#I’ll be here in another ten years
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Can I just say it’s really nice to cozy back into tumblr, still seeing familiar faces in my activity is crazy! And so neat!
Hello mutuals! I love you!
#tiktok is dying like vine did before it#and tumblr is here and strong as fucking ever#I’ll be here in another ten years#ill never change my url
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Just started thinking about Shadows, Blinding….
OUGGGHHHHHH MY WIFE MY BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL WIFE
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#i’ll wait ten years for the sequel if i have to#twenty even#this is the shit right here#the angst the toxic family relationships the worldbuilding THE OCS??!!#oh it doesn’t get better than this believe me#like this is peak hatake lore it’s on another level another dimension#just#the way Kakashi slowly unconsciously started to abandon his past and integrated into the village#OH and when he realized this#UGHH#MY GOD#AND DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THAT BITCH NANA#shadows blinding
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Hi Jade! (I’ve sent this before so ignore if you aren’t into it) just thinking about a bau!reader (maybe shy!reader??) who’s dating post-prison Spencer but didn’t know him before prison and she sees some footage of season one Spencer (maybe they need to refer to a recording of a previous case?) and she’s just dying at how cute he is 🥹
You’ve barely woken up with your face in a solid shoulder when Spencer’s turning around.
“Don’t,” he says when you whine, slipping a familiar hand over your hip. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Too early to make fun of me.”
“Do you think I’m making fun of you?”
His talking warms your nose where his head is angled down. Your skin smarts with goosebumps as he trails his hand lightly up your back, down again, the slowest, tumbling touch. You shiver, and Spencer, ever so slightly devious in love, says, “Oh, you’re cold?” with great pity as he pulls you closer.
You rub your face against his shoulder. “Sorry.”
“Why?”
“I smell.”
He hums. “Sort of. Not like sweat, though. You smell like sleep.” His lips touch your cheek.
He lets you ‘warm up’ in his arms for a few minutes, then however long you doze for, lost and too comfortable to bother even trying to wake up properly. Your phone pings a couple of times after it comes out of sleep mode, a sure sign you’ve overslept, but Spencer doesn’t make you move until your stomach growls.
“Come on,” he says, kissing your nose and slipping you back onto your side of the bed. “I’ll make breakfast.”
“It’s nearly twelve.”
“You just woke up, and it’s the first thing you’re gonna eat. You are breaking your fast. Breakfast.” He looks pretty even through achy, tired eyes, all the sleep crusted in your lashes no match for Spencer Reid. How you went so long without knowing him is a mystery.
You get up only because he told you to and because he looked quite lovely when he did it, not because you want to. The bed is warm, that pit of his arms calling your name, but Spencer’s already rolling out of bed with an eager hand scratching through his hair. Sweat has made them tight and a little darker in the back. You’ll both have to shower at some point, preferably after he’s made you breakfast in bed.
He can see your expectations on your face, and he laughs as he pulls a t-shirt on over his head. “Get up! I’m not bringing it up here, do you know how badly your sleep cycle is affected when you start doing the wrong things in bed?”
“What counts as the wrong thing?”
Spencer laughs again, softer now, and for a moment he traces your face with his eyes without speaking. “Fine,” he says, waving a hand at you as he makes for the bedroom door, “stay there. But only ‘cos you look so pretty!”
“Thank you!” you call back.
This time with Spencer isn’t enough. You need ten more years of this, thirty, fifty, you need to wake up in his arms and have him touch you and tickle your cheek with his breath. He’s too far to have him come back, so you resign to hugging him when he returns.
Your phone pings again, drawing your attention finally. The first notification is a reminder to buy toothpaste today at the grocery store. The second is a text from a friend, the third an email. It’s one from last night that piques your interest, another friend, full capital letters: HELP.
Her use of a laughing emoji defers any urgency. You click on the text thread and scroll up, puzzled by her previous messages, a link, and a caption: oh my god he was so dorky???
You open the video and feel your breath catch in surprise.
Is that Spencer?
You're not stupid, you’ve seen photos of him and his friends together dotted around the apartment from over the years, and every time you come across that photo of him and Diana at a spelling bee with his huge black-framed glasses you have to laugh, but it’s different seeing him to hearing him.
He’s so nervous. You can’t understand what it is he’s saying, something about mathematical components to profiling criminals. Jason Gideon stands in the background watching him closely.
“There’s actually a good joke that–”
“Spencer,” Gideon reprimands.
You watch in awe as Spencer stammers an apology, his cheeks a little pink. You’ve seen Spencer blush, but this feels different. He looks so young. His hair is straight as a pin.
“Spencer, did you used to straighten your hair?” you call, hoping he can hear you over the sound of a frying pan popping in the kitchen. “Or do you have a perm now, or what?”
“What!”
“I’m confused on the logistics of your hair!” You feel something weird in your chest as on screen Spencer tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ear. It’s a mixture of wanting to eat him and wanting to reach through the screen to stroke his cheek with your thumb.
Spencer treks back into the bedroom with his pink and white pinstripe apron over his shirt and sweatpants. He smells like cinnamon sugar already. “What are you talking about?”
“My friend found a video of you and Jason at one of those lectures you did.”
Spencer presses his lips together. For a moment, he doesn’t speak. “I didn’t do any lectures.”
“Uh, yes you did, liar, and you looked so cute.” You turn your phone to him. “So sweet.”
He marches to the bed. Before you can stop him, he’s taking the phone from your hand, giving you the world's silliest, tiniest shove when you try to get it back.
“Cruel,” you quip.
Spencer stares at the phone screen, then you, “Sorry,” he says, turning pink, “I don’t know why I did that, just– I just–” He frowns deeply. “Can you stop smiling like that?”
You climb onto your knees, a morning disaster, but when you wrap your arms around Spencer’s waist he looks at you like you’re perfect. His eyes soften, brows relaxing, his irises like dark dimes that slowly dilate as he looks you over. Your phone presses into your back, his arm wrapping around you.
“You were adorable,” you say sincerely.
“Not anymore?”
You rub your cheek against his apron. “No, you still are. Let me watch the video again.”
“Not a chance.”
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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bottle up old love (jjk) (m)
summary: Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.
pairing: Jungkook x Reader
rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)
genre: exes to lovers, the holy trinity of angst/smut/fluff
word count: 4.6k (this was supposed to be a drabble 💀)
prompt: JK + exes to lovers + "I'm sorry" + "I hate you" + "Don't fucking touch me" + "Leave" (for @btsborahaee <3)
warnings: language, a short harassment scene at the beginning (nothing too intense), explicit content including: unprotected sex (DO NOT), fingering, praise kink, biting, marking, spanking, cum eating (sort of?), big cawk soft dom jk, cowgirl (yeehaw), creampie, cockwarming, i think that's all but this also wasn't supposed to be too smutty so clearly idk what's going on lol
MASTERLIST
“Don’t fucking touch me!”
You spit the words at the man in front of you, pushing him back as he tries to make another grab at your arm.
“Why do you gotta be like that?” Seungcheol whines. “I thought we were having fun.”
“You and I have very different ideas of fun.” You take a step backwards towards your building. Somewhere down the sidewalk, footsteps clatter against the pavement.
“C’mon.” He matches your movement, reaches for you again. “Invite me up. You enjoyed the last time, didn’t you? I told you that was just a warm-up.”
The building’s brick wall is closer than you thought, and you bang your shoulder against it as you try to sidestep him. “Last time you didn’t follow me to a bar I didn’t even invite you to. How did you know where I was anyway?”
“Let me come up, and I’ll tell you,” he rumbles with a flicker of his eyebrows. He has you fully backed up against the wall now, and you press against the muscle of his chest to no avail.
“Stop!” you shout before he’s ripped away from you so suddenly that you’re left blinking in confusion, huddled against the brick.
There’s a thud–the sound of a fist hitting flesh–and a yelp before Seungcheol is reeling back with his hands clutching his nose. Blood seeps out from beneath his fingers, black even under the glow of the streetlamps.
“What the fuck?” he shrieks, and it’s only then that you take a proper look at your savior, looking every bit like he’s stepped straight out of the shadows with his dark hair, ebony clothes, and deep brown eyes.
And a lead weight drops into your stomach as you recognize him.
Jungkook sets himself between you and Seungcheol, looming over the latter as he continues to cover his face, whining. “I’m giving you ten seconds to get out of here.”
“Who the fuck are you?!”
“Ten,” Jungkook growls, taking a step in Seungcheol’s direction. “Nine.”
Seungcheol straightens–clearly a last-ditch attempt to look intimidating. Spitting blood onto the concrete, he peers at you over Jungkook’s shoulder. “This isn’t over, bitch.”
Then he spins and takes off running down the street.
Your hands grip your elbows. It may be a balmy summer night, but you’re shivering where you stand, unsure whether you’re more affected by Seungcheol’s behavior or the ghost who’s unexpectedly in front of you.
“Are you okay?” he quietly asks, gaze fixed on your face. You stare at your shoes and give him a brisk nod as a response before turning away, punching in your building code, and walking through the front door.
He follows closely, slipping in behind you and trailing a few feet. You let him for a little while, guiding him through the modest lobby and up the first flight of stairs. But when you’re halfway up the second stairwell–almost to your floor–you pause on the landing, spinning his way.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
His eyes are gentle, sincere. “Making sure you get in safely.”
“There’s no need for that,” you assert. “I’m already in my building. There’s a keypad. I’m good.”
“The keypad does almost nothing. I followed you in no problem.”
“So I should be worried about you then?”
He flushes, the tips of his ears going pink. “Please just let me see you inside.”
You want to argue back, want to shout at him and make a scene, but you know it’s no use. Know that he’s stubborn as a bull and will get what he wants one way or another.
It’s how he broke up with you after all.
You say nothing, only hustle up the last set of steps and down the dimly-lit hallway until you’re in front of your door, Jungkook tailing you the whole time with his hands in his pockets. You practically fumble your key in your haste to get it into the lock, letting out a satisfied sigh as the latch finally clicks open.
“There. I’m in,” you say as you step over the threshold, waving a dismissive hand at your unwanted companion. “Leave.”
But he hesitates just outside the doorway, teeth chewing at the corner of his lip. “What are you going to do if he comes back?”
“That’s my problem, isn’t it? I stopped being your concern when you dropped me out of nowhere a year ago.”
Your eyes sting at the memory, tears threatening to spill over. You don’t want him here. Don’t want to see him or have him anywhere in your vicinity. Not when it still hurts like this.
Though, truth be told, you don’t expect to ever be fully over him.
“We’re done, Jungkook,” you murmur. “You made sure of that.”
And you close the door in his face.
The distress subsides quickly once he’s out of sight–like he was never there to begin with–and you don’t linger, dropping your bag on the sofa and heading straight for the bathroom. This is how you’ve made it a year without him; it was weeks of crying before you realized that wallowing was doing you no good, only fueling your misery instead of providing any kind of catharsis. So you’ve done your best to simply push past it and cast away the anguish that bubbles up every time you think of him. Not allow it to linger like the shadows at the edges of the room.
You shed your clothes and turn the shower to a temperature that you’ll probably regret later. But for now, you savor the way the water sears your skin as you wash away the day with all of its unpleasant surprises. Taking your time, you scrub every inch of your body and carefully shampoo your hair (trying not to fall back into the fantasy that’s plagued you on occasion where it’s his hands and not yours spreading the bubbles over your form).
The self-care continues as you step out of the shower and leisurely work through your skin care routine, even taking the time to blow dry your hair. By the time you exit the bathroom, the fog on the mirror has dissipated, and you’ve once again successfully tamped down the memory of Jungkook and his hands and eyes and everything you ever felt for him.
Or so you think.
After popping into your bedroom to pull on some pajamas, you pad back into the living room for a glass of water, and your eyes are immediately drawn to the front door. Regret attempts to push its way into your consciousness against your better judgment. The man broke your heart, yes. But you do feel a little guilty slamming the door in his face after he just fought off a creep for you.
And speaking of Seungcheol, what if he does come back? You’re pretty sure he saw you punch in the building code the night you brought him home with you, and given his behavior, you wouldn’t be surprised if he filed it away in his head.
Anxiety winning out, you creep to the door and peer through the peephole. The hallway looks empty, drab beige walls taking up most of your field of view, but you jump as you spot a hulking shadow to the right. Your heartbeat races then slows, a closer look revealing hunched, unmoving shoulders wrapped in a familiar black t-shirt.
Jungkook swings his head to look at you as you open the door and glare down at him. His legs are pulled up, arms resting on his knees, and it might be endearing if not for the fact that he absolutely, positively should not be here.
“What are you doing?” you ask him for the second time tonight.
“He might come back.”
“And you’re going to what? Fight him?”
He shrugs. “If I have to.”
“Yeah?” You raise an eyebrow, challenging. “You’re going to sit out here all night?”
He shifts where he sits, wiggling his hips like he’s firmly planting his butt into his chosen spot. “Yes.”
You roll your eyes at him but don’t doubt that he would. Again, if there is anything you know this man to be, it’s stubborn. “You’re going to scare the neighbors.”
“Who, Mrs. Kwon?” A tiny smile plays on his lips as he glances in the direction of your elderly neighbor’s apartment. “I think she’d be delighted to see me.”
If you’re being honest, she probably would be. She’s always adored Jungkook and praised him as the “kind, handsome young man” who helped her put away groceries and fixed her leaky faucet one time. In the months following your breakup, she’d asked about him once or twice, patting your arm reassuringly when you awkwardly told her she wouldn’t be seeing him anymore.
“Don’t worry, dear,” she said. “He’ll come around.”
Well she’s turned out to be right in that he’s certainly back here again, still watching you from his spot on the floor. And you don’t know whether it’s his big doe eyes or the fact that he really would guard your apartment all night if you let him or the genuine fear that one of the other neighbors will make a fuss at his presence, but you feel yourself softening.
Turning abruptly, you stride into the kitchen for your glass of water, walking out of sight of the door, which is still wide open.
“You coming?” you call, pulling two glasses down from the cupboard.
There’s a rustle as Jungkook stands and shuffles into your apartment, closing the door behind him with a soft thud. For someone who was so determined to defend you tonight, he seems uncertain now that he’s actually inside. His hands are once again stuffed in his pockets, and his eyes flicker around like he hasn’t been here a thousand times. Hasn’t cooked you breakfast in this kitchen in nothing but his boxers. Hasn’t watched The Notebook with you on this TV and held you as you both cried.
Hasn’t made love to you on the couch.
You slide a water his way, and he murmurs his thanks, sipping at it lightly. It’s strange–seeing him here again–and you can’t help but think about the last time he stood in this room. It’d been a maelstrom of accusations and hurt feelings that culminated in him storming out, the slam of the door echoing in your ears.
“You never cleaned that?” He gestures at the rug that covers most of the sitting area in your living room, eyes on the dark purple stain roughly the size of your hand.
You gulp down your water and try not to follow his line of sight. Try not to remember how you’d knocked over a glass of wine in your haste to get his clothes off during another movie night less than a month before your breakup.
“I kind of forgot about it,” you say. “Stopped noticing it after a while.”
It’s a lie. There was never a time when you didn’t notice it, the memory of him haunting you every time you sit down on the couch and stare at the garish stain. And still, you haven’t been able to bring yourself to try and erase it.
Silence worms its way between you again. With only the soft light from the tabletop lamp glowing next to the couch, Jungkook’s face is cloaked in shadow. And so you barely see his lips move when he speaks. Barely hear it with how quietly his whisper slips into the room.
“I’m sorry.”
Your glass almost drops from your fingers, droplets splashing across your knuckles as you catch it at the last moment and steady it on the countertop. Turning to face him, you find his gaze already on you, melancholy tinting his expression.
“What?”
He tongues his lip ring, shoulders dropping a fraction. “For how things ended. I’m sorry.”
You can see the sincerity in his posture, can see the sadness in his form. And yet, his words only fill you with a hot anger that bubbles out of you before you can swallow it down.
“I don’t know why you would be,” you challenge, “being that you didn’t even respect me enough to give me a proper reason.”
Jungkook huffs at that; you think he’s resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Did it really matter?”
“Yes.”
He gnaws at his lip again, no longer looking at you, and his lack of an answer only riles you up further.
“Was there someone else?” you demand, causing him to flinch. It was the same thing you asked him when he told you he thought you should break up, standing in almost this exact same spot.
“No,” he murmurs after a moment. “There wasn’t anyone else.” He pushes a hand through his dark, silky hair. “There hasn’t been anyone else since either.”
This surprises you. Jungkook is, in your eyes, the handsomest man you have ever come face-to-face with, but even from an objective standpoint, he is exceedingly attractive. There is no doubt in your mind that he would easily be able to land a woman if he so desired.
“So then why?”
He sets his jaw, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows and fixes his stare out the window. And it’s this final refusal, this steadfast dedication to not explaining himself, that finally has tears tracking down your cheeks.
The sight of you crying has his attention snapping back your way, hands reaching out as if to hold you.
“Don’t touch me,” you gasp, recoiling until you’re out of reach. “I…I hate you.”
It almost seems as if your voice lands physically, and Jungkook staggers back like you’ve slapped him, remorse immediately wiggling its way between your ribs. You know you don’t mean the words even as they fall from your mouth, but it feels pointless to take them back now, the sentiment already thrown out there and hovering in the hollow space between you.
Jungkook muddles towards the couch–more of a defeated slump dragging his steps than anger–and you think he’s going to sit down before he whirls back towards you at the last second.
“The gala,” he mutters. “That’s when I decided.”
You know which one he’s talking about. Hosted by your medical school to celebrate the end of the academic year, it had been a night of food, dancing, and socializing. You had, of course, brought him as your date and introduced him to your friends and classmates, excited to finally allow him to put faces to names. As you comb through your memories of the night, you can’t pinpoint any warning signs, only remembering the way he’d smiled at you throughout. The way he’d pulled you close and danced you around the room.
“I don’t…I don’t understand.”
He rakes his fingers through his hair again, tossing strands of night over his forehead. A sad chuckle looses itself into the thick air of the room, and the final dregs of his resolve flicker away. “I realized that I didn’t deserve to stand next to you. That you could do much better than me.”
Whatever you thought his reason had been–whatever theories or thoughts had kept you up night after night for the past year–this is not even close to what you expected. And while you always thought finally receiving an answer would be freeing, would offer you some semblance of understanding, you’re surprised at the rage that boils in the pit of your stomach, bile rising in your throat.
“Are you fucking serious right now?” you growl, taking an angered step towards him. “You were feeling insecure, and you made the decision to break up with me without even thinking to, I don’t know, discuss it with me first?”
His hand goes to the back of his neck now, embarrassment showing its face as he peers at you from under his lashes. “I was stupid–”
“No, shit.”
“But can you blame me?” he presses. “There we were: you, about to be this incredible doctor with all of your doctor friends…” His voice falters, sorrow lacing his tone. “And I’m just a tattoo artist.”
The defeatist way he says it helps to dampen your ire some, even if a heap of frustration remains–the sad shape of his doe eyes softening your edges.
“Just a tattoo artist,” you repeat. “Jungkook, I have always been so, so proud of you. I was never anything but proud to have you as my partner. You must’ve known that.”
His teeth worry his lip, and though he nods, he doesn’t seem fully convinced.
So you continue on, closing the distance between you a fraction more. “You started your own business from nothing. And I saw how hard you worked: to get the building, to hire other artists, train your apprentices.” You shake your head–half in irritation, half in awe. “And look at you now! You’re thriving. The last I heard, if you want an appointment at Golden Tattoo, you need to book months in advance.”
His eyes are alight now, some hidden emotion glimmering under the surface, but he stays quiet as he soaks in your words.
“So how can you possibly act like you weren’t enough?” you push. “You are amazing, Jungkook. And I never gave a shit about any job comparisons people may have made.” One more step, and suddenly you’re almost chest-to-chest. As always, you’re unable to resist the pull of his gravity. Yanked right back into his orbit. “I only wanted you. I’ve only ever wanted y–”
He cuts you off with his mouth, strong hands snagging your hips to pull you against him, and your own fingers reflexively tangle in his black hoodie as your subconscious gives itself over to him. Like it’s been waiting for this.
“I’m not. Not thriving,” he mumbles against your lips. “Not without you. Been miserable without you.”
And in spite of your anger, in spite of the fact that you were ready to kick him out a mere hour ago, you find yourself kissing him back, relishing the slick glide of his tongue as he licks into your mouth.
You startle as the backs of your knees suddenly bump against the couch, and then Jungkook is spinning as he settles onto the plush seat, pulling you along to straddle him. He sucks at your neck until you can feel the blood blooming under your skin, painting you like the pretty ink on his arm.
Speaking of.
The fabric of his hoodie whispers as you pull it up and over his back and head, tossing it over his shoulder and into a corner. His arms now bare to you, you gloss over his tattoos with your eyes and fingers until you find the one you’d picked out for him; the lovely orange of the flower petals seem to glow even in the dim light of the room.
“Beautiful,” you whisper.
“Just like you.”
You look at him then, the twinkle of tiny galaxies in his eyes betraying his hope. And before you can go any further, you need confirmation.
“You left.”
“I did.” Fingertips press lightly against your waist like he’s afraid you might be the one to disappear now. “I’m sorry.”
“Jungkook, if…” You lick your lips. Can almost taste his regret. “If we do this and you leave again–”
“If we do this, I'm not going anywhere,” he insists, tugging your hips down to grind against him and ghosting a kiss at your jaw. “Just wanna be here with you. Just want you.”
And it’s all you need to hear.
You shed the cotton shirt you had thrown on after your shower and move to yank his own off, tossing it in the same corner as his hoodie. The muscles of his pecs and abs shift under your hands, burning hot where your fingers trace the contours of his torso.
“God, I missed this,” he groans as he buries his face between your breasts, nipping at the skin there before laving the spot with his tongue.
You’d agree–echo the sentiment that your body has been aching for this–if not for the fact that you’re too busy trying to get the two of you naked, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your shorts.
But a tattooed hand covers yours, eases it away to take its place. “No,” he rumbles. “Let me.”
Wide palms and long fingers span your hips and thighs, grasping as much skin as possible even as he drags your shorts and panties down your legs and helps to steady you as you kick them off. They join the tangle of his own clothes
“Fucking gorgeous,” he growls at the sight of you finally naked in front of him. And with such speed that it almost seems like it’s involuntary, an impulse outside of his control, he’s immediately stroking at the apex of your thighs.
“Baby, this wet for me already?” A breathy sigh passes from his mouth to yours, almost laughing at the ease with which he glides through your folds. “Hell, I could just–”
A finger slips in and you gasp, Jungkook smiling wickedly at you as he quickly adds a second and curls them against your walls. You force your eyes closed as they roll back in your head, and you keel forward, babbling incoherently against the line of his collarbone.
“Use your words, love; you can do it.” He says it as if his fingers aren’t currently buried in you down to the knuckle. As if he’s not making you see stars behind your eyelids right now.
You choke down a breath, desperate for the oxygen. “Insane,” you pant. “I said you’re fucking insane.”
“Only for you,” he says before sliding his digits out of you and dipping them into his mouth. He moans at the taste, and even with his lips closed tightly, you can see the way he’s working his tongue around each finger, unwilling to waste a single drop of your essence.
Like you said. Insane.
He gives you a moment to catch your breath until you’re the one who’s getting impatient, hastily undoing his belt and tearing it from his pants with a hiss. But as you shift off of him so he can slither out of his pants and boxers–his length springing free to slap against his smooth stomach–you’re hit with an untimely realization.
“Jungkook, I don’t have condoms.”
He freezes, the color draining from his face (though admittedly, that may be because all of his blood has clearly gone south). The two of you stare at each other for a long second before he suddenly leans over, rummaging back through his pants pockets. He pulls out his wallet, rifles through it, then tosses it across the room in frustration, head tilting back against the couch as he groans at the ceiling.
“Fuck, me neither.”
You chew at your lip, a loaded quiet settling over the room as Jungkook wipes a hand over his face.
“I’m still on birth control,” you whisper, and Jungkook whips his head around, eyes wide and questioning like he’s not sure he heard you right. But you don’t repeat yourself, only hold his stare until he’s tentatively reaching out to graze his fingertips along your thigh.
“I told you. There’s been no one else.” His expression is earnest, eager. You trust that he’s telling the truth, and yet you also know that if you refused him, if you said you weren’t comfortable, he wouldn’t push.
So you swing a leg back over his lap, drag your wet folds against his cock. He moans, gripping your thighs hard, but he leans in to bite at your lower lip with a growl before pulling back to search your face.
“You?”
It hurts that he even feels the need to ask. Because how could you even want someone else? Who could possibly measure up?
You brush a reassuring, barely-there kiss against his already swollen lips. “No one else for me either.”
This seems to please him, but you still see hesitation behind his eyes as he asks, “What about the guy downstairs?”
A drunken mistake was what that was. All sloppy lips and fumbling hands that had left you feeling more empty than anything, and which resulted in you sending Cheol away before he had even gotten a peek at your bedroom.
“We made out once,” you admit, hating that you’re even having to think about another man when Jungkook is here in front of you. “But nothing else happened.”
“Good,” he grunts, but his fingers dig into your backside like he’s trying to reclaim you. And just a fraction of a second later, he’s devilishly tonguing his lip ring as he winds his palm back to bring it down harshly against the meat of your ass, the smack echoing between the walls almost endlessly.
“Ride me, baby.”
You’re quick to line him up–desperate, at this point, to have him inside of you–and begin to ease yourself down slowly, trying to give your body the space and time to adjust to the burning stretch of his girth. He’s always filled you to your absolute limit, tested the furthest boundaries of how much your body can take with his size.
“Yesss,” he hisses, nipping at your neck once again. “You’re doing great, love. Always take me so fucking well.”
You gasp as he bottoms out, struggling to catch your breath with the relentless push of him. If you were a betting woman, you’d put money on your intestines being somewhere in the area of your throat right now.
He wraps his inked arm around your waist, continuing to whisper his praises against the shell of your ear as he starts to guide your body up and down. Intoxicated by the smooth slide of his length, you soon find your pace, and your shared moans fill the room–the whole city probably able to hear you right now.
You move that way until the pressure building becomes too much and your legs start to tremble, quivering against Jungkook’s own muscled thighs.
“It’s okay; I’ve got you.” He bands his arms around you and presses you to his chest, holding you in place so he can thrust upwards.
Hard.
You’re practically screaming now, burying your teeth into his shoulder so as to muffle your sounds and not scare the neighbors. It’s all you can do to hold on for dear life as he rapidly pistons his cock inside of you, the slap of your hips like a metronome.
It builds and builds until it breaks and you’re falling apart in his arms, the spasms of your inner walls pulling him over the edge with you as he empties his seed deep inside.
The silence that follows in unlike the others you previously shared this evening–tension traded for serenity as you sit on the couch holding each other, you still contentedly stuffed full of him. He traces the ridges of your spine in a soothing pattern that has your eyelids drooping, your cheek resting against the warm skin of his neck.
“I missed this,” you whisper once your brain has finally remembered how to construct human speech.
“I missed you.”
You pull back so you can rest your forehead against his and gently run a finger over the lines of his face. “Where do we go from here?”
He hums. Tucks a stray hair behind your ear. “Take it day by day?” he suggests. “We don’t need to rush into anything if you don’t want to.”
“Mm, that does seem like a problem for tomorrow.”
A dark eyebrow quirks, teasing. “And what about right now?”
“Now?” you ask. “Do you remember the way to the bedroom? Or…” You shift your hips, already feeling him twitching inside of you.
“Or.” He jolts forward to capture your mouth in a hot kiss, and you smile into it, whole again. “Or sounds good.”
a/n: pls like, reblog, reply, and/or send an ask if you enjoyed! <3
#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#bts x reader#bts x you#bts imagines#jungkook imagines#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfic#bts angst#bts smut#bts fluff#bts fic#bts fanfic
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A Decade Of Love » Max Verstappen
summary: as you and max celebrate ten years together, take a look at a snapshot of your social media for each one of those years
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
2015
liked by carlossainz55, ynusername and 24,706 others
maxverstappen1: excited to make my debut on the grid down in melbourne this weekend 🏎️
4,381 comments
username1: so excited for this opportunity for you max!!
carlossainz55: LETS GO TEAM 🎉🎉
username2: can’t wait to see you in that car racing round 🤩
username3: good luck max, you’re gonna smash it 🫶🏻
ynusername: there aren’t many excuses that could be used for missing a fourth date, but this might just be one of them 😂
maxverstappen1: @/ynusername I promise I’ll make it up to you 🥺
username4: practice was looking fly, such a natural 🥰
sebastianvettel: start of a very bright future my friend ⭐️
username5: already my favourite driver on the grid 🏎️
danielricciardo: looking forward to seeing you get started in f1!!
maxverstappen1: @/danielricciardo thanks for all your advice!
username6: cannot wait to see you absolutely smash it 💪🏻
aussiegrit: looking forward to cheering you on in the paddock max!
username7: officially now a formula one fan!!!
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
2016
liked by redbullracing, danielricciardo and 50,118 others
maxverstappen1: P1 BABY 🎉 thanks to the whole team for an incredible weekend, the first top spot podium of many 🏁
14,607 comments
redbullracing: congratulations max, the whole team is so proud of you ❤️💙
username8: couldn’t be prouder of you max, you’re amazing 💕
danielricciardo: stop showing the rest of us up like this 😂😂
username9: you’ve only been here a year and already winning races 😂
lewishamilton: first win is always the hardest, only up from here 📈
username10: the perfect race, the perfect future world champ 💪🏻
ynusername: I don’t think my heart can take watching you race for the next few years ☺️
maxverstappen1: @/ynusername I can’t make any promises for less dramatic victories 😂
username11: you were incredible, first of many I’m sure!!
estebanocon: awesome to see your first win, good job!
username12: enjoy all the celebrations tonight, it’s so well earned 🩷
carlossainz55: congratulations, the most incredible drive 🏎️🏁
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
2017
liked by maxverstappen1, aussiegrit and 48,707 others
ynusername: it’s taken two years but finally we get a break!! adventuring with you is my new favourite thing to do 🫶🏻🌅
6,491 comments
username13: so glad you two could finally get away for a while 🫶🏻
username14: these photos are STUNNING ✨
carlossainz55: idk where this place is but I want all the details about if from you!!
username15: if you’re looking for a third wheel to your holidays, I’m available!!
maxverstappen1: the best time with you, can’t wait for our next adventure 🛫🏖️
username16: you just know max did absolutely none of the planning for this trip 😂
danielricciardo: and the invite for best friend daniel was where exactly??
ynusername: @/danielricciardo funnily enough I don’t actually remember inviting you 🤷🏻♀️
username17: thank you for blessing my timeline with these photos!
username18: so happy that you two got some time together 💕
ybffusername: cannot believe you went on holiday without me…traitor 💔
ynusername: @/ybffusername promise next holiday I’m all yours 🥰
username19: thank you for making us all so incredibly jealous with these photos 😭
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
2018
liked by redbullracing, charles_leclerc and 79,301 others
ynusername: if anyone is looking for a pt during the off season…here’s my portfolio 💪🏻☺️
6,382 comments
sebastianvettel: if you need another athlete to branch out you know where I am ☺️
username20: I love you for putting max through his paces still 😂😂
danielricciardo: I’ll hire you…only to spend time with you though 🥺
ynusername: @/danielricciardo don’t tell max but I’m all yours whenever!
username21: if it means spending time with you, I’m down 🙌🏻
maxverstappen1: thank you for showing people that I’m still a dedicated athlete even during the off season 💪🏻😘
username22: my heart just stopped seeing these photos of max…
charles_leclerc: is it true once you’ve gone for a run you then go for coffee and cake? 🤔
ynusername: @/charles_leclerc can you not share all my secrets thank you 😂
username23: can I train the athlete instead of have the pt???
schecoperez: already the best pt that I know 😂🫶🏻
username24: I hope you’re charging max for all these extra sessions 😂
carlossainz55: stop hanging out with that loser and come and see me instead 😀
username25: these photos will get me through the off season 😅
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
2019
liked by landonorris, carlossainz55 and 1,493,079 others
maxverstappen1: cannot wait to spend forever with you, mrs verstappen has a pretty nice sound to it 💍🌊
129,573 comments
username26: omg congratulations guys ✨
charles_leclerc: how did you manage to not tell anyone you were planning to propose 😂
danielricciardo: @/charles_leclerc hate to burst your bubble but I knew!
danielricciardo: yes I’ll be your best man 🤵🏻
maxverstappen1: @/danielricciardo I don’t actually remember asking you 🤷🏻
username27: this is the best news ever 🎉
ynusername: have I mentioned how excited I am to marry you?? 🥺🥰
maxverstappen1: @/ynusername you might’ve mentioned it once or twice!
landonorris: @/ynusername you’ve told me about twenty times 😂
username28: I can’t believe my favourite couple are getting married!!
username29: wedding spam incoming and I’m absolutely buzzing for it 🥺
carlossainz55: can’t wait for the best wedding ever next year 🥂
username30: I’ve been wishing for years for this moment to happen and now here it is 😭
heidiberger_: just throwing my name into the hat for bridesmaid 😉😉
username31: I’ve never hurried to like a post so much in my life 💙❤️
georgerussell63: couldn’t be happier for such an incredible couple!
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
2020
liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 194,281 others
ynusername: BEST DAY EVER 💍💞
34,695 comments
username32: look at how beautiful they are 😭
carmenmmundt: thank you for inviting us to the most beautiful day ever 💕
username33: 📣 MAX IN A SUIT 📣
username34: I’ve been counting down the days to today and these photos do not disappoint!!
landonorris: I’m not nice to you often…but today you looked beautiful yn 🥰
ynusername: @/landonorris that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me 😂
username35: imma keep refreshing my feed now so I don’t miss any wedding photos
danielricciardo: still slightly bitter I didn’t get the call up for best man 😂😂
ynusername: @/danielricciardo I offered you flower girl, not my problem you said no 🤷🏻♀️
username36: have you ever seen two people more in love in your life???
username37: I don’t wanna be that person…but now imagine these two as parents 🥺🤯
charles_leclerc: easily in my top ten weddings I’ve ever been to 😂
ynusername: @/charles_leclerc what an honour 👑
username38: if anyone’s wondering, this is the sort of relationship I’m dreaming of
maxverstappen1: I wish I could relieve this day forever, you looked beautiful 💕💕
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
2021
liked by redbullracing, alex_albon and 2,492,183 others
maxverstappen1: WORLD CHAMPION 🌎🏆
so proud to win what’s been an incredibly tight season. thank you to my team, my family, friends, and most importantly my wife for always supporting me and pushing me to be at my best. this is for you guys 🩷❤️
348,503 comments
ynusername: words fail me…I’m so proud of you my love!! all the hard work has finally paid off 💙❤️
maxverstappen1: @/ynusername thank you for always being my number one fan 💞
username39: we all knew this day would come one day 🏎️🏆
username40: world champion max verstappen sounds absolutely glorious 🥺
danielricciardo: I told you one day that title would be yours…couldn’t be happier for you my friend 🤝
username41: that overtake at the end, stop playing with my heart verstappen!!
landonorris: can I have your autograph please mr world champion 😂🖊️
username42: so proud to have been with you since day one, we always knew you’d get here one day
aussiegrit: congrats max, and well done for bringing that trophy back home 💙❤️
redbullracing: we could not be prouder to have you as part of our team, thank you for all your efforts this year 🏆
username43: the first of many world titles I’m absolutely sure of it!!!!!! ☺️☺️
georgerussell63: enjoy the celebrations, looking forward to another year of battles next year
schecoperez: what a great team we make 😂🤝
username44: I’m still not over the moment he ran over to yn at the end of the race 😭
alex_albon: turns out you’re quite a good driver…who knew 😂😂
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
2022
liked by maxverstappen1, heidiberger_ and 359,219 others
ynusername: we’ve been keeping a little secret…🕊️🤍
27,281 comments
maxverstappen1: the best secret in the world, couldn’t wish for anyone better to be mother of my child 🫶🏻
username45: this is the most amazing news, congratulations you two!!
username46: I always said they’d be amazing parents and now it’s happening 😭
redbullracing: red bull baby grow order is pending to the factory as we speak
landonorris: if you need a candidate for godfather you know where I am 🤙🏻
schecoperez: if anyone is going to be godfather then I think you’ll find it’s me!
danielricciardo: I’ve known max longer so if anyone should be godfather it’s me 🤷🏻
heidiberger_: if daniel is godfather than I’m throwing my name in the hat for godmother 😂
ynusername: we haven’t made any decisions yet 😂
username47: I wish this child knew just how lucky they’re going to be with all these guys around them
sebastianvettel: I always knew you two would make the perfect parents one day from the moment I met you 🥺
username48: cannot wait to enter the dad max era 🥺
carmenmmundt: I’m moving into your house asap for all the baby cuddles!!
charles_leclerc: it’s about time we had another little one to annoy around the paddock 😂
username49: counting down nine months starting now…
fernandoalo_oficial: at least now we don’t have to listen to you bang on about how desperate you are to be parents 😂
username50: is it acceptable to be this excited for two people that aren’t me to be having a baby??
carlossainz55: who’d have thought those two kids from all those years ago would be settling down like this…
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
2023
liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 2,706,173 others
maxverstappen1: turns out being a dad is actually the coolest job after all 🫶🏻👼
182,472 comments
schecoperez: I told you that months ago when you didn’t believe me 😂
username51: these photos are the softest things I’ve ever seen!!
landonorris: it’s a good job he’s got yn’s genes 😂😂
maxverstappen1: @/landonorris remind me again why I’m friends with you??
username52: hands down the luckiest child in the world 🥰
username53: I can’t deal with how adorable these photos are 😭
username54: I still remember the fresh faced rookie and now look at him omg
danielricciardo: who’d have thought you’d be able to make such a cute kid 🤯
username55: officially can confirm that dad max era is the best kinda era
redbullracing: we couldn’t be happier to welcome verstappen junior to the red bull family ❤️💙
username56: this smile is definitely not leaving my face for a long while now…
charles_leclerc: that’s the same way you used to look at me when I started in f1 😂
maxverstappen1: @/charles_leclerc I definitely don’t look at you that adoringly anymore 😂
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
2024
liked by schecoperez, carmenmmundt and 783,102 others
ynusername: always your biggest fan ten years down the line, even if I’ve got a bit more competition for the job these days!! 🫶🏻🏎️
53,820 comments
maxverstappen1: i really am the luckiest guy in the world to have you three in my life! 💞
ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 absolutely no way, i'm the lucky one
username57: i can't believe how far you guys have come!! 😭
danielricciardo: when i spoke to ysn he actually said that i was his favourite driver last week
maxverstappen1: @/danielricciardo did your parents never tell you it's rude to tell lies? 🙄
username58: have you ever met two more adorable kids in your life???
carmenmmundt: when do i next get to see these beautiful little humans??
lilymhe: @/carmenmmundt we are long overdue a catch up!!
ynusername: @/lilymhe @/carmenmmundt i promise we're coming to a race soon and i'll let you obsess over the kids all weekend long!
username59: max really is winning at life these days
landonorris: some notes my way like that might just help me to beat max next year btw 😂
username60: my heart can't cope with how adorable that note is omg
oscarpiastri: posting these is one way to win the award for softest driver in the paddock...please take that title from me max! 🏆
charles_leclerc: btw i plan on stealing your children and keeping them forever, they're just too cute!!
username61: how am i jealous of those kids that they get to call max dad and i don't
carlossainz55: remember i've been a fan of max for exactly four weeks longer than you...and i'll never let you forget it!! 😝
schecoperez: hurry up and bring them to the paddock...I miss them!
ynusername: @/schecoperez haven't you got enough of your own kids to keep you entertained??
username62: this family really is the definition of perfect...
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
#f1#f1 imagine#formula 1#max verstappen#max verstappen imagine#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x you#f1 fanfic#formula one#f1 reaction#max verstappen smau#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#formula x reader#formula 1 social media#formula one x reader#formula one imagine#formula 1 fic#formula 1 fanfic#f1 smau#f1 fluff#f1 x you#f1 fic
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good & bad
🌙 staring. Kim Mingyu & Jeon Wonwoo x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. “My new therapist says it’s healthy behavior to let Wonwoo do what he wants to do ever so often,” you explain, watching Wonwoo beat Seungcheol at the arm wrestling and proceed to down two shots in celebration. “I’m not sure how she can think him coming to frats, getting drunk, and getting into pissing contests is healthy, but hey, it’s not my job to counsel power holders.”
tw/cw. Threesome, unprotected sex, dirty talk, fingering, dry humping, horny!gyu, dom!wonwoo, Wonwoo tells virgin!Gyu what to do, hand job, Wonwoo using his power to help y/n ride Mingyu, manhandling, size kink, groping, nipple pinching, praise, degradation, voyeurism, pussy stretching, cream pie, multiple reader orgasms, etc… I pet names: (hers) gorgeous & baby.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 8.8k
🍭 aus. superpower au, uni au, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I was thirsting for another Meanie fic and I came up with this super power, I'd never seen it before and I thought it would be fun :)
Prologue:
“We thought she just had an active imagination,” your mother explained, reaching over to grab your hand and give it a soft squeeze. “Most kids show signs of powers when they’re six or seven, she’s ten now, so we just thought maybe she wouldn’t have any. Her father is a none-supe, so we came to terms with it years ago.”
The doctor was looking over your family file, and she nodded softly, looking up at your mother, then to you. “When did you first see signs that these imaginary friends of hers weren’t just in her own head?”
“There were little things,” your mother admitted. “I was cooking one night and she was drawing. When I looked again, the paper next to her had this image on it- a completely different art style to what she had been doing. When I asked her who drew it, she told me that Mingyu had.”
“Mingyu is one of her imaginary friends, correct?”
“Yes, she has Mingyu, who at first was described as the ‘good’ one, and Wonwoo, the ‘bad.’”
“Something akin to an angel and devil on your shoulder,” the doctor nodded.
“Exactly.”
“After the art incident?”
“She was outside one day, tossing a ball around, and the ball bounced back to her, like some invisible person had thrown it back. At first, we thought maybe she had some sort of telekinesis, but she told me she was playing catch with Wonwoo.”
“So this was the first instance you saw proof that one of her imaginary friends could actually manipulate real-life objects, correct?”
“Yes.”
The doctor leaned back in her chair. “Are there any other events that have happened that push you to believe these imaginary friends of hers are real and it’s not a telekinesis power?”
“Well, y/n fell off her bike last week. Her knee was all scraped up. I was about to run and get bandages when this soft glow appeared over her knee. The scrape disappeared and she told me that Mingyu had healed her.”
“Very interesting.” The doctor had looked at you then, rolling forward on her chair. “Can I see your knee, please?”
You lifted the hem of your dress, showing your leg. There wasn’t so much as a scratch where Mingyu had healed you, and your ‘imaginary friend’ leaned over the doctor's shoulder to inspect his work.
“Can one of these imaginary friends move an object in the room for us?” The doctor had asked next. “Perhaps, a book on the shelf over there?”
“Wonwoo can do that,” you’d nodded, gazing over at the boy your age who was leaning by the door, a disinterested look on his face.
With a sigh, he’d approached the bookshelf, reaching for a copy of War and Peace. The book had clattered to the ground.
“I don’t like being paraded around like this,” Wonwoo had mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Very interesting,” the doctor nodded. “It appears there might be some power at work here. I’ve never heard of a power like this one- two imaginary friends, one of which has healing abilities. I’ll make a note of it, and we will see how the power progresses with age. It’s possible as your daughter grows, so will the strength of these friends of hers.”
“Do you mean…” Your mother looked down at you nervously. “Is it possible we’ll ever see these friends ourselves? Or do you think they’ll stay invisible forever?”
“It’s anyone’s guess on that. As I said, I’ve never seen a power like this one. All we can do is wait and see what happens.”
one
You’re seated on a musty old couch in the middle of a loud frat party, and a large part of you really doesn’t want to be here. Even with your friend Joshua keeping you company, you’re not here for yourself, and that always feels obvious to those around you.
Your gaze keeps shifting to Wonwoo, who’s having the time of his life. He’d done a keg stand the moment you’d arrived, and now, he’s in the middle of an arm wrestle with Seungcheol, the frat president, who, like your dark protector, also has a strength power variation.
Dino, a new pledge approaches you, handing a fresh cup of alcohol to Joshua. Like you, Dino’s eyes are locked on Wonwoo. “Tell me again why that dude isn’t part of the frat? I’ve never seen anyone go toe to toe with Seungcheol like this.”
“Should I tell him, or do you want to?” Joshua grins, bumping his shoulder against your own.
“You can tell him,” you sigh. In the past ten years since you found out you had an unusual power, you’ve gotten tired of explaining it.
“Dino, this is y/n, y/n this is Dino. Dino, y/n has a power where she has two imaginary friends, except, these days, they’re not so imaginary,” Joshua begins. “Wonwoo is one of y/n’s imaginary friends-”
“Wonwoo prefers the term companions,” you quip.
“Right, one of her companions,” Joshua corrects himself. “He’s got super strength like Cheol does. The reason Wonwoo’s not in the frat is because he can’t go more than a ten-meter radius from y/n, he’s tethered to her.”
“That’s a weird power,” Dino muses.
“Don’t be rude,” Joshua snaps, smacking the pledge’s arm. “Anyways, y/n’s not a huge fan of frats, so Wonwoo can’t join because she won’t be caught dead here more than once, maybe twice, a week.”
“My new therapist says it’s healthy behavior to let Wonwoo do what he wants to do ever so often,” you explain, watching Wonwoo beat Seungcheol at the arm wrestling and proceed to down two shots in celebration. “I’m not sure how she can think him coming to frats, getting drunk, and getting into pissing contests is healthy, but hey, it’s not my job to counsel power holders.”
“You said you have two uh… companions, where’s the other?” Dino asks, looking around.
“Mingyu’s staying inside tonight, he doesn’t agree with this sort of thing,” you sigh.
“Staying in?” Dino’s brows furrow in confusion. “I thought you said there was a radius thing?”
“Staying in here.” You tap your head.
“He’s… inside your head?” Dino’s face scrunches up in something like disgust. “You have a dude in your head right now?”
Before you can answer, another frat boy comes running up. Seungkwan looks frazzled, his shirt haphazardly buttoned, eyes wide. “Y/N!” he bellows. “Quick, I need Mingyu! Some kid is greening out and puking in the bathroom upstairs!”
In an instant, your light protector appears next to you. Mingyu stands up quickly, face already shadowed with concern. “Show me where.”
“Jesus-” Dino jumps from the sudden emergence of the six-foot-two brick wall of a man.
“Come on,” Mingyu urges, grabbing your hand to pull you from the couch. You let out an annoyed groan as he drags you through the crowd after Seungkwan, leaving Joshua and Dino in your wake.
You arrive to the second-floor bathroom, and you wait outside while Mingyu goes to investigate. Ever since the frat found out Mingyu has healing powers, they call on him for any sort of drunken mistake, including greening out. One touch from Mingyu can clear nausea, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to his powers.
You’re at a university dedicated to helping people train their abilities, and yet, you often feel like an outsider. It had been clear that you’d been struggling when you arrived, after all, you yourself don’t have any overt powers other than being connected to two men with astounding abilities, and that’s when you’d been assigned a therapist.
This whole ‘do things for Wonwoo and Mingyu’ idea has been a lot to wrap your head around, but you’re trying to make it work-
Wonwoo bounds up the stairs, his eyes alight with anger. “What are you two doing up here?” he practically growls.
“Mingyu’s helping some kid who greened out,” you explain.
“Of course he is, fucking knight in shining armor. Doesn’t he know this is my night? He’s ruining it with good deeds- pulled me away from beer pong.”
You sigh. “Discuss this with him.”
“I will,” Wonwoo states, pushing past you to enter the bathroom.
Releasing a deep breath, you sink against the wall, listening to the two men argue. Their words are muffled by the loud music that thrums through the house, and you don’t particularly care to know the details of their heated exchange.
You’re exhausted, and after looking at your phone for the time, you decide enough is enough. Pushing your head into the bathroom, you find Mingyu and Wonwoo holding each other by the front of their shirts, and their argument stops the moment you appear.
“It’s past midnight, I want to leave,” you sigh.
“But-” Wonwoo begins.
“That’s a good idea!” Mingyu grins.
“Wonwoo, I know this is your night, and I’m sorry, but I just can’t do this right now.”
Wonwoo frowns at your words, then releases Mingyu. “Fine, whatever. Let’s just go.”
two
“You seem agitated,” the therapist notes, watching the way Mingyu is fidgeting on the couch.
“It’s just…” he casts a sideways glance at you and Wonwoo, seated next to him with noise canceler headphones on, “I worry that they can hear me.”
“I can promise you they can’t. The noise cancellers are playing loud music. This is your time to talk with me.”
“Still…” Mingyu frowns, “it feels weird.”
“We can ask Wonwoo to go back inside y/n’s head if you’d like.”
“I don’t want that either, Wonwoo prefers to be outside.”
The therapist looks down at her notes. “Tell me more about that. What does being ‘inside’ feel like.”
“It’s dark,” Mingyu explains. “I can’t really explain it. Wonwoo and I don’t sleep, so I don’t know what sleep is like- but I’m pretty sure it’s not just dark boredom the way being inside feels.”
“Do you both have a preference for being ‘out’ then?”
“I mean… it’s a whole lot nicer than being in.”
“Have you ever discussed this with y/n?” The therapist cocks her head, and it’s clear she’s trying to understand, but Mingyu’s still not used to her.
“No. She has enough on her plate, especially now with the whole ‘give Wonwoo time to do what he wants to do’ thing.” Mingyu looks down at his hands, and he picks at his skin.
“I take it you don’t enjoy doing what Wonwoo wants to do.”
“No, and neither does y/n. My night in control is all about good food, relaxing, and watching Netflix. Wonwoo’s night in control is frat parties, keg stands, and getting into fights.”
“Sounds like comfort versus destruction.”
“Destructive is a good word to describe Wonwoo,” Mingyu admits.
“Aside from your feelings on frat parties and keg stands and fights, do you think you each having time to choose what’s happening has been beneficial?”
Mingyu thinks about it for a moment. “Wonwoo has been less of a dick lately.”
“That’s good news.” The therapist jots down some notes. “If I may, from the way I understand y/n’s power, you and Wonwoo are both parts of her. Opposing parts, but parts nonetheless. Do you think it’s possible that seeing as you’re both parts of her, there’s some part of y/n, perhaps even some part of you, that enjoys frat parties?”
Mingyu only shrugs.
“From what I understand, you mostly stay in during Wonwoo’s controlled times. If you weren’t so focused on disagreeing with his morals, or whatever it is you do disagree with, are there things about frat parties that you might like?”
“Maybe.” Mingyu picks at his skin again. “I do like to dance.”
“What if I challenge you to be out more at frat parties, to let loose and give it a chance?”
“I’ll do it because you’re asking me to, but I’m not sure how good it will feel.”
“Maybe that’s something to discuss at our next one-on-one.”
Mingyu can only shrug. He’s been tied to Wonwoo for over ten years now, and he doubts much could change the destructive, obnoxious way he views your darker half.
three
When you’d been accepted to a superpower-focused university, you’d been enrolled in things that would benefit both Mingyu and Wonwoo’s powers. For Wonwoo, you have to go to the gym with him and watch him lift obscene amounts of weight. The gym isn’t your favorite place, but at least you can get a workout while he trains. For Mingyu, on the other hand, he’s doing healer training in the hospital, and due to doctor-patient confidentiality, you’re stuck sitting in the hallway outside the exam room where he heals people.
It’s quite boring.
The one shining grace is that Wonwoo often sits with you, and the two of you watch anime on your phone together. Although Wonwoo doesn’t complain as much as he used to about being bored, you can tell from his slouched stance and heavy sighs that he’s just as tired of this whole thing as you are.
“You know,” you say, nudging him between episodes, “you don’t have to sit with me.”
“If you have to be here, I have to be here.”
“You can go back inside, I wouldn’t blame you.”
“I’m entertaining, you’re less bored when I’m here,” Wonwoo insists. “Waiting for Mingyu is boring. You weren’t bored at the frat though, because frats are infinitely more fun than hospitals.”
“It might be boring,” you admit, “but… either way, it’s nice to see you both thriving. I think this therapy thing has been helpful with seeing all sides of this power.”
“As long as you’re thriving too,” Wonwoo notes, casting you a sideways glance. “It will be girls' night soon- you can have a whole night without us.”
“For real this time?” You narrow your eyes at the man who had ‘popped out’ during your last girls' night. While you enjoy Wonwoo’s company, both he and Mingyu make it very difficult to have female friends, who always get caught up in a sense of longing for the gorgeous men.
“For real,” Wonwoo sighs.
“Good, because if I get propositioned by one of my friends again for them to get a chance to sleep with one of you, I might just poke my eye out with a fork.”
Wonwoo lets out a soft chuckle. “Maybe that’s something you want to talk about with the therapist in your next session.”
“Maybe it is,” you huff, hating whenever Wonwoo says something that’s actually valid.
Your eyes turn back to your phone, where the anime has progressed through its recap and intro. As boring as sitting in a hospital for hours is, Wonwoo does make it a little bit easier.
four
Wonwoo appreciates Mingyu staying inside your head for his therapy sessions. It’s less stress having only you seated next to him, your noise cancellers on, your head leaned back, eyes closed. He thinks you might be sleeping, and he’s happy you can rest while his psyche is getting poked and prodded by the therapist.
“How are your classes going?”
“Fine,” Wonwoo murmurs.
“Elaborate on the word fine.”
He shrugs. “Fine. Not good, not bad. Just… fine.”
“What’s the not good aspect of that?”
Wonwoo looks up at the therapist. He doesn’t want to open up, but you’ve encouraged him that this is the place to do it.
With a loud sigh, he leans back against the couch. “I guess… last week we had a class about prospective jobs for people with strength powers, and I don’t know… all the other guys have options. They could join superhero teams, make a difference- and I can’t.”
“You can’t?”
“No, I can’t,” Wonwoo repeats. “I’m tied to y/n. Anywhere I go, she has to be within a ten-meter radius. I couldn’t run into danger and worry about her getting hurt. She’s my priority, not anyone else. No matter how much I want to do more with my power- I can’t.”
The therapist cocks her head at him, assessing him with analytic eyes. “It sounds like you’re saying you feel like perhaps your skills are being… repressed, in a way.”
“I guess you could say that.” Wonwoo looks down. “I just… it’s not as bad for Mingyu. He could get a job at a hospital and y/n would be safe there. She’d be bored out of her fucking mind. But she wouldn’t be in danger. I’m starting to think that’s the best path forward, as much as I hate to admit it.”
“Do you think y/n would prefer that path?”
“I don’t know. Haven’t talked about it with her.”
“For three people so closely tied together, it seems as though there’s not as much communication about the important things as there could be.”
“We talk,” Wonwoo insists.
“When was the last time you all talked about something important?”
Wonwoo can feel hot anger bubbling up inside of him, but luckily, he has a quick example. “We talked about how we feel about this whole sharing time thing.”
“And?”
“Mingyu and I both like it, but… as much as y/n says she’s okay with it, I’m pretty sure it’s draining her to be bored all the time.”
“Earlier you said being tied to y/n has restrictions, do you think being tied to the two of you has restrictions for y/n too?”
“Clearly it does.” Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “Some days, I think she’d prefer to be powerless and be at a regular university.”
“Has she ever voiced that to you?”
“She never would, even if she felt it. No matter what it might look like to outsiders, the three of us care about each other. Or… well, I care about y/n, and so does Mingyu, and she cares about us.”
“You and Mingyu still haven’t been getting along I take it.”
“Nope.”
“And yet, Mingyu is inside right now. He’s giving you space to have a private conversation, which is a grace you don’t return when it’s his chance to talk with me one-on-one.”
“I hate being inside her head.” Wonwoo has never told you this, but most nights, when you go to sleep, he waits for you to be fully passed out before coming out again. He sits on the couch, watches anime- Mingyu’s gotten on his case for it a number of times, but Wonwoo hates boredom like he hates sand, hot weather, and the way Mingyu hums to himself when he cooks for you. “I don’t like being inside,” Wonwoo states again, more firmly this time.
“If you had your preference, how often would you be out?”
The answer comes quickly, “A hundred percent of the time.”
“And this is not something you can talk about with y/n?”
“It would make her uncomfortable,” Wonwoo says. “She never talks about it, but- she’d never had a proper relationship, she can’t with two dudes in her head or hanging around all day. I bet she can’t even touch herself without worrying me or Mingyu will pop out- I can imagine it would be very uncomfortable, and if I asked to be out all the time, it would put even more pressure on her. I don’t want that.”
“You care about her a lot.”
Wonwoo doesn’t see the need in responding.
The therapist clicks her pen. “Do you often think about these things? About… y/n’s sexual restrictions due to you and Mingyu?”
A wave of heated anger flashed over Wonwoo’s skin at the question. “I’m not a fucking pervert.”
“I never said you were, I’m just trying to understand the way this unique power affects that aspect of y/n’s life, of your life. Humans are sexual beings, and repression of desires like that can lead to anyone being pent up and frustrated.”
“If you’re asking if I’m a virgin, I’m not.”
“No?”
“Y/N’s had sleepovers with other girls since coming to university. More than one of her friends has propositioned me.”
“How frequent are these… encounters?”
“Not at all now. Y/N was getting upset with her friends falling for me, and sometimes I felt it was unfair to the girl. I can never have a relationship. On top of that, I felt bad keeping it a secret from y/n.” Wonwoo lets out a sigh. “It’s better for everyone if I keep it in my pants.”
five
Girls' night is going very well so far. You and two friends have already watched a movie, and now, while checking for your next rom-com, you’re all chatting about classes.
Jenni has ice powers, and she’s progressed an astounding amount already with how long she can use them. Yeji, on the other hand, can manipulate sound waves, and there have been all sorts of weird ways she’s adapted that for offensive and defensive situations.
It sucks sometimes to listen to them gush about their powers while you don’t really have any of your own. Besides Mingyu and Wonwoo, you feel like you’re just y/n. You yourself have no super strength or healing, no mind reading or telekinesis- you’re… just y/n, and in a university surrounded by amazing power wielders, it can be hard to hold your head high.
“Anyways, enough about us,” Jenni says, turning her eyes to you, “How are Wonwoo and Mingyu doing? I heard Mingyu’s one of the top healing power students this year.”
“Yeah, they’re doing good,” you shrug. “We’ve been spending more time at the hospital, Mingyu seems happy to be helping people.”
“He’s definitely the good one,” Yeji nods, flashing a grin at Jenni. “Are they gonna pop by tonight? They’re both uh… really hot.”
“I don’t think so… this is girls' night.”
You don’t miss the way Yeji frowns or the way she exchanges a glance with Jenni.
“Anyways,” you turn to the TV, “should we start our movie?”
The girls nod and you begin to watch your next rom-com. You try to enjoy having just girl time, but soon, you start to get hungry.
“How do you feel about ramen?” you ask.
“Oooh yum!” Yeji’s eyes brighten at the idea, and you immediately stand to go to the kitchen.
You haven’t even reached for a pot to boil water when you feel a presence beside you, and you turn to look up at Mingyu.
“You guys need a cook?” he grins.
You let out a sigh, turning to see if Yeji and Jenni have noticed Mingyu, but they’re leaning together discussing classes.
“Gyu,” you whisper, “You shouldn’t be here.”
“But I thought maybe you’d wanna relax and I could cook?”
“Wait-” you narrow your eyes at him, “this is the second time in two weeks you’ve popped up at the exact time something was convenient for you. First with someone getting sick at the frat, and now with cooking-”
Mingyu looks guilty, and you cross your arms over your chest, waiting for him to explain himself. “Look… my uh… my power has been getting a little better and I kind of have a general sense for your thoughts when I’m in your head now.”
“What!?” You can’t help the way your voice raises, and you see Jenni and Yeji whip to look at you from over the couch. “Since when!?”
“Just for a bit-” Mingyu raises his hands in defense. “Look, I especially didn’t hear anything about Yeji calling me hot like two seconds ago.”
Now you’re mortified, and one look at your friend’s pink face shows you she is too-
Before you can say another word, Wonwoo appears, and he gives you a once over, then Mingyu. “I uh… sensed a disturbance in the force.”
He’s such a nerd, and in an odd way, he actually calms you down a little. “You know what? Fuck it. Mingyu, you can cook for us, but when you’re done, you’re both going to my room and wearing headphones and not eavesdropping on my girls' night!”
“Okay, you got it.” Mingyu turns to begin making the ramen, and before you can go to join your friends, Wonwoo grabs your arms.
“Uh, sorry about this,” he apologizes, and you’re shocked he’s apologizing for Mingyu’s behavior. “Neither of us really like being ‘inside,’ I think… he was just looking for an excuse not to be cooped up.”
“I’m very sorry,” Mingyu says over his shoulder.
“Look- we can talk about all of this later,” you sigh, trying to process what Wonwoo just said. “Please just- this is my night, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Wonwoo nods. “We’ll try not to be a bother.”
six
At this point, you’re pretty sure neither Wonwoo or Mingyu can hear you talking to the therapist, after all, whenever you have the headphones on, everything else is muted by music. Even so, if they were to hear you, part of you wouldn’t care.
“It was girls’ night,” you state. “Girls’ night. My night. And even though I asked them to stay inside and not interrupt, they still popped out! And it turns out, their powers have been getting better, so now, even when they’re inside, they can sense my thoughts?! I have no privacy! It’s a disaster!”
“Deep breaths,” the therapist encourages you. “I can see why that would be frustrating.”
“Very frustrating!” You let out a deep sigh, and you’re shocked when it helps calm you down. “The thing that really bugs me though- is Wonwoo said they don’t like being inside.”
“What about that bugs you?”
“Because now I feel bad- now I feel like I’m being a bad friend whenever I ask them to go back inside- but, a girl needs alone time. She needs girl time- without two hot guys walking around and making her friends drool and go all googly-eyed!”
“What about your friends ogling Mingyu and Wonwoo frustrates you?”
“I guess- it’s more than the fact that they’re both hot,” you admit. “I think- sometimes I think I feel lesser to begin with because I don’t have any overt powers. I feel powerless in a university of power holders. It’s hard to make friends if you can’t do anything flashy- I never know if girls are friends with me for me, or for them.”
“Let's touch on that feeling of being lesser for a moment, then we can circle back to everything else,” your therapist suggests. “You said you feel powerless, although, the way I see it, you have two top-tier protectors. Mingyu is the highest-ranked in his healing classes, and his professors say he’s extremely gifted. And Wonwoo is strong, he’ll protect you no matter what.”
“But those are their powers, not mine.”
“They only exist because of you. Have you ever thought about your future after this? After school?”
“Not extensively,” you admit.
“How would you feel about being outside an operating room, about Mingyu being the main breadwinner and using his powers to take care of you?”
This isn’t something you’ve ever considered, and the notion takes you by surprise.
“Many people use their powers to make a living, Mingyu is no different, and since he’s an extension of you, allowing him to use his power to take care of things would be moral, it would be natural even, don’t you think?”
“Are you suggesting I be a pretty little stay-at-home powerless tether to a healer?” you ask.
“It’s one possible outcome if that’s something you’d be interested in.” The therapist cocks her head at you. “You enrolled in this university, obviously you care about Wonwoo and Mingyu furthering their powers- I would find it difficult to see you go through all of this only to get a regular job that doesn’t utilize them.”
“I really have not thought that far ahead.”
“Think that far ahead for a moment. Tell me your ideal situation.”
You sit there, thinking. The Mingyu outcome she’d just painted was interesting, so you dare to consider a Wonwoo option. Could you go with him on hero missions? No. He wouldn’t let you. The Wonwoo path wouldn’t be good for anyone. Wonwoo gets distracted enough about your safety when you try new weight machines.
“Maybe… maybe going forward with Mingyu’s healing career would be good.”
“Healers with the aptitude he has go far in this life,” your therapist notes. “You wouldn’t have to worry about money, or getting hurt.”
“But what about…” You bite your tongue. When Mingyu and Wonwoo had first become visible to others when you were fourteen, it felt like a dream, but when you’d been sixteen and unable to spend time with boys for fear of one appearing- you’d started to realize the downside to having two constant protectors. You try not to think about having a relationship too often, but now that you’re being asked to consider your future, you know you’d be happier to have someone in your life five years from now- even a week from now if that was possible.
“What are you thinking?” the therapist asks.
“Just that… as years go by, I feel like my hopes for getting a boyfriend diminish more and more. If we’re talking about my future, the one thing I know for sure is that I want someone to share it with.”
“You have someone. Two someones, in fact.”
Your heart skips a beat in your chest. “Are you suggesting…”
The therapist shrugs, sending you a girlie smile, one Yeji has sent your way multiple times before. “Are you interested in either of them that way?”
“I mean… sure… look at them.” You cast a sideways glance at Wonwoo, then Mingyu. “But… would it be weird to do that? They’re part of me, aren’t they?”
“Self-love and acceptance is the most important part of life, or so many Yogi’s say.”
“Yeah, but… I don’t know, I’ve always thought maybe that would be crossing a line.”
“What line?”
“An invisible one?” you suggest, not quite having the words to explain it yourself.
“Listen, I understand why this might be daunting. It would change the dynamic, as I’m sure you know, but, if you are looking to be romantic with someone, or two someones, I know that it would be hard to find a man who would care about you and want to take care of you the way Mingyu and Wonwoo do.”
“Is it okay for you to be suggesting this?” you ask.
“My job is to further your development, to straighten out any roughness in this dynamic. I’ve not shared this with you yet, but my power is to see auras. Whenever you talk about Mingyu or Wonwoo, your aura lightens, it’s a sign of love. Theirs lighten when they’re talking about you too. Wonwoo’s in particular is quite dark, but whenever you come up, he’s shockingly thoughtful and candid. Mingyu’s easy to read, as I’m sure you know. They both care about you, and you care about them.”
“I guess- if they feel that way, why haven’t they ever said anything?”
“You’re the boss, y/n, I think sometimes maybe you forget that.”
seven
If there’s one thing all three of you can agree on, it’s anime. Nights spent watching shows together are always very civil, and you enjoy the peace of this, even as you begin to get a little sleepy.
When you yawn for the third time, Mingyu turns to you. “Do you want to go to bed?”
“Nah, not bed, I think I just need a nap,” you explain. “But don’t worry, you don’t have to go back inside, I can just… curl up here and rest for a bit.”
You and Mingyu are on the main couch, with Wonwoo on the solo seater just next to you. You lay down, but Mingyu’s so big and takes up half of the space, so your feet end up haphazardly on top of his lap, and it’s not the most comfortable position.
“Do you want me to be the big spoon?” Mingyu suggests.
“That would be nice,” you admit.
You don’t often get that close to Mingyu and Wonwoo, but on rare occasions, when you’re feeling an extra need for protective energy, you’ve found yourself as a little spoon.
Carefully getting behind you, Mingyu opens up the space so you can stretch your legs. A soft sigh escapes you as you curl up to the pillow, with Mingyu’s warmth heating your back.
You close your eyes, and while you are able to rest, you aren’t able to fall asleep.
Your mind is too full of thoughts about your last therapy session. Now that a professional has given you the go-ahead to explore things sexually with your two protectors, it’s frequently at the forefront of your mind. Having Mingyu’s strong body behind you isn’t helping any of these dirty thoughts, and you do your best to readjust slightly, trying to get into the most comfortable position in the hopes that you’ll pass out.
“You good?” Wonwoo asks.
“You seem fidgety,” Mingyu notes.
“Just thinking,” you sigh.
Wonwoo casts you a glance. “About?”
“Just…” Should you tell them? “I guess I had a kind of weird chat in therapy yesterday.”
“Our therapist is definitely a little unconventional,” Wonwoo agrees, and from the look on his face, you can tell he’s had an interesting chat or too as well.
“Do you want to tell us what happened?” Mingyu asks softly, his hand soothing against your arm.
“We were talking about the future,” you explain. “She asked what I wanted with my life. I hadn’t thought about it much before, but… I did tell her that one thing I’ve always wanted is a relationship. I don’t see myself getting old and being alone, you know?”
“You’ll never be alone,” Mingyu assures you, wrapping his arm tight around you to pull you close to his chest. “We’ll always be here with you.”
“And that’s the thing,” you let out a small laugh. “I’m out here wishing for a life partner, when I already have two.”
The room goes quiet, neither of your protectors say anything. You hear Mingyu take in a sharp breath, and Wonwoo looks at the man over your shoulder. There’s an unspoken communication between the two of them, and then Wonwoo’s eyes meet yours.
“What are you saying, y/n?” he asks.
“I guess… what I’m saying is…” You take a deep breath, mustering up your courage. “What if… what if we gave it a try?”
“Gave it a try?” Mingyu repeats.
“You know, it.” You look at him over your shoulder, willing him to understand.
“I think you need to spell it out for him,” Wonwoo chuckles. “He’s such a goody toe shoes he doesn’t get that you’re propositioning us for sex.”
“She’s what?” Mingyu’s lips part in confusion, and he looks between you and Wonwoo.
“I mean, unless you don’t want to-” You’re quick to try to back out of this, feeling anxious that you’d ever even brought it up.
“We want to,” Wonwoo assures you. “Mingyu’s been in love with you since we were sixteen.”
“Have you really?” you ask, blinking up at your bright protector.
“I uh… well…” Mingyu stammers, his skin turning a cute shade of pink.
“And what about you, Wonwoo?” you turn, looking at the stoic man. “Are you in love with me too?”
“I’m the bad one, remember?” Wonwoo smirks. “As if I’d get sappy like he does.”
“I feel like that’s a yes,” you grin, heart thundering in your chest at this new development. “How come neither of you ever said anything.”
“We’re not big fans of putting pressure on you,” Mingyu says softly.
“It would also change things,” Wonwoo notes.
“Yeah, but, part of me thinks it would change things for the better,” you admit.
“So…” Wonwoo pauses your show, turning to face you and Mingyu. “Are we going to do this?”
You swallow the lump in your throat, giving a quick nod.
“Yeah?” Behind you, Mingyu presses closer, his hand caressing your arm again, his breath hot along your throat. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“I think he wants to hear you say it,” Wonwoo grins. “We both do.”
“I want…” your words falter, but you’re quick to steady yourself even as Mingyu rubs his clothed cock against your ass. “I want you both to fuck me.”
Mingyu presses his lips to your neck, it’s a soft kiss, but it sets your body on fire. You let out a sigh of delight, tilting your head to give him more access. Tingles of pleasure erupt across you as he continues to press his gentle lips to your skin, his hand slipping down to cup your hip.
He squeezes you, almost enough to hurt, and it’s a rough motion from your generally gentle giant- it betrays how he feels, how deeply he wants you, and it makes you moan in excitement.
“We should move into the bedroom,” Wonwoo directs, standing from the single sofa. “Come on,” he reaches down for you, easily lifting you from Mingyu, who lets out an annoyed whine.
Sometimes you forget Wonwoo has the power of strength, and he carries you like you weigh nothing. His gaze is forward, his intentions set on getting to your bed, and it’s so incredibly sexy you think you might die.
“How do you want to do this?” Wonwoo asks softly.
“Hmm?” You’re a little shocked at the question, and it takes you a moment to even register it. “Oh, uh… no anal?”
Wonwoo laughs, looking down at you with those pretty eyes of his. “Yeah, that feels a little advanced for you.”
“Fuck you, I can be advanced!”
“Sure you can, just not tonight.” Wonwoo places you on the bed, and Mingyu, who had been following the two of you, is quick to big spoon you again, his lips returning to your throat.
Your eyes are on Wonwoo, and after a moment of watching you, he gets onto the bed too, facing you.
“You sure you’re ready for this?” he asks, cupping your cheek.
“Uh huh.”
Wonwoo only laughs, shaking his head slightly before he brings his mouth to your own. It’s a soft kiss, and it takes you off guard. Behind you, Mingyu is getting more and more restless, all hands and tongue- but Wonwoo, in contrast, feels as cool, calm and collected as a cucumber.
At this point, Mingyu is practically dry-humping your butt, grinding his front against you and moaning. His sounds are awfully distracting, and you break your kiss with Wonwoo to look over your shoulder at the man who immediately grabs you to bring your lips to his.
Wonwoo lets out a chuckle again. “I’ve got good news and bad news. The bad news is, Mingyu’s a virgin. The good news is, that means he’ll be easy to teach.”
“I’ll be good,” Mingyu murmurs against your lips.
“Wait.” You turn to look at Wonwoo again. “He’s a virgin… you’re not?”
“I’m the bad one, you keep forgetting that,” Wonwoo laughs. “It’s not like you’re an angel either.”
That’s true, so you choose not to dwell on it. Instead, you grab Mingyu’s hand on your hip, guiding it down to your abdomen, then bellow the waistband of your sweatpants.
“Do you want to direct him, or should I?” you challenge Wonwoo, who cocks a brow at your change in tone.
“Touch her pussy, Gyu. Tell me how wet she is.”
Mingyu moans in your ear as his hand explores further down, his fingers brushing over your clit then between your pussy lips. “Fuck, she’s so wet, and so warm-”
“Tease her a little. Her clit is at the top, it’s this small, pearl-shaped bud. Girls love it when you play with that. She’ll be dripping by the time you’re done.”
God, hearing Wonwoo talk like this is taking your breath away, and you squirm as Mingyu does as he’s told, his touch lingering on your clit.
“I found it,” Mingyu groans, pressing his cock against your ass again. “Does this feel good, baby?”
“Feels so good, Gyu,” you whine, your hands reaching out to grab Wonwoo’s broad shoulders like an anchor.
Wonwoo watches your every expression. “Once she’s wet enough, you can try to slide one of your fingers into that tight pussy of hers. It’s important to stretch her out since I know you’re packing.”
A shiver runs through you now. Mingyu’s big- you know it in your bones, you feel it against your ass-
“Can I?” Mingyu asks, sucking on your ear lobe. “Can I put my finger in your tight, wet pussy?”
You nod. “Please-”
He teases your opening, and you wait with bated breath for him to finally push in. When he does, you both moan loudly.
“Fuck her like that for a bit, then see if she can handle another finger,” Wonwoo instructs next. “While you’re doing that… how do you feel about stroking me off, gorgeous?”
You swallow thickly, nodding. Then you reach down for Wonwoo’s pants, helping him shift them down to his thighs. His cock slaps up against his abdomen, hard as a rock and glistening with precum. He’s big, on the longer side more than thick, but you don’t mind. You grasp him, rubbing your thumb through the precum to spread it across his skin.
“Do you need direction too?” Wonwoo grins at you.
“Don’t even try it,” you warn him.
“I was just teasing, you don’t seem to mind Mingyu’s teasing.”
“That’s cuz he’s-” Your words are choked off as Mingyu thrusts his finger in your pussy. “He’s doing a different kind of teasing.”
“Can I add another?” Mingyu groans in your ear, seemingly oblivious to the bickering between you and Wonwoo.
“Yeah,” you nod, stroking Wonwoo faster while you wiggle your hips as an open invitation to Mingyu.
Two fingers drag through your pussy lips, and when Mingyu pushes them into you, you swear you see stars. You throw your head back, eyes closing in ecstasy-
“If you crook your fingers, there should be a soft, spongy spot. That’s called the G-spot, girls like it when you apply pressure there,” Wonwoo tells Mingyu.
You feel Mingyu’s fingers beginning to explore inside of you, and you let out a whimper when he finds the spot Wonwoo is talking about.
“Looks like you found it, Gyu,” Wonwoo grins. “See? What did I tell you? A quick learner.”
Mingyu applies more pressure to your G-spot as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you. Soon, you can hear how wet you are, and Wonwoo’s eyes darken.
“I think you’re just about ready for him, don’t you?” he asks.
“Yeah- fuck it, yeah,” you nod quickly. “Let's all get naked.”
Mingyu’s hand is out of your pants before you can even finish your sentence. He licks his fingers off, groaning at your taste, before he rips off his pants and shirt.
Your clothes are quick to follow, discarded onto the floor. “I’m gonna ride him,” you announce.
“Sounds like a good idea,” Wonwoo nods.
You swing a leg over Mingyu’s hips, your hands flat on his chest- when you look down at Mingyu, you’re overwhelmed with a feeling you quite can’t explain. Bending down, you press your lips to Mingyu’s, capturing his cock between his body and your pussy. You grind against him while you make out, a flurry of tongues and whimpers of pleasure.
“He might not last long, so I’d be careful if I were you,” Wonwoo warns, and you feel his body behind yours, his hands trailing up your sides.
You pull away from Mingyu, grabbing his cock and lining it up with your pussy. He’s so big- and his tip stretches you out as you slowly seat yourself down onto him, your wet hole taking inch after inch until you’re full to the hilt.
“Fuck-” Mingyu whimpers, his hands settling on your hips.
“Feels like heaven, huh?” Wonwoo asks.
“Even better than heaven,” Mingyu breathes.
Wonwoo’s lips find your throat, and you arch your head back, enjoying the way his hands capture your breasts, massaging you. His thumb and pointer squeeze your nipple and you gasp, your pussy clamping down on Mingyu, who groans loudly.
“You should start riding him,” Wonwoo says, his mouth hot on your neck. “Here, I’ll help you.”
Wonwoo’s hands find your hips, and he lifts you off of his fried before pushing you back down. You let out a whimper of pleasure, closing your eyes and resting your head back against Wonwoo’s shoulder.
With his super strength, he can easily lift you up and put you back down on Mingyu’s cock, effectively taking away all the leg strain so you can enjoy every moment of Mingyu filling you up.
“I might be bad, but I can be nice,” Wonwoo coos. “Look at me doing all the work.”
Mingyu lets out a grunt, and he begins to thrust up to meet you, driving his cock even deeper into your pussy.
“Fuck-” you gasp, reaching behind you to thread your fingers in Wonwoo’s hair.
“He feels good, doesn’t he?” Wonwoo asks. “Hey Gyu, rub her clit. Wonder if we can get her to cum for us.”
Mingyu’s thumb finds your sensitive bud and you squeal with delight, pussy throbbing around the massive cock impaling you.
Each circle of his digit on your clit drags you closer and closer to the edge, your sounds filling the room-
“She’s gonna cum,” Wonwoo announces. “Tell her how badly you want to watch her cum.”
“Wanna watch you cum,” Mingyu moans.
“That’s not very original,” Wonwoo tuts.
“Fuck, you look so good bouncing on my cock. We both wanna see you cum. You’ll cum for us, right?” Mingyu looks so desperate. Lips puffy and parted, skin a soft pink, dark hair curled with sweat by his strong brow-
“Okay, okay- fuck,” you groan. “I’m gonna- fuck, I’m close-”
“When a girl tells you she’s close, don’t change anything,” Wonwoo tells the man below you. “Don’t add pressure or take pressure away from her clit. Don’t change your pace- the only thing I’d say you can change, is you can fuck her harder, but since you’re the bottom right now...”
Wonwoo’s grip on you tightens, and he bounces you even harder onto Mingyu’s cock, which makes you nearly cry from how good it feels. “Oh my god, oh my god-”
“How about you cum for us?” Wonwoo suggests. “I’m sure you’ll get Mingyu there too.”
“Are you gonna cum with me, Gyu?” you ask, looking down at Mingyu from under heavy lids. “Please- I want you to cum with me?”
Mingyu lets out a grunt, his brows furrowing in concentration. You’d bet he’s holding off his high now, waiting for you, waiting for the moment you say it’s okay-
The cord in your stomach coils tighter and tighter, and when Wonwoo leans over you to whisper the word, “Cum,” in your ear, you can’t even help yourself.
Your pussy tightens like a vice on Mingyu’s cock, all the tension snapping as waves of pleasure throb from your core outward to the rest of your body. The moan you let out is obscene, and the one Mingyu echoes is even worse, in the most sinful, sexy way.
“Fuck-” Mingyu grabs your hips, forcing you down on him completely, unable to move while the contractions of your orgasm milk his cock for all he’s worth.
“Look at you two cum whores,” Wonwoo breathes, and for some reason, the degradation doesn’t phase you in the slightest. “Bet you both needed that, didn’t you?”
You can only whimper a sound of affirmation.
Wonwoo’s hands smooth along your back, helping your body calm down from the aftershocks of your orgasm.
“Let me know when you’re ready for more,” he says softly.
“Now,” you respond without hesitation. “Fuck me now.”
“You’re that eager?”
“Eager- plus the moment we’re done, I think I might pass out,” you admit.
Wonwoo only laughs. “I’m going to help you off of him, then it’s face down, ass up. You good with that?”
“So good with that,” you grin.
It’s easy enough for Wonwoo to help you off of Mingyu. He sets you next to your gentle giant, who’s still trying to catch his breath.
You immediately push your butt toward Wonwoo, arching your back and looking at him over your shoulder.
“Wow, you really are ready,” he muses, hands gliding over your ass. “Don’t fall asleep on me or it might bruise my ego.”
“Sleep after you cum, so don’t worry if it’s quick.”
“What if I want to take my time?” Wonwoo asks, dragging his cock up and down your slit.
“Then I’d say you have so many other opportunities in the future to take your time, but right now, I just want to be full, and then I can pass out between you and Gyu.”
“You know what? That doesn’t actually sound that bad.” Wonwoo presses his cock into your wet hole, Mingyu’s cum acting as a kind of lube that makes it all too easy for Wonwoo’s length to glide against your walls.
“Fuck-” you groan, grabbing at the bed sheets.
Wonwoo isn’t as thick as Mingyu, but somehow he reaches deeper. Two hands spread your ass cheeks so each rough thrust has Wonwoo’s cock going as deep as possible, his tip kissing your cervix and making your toes curl.
“Taking it so good,” Wonwoo muses, digging his fingers into your flesh.
“So pretty,” Mingyu whispers, pushing a stray strand of hair from your face.
He leans in, and you find yourself kissing Mingyu while Wonwoo rails you from behind. You can hardly help your moans as Mingyu’s tongue glides over yours.
“It’s kind of hot watching you two make out,” Wonwoo admits, his thrusts slowing so he can appreciate the view in front of him.
“Yeah?” You kiss Mingyu even harder and he shuffles closer, groping your breast.
“Rub her clit for me Gyu,” Wonwoo instructs. “If she wants this fast, we’ll have to get her to cum first.”
Your body tingles- you should have known Wonwoo would want one of your orgasms for himself if you gave one to Gyu. You have no problems with them providing you pleasure and you providing them with a view of your high in return.
You simply relax while they work you up together, acting in unison.
Mingyu’s fingers are rubbing your clit in rough circles, and the feeling of Wonwoo filling you up has you going crazy. You’re doing your best to hold onto the moment, but you can feel yourself getting close to the edge again.
“You’re getting tight, gorgeous,” Wonwoo muses. “Gonna cum for us?”
“Yeah- almost there,” you whimper, arching your back even more so when Wonwoo drives forward, he hits a specific spot that has you seeing stars. “Fuck-”
“You feel so good, want to feel you cum on my cock, wanna feel your perfect pussy get all tight and creamy with my cum-” Wonwoo grabs your ass tighter, and the slight pain paired with his dirty words is enough to throw you over the edge.
Your entire body tenses as the cord of pleasure snaps, erupting through you like a volcano of white, hot intensity. “Fuck-” you whine, and Wonwoo echoes the sound as your pussy grips him harder than ever before.
“Shit, I’m cumming,” Wonwoo warns you, his thrusts faltering as he shoots his load deep inside your throbbing core.
He lets out sinful groans, and you love the way he sounds as he rides you through your orgasm, roughly ramming into your gspot with shallow thrusts that feel like heaven.
Wonwoo finally comes to a stop, and you can feel him breathing heavily against your bare shoulders.
“Clean up time, then bed,” Mingyu reminds you before you can close your eyes and fall asleep then and there.
“Right-” you whisper lazily, resting your cheek against the comforter.
“Here, I’ll help you, but only if I get to be your big spoon,” Mingyu suggests.
You nod. Wonwoo pulls out of you, and Mingyu is quick to bring a warm cloth to your aching core, wiping up the cum and getting you situated. He helps you lay down, disposing of the towel before joining you at your rear. His lips are soft against your shoulder, his hand gliding the expanse of your arm.
“We love you,” he tells you. “Even if Wonwoo won’t say it cuz he’s a jerk.”
Wonwoo only laughs, laying on his back in front of you and Mingyu. You’re too exhausted to say much other than, “I love you guys too,” and with that, you fall asleep next to your two lifelong protectors.
You don’t know what the future holds, but one thing is clear; as long as Mingyu and Wonwoo are protecting you, you have absolutely nothing to worry about.
☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! this might be low key my hero academia inspired- I've been going through the anime's like an addict lol
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🔮 preview. It’s been interesting learning about yourself and your sexual tastes with Mingyu and Wonwoo
cw/ tw. Threesome, unprotected sex, dildo use, pussy eating, oral (m/f receiving), deep throating, Mingyu monster cock agenda, spitting, spanking, dirty talk, dom!wonwoo, multiple reader orgasms, cream pie, Eiffel tower/spit roasting, double penetration, cumming on y/n’s face, masturbation, etc… I petnames. Baby & gorgeous.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.3k I teaser wc. 145
🌙 starring. Wonwoo & Mingyu x afab!Reader
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“So,” your therapist grins as she looks amongst you and your protectors, “I’m guessing things are going well?”
You can only smile, squeezing Wonwoo and Mingyu’s hands.
“It’s never been this easy,” Mingyu says wistfully, bringing your knuckles up to his lips to kiss.
“How are you two getting along?” your therapist addresses Wonwoo and Mingyu.
“Shockingly,” Wonwoo sighs, turning to grin at Mingyu, “I feel like we’re pretty good. Once Mingyu started listening to me, for once, things got easier.”
You nearly choke at Wonwoo’s words- reminiscing about how well Mingyu listens to Wonwoo’s instructions in bed.
“This is a good step,” your therapist smiles. “I’m proud of all three of you.”
No one’s ever told you they were proud of you for getting railed like a whore in heat by not one, but two, men- but hey, there’s a first time for everything.
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#mingyu#svthub#thediamondlifenetwork#wonwoo#jeon wonwoo#kim mingyu#kim mingyu smut#mingyu smut#jeon wonwoo smut#wonwoo smut#svt#svt smut#minwon#minwon smut#mingyu wonwoo smut#mingyu svt#mingyu svt smut#wonwoo svt#wonwoo svt smut
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-> Kid Gojo running away from home, meets kid F!Reader. <3
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It was weird, the scorching sun of Kyoto was humiliating her very body. Gasping, panting, heavy breathing, she had just run from a few bullies who wanted to take her limited edition water bottle away. For a child who was so doted on, overbearingly so, but somehow it all being a facade, Satoru couldn’t understand his own life, part of him thought it’s fun & he gets to have whatever he wants. Part of him craved what normalcy means, and how he could possibly achieve it in a stigma of innate power & pedastal he’s crowned with. His birthday recently passed, so many gifts & yet gift giving could lack warmth that much & include agendas? Unbearable. This world was unbearable.
His eyes were powerful, he had been practising with his own given the strict routine of Jujutsu being taught in his clan… Gojo clan, Zen’in clan, Kamo clan… how do normal people behave? Ignorance is bliss indeed, or that is something Satoru swears by for the non-sorcerer community.
Ignorance is utterly blissful, why else was she running towards him without a fear of her life? His eyes widened, school uniform, tattered & bruised knees, beautiful hair that are utter opposite to his, eyes gleaming, happy— kind— before Satoru could say anything, both her hands clasped his arm, using him as a leverage, she hid behind him.
Now, Satoru can handle all the trouble in the world. Small kid with small hands knew his worth, knew his birth shook the sorcerer community & he is god-like. Still, this normalcy felt endearing. The fact that she didn’t ask him, or bow in front of him to be allowed to touch Satoru was, new.
He turned his head to look at her, what was she running from. His gorgeous blue eyes met hers, thick lashes batting in curiosity, “Ano- what are you running from?” He asked, a slight snobbish arrogance lacing his sentence. He just isn’t used to any other way. Could it be that she was being haunted by a curse? What was tormenting this beautiful girl?
“How old are you?” Satoru continued, asking another question.
“I’m eight, turning nine soon. My name is Y/N. I am running from a few people in my school, they want my water bottle & they get anythin’ they want from anyone…” she pouted big, showing Satoru her water bottle. It looked cute, he’d give it that, but for someone who always has whatever he wants, the idea of people bothering someone else for materialistic things seemed unfit.
“Pretty bottle.” He said, taking it from her & examining it further. Maybe he’s missing something? There has to be something valuable about it… he even tried using six eyes to understand, nope… nothing. Just an ordinary bottle in the hands of an ordinary girl.
“They won’t bother you, I am here. I’m really strong.” He grins, so far he’s always been told he’s really strong but this time he has used this to forge his own identity. “Yeah?” She raised a brow, slightly skeptical.
“Yeah- I am already ten years old. Senpai.” Satoru smirked again, what a tiny lady being bothered by a tiny bottle.
“Well, if you really can protect me from those bullies, I can take you home and make you meet my mom. She makes amazing cookies, & she is making a cake today, Fridays are baking days.” This time, the girl grinned back, just as chirpy and excited. Happily accepting herself to be under Satoru’s wing.
The strongest sorcerer in the world, was still a kid. Needed to be loved like a kid. “I could get any cookies I want.” He shrugged.
“Yeah, not my mum’s cookies.” She resisted, pouting & yanking the bottle away.
What was about her mom’s cookies which could be that special? Satoru raised his brows, he has promised to protect someone & what kinda man would he be if he doesn’t keep his promise?
“Okay, I’ll go home with you.” He nods, besides, there is a special naughty joy that erupts in his childish psyche to imagine his butlers being scolded.
Satoru Gojo didn’t have a normal life, yet. This was a good start, maybe a frequent spot to visit when he escapes his gruesome trainings & his role to save the world.
#gojo satoru#gojo fluff#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen#jjk imagines#gojo imagines#gojo comfort#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk#jujutsu kaisen comfort#satoru gojo
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Forbidden
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Synopsis ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪
The new teaching assistant is too hot for his own good, distracting most of the girls in your class. You’re not too bothered by him, he’s just another pretty face- until you get pulled by him for failing the class. It’s every girls wet dream, getting taught by the hot new teacher- and you find yourself slowly falling into a sickly sweet situation.
Warnings ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪
Age gap, inappropriate touching, arguments, angst, eventual smut, obsession, hidden relationship, public sex.
Word count ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪
2.3k
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I II III IV V
Chatter mulls through the room as you sit quietly at your desk, reviewing some of the content for the final year of your class here. You can tell everyone is excited, the final year of this four year course upon you.
You, on the other hand, were less excited. The pressure of the material was very demanding already and you just wanted to get on top of it, keep it down to a minimum so it wouldn’t collapse your entire life.
A door opens at the back of the classroom and the chatter is suddenly gone, a stiff silence falling over the rest of your classmates as they take in someone who is definitely not your teacher, stood at the desk at the front of the class.
Immediately, you hear the hustles of chatter from all the girls in class as they take in the very obviously handsome man stood waiting. He grins, looking around the room and soaking up the attention. You roll your eyes and scoff, not bothered by his pretty face as you look down to review the material for what felt like the ten millionth time.
“Okay guys, enough chatter, let’s get started,” his voice scratches at the back of your brain, something about the way he sounds making you turn all mushy.
“So, you’re probably wondering where Dr.Mendez is, right?” A murmur of agreement washes the room and you glance upward, watching as his hands clasp around a book, stance all flexed as he leans against the edge of the desk. You can see him scanning the room and your eyes meet for a second, him flashing you a brief smile before you’re looking back down, again.
He’s hot. He’s making you all flustered, no doubt like all the other girls in the class- and it frustrated you. You’re just here to learn.
“Well he’s swamped with other classes this year so I’m stepping in to teach, you’re stuck with me,” you can hear the smugness in his tone, basking in the attention from the girls fawning over him.
“I’ll die a happy woman stuck with you, sir,” a whiny voice giggles from behind you and you already know it’s Kendra, a self centered bitch who has done nothing but make your life living hell while being in this class.
He laughs, thanking her, before moving on. You look up again, watching him as he strides around the desk to take a seat on the front of it and opening the book in his hands.
“I’m Rafe by the way. I’d prefer if you guys just called me that,” he looks around the room, thumbing the page he’s currently on as he takes in the entire class. Again, your eyes meet and he smiles again, something you don’t return as you expectantly wait for him to move on with the class.
“Right, so, I’ve been filled in on what you guys have been learning for the past three years, and this is your last year, yeah? Very important.” A chorus of further murmurs flow from the class and Rafe, now you know his name, nods. He slaps his knee, standing as he walks back to his laptop, clicking some buttons before it connects to the large projector.
“I won’t keep you waiting then, let’s get started shall we?”
By the end of the three hour class, you’re exhausted. You’re so ready to climb into your car and get home, climb into bed and have a fat nap. As usual, you’re one of the last to leave class, hating getting caught in the throngs of people all leaving with the same goal as you.
Kendra and her cronies are stood talking to Rafe at his desk as she giggles and twirls her hair around her finger about something he’s saying, and you roll your eyes as you shove your book bag further onto your shoulder and descend the steps down the the bottom of the class.
It really makes you want to scoff, how fucking sleazy she is- really, the guy has just started to teach the class and she’s already trying to get her claws into him. You wonder, sometimes, how she managed to get into an advanced class, but then you remember she was born into money, her perfectly bleached blonde hair and always perfectly manicured nails reminding you of that.
“See you later,” you hear Rafe say and you turn, to see his focus completely on you instead of Kendra. Her scowl could kill if it were possible, mad that his attention is on you rather than her. You smile and nod, waving goodbye before rushing for the door and leaving.
It’s cold out in the parking lot, and you regret parking your car at the far side this morning when you were in a better mood. You���re thankful, however, that this is your only class today and you can just go home and sleep.
The drive to your apartment only takes fifteen minutes, traffic light as a slight drizzle begins to fall on your windscreen, rolling your window down to scan your badge to get into your estate gate.
Your cat greets you through the window of your ground flat as you pull into the parking spot in front of it, turning the engine off and grabbing your stuff before rushing to the door, leaving down to greet whiskers as you close the door.
“Let’s go to bed, eh?” You ask, and he purrs, following you down the hall. When you’re finally relaxed in bed, you find yourself thinking of the new teaching assistant, wondering if he knows what he’s signed himself up for.
“Good morning guys, we ready to start?” Rafe asks the room, cup of something steamy in his left hand. You can hear Kendra giggle from behind you and you just know she’s twirling her hair in her fingers, which makes you sigh.
Today, your friend, Molly, had decided to turn up. You’re grateful, telling her about yesterdays events in a hushed tone as her eyes grow wider the further you tell.
You drop your eyes down to Rafe to see him setting up his PowerPoint again, clicking away on his keyboard.
“Yeah and he literally said goodbye to me, and she was all like grrrr and scowley like? I didn’t do anything,” you tell her, Molly flashing a frown over her shoulder to signify her displeasure. She hates Kendra just as much as the next person.
“To be fair, he is very attractive. I’d be mad if I put that much into my appearance and you stole his attention just like that,” she snaps her fingers to give you an idea of what she means and you blush. You definitely didn’t steal his attention, he was just saying goodbye. Right?
You both fall into silence as Rafe begins talking to the class about different formulas, all the basic stuff that you noticed at the beginning of the content paper. This class is shorter, only being an hour and a half, before you’ve got another class in the afternoon with another teacher.
As you work through the slides, you find yourself glancing at Rafe more and more. You had to give it to him, he was very attractive. Buzzed hair, sharp jawline and sparkly eyes that everytime they looked into your own, sent you dizzy.
Alas, he was your teacher. It begged the question in the back of your head of how old he was, because he didn’t look much older than you to be honest. The slides soon come to an end, Rafe clapping his hands as he thanked everyone for turning up today. Everyone grapples to leave, Kendra hanging by his desk as he lazily entertains her while typing away on his computer.
You bid Molly goodbye as she rushes off out the door, desperate to see her boyfriend before he goes to his next class, leaving you to pack your things as you earwig on what Kendra is saying.
“I think I could do with some extra tutoring, Rafe,” she twirls her hair around her finger again, eyes blazing down at him. Rafe grins, laughing up at her before going back to his computer.
“You’re fine Kendra, I reviewed your papers from last year. No tutoring needed,” you can practically hear the sarcasm from here, and you’re sure Kendra is one more comment away from bursting into tears and ringing her father because the teacher won’t fuck her.
“Oh, okay. If you say so Rafe, but I’m always free,” she scrapes her fingers along his desk, and act that makes you wince as you walk down the steps.
“See you next week, Rafe,” she drawls, before throwing you a scowl, leaving the classroom. You’re about to follow, not wanting to stop and chat, but Rafe does so anyway.
“Hey, I’ve been meaning to speak to you, actually,”
You turn on the spot, swallowing despite suddenly having a dry mouth. You walk back, standing in front of his desk as he closes his laptop and smiles up at you.
“I uh, had a look at your papers from last year,” he begins, but you can’t help your mind from racing already.
“What? I’m not doing anything wrong am I?” You ask, words rushing out of your mouth like you’re spewing.
Rafe shakes his head, eyes never leaving yours. “No, no. I just think you’re lacking some certain aspects that could definitely help you be the top of the class,”
You breathe out, not realising you weren’t breathing at all. He grins, lazily, as he begins to toy with the edge of one of the books on his desk.
“I think I can help you be the best. I’d like to tutor you, if you’d like the help. You can say no and still pass the class but I think the extra help will get you to the top,” he concludes, fingers dancing along the edge of the book.
“I uh, I don’t know. I don’t think that’s very fair one other students,” you quip, pushing your bag up your shoulder. As you do, your skirt pulls up your legs a bit more and you see the brief second his eyes flicker down, before looking back up at you and gulping.
“I can see that, yes. I just think you have the most potential,” you eyes wander back down to his hand, now playing with the edge of the book, other moving up to rest under his chin.
He has nice hands, you think, and immediately want to slap yourself. He’s your teacher.
“Uh, thank you?” It comes out as more of a question and Rafe laughs, circling the edge of the book. You have to pry your eyes away from it.
“You can think. Let me know next Monday, after class. Have the rest of the week.” You nod meekly, smiling lightly at him as you bid him goodbye, heading for the door.
“Oh, and before I forget, make sure you read up on pages one hundred to one hundred and sixty for next week. I know you like to get ahead.”
“You’re going to say yes, right? I mean it’s a no brainer,” she continues, rambling. Truth is, the more you’ve thought about it, the more appealing it sounds. You’d love to be top of the class, make your dad proud, and rub it in Kendras face, like a reminder that money can’t buy grades.
“Like imagine? What if he tries to make a move on you, I mean look at you? Why would he not? Oh my god, this is perfect,” she almost yells, before taking a sip of her wine. You’d not actually thought about that part of it, choosing to mostly ignore it.
But then, if that were his motive, who would he ask you and not Kendra? She was the better option for something like that. You would like to think that it wasn’t one of those deals, that he actually wanted to help you, and that was the part that was convincing you.
“I think I’m gonna say yes, but just for the tutoring, I wanna get better grades,” you tell her, taking a sip of your own glass of wine. Whiskers jumps down from the windowsill next to you, fawning around in your lap before collapsing down and falling asleep. You scratch his head, looking over at your friend who wiggles her eyebrows at you.
“But you wouldn’t turn him down if he made a move, no?”
“I don’t know Mol, he’s just another pretty face to me,” you say, looking over at the tv. You were trying to watch twilight, until you got distracted by rambling Molly who only comes out after some wine.
“Cmon, he’s so totally into you! Turning down Kendra to then offer the exact same thing to you,” she declares, pushing your shoulder back. You have to admit, there may be some truth in her statement, because why would he do that for you but not her?
“I just hope I actually get taught what I’m missing,” you say, causing Molly to roll her eyes. “You’re not missing anything, you’re already one of the top in the class, he just likessss you,” she drawls the likes, making you giggle at her as you bite the edge of your wine glass, contemplating the pros and cons of letting Rafe be your tutor.
You’re going to do it.
Note ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ Hello!! First series I’m actually excited to write ! Teacher Rafe is just 🤩 much love, let me know what you think <3
Check out a teaser for a new series here <3
#rafe cameron#smut#outerbanks rafe#x reader#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron smut#rafe fanfiction#rafe fic#rafe imagine#rafe obx#rafe cameron au#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron and reader#rafe cameron angst#rafecameronteacher#rafe x you#rafe cameron and you#rafeau#obx#obx fic#obx fanfiction#obx x reader#obx season 4#obx4#obx au#obx rafe cameron#rafeobx#obx cast#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader
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Always - L. HS
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Pairing: heeseung X fem reader
Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, cursing, angst.
Genre: brothers best friend.
WC: 4k+
Posting this here because i want to get it out of my drafts since it’s been there forever it’s old so it’s not good but oh well lowkey want to make another story with this trope though 👀 a better one
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“Sure you don’t want to come with?” Your brother Jake cracks open your bedroom door, checking with you one last time.
“I’m sure I’m not feeling well today, so I think I’ll just stay home,” you told him a little white lie, pulling your blankets up to your chest.
“Alright I’ll be back in an hour or so do you need anything?” He asks like the caring brother he is.
“Sleep,” you reply with a chuckle.
“Alright,” he laughs softly and turns off the light in your room.
As soon as you heard the door close from downstairs, you texted heeseung, your brother’s best friend and the guy you’ve been hooking up with for the past couple of months.
Ever since Jake introduced you to heeseung, there was definitely undeniable tension between the two of you, but you both ignored it cause he didn’t want to break the bro code, and you didn’t want to disappoint your brother, so both of you kept your hands to yourselves.
That seemed to be working until you both entered college together, and to celebrate everyone’s success of getting into college, one of your mutuals threw a house party you had to attend cause you were one of the people being celebrated, and obviously, so was heeseung.
That night, neither of you could keep your eyes off the other. It started out with flirty glances and winks from across the room; then, after a few shots, it progressed into you both dancing together, him behind you, holding your waist while you sway your hips to the beat, feeling the unmistakable hardness in his jeans.
The alcohol in your system and the way his hot breath fanned across your face whenever he complimented your figure had you melting into him, and what made you give in completely was the subtle but very effective rolls of his hips, his hard-on brushing against your ass had you pulsing and dripping with need, and evidently, he was just as needy cause the words finally rolled off his tongue. “Let’s go upstairs.” With one last glance around the party, your brother was nowhere in sight, and you both snuck off to a vacant bedroom where he gave you the best night of your life.
He fucked you so good after years of being pent up he released all of his want for you in one night, giving you round after round till you both were numb and shaking with unspeakable pleasure.
That night led you both to hooking up behind your brother’s back you both felt guilty that’s for sure but now that you had a taste of each other there was no way you’d be stopping anytime soon.
Which is why your fingers are excitedly moving across your keypad to set up another hookup.
“My brother just went to the mall. Do you want to come over?”
“Finally, I’ll be over in ten. Be ready when I arrive ;)”
You smile at his text and pull the blankets back, going downstairs to unlock the door for his arrival. You quickly go back upstairs, slipping off every article of clothing before getting back onto the bed and waiting for heeseung.
He seems to arrive earlier than ten minutes he may or may not have sped on the way there he parked a few blocks away to hide his car just in case and made his way to the door not bothering to knock cause he knew you always kept it unlocked for him and besides this was like his second home with as much time as he spent here with Jake he opened the door and headed upstairs straight to your bedroom.
He knocked gently his eyebrows raising with amusement cause the door was already cracked all he had to do was push it open and there you were sitting there looking all pretty underneath the covers. “Hey” he says quietly and steps inside shutting the door behind him.
“Hey,” you reply flirtatiously and peel back the covers, showing off your body.
He bites his bottom lip and tosses his jacket to the side of the room, easily slipping off his shoes, which he didn’t even bother to untie.
You watch him undress, your body already heating up with anticipation.
His shirt comes off next, and he walks to the edge of the bed and climbs on top, crawling over to you until he’s hovering over your naked body. “Always look so fucking pretty for me” he kissed your shoulder, and you wrapped your arms around his neck spreading your legs so he could get in between them.
“I try” You chuckle softly, and he captures your lips in a kiss slotting himself between your legs and pressing his semi-hard cock right against your pussy, causing you to moan of course, he uses the opportunity to slip his tongue inside of your mouth, exploring every last inch of you.
Tangling your hands in his hair, you bring him as close to you as possible, kissing him with just as much desire as he does with you.
When it becomes difficult to breathe, he pulls away the string of saliva between the two of you, getting lost as he starts to kiss down your neck. “Hmm, hee,” his hands trail down your sides, softly tickling your flesh before gripping your waist tightly and rutting himself against your naked pussy your wetness surely staining his sweats.
He nips at the skin of your neck, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine as you buck your hips up into him. “Fuck baby, I can’t wait anymore” he pulls back, staring into your eyes, his eyes full of lust.
“That’s good cause we only have an hour,” you chuckle, running your hands down his chest til you reach the waistband of his sweats, pulling them down along with his underwear till his cock falls out he, ’s rock-hard precum leaking at the tip of his shaft twitching as he catches the way you stare at his length between your legs.
Once you pull his clothing down his thighs, he takes the reins, slipping the two articles down to his ankles, too impatient to get fully undressed. “Turn over. Wanna fuck that pretty little pussy from behind.”
Not one ounce of shame runs through your veins as you turn over on your stomach at record speed, presenting your holes to him.
“That’s it” he bites his lip spanking your ass, and watching it jiggle, he places both of his palms on your ass, kneading softly as he slots his length between your round ass cheeks. “Shit,” he whispers to himself, loving the way his precum stains your beautiful skin. “Ass up for me” You arch your back, burying your face into your pillows as you feel his tip prodding at your pussy lips. “Look at that pussy so wet for me” he slips his first finger in you, groaning at the feeling of your warm cunt clenching around his finger. He added another alongside his index one, and your walls welcomed him with ease. Your sticky wetness aids the process of stretching you out. “Fuck you’re taking my fingers so well could probably just slip my cock in you right now.”
“Yes please I can take it” you laid your cheek on the pillow heart pounding with anticipation as your breath quickens.
“Yeah? Want me to put it in you?” he curled his fingers inside you, causing your walls to clench yet again.
“Fuck yes, please stick it inside me, hee” Your breath gets sucked out of you the moment you feel his bulbous tip enter you.
You’ve been wanting this for the past few weeks and finally you were able to get what you’ve been craving for.
He lets out a sharp breath sinking his hard cock all the way inside you till he bottoms out. “So tight and warm,” he moans softly, his head rolling back as he holds your waist, adjusting to the wet sensation encasing his cock.
Your mouth parts in a gasp, legs going numb as you feel him stretch you out so good.
You grip the sheets, your walls clenching and unclenching around his thick pulsing cock.
He withdrew himself, pulling out until nothing but the tip was left inside and then thrusting forward, filling you up to the brim. “God damn, you always feel so fucking good,” he grunts, creating a steady rhythm sliding in and out of your wet pussy.
“Fuck” you breathe out, eyes tightly closing shut as you focus on the pleasure of his thick length rubbing against your walls so deliciously.
“Yeah? Feel good, baby?” He grabs hold of your shoulders for leverage, stroking your walls perfectly. “Taking it so deep for me,” he smirks, watching the way your pussy lips welcome his cock so warmly. “You like it deep, huh?” His eyes are lidded as he witnesses the sight of your juices, creating a creamy white ring of arousal around his base.
“Yes, love feeling your cock d-deep inside m-me fuck heeseung,” you whimper, unable to contain the way your walls squeeze around him.
“Fuck you’re so tight I’m not gonna last long,” he huffs, speeding up the movement of his hips. It felt too good to slow down the sound of his skin slapping against yours, making him even more feral. “Fuck fuck fuck” he lowers his hands to your waist, holding you still, but the force of his thrusts has you sliding up the bed, his cock head kissing your cervix with every thrust.
“Yes, please don’t stop right there,” you whine, toes curling as you gush around his cock, creating the wettest sounds you ever heard.
“Hear that baby? Your little pussy is talking to me. You must really be enjoying my dick, huh?” He asks, knowing full well you love how he fucks every single time.
“Hmm, yes,” you whine, feeling your high approaching.
“You close? I can feel you clenching on my dick so hard” he lets out a laugh, fingertips pressing into your sides, his balls loudly smacking your ass as his thrusts turn erratic.
“So close,” you mewl.
“M-me too gonna fill this pussy up make it even more creamy baby,” he grunts, thrusting like an animal in heat. Both of you are so close the familiar warm tingling sensation spreads throughout both your bodies.
You could feel it just a second away, but the sound of his phone ringing made you lose focus.
“Fuck” he grunts in frustration. His hand leaves your waist messily, reaching for his phone so he can shut it off and focus back on what’s really important, except when he reads the caller ID, his heart races. “Shit, it’s your brother,” he sighs, slowing the pace of his hips but still fucking his cock deep into you.
“Just ignore it,” you complain, wiggling your ass against him, trying to get him to speed up again.
“I can’t just keep quiet yeah” he takes a deep breath before answering. “Hello?”
“Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to come over I was just at GameStop, and I bought a few new games” heeseung presses your lower back down, arching you further so he can reach even deeper, and you use every last ounce of strength not to moan out loud from the feeling of his thick cock reaching the depths of your pussy.
“S-sure, what time are you fuck-“ he hisses as another gush of wetness releases around his cock. “What time are you thinking?” He swallows thickly, his breathing becoming heavier with each stroke. He’s too close right now. As soon as the call ends, he’s gonna release his load deep inside your sweet juicy pussy and give you what you deserve.
“I’m on my way home in about fifteen. I’ll probably take a shower too, so in about half an hour,” heeseung tries his best to focus on what his best friend is saying, but it’s hard when your pussy squeezes his cock so tight.
“S-sounds good. I’ll come over in about 45 minutes,” he groans softly, but it could still be picked up over the line.
“You okay? You sound weird,” Jake says on the other line.
Heeseung panic’s initially but then comes up with the most feasible answer he can think of. “I’m good just out of energy getting in a really really good workout” he bites his lip to hold in a moan.
“Alright, well, enjoy your workout. See you tonight,”
“See you tonight” heeseung hits the end call button at lightning speed, and as soon as his phone hits the mattress, he’s gripping your hip and fucking into you like a wild beast, his thick cock fucking your walls to no end. You’re screaming mess nonstop, moans and cries of his name spilling from your pretty lips. “Fuck yeah, baby, scream my fucking name”
“Heeseung!” You cry even louder as he snakes his hand under your waist and starts rubbing your clit. “Oh fuck I’m coming. I’m coming, heeseung!” You shriek, your eyes rolling back as you shake violently on the bed, your pussy pulsating around him.
“Yeah, let go for me, cum all over this dick,” he hums. “Gonna pump you full of my cum, baby. Want that?”
“Yes,” you whimper breathlessly.
“Oh fuck I’m gonna give it to you” After one last thrust, he’s emptying his huge load in your hole. “Shit baby, I’m cumming, I’m cumming” he grunts, hips wildly bucking into you, riding out his high, drilling into your heat, and filling you up to the brim with his cum. “Shit baby,” he throws his head back, panting heavily.
“Hmm,” you moan in satisfaction, his hands running all over your body, helping you come back down from the earth-shattering orgasm. You sink into the mattress, and he lays on top of you, panting as he leaves stray kisses all over your cheek, lips, and shoulders.
You both lay like that for a while, regaining your strength and being able to move again.
Everything is silent save for the short breaths you both let out. “Shit baby, I want you again already,” he chuckles against your ear biting your lobe softly as he rolls his hips sensually, pushing his cum deeper in you.
“Hee,” you whine at the feeling of his cock inside you. “I wish we could, but my brothers gonna be home soon,” you whisper.
“Fuck I wish he would leave more often. Going weeks without feeling your pussy is torture,” he laughs and rests his cheek on yours, relishing in the aftermath before he gets ready to leave.
Just before he begins to part from your body, you both hear the front door shut. “Shit,” heeseung slowly pulls out of your hole, both of you hissing at the loss of contact as all his cum streams from your hole.
You popped up out of bed, searching for his clothes so he could get dressed and leave a thick trail of white dripping down your thighs. “I thought he said half an hour!” You whisper yelled
“Me too,” he says, hopping on one foot to put his shoes back on.
“You have to go now,” you tell him urgently and open your window.
“Really?!” He whispers, knowing the window isn’t exactly close to the ground.
“Yes, now hurry.” he walks past you and doesn’t miss the mess he made between your legs. “Fuck” he shakes his head in disbelief. He can’t believe he had to leave you like that. If he had it his way, he’d fill you up all night long, but sadly, your brother and his best friend had to ruin it. “Kiss me,” he quickly whispered, and you gave him a little peck on the lips.
He goes out the window doing his best not to make a lot of noise and trying to grab anything for some type of leverage so he wouldn’t slip and fall.
After he got about half way he let go dropping to the ground softly and scurrying to his car to wait inside for another half hour and pretend like he had just arrived.
With a sigh of relief, you went to the bathroom to shower before bed.
That was close, almost too close.
-
As close of a call as that was, that still wasn’t gonna stop you from seeing heeseung again.
You were quite literally addicted to him.
But he was having other thoughts.
“Are you coming over tonight my brother is out again” this time you’d called him instead of texting.
“Nah, last time was close enough, and to be honest, I don’t think we should push our luck. Let’s just call this off.”
“Call it off?” You’re a bit surprised by that you weren’t expecting that would be his response but you understood where he was coming from.
Not to say you liked it, though.
“Yeah it’s not worth it anymore id like to live and if your brother catches me balls deep inside his sister I doubt he’d let me live” he chuckles but you don’t really find it to be that funny especially how he said it wasn’t worth it anymore.
“Well… okay I guess I’ll see you next time you and my brother hangout” you mumble a bit disappointed but you understood it was risky and you can’t really blame him for calling it quits.
“You will, dollface. It was fun while it lasted,” you smile faintly.
“Yeah…. Bye,” he ended the call first, and you tossed your phone to the side, sighing. Who were you going to get sex from now?
That question would be answered within just a few hours. Apparently, not just heeseung was hanging out with Jake today, but his friend Jay as well. You knew him well. He hadn’t been around much lately, but you did have a good relationship with him.
And now that you think about it, he was attractive, nice, and a good friend.
You’re sure he’s probably good in bed, too.
“Hi, Jay!” You cheered as he entered, already putting your plan in motion.
“Hey y/n! It’s been a while.” he walks over to you, ready to give you a side hug, but you pull him in a full hug, pressing yourself against his body. “Did you miss me or something?” he laughs awkwardly, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you just as warmly.
“Yeah plus I didn’t know you’d be coming over” you pull away from the hug hands still resting on his shoulders.
“Yeah, it was heeseung’s idea.” you both looked at heeseung, and he was just standing there already, staring at the two of you and your hands on Jay's shoulders.
“Good idea, heeseung. It’s nice seeing you after so long, Jay,” you smile, taking a seat.
“You too, y/n.” he offers you a warm smile, greeting everyone else as he takes off his jacket and shoes.
“Well, we were gonna play games, but since y/n seems excited to hang out with us, how about a movie instead so she can join us?” Jake suggested that since you weren’t into video games that much,
“Sounds good to me,” Jay agrees.
“No, id rath-“Heeseung got shut down immediately by Jake.
“Three against one, you lose; besides, we game all the time anyways,” Jake concluded and sat on the couch searching for a movie.
Once the movie was picked, you all went to the kitchen to prepare snacks and drinks for the movie night once you got all settled in, you took a seat on the couch when heeseung saw where you were sitting, he moved over to you, but since the conversation you both had last time you didn’t want to sit next to him you couldn’t be that close to him not when you were literally thirsting for him how could someone look so good in a baggy shirt and pants you had no idea, but your panties definitely did as they were already damp just feeling him so close was doing things to you.
The fact you couldn’t act on those things was torture.
So you got up and sat next to Jay, who was on the bigger couch, leaving heeseung to sit all alone. He watched you sitting next to Jay, laughing together at some scene in the movie that he couldn’t even pay attention to cause he was too upset seeing you both that close together.
Since when did you have so much fun with Jay?
Heeseung was unknowingly sulking each time you laughed or pushed Jay on the shoulder even the way you both ate out of the same bowl made him feel weird.
He folded his arms across his chest, jaw tightly clenched. After he saw you both feeding popcorn to each other, he had to stop watching you two before he lost it. “You got any alcohol?” He asked Jake cause he’d definitely need something to numb whatever dumb aching feeling that was in his chest.
“Top cabinet.” he nodded and stood up.
“The popcorn needs a refill,” you announced and went to the kitchen a few moments after heeseung.
“Woah, slow down,” you said and giggled when you saw him downing a bottle of liquor.
“I should say the same to you.” he chuckled and threw his head back, taking another shot.
“Come again? I’m not the one drowning in booze,” you laugh, opening another bag of popcorn.
“Yeah, 'cause you wanna drown in something else,” he mumbles to himself.
“What?”
“You heard me. I saw you all over, Jay. Wouldn’t it be better to fuck someone that isn’t friends with your brother?” He laughs while shaking his head.
“Ehh, I was with you, and it didn’t bother me,” you shrug. “Besides, I need to get it from somewhere,” you add in a joking manner, but he doesn’t take it that way.
“Not surprised”
“Excuse me?!” You say, feeling slightly offended you had no idea where this was coming from.
“Don’t act shocked. How the fuck do think that’s supposed to make me feel? When you’re all fucking over him after we just- just fuck it, whatever, I don’t care.”
“Heeseung, you’re drunk,” you replied, brushing his nonsense off.
“And you’re nothing but a fucking slut that can’t go one minute without a dick stuffed inside you before you go fucking running off to someone else” he raises his voice slightly, feeling his agitation grow.
“Shush!” You whisper. “What is it to you? You said it wasn’t worth it anymore. What do you think? I’m just gonna stop having sex because we’re not doing it anymore?” You say, confused.
“Cause I didn’t want to fucking get caught. I didn’t know you’d go out searching the very next day. We broke it off,” he sighs.
“What am I supposed to do? You’re obviously not an option anymore,” you say, getting defensive.
“I don’t know, maybe try a little harder to make something work between us,” he lowers his voice, picking at the label on the liquor bottle.
“Something like what? this was just casual sex”
“Casual?” He laughs softly.
“Yes, that’s what we agreed on,” you remind him.
“So all this time we’ve been screwing, you still just feel it's casual?”
“Yes, and so do you, 'cause you even said I wasn’t worth it,” you replied.
“Well, I fucking take it back, okay, I like you. It was never casual for me, and it’s only been a few days, but I fucking miss you already, and to see how quickly you moved on makes me upset, especially cause it’s right in front of me.”
“So why did you say it?” You ask.
“Cause I didn’t want to get hurt. I knew we couldn’t be public, and I thought maybe just ending things would lighten the blow, but it made it worse cause to see you all over Jay made me feel like shit hence why,” he holds up the bottle of liquor.
“Hee, I feel the same way, too, but when you said it wasn’t worth it anymore, I didn’t think you really cared about us that much, and Jay, I don’t even know. I think I was just trying to take my mind off of you, but I want you and you only.”
“Yeah?” He stands up walking over to you and resting his hands on your hips. “You really mean that?” He cups your cheeks his left hand caressing your face gently.
“Yes, I’m sorry I didn’t say something sooner,” you breathe out, getting lost in his eyes.
“Me too, but I understand, sweetheart. It was complicated, and I’m sorry for what I said earlier and for raising my voice and for cursing,” he rambles, and you laugh softly, wrapping your arms around him.
“I know I forgive you, hee.” You kissed the tip of his nose.
“Thank you, baby,” he smiles, pulling you into his arms. “I know it’s still complicated, but I’m gonna try my best to navigate through this with you. I don’t know what telling Jake will mean for us, but I think we should.”
“I’m scared,” you mumbled into his chest, fearing the disappointment your brother might feel if he found out about you and heeseung.
“Me too,” he chuckled. “But I know no matter the outcome, I want to be with you always.”
Leaning back, you looked up at him. “You mean that?”
“I do.” he smiles down at you, kissing your forehead and swaying you in his arms.
Only time would tell what the outcome would be of telling your brother you’ve been seeing his best friend, but you found comfort in knowing that heeseung would be there for you always.
-
Link to all my other works
#heeseung smut#enhypen heeseung smut#enhypen lee heeseung#enhypen fluff#enhypen hyung line#enhypen hard hours#enhypen smut#enhypen fanfic#enhypen heeseung#enhypen scenarios#enhypen#lee heesung smut#heeseung angst#lee heeseung smut#heeseung x reader#heeseung fluff#lee heeseung#heeseung#lee heesung x reader
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ex-things - m.yg.
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genre: angst (after breakup!) (4.8k)
summary: over the years, everything you've owned has belonged to yoongi and everything yoongi's owned has belonged to you but when you break up, everything is your's and everything is his but none of it belongs to the two of you anymore and both of you can't stand it.
masterlist
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“scarf,” you say as soon as yoongi appears at the door, you fail to hide your smile when he throws his head back in exasperation and throws the door open.
you push past him and enter his apartment which looked…exactly the same.
but then again, you did just break up some ten minutes ago so, of course, it would be the same.
you don’t know why you expected the universe to shift just because your heart was broken.
and as you throw back the cushions on his sofa, push the things on his coffee table, look under the sofa and table, and walk past him to check the coat rack and then the kitchen, you feel his piercing gaze following your every step.
you knew where it was.
it was in your bedroom.
or well, his bedroom now.
“can you hurry the fuck up?” he groans and in that second, you eye the black plastic cover filled with two or three soju bottles sitting on his kitchen counter.
you swallow and yell back, “can you just let me look for my scarf in peace?”
another groan.
a stomp on the floor.
“fuck, i’ll mail it to you,” yoongi makes his way into the kitchen with loud steps and you arch your eyebrow at him, then look towards the green bottles shining on his counter, he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and spits out, “i was going to drink today before anything ever happened, don’t feel too special.”
“really?” you muse, clinking them against each other, and in the next second, yoongi’s hand is wrapped around your wrist and he’s pulling you, gently, towards the door.
“i’ll send it when i find it,” he murmurs as he pushes your coat, your car keys, and your phone into your hands, and you don’t say anything for a while.
you clutch your belongings and stand by the door until you notice how yoongi's eyes are bloodshot, their usual sharpness dulled by exhaustion. his shoulders rounded with an invisible weight, and you feel guilty for leaving.
“a-are you okay?” you ask, it feels stupid to ask because you know, you were the same as him.
he laughs bitterly and throws you a glare, you notice how his hands tremble beside his body, and you look away to save him and yourself from the pain of asking again.
“i just broke up with my girlfriend of three years, so yeah, i’m doing fantastic,” he breathes out, you wonder if it pains him like it’s paining you to hear his words, “now, can you leave?” yoongi gestures towards the door again.
you sigh, “wait a minute,” and enter your his home again.
“what now?” he throws his hands in the air and stomps after you.
he watches you grab the scarf from under his bed, he turns his eyes away when he sees your hands shaking while holding it, “did you know where it was?” yoongi breathes out, his face and voice in disbelief.
you don’t say anything again.
and when you leave, he pours himself glass over glass to forget the trembling of your jaw and how you paced around the apartment while knowing exactly where you kept the scarf.
he laughs again, the sound is strange, rough, and just wrong without your laugh chiming with him.
he pours himself a glass again.
-
it’s been a week.
“hi,” you say as yoongi walks into his house, he jumps a little, clutching his chest as his eyes widen to look for you.
you raise a hand to wiggle your fingers at him as a ‘hello, hi, ex-boyfriend, you’re back at your home and so am i!’ and yoongi blinks.
“what the fuck are you doing here?”
“oh, i was loo-“
“wait wait, how did you even get in?” yoongi frantically marched to his front door and twisted the knob to check for any damages and you roll your eyes.
“i found your key under the potted plant. speaking of which, do you want to get robbed or something, why would you even put it there?” you throw your hands in the air as you sip tea, grimacing as the strange, bitter taste of yoongi’s favorite green tea spreads in your mouth.
“first of all, stop drinking my tea, you don’t even like it” you put the cup down with a sheepish smile and fold your hands on the table.
“and second of all, i didn’t think i had to worry about any ex-girlfriends breaking in, my bad,” yoongi complains loudly and you press your palms to your ears, shaking your head, “i’m not even here to see you, i’m here for…well, i’m here for,” you struggle to finish the sentence.
and yoongi glares at you.
“what is it?” as he moves his head to pin his glare on you, his soft, freshly straightened hair moves with him.
“straightener!” you say loudly, clapping your hands, and yoongi’s eyebrows narrow again, “you’re going to get wrinkles, yoongi.” you point at his eyebrows but he doesn’t let up, you’re sure that his eyebrows furrowed deeper.
“okay! i’ll be on my way once i get that,” you wander off into his bedroom and yoongi throws his head back in exasperation.
your straightener is easy to find because well, it’s not yours, it’s his and it’s just sitting on his vanity but yoongi doesn’t bat an eye at that.
he only watches you move around his home with his arms crossed on his chest and an unreadable satisfaction on his face.
and when you leave, you can’t help but notice that for all his annoyance, he never tells you to not come back, and he never tells you to find everything you own and leave at once.
with that knowledge, you leave his home with the biggest grin on your face.
-
“you need to get out before my booty call gets here,” you happily eat your ice cream on the kitchen counter as yoongi walks into your home as if he owned it.
did you mention that he was the one to bring you ice cream?
your favorite too, one scoop of hazelnut and one scoop of brownie.
“ha ha, very funny, you should start thinking of a career in stand-up” he responds with a roll of his eyes and you giggle even more, sliding down to catch up with his pace around your home.
“what are you here for?”
“t-shirt, you know the one you stole,” yoongi shrugs and glares again, walking right into your room and you follow with hands closed behind your back, “which one?” you muse as you remember all the (10) t-shirts you’ve stolen from him.
he looks back as he nears the closet, eyes narrowing at you, “how many do you have?”
“how many can you remember that i have?”
yoongi groaned in sheer frustration and you crawled on your bed, watching him pick apart your closet, and glaring at you whenever he found one of his t-shirts in there.
for a moment, it was amusing.
it was the funniest thing to watch yoongi get annoyed, you always enjoyed it.
but in the next moment, when he was around his fifth t-shirt, you felt this ache slowly develop in your chest and spread across your throat and then your mouth, then it was everywhere.
it was this dull throbbing that you couldn’t shake and your eyes dropped to fiddle with your fingers instead of looking at him, collecting his belongings from your home.
because, just two weeks ago, it had been your t-shirts too, hadn’t they? and it wasn’t just your home then, it was yours and his, wasn’t it? sure, you had separate apartments but it never felt like that, it felt like you had two homes and both homes belonged to both of you.
and now, you only had one.
you had wrapped your arms around his back when he was in your room two weeks ago, he was here now but you couldn’t even touch a hair on his head without feeling like you’ve crossed a line.
your head was starting to collect the ache and make a home for it so you ask, “are you almost done?”
you didn’t mean to ask him that, you actually very, very badly wanted yoongi never to leave so you could believe again, ‘i have two homes, i have two toothbrushes, two mugs, two keys, two doors, and two of everything’ but yoongi pauses, he collects the t-shirts he found and nods, “yeah, i’m done.”
when he walks out of your room, the ache finally takes over your head and you follow him with dazed eyes and stumbling feet.
at the door, yoongi stops, he turns around with concern brimming in his eyes and that is enough for your hands to shake again, “you good?”
“i just broke up with my boyfriend of three years, so yeah, i’m doing fantastic,” you deepen your voice to mimic his and yoongi shakes his head with a small laugh, “you better be okay,” he says at the end, and his voice is so soft, it feels like cotton pressed into your cheeks.
and you nod because if yoongi says you have to be okay, you’ll find a way to be okay.
but when he leaves, you are back to having just one home, with one toothbrush in the bathroom, one mug in the kitchen, one set of keys in your purse, one door, and one of everything else.
and you’re sorry to yoongi.
because you don’t know if you can be okay.
-
a couple days passed again.
you had an angry yoongi pacing in front of you as you watched.
“you’re being ridiculous,” yoongi shoves a hand through his hair, glaring at you as you sit with arms across your chest and refusing to look at him.
“i’m not,” you huff out and he rolls his eyes.
he did that a lot.
he did that a lot with you.
“i didn’t steal your plushie, are you fucking kidding me?” yoongi whines and walks away into the kitchen to pour himself a drink.
you follow him and right at the doorway, you don’t enter, you just watch his even more sunken eyes and even more rounded shoulders with conflicted eyes.
a part of you wanted to hug him.
a part of you wouldn’t mind killing him.
a part of you wanted to kiss his shoulders to lift them.
a part of you wanted to leave a red mark on his face.
but all parts of you, you couldn’t trust or believe.
these past few days, you couldn’t trust or believe anything actually.
yoongi senses your eyes on him, he knows how you look at him and how you seem to show so much with just a gaze but he holds strong.
you were broken up.
you shouldn’t be here.
hell, he’s not sure if he should be here or not either.
but he betrays himself over and over again, he lets you into his house and you let him into yours, and he feels ridiculous every time he closes your door, he’s not sure what you feel when you close his.
“i threw it away,” he shrugs his shoulders, eye muscles tensing oddly, he’s not sure if you notice or not.
“what?” your whisper is so quiet, yoongi wouldn’t have known you were speaking if he didn’t see your lips moving.
“i threw it, okay? there was no use of it being around here anymore, so i fucking threw it away,” he didn’t mean for his voice to be loud, and he didn’t mean for his words to hurt but maybe he did, maybe he wanted to hurt you.
but he loves you?
but he’s also okay with hurting you.
to an extent.
yoongi had never understood why he couldn’t love properly, why his love for others and himself had to hold a touch of pain, a touch of misery, but it was always out of his control.
it had been different with you.
for a while, that is.
but he was back to his roots now, pain and misery and love and affection held his hands and danced around him.
and he had to dance with them too.
“i threw it,” he repeated, but your plushie was tucked into his pillows, into his sleep, and into his days and nights.
it was stained with salty tears now, it was stained with the ice cream he ate after he left your home, and he didn’t want you to see it.
for a moment, you both didn’t even twitch in the wrong direction, yoongi watched the dark liquid in his cup with growing intensity and you waited for him to tell you that your plushie was safe.
“fine,” you sniffled, grabbing your coat and stomping to the door and yoongi followed, he tried not to but his feet walked ahead of his mind.
at the door, you angrily shoved your feet into your sneakers and pushed your hair out of your face, as if to prove that you weren’t crying, that you weren’t affected and anyone else would believe you.
but yoongi knows you.
and he knows your red nose and cheeks can only mean one thing.
before you close his door, you say, “you’re a horrible person, yoongi.”
he thinks he knows what you feel when you close his door now.
hatred.
-
you swore to yourself that that would be the last time you turn up at his place, but you had genuinely forgotten something there and needed it this time, so you swallowed your pride and rang his doorbell.
you don’t greet him when he opens the door and yoongi feels like he could fall to his knees when you shove a bag with his favorite ice cream, matcha, and coffee (he’s a caffeine guy, he runs on it), into his hands and yoongi knows he’s forgiven.
“i forgot my trousers here,” you mumble afterward and head straight into his closet to dig through for the work trousers that you cannot live without.
yoongi doesn’t dare to utter a word, he looks through his closet beside you and apologizes when his skin touches yours in any little way.
you can’t believe there was a time when you would touch him as if his body was yours too and he would touch you the same. but his apologies just dug the truth deeper into your skin, which was that you didn’t belong to him, and he didn’t belong to you.
so, you nod, you bear your cheeks heating up and thighs going weak, and just look through his neatly organized piles of clothes too.
he used to organize your stuff too, he used to section them, fold them, and keep them neatly by his clothes.
that’s how you find your trousers, crisp folds, and fresh-smelling, right beside his work clothes.
and your heart squeezes as you pull it out.
the folds loosen, the trousers limp in your hands, and that small change in its structure, makes you think of yoongi and everything that fell apart with him.
when you leave that day, you pause at the door and whisper, “you’re not horrible, yoongi, but maybe i am, maybe i ruined everything, but please don’t hate me.”
before he can catch you and wipe your tears and tell you that you were right last time, he was the horrible one, he was the one who texted late, who came home late, who missed birthdays, but you were already running away and he was left with a lit cigarette burning his throat.
-
“i swear, it was here,” yoongi shifts the things around your closet, head buried deep in shelves and racks of clothes and shoes, you stand at the doorway with your arms crossed against your chest, trying not to roll your eyes.
“and you have a million other headphones, so i don’t understand why you would need to find this one,” you step into the room and lazily move things around to try and find it too, yoongi scoffs from a few feet away, “it was special to me,” he says and turns his back to you again.
“why?”
“my grandfather gave it to me,” yoongi huffs, and his hands stay busy.
but.
“your grandfather died when you were five,” there was no way his grandpa gave it to him and you know you’ve caught him.
he could’ve at least tried harder with his lies.
it was strange, seeing him here, standing in your bedroom, surrounded by things that no longer belonged to both of you.
you don’t think you’ll ever get over that feeling of loss.
the moisturizer you would’ve shared with him.
the cheap wig that he would wear to make you laugh.
the razor that you would hide to annoy him.
they only belonged to you now.
though you don’t bring up his grandfather to drive him away, you only say it because it was hard for you to understand why he was here, looking for headphones that he could buy tens of pairs of.
he pauses, you wait for him to say something else, or lie about a friend who didn’t exist who gave it to him, lie about his dad giving it to him.
but yoongi doesn’t say anything.
he keeps looking.
you refused to keep anything that touched you in the last three years.
well, except for some things.
“yoongi,” you call out, pointing towards the unopened box in your closet and he turns his head that way, quickly walking over to it and flipping it upside down.
the photo album that carried your first anniversary.
the promise ring that he gave you on your second anniversary.
the matching couple t-shirt which he cringed at but wore whenever he could.
the.
the.
the.
so many the’s and so many first’s and second’s of things that you kept, though ‘kept’ was the wrong word, you treasured these things, you loved them.
and all of them fell on the floor with noise that shook your ears and chest, not because of the volume but because it was like you were pouring your heart in front of him.
but you loved them in the past, you liked to think that you did and you were in the present now, watching yoongi eye the things you gathered without his knowledge.
and all of it was only yours now.
“when did you keep this here?” he asks, and you immediately know he’s asking about the simple diamond ring that everyone thought was your engagement ring.
but it was just a promise ring.
and you removed it when, “that day you didn’t come for my birthday,” you mumbled, picking up the things and putting them back where they belonged.
buried inside a box.
shoved into a closet.
but before, you pull out his headphones from the box and hang it over your head for him to take.
when he takes it, his fingers touch the smallest part of your palm and your eyes gather tears as if rivers were breaking a dam in them.
yoongi stands without saying a word for a long time but then he walks to the door, “you’re not going to close your door?”
you’re not coming to see me off?
you get up unwillingly and walk to the door without sneaking another glance at him and drop the ring into his palm, “bye, yoongi.”
his hands tighten around the band of platinum.
both of you look at the dangly, worn-out wires of his headphones that hang from his other hand.
you had given them to him for your first anniversary.
not his dead grandpa or dad or friend.
it was you.
and both of you refused to acknowledge that fact.
and when yoongi finally leaves, he leaves behind a space in the air that waits for him to come back and take his place again, in your life, in your home, in your space.
but he doesn’t turn back.
and you close the door, letting the space remain.
-
a few days went by again.
neither of you showed up at each other’s doors anymore.
neither of you had anything left to collect.
neither of you had anything that belonged to the other.
and it was strange, the quiet, the loneliness that crept on your back and it always hit at the most unexpected of times.
when you poured your cereal in the morning, you realized you were holding the box that you had bought while grocery shopping with yoongi, it was your favorite time of the month, the one time you could really feel that he was your person.
but the box was empty by the end of your breakfast and you kept it back in the cabinet.
when you arranged your clothes, you saw your messy folding and fell back on the pile of clothes that still needed folding.
how yoongi did this every day, you had no clue.
but as you lay in pieces of cotton, linens, satins, sequins, and many more materials that hugged and pinched you, you couldn’t help but think that surely, yoongi wouldn’t leave you like this, there has to be something of his that you still own.
there has to be something.
so, you got up and with renewed desperate energy, you started searching.
you pulled upon every desk, every closet door, every nook and cranny, you searched with shaking hands and watery eyes.
“there has to be something, there has to be,” you whispered to yourself, your voice choking as things fall over from the tall walls, they fall on your feet, and your toes, and a sharp pain hits you every single time, but you push through.
because.
there has to be something.
you can’t end it like this.
you and yoongi cannot end like this.
anyone else can.
but not you, not him and you.
and the closets you look through stay ajar, the desks you’ve emptied stay tipped over, and everything you own is on the floor.
but there is none of yoongi in any of it.
so, you sink.
you sink to your knees, sobbing and flipping over items as you reach them.
because goddamit, there has to be something.
when the bell first rings, you don’t register it, you are way too intent on the clutter in front of you.
but then it rings.
and rings.
and rings, again and again.
relentless.
and you push yourself up, hoping it’s no one you know because you don’t think you can explain the tears on your face.
but when you open the door, your mouth goes dry and you know you don’t have to explain anything.
because across from you, is a red-eyed yoongi and he’s carrying a box.
“can i come in?” is all he asks, his voice barely a whisper and you’re already opening the door and pulling him in.
but once he’s in your home, in your space again, the familiar soft and sharp scent of him, the sight of him, it was too much. you couldn’t breathe. your eyes never leave him, every breath he took, every shift of his fingers, every fall of his chest, all of it was dancing in your eyes and for the love of god, you couldn’t look away.
he sets the box down and stands there with his hands opening and closing around nothing, and you want to grab them, you want to spread them across your cheeks and feel his warmth, which was sometimes cold too but you didn’t mind, you never minded with yoongi.
but instead, you curl your hands behind your back and stop yourself because it still wasn’t right.
“i don’t have anything of yours,” you start, voice already breaking, “anymore,” you finish with hands tightening so hard around each other that you could feel the bruises blooming on their surface.
“i know,” he takes a sharp inhale of breath and looks away from you and you want to beg him to look at you.
for a second, it’s just you reliving every second you weren’t with him and it’s him looking at your apartment that was void of anything personal, anything that called it a home.
“i want all of it back,” he sniffs, looking at you finally, you want to take it back, you aren’t sure how you survived three years of his eyes only on you and you squeeze your door handle, “all of what?” you whisper, and he sniffs again, “your stuff, all of it, your stupid scarf, your straightener, everything, i want all of it back, in my place, in our place, where it belongs.” he says it so quietly, so earnestly and each word has you pulling your skin tighter.
“your plushie is in this, i never threw it away but i’m taking it back, my t-shirts and headphones are in this, i’m leaving them here,” he bends over the box and starts picking things apart, and each thing he pulls out, fills you with relief.
but.
“but that isn’t right, yoongi,” you try to defend, “we aren’t together anymore,” you hate the words as they surface out of you and yoongi shakes his head.
“but is this right?” he lifts his hands from the box, his jaw trembling again and you instinctively smooth your hand over it and yoongi pushes his face into your hands.
“is it right, both of us miserable?” he whispers and the world bottoms out from underneath you, suddenly gravity is nothing and you’re both floating towards each other.
“but i hurt you,” you grip his headphones and this time, his tears fall the same as yours do, “i hurt you too.” he places a hand on your knees and that cold warmth, that bare touch leaves you open.
“but i’m done, i don’t want to hurt you anymore,” yoongi begs, he shakes his head as he says it as if he can’t believe there was a time that he had hurt you but you’re the same, you can’t believe that you hurt him once.
“before you came here, i was looking for something, anything that was yours so i could come back,” you sniffed loudly, your voice falling and lifting and yoongi listens with eyes that have always looked at you, “but i didn’t find anything, yoongi and it killed me.” your voice fully gives up as you bury your face into your hands and immediately, you feel his arms pulling you into his chest and his hands running down your hair.
“you don’t have to do that anymore, i’m back see,” he tips your face towards him and his smile is so soft, so real that it makes you smile too, “i’m not going anywhere.” he assures you with a kiss on the top of your head and your watery eyes dry out.
“me too, i don’t want this anymore, i want us, i want two of everything, i want you and i want everything,” you utter back to him, the weight of the words floating between you too.
“and you have it, you have everything again, the ring is in there too but that is for whenever you’re ready.” he kisses you again and you snuggle into his embrace, feeling like you’ve lost centuries of holding him, the thought of the ring swells your chest into a balloon that could snap, “that will take time, but thank you,” you whisper, kissing where his shoulders met his neck.
“like i said, whenever you’re ready but it will always belong to you.” yoongi whispers back and you smile in pure delight, nodding along to his words.
“we were stupid for thinking that we could stay apart,” you laugh hesitantly into his chest, the idea of the two of you trying to be separate was ridiculous to you and yoongi laughs with you, which makes you melt into his body, because it was ridiculous, you were two parts of a whole, two houses in a home, two mugs in a kitchen, two keys in your purse, two toothbrushes in one bathroom and two of everything else that you could think of.
and that was how it should’ve been, that was how it was always meant to be.
somewhere in the night, yoongi crawls up your sheets and your plushie is between the two of you and you make fun of him for acting as if he threw it away, he rolls his eyes and shushes you with a kiss.
“by the way, that straightener is yours, not mine,” you whisper and he is aghast, “i fucking knew it,” he yells and sits up, and immediately starts to complain “you know how stupid i’ve been looking with hair that looks just like holly’s!”
and you remind him, playfully this time, that what was yours was his, and what was his was yours and he falls on the bed, grumbling under his breath and complaining until the sun comes up.
and it feels right, everything that belonged to you and him back in their place, back in their homes and yoongi, back in your life, your home, and your space.
just as it should be, just as it was meant to be.
#bts#bts imagines#bts fluff#bts angst#bts scenarios#namfinessed#bts smut#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#jeon jungkook#min yoongi fluff#yoongi fic recs#yoongi fluff#yoongi angst#yoongi x reader#yoongi smut#yoongi fic#bts yoongi#min yoongi#yoongi fanfic#min yoongi x reader#yoongi#bts fics#bts imagine#bts masterlist#bts series#bts au
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Hi Jade ! I loove your sunshine!readers, could I request one for Carmy ? Maybe someone calls her to get to the restaurant when hes feeling anxious to calm him down idk if thats good lol love ya !
ty for requesting <3 fem, 1.4k
Is it The Beef or The Bear? In your head, despite the wishes of everyone who works there (except for Ebra, who seems to have mixed opinions), you always call it The Beef. But the sign brags otherwise, and when you push open the doors, nothing inside is left to remind you of the old restaurant. It was a total gut.
“Hi, gorgeous,” says a familiar, warm voice.
You almost walk straight into her table, distracted looking for brown curls through the kitchen door’s little window. “Hey, Tina.” You grin at your second favourite chef. Your most favourite Sous. “You taking a break?”
She offers you a round butter cookie from a sleeve of them. Her cup of coffee billows with steam. “Uh-huh.”
“Hiding from a meltdown?” you ask, taking a cookie, fingers oily with butter, sugar grains falling to the floor.
“It’s not like that,” she says.
Well, what is it like? you think.
Richie’s text wasn’t exactly descriptive. Need ur help with the little Bitch, he’d said. Then, when you didn’t answer, ASAP!!!!
You figured it must’ve been another rant. He’s prone to these… episodes of anger where he doesn’t realise he’s spinning out and hurting people who really care about him. You try to bring him out of it, but he’s a Berzatto. They’re all the same, sort of. Everything that’s wrong with them has been stamped into them a long, long time ago.
He’s been better since Nat steel armed him into AA, but still. You tilt your head to one side, sugar cookie between your fingers, listening for the goings on in the kitchen. “Sydney’s here?” you ask. “I thought she was sick.”
“Sydney gets sick, but she doesn’t take sick days,” Tina says with a loving shrug.
You smile at her in brief goodbye for now and make your way to the kitchen, where you push in quietly. All their ‘Behind!’ and ‘Corner!’ and ‘Hands!’ makes you laugh, and you can’t take it seriously so you don’t, but you’re not trying to be dangerous in there either.
“Hello?” you ask.
Sydney and Richie look up from a cramped notebook at the table nearest to the door. There are employees you're unsure of prepping vegetables along the wall, but Carmy isn’t anywhere to be seen.
“Fucking finally,” Richie says, before rubbing his face regretfully. “I’m sorry, it’s just– I texted you an hour ago, babe, you’re letting me down.”
You laugh. “Sorry, babe,” you tease. “I have a job, just like you.” Your hands are cold where you tuck them under each armpit, crossing your arms. “Hi, Sydney. You feeling okay?”
“No. He’s stressing me out.”
“Which one?”
“Both of them.” She looks like she might rub her face too. “I need him to be in here right now, he should be doing this, but he keeps walking away and– and not saying where he’s going.”
“He is stressful,” you agree, though usually Carmy’s stress tends to bounce right off of you, “I’m gonna find him and strap him down for you.”
Sydney just frowns.
“I’ll see what’s up,” you say more seriously. “In the office?”
“Out the back,” Richie says. “Smoking like his mother. He’s a fucking steam train lately.”
It’s like they want to worry you. You give them grateful nods, sorry nods, and start to make your way out of the main kitchen, past the dishwashers and the dessert station to one of the back doors. Carmy isn’t your responsibility. You don’t have to apologise for him, you don’t have to mother him, he should commit to his responsibilities all on his own, but… it’s hard. You like apologising for him because his behaviour isn’t always on purpose, and he struggles with commitment for similar reasons. There’s this aching, stagnated grief in him that’s reawakening, there’s the stress of the restaurant, his business, the scars of the last ten years, and before that. You know it isn’t your job to come here and make him feel better, but isn’t it? When you love someone, it’s half the deal.
Carmy shouldn’t yell at his friends, or employees. He shouldn’t chain smoke, and he shouldn’t be sitting on the low wall by the dumpsters shaking so hard with his head so low that you can see the first notch of his spine in his shirt.
“Carmy?” you ask.
His head ducks further down. You can hear him breathing, not too hard as to alarm you, and yet unrelaxed.
You smile without thinking. You hate seeing him like this, but looking after him is a pleasure. “Hey, Carmen. Can I sit with you?”
He forces his face up. “What are you doing here?” he asks.
Trying to make sure he doesn’t tear another chunk out of Richie. “It’s my lunch break.”
You perch on the wall beside him and snap your nearly forgotten cookie into two pieces, one side bigger than the other, which you offer him.
Carmy takes it. Looks at it without expression, though that slowly turns to a dry ire you’ve felt directed your way a hundred times. “What the fuck is this?”
“Cookie.”
“I don’t want this.”
“Could you just eat it?” You put your own half in your mouth in its entirety, all aligned to your teeth. It shatters into sweet, soft crumbs between your teeth. You talk with a hand over your mouth, “It’s not gonna kill you.”
Carmy looks at it for a long time before he eats it.
You watch him. He’s more tan than you’d think, that Italian gene kicking in, skin clinging to whatever sunshine it finds. He spends enough time inside that you’re surprised it can muster the energy. He looks better with it though, his curls look gold toned under the sun, and his clenched jaw doesn’t seem so harsh.
“What’s wrong?” you ask eventually. Almost conversationally.
“Nothing.” His hand shakes on his thigh. He turns his palm down to clasp his knee.
“You sure?”
“No.”
“That one’s my favourite.”
“What?”
You poke toward a tattoo on his hand. It’s a simple flower, same style as most of his tattoos. “I like it ‘cos it’s just a flower.”
“My least pretentious,” he guesses.
“Something like that.”
He tips his head back.
“Richie texted me. He thinks I’m gonna… like, I’m gonna calm you down, I guess.”
“You always do,” he says.
You give him a long, smiley look. “So you’re in love with me?” you ask warmly, pushing up into a knee to wrap your arm behind him, hugging him before he can move away. “You’re totally fucked for me, Berzatto, that’s fucking crazy.”
“Fuck off,” he laughs.
You rub his arm, his skin hot in your hold. He touches your waist very, very lightly. “What am I supposed to do, anyway? I can’t cook. You and Syd are on your own.”
“You already… already did enough.” He grabs your waist where you wobble on the brick wall, grit biting your knees, his hand comparatively soft.
“Such a crush on me,” you tease in a whisper, his hair crushed under your cheek.
You’re tempted to kiss his temple, but affection with Carmy is like oil and water sometimes. You give him a last protective squeeze and sit yourself down again.
“Carm,” you say, “you know you can call me, right? Like, if you don’t feel okay.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I know.”
“Or text me. If that’s easier. It’s hard to say hard things out loud.”
He laughs again. “Sorry.”
“I know, I don’t– I don’t seem like I know what you’re talking about, I get it, but I do understand. N’ even if I didn’t, I don’t mind listening. Or laughing at you.”
“What’s that about?”
“The laughing?” you ask. “You tell me.”
His hand slides behind your back in half a hug. “Guess it’s funny.”
“Can I change my mind about the tattoo?”
“The flowers not your favourite?”
“No. You know which one I like best?”
His thumb rubs into your back. “The snail.”
“Absolutely the snail. You’re so fucking silly sometimes, I’m supposed to take you seriously when you’re yelling and red in the face with a snail on your arm?”
You can’t see his face with your cheek to his shoulder, won’t know that he’s smiling at you with a rare aura of peace. Can’t see the wanting, either.
#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x you#carmy berzatto x y/n#carmy berzatto#carmy berzatto fic#carmy berzatto blurb#carmy berzatto drabble#carmy berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto fanfic#carmy berzatto fanfiction#carmy x reader#carmy#carmy x you#carmy blurb#carmy drabble#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto x y/n#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto fic#carmen berzatto blurb#carmen berzatto drabble#carmen berzatto imagine#carmen berzatto fanfic#carmen berzatto fanfiction#the bear#the bear fanfiction#the bear fic
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❦︎ And You Look Half Dead Half The Time (nsfw)
(pt. 1) (pt. 2)
| Kang No-eul / Guard 011 x fem!reader |
side! | Se-mi / Played 380 x fem!reader |
Summary: For six years, you've watched your best friend and only companion mourn a child she barely got to know. Now, you're given a chance that might finally rid her of this lifelong guilt.
Word Count: 6.2k
Warnings: death, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, smut, making-out, fingering + cunnilingus (r! receiving), bathroom sex, one use of Y/N even though I tried my best to avoid it lol, extreme jealousy/possessiveness, no-eul is not playing about her girl in this one LOL
A/N: finally reached the romance stuff in this one but there's still some build-up of course, hope you all enjoy and as always, i appreciate any type of feedback or comments, they make the writing worth it!! :D this is so self indulgent omg
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—
When the platform begins to spin, you feel a firm grip on your hand, looking up to find Se-mi already staring at you with a calm expression on her face.
“Stick with me.”
You nod, and before you’re able to check on Min-su, you’re nearly thrown off your feet by the sudden stop of the surface you’re on.
“10 players.”
The boom of the announcer clears your senses, and as Thanos and Nam-gyu laugh and spin, you see another group of five waving their hands for more people. You shout at the loudest volume you’ve used since arriving here for them to come over, and with a tight grip on Se-mi’s hand, you drag her to the open room right across the arena. Thanos, Nam-gyu, and Min-su (who you can now see was hiding behind Se-mi) follow right along, and, thank goodness, the other team of 5 do the same.
“Are you okay?” You don’t respond to Se-mi's question because the answer should be obvious with the way you’re trembling, but she only nods in understanding. “Just stay calm, it’ll be fine.” You want to believe her, you truly do, but you see Min-su’s fear, and in that moment, you accept that this may be the game that kills you.
The lock clicks open.
Your group of ten steps out, stepping over the blood of those who lost the last round.
You want to retch, but you stay focused and get back on the platform.
With your hand in Se-mi’s, you block out the happy singing of Thanos and Nam-gyu, opting instead to pat Min-su’s back when you see him basically shaking like a leaf. He jumps, but turns to you with a grateful look in his eye. You pray that he lives, because someone like him should not die in a cold place like this.
“4 players.”
Your heart drops. Thanos glances back and forth between the three of you as Nam-gyu stands at his side. Your heart feels heavy in your chest, and your legs are stiff, ready to run. His eyes stop on Min-su, and you know what’s about to happen.
“You-”
“I’ll go.”
Se-mi barely has a chance to react before you rip your hand from hers and run to find another group. Somewhere in the bustle of the crowd, you swear you hear her call your name, but you’re too locked onto three men in the distance. They’re already in the room, but they’re calling for a fourth person. Fear threatens to strangle you as you run over, the countdown playing loud in the overhead speaker. Their eyes are desperate, arms open to beckon you over to save both your life and theirs.
At the last second, you basically ram into one of the men as you barrel into the room, one of them slamming it shut behind you not even a second before the lock clicks. No one speaks as shots ring out from outside the room, and you begin to come to terms with your act of sacrifice for someone you had just met yesterday.
Fuck, what were you thinking? Are you in this to win or not?
The lock clicks open, and you all step outside. There’s even more fresh blood on the ground, blood that you ignore as your eyes search the arena for your old group.
“Y/N!”
You spin fast enough to snap your neck at the sound of her voice, and Se-mi runs over to you followed by the rest of the group. You think she’s about to hug you but she stops just short of it, arms lowering back to her side awkwardly before she resigns to grabbing you by the shoulders instead. For a second, you stare at each other in silence, neither knowing what to say.
“Oh shit, that was too cool girl.” Thano’s voice ruins the moment, but before you all begin heading back to the platform, you hear a soft voice from behind Se-mi.
“Thank you.”
Min-su meekly looks at you with obvious guilt, and Se-mi drops her hands from your shoulders to take your hand as you all walk back towards the center. It’s comforting to have her hand in yours again (especially after you almost died letting go of it).
“It’s fine, I already saw the other group before leaving.” Obvious lie, but he didn’t need to know that.
As you all begin to spin again, Se-mi gives your hand a short squeeze before looking down at you with a gentle smile that, as always, almost looks like a smirk.
“I was right about you.” You chuckle at this and turn away to hide your reddened face, but of course, the moment doesn’t last very long.
“3 players.”
The three of you barely spare a glance at Thanos and Nam-gyu before you grab each other’s hands and run off, hearing the rapper scream a curse at your betrayal. You almost want to laugh, but you’re too focused on holding onto Se-mi and Min-su’s hands for dear life as you run towards one of the few open rooms still available.
They’re filling up too quickly, and out of the corner of your eye, you see two other groups scrambling towards the one room you have your sights set on. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you come to the horrifying realization that groups of three might be too small to fit everyone that was still alive, even if they were all paired up. The thought makes your legs move that much faster, but just as you’re about to reach your safe haven, a body collides with yours and sends you flying towards the floor.
10 seconds left.
“Min-su?!” He was on your left, but where is he?
7 seconds left.
“Get up, get inside the room!” Se-mi. You’re pretty sure it’s her rough hands that grab your sweater and pull you up.
5 seconds left.
“Where is he?! Min-su!” You stumble over your feet, your mind reeling as you’re bouncing back and forth between trying to find him and trying to follow Se-mi into the room.
3 seconds left.
“Wait! Wait, please help me!” He’s half on the ground, half fighting against a man trying to get up in front of him to enter a room to your right. You’re already in yours, and an arm wrapped tight around your waist prevents you from running out to save his life once again.
1 second left.
“Let go! Min-su!”
The buzzer sounds right as the door slams shut in your face.
The lock clicks shut.
Somewhere outside, you hear gunfire and the desperate cries of men and women who failed.
For a second, you think you can hear him begging for his life, but then a single shot rings out and his fate is sealed.
—
Somewhere in the haze of emotions, you continue to grasp onto her arm like a lifeline. Your head rings, and you don’t even hear the announcer’s call for each of the next two rounds. It’s Se-mi who makes sure you’re right next to her the entire time, no matter which group you join or which room you scramble into. She doesn’t bother to ask if you’re okay (because it is extremely obvious this time, with tear tracks on your cheeks and shallow eyes staring into the distance), but her firm hold on you still shows her underlying care. That, and the slight shake of her body reminds you that despite her previous bravado and confidence, she’s still human just like you.
When the game ends, you step over the blood of the losers to make it back to the main room (you wonder if you had stepped on Min-su’s as well - the thought of it makes you sick to your stomach).
Thanos greets the two of you with excitement even after you left him and Nam-gyu in the dust, but you don’t even have it in you to entertain his antics now. Your head was pounding, and the only thing keeping you from curling up into a ball on the spot was Se-mi’s arm around your shoulders; she was holding onto you like you would curl up and die if she let go, which you might.
When you both settle into her bed, you really begin to feel the weight of his absence.
“I’m sorry for grabbing you like that,” she says, her voice quiet as if you were a deer about to sprint away. “...You wouldn’t have made it in time-”
“I know.” You’re curt, almost rude, and you feel bad immediately for your outburst. It wasn’t her fault, you reminded yourself. It wasn’t her fault that your first selfless moment in this hellhole means nothing now. “I… I’m sorry. You saved my life. Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me for that.” Her hand caresses yours, soothing you into finally allowing your tense body to relax.
Something about her gentle demeanor coaxes out a more peaceful side in you, and you lean your head on her shoulder. You’re pleasantly surprised at her lack of resistance, and something in your gut burns when she leans her head right back on yours.
For a second, you think about No-eul and feel a strange amount of guilt creeping up on you, but Se-mi changes her grip on your hand slightly to interlace your fingers and it all goes away. You owe nothing to her. Companionship isn’t something she should bar you from looking for when you face death at her hands everyday now.
What’s so wrong with finding your own comfort in the beautiful, kind, and unexpectedly soft woman sitting next to you?
—
350 million won.
It’s enough for those smugglers, enough for her, and so, it’s enough for you to change your vote.
When red LEDs light up your face and you begin exchanging your blue patch for a red one, you feel the weight of the entire situation crashing down on you.
You chose life this time. From now on, if you die, it won’t be of your own volition anymore. This fact disturbs you greatly, so you’re quick in pushing through the crowd to get right back to Se-mi’s side. You’re glad she chose to live too. If you made it out of here, you wouldn’t want to lose contact with her. Trauma bonds are pretty strong apparently.
—
When two groups of men start walking out of the bathrooms covered in blood and money begins to fill the pig again, you shuffle a bit closer to Se-mi, and her grip on your hand tightens.
Supposedly it was a brawl, and from the frantic head counts of both sides, the O’s had lost one extra man. The sight of a bloody Nam-gyu shuffling onto Thano’s bed, shaking from the drugs with a frantic, bloodthirsty look in his eyes made your stomach drop. Now, there was no idiotic rapper to take hold of his leash, and you were sure he would want to kill you two after you turned your backs on him twice.
The cold steel of the fork you took from dinner provided a comforting weight inside your pocket.
“Se-mi.” She turns towards you.
“Yeah?”
“Sleep on this side tonight, okay?” Your grip on her arm is tight and you know you must look completely shaken by now, but she still gives her signature confident smirk.
“Sure, but you better make it worth my while.”
Your face goes red and you scoff, making her chuckle. God, you’re glad you have someone like this by your side.
—
When the screams begin, you immediately dig into your pocket and pull out your makeshift weapon. You want to call out for her, but you’re terrified that if you make a single noise, you and her will be swarmed by the wolves tearing apart the people all around you.
Where the fuck are the guards?! No, who are you kidding, of course they would sit by and let you kill each other. Probably the highlight of their night. Under the fear, you feel so much anger and pain at the situation that you can barely focus.
No-eul’s face flashes in your mind once again but now, you’re beginning to struggle to differentiate her from the other murderers all around you.
No, no, no. You can’t think that way. She’s not like any of them.
“You traitor bitch!” You turn your head down to look for the familiar voice, and to your utter horror, Nam-gyu is standing right below you. Across from him (and cornered against the wall) is Se-mi. Even with the strobing lights, you can see the intense fear under her angry expression. “I’m gonna fucking gut you!”
When he charges at her, you make one of the easiest choices of your entire life and roll off the side of the bunk.
You nearly miss your landing, but your fork doesn’t and his scream of pain reveals that instantly. You take both him and yourself to the ground, but your heart is racing and you can still feel him bucking from beneath you, so you don’t get a chance to breathe before yanking the fork out of his shoulder and slamming it back down into the side of his neck. The feeling of it sinking it and spraying your hand with hot blood is sickening beyond belief, but you block out everything except the feeling of his squirming beneath you and raise the metal above your head again.
You aren’t sure how many times you bring it down on him, but a body colliding into yours knocks you out of your spiral.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Se-mi’s voice barely comprehends in your ears, but you can feel her arms around you clearly. “He’s dead, it’s okay, we’re okay.” Her hand rubs your back soothingly, and only then do you realize there are tears pouring down your cheeks.
Your chest heaves as you openly sob, clinging to her like a lifeline and unintentionally smearing the back of her sweater with Nam-gyu’s blood. You shut out everything but her voice, and even when the guards enter and fire into the air, you don’t find yourself flinching once, simply dropping to the floor still in her arms.
—
When some of the players gun down all the guards in the room, you hide in the corner with Se-mi (who was still whispering comforting words into your ears). You watch as players 120 and 456 take center stage in the room, shutting down the last bits of the riot and forcing the one square-mask guard onto his knees. They call for others to join them, others with military experience or even those with the faintest idea of how to use a gun.
Of course, you had military experience right alongside No-eul, but the ache in your body and the tight grip Se-mi has on you keeps you from getting up. Your head pounds and spins as your eyes begin trailing around the slaughterhouse of a room.
Dead people in green, dead people in pink. Your eyes linger on the guards and their triangle-masks, immediately recalling the shape No-eul had on hers.
What if…
No.
The moment the team of rebels leaves, you go to get up but a tight grip on your forearm drags you right back down.
“Hey, hey, where are you going?” Her eyes are confused but her voice is just as gentle as it’s been the entire time she sat there combing her fingers through your hair and whispering about how brave you were and how thankful she was. “Talk to me please, what’s wrong?”
“I just need to check something, that’s all.” She doesn’t look satisfied, but Se-mi lets you get up after you give her a brisk hug and a strained smile.
With a shaky breath, you begin to make your rounds. You can feel the eyes on you as you walk up the first guard and pull off their mask, letting out a quiet sigh of relief at the lack of familiarity in their dead eyes.
With each one, you grow more and more tense, steeling yourself for the possibility of seeing No-eul’s empty, dead eyes staring back at you.
It would be the thing that kills you. The loss of your reason to fight in the first place.
Kneeling down next to the final guard, you can barely breathe as your fingers brush against the edge of their mask. Your hands are shaking so bad and you curse yourself for your sudden lack of strength. You would die if it was her. You would pull that fork out of Nam-gyu’s neck and jam it in your own if it was her.
Shutting your eyes tightly, you tug it off and let it clatter to the side. Your breathing slows when you peek and immediately recognize the face as belonging to a younger man’s, not your No-eul.
Please God, give me this one thing and let her live. Let us leave with my blood money and never come back.
—
You can’t even feel joy or disappointment when the rebellion inevitably ends in a whimper.
456 is dragged in and from a quick glance around the room, you see that 001 and 390 are missing as well. 120 and 388 sit dejectedly not too far away from you, and you can’t help but feel for them; they were people, far stronger than you, that failed to be the heroes. You can’t judge them, you never even considered fighting alongside these brave people in the first place.
Now that everything has calmed down again and lights-out happens like every other night and not the bloodbath that ensued earlier, you’re far more aware of the sticky feeling of blood on your skin. Your sweater even feels slightly heavier, the entire front of it stained with deep red fluid.
“I-I need to wash this off.” Se-mi, who was almost drifting off next to you, shoots awake and gets up right behind you.
“I’ll come with you.” It’s an unspoken fact that she definitely would, but you’re still happy at the confirmation.
In the haze of everything that’s occurred, you completely forget that No-eul has been the only reason you’ve been able to get into the bathroom these days, and the only reason she lets you in is because you’re you. So, when you call out and the door opens as usual, you’re confused at her stiff posture. However, after a weird awkward silence, she steps aside to let both you and Se-mi in, almost slamming the door behind you two.
—
No-eul’s eyes trail you two as you enter the bathroom together, and she can barely control herself from charging in there and kicking 380 out altogether; she had warned you about people like her, so what were you still doing clinging to her side like that? Moreover, seeing the blood practically covering your entire front was like a gut punch.
She should’ve been there. She should’ve blown the heads off of whoever did that to you. She’s been careless, and she understands that now.
The worst she felt was during the Mingle game. Each time she had been sent in, her breath would hitch and she would hesitate for a few seconds at the entrance, eyes scanning the wide open area for any signs of you. Every single time she failed to spot the number 037 on the clothes of those she shot, a weight would be lifted off of her shoulders.
After the final round, the room doors had opened just before she was able to leave through the soldier’s door. She takes the chance to search for your kind face, and instead is faced with the sight of you practically hanging off of 380, a lost, soulless look in your eyes. Pain for your sadness mixes with some other ugly emotion, and for a second, she lets herself imagine how your expression would change if she sent a bullet through 380’s heart.
Would you cry out for that woman, or would you call No-eul’s name out of instinct, like a lost animal begging for comfort?
In the end, she simply leaves with her fellow soldiers, silently cursing herself for such a violent thought.
—
As you scrub the blood off your face, neck, and hands, you do your best to not let your gaze drift back over to Se-mi. She finishes cleaning up long before you, and you can feel her eyes on you as you scrub away. But no matter how hard you seem to scratch at your hands, the faint red tint just won’t come out. Your breathing grows heavy, and you begin to rub at it harder with the soap.
Your hands are still red.
The blood from his neck covers your hands, the sounds, the sounds-
“That’s good enough,” a soft voice sounds from beside you, gently taking your hands in hers as you shake.
“No, no, there’s still blood, I-, there’s still…” You turn your hands this way and that, examining them and the red tint you can’t seem to get rid of.
“It’s not blood, you’ve just been rubbing too hard…” She shushes you gently and her thumbs begin tracing circles on your raw palms. “I’m sorry you had to do that, I really am.”
You can only shake your head and press your face in the crook of her neck. It’s a familiar position, one you were in only last night but with a completely different woman. She’s just as soft as No-eul, but she doesn’t wrap her arms around your body and pull you close. Instead, her fingers find the zipper of your bloodied sweater and gently begin to pull it down. The motion makes you back away a little, and she lets your sweater fall to the ground after tugging it off you.
It’s freeing without the weight of all that blood on you, and your heart swells when she takes off her own jacket to put it on you. This is the kind of care you rarely find yourself receiving, and whenever you did, it was usually by the hand of only one other person. You would have never expected the cocky, confident girl you met two days ago would become this important to you.
You were right about her. Se-mi was the ever genuine, ever caring woman you hoped she was after your first real conversation together, and you wonder if the world finally decided to go easy on you for once by sending you a beacon of strength in the middle of this hellhole.
“Thank you, Se-mi,” you breathe out, the feeling of her fingertips grazing the skin of your arms still present long after her hands have dropped back to her side.
She doesn’t respond. Her gaze is still heavy on you, but this time, you hold eye contact and let yourself drown in her eyes. For a split second, you’re sure you see them dart down to your lips, and you think she might just eat you alive with the way she’s examining you.
In an act that surprises even yourself, it’s you who leans forward and presses your lips against hers. Cliche fireworks don’t go off, but the second she reciprocates by grabbing the back of your neck to deepen the kiss, you feel the tension between you two finally reach a high point, and it’s euphoric.
You hold each other with pure, unadulterated desire as one of her hands travel down to your waist, pulling you in. The kiss deepens and somewhere in the back of your mind, you think of No-eul. She was right outside that door, what if you were caught?
What the hell are you thinking about right now?
“You’re beautiful, so perfect,” she whispers, and her words make your heart beat that much faster. “My brave girl.” Se-mi breaks the kiss to press her lips against your neck now instead, drawing a moan from deep in your throat. She’s still holding onto you like her life depends on it.
Unfortunately, your mind is still whirling and you have to remind yourself once again that you owe No-eul absolutely nothing. She shouldn’t and wouldn’t be angry over you finding someone to love, who loved you in a place like this. Is it wrong to search for comfort when you’re so sure you might die tomorrow? Especially from someone like Se-mi, who has done nothing but protect you and care for you.
Your hands tangle in her hair as she slides a hand beneath your shirt-
“Player 380.”
You spin around as the door slams open, a gruff voice making you jump apart from Se-mi. You shouldn’t feel ashamed, but you do, especially when you can feel No-eul’s eyes trailing up and down your disheveled form, and you know she knows exactly what happened here.
“Get back to the room.” You look down to see her revolver gripped tightly in her hand, as if she’s fighting the urge to lift it.
“Just give us a couple more-”
“Now.” She practically growls out that last word, and you can hear a click in the silent bathroom as she loads her revolver at her side.
Se-mi is brave, but she’s still smart enough to realize that she’s being threatened and would not win a fight against the taller woman with a loaded gun. WIth her head held high, she takes your hand and begins walking around the guard, but No-eul steps in her way and shakes her head.
“037 stays.” You all pause, and Se-mi grips your hand tighter.
“What? What the fuck are you on about? Just let us go back to the room-”
“She stays. Now get out before I make you.” No-eul takes a step forward, hand raising to point the barrel of the gun in Se-mi’s face.
It’s difficult to hold herself back when she’s this close to doing what she wants with this random woman who’s begun impeaching on her world. The barrier holding you and No-eul together, apart from everyone else, has been disrupted, and she begins to wonder if you’ll actually hate her if she pulls the trigger now. She wants to, especially hearing you fucking moan for this woman.
Where else has she touched you?
Her trigger finger twitches.
“It’s okay, Se-mi,” you whisper, breaking your gaze from No-eul to look over at her.
First name basis? You really want her to kill this woman.
“Just go, I’ll see you in a bit.”
Se-mi looks at you, confusion apparent in her features, but your face is perfectly calm and even though that disturbs her a little, she accepts it. She’ll trust you to stay alive with this psycho.
“Okay, just call out for me if you need anything.” No-eul scoffs at this, earning a glare from Se-mi before she walks out the bathroom. She spares you one final glance over her shoulder, and with a nod from you, she exits.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, huh?!” You’re practically burning with anger at her behavior, but No-eul ignores your outburst and walks over to the door, turning the latch to lock it before turning back around to look at you. “You think ‘cause you have that mask on you can just go around pointing your gun at everyone?!”
“And what the hell were you doing?” She pulls her mask off, throwing it to the floor before pulling down her face covering. Now, you can actually see the anger simmering beneath her eyes, an accusatory look on her face as she steps closer. “Were you planning on having sex with her or something? This stranger you just met?”
Your face begins to burn for a different reason now.
“That’s… that’s none of your business. I’m a grown woman, I can decide what I want to do or not do.” Your voice is far too unsure and she laughs sarcastically. Running a hand through her sweaty hair, she approaches to stand right in front of you. Your breathing slows as her eyes trail down your face, locking onto the number 380 right above your heart. Her lips curl into a frown and she grabs Se-mi’s sweater, looking like she wanted to burn a hole through the number on your chest.
To her, it’s a reminder of her failure to protect you as she swore she always would, and now, in the wake of this failure, another person has come along and threatened to take her place - a place in your life she would kill anyone to keep.
“Take this off,” she breathes out. The air is tense, and you almost want to deny her just to see what she would do, but fuck, she almost looks genuinely hurt and you can’t say no now.
With your eyes still locked onto hers, you slowly pull the sweater off and let it drop to the ground at your feet. Her eyes are still pinned to your chest, but now you’re so close that you can feel her soft breathing on your face. You swallow harshly and press your face against her shoulder, bunching up her pink tracksuit in your hands as you pull her closer. The feeling of her so close again kills all the tension in your shoulders. This is the safest you’ve felt in 24 hours, and it’s in the arms of a woman who’s been killing people like you the entire time.
You’re almost a bit ashamed, but what’s wrong with being a bit selfish for once?
You’re shaking in her arms when she pulls back slightly to cup your wet cheeks in her hands. You hadn’t even realized you had started crying again, but now, she’s looking down at your glassy eyes and swollen lips with so much intensity that you forget why you were crying in the first place. Her thumb swipes a tear off your cheek before she leans down, lips brushing against yours.
“My beautiful girl.”
Finally, nine years after the day you met, she presses her lips against yours and claims you as hers. Faintly, you feel your back collide with the wall behind you as her tongue slips in your mouth. You’re holding onto her suit for dear life as she practically devours you, and you wonder how you were ever angry at this woman. It’s far more intense than the softness you experienced earlier with Se-mi, and you’re beginning to feel the effects of being pent up for so long.
It’s not like you’ve never had sex with her before (to be fair, it’s only happened once), but this was far too emotional to be compared to the drunken haze you were both in when she fucked you over the seat of her van. There were no kisses shared then, no gentle caress of your face before she took you for herself.
You’re dragged from your own thoughts when you feel a hand slide under your shirt and bra, gasping into her mouth as a cold hand cups your breast, roughly pinching your nipple between two fingers. You whimper right into her ear as her lips move down to your neck, sucking and biting as you openly pant. She’s practically surrounded you by now, but it’s not enough.
With trembling hands, you grab the zipper of her pink suit and yank it down to reveal her slender body underneath. She practically tears the black turtleneck underneath the suit off as you stare. Your fingers scratch down her toned torso and you drink in the wonderful groan that leaves her mouth. As you’re preoccupied, she tugs on the hem of your sweatpants, pulling them down right along with your panties in one pull.
Faintly, as her hands grip the plush of your thighs, you try to determine if you’ve ever felt such strong feelings of desire, of love, of anything with anybody.
No, you’re sure you’ve felt this before.
Your eyes shoot open as she calls your name. Somewhere in the haze, No-eul has dropped to her knees in front of you, and now, she’s looking at you like you hold the world in your hands.
“Do you still love me?” A pause, and her fingers press harder into your thigh, cold leather gloves long forgotten on the floor. “Can you still accept me?”
Every moment that you remember being so close to that overwhelming emotion, No-eul is right there next to you.
“I’ve loved you since the day we met.”
A tear falls from her pained eyes, but you aren’t given the opportunity to wipe it away before she leans forward and presses her open mouth against your core. A gasp leaves your mouth and you immediately tangle your fingers in her short hair. It’s a bit too much to take in all at once - the woman you’ve loved for years is fucking you, and this time, you think she might actually love you back.
No, who are you kidding, you know she loves you. Maybe not as much as you love her, but she has to love you if she’s on her knees like this for you.
With the comfort of this knowledge, you lean your head back and lose yourself in the feeling of her tongue deep inside you, strong hands holding you still against the wall even if your legs feel like giving out. As your moans and pants fill the room, you beg internally that Se-mi isn’t waiting right outside the door to walk you back (or at least let the sound-proofing be decent).
Unsurprisingly, after a couple years without any genuine intimacy with anyone (you couldn’t bear to let anyone fuck you after No-eul did), you reach your peak quickly. It doesn’t feel like some triumphant moment; your legs shake as the tight coil in your stomach unwinds and it’s satisfying to some extent, but you can’t stop the sudden rush of tears that follow.
Why did your acceptance of your feelings for her have to come in a place like this - covered in the blood of someone you killed with your own two hands?
Your legs finally give out in your grief, but she’s quick to catch you, leaning back to properly sit down on the floor as she carefully guides you onto her lap. For a moment, you just tuck your head in her neck and cry as a hand gently rubs your back.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” No-eul whispers, caught up in her own guilt for leading you down the same hateful path she accepted long ago. Why did you have to love her? Why did you have to follow her road towards self-destruction, the one she vowed to shield you from?
You want to tell her that she has nothing to be sorry about because you chose all of this on your own, but you can’t bring yourself to speak. You’re worried that if you open your mouth now, all you’ll do is start spouting nonsense about how much you love her and how much of your humanity you would forsake to protect her dream.
Instead of further exposing yourself, you gently take the hand she’s kept on your waist and guide it down lower once again. To her credit, she understands right away and you’re given no time to prepare for the two long, slender fingers she pushes inside you. The sound of your sharp inhale right next to her ear must’ve been enough confirmation that you were okay, because she immediately starts moving them up and down inside you, rubbing gently against your still sensitive walls.
Your hands wrap around her back and grip her shoulders as your hips begin to move in tandem with her hands, your heavy breathing a stark contrast against her soft one. The hand she had on your back is still there, soothing you until your tears turn from ones of sadness to ones of pleasure.
As the high you’re chasing starts to get closer, you tear your nails down her back. Even though she’s still the same person as she was minutes ago, something feels different this time.
“Please don’t stop, please-”
“I won’t, I swear.” The hand on your back flies down to grip your hips to hold you steady as your movements grow more frantic. “I’ll never let you go, not for anything.”
You almost fall forward when she suddenly leans back, but you catch yourself on her shoulders once again. This time, she looks you square in the eyes as she pushes you over the edge, her gaze filled with an emotion you know too well.
“I love you,” she breathes out, and this is all you need to fall apart in her hands. “I’m in love with you, I can’t let you go, I won’t.”
In the afterglow of the moment, she wraps her arms around your waist and pulls you right up against her body.
“Even if you can’t love me anymore, I’ll continue holding onto you for the rest of my life.”
You smile at her words. You feel more content than you ever have before.
It wouldn’t be so bad to die in this place now.
—
A/N: my bad min-su fans and nam-guy fans, its for the plot y'all😭😭also if im being completely honest, I started writing writing this longass story just for smut with no-eul but it got so unexpectedly deep cuz I couldn't handle writing it with no build-up or emotional tension or ANYTHING
hope y'all enjoyed and LOL to the fellow FREAKS out there I hope the smut was alright cuz that was the most difficult part for me... LMK WHAT U THINK!! pt. 3 is coming in SEVEN MONTHS LMFAO😭😭😭SEASON 3 SAVE ME... SAVE ME SEASON 3
also if u request feel free to add details and stuff I might be able to build it into a longass story like this (but WOW this took too long) also I LOVE TO WRITE SAD SHT!!! SEND ME SAD SHT ILL LOVE IT!!
Taglist: @asvterias
#squid game season 2#squid game x reader#se mi squid game#se mi x reader#player 380#kang no eul#kang no eul x reader#guard 011#squid game#wlw#angst#smut#kang noeul x reader#semi x reader
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One criticism of Jane Austen is that she ignored the lower classes. I find this kind of dumb on multiple levels, primarily because not every work of fiction or social criticism needs to include every single social ill, but also because she does talk about servants/the lower classes quite a bit more than people realize and what she says is important.
The overall theme: kindness to servants/the lower classes/the poor is a very important mark of character.
We all know that Elizabeth Bennet changed her mind about Mr. Darcy after hearing a positive character reference from his housekeeper, but that is just one example of many. The Dashwood girls are better employers than John & Fanny since they easily find servants to move across the country with them: Her wisdom too limited the number of their servants to three; two maids and a man, with whom they were speedily provided from amongst those who had formed their establishment at Norland. Also, servants tended to brag about having wealthy employers, these three servants wanted both a far away and a less prestigious job. John & Fanny were really that bad!
Another mark against General Tilney's character is that he gets irrationally angry at/scares servants:
To such anxious attention was the General’s civility carried, that not aware of her extraordinary swiftness in entering the house, he was quite angry with the servant whose neglect had reduced her to open the door of the apartment herself. “What did William mean by it? He should make a point of inquiring into the matter.” And if Catherine had not most warmly asserted his innocence, it seemed likely that William would lose the favour of his master forever, if not his place, by her rapidity.
“Why! How can you ask the question? Because no time is to be lost in frightening my old housekeeper out of her wits, because I must go and prepare a dinner for you, to be sure.” (Henry, on his father coming to his house for a visit. This may be half a joke, but General Tilney is very critical of the meal)
Mrs. Ferrars's character is made quite plain in this complaint about paying annuities (basically a pension here) to some of her husband's old servants:
I have known a great deal of the trouble of annuities; for my mother was clogged with the payment of three to old superannuated servants by my father’s will, and it is amazing how disagreeable she found it. Twice every year these annuities were to be paid; and then there was the trouble of getting it to them; and then one of them was said to have died, and afterwards it turned out to be no such thing. My mother was quite sick of it. Her income was not her own, she said, with such perpetual claims on it; and it was the more unkind in my father, because, otherwise, the money would have been entirely at my mother’s disposal, without any restriction whatever.
Mrs. Ferrars is loaded, and she begrudges paying a few pounds to 3 servants. She is greedy and ungrateful.
Mrs. Norris's treatment of the servants is similar to her treatment of Fanny. It shows the depth of her miserliness (how much could one boy really eat?) and also cruelty:
"I had been looking about me in the poultry-yard, and was just coming out, when who should I see but Dick Jackson making up to the servants’ hall-door with two bits of deal board in his hand, bringing them to father, you may be sure; mother had chanced to send him of a message to father, and then father had bid him bring up them two bits of board, for he could not no how do without them. I knew what all this meant, for the servants’ dinner-bell was ringing at the very moment over our heads; and as I hate such encroaching people (the Jacksons are very encroaching, I have always said so: just the sort of people to get all they can), I said to the boy directly (a great lubberly fellow of ten years old, you know, who ought to be ashamed of himself), ‘I’ll take the boards to your father, Dick, so get you home again as fast as you can.’ The boy looked very silly, and turned away without offering a word, for I believe I might speak pretty sharp; and I dare say it will cure him of coming marauding about the house for one while. I hate such greediness—so good as your father is to the family, employing the man all the year round!”
It also highlights her hypocrisy, as Mrs. Norris has moved in during the play to help with the preparations, so she is getting free meals all week but she won't let this kid eat when he's helping his father (who is building the stage for the play)
Mr. Knightley considers the common people of Highbury before moving a path, even though he likely owns all of the land and can do whatever he wants:
"But John, as to what I was telling you of my idea of moving the path to Langham, of turning it more to the right that it may not cut through the home meadows, I cannot conceive any difficulty. I should not attempt it, if it were to be the means of inconvenience to the Highbury people, but if you call to mind exactly the present line of the path"
The kind Musgroves, who have given their nursemaid a retirement plan instead of turning her out:
A chaise was sent for from Crewkherne, and Charles conveyed back a far more useful person in the old nursery-maid of the family, one who having brought up all the children, and seen the very last, the lingering and long-petted Master Harry, sent to school after his brothers, was now living in her deserted nursery to mend stockings and dress all the blains and bruises she could get near her, and who, consequently, was only too happy in being allowed to go and help nurse dear Miss Louisa.
And who clearly are rewarded for this kindness.
Anne Elliot showing kindness to Mrs. Smith, who has nearly fallen right out of the gentry, vs. her fathers disdain for charity:
“Westgate Buildings!” said he, “and who is Miss Anne Elliot to be visiting in Westgate Buildings? A Mrs Smith. A widow Mrs Smith; and who was her husband? One of five thousand Mr Smiths whose names are to be met with everywhere. And what is her attraction? That she is old and sickly. Upon my word, Miss Anne Elliot, you have the most extraordinary taste! Everything that revolts other people, low company, paltry rooms, foul air, disgusting associations are inviting to you. But surely you may put off this old lady till to-morrow: she is not so near her end, I presume, but that she may hope to see another day. What is her age? Forty?”
Added to Sir Walter and Elizabeth's idea to cut expenses:
“Can we retrench? Does it occur to you that there is any one article in which we can retrench?” and Elizabeth, to do her justice, had, in the first ardour of female alarm, set seriously to think what could be done, and had finally proposed these two branches of economy, to cut off some unnecessary charities, and to refrain from new furnishing the drawing-room; to which expedients she afterwards added the happy thought of their taking no present down to Anne, as had been the usual yearly custom."
Vs. how the Crofts treat the poor:
She could have said more on the subject; for she had in fact so high an opinion of the Crofts, and considered her father so very fortunate in his tenants, felt the parish to be so sure of a good example, and the poor of the best attention and relief, that however sorry and ashamed for the necessity of the removal, she could not but in conscience feel that they were gone who deserved not to stay, and that Kellynch Hall had passed into better hands than its owners’.
Henry Crawford's moral fall begins with ignoring the needs of his tenants:
"I have half an idea of going into Norfolk again soon. I am not satisfied about Maddison. I am sure he still means to impose on me if possible, and get a cousin of his own into a certain mill, which I design for somebody else. I must come to an understanding with him. I must make him know that I will not be tricked on the south side of Everingham, any more than on the north: that I will be master of my own property... I have a great mind to go back into Norfolk directly, and put everything at once on such a footing as cannot be afterwards swerved from. Maddison is a clever fellow; I do not wish to displace him, provided he does not try to displace me; but it would be simple to be duped by a man who has no right of creditor to dupe me, and worse than simple to let him give me a hard-hearted, griping fellow for a tenant, instead of an honest man, to whom I have given half a promise already. Would it not be worse than simple? Shall I go? Do you advise it?”
Of course, Henry does not go to Everginham, as he knows is right, but instead goes to the party in London, where he again runs into Maria...
Yes, Austen didn't write servants/the lower classes as full characters in general, they are in the background and around the edges of the scenes, but over and over, we can sort characters into moral and immoral by their treatment of those less fortunate around them.
#servants#jane austen#mansfield park#emma#northanger abbey#pride & prejudice#sense & sensibility#persuasion#treatment of servants#and the lower classes#there are more examples these are just some#the poor and servants are there#and they tell us a lot
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Wake Up Call | Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
(GIF isn’t mine.)
Summary: Mornings had never been Steve’s thing. Unless he had somewhere he needed to be, he did not like being woken up. However, waking up to you first thing in the morning was definitely something that he wasn’t against.
Genre: Fluff.
Warnings: Very slight allusion to suggestive themes, nothing else otherwise.
Word count: 1.2k
A/N: Steve, my beloved. I love him so much. Here’s the first fic I wrote of him in forever. I’ll post the second one either tomorrow or Tuesday, and then it’s right back to your regularly scheduled Daryl content.
“Steve.”
A noncommittal grunt.
“Stevie…”
Another noncommittal grunt.
“Baby, you gotta wake up.”
“Uh-uh.”
You could not help the small laugh that escaped your chest at your boyfriend’s firm insistence to stay in the realm of slumber. Admittedly, you found the scene in front of you immensely adorable; Steve, on his stomach, his arms tucked around his pillow as if he were cuddling it, his hair a mess of loose strands and some curls, and his eyes shut tight as he attempted to fight off the thing that was trying to lull him out of the comforting depths of sleep.
Steve had never been one to wake up without a fight, not unless he knew he had somewhere important he needed to be. If not, one had a better chance using a tornado as an ice cream cone than rousing Steve Harrington from his slumber. He could be as stubborn as a mule under normal circumstances, but when he was asleep and comfortable and he did not want to wake up? Yeah, he was like an immovable boulder, but only way worse.
Luckily, you were well aware of how he was in that state, and your almost two years of being with him played to your advantage. You knew exactly how to wake him up.
With a practiced precession, you slowly moved towards him, slightly hovering over his exposed back. You carefully leaned down and pressed soft kisses from his upper back, onto his shoulder blade, up the back of his neck to the skin right below his earlobe, before moving your mouth up to whisper in his ear.
“Stevie,” you whispered in a sing-song tone of voice, giggling quietly when he groaned and pressed his face deeper into the pillow. “Baby, it’s time to wake up. It’s almost ten.”
“Go away,” Steve mumbled weakly, his voice muffled by the pillow.
You simply laughed at that. You could tell that Steve was not fully awake yet. If he was, he would never tell you to go away. He loved your mere presence more than anything else in the world. Well, not as much as he loved your touch, but it was right up there on the list.
“I made us breakfast,” you tried again, this time succeeding slightly. Steve turned his head, and you could see the way his already-closed eyes screwed tighter, a clear sign that he was desperately clinging onto the last remnants of his dreamland. However, with some more gentle urging, he would be fully awake soon enough.
You shifted your body so that you were instead seated on the bed instead of hovering over his body. You raised your hand and gently ran your fingers through his messy hair, attempting to tame the wildness you had come to love seeing in the mornings. “I made waffles. And poured you some orange juice. It’s waiting for you downstairs.”
Steve finally opened his eyes, clearly having lost the battle against consciousness. He blinked his eyes a couple of times, his beautiful amber irises adjusting to the light that was pouring in through the curtains. Once he could see clearly, he looked up and saw you, seated on top of his bed, smiling down at him with that beautiful smile of yours, looking absolutely radiant. And the fact that you were wearing nothing but your underwear and his shirt—that he had carelessly tossed aside the night prior due to it having been in the way of your activities—was an added bonus to the goddess-like view in front of him.
“G’mornin’, beautiful,” he greeted you with a small, lopsided smile, his gaze trailing over you appreciatively. Despite all the times he had woken up and saw you like that, he still acted like he was seeing it for the first time. His eyes trailed over the plush skin of your exposed thighs, up to the way his shirt hugged you, to the beautiful smile on your face.
Yeah, this was a sight he would forever appreciate, and would absolutely never take for granted.
“Good morning,” you replied with a light laugh, retracting your hand from his hair when he pushed himself to sit up. “Sleep okay?”
Steve nodded as he stretched his arms above his head to remove the kinks that had formed whilst he was asleep. “Yeah,” he confirmed with a yawn. “I always sleep better when you’re around.”
You smiled at him. “You’re a real charmer, Steve Harrington.”
“Thanks. I don’t even try,” he joked, laughing when you lightly shoved his shoulder. “What time is it?”
“Almost ten,” you repeated what you had told him earlier when he was still fighting to stay asleep.
Steve’s eyes widened at your words. “Shit, really?” He chuckled in disbelief when you nodded. “Wow. And you let me sleep that late?”
You shrugged nonchalantly. “It gave me the time to make us some breakfast without someone coaxing me out of the kitchen so that they can make breakfast instead,” you said, sending him a pointed look.
Steve chuckled and shrugged. “You can’t blame me for trynna take care of my girl.” He threw the bedcovers off of his body, his lower body covered with the boxers he had pulled on before going to bed the night before, but leaving his chest exposed for your view. He smirked slightly when he noticed the way your eyes trailed over his body this time. “See something you like?”
You scoffed and ducked your head shyly. “Shut up,” you mumbled, although there was no real heat behind your words.
Steve laughed and wrapped his arms around your midsection, pulling you into his body. You collided against his chest with a small ‘oof’, and your angelic laughter filled the air. It was a sound Steve loved immensely.
“Don’t go all shy on me now, Honey. I don’t blame you for appreciatin’ the view.” Steve chuckled fondly when you simply scoffed and buried your face into his chest. Opting to shift the subject instead of teasing you any further, he pressed a kiss on top of your head. “What did you make us for breakfast?”
“Waffles,” you began, once again repeating what you had already told him in his half awake state, “and I poured us some orange juice.”
“That sounds amazing,” he murmured into your hair. “Thank you, Sweetheart. You didn’t have to.”
“I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to do it.” You pulled back and looked at him with a loving smile. “I love you, Stevie. Making breakfast is nothing. I do it for you because I want to.”
“I love you too,” Steve replied with a smile. He leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, purposefully avoiding your mouth until he had the chance to brush his teeth to rid himself of his morning breath. “Let’s go eat, yeah? Then we can do whatever you want to.”
“Even watch Footloose?” you asked hopefully, an excited glimmer in your eyes.
Steve chuckled and nodded. “Yes. Even watch Footloose.” His chuckle turned into a light laugh when you tugged his hand, urging him up from the bed.
Steve Harrington might not love waking up in the mornings when he did not need to, but he loved you, and that made it all worth it in the end.
#krys writes .ೃ࿐#steve harrington#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve x reader#steve x female reader#stranger things
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Tipping Point
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1.4k
Warnings: sexual tension, implied smut
Summary: Your aunt signs you up for shooting lessons with Spencer Reid. You get more than you bargained for when you go.
Square Filled: alex blake (2022) for @spencerreidbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3
x
Not having a job is really kicking your ass. All you do is stay at home and flip through magazines and shows you’ve already watched. Since your parents died, your aunt has taken you under her wing. The housing and renting market is a joke right now, so you’re living with her until you can go to school. You want to go into her field since you look up to her so much, but the school year doesn’t start for another three months.
So, you’re just trying to pass the time by reading magazines and watching shit reality shows.
Aunt Alex walks downstairs after getting ready for work, and she goes to the kitchen where the full pot of coffee you brewed is waiting for her.
“So, what do you have planned for today?” she asks.
“Well, at ten, I want to cure diseases, and at two, I plan on writing a thesis on String Theory. Why? Do you have something planned? I can see if I can fit you in,” you say sarcastically.
“You’re so funny,” she rolls her eyes playfully. “There’s actually something I want you to do for me.”
“What’s up?”
“I signed you up for shooting lessons. One of my coworkers is teaching the class, and he knows you’re coming. Your appointment is at two.”
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. She’s been nagging you to take shooting lessons ever since you moved in with her.
“Aunt Alex…”
“Y/N, listen, your mother wasn’t prepared and look where it got her. I’m not letting the same thing happen to you.”
She’s right. Your father died shortly after you were born so your mom was the protector. There was an invasion one night and she wasn’t able to protect herself against the intruder. She died fighting to save you. Alex sees evil every single day, and it would break her heart if you weren't prepared for the worst.
“Fine, I’ll go,” you sigh.
“Good. It’s at two. Don’t be late.”
“I won’t.”
The morning is filled with reality TV, and the early afternoon is when you prepare to go to this lesson. What should you wear? A dress might be too much so you pick out a nice pair of jeans and a loose shirt. Once ready, you leave the house and head over to the shooting range. You’re not sure who from her team is going to be teaching you. You’ve never met them but you do know them by name. David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, and Spencer Reid. You don’t think Rossi or Hotch will teach you so it has to be either Derek or Spencer.
The shooting range is empty, probably due to Alex’s influence. She wanted whoever is teaching it to focus on you the whole time.
“Hello? Anyone here?”
“In the back!”
You walk to the back and see a tall and slender man putting away supplies. From Penelope’s use of the phrase “Chocolate Thunder” (thanks to Aunt Alex repeating it several times), you know this is Spencer Reid. Spencer turns and you’re immediately floored by how attractive he is. You’ve met your fair share of men and have hooked up with more than one of them, but Spencer is on a whole other level.
This is a man right here. You’re into older men, too. You’re not sure how old he is but he can’t be more than thirty-five.
He walks over to you with a smile. “Hi, I’m Spencer Reid. Alex said you were coming over.” No words are coming out so you just nod instead. “Have you ever shot a gun before?” Again, you can only shake your head. “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you.”
He takes you over to the area where you shoot and shows an array of guns on the table next to it. He picks up the smaller one and hands it over to you.
“Wow, this is heavier than I thought it was going to be,” you chuckle when you grab it.
“Yeah, don’t let that scare you. This is a very easy gun to use. First, safety.”
Spencer takes the gun from you and puts it on the table before grabbing a pair of earmuffs and safety glasses. You look up at him as he slides the earmuffs over your ears, and he looks into your eyes. He briefly looks down at your lips but it was so quick that you could have been imagining it.
“Does that fit well?”
Even through the earmuffs, his voice is like honey. You nod and he moves onto the glasses. He slides them on despite you having full capabilities of doing this yourself. You look down and the glasses slide off your face entirely, and you chuckle shyly. Both you and Spencer lean down to pick it up, and your hand bumps against his.
It was just a bump but that sends shockwaves through your body. Based on how Spencer is looking at you, you know he felt the same. This is different than any fling you had. You’ve never felt this type of attraction toward another man.
“Sorry,” you whisper.
“It’s okay.” He grabs the glasses. “Let me get another pair.” Spencer leaves and returns with a smaller pair. “Are those okay?”
“Better,” you smile.
“Okay, take the gun and turn the safety off.” You pick up the gun and flip the little switch. Spencer steps closer to you, so close that you can feel his body heat behind you. Butterflies flutter in your stomach but you try to ignore them. “Here, hold it like this.”
He reaches around you and fixes the way you hold the gun. He has to press himself closer to your back, and you silently thank Aunt Alex for setting this up for you.
“Am I holding it right?” you ask.
“Yes.”
His breath is hot against your neck, and you swear you can feel your panties dampening a little bit.
“Now what?”
“Shoot.” You aim at the target in front of you and shoot three times, all of the bullets not hitting the target but on the paper outside of it. “Okay, next time, don’t close one eye. That actually doesn’t help.”
“Okay,” you chuckle. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Try again. This time, try to aim for the heart.”
You aim at the target but freeze when you feel Spencer’s hand sliding up your arms and down to your waist. How can you think about this when all you can think about is his hands on your body? You shoot the target twice, both of the bullets hitting the target. However, one hit his leg and the other hit his hand.
“Better?”
“Yeah, a bit. Are you sure you’ve never shot a gun before?”
“Never.”
“For a first-timer, you’re doing a lot better than other newbies.”
“Thanks,” you smile. “I just have a really great teacher.”
Spencer spends the next thirty minutes teaching you how to shoot multiple different guns. By the time you’re done, the sexual tension is high. Spencer steps back from you and you regret not failing more just so you can feel his body against yours.
“Okay, I think that’s enough for today. I do think you might benefit from one more lesson. Are you free next week?”
“Yes,” you say too quickly. “I mean, I can make that work. Just let me know.”
“Great.”
Spencer removes your glasses and then your earmuffs while staring into your eyes the whole time. The tension between you two is like a boiling pot of water. It’s going to overflow any second now, and you can’t wait to see what will happen when he snaps. He looks down at your lips and you lick them slowly, and that seems to be the tipping point.
He grabs your waist and pulls you into him before slamming his lips on yours. You immediately wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. He hooks his hands under your thighs and lifts you up with ease, setting you on the small table so you’re up to his height. Spencer slides his tongue along your bottom lip, but he kisses his way down your jaw to your neck instead of licking inside your mouth.
“Alex is going to kill me,” he mutters between kisses.
“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” you moan.
Spencer pulls back and kisses you once again. If you knew this was waiting for you, you would have taken lessons a lot sooner.
x
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#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid angst#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds angst
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DPXDC: I wanna be like most girls ghosts.
or Danny: What should I do to make my mom happy?
or ~Danny deserves a little teenage rebellion as a treat~
Maddie: I just want this damned Phantom to stop pretending to be a hero! All ghosts are pure evil, who is he trying to deceive? Danny: Oh, really? And Danny took it personally.
It’s not Danny’s fault that he’s a good kid and wants to make his parents happy. But why would he have to be a monster to make them happy? Why must they hate him to be happy?
Danny’s obsession was going crazy.
Well, when your own parents call you a monster in the face, it hurts. Why do they always believe that only their opinion is the absolute truth? They have no idea how much worse things would be if at least some of the ghosts really behaved the way Maddie and Jack think they’re supposed to. If he really is evil by nature, is there any point in fighting his own fate? They want to see him as a villain, he will become one. He will. He just needs a little help and practice. And not bring it to the level when Clockwork has to clean up his mess. Poor guy is without a vacation for how long? Couple of millennia?
Johnny 13: Sup. Danny: F*ck off, Johnny, I’m not in the mood. Busy thinking about world domination. Get out of here or I’ll call Kitty. Johnny 13: What’s wrong? You’re usually so grouchy only towards the end of the week. Danny: Nothing. Just parents. Again. They are wonderful but I can’t help but feel sometimes that they, em… Johnny 13: Suck? Danny: Right…Damn. I’m a terrible son. Maybe something is wrong with me. Johnny 13: What? No, no, dude. You’re just growing up. And you’re a little late, usually teenagers go through that stage before they graduate. Well, you’ve probably been busy with other issues, so just missed it. Danny: I wonder whose fault it is. Aren’t there ghosts who enjoyed to ruin my life in the middle of school day?
Johnny 13: Oh, bother. Anyway, you’re entering a beautiful time of emancipation, where you’re going to shape your own view of life and, along the way, to get drunk on cheap alcohol at parties, maybe to go to jail and to become the greatest disappointment to your family..And then you will be ashamed to remember it for about the next ten years. Danny: Well, it looks like I’ve already done two out of three additional things. Great success. Johnny 13: When did you get drunk? Danny: I didn’t. Johnny 13: Oh. Want to fix that? Danny: What? No. What an idiot wants to add a headache to his problems? Johnny 13: Well, your loss, then I’ll go terrorize the bars of Gotham alone and no one can stop me. Let’s see what your boyfriend will say about it. ~~~~~ Danny: Bartender, another shot of Dead Man’s Fingers, please. Red Hood: Babe, haven’t you had enough? Danny: Have you ever felt that no matter how hard you try, no matter how many sacrifices you make, in their eyes you’ll always be nothing more than a monster? Nothing more than a mistake? Oh, Death doesn’t give people like me a break. Red Hood: …I’ll have what he’s having. *gives the bartender a sign to switch the rum shots to a batburger milkshake for them, and starts talking to Danny so that he doesn’t understand Hood's scams*
~~~~~
Johnny 13: Other people’s kids are growing up so fast. It seems like yesterday he didn’t know how to shoot ectoblast, and now.. Kitty: Stop trying to make me feel bad, we’re leaving. Johnny 13: But the boy needs our support, honey boo!
~~~~~
Danny: I'm fine. Really, I am. This isn’t the first time mom’s called me a monster. She often called me that when she was upset with my behavior in my childhood. Huh, it's even funny. Jason: There’s nothing funny about that. Danny: No, you don’t understand. Looking back, I was really a very active child and didn’t know when to stop. Not surprisingly that I often annoyed my parents. They’re very busy people, and Jazz couldn’t always keep an eye on me. And I was often afraid to go to sleep alone because there were shadows in the darkness of my room. Well, I used to think they were. But I pretended everything was okay to not distract parents from work. Jason: Hey, it’s not your fault. You were a child. Obviously, kiddo requires a lot of attention, they must have understood that. You are the second child in the family, right? Danny: Well, Jazz was different. I don’t know. Anyway, I thought if the monsters behind the curtain and under the bed were just like me, well, according to my mom, you know, then they wouldn’t want to hurt me. And since they look after me, they are friends. So I kinda greeted all the suspicious noises and howls. Huh, I was a strange kid. Jason: If you smile at someone in the dark alley right now that someone is more likely to wet themselves or faint. Danny: Rude! I’m not that scary. Admit that I’m adorable. Do it right now. Jason: Stunning, darling. But still carry a gun and a knife, please. My childhood taught me that what's hiding in the dark is worth beating up. Danny: Come on, what should I be afraid of? Death? Anyway, I want to try this shit. Like, the inevitable one. Being a bad boy, you know? Hood *raises eyebrows*. Danny: Oh damn it man, I'm talking about ghostliness. I want to try to be like most of dead ones. I want to unleash my side of the trickster and the villain. But only a little bit. I have to be supervised so that things don't go too far. Would you help me, honey?
~~~~~2 hours later~~~~
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~~~~~
Goons used to expect a lot of weirdness from working with the boss.
Sometimes Bruce Wayne would go into their base and yell at the Red Hood like he's one of his kids. Of course Wayne's well-known as 'Gotta adopt them all' but the guy must really suffer from insomnia to count the Red Hood into his brood of chicks several times. Sometimes the boss would fight Robin or Nightwing over differences in morals…or for biscuits. It varied from moment to moment. Sometimes the boss caught the local street children, fed them and taught them to steal correctly. And most of the foundlings stayed with them under their protection.
To make a long story short, Red Hood is not the typical crime lord that some of them had to deal with before. Which is a blessing. Thanks Lord for the health insurance. But still the crime lord. Which means he's still scary, and sometimes deadly.
Anyway, when the boss brought in a guy who looked more civilian than any civilian in the whole Gotham and said he was going to be their intern, they thought it was a joke at first. Despite the fact that Hood was not in the habit of joking while working.
The teenager was too well-mannered and sweet to come from Crime Alley. Phil thought the guy was gonna run when he saw the first murder, Jessica didn’t think the domestic boy wouldn’t chicken out at the sight of a fight. But arguing with a boss’s orders in their profession is like asking for a bullet in the head, so these conversations were taking place outside of their boss's sight. God, how can they teach him anything? What do you take from a boy who’s only good to do the coffee run? Fenton will fall if they’ll give him something heavier than 10 pounds. And then boss will yell at them because he treats the new guy like a princess on a pea. Well, at least that’s what they thought until the boss decided to give the new guy his own assignments:
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~~~~~
Red Hood: So, what have you learned during your internship, my young Padawan? Danny: Well, it looks like I’m gonna suck at being a criminal mastermind. I think I may have to find myself some other profession. Red Hood: Come on, you just need a little more practice. Danny: Thank you but I don’t think that’s fit my obsession that good. Don't misunderstand me, I wanna be like most ghosts. But I was wrong to go to hit that goal only base on human stereotypes about my nature. Red Hood: What a pity. The newbies just learned not to flinch when you walk in. But, to be honest, I'm not gonna miss the adrenaline-boosting roller coaster of you at work. Danny: Oh, and I guess to hold on to the concept of humanity was really stupid too. I clearly no longer fit in and I’m finally ready to accept that. So, hopefully, if you get into trouble, you can rely on my ghostliness and call for help. I am the spirit of many talents and of my word. I can haunt your enemies or walk through the walls of Arkham Asylum. Whatever you need, I’ll be here. Red Hood: I’ll bear that in mind.
#dpxdc prompt#dpxdc au#dpxdc memes#dpxdc crossover#dc x dp#dp x dc#dpxdc#dcxdp#dead on main#dead on main ship#alcohol
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