as it contains descriptions of sexual nature.
These past months have been rough. An empty house and an abrupt divorce all at once. You always thought what Kenji and you had was forever but...you were wrong!
There was no cheating, nothing like that, just a chaotic schedule, which led to a painful distance between you two. You loved Kenji, Emi and Professor Sato so much and couldn't fathom the idea of coming back to a quiet house every time you arrived from work, it was lonely and somewhat depressing.
If it weren't for your friend Akami's wonderful help, you would be melting into the couch by now, watching trashy reality TV shows, romantic comedies and eating all kinds of unhealthy foods. Akami knew you were better than that and, after much begging, convinced you to leave the house for the night.
You girls agreed she would come pick you up at 11 p.m, you thought it was late, as you had become accustomed to a more "homebody" and monotonous routine, now that you were living all by yourself. However, when considered an expert when it came to Japan's night life, Akami assured you that patrons would only start showing up at midnight. You could definitely feel her excitement, as her onyx colored eyes sparkled, probably as she remembered some of her adventures in one of the infamous nightclubs.
As 11 p.m rolls around, the sound of your unused louboutin so kate pumps "click-clacking" became the only sound echoing throughout the long and well decorated corridor. At the far end, a large mirror allows you to see how your outfit looks like for the night. The reflection shown on the large mirror positioned in the middle of the corridor, shows you wearing a black open back mini dress, hugging your curves in all the right places, showing off your back as the fabric of the dress drips down beautifully on your body. Your black tights accentuate the muscles on your legs, giving you a lengthening effect all around.
You take a deep breath as you're gathering up your thoughts, for some odd reason, you feel nervous about going out after so long! It feels nerve-wracking to face the world, after your whole world left. The dim lights around the house create a nostalgic feeling, making you thrift away...not for long, as Akami arrives, ringing on the bell!
Walking towards the door, you feel the nervousness, once wanting to possess your body, slowly leaving, as Akami covers her mouth looking you up and down.
"You look so freaking good [name]!!!" She gasps, admiring every inch of your body. As long as she can remember, Akami never saw you so dressed up.
"Thank...thank you so much dear! You look amazing as well" You stutter, feeling sort of embarrassed. Akami always knew how to calm you down, whether was shoving strawberry daiquiris down your throat or hyping you up. You couldn't have asked for a better best friend.
"Oh this little number? It's just an old thing I had in my closet!" She twirled, making you almost die laughing. At this point, your anxiety was long gone, thanks to her unique sense of humor.
"Well, we don't want that little number to go to waste! Let's get going?" You grabbed your small clutch, double-checking if all your essentials were inside: wallet, house keys, lipstick and your phone.
Before heading out, you and Akami gave one last glance in the mirror, taking some pics to remember the moment in a near future. Both of you smiled, satisfied with how hot you girls looked. As you open the front door, a familiar night breeze greats you. Akami follows the lead to her fuchsia car, opening it right away and signing for you to enter. Your night was just getting started...
You and Akami, walking through the busy streets of Shibuya, both of you filled with excitement and anticipation for your night out. Different music playing every direction you turn to, just loud enough to sing along without being heard. The air is warm, because of the amount of people that start gathering around the both of you, rushing into the nightclubs. The breeze, flowing through pleasantly, makes your hair look a bit tousled.
You notice Akami is scrolling through her phone, checking out the latest updates and making sure you girls have the details of the best venues.
"I heard this new place has the best rooftop view in the city." She says, gazing up at this colorful building. This nightclub was illuminated with vibrant neon lights that danced and pulsated in sync with the beat of the music emanating from within.
Both of you share an excited glance, your faces glowing with anticipation and the reflected colors from the lights. Above you, the starry sky almost seems to be part of the nightclub, adding a touch of magic.
"Wow! We need to go there Akami, let's go!" Your excitement made your friend smile, it was like seeing a little girl inside a plush store after being told she can get whatever she wants! It was like something clicked for you and that was noticeable as Akami felt her arm being intertwined with yours.
You girls get close to the building and the intensity of the music, as well as the volume, goes up. At this point, it's getting difficult for you to listen to anything Akami tells you. The bass from the music makes the walls shake, creating a palpable energy in the air. The line is long, but that doesn't seem to discourage your spirits.
You girls finally step inside, the vibrant lights, pulsating beats, and packed dance floor greet you. You squeeze each other's hands, your eyes wide with expectation, ready to dive into an unforgettable night of dancing and fun.
The bar area was full of people, you could see some girls flirting with guys to get them to pay for their drinks. All of them dressed up to the nines, their dresses reflecting the club's neon lights, making them the center of attention. Bartenders dancing at the same time as they're pouring the requested drinks in the respective glasses, hyping each other up while some of them perform tricks with bottles and cocktail shakers.
After dancing for a while, you two headed to the bar, ordering your favorite drinks. Akami was thirsty for a classic negroni, while you chose a daiquiri. She lead the way to a cozy spot near the dance floor where you could see the DJ and feel the energy of the crowd.
The night was off to a perfect start. The vibe was right, people were dancing and you two were gossiping about college classmates. The world was yours, oblivious to the time passing by.
Just as you were about to order another round of drinks for the both of you, Akami noticed security guard in front of the elevator leading to the highest point of the building. You girls couldn't wait to see the city from such an iconic standpoint. As you get close to the elevator door, the security guard gets in front of both of you, blocking the passage.
"The usage of this elevator is destined to VIP patrons only." He crosses his arms, looking twice as buff. Akami looks at the guard up and up, gathering some information about him, as a way to bribe your way into the elevator.
"Oh! Come on! I can see you're a pretty reasonable man, two more women up there won't make a difference!" Her arm slides from his shoulder down to his bicep, squeezing it a little bit. He frowns, pushing his glasses up with the help of his index finger.
"Doll, you can't seduce your way up there. I told you how it is, now go!" The sad expression from both Akami and you seemed to soften up the security guard, who removed the rope stationed in front of the elevator. A glimpse of hope plastered of both of your faces.
"Go on...it's their fault they hired a softie for a security guard either way." Akami doesn't resist to glue her mouth to his cheek, holding your hand right away, guiding you towards the elevator. Excitement fills both your bodies and as you reach the top, you notice a difference type of music, much more refined...matching of the type of clients the highest point of the building hosts.
As the elevator door opens, the ambience feels much more professional and lighter. In the distance, you and Akami, see a group of women opening bottles of champagne, sitting on the laps of seemingly powerful men. You feel yourself freeze, you hand becoming automatically frozen.
"[name]?? What happened? Are you feeling ok?" Akami's worried tone wakes you up from whatever is happening, your gaze looking at a distance still caughts her attention. She follows the direction you're looking at, freezing as well. The sight completely shocked both of you, seeing your ex-husband, Kenji Sato, entertaining advances from women, letting them sit on his lap...it was something you thought you'd never see.
You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes, but you blinked them away, unwilling to let your emotions get the best of you in such a public setting. You forced a smile, but it didn't reach your eyes, as they didn't match with the forced smile leaving your lips.
"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just...seeing him like that. Looks like he moved on really quick." The shock Akami was feeling became rage, almost disgust. She had never seen Kenji have such a cocky and "player" attitude, he was always a gentleman. That was shocking to see, for both of you girls.
"We can leave, if you want!" You look at Akami, pouting your lips. You were feeling conflicted as one part of you was screaming for you to get out of there and the other one was trying to calm down and see some sort of positive side.
Checking your phone and saw that it was 1:30 a.m. The bright screen contrasted with the dim, flashing lights of the nightclub, making you squint for a moment. It was time to call it a night. As much as you were enjoying your night out, the "homebody" in you was begging to come out, and after what you saw...it was definitely time to get going.
"I can call an Uber, you can stay if you want Akami, I don't want to ruin your night." She lifts an eyebrow, showing to you how ridiculous that idea was. No way she was going to let you get home all by yourself.
"Of course not!! I'll get you home, let's go." You smile, reminding yourself how lucky you were by having such an amazing friend. As you walked into the elevator, a shout came from behind, too late for you to stop and see. But that voice, hiw could you not be able to recognize that voice...
"[NAME]...WAIT!" The elevator doors close. Akami looks at you, as if she's asking you mentally if you want to wait up for him. You deny, giving her the confirmation she needs to get you out that nightclub. Both of you, walking up to her fuchsia car, look back at the night and despite what happened, you smile at each other...remembering how much you danced and drinked.
"Are you sure you don't want me to stay?" She asks, reassuring her support towards you.
"Thank you so much, but my couch is calling me...reality shows look promising right now." Your soft giggle makes Akemi giggle as well. You girls hug, say your goodbyes, sharing supportive words between each other.
You entered your dimly lit house, the weight of the night pressing down on your shoulders. Your high heels clicked softly on the light wooden floor as you put your clutch on top of the kitchen counter. You glanced in the mirror in the middle of the corridor, your makeup slightly smudged and your eyes showing off a mix of fatigue, lingering frustration and sadness.
Seeing Kenji with those girls at the club, so carefree, laughing and flirting as if your past together never existed. You somewhat managed to keep your composure in front of Akami, masking your emotions with a forced smile, but now, alone in your house, the facade crumbled.
You melted into the couch, both your thoughts and heart racing. The sight of Kenji with all those girls had stirred a lot of emotions—anger, hurt, a touch of jealousy—you couldn't deny you still loved him.
Needing a distraction, you went over to Netflix, the familiar chaos of a trashy reality show filling the room. Heading to the kitchen, you grab a bag of chips and some candy, returning to couch, and making yourself comfortable. The bright, artificial lights and over-the-top drama provided the perfect escape. You crunched away as the contestants bickered and had some arguments.
A knock on the door scared you. Looking at the clock, you noted it was well past 2 a.m. You thought it could be Akami, dropping by unannounced, for a surprise sleepover. Without a second thought, you got up and swung the door open.
But instead of your friend's familiar face, there stood your ex-husband, Kenji Sato. His presence was a total surprise for you, he was the last person you thought would show up, especially at that time of the night. You blinked in surprise, the shock momentarily stealing your ability to formulate a sentence. His expression was a mix of regret and somewhat unreadable, a look you hadn’t seen in a long time.
"Ken...Kenji? What are you doing here?" Your stuttered speech showed how surprised you were. Not being able to form a sentence, your mind was empty, almost frozen.
"You need to hear what I have to say! Please." His apologetic voice felt like a million needles stabbing into your body. For some reason, you could tell he was regretting what he did.
"Well...Come in, don't stand there in the cold." Your voice sounded inviting, you moved your body, giving Kenji a way for him to enter the house. Your reaction made him feel immediately much better. By accepting to hear what he had to say, it meant acceptance and understanding, your love languages.
As you close the door in front of you, Kenji can't help to admire your body and how beautiful you looked wearing that dress and those heels. As you turned around, you encounter a Kenji Sato, some inches of distance from you, involuntarily pinning you against the front door.
"Kenji? Are you okay?" Your heart was racing, that was noticeable by the shaking waves of your voice. The proximity of Kenji's body, his cologne still familiar to your nose, filled you with a rush of conflicting emotions.
"I'm sorry for what I did, I miss you so much." His scent was filling up your nose, making you crazy. As the dim light hit his eyes, you could see the desire filling them up.
Your breath quickened, a mixture of nerves and flickering in your eyes. You clench your fists at your sides, trying to muster the strength to have an attitude.
"What do you want?" You sound demanding, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside your body.
"Do you honestly think I enjoy hurting you? Hurting you, hurts me as well." You pause, processing the weight of Kenji's words. You feel your expression shift from demand to vulnerability, revealing a mix of confusion and sorrow. You feel sincerity in his words.
Your hands, almost like a spell, are guided to his face, embracing it in between yours and forcing eye contact. Your teary eyes meet his teary eyes, so many emotions travel unannounced, rushing through each other's bodies. You feel unable to say anything, decide it's best to answer with something different than a sentence.
You gently cradle Kenji's face in between your hands, fingertips softly brushing his cheeks. Your eyes meet, a moment of quiet connection before you lean in. Your lips meet his softly, the kiss tender and lingering. It's a sweet, intimate moment, filled with warmth as both of you savor the softness of each other's lips, your thumbs gently stroking Kenji's skin. The world fades away for the both of you.
"I missed you so much...you have no idea how much" Kenji mutters between the kiss, smiling and placing his hands on top of yours, stroking gentle circles on top of your hands.
"You make me feel all kinds of ways, I can't get enough of you" As you say this, he picks you up, holding onto your butt, making you blush.
"Can't stop thinking about you, kissing you, touching you...I need it...I need it desperately." Your heavy breathing, fast heartbeat and flushed cheeks show Kenji how are you're feeling about the situation. Your hands, wrapped up his neck make him feel deeper in love and your legs, wrapped around his waist, making any space between you, as small as possible.
"I want you...and only you, make me moan your name for the night Kenji...please!" Your request sounded needy, almost desperate. Kenji smiles, walking through the corridor, holding you carefully and leaving a trail of kisses from your cheeks down to your neck.
Reaching the bedroom, Kenji gently nudges the door open with his foot, the hinges giving a soft creak. The room is warmly lit, the glow from a bedside lamp. Kenji steps inside, the plush carpet muffling the footsteps. Carefully, he lays you down on the neatly made bed, smoothing a stray hair from your face. The room is peaceful, with a light breeze drifting in through an open window, rustling the curtains. He pauses for a moment, looking down at you with a caring expression. He places each one of his hands on each side of your shoulders as you bring him closer by pulling on his gold chain with your index finger. The warm glow from your bedside lamp reflects on your eyes, revealing some gold flakes in your gaze.
"You look so mesmerizing underneath me, it's a sight from heaven."
Kenji sees your cheeks become a dusted shade of red as he compliments the position you're in. He went crazy imagining everything you guys used to do when you were married, despite the distance throughout the years, he always felt immensely attracted to you and your character.
"Can I please undress you? I want to see you in your most natural state" You nod positively at the question, giving your full consent to Kenji.
With a gentle and attentive touch, Kenji begins to remove your dress, his movements, careful and deliberate. He unclasps the fastenings, sliding the fabric down your shoulders. The dress glides smoothly down, pooling softly on top of the carpet. He takes care not to disturb your serene expression, his actions filled with a tender intention. The room remains quiet, the only sound being the faint rustle of fabric and the steady rhythm of both of your breathing. Your perky nipples, previously stimulated by the soft fabric of the black dress you had worn during the night, caught Kenji's attention making him smile as he notices how sensitive your body is when stimulated.
"I will show you how much I praise your body and your mind." Kenji whispers, voice full of desire, gluing his lips to your neck, making sure the entire surface is given the deserved attention. You intertwine your fingers through his jet black hair, feeling a heatwave hit you between your legs.
"You...you make...my love grow deeper each minute." Your whimpers come out soft and weak, mentally you're counting the kisses Kenji is distributing throughout your neck and breasts. You feel your hole pulsating with intense heat, all the care and attention from Kenji was driving you crazy.
"Let those cute moans flow from that pretty mouth of yours, sweetheart." He circles around your nipples, one at a time, pushing at each of them softly, what made you squirm underneath him. He shivered at the sight of you moaning his name, it had been so long he didn't hear those amazing sounds come out your mouth.
"I...I need you...Oh my God..." You face other direction, pressing your lips together and biting your bottom one right away. Your nipples, now more sensitive than ever, seem to be pulsating with each interaction Kenji has with them.
The warmth of the bedroom paired with the increasing warmth of your body was driving you wild, Kenji knew how sensitive you were to all the stimulation and foreplay. He loved to see you squirm and purr in pleasure as you begged to have him inside you.
"You feel good, don't you? Don't worry! You will have me, soon...be patient, doll." Kenji's hand travels from your tummy to the silky fabric covering your vulva, pushing your panties aside you gasp feeling his fingers in contact with your pulsating clitoris. Your first instinct is to hold Kenji's wrist, guided by desire. You're starting to feel drunk by all the arousal, it's undeniable.
"Wow...look how ready you are for me...you're such a naughty little girl, aren't you!" His voice melts in your ears like honey, Kenji's deep husky voice makes you tremble, it's inevitable to feel that horny.
"I...I want you to...to pour all your love...on me..." Your request made Kenji smile from ear to ear, it was just what he needed, better than a "yes" when asking for consent. Having the woman of his life, practically begging him to have her was too much for Kenji. He needed you, and he needed you now.
"I'm such a sucker for you, my love." Kenji gets up, positioned in between your legs, as you're waiting for Kenji to start filling your body with immense pleasure.
As Kenji unbelts his jeans, you notice a huge volume on his pants, making it noticeable he was just as ready as you. You still remembered how his cock looked like and how big it was, but after so much time without having sex, you were scared it would hurt, like a first time would.
The pants, now down to his knees, were quickly removed, being tossed to a forgotten corner of the bedroom. Kenji's bulge left you frightened and speechless, you could swear you saw his cock pulsate underneath his boxers! When he removed his boxers, your face could not demonstrate more shock than it did! Kenji's deep laugh woke you up to reality.
"We'll take it slow, baby girl! I don't want to hurt you." You nodded, looking at Kenji's face. You sat on the bed and as he came closer, you'd change your sight between Kenji and his member, gulping in utter disbelief.
Kenji stopped in front of you, his dick inches away from your face. He was enjoying seeing your surprised expression, smiling at every gulp you'd do. Kenji puts his fingers on your chin, making you lift your head to face him, you looked so cute and small when looking up to meet his eyes.
As a reflex, you opened your mouth putting your tongue out, while your hands started caressing the entire extension of his erect penis. Kenji grunts, biting his lip and closing his eyes, feeling your soft hands touch his dick. You can't help but to lick the tip, covered in precum because of the sensual foreplay that happened before. You're determined to put his cock in your mouth, and slowly, as you're holding onto his thighs for some stability, you start pushing your mouth against his veiny dick, feeling your eyes get teary eyed as you feel like his member is about to rip your mouth from ear to ear.
"Fu...fuck..look at my pretty girl...taking me so well...Oh God..." As you get the hang of it, you're feeling much more confident about what you're doing. Kenji puts your hair into a ponytail, giving him some way to control you if he desires to.
"Let me look at you while I'm taking over that pretty mouth of yours...Mhmm...you're...so good..." His praises only motivate you to keep going, you wouldn't stop until he came in your mouth or whenever he wanted. As you're sucking him off, you can't resist to start masturbating yourself, all that heat is going to be the death of you. It's not until he hears you moan while sucking him off that he realizes that you're pleasuring yourself, and that makes him go feral.
Kenji faces the ceiling, his lips parted slightly show you he's going to climax at any point, announced or unannounced. He starts moving his hips against you, making you feel his cock go deeper in your throat, forcing you to gag a few times.
"Don't stop. Oh...Oh God...Whatever you do, please I beg you, don't stop." Kenji requested and you obeyed, wishing for his orgasm to fill your mouth.
His climax was intense, without warning. It filled your mouth so much your cheeks looked like the ones of a chipmunk when it's collecting nuts...well...you could consider yourself a chipmunk collecting all of Kenji's nuts.
"Swallow, baby! Good girl, you look so hot with my cum in your mouth." You did as being told, smiling satisfied right after.
In a rapid move, Kenji makes you stand up while still holding your hair in a ponytail, giving you a passionate kiss. You were loving every second of this, the kiss was passionate but needy, oh so needy, making you grasp for hair a few times.
When you noticed, both of you were on the bed, Kenji was on top getting an assertive position between your legs. The warmth coming out from your cunt felt almost felt palpable, it was touch deprived and needed attention immediately.
"Would you look at that...this pussy of yours wants some attention." As Kenji is positioned in between your legs, he starts rubbing his cock on your slit, rubbing the tip on your clit a few times, making your purr.
"Please...I beg of you...Kenji please..." You say in between cries and moans, making him smirk as he sees the affect he has on you.
"Shhh...you're so impatient" He says, laying a gentle kiss on your lips — "It'll only hurt for a minute...I promise, baby" — As he pushes his cock, inch by inch inside you, you can't help to strongly close your eyes and let out a loud scream, a surprised one. You felt overwhelmed as your eyes were getting filled with involuntary tears. Kenji's first instinct when seeing you, was to hold hands, intertwining your fingers to show you he was there for you.
"Shh...it's almost in...bear with it a little longer...so proud of you, love" He said, in between caring kisses, Kenji could see you were struggling a little bit taking his cock but you were doing so well, he was so proud of his pretty girl.
As his manhood was all inside, and his delicate movements, all the pain you felt would eventually turn into pleasure.
"Jiji...You...feel so good...inside me." With the help of your hips, moving in circles, and Kenji's soft hip thrusts, you and Kenji were in perfect unison. Your moans, mixed with his created the most beautiful melody, a melody the two of you would never forget.
"You're doing so good, doll face...look at you...taking me so well..." While one of Kenji's hands remains holding your hand, he decides to hold your face with his other hand, sliding his thumb inside your mouth. The vibrations of your moans are now kept for his thumb to feel. Your hair, all messed up and your teary eyes, now dried, are a sight he would no longer live without.
"I've never seen someone this breathtakingly beautiful before...I love the sounds leaving your mouth..." Kenji was going into a frenzy, you opened your mouth sticking your tongue out as his thumb remained on top of your tongue. The eye contact between you two was unbelievable, almost animalistic. You were concentrated on Kenji until something else make you lose focus. He had hit your g-spot, making you salivate and let out and uncontrollable loud stutter.
"OH my God, do that again..please Jiji..please do that again" You sounded desperate, like a cat in heat. As he tried to find out what your request was, he continued moving, hitting your g-spot three times in a row, in between strokes, making you arch your back and firmly hold his hand.
"Mhmm...oh..oh my God...that feels...so good." You roll your eyes, biting your lip as hard as you can. Whatever Kenji was doing, he was doing it right, and best of all, he was seeing as you looked at him, pupils dilating...your eyes were almost turning you into a predator, the way they were full of an intense gazing. Kenji was mesmerized.
"You like this, hm...?" You nod, at this point your ears are buzzing and you can swear your heart is beating as fast as some F1 race cars. As Kenji is hitting your sensitive point, you feel your pussy tighten around his cock, making him lower his voice and smirk.
"I'm gonna...I'm..gonna come...please, don't stop, Jiji..please." You pull him closer by his chain, kissing him passionately. Your nails, digging on his back make Kenji cuss in the middle of the kiss.
"Come for me...be a good girl and come for me, my love." Your hip thrusting against Kenji only makes him feel his climax arriving as well — "Fuck...I'm gonna come as well baby..." — he muttered, out of breath, as you increased the hip thrusting movements, desperate to come.
"Let's come together, Kenji." You held his hand, kissing it, before intertwining your fingers. Your pussy for hungry for Kenji's manhood and his cock was hungry for your cunt. You guys weren't going to be able to hold it for much longer.
"Inside or outside, doll?" He was almost reaching his orgasm, he needed your consent before he did something you weren't comfortable with.
"Pleeease...come inside me Jiji..please.." Your broken voice was low, had a sexier tone to it.
In a moment of shared intimacy and desire, you and Kenji end up sharing an profound connection as both of your bodies synchronize in rhythm and pleasure. As you guys approach the climax, your breathing becomes more rapid and irregular, and Kenji's muscles tense in anticipation. The sensation builds, waves of uncontrollably strong pleasure radiating through each other's bodies, culminating in a peak of intense, mutual release.
Kenji's release mixed with yours, leaves your womanhood extremely satisfied.
"You are perfect, pretty girl. I love you." His warm embrace was everything you needed to fall soundly and peacefully asleep on his arms, mumbling how much you loved him back and how amazing it was...truly an unforgettable experience for both of you.
#ken sato#kenji sato#ultraman#ultraman rising#ken sato x reader#kenji sato x reader#ken sato x you#kenji sato x you#ken sato x fem!reader#kenji sato x fem!reader#soft smut#kenji sato smut#ken sato smut
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>>> TUNES TO LOSE YOUR MIND TO <<<
KEEP IN MIND: This is a living playlist! Songs may be added and removed at times to further curate the vibe I'm going for. I'll try to keep this post updated, but you can just check out the link for an up-to-date track list.
(EDIT: Song discussions are not finished! I have a lot more to say. I'll reblog when I've updated.)
This is set in a sort of nebulous time between Harry's life right before Martinaise and the night before he lost his memory. I wanted this playlist to feel erratic-- full of manic energy one second, then slow and bleak the next, dreamy, unreal, then right back to ridiculous.
(In no particular order. Shuffle for full emotional whiplash effect.)
I Don't Like My Mind - Mitski
I don't like my mind, I don't like being left alone in a room [...] And then I get sick and throw up and there's another memory that gets stuck / Inside the walls of my skull waiting for its turn to talk / And it may be a few years, but you can bet it's there, waiting still
The days before cleaning out the rooms... also, eating an entire cake and throwing it all up again feels very harry-esque... Overindulgence
A whole cake, so please don't take / Take this job from me
End Of The World - Hether
I mean, I could just post the entire set of lyrics as evidence, tbh. Struggling to find meaning and purpose in his life in the wake of heartbreak (5 year old heartbreak, but who's counting anyway)
I wake up in the morning and I wonder / Why everything's the same as it was I can't understand / No I can't understand / How life goes on the way it does
Cane Shuga - Glass Animals
Baby, don't go / I'll stop breathing coke / No more bloody nose / No more John Does Burn through my love / Just like your drugs / I've had quite enough / Or lack thereof
This is about the last moments of Harry and Dora's relationship to me. The chorus (a kind of circular, endless, self-aggrandizing internal monologue likely fueled by stimulants, implied in the song) continuing after the second verse kind of reflects the solution for Lonesome Long Way Home.
"11 Voyager Road. You no longer live there. Those times are gone, and so are those people. Why did you come here? Why are you still here? And where’s the dealer? You have to get back to work. That’s all you have now."
Hot Venom - Miniature Tigers
Hot venom is mixing with my blood / I can feel it on my fingers and taste it on her tongue / It feels so good to fall in love with you
I've heard a lot of people say this song is about heroin addiction, which is thematically appropriate for this playlist, but also. Harry's unhealthy obsession with Dora/Dolores Dei. Adoration (and hatred) so strong it's killing him.
Her venom makes me strong / Stronger than I am on my own / Before too long, I'll wake up to it gone / Wondering how I ever was happy [...] You can't go back now; that's not how this works / And as long as she's gone, I can never be happy
Who Is She ? - I Monster
This is just straight up about Harry's recurring dream to me. Just. Gestures at the lyrics.
Oh, who is she? / A misty memory / A haunting face / Is she a lost embrace? Am I in love with just a theme? / Or is Ayesha just a dream?
I feel like it falls in line really well with the idea that Harry's mind has been affected by the Pale-- a lack of memory, or maybe mixed memories, in a misty haze beyond the boundaries of reality. (and maybe Dolores Dei has started haunting him via Pale? Like some theories I've read.)
Somewhere across the sea of time / A love immortal such as mine Will come to me / Eternally
I Don't Miss You at All - FINNEAS
Dummy - Portugal. The Man
F the World - The Northern Boys
You Stupid Bitch - Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (TV Show)
These shards are a metaphor for my soul Won't stop the self-pity 'cause I'm on a roll
This song perfectly captures the inherent melodrama of a mental downward spiral imo. Catastrophic and all-encompassing. This is what I think it sounds like in there (Harry's head).
You ruined everything / You stupid bitch / You ruined everything / You stupid, stupid bitch / You're just a lying little bitch who ruins things / And wants the world to burn / Bitch / You're a stupid bitch / And lose some weight
Oleander - Mother Mother
Intermission - Scissor Sisters
Skit #2 - Kanye West
Self explanatory. He's got no money. He's got no clothes. He has no car and he has no hoes.
We broke, broke broke phi broke We ain't got it Broke, broke, broke phi broke We ain't got it Don't spend no money, ain't got no clothes Ain't got no cars, ain't got no hoes
Nobody - Mitski
My God, I'm so lonely, so I open the window To hear sounds of people, to hear sounds of people
This one is more about the feeling of the song itself rather than the lyrics specifically; I love the upbeat tempo that continues through the song (trying to remain steady, continue working), how the beat is simple at first then builds into a kaleidoscope of sound by the end of the track (overwhelmed by the world), then ending in a distorted loop (trapped in a cycle). This song has always felt really authentic to my own experience with mental spirals. The themes of loneliness tie it all into a nice bow.
I'm A Broken Heart - the bird and the bee
Not Allowed - TV Girl
Party Time - The Northern Boys
Comfortably Numb - Scissor Sisters
(Do The) Act Like You Never Met Me - TV Girl
Novocaine For The Soul - Eels
Basket Case - Green Day
Do you have the time / to listen to me whine About nothing and everything all at once? I am one of those melodramatic fools / Neurotic to the bone, no doubt about it
I just think this one fits him well during Martinaise... just shaken up and unloading trauma onto unsuspecting strangers like a can of soda (bad analogy lol), depending on the dialogue you choose.
I went to a shrink to analyze my dreams She says it's lack of sex that's bringing me down I went to a whore, she said my life's a bore So quit my whining 'cause it's bringing her down
Sometimes, I give myself the creeps / Sometimes, my mind plays tricks on me It all keeps adding up / I think I'm cracking up Am I just paranoid, or am I stoned?
Also it's just a little pathetic, which just... it fits. Sorry Harry.
Labyrinth - Miracle Musical
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