#I have 18 pages worth of notes now | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

xomakara · 1 month ago

Text

Ranching Hearts

SUMMARY | You're an overworked accountant with little time for a love life. Desperate for a break, you join your girlfriends on vacation at a dude ranch. Mingi, the handsome ranch owner is instantly attracted to you and vice versa. But Mingi is about to lose the ranch and everything he's worked for. Will you extend your stay to help him out?

PAIRINGS | Mingi x Reader

RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+

GENRE | cowboy!Mingi, overworkedaccountant!Reader, smut, modern Western au, country/ranch life

CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, filthy dirty thoughts, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), fingering, oral sex (both female/male receiving/giving), dirty talk, praise kink, pet names, vaginal penetration, creampies, shower sex, outdoor sex, sexual innuendoes

LENGTH | 16,907 words

TAGLIST | —

NETWORKS | @illusionnet @cromernet @wonderlandnet @k-vanity @othersideoutlawsnetwork. @ksmutsociety

AUTHOR’S NOTE | Hi hello. Thank you @aaagustd for the beautiful banner and thank you @kpopflowerfield for beta reading this! I really appreciate it💚 Show support by liking, commenting and reblogging. Love you all 💚

"Oh come on," Hyemi sighed, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards the van. "This trip won't be the same without you."

"You really need a break, Y/N," Jinhee muttered. "You're so overworked these days, and all that stress can't be healthy."

You pinched the bridge of your nose as the women clamored their agreements. Despite their arguments that it wouldn't be the same, they were all packed, ready to go, and stood around your luggage as you dithered. "Why a dude ranch?"

"Because we needed something in the middle, so everyone could get to it with ease," Bora said. "And we already paid in full, plus I saw some super hot photos of the cowboy who runs it."

“Cowboys? Seriously?” you asked, incredulous.

Jinhee tossed a magazine towards you. A six pack man filled the front page of it, and your brow furrowed at the photo. Something about the set-up felt artificial, and not only because the man was topless. His boots were pristine, not worn out like you expected. Was this guy actually a cowboy?

"Real life cowboys do not look like this," you announced.

“Have you ever met one?” Hyemi asked.

“Yes,” you replied.

"Seriously?" Hyemi leaned on your shoulder to look at the picture again. "You have been holding out on us! Have you—"

“I’m a country girl, did you forget?” you shook your head.

Bora hopped back onto the van, laughing as the other girls got in. "Tell us all the deets on the way there!"

"Oh, and Y/N?" Hyumi smirked and hit the van door twice to make sure you couldn't close it. "I put condoms in your bag, okay?"

"Maybe there's a hot cowboy, looking for someone to ride him instead of a horse." Hyemi cackled. "If you catch my drift."

"Can we please get going? I have no patience to listen to you guys go into a hyena-like laughing fit," you grumbled as your heart began to hammer away. The prospect of meeting a stranger—no, a possible lover was thrilling enough to make the argument to join them seem pointless now. With a sigh, you waved at Hyemi. "No promises, but I will come along and see what the place is like."

A squeal tore through the van and you cringed at the loud sound. As the chatter in the car began again, you couldn't keep the small smile off your face at the thought that maybe your vacation wouldn't suck. Maybe, just maybe, you'd find someone worth coming home to.

The road trip was filled with laughs and lots of chatter. Your fingers had scrolled through hundreds of articles by the time you arrived and pulled up in the long driveway of the ranch. The entrance to the farm was huge; large wooden signs pointed in different directions, denoting different barns, activities, and lodgings. In the distance was a house, which sat behind the largest barn and closest to the river you saw winding around the land. Your eyes widened at the view.

The air seemed purer, crisper, as though nothing from the city could touch such a remote place. Fresh grass coated the fields of the property, a stark difference to the worn and dull roads you passed as your taxi traveled from the main highways and smaller routes before it. Rolling hills gave the feel of being in a separate world; this place was idyllic, a hidden gem in a world of chaos.

Bora beamed, "This is fucking incredible. Look at the river!"

"Do you think people go fishing in it?" Jinhee asked. "Like, for fun?"

Hyemi smiled as she shook her head. "We can ask the man when we check in. Speaking of—" She grabbed the receipt from your hand and headed for the door. You didn't have time to follow or call out for her to stop, as a tall man appeared from the first barn.

His clothes were much different than the ones you'd seen in the photos in the magazine. A plain white shirt was tucked into well-worn and dusty jeans; black hat covered a mop of black hair and equally dark brown eyes looked over you in one sweep.

Your knees buckled when his gaze landed on you; was he as affected by the attraction as you felt? The tension in the air felt suffocating in its heaviness.

He had his hands pushed deep into his pockets as he watched the rest of your party empty from the vehicle and a light chuckle escaped his lips. "Ladies."

Hyemi took a few steps separating the two of you and held out her hand. "Hello, my name is Hyemi. This is our first time staying here. Are you Mingi?"

Mingi?

"Sure am," he drawled as you took in the deepness of his voice and his strong accent. His gaze moved between the four of you. "Is it just y'all here or do more folks drive down?"

"It's just us. But we heard about the dude ranch and it seemed like the perfect destination to escape the city for a bit and see the countryside. Y'know... uhm... horses, cowboys, nature, all that?" Hyemi asked with an eager expression.

A rumble left Mingi's lips as he fought a laugh. "Of course. Well, welcome to Sunflower Ranch. As your hosts, me and the other guys will provide anythin' ya need, be it horses for a trail or drinks and dancin'. We got plenty of stuff goin' on so if y'all would like to follow me, I'll bring y'all to the cabins."

Mingi reached into the van and removed some luggage with practiced ease and with one more glance at your figure, turned and gestured for the group to follow.

Hyemi smacked your shoulder, her voice hushed with awe. "He's checking you out."

Your own voice came out high-pitched and whiny as you walked to follow. "Who, Mingi?"

"Yes, obviously! He didn't give me or the others the same intense eye fuck as you did." Her eyes took a quick assessment. "Damn, maybe I should've bought some more sexy clothes."

Your heart hammered. "Don't you start—ugh, fuck—this whole weekend."

"Maybe we won't have to. Mingi looks like a man who eats pussy like—" Hyemi continued.

“Hyemi!” you scolded.

"Fine, fine. But I'm snagging the first cowboy that looks my way and it better be that hottie with the long luscious hair," Hyemi adjusted her outfit as she eyed a tall man coming your way to help with the luggage. "You can have Mingi. I'm gonna go and milk that tall drink of water and get a good ride while I'm here."

“You are insatiable,” you said, shaking your head.

"Ain't nothing wrong with enjoying yourself and having fun, Y/N. Maybe you should take a leaf out of my book and have a wild side while we're here. Fuck the stress," Hyemi laughed when your brows knit together in a scowl. You picked up the pace, aware of Hyemi giggling like a fool. It's a mystery how that girl managed to attract so many people when she can't keep her dirty little comments to herself.

You'll have to remind Hyemi not to go and make a joke like that in front of the employees of the ranch. The last thing you needed was to offend Mingi in any way or god forbid have her embarrass you further with her words, so you make a mental note and stick your earphones in. Hyemi will have a heyday of pointing out all the beautiful men on the ranch. At this moment, you can't deal.

As you and the others fall in behind Mingi, the closer proximity gives you a good chance to size him up. His large muscular frame was tightly confined in his clothing and damn did those jeans hug him in all the right places. Not a single thing you were complaining about. Your eyes fixed on that plump round behind, the thick muscles of his thighs and it was hard not to notice the long lengths of his legs. The guy was damn well hung. A blush bloomed over your cheeks when a snort of laughter escaped Hyemi.

Caught red handed.

How embarrassing.

"First time to a ranch?" The man with the long luscious hair asked, as he stepped in tune with Mingi. "I'm Seonghwa and I'm one of Mingi's many helpers. There's eight of us, including Mingi, that will be making sure ya ladies are well taken care of while on the premises."

Hyemi spoke first, taking a moment to flutter her long eyelashes. "That's good news, we want all of your help, right Y/N?" She nudges your side with an elbow and you nod slowly, pretending not to notice her sudden attraction for the taller man, which was borderline embarrassing, not to mention desperate.

"Yes," you sigh. Hyemi pressed her body to your arm as her smile deepened. You side eye her, annoyed she was clearly up to mischief.

Seonghwa chuckled, "Whatever the ladies ask. Here we are. Y'all will be in the end cabin."

Mingi pointed the building out, a row of four smaller structures of varying designs and sizes. "There is a bathroom that everyone shares since the one in the main house is being renovated right now. I would suggest you ladies shower in the mornings between seven to nine since the guys are usually in there in the early mornings."

"Noted," Jinhee nodded and clapped her hands.

"Just head on inside and we'll get your things settled," Seonghwa gestured to the open cabin doors and you and your friends began piling inside. The two men deposited your things inside and dusted their hands as they both exchanged nods.

A gasp fell from Jinhee as she took the building in. "Will you look at the lake! This view is incredible."

"Take a swim after dinner? Ladies night." Bora laughed.

"Are y'all interested in fishin'?" Seonghwa asked.

Hyemi smiled, her voice simpering. "Anything you'll teach me."

Your brow knitted as the flirting ensued. How anyone could do that so brazenly was baffling. If only you had such confidence... Then again, Hyemi wasn't one to get too attached. And given the look on Seonghwa's face, that wasn't going to be a problem here.

Once you get into the room you couldn't hold it in. "Damn, you're quick to pick."

"What?" Bora and Jinhee squealed and hurried to watch Hyemi.

“Seonghwa,” you said. “Looks like Hyemi made her choice already.”

"Wow, we are literally five minutes in and you're already throwing yourself at a cowboy," Jinhee laughed.

"Am I a bad girl for wanting to ride him?" Hyemi sighs as she stares out the window, looking for Seonghwa.

"When are you a good girl?" You quipped.

“Never,” Hyemi giggled.

You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair. Hyemi could go for anyone here if she played her cards right. There's no shortage of people, and no shortage of looks on the ranch. "They did mention that there's six more of them running around."

Bora glanced out the window and nodded over to a handsome figure. "I bet he's one of them. Just look at those bulging muscles! Maybe he can throw me on his shoulders."

"He looks like he could pick anyone up and fuck them against the wall," Jinhee added as she stared out the window.

You let out an exasperated sigh. "God, I'm surrounded by a whole bunch of horny women."

The comment earns a laugh as you step outside. A slight breeze lifted the edges of your loose tee and cooled the skin that had already begun to warm beneath the sunlight. Taking a look around, your gaze focused on the large barn. Though it wasn't obvious what it contained, curiosity begged your feet to lead you toward the source of the loud voices and banging noises. As your steps led you close, the distinct sound of hooves caught your attention first.

Following it, the shadow of something massive and alive passed overhead and your gaze slowly tilted upwards. It took a few seconds for the creature to pass your gaze before it hit you. "Horses!"

"Big bastards, ain't they?" a deep voice said from behind you.

Jumping slightly, the soft laughter caught you off-guard and you turned, sheepishly meeting Mingi's gaze. "Sorry! I haven't seen one in years."

"Naw, not a problem, but why the interest?" He stepped in beside you, watching his hand move to adjust his hat. There was no denying the heat swirling inside, seeing this cowboy up close, smelling the mixture of sweat and spicy cologne was one hell of a rush and your head swam as the sensations washed over. Was he this beautiful and tall when you arrived? Maybe. Your head is full of lust filled thoughts, seeing him next to you in the bright midday sun just amplified the attraction tenfold.

Your words sounded faraway, even to your own ears. "Oh, uh... I-I grew up around horses."

"Really?" He tipped his chin and peered beneath the lip of his hat, those big brown eyes piercing and wide in wonder.

A spark flew inside, your stomach suddenly in knots. This guy had a pull, but you weren't sure if it was the charm and attraction or his expression, or the way his head tilted. "Uh, yeah. I grew up on a farm. Been a while, but I used to compete as a teenager."

“And here I thought y’all just came here to have a nice time away from home. Ya sure did surprise me,” Mingi chuckled.

You let out a small laugh. "My friends are city folk. I moved to the city for a job a few years back, but my family... They're all still in the countryside. Guess I missed it, even the early mornings and mucking out stables."

A chuckle rose. "Y'all wanna muck out the stables, just say. We can get it sorted out for ya. Free, too."

The way his dimpled grin warmed as you locked eyes made your cheeks heat up. "Maybe another time, if I'm up for it. Besides, I doubt my friends would enjoy it."

"Or just keep it our lil secret?" he winked.

You found it hard to break your stare away from his eyes. Something behind those pools of dark chocolate seemed to want to tell you something. A sense of ease lingered, you couldn't explain the calm you felt and the desire to be next to Mingi was hard to push away. Your tongue flicked to wet your dry lips and you smiled, "I'm sure we can work something out."

Mingi leaned back against the fence, watching the animals graze lazily in the green pasture. Your gaze followed and took in the other four horses. Some were big, some short with stubby legs. A couple had spots, another was entirely black, and the fourth horse was pure white and looked the biggest. The urge to stroke its neck tugged at you.

"Cute ones you have here," your smile broke the tension.

"Some are mules, and they're in need of some attention." His eyes went to the four mares and a hand came down, resting on your shoulder. "Ever ridden bareback?"

Your eyes widened.

"If the sight of horses excites yah so much, then what 'bout a nice ride? We could saddle the animals or..." The heat in his eyes was intense. "Maybe you're a daredevil and prefer it free. Up to you, darlin', I'm willing to oblige your needs. I'd give it to ya however yah wanted."

Words caught in your throat. "You want me... to ride... bareback?"

"However, you want, darlin'," he breathed as you inched closer. His other hand moved to touch your shoulder, giving you a brief rub before the same hand lowered to your hip.

Your breathing turned shallow, your knees weakening with each passing second. Heat seared the air around you, but you stayed where you stood, drawing courage to respond to the playful innuendo. "Okay, but if I break my leg, that's on you."

Mingi laughed and jerked his chin back towards the big barn. "I'm sure ya can handle this ride, darlin'. You said you've done this before. Now's a good time to refresh that knowledge, get to know the horses, and give them a workout. Think of it as the best type of warm up to really get you loose and warmed up."

A deep throb burned in your pussy.

Shit, had you gotten wet from some double meaning sex innuendos, and the suggestive smirk playing on Mingi's face made the butterflies swarm furiously in your belly. What the hell was happening to you right now? His finger pressed against your lower back, encouraging you to start walking toward the open doors of the barn and a gasp left your lips when you realized just how much the simple touch sent shivers throughout your body. You don't think you'd ever wanted to be touched so much before by someone.

Fuck... were you this desperate for a man that the simplest of touch would set you off?

"Picked the horse yet?" Mingi asked as your gaze landed on a massive black beast. Its tail flicked gently and a warm welcome flared in its eyes as Mingi led you over to the gate of its paddock. "I was thinkin' you should ride Raven here. He's a big bastard, but once you ride a stallion, any other horse becomes easy. How 'bout it?"

“H-huh?” you stuttered.

"Would ya like to ride a stallion?" He raised his brow, but a teasing smile played on his lips. His hands grabbed the rail of the pen as you walked through the gate and he leaned forward, bending a leg and resting it on the lowest bar. It should've been illegal to look that good when dressed for manual labor. "Have you ridden a stallion before?"

What kind of question was that? A million dirty ideas flooded your mind.

"It's been a few years, but I'd like to try one," your voice seemed huskier, low enough to get his attention, and Mingi lifted his chin, eyes scanning your face. A hitch of breath escaped him and you took it as encouragement, moving closer. He smirked, which only deepened his dimples. How easy it would've been to run your finger over each little dip on his face, but the act would be too bold, right? Too much for two strangers?

Yet he was inviting you to ride...

You moved over to the stallion, placing a hand against its nose as your fingers brushed against the coarse, yet soft hairs that made up its mane. Your lips pulled upwards when its head moved close to your body and leaned against it, eliciting a soft, nicker sound. "Hey, gorgeous."

Mingi opened his mouth but his words died when he caught your expression, noting the smile you were wearing. Damn, did you look good as you stood, hand petting his stallion, talking softly and exchanging pleasantries with the big creature.

As you interacted with his horse, the thought of him going behind and sliding his hands around your waist to steady the movement or hold you upright flashed, sending the blood to pool below. It took a conscious effort not to lick his lips, but damn it all to hell, was his mouth dry with the imagination running through his mind. "Do you... need help getting up, miss?"

You glanced at him. "I think I can manage."

Moving closer, he let his hands hang in a relaxed way at his side, hoping the thick material of his jeans hid the growing bulge. What the fuck were you doing to him so fast? He barely knew you, didn't know much beyond your name, yet his mind was in turmoil; he had never had such a physical reaction so quick, and for a woman to affect him in the ways you did wasn't helping his growing problem.

Said problem seemed to have a mind of its own, not to mention a penchant for ignoring the current issue.

You swung a leg over the back of his horse and he inhaled sharply. Oh, dear, sweet hell... how badly he wanted to see your thighs spread for something else entirely. To get between and taste you, bury his tongue against those smooth folds until your sweet sounds are lost to the wind.

Mingi bit his lip and offered you the reins as his mind imagined its way into an improper fantasy. Those damned city girl shorts you had on showed too much of your perfect plump ass. Nowhere near proper attire for riding a horse bareback or sitting in the saddle. That ass needed something thick and stiff to sink into, to take a punishing ride. The feeling of you on top was going to kill him.

"Good?" Mingi asked as he watched you settle onto the horse's back.

You grinned, eyes crinkling from the smile.

That was a look he'd not forget anytime soon, especially given the situation down south, which was ready to burst his seams if he was still thinking in those terms. When was the last time he felt so inclined? Never.

"A lot harder without a saddle, but it feels good," the smile is real, one that touches your eyes and makes him burn with curiosity. "I missed this feeling of being on a horse."

Mingi nodded. "I bet you did."

You couldn't help but stare at Mingi as you watched him converse and talk in a fluid manner with one of the men named Yunho, a very tall and attractive man with brown hair. You were sitting with the other girls at one of the benches waiting for dinner and there were lots of conversations. Jongho, one of the more quiet ranch hands, had served a bowl of steaming hot vegetable soup and bread to your table. The smell of the cooked carrots, onions and green peppers were all mixed in nicely with the savory taste of the broth. A bottle of ice cold water was placed next to you as well, it felt like a fancy restaurant serving amazing food. The bread was fresh and homemade, you noticed from the breadcrumbs when you bit down.

But you weren't talking, just admiring the view of a handsome tall and masculine cowboy. You took a gulp of your water and cleared your throat. The flutters came in as you looked back at him, not wanting to be obvious in your staring. But that didn't seem to go unnoticed as Bora tapped you with an elbow to your rib. You looked back and narrowed your eyes at her as she took a slurping spoonful of soup and giggled at the sound.

"So you were spending the whole time riding horses, huh?" Jinhee started and gave a quizzical smile to you.

“I... felt a little inspired today,” you said, trying to keep your voice even. “Mingi knows how much I enjoyed it, though. And it was fun. I haven't had a workout like that in a while.”

Hyemi looked up and glanced at you from her spoon of soup, her eyebrows scrunching, a face only for you and she returned to the spoonful of broth. "We are talking about the horses, right?"

"Hyemi," you whined out her name in annoyance, brows dropping in the center in a scowl, only for Hyemi to return a smug smile as she sips her spoon again.

"The first day's been wild," Bora spoke again and wiped the corner of her lips with a tissue as she chewed on the chunk of bread she cut off from the roll and chewed a bit.

You took a sip of water, happy at the sudden topic change. There's no telling what else your friends have to say or rather what they might assume. It isn't like you were expecting anything from Mingi. You were here to have a good time with the girls. That was your motto and motto only, no other reasoning or implications was to be associated, and certainly no fantasizing, so why would it cross their minds otherwise?

You smiled again and placed a napkin in your lap. "Thanks for dragging me out to come here. This reminds me of home. I didn't realize how much I was craving that country air until right now. Makes the food even better."

"Is the country girl happy?" Hyemi teased.

"Are you city girls happy?" You countered with an equally joking response.

"So, um, which one do you girls wanna choose tomorrow?" Jinhee asked and scooted her chair closer. "Ride the trails, fishing, hiking? I'm dying for some adventure here. I need more than the pasture, and these mountains look lovely. I wanna feel the dirt beneath my feet, wading through a shallow river."

"Oh," Bora responded with the sound coming from the back of her throat. "That sounds heavenly. Hey, Seonghwa!"

He paused his steps, glass and jug of tea in hand. "Yes?"

“Can you find a good trail for us to hike tomorrow? And a river with calm water for us to wade through?” Bora asked. “Jinhee really wants a thrill while we're here.”

Seonghwa nodded with a deep chuckle and made a step back towards the cabin to gather a list of activities for the four ladies. "San and Wooyoung are available, I'm sure they'd show y'all to the good spots."

Bora laughed, her voice catching the cowboy's attention. "Let's do the works tomorrow, shall we? Ride the horses, fish, cook the fish, then hike and play in a river. All that good stuff. Hyemi, you in?"

Hyemi smiled, that cat-like smile in place that revealed her dimples on the one cheek and nodded. "Yup, I'm in. "

“Y/N, what about you?” Bora asked.

You purse your lips as you think about it. "I was thinking about getting my hands dirty and mucking the stables."

Your girlfriends stare at you as if you'd gone bonkers. Even Hyemi gave you a hard stare, almost as if trying to figure out where the fuck that idea came from.

Bora had a perplexed look on her face, the wrinkling in the corners of her brow apparent. "You're actually going to do that? With those hands? You're actually willing to break a nail?"

"Yeah... Why not?" You said. "I used to do that all the time back home."

Hyemi sighed as a strand of hair blew across her face with the breeze, a sight that should have distracted anyone else. "Don't you wanna play with the sexy cowboys? Jinhee here is already eyeballing one named Wooyoung."

You shook your head. "It's fine. Really."

"Will you muck stalls every single day while we're here?" Bora questioned.

"Of course not, don't worry," You patted the top of her shoulder.

"I guess you can't take the country out of the girl," Jinhee jokes.

"It's only for one day," your friends still looked unconvinced. "I just wanna muck a stable."

"Or, ride another horse," Hyemi quipped under her breath with a tiny giggle.

You rolled your eyes and picked up the remaining chunks of your bread, taking it as a chance to leave. "And I'm heading off. Good night, you three. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Yes, mother dearest," Jinhee hollered.

You picked at the bread piece and swiped it, tossing the remnants into a nearby garbage. One by one you stepped into your sleeping quarters and began gathering a set of sleepwear and clean underwear, before padding toward the shared bathroom, determined not to be distracted by the languid caress of cool breezes that wafted gently over your bare arms and shoulders.

An evening shower was calling your name.

Stripping the dirty garments off and tossing them aside in a hamper, your hands found the water dial, turning on the warmth as steam clouded the mirror. You stepped in with an exhale, sighing out loudly. Fuck, a bath or shower was always a welcome break. The warm water relaxed and softened skin, easing sore muscles, and that was a welcoming feeling after the long afternoon horseback riding session.

Warm streams coursed down your body. Soothing sensations coated the entirety of your flesh. The feeling of fingers in your scalp, massaging shampoo in and the heady fragrance of honey-vanilla filled the room as you ran your conditioner covered hair through a comb. After letting the conditioner marinate into your hair strands for a while, you rinsed it clean and turned off the water, wiping down your hands, face and hair as you squeezed out excess water, standing naked as the last drops ran down the drain.

The door to the shared bathroom flew open.

"Shit," you shouted as you wrapped a large, clean towel around your wet body, glancing around to catch a shirtless Mingi. His cheeks turned beet red as his gaze averted out the window as he rubbed a hand over his mouth.

He shook his head. "Sorry, didn't think you'd...I didn't think anyone else would be up this late to shower."

You're eyeing him and he's eyeing you back, in fact, his eyes were eating you up. There was no denying how you enjoyed the hungry look in his eyes as they drifted along your wet curves, and you felt like the moment was to keep him busy and allow him to look his fill. "I just wanted a late night shower after all that riding."

“Don’t let me get in your way,” Mingi said. “I can go later, s'fine.”

You grabbed his wrist to stop him, pulling him back inside the bathroom and closing the door behind him and locking it. The tug made him move forward toward you and the end result was his muscled chest against your covered breasts, nipples protruding and rubbing against the hard muscles. You wanted to keep him and his perfect physique close, feeling his hard and chiseled edges press up against your body.

His expression seemed flustered.

"Join me," you said with a quick lick of your lips, sending him a seductive gaze and hoping that his brain was able to grasp the meaning behind that. "Or rather..."

A finger curled around the strap of your towel and gently pulled downwards, releasing the hold and leaving the fabric on the floor. Mingi's breath hitch and his lips parted. You leaned up as he dipped his head and met your lips, crushing against them softly, savoring the connection and the kiss. Your naked chest pressed against his own naked chest and his hands skimmed down your sides until he's gripping and pushing a thigh in between your legs, leaving your dripping cunt wide and open against his denim-clad thigh.

Your skin erupted into goosebumps and a soft moan slipped out of you when his lips connected to your throat and your teeth nipped playfully. A hand snaked downwards toward the growing erection pushing insistently against his jeans and Mingi growled into your skin as your palm pushed down slowly. The feel of that firm member, twitching beneath the constriction made your toes curl with the realization. You wanted that big dick in you now, wanted to get stretched open until you were stuffed to the brim with his cock.

But first things first.

With nimble fingers, you undid the front buckle, working on his belt and tugging the jean fabric down. The brush of Mingi's lips came off your throat and landed on the shell of your ear. His heavy breathing was a symphony. A sensational noise you'd wanted to hear.

"Damn, woman..." he husked and the roughness in his baritone made you shiver. "Need me that bad, don't you?"

"You were the one who said that you'd give it to me however I wanted," you said and felt the heat rush to your core as a pair of calloused hands clasped around your ass cheeks.

"I meant for ridin' horses," he was guiding your body backwards until your lower back hit the smooth surface of the bathroom counter and hoisted you up to sit on it. "And didn't imagine in my head that you'd make it dirty."

"That's what you say, cowboy," you placed a kiss to the edge of his mouth. The hands squeezing at your plush flesh was intoxicating.

His fingers slid upward along your sides, until those thick digits traced the curve of your waist and a single thumb reached up and brushed the edge of your supple breast. You're rewarded with a moan escaping your throat as his thumb found a hardened nub and twiddled, eliciting a string of heated moans as you closed your eyes in pleasure. You relished his touch as it moved back down to your thighs and he parted your legs, those talented fingers dipping low as the tips teased and pressed lightly at your sex. "So how do yah wanna get it, darlin'?"

"Surprise me," you replied, but Mingi didn't waste time as his strong, broad shoulders pried open your thighs. He gripped the fleshiness, fingertips digging as your stomach lurched in anticipation. What's he planning on doing? The cowboy dropped to his knees with a thud as you watched.

"Move backwards a little," he said in a gravely tone, not hesitating as you spread yourself before him, angling your body up and raising a leg over his shoulder to give the man better access. "Just relax and let me do my magic."

Watching the man on his knees, spreading you wide was such an erotic sight. His expression held lust and hunger and you felt a swell in your chest, aching to be touched and nibbled and licked at by Mingi's tongue. Then a palm presses to the inner-meaty of your thigh, nails softly digging.

His mouth is on you then, licking along the slit. The swipes tease and taunt you, making you throb for more attention. You want to fuck his face. How lovely and filthy a sight. That thick tongue swirling around the sensitive spot sends sparks to fly and dance throughout the room, soaking your inner folds. It's divine, indescribable even, what he's doing to you, and his skilled ministrations had your head falling back in bliss.

His thumb finds a pert nipple again and lightly grazes over it, massaging it slowly in small circles. There's a slight pressure as his middle finger travels between the inner lips, the cold feeling making you gasp and want to contract against his digits, wanting them deeper inside of you. "Holy shit, Mingi."

“Do you want me to keep going?” Mingi asked.

"Please," the word is more of a purr than a statement, and the sensation has you wrapping both thighs around his neck. The fingers curl and press right against that bundle of nerves, making your body erupt into a fit of moans. Then his mouth is back on your center, adding to the delicious teasing from his tongue and your toes are curling as you press the backs of your legs into him.

And you're lifting your body slightly upwards as if encouraging him further to work deeper into that spot. There's an almost growl emitting from him when you wiggle your hips and you swear there's a grin that appeared against your soaked sex. Mingi is fucking smirking, eating your juices like a damn meal.

“Gods, yes...” you moaned.

"Fucking delicious," he muttered against the folds, and when his other hand grips your ass to bring your pussy closer, you throw your head back and close your eyes, one hand gripping onto the counter top and the other finding a home in Mingi's dark hair. Your nails lightly tug at the locks, and you're rewarded with a groan against the hot, wet heat between your thighs.

"Shit, that's good," your walls clenched tighter around his fingers as he increased the pace. He works faster, sucking and nipping as the walls clamp down harder with each motion and sensation. There's a desperate tug now in your clit, pulling tighter. He's not only sending you spiraling closer and closer, he's edging you to your climax. "Fuck, that's perfect."

"Cum for me, darlin'. Cum on my mouth. It'll make my job that much easier." Mingi moans against your heat.

Oh, lord...

You shuddered and twitched as his fingers thrusting inside the pulsing, twitching sex made it harder to breathe and focus on his words. Your back arched in response and your body jerked violently in a trembling motion as that sensitive pearl continued to be manipulated by Mingi's experienced thumb, sliding slowly over the folds.

"That's it," he says softly and that's it, the coil bursts and unravels, flooding your whole system with relief and release. The tension evaporated. You came hard on Mingi's lips. So hard your walls clamped around his tongue and his digits as a few drops squirt out of your entrance and down your thighs, covering his wrist as he worked you through the orgasmic pleasure and high.

When the grip of your legs loosen and his arm retreats back to his side, you glance downwards and see the smirk forming on his lips. They glisten, plump and swollen from eating you out, but you reach a hand out and pull him towards your face and lock lips, your mouth finding his own, tasting the leftover mixture of his saliva and your nectar. A mixture which has you wanting to moan.

"We're not finished, cowboy," you whispered against his lips as you reached forward and gripped his now aching hard on in your hand, watching him squirm and writhe as his dick throbbed in response to your touch.

"Woman, I've been dying to be in since you rode that stallion." Mingi admitted.

You grinned. "Dying you say?"

"Fucking hard, and ready. Ready to be mounted by you," he grunted as you palmed the long length, applying the perfect amount of pressure to bring the cowboy pleasure. "Riding a stallion's one thing. Now you wanna ride something else."

Your heart stuttered in its beats as you replied with an answer. "Always."

Mingi chuckled, unlocking the door. "Let's save the rest for later, hmm? No point gettin' started on the main course, while the other guys are in the vicinity. Though I might wanna suggest taking this little show out of the bathroom next time, and doin' it in my bedroom, somewhere more private and quiet."

Your cheeks reddened and you bit back a tiny smile. "Maybe I'm okay with that. Being alone and having no prying eyes."

Mingi nodded, leaning in towards your mouth, grabbing the back of your head and tilting your chin up. He pecked a couple of small kisses to the edge of your lips, placing a finger along the top of your chin. "We have all week, darlin', don't worry. We have lots of time. Plus, I know exactly where to put a nice little hickey, so no one will see."

Hearing that and imagining that, made you shudder. You released a sigh as he kissed you, tasting remnants of your sweetness along the upper lip, his eyes twinkling. A single hand glided through your damp tresses and came up along your jawline as the kisses became deeper, exploring his mouth.

You could kiss him all night. But at the mention of 'week' it occurred to you that you'd spend every other night for the following seven days getting your fill of Mingi's dick. Couldn't have anything more perfect than that.

Mingi grinned.

And when he did, you melted.

Fuck the damn man-eater.

With your friends hiking the trails and Mingi tending to some of the work around the ranch, you find yourself somehow in his office trying to make some sense out of the paper mountain on his desk, after Seonghwa and San had warned about Mingi's flair for letting everything pile up for too long. You didn't mean to be in here, it's your vacation after all, but you needed a quiet place to escape to answer a few phone calls and emails.

When you stepped into the room with your tablet under your arm and some of your own work documents for reference and in search of a table, you didn't anticipate getting yourself involved and wrapped into Mingi's paperwork. Mingi found you in a flurry of folders and documents scattered across the office floor, filing cabinet drawers flung open as you frantically looked over receipts, trying to piece the puzzle together.

“Y/N, why are ya in here?” Mingi asked.

You raised your head and offered a sympathetic look. "Mingi, hi. I wanted to help."

“Ya know, you are a guest here. Ya didn't have to do that, none of this stuff, and my messy stack of papers ain't yer concern. You should be spending your vacation out riding horses with the others or soakin' in the hot springs,” Mingi said.

You bit your lower lip. "I couldn't stop looking, and it felt important. As an overworked accountant with absolutely no time for a social life, and therefore not dating anyone, and hence the reason I'm here for the week, this felt important. Maybe I could help."

Mingi watched carefully. "Help with what exactly?"

Your expression softened, though you tried to remain neutral. "Help with the muckstacks of financial records, the expense records, invoices and ledgers. I want to help."

"Look darlin', you don't have to," his hands pushed down on his jeans as he adjusted his stance. You wanted to look elsewhere, anywhere, at something besides the tight material pulling at Mingi's muscles and thighs and cock.

He had his full attention fixed on your face. It wasn't going to do you any good. There'd been enough interaction and temptation between the both of you as it was. "It's fine, just let me have a few moments and I'll take care of the mess later. Why are these files in so much disarray?"

He looked up in the air as if in deep thought. "These were put together and sorted by Jongho, one of the employees around the ranch and well, that guy's not good with math or anythin' related to the ranch's financial stuff."

You scanned around the cluttered office. "Well, at least his intentions were noble and I think we'll have some fun sorting this out later."

"Fun?" Mingi laughed.

You sighed. "All work and no play makes for a very, very dull girl. Besides, my friends are going to be gone for a while. And I might as well do something while they're gone hiking."

“Hiking? Why didn't ya go along?” Mingi asked.

"I prefer the company of the horses and other ranch activities," you said. "You can take the girl out of the country but you can't take the country out of the girl."

His grin had returned, lighting up his face. "They headed off with San and Wooyoung, or who knows, one or two more people might come down to help later. I'm guessing they'll be back around evening for some campfire activities."

"Guess that's something to look forward to," you said.

You brushed your thumb along the edge of the stack. A page had slid out and you picked it up, frowning at it.

"What is it?" Mingi asked.

"How has the ranch been doing financially? Your ranch has a nice reputation with its clientele and your reviews speak volume," you answered. "And yet these numbers, some of your expenditures here, show some discrepancies."

"A little money trouble," he answered with a shrug.

You furrowed your brow, turning to the calculator and scribbling some quick numbers, before jotting them down on a small notepad. Mingi is now hovering, watching you work as if mesmerized.

"Okay, these expenses are adding up, you've been a little irresponsible with some purchases but overall this should still leave your profits over what you're actually projected. So this money must have gone missing somewhere along the line, I'm guessing in payroll," you explained.

He's impressed.

"You can see that in such a quick manner and those pages I handed ya? No way..." He laughs then and you're taken aback. There's something boyish, gentle in the gesture and in that laugh. He's sexy, he's charming, and now this cowboy is full-on boyish and you find it undeniably alluring.

Damn it, you want him so bad.

You return his smile.

Mingi cleared his throat, a blush working up his neck and coloring his skin a dusty pink. "Darlin', you're amazing. S'much appreciated, and thank ya, i'd love your help."

"Of course," you replied and started sifting through the stack of papers, plucking some up here and there.

He had no clue as to why you'd even offer, when you were already taking time out of your vacation and then here you are doing his bookkeeping as well. "What made ya come on a week long horseback adventure in the first place?"

"I was persuaded by some of my friends," you responded. "They told me that they wanted me to tag along, that I needed to spend time away from my stressful and dead-end job. That I had spent too much time being a hermit and wanted to bring me on a nice trip to relax."

"No boyfriend to drag along or some such? A pretty thing like you not havin' someone special around makes me a little suspicious, honey. How many hearts have ya broken along the way with yer beauty?" Mingi asks.

You snorted and shook your head at the suggestion and shot him an incredulous look. "What about you, cowboy? Why don't you have a girl of your own, Mingi? I find that surprising. Seems like you would be scooping ladies up off the ground wherever you went."

He laughed. The sound is charming and a little intimidating. "Just haven't found a gal quite perfect for me. Guess I gotta be lookin' a little longer then."

You flashed him a half smile and went back to work, moving onto a small stack of receipts, jotting down things, calculating, and comparing numbers.

"Hey, mind if I stay in here a little while to watch you work? Yah know, keep you company and all," Mingi questioned.

You shook your head. "Don't bother me at all. I really appreciate the company."

So, as you began to scatter the papers all over the surface of the large table and organized a system, Mingi dropped himself down into a nearby chair and began observing your working and sorting, paying attention to what you were doing and trying to learn, much to your amusement.

Watching you at work was impressive as hell, and it didn't take you much time to notice the fact that his eyes never wandered. In fact, they seemed locked.

Mingi may not have been an educated guy, not in the books like you, but he was focused, you could tell. Mingi is driven. When he's on something, nothing comes between him and it until the job is complete. Right now, it's his ranch and what he wants. You have to admit, he's dedicated to what he wants, he wants his dream alive and well, and here you are.

At some point, you'd gotten lost in your numbers that you'd forgotten Mingi was there. Not until a large hand gently touched your backside.

"Why don't ya take a break from work and come outside with me," he'd suggested.

You're still startled from the small touch but not repulsed by it. A little tickled pink. "What for?"

He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, horse ridin', feedin' the animals. I'll let ya hold the baby chickens if ya promise to not run away with one, steal it and smuggle it to the city."

You tried to control the laughter but you failed, letting the bubbling up come through. "That wouldn't be very bright, I live in an apartment."

"Guess not then," he said.

You let out a small stretch. "But you know what, how do I say no? I would love to go riding with you."

The corners of his lips curved up a bit as you set down your pencil. You glanced outside toward the setting sun. What the hell, a change of pace was going to be interesting. You stood up from the small office table, where you'd been organizing and taking stock of inventory. "Lead the way, Mr Song."

"O' course," he said and made sure you were behind him, to follow him to the stables. "After yah, Miss L/N."

You both headed out towards the barns to catch a few more hours of daylight. You weren't expecting the view, watching Mingi trot out of the stall on his own personal horse, leading another towards your direction.

Your breath hitched.

Okay, sure you told the girls that cowboys don't exactly look like the men in the magazine because you know cowboys, you've met your fair share of cowboys before. Dated a few even. The picture of the cowboys didn't even come close to how beautiful this man in front of you truly was. He's gorgeous, simply and utterly breathtaking and you couldn't look away if you tried.

“You still with us?” Mingi asked.

Hearing him say that and knowing he's still on earth with you brought a rush of heat to your cheeks. Oh fuck... "Um, yes. Sorry, spaced out for a moment there. It's the accounting."

He flashed you an easy grin. "Take a break from those numbers, darlin' and come along with me. No point in being surrounded by such paper piles when you have something better to look at right in front of you. Ya'll have all week."

You let out a laugh as you swung your legs over and mounted the horse. Once you're situated with your balance and grip on the reins, you begin leading the stallion on the outskirts and just outside the property where you're able to view the vast space surrounding the barn and the ranch.

Mingi let himself have a big wide smile. He watched as you expertly climbed on the back of the horse, positioning yourself and getting into the saddle and not missing a beat. Sure there were other women that would throw themselves at him during their stay at the ranch, but all those women only wanted him for the view. For the image of a hot cowboy with abs and the talent on the rodeo. But not this girl.

Not you.

You didn't come to the dude ranch just to make eye contact with him. You'd been riding the horses since a young age. You were the kind that liked nature and didn't wear high heels, didn't do anything extravagant or try to impress him with fancy and glamor. And that's the kind of woman that captured his attention, that could probably have him falling. He couldn't deny the attraction he felt for you. He was losing it, falling fast and there was absolutely no point in trying to stop it.

That was it for him. He was a damn goner. You were it.

“Darlin’?” Mingi called.

The wind pulled the words away, leaving you barely hearing what he's saying to you, and it's nice, so lovely, to hear his voice out here, where you're just enjoying nature and not buried into sheets of documents and numbers.

“Yeah, Mingi,” you replied.

“How 'bout a friendly race?” Mingi asked.

A friendly race. He's asking you for a challenge. You lifted your brow and the corners of your lips raised. With his horse he can have an unfair advantage. After all, you didn't expect him to come saddling out behind you with his own horse. A big grin appeared on his face, while he had your stomach dropping. His features looked rugged under that damn hat of his and he's just got that dangerous sort of glint in his dark eyes. You shivered with thoughts, all the wicked and filthy images coming to mind.

“I thought you might go easier on a guest of yours,” you said.

“But I never had a guest who knew her way around a horse,” Mingi replied.

"True," you replied, gripping the leather saddle beneath you, the old material coarse against your palms.

Mingi narrowed his eyes. "So? Do ya accept then? I got a price of some sort for ya if ya win."

Your eyes sparkled at the challenge and you took a deep breath, clearing your thoughts. Your attention returned to Mingi. "And what is that, if I win?"

He raised his chin up, licking the edge of his lower lip. "Name the reward then. Whadda you say? Come on darlin', lemme get an answer from yah. Put me out of my damn misery."

Your chest flutters at the last word and at that hopeful expression in Mingi's eyes. What could a nice race possibly give you as a prize? Anything would be worth it. "Okay, Mingi, if I win the race, you have to do something for me."

“Like?” Mingi asked.

You were both traveling slowly across the landscape, both keeping your respective horses on a short reign so as to not gallop away too quickly.

“An exclusive date with the handsome cowboy who owns the ranch,” you said.

You watched him swallow as you proposed the suggestion. "Just that then? I'm a lucky bastard, I'd be thrilled if I win. Then I'd get a date with a girl as pretty as you. Winning a kiss, holding your hand for a single day could be nice."

The warm flush works its way down your neck and settles below your throat. You shift in the saddle, watching his head as he turns to focus on the ranch and the landscape in front of you. A white cap has now settled itself and a tiny breeze drifted around you both.

"And you?" you asked, your gaze falling back toward him, observing how the horse moved beside yours, watching how he adjusted his hands against the leather bridle.

"And I what, darlin'?" he asked, leaning forward and you notice his upper arm muscle bulging from under his shirt sleeves. He's staring forward and now you can see a pair of gray-blue eyes focused.

“Well, what's your end of the bet? What is the prize to you?” you asked.

You.

You reached a river flowing gently across the landscape, watching the currents change with every slight turn of the horse you're sitting on top. Beside you, Mingi adjusts his hat on his head as he leaned back in the saddle.

"Guess ya won this one," he said quietly.

You pull the reins and lead the horse around, coming face to face with Mingi. The both of you had dismounted and led the horses to the riverside, giving them a moment to feed on the fresh grass. The stallion is kneeling down near Mingi's horse, tearing the green shoots up and chewing the sweet tender grass blades.

"Better luck next time, cowboy," you patted the horse. "Now, don't we have a little business we need to attend to?"

Mingi, red in the cheeks and feeling warm all over, nods. "Ya won."

“That means the winner gets her prize. How about right now? Just you and me,” you purred.

"Sweetheart, there's nothing but the river and these fields," he smirked and lifted his hands. "What do you plan on doing here?"

"Showing you a little something," you murmured, your fingers grasping the hem of your shirt. Mingi's eyes grow wider as he watches you lift off the white cotton shirt to reveal a pretty blue lace bralette.

"Let's finish what we started the night in the shower," you muttered as you dropped to your knees, your hands grasping the leather belt on the front of his jeans. "Is that okay? Don't you want me to?"

"I do, sweetheart. I do," Mingi let out. "But you deserve to be in the comforts of a bed, not out here on the grass. Are you sure?"

“Mingi, right now, on this field or in the middle of that cold shower, it doesn't matter,” you said. “Right here, just us, as long as we're together is where I want this.”

"Then so it'll be," he says with a smirk. He walks to his horse and pulls out a thin blanket from one of the side pouches, draping it over the ground. "I don't want you to get dirty, and the grass is prickly."

Your hands had undid his pants, freeing his thick length from the fabric confinements and watched as his cock had already started growing. The warmth of his hardness against your palm. "I bet you fucked plenty of girls out in the open if you had a blanket ready."

Mingi laughed, but there wasn't humor in it, as you began stroking up and down his shaft. "Not as many as you're thinkin' sweetheart. I only have it on the days I'm riding out at night and sleeping out under the stars."

"Yeah?" you muttered, dragging his pants further down his legs. You glanced back at him and he's now unbuttoning his shirt, letting it slide off.

"Yeah," Mingi answered, then stepped out of his jeans and tossed them on his boots. "Open up those pretty lips, darlin' and take me deep."

"You don't have to tell me twice," you grinned and inched closer to his crotch, guiding your tongue along his length.

Your soft wet tongue glides against his shaft. Mingi's not quite prepared and so you open wide as you suck him down, listening to him gasp when you bob down and back up again and begin sucking harder and harder, taking a few inches further in.

Your tongue swirled at the tip before you dove right back onto his thick cock, stretching your lips to accommodate his size, feeling him press back toward your throat and you swallow, letting it tickle down into your throat. He's already filling your mouth so well with just a taste.

"Good girl, just like that," he grunts and strokes your hair, using it as an anchor, tangling his fingers and weaving it through as you sucked his entire length. "Let me see those beautiful eyes."

And he's watching you now, his gorgeous brown eyes as they stay glued to your face, meeting his lusty gaze. That familiar hunger had come back, so intense, making you weak to the bones. You've been with plenty of men, plenty of cowboys, and none have ever had the same effect, have taken hold of you so fast like this.

"Such a filthy girl, your lips look amazing around my thick cock," Mingi is beautiful above you. His eyes shuttering close, his head falling back, lips parting in a groan.

When he opened his eyes again, they were darker. As he continues to rock in and out, he makes a low sound and places a large hand on the back of your head, his fingers digging in tight. He's pulsating in your mouth and you can feel his thickness throbbing, that thick head forcing its way back against your throat.

"Ah fuck. Darlin'... fuck, baby, that's good, too damn good," his voice groans.

You pull back, relaxing your throat and give yourself a moment of relief to catch your breath. You're using the opportunity to continue jerking and slicking your hand. Saliva and pre cum was spilling on your skin, creating a slippery friction.

You stared down at your hand, your fist moving in a pumping motion against Mingi's thick, wet cock. There's a bit more slickness at the tip, pre-cum dribbling down, running in a steady stream over his length. Mingi grasps your jaw. You have to tilt your head.

"Don't think you're done yet, pretty baby," Mingi reaches for the waistband of your shorts and pulls it down, then guides his fingers to slip inside of your panties and move them over.

"Fuck," Mingi muttered. He can feel the warm juices spilling out of your soaked and sticky slit. He plays at your entrance, just teasing it before slipping his finger into you. You clenched tight and he smiled down at you, moving in a quick circular motion and back out. His hands move to pull the lace down further, revealing his glistening wet fingers, that's coated with your essence. He smirks, his expression dripping with filth. He licks them.

"Darlin', there's something I gotta ask," Mingi's voice is deep and raw, filled with desire, and oh he can barely keep himself contained, wanting to dive into you and bring you to pleasure again. "Ever ridden a cowboy before?"

You rolled your eyes and smirked, biting down on your lower lip. "Maybe," you admitted, arching an eyebrow at him.

"Mm hmm," Mingi slid his pants the rest of the way off and took you by the wrist. He sits back on the blanket, his erection sticking up, angry and stiff, curving almost perfectly as he relaxes against the flannel material. He pats his thigh, a smirk working across his lips. "Come and mount me, cowgirl. Saddle on up."

With a smile, you position yourself over Mingi's thick cock, slowly sinking down inch by inch until you have the entirety of his shaft, stuffed inside. A delicious moan slipped out of you. It was just as full and stretched as it felt during the night at the shower. His girth split you and you're nearly shuddering with how the heat throbs between your legs. You're clenching against his thick length and it feels incredible. "Oh my god... Mingi, it's..."

"Gonna be a bouncy ride. Don't worry sweetheart, I'll hold you tight, trust me," he grinned at you, sliding his large hand across your ass cheek and grasping it, palming at the supple curve.

"Yessss..." you drawled out a moan and the moment you start moving, feeling him glide in and out of your slick passage. The ripples of pleasure began to ripple from the bottom of your toes and run all through. "Shit, you're gonna ruin me for anyone else. Mingi, god, this thick dick is gonna wreck me."

He licked his lower lip, thrusting up, pushing his hips and following you. "Feel good? Tell me, I wanna hear, tell me just how you feel, darlin'. Take all of this big fat cock you can get."

You leaned back, reaching your arms up to get a nice grip on Mingi's muscled shoulders. It was easy to steady your pace, his girth sinking into your warmth with his constant upward strokes. It was different, doing the motions in reverse, having a view of the man before you while still seeing his perfect cock slip in and out of you.

"This what ya needed, honey? Say my name," Mingi's voice is gruff and sultry, as you bounce your cunt against his cock, causing wet skin sounds that could be heard with every smack of his thighs meeting yours. His dark, piercing stare remained on you, focusing in, paying attention to the little details, especially every inch of exposed skin, everything that could send pleasure through your body.

"Fuck, it feels amazing," you whispered against his ear and sank your teeth on the skin of his earlobe. He grasped your ass and yanked you towards him, ramming his cock inside of you. "Yes, fuck, I love how good this is. It's going to ruin me, but damn, I don't even want it to stop."

A deep chuckle left his chest. His warm breath grazing the skin along the crook of your neck. "Ride this cock till you milk me for every drop. Use me for every inch you need. Whatever it is, whatever ya want, darlin', it's yours. You have control."

Mingi stroked your face with his free hand. Your soft warm pussy clenched against his shaft as you continued riding him. Mingi groaned, his fingers pressed into the flesh of your thigh. "Fuck, that's what you wanted all day, isn't it? Just the promise of my dick deep in you. Needed me to fill up your pussy, sweet baby."

You've fucked a cowboy or two, in your experience, but man none of them compared to Mingi. None have held a candle to how fucking thick his shaft is as it reaches every spot inside. Even your toys have nothing on the stretch that you're getting from the man currently beneath you. Mingi's dick felt amazing sliding deep, your cunt sensitive and tensing.

"Yes, yes. It's the only thing I've wanted," you told him. "Nothing better."

The corner of his lips tilted upwards, feeling a bit smug as he raised his knees and changed the angle. He's angling your movements now and it's hitting that glorious sweet spot with ease.

"This dick the best you've had, sweet girl?" He grunts in between breaths. His strong thighs rocking, grinding, driving his fat shaft. "Nobody else is gonna fuck you this good, hm? No way any other cock will be this thick or nice, make you feel like this."

He's taking your moans like a goddamn mantra of sweet noises. "Oh? What was that sweetheart? Come and lemme hear."

He pulled you flush with his body. Your cunt now kissing the base of Mingi's hard shaft.

"No one..." you managed to gasp out, breathless, and began working up the pace. Fucking him fast, feeling his thickness caress that special spot again. "Never.. felt this fucking good," your hands grabbed his hard pecs. "Oh fuck, Mingi!"

"Come on, baby, show me just how much ya love taking my fat cock," he grinned up at you, eyes bright and flashing with wicked gleams of light. "That's right, show me, sweet thing, c'mon. That's good, good fucking girl. Keep it like this and milk me til ya squeeze me dry. All the cum I've got for ya."

Hearing him talk was beyond hot. There is no doubt he has ruined you. Fuck any other guy. Mingi's the one you needed to be fucked by. Your hands found a grip on his solid muscular shoulders. Your pace never slowed down. Mingi was helping you out, setting the rhythmic beat, meeting the clap of your hips.

"Oh yes. I'll be your dirty girl, no matter the kind of request, no matter how nasty. As long as it's you giving me all the cock," you purred. "Fuck, no one will ever compare. Want this inside of me everyday."

“Such a greedy little thing,” Mingi chuckled.

"Fuck, cowboy, yeah just like that. Ruin me," you whispered, arching your back, bouncing down, harder, faster, allowing him deeper. "Make me addicted to this big fucking cowboy cock."

Your dirty, sexy words drove him crazy, feeling him turn wild underneath you. In a split second he's switched you both, rolling so he's on top now. Your legs fell open wider, letting his full weight down on top of you. He's starting a vicious and wicked pace, just drilling into your cunt, rough, strong, slamming the base against you. "What would your friends think, huh? Sweet pretty thing like you, enjoying such a dirty fuck. Laying under me with such a greedy wet pussy."

"Don't care," you grunted. "I only fucking want you."

"Are you on birth control, Y/N?" His voice came in a husky tone. He kept moving, pumping into your clenching heat.

"Yeah, yeah I am. Mingi," you whined, your grip firm on his arm.

"Good, beautiful. Been dreaming about coming inside, fillin' ya up all warm. Making you drip out all my seed. Damn it," his lips found your own. He was moving as close to you as possible, leaving little room for his hands. He kept fucking hard into your core. "How much of me can you handle?"

"All, everything. I'm begging you," you met his lips with more force, loving his kiss, hungry for the taste. You held on to his head, not breaking the touch as he moved and pumped harder.

“Hang on then, you're about to get a damn gusher,” Mingi warned.

A throaty moan leaves you, feeling that hot gushing warmth filling you up. There's so much cum, already slipping out as he continued fucking into you, drawing out every last drop. His body shuddering on top, your arms holding on, squeezing his large form and you were moaning from the intense pressure of your orgasm rippling through.

Your pussy is flooded with Mingi's cream as he gently drops his mouth on your neck and kisses and licks away, continuing to spill his seed deep inside of you and you both enjoy the mutual pleasures of your orgasms. You closed your eyes, rolling in ecstasy, your entire body becoming relaxed and tired.

"Thank you, sweet girl," Mingi dropped his forehead on yours, catching his breath and gradually calmed his thrusting. He was looking down at you with such a content face, sweat slicking his hair. "Let's get ya cleaned up and then head back to the ranch."

Your friends watched the whole scene unfold between you and Mingi riding back in on the horses as they waited for your return. Jinhee sees the small smile on your face from her position near the picnic table, setting up for some good old fashioned dinner style campfire. She let out a silent squeal, squeezing her hands tightly and grabbing Bora by the forearm. "Y/N and Mingi are riding back."

"She looks so happy," Bora replied. "I think she really missed the country lifestyle."

Hyemi nodded. "She looks at peace here. I've never seen her this happy ever since she joined the firm. She could finally enjoy herself."

"She's actually been relaxed for once in her life," Jinhee teased, resting the platter of hotdogs and meat onto the side of the table and taking a long gulp from her s'mores stick. "Not wound up and frazzled with all her paperwork she brings with her everywhere she goes."

"Uh, ladies," Hyemi began, moving closer towards the women.

You rode up along the pasture with the tall cowboy not too far behind. You tugged on the reins, bringing the mare to a slow walk and allowing Mingi and his steed to catch up.

"Nice race, pretty lady," he gave you a wink.

"Can't believe I beat you at a race. Are you really rusty?" You laughed.

“Maybe you were pretty damn distracting along the ride back to the stable,” Mingi replied. “Distracting enough to leave me speechless. You sure damn well know how to leave an impression.”

You turned and watched him climb off his stallion and steady his footing, throwing the straps over the wooden bar. Once he's secured the animal, he offered you a hand and helped pull you down off the saddle.

Your feet finally touch the ground. "Pretty good for a city girl, am I?"

"Ahhhh but you're a country girl, remember?" He winked.

"That I am," you laughed. You patted the horse. "I'm not ready for my friends' teasing. They saw us ride back in."

"So they saw me get my ass whipped. Oh well, what's a man's pride anyway when he's faced with a beauty like yourself," Mingi replied and let out a smile. "Hey, you did earn your reward darlin' and I'm a man who keeps his promises. Now go on. I think your friends are waitin'."

He kissed you on the cheek, a small, chaste brush against skin. He's left you breathless, staring after him and your knees feeling a little weak, all too aware of how hard he can kiss. It wasn't fair to turn on that charm at a moment like now.

The women all giggled, waving you over once you've headed towards them.

"So...were those rosy cheeks because of a nice ride on your horse? Or because of a certain tall, dark, and handsome someone you were with?" Jinhee questioned, eyeing you from head to toe.

You were a mess and you know it, covered in sweat from your horse ride with Mingi, still filled to the brim with adrenaline and some hormones.

"You're asking me the wrong questions, I'm too overwhelmed and heated from the sun," you joked.

Bora crossed her arms, frowning, not buying any of the bullshit. "Something is different. That sparkle, the glint, in your eyes says there's something more to that cowboy we met the first day we came."

"Pssssh," Hyemi pipped up. "Don't lie, Y/N, we saw the look on your face when you were riding back. You looked happy, more happy than I'd ever seen."

Your shoulders shrugged and your lips pursed, holding back the excitement and pure happiness wanting to pour through.

Hyemi went up behind you and clasped her hands together. "Oh come on, tell us more. Tell us anything, everything!"

You were not going to tell your friends about having gotten eaten out in the bathroom by Mingi or even have sex out in the open fields, but you could tell them about the racing bet.

You turned to them, facing the group as one. "Well, let's talk about that over some beer and dinner. I'm starved."

The sun set beyond the horizon and the glow illuminated the landscape. With the lantern lights, the campfires and the company, this is the most peaceful and happiest you've been in a long, long time.

The coolness of the evening washed over your skin and you felt free, carefree.

Not spending time worrying about money and expense statements for a single business, stressing and working non-stop every single week just to make ends meet. You're used to this, you've lived with the pressures of city life.

And being in this place? Back in the countryside and enjoying your old habits and life, brought you some type of solace and a level of contentment you never experienced.

The familiar crackle, pop of the fire as you sat around, snuggled in a quilt. The cold beer, the smores, and laughter. You breathed deep into the fresh air. It'd been so long since you'd seen so many stars in the sky. A couple nights in the city would yield nothing.

This was your heaven.

While the ladies gathered themselves and talked, you didn't feel a little lost on the side of the camp, looking up.

“Beautiful view, isn't it?” Mingi asked.

You jerked your neck in the direction of the sound. Mingi had sat next to you with a beer in hand and a curious look upon his features.

"It certainly is," you responded. "It's hard to look at the stars in the city. But this? Makes me not want to return."

He cocked his head to the side. "Surely this can't compare to your fancy job," he said.

Your shoulders raised. "Honestly? It isn't glamorous or exciting like the people might think. All I do is stare at numbers day in and day out and live for those paychecks. So the view here? Is something I missed about home."

"Ever thought about going back?" He questioned. "Thinking maybe that move was a mistake."

You let out a soft sigh. "Every single day. I'm thinking that I've made a huge mistake. Working in a place where I can be overworked and not paid what I'm really owed. I don't understand why I'm struggling in the first place, but I do know that there has to be a better option out there. But I wouldn't have met my friends if I didn't move to the city. But still, there are times when I want to go back."

He's so close to you, and in the darkness his eyes look like glitter, bright and reflecting the starlight.

You shook your head and broke out of the haze you were caught in. He leaned closer, closing in the distance and the gap between you. Your throat thickened as your skin pricked, an awareness washing over your body. His jaw works as he swallows hard and lets out a slow and hot, heavy breath. He wants, so badly, to press a sweet kiss to the corner of your lips. But he wouldn't dare ruin this, not with your friends just a few feet away.

"Then stay," Mingi murmured and lifted his head so his gaze could meet yours. The hand holding his beer shifted, and you could swear you saw his fingers move toward yours as a sweet offer. "Stay with us. I could use your help around the ranch, a woman with your skill could be the blessing I'm waiting for. Staying would give ya a chance to get out from beneath those numbers and back out here in the country. The ranch isn't far from the city so your friends could visit anytime."

The warm huff of his words breezes across your nose, and then it's his smell that surrounds you. His sweet musk and the deep earthy woodsy scent.

“You've been working on my papers so you already know how bad my books are. The ranch isn't thriving right now, not when I got these things just hangin' over me. But with a fresh pair of eyes? Maybe a new opportunity? I need your help, Y/N,” Mingi said. “In anything. Accounting, bookkeeping, the finances. Heck, if ya offered to help around the ranch, I wouldn't mind that either.”

You heard your friend's conversation still playing out, their soft, lilting laughter in the background. And Mingi's whispers as his mouth ghosted the curve of your ear. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he muttered as he leaned his head closer, his hand cupping the curve of your face, bringing your nose closer to his and leaving a short gap between your lips and his. His lips pressed against the soft pillow of yours, kissing it briefly and ever so softly.

The world faded away. All that's left is Mingi. And it's just his voice, his closeness and the way his breath touches you and ignites tiny sparks underneath your skin.

He inhaled, taking a sharp, small breath as his face inches nearer towards yours, noses nearly touching and lips barely grazing against each other, a ghost-like touch and heat, making you warm. You breathed in his musk scent, an intoxicating pull that pulled you to him. He kissed you again, soft, not seeking any kind of tongue, and you didn't dare try either.

A warm wave washed over you, this warmth of desire spreading through and the blood humming with the light contact of lips brushing lips, both pulling each other closer.

His mouth fit so perfectly against yours.

You broke away slowly and looked into Mingi's eyes, heavy lidded. Your forehead dropped to his shoulder and the soft chuckles vibrated through his chest, causing a ripple against you.

The beer was forgotten and you were only holding onto the blanket around you, you heard the hoots and hollers of your friends that jolted you out of the fantasy. That you had to snap back into reality. Your lips are on fire and there's still the warmth that he left with that sweet little touch, seared onto your skin and igniting every part of your body.

He had sat up straighter, away from you, watching from his peripheral view and knowing there were eyes trained on the pair of you. He coughed and started to drink his beer, but you've both lost that brief moment of privacy and connection you just had moments ago.

"Gonna think on it, darlin?" Mingi asked and reached over to grasp your hand and stroke a thumb over the knuckles, slow and intimate.

You couldn't breathe, and he chuckled and dropped his hand from yours. Mingi stood up and gave a brief smile, and a quick nod before tipping his cowboy hat at you. "Let me know." Then he walked towards Yunho and Seonghwa, who were eyeing him while drinking from their own bottles of beers, and slung his arms around both the ranch hands' necks. The three men laughed and walked back towards the direction of the stable.

Fuck you had it bad for Mingi. Badly. Like ridiculously fucking bad.

"Don't you even try to deny anything!" Bora pointed. "We all fucking saw that shit. You had heart eyes! Who the fuck are you and what have you done with our serious and strict workaholic friend who won't even allow herself time to enjoy the simpler life?"

"Was he a good kisser?" Jinhee asked, a genuine curiosity on her face.

"Yes," you mumble.

"Say that again? You're gonna have to speak up because even a mouse is quieter than you." Hyemi teased.

"For fuck's sake, yes he was a damn good kisser. Wouldn't you wanna be kissed by someone like him?" you let out a sigh of defeat.

Bora and Hyemi high five each other while Jinhee is cackling.

"She admitted it, pay up, girls," Hyemi held her hand out, awaiting a few large bills. She collected the money from Jinhee and Bora. "Didn't I tell you I called Y/N and her cowboy kiss?"

“Did you two do anything else? Anything kinkier than a sweet and chaste kiss?” Bora asked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

"Uh.." you didn't know how much you should admit.

"Y/N, you dirty minx," Hyemi winked and slid a drink over your way. "But I won't press you, I just hope it was satisfying and worth your time."

You took a gulp and said, "It was more than satisfying."

"Well, well, well," Bora put her elbows on the table and leaned in, pressing her hands to her chin, resting her head against them. "What's gonna happen to our best friend?"

"Who knows," you sighed, allowing the cool crispness of the alcohol burn down your throat and calm your racing heart, wondering what would happen now. How did things progress further with a simple and brief touch of the lips? "Who the hell knows."

Mingi, Yunho, and Seonghwa wandered back up the pathway, walking towards the stable to call it a day and start to head inside to meet up with the other five men that were his ranch hands and friends.

Seonghwa had a big smirk plastered on his face, tossing his hand up and patting a hand against Mingi's shoulder blade, shaking his body. "Someone's got an itchin' for a certain lil lady."

Yunho was walking alongside, listening, giving Mingi a side eye.

Mingi put up a dismissive gesture, shrugging.

"My question is," Seonghwa started. "Is this about lust or love? Huh?"

"She's not mine to claim, Seonghwa, not just yet anyway." Mingi stopped to look up at the night sky, rubbing the back of his neck with the palm of his hand and taking off his hat. He brushed it along the curve of his leg, ridding himself of dirt before he returned it.

He heard some distant squeals and yells from the girls across the yard, coming closer. A beautiful night filled with beautiful memories. "A week isn't long enough to develop feelings for a pretty girl such as herself," he commented.

"Bullshit," Wooyoung groaned and his brows knit together. He swung a strong arm at Mingi's, cussing at the man who's got the bigger body structure. "All ya do is eat, sleep, and fuck. Those feelings don't exist?"

"She's different, okay? I can't explain why, I know this is very hard to believe considering I fuck around all the time. But Y/N? Man, she knows her way around a ranch, she knows business and books and that kinda stuff," Mingi breathed deep. His eyes followed as the group walked by. "She knows about the situation with the ranch and she offered to help with the papers when I never asked her to. No strings attached and she wanted to do it because she has a heart of gold and that kindness is why she decided to. It was just for fun but she is intelligent as fuck and knows her shit when it comes to numbers. Y/N could easily kick my ass if we were on even footing. Don't even question me man, she's special."

The girls continued to move around.

Mingi closed his eyes. "I'm not looking for another fling."

"Shit, is my pansy ass cowboy boss fallin' in love?" Jongho questioned and placed his palms on his chest, a loud groan. "Love makes you weak."

Mingi tried to shrug, a smile creeping to his lips. "Haven't ever thought of feeling this way until I met Y/N. Hell, I even asked her to stay longer."

"What?!" Yunho finally spoke, eyes wide and round as he looked over to his best friend.

“Yeah, yeah,” Mingi replied. “And I wasn't kidding.”

"Are you stupid?! Have you lost your mind asking someone who's got their whole life planned back in the big city, to stay here with the likes of us? Living like this in the country,," Hongjoong raised his voice.

"You guys weren't there when she was talking about missing home. Missing her family's ranch and having that time out of the corporate bullshit she does day to day. She's lost, she knows she needs to leave but doesn't have a reason. Maybe Y/N stays for the ranch, maybe she'll stay for me," Mingi suggested, grinning. "What do I have to lose?"

"Your sanity. Everything you have is riding on that little city slicker," San joked.

"Look, you can take the girl out of the country but you can't take the country out of the girl," Mingi interjected, laughing. He turned away from the others, walking toward his house. "Who knows, if this is about a one week fling, then fine. She goes and that'll be it. But Y/N stays a little longer and she fits right in here with us, then I'll be damned if I let her go back."

"Ya'll fucked, didn't ya?" Wooyoung commented, brows furrowed.

Mingi waved him off. "Piss off, you dickheads, leavin' ya to clean the mess in the stable and tuck the horses in for the night. Don't forget to give the chickens fresh water!"

Mingi kept a smile on his face, laughing when Seonghwa scoffed and he looked over his shoulders. "And go ahead and polish the stallion's boots because I'll be sure not to leave the stallion untied!"

San chuckled, mumbling. "That's what ya'll are..."

Mingi flung his hands back, his middle fingers up high, pointing both his fingers out for his group of friends. "I can hear ya, asshole!" He gave one final wave before stepping back into his house, calling for his dogs, and closing the door.

He rested against the wooden frame, leaning his head against the entryway. He couldn't get this week out of his mind.

He didn't expect any of these events to transpire. For a girl, for a woman, for you, to make him feel so strong and alive. Mingi can't wrap his mind around it, the fluttering feeling in his chest that made him weak in the knees, whenever he's with you.

He exhales sharply and tries to close his eyes and breathe. But this time, his fantasies of you come rushing forward. He can see your beautiful body spread bare underneath his gaze, head thrown back, naked chest flushed and panting. He can see it all with clarity, and his cock gets harder thinking about it. And it makes his heart pound faster, and Mingi wants you again, badly, so so badly, but for a completely different reason. It wasn't a physical thing, not anymore.

After those events between you and him happened, everything has changed. The need for him and wanting his body has transformed. Mingi knew that somehow you felt the same way. Maybe you're the girl for him.

Mingi's body yearns for a good night's rest and he is quick to start a shower. He quickly strips and takes a hot, soothing shower, allowing the steam and water to wash over his aching muscles and body.

But he cannot shake the urge to see you, his soul cries for you, so he peeks his head out of the shower curtain. His eyes dart quickly around for any sight of his boxers, but they're nowhere to be seen. He checked and rechecked his laundry basket. Nothing, empty, nada. Mingi saw that those boxers were nowhere to be found. "Sonofabitch." He was hoping, praying that his dogs haven't gotten ahold of his boxers. Because of the teasing that'll happen with those smartass guys that work with him and him having to deal with their non-stop joking comments, that's something that'll really irritate him for an entire week. He shook his head and grumbled, a habit he had picked up from Seonghwa.

Fuck it. He quickly finished up and scrubbed his body, smelling of a soft forestry scent, and grabbed his towel from a rack in the shower to wrap it around himself. Water dripped along the toned muscles of his chest, sliding along his abs, the indents that the towel molded to. Water dribbled from his dark wet locks, splashed against the shower and floor. He was so engrossed in drying off, his legs swinging wildly to a beat as he danced and shimmied while drying his lower half, that he didn't even notice you entering his bedroom.

"Oh my god, Mingi," you hastily turned away and put a hand over your eyes. You peeked through the crack of the two fingers holding over your eyelids and Mingi couldn't help but laugh.

"You're so shy all of sudden? This is the same woman who was bouncing up and down on my dick for the world to see outside?" Mingi snorts and continues drying off his body. "Why are you here? Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"Couldn't sleep so I figured I'd help finish your paperwork, also-" you stopped. You almost blurted out that you missed the hell out of him and couldn't get him out of your mind but bit your lip and prevented yourself.

“What else? Your face is reddening up. What is it?” Mingi asked.

"Well, I, uhhh- " Your hands were clasping and wringing the hem of your pajama shirt, biting on your lower lip. The awkward silence between you was becoming so very obvious. And in the corner of your peripheral vision, you could see him shaking his head and scoffing, smirking as he reached for a pair of pajama bottoms and throwing the towel to the floor.

"If you want more, just say so." Mingi winked.

"Yeah?" you breathe. "You'll give me more?"

"Somethin' tells me that the bookkeeping stuff isn't what brought ya here in the first place." Mingi smiled as he pressed up against your body. Your chests colliding with his full and naked body. The rough texture and sturdiness of his body provides the support to your own body that is needed.

"Can we just lay in bed together instead?" You looked up with hopeful eyes and whispered against his collarbones.

"Now darlin', you don't gotta ask. If that's what makes ya happy." He threw himself on top of the covers of the bed. Gestured for you to come up beside him and welcomed the embrace with arms open, wrapping around your form. A tiny, perfect fit within his long frame. His muscular arms and legs trapping your smaller ones. You breathed a contented sigh. It felt perfect, being in his arms. "You're not gonna disappear in the morning are you?" Mingi asked.

You huffed a laugh, his fingers were stroking and kneading through your hair. "Not planning on going anywhere."

"Mmm…" his eyelids drooped as his thumb rubbed your scalp, melting into a warm state. "And if your girls are looking for you?"

"They can deal with me tomorrow. They're big girls. And I'm tired," you breathed against his bare shoulder.

"Yes ma'am. Do what you will. Although, I gotta say," he shifted, releasing your head to look at you, only for you to rest against the planes of his bare chest. You felt a few droplets of water trickle across your forehead. You both remained in comfortable silence. You heard his deep inhalation and felt his lungs expanding beneath your arms.

"This is something I'd wanna wake up to every day," he whispered and brushed some stray hairs away, his thumbs stroking your jaw, and pulling your chin up. Your lips pressed firmly against his soft, full and puffy ones. "I like you, darlin'. Real, real bad. So I'd love it if you stayed."

He pulled the blanket up, covering your shoulders. He turned to switch off his bedside lamp. And then, it was darkness that settled. Only your quiet breath could be heard, and the deep evenness of Mingi's that you matched.

"Thank you for the week, Mingi," you whispered and tipped your nose up, brushing against the soft sensitive skin under his chin, trailing soft kisses along the skin there. "Really."

Some Months Later

"Mingi...The girls are going to be here soon!" you whined as your back was plastered against the wall, arms wrapped around his neck and his legs caging you. There is the light flush of your cheeks. Lips, red and bruised. Mingi's cowboy hat placed crooked on your head.

"Don't care, baby, we have a few minutes before they're due," his raspy and growling voice had you pressing your knees closer together, fighting off a soft whimper.

"So...rude," you sighed heavily and crossed your arms, avoiding him. "At least give me time to catch my breath!"

"No, baby, want ya now," Mingi groaned out.

"God, you're fucking impatient!" you groan and giggle as his head bows and peppers soft kisses across your cheeks.

"Yer fault for looking so sexy wearing my clothes." Mingi muttered.

"It's only a t-shirt, it's comfortable, okay,” you retorted.

"Mmhm...and my hat," he whistles low. "Love seeing you wear that and nothing else."

"When my friends get here, you better behave," you warned him.

Mingi nodded eagerly, nuzzling the crook of your neck, teeth grazing your pulse and biting a mark. He wanted everyone to know you belonged to him. "Yes, ma'am. Do I ever disobey yer orders, darling?"

"Yes," you quickly responded. "So often and I hate it."

His large warm palms grazed up and down your thighs and squeezed a handful of your ass. "Now, what do you really want, darling?" He rolled his hips and gave his stiff erection a light press against the area where your thighs met, giving a sharp hiss at the contact and pressure.

"Okay. maybe, I like you disobedient," you moan. "But can we wait until later? They'll be here and I-"

"Seonghwa and the guys can help them out," Mingi nipped at your collarbone. "It's not like the girls haven't been on the ranch before."

"I guess, just a quickie, maybe?" you glance over the clock hanging near your hallway, time is running low.

"How much time do you think we got? Five minutes tops?" Mingi laughed.

"Maybe five, or less," you dropped your eyes. You just couldn't resist him. You never could.

Mingi smirked. "Have I told you how sexy you are and how I want you all the time?"

You kiss him softly. "At least a hundred times in the past week." You slipped a hand down his chest and dipped a finger into his pants. His hips jerked.

"Hey," you heard a voice and footsteps coming from the door. "Yunho wanted me to─Oh damn it," and Bora started coughing to hold back a laugh, eyeing the way you clung onto Mingi. She turned back away quickly, hollering at the others. "They're still fucking! Don't bother knocking! She can't be separated from him!"

"Sonofabitch," he groaned. "I guess not today."

"I told you we didn't have enough time!" you pull down your top and slide Mingi's hat from your head, placing it back. You roll your eyes and tussle your hands through his hair. "Behave, yeah?"

"Never," his hand is on your back and he walks with you out of the bedroom. "Baby?"

"Hmm?" you give him a quizzical look.

"I'm happy you decided to stay. This all means everything to me," he whispers softly and leans down, embracing you in a slow, tender kiss, dipping his cowboy hat at you with a wide smile once he pulls away. "Love you, darlin."

You giggled and patted his shoulders, smiling right up at him, "Love you too, sweetheart."

After another kiss, you and Mingi walked towards the others and watched as Wooyoung showed Jinhee how to feed a horse. Bora was eyeing San and asking him many questions while Seonghwa and Hyemi conversed amongst each other. Jongho and Hongjoong were busy attending to a few others who were also out for riding and your eyes fell to Yunho and Yeosang. They were busy showing other guests a couple things to make sure they were riding safely and had your brows furrowed.

As soon as Hyemi turned to her side and noticed Mingi and yourself, she rushed over with excitement, arms around you. "The ranch sure is growing fast, it's looking great here!"

"I still can't believe you decided to stay. All because of one cowboy man," Jinhee patted her hands against your arm and sighed. "But if you're happy, then I'm happy for you."

"We missed you!" Bora ran from her spot over to you and latched herself onto you, tightly gripping at you and her.

"Not too tight," you let out a small laugh. "I can barely breathe."

"Oh?" She pulled away with her brows raised, grinning widely.

"Well," your hands fell to Mingi's biceps, fingertips massaging the warm muscles. He hummed happily. "I was waiting to tell you the news."

"What news is it that you couldn't tell us over the phone?" Jinhee cocked a brow.

"Turns out," you looked up to Mingi, then glanced over at the other men around. "We're getting married and..."

You shared a brief look with Mingi. A happy gaze over one another, warmth growing. Mingi's smile broadened and the smile crinkled as his arm dropped and reached out for your stomach, feeling the smooth, tiny curve there. And the fingers that curled over your hip pulled you close, leaning his head down.

"Yeah," he breathes. "We got a new little rancher, ready to join our family."

"You're having a baby?!" Your girlfriends exclaimed in unison.

"I'm moving to the ranch now just so I can be here when the little one joins," Hyemi was hopping from foot to foot, giddy. "Do you have an extra room for me?"

“There's lots of rooms. Unless...maybe you're willing to bunk up,” Mingi said.

"I think Seonghwa's willing to bunk," you teased and gave a loud laugh.

Seonghwa lets out a laugh and comes over, his arm stretching around her, pulling Hyemi over his shoulders. His lids dropped in a lazy fashion. He let out a simple, yet attractive chuckle, "If the little lady wants."

Hyemi blinked. She gulped and slowly gave her approval with a gentle nod and her voice wavering slightly. "Yes please."

Seonghwa lets out a hissing laugh. And his expression softened, the usual blank look was washed from his face, making him look almost human and his lips quirk upwards as he gave her the friendliest smile anyone had seen on him. His brows wiggled. "I'd have you begging for me within a month."

"Excuse me, Mr. Park, you got your work cut out for you," she gives him a challenging smile. And Seonghwa tilts his head, curious at the cute remark. "Cause' I don't think you'd have to try."

Seonghwa wraps his arm around her lower back, pulling Hyemi tight against him. "I miss ya too, darlin'. Thought ya would never show yer cute face again."

You let out a laugh as you watched Hyemi's face turn rosy red in a flash and let out a squeak. You nod in her direction, your finger poking his chest and scrunch your nose playfully, "Have fun tonight, don't keep her out too late, mister. You have animals and people to take care of tomorrow."

Seonghwa smiled softly. "Yes, boss." He gives you a wink before guiding Hyemi back to his cabin, murmuring under his breath.

Mingi lifted you off the ground and gave you a twirl, followed by a long and affectionate kiss. Then his palms were splaying out across the slight protrusion in your abdomen, soothingly caressing his knuckles gently.

You saw the tender look that was on his face and your heart melted for him. His affection was so innocent and warm, and you wished he'd continue to look at you like this forever, every day, always, you were falling deeper and deeper in love with him.

Your hands gripped around his neck, fingertips curling through his dark locks. "I love you, Mingi, so much." You whisper.

Mingi set you down and he turned to see his friends smiling up at him. Yunho, Jongho and the other's were clapping softly. He was a proud father. Or, at least, soon-to-be-father and it wasn't going to change. This man and child are his and the love and adoration you give back to him is so special and Mingi's world is shining bright as you look right up at him and he would do absolutely everything for you to remain right in his arms like this.

He kissed your lips softly, chuckling softly before whispering against your mouth, "And I love you both, so fucking much, sweetheart."

#illusionnet #cromernet #wonderlandnet #kvanity #other side outlaws network #ksmutsociety #ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez stories #ateez fanfics #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez mingi #mingi #song mingi #mingi smut #mingi x reader

510 notes · View notes

aemondsbabe · 1 year ago

Text

Praise | Taunt Part 2

summary: michael has been tutoring you for weeks and the closer you get to him, the stronger your feelings seem to grow but does he feel the same way about you?

pairing: michael gavey x reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, profanity, dirty talk, breast/nipple play, teasing, degradation/dumbification, oral (f receiving), fingering, piv sex, unprotected sex (technically the reader is on birth control but it's not mentioned in this part), angst (michael is in his sad boy hours for a lil bit), creampie, light cum play, light choking, daddy kink, dom/sub vibes, discussions of mathematics, michael being a lil clueless (aw, bless) -- let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 9.8k i will not apologize, i am not sorry

a/n: i have to say, i've grown so attached to this little pairing and i hope y'all love them as much as i do!

TAUNT | Part 1

MAKING AMENDS | Bonus

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

“Fuck this,” you mutter, jaw clenched as you yank over the next page of your statistics textbook, practically ripping the page as you flip it over. You can’t help but grumble, each page of notes you flip through only adding to your foul mood as you hunch over your desk, numbers and letters swimming together in your vision. “Ugh!” You toss your pencil down, rubbing your temples as it clatters across the desk before falling to the floor.

“Oi!” Louise sits up against the pillows on your bed across the room, tugging off a headphone as she looks at you, resting her own textbook on her lap, “You doin’ alright, babe?”

“I’m gonna fail the final,” You groan, head in your hands, “I’m gonna fail it, and then fail out of Oxford, and then I’ll have to go back home and then my parents will kill me.”

“You’re not gonna fail,” she sighs, pushing herself up so her legs dangle over the bed, “You’ll be fine. You were so worried about that last quiz and you nearly got a perfect score, remember?”

You let out a petulant whine, one you’d be embarrassed about if your head wasn’t pounding, and lean back on your wooden desk chair, bleary eyes staring up at the ceiling. “That was before we started consumer mathematics,” you lament, chest heaving with a sigh, “I have no hope now.”

You can feel Louise jokingly roll her eyes behind you when she huffs out a laugh as she slips off your bed, coming to stand behind you, her face upside down as she looks down at you, a hand on her hip. “Why don’t you just text Michael? I thought he’s been helping you.”

Just hearing his name makes your heart feel funny in your chest and you sigh, sitting back up before turning to look at your friend, “It’s…complicated.” Inwardly, you can’t help but cringe at yourself; the situation is anything but complicated and yet it somehow feels impossible.

“Explain,” Louise commands, leaning back against your desk with her arms crossed across her chest. She laughs when you groan, pushing your shoulders back from where you’ve curled in on yourself, forcing you to look at her, “Babe, I love you, but it’s Michael Gavey. How on Earth is that man ‘complicated?’” She asks, cocking her hip as she does air quotes with her hands.

“Because I like him!” You blurt out after a second, hiding your face in your hands, “I like him and I don’t think he likes me and every damn time we study, we just end up fucking and I can’t keep fucking him because I like him!” The words rush out of you before you have time to think about them, your whole body deflating like a balloon as you release weeks worth of tension.

Your head snaps up in shock when Louise giggles, your mouth hanging open even as the corners of your lips threaten to quirk up into a smile. “How dare you!” You admonish, playfully slapping at her hip, “I’m pouring my heart out to you and you laugh!”

“Sorry, sorry!” She shakes her head, breathily laughing as she tries to get herself under control, “I’m sorry! I just…what do you mean he doesn’t like you? That man is in love.”

“What?” Your eyes narrow as you stare up at her, “How do you know? I’ve tried flirting with him and he doesn’t ever seem to respond to it.”

At this, Louise shakes her head and shoots you a concerned look, “I don’t think he’s the type to get flirting, hon.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you honestly think anyone has ever flirted with him?” Louise asks, giving you a pointed look, “I don’t have anything against the guy, but come on. You’re gonna have to hit him over the head with it.”

“Yeah, okay,” you acquiesce; in your weeks of getting to know Michael, you’d learned that while he wasn’t clueless, he was definitely not as experienced as he had first appeared, “That still doesn’t mean he likes me, though.” You point out, raising an eyebrow at your friend.

“Do you really not see the way he looks at you?” She smirks, “I’ve said two words to the man but, trust me, he is smitten, babe.”

You look away, biting at your bottom lip as you think over what she had to say. Your eyes scan over the surface of your desk, unfocused, as thoughts bounce around your head. Louise simply pats your shoulder before going back to your bed, resting on her stomach as she resumes reading through her book.

You’re quiet for a moment before your eyes land on your phone, sitting temptingly on the corner of your desk. You glance back and forth between it and the still-opened textbook in front of you, frustration rising in your chest once again at the mere sight of the various formulas on the pages. Finally, with a sigh, you grab your phone and flip it open, quickly scrolling to Michael’s contact.

“U busy now?” You text quickly, pressing send before you have a chance to second guess yourself before setting the phone down quickly, practically dropping it on the desk as if it were burning you.

Not even a minute later, although it feels like an eternity, it vibrates. You hesitate for a second, tempted to just slog your way through this chapter on your own. Finally, you sigh and reach for your phone, not wanting to sacrifice your newly-improved grade or your situationship with Michael.

“In my room. Why?” He replies, always concise and to the point.

“Need help w the new chap,” you type, biting your lip as you shuffle through letters on the small keyboard, “Can I come over?”

“Sure, see you soon.” His reply comes quickly, making your heart race.

With a nervous sigh, you push yourself up from your chair, groaning as you take a second to stretch before striding over to your small dresser. “I’m going to his,” you say, glancing over at Louise, “I’m officially waving the white flag on this chapter.”

“Wear lingerie!” She says quickly, practically skipping over to you and leaning against the wall next to you.

“What?” You laugh, shooting her a questioning look, “Why would I do that?”

“Duh!” She huffs with an eye roll, “Put in some effort to fuck him and it might help get the message across.”

“How do you know we’ve been–”

“Your room is right next to mine,” she points out, looking at you tiredly, “And the walls in this ancient building are thin as paper. Come on.”

“Okay, okay,” you put your hands up in surrender with a laugh before pulling open your underwear drawer; as convoluted as Louise’s plan was, you couldn’t exactly see a downside to fancying up a little, “Any suggestions?”

“Hmm,” she hums, shuffling through the small pile of fancy lace you had shoved in the corner of the drawer, “Ooh, these!” She chimes victoriously, holding up a lacy bra, “This color always looks so good on you, you’ll make his head explode.”

With a nod, you grab the bra and matching underwear from her, “If this doesn’t help, I will be holding you personally accountable.” You laugh, seeing her politely turn away from you in the corner of your eye as you begin pulling your clothes off.

“I mean, it is still on you to actually say something,” she chuckles, peering out the window as she waits for you to change, “Honestly, if it was me, I would’a locked that shit down ages ago. The sounds I hear coming from this room…” She jokes, shaking her head.

“Sounds?” You ask, your face flushing as you hurriedly clasp the thin bra behind your back, “You can hear us?”

“You two are not nearly as sneaky as you think,” she laughs, “I mean, who would’ve thought that little nerd had it in him?”

“He has hooked up with people,” you defend, pulling on a t-shirt and skirt, short enough that you knew it would make the blond’s head spin, “He’s not totally helpless.”

“Hookups are different than boyfriend dick,” Louise points out, shuffling back on your bed until her back was resting against the wall next to it, “And based on all the screams I hear from you, Michael has boyfriend dick.”

With a laugh, you roll your eyes, not even bothering to question her as you shove your things into your backpack. Sitting down at your desk chair, you pull your small mirror over and give your hair and makeup one last look over, glancing back at Louise as she continues, “I mean, come off it, babes. You don’t even make those noises by yourself.”

“You can hear me?!” You squeak out, whipping your head around.

“The walls are paper thin!” She laughs, “I’m sure you can hear me too, and everyone else. You honestly think that doesn’t go both ways?”

“Ha ha,” you say dryly, slipping on your shoes before standing and grabbing your keys from the small hook next to the door of your room, “I’m going, can you lock my door when you leave?”

“Yup!” Louise chirps, not bothering to look up from her phone as she waves you off, “Go get that nerd dick!”

With a sigh and an eye roll, you pull your door closed.

You make it to Michael’s in record time and pause in front of his door, giving yourself a minute to calm down before you nervously knock.

Almost instantly, the door swings open. The thought that he might’ve been perched next to it, waiting for you to show up, makes your chest squeeze as you murmur a hello.

“Hiya, pretty.” He says lowly as you move past him, closing the door and watching as you dump your backpack by his bed. His room wasn’t much different than most other guy’s dorms you’d been in – sparsely decorated with only the essentials, although you did appreciate the posters and pictures Michael had hanging up. There were all sorts of different ones pinned to the dark wooden walls, from bands he liked to small polaroids of his pets from home. Every time you were here, though, your heart couldn’t help but hurt a little as you never saw pictures similar to some of the ones you had up – ones with friends.

“Needed some help from little old me?” He teases.

“Yes, oh my God!” You sigh, your dramatics making him crack a smile as he takes a seat at his desk, “This new chapter is doing my head in!”

“Alright, alright love,” he murmurs, signature smirk poised on his lips as his blue eyes peer at you from behind his glasses, “Get your things, I’ll see if I can help.”

With a nod, you pull your notebook from your backpack as he turns to the chapter in his own textbook. As you move, you can’t help but glance at him from the corner of your eye, taking in everything from the dark red t-shirt he wore, complete with a cheesy maths pun on the front, to how ruffled his golden hair was, like he’d just woken up from a nap. Maybe the light was playing tricks on you, but you swore you saw him glance over at you a time or two too.

“Haven’t heard much from you this week,” you start, pulling up the extra chair he kept in a corner of his dorm room, “How’ve you been? Oh! And how did that paper for your calculus class turn out?” You ask, glancing at him as you flip through the pages of your notebook, looking for where you’d left off.

“Oh, yeah,” he clears his throat, leaning an elbow on his desk, “The paper was great, actually. Thank you for your help by the way,” his lips curve up in a sheepish grin, “I’ve always been a bit shit at writing.”

“Yeah, no problem,” try to ignore the way your stomach twists at his gratitude, “I’ve always been shit at maths so it works out.” You joke, pride filling your chest when he chuckles. The longer you’d spent working with Michael, the more comfortable the two of you became, and slowly but surely he’d let his guard down. He was still the same cocky, downright arrogant prick in class but when it was just the two of you, you couldn’t help but notice that he’d grown…softer. Those sharp, taunting edges of his had been smoothed a little, sanded down by jokes he shared with you rather than sarcastic jabs directed at you.

“Mmm,” he hummed, those blue eyes you’d grown so enamored with sparkling with mirth, like he was always just one step ahead of you, “Don’t sell yourself short, baby. You’ve improved a lot,” your cheeks flush and the butterflies in your stomach roar to life, whirling around wildly at the simple compliment, “Not nearly as much of a dummy as you were a few weeks ago, yeah?” He finishes, lips tugged up in a viciously smug smile as he watches the way your eyes grow wide, the way the pink hues making their home on the apples of your cheeks bloom ever brighter, extending almost all the way to your neck.

“Michael,” your voice is hoarse as you croak his name, desperately willing your mind to stay on track, “C-Can we focus on the notes, please? I really do need help, I mean maybe later we can–”

“Don’t get yourself in a tizzy,” he says, blessedly cutting off your nervous babbling, “What’s giving you problems, pretty?”

“Uhh,” you fumble, kicking yourself internally as you scramble to reset your brain, “The stuff we went over last week,” you flip through your notes, finally pointing your pen at the hastily scribbled notes you’d taken in class, “The monthly investment stuff; I guess the formula Professor Davies went over just seems really complicated to me. Like, I was having a really hard time following it in class with the way he was explaining it.”

Michael nods his head as he listens, his eyes quickly scanning over your notes before flitting to the accompanying pages in his nextbook as he lets out a sigh. “Ahh, okay,” his fingers brush over yours as he takes your pen, once again sending your mind into a flurry as you blink, desperately trying to clear the fog that seemed so determined to invade your brain, “So, remember the compound interest formula we went over earlier?”

You nod as he peers over at you, admittedly only halfway listening as your heart hammers in your chest. “Uhm, y-yeah,” you nearly whisper before clearing your throat, “Yeah.” You nod once more, trying to keep your voice steady as you watch him scrawl notes on your paper; your eyes glaze over as you observe the way his long fingers hold your pen, making it all too easy to imagine those same fingers sliding into your mouth and holding your tongue down as he whispers filthy things into your ear, skirting their way into your underwear and curling just right against –

“It works similarly,” Michael continues, hunched over the textbook as he copies down a sample problem, “So, the monthly investment formula is basically just the yearly salary over twelve months. I think the formula is getting to you, but it’s not really that complicated in practice.”

You nod your head dutifully, his voice sounding muffled to your ears as your thoughts continue spiraling, lewd thoughts of his fingers and cock playing like a video on the backs of your eyes. He hands the pen back to you as he finishes copying down the question, gazing at you expectantly as you look over the problem.

“Okay, so, uhm,” you stammer, eyes desperately scanning over the page as if the answer will magically reveal itself to you, “So…you’d divide these…?” You ask timidly, already knowing you’re wrong.

“You aren’t paying attention at all, love,” he says, not even needing to question it as he shakes his head in mock disappointment, “What’s going on in that pretty head, hm? What got you so distracted?” He rasps, one hand moving up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, even that simple action damn near causing you to whimper.

“I don't,” you swallow, mouth dry as your eyes flutter shut for a half second before reluctantly meeting his, heart pounding wildly in your chest as the smirk on his face makes a graceful reappearance when he sees the glazed over, near empty look on your face, “I don’t know.” You finish finally, voice breathy despite your best efforts.

“Hmm,” he hums again, trailing that hand down your neck and the side of your arm before finally letting it rest atop the thigh closest to him, his touch practically burning your skin, “I think I have a pretty good idea of what’s taken over that empty fuckin’ head.”

Before you even have a chance to reply, his hands are on your hips. He firmly pulls you into his lap, lithe frame disguising his true strength as he settles you atop his thighs.

“Michael, I–”

“Hush,” he commands softly, warm hands skirting over your waist as he tugs you back into him, your back pressing into the familiar expanse of his chest once again, “I know exactly how to help, pretty girl.” He whispers, his breath fanning over your cheek before he presses a light kiss there, trailing them down over the side of your neck as his hands slip under the bottom of your t-shirt. His touch makes shivers cascade down your spine as you feel his hands ghost over your stomach before they cup your breasts; he lets out a pleased hum when he feels the delicate lace of your bra, which does nothing to hide your already pebbled nipples as they press against the palms of his hands.

“I think,” he continues, chuckling darkly when he already hears small whines escaping past your lips as he continues massaging your breasts, “You need that wet little cunt played with, hm? I know she’s already dripping, pretty.” His voice is rough as he speaks, his hips grinding up into you, making you mewl on his lap as you feel his cock already poking against you even through the jeans he wears.

“P-Please,” you whine brokenly, embarrassed to already be reduced to such a state, “Please, Michael, I need…fuck, I need something, anything, please!” You’re used to begging for him by now, the two of you have hooked up enough over the past few weeks that you know he loves how whimpery and desperate you get, loves to hear the little hitch in your voice when you beg and plead with him so.

“Not Michael,” he grunts, roughly pinching at your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra, just enough to make you cry out and squirm on his lap, “Try again.”

“Oh–,” you gasp, unable to stop the way your hips desperately wriggle on his lap, tantalized by the feel of him, even through all the layers of clothing between you, “Sir! Sir, please!”

He huffs out a laugh, low and raspy in your ear as he trails one hand up, poking it through the collar of your shirt to wrap it lightly around your throat – not enough to choke you, but just enough to remind you of your place. “Someone must be feeling extra stupid today, hm? Haven’t been sir in weeks, love, you know that.”

A hungry whine claws its way past your lips as your head tilts back onto his shoulder, your eyes squeezing shut as your cheeks heat up, trembling in his lap. This has been his favorite part, experimenting with that one little name it takes so much for you to say. It’s funny really, eventually he’d admitted to only hearing it in a porno, not something he could attribute to his string of experiences with one night stands. You’d just been the first person he’d been intrigued about enough to try it on; he was hooked the moment he saw your reaction and had slowly worked it into your little routine, requiring you to day it, to beg him so prettily with it, before he’d ever give you what you wanted.

“Come on now,” he groans, the movements of your hips finally getting to him, “Tell me what I want to hear and I’ll keep this precious cunt occupied so that that little head can work properly.” His hand abandons your breast, a laugh rumbling through him at your cries as he trails it up one thigh, slipping it under the bottom of your skirt.

“Daddy!” You finally blurt out, the ache in your core finally growing too big for you to keep denying, “Please, daddy, please, just… fuck, just do something!”

“Shh, shh, babygirl,” he coos, half laughing as he slips his hand up under your skirt, cupping your throbbing center over the thin lace of your panties, groaning when he feels how hot and wet you are under his touch, “No wonder you can’t think straight, hm? So messy.”

You whimper helplessly in his lap, hands scrabbling before they tightly cling to the forearm he has halfway under your skirt. “Oh, fuck,” you breathe heavily, head swimming as his fingers press down on your aching clit before circling the bud slowly, the lace of your underwear only adding to the fire building within you, “Oh, my God!”

Michael grunts lowly into your ear as he twirls his fingers against you, nipping at your neck as he rocks against you from below. “Here’s how this is gonna go, love,” he whispers lowly, speeding up the movements of his long fingers against you, “If you can get the formula right, you can come…”

“Wha–!” You splutter, your chest already heaving as you struggle to catch your breath, nails digging into his forearm as you feel the knot in your stomach already beginning to tighten; Michael had made it his mission over the last few weeks to learn every little thing that made you tick, and Christ, if he wasn’t a fast learner, “T-That’s not–”

“If you can’t get it right,” he continues, smirking against your cheek as he presses his fingers ever tighter into the column of your throat, “Then I’ll just keep edging and edging you until I’ve gotten my fill of those precious fucking noises you make, hm?”

You struggle in his hold, not getting very far as his touch has already reduced your muscles to jelly. Your hips keep rutting up into his fingers despite your feeble attempts to stop yourself, knowing he absolutely means to make good on his threats. With a defeated whine, you let your head loll to the side on his shoulder, burying your face against the pale expanse of his neck. Squeezing your eyes shut, you breathe in his now-familiar scent, although that only serves to put you more on edge.

Michael suddenly moves, sitting up straighter in his desk chair and bringing you with him, causing you to yelp a bit. He keeps a steady hold on you as he leans forward, his fingers never ceasing their circular movements on your aching clit as he tilts you forward, angling your head so you’re once again face-to-face with the textbook and notes still laid out on the desk.

“Now,” he starts, resting his chin on your shoulder as his eyes scan over the pages in front of you both, seemingly wholly unbothered with your current state, “What’s the first step?”

You can feel your eyes stinging with unshed tears as you blearily look over the paper, your eyes not really focusing on anything as you feel the knot in your stomach pull tighter and tighter with each movement of his hands against you.

“M-Michael, I–” Your voice sticks in your throat, your hips moving entirely of their own accord in his lap as your walls clench desperately around nothing, that familiar growing ache nearly taking over your entire center as your breath hitches.

“Ooh,” he murmurs with saccharine sympathy, quickly pulling his fingers from you just before you fall over the edge; you can feel him smirking wickedly against your cheek as you twitch against him, letting out mournful little whines, “That was a close one, wasn’t it, pretty girl?”

The room feels as if it’s spinning as you come down from your almost-high, your walls throbbing as low cries slip past your lips. “F-Fuck…” you sigh hoarsly, hips still pathetically twitching against his jean-clad lap.

“I know you know this,” his breath is warm against your cheek as he angles his head toward yours, blond hair tickling the side of your face as he peers at you from behind his glasses, “Be a good fucking girl and tell me which step is first and I’ll touch you again.”

Your eyes frantically scan over the problem as you will yourself to remember something, anything, from one of Professor Davies’s lectures last week, your hands abandoning Michael’s forearm to white-knuckle the edge of his desk instead as you try to steady yourself.

“Y-You, uhm, you multiply,” you start, swallowing heavily as something finally seems to click together in your brain, “You multiply the exponents, daddy.”

You practically preen under his touch as you feel more so than hear the pleased hum he lets out. “Very good,” he drawls slowly, pressing soft kisses against your cheek, “See? I knew there was something going on in that head of yours.” You know he’s taunting you on purpose, pulling out every trick he knows will make you blush, though you can’t bring yourself to care as you feel your heart soar with his praises.

A loud moan tumbles past your lips as he resumes touching you, his fingers once again teasing your clit through the thin fabric of your panties, the aching bud now all the more sensitive to his touches after you were denied an orgasm. You nearly double over on his lap as pleasure immediately zings up your spine, your muscles tensing in his hold.

His hand abandons your throat and pulls out from under your shirt completely as he reaches for your pen and quickly scribbles down the first step of the formula, easily multiplying the numbers in his head before setting your pen back down.

“Now then, what’s next, love?” He chuckles meanly against your cheek as you whine. He groans appreciatively as he feels your arousal leaking into your panties, soaking the fabric against his fingers while his other hand comes up to cup your breast over your shirt, feeling your aching nipple pressing against his hand even through the fabric.

This game continues for what feels like an eternity, his fingers delicately teasing you right up to your breaking point before he cruelly yanks his hand away as he quizzes you again and again until you slowly but surely work your way through each step of the problem.

You’re a sweaty mess on his lap now, skin damp and flushed as he pulls his hand away for what must be the hundredth time, although in reality it’s only the fifth. You let out a feeble whine, long past begging and pleading as you know it won’t do any good.

“You’re so close,” he teases, chuckling to himself at the double meaning of his words, “Just need to solve it now, pretty baby. The sooner you do, the sooner I’ll make you come.” He promises, patting his fingers over the soaked patch on your panties just enough to make you jump.

“D-Daddy, please!” You sniffle, no longer trying to reign in the tears streaming down your cheeks as your center aches and clenches, empty, “Please, I need–”

“You need to answer the fucking question,” he grunts through clenched teeth, one hand still cupping your spasming center while the other shoots up to your neck, angling your head toward the paper once more, “You asked me for help, love. And I’d say this is helping; looks like that empty little brain is able to recall information after all.” He teases, smirking cruelly as he ruts against your ass, taunting you with his hard length yet again. “Come on,” he continues, urging you on, “You’re doing so, so well for daddy. Just need the last little bit.”

Your head spins as you look at the paper and you halfway wonder if your fingers have made intents in the wood of his desk yet, “It’s, it’s the yearly salary,” you say quickly, voice high-pitched and breathy, “T-The yearly salary over twelve, fuck, m-months.” You rush out, squeezing your eyes shut.

Somehow, more blood seems to rush to your cheeks as he gasps in fake surprise, really laying it on thick for you. “Oh, what a good girl!” He praises, arms wrapping around you tightly as you squirm in his hold, his warm body pressing against yours only making your need greater, “I knew you could do it, that’s right, love!”

Quickly, he multiplies the numbers you indicated, mumbling under his breath as he quickly thinks through the equation. A few seconds later, you hear your pen moving against the paper as he scribbles down your answer, circling it with an over-done flourish.

“You’ve done it!” He coos happily, pressing kiss after kiss to the side of your cheek, trailing them down your jaw and neck, “You want your prize now?” He asks lowly, trailing his hand back up your thigh slowly, fingers just barely skimming over your throbbing center.

All at once, you seem to come back to yourself as the fog lifts momentarily behind your eyes as your desperation drives you. You nod your head frantically as you turn on his lap, finally facing him and relishing the sweet, proud smile spread across his lps.

“Please, Michael, daddy,” you ramble, pressing kisses against his cheeks and neck before he finally angles his head and catches your lips with his; the two of you sigh into the kiss, yours morphing into a desperate whine as you press your chest against his, shivering as your nipples peak from the warmth of his body alone. His tongue licks along your lower lip before he gently nips at it, chuckling as you mewl into his mouth as his tongue meets yours. You kiss him frantically, sighing happily when he delicately sucks your tongue into his mouth before you pull away with a whimper. “Please, please, I need it,” you murmur against his lips, clinging to his shoulders, “I can’t wait any longer, please!”

He shushes you with a soft laugh, hands skimming over your waist. “D’you want my mouth or my fingers, pretty girl?” He mutters softly, holding you steady on his lap.

“Mouth!” You answer instantly, making him chuckle at your desperation, “Please, please!”

“On the bed,” he commands, giving you one last kiss before pushing you up, helping to steady your shaky legs, “Good girl.” He praises again, patting your ass teasingly when you finally steady yourself enough to cross the room, stopping to kick off your shoes quickly before sitting yourself down on the bed.

Michael follows after you, smirking as he kneels on the bed, one foot still on the floor. He smiles and cups both of your cheeks, kissing you once more like he can’t get enough. “You, pretty girl, are very overdressed,” He drawls, waiting for your subtle nod before pulling your shirt up and over your head, tossing it to the floor by the bed. “Holy…” his eyes are wide as he stares at your chest, taking in the way the delicate lace perfectly cups your breasts, nipples visible through the thin material, already hardened from his earlier ministrations.

Upon seeing his reaction, you get bold. Smirking, you pull up your skirt, spreading your legs as you draw your knees up to your chest, giving him a perfect view of your matching panties; the lace, long since soaked through with your arousal, practically glimmers in the low lamp-light of his room.

“Fuck,” he whispers, one hand adjusting his hard length, straining against his jeans as his blue eyes sweep over you, taking in every flawless inch, “To what do I owe the honor, hm?” He finally collects himself, smirking again as he reaches out to lightly skim a finger over the soft silk of one strap of your bra. He’s never seen you in something this nice, and certainly never a matching set, the sight of the soft lace against your skin would be enough to make him finish in his jeans if he weren’t careful.

“Wanted to wear something special for you…” You say with a small shrug, heat rising to your cheeks once again as you look up at him shyly through your lashes.

He tilts his head to the side, clearly not picking up on the deeper meaning behind your words as he squints his eyes at you, confused. “Why…why would you wanna wear something special for me, love?” He questions softly, his voice coming out more as a breath than words.

“Michael,” you sigh, squirming under his affectionate gaze as you gather every ounce of confidence in your body. You swallow as your eyes dart between his, your heart quickly speeding up in your chest; you take a deep breath, Louise’s words echoing in your head, “I…I really like you.” You say simply, carefully watching his reaction.

“You…do?” He asks slowly, eyebrows shooting up in surprise, his eyes widening as he watches you nod with a shy smile. “Why me?” His voice is smaller this time, his whole body seeming to deflate as he sits back on the edge of his bed, shoulders slumped as one foot still rests against the wooden floor.

“Why wouldn’t I like you?” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, head cocking to the side as you move closer to him, placing a hand on his knee.

He sighs heavily, glancing up at you before looking down to where your hand rests on his leg, “No one really does.” He finally sighs, his eyes downcast.

Without thinking, you move closer to him, pressing yourself against him as you practically climb into his lap. This time, it’s your turn to gently cup his cheeks, your thumbs resting just under the gold rims of his glasses as you angle his head toward you. “I do,” you say softly before frowning a bit, pulling away just an inch, “Do…do you not feel the same way?”

“No!” He says quickly, shaking his head as he grabs at you, pulling you back toward him, “I mean yes! I mean,” he sighs frustratedly, running a hand through his hair as he swallows heavily, “I do like you, I– Fuck, I don’t know who I’m kidding, I’ve never liked anyone this much,” he says softly, smiling as he watches your eyes grow wide, “I just…never thought a girl like you would want much to do with me.”

“What does that mean?” You whisper, heart hammering so hard in your chest you’re sure he can hear it with as little distance as there is between the two of you.

“I…,” he pauses, chuckling bitterly, “I guess I always assumed you’d wind up with Catton or…or one of his little minions. Everyone does.”

“Everyone?”

He tilts his head up to stare at the ceiling for a second, like he’s willing himself to tell you some deep, dark secret. Finally, he fixes his gaze on you again, one hand fiddling with the seam at the bottom of your skirt. “He was my friend once,” he begins, his voice soft and uncertain, “I don’t think I ever meant much to him, he just took me in as some charity case. To help the weirdo loner boy, I guess.”

You stay silent as he pauses, watching him carefully as he speaks. The corners of his mouth twitch before finally dropping into a frown, his eyebrows pulling together as if he were in pain.

“I don’t know what happened in the end, to be honest,” he continues, blinking his eyes as he shuffles through memories, “I think maybe I wasn’t falling in line enough – I didn’t just blindly follow him like the others. He must’ve gotten tired of it cause one day I got to school and everyone just acted as if I wasn’t there, even mates I’d had before. They all just got pulled into his orbit and left me.”

“Michael…” you coo softly, thumbs lightly brushing over his cheeks.

“And then, one night I went to the pub with– with Oliver.” He practically spits his name, nose twitching with anger.

“Oliver?” You question, the name ringing a bell as your eyes narrow, trying to picture his face, “Oliver Quick, you mean?”

He nods, eyes flitting around his room before they settle on you again. “He was my friend…I thought he was anyway. Way back at the start of term,” he sighs, lips pulling up in a sardonic smile, “We went to the pub one evening to celebrate finally finishing some paper or whatever, and…you were there.”

“I was?” You pull back from him a fraction of an inch in shock, your eyes flitting over his face.

“Mhm,” he hums, nodding his head, “Sitting at a table with Catton and all the rest of the cunts.”

“Felix and I were never that close Mich–”

“And I got up to get another pint and when I got back…he was gone.” He continued, huffing out a bitter laugh.

“Oliver?”

“Yep,” he nods, hands gripping your waist more firmly as if he’s trying to anchor you to him, “He’d gone to sit with you lot and never so much as looked my way again. Then, once Professor Davies’s class started, I…Fuck, I liked you from the minute you walked through the door on the first day, love.”

“You did?” You smile at his confession, thinking back to all those months ago.

He hums again, resting his forehead on your shoulder as he buries his face in your neck, glasses smushed against his cheek, “‘N then I realized where I knew you from and I…lost hope. Got jealous. Doesn’t matter I just…I was so determined not to like you.”

“But…you do?”

He hums again, nodding against your cheek, “I remember kicking myself when I agreed to tutor you,” he laughs, breath fanning over your neck and collarbone, “But you’re really not like them, hm?”

You shake your head emphatically, holding him tighter to you as if that will somehow better prove your point, “I’m not.” You say simply, pressing a kiss to the side of his head.

The two of you stay silent for a moment before Michael’s shoulders start shaking a little; you pull back a bit, worried that he’s upset until you see he’s laughing, gazing at you as if you were some ethereal being. “I cannot believe you fucking like me,” he laughs, damn near giggling, “No one bloody likes me.”

You can’t help but laugh with him, leaning your forehead against his. “Well, fuck them,” you say firmly with a cheeky grin, “I like you enough for every damn idiot in this school.”

The two of you laugh together for another moment before you feel that familiar heat building in your belly again, never able to stave it off very long when you’re in his presence. Michael must feel it too, one second you’re laughing with him and the next his fingers are threading through the hair at the back of your head and pulling you in for a hard kiss, pressing his lips desperately against yours as if he’s trying to prove to himself you won’t disappear. You whimper softly as his tongue licks into your mouth, swallowing his groans as you move your lips fluidly against his before he pulls away quickly.

“Gotta fucking taste you, love,” he whispers roughly, hands blindly searching for the clasp of your bra. You feel it pop open a moment later, a low, victorious hum sounding from his chest as he finally pulls it off, tossing it off the bed to land next to your shirt, “Fuck, I love these tits.” He groans hotly, quickly kissing down your shoulder and chest before taking a pert nipple into his mouth, making you gasp loudly.

“Oh, fuck!” You moan, eyes squeezing shut as you finally feel his mouth on you, head spinning at the way his tongue teases over your sensitive nipple before he sucks it into his hot mouth, “Michael, please, need it!” You whine pitifully, rutting yourself down on his thigh.

He guides you back gently, coaxing you to lay down on his bed as his hands push up under your short skirt once more to quickly pull your panties down, tossing them over his shoulder. “Not Michael, baby, remember?” He asks teasingly, pushing your thighs up and hooking his hands behind your knees.

He guides your knees up and up until your knees are pressed against your chest, all the while pressing soft kisses to the backs of your thighs as he peers up at you over his gold-rimmed glasses, strands of blond hair resting against his forehead.

“Please, daddy!” You correct yourself quickly, not wanting to take any chances of him teasing you further. You wiggle your hips in his grasp, making him chuckle lowly as he presses kisses closer and closer to where you want him. Giggling, damn near giddy with the excitement of having his mouth on you, you reach down and gently pull his glasses off and reach up to set them on the small table beside his bed.

“Shh, you’ll get it,” he promises, breath hot against your slick folds as he uses his thumbs to spread you apart, groaning appreciatively when he sees how wet you are, how your pussy clenches tightly around nothing, “You earned it, my love.”

The pet name sends you into a tailspin almost as much as the feeling of his warm tongue pressing against your clit does. You let out a long, satisfied moan at the feeling of it, arching your hips up into his mouth.

His groan of satisfaction vibrates through you, only adding to the sensations of his lips and tongue on your aching center. “Fucking hell,” he mumbles, releasing his hold on one thigh to run two long fingers through your slick, gathering it as he teases your entrance, “It’s been far too long.” He groans, speaking more to your throbbing core than you, the thought sending another zap of pleasure swirling up your spine.

“It’s been, like, a week!” Your giggle turns into a breathy moan as he kisses your clit, gently suckling it between his lips as he carefully slips two fingers into you, immediately crooking them up against the spot that he knows will drive you wild.

“Too long,” he grunts into your folds, tongue sweeping over the length of you before he teases it at your clit. “Fuck, if I could eat this sweet little cunt every day, I would.”

Your eyes roll back in your head and your back arches as he feasts on you, shaking his head back and forth to bury his face further into your heat. He growls into you as he licks into your entrance, removing his fingers for a moment to fuck his tongue into you, savoring your sweet taste while the tip of his nose rubs perfectly over your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, oh, fuck,” you gasp, body jerking and twitching as pleasure floods through you, the knot in your stomach growing dangerously tight at just a few touches, “D-Daddy, I’m— oh, fuck!” You cry, arching your back as he slips his fingers into you, expertly fucking and curling them against that rough patch within you, making stars dance behind your eyelids.

“Y’getting close?” Michael murmurs around your clit, sucking it into his mouth and laving his tongue over it before letting it slip from his lips with a wet pop, “S’okay, my love, come on. You don’t need to ask for it, baby girl, you’ve earned it, just come.” He coaxes, slipping a third finger in beside the first two and grinning when he hears you cry out at the added stretch.

You breathe heavily, chest heaving as you pant, wanton whimpers and whines spilling past your lips as your fingers weave into his golden hair. Michael’s eyes roll back in his head at the feeling, so pleased with himself that he can make you feel this good, that he can pull these sounds from you that he groans, long and low, into your cunt as he licks and sucks at your folds, flicking his tongue over your swollen bud.

“Can feel you getting tight, pretty girl,” his lips move against your clit as he speaks, “This sweet cunt wants to milk daddy’s fingers, doesn’t she? Fucking let her, baby, come on.”

The knot inside your belly implodes on itself as your body loses all sense of rhythm, every muscle contracting and relaxing as waves of pleasure finally wash over you. You can feel your walls pulsing around Michael’s fingers as your high consumes you, a garbled moan of his name leaving your lips as you shake against him.

He doesn’t let up, digits pressing tightly against the spot inside you as he lewdly spits onto your cunt, loudly slurping it up as he continues to fuck you with his fingers, sucking your still-pulsing bud into his mouth as he does.

“T-Too much!” You whimper, squirming in his hold as you feel yet another high quickly building within you, “Michael, d-daddy, please!”

“Hush,” he huffs, speeding up his movements enough to make you squeal as tears spring to your eyes, “You know what I want, baby girl, give it to me, let yourself have it.”

You grunt loudly as another wave consumes you, your eyes tightly squeezing shut when you feel yourself contracting around his thick fingers yet again. You’re so lost within yourself, you barely hear the slick, sloshing sounds emanating from your heat, but you certainly hear the deep, proud moan that Michael lets out, eyes widening as he watches your cunt squirt around his fingers, droplets wetting his wrist and the sheets on his bed.

You’re practically sobbing by the time he slows his fingers to a stop and gingerly pulls his fingers from you, shushing you gently when you whimper. “What a good girl,” he says softly, noisily licking his fingers clean of the evidence of your release, “Did so good for me, baby.”

The soft praises help you come back to yourself, brain returning to your body in just enough time to get a glimpse of Michael’s face before he buries it in your neck, a blush creeping across your cheeks from the shine of your release on his lips and chin.

“Thank you.” You whisper tiredly, eyes slipping shut as he presses kisses to your neck and jaw.

He laughs softly, leaning on his side next to you, one hand tracing up and down your body as he looks you over. “You wanna keep going or did I wear you out?”

You keep your eyes shut even as a playful smile slinks across your lips, a small giggle slipping past your lips as you wiggle your hips enticingly, making him chuckle with you.

The bed shifts suddenly, causing you to peek one eye open. “There she is,” Michael laughs when you open both eyes fully, watching as he quickly pulls his t-shirt over his head, throwing it to the floor to join yours. He stays on his knees as he unbuttons his jeans, giving you plenty of time to take in his pale chest and stomach, covered in a light wash of blond hair that tapers off to a trail, disappearing beneath the denim around his slender waist, “Want my cock, baby?” He asks, leaning back down beside you as he kicks off his jeans and boxers, cock springing out and resting hotly against your thigh.

Biting your lip, you can’t help but reach down and stroke him gently, a soft sigh leaving you at the sight of his perfect length. Michael grunts next to you, his head tilting back ever so slightly as he finally feels some stimulation on his cock. The delicate sound makes your heart race, knowing you could bring him such pleasure from such a simple touch. A blush blooms on your cheeks as you gaze up at him through your lashes, eyes wide as you smirk and wiggle your hips enticingly.

He smiles at you, eyes sweeping over your form admiringly, before finally meeting your eyes, slightly squinting as he looks at you without his glasses.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” He teases, chuckling as you nod eagerly and tuck your behind your knees, holding your legs up to your chest as your skirt looks around your middle. He leans in and kisses you softly, a certain emotion behind his movements that hasn’t ever been there before. He keeps you close as he moves, never taking his lips off of yours while he maneuvers himself on top of you, slotting himself between your thighs with a pleased exhale.

Your back arches as you feel him slide his cock between your folds, the head slipping perfectly against your clit. You grasp onto his shoulders to anchor yourself, mewling into his mouth as his hands grab onto the backs of your knees once more, holding you open for him. His lips trail down your jaw and neck, stopping to nip lightly at your skin, before continuing downward to your breasts. He licks and kisses over each one, paying special attention to your nipples and laughing softly at the cacophony of whimpers and whines you make as he teases them with his tongue.

“I’ve got you,” he sighs, pulling back just enough to grasp his cock, notching the head inside your opening, just enough to make you gasp and squirm, “Y’wanna go dumb on my cock, babygirl?” He says lowly, resting his forehead against yours as he bends down enough to make the muscle in the back of your thigh ache with the stretch.

“Oh, please!” You breathe, canting your hips up in an attempt to get even just a bit more of his cock into you, “Please, daddy!”

With a growl, Michael slowly slips inside you, humming deep in his chest as he does, his eyes slipping closed as he savors your tight, wet heat.

“F-Fuck,” you squeak out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he fills you completely, his girth stretching you to the brim, leaving no part of you untouched, “You feel so good!” You whine, eyes fluttering as you try desperately to remain focused on him, never tiring of the expressions he makes when he’s inside you.

Slowly, he begins thrusting into you, groaning lowly as your fingers grip tighter at his shoulders. His blue eyes roll back in his head, brows furrowing as he slowly speeds up, rocking into you in a perfect motion.

“Feels so good,” he gasps out, ardently biting and sucking at your neck as he does, angling his hips to make sure the tip of his cock presses against that sensitive spot inside you, “So fucking tight, shit.”

The two of you move together, his hips smacking against the backs of your thighs as he plunges in and out of you. You can’t help but blush when the wet, squelching sound of your cunt begins drowning out the sharp gasps leaving your lips every time he thrusts back in, the tip of his cock brushing deliciously against the very back of your heat.

A rumbling laugh sounds in his chest as he hears it too, making you flush somehow deeper as he fixes you with a filthy grin. “Little pussy loves me, huh?” He rasps, groaning at the sight of you trying frantically to answer, your mouth hanging open as useless whines and moans warble past your lips. “She does, hm? Pretty cunt loves daddy’s cock.”

“Yeah, yeah— fuck!” You mumble, nodding your foggy head as best as you can as you gaze up at him longingly, breasts bouncing along with his thrusts, “L-Love it, daddy, fuck!”

He moans softly and grinds himself against you, driving you nearly insane as the small thatch of hair above his cock rubs against your clit deliciously. Your arms shoot out, wrapping around his neck tightly and dragging him down to you, needing something to hold onto as your walls clench down hard on his length, every thrust into you making you see stars.

His hands drop from your knees, arms locking around your neck in turn, pulling you up to him. Your legs lock tightly around his waist, the two of you as pressed together as you can get, your breasts pressed tightly against his chest. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers hoarsely as his fingers tangle in your hair, pulling your face back just enough to meet your eyes, “So pretty, so good.” He chokes out, eyes frantically darting between the two of yours, chest heaving as he pants.

You mewl harshly as his thrusts speed up even more, eyes nearly crossing as the head of his cock pounds perfectly against each sensitive spot inside you at the same time his abdomen grinds against your sensitive, swollen clit. You claw desperately at his back as you feel your walls clench and pulse around his length, well aware you won’t be able to hold on much longer but unable to warn him.

Fortunately for you, Michael has committed your tells to memory, even in the few short weeks the two of you have been intimate. “Come,” he commands harshly, gasping out the word just as you feel his length beginning to twitch inside you, “Fuck, come love, come.”

You nod your head wildly, rutting your hips against his as you shiver, your walls growing ever tighter on his length as you hang helplessly over the edge of your high.

“I fucking love you,” he grunts suddenly, squeezing his eyes shut and burying his face in your neck, mouthing uncontrollably at your neck as he keeps mumbling, “I love you, I love you, I love you so—shit, so fucking much! Fucking come, babygirl, come!”

Your head spins at his confession, heart hammering wildly in your chest as your high slams into you. You seize under him, shaking and crying as you pulse around his length, tears leaking into your hairline while you moan loudly, hips rutting wildly against him as you pull him somehow closer with your legs around his waist.

In the back of your mind, you hear him grunting harshly into your ear, squeezing the life out of you while he trembles, thrusting harshly into you one, two, three more times before stilling, hard cock pulsing wildly as he empties into you, flooding your walls with his warm spend.

Both of you pant harshly, a shiny sheen of sweat covering you. After a moment, you finally relax and your legs slip from around his waist, flopping lazily onto his bed.

You let out a breathy laugh as you look over him, his head still resting against your chest. His blond hair is messy, sticking up in all sorts of ways from where you’d run your fingers through it. Slowly, he relaxes against you too, slumping against you as he sighs tiredly, eventually matching your own spent laugh. Yours eyes slip closed after a moment and you let out a relaxed hum when you feel him tracing shapes onto your shoulder.

“I love you too.”

You giggle when his head instantly shoots up, tired eyes immediately meeting yours as he squints, “Y-You do?” The shock on his face is clear and he blushes so heavily the pink color extends all the way to the tops of his ears.

“For someone so smart you can be really dense,” you laugh, grinning as he sheepishly smiles at you, “How could I not?”

“Say it again,” he asks softly, a clear need in his eyes, “Please.”

“I love you, Michael Gavey.” You murmur, pushing a strand of hair off of his forehead.

He preens momentarily, shoulders seeming to square off with a newfound confidence before a familiar smirk lights upon his face. “No need to be so formal about it, love,” he quips, slowly pulling his softening length from your soaked core, shushing you sweetly as he does, “Daddy will do just fine.”

You roll your eyes with a laugh, playfully smacking his shoulder. “I’m trying to be sweet and you’re being an ass as usual!”

He snickers softly, biting his lip with a groan when he leans back to watch his cum slowly leak from you. “Well, lucky I’m your ass.” He smirks, laying beside you as he rests his head on his pillow.

“Oh, so you’re mine now?” You ask blithely, skimming a finger down one of his long arms.

“Mhm,” he hums, surprising you by lifting one of your thighs; you whine when his fingers connect with your center once again, gingerly gathering his cum leaking from you before pressing it back in slowly, working it into you with a smirk, “And you’re all mine, gotta make sure to claim you properly.”

You shudder at his words, biting your lip as you feel a familiar fog invading your mind once again. You don’t bother protesting, not even attempting to make a quick quip as you lean in and kiss him softly. A hot hand against your cheek makes you pull back, smirking when your eyes finally focus on his fingers, still shining with your combined juices.

“Jesus,” he breathes as he watches you take his fingers into your mouth, your own hands holding him steady at his forearm as you greedily suck at his fingers, “I fucking love you.”

“I love you too,” you giggle, finally pulling off his fingers with a soft pop, letting his hand rest against your waist as the two of you lie contently together on his bed, facing each other.

You see his eyelids begin to droop tiredly, a small sigh leaving his lips as he relaxes, “You know, you do have to actually help me study later.” You point out, laughing as he groans sleepily.

“Only if it ends with you on my cock.” He mumbles, pulling him closer to you as his breathing begins to even out.

“Like it hasn’t ended that way every time before?” You jokingly question as you let your eyes trace over his features, taking in his strong nose and jaw, smiling at the way his lips are still quirked up at the edges. Eventually, your eyes begin to droop too and you snuggle into him, breathing in his familiar scent as you drift off, something woodsy yet bookish, mixed with something that’s entirely Michael.

Your Michael.

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenswife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @fan-goddess @cl-0-vr @kittendoll05 @beautbuck @officerbrowneyes

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

1K notes · View notes

marknee · 2 years ago

Text

bts fanfics i personally think shakespeare would lose his job over in the 1500’s.

chapter i. ✷ chapter ii.

KEYS ON SEVERITY OF SHAKESPEARE’S STATE:

( ✮ ) — poor sod is on the floor. perhaps it’s shock?

( ♬ ) — he’s jealous he didn’t write this himself. well, it sucks to suck, mate.

( ✎ ) — currently handing him a tissue. give him a second.

( ♛ ) — both him and i lost our jobs. her majesty is ruthless.

THE SHAKESPEARE SERIES.

WARNING: keep in mind, some of these authors are very strict on the rule that no minors should read their work if they’re underage, and i will honour that. but, at the end of the day, i am not your parent. so, there’s that. but heed my warning wisely. any smut or 18+ content is highlighted in bold.

NOTE: without further ado, this are the fanfics that i think would cause shakespeare to lose his job: the first of many essays. let’s bring the guy to his knees. metaphorically.

⠀

( ♛ ) THE BODYGUARD — by @rmnamjoons

!! bodyguard!namjoon x reader | 62.9k !!

bodyguard au, romance, smut, fake dating, slight angst if you squint, lil bit of violence.

firstly, we’re starting off strong. i present to you, the mother of all namjoon fanfics. and she’s a bad bitch. tbh, i feel like this fic needs a moment of silence just to relish in her glory. soak it all up. it’s essential.

this fic genuinely had me gobsmacked at how incredibly written it is. it delves into every detail and no aspect of the story is left dry. you can tell the author put their everything into creating this world you just submerge into. and it shows.

the world building is amazing, the characters are so thought out, and it feels like you’re just on this adventure with them and discovering their story as it plots out.

also, the build up to the smut? out of this world. that’s one thing i love about this fic: it doesn’t feel rushed. everything is very spaced out and takes it’s sweet time, so when you get to the chocolately nut of the ferrero rocher, it’s like gold and well earned. and you can enjoy it.

honestly, it’s been months since i read this and i think about it every day. i did do some research (for my own peace of mind) and this fic is longer than the perks of being a wallflower. and is it better? yes. sorry not sorry.

this work of art deserves to be read and loved. and i rest my case, your honour.

⠀

( ✎ ) UNTIL THE LAST STAR FALLS — by @minniepetals

!! underworld lords!bts x shield!reader | 44.4k !!

reincarnation!au, poly!au, gods!au, unrequited love, minor character death, car accidents.

quick question — for science — how does one happen to lose all their memories without any sustaining any internal or external injuries? because the things i would do to read this again for the first time. and i do not use those words lightly.

this was my first ever ‘longer’ written fic. and if i’m being honest, i never really liked to read them because i have the attention span of a goat. but this fic lures you in from the very start and time slips away like smoke. to say, it definitely left its mark on me.

it’s so brilliantly written and you feel connected to the characters both mind and soul. you want the best for them, you want to save them, you actually want to crawl into the pages (or screen) and fucking help them out. and that sold it to me, i think. just the sheer love for these characters.

i balled when i read the last few sentences. i didn’t want it to end. i think i finished it at three in the morning and sent a voice note of me crying to my friend. tmi? well, now on my christmas list is 7 hot boys in the underworld who would risk their everything for me. and i, them.

worth every single second. trust.

⠀

( ♬ ) WARM THIS WINTER — by @jamaisjoons

!! seokjin x reader ft. ex-boyfriend jungkook | 51.6k !!

christmas!au, vacation!au, angst, fluff, smut (18+).

one thing about solaris, is she never misses. if i could, i think i’d recommend every fanfic she ever put out, but that’s too much effort for me when you could simply click her masterlist. so, i’ll wait here for you to do that. make sure you come back though.

love. sure, there are hundreds- perhaps, thousands of fics on this app about it. so what makes this one different? well, that’s just it. the sorrowful honesty of love. knowing when it’s over, and when it’s blooming in the midst.

i’ve never been in love, but frankly, this fic really spelt it out for me. the pain, the joy, the lingering memories after everything is said and done. it’s all there. and it really settles in your heart as you near the end.

this work pulled on every single heartstring of mine, stamped on them, and then proceeded to sew anew for the future to bring its own miseries. and i enjoyed it more than i can say (or type).

give this a read if you need just that bit of spark in your life. and that bit of sadness, too.

⠀

( ✮ ) STRIKE A CHORD — by @snackhobi

!! yoongi x reader | 15.8k !!

smut (18+), pianist!yoongi.

i don’t know what it is about this fic, but i come back to it whenever it pops up in my mind during my day. i’ll immediately unlock my phone and open this app, knowing i’ll feel better when the last word is read. and i feel content.

the atmosphere in this fic, if i may, feels as though you’re trapped in a warm, safe bubble with hazed music in the distance and soft light spilling through the thin layer of the bubble— not too dark, but enough to make you feel drowsy and peaceful. perhaps that’s why i return to it so often. i like how it makes me feel.

yoongi as an artist is already enough to make a person swoon, but as a pianist? i need a lie down. a cold towel to the head. just the whole characterisation of him in this fic needs a whole separate essay in itself, but you’ll understand my point when you read it.

forever a comfort fic, i think. and forever a comfort person. double whammy. case closed.

⠀

( ✎ ) THE END — by @jimlingss

!! seokjin x reader | 31k !!

fifty percent fluff, fifty percent angst, loosely inspired by to all the boys i’ve loved before.

i say this with my whole chest: i have never underestimated the amount of emotions you can experience during a fanfic, until i read the end— both literally and metaphorically. shock horror.

this fanfic takes you through the adventure of the reader learning of what her future would commence if she were to marry either one of the six members. best part? she’s led through this rollercoaster journey by the ghost of kim seokjin.

first impression to such an offer? sign me the fuck up. i mean, what more could you ask for? however my final impression went a bit more on the lines of what the fuck just happened. very different ends of the spectrum, if you ask me.

i decided to hand both shakespeare and i a tissue after this great piece of art was finished because not only was i sobbing, he was on the floor knowing his romance play of pericles could never live up to such an incredible story.

this fic was a rollercoaster i would be delighted to get onto for another ride.

⠀

( ✎ ) A UNIVERSE TO YOU — by @readyplayerhobi

!! soulmate!hoseok x reader | 41k !!

fluff, angst, smut (18+), soulmates!au.

shakespeare once said (according to google), “it is not in the stars to hold our destiny, but in ourselves,” and if this fic wasn’t a soulmate!au, i think i would’ve agreed in some sorts. but as it is, in fact, a soulmate!au, i’m obliged to disagree. it was destiny i read this fic, hand on heart.

i was not expecting this fic to hit me in the feels as hard as it did. as you can tell by the other works listed in this essay of recommendations, soulmate!au’s come up a lot. and with a lot of the same plots flying around on this app, it’s hard to make one stand out. but this author definitely has a gift.

everything was so richly created it made you feel full. of wonder, of love, and of want. it made you crave it for yourself. and that’s what i love about this fic. it just makes you feel… good. and with the unfortunates of life currently, it’s one to get your head stuck in for some temporary relief.

dream soulmate? he’s right here, people. just enjoy the story and all the feels that float around your body. go on.

⠀

( ✮ ) BUNNY — by @btssmutgalore

!! jungkook x fem!reader | 46.5k !!

non-idol!au, camboy!jk, friends to lovers, smut, angst.

let’s start here: never judge a book by its cover. a quote by george eliot going all the way back to the 19th century, and one i would use to describe this series as a whole, and my first impressions towards it.

this series, although unfinished (i think), has exceeded my expectations of a good smut outlined by a good plot. the best of both worlds, if you might. i came out of this series deeply in awe of the writing and the clear imagery the author manages to create within your own mind.

additionally, bunny was the beginning for me in learning about the world of camboys and camgirls(?), but i was greatly surprised. often, people are unkind to the new and stick to what they’re accustomed to, afraid of what the unknown might bring — me, included.

but, i’m glad i took the risk because i received three great things in return: a beautiful fanfic, knowledge of something that was foreign to me, and an author whose work i admire and shall be returning to in the future.

perhaps what i’m getting at is this could be a lesson to all. take a risk of something unknown because who knows? maybe something great will come out of it, and you’ll learn something. i did.

⠀

( ♬ ) SEOUL UNDERGROUND — by @hunniejimins (ao3)

!! namjoon x jungkook x f!reader | 300k !!

mafia!au, enemies to lovers, violence, slow burn, love triangles, mob boss!namjoon, smut, heavy angst.

it’s ironic really. i found this work by someone else’s recommendation, and now i’m passing on the favour and recommending it to you, dear reader. it’s funny how the world works.

this work is the perfect balance of fantasy and reality and i love it. you’re hit with the beauty and clouded haze of love before being smacked back into the world at the realisation the very person you’re in love with, is a mafia mob boss and his killer mate. a real fun-sponge, i tell ‘ya.

nevertheless, this book kept me up early morning and late evening reading. it keeps you hooked, wanting, and hungry for more.

it’s nothing less of a masterpiece.

⠀

( ✎ ) CREAM AND SUGA — by @snackhobi

!! yoongi x barista f!reader | 14.8k !!

coffee shop!au, barista!au, fluff, nfsw (18+).

@snackhobi is mentioned twice on this list. though, can you blame me? it’s just a good thing shakespeare and this author don’t exist in the same century. it would be absolute carnage but nobody is ready for that conversation.

this author has a talent of portraying yoongi in the most irresistible way possible. i swear, i fall in love with him all over again reading. i wish you understood.

the whole misunderstanding section made me laugh because haven’t we all been there? the crushing pain and overwhelming guilt of having a crush on someone you can’t have. it’s all too real, seriously. been there, done that (unfortunately).

especially having the holidays just past, this is a perfect fic for a warm evening in, while the coldness of winter storms past outside. such a cute fic. love, love, love!

⠀

( ♛ ) LOST AND FOUND — by @taleasnewastime

!! seokjin x reader | 21.2k !!

strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, sfw.

everyone says they have a fanfic that changed them, whether they’re being hyperbolic or brutally honest. and in my case, it’s a matter of both latter and former.

a couple months ago, i reached what i thought was rock bottom regarding my mental state and i took to my imagination to save me from the daily hell of my own mind. and this book was one i never really forgot about.

everything this author wrote within this fic was honest, heartfelt and very, very real. from the way you don’t just go up after going through something, but fall occasionally and sometimes feel as though you’re back at square one, to the way that there definitely is hope in the dark moments, and a light at the end of the tunnel. albeit a very faint one.

it comforted me in a way and reminded me of what i thought to be lost. fruitless, even. but sometimes, it’s books like these that open our eyes to things we’ve forgotten during times of turmoil: the simple goodness of life. and of people.

“if you’re going through hell, keep going.” winston churchill.

⠀

( ✮ ) CANDYLAND — by @honeymoonjin

!! seokjin x reader ft. elf!jk | 13k !!

thriller, angst, fantasy, husband!jin, some cursing.

my mother is the biggest thriller fan. not that you needed to know that, but she is. and she’s not ashamed of it either. she’ll let you know if she’s reading a really good thriller in the moment. trust me, you’ll know.

me? not so much. i’m more of a sappy, hopeless romance, happy ending kind-of-sod — if you haven’t already guessed from this list. but there’s a reason this fic is on the list, too.

this fic genuinely kept me on the edge of my seat- uh, bed. the secrets of what darkness lingered behind the happy exterior of this adventure trip gripped my eyes to the screen, and lord, was it worth it.

throw a bit of husband!seokjin in there too? what more could you want! and written by @honeymoonjin? what a win.

let’s just say after this fic i added a few other thrillers to my basket. and happily reported to my mum i was a changed woman. okay, i’m exaggerating, but you get my point. it was incredible.

⠀

( ✎ ) LILY LUCK — by @gguksgalaxy

!! yoongi x reader | 10.7k !!

soulmates!au, angst, fluff if u squint, very slight implicit sexual content, anxiety.

although this fic may be the shortest on the list, do not underestimate its power. it is still as mighty as the others— perhaps, even more so.

i think the main emotion i want to hone into concerning this fanfic is compassion. it sinks into your bones and surrounds your entire being like a unwanted hug. and you can’t even stop it.

the author does a good job of making you feel intense compassion for the reader — who so desperately wants to meet her soulmate. which makes the ending that much more satisfying.

this is for those who’re lonely, need a pick up, or those who’re hopeless romantics and believe in love belonging to fate, such as myself.

“expectation is the root of all heartache.” william shakespeare. talking of the devil, he would definitely cry over this fic. either of bubbling emotions, or the fact he didn’t write it himself. sucks really. for him, not for me.

5K notes · View notes

wardenparker · 4 months ago

Text

The Stars Re-Align, part 1

Frankie Morales x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: M for Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 12.1k Warnings: Reader is given an age and a grown daughter. Starts out as Santiago x reader. Cursing, food/alcohol, meddlesome friends, mentions of military service (obviously), glancing mention of Tom's death, past drug use, off-page abusive relationship, panic attacks, complicated relationships, family drama. Summary: When your daughter and your boyfriend talk you into having a birthday party, you are not prepared for all of the surprises that come your way. Notes: A little love triangle and 'one that got away' vibe for your Feral Frankie Friday!

“Rachel!” Calling from the kitchen is an old, unbreakable habit by now, but dinner is almost ready and you know your daughter is in the living room studying. She has plans with her boyfriend tonight which means she’s getting her reading out of the way, and you’re proud of her for having such good habits and steady resolve. It’s not at all what you were like at her age, and you’ve worked hard to make sure that she has opportunities that you never could have. Being a young single mom was rough, but every second you have with your little-girl-turned-young-woman is worth it. “Supper’s ready, honey. Find your bookmark!”

“Sure thing!” There’s no point in reminding you that her book is a digital copy, no bookmark needed, but she dutifully saves the spot and closes her laptop. “It smells good.” She compliments, walking into the kitchen and over to the fridge to bust out the bottle of wine that had become a habit with dinner since high school. Nothing fancy, just a cheap sangria, but it was a ritual that both mom and daughter enjoyed. “Are you going out with Santiago tonight?” She asks as she gets down the glasses to pour.

“He might come over to watch a movie since you’re going out.” Your two-month-old relationship isn’t deeply committed or deeply anything yet, really, but you like him. He’s attentive, handsome, and funny, and deeply — okay there’s one deeply — good in bed. “Do you want the good parmesan, or the shaker can? We have both.” Spaghetti with onions, peppers, and sausage isn’t necessarily gourmet, but it’s a family staple. Something your dad used to make you when you were growing up in New York City and you have made for your daughter her whole life afterwards.

“Good parmesan.” She hums. “Let’s be fancy tonight.” Bringing the glasses over to the small kitchen table, she moves on to set out the silverware. A chore when she was younger, it’s now just become habit when you eat together. ‘Working together as a team’ is how you always phrased it and it’s something she loves about her relationship with you now. You’re a team. “I’m going to stay at Ben’s tonight, so you and Santiago can have wild sex.”

“Be safe.” She’s twenty-four, so you’re not going to quibble about her sleeping over with her boyfriend, but you do give her a meaningful look when you set down the plates on the table. “Don’t make me a grandmother and I won’t make you a sister.”

Rachel laughs, it’s the same statement you have been using since she was first dating boys after puberty. “But Mom!” She pouts playfully. “I really want a baby sister!”

“Think I’m getting a little too old for that option, honey,” you huff, but laugh anyway. “Ask Santa for one at Christmas.”

She grins at you, bringing over the basket of breadsticks that are an Olive Garden copycat. Plain frozen ones that you brush with butter and garlic salt. So many of the meals you have together are mocks of the restaurant meals she had wanted when she was younger and you couldn’t afford. As an adult, it’s humbling to see the lengths you went to in order to make her happy.

“You’re coming back tomorrow, though, right?” Though you typically aren’t one to make a big deal out of such things, Santiago had offhandedly mentioned to your daughter a few weeks ago that it was a shame you weren’t doing anything for your birthday and Rachel had jumped on board with talking you into a party. The backyard barbecue will be small, but a chance to meet your boyfriend’s friends and have a few of your own friends from work come over. “It was half your idea, after all.”

“Yeah, I’m going to be there.” She promises. “Oh, is it okay if I bring Ben?” She asks. “He’s got another party to go to if not, but he said he would rather spend time with me.”

“Yes, you can bring Ben.” He’s a few years older than Rachel and has had a very different life experience, but you like Ben Miller. He’s doing his best to make an honest way in the world and he treats Rachel with love and respect. And probably in ways that you want to know absolutely nothing about. “There’s going to be plenty of food. Santiago and I are managing that end.”

She snorts and shakes her head. “Of course you are cooking for your own party.” She huffs.

“Get sassy with me and I’ll send every stitch of leftovers home with other people,” you threaten, though it’s hollow and comes with laughter.

“Not like you won’t make enough to still bring home food.” She shoots back with a grin. If there was ever a party, you always made too much food. It might be pasta salad, but you and she would be eating it for a solid week after everyone had gone home.

“Nothing fancy,” you assure her even though you know she’s right. “Burgers and dogs. And veggie burgers for the few people that skip red meat. All the accoutrements. Santiago is in charge of the grill, which he’s very happy about. And I’m making that cheese dip you like along with my guac. Salsa is coming out of a jar despite protests.”

“Let Ben bring the salsa.” She volunteers immediately with a grin. “He’s got some recipe he got from friends he used to serve with.” She explains. “He was going to make it for their party but we can hijack it and bring it to yours.”

“Deal.” That’s one more thing off your checklist and you’re fine with that. “And the cake is coming from an actual bakery, not a supermarket. I do listen to your protests most of the time.”

“The buttercream is far superior.” She huffs happily and lifts her glass when you are both sitting down at the table. “To a wonderful birthday weekend.” She offers. “One you never forget.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” You tap your glass against hers and smile. “Forty-two feels like it will be a good one.”

******

“We have the cake, the burgers are all ready to throw on the grill. Fish is bringing the baked beans, Ironhead is bringing the potato salad and you said Rach’s boyfriend is going to bring the salsa?” He arches a brow in concern. “What do you know about this guy? Is it good salsa? Because I’m going to be offended if it’s Pace.”

“I was told he has a recipe from somebody he served with.” The Pace is in its jars in the cupboard where Santiago can’t be offended by it, and you slip past him to look at your checklist taped to the cupboards one more time. “Coleslaw is made, cheese dip is made, and you filled up the outside fridge last night so that’s all set. I think we’re okay. The last thing is the guac and that only makes a few minutes.”

Santiago slides behind you and wraps his arms around your stomach and hums. “So we have time to go back to the bedroom?” He asks playfully, even if he would haul you back there if you said yes.

“Only if you’re planning on disappointing me,” you tease, knowing he never has and never would. Not on purpose. Still, you twist to kiss away the pout that has certainly formed there. “People are going to be here any minute.”

“We could always tell them to go the fuck away.” He laughs as he suggests it and then the doorbell peels out right afterwards. “That’ll be Ironhead.” He predicts. “Will’s always early.”

“Is that his real name? Will?” You call back when Santiago goes to open the door. You can make guacamole with your eyes closed due to the fact that you’ve had this recipe longer than your daughter has been alive, and you go to the fridge to get the ingredients.

“Yeah!” He calls back over his shoulder before he opens the door to find his friend on the doorstep. The smiles are genuine, almost guilty considering the shit they’ve gone through for the past five months since South America. Grief and sorrow have pulled at them, but it also has finally started to let them live again. “You made it!”

“Of course I did. You didn’t think I’d miss out on seeing your ass do something domestic, did you?” Will ‘Ironhead’ Miller slaps Pope’s shoulder. “Nice place she’s got. You tried to move in yet?”

Pope chuckles quietly and shrugs. “Maybe in another month.” He jokes. “Gotta get in good with the kid first.”

“Right, the kid.” With another friendly slap, Will Miller steps inside the house. It’s well-appointed, clean, and obviously loved. “She coming today?” He thinks so, but he can’t remember. Although a barbecue and pool party seems like a kid thing. But somehow Will remembers the kid not being kid. Teenager? He can’t remember now.

“She spent the night with her boyfriend, but she’ll be here.” Pope nods. “Although she’s already said she won’t call me daddy but I can take her for ice cream.”

“Nobody ought to be calling you ‘Daddy’,” Ironhead huffs.

Santiago laughs and shrugs. “You’re right.” He admits, knowing that he’s not father material. One of the reasons you were an attractive option was that your kid was grown. He didn’t have to play daddy, although from what he’s understood, the dad was your first love and was too immature to stick around. “Benny didn’t ride with you?”

“His girlfriend’s got a family thing today.” Will shrugs slightly, but honestly he’s impressed. His kid brother is crazy about this girl. It’s six months in and he’s starting to use some very committed language — which is fucking thrilling to Will as it signals Benny finally starting to grow up where sex and relationships are concerned. “He’s gonna come by later.”

“That’s good. I want him to come and have a few beers. Fish should be here shortly.” Pope will be happy to see everyone, it’s better than just checking in and having a beer. This will be a good time to really catch up. “How’s things with Marie?” He asks Will softly, knowing that Frank has been a little closed mouth about things between him and his lady. South America hadn’t been great for their relationship, although no one really likes her, she’s the one who was dabbling in drugs and got Fish hooked on coke.

“She was throwing some fit last night about Fish being out with another woman.” Which is obviously bullshit. Frankie would never step out on the mother of his child. But living in the apartment next to Frankie and Marie means he overhears plenty of bullshit. “All he was doing was asking if she wanted to come today. So who knows what kind of mood he’ll show up in.”

“Shit.” Pope sighs and shakes his head as he escorts Will though the living room and towards the kitchen where you are. “He needs to just bite the bullet and leave her.”

“We all know that. But it’s Fish. Too loyal for his own fucking good.” Will hadn’t been expecting to see anyone standing in the kitchen, let alone you, and he clears his throat. “Um—sorry, ma’am. Soldier’s habit,” he apologizes.

“It’s fine,” you promise him, actually laughing at the sheer display of manners. “I survived my daughter’s teenage years. You want to know who swears more than soldiers? Teenage girls.”

It’s been a long goddamn time since Will has been around teenage girls, but he just nods politely and offers his hand. “Will Miller.” He introduces himself. “Santiago has talked you up to be some kind of Wonder Woman, and it looks like he was underestimating your worth.”

"That's very kind of you, Will." You take his hand and introduce yourself easily enough, reflecting momentarily that Santiago has pretty friends. Blonde and blue-eyed isn't your type, but good looking is good looking. "Would you mind helping us get the last few things outside? And the pool is open, I hope Santiago told everyone."

“Absolutely, ma’am.” Like any good solider, Will is going to follow orders and he immediately picks up the heavier items to carry outside. “You have a beautiful home.”

"Thank you." It's something you worked hard for, and you continue to work hard for every day. Everything in your life has been to make sure your daughter is healthy, happy, and well taken care of. It was a lucky break that you got a well-paying job in your field to boot. "And you don't have to call me ma'am. Though I appreciate the manners."

“We need to give her a nickname before Taz does.” Will snorts.

"Taz?" You haven't heard that name before, and it piques your interest as Santiago helps you set things out on the table on the deck.

Will chuckles. “Youngest in our team.” He explains. “Short for Tasmanian Devil. Brother’s like a whirlwind of stirring up shit.”

"Got it." The Army nickname thing had taken you a second to get used to, but you're on board now. It's a brotherhood thing, and you like that Santiago has such a tightknit group of friends still. It's not something you've really had much of in your life, so you're glad to see when it happens for people you care about it. "Well, I told Santiago, but whenever your friends get here just let them into the backyard. The bathroom is off the living room, but everything else worth getting at is outside."

“Yes ma’am.” He smirks slightly when he says that again before disappearing out of the sliding glass doors.

"Are all your friends polite and helpful?" You glance back at the man you've been seeing for the last few months and crack a smile. "I'm glad you invited them. It's about time we started to meet each other's friends."

“Until they are assholes.” He jokes, giving you a bittersweet smile. “We lost a friend half a year ago and it seems like we’ve had a hard time getting back in the routine. Thought this might be the little jolt we needed.”

"Then we'll make sure it's a fantastic day." He hasn't confided too much about his years in the service or about where he was before moving back to Florida a few months ago, but this is probably a large part of the reason why. Either way, you slip your arms around him for a comforting hug. It's the least you can do, when he's gone through something terrible and is willing to open about it a little.

“It’s your day.” He protests, turning and kissing your lips. “It’s supposed to be good for you, not me. We will have a few drinks, have a few laughs and then…” He waggles his brows. “Well kick everyone out and I’ll make you cum until you pass out.”

The hum that forms in the back of your throat is as pleased as it is dirty, and you kiss him once more before your doorbell rings again. "I'll get it," you nudge his nose with yours and step back, albeit reluctantly. "Go hang out with your friend."

People trickle in little by little. Friends from work, mostly, and the one mom from Rachel's school days that you stayed friends with despite Rachel and her son never actually having been friends. Eventually the text comes through from your daughter that she's a few minutes away and that makes you smile brighter than just about anything else today.

Pope pulls out his phone and texts Frankie, wondering when he’s coming – or if he’s going to come at all. He is worried about him, knowing that he’s under a lot of pressure. Marie blames him for losing his license and then going down to South America for two weeks when it was only supposed to be one. He couldn’t even tell her what happened and that was causing issues.

Had to wait for the babysitter. On my way now. Says the text that comes through a few minutes later, but there is a temporary distraction from waiting for Catfish: Rachel's car pulls up and parks outside the house, expelling both your daughter and her boyfriend onto the front lawn.

“Come on, Ben.” Rachel grabs his hand and rushes him towards the door. They are running behind because of the pre-party activities he had talked her into and while she’s not regretting that in the least, she wants to get inside and wish you happy birthday.

“Sounds like everybody’s out back, baby,” he steers her toward the fence surrounding the backyard instead of the front door, but when that brings him closer to the actual driveway of his girlfriend’s house he frowns — deeply — in confusion. He shouldn’t recognize the two vehicles sitting behind Rachel’s car and her mother’s, but there they are: Pope’s slick vintage Corvette right next to Will’s jacked up picked up truck. There’s no denying the two vehicles, he’s seen them together far too often. “The hell?” Benny breathes, but Rachel doesn’t hear him. She’s too excited to see her mom and moving them through the gate before he can hang back to do a double take at the cars.

“Mom!” Pope looks up at soon as he hears a familiar happy cry but then he’s immediately frowning. Watching as Ben Miller moves through the fence gate with Rachel. “What the fuck?”

“I told you she was bringing her boyfriend, didn’t I?” Santiago’s level of confusion is confusing in its own right, but you ignore it in favor of meeting your daughter at the edge of the porch to give her a massive hug. “Hey sweet pea!”

It helps that Benny looks just as stunned as Pope does, Will stopping short when he sees his younger brother and doesn’t hesitate to call out. “You made it!” He huffs out and shaking his head at his brother’s fickleness. “Girlfriend’s family already kick you out?”

“Nooo…” Benny blinks against the sunlight, having left his sunglasses in his truck. “You’re at the wrong party, assholes.”

The ball busting smirk immediately slides off of Will’s face, due to the knowledge that there is no way they could be at the wrong party. “Benny…” He glances at a stunned Pope and sighs heavily. “We’re at the right party.”

It only takes about a second more, but by the time Benny breathes “Ohhh shit.” He’s also cackling with laughter. “Are you telling me—” The younger Miller brother looks around and drops his voice for the sake of not embarrassing the girl he adores. “Are you telling me Pope is banging my girl’s mom?”

Will snorts and shakes his head. “Looks like.” He agrees quietly. “Hell of a birthday surprise.” He hopes that it won’t change your daughter’s mind on dating him, Rachel has been fantastic for Ben.

“Fuck….” Pope snickers quietly, shaking his head at the irony. He should probably go spell this out for you so you don’t take it the wrong way. No one knew. Even after hearing about Benny’s girlfriend for months, only Will and Fish had met her so far.

Rachel pulls back and gives you a beaming smile. “Happy Birthday Mom.” She hums, winking at you. “Santiago spend the night last night since I was with Ben?” She’s not been paying attention to the guys, too focused on you.

“We fell asleep watching our second movie.” It’s mostly true — true enough that you can play it off as innocent because you did technically nod off during the second movie — but the empty bowl of popcorn and wine glasses in the living room had waited until this morning to be cleared away once you hauled each other off to bed. “Did Ben have a fight last night or did you guys just go out?”

“No fight.” She shakes her head. “Next weekend, so we just got to go out. Although he wants to know if you would like to come to the fight.” You’ve met Benny and she thinks you like him, but she wants you to get to know him better. Which is why she had suggested they go to your party today instead of his friends’.

“If you want me to.” You don’t feel too excited to watch your daughter’s boyfriend get beat up, but you do want to get to know him better. Rach is so obviously head over heels for him.

“It’s up to you.” She smiles and looks back at Ben, curious to find Will here. “Um— what’s his brother doing here?”

“Whose brother?” Turning to follow her eyes, your head tilts slightly in interest. Santiago and Will are deep in conversation with Benny already. “That’s one of Santiago’s friends. Will.”

“Mom…” Rachel’s eyes widen slightly. “That’s Will Miller…Benny’s older brother.”

“That…” You swallow, slowly registering the situation as you watch the men interact. “That makes things interesting…” You’re dating a man who served with your daughter’s boyfriend…this is going to get complicated…

“Oh god.” Rachel bites her lip as Benny and Pope quickly break away and come over to the two of you. “So…”

“So, this is interesting.” You repeat the phrase almost disbelieving.

“Kind of a funny coincidence, huh?” Benny wraps his arms around Rachel and plants a kiss in her hair.

“I didn’t know.” Rachel promises you with a small shake of her head. “Shit, Ben. I can’t believe I didn’t know it.”

“I think I know why.” You observe, clearing your throat and accepting the comfort of Santiago’s arm around your waist as you look up (and up) at Ben. “I’m going to guess that your nickname while you were serving together was Taz?”

“Yeah.” Benny nods and looks back between all the other men. “Oh fuck, we’ve been just using our nicknames and they didn’t know.” He groans. "I'm sorry baby." He turns to Rachel with an apologetic look. "Pope was talking about his new girl and spending as much time as possible with her, so he missed the last fight you were at."

“It’s a little unconventional,” you admit, wondering what Santiago thinks of all this. “But not terrible, right?” As close in age as you and Rachel are, it wouldn’t be the first time you have had mutual friends. Just the first time you were ever dating mutual friends.

"He's a good guy." Pope assures you, like it's the first time you've met Benny. "And we can kick his ass if needed."

Benny snorts and rolls his eyes. "You wish, old man."

“Rach?” Your fingers run through her loose curls gently and you give her a questioning look. While this isn’t the day you want to have — after all, you do like Santiago — it’s ultimately up to her. Everything is and always has been in your life, and you made that decision for a reason.

"I don't think that you need to stop seeing Santiago just because he knows Ben." She rationalizes. "I think it's fine, what do you think?"

“Just as long as you’re comfortable with it.” That goes for the men involved, too. But they don’t seem to mind beyond being apologetic.

Rachel snorts and shrugs. "Just as long as they don't share sex stories." She giggles and shoots Santiago a smirk. "And we won't either."

“I was not planning on it, sweet pea.” You might be close, but that’s a step too far even for you. “Never ever.”

Agreeing completely, she walks up to Pope and gives him a hug. "So if you make my mom cry, I'll have my boyfriend beat you up." She teases.

“Got it.” She’s a grown woman, but he can’t resist the urge to mess with her thick hair, watching her face wrinkle in disapproval before she moves back to Benny, who smooths the familiar curls with care. “Now we just need Catfish to get here and we’ll have everybody.”

"I'm here!" A hand appears over the fence before he opens it, hat pulled low, and he grunts when he picks up the cooler full of ice and beer that he had stopped and picked up on the way. "Sorry I'm late."

“Fish!” Benny kisses the side of Rachel’s head before peeling off to grab the cooler from him and take it to the porch so his friend can catch his breath. He doesn’t see the tick in the tilt of your head or the way your eyes widen just a second later.

'Fish', or Francisco Morales, looks up and smirks at Benny when he grabs the cooler. Thankful, although he wouldn't make too much of a fuss about it. Getting older sucked and he's still feeling the effects of that workout he helped the other man do just two days ago when his normal sparring partner was sick. "'Bout time you made yourself useful." He huffs playfully and looking towards Pope to wave. Freezing with his arm halfway up in greeting when he sees someone that he had never expected to see before – you.

The way you shrink into yourself immediately is instinct. As much shock as anything else. But within seconds you’re stepping forward to block Rachel from view and shakily a demand an explanation. “What the shit is going on?” You hiss, though you’re not exactly sure who you’re talking to, you just don’t want to make a scene in front of your coworkers. They consider you to be such a calm, collected woman.

Frowning, Pope turns towards you, reaching out to touch your arm and stepping closer to you. "Babe— what's wrong? What are you talking about?" He follows your gaze back to Fish and he grunts in confusion. "Fish? He's another teammate. One of my best friends."

“Fuck.” Deflating on the spot, you feel like you could just collapse where you stand but that wouldn’t help the situation any. “We—we, um—know each other,” you explain quietly. “But it’s been a long time.”

Feeling like he's been kicked in the chest by one of those fucking mules, Frankie stumbles forward and murmurs your name softly. "I— what are you doing here?" He asks, frowning slightly.

“This is my house.” You wonder if Santiago even explained where he was inviting him, or if you have a nickname to their group just like they all do to each other. “I wouldn’t expect you to still remember my birthday.”

All the blood drains from his face and it falls into a wounded look. Realizing that you have to be Pope's girl. "I— remembered." He murmurs quietly, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Seven billion people in the world. Figured someone else would have the same day too." It's almost a kick in the teeth, that comment of yours. Considering he had a fight with Marie because he had said your name this morning when he was talking to himself after waking up. You were the reason he had fought, again, with the mother of his child and she had pitched a fit and left. Making him wait on a babysitter so he could come to this party. To find out that it was for you. He's so fucking lucky that Marie isn't here. He clears his throat roughly and bites his lip. "Happy birthday, gatita." He uses the nickname from a million years ago and steps back. "I should go."

A press of overwhelming guilt and the instinct to stop him makes you reach out, grabbing his arm before you can stop yourself. “No. You shouldn’t.” You admit, even though it hurts.

"No," He shakes his head and gives you a wry smile. "I should." He sighs softly and looks over at Pope. "This is your girl, huh?" He asks, confusing the other man even more. "Keep her and take care of her." He tells him. "You'll regret it if you don't." He reaches for your hand and pries it off his arm gently, squeezing it before letting it go.

“Where’s Fish going?” Benny returns from the deck just a second too late, but just in time to watch Frankie leave again and see the bewildered looks on his friends’ faces.

"I don't fucking know." The entire day has been one big bag of surprises and Pope doesn't particularly like surprises. He turns towards you for some kind of explanation, although the nickname gatita sounds familiar, like Fish has mentioned it before. "You know Frank?"

“We grew up together.” It’s the best you can hiccup out before you take off like a shot, following Frankie through the gate. “Frankie!” He’s already down at the street, but he pauses when you call his name and it gives you time to catch up.

Waiting for you as you rush towards him, Frankie takes off his Standard Oil hat and scratches his hair. Struck by how nostalgic the moment is, waiting for you to catch up to him so many times once upon a lifetime ago. “Look, I’m sorry.” He sighs when you are closer. “I didn’t know, okay? I’m going.”

“I think you should stay.” Not as fit as you once were, you puff a little and put your arms around your waist. “We, uh—for Santiago, if nothing else. You’re his friend and I—I’m somebody you used to know.” And there is so, so much to tell him…

The idea that you might want him there makes him pause and he frowns slightly as he stares at you for a moment. “Only if you’re sure.” He still hesitates. “It’s your birthday after all.”

“It is.” And you’re not sure. You’re really not. But since he’s reappearing in your life almost twenty-five years later, the lump in your throat is winning over logic.

“Last time I saw you was on your birthday.” Frankie frowns, wondering how he could have been such a shit head back then. “Seems like the circle is complete.”

“Eighteen was a long time ago.” It was right before he left for boot camp, and you’d been pushing him to commit to you before he left. A stupid thing to do at such a young age. You know that now. But you were so stupid in love with him back then and there was so much going on.

“Yes it was.” He can admit that, biting his lip and shuffling slightly. “And I was an asshole.” He had broken his own damn heart, even if he hadn’t known it at the time.

“I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard.” Squeezing your eyes shut makes you feel like your heart is going to burst, but the universe has decided that it’s time to finally time to come clean. “I was scared. And I’m sorry.”

“I was stupid.” Frankie has so many regrets from that time of his life, just compounded over the years and he almost steps closer to you, but he doesn’t. He can’t, he doesn’t have that right anymore. “I proved you right. I didn’t come back.” The argument is still confusing in his memory, just as much as it had confused him then. You had pushed to get married before he left and he had wanted to wait. It had become a sticking point and in his stubbornness, he had broken up with you.

“You didn’t come back and you didn’t have a cell phone…and then your parents moved.” With their only child moved on, Frankie’s father had accepted a transfer upstate from the Standard Heating & Oil Co that both of your fathers worked for. “I had—I had no way to talk to you. To—to tell you—” Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, surprising you since you thought you had cried every last tear you had over Frankie Morales.

“Tell me?” Frankie frowns and he does step closer, hating to see tears in your eyes again on a birthday. Especially because they seem to be because of him again. “Tell me what, gatita?”

“Fair warning.” Wiping at the corners of your eyes, you can’t quite look him in his even when you straighten out again. “You’ll hate me. And you probably should, at this point.”

“I don’t think I could hate you.” Frankie admits quietly, unable to even imagine a world where he would.

“You might.” Wiping your hands down your face and breathing out a deep, frustrated groan, you look up again to see the eyes of the boy who was your first everything looking back at you, and you crumble. “I didn’t have any way to contact you,” you repeat again, knowing you could and should have tried harder anyway. “And I was scared of losing you because — because I was pregnant.”

The way his brows pull down is instantaneous and he immediately puts his hands on his hips and twists around as he absorbs your news. “You— you were pregnant?” He chokes out, looking back at you with a wounded expression. “I— what? No? What— pregnant?”

“That’s…that’s why I was pushing you so hard to propose.” You admit, eyes cast down at the ground.

“You didn’t say a word.” Frankie shakes his head. “Why— why didn’t you tell me? If I had known—”

“I thought if I told you that you’d only run away from me faster.” Which, at eighteen years old, had seemed like pretty sound logic to you. “By the time I was scared enough to just want you there regardless, it was too late. You were…you were gone.”

“By the time—” he shakes his head, eyes wide and he swallows harshly. “What happened? Don’t— I— what are you saying?”

"I'm saying that you have a daughter." A fact which sticks in your throat now like you had tried to swallow a pinecone. "Who is smart, and kind, and headstrong, and stubborn as hell. But she's doing so well for herself that a lot of that stubbornness just slides right by."

Frankie blanks out for a minute, staring at you before he turns away. Grappling with his emotions as he bends over and tries to take a breath, groaning slightly in disbelief. “No.” He shakes his head, turning back to you. “No! Don’t tell me that!”

"I'm sorry." It isn't worth much, as apologies go, but you kneel down beside him on the grass and wonder if he'll be mad enough to strike out if you put a hand on his back. "I really am. You should have known a long time ago."

“Twenty-four,” he chokes out. “You are telling me I have a twenty-four year old daughter?” His face screws up in the regret and tears. “Please tell me you’re fucking joking.”

"I had no way to tell you." It's a lame excuse, or at least it feels lame, and you do rest your hand on his back but it's so gentle you don't even know if he can feel it.

“Oh fuck….fuck, fuck, fuck…..” Frankie moans, closing his eyes and his fists bunch against his thighs. “I-I-I— don’t— I can’t –”

"Frankie?" His breathing sounds panicked, and you soothe one hand in circles around his back. "Breathe, okay? Just breathe. Everything's okay. She—she's grown. She's raised. No one is asking you to do anything."

“I—I missed it.” He manages. “I missed everything.” Closing his eyes as he realizes that his trajectory of his life would have been vastly different if he had known.

Oh. It's the opposite. The exact opposite. He's not panicked that you're going to expect him to stay, like you thought he was. He's upset that he missed Rachel's childhood. "There's...there's still the whole rest of her life ahead."

“I— I should have been there.” He drops his head down even more. “Fuck— you must hate me. She must hate me.”

"It's my fault you didn't know. Why would I hate you?" As much as it has ever hurt to lose him, you've never actually hated him. Just missed him. Which isn't the same although they can be confused for each other. "And Rachel— Frankie, she knows the truth. That we were young and lost touch."

“Rachel.” He shakes his head, focusing on her name and it’s so goddamn familiar. “Her name is Rachel?”

"My aunt Rachel died right before she was born," you explain, wondering if he even remembers meeting your mother's sister a million and a half times at different family functions while you were together. He was always invited for every holiday.

“God.” He closes his eyes and shakes his head, hating that he had been such a fucking idiot back then. “I’m so sorry.” He whispers.

"I am, too." More sorry than you can possibly say, but what else can you do at this point but try to move forward?

“So I managed to ruin another birthday of yours.” He pushes aside the grief and sorrow that is threatening to overwhelm him and locks it down. Compartmentalize, shutting down, it’s what he knows best. He can freak out about this later when he’s left.

"It's not ruined." It's awkward, and it's uncomfortable, and you're not really sure what to do now. But it's not ruined. "It's—it's not—I don't know what today is, but it's..." you sigh heavily and stand up again. "I don't know, Frankie. If you want to leave that's up to you. But our lives cross now, and I know...I know Rachel would want to meet you."

“Oh god. Is she— is she there? Here?” He asks, shaking his head. “Can I meet her?”

"If I wasn't going to let you meet her, I would have just kept my mouth shut about the whole thing," you needle him gently. Just wishing he could or would do as much as crack a smile. It seems desperately needed.

The huff, the quarter of a smile is almost involuntary. Almost in disbelief and he looks over at you with a heavy stare. “I want to meet her.” He tells you quietly. “If I had known, things would have been so different for us, gatita.”

"No use crying over spilled milk, I think." Twenty-four years of regret is a lot to process, but you nod in acknowledgement. Just a small motion of thanks that he is at least saying out loud what you suspected.

“Fuck.” He huffs again and uncurls his hands to wipe them on his jeans. “I’m nervous.”

"Telling you not to be seems cruel," you huff, though you're not sure what else to say. "No one planned this. No one saw this coming. It will be as much of a shock to her as it is to you. As—as it was to me to see you."

“Forty-two.” He shakes his head and looks back over at you in awe. “You don’t look a day over fucking eighteen.” It might be a small embellishment, but you look amazing and so much like the girl he has loved for so long.

"You're not so bad yourself." Santiago may be on the other side of that fence, but a part of your heart has always and will always belong to scrawny Frankie Morales from Brooklyn. Even if he isn't scrawny anymore – which is a thing you can't help but notice.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, centering himself before he nods. “We should go back.” He murmurs.

"I promise she's not scary." Although you'll understand when it is a complete shock to her. And to the others. "Just...let me tell her first? I ran after you so fast that I didn't explain to anyone else yet."

Both of you stand up and he scrubs his hands on his jeans again. “Sure, sure.” He agrees, knowing that it could be sort of a shock, even if she’s known about him her whole life.

"Remember to breathe," you advise him with a wry chuckle, even though it's good advice for you too.

“When I remember how.” Frankie snorts, slightly pacing in place as he glances towards the back yard gate.

"Come on." Nodding toward the yard, you take a step in that direction to see if it will spur him on. The urge to offer him your hand is misplaced, and you have to quell it by putting your hands in your jeans pockets. "We've kept them waiting long enough."

Frankie exhales roughly and trails along behind you, wanting you to take the lead. He has to tell you about Luna at some point, but he will do that after he meets the daughter he never knew he had.

“Sorry about that.” Once you’re on the other side of the gate again, you see Rachel standing in the midst of Santiago, Benny, and Will all looking concerned. “That was…unexpected? Shall we say?”

“Mom?” Rachel moves closer to you and frowns as her eyes slide back to where Frankie is hanging back. “Why are you upset with Fish?” She asks softly, looking back at the other three men and then back at you. “You said you knew him? When? I don’t remember you dating him.” Your dates had been few and far between, even rarer that she had met them, but she would have remembered someone called Catfish.

“I’m not upset, sweet pea. I’m just surprised.” It’s a lie, but a prudent one. You are upset, and it’s because your little slice of peace has been disturbed. But no one did that on purpose, so you’ll just have to live with it. “Why don’t we—we should talk about this inside.”

“No. Here. Now.” She has inherited her stubbornness both you and Frankie. And she’s eyeing the man she had met a few months ago and hung out with suspiciously. He looks like he’s about to be sick and she’s not above taking a baseball bat to his knees if needed, whether or not she had liked him before.

“Rach, I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” you murmur, looking around the backyard. Most people are milling about and a few are in the pool, but they obviously all know something is up.

Rachel stares at you for a minute and then she shoots Frankie a glare because you look so upset before she turns around and marches towards the house.

“You guys, too,” you decide, figuring it’s probably best to get all of this over with. Santiago is dating you, Benny is dating Rachel, and Will is bound to find everything out soon enough.

There’s not a lot of hope for him with the glare shot his way, so Frankie hangs back for a moment. Reconciling the fact that Rachel is the girl that Benny has been dating. His daughter is dating his friend. His friend who has been bragging about his girl to him. And their sex life. He’s going to throw up or punch Ben in the mouth.

Once everyone is inside, you check to make sure the bathroom is empty and close the sliding doors tightly. Everyone outside can wait. This is far more important. “Everything is okay,” you start, making sure that right off the bat Rachel knows you aren’t mad and Santiago understands you don’t hate his best friend. His best friend. Fuck. “It was just—as surprising as it was to find out Santiago and Ben are friends…this is an even bigger surprise.”

Frankie leans on the side of the wall, staring at the tip of his boot as he tries to wait for you to tell Rachel. He can’t blurt it out, she’s your kid. Not his— not really. He hasn’t done a goddamn thing to help raise her, but he has to admire the job you’ve done.

"The thing is, Rach." Blowing out a breath, you reach out for your daughter's hand and just pray she won't hate you. "You wouldn't remember when I dated Frankie. Because it was before you were born."

“Hermano.” Pope’s eyes widen and the nickname clicks. He knew he had heard it before. “Gatita? This is—” he whistles quietly. “Mierda.”

When Rachel still looks confused, you breathe deeply and try your best not to shake. Or to chicken out. "There are a lot of blanks to fill in along the way, but...sweet pea...Frankie is—" Oh god, you're going to throw up. You're absolutely going to throw up. "He's your father."

You could hear a pin drop, or a mouse fart, the room is so quiet. Every head snapping towards Frankie in judgement and he doesn’t pay them any attention, focusing on the one person right now that matters. His daughter.

"I don't understand." Rachel stands bog still, clutching your hand with eyes as wide as saucers as she looks frantically between you and Frankie. She had liked this man. He is a good friend to Ben. But now she doesn't know what to think.

“Your mom and I were high school sweethearts.” Frankie isn’t sure what you might have told her, but he’s going to tell her what he knows to be true. “More like middle school, but you know?” He shrugs. “I didn’t know she was pregnant.” He promises. “I swear I didn’t know.”

Will sighs from the other side of the room. “Oh shit.”

"Everything I ever told you about him was the truth." You had worked hard to always be fair to Frankie when you were raising Rachel, even if it led to never telling her very much about him unless she asked. "He didn't know, and I had no way of telling him. It's been...it's been twenty-five years since we even spoke to each other. So you can understand why I was surprised to see him walk in today."

“And he’s friends with your boyfriend and mine.” There’s a note of disbelief in her voice that Frankie doesn’t blame her for.

“We were on the same team for years.” Frankie explains. “I was their pilot.”

“That’s why we lost touch,” you remind your daughter gently. “He left for boot camp.” Considering Ben isn’t the first Army boy that Rachel has dated, you have always sort of had a suspicion that she was subconsciously searching for her dad in these men. It just never occurred to you that it would actually work.

She looks at him, almost accusatory in her gaze. “Why did you never come back?” She demands. “If you loved her, why did you just walk away?”

That makes Frankie wince, and he shoves his hands in his pockets again. “Have you ever done something dumb and been too goddamn proud to admit you were wrong?” He asks quietly, and Pope, despite his own feelings about the entire situation, won’t let Frankie’s daughter twist in the wind.

“He used to talk about his gatita.” He interjects. “Regretting not making up with her and wishing he could get in contact with her.”

“It was harder back then, honey.” The gentle reminder is important, because Rachel might not have grown up in a world of luxury but she’s definitely never known a world without cell phones or social media. “When I told your grandparents that you were coming, we moved. It was just a little further outside the city, but the place was bigger and the neighborhood was safer. Your grandma found a better job and— and with neither of our families still in Brooklyn, we couldn’t have found each other. Even if your dad had come back looking for me, or tried to call our old apartment? We wouldn’t have been there.” At least she hasn’t ripped her hand out of yours yet. You’re considering that a good thing “We were kids, and we made mistakes. Very big ones. But you know he didn’t leave because he didn’t love you.”

“I would have never.” He promises, his voice thick with emotions. He shakes his head and frowns slightly. He doesn’t know why he didn’t realize who she was to him now that he knows. She looks just like a perfect combination of you and him, with your nose, thank God. But her ears curl just like his.

“Oh god…” In trying to process everything, Rachel glances up and looks at Frankie’s hat again, groaning to herself and wiping one hand at the bottom of her neck just like he does — but neither of them ever noticed the simile gesture. “I always just thought the hat was a funny coincidence,” she admits with a huff.

“My hat?” He takes it off and scrubs his hair quickly before putting it back on his head. “Had it since I was a kid.”

The Miller brothers look confused, and you offer them a wilted smile with your explanation. "Both of our fathers, Rach's grandfathers...they both worked for Standard for forever. That's how Frankie and I met."

“Oh shit.” Benny frowns slightly and moves over to Rachel’s side, squeezing her hip supportively.

"I know this is a lot." It's a lot for everyone, but you're mostly just talking to Rachel. Your whole adult life has been lived for your baby girl and now emotions are unraveling at light speed. "But nothing has to change. You're a grown woman, sweet pea. And whatever relationship you want with your Dad is up to you."

“I’ve spent time with him.” She admits quietly. “After a fight of Benny’s.” She looks back at Frankie and bites her lip. “But I’d like to get to know him as my dad.”

"I know this just got sprung on everybody," you murmur again. The fact is that right now you have a yard full of people and all you want to do is disappear under your comforter and pretend it isn't happening. "But...life throws you curveballs, right?"

“Yeah.” Frankie huffs, crossing his arms over his chest and feeling like his entire world has turned on its head. Wishing like hell he could snort a line but he promised himself he wouldn’t touch that shit again.

"We should give you guys some privacy." When Will finally speaks up, it's to motion to his brother and to Pope that maybe they should step outside. There are a lot of emotions creating tension in this room and they're not going to be made easier by having an audience.

Pope shuffles slightly, wanting to stay, but he also needs to think about this entire thing. The situation is blowing up and he doesn’t want to make things worse.

"Maybe you could throw the burgers on the grill? And we'll be out in a few minutes?" He had offered to be in charge of the grill today but that was before everything had gone to hell and now you have no idea what he's thinking. "And I promise we'll talk through everything, too."

“Of course.” He nods and doesn’t lean in to kiss you like he might have just a few minutes before walking in this house. Feeling almost guilty for the entire situation right now.

That missing kiss is enough to tell you that everything has changed. Santiago has never shied away from affection or from public displays, and this is exactly the time that a partner might have offered that kind of comfort. Whatever you end up talking to him about later, you're now prepared for him to end things. But you can't fault him for that. You had a baby with his best friend – even if you didn't know each other then.

“Baby?” Benny looks at Rachel, checking with her before he leaves.

"It's okay," she promises him, going up on her toes to kiss the corner of his mouth. "I'll find you when we come back out." And she's going to find a White Claw or six in the garage fridge, too. Fuck.

“Okay.” He shoots Frankie a worried look, not liking the despair on his friend’s face and shuffles to the door.

"I figured it might be easiest to just tell them the facts up front and then let all of us talk," you tell them both, now wondering if that was the right move at all.

“Yeah.” Frankie nods, understanding why you did it, but he looks over at Rachel with regret and waits for her to say something.

"Do you, actually...do you mind if I talk to Frankie—" Rachel hums awkwardly over it, before reconsidering. "If I talk to my father alone for a few minutes?" She sort of feels like they're ganging up on him, and while she has questions and she's sure that you do, too...hers are going to be very different from yours.

“I don’t mind.” Frankie glances back over at you for approval.

"I should go make the rounds outside." As much as you don't want to, it is your party and they are your guests out there. Most of whom noticed that something odd has happened even if they don't know what. Still, you nod and lean over to hug your daughter. "Come back out when you’re ready. Ben looked like he'll worry until you do."

“I will.” She promises and Frankie catches your eye as you glance over at him.

“Thanks.” He murmurs, thanking you for the opportunity to talk to Rachel. He knows you could have been very different with this entire thing. Blowing out a breath when you walk out and shut the door, he looks back at his grown daughter. “So hit me with it.” He tells her.

For a second Rachel is dumbfounded. She just stands and stares at him, but then her shoulders slump and she shrugs and she blows out a long sigh. “I guess I know the real reason my middle name is Francine,” she poses, shaking her head. “Mom said it was because The Nanny is her favourite show and I completely fucking believe that because she worships Fran Drescher, but I’m willing to bet that’s one of only like six lies she’s ever told me in my whole life and it’s actually because of you.”

“Francisco Alberto Morales.” He introduces himself to her quietly, nodding and trying not to be humbled by the fact that you gave your daughter a version of his name. Something to connect the two of you.

“And you guys were…you were together for a long time?” She knows the story. She’s heard it from you over and over again. But something in her feels like she needs to hear it confirmed from him.

“Seventh grade until her 18th birthday.” He frowns at the way that makes him sound, how callous it could be construed. He has just walked away after so long.

“And she wanted to get married.” Rachel prompts, needing these landmarks of the story confirmed for her.

“We had a plan.” He shuffles slightly and looks around the neat and well decorated home. You’ve done well for yourself and it shows. “I was going to get through boot camp and my ‘A’ school while she started college and then when I got to my first duty station, she would transfer to a school nearby.” His shoulders round when he remembers that last fight, the missing piece now clicked into place and with maturity, he can see that you had been terrified, not overbearing. “Her birthday, she blind-sided me with getting married.”

“She wanted to skip forward and get married first, and you didn’t agree.” She can see it from both sides, now. As an adult it makes sense why an eighteen-year-old planning his life would think his girlfriend was just trying to trap him — or even that she wanted the wedding more than she wanted him. “But…you never got married at all? Even after Mom?”

“No.” Marie isn’t married to him, he couldn’t do that even if he had been inclined to. She was still technically married to some guy in her past, or so she claimed. “But….”

“Oh god, don’t say Marie.” Rachel bursts out, talking before she can even think. “She’s awful, and I’m not the only one who thinks so. I didn’t feel like I had a right to say anything before but I totally do now and she’s abusive and terrible, and I will absolutely help you leave her if you need help. I’ll babysit Luna anytime and — oh my god Luna is my sister—”

Frankie shuffles and looks down at his feet. Marie hadn’t been at her best the first time that Rachel had come to the bar after the fight. She had been pissed off because his hearing had been postponed again and he wasn’t closer to getting his pilot’s license back.

“Look, if you’re happy, it’s whatever.” Rachel shuffles, not realizing she’s moving the same way as Frankie, and shrugs. She senses she’s hit a nerve. “I’ll still help with Luna whenever you need. I—I always wanted a baby sister…”

“She’s not bad.” Frankie had dealt with her for a long time and it seemed harder to leave than it was to stay. “That was a bad night.”

“If you say so.” She doesn’t believe him, but the very first day she meets her father isn’t the day to push too hard.

He doesn’t know what to say, so he looks around the house again. “Did you and your mom struggle?” He asks quietly.

“My grandparents helped.” The short answer is yes, but she doesn’t want to make him feel guilty. “We lived with them when I was little, then we moved down here when I was about thirteen. Mom got a job with Disney.”

Frankie nods, frowning slightly. He has his retirement and his Thrift Savings Plan from the military, which he will hopefully be able to not use once he gets his license back. He’s not in the best position to offer any kind of help, but he will. “You’re in school, right?” He asks.

“I’m getting my masters at UCF.” Rachel nods again. “I still live with Mom. Here, I mean. She didn’t make me leave or anything when I started college.”

She’s dedicated. Frankie knows that college, especially graduate programs, are expensive. “That’s good.” He bites his lip and wonders if the offer would offend her. “I have my G.I. Bill.” He mentions. “I can gift it to a spouse – which I don’t have.” He shrugs. “Or a child.”

It's a very sweet offer, but that doesn't really surprise her. She already knows Frankie is a sweet guy. "Save it for Luna," she tells him. "I have great scholarships, and that way she'll be able to look forward to school without worrying about student loans."

It’s feels like a rejection, even though he knows it’s not. He nods and clears his throat. “That’s good.” He has an odd sense of pride for her achievements, even though he had done nothing to contribute.

"What do you want to know about me?" There's probably plenty, but now Rachel feels a bit self-conscious. She's at least heard stories about him. All he knows about her is whatever Ben has told him.

“Everything.” The word tumbles out before he can stop himself and he looks embarrassed. “I— I want to know everything.”

"Everything is a lot," she laughs, but understands. She wants to know everything about him too. She's wondered about her father forever. "What if...what if we did some father/daughter stuff? I could come over and spend time with you and Luna or we could grab a drink sometimes? Just...exist together. And all the get to know you stuff will come in time?"

“Yeah.” He nods eagerly and smiles at her, his eyes crinkling and his face lighting up at the idea. “I like that. Any time. Any time at all.”

“Okay.” She’s feeling bone tired by all of this so she can only imagine how you and Frankie feel, but as Rachel moves over to the notepad on the far table to write her number down for him, she purses her lips slightly and tilts her head. Her thinking face. “Don’t…please don’t be too hard on Mom?” She asks, holding the slip of paper out to him a second later. “She doesn’t ever say it, but I know she’s missed you. And she worked so hard to raise me alone, she just…she deserves the world.”

“I’m not mad at your mother, querida.” He promises, taking the paper and looking down at it before he folds it up carefully and tucks it into his pocket. “I’m mad at myself.” He explains. “Too goddamn proud to admit I was wrong, and I apparently missed out on a hell of a life.” He looks up at her with pride. “And a hell of a daughter.”

“Well shucks, Paw,” she laughs, obviously very touched by the sentiment. “I guess we both have a bunch to catch up on. But we can do that.”

He snorts and huffs out a grin. “By the way, I’m going to punch your boyfriend in the mouth.” He warns Rachel. “So don’t go screaming at me when it happens.”

“Benny?” She makes an audible huffing sound. “What did he do?”

“You’ll find out.” He won’t say now, but he shrugs. “He deserves it, and he’ll know it.”

“Seems weird, but okay.” Men do weird things sometimes. She’s not so young that she doesn’t know that.

He chuckles and sweeps his head off his head again. “You look like your mother when you wrinkle your nose.”

“It’s funny.” She wrinkles her nose again but consciously, wondering if she really does look like you that way. “She always said I had your smile. And your ears.”

Frankie reaches out and brushes her curls back behind her ears and smiles. “You do have my ears.” He admits.

“Is it weird? She asks, stifling a laugh. “To realize that?”

“Surreal.” He admits with a sigh. “I don’t know what to think. I went from being too old to have a six-month-old, to being the dad to a grown ass woman.”

“I was teasing Mom about wanting a little sister last night,” Rachel admits with a groan at the irony. “Shows me right.”

Frankie smirks slightly and shrugs. “Isn’t life sometimes a kick in the teeth?”

******

“What a Fucking kick in the teeth.” Will pushes out a sigh in the backyard, cracking open the beer he grabbed from the cooler Fish brought.

“Yeah.” Pope frowns at the grill, pushing the perfectly aligned burgers with the spatula. “Who would have thought?”

"What are you gonna do?" It's not as though Pope has had a lot of time to think, but Will knows him long enough to know that the wheels are already spinning. They have all heard Fish talk about his gatita, and now that they know who she is? It at least warrants a reaction.

Pope glances over at Will before he looks back at the grill, his movements a little stiffer than just a moment before. “What can I do?” He asks rhetorically. “She was his first.”

"Just because she was his first doesn't mean that he has to be her last," Benny offers, not quite sure what else to say. They all know that Pope had been starting to fall for you, even if it had never been said. Now he is very obviously pulling back.

"No, but she would want him to be." He admits quietly. "She had told me about her first love. She didn't tell me his name." He says pointedly when Benny opens his mouth to ask the obvious question. "But she told me enough to know that she's still in love with him. And we know that Frankie never got over her."

"So it's not about stepping back," Will observes, sipping his beer in the hot Florida sun. "It's about letting them be together."

Closing the grill, Pope sighs, hands on his hips as he looks around the backyard and comes to his decision. "Don't you think Fish deserves to be happy?" He asks quietly.

"Of course he does." The idea that Will might think otherwise practically makes him clutch his proverbial pearls.

"And fuck knows we want Marie gone," Benny huffs under his breath.

"His gatita is the one to make both of those wishes come true." He's sure of it and he will bow out like a gentleman. It's the least he can do since the last half year of hell in his personal life is partially his responsibility. He had pushed Fish to come to South America. Pope looks back at both of the other men. "Want to help me fix Fish's life?"

Benny is the first to smirk, clapping his hands together and rubbing them dramatically. "You gonna pull a binder out of your ass or are we talking this one through?"

"First, I'm going to get really drunk and pretend like I'm not falling on a sword." Pope snorts, snatching the beer out of Will's hand and taking a drink. "Then, we're gonna figure out how to get Fish custody of Luna." He tells them quietly. "That little girl is the reason he's still with Marie."

"We just need proof that she's the one with the drug problem." Will mumbles, not wanting to say those words too loud. "And we need his hearing to go through so he can get his damn license back."

"Yeah." He sighs and points at Will. "Can you talk to your ex?" Pope asks, knowing it's a big favor. "She's still working in the DA's office, right? Maybe she can help us? Or know someone who can?" Being a paralegal isn't the same as being an assistant DA, but she knows people.

"I'll see if she can at least point me in the right direction," Will nods in agreement, knowing that as uncomfortable as talking to his ex-fiancée will be, it's definitely the right course of action. "She always like Fish. It shouldn't be too hard to get her to give an e-mail or phone number of who can help."

“Marie isn’t going be happy learning about Rachel.” Pope glances at Benny. “You know that.”

"She's going to be furious." Ben agrees, wiping his hand through his hair and blowing out a raspberry. "She's gonna think Fish kept it from her on purpose."

“Poor bastard looked like he was about to fall over.” Pope sighs. “I hate this.”

"We're gonna make it work," Benny promises him. "Sorry you got shoved into the middle of it, though."

“It’s okay.” It wasn’t and it actually really hurt that he was going to have to end things with you and pretend that he’s just friends with you, but his brother is worth it.

"Better to find out now than a year from now," Will offers, knowing it isn't a whole lot of comfort. But at least it's honest.

“Yeah.” You walk out of the house and he immediately turns to watch you. “Better now.” Santi murmurs, his heart aching.

******

Most people leave around dinner time, splintering off to nighttime plans or to go home to their families. Santiago, Frankie, and the Miller brothers stayed long enough to help you clean up and Rachel is loading the dishwasher when you realize Santiago has gone temporarily missing. On a hunch, you go down the hall to your bedroom and frown to see him there, tucking things back into his duffel bag.

"Decided not the stay the night?"

He hates that you caught him and he stands tall after shoving in a t-shirt and tamping down the guilty feeling. “It’s been a…surprising day.” He tells you. “Figured it might be better to change the plan for tonight.”

"Just for tonight?" You have a feeling you know the answer, but you want it out in the open. No questions or doubts.

His eyes slide away from you and for a moment, he falters. Wondering if this is the wrong thing to do. “No.” He admits, walking over to you and cupping your cheeks in his hand. “I am— was— falling in love with you.” He won’t lie to you. “But you’ve been in love with Frank for far longer than you’ve loved me.”

It's enormously frustrating for him to be both presumptuous and right. The last thing you want is to admit it, especially as tears press at the back of your eyes, and so a protest comes out of your mouth instead. "He's with someone else," you point out, knowing that someone mentioned it earlier. One of the Miller brothers, you think. "He's—he's—it's so complicated, Santi."

“I know it is.” His brow pinches together and he leans forward to kiss your forehead. “And if it’s too complicated, I won’t let you twist in the wind.” He promises. “But you deserve to find out if your love for him is still there.”

"This isn't how I saw today ending." Overwhelmed and next to tears was definitely not on the docket, but you're not going to beg him to stay. That's not the kind of girl you are anymore. You haven't been in a long time. "What a shitty birthday."

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” Pope closes his own eyes and leans his forehead against yours. “I can stay if you want.” He offers in a whisper, feeling guilty all over as his resolve crumbles.

"You'd feel guilty if you did." He's a good man, that's why. It's part of what you liked so much about him when you met, and part of what's grown on you. "Like you were betraying Frankie."

“I would still stay.” He promises.

"You'd feel guilty and then you'd start to resent me." The defense mechanism of crossing your arms over your chest might guard you in spirit, but it doesn't stop you from feeling like utter dogshit in this moment. "Just...know that this isn't how I wanted things to go between us. That's all."

“I know.” He murmurs softly, the slight smile on his lips ironic. “I know, baby. I didn’t want this either.” He admits. “But I’m still going to be here for you. That won’t change.”

“Could I just ask you one favor before you go?” All things considered, it’s very minor and sort of the least you could possibly ask.

“Anything.” Pope would do anything for you, he’s proving that, but he wouldn’t deny you simple request if it’s in his power to take care of it.

“I don’t know if you’re going to see them at all tonight or not but just…don’t tell Rachel yet? She’s going to spend the night with Ben again and I know her. She’ll come straight home to be with me instead. I don’t want to ruin her night.”

He chuckles softly, aware of what that says about you as a mom. “You are a good woman.” He murmurs, leaning in kissing your forehead again. “I won’t say anything to her.”

“I’ll tell her tomorrow.” You promise him. It’s not that you want to hide things from her — it’s that you know she’ll act rashly out of loyalty to you if she finds out tonight. She might even break up with Ben, which is the last thing she actually wants or that you want for her.

“When you tell her is up to you.” He would never think that he should have an input on your relationship with Rachel or when you tell her. “Whenever you are comfortable.”

“Well…” A shrug and a half sigh are the best you can do, not really sure of what else to say. Maybe you’ll get on Pet Finder tonight and look for a cat. Or three.

“Oh…” Pope reaches into his bag and pulls out your gift. “I didn’t want to give this to you in front of everyone.” He tells you quietly. “But this is for you.”

“You didn’t have to.” Especially now. Especially with everything that’s happened today. But you still smile weakly and accept the bag. Yup. It’s gonna be me and three cranky, elderly cats. That’s my future. “I—um, thank you. It’s…very sweet of you. You’re a very sweet person.”

“No, I’m not.” Pope snorts as he steps back. “But you are worth the effort.”

Impulsively, it does make you want to ask why he’s leaving, then. But you know the answer. You know this is about you and Frankie having a past and that nothing is going to change Santiago’s loyalty to his best friend. What’s even more annoying is that you like that about him, it hits harder and hurts more. All you can say without letting the emotions through the floodgates is just to excuse yourself to grab the book of his that you borrowed because it’s downstairs in the living room.

Staring at the door, Pope sighs and pulls his phone out of his pocket to text Will. Deciding that he needs a drink after the emotional rollercoaster of the day.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

My Masterlist!

214 notes · View notes

thebibliosphere · 5 months ago

Note

Hello there - I had a question which I think(?) you might be able to help with. Or at least point me in the direction of more information.

I have a few chronic illnesses and disabilities and as such there's many gremlins I deal with. One thing that crops up a lot are comorbidities between my conditions.

I'm trying to be more vigilant with regards to my health - as a child there were many, many missed opportunities to get my symptoms seen to by a doctor (all squandered due to my parents nor believing me about my symptoms).

Anyway, I wanted to ask about MCAS and if you know it's possible to have it but not realise it?

I've had a few incidents like this, but mostly forgot them or ignored them. But yesterday I ate some basil from my windowsill plant and I had what can only be described as an allergic reaction. I'm not allergic to any foods (as far as I know) but I've eaten from this exact plant before and been fine. I have mint growing next to it which I also ate and it caused the same reaction. Again, I've eaten from this exact plant before. It was like my mouth was burning or stinging and the leaves felt, spicy? In my mouth. I'm not sure how to describe it but I hope you know what I mean. Today I ate from the exact same plants and had no reaction whatsoever.

I've definitely had similar things happen before- but events like yesterday are few and far between. But utterly confounding when they do happen. I have urticaria (diagnosed since age 18) which I suspect is relevant, somehow.

I'm starting to wonder if a lot of my symptoms I've written off have actually been MCAS. But I'm not sure. Do you have any advice around talking to a doctor about this or if I have a leg to stand on so to speak?

Sending my best wishes!

Hey friend, sorry to hear you've been dealing with some neglect.

And considering MCAS was only really recognized as a condition in the last 15 years, it's absolutely possible to have it and not know until symptoms get worse. I was experiencing anaphylactoid reactions my whole childhood, but because I tested negative on IgE tests (I still do), it was dismissed as anxiety right up until I hit my 30s and I experienced my first episode of full-blown idiopathic anaphylaxis.

(Note: anaphylaxis is not a requirement for diagnosis, and not everyone experiences it.)

You should discuss your inconsistent allergies with your doctor or allergist. I would also advise pursuing allergen testing, as new allergens can develop at any time, even if you don't have mast cell instability.

If you suspect some form of mast cell instability may be the root cause of your issues, I'd suggest checking out The Mast Cell Disease Society. (Their website is in the process of being updated, still. But they have good resources there.)

Their signs and symptoms (and triggers) page has recently been updated and is fairly concise:

If any of that rings a bell, it might be worth bringing up with your allergist, but fair warning, not everyone is receptive to the idea of mast cell disorders outside of mastocytosis. (And even then some doctors gaslight their patients to hell and back.)

If you do find yourself in this situation, try joining a couple of support groups to see if there are any MCAS aware doctors in your area, or alternatively, try the TMS physician finder tool:

Sorry if it seems like I'm just throwing a lot of links at you, but they are very useful links and I'm not at my best right now to explain things.

I hope this is helpful and if I missed something, please let me know.

I wish you luck in remedying your chronic health issues <3

#chronic health tag #MCAS #sorry if I sound like a robot #I'm conserving spoons

182 notes · View notes

comment-day · 3 months ago

Text

How To Embed An Image In An Ao3 Comment

Sometimes, an image is worth a thousand words. You've read a fic, and the only way to respond to it is with a picture. Maybe this is a scribble you drew in the notes app on your phone, maybe it's art you drew with actual artistic talent, maybe it's a meme you just looked up, maybe it's a meme you just made. But you have your image, and you want to put it in someone's comments. How do you do that?

Ao3 comments support HTML, so to embed an image you need an image link to where the image is hosted somewhere on the web, and you need a bit of HTML code. First thing, the image.

You can use a site like Imgur to host your image, or a private tumblr post, or a fandom image host like Squidge Image Hosting. The important thing is that you want the actual image URL, and not the link to the page that the image is hosted on. Let's say you put your image in a private tumblr post, it would look something like this to get the image link.

You want to right-click (or control-click, whatever works on your screen) to get this dropdown menu, and go down to Copy Image Address. That drops the URL into your clipboard. And then you copy this code:

In order that's the code that tells the HTML which image to pull off the web, a description that will work for screen readers, telling it that it doesn't need a border, and a bit of code that will keep the image from running off the screen if you grabbed a big image. You put your image URL in that bit of code and write a fast description, and then bingo, you're ready to post your image!

Oh god though, you're on mobile, that all looks awful: quick tip! If you host your image on images.squidge.org, they will do the html for you. It's free fandom image hosting as long as you're over 18. Upload your image, and then scroll down on the page, and there's a convenient button with the HTML just done for you already.

Scroll down to HTML and hit the copy button, and then just paste that into the Ao3 comment box, update the image description (cause it'll just have the title there) and you're good to go!

Go forth and decorate the world with images!

#Comment Day #Ao3 #Ao3 Comments #Ao3 Fanfic

120 notes · View notes

rose-tinted-kalopsia · 2 months ago

Text

≡;-꒰ 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐔 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎𝐔 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝑴𝒚 𝑹𝒆𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒅

╰┈➤ ❝ shirabu kenjirou x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni | kinktober '24 day 6

tags : pwp (without plot), post-timeskip, kissing, cockwarming, teasing, praise, slight dirty talk, vaginal sex (unprotected), tbh nothing much to tag bc this is very much soft and cute, use of pet names “baby” “angel”, lmk if i missed any tags!

wc : 1k

an : in which everyone sees the entirety of my second lead syndrome because i really truly love shirabu to death and i wish more people wrote for him too 😭

taglist : @interstellar-inn @pixelcafe-network @thoupenguinman @chemiru (SIGN UP HERE)

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST / KO-FI JAR / COMMISSIONS

After a long day of studying, if there is any reward worth waiting for, it's you.

You did this to yourself.

He'd been in another one of those spells of his where he would lock himself in his room and study, and you felt bad…

You were the one who had offered.

And yet here you were, face buried into his chest, voice muffled by his sweatshirt—

You could feel it.

His cock pulsed steadily inside of you, your eyes fluttering at the mere sensation of being so full. Whines fell from your lips, and you would try to move—to shift on his lap, to try to get even the slightest bit of stimulation, doing your very best to hold keep yourself from rocking against him—but it was so difficult.

It was nearly unfair.

How could he act so casual about all of this?

You could hear the familiar sound of his pen scratching against the paper of his notebook, and while you would normally find it comforting, now it was anything but.

“‘Jirooo…”

Again you nuzzled into his chest, feeling his free hand dig its nails into the exposed skin on your waist in warning. A little hum was all else that you got in reply; he kept writing, attention focused on his notes with that same aura of concentration that had always had you so completely and utterly enthralled by him. Just the thought of it made you clench around his cock, and he pressed into your skin once more.

Pen placed gently back on the table, you heard the faint flip of a page—his textbook, you assumed. And you knew that there was nothing you could do in this moment to get him to fuck you.

He had his arm draped over you to keep you in place. Mostly it stayed still, occasionally it would rub up and down your back, a silent and wordless encouragement. You had to be good. You knew that. If there was anything you knew about him—and, arguably, you knew quite a lot—it was that there was always a price to pay for going against his wishes. And Shirabu told you not to move.

So despite the buzzing ache for you to chase your pleasure, despite the heat pooling between your legs and leaking down onto his lap, you waited.

You waited.

Until you could feel him let out a slow breath, his cock twitching in a way that had you gasping, and his hand reached up to cradle you in his arms.

His head, too, rest on your shoulder. His breath fanned over your skin, and much to your delight, he moved.

Just the slightest buck of his hips, his cock pressing even further into you.

“Mmh… You've been so good waiting for me, baby…”

He murnured against your skin, leaning over to place hot, open-mouthed kisses, licking and breathing into you as if the last vestiges of his self control had finally begun to dissipate.

His hands trailed down the side of your body, savoring your whimpers, moving to rest on either side of your hips.

“Are you needy, baby?” he whispered.

The nod of your head wasn't enough for him.

“Hmm… But you're so quiet. Maybe you're not so needy after all, huh?”

You could hear the smirk on his face—you couldn't see it, but you could hear it. The image in your head was clear.

“N-no, ‘Jiro, please…” you whined. “M'needy! Want you so bad…”

“Mhm. And you have me. Right, angel? You're so warm around me, I could stay like this forever…”

He almost laughed; you could tell he wanted to.

But instead of doing so, his hand reached up to play with your hair, a delicate silence permeating the atmosphere before he coaxed your head up to look at him.

And, ah, he was beautiful.

Anytime he would do this, you couldn't help but get lost in his eyes, a brown so beautifully alluring that you could, truly, look at him all day and never quite get tired of it.

“Pretty baby,” he smiled at you. Soft, and gentle, and you could see all the stress in the back of his mind slowly begin to fade. “I love you. You know that, right? Thank you for keeping me company…”

A lock of your hair was pushed aside, as if to get a better look at your face, and then his hands were back at your hips—slowly moving them to rock against him, slow, puffy breaths leaving his lips at the friction the two of you were finally feeling.

“My reward,” he whispered.

He leaned in, and you gladly fell into him, sighing delightfully as your lips met his.

It was a slow, tender kiss. Your hips easily found a ruythm, little jolts of pleasure shooting through your body with every roll of your hips. With gasps and moans swallowed into kisses, he fucked you gently, carefully, equally granting you your reward as much as he was claiming his own.

“Mmnn… mnh—! ‘Ji—’Jiro—”

You fell forward into his embrace once more, frinding down on him, feeling the fat tip of his cock nudge at your sweet spot to make you shudder. Your arms wrapped around him desperately, wanting to feel him as close as possible… and he smiled.

There was a kiss placed on the top of your head before he began to lift you up off his lap ever so slightly, before bringing you down.

Your eyes widened, and you choked back a moan—

“K-Ken—ji—!”

Again.

Never too much, not quite being rough with you, but not quite being gentle. Just enough to push his cock in and out of you the way that you liked, rubbing deliciously against your gummy walls, fully claiming your heat as his own.

“Yeah, baby? You like that?” he murmured.

You could barely answer. He felt too good.

Your eyes squeezed shut as you whimpered against him, and you fisted his sweatshirt—a mix of yes's and broken moans of his name were all that he could hear, along with the muted sound of skin against skin, the all-too-familiar smell of sex filling the air around you.

“All gone already, angel? I've barely started, you know?” he grunted, picking up the pace, the smile in his voice never leaving.

A smile of satisfaction—a smile of pride.

And when all you could do was nod, he gripped your hips tighter, and easily began to slam you down on his cock, any sense of self-control completely gone.

“That's my girl. You take me so well, baby. Gonna fuck you so good.”

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

#roxie; rtkkinktober24 #kinktober 2024 #kinktober #haikyuu smut #hq smut #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu shirabu #shirabu kenjirou #shirabu smut #shirabu kenjirou smut #shirabu x reader #shirabu x you #shirabu #shirabu kenjiro

78 notes · View notes

yandereworlds · 8 months ago

Text

「 INDEX + INTRODUCTION 」

˚₊‧🔪WELCOME TO MY YANDERE BLOG! I mainly make content for my own original characters and occasionally, fandom related stuff. This blog is strictly 16+ and run by two people.

My name is Kiki (She/Her) and I am 18+. I’m the one that mainly provides the art and bots that you’ll find throughout this blog and sometimes, I write headcanons/imagines as well. My writer is Rose (She/Her, 18+) and she’s responsible for writing the fanfictions and some of the drabbles. To make it easy for you to know who's behind each post, you'll see either 'Mun Kiki', 'Mun Rose', or both credited in the tags.

We started this blog because we had numerous ideas for yandere characters. Given my background as an artist and Rose's talent as a writer, it seemed like a natural fit. I'm primarily creating this post to serve as a guide for navigating the blog. I've received numerous asks about accessing the characters' backgrounds, information, as well as questions regarding my bots, projects, commissions, socials, and other related topics. You can use this post as a reference FAQ or as a comprehensive guide to streamline your experience on the blog.

Find that you enjoy our work? Consider leaving a tip, it’s greatly appreciated and helps the blog. Also, if you’d like to be able to be more involved with our creative process and engage with the community, you can join our Discord server here.

╰┈➤ ASK RULES - OPEN!

✦ Absolutely no NSFW asks. This blog is 16+ for a reason, so obviously, we will be trashing asks related to sexual topics.

✦ We’re allowed not to answer certain asks. If you’ve been spamming the same ask and we haven’t responded to it for months, it’s most likely because we aren't comfortable doing so OR we’ve already answered an ask similar to yours.

✦ We will not be answering any asks regarding self-harm, eating disorders, extreme gore, noncon or any topics that could be associated with them.

✦ Finally, we kindly request your patience. We understand that it may take some time to address each individual ask, as we both have busy lives and there may be periods when we don't post asks for weeks. Please refrain from rushing us, and rest assured, we will eventually get to your ask.

╰┈➤ YANDERE MASTERLISTS

Original Yandere Masterlist

Fandom Yandere Masterlist

╰┈➤ CHARACTER AI + JANITOR AI

If you've been following this account for some time, you're likely aware that I frequently share my character bots here. I've received numerous asks about which bots are available and where to find them online. While I plan to compile a list of my bots soon, for now, I'll provide links to both of my accounts for future reference.

It's worth noting that I'm currently on a temporary hiatus from Character AI due to site complications. Consequently, most of my recent bots can be found on Janitor AI, where I'm more active. Before visiting either site, please be aware that Janitor AI is intended for users aged 18 and above, whereas Character AI caters to a younger audience. In other words, minors stay off JanitorAI!

My Character AI profile - 1, 2, 3, 4

My Janitor AI profile (18+) - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Wish to request a bot from me? You can find the information here.

╰┈➤ ART COMMISSION INFO - OPEN

Pretty self explanatory. If you're interested in commissioning artwork from me, simply click the link to access my commission page. Currently, I'm accepting payments through both PayPal and Cashapp. Below is a brief FAQ regarding my commissions. Should you have any further questions, don't hesitate to contact me!

Can you draw my OC with your characters?

✦ Yes, absolutely! Just provide me a reference and what you'd like specifically. We can discuss all the details in DM's.

Can you draw a character from 'this fandom' for me?

✦ I'm completely fine with drawing fandom related content. The only fandoms I will not draw under any circumstance is youtubers, Your Boyfriend, Country Humans, BTD and Killing Stalking. Otherwise, I'm open to whatever.

Can you draw a comic for me?

✦ Yes, but only short comics. You can let me know what you'd like the short comic to be about and all that fun stuff. Just know comics from me will likely be around $20-$40+ dollars depending how detailed and complex you'd like it to be.

#yandere #yancore #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere oc #yandere x reader #male yandere #//mun kiki #yandere drabbles #yanderecore #information #masterlist #yandere masterlist #index #introduction #yandere headcanons #guide

152 notes · View notes

chxrrysangel · 1 year ago

Text

Night Visits

Eddie has been known to climb trees, especially ones that lead to a certain best friend’s bedroom window. He’s also been know to be quite skilled with his fingers.

Pairing | perv!eddie x (f) best friend!reader

Warnings | 18+ MINORS DNI, innocence kink, corruption kink, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, honorifics, Eddie talks a lot about cum idk, religious imagery, inexperienced!reader

Word count | let’s just say smedium for now

Technically Part One

Eddie took a short assessment of the large oak tree, testing its sturdy branches under his weight before making the climb. It seemed safe…enough. Tying up his hair into a makeshift ponytail, so as not to get caught in the bark, he made his ascend to your second story window. He thanked Ozzy for the barely there streetlights in your neighborhood, making it much easier to be stealthy without the watchful eye of passer-bys.

The soft glow of your bedside lamp illuminated your bedroom, reminding him of home. The lampshade created a shape akin to a halo over your features, which Eddie thought was quite fitting. He did the signature knock against the glass, alerting you to his presence. Your lips sported matching smiles as the window came up, letting in the cool breeze that carried Eddie’s signature scent. He smelled like evergreen trees, sandalwood, and weed if you stood close enough. And vanilla. His shampoo smelled like vanilla.

“Eds, it’s so late. What are you doing here?”

“I can’t come to see my favorite person?”, he retorts as he climbs through the window. His cow eyes scan your room, taking in the changes since the last time he was here. You plopped down onto your bed, watching him spin around.

“Now I didn’t say that. But it is a Saturday night, I’ve got church in the morning.” His mouth forms on ‘o’ shape in understanding. If there’s one thing you’ll commit to, it’s the church. It was quite endearing to him how devout you are, which made his plans for you all the more enticing.

“Then I guess we’ll just have to make this a sleepover,” he grins knowingly, mischief evident in his tone.

His eyes glance over to your purple alarm clock, noting the time. 11:43 pm. He makes himself comfortable beside you on the bed, inching closer every so often. You try to ignore him, attempting to focus on the book you were reading. At least it worked a little bit, until you felt a ghostly fingertip creep up your bare thigh.

“Yes, Eddie? Can I help you?” He looked almost angelic, if it weren’t for the hunger in his eyes.

“No. Not at all, sweetheart. Keep reading, don’t mind me.”

Except now you couldn’t. The words on the page blurred while you felt his fingertips move further up your legs. Your heartbeat echoed in your ears, nerves getting the best of you.

“You know I’ve been thinking about that night every day since?”, your best friend confessed.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, working up the courage to look him in the eye.

“Yeah?”

Your voice was just barely above a whisper, unable to speak louder for fear of it cracking. His fingertips didn’t stop dancing along your inner thigh, making it rather hard to focus. He nodded, hunger in his eyes still.

“You look like you wanna eat me, Eds.” He smiled sweetly, a stark contrast to the thoughts running through his head.

“Trust me, I want to.” He leaned in close, whispering the words in your ear.

His hand gripped the hem of your shorts, pulling lightly. He was a tease and he knew that. But the way your pupils dilated with need at every touch made it all worth torturing you.

“Do you wanna do what we did again?” You nodded fervently, not caring if you came on too strong. Eddie liked that about you, how eager you were. It was…sweet. Eddie bypassed the hem of your shorts, feeling for the wet spot on your underwear he knew would be present. The metalhead m smiled to himself, enjoying how easily you become putty in his hands. Slowly he dragged his fingertips over your slit, rubbing your clit through the thin material. He watched your hips push against his hand, making him chuckle quietly.

“You like when I do that, yeah?” Something akin to a yes was muttered under your breath, too focused on the circling of his fingers. You were almost too cute to corrupt. Almost.

“More, Eddie. More.” Now who was Eddie to deny you? He peppered soft kisses across your bare shoulders and collarbones before making his way down the length of your body. Just the thought of what he was about to do to you made his cock leak.

~~~

Your sex glistened in the soft light, wet with arousal. Eddie tried not to stare but fuck, he thought, you had such a pretty pussy. He glanced at you from the foot of the bed, taking notice of your shallow breathing and wet lips. Such a needy girl, he thought. Not breaking eye contact, he flattened his tongue to lick a stripe up to your clit.

The feeling was unfamiliar, but so good.

Eddie pulled your body closer to his face, forcing your thighs to spread. He started off slow, tongue meticulous but forceful. Eventually the novelty wore off, giving way to pleasure when your hips began to push towards his face of their own accord. He was like a starved man, sucking on your clit as though your body could provide all the sustenance needed to survive.

Your wetness dripped down his chin, covering his pink lips in a light sheen. It was absolutely sinful. A particularly strong motion forced a deep guttural moan from the back of your throat, perhaps too loud to be lied away if you were caught. Eddie stopped, eyes darting towards you with a certain dominance.

“Pretty girl, I know I know. But I need you to be quiet. Don’t wanna get caught now do you?”. His voice was stern enough to make you cower if it weren’t for the most charming grin you’d ever seen on his lips. It softened the blow some, but the message received.

His middle finger prodded against your entrance before slowly slipping in, meeting almost no resistance. He watched your eyes roll back, biting your lips to soften the mewls he pulled from your lips with every pump.

Eddie didn’t believe in god, but watching your precious innocence unravel as he fingered your pussy was something of an angel. He went back to lay between your thighs, teeth grazing across your clit and sucking up your juices. He chuckled lowly to himself, enjoying the way your hips met his stroking fingers to chase your orgasm.

“Eddie, please,” you begged stuttering on his name. He cooed, shushing and telling you to be good for him. Your walls fluttered around his fingers, squeezing in a way that hinted you were close. Your shallow breaths increased in frequency, feeling the tightness of an upcoming orgasm. It was just like before, only now you kind of knew what was to come. You chanted your best friend’s name into your pillow, trying your best to keep quiet but hardly being successful.

“That’s it princess, cum for me. I know you can do it.” Eddie’s praises did little to help your self control, which he realized with the way your walls fluttered at every new nickname. He watched intently as you came, not stopping his attack on your clit as he helped you ride out your orgasm.

“That’s my girl.” Slowly he pulled his fingers out, nearly cumming in his pants when his ears picked up on your soft whines. Eddie wished he had a camera in this moment, the entire scene at play worthy of being recorded. From the post-orgasm sheen on your skin and puffy bitten lips, to the slick on his fingers, he was convinced this was his haven.

Eddie sucked on his digits, relishing in the way you tasted. You were so cute like this, fucked out and he’d barely done a thing to you. Your head was clearly somewhere else, drifting while you came down back to Earth. Eddie’s erection strained against his jeans, something he would take care of at a later time. Or now, with you watching. The thought alone almost made him cum right then and there.

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #perv!eddie #eddie munson x best friend reader

565 notes · View notes

iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin · 9 months ago

Text

bully⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

friday, kim taerae— select choir

⋆˙⟡ zbully1 smut series masterlist! hanbin, jiwoong, hao, matthew, and taerae included. game day (group) chapter here. all 7 endings here.

⋆˙⟡ wc: 2.7k

⋆˙⟡ reader: just one gn!reader version for this (no pronouns are used at all to describe reader; reader is describe as having a "pretty" mouth but no gendered or femme language)

⋆˙⟡ series summary: five bullies. six days. it's gonna be a hell of a week, babe. stay hydrated.

⋆˙⟡ friday summary: it's the end of the most bizarre week of your life. last year, you would've been overjoyed to spend time in select choir with your friend kim taerae. but that all went down the drain after hanbin recruited him into his group of incessant jerks... and he's desperate to officially be one of the guys.

⋆˙⟡ warnings: explicit smut. 18+. minors do not interact. please read specific smut warnings under the cut! swearing. angst. slight dub-con. bullying. the lore for taerae is so SAD. i'll make sure his ending is happy, i promise. also we've got a ft. hanbin chapter but just in digital form.

⋆˙⟡ bully scale: ★★★★★ (5.0)

(idk the bully scale is subjective but like imagine your best friend saying this shit about you WHY IS HE DOING THAT OMG jk i know why and soon you will too)

EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ WARNINGS: oral, (taerae receiving), throat fucking (reader receiving), brief handjob and heavy petting (taerae receiving), cumming without warning in mouth, filming of sexual act, voyeur!hanbin, slight dubcon but like for both of them kind of idk you'll see but it's slight, bullying, the usual.

friday.

you should be elated that this week is nearly over. and you are. mostly, anyway.

but there was an indescribable thrill to all this that you couldn’t seem to shake. all that talk of ravens yesterday had got you thinking...

why did you dislike ravens in the first place?

thinking. crying. haphazardly finishing all of your assignments due friday that you’d procrastinated the whole week. urgent texts to and from mina after her ✨jiwoong oppa✨ stood her up for their date.

one thing was for certain: you desperately need sleep.

that’s why you’re currently falling asleep sitting up, hard-back music folder open in your hands as professor yoo works with the bass section. the lowest notes of “requiem” are soft and soothing and, for you at this sleep-deprived moment, very dangerous.

luckily a sharp elbow to the shoulder jolts the drowsiness right out of you.

you look to your left to find kim taerae giving you one of the most judgmental glares you’ve ever earned in your life.

you would expect nothing less from him.

at one time a judgmental glare from taerae was the equivalent of a hug. you returned the gesture happily. and also threw in some hugs whenever he’d let you. he squirmed a bit, but the big smile that would grow on his face made it all worth it.

but there’s no warmth behind his eyes now. just a sharp elbow pointed at you, threatening to strike again if you didn’t shape up quick enough.

“you’re gonna get yourself in trouble,” he warns with a frown.

you roll your eyes. “why do you care?”

“because, unfortunately, some people still think we’re friends,” he says, making thin lines with his pencil on a page of his sheet music. “and i don’t want to suffer the social consequences of your embarrassing actions.”

“mm,” you agree wordlessly. “guess i should’ve thought of that myself.”

he doesn’t respond for a few moments, eyes focused on his sheet music until an audible sigh comes from his direction. “why are you so tired anyway? s’not like you.”

“for all you know, it could be,” you retort with a huff. “maybe i’m a real night owl now. maybe i’m out partying or smoking or... something.”

taerae snorts. “jiwoong hyung was not lying about those tragic acting skills.”

“oh, fuck off,” you reply.

his eyes widen. and then promptly squint with suspicion. “since when did you swear like that?”

you frown, trying to discern what he could mean. hadn’t you always been this uninhibited with your tongue?

the answer was no. you hadn’t. and this new speech pattern of yours had a very specific origin: monday afternoon. you exhale a chuckle. maybe you had yet to realize the full extent of how this week has changed you.

and how your desire to change back continues to dwindle.

you just shrug, returning your focus to your music. you feel taerae’s eyes on you as you track your vocal section’s part in “requiem”.

you and taerae had purposefully chosen seats next to each other in choir last year so that you could goof off together during every possible free moment. it was also convenient for your parents, who always wanted to get pictures of you two together during concerts ever since high school.

now you wish you went to different universities altogether.

ironically, you might’ve had a better chance of remaining friends if you’d had distance. but you and taerae disagreed quite adamantly at the time.

halfway through your two-hour rehearsal, you’re allowed a fifteen minute break to grab water and stretch your legs. you always wander off down the empty storage hallway, where your favorite vending machine is hidden in plain sight— the one with the oreos and cheez-its and bugles in it.

pulling out your debit card, you insert the chip into the machine and punch in the number for the snack of your choosing. you watch happily as it falls down from it’s spiral prison into the dispenser below. you start to bend down when a hand reaches in before you and grabs your snack.

“hey, what the—…” you trail off as you come face to face with a cavernous dimple. “give it back. now.”

“you’re so touchy today,” taerae condemns with a click of his tongue. he holds your snack high above his head, dangling it in a challenge. “seriously, what’s gotten into you this week?”

“oh, you know exactly what,” you huff, reaching for the snack in vain.

taerae laughs. “i guess a better question would be: what hasn’t gotten into you this week?”

“you’re so fucking funny,” you snap, fingers finally closing around the wrapper as you yank it down.

taerae’s brow is raised in surprise, not really caring about the repossession of the snack. “seriously, i’m not used to you swearing like that. i’m not sure if i like it.”

“i assumed there was nothing you liked about me anymore,” you retort, tearing open your snack and shoveling the processed glory down your throat.

“that’s not true,” he replies, hand suddenly reaching to your face. he brushes his thumb across your bottom lip, a crumb transferring from you to him. he brings his thumb to his own lips and tastes it. “i still like your pretty mouth.”

when you finally manage to pick your jaw up off the ground, you shake your head. “i know you don’t think of me like that.”

“uh...” taerae mumbles awkwardly, glancing at the row of shelves behind you. “sure, i do.”

“oh yeah? how about mina’s pool party two years ago? when we—.”

“OH, actually you—,” he interjects urgently, glaring at you to shut up. normally you would. but after this week, you no longer feel bound to quiet compliance. “you don’t need to—.”

“—were playing spin the bottle and it landed on me and you threw up in the pool because you were so disgusted by the mere thought of kissing me—”

his lips crash onto yours, hand cupping your cheek. it’s a demanding, yet tentative kiss and you’re even more confused when it ends.

you take a step backward, folding your arms across your chest.

“can you just—...” taerae grabs your arm and pulls you closer to him, glancing again at the row of shelves behind you. “yes, that’s perfect.”

“what’s perfect?” you ask with a frown, starting to grow immune to strange behavior after the week you’ve had.

“oh, um.... you,” taerae answers after a moment with a smirk. “you were always so perfect, (y/n). perfect grades. perfect manners. perfect body. i used to jump at the chance to sleep over when your mom would let me. you used to beg her until she finally said yes, because she knew you'd never misbehave. remember, honey?"

eyes wide at the dark shift in his tone, you nod slowly.

“you were so innocent... you slept shirtless, for fuck's sake. peacefully dreaming, while i pretended to be asleep on the floor,” he continues, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “hoping i wouldn't wake you up if i just lifted the covers to get a peek."

when you thought the worst of your pain this week was over…

“tae,” you breathe, eyes watering— pleading for this not to be true. it couldn’t be. at least... not in the vulgar way he was describing it. "you don't mean that."

at the sound of your despair, there's a momentary flash in his eyes. regret. you still know him like the back of your hand.

“why are you doing this?” you ask, hands flying to cup either side of his face. he flinches, trying his best not to look you in the eye again. trying not to let you see. “you don’t have to be my friend anymore if you really don’t want to. but i don’t know why you want to be like them when you’re miles better than they’ll ever—.”

“alright, that’s enough.”

the muffled, tinny voice comes out of nowhere. you look around your immediate surroundings, trying to discern where it came from.

“c’mon, you were doing so well,” the voice rings again. “you said you had this under control, bud. was i wrong to put my trust in you?”

“no, hyung,” taerae answers, shaking his head. “i—… i can do it.”

“hanbinnie?” you ask and then cough awkwardly to cover up the fact you just called your arch nemesis so affectionately. yesterday must’ve gotten to you more than you know. “i mean, hanbin-ah! what the actual hell is going on?”

“no need to worry about it, sweetheart,” hanbin’s voice dismisses again. taerae’s eyes dart towards the shelves behind you once more. you follow his gaze— jaw dropping when you see two camera lenses staring back at you.

“what—...” you fumble, shaking your head in disbelief as you look at the back of taerae’s phone— propped up with a black music folder. “you’re recording this!?”

“afraid so,” hanbin answers for taerae. “i didn’t really think he could follow through without some supervision. don’t mind me though. unless you just can’t help yourself...”

while at the beginning of this week a situation as perverted and bizarre as this would’ve had your whole nervous system shutting down, you’re still standing tall. present in this strange moment. you smirk.

“aw, tae,” you coo mockingly, turning to your former friend. “how sentimental of you...”

a brow arches in confusion back at you. “what are you––?”

“of course you’d wanna capture such a special moment on camera,” you continue with a patronizing nod. “it’s not every day that you lose your virginity.”

“HEY THAT’S—…” taerae starts to yell at you for sharing this embarrassing personal detail that you’re sure he never disclosed to hanbin. “that’s… that’s not true.”

“oh come on, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you twist the metaphorical knife as hanbin stifles a laugh. “i’d be happy to help you out with that, since i was the one who had to listen to you whine for four years about how you were still. a. fucking—”

two fingers are down your throat in an instant. you gag, trying to step backwards, but taerae’s hand finds the back of your head— holding you in place. he removes his fingers slowly, pupils dilating when you whimper in fear.

“i’ve decided i don’t like the swearing,” he says, a sickening hint of sweetness in his tone. any upperhand you had is now gone as he traces your lips with his thumb. “such a pretty mouth. those filthy words shouldn’t be coming out of it.”

“y-you don’t get to decide that,” you stammer unconvincingly.

“so that’s what you really want, then?” he asks, sticking his thumb further into your mouth. you suck obediently. “you wanna have a filthy mouth?”

you nod, his thumb still pressed against your tongue— cheeks hollowed out as taerae bites his lip hungrily.

“then you can have it,” he says before removing his thumb from your mouth and pressing down on your neck and shoulder— forcing you to your knees in front of him. you guess joining the soccer team had really improved his strength. “just remember it’s what you said you wanted.”

taerae unbuttons his jeans, pulling the zipper down. he freezes, clearly unsure of what to do next. maybe this is your opportunity to wiggle your way out of this. if only your curiosity wasn’t equally as strong.

“we––... i have to audition after this,” you protest weakly. “when break’s over, i have to audition for the solo i’ve been prepping for so i want to keep my voice warm right now and—.”

“ah, that’s right. i did forget about that,” he affirms, looking up at the ceiling in thought before smirking back down at you. “but i think i can help keep it pretty warm, actually.”

your attempt to level with taerae only seems to encourage him as he pulls down his jeans and boxer-briefs. you inhale sharply as his hard cock comes to eye-level, so close you can really examine it. though it’s slightly smaller than hanbin’s, it’s thicker and you need to know immediately how it feels in your hand.

“whoah, you—,” taerae stumbles, eyes wide as you take him eagerly in your hand. he stares at you, lips parted as you start to pump him. “holy shit.”

“you’re sure you wanna do this?” you ask, pausing your motion to make eye contact with him. you can tell he doesn’t want you to stop, but there’s conflict lingering there that he just can’t seem to hide.

taerae clears his throat, shaking his head as he resumes his tough guy act. eyes cold once more, he shrugs. “a hole’s a hole.”

after a year of judgmental berating from your former best friend, it was almost comforting to know that he was capable of being even meaner than he already was. it meant that, for whatever reason, he usually didn’t want to be any meaner to you.

he takes both of your hands in one of his, keeping you from using them as his other hand finds the back of your neck again— guiding your face towards his cock. taerae doesn’t need to give much guidance though. you’re aching to get a taste and the way your lips sink down around him nearly knocks the wind out of him.

back pressed against the side of the vending machine, his thumb presses into your cheek— feeling himself inside of your pretty mouth. you swirl your tongue around his tip, causing him to moan softly.

there’s a little bit of rustling coming from where taerae’s phone is propped up on the shelf. you wonder if hanbin’s enjoying this. if he’s touching himself— wishing he was throat deep in you instead.

“c’mon, bud. is (y/n) running this show or are you?” hanbin asks, tone laden with frustration.

“i—... i am,” taerae asserts, grip tightening across the back of your neck.

he starts to thrust gently into your mouth, an action that you’re not so familiar with. it rattles you a bit— loss of control after feeling like you were gaining it back.

“this is what you asked for, baby,” he reminds you, shallow thrusts starting to venture a bit deeper. “remember? you said you wanted a filthy mouth. so i’m gonna make a mess of it.”

you find the right rhythm to breathe through the thrusts. the tip of his cock is dangerously close to entering your throat, sending another wave of anxiety through you. but it’s not for long.

your eyes meet taerae’s and, though he’s the one putting you in that danger, you suddenly feel very safe. you let out a sigh, the vibration causing him to mewl. he scratches at your neck affectionately, putting pressure against it to feel himself inside you as he fucks your throat.

“see, keeping that throat nice and warm,” taerae coos as his breathing gets heavier— and his moaning gets louder. “take me so well, i—.”

“shut the fuck up, dude,” hanbin scolds, his own breath growing labored. “do you wanna get caught before you can win the—?”

before hanbin can finish his thought, you feel a warm, sticky liquid begin to pour down your throat. you pull off of taerae, sputtering and coughing as you try to swallow it down. wiping your mouth, you look up at taerae who is looking at you like he wants to dive straight into the han river and never return.

“for fucks sake, are you actually a virgin or something?” hanbin asks angrily. “is that really all you can last for? and, jesus, you’ve gotta warn someone before you do that.”

your throat is starting to burn and you’d love to be able to say something, anything, but the rasp that comes out isn’t pleasant-feeling. you rub at your throat with your now-free hands as taerae’s expression just turns more horrified.

“did i... did i hurt you? fuck, i didn’t mean to—,” taerae starts to babble uselessly until hanbin claps loudly.

“good work, team!” he says as he finishes his round of applause. “mvp definitely goes to me, for coming up with this idea in the first place. i’ll see the campus activities secretary at the big game tomorrow, right?”

“mm,” is all you can croak out. you wish it sounded angrier.

“and i’ll see you at practice tonight, man. i—,” hanbin cuts himself off with a confused look. “wait, where did he go?”

you face forward, expecting to see taerae standing next to the vending machine but... hanbin’s right. he’s vanished.

“that kid’s a piece of work,” hanbin says, shaking his head. “you think he’d be more grateful after i took him under my wing and made him popular. i even got him a spot on the soccer team after a lot of private coaching. i mean, he’s benched for life, but still!”

you’re a saint among men, is what you wish you could say. instead, you just roll your eyes.

“just take his phone and give it back to him in class, will you?” hanbin asks as you stand up and make your way toward the shelves. “and drink some hot tea for that throat, okay? throw some honey in it and you’ll be good as new for tomorrow, i promise.”

you sigh. and you nod. and you pick up taerae’s phone and end the video call.

and you go back to choir and sit in your black music chair and wait for taerae to come back, but he doesn’t. and when it’s time to audition for the solo you’ve been preparing for, you stay seated and quiet.

seated and quiet.

like you’ve been for so long.

and when practice ends and the choir room is empty and you remain seated and quiet in your black music chair and tears begin to well up in your eyes, you don’t cry.

you smile.

you stand up.

you shout (briefly, so as not to disturb anyone in neighboring classrooms).

at some point or another, you forgot how to do these things. or you were made to feel like you couldn’t or shouldn’t.

but that’s who you really are.

who you were always meant to be.

not a juliet. not a violin. not a goalie. not a bird. not a pretty mouth.

you.

you pick up your bag off the floor (and taerae’s) and throw them both over your shoulder, making a beeline toward the door.

absolutely, hanbinnie, you think. you’ll see me at the big game.

287 notes · View notes

keehomania · 4 months ago

Text

teach me (가르쳐줘) — kim taehyung (김태형)

✧.* 18+

in a world where wealth often dictated worth, knowledge was your key to navigating the labyrinth of societal expectations and ambitions. your university was a microcosm of this world—an elite institution where the corridors were lined with the whispers of inherited fortunes and the echoes of legacies. the ornate hallways, adorned with grand portraits of alumni who now ruled industries and nations, seemed to breathe with an air of superiority, as if money alone had the power to shape destinies.

yet, amidst the polished marble floors and crystal chandeliers, you knew that the true power lay in knowledge. money could buy access, but it couldn’t purchase wisdom or the relentless drive to understand the world in its myriad complexities. that belief was your anchor, keeping you grounded as you moved through the shadows of privilege and pretense.

the midterms were a pivotal moment, the culmination of weeks of preparation and anticipation. the classroom buzzed with a mix of anxiety and determination, students fidgeting in their seats as they awaited the start of the exam. the professor, a stern figure whose reputation for rigor was well known, stood at the front of the room, surveying the gathered students with a critical eye.

“ladies and gentlemen,” he began, his voice slicing through the murmur of conversations, “today’s midterm will account for sixty percent of your final grade. this is your opportunity to demonstrate not just your understanding of the material, but your ability to apply it under pressure. i expect nothing but your best effort.”

he paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. “the rules are simple: no talking, no electronic devices, and no looking at your neighbor's paper. any violation will result in an immediate failure. you have two hours to complete the exam. good luck.” with that, he began to pass around the sheets of paper, the crisp sound of pages being distributed echoing through the room. you took a deep breath, feeling the familiar flutter of nerves in your stomach. it was your domain, your battlefield. the stacks of notes, late-night study sessions, and countless hours spent in the library had all led to this moment.

as you glanced to your right, you saw your friend. jimin gave you a knowing smile and a thumbs up, his confidence in you a silent reassurance. you returned the gesture, grateful for his unwavering support. he had always been a source of encouragement, his cheerful demeanor and kind heart a comforting presence amidst the cutthroat competition. you had spent most of your life being his friend, you had grown up together.

to your other side, however, sat kim taehyung. his posture exuded an effortless arrogance, a king holding court among his loyal subjects. he laughed with his friends, seemingly indifferent to the gravity of the situation. you recognized a few of them—jungkook, with his athletic build and easy charm, and hoseok, whose bright smile belied a sharp intellect. the rest were a blur of designer clothes and privileged backgrounds. you couldn’t help but scoff quietly, turning your attention back to the exam in front of you. taehyung’s nonchalance was infuriating, a stark contrast to the dedication you poured into your studies. but today, you would show that hard work and intellect trumped arrogance and entitlement.

the first question stared back at you from the paper, a complex equation that required not just rote memorization but a deep understanding of the underlying principles. you picked up your pen, the familiar weight a comforting anchor, and began to write. the numbers and symbols flowed from your mind to the page with practiced ease. you broke down the equation methodically, each step a testament to your meticulous preparation. the anxiety that had gripped you earlier faded, replaced by a focused calm. it was your element, where your true strength shone.

question after question, you navigated through the intricacies of calculus, the nuances of economic theory, and the subtleties of advanced physics. each problem was a puzzle, and you relished the challenge of piecing together the solutions. your pen moved swiftly, leaving behind a trail of precise calculations and thoughtful analysis.

as the minutes ticked by, you occasionally glanced around the room. jimin was hunched over his paper, his brow furrowed in concentration. taehyung, on the other hand, seemed to be struggling. his earlier bravado had evaporated, replaced by a look of frustration as he scribbled haphazardly, his confidence cracking under the pressure. you allowed yourself a brief moment of satisfaction before refocusing on your own work. it was your time to shine, and nothing would distract you from achieving your goal.

the final question was a long-form essay, asking you to analyze a complex scenario and propose a comprehensive solution. you paused for a moment, gathering your thoughts, before diving in. your fingers flew across the paper, articulating your ideas with clarity and precision. you drew upon everything you had learned, weaving together concepts and theories into a cohesive argument.

the room was silent except for the sound of pens scratching against paper and the occasional rustle of pages. time seemed to stretch and compress, a fluid continuum that you were both acutely aware of and blissfully oblivious to. you lost yourself in the flow of knowledge, each answer a piece of your intellectual tapestry.

when the professor finally called for the papers to be handed in, you leaned back in your chair, a sense of accomplishment washing over you. you had given it your all, leaving nothing to chance. as you gathered your belongings, you caught jimin’s eye once more. he smiled, and you knew he shared in your sense of triumph. taehyung, however, looked defeated. the swagger was gone, replaced by a quiet resignation. his friends patted him on the back, offering empty reassurances, but you could see the doubt in his eyes. for the first time, the golden boy of the university had encountered a challenge he couldn’t charm his way through.

the hallways were still bustling with the residual energy of the midterms as you made your way to your locker. students exchanged their thoughts on the exam, some expressing relief, others despair. the echo of footsteps and the dull hum of conversations filled the space, but your mind was serene, buoyed by the confidence of a job well done.

jimin was right beside you, his ever-present smile a beacon of positivity. “so, how do you think you did?” he asked, though his eyes twinkled with the certainty that you had aced it. you smiled back at him, the sense of accomplishment still fresh. “i think I did well. i felt pretty confident about most of the questions. how about you?”

he nodded, his smile widening. “it’s my realm of knowledge too, remember? i think i did pretty well.” before your conversation could continue, you both turned to see jieun walking towards you. her eyes were fixed on jimin, a mixture of affection and relief in her gaze. she was infatuated with him, a fact that was evident in every glance and touch. yet, beneath that infatuation was a simmering dislike for you. as jimin’s best friend, you were a constant presence in his life, and jieun was a firm believer that boys and girls couldn’t be just friends. but it was hard to hold her animosity against her. jieun’s jealousy was expressed in the cutest, most endearing ways, making it impossible to truly dislike her. she was adorable in her insecurities, her emotions laid bare for anyone to see.

“hey, how'd it go?” she asked jimin, her tone a mix of concern and expectation as she wrapped her arms around his. “it went well,” jimin replied, his voice softening as he looked at her. “i think i did pretty good.”

her face lit up, her eyes sparkling with pride. “i knew you would! you’re the best.” their dialogue was playful, filled with the kind of light-hearted banter that only couples share. she clung to his arm, her possessiveness almost comical in its intensity. you watched them, an amused smile playing on your lips.

“so, are we walking home together?” jimin asked, turning his attention back to you. his question was innocent enough, but it was enough to make jieun frown, her jealousy flaring up again. “you can't walk home alone with her,” she protested, her lower lip jutting out in a pout. it was adorable, her attempts to hide her jealousy only making it more obvious.

you chuckled softly, meeting her gaze with understanding. “i’d like it only if jieun comes along,” you said, your tone gentle and reassuring. her face lit up for a second, a flash of surprise and happiness crossing her features before she tried to mask it. “i’m only coming because of jimin,” she insisted, but there was no mistaking the warmth in her eyes.

the three of you made your way out of the building, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the campus. the air was crisp and cool, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves of the trees lining the path. jimin and jieun walked ahead, their playful banter continuing as she clung to his arm. they were a perfect picture of young love, their affection for each other palpable. you walked a few steps behind, content to observe their interactions. despite her jealousy, you knew her feelings came from a place of deep love for jimin. and jimin, for all his easygoing nature, was equally devoted to her, his every gesture filled with tenderness.

the late afternoon sun bathed the streets in a golden hue as you, the three of you had quickly approached your home. the warmth of the sun was a welcome contrast to the cold, tense atmosphere of the exam room. your house loomed ahead, a comforting presence amidst the day's whirlwind of activity.

as you reached the front steps, jieun turned to you, her expression a mix of curiosity and cautious intrigue. “you know,” she began, her voice tinged with a hint of challenge, “i’ve heard people asking about your background. have you ever thought about answering those questions?” jimin shot her a warning glance, his eyes narrowing slightly in a silent plea for her to tread lightly. you caught the look but knew there was no malice behind her question, only a genuine interest that bordered on prying.

you paused for a moment, reflecting on the many questions that had been thrown your way over the past months. the whispers about how someone like you had gained entry into such a prestigious school had been relentless. the curiosity had always seemed to stem from a place of disbelief, as if your presence there was an anomaly that needed to be explained. you remembered how jimin had advised you to avoid discussing your background, especially since the truth—that you had earned your place purely through your academic achievements rather than wealth—could spark envy and hostility among your peers.

“i’m not really sure,” you finally answered, your tone thoughtful. “if the truth ever comes out, i guess i’ll just have to deal with it.” she nodded, her gaze softening as she took in your words. despite her evident discomfort with your close friendship with jimin, she had always respected your privacy and had never shared anything about your background with others. her understanding of your situation, despite the unspoken tension, was something you silently appreciated.

jimin placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “don’t worry about it,” he said with a comforting smile. “just focus on doing your best, and everything will work out.” you smiled back at him, grateful for his support. “thanks, jimin. i’ll see you later.”

jieun pouted, a playful yet slightly exasperated look on her face. “no, you won't,” she said, though there was no real bitterness in her voice. before you could respond, she took jimin’s arm and tugged him gently away. the two of them walked off together, their steps in sync as they shared a quiet, intimate conversation. the sight of them walking away, their connection evident in every gesture, left you with a warm feeling of contentment.

as you stepped through the door of your modest home, the familiar scent of worn wood and lingering fabric softener greeted you. the house was small, a humble abode that spoke of years of wear and a life lived within its confines. the walls were a faded, pastel yellow, their color dulled by time and the constant scuffing of shoes and furniture. the linoleum floor, scuffed and stained, added a touch of imperfection to the otherwise simple decor.

your mother was sprawled on the floor, her head resting against the small, weathered bucket of soapy water. her hand was still immersed in the suds, clutching a piece of fabric that she had been scrubbing with tired diligence. the sight of her dozing off in the middle of her chores tugged at your heart. gently, you knelt beside her, brushing a strand of graying hair from her face. “mom,” you whispered, your voice tender yet firm. “wake up. you need to take a nap. i’ll finish this for you.”

she stirred slowly, blinking awake to find you kneeling beside her. a sleepy, grateful smile spread across her face as she sat up, her eyes reflecting a mixture of exhaustion and love. “oh, sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice barely more than a whisper. “thank you. you don’t have to.”

you helped her to her feet, guiding her gently towards the small, worn-out couch that occupied one corner of the room. it was a modest piece of furniture, its cushions flattened and its fabric faded from years of use. “just get some rest,” you urged, your tone soft but insistent. “i’ll take care of the rest.”

she nodded, her eyes shining with gratitude. before she settled down, she placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, her touch warm and reassuring. “how did the exam go?” she asked, her voice laced with concern and curiosity. you couldn’t help but smile, a wave of relief washing over you as you recounted the details. “it went well. i’m confident i passed.”

her eyes lit up with pride and relief. “i’m so glad to hear that,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “you’ve brought honor to the family. with your grades, i’m sure you’ll make something of yourself and find a great job.” you felt a lump form in your throat at her words. her unwavering faith in you was both comforting and humbling. “i promise, mom,” you said, your voice steady but filled with emotion. “the first thing i’ll do is pay off the hospital bills.”

her face softened, and she reached out to clasp your hand. the debt from the hospital had been a heavy burden on your family, a constant reminder of your father’s passing and the financial strain it had left behind. the bills, mounting and relentless, were a stark reminder of the medical costs that had drained your family's savings and plunged them into debt. your father’s illness had been a long and painful journey. he had spent months in the hospital, his condition deteriorating despite the best efforts of the doctors. each visit to the hospital brought a new set of bills—emergency room fees, surgical costs, daily hospital charges—that piled up with an unrelenting ferocity. his death had left your mother grappling not only with grief but also with the crushing weight of financial instability.

the hospital bills were a reminder of the dreams that had slipped through your fingers, replaced by the harsh reality of debt and loss. your mother had done her best to keep the household running, working tirelessly to make ends meet while trying to keep the financial strain hidden from you. now, as you promised to alleviate that burden, you could see the relief in her eyes. “i know you will,” she said softly. “you’ve always been so determined and strong.”

you embraced her, holding her close as you both shared a quiet moment of understanding. The weight of responsibility, the pressures of academic success, and the promise of a better future all seemed to coalesce in that one tender hug.

with a final squeeze, you pulled away and headed towards the door, your part-time job waiting for you. it was a job that helped pay the bills and put food on the table, a small but significant contribution to the family’s well-being. as you stepped out into the crisp evening air, you took a deep breath, the coolness invigorating you. the streets were quieting down, the hustle of the day giving way to the tranquility of the night. you walked briskly towards your scooter, the one reliable means of transport for your job. the scooter had seen better days, its paint chipped and its engine wheezing with each start, but it was yours, and it served its purpose faithfully.

you mounted the scooter and revved the engine, feeling the familiar hum beneath you. the streets opened up as you navigated through the city, each delivery a step towards your goal. as you worked, the weight of your promise and the hope for a brighter future kept you motivated. each delivery was a reminder of the resilience and determination that defined you, and with every mile, you felt a step closer to fulfilling your dreams and easing your mother’s burdens.

the evening air grew cooler as you continued your shift, the rhythmic clatter of plates and the soft hum of conversation filling the air. the restaurant, a modest establishment with its own unique charm, was busy enough to keep you on your toes. you moved from table to table, wiping down surfaces and ensuring that each customer was satisfied with their meal. the work, though exhausting, was a necessary part of keeping your family afloat, and you approached it with the same dedication you applied to your studies.

as you polished the last table, your boss called you over, his voice cutting through the din of the restaurant. “i need you to make a delivery,” he said, handing you a paper with an address and an order. “it’s an auto workshop. they’ve got a few burgers and fries waiting. here’s the address.” you took the slip of paper, noting the address and the order. the workshop’s location was a bit out of the way, but you nodded and took the bag of food. it was a familiar routine, but today had a different edge to it, a faint sense of anticipation and unease.

mounting your scooter, you adjusted your helmet and revved the engine. the city lights flashed by as you sped through the streets, weaving between cars and pedestrians with practiced ease. the workshop wasn’t far, but the journey seemed to stretch longer with every passing minute. your mind wandered back to the upcoming challenges and the promise you’d made to your mother, fueling your determination.

arriving at the auto workshop, you parked the scooter and approached the entrance. the workshop was a large, industrial space filled with the clinking of tools and the scent of motor oil. the floor was stained with grease and the walls adorned with faded posters of car parts and maintenance tips. you called out the name on the order, your voice echoing slightly in the cavernous space. “delivery for min yoongi.”

it wasn’t until you heard a familiar voice reply that your heart skipped a beat. min yoongi. the name was unmistakable, and the man who emerged from the back of the workshop was someone you had seen around school. his presence was accompanied by a sense of authority, and his clique, always in tow, exuded an air of indifference that you had noticed from afar.

as he stepped into view, his gaze locked onto you, and a smirk slowly spread across his face. the sight of him, in the midst of his domain, only heightened the sense of unease that had settled in your stomach. you stood frozen for a moment, the weight of the situation sinking in.

“what’s a private university student like you doing delivering burgers?” yoongi’s voice was laced with a mix of curiosity and condescension. his smirk widened, making you feel even more out of place. you ignored his question and held out the bag of food, your tone steady as you stated, “here’s your order. the total is thirty dollars.”

his smirk faltered slightly, but he quickly regained his composure. he took out the money, his fingers brushing against the edge of the bag as he handed it over. “let’s hope you’re not part of the school’s social care,” he remarked, his tone dripping with mockery. “that’d be bad for both of us.” his comment stung, a thinly veiled threat masked as casual conversation. you could sense the underlying tension in his words, a warning that there was more to his presence here than just a casual delivery.

without responding, you took the money and turned to leave, the unease in your chest growing with each step. you mounted your scooter once more, the engine rumbling to life as you prepared to head back to the restaurant. yoongi’s parting words lingered in your mind, a reminder that the social dynamics at school were more complicated than you had anticipated.

the hours at work seemed to stretch on interminably, each minute marked by the steady rhythm of your duties. you cleaned tables, took orders, and delivered food with the practiced efficiency that came from months of experience. the work was grueling but necessary, a means to an end that kept your family afloat. as your shift finally drew to a close, you felt a wave of relief wash over you.

returning home, the small house welcomed you with its usual sense of comfort and familiarity. the night had settled into a quiet calm, and you found your mother fast asleep on the couch, the soft light of the lamp casting a gentle glow over her face. the sight of her peaceful rest made you smile. you carefully covered her with a light blanket, ensuring she was warm and comfortable before retreating to your own room. pushing yoongi’s unsettling words to the back of your mind, you sank into your bed and pulled the covers over you. aleep came quickly, a welcome escape from the day’s stresses.

morning arrived with the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the curtains. you stirred, stretching and yawning as you greeted the new day. a quick kiss on your mother’s forehead served as both a farewell and a gesture of gratitude. “have a good day, mom,” you whispered before heading out the door.

the walk to school was uneventful, the rhythmic crunch of your footsteps on the sidewalk providing a steady cadence. however, as you approached the school, a strange atmosphere greeted you. the usual buzz of students was replaced by an uneasy silence, punctuated by hushed whispers and furtive glances. your heart raced, an uneasy thought crossing your mind—could yoongi have said something? the idea lingered for a moment, only to be overshadowed by the sight of jieun running towards you, her face alight with excitement.

“hey! did you see the bulletin board?” she called out, her voice brimming with energy. you followed her, your curiosity piqued. pushing through the crowd of students that had gathered around the bulletin board, you felt a mix of anticipation and anxiety bubble within you. jieun guided you to the front, and as you finally reached the board, you were met with a sea of names and scores.

your eyes scanned the list quickly, and then, as if by instinct, they were drawn to your own name. there it was—first place. you gasped, the reality of your achievement sinking in. before you could fully process the news, jimin appeared beside you, his hand coming down with a hearty slap on your back. “congrats! i knew you’d do it!” you laughed, the joy of your accomplishment mingling with the relief of seeing your hard work recognized. jieun was quick to join in the celebration, her cheerfulness contagious as she congratulated jimin, who had secured second place.

turning your attention back to the board, your eyes couldn’t help but find the name of the one who had caught your attention earlier—taehyung. his name was prominently displayed at the bottom of the list. the shock of seeing him in last place among one hundred students was palpable. the whispers around you seemed to intensify as people took in the surprising result.

as you glanced over towards him, you saw him surrounded by his friends, their laughter ringing out with a mix of disbelief and amusement. jieun’s own laughter seemed to merge with theirs, her reaction a stark contrast to your own. the scene unfolded like a tableau of contrasting emotions, with the weight of the academic competition creating an unexpected drama.

behind taehyung, your gaze met yoongi’s, his smirk unmistakable. he stood a little apart from the group, his expression a mix of satisfaction and amusement. the sight of him sent a shiver down your spine, a reminder of the tension that had lingered from your encounter at the workshop. you quickly looked away, unwilling to let him occupy any more of your thoughts.

the morning continued with an air of restless energy, each classroom you passed seeming to hum with the aftermath of the midterm results. you navigated the hallways with a sense of purpose, your focus fixed on reaching your next class. the excitement of your accomplishment had yet to fully settle, overshadowed by the buzz of gossip and the unsettling encounter with yoongi.

as you rounded a corner, preparing to merge into the flow of students heading towards your classroom, you found yourself face-to-face with none other than min yoongi. he stood directly in your path, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp, as if he had been waiting just for this moment.

his smirk was immediately apparent, a self-satisfied curve of his lips that seemed to carry both amusement and challenge. “congratulations, delivery girl,” he said, his voice dripping with a casual mockery that sent a chill down your spine. you tensed, the unwelcome familiarity of his presence causing your heart to race. the public setting, combined with his smirk and condescending tone, made the interaction feel all the more uncomfortable. you had hoped to avoid any further confrontations, especially in the midst of the day’s academic frenzy.

without a word, you attempted to sidestep him, hoping to continue on your way without escalating the situation. however, his presence seemed to block your path as if he was determined to make this encounter linger. “thought you’d enjoy a little recognition,” he continued, his tone suggesting that he found some perverse pleasure in this interaction. “didn’t expect the top scorer to be working part-time as a delivery girl. quite the contrast, don’t you think?”

his words were a pointed reminder of the social divide that separated you from the elite circles he moved in. the insinuation that your hard-earned success was somehow diminished by your job was clear, and it stung. you took a deep breath, trying to maintain your composure. “thank you, yoongi,” you managed to reply, your voice steady despite the turmoil within. “i’ve got to get to class now.”

turning on your heel, you walked away with a purposeful stride, your heart pounding as you moved past him. the hallways seemed to stretch endlessly, the echoes of students' voices blending into a cacophony of sounds that barely registered as you focused on putting distance between yourself and him. each step felt heavy, laden with the weight of his words and the sting of his mocking tone. the confrontation had left you unsettled, but you refused to let it deter you. your goal remained clear—excel in your studies, support your family, and rise above the social constraints that sought to define you.

the day had passed in a blur of lectures and fleeting moments of camaraderie with classmates. as the final bell rang, signaling the end of your classes, you made your way to your second job at the coffee shop, a cozy nook tucked away in a bustling part of town. the transition from academic focus to the steady rhythm of coffee brewing was familiar, a comforting routine that helped ground you.

the shop was a warm haven, filled with the rich aroma of freshly ground beans and the soft murmur of conversation. as you slipped behind the counter, you spotted jieun and jimin already seated at their usual corner table. they looked up with welcoming smiles as you approached, ready to take their orders.

you went through the motions of preparing their drinks—jieun’s caramel macchiato and jimin’s classic espresso—with practiced ease. as you worked, the lingering sting of yoongi’s earlier comments occupied your thoughts. his condescending tone had echoed in your mind, a reminder of the social divide that you had been trying so hard to ignore.

jieun’s voice cut through your reverie as she scoffed, her expression darkening. “that yoongi is such an asshole. what does he know about you, anyway?” you tried to brush off her concern, but her words struck a chord. you finished up their drinks and handed them over, forcing a smile. “it’s nothing. he doesn’t have anything concrete against me. i can handle it.”

jimin nodded in agreement. “yeah, just don’t let him get to you. he’s just trying to get a rise out of you. besides, he doesn’t know the full story.” you nodded appreciatively, feeling a bit of reassurance from their support. with a brief exchange of pleasantries, you returned to your tasks, the steady hum of the coffee shop filling the background as you immersed yourself in the rhythm of the job.

meanwhile, in a world far removed from the warmth of the coffee shop, taehyung was enveloped in a cold, imposing atmosphere. his family’s manor was a testament to opulence, its grandiose architecture and expansive rooms a stark contrast to the modesty of your own home. the study where taehyung found himself was no exception—a vast room adorned with dark wood paneling, ornate furnishings, and a large mahogany desk that dominated the space.

his father, seated behind the desk, wore an expression of barely concealed frustration. his mother, standing beside him, placed a comforting hand on taehyung’s shoulder, her eyes filled with concern. his older brother stood across from him, arms folded, a look of disapproval etched on his face. the tension in the room was palpable as taehyung’s father began to scold him. “you’ve disgraced the family name with this abysmal grade. how could you allow yourself to fall to last place?”

his face reddened with embarrassment. “i’m sorry, father. i was distracted—there were personal issues,” his older brother cut in sharply, “distracted? you’ve been distracted for the past twenty years of your life. this isn’t just about one exam.”

his mother interjected, her voice soothing but firm. “that’s enough. we need to find a solution.” taehyung’s father nodded, the decision clearly made. “very well. it’s time to bring in a professional. we’ll hire a tutor.”

the mention of a tutor seemed to deflate taehyung even further, but he knew better than to argue. “who was first place?” his father asked, turning to his wife. he struggled to recall the name. after a moment of tense silence, he managed to remember. “some girl, (y/n) (l/n).”

his father’s eyes narrowed in a mix of disbelief and irritation. “a nobody managed to outdo the entire school, and you let that happen?” he chuckled derisively, shaking his head. “very well. a tutor it is. we’ll see if this (y/n) is really as impressive as the results suggest.” the conversation was clearly over, and taehyung felt a wave of frustration.

he needed to speak with his brother, if only to express his own feelings. he rushed after him as he stepped out, hoping for a moment of understanding or support. however, his brother’s response was anything but comforting. “don’t touch me,” he snapped, “i’m busy running a company, and you’re acting like a child. it’s pathetic.” with those harsh words, his brother turned and left, leaving taehyung standing alone in the corridor, his heart heavy with the weight of his family’s expectations and his own sense of inadequacy. the sense of isolation was nearly overwhelming, and as he turned back towards the study, the realization that his problems were far from over settled heavily upon him.

the day had been long and tiresome, but the knowledge that you were about to share some good news with your mother made every ache in your muscles feel worth it. as you finally clocked out from your shift, the streetlights flickering to life around you, a sense of anticipation accompanied you on your walk home. the cool evening air felt refreshing against your skin, and you allowed yourself a moment to smile, thinking of the joy you were about to bring.

arriving home, you noticed the house was quiet, the kind of stillness that suggested your mother was resting. you eased the front door open and slipped inside, your heart racing with excitement. you called out softly to your mother, but she didn’t respond. walking into the small, dimly lit living room, you found her sprawled on a worn-out rug, her body relaxed in a rare moment of rest. beside her lay the small bucket she used for washing clothes—a testament to the long days she spent keeping up with the household chores.

gently, you shook her shoulder. “mom, wake up. i have something to tell you.” she stirred and blinked up at you, a sleepy smile spreading across her face. “did you finish work?” you nodded, trying to suppress your excitement. “yes, and i have great news. i passed the exam with flying colors.”

her eyes widened slightly, and she sat up, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “i already knew. one of the other parents called earlier today.” confusion clouded your features. “one of the other parents? who?”

she took a deep breath before answering, her tone tinged with a mix of pride and concern. “it was kim taehyung’s family. they’re requesting you as an immediate tutor for their son.” the news hit you like a sudden chill. taehyung’s name echoed in your mind, mingling with the unsettling memory of yoongi’s smirk. you felt a knot form in your stomach, a mix of anxiety and disbelief. “not a chance. i don’t think i’m the right fit for that.”

her eyes softened with understanding but held a firm resolve. “i know it might seem daunting, but think about it. the pay is excellent, and it’s an opportunity to showcase your skills. it could be a big step forward for you.”

you hesitated, the weight of your mother’s words clashing with your own apprehensions. as you stood there, the grim reality of your family’s financial situation loomed large. the hospital bills, the constant struggle to keep up with expenses—it all came flooding back. the thought of turning down a lucrative opportunity, despite your reservations, was untenable. swallowing hard, you sighed and finally gave in. “alright, i’ll do it. i understand why it’s important.”

a smile of relief and pride brightened her face. “good. i already promised them you’d take the job. they’re expecting you to start as soon as tomorrow.”

you looked at her, a mixture of astonishment and determination crossing your face. “you promised?” she nodded, her gaze steady and reassuring. “i did. i knew you’d make the right decision. this is your chance to show everyone what you’re capable of.”

you nodded, a faint smile tugging at your lips despite the unease settling in your chest. “alright, i’ll do my best.” your mother reached out and took your hand, squeezing it gently. “i know you will. i’m so proud of you, no matter what.”

you gave her a quick hug, the comfort of her embrace a small solace against the wave of new responsibilities that loomed ahead. as you prepared for bed, your mind raced with thoughts of the upcoming tutoring job and the challenges it might bring. the prospect of working closely with someone like taehyung, coupled with the potential scrutiny from his circle, was daunting. yet, as you settled into your bed, the promise of better days and the chance to make a meaningful difference kept you hopeful. the night was quiet, the stillness only interrupted by the occasional creak of the old house settling into its nighttime routine. as you drifted off to sleep, the anticipation of what lay ahead mingled with the remnants of exhaustion from a long day, leaving you with a bittersweet sense of resolve.

the path to the manor was both exhilarating and daunting. the ornate iron gates, flanked by towering stone columns, seemed to mark the boundary between your humble life and the opulence that lay beyond. the directions you had received were simple enough, yet they did nothing to prepare you for the grandeur of the estate that greeted you.

as you approached the manor, your eyes widened in awe. the estate was a sprawling, neo-classical structure with ivy-clad walls, arched windows, and an intricate array of columns and sculptures that spoke of a bygone era of grandeur. the meticulously manicured lawns stretched out like a lush green carpet, bordered by pristine flower beds and elegant fountains. your heart fluttered with a mix of nervousness and wonder.

you walked up the grand stone steps and knocked on the imposing wooden door, its surface adorned with elaborate carvings. a moment later, the door creaked open, and a woman with an air of effortless grace greeted you. her attire was refined yet warm, and her smile was genuine as she introduced herself as the chairman’s wife.

“welcome! i’m mrs. kim. you must be the student who scored first place,” she said, her eyes twinkling with curiosity and admiration. you offered a polite smile and introduced yourself, “yes, i’m (y/n). it’s nice to meet you.” her face lit up with a beaming smile. “we’re delighted to have you here. please, come in.”

as you stepped inside, you were immediately struck by the sheer scale and elegance of the interior. the foyer was vast, its high ceilings adorned with crystal chandeliers that bathed the room in a warm, golden glow. the walls were lined with tasteful artwork and intricate tapestries, and the floors gleamed with polished marble. she led you up a grand staircase, its polished wooden railing glistening under the light of the chandeliers. the journey up felt like a passage into a different world, a world you had only seen in magazines and dreams. you followed her through a long corridor, each step echoing softly against the walls.

when she reached taehyung’s room, she paused at the door and knocked lightly before opening it. the sight that met your eyes caused your cheeks to flush with surprise. taehyung, shirtless, was lounging on a luxurious couch, his toned physique partially obscured by a half-open shirt draped over the back of the couch. her eyes widened, and she gasped in surprise. “oh, taehyung! i didn’t realize, sorry.”

taehyung, seemingly unbothered, pulled the shirt over his head with a nonchalant grace, his gaze shifting to you with a hint of curiosity. you quickly averted your eyes, feeling your cheeks grow warmer. “i’ll leave you two to it,” she said, her tone a mix of embarrassment and encouragement. “good luck.”

as the door closed behind her, you took a deep breath and turned back to taehyung. he had finally put on a shirt, and you allowed yourself to relax slightly.

“you know, it must be your first time seeing a guy shirtless,” he said with a scoff, his tone laced with a hint of amusement. you rolled your eyes and dismissed his comment with a wave of your hand. “just take out your textbooks. we have work to do.”

he complied, sitting at a large, ornate desk cluttered with papers and textbooks. you took out a piece of paper and set it in front of him. “let’s start by figuring out what you’re struggling with. what seems to be the problem?” he hesitated, his gaze wandering. after a moment, he sighed and said, “everything.” you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh at his blunt honesty. “alright, we’ll start with algebra then.”

you began to explain the basics, your voice steady and patient. as you spoke, you noticed his eyes lingering on you, his attention wavering between the lesson and you. it was clear he was struggling to focus, and you found it both amusing and a bit unsettling. he was clearly distracted, and you wondered if it was your presence or something else that was keeping him from fully engaging with the material.

when you asked if he understood, he snapped back to reality, his expression a mix of confusion and curiosity. “what are you doing in such a prestigious school if you have nothing to offer?” his question caught you off guard. you hesitated, your mind racing through the multitude of reasons you had never openly shared. finally, you decided to be honest. “i got in because of my grades. i work part-time to help my mom. we’re in debt because of my father’s passing, and i wanted to make a better life for us.”

the room fell silent for a moment, and taehyung looked genuinely taken aback. his usual aloof demeanor seemed to soften. “i’m sorry to hear that. i didn’t realize.” you were surprised by his reaction. “thank you. i appreciate it.”

he nodded, his gaze shifting back to you with a newfound respect. “i promise I won’t tell anyone. let’s focus on your teaching. i need all the help i can get.” you smiled, relieved and grateful for his understanding. you continued with the lesson, writing down an equation and handing him a pencil. the brief touch of skin as he took the pencil from you made his heart flutter slightly. you encouraged him to solve the problem, watching as he hesitated but eventually made an attempt.

when he finished, you reviewed his work and told him he had solved it correctly. “you’re smarter than you think. you just need to put your mind to it.” a genuine smile spread across taehyung’s face, and for the first time, he seemed genuinely encouraged. “thank you. i haven’t heard that in a while.”

the days of tutoring taehyung continued, each session bringing its own set of challenges and small victories. you had settled into a routine that balanced your part-time job and your responsibilities as a tutor. taehyung, once aloof and distracted, had shown significant improvement. he was attentive during your lessons, engaging with the material, and his grades were steadily rising. the initial awkwardness between you had faded, replaced by a more comfortable, albeit professional, rapport.

on a crisp afternoon, you were working your shift at the coffee shop, the warm aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods filling the air. you moved from table to table, serving drinks and chatting with regular customers, the rhythmic hum of the café providing a comforting backdrop to your busy day.

as you bustled around, your attention was drawn to a familiar face that had just entered. it was taehyung, looking relaxed in casual attire—jeans and a well-fitted shirt. he scanned the café, his eyes landing on you with a grin that made your heart skip a beat. he approached the counter, and you greeted him with a smile. “hi, taehyung. what can i get for you today?”

he glanced at the menu and made his choice with a casual, “i’ll have a cappuccino, please. and, uh, could i get some help with a problem?” you raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “what kind of problem?”

with a playful smirk, he pulled out his phone and tapped on the screen, then showed it to you. “it’s a number i can’t figure out. your number, actually.” you laughed, the sound light and amused. “what could you possibly need it for?”

he shrugged nonchalantly, though his eyes sparkled with mischief. “you never know. might need it for homework.” you shook your head, still smiling as you took down his phone number. you hesitated for a moment before typing your own number into his phone, making sure to set clear boundaries. “only text me for emergencies. got it?”

he nodded, his smile widening. “got it. i’ll make sure to use it wisely.” as you prepared his drink, you couldn’t help but glance over at him. he watched you with an easygoing smile, seeming to enjoy the brief interaction. there was something undeniably pleasant about the way he looked at you, and it made you wonder about the nature of his interest.

you were busy wiping down the counter when the bell above the café door chimed, announcing a new arrival. you looked up and your heart sank as you saw yoongi walking in. his expression shifted from surprise to a knowing smirk upon seeing you. the brief moment of recognition made you tense, but you masked your unease with professional composure.

yoongi approached the counter, and you could feel yaehyung’s gaze following the interaction. “well, if it isn’t the delivery girl turned bartender,” he remarked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “is there anything you can’t do?”

you took a deep breath, trying to ignore the provocation. “what can i get for you?” you asked, keeping your voice steady. he ordered a coffee with a hint of casual curiosity in his tone. “and maybe an explanation while you’re at it.”

your brow furrowed in confusion. “i’m not sure what you’re referring to.” yoongi’s expression darkened slightly. “don’t play dumb. i’d suggest you explain yourself soon, or you might find the whole school talking about why you’re working part-time.”

before you could respond, taehyung stood up from his table, his eyes locked on yoongi with an intense glare. he walked over with a purposeful stride, clearly agitated. “take your coffee and leave,” he commanded, his voice sharp. yoongi didn’t flinch. instead, he gave a mocking smile. “oh, don’t be so brazen. you almost scared me.”

taehyung moved closer, his irritation palpable. “i said, leave.” yoongi’s gaze shifted between the two of you, amusement evident in his smirk. “i wonder which would be more shocking—the prestigious student working part-time, or the younger kim son dating said student?”

your heart raced at the insinuation, and you quickly interjected, “we’re not dating.” yoongi’s eyebrows lifted in mild surprise. “really? so i can have your number, then?”

you hesitated, feeling the weight of your situation. taehyung looked as if he wanted to protest, but when he met your eyes and saw the determination there, he fell silent. with a resigned sigh, you gave yoongi your number, knowing the importance of keeping things under control. his smirk widened as he took your phone, typing in the number. he handed it back to you along with the money for his coffee. “keep the change,” he said with a hint of mockery. “you probably need it more than i do.”

with that, he turned on his heel and walked out, his exit leaving a palpable tension in the air. taehyung’s eyes narrowed in frustration as he watched yoongi leave. once the door closed behind him, he turned to you, his voice laced with anger. “why did you give him your number?”

you met his gaze, feeling a pang of sadness mixed with resolve. “i can’t afford to be a laughingstock. you wouldn’t understand. you’re from a different world where these things don’t matter.” taehyung looked taken aback by your words, his face reflecting a mixture of surprise and hurt. he stood silently as you turned back to your work, the weight of the conversation hanging heavily between you.

the following morning, you walked to school with a sense of weariness settling over you. the events of the previous day replayed in your mindyoongi’s taunting remarks and taehyung’s confusion. you were lost in thought when a sleek black car came to a halt beside you, the window slowly descending.

taehyung’s familiar face appeared, framed by the open window, his smile bright and inviting. “good morning,” he greeted, his tone cheerful. “need a ride?” you blinked in surprise, taken aback by the unexpected offer. “what are you doing?” you asked, casting a wary glance at the car.

“get in,” he said, motioning towards the vehicle. “i’ll give you a lift to school.” a twinge of anxiety made you hesitate. “no, thank you. your family could see us.”

taehyung’s eyes twinkled with a mixture of mischief and reassurance. “that’s why you should get in quickly.” defeated by his insistence, you reluctantly slid into the back seat, the leather upholstery cool against your skin. his gaze was fixed on you as he settled beside you. he leaned in slightly, his voice soft and curious. “did you sleep well?”

you brushed off his concern with a shrug. “why are you doing this? you don’t have to.” he feigned innocence, his expression playful. “doing what?”

“giving me a ride,” you clarified, a note of exasperation in your voice. “why?” before he could respond, you told the driver to stop as you neared the school. however, taehyung quickly intervened. “no, go straight to campus,” he instructed firmly.

you stared at him, a mix of frustration and disbelief on your face. “are you out of your mind? i don’t want to draw attention.” with a dramatic gasp, he pointed behind you. “look!”

confused and curious, you turned your head to see what had caught his attention. as you glanced back, taehyung took the opportunity to lean in closer, his head resting lightly on your shoulder. the warmth of his breath on your skin sent a shiver down your spine. when you looked back at him, your eyes widened in shock. his satisfied smile was the only hint of his triumph. the closeness between you was unexpected, and his casual display of affection left you momentarily stunned. the car ride, once a mundane task, now seemed fraught with unspoken emotions and shifting dynamics.

the driver navigated the streets smoothly, and as the campus loomed into view, you felt a mix of anxiety and anticipation. you had hoped for a quiet, uneventful start to your day, but taehyung’s presence had turned that expectation on its head. when the car finally pulled up to the entrance of the school, he sat up, his demeanor effortlessly casual. “here we are,” he said, his voice warm.

as you and taehyung stepped out of the car, a hush fell over the school grounds. the sight of him, the younger kim son, walking beside you—someone who had been, until now, a mere acquaintance—was enough to set the student body abuzz. whispers and incredulous glances followed you both, and you could feel the weight of their stares pressing down on you. “is that kim taehyung?” a student murmured, eyes wide with disbelief. “what’s he doing with her?” another voice asked, tinged with curiosity. “looks like they’re pretty close,” a third student speculated.

taehyung walked with an air of casual confidence, his posture relaxed despite the scrutiny. you glanced around, noticing yoongi standing amidst the crowd. his eyes were locked on you, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. jungkook, standing beside him, seemed equally intrigued.

“what’s taehyung doing? who is she?” jungkook asked, his gaze shifting between taehyung and you. yoongi's eyes narrowed slightly as he replied, “that’s what i’m trying to figure out.”

you quickly averted your gaze, focusing on reaching your locker. taehyung followed close behind, his presence both reassuring and unsettling. as you approached your locker, jieun and jimin came running up to you, their expressions a mix of excitement and concern. “what are you doing with him?” jieun asked, her eyes shooting a skeptical look at taehyung.

“i’m his tutor,” you explained, trying to sound casual despite the intensity of the situation. jimin’s laughter erupted unexpectedly, drawing taehyung’s attention. “seriously? that’s hilarious. you’re his tutor?” his amusement was evident, but taehyung’s glare cut through the mirth.

“what’s so funny?” he demanded, his tone sharp. jieun stepped in, a defensive glint in her eyes. “watch how you talk to him. that's my boyfriend.”

taehyung raised his hands in mock surrender, a wry smile on his face. “i’m shaking in my boots.” jimin chuckled, shaking his head. “i’ll catch up with you later. i have class.” he glanced at jieun, who followed him with a playful sigh, “and don’t think you’re getting out of class either.”

you laughed softly as they walked away, the tension easing slightly. turning to taehyung, you started walking toward your class. he fell into step beside you, curiosity evident in his eyes. “you and jimin seem pretty close,” he said, breaking the silence. “what’s your relationship?”

“he’s my best friend,” you replied, smiling at the memory of your long friendship. “we’ve known each other since childhood.” taehyung’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “so many years, and you’ve never dated?”

you scoffed lightly. “of course not. boys and girls can be friends without dating.” taehyung’s expression shifted, a mixture of skepticism and intrigue crossing his face. “i don’t believe that’s true.”

you looked at him, puzzled. “why not?” he gave you a small, enigmatic smile. “no man of yours could be just a friend and nothing more. there’s always something else.”

his words hung in the air as he veered off towards his own class, leaving you standing there, stunned. the notion that a simple friendship could be questioned so easily made you reflect on your own relationships and the assumptions others might make. as he disappeared down the hallway, you shook your head and turned towards your own classroom, the thoughts of his comments mingling with the buzz of the day’s events. the unexpected dynamics and the shifting perceptions only added to the whirlwind of your life at school.

as the final bell of your psychology class rang, you gathered your belongings with the usual routine: slipping textbooks into your bag, organizing notes, and shutting down your laptop. the classroom was starting to empty, the chatter of students preparing for their next classes filling the air. you were just about to sling your bag over your shoulder when a figure loomed in your peripheral vision.

you looked up, startled to find yoongi leaning casually against your table, his smirk unmistakable. “what do you want?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. yoongi shrugged nonchalantly. “an explanation would do it.”

“of what?” you replied, confused. his presence and vague statements were unnerving. before he could answer, jieun walked in, her eyes immediately darting between you and yoongi. “what’s going on here?”

yoongi’s smirk widened. “perfect timing,” he said, his tone dripping with malice. Without another word, he grabbed your bag, yanked it off the table, and dumped its contents onto the floor. books, notebooks, and pens scattered across the tiles. you were stunned, your mind struggling to process what was happening.

jieun’s eyes widened in shock. “what the hell do you think you’re doing?” she snapped, her voice laced with anger.

ignoring her, yoongi reached for her bag and, before she could react, emptied it onto the floor next to your scattered items. her possessions—a sleek wallet, a tube of lipstick, and an assortment of decorative items—joined the mess. the contrast between your straightforward, practical items and jieun’s high-end accessories was glaringly obvious. the classroom’s atmosphere grew tense as students started peeking through the open door, their murmurs rising in volume. yoongi turned to them with a mocking smile, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. “did you all see that?” he asked, his voice carrying.

you felt a wave of humiliation wash over you, your face burning with embarrassment. jieun quickly knelt beside you, helping you gather your things with a mix of frustration and urgency. “i can’t believe this,” she muttered as she worked. yoongi’s gaze shifted back to you, his smirk unwavering. “so, who exactly are you, (y/n) (l/n)?” he asked, his tone both curious and taunting.

as the students watched the scene unfold, one hurriedly made her way to the nearest classroom, breathless and urgent. “yoongi’s causing a scene with (y/n) and jieun!” she shouted, pushing open the door and interrupting the lecture. taehyung’s head snapped up at the news. without a moment’s hesitation, he stood, his expression a mix of concern and determination. the classroom fell silent as he strode out, his steps quick and purposeful. he navigated the crowded hallways with urgency, his heart pounding in sync with his hurried pace.

as he arrived at the scene, the chaos greeted him like a tempest. the classroom was filled with murmurs and gasps, the students huddling near the door to catch a glimpse of the unfolding drama. taehyung’s gaze swept over the scattered contents on the floor, jieun standing beside you with a look of frustrated disbelief, and yoongi smirking triumphantly.

without wasting a second, taehyung’s voice cut through the tension, sharp and commanding. “everyone out,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. the students shuffled out of the room, their faces a mix of curiosity and apprehension. the door closed with a soft thud, leaving just the three of you and yoongi in the room.

yoongi turned to face taehyung, his smirk still intact despite the hostile atmosphere. “always meddling in things that don’t concern you,” he said dismissively. taehyung’s eyes flashed with anger. “shut up,” he retorted, his voice low and dangerous. he turned to you, his expression softening as he handed you your bag with a reassuring smile. “are you okay?”

you nodded, though your heart was racing. “yes, thank you.” taehyung turned back to yoongi, his demeanor shifting to one of steely resolve. “if you have an issue with (y/n), then you talk to me about it,” he stated firmly.

yoongi’s gaze darkened, and he stepped closer, his voice dripping with venom. “know your place. your own brother doesn’t love you—what makes you so sure she will?”

the taunt was the final straw. taehyung’s face flushed with anger, and before anyone could react, he swung his fist, landing a solid punch to yoongi’s jaw. the impact echoed in the room, sending yoongi staggering backward. he caught his balance, his eyes narrowing in fury. he retaliated swiftly, his own punch connecting with taehyung’s cheek. the force of the blow made him stumble slightly, but he quickly steadied himself. the two of them were now fully engaged in a brutal exchange of punches and kicks, their movements fast and chaotic.

you watched in shock, your body frozen in place as the fight unfolded before your eyes. taehyung’s normally composed demeanor was replaced with raw aggression, each punch fueled by a mixture of anger and frustration. yoongi’s smirk had long vanished, replaced by a scowl of determination. the sound of fists connecting with flesh, grunts of pain, and heavy breathing filled the room.

taehyung’s punches were powerful, driven by his anger at yoongi’s provocation. he landed several blows, each one more forceful than the last. yoongi, though initially caught off guard, fought back with equal intensity. his movements were quick and calculated, aiming to exploit any openings in taehyung’s defense. the classroom was now a makeshift arena, the desks and chairs pushed aside in the frenzy. you watched helplessly, your pleas for taehyung to stop lost amid the chaos. the students who had remained in the hallway were pressed against the glass of the door, their faces etched with a mix of horror and fascination.

just as the fight seemed to reach its peak, a stern voice cut through the commotion. “enough!” the principal commanded, her tone authoritative and unwavering. taehyung and yoongi immediately froze, their chests heaving with heavy breaths. the principal stepped into the room, her expression a blend of sternness and concern. her presence alone was enough to command immediate compliance.

“both of you, come with me,” she said, her voice brooking no argument. “we’re going to the office.” taehyung and yoongi exchanged one last, heated glance before reluctantly following her out of the classroom. the students who had been watching from the hallway slowly began to disperse, their murmurs growing louder as they speculated about what they had just witnessed.

in the principal’s office, the atmosphere was thick with tension. taehyung and yoongi sat across from the principal’s desk, their faces flushed from the recent altercation. her stern gaze swept over them, her demeanor one of controlled irritation. “now, what exactly happened?” she demanded, her voice calm but carrying an unmistakable edge.

yoongi leaned forward slightly, his posture relaxed despite the seriousness of the situation. “i’m truly sorry, principal kim,” he said with a hint of insincerity in his tone. “it’s common for friends to have disagreements and fights. it won’t happen again, i assure you.”

her eyes narrowed. “it may be common for friends to argue, but this was not just a disagreement. this was a violent altercation in the middle of a classroom, and you both need to understand the severity of your actions.” she turned her gaze to taehyung. “and you, kim taehyung, will fall off if you continue to let your temper control you. i expect better from you.” his jaw tightened, but he remained silent, clearly restraining himself.

the principal leaned back in her chair, her expression softening slightly as she concluded, “you both need to leave my office now. consider this a warning. any further disruptions will be dealt with more severely.” as they exited the office, the weight of the principal’s reprimand hung heavy in the air. taehyung’s face was set in a grim line, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. yoongi, on the other hand, seemed unfazed, a smirk playing on his lips as he followed him out into the hallway.

once outside, taehyung rounded on yoongi, his voice low but edged with menace. “stay away from (y/n).” yoongi clicked his tongue, his smirk widening. “i can’t do that,” he said, pausing for effect. “i’m just as interested in her as you are, old friend.”

the words hung in the air, their implications clear. with a final, mocking glance, yoongi turned on his heel and walked away, his footsteps echoing down the hallway. taehyung watched him go, his expression a mix of frustration and concern. his fists remained clenched, his knuckles white as he tried to steady his breathing. the conversation with the principal had done little to quell the storm brewing inside him. the mention of your name by yoongi had only fueled his anger further, intensifying the protective instincts he felt toward you.

back in the opulent study of the kim family manor, the air was heavy with disapproval. the room, lined with dark mahogany bookshelves and bathed in the muted glow of a desk lamp, seemed to amplify the sternness of the chairman. taehyung stood near the grand mahogany desk, his posture stiff and eyes lowered, as his father paced behind it, a frown etched deeply into his features.

“taehyung,” his father began, his voice stern, “i heard about the altercation at school today. explain yourself.”

his heart raced, and he hesitated, struggling to find the right words. he swallowed hard before speaking, his voice tinged with distress. “it was yoongi. he said something about my brother, about our family.” he trailed off, not wanting to delve into the specifics of yoongi’s taunts or his own actions that followed.

his father’s expression shifted from anger to a weary frustration. “taehyung, you must learn to control your impulses. acting rashly only undermines your position and creates unnecessary complications.” taehyung nodded, barely able to meet his father’s gaze. “i understand.”

as he turned to leave, the door opened, and taehyung’s older brother stepped into the study. for a fleeting moment, taehyung’s heart leapt with hope. perhaps it was a sign of reconciliation, or at least a chance for meaningful conversation. his joy was short-lived, however, when his brother’s icy tone cut through the room.

“taehyung,” his brother said sharply, “don’t ever make a fool of yourself like that again.” with that, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving taehyung standing there, his heart sinking with each step his brother took. the weight of disappointment and isolation settled heavily on his shoulders as he left the study.

meanwhile, in a starkly different setting, yoongi was engaged in a rigorous judo practice session with his father in the family dojo. the dojo, a spacious room with polished wooden floors and walls adorned with traditional Korean art, echoed with the grunts of exertion and the rhythmic thud of bodies hitting the mat.

yoongi, dressed in a white judogi, faced his father across the mat. his father, a formidable figure with an aura of authority, was already in a stance, his eyes sharp and focused. the session began with intense speed, both men moving with practiced precision. yoongi aimed a swift foot sweep at his father, who countered effortlessly with a firm grip, twisting yoongi’s arm and forcing him to the mat.

breathing heavily, yoongi rolled to his feet, his movements fluid despite the strain. “father,” he said as he reset his stance, “i want to explain what happened with taehyung today.” his father’s eyes narrowed. “very well, but remember, actions speak louder than words. show me.”

they resumed their fighting stance, and yoongi executed a series of rapid movements—a throw followed by a high kick—trying to subdue his father. his father, however, was a step ahead, using yoongi’s momentum against him. he deflected his attempts with ease and threw him to the mat again. “taehyung threw the first punch,” he said between gasps for air as he scrambled to his feet. “i just reacted.”

his father, now visibly annoyed, grabbed him and pinned him down with a decisive maneuver, his face contorted with a mix of anger and disappointment. “you're weak,” he spat out, “it's the reason you can’t beat taehyung. it’s why you’ll never beat me.”

with a final, forceful move, he released yoongi and left him sprawled on the mat, breathless and defeated. he lay there, staring up at the ceiling, his father’s words echoing in his mind. the lesson was harsh and uncompromising, a stark reminder of the high standards and expectations he was constantly under. as he gathered himself, he could feel the sting of failure mingling with the bruises forming on his body.

the evening had settled into a soft twilight as you made your way up the grand stairs of taehyung's manor. the mansion, with its opulent decor and sprawling architecture, was a stark contrast to the modesty of your own surroundings. you held a medical kit and a stack of textbooks close, a determined frown on your face. the events of the day lingered in your mind, especially the bruises and cuts you’d seen on him.

as you reached his room, you hesitated for a brief moment before knocking. the door swung open to reveal him, his face bearing the marks of the day’s earlier confrontation. the bruises on his cheek were a dark, purpling hue, and a cut above his eyebrow was still fresh, blood oozing sluggishly. his eyes met yours, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something—perhaps embarrassment or discomfort—before he masked it with a casual smile.

“hey,” you said, trying to keep your tone light despite the shock you felt. “i brought this. let me clean those cuts up.” he raised an eyebrow, his smile slightly wobbly. “you don’t have to go through all that trouble. i’m fine.”

“not a chance,” you replied firmly, stepping into his room. “sit down. you look like you’ve been through a warzone.”

with a resigned sigh, he sat on the edge of his bed, his posture relaxed but his gaze on you as you unpacked the kit. he watched with a mix of curiosity and something softer in his eyes. as you approached him with a sterile wipe, he flinched slightly at the sting of the antiseptic. “stop being such a baby,” you teased, rolling your eyes. “it’s just a little sting.”

he chuckled softly, the sound a low, soothing rumble in the quiet of the room. his eyes wandered over your face, taking in the way your brows furrowed in concentration and the way you bit your lip as you worked. there was something almost tender in his gaze, though he masked it with a casual smile.

“what’s so funny?” you asked, glancing up at him as you dabbed at a particularly stubborn cut. “you,” he said with a grin. “you’re just pretty, that’s all.”

your face flushed a deep shade of pink. “cut it out,” you said, trying to sound exasperated but unable to suppress the smile that tugged at the corners of your lips. “open your book. we have some studying to do.”

taehyung complied, opening his textbook to the physics section you’d discussed earlier. you settled next to him, placing the medical kit aside and spreading out your textbooks and notes. you pointed out the relevant formulas, meticulously writing them down on a notepad. his eyes followed your movements, occasionally flicking up to meet yours with a look of appreciation.

as you explained a particularly tricky concept, you could feel his gaze lingering on you. it was an unspoken compliment in his eyes, and every so often, he would nod thoughtfully, taking in the information you provided. after a while, you handed him a practice problem. he worked through it with a furrowed brow, his concentration evident. when he finally looked up with a grin, having solved the problem correctly, you couldn’t help but beam with pride.

“well done,” you said warmly. “you learned well.” his smile widened, a genuine warmth in his eyes. “my tutor taught me well,” he said, his voice low and sincere.

the atmosphere in the room softened, the earlier tension dissipating into a comfortable setting. you continued to go over more problems with him, your laughter and his occasional teasing filling the space between you. each smile and laugh seemed to draw you closer, making the evening’s tutoring session feel less like a task and more like a shared moment of genuine connection.

as the night grew darker, and you packed up your things to leave, taehyung walked you to the door. he looked at you with a mixture of gratitude and something more, a hint of admiration that made your heart flutter.

“thank you,” he said softly, his voice carrying a sincerity that warmed you. “i really appreciate this.” you nodded, your cheeks still slightly flushed. “anytime. and next time, try not to get into any more fights, alright?” he laughed, a sound that felt like a promise of brighter days ahead. “i’ll do my best.”

as you left the manor, the evening air was crisp and carried with it the faint scent of blooming flowers from the surrounding gardens. the grandeur of the manor faded behind you, its tall gates closing with a soft clang. you were lost in thought, replaying the warmth of the evening and the unexpected kindness you had shared with taehyung.

but as you walked past the wrought-iron gates, a loud roar of a motorcycle broke through your reverie. you turned, your heart sinking as you saw the sleek black motorcycle pull up beside you. the rider, clad in black leather and a helmet, stopped just a few feet in front of you. the world seemed to slow as the rider dismounted, and the helmet was lifted to reveal his familiar smirk.

“well, well,” yoongi drawled, his voice dripping with mock curiosity. “am i dreaming, or did i just see you leaving kim taehyung’s house?”

your heart sank further, frustration bubbling up inside you. “i’m his tutor,” you said tersely, trying to keep your voice steady. his eyebrows shot up in surprise, and his smirk widened, turning into something more sardonic. “really? is it that bad that you need to stoop so low? are you that desperate for money?” his words were like sharp thorns, pricking at your patience. you clenched your fists at your sides, feeling a surge of anger rise up. the world around you seemed to narrow to just the two of you, the night air suddenly feeling colder.

“you have no idea,” you snapped, your voice trembling with barely contained emotion. “i’m broke. i work multiple jobs to support my mom because my dad passed away. i didn’t get to eat off the same silver plate you did. i don’t care what you think or what you do with that information. i’m done playing your games.”

his smirk faltered, his expression shifting to one of stunned silence. for a moment, he stood there, caught off guard by the raw honesty of your words. the night air seemed to grow heavier between you, charged with the weight of your confession. you pushed past him, not giving him a chance to respond. the cool breeze of the evening felt soothing against your heated cheeks as you walked away, each step a release of the pent-up frustration you’d been holding. you could feel yoongi’s gaze on your back, but you didn’t turn around.

the next day at school, the morning sunlight filtered through the windows, casting long, warm shadows across the hallways. you made your way to your locker, the familiar hum of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter from students filling the air. as you approached, your phone buzzed in your pocket, its screen lighting up with yoongi’s name.

you sighed, your fingers reaching for your phone just as it began to ring. you were about to swipe to answer when suddenly, taehyung appeared beside you, his hand moving with quick precision. before you could react, he snatched your phone from your grasp. you opened your mouth to protest, but he had already answered the call.

“stop calling her,” his voice was firm, cutting through the background noise of the school. yoongi’s voice came through the speaker, laced with casual annoyance. “you never seem to know where your place is. i just wanted to ask her to have lunch with me.”

taehyung’s response was immediate, a scoff escaping his lips. “she’s not hungry.” with that, he ended the call abruptly, his expression a mix of irritation and resolve. he handed your phone back to you with a dismissive air. you stared at him, taken aback by the sudden and assertive interference. “are you out of your mind?” you demanded, frustration lacing your tone. “what was that about?”

taehyung’s face remained stern, his gaze intense as he met your eyes. “i don’t want you talking to yoongi.”

“why?” you asked, bewildered. “what’s the big deal?” he hesitated for a moment, as if grappling with how much to reveal. “i like you,” he said finally, his voice softer but earnest. “i don’t want to see you with other guys.”

a flutter of butterflies took flight in your stomach at his confession, but you tried to keep your composure. “you’re from a different world,” you said with a scoff, despite the flurry of emotions bubbling up inside you. “it’ll never happen.”

his eyes didn’t waver, and he seemed unperturbed by your words. instead, he continued, his voice steady, “do you feel the same way?” you shook your head, feeling the weight of his question. “it doesn’t matter how i feel. your family would never accept it.”

a heavy silence fell between you. taehyung’s expression hardened slightly, a look of determination settling over his features. before you could say more, he stepped back, giving you space but still watching you intently. with a sigh, you turned and walked toward your next class, the day stretching out before you. the butterflies in your stomach continued to flutter, their presence a constant reminder of his unexpected confession. each step felt heavier than the last, your thoughts a whirlwind of emotions and uncertainties.

as the professor’s announcement echoed through the classroom, excitement rippled through the students like a wave. the camping trip was to be a weekend adventure, an opportunity to escape the confines of academic life and immerse themselves in nature. a chorus of enthusiastic voices filled the room, with students already speculating about the activities and sharing plans for the trip.

you, however, felt a knot of apprehension forming in your stomach. the idea of spending an entire weekend away, particularly with the tension and complications of your current situation, left you feeling uneasy. as you scanned the room, your gaze met taehyung’s. his expression was a complex blend of sternness and something else—perhaps resignation or frustration. he watched you with a defeated look, his eyes reflecting the weight of unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

on the other side of the room, you felt yoongi’s gaze on you. the smirk playing on his lips was unmistakable, a self-assured glint in his eyes as if he relished the drama of the situation. his attention seemed solely focused on you, adding an extra layer of discomfort to your already fraught emotions.

jimin placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. his voice, light and teasing, cut through the tension. “did you get into an argument with your student?” he asked, his tone playful. you scoffed, a mix of frustration and amusement surfacing. “you're the worst.”

he chuckled, shaking his head. “come on, lighten up. you should have fun while you can.” his words were meant to be comforting, but they did little to ease the knot in your stomach. you offered him a weak smile, appreciating his attempt to lift your spirits, though the weight of the upcoming trip felt heavy on your shoulders.

for the rest of the day, taehyung maintained a deafening silence around you. his demeanor was distant, almost cold. whenever your paths crossed, he would quickly avert his gaze or walk away, his avoidance palpable and disheartening. his usual warmth and playful banter were replaced by an impenetrable barrier, and you couldn’t help but feel the sting of his withdrawal.

the forest was a breathtaking expanse of verdant splendor, a living tapestry of emerald hues and dappled sunlight. tall, ancient trees stood sentinel, their leaves whispering softly in the gentle breeze that wove through the forest canopy. the ground beneath your feet was a soft carpet of moss and fallen leaves, muffling your steps as you walked. the air was crisp and fragrant, filled with the earthy aroma of pine and the faint, sweet scent of wildflowers.

as you meandered along the winding path, your heart sank with every glance that failed to catch sight of taehyung. the weight of his absence was palpable, a dull ache that gnawed at you as you took in the beauty around you. the forest, though enchanting, seemed to mock your solitude, its serenity juxtaposed with your inner turmoil.

walking alongside you were jimin and jieun, their cheerful conversation a stark contrast to your pensive mood. jimin was animatedly recounting a humorous story from a past camping trip. his laughter was infectious, and jieun’s giggles provided a lighthearted counterpoint.

“remember that time i tried to roast marshmallows over an open flame and ended up setting my sleeve on fire?” jimin said with a chuckle. jieun burst into laughter, shaking her head. “how could i forget? i had to put out the flames with my water bottle.”

jimin grinned sheepishly. “well, at least we didn’t end up in the hospital that time.”

“you’re lucky i was there to save the day,” jieun teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

you managed a small smile at their interaction, their relationship a brief respite from your worries. despite their light-hearted banter, you could feel the tension of yoongi’s gaze boring into you from behind. his presence was a constant, uncomfortable reminder of the unresolved tension between you. his dark eyes seemed to follow your every move, and you could sense his scrutiny even without turning to look.

jungkook, walking beside him, appeared to be curious about his friend’s fixation. “what’s the deal with you and her?” he asked, his tone casual. yoongi shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk playing at his lips. “i wish i knew. there’s just something about her that catches my interest.”

jungkook squinted his eyes as he assessed you from a distance. “she’s not bad. don’t blame you.” the comment earned him a sharp glare from yoongi. “careful,” he warned, his tone edged with irritation. “don't make me beat your ass, too.”

jungkook raised an eyebrow but said no more, sensing the undercurrent of tension. he focused instead on the beauty of the forest, the towering trees and the dappled sunlight creating a picturesque backdrop.

as you continued along the path, you tried to push yoongi’s gaze to the back of your mind, focusing instead on the tranquility of the surroundings and the lively conversation of your friends. the forest was enchanting, a sanctuary of natural beauty that was meant to be savored. yet, despite its allure, your thoughts remained with taehyung, and the emptiness of his absence cast a shadow over the otherwise perfect setting.

the school gymnasium was an expanse of silence, the usual echoes of bouncing basketballs and student chatter replaced by the soft rustle of fabric and the faint hum of air conditioning. taehyung lay sprawled on the floor, his back against the smooth wooden surface, while his friend sat cross-legged beside him. the overhead lights cast a warm, artificial glow, illuminating the deserted space with a gentle radiance.

namjoon glanced over at him, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “so, why didn’t you tag along on the camping trip? i’d give a lot to go on a trip like that again,” he said, his tone light but tinged with genuine curiosity. taehyung let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “being a senior must suck, huh? no more spontaneous trips,” he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

namjoon shot him a mock glare. “yeah, thanks for the sympathy,” he retorted, his voice laced with a mix of amusement and frustration. “but seriously, what’s your excuse for skipping out?”

taehyung’s smile faltered slightly, his gaze dropping to the floor as he shifted into a more serious posture. “i wanted her to miss me,” he admitted quietly, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability. “i thought maybe if i stayed behind, she’d realize how much she needs me.”

namjoon raised an eyebrow, his expression shifting to one of mild incredulity. “you do realize you left her with yoongi, right?” the weight of his words hit taehyung like a physical blow. his eyes widened as the realization sank in, and he buried his face in his hands, his shoulders slumping in defeat. the silence of the gym seemed to press in on him, amplifying his feelings of regret and frustration. “i forgot,” he muttered, his voice muffled by the fabric of his palms. “i didn’t think about how much trouble yoongi would cause. i just wanted to make sure she felt my absence.”

namjoon’s gaze softened with a mix of sympathy and exasperation. he patted his back gently. “look, man, you can’t always control how people react to you. sometimes, you have to trust that things will work out on their own.” taehyung sighed, lifting his head to look at him with a rueful smile. “i know. i guess i wanted to be the one she thought about, the one who made her day better.”

namjoon gave him a reassuring smile. “you still have a chance to show her that, but not if you sit here and brood. maybe you should go find her. let her know that you’re here and that you care.” taehyung nodded, a renewed determination in his eyes. “you’re right. i need to make things right.”

the forest surrounding your campsite was a picturesque canvas of lush greens and earthy browns, the towering trees providing a serene canopy that filtered the soft rays of the setting sun. the air was crisp, filled with the invigorating scent of pine and the distant murmur of a flowing stream. you were in the midst of setting up your tent, your fingers fumbling with the fabric and poles, your mind more preoccupied with recent events than the task at hand.

as you struggled with the stubborn tent pole, a voice suddenly cut through your concentration. “you’re doing it all wrong.” startled, you turned around to find yoongi approaching you, his expression a mix of amusement and mild exasperation. he looked effortlessly composed, the rugged outdoor setting only enhancing his enigmatic charm. his presence was both unnerving and oddly reassuring, a strange paradox that made your heart race.

“here, let me help you,” he said, stepping closer and taking the tent pole from your hands with an ease that suggested he had done this many times before. you stood there, momentarily frozen, watching as he expertly assembled the tent, his movements fluid and precise.

“thank you,” you managed to say, your voice tinged with genuine gratitude and a hint of surprise. you hadn’t expected him to offer any assistance, especially after your recent interactions. to your further astonishment, he smiled—a rare, genuine smile that softened his usually intense demeanor. “if you want to thank me,” he began, his tone carrying an undercurrent of something you couldn’t quite place, “you should stop.”

you blinked, confusion clouding your thoughts. “stop? stop what?” yoongi scoffed lightly, his eyes briefly meeting yours before he turned his attention back to fixing the last bit of the tent. “stop driving me crazy,” he said, his voice low and almost tender, the words carrying a weight that hung in the cool evening air.

with that cryptic remark, he stood up, brushing the dirt from his hands, and walked away, leaving you standing there, stunned and bewildered. the forest around you seemed to echo with the faint rustle of leaves and the distant calls of birds, a stark contrast to the turmoil of emotions swirling inside you. the forest grew quieter as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows that danced in the dimming light. you took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart and calm your restless thoughts. the camping trip had barely begun, and already it was proving to be more eventful than you had anticipated.

as the sun set and the shadows grew longer, you found yourself standing by the campfire, the warmth of the flames casting a comforting glow on your face. the crackling fire filled the air with a sense of camaraderie, but your thoughts were elsewhere, swirling with confusion and curiosity about yoongi's earlier words. just then, a hushed conversation from the nearby tent caught your attention. you turned slightly, trying to make out the voices.

“did you see her with taehyung earlier?” one girl asked, her voice dripping with curiosity. “no, i saw her with yoongi,” another replied, a hint of scandal in her tone. “she’s such a slut,” the third girl sneered, her words cutting through the night like a knife.

your heart sank, and you felt a rush of anger and humiliation rise within you. before you could react, you felt something soft and warm being pulled over your head. you turned around to find yoongi standing there, his hoodie now draped over your shoulders. his face was set in a scowl, eyes dark with protective anger. “don’t listen to them,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “don’t let them get to you.”

you were too stunned to speak, only able to nod as his words resonated with you. the girls continued their snide comments, oblivious to yoongi’s presence. you watched as his gaze flicked to the front of their tent, where their sneakers were lined up neatly. without a word, he walked over and snatched the shoes, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “what are you doing?” you whispered, following him as he strode purposefully toward a nearby bucket full of water.

he glanced at you, a wicked smile playing on his lips. “teaching them a lesson,” he replied, before dumping the sneakers into the water. you couldn’t help but gasp, a mix of disbelief and amusement flooding you. “why would you do that?” you asked, half-laughing despite yourself.

he turned to you, his expression serious. “because nobody gets to pick on you. except for me,” he added with a smirk, the playful edge returning to his voice. you felt a strange warmth spread through you at his words. It was a peculiar kind of protectiveness, one that left you feeling both cared for and slightly exasperated by his audacity. the girls' voices ceased abruptly when they discovered their soggy shoes, their shrieks of outrage echoing through the campsite. yoongi’s smirk widened, clearly pleased with the chaos he had caused.

the night had deepened, the flickering campfire casting dancing shadows on the surrounding trees. uou and yoongi sat by the flames, a strange bond forming in the silence between you. just as you were beginning to feel a tentative peace, a familiar voice shattered the tranquility.

“have you had enough?” the voice asked, tinged with an unmistakable edge.

you turned, your heart stopping for a moment when you saw taehyung standing there, his expression dark and unreadable. yoongi scoffed, his irritation clear. “you always find a way to ruin things, don't you?” he retorted, his voice dripping with disdain.

taehyung ignored his taunt, his eyes fixed on you. before you could react, he strode forward, grabbed your wrist, and pulled you away from the fire. yoongi’s voice followed you, laced with a smirk. “you make me want her even more,” he called out, the words hanging in the air like a challenge.

perplexed and a bit alarmed, you allowed taehyung to guide you into the forest, the sounds of the camp fading behind you. his grip on your wrist was firm but not painful, his silence heavy with unspoken words. finally, you found your voice. “what’s your problem?” you asked, frustration bubbling to the surface.

taehyung stopped abruptly and turned to face you, his eyes blazing. “i don’t care what my family thinks,” he snapped. “it’s no reason for me not to like you.” his words took you by surprise, and you felt your heart soften. “taehyung,” you began, unsure of what to say. “i don’t know what to say.”

“don’t say anything,” he interrupted, his voice raw with emotion. without warning, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against him. you were stunned, your mind racing, but as the initial shock faded, you found yourself relaxing into his embrace. tentatively, you wrapped your arms around him, returning the hug. his warmth enveloped you, and for a moment, the rest of the world seemed to fade away. the forest around you was quiet, the rustle of leaves the only sound accompanying your racing heartbeats.

you could feel the tension in his body slowly dissipating, replaced by a vulnerability that he rarely showed. his grip on you tightened, as if he was afraid to let go and lose this moment. you stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, the silence between you filled with a thousand unspoken words.

the morning sun bathed the forest in a golden glow as your group made its way along the winding path towards the hotel for breakfast. the air was crisp and cool, filled with the scents of pine and earth. you walked beside jieun and jimin, their light-hearted banter a soothing background to your thoughts. “did you sleep well?” jieun asked, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.

you nodded, offering her a small smile. “as well as one can in a sleeping bag,” you replied, trying to match her cheerful tone.

jimin chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “we should have a competition for the worst bedhead,” he joked, ruffling jieun's already tousled hair. taehyung walked a few steps behind you, his presence a comforting weight on your mind. every now and then, you could feel his gaze on you, but you didn’t turn around. Instead, you focused on the path ahead, trying to keep your thoughts from wandering too far back to the previous night.

further back in the group, jungkook was busy going through the photos he had taken with his camera. his fingers deftly navigated through the shots until he stopped at a series of pictures. they were candid shots of you and yoongi by the campfire, your faces illuminated by the dancing flames. he smirked as he showed the photos to yoongi. “look at these,” he teased, nudging him playfully. “you look like a lovesick puppy.”

yoongi glanced at the photos, a faint smile playing on his lips. “so that’s what i look like,” he mused softly, almost to himself. “when I’m looking at her,”

jungkook’s eyes widened in horror as yoongi’s smile grew, a rare and genuine expression that made his usual aloof demeanor melt away. “are you serious?” he asked, his voice laced with disbelief. he didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still on the photos. when he finally spoke, his voice was calm and resolute. “maybe i am,” he said simply, his smile never wavering.

as the group continued walking, the path began to widen, revealing glimpses of the hotel ahead. the building was nestled among the trees, its rustic charm blending seamlessly with the natural surroundings. the sight of it brought a sense of anticipation, a promise of warmth and comfort after the chilly morning hike. you could feel the mood lighten as the group neared the hotel. conversations grew livelier, and laughter echoed through the trees. jieun and jimin were deep in a playful argument about the best breakfast foods, their voices rising and falling in a familiar rhythm.

you smiled at their exchange, grateful for the distraction. but even as you laughed along with them, you couldn’t shake the feeling of taehyung’s gaze. every now and then, you glanced back, catching his eye for just a moment before looking away. when the hotel came fully into view, the group quickened its pace, eager for the promise of a hearty breakfast. the warm light spilling from the windows was inviting, and you could already imagine the smell of fresh coffee and baked goods.

as you reached the hotel entrance, jimin held the door open with a flourish. “ladies first,” he said with a grin, gesturing for you and jieun to enter. “such a gentleman,” she teased, giving him a playful shove as she walked past. you followed her inside, the warmth of the hotel wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. the dining area was cozy, filled with the chatter of other guests and the clinking of cutlery. you found a table near the window, the morning light casting a soft glow over everything.

the morning sun hung high in the sky, casting shimmering reflections on the surface of the pool outside the cafeteria. the earlier excitement of the camping trip had faded, replaced by the persistent whispers and judgmental looks from the same girls who had tormented you the night before. their voices, though hushed, reached your ears, making your breakfast sit like a lead weight in your stomach. frustrated and fed up, you abandoned your plate and left the cafeteria, seeking solace in the quiet by the pool. you stared into the water, trying to calm your racing heart. the tranquility of the scene was short-lived, however, as you felt a presence behind you. turning around, you were met with the sight of yoongi, his usual smirk playing on his lips.

before you could retreat, he was already upon you, his hands grabbing yours in a firm grip. you gasped in shock, trying to pull away, but he was too strong. his smirk widened as he dangled you over the edge of the pool, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“going somewhere?” he asked, his tone mocking and playful. you looked at him in shock, your heart pounding in your chest. the world seemed to slow as you realized what was about to happen. before you could protest, he let go, and you plunged into the cold water. the shock of the impact stole your breath, and you surfaced, wiping the water from your eyes.

he crouched by the edge of the pool, laughing. “sorry, i slipped,” he said, his voice dripping with insincerity.

as you blinked the water from your eyes, you saw the commotion his actions had caused. students were clamoring inside, drawn by the spectacle. in an instant, taehyung stood up from his seat in the cafeteria and walked out, his expression darkening with each step.

before he could react, taehyung reached him and, with a swift movement, kicked him into the pool. “sorry, i slipped,” he said, with the same amount if insincerity.

jieun and jimin rushed out, their faces a mix of concern and amusement. jimin extended a hand to help you out, but jieun frantically pushed him away. “no, no, take my hand,” she insisted, her eyes wide with worry. you took her hand, and she pulled you out of the pool with surprising strength. water dripped from your clothes, and you felt the eyes of the crowd on you, adding to your embarrassment. you locked eyes with taehyung for a brief moment, his gaze filled with a mixture of concern and something deeper that you couldn’t quite place.

“are you okay?” jimin asked, his voice soft and soothing. you nodded, though you could feel the heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck. “i’m fine,” you managed to say, your voice steady despite the tumult of emotions inside you. taehyung’s eyes never left you as you walked away, wet and humiliated. the laughter and whispers of the students faded into the background, and you focused on putting one foot in front of the other. you needed to get away, to find a quiet place where you could collect yourself.

as you walked, your thoughts swirled. the events of the past few days had been overwhelming, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread about what was to come. taehyung’s concern for you was touching, but it also added to the confusion in your heart. you couldn’t deny the flutter of butterflies when he was near, but the differences between your worlds seemed insurmountable.

you found a quiet corner behind the hotel, away from prying eyes, and sat down, letting the sun warm your wet clothes. the silence was a balm to your frayed nerves, giving you a moment to breathe and process everything that had happened. taehyung’s words echoed in your mind, his declaration of not caring what his family thought. it was a bold statement, one that filled you with equal parts hope and fear. you knew that your feelings for him were real, but the complications seemed endless.

lost in thought, you didn’t hear the footsteps approaching until it was too late. you looked up to see taehyung standing there, his eyes soft and filled with concern. “are you alright?” he asked, his voice gentle.

you nodded, unable to find the words. he sat down beside you, his presence a comforting weight. the silence between you was heavy with unspoken words, but for now, it was enough to simply be there, together.

“thank you,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. he smiled, a small, genuine smile that reached his eyes. “anytime,” he replied, and in that moment, you felt a glimmer of hope.

the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the mansion as you made your way to taehyung's room. the echoes of the day's events lingered in your mind, but you pushed them aside, focusing on the task at hand. you had a job to do, and you intended to do it well, despite the growing complications of your feelings.

his room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a desk lamp casting a warm light over the scattered books and papers. he sat at his desk, his gaze distant as he stared at the open textbook in front of him. you could sense his restlessness, the usual intensity in his eyes replaced by something else, something you couldn’t quite place.

you settled into the chair across from him, opening your notes and preparing to dive into the evening's lesson. “alright, taehyung, let's start with the themes of this chapter. i think—” you paused, noticing that his eyes were not on the book but on you. he was staring, an unspoken tension hanging in the air between you. “what's wrong?” you asked, your voice soft yet curious.

he sighed, leaning back in his chair, his eyes never leaving yours. “you're too damn distracting,” he said, his voice low and rough with frustration. the words took you by surprise. before you could respond, before you could even process what he meant, he stood up and crossed the small distance between you. his movements were swift, almost desperate, as he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours.

for a moment, you were stunned, frozen in place by the suddenness of his action. but then something within you surrendered, and you allowed yourself to melt into the kiss. it was tender and fervent, filled with all the pent-up emotions that neither of you had dared to voice. as the kiss deepened, his hands found their way to your waist, lifting you and guiding you onto the bed. the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you, the heat of the moment consuming everything else. you clung to him, your hands tangling in his hair, your heart pounding in your chest.

but then, a sliver of rationality cut through the haze of passion, and you broke the kiss, gasping for breath. “taehyung, we can't,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “your mother might hear.” he smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “then you’ll just have to be quiet,” he murmured, his lips brushing against yours once more.

his gentle touch ignited a fire in you, and you couldn’t help but respond. he was so careful, so attentive, as if he could sense every nerve ending, every soft sigh that escaped your lips. you felt your resolve slipping away as his hands roamed over your body, peeling away layers of clothing like petals from a rose. his touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine.

you lay back on the bed, allowing him to take control. his mouth followed the path of his hands, leaving a trail of kisses down your neck and chest. every caress, every suck of his lips sent waves of pleasure crashing through you. your hands found his shoulders, your nails digging in as you tried to anchor yourself in reality. but the room was spinning, the air thick with desire.

his kisses grew more urgent, his teeth grazed your skin as he moved lower. you bit your lip to stifle a moan, the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you. you felt the warmth of his breath against your stomach, and then lower still, and your entire body arched off the bed. he looked up at you, his eyes dark with need, and whispered, “do you trust me?” without a second thought, you nodded.

his mouth was on you, and the world disappeared. you could only feel the exquisite sensations he was creating, the gentle pressure of his tongue, the soft sucks that sent your senses soaring. your hands clutched at the bed sheets, your breath coming in ragged gasps. you had never felt anything so intense, so consuming. every stroke was a promise, every kiss a declaration. and when you finally reached the peak, it was with his name on your lips, his eyes holding yours in a silent understanding.

his gaze was soft as he kissed his way back up your body, his touch tender as he brushed the hair from your face. you could see the question in his eyes, but you didn’t need words. you reached for him, pulling him closer, and he settled between your legs, his own need palpable.

his hand stroked you gently, his eyes never leaving yours, until you nodded, giving him the go-ahead. and then he was inside you, filling you in a way that made you feel complete. he moved slowly at first, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort, but all you felt was an overwhelming need for more. you wrapped your legs around him, urging him deeper, your hips moving in tandem with his.

the room was filled with the sound of your muffled moans and the slick sound of skin on skin. taehyung whispered sweet nothings into your ear, his voice a soothing balm to your racing thoughts. his touch was both gentle and firm, a perfect mix of tenderness and passion that had you teetering on the edge once again.

his pace quickened, his breaths growing harsher as he approached his own climax. and when he finally reached it, you felt his whole body tense, his muscles coiling as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning over your skin.

you lay there, panting and spent, his weight a comforting presence on top of you. for a moment, you allowed yourself to revel in the feeling of him, in the warmth that surrounded you. but as the reality of what had just happened began to sink in, you couldn’t shake off the feeling of impending doom. the line between student and tutor had been crossed, and there was no going back.

he seemed to sense your unease. With a gentle sigh, he shifted beside you, his fingers tracing soothing patterns along your arm. “we should get dressed,” he murmured, his voice husky with sleep.

you nodded, biting your lip as you sat up. the remnants of the passion lingered in the air, but the urgency of the situation tugged at your mind. taehyung slipped out of bed and began to gather your clothes, handing them to you with a soft smile.

“here, let me help,” he offered, his touch tender as he helped you slip into your clothes. his fingers brushed against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. as he fastened the buttons of your blouse, he paused, his eyes locking onto yours. “don’t worry,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “everything will be okay.”

just as his reassuring words began to settle your nerves, the door burst open with a loud bang, causing both of you to jump. there, standing in the doorway, was his mother, her face a mask of shock and fury. the air seemed to freeze, tension crackling like a live wire. “i knew it,” she hissed, her voice trembling with rage and disbelief. “i knew it.”

you and taehyung were too stunned to respond at first, the reality of the situation crashing down on you with a brutal force. she turned her gaze on you, her eyes blazing with contempt. “i gave you a job, and this is how you repay me?”

“mother, please—” he began, but she cut him off, her words sharp and venomous. “and you,” she spat, rounding on him. “i raised you better than this, taehyung. how could you? she's a different breed, not one of us.”

his expression hardened, a defiant fire lighting up his eyes. “i like her,” he declared, his voice strong and unwavering. “and you’ll just have to deal with it.” his mother's face twisted in fury. “pull yourself together, taehyung. this—this cannot happen.”

tears welled up in your eyes as you took in the scene, the weight of the situation crashing down on you. “i'm so sorry,” you choked out, your voice breaking. “i never meant to—” but the words died in your throat as you saw the heartbreak in taehyung's eyes. with a final, tearful glance at him, you turned and fled the room, the walls closing in around you as you ran down the hallway. the sound of his mother’s angry tirade echoed behind you, but all you could focus on was the pain of leaving him behind.

your heart pounded in your chest, each step a desperate attempt to escape the overwhelming emotions threatening to consume you. the mansion felt like a labyrinth, but you kept running, tears blurring your vision. you had to get out, had to find a way to breathe again. finally, you burst through the front doors and into the morning light, the crisp air a stark contrast to the suffocating atmosphere inside. you stopped, gasping for breath, the tears streaming down your face as you tried to make sense of everything that had just happened.

yoongi stood at the end of the long, winding path leading to your house, your student id clutched tightly in his hand. it had fallen straight out of your pocket after he pushed you into the hotel's pool. his heart pounded as he took in the sight before him. your home was small, much smaller than he had imagined, a stark contrast to the grandeur he was accustomed to. the modesty of it all made his heart ache, a pang of guilt and sadness settling deep within him.

as he approached, your mother appeared on the porch, her kind eyes squinting slightly as she called out, “who are you?”

“i’m yoongi,” he introduced himself, bowing respectfully. “i’m a friend of your daughter. she dropped her student id, and i wanted to return it.” her face lit up with a warm smile. “oh, thank you so much. please, come in. you must be hungry.”

he hesitated, not wanting to intrude, but her insistence was unwavering. “no, really, it’s fine. i just came to drop this off,” he tried to protest, but she waved him off, ushering him inside with a firm yet gentle hand. “nonsense. you came all this way. the least i can do is offer you a meal.”

he found himself seated on the floor, legs crossed as your mother moved about the small kitchen, preparing an array of dishes. the homely aroma filled the room, bringing a sense of warmth and comfort that was almost foreign to him. it had been a long time since he had experienced something so simple, yet so profoundly touching. when she finally set the food before him, he was taken aback by the spread. simple, yet lovingly prepared dishes adorned the low table, and his heart hurt at the sight. “thank you,” he murmured, his voice soft as he picked up his chopsticks and began to eat.

your mother watched him with a gentle smile, her eyes filled with a motherly concern. “is it good?” she asked, her voice hopeful. he nodded, swallowing the bite he had taken. “yes,” he replied, his voice carrying a hint of emotion he hadn’t expected. “it’s just like my mother used to make.”

your mind was a whirlwind of emotions, replaying the events of the day over and over. the embarrassment, the hurtful words, the confrontation with taehyung's mother—it all weighed heavily on your heart. you felt tears welling up, but you forced them back, determined to keep your composure until you were safely inside the sanctuary of your home.

as you approached your house, you noticed an unfamiliar pair of shoes at the entrance. puzzled, you stepped inside, your heart skipping a beat when you saw yoongi standing in the small living room, his expression equally shocked to see you. he looked different here, out of place but somehow softer in the homely environment. he stepped forward, his eyes immediately catching the tears brimming in your eyes. “what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice tinged with genuine concern.

the question snapped something inside you. all the emotions you had been holding back came rushing to the surface. “please, stop toying with me,” you snapped, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and pain. “i don’t know what i did to make you hate me so much.”

his eyes widened in shock, the hurt in your voice piercing him deeply. before he could respond, you turned and slammed the door shut behind you, the sound echoing through the small house. your mother, who had been in the kitchen, rushed over, her face etched with concern. “what happened?” she asked, her voice soft and worried.

you couldn’t hold it in any longer. the tears you had fought so hard to keep at bay finally spilled over as you collapsed into her arms. “i’m sorry,” you sobbed, your voice breaking. “i’m so sorry for liking taehyung.”

your mother’s face softened with understanding. she held you close, her hand gently stroking your hair. “no, sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice filled with love and regret. “i’m sorry i couldn’t give you a better life.” the two of you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, your sobs gradually subsiding into quiet sniffles. the weight of your mother’s words hung in the air, a painful acknowledgment of the struggles you had both faced. she pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes with a tenderness that made your heart ache.

“you have nothing to be sorry for,” she said firmly. “loving someone isn’t a crime, and you deserve to be happy, no matter what.” you nodded, wiping away the tears with the back of your hand. the warmth of your mother’s embrace and her unwavering support gave you a sense of solace, a momentary reprieve from the turmoil of the day.

the next day at school, the weight of everything that had happened pressed down on you, making it difficult to focus on anything else. as you walked down the hall, the lively chatter of students felt distant, like a muffled background noise. jieun walked beside you, her usual cheerful demeanor tempered by the worry etched on her face.

“hey, are you okay?” she asked, her voice gentle but filled with concern. “you haven't said a word since we got here.” you barely registered her words, your mind lost in a haze of confusion and heartache. she tried again, her hand lightly touching your arm. “come on, talk to me. what happened?”

you remained silent, your eyes fixed on the floor as you continued walking. jieun's worry deepened, and she was about to press further when jimin came running up to the two of you, his expression a mix of confusion and urgency. “fired? why’d you get fired?” he asked, his voice louder than necessary, drawing the attention of a few nearby students.

you stopped in your tracks, finally lifting your gaze to meet his. “how do you know?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “because they offered me your position the minute you got fired,” he said, his tone incredulous. “now tell us, what happened?”

you took a deep breath, the pain of the previous night bubbling up again. “i got fired simply because i liked him,” you said, your voice trembling as you forced the words out. jieun gasped, her eyes wide with shock. “i can't believe it,” she murmured, shaking her head. “that's so unfair.”

jimin's expression softened, a mixture of sympathy and frustration. "this is messed up," he said, his voice low but firm. "you don’t deserve this." as the three of you stood there, you noticed taehyung walking into the school. the sight of him was like a punch to the gut, and without a word, you turned and walked away, your heart too heavy to face him.

jieun watched you go, her eyes filled with disbelief and sadness. “i just can’t believe it,” she repeated, more to herself than to anyone else. jimin turned his gaze towards taehyung, his jaw set in determination. “you need to make this right,” he said, his voice carrying a note of command.

taehyung's eyes followed your retreating form, a deep regret etched in his features. he nodded, more to himself than to jimin, and started to follow after you, his steps quickening as he realized the gravity of the situation. you reached the courtyard, your favorite spot for some semblance of peace, and sat down on one of the benches, burying your face in your hands. the events of the past day played over and over in your mind, each memory a sharp sting to your heart. you didn’t notice him approaching until he was standing right in front of you, his shadow casting a long, somber line over your form.

you could feel the weight of the world pressing down on you. the leaves rustled softly in the breeze, their whispering a cruel reminder of how insignificant your problems seemed in the grand scheme of things. your heart felt heavy, each beat a painful reminder of the day’s events. your eyes, swollen from crying, were fixed on the ground, as if seeking solace in the worn path beneath you.

the sound of footsteps approached, but you barely noticed, lost in your own grief. it wasn’t until taehyung's shadow fell across your bench that you looked up, your tear-streaked face meeting his intense gaze.

“can we talk?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, yet laden with urgency. you shook your head, your frustration evident. “there’s nothing to talk about,” you said, your voice cracking with the strain of your emotions. you stood up, ready to walk away from him, from the pain, from everything.

but before you could take a step, his hand reached out, his fingers wrapping around your wrist with a firm yet gentle grip. you turned back to face him, a mix of surprise and defiance in your eyes. “everyone is an obstacle,” he said, his voice resolute. “i know you’re different from me, but i want to learn. do what you’re good at, teach me. i don’t want to spend the rest of my life mourning you.”

his words cut through the haze of your despair, a sudden burst of clarity amidst the fog of your emotions. the sincerity in his voice was palpable, each word a desperate plea for understanding and connection. you stared at him, your heart racing as you processed his confession. his eyes, usually so confident and sure, were now filled with a vulnerability you had never seen before. it was as if he was laying his soul bare before you, revealing a depth of feeling that had been hidden beneath his strong exterior.

“taehyung,” you began, your voice trembling as you tried to find the right words. “you don’t understand. this isn’t just about us. it’s about my life, my job, everything i’ve worked for.”

he shook his head, his grip on your wrist tightening slightly as if to anchor you both in this moment. “i do understand,” he said, his voice fierce with conviction. “i know i’ve made mistakes, and i know i’ve hurt you. but i don’t want to lose you. not like this.” the raw emotion in his eyes mirrored your own pain, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away. the bustling sounds of the school, the murmurs of students passing by—all of it fell into silence as you focused solely on him.

“you’re asking me to forgive you,” you said softly, the weight of his words sinking in. “but forgiveness isn’t something that can be given so easily.” taehyung’s expression softened, his gaze filled with regret and hope. “i’m not asking for forgiveness,” he said, his voice barely audible. “i’m asking for a chance. a chance to show you that i can change, that i can be different. i need you to teach me, to help me understand.”

his plea resonated deep within you, stirring a whirlwind of emotions. the anger and hurt that had consumed you were slowly giving way to a flicker of hope, a glimmer of the possibility that maybe, just maybe, things could be different. “you really want this?” you asked, your voice filled with a mixture of disbelief and hope.

he nodded, his eyes locked onto yours with a fierce intensity. “yes,” he said firmly. “i want to learn. i want to be someone who deserves you.” you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you considered his words. the path ahead was uncertain, filled with challenges and obstacles. but as you looked into taehyung’s earnest eyes, you saw a glimmer of the person he was trying to become—a person you could perhaps have a future with, despite everything.

with a weary sigh, you nodded slowly. “alright,” you said, your voice soft but resolute. “but it’s not gonna be easy. it'll take time, and a lot of effort. are you ready for that?”

his face lit up with a mixture of relief and determination. “i’m ready,” he said, his voice steady. “i’ll do whatever it takes.” as you stood there, your heart still aching but with a newfound resolve, you knew that the road ahead would be difficult. as the weight of his words settled between you, a profound silence enveloped the both of you. it was a silence filled with the promise of change and the uncertainty of what lay ahead. your heart still ached from the day’s events, but there was a new flicker of hope in your chest, ignited by his earnest plea.

without a word, taehyung stepped closer, his hands gently cupping your face. his touch was warm and reassuring, a stark contrast to the coldness you had felt earlier. slowly, as if savoring the moment, he pulled you into his arms. the embrace was tender and full of emotion, his heart beating steadily against your own. you rested your head against his chest, feeling the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing. the comforting pressure of his arms around you was a balm to your weary soul. the world outside seemed to blur into insignificance as you held each other, finding solace in the shared warmth.

taehyung’s grip tightened slightly, his breath warm against your ear as he murmured, “thank you for giving me a chance. i promise i won’t let you down.” his words were a soft, heartfelt promise that echoed in the quiet space between you. you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his with a mix of vulnerability and hope. the depth of his feelings was reflected in his gaze, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a sense of peace.

as if guided by an invisible force, he leaned in, his lips finding yours in a gentle, yet passionate kiss. the kiss was tender at first, a sweet exploration of the feelings you both had kept hidden. as the kiss deepened, it became a fierce declaration of the emotions that had been building between you. when you finally pulled away, breathless and with a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, his eyes shone with a mix of relief and affection. he brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch light and tender.

from the edge of the path, where the shadows of the trees mingled with the late morning light, yoongi and jungkook watched the scene unfold. yoongi’s eyes were fixed on you, a look of sadness etched deeply into his features. his gaze held a mix of defeat and resignation as he observed the moment.

jungkook, standing beside him, broke the silence with a quiet observation. “damn, you must be bummed,” he said, his tone almost casual. yoongi shook his head, his expression softening with a resigned acceptance. “he beat me to it,” he replied quietly, his eyes never leaving you. “but it’s okay. she’s happy.”

despite the resignation in his voice, the sadness never fully left his eyes. as he watched you, his own heart seemed to bear the weight of what could have been.

✧.*

a/n: this was so corny bye i'd like to thank the heirs

68 notes · View notes

smolwritingchick · 1 year ago

Text

The Bangtan Gal Masterlist

Author's Note: Hey! I wrote this story back in 2016 on some fanfic websites and am bringing it back as I edit the chapters. I wanted to put my perspective and imagination on what if BTS had a black girl in their group from America. This'll be a long story starting from their debut so enjoy the ride!

I have so many chapters already written. I had stopped in the story around late 2016 before the MAMA Awards. As I wrote this story over the years I wanted this character to be relatable and grow as a performer as well as go through hardships. It'll be a slow start but it will get better as the chapters go on, I hope you give it a chance.

This will mainly start with friendship. Not just the character and the love interest. I didn't want to rush things and I tried my best to add a lot of bonding and cute moments. This is a SLOW BURN with my OC and Jungkook. The two will not become a couple until 2016.

I'm also on Wattpad and Archive of Our Own

----

Profile Of Jennie

Chapter 1- The Foreign Trainee

Chapter 2- The Debut

Chapter 3- Rookie King Episode 1

Chapter 4- Rookie King Episode 2

Chapter 5- Rookie King Episode 3

Chapter 6- Rookie King Episode 4

Chapter 7- Rookie King Episode 5

Chapter 8- Rookie King Episode 6

Chapter 9- Rookie King Episode 7

Chapter 10- Rookie King Episode 8

Chapter 11- We're Proud of You

Chapter 12- They're My Family

Chapter 13- Boy In Luv

Chapter 14- Look Forward To White Day

Chapter 15- Going to SOPA

Chapter 16- Spending White Day With BTS

Chapter 17- Just One Day

Chapter 18- American Hustle Life Episode 1

Chapter 19- American Hustle Life Episode 2

Chapter 20- American Hustle Life Episode 3 (Yoongi Fluff & Jungkook fluff!)

Chapter 21- American Hustle Life Episode 4 (Yoongi Fluff!)

Chapter 22- American Hustle Life Episode 5

Chapter 23- American Hustle Life Episode 6

Chapter 24- American Hustle Life Episode 7

Chapter 25- I Found It In Big Hit

Chapter 26- BTS China Job

Chapter 27- KCON 2014

Chapter 28- American Hustle Life Episode 8

Chapter 29- Personal Trainer? (Jungkook fluff at the end!)

Chapter 30- War of Hormone (Major Jungkook fluff! One of my favs)

Chapter 31- You Are Special (Jungkook fluff!)

Chapter 32- You're Easy To Mess With

Chapter 33- Mama Awards 2014 (Jungkook fluff and jealous Jungkook!)

Chapter 34- Let's Name It Iron Man (Namjoon fluff and Jungkook fluff)

Chapter 35- BTS Now

Chapter 36- My Ideal Type

Chapter 37- Running Man (Major Jungkook fluff! One of my favs!)

Chapter 38- I'm Lacking

Chapter 39- How Much You're Loved

Chapter 40- I Need U (Major Jungkook Fluff and Suga Fluff!)

Chapter 41- And What If I Don't? (Jungkook fluff!)

Chapter 42- BTS Now 2

Chapter 43- Our First Win

Chapter 44- He's Smitten (Major Jungkook Fluff & Bam Bam Fluff One of my favs!)

Chapter 45- BTS in Kota Kinabalu

Chapter 46- BTS Festa

Chapter 47- Two Different Pages (RM Fluff and Jungkook Fluff!)

Chapter 48- Don't Steal The Beef!

Chapter 49- Distressed (Jungkook Fluff!)

Chapter 50- Payback (Jungkook Fluff!)

Chapter 51- Dope

Chapter 52- One Person Won't Ruin This

Chapter 53- I Think I Love Her

Chapter 54- Rekindle (MAJOR Jungkook fluff and one of my FAVS!)

Chapter 55- BTS Run Episodes 1-3

Chapter 56- BTS GAYO Track 1 & 2

Chapter 57- Tension Escalator (Jungkook fluff!)

Chapter 58- Fan Sign (some angst but ends in fluff!)

Chapter 59- ISAC 2015 Chuseok Special (one of my favs!)

Chapter 60- Running Man: The Golden Duo (MAJOR Jungkook fluff + suggestive)

Chapter 61- Tense (Jungkook fluff!)

Chapter 62- Protection Squad (Jungkook fluff!)

Chapter 63- RUN (Jungkook fluff!)

Chapter 64- Sweet 18

Chapter 65- Karma (Fight! Flawless Victory!)

Chapter 66- BTS GAYO Tracks 3-9

Chapter 67- BTS RUN Episodes 4-9

Chapter 68- Under The Mistletoe (Jungkook fluff! Kiss!)

Chapter 69- GAYO Daechukje & GAYO Daejejun (Jungkook fluff!)

Chapter 70- Jungkook's Confession (Self Explanatory! MAJOR Jungkook fluff! Almost there! My fav!!)

Chapter 71- You Are In Your Feelings

Chapter 72- You Were Worth The Wait (Start of JenKook!)

Chapter 73- It's About Time

Chapter 74- King of Masked Singer

Chapter 75- Ejected

Chapter 76- White Day (Big Jungkook Fluff!)

Chapter 77- Fire

Chapter 78- Prom (Big Jungkook fluff and smol Jungkook Smut)

Chapter 79- Meeting Shawn Mendes

Chapter 80- Taking Things A Little Further (Jungkook fluff)

Chapter 81- BTS Festa 2016

Chapter 82- K-Con 2016

Chapter 83- I Need You On This

Chapter 84- BTS Bon Voyage Season 1 (Big Jungkook fluff)

Chapter 85- BTS In Dubai

Chapter 86- WINGS 8 (Jungkook fluff)

Chapter 87- Wild N Out (One of my favs!)

Chapter 88- This Is Not A Drill!

Chapter 89- Blood, Sweat, & Tears

Chapter 90- Idol Parents? (Big JK Fluff)

Chapter 91- Tub Big Enough For Two (Big JK Fluff! One of my favs!)

Chapter 92- Thank You (Big Jungkook Fluff! One of my favs!)

Chapter 93- Our First Time (Big Jungkook Fluff + Smut)

The Bangtan Gal Masterlist PART 2

254 notes · View notes

holmsister · 6 months ago

Text

Is Kabru a Twink? A possible answer from queer history

Abstract: ever since his introduction, discussion amongst Kabru scholars has been vivacious, sometimes to the point of some vitriol, on one particular specific point: does Kabru of Utaya fulfill the basic traits of a twink? There are points to be made on both sides of the issues. The solution proposed in this paper aims to be the compromise that might allow the scientific community to move on from this terminological impasse.

First of all, since this is a terminological discussion, let's start with a few definitions. What is a twink?

From Wikipedia, page "Twink (lgbt+ slang)" [retrieved 2024-06-12]:

Twink is gay slang for a man who is usually (but not always) in his late teens to twenties whose traits may include a slim to average physique, a youthful appearance, little or no body hair, and flamboyancy.[5][6][7] Twink is used both as a neutral descriptor, which can be compared with bear,[8] and as a pejorative.[5][9]

From Fandom LGBTQIA wiki, page "Twink" [retrieved 2024-06-12]:

Twink is a subcultural term referring to gay or bi men who defy traditional masculine roles, embracing traits that are generally seen as feminine.[1]

Twinks are typically associated with a few key tropes: general physical attractiveness, a slim build, and a youthful appearance that lacks facial hair and often body hair as well.[1] In his book Never Enough (2007), Joe McGinniss describes a court case in which twink was defined as "a gay slang term used to denote an attractive, boyish-looking gay man between the ages of 18 and 23, slender ectomorph and with little or no body hair, often blond, often but not necessarily Caucasian."

Now sadly we don't have the time to delve into the ways the term "twink" has sometimes be used to enforce ageism, racism and fatphobia in the LGBT+ community, since we are talking about, you know, a fictional character in a fantasy. We will refrain from judgement and just base ourself on these barebones definitions without further fleshing them out.

On the surface, Kabru fulfills many of the requirements for a twink. His build is slender (tho more on that later), he is in the age range (22, altho its worth noting age of majority in the dunmeshi world is 16).

Also, he has the baby face. Round cheeks, long lashes, big eyes... Like there's no way around it thats the kind of face some seme asshole would grab by the chin as they call him "pretty boy" in a bl manga. That's a face that gets men who have always considered themselves hetero to question a thing or two. That's a face that gets your landlord to make your laundry for free.

Kabru Schrödinger's twink paradox comes from the fact that as someone who practices swordfighting and wears an armour (a lighter one but still) and marches for days in the dungeon, he MUST be muscular. There is no way around this. And this goes against one of the basic tenets of twinkhood, which is Twinks MUST Be Lithe And Delicate.

To further this point, I will quote from this article from OUT magazine titled "Dear Internet: THIS is what the word 'twink' really means", dated 01 March 2024 [retrieved 2024-06-12]:

"But the things that tie all these definitions together include being gay, being thin, young-looking, little to no body hair and no facial hair, and attractive. So NO, 27-year-old with a ’70s mustache and buff arms full of the tattoos he’s gotten over his adult life is, you guessed it, NOT a twink..."

As you can see, emphasis is put on the lack of muscles. While Kabru has no facial hair, we can however substitute the tattoos for the many scars he has received in battle - his body looks much more like the body of a man who is weary with experience. Again, keeping in mind that the age of majority in dunmeshi for tallmen is 16 and Kabru is 22, we could argue that proportionally, at least culturally, Kabru leans towards being almost too old for a twink, too, and his scars can be symbolic of that in much the same way tattoos are.

Also, in both the definitions above a tendency towards feminine-coded behaviour is noted. In Kabru's case, while see him occasionally engaging in behaviour that might read as slightly feminine, we see him also assume very masculine roles both in his party and during battle. Its also worth noting that Kabru was raised by elves, a culture whose aesthetic standards lean heavily towards what reads as feminine to tallmen, and that Kabru himself is characterised as someone who heavily adapts his behaviour based on other's expectation - we can therefore argue that it is possible that what "effeminate" behaviour he engages in is actually a result of his upbringing, as well as a way to endear/ingratiate himself to those that he judges would respond better to such behaviour, rather than a matter of self-expression.

Now, i already hear the objections, so i will further elaborate on the muscle point. Having been killed and resuscitated so many times, Kabru has lost the soft layer of fat that makes Laios body so evidently strong, and it has probably even started to cut into his muscles. Also, differently from Laios' stout build, we see young teen Kabru in a few illustrations with Milsiril and he IS naturally lanky - even at his top weight its probably going to look more like an athletics/gymnastics body type than the wrestler/weightlifter type.

However, the muscles ARE there, and losing the layer of fat would make them even MORE visible. He is more likely to have defined cut abs than Laios, paradoxically. And again, if you look at the classic twink porn, the boys rarely have sixpacks or even visible arm muscles. They're bony.

Thankfully this is not the first time the lgbt+ community has been faced with this dilemma. Therefore, falling back on the wisdom of our elders, i propose: Kabru is a twunk.

Urban Dictionary, voice "twunk" [retrieved 2024-06-12]

Twunk

A term used amongst the LGBTQ community to describe males (typically gay) with the face of a twink (boyish-looking, pretty) but the body of a hunk (muscular, jocky).

Without the ambition of being definitive, my humble offering will hopefully offer Kabru scholars a chance to possibly reach a terminological consensus, therefore allowing us to move on from this topic without misunderstandings.

#kabru #meowing to myself #goodnight people #in case this isnt clear this is EXTREMELY tongue in cheek

81 notes · View notes

prolix-yuy · 2 years ago

Text

Simulated

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader Actress

Summary: You're a professional, which is why a sex scene with Dieter Bravo will be no problem at all. Now you just have to convince yourself to believe it.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, descriptions of male and female bodies, simulated sex, grinding, fantasizing about sex, anxiety, lil bit of size kink, probably incorrect method for filming sex scenes but I'm using what I know and making up the rest. Don't do this for real, this is fantasy and Dieter is a filthy boy.

Notes: This leapt out of my brain and was enabled by the Discord besties. Dieter brainrot is setting back in but I doubt anyone's complaining. This may be the sexiest thing I've ever written without actual sex happening, but you all can be the judge of that.

Cross-posted on AO3

Midnight Alley Masterlist

Trembling on the verge of passing out is not how you wanted your first time in Dieter Bravo’s arms to be, but no amount of reprimands to your rebelling body have worked.

It’s not him, far from it. Dieter had been nothing but gentlemanly since you came in for scene blocking. The director offered to have stand-ins while they adjusted lighting and staged the shots, but you boldly offered to come in anyways. It wasn’t your first shoot, but it was your first sex scene, and you wanted to impress the director with your no-nonsense attitude about it.

All that confidence flew out the window when you came face to face with your scene partner, Dieter Bravo. Well aware of his aloof playboy nature, you didn’t expect his handshake to be so warm, the quirk of his smile to make your heart flutter, or for him to smell so strongly of eucalyptus. Apparently his agent mentioned you would be there for staging, and he decided to come in to test your chemistry. No issues there, your curious eyes roaming over his wrinkled cargo pants and threadbare sweater. He could be wearing nothing and you’d still melt into a puddle. Which, shockingly, wouldn’t be that far in the future.

Calm down, girl. Be professional.

To be fair, Dieter is fucking gorgeous, even under the bloodshot eyes and air of annoyance. His curls are even softer looking in person, heavy shoulders stretching his t-shirts and bulky forearms complimenting his thick thighs. Even the little pooch of a tummy makes you salivate. While your friends drool over Tom Hiddleston or Harry Styles, your heart beats fast for men who can crush you under their bulk. “Weighted blanket boys,” you like to call them, and Dieter wholly falls into that category.

Which is why when you got the casting call for a bit part in the crime drama Midnight Alley, which Dieter had been co-starring in for three seasons, you leapt at the opportunity. Even if you didn’t get to share a scene, at least you could catch a glimpse, maybe say hello. That was surely worth the long hours. His proclivities for casual sex definitely didn’t fit into that plan. No sir. Definitely not.

It all became real when you got the pages. Your character was a one night stand, relegated to three scenes - the bar where you make eyes across a crowd, the tasteful sex scene (though only barely - tv ratings have really changed in the last twenty years), and the morning after when he leaves to go to a crime scene. The “gaze across the smoky dance floor” was easy enough; anyone with half a brain and a pulse would blush at Dieter’s intense stare, raised eyebrow, and sly grin, a signature of his questionable character. It raises goosebumps down your arms, his parted lips and the slip of his pink tongue resting just inside, the crinkle of his eyes when he knows he’s got you. If a man ever gave you that look you’d be in his bed in moments.

Scratch that. Not just any man. Dieter’s the only one who could pull that off.

The blocking should have evened out your nerves, and in the moment you believed it did. Dieter was an absolute gentleman, even warmer than you hoped, as you waited to be called on set.

“Ever done a scene like this before?”

“First time. Can you tell?”

He thumbed through his thicker script.

“Wasn’t going to make you more nervous by pointing it out. But yes.”

You blew out a puff of air, making Dieter smirk even more as you crinkled your sheets.

“How do we…?”

“You know the direction?”

“Yeah, it seems…straightforward.”

“Well, today we’re just going to do the major movements - positions, angles, you know - and while they mark focus and shine a light directly up my asshole, we can talk.”

A burst of giggles pulled a wider smile onto his face, waiting for you to calm yourself.

“What do we talk about?”

“What’s comfortable for you. What would pull you out of the scene. What you’re open to. You’re our guest after all.”

So your afternoon was spent pantomiming the sex acts written for you and…talking. Which wasn’t supposed to be sexy, or like two hours of incredibly hot foreplay, but your body apparently didn’t get the memo.

“Anything you really don’t want me to touch? Besides the obvious,” Dieter asked, coming down from his hands to his elbows by your face. The tip of his nose brushed briefly against yours. A hairlight shifted in your periphery.

“My ribs are pretty ticklish,” you admitted, nodding to the assistant director Ramona when she moved on to the next setup. Scooping his hands behind your back, Dieter pulled you on top, showing how to sit a little further up on his stomach to fake the grinding. Unfortunately, the plush flesh against your core didn’t help with the ache.

“Here’s okay?” he asked, wrapping his hands just under your breasts, the tips of his thumbs barely grazing the swell. You nodded, body getting jolted again when the director Adiel asked for Dieter to scoot up the bed a few inches.

“My, uh…” you said, then stopped as you lost confidence. Dieter took his hands off your chest and laced them on his own. He looked up at you expectantly. “My…nipples are really sensitive, so I know I’ll have pasties on and everything, but, it’s like, uncomfortable if they get touched certain ways. So I just wanted to…warn you of that. It shouldn’t be a problem, just, ah, you know, just in case.” Your throat closed up, embarrassment at even saying anything crushing your tongue against the roof of your mouth.

“Thanks for telling me, I appreciate it.” Dieter patted your thigh and his smile was a little more tender than before.

God, he really looked good underneath you.

“My skin’s sensitive too, scratches show up really clearly on it and it pisses off the cinematographer. So that’s the only thing we’ll have to watch out for there.” The shuffle of changing positions interrupts your conversation until you’re on your stomach with him pressed against your back.

“Sorry if I pop one too, it’s kind of par for the course with these. I’m good at keeping it under control for the most part.” You giggle into the pillow as he hovers over you.

“My biggest advice?” Dieter murmurs, mouth close to your ear. You hum into the pillow. “Let yourself have fun. It’s not gonna feel natural, but that doesn’t mean it’s gotta feel cold. You won’t offend me if you go off script. I might too, if it feels right. If we’re having fun, the audience will too.”

The weight of his body bearing down on you drives any more anxieties out of your blissed-out brain.

The day of the sex scene comes quicker than you’d like, and the tender crush you’d been nursing for Dieter has become a panicked bird inside your ribcage. You’d spent the hours before preparing, mentally and physically with an indulgent morning routine, but nothing can stop your nerves when Dieter catches sight of you and gives a little wave. He’s in jeans and a black button-up, hair being artfully styled but sunglasses still on. One knee bounces in the chair but otherwise he looks cool as a cucumber.

The sliver of golden chest you peep through the neck of his shirt sends you scurrying to your dressing room.

Everything leading up to the moment you step on set is distraction. Chatting with makeup, hair, props, with the fucking boom operator who looks just as confused as you are that you’re asking about good places to eat in the area. You talk with the intimacy coordinator, who gives you final notes on the scene. (“If Dieter makes you uncomfortable at all you give me The Eyes and I’ll correct him. No questions asked. I’ve worked with him for years, and I will cuss him out to his face.”) Eventually there’s no one left, and you’re standing alone clutching a water bottle to your chest when Dieter sidles up.

“Nervous?”

You almost jump out of your bathrobe. Which would suck because all you had on was a dark lace lingerie set, pair of pasties and the strange modesty patch protecting your lady bits. Sometimes seeing the behind-the-scenes really did erase the movie magic.

“Yeah, sorry. It’s a little more real now than the rehearsal,” you sigh, and Dieter’s bray of a laugh actually calms you. He puts a hand on your back and rubs firm, soothing circles that bring your heart back into an acceptable rhythm.

“You’ll do fine. And I’ve done this…eh, probably more times than it’s polite to mention. You’re in good hands.” He pulls off his sunglasses, treating you to rich brown eyes you could lose yourself in if you weren’t a professional, goddammit.

“Close the set, please!” Ramona calls out, and the nonessential crew files out until it’s just you and Dieter and about eight other people who will be watching you writhe and moan. Taking in a deep breath and letting it out loudly, you shake your limbs and metaphorically gird your loins (since they already are pretty girded).

“Can I have actors on set please?” You stride up to the bed with as much confidence as you can muster, Dieter strolling up behind you. Now that he’s close he smells like fresh cotton and spice, a sharp shift from the earthier scents you’d been experiencing. Even a hint of mint from his breath, suddenly thankful you’d brushed and mouthwashed twice.

“Positions for Scene 17.”

Yes, the first shot. Dieter would be hovering over you, kissing you as he pulls his shirt off. You would be in your bra and panties, slivers of your body visible in the frame but Dieter’s broad chest and unbuttoned waistband on display. Sliding the bathrobe off and placing it off camera, you arrange your limbs on the bed, hands shaking just a little now. Dieter stands at the foot, and if you weren’t about to simulate sex you’d swear he was devouring you with his heavy gaze.

Just getting into character. Breathe.

“Roll sound.”

“Speed.”

“Scene 17a, take one. Roll camera.”

“Rolling.”

“...Action.”

As the set drops to silence, you watch Dieter change from the slightly aloof but sympathetic actor to a brooding morally gray detective needing to bury his failures in a soft body. Despite your coaching, your eyes widen at the set of his jaw, how dark his eyes become when he wrenches off the offending button-up. He sinks to his knees between your thighs and hovers over you, hands pushed into the mattress on either side of your head.

“Be good for me, yeah?” he husks, deeper and full of gravel. You nod, and he descends to crush your lips together. He urges your mouth open and works your lips together, but his tongue stays obediently behind his teeth.

Fuck, for a second you forgot you were acting.

His hips dip, denim scraping along the inside of your thighs. He parts from your mouth with a gasp, forehead coming down to press against yours. He takes a deep breath, then…

“Cut! Reset.”

You blink slowly, Dieter already lifting back up to stand at the foot of the bed, rebuttoning his shirt.

“Any notes?” he asks, voice so calm and clear you snap back to the reality of the situation.

“When you’re kissing, pull her thighs up around you,” Adam says, Dieter’s head swiveling back.

“That all right by you?” he asks, smoothing the shirt on his skin.

“Yeah, yeah, absolutely,” you answer, trying not to croak out the words. It was just the first take, it’s fine that you’re a little off-kilter. It would be easier by the second one.

It was not. Not by the third either, still swimming in the heady arousal that wafts from Dieter’s commanding presence. The director complimented how you clutched at his shoulders when he squeezed your thighs, which you tried to pass off as purposeful rather than hanging on for dear life. You were doomed, you’d bitten off more than you could chew and you were going to mess up this role and had no idea how to stop it.

Three more scenes to go.

You take a lap as they reposition the cameras, flip-flops slapping against the concrete floors of the soundstage as you debate if you have enough time to rub one out before going back, just to take the edge off.

“Actors back on set!”

Dammit.

Scene 18 has you riding Dieter, his hands guiding you until he bares his teeth (your signal to move with him) and rolls you on your back to pound you into the mattress. The lingerie is gone now, the cool air of the soundstage caressing over curves of your body that most people rarely see. Dieter averts his eyes when you disrobe, and carefully arranges himself below you. You’re feeling more centered, straddling Dieter with a little less fire burning between your legs, but your troubles take a sharp turn.

“Lean forward a little more, you’re half out of the shot.”

“A little faster.”

“Put your hand on his stomach about ten seconds in.”

“Never mind, back to how we had it before.”

“No, we said no hand, remember?”

“Do you need a break?”

Your body shakes after take 6, half from the exhaustion of lifting up on your knees over and over, your toes starting to go numb, and half with anxiety over forgetting another cue, or missing another note. The smile you keep shooting the director is getting strained, and mortifying tears start to prick your eyes. Dieter is watching your face closely, and with a pointed look at Ramona she calls a brief break.

“Hey,” he murmurs, guiding you off his lap to sit on the edge of the bed. You cross your arms over your chest, and he reaches over to give you your robe. Draping his own over his lap, he strokes that soothing pattern of circles over your back as you shake your head.

“Sorry, it felt so easy in rehearsal, I’m having like, a weird lockup right now,” you stammer out.

“It’s okay,” he says, “I know what it is.” You look up at him with more desperation in your eyes than you mean. He nods sympathetically.

“It’s the cock sock, isn’t it?”

He delivers the line completely deadpan. The shock of the phrase, plus the serious set of his brow, makes hysterical laughter burst from your lips. You bury your face in your hands and shake as Dieter’s deep chuckles tickle into your ear.

“That’s better, just need to get a little of that tension out,” he soothes, meeting your eyes with a charming smile. If only this could be a real moment, not something looked on by several men and women drinking coffees. Dieter seems like the kind of partner who would always make you comfortable, and seen, and absolutely satisfied.

That last thought tingles the baby hairs on the back of your neck as you move back into position. Straddling Dieter once again, the ridiculous genital covering out of sight, he grips your shoulders.

“Okay, let’s get back into character here, yeah? Remember your motivation?”

You nod. Not that the scene really needed a deep backstory, but you’d decided you were blowing off steam after a rough few days at work and an ex texting you to get back together. Dieter was mysterious, exciting, so different from your past boyfriends, and when he met your eyes across the room all you wanted was for him to wash the bad taste of their memories out.

“Got it? Good. Here’s mine,” he says, leaning up while the last few preparations finish around you. Lips to your ear, he whispers only for you.

“Another dead end, another long day, and I want something to distract me. I’ve got my eye on my usual type, but then I see you. You stand out in the crowd, bold, confident. You hold my stare, challenge me. I thought I wanted something easy, something mindless, but looking at you, I changed my mind. I wanted something with substance, someone to give as good as she gets, and I know you’ll give me even better. My cock got hard just looking at you, you’re fucking perfect. And then when you let me buy you a drink and you criticized my whiskey choice, I wanted to bend you over the bar right there. So I’m taking you home to bury my troubles, but you can surprise me as many more times as you like. I like to be surprised. I want you to take me as much as I’m taking you.”

Dieter lies back with a hell of a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“Action!”

Your body moves with an ease that had been eluding you, liquid rolls as you take your time riding him. His hands come up to your hips, urging you faster, and instead you grind down on him, pressing your hands into his chest and pinning him into the bed. You’re not supposed to be fighting him, but it feels so right to arch and rock harder into him. His bare legs flex against your ass, meeting your hips with his thrusts. You can imagine how good he’d feel if you weren’t faking this, how his powerful thrusts would hit your g-spot. His hand cups the back of your neck, teeth bared in warning as he rolls you onto your back.

“You’re so sexy,” he growls in your ear, hooking your legs around his waist and smacking his hips into yours. The impact is softer than it looks, aided by your moans and writhing beneath him. He goes for a handful more thrusts before “Cut!” is shouted again.

“There we go! I like the improv, can we do just one more for coverage?” Ramona says, giving you an approving smile when you immediately get into position.

“I could go all night,” Dieter shoots back, earning an eye roll from half the crew and a dry mouth from you when he flicks his gaze back and winks.

The second take flows even better, your bodies finally speaking to each other. Dieter palms your ass, you slow your hips. He urges you to go faster, you grind down on him. He grits his teeth as you push his chest, nails just about to bite into the supple flesh. His eyes capture yours over and over, and the hunger inside them is some damn good acting.

The cues, the flip, and you’re on your back again, but this time Dieter drops his head to cover your breast with his hot mouth. You arch, a strangled gasp as you wait for his tongue, his teeth, but he works his jaw against the flesh and nothing more.

Fuck, you want something more.

When he pops his mouth off he resumes the script, thrusting frantically into you but with more force this time, even an edge of desperation. You meet his energy, throwing your head back and letting him yank you against him over and over. The slap, the friction, this gorgeous man before you all makes slick weep from your untouched cunt, clit aching for the act you’re simulating.

“Cut! Excellent, really good work guys, you’re hitting your groove here. Let’s move on to 19.”

Dieter stays above you for a few seconds more, your chests heaving. The lust bleeds away to a soft smile as he pats your side.

“Good work, you take direction really well.”

You bite your tongue to stop yourself from saying, “Just from you.”

You take one more walk around the soundstage to try and calm your rebellious body, but the moment you see Dieter again, kneeling in the bed with the blankets bunched in front of his hips, it’s all dashed away. Even his respectful touches as he guides you to your stomach, checking in if you’re comfortable, all burn across your skin. You just need to get through this scene.

“Action!”

This is indeed the finale. Dieter would finish above you, pounding into you from behind. You were supposed to lie there and take it, let him cuss and choke into the back of your shoulder before his breathing slows and you cut to the next morning. You could do that. You totally could. Most men you’ve been with hump you into the bed like this and it does very little for you. This would be fine.

The moment Dieter starts rutting against your ass you know you’re done for. You’re too worked up, and the position lightly teases your nipples. A wrinkle of blanket rubs against your mound just enough to relieve your clit, and while you know you should stop you can’t help but grind into the bed just enough to light up your nerves. Dieter hovers above you, thick forearms planted by your shoulders as he hisses and grunts his way to a fake climax. You press back against him, giving your own satisfied smile as he drops his forehead between your shoulders and rolls his hips again.

“Not bad, can we go one more time?”

Shit. You’d hoped that would be enough, arousal rising dangerously between your thighs. Rearranging the sheets to deny you pleasure, you catch Dieter slumping to one side and watching you. It’s intense, being in his stare, but also warming and protective. When you lie back on your stomach and give him a nod that you’re ready, he leans down and whispers in your ear.

“If you want it, you can have it. I won’t tell anyone. You take it when it comes.”

You barely get a moment of shock before the cameras are rolling and the scene begins again. Did Dieter just…insinuate that he’d cover for you if you came? The thought makes wetness gush between your thighs, now lacking the friction you were relishing in earlier. The need aching in your cunt makes you roll your hips back against Dieter, a strained “fuck” spitting through his teeth. He grabs your hips and guides you against his narrow ones, not quite hitting where you want but the snap and slap of him against you still works you up more than it should. You cry out, bury your face in the pillow, fist the blankets as he chases his release. The practiced groan signals the end, this time his cheek pressing against your back and a kiss dotting your spine.

Thank God. You were finally in the clear.

“I think we need one more, guys. I want a little more…intimacy this time. You both okay with that?”

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

“I don’t…” you started to protest until Dieter’s hand finds its way to the back of your neck.

“I think you can do it. I know you can. One more time?” he asks, but in his eyes is a promise that makes you nod, even against your better judgment.

This time I’ll make you cum.

Dieter changes tactics when the cameras roll. He starts off fast, yanking you back against him. Sitting up on his heels he arches you off the bed with his expansive hands. His thighs cage you in, squeezing tight. Something thick and soft slides against your ass, and you realize Dieter is hard behind you, cock still wrapped up but the weight of it against you obvious. You want him between your legs, fat head sliding over your clit, but you let him adjust you to exactly where he wants.

With Dieter’s guidance you rock and writhe against him, drips of praise reaching your ears. With a deeply groaned, “Fuck, baby,” he folds over you, stomach pressing into your back. His fingers lace with your own, hugging you to his chest as he pumps his hips in long strokes. His cock nudges your lower back, little gasps keening out. He noses your cheek and guides you to turn your face to the camera.

“This okay?” he mouths into your ear and you let out a, “Yes, please,” loud enough to mean anything for the camera. You slide a hand into his hair, gripping the thick curls to a stuttered sigh of pleasure. The pressure and motion finally gives you the stimulation you need, and it’s barely any time before your orgasm barrels to the forefront. You tighten your grip on Dieter’s large hand and school your face just enough to not look like you’re cumming through the hottest scene you will ever act in.

“That’s it, take it, take it baby, you’re doing so well, fucking god, look at you,” Dieter groans into your ear. He presses you deeper into the mattress, muting the uncontrollable bucking of your hips for the camera. Teeth scrape along your jaw in tender nips as he stutters to his fake finish, a guttural groan and relaxing of his body signaling the end of the scene. But Dieter lifts up on one elbow and pinches your chin between two fingers, turning your face to his. He looks at you like a mystery to be solved, like a gift, and then kisses you, slow and indulgent.

“Cut! Excellent, loved the ad libbing Dee, but you gotta stop saying fuck, we’ll have to cut that out,” the director says. Dieter laughs against your back, and the warmth of his skin makes you want to melt into the bed and never leave.

“You doing okay?” he asks, lifting up off you and tugging both your bathrobes over to give you some modesty. He fists his own over his swollen erection, a little pink high in his cheeks and sweat along his hairline.

“Yeah, perfect, absolutely,” you say lightly, legs wobbling when you try to stand up. His eyes drag over you, a prideful smile playing on his lips as you try to cover up your dazed affect. “One more scene?” you say brightly.

“Yeah,” he says, distracted. “One more scene.”

The final shot of your day is the following morning, soft yellow light traded for the cool blue of daylight streaming in. You’re facing away from the camera, Dieter waking and looking over at your naked shoulder. He sits up and strokes along the curve of your waist, making you sigh in your sleep. He watches you with a mix of regret and resolution, kisses your shoulder, and gets out of bed.

The scene is done in one take. You wish it took all day.

The end of the shoot is quiet, taking off makeup and getting back into your public clothes. You strain to hear someone coming to your dressing room, a certain wild-haired brown-eyed man giving you a sendoff. A kind word, a piece of advice, you’d take anything. But he doesn’t come, and you leave the soundstage with your check and thanks and promises of references.

The drive back to your apartment is quiet, music even feeling too loud for the moment. Weaving through LA traffic, the moments of your day slip through your mind like silk ribbons.

You suppose this is what meeting your heroes is like. A moment in the sunlight of their presence, then back to the real world of auditions and day jobs and hoping your parents never see this particular part of your portfolio. The dishes need washing, calls need to be made, and you have to go on with your life. It was an excellent experience, albeit a slightly inappropriate one. But if that’s the worst you got up to with Dieter then it was fairly tame.

The fleeting thought of what you’d actually hoped you’d get up to with Dieter comes and leaves without incident.

By the time you get home you’re planning what casting call you’d go to tomorrow, making your grocery list, and considering if you can get away without doing laundry tonight. Which is why you walk past the bouquet of flowers in the atrium without checking who it’s for. Waiting for the elevator, however, curiosity gets the better of you and you peek at the card.

Your name. It’s your name on the perfectly imperfect bouquet of garden roses and eucalyptus. You’re opening the card as your cell phone vibrates in your pocket. Fishing it out, you greet the Midnight Alley casting agent on the other end.

“Are you open to a semi-recurring role?”

“W-what?”

“Yeah, the director and AD were really impressed with your chemistry with Bravo. They’ve been trying to write him a love interest in the show, but he’s turned down all the potential actresses and guest stars. No chemistry, bad chemistry, whatever, but the point is he asked for them to consider you.”

Your hands shake, the clean white card pinched between your fingers.

I think we can do better together than that. Dinner?

-DB

“What do you think?”

Your heart flutters as you set it free.

“When can I start?”

END

#dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x fem!reader #dieter bravo x reader #the bubble fanfiction #midnight alley #prolix fics

852 notes · View notes