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pocket-lad · 5 months ago

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Alan Grant interacting with borrowers lives rent-free in my head, I loved his interactions with Adelaide in your previous story! Awkward though he is lol, he’s trying! I’d love to see if you had more ideas with Alan and Adelaide, or perhaps even another tiny! I can’t get enough of him 💕 Love your work, will definitely be back! 💞💞

I ADORE Alan interacting with borrowers. What an odd, awkward man.

Alan wiped the sweat from his brow, the dry Western heat getting to him, and it wasn’t even midday yet. He wasn’t as young as he used to be, and no matter how much he loved being out in the field, it wasn’t exactly easy. Paleontology was a slow, hard business.

He delicately lifted a rock from its position on the ground and set it out of the way. He returned his gaze to the spot it had been and his jaw dropped.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he mumbled, looking around as if this was some kind of joke. In the divot left behind by the rock sat one of the smallest people he’d ever seen. It was a borrower. And they were terrified of him.

“Ellie!” he called, making the borrower flinch.

A pang echoed in his heart when he remembered Ellie wasn’t there. She gave up dinosaurs after their experience at Jurassic Park. He couldn’t blame her, but he sure did miss her. And he could really use her help right now. She was the only other person he knew who knew of the existence of tiny people, and he found that she was much better at talking to them than he was. At least, she was with Adelaide. Alan couldn’t say he met any more tiny people after her.

He stared intently at the poor, huddled creature, wracking his brain for what to do. Despite the heat, it shivered like it was wintertime, and it looked like it had been out here for awhile. His presence probably wasn’t helping, but he couldn’t just leave it now.

Alan recounted every interaction he ever had with Adelaide. Admittedly, there weren’t many, but he had to find some useful information in there somewhere.

***

Having a frantic, small being on his neck wasn’t what he imagined, not that he could say he imagined something like this often. It was honestly just itchy. Every shift, every breath, left behind a faint tingle. Eventually, Alan couldn’t take it anymore. He reached for the spot and scratched at it. His hand barely grazed the small body on his shoulder.

Adelaide yelped and, overcompensating for the expected knock backwards, tumbled forward to get away. She flailed clean off Alan’s shoulder, but was able to grab a hold of the fabric of his shirt before she hit the hard Earth below. She hung there, breathing heavily.

She couldn’t let go. If she let go, she’d die. She couldn’t stay there. If she stayed there, he’d grab her or she'd either lose strength and fall and die. She couldn’t climb back up. That’s where she just was, and he tried to grab her. Adelaide’s arms strained.

Alan thought he lost the ability to breathe. Ten minutes in and he nearly killed the girl. But it wasn’t necessarily his fault.

Seeing her hanging there, arms shaking from the stress, he reached in to pluck her off his shirt.

Adelaide couldn’t see the fingers, but she could feel their presence through the heat they gave off. They closed in, each one looking to wrap around her and pry her away. What she did to piss them off, she couldn’t say, but they approached at an impossible speed.

She used the last of her strength to pull herself up into a curled position, if only to prolong contact for at least a few seconds. A screechy sound resembling “No!” came out of her mouth.

Alan’s fingers coiled around her, securing her limbs in place. Adelaide could feel the blood pounding through them as they tightened around her. The texture of his rough skin grated on hers, and she wished desperately she could pull away.

But the fingers stopped. Alan registered her scream and paused, then slowly uncurled his fingers. “What did I do?”

The thunderous rumble of Alan’s voice startled Adelaide. It was so close and so enveloping, it knocked her right off his shirt.

Alan easily caught her in a cupped palm, but before he could even bring her in sight to figure out what the heck was going on, she panicked and jumped onto his shirt again, clinging for dear life and pulling her legs away from his hand.

Absolutely baffled, Alan didn’t know how to proceed. He did not sign up for this. Adelaide was a marvel, yes, and he wanted to know everything about her, but he was deeply unequipped to deal with such a frightened little…thing. This time, he kept his hand underneath her when he spoke, since it seemed to startle her right off his shirt last time. At the last second, he also thought to lower his volume.

“Are you…can I…can I…help you?”

“No,” Adelaide called, tightening her jaw.

“Okay. Are you going to climb back up?”

Adelaide didn’t respond, trying to calm herself down.

Alan didn’t know how long he could do this. And he thought normal people were confusing.

“Why did you do that?” Adelaide’s voice warbled.

“I’m not…Do what?”

“Try to grab me!”

“When?”

“Just now!” Adelaide didn’t know how much longer she could hang on.

“I didn’t try to…You mean when I scratched my neck?”

Without a reply, impatient, and a little fed up, Alan gathered her into his hand and, just as he expected, she instantly tried to get away. The feeling of tiny limbs pressing on his fingers tickled, at least when he felt them. He had a suspicion that most of her efforts were going unnoticed.

Before she could get herself killed, Alan bent down and placed her on a log. In an effort to put distance between herself and the giant, Adelaide nearly backed right off the log, but caught herself just in time. Her eyes darted around in search of clues to his intentions. Or an escape route.

“I don’t really carry tiny people around, so you’ll have to forgive my…inexperience.”

Adelaide crossed her arms. “I’m not tiny.”

Alan paused, then decided to ignore what she said. He wasn’t going to waste time arguing about that. “You were moving. It itched. I scratched at it. I wasn’t grabbing you.”

“How was I supposed to know?”

“That never happens with Malcolm?”

“No,” Adelaide lied. “It’s hard to think straight when a hand two times your size comes barrelling at you on the top of a mountain.”

“Look, ah, Adelaide. Neither of us asked for this. But to get back, I’m gonna need you to trust me. Unless you want to walk?” After a beat of silence where Adelaide just shifted uncomfortably, he continued. “Can I ask you to trust me?”

“Can I ask you to not grab me?” she shot back.

“Can I ask you to stop moving so much?”

“Well can I ask you…” Adelaide needed the last word, but realized too late she had run out of things to say. Alan’s piercing gaze stayed trained on her while he waited for an answer. She didn’t know this man. She didn’t know his intentions and she didn’t know if she could trust him and she didn’t know if she could keep her fidgeting to a minimum. But what other choice did she have? “Yes. Yeah, you can.”

Alan held his hand out, but she stepped in the opposite direction. He sighed. “I’m not going to grab you.”

Adelaide nodded, hyping herself up to climb back on.

“Come on, before a hungry compsognathus wanders in,” he chuckled. Adelaide’s eyes went wide and she glanced around as if the animals were already there and ready to strike. That probably wasn’t the best joke for the moment.

She still hesitated before she stepped on, but they were back on track in no time. Alan did notice her efforts as she tried to keep still, even if they had little effect. This time, he resisted the urge to scratch.

When Malcolm first pulled Adelaide out on the helicopter, Alan thought it had to be some kind of animal or doll, or he was hallucinating. But she was very, very real, and very much a person. And somehow, the mystery and surprise of the impossibly miniscule person with Ian Malcolm had nothing to do with the mysteries and surprises of Jurassic Park. A million questions ran through his head, none of which he felt comfortable voicing aloud at the time. That moment shifted his worldview permanently, and he wasn’t sure if it was for the better or for the worse just yet.

Alan understood Adelaide’s trepidation to some degree. It was clear she was terrified of him, and even more so the kids, despite her insistence on hiding it. She was stuck in a world far too big for her, far away from home, relying on virtual strangers to keep her alive. How that loud, arrogant Malcolm character won her over, he had no clue.

But she also had to understand that out of all the present dangers, he should be the least of her worries, right? Alan had no ill will toward her, and he planned to get her back to safety just as he did himself and the kids. She had to know that to some extent. The faster she came to realize that, the easier this would be. Probably.

Adelaide shifted and his neck twitched. It was going to be a long, long trek back.

***

Okay.

Don’t invade their space. Don’t call them tiny. Don’t grab. Don’t mention hungry animals.

None of that advice seemed to apply here.

“Ah...hello,” he said awkwardly. The being jumped, but he persisted. “I’m Alan. Believe it or not, I’ve met sma-…people like you before.”

The borrower started to crawl backwards.

“Can I help you get somewhere?”

Nothing.

“Should I…put the rock back?”

Nothing.

He probably shouldn’t put the rock back. To have a giant drop a boulder near you could not be comforting. Comforting…How could he be comforting?

“It’s alright,” he said in a tone that couldn’t be any less soothing if he tried. Great. Smooth.

He needed to get this person out of here because if he didn’t, somebody else on the team was bound to find them, and while the interaction would probably go infinitely more smoothly than the one he was having right now, there was a small chance it would be much, much worse, and he couldn’t take that chance.

“It’s alright,” he repeated, in a tone that was marginally more soothing.

The rule was to not grab. Adelaide hated when anyone grabbed her, including Ian. Personally, Alan wanted nothing to do with that man ever again, but he would kill for his phone number right now. And phone service. If only to ask him what to do, or even better, ask Adelaide what to do.

As the minutes passed though, Alan desperately wanted to disregard the no-grab rule. It would freak the borrower out, probably for life, but he could get this over with and be on his way. But then he wouldn’t know which way to go, because at that point, there was no world in which the borrower would talk to him. He wished he never picked up the damn rock.

And so, Alan just sat there, He settled down in the dirt and got in the most comfortable position he could, which was not very comfortable. He was deeply aware of the passing time and how much of it he was wasting, but he wouldn’t budge until this borrower talked to him, or at least made some kind of decision.

Sometimes he would look off into the distance, sometimes he would look back at his crew, sometimes he would glance at the borrower. Every time he did, they shied away.

Patience is a virtue, he repeated to himself. Patience is a virtue, one that he was well practiced in. His job was to dig up dinosaur bones. If he could sit under the blazing sun for hours on end, only to come up with a singular stegosaur vertebra, and call that a wildly successful day, then he could sit with this tiny person who needed his help. But as time dragged on, it was clear his patience didn’t extend far beyond paleontology.

“What do you want?”

The voice was so faint, he almost didn’t hear it. Alan looked down at them and, again, they flinched back. “I want to get back to my job.”

“O - Oh, I-” They started to back away more frantically

Alan rubbed his forehead in frustration. “No, I didn’t mean…We're digging up dinosaur bones. You are in our direct path, and I’m trying to get you out of here before anyone else finds you…I met one of your kind a while back, so I know you would rather be anywhere else, and I’d love it if we could both continue on with our day, alright?”

“O - Okay.”

“Now, will you let me help you?”

“Okay.”

“Great,” Alan said as he offered his hand. They moved even further back, then looked up at him, searching his eyes for any kind of deceit. It was remarkable how similar they behaved to Adelaide when they were frightened, as if it was an ingrained behavior for the species.

They then studied his hand as if it was a trap waiting to spring closed. After a careful minute of consideration, they stepped on.

Alan wasted no time getting to his feet. “Where to?”

When he didn’t get an answer, he looked down. The borrower pointed north. Good enough for now.

The whole time, he could feel them trembling in his hand. He spouted off comforting words - “It’s alright, it’s okay, you’re doing great” - but he couldn’t seem to muster even an ounce of emotionality, so he doubted his words had any effect.

“Okay,” they said again after some time.

“Is that all you can say?” Alan chuckled. The joke didn’t seem to land. “Is this it?”

He looked around. The area was a bit busier than the dig site - more rocks, more plants, hillier terrain. He didn’t see any sign of civilization, but then again he probably wasn’t supposed to. This only made him more curious, but he knew not to snoop, unless he wanted to freak the small people out beyond repair.

The borrower nodded in response to his question. Wasting no time, Alan set them down. Before his hand even touched the ground, they were off, sprinting toward a pile of rocks. Not once did they look back.

Alan stayed crouched as he watched them go, baffled by the interaction and by the last hour of his life. He watched until they disappeared, then stood up, brushed himself off, and unceremoniously headed back to camp.

What did he know? He knew that there were more borrowers than just Adelaide, and that they were apparently pretty widespread. He knew that some lived indoors while others lived outside. He knew they didn’t like humans, regardless of their experiences with them. He wondered if the little guy would tell their borrower family and friends about him. The image made him laugh.

It was a privilege to be able to witness life at a smaller scale, to witness something most people didn’t know existed or didn’t know was even possible. Alan would remain intrigued by them probably for the rest of his life, but personally, he’d be happy if he never had to have an interaction like that ever again. He should call Ellie.

#ask #anonymous #Adelaide and Ian chronicles #jurassic park g/t #jurassic park #alan grant #size difference #gt #prompt #I want to write more of Alan so bad what a weirdo

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lucalicatteart · 2 years ago

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Poll adventure (paventure? lol) Day 12: read the small story tidbit below the poll for more details, OR just vote based on initial impression

(✦ see past poll results + further information HERE (link) ✦)

Yesterday's poll decided that The Adventurer should rest for the night in an abandoned barn ...

Somewhat nervous about being out in the woods alone at night, he decides to try finding a more hidden sleeping spot, further off from the path. Though with his injuries, and his exhaustion, he knows he shouldn't walk too far. He tells himself that he'll just adventure a little, only an hour or so, and if he can't find anything better by then, he'll just give up and set a tent in some bushes somewhere......

After 30 minutes, he finally stumbles across an old barn. He can't see it very well with just a trickle of moonlight and the dull glow of his flickering lantern, but it seems to have not been used for many years. Structurally sound enough (at least he hopes), yet shrouded in moss and blankets of various overgrowth.. It takes a few moments to pluck away all of the ivy blocking his path, but he soon closes the rickety doors behind him to focus on the interior. There's no space to light a fire or set up a real tent, and he'll have to block a few holes in the walls so wild animals don't sneak in, but, there are a few surprisingly clear looking sections scattered amongst all the musty hay bales and cobwebs. He chooses a "cozy" spot in the corner, hidden behind a few dusty crates. Though he tosses about uncomfortably in his bedding for quite a while, he's eventually able to fall into a peaceful sleep.….....

.. Suddenly, he's startled awake by rustling, catching a dark blurred movement in front of him. He's smart enough to always sleep wearing his backpack over his chest so nobody could just grab it without him noticing, but it seems for the first time in all his travels... someone is actually trying to. Still half asleep, he clings to the bag and yelps, pushing and tumbling away into a moldy wooden barrel after an initial struggle. He pulls himself up to face the hooded figure now looming above him, entirely obscured aside from their vague cloak-ish shape outlined by the faint moonlight behind them.. The Adventurer calls out in a shaky attempt at an aggressive tone, "Wh-wh.. whAT are YOU DOIng? WHo-whu..UHHH??? aahhhG" "Give me the bag." The hooded figure speaks in a smooth, stern, yet calm voice, slowly taking a step forwards. The cat scrambles to The Adventurer's side, hissing and giving a low growl.. "w-WELL , uh,, sORRY , n-NO , I would rrrather not DO THAT, I h-- I uh-- I don't have even anythi- I don't even have ANYTHING, I mea- wh-wh HWaAt d-do I look RICH to you?? EUggh-" he gulps loudly, holding back nervous vomit, "B-BACK OFF!! you-.. f- uh.. THIEF!!!!!" The hooded figure pauses for a moment, as if re-strategizing how to approach the situation. "Look, kid, I don't want to hurt you. But I need you to give me that egg." "WHWh-what egg? I-I don.. DON'T have an EGG, I'm uh…aCTUALLY a-allergic to eggs, s-sso-" "The egg that's in a wooden box. In your bag. Don't waste your time bullshitting me.. Come on, let's make this quick." The hooded figure extends their arm, motioning to be handed the egg. Still desperately fighting not to throw up everywhere, The Adventurer simply sits on the floor, staring up at the hooded figure blankly as he tries to think.. Is he seriously being robbed for the first time? Is that like, a cool milestone, or a bad one? He's read about it in adventuring books before but... the reality feels so much different.. How can he get out of this? Strategies scatter through his mind, but he's too shaken to find any clear answers.. What should he do?

Additional Information

the adventurer's current main quest: follow his map to reach the abandoned castle ruins and see the rare animal specialist about the mysterious egg he has

#paventure posting #poll #polls #choose your own adventure #for the record - if he had gone to the stranger's cottage. walked all the way to the villiage. or kept walking all night. the hooded figure #wouldnt have had a safe place to corner him and would have had to wait for another day. all the other options #(abandoned barn. sleep out in the woods. etc.) would lead to the same thing #The dice lady was letting him know someone has been following him. perhaps multiple someones #I was also going to include the options 'threaten to blow up the entire barn with magic and then nobody gets the egg'#and an option for him to just throw the egg on the ground and break it #but those seem more out of character and also breaking the egg would end his quest anyway since he would have nothing #to bring the Innkeeper's brother anymore lol #also a 'tell the cat to attack the robber' option but I was afraid too many people would choose that thinking it was #funny or a cool way out of the situation when like.. realistically the cat would get hurt actually and I don't want to endanger them #or have to write about them getting harmed lol. WHICH I know is a choice. I could be like 'wow the cat is actually a #magical cat and they explode the person and win hooray!' . but it feels too far fetched given the hooded stranger's background #they're not going to be like completely incapacitated by one small cat #things must be goofy and silly and fantasy but also.. underlying realism to an extent #I held back on not making him get more injuries after sailing down a river in a dinky little raft because I really think thats probably #quite dangerous hjknjk. I stated it was a very slow moving river specifically to make it seem a little more plausible but #I feel like in real life the current would just smash your raft into a rock in like 10 minutes lol #ANYWAY.. uh oh. boy in danger!#he can get out of it though. I believe in him #somehow an unskilled swagless penniless nervousboy can still make his way in the world #(he does have SOME skills ghhgh.. just like. not really adventuring suited ones. since he just started adventuring like #less than a week ago and has no training or practical experience aside from reading a lot of storybooks)#also I know his belt thing is on the wrong shoulder... shhhh... I still don't feel good and drew very quickly and am not #going back to make changes lol

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wroteclassicaly · 3 years ago

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May I Taste Your Sin

(Michael Langdon x Female Reader)

Pairings : Michael Langdon x Female Reader

Warnings : Language, smut, blood, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, blood play, & period sex.

A/N : This fic has been a loooong time coming! I’m sorry it’s taken me this long, but now that I have inspo I wanted get this out for y’all! The warnings are obviously self-explanatory, so skip this if you don’t like the contents it’s gonna contain! Michael Langdon eats human hearts, and he’s a demon, before anyone starts to fuss over this, lol. I’m sure menstrual cycles with his partner would be a dessert to him!

Enjoy! This one is pretty intense, so I’m nervous about it! I also have more installments with different characters coming in the next few days! :)

Check out where I first posted the teaser for this fic, and check out these period sex headcanons I wrote for Michael!

~*~

He keeps staring at you. You try to move about, do your tasks, even attempt conversation with people you’d tried so hard to avoid these past several years. Your abilities to function like the human being that you are, seemingly vanish whenever the tall honey blond is within your exhausted proximities. You aren’t sure if you’d like to let out the loudest echoing scream and see where it ends up in this place, or let your wildest carnal urges guide your hormones into a literal sticky situation. Or, at the very least, let yourself fantasize about seducing him in your own self-created version of reality.

You’ll have to settle on the latter, unfortunately. Pocketing the cream colored dish rag, you place the last row of finely printed novels on the book shelve. Your fingertips linger, attempting to find a portal through their leather cover tops. Your tongue slicks your parched lips, neck stretching to crack out the tension. You aren’t trying to do anything but stealing some relaxation, when a largely hot hand is pressing a knot-out in a knead on your shoulder - clasping, settling a risky purchase.

You don’t have to make an educated guess to know whose hand that belongs to. He practically spews out his control and ownership of this place every chance that he gets. Biting down a venomous sigh, you coerce yourself into a turn around - gathering an eyeful of Langdon’s fancy black vest. That’s not good enough for the King, apparently, as he fits his pointer finger underneath your chin in a tuck, thumb pressing against your jaw to tilt your gaze to his own.

“Did you forget your manners, Miss Y/L/N?”

The way his shining eyes are sizing your attention, captivating your unwillingness to comply to how Langdon makes you feel - it can’t be humanly possible, can it? There’s that possessive ache that begs you to launch ownership over him and his entire body. Why is everything so widely dramatic whenever he’s around? Is he just full of himself or is it something way more than you’re aware? A crackling parch winds its pathway around your throat, sealing your breath in.

Nothing comes from between your lips. You’re frozen solid, legs a weightless press. Each touch this... man brings upon your body is like a bass thump - pumping you towards his secretive rhythm. All you can do is sway with the beat. Langdon smirks coyly, his other hand resting behind his back in an idle grace.

Neither of you dare utter a word. However, Langdon is seemingly content in making you squirm and you try to focus on everything but his perfectly crafted jawline, and how eagerly you’d suck on it if asked. You swear you can hear your heartbeat galloping off, so strong that it can tear your heart right out of your chest along with it. His colorful eyes glance over you in a brief stamping sweep, lingering at your sore breasts and your waistline.

What is he even doing...?

“Excuse me, but Ms. Venable did not authorize any private conferences with the help.” A cold and steel - grasped voice chills your bones down, dusting your cheeks with a reddening humiliation.

You haven’t even so much as spoken to Langdon, yet it feels like you two have been clawing and scratching at each other all over this fucking outpost, riding one another until you can’t fathom walking upright. You still can’t speak, but Langdon takes care of that for you.

“Interesting, and did Ms. Venable give you permission to waltz in here when you weren’t requested or required, just to give a meaningless order?” Langdon is mildly amused in his question, his hand still paused on your chin, thumb now swiping in a tickling drop with his fingertip - along your jaw.

Ms. Mead looks comical in her brief attempt at forming a snappy comeback, only to go silent in defeat. You take this tension as your escape line - quickly edging from the sacred confines Langdon has built for you two, and you all but run out the door. You’re clutching your shirt collar, punching a two pounce path up the staircase and to the help’s quarters.

Chores now, panic later.

~*~

Five minutes. Five fucking minutes in this place that you’ve served without question, complaint, for nearly two years - is all you want. But as the heavy handed rasps of Mead’s knuckle bones beat on your bathroom door, you know that is a simple pipe dream. Her low voice is harsh with you, making your headache unfold into a full blown migraine. You shift uncomfortably, knees knocking together, thighs sore against the cool porcelain seat below you.

Langdon must’ve massively pissed her off... Good.

Your palms collect purchase to your cradle your face, your eyes glistening with tears, throat burning with frustration. It hurts too much to stand upright this time. Normally women would lose this in stressful situations. Add the apocalypse and barely eating, you’d peg it normal to receive nothing. However, your predicament is much worse, fucking you over once more.

Your body welcomes Mother Nature each month. Unpredictable, yet there. Heavy, excruciating. You could list on and on reasons that don’t amount to much. You’re stuck with a part of you that won’t ever come to fruition.

Not in your former life, especially not in this one. Another reminder that carries an award winning irony. Sighing, you peer down at the red dish rag you were given. Literally on the rag, what a joyous harmony. The elites of course, are given the tampons and pads.

You have to use scraps of fabric you’re forced to wash in the bathtub if you move too fast or sneeze. And on your heavy days when you haven’t the time to stop your duties to wash and air out the towels, things are much harder. At least before the apocalypse you had chocolate, feminine products, a warm shower to take your time in, movies to curl up with, and a place of your own to cry where no one could hear you. You sniffle, hormones locking down your heart.

Most recently the outpost had welcomed the cooperative leader Langdon. He had interviewed everyone but you, uninterested, only flustering you a few times. Him being here just makes your period a more unwelcome storm. This morning as you were passing him on the landing of the staircase, delivering the bath towels to elite rooms, he stared at you. Right into you, nostrils flaring, tongue rolling out to slick his plump lips, blue eyes darkening.

Then there was this afternoon. How could I forget...?

The encounters were over quicker than they took place. Still, his acknowledgment of you didn’t bring your interview, nor did it promise your application for the sanctuary he preaches about. Forcing your tears to bank, you stand with your dress skirt and apron held up, staring at the stained rag in your panties. You turn and flush the toilet, eating back around to the shock of your fucking life. There, just feet in the from the doorway, is Langdon in all his glory.

It makes you swallow harshly, stomach drawing off the butterflies that have grown claws. You feel winded. His ring covered fingers bring an object to your sights. A thinly wrapped stick. You don’t answer, you don’t move, you don’t protest him approaching until he’s directly in front of you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You try, a mere whisper betraying your bravery.

“Helping you,” He answers simply, a heated slide crossing his mouth. You can practically taste him, damn near swaying forward.

You start to snap back into your senses, ready to cover your remembered modesty back up. He grasps your wrist, a hungry look soft in his features. “Will you let me?”

You’re shaking, body on fire at him touching you, you try to keep your legs from clenching, that want. You know what will occur if you let yourself. He is gentle with you, admiration clear. Why? You don’t understand this.

“You’re bleeding, I know.”

Jaw unhinged, you stand upright, his fingers still ghosting your skin. An unlucky movement on your part, the warmth spills from you and you look down between your thighs in horror at the red lines running down your legs, pattering against the floor. Langdon is breathing heavily, practically panting, stunning you once more. His other hand grips your cheek, thumb swiping your lip, eyes not breaking contact from yours.

“Do you know how good your cunt smells? Every pathetic person in this outpost is starving and you have the best meal between your fucking legs.”

When your silence stretches on, Michael nudges forward, careful with you. “May I feast?”

It’s all too much to handle. Having him talk to you, you speaking to him. And now this? How? You begin to grow dizzy, hands trembling as you try to pull your clothing back up. Langdon’s hands grip your wrists.

“Please don’t do that.”

You want to stun him incredulously, backhand him. None of that is happening, not even the urge. Instead, your want for him is magnifying beyond any feigned ignorance. Your tongue slides out across your lips, teeth biting down on your bottom lip in a brisk chew. Langdon hooks his middle finger between your teeth, releasing your lip and combing the blood across in a coppery gloss.

Your chest is startled, rising and falling in quivering quakes, ears hearing a static rush. Everything inside of you is alive and crying out in need to be sated. Langdon grips you around the waist, lowering his forehead to rest atop your own, his middle finger - still doused in your blood - slithers past his own lips, which close in a sticky suckle. A vibrating moan pummels his throat, causing a constricting swallow that showcases his Adam’s apple.

If I could only just lick that...

Langdon is sly and devilishly cunning to a fault - fast in his next movements. He presses a designer boot down over your skirts, successfully preventing them from being made up. “Leave them here for someone else.”

“I... I can’t. This is too much, Langdon —“ He chuckles at the formality.

“Since I can see your womanhood running from between your legs, I suppose it’s only fair that we skip some formalities, don’t you agree, Y/N?” Your eyes are probably wider than necessary - a cartoon like sight. He’s used your full name in an authoritative command, leaving no room for question. “And you may call me Michael.”

It’s all a little more frantic from this point. He gives the slightest of information, and you see your skirts and panties gliding across the floor in a winded push. Michael brings that wrapped item back into your eye-line. “We won’t be needing this for a while.”

“I didn’t say yes.” You try, swallowing a weak, whimpering stifle.

“But you didn’t say no, did you?” That shit eating grin. He has you and he is all too aware - elated to the brimming brimstone of hellfire you’re about to bestow upon yourself.

Your insides melt into the trenches of red hot, raw ravishment. Michael drops his left arm down, hand palming his hardening cock through black slacks, eyes encouraging you in a chained bind. “Let’s go and make a mess in my room.”

Now or never. No more of this, back to reality, maybe some place better. You’re spinning in a foiling encasement, precipice wide and open - hungry to pull you under. And you dive in, you let it all go. Michael looks satisfied, sharing something with himself that you don’t know... yet.

Taking Michael Langdon’s hand, you’re led into the unknown.

~*~

Langdon leads you down his own separate corridor, your free hand scolded for trying to hold yourself over your uniform.

“I want you to make a mess.” Michael says.

You hope that you’re not the one who will be paying the cost for your own said mess, or cleaning it up. If it’s up to Venable - you’ll be licking it, all the way to her high heeled boots.

Once inside the confines of Michael Langdon’s bedroom, you take the time to look around, enjoying the perks this situation is bringing. The room isn’t any different than what the purple elites get here, it is bordering on a more... lived in feel, which is ironic when you consider that Langdon hasn’t been here like everyone else has for the past three years.

Guess he’s just more comfortable? He does look like an English vampire half the time..

On that note, a particularly harsh cramp antagonizes your uterus, causing you to clench your abdomen, choking out a acidic slice. “Fucking demonic cramps.”

Michael - now clad in his all black ensemble, minus the overcoat - chortles, knotting his fingers together behind his back and strolls forward, wetting his lips as the firelight crackles a sparking soundtrack. “It’s ironic how you refer to it as “demonic”, when Satan really has nothing to do with this. I mean, it’s not on him that humanity failed their pitiful guidelines for sobering temptation. Wasn’t it your lord and savior that bestowed this curse upon you?” He finishes, giving a head tilt to your unhinged stun.

“Are you religious?” Is all you can come up with.

Michael sneers, looking slightly offended. It fades seconds later. “Depends on your definition of religious, and then there is what one believes in. But I guess you can say that I’m devoted to... a certain cause.”

“Were you this mysterious before the apocalypse, or is that why the cooperative gave you the job?” You try, a discomfort crackling at your inner thighs.

They’re probably smeared... And not just with blood.

“I bet you’re uncomfortable.” Michael teases, snapping his fingers at the fireplace. Did your eyes betray you, or did the flames flicker?

You want to give a snappy comeback, but it feels unwise. You nod like the sap that you are, nails biting your palms. Your heartbeat has begun to accelerate, a visible sight beneath your apron. Langdon guides himself to step in front of you, leather shoes drumming across the floor beneath. Every sound in this forsaken room is flowing through your eardrums - Michael’s scent on the tip of your tongue.

You need him. More than your body has to have the air that filters underneath this mausoleum. You’re so unsteady, eyes brimming with the smoking arousal, blocking common sense. Michael catches you as you collide with his chest, wrapping your fists into his vest. His blue irises are disappearing to a canyon of night sky - lavish black so sinful that it steals the breath from your lungs.

Drizzling off your tongue is a hesitation. “Won’t we get into trouble...? Venable -“ Those rough fingertips hold a softness that hushes your lips, denting.

“Can watch me with my face buried into your cunt. The humiliation will arouse her.” Michael answers in his own finish.

You aren’t sure why, but that grates your mouth into a sneaky grin, shared with Michael’s, sensing that slapping throb at his phrases. He pinches your chin, nuzzling your head to the side, his lips sloping a map across your neck. His towering physique backs you by knocking his knees into your thighs, delivering you to the edge of his bed. You drop like wild weights, looking towards the ceiling, trying to take a deep inhalation. Langdon crouches, pants rustling as they tighten around his temptingly thick thighs.

He tuts in a scold, chiding you furthermore. “You will watch what I’m getting ready to do to you! Is that clear, Y/N?”

You don’t answer fast enough, Michael’s hand wrapping around your throat, eyes burning hellfire through you - dusting your bones to ash. Your throat is wet with the clingy, unshed tears. Fuck, you have to be filled up until you’re hollowed out. Michael is languid in grace, hand toppling into your lap, joining his other.

“Take down your hair, Y/N.”

Like a puppet, you obey your new owner. Unwrapping the pointed bun, you shake your locks free, sighing in an eased tickle.

“What a good and obedient girl that you are. Those who obey, shall reap the riches.”

“Why are you doing this?” An ignorant question on your part.

“Because,” As if it’s the most simple answer in this broken world, Michael let’s his hands start to unbutton his vest, carelessly sending it, his attention not wavering off you in the slightest. “I’m hungry.”

A literal moan comes from you, making Langdon hiss through his through his milky white teeth. He resumes his former position, hovering.

“Spread.” Michael says, a quaint wonder adorning him, his palms sliding up and down your legs to feel you part them. The blood is mixing some fucked out potion with your creamy arousal for him, and he knows it, has it right into your tremble from the exposure.

Your skin is steaming in scrapes, responding so vulgarly to Michael, that he is hooking his wrists under your knees, bouncing the flesh into his awaiting hands, and claiming. He hoists your legs over his shoulders to arch you to his idea of perfection. You should be protesting, in a shambled shyness. That is gone, no place here. Michael let’s his nose rest in the crease of your thigh, crudely sniffing like some beast.

His sopping tongue finds a striking stroke along your ruby red, damp thigh.

Closer... He’s getting closer...

When you can’t feel that warm and snide air he possesses, you lock to load a question. Michael is shedding himself of his remaining clothing in a cocky crawl. His hair curtains his face as he sees you seek out his cock - thick and heavy, weighted and wet with pre-cum.

“Finish taking off your clothing.” You’ve never done something so fast in your years alive.

You have to admit, being so vulnerable like this - naked and bleeding, it has you buzzing.

Michael outstretches a veined forearm, the back of his rings swirling in desiring dances across your breasts. “Do these hurt?”

Your lashes are slicked in perspiring tears, the tired soreness harassing your chest. He has his truth. His trim form bows to you once more, placing your legs back where they belong. He knuckles a pressing push into your abdomen. “Bear down.”

It isn’t an accident this time, it’s not a discreet secrecy. Michael wants you this way. All of you. Finding a confidence, you give yourself a high and sink your fingers into his hair, toes tickling his shoulder blades in a forwarding nudge, doubling down on your muscles. That warmth spills out of you and Langdon takes you, tongue parting your swollen folds. He regulates his tongue in wet paints, licking and sucking everything you give him.

“Please—“ You’re already begging. It’s so fucking intense and intimate that you can’t formulate your own damned name.

“Are you really going to ask, or would you just like to feel good?” Michael vibrates, his mouth visible and shining crimson as he seeks you out between your slippery thighs.

It’s outright feral. His irises are coal black, blue lost in some combing canyon that’s crumbled around sin. His digits prod at your sensitive opening, being accepted moments later. His lips close over your clit, tongue slithering back and forth to assist his beckoning fingers. He gathers more from you - his purpose.

That quenched fold starts to seize you early on, your pattering breaths signaling the orgasm that is about to tear the screams from your fucking diaphragm. Michael’s hand smacks and rolls your swollen breast - permission granted. That’s all it takes and you’re falling back onto the mattress, back arching in a lined drag, pussy flattening against his mouth. He jerks you impossibly closer, your vision whiting out into dark spots. You tangle your fingers further into his luscious strands, holding, pulling.

In the midst of close recovery, Michael is plowing you with a short lived let down, his mouth leaving your pussy. You can’t complain, no time available, as his hips slot in a frazzled fit between your legs. His pelvis is tense, sheathed in sweat. His chest smashes your breasts, his hand reaching down to guide his cock inside you. You can’t speak, but cling tightly to his back. He growls a sound that you’ll never forget, the fire bursting behind him, flames licking the rocked cove that houses them.

His mouth is covered in your essence, your cunt bathing his dick with each violent thrust. It’s pouring in drenches, salty perspiration, pooling blood - both of you losing yourselves in the mess. Michael props himself up, digging into a dipping slam, meeting your mouth in an ending kiss. His hair tickles your shoulders, nose nudges your now blood caked mouth, and he gives the warning.

“Spill your fucking curse all over me!” And you come undone, glued to him in puzzled entrapment.

Your thighs are wrecked, his bedsheets useless, and then there’s Michael, who forces you to look at him and really see him. There’s only black in his eyes. You sputter a disbelief, bracing. His mouth parts, tongue flicks across to gather more, leveling off into his jagged movements. He swells inside your cunt, dousing your walls in his warm cum.

He doesn’t leave you, not even when it’s over. He simply takes you with him. You aren’t sure where you get the courage to speak - body shaking and shivering.

“What... Michael, who are you?”

He cups a hand over your cunt, rolling onto his side, keeping you held to him. He lightly blows away a pesky lock of your hair, then maneuvers another behind your ear.

“I’m the man who’s going to save your wretched existence.”

Tag list : @littledemondani @dark-mei-rose @fckinsupreme @angelicmichael @icylangdon @ritualmichael @sojournmichael @celestialrequiem @instinctsxbaby @infernwetrust @ferndolan @9layerdevilfoodcake @bloodcoatedeclipse @wormycircumstance @antichristsxbox @xavierplympton @xavierplymptons @ramona-thorns @lovelylangdonx @langdxn @codyarchives @dailylangdon @codyfernuk @langdonsjoyy @7-wonders @blakescoven @holylangdon @bitchchatter @suspiriva @taskmastter @kitty4860 @ladynuwanda @langdonsexual @sammythankyou

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mikkomacko · 3 years ago

Note

So not sure if you’re going to understand this but here’s my idea: the team not knowing that the reader is dating both Bucky and Steve (Stucky) and they confront her and say some awful things like she’s using them, a cheating wh*re etc. and she just starts crying and runs and locks herself in their room (or whatever you’d like). Then Stucky comes back or out from somewhere looking for her and then they ask the team and the team tells them that she was “cheating” on both of them with each other and then they’re like no we’re all dating each other and the team feels all bad and you can end it how you want lol. You don’t have to do this and sorry if it’s bad.

A/n: Sorry it took so long! Hope it's ok! <3

Two Avengers dating would cause enough gossip in itself, but three Avengers? Two of which have been best friends since the 40s? She can't imagine what kind of reaction that would get out of Sam or Nat who have always teased Steve and Bucky about being really good friends.

So when y/n, Bucky, and Steve made their relationship official, they kept it as low-key as possible. Anything beyond cuddling was reserved for the privacy of their rooms, flirting had to be subtle, and all dates were far from the Avengers compound.

They just had to pray they could follow the rules and keep their hands to themselves when others were around.

Drumming her fingers on the folder, y/n heads up HR to submit her latest mission report. It was simple surveillance mission, nothing exciting to report on but she'd been gone for over a week and wanted to get the report in asap so it could be done with. Dropping it off on the incoming desk, she promptly turns on her heel to head to lunch but is stopped just outside of the doorway by a hand on her bicep. She's tugged into the hidden corner before she can even react, two strong arms caging her against the cool wall.

Bucky, dressed for a training session, stands before her, blue eyes sparkling and lips smiling. Immediately, her guard falls, lips widening into a smile that reflects the same love shining through Bucky's.

"Careful Barnes," she teases, "next time I won't be so kind about ya pawing at me."

He clicks his tongue. "Wouldn't be pawing if you'd come to see me as soon as you got back."

"Paperwork waits for no one. Not even Cap and Sarge."

He sighs playfully. "Damn doll, that hurts. Think ya should kiss it better."

So she does. Cupping his jaw between two soft palms, y/n seals their mouths together in a tender kiss, completely blind to Bruce and Tony who have just caught sight of them from down the hall.

Bucky heads down to the gym and y/n heads to room to clean up before lunch, ignoring his pleas for her to join him. She's technically on recovery from her last mission and she's definitely going to milk that for a day off. She's approaching her door when one just down the hall opens, a familiar blond head of hair coming into view.

She pauses, leaning her shoulder against the doorway and smiles at him. "Hey Cap, fancy seeing you here."

He lifts his head, soft blue eyes meeting hers and he smiles that cute little smirk only Steve Rogers could smile. "Hey, heard you got back early this morning."

"Yeah, way early." She laughs, tilting her chin up as he moves closer.

"How'd it go?"

He stops in front of her, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head. It's his typical go-ahead-I'm-listening stance but by the way he's eyeing her mouth she knows he doesn't actually want to hear it right now. Steve always tries to hide the fact that he's just as clingy as Bucky.

"Is that really what you're going to ask me, Rogers? After being gone for so long you want my mission run down right now?"

He chuckles, dipping his head and lightly shaking it. "No not really."

"So what's your real question?"

Bashful, he meets her eyes again. "Can I have a hello?"

Y/n laughs, butterflies fluttering in her chest as she rises on her tiptoes to kiss him. He gently grips her waist, pulling her just the slightest bit closer and humming in content. She throws her arms around his neck, fingertips shifting into the hair at the base of his neck, once again too caught up in her boyfriend to notice Nat and Sam have just spotted them from the end of the corridor.

"You'll never believe what we just saw!" Sam shouts, hightailing it into the kitchen with Natasha hot on his heels. Bruce and Tony both startle in their seats at the table, water sloshing over the edge of Bruce's mug.

"Nuh-uh, we're first." Tony says, shaking his head.

"No we are." Sam insists, Tony opening his mouth to continue the argument but Natasha cuts him off.

"Rogers and y/n are together."

And that makes Tony and Bruce pause. Sam whoops proudly, smirking at the two as they share looks of confusion.

"Steve and y/n?" Bruce confirms, eyebrows pinching together when Nat nods firmly.

Tony sighs. "Well that puts us in a bit of pickle because we saw Barnes with his tongue down her throat."

Sam's jaw drops. "What? When?"

"Earlier today!" Bruce exclaims, motioning towards the HR department. "She was dropping off paperwork and he just grabbed her and kissed her."

"Well we just watched Steve pin her against a door and kiss her not even ten minutes ago." Nat exclaims, anger building up in her veins. "Which means we've got a problem."

Sam turns to her, just as angry. "Damn right we do!"

Bottom lip between her teeth, y/n attempts to hide the giddy smile that's been plastered on her face since her reunion with her boys. It's a weak attempt because she's practically as bright as a ray of sunshine but she doesn't really care. She's happy. She's so incredibly happy and she wants it to last forever.

Unfortunately for her, the feeling is cut short far too soon because as soon as she enters the kitchen, 4 pairs of eyes are glaring at her.

"Hey everyone," she says tentatively, slowing to a stop. "what's going on?"

Sam scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why don't you tell us what's going on?" He says coldly, "You know besides you macking on our friends."

Macking on his friends? Oh god, Steve and Bucky! They found out about their relationship...

Her jaw drops, cut-off guard. "Wait! I can explain-"

"Cheaters don't get an explanation." Nat cuts off, eyes mean and piercing. Y/n heart sinks into her stomach. Cheating? She'd never cheat in her life, especially not on Bucky and Steve.

"Cheating? I'm not-"

Tony rises from his seat. "Save it y/n. We know you're cheating on Bucky and Steve with each other. How could you do that? They're like brothers and your just using them-"

"No I'm not!" She insists, panicking under the hateful gazes. "You guys don't understand. Just let me-"

"No!" Sam cuts off. "Bucky and Steve have both gone through so much. Do you realize how difficult it must have been for them to open up to you? And you thew it all away. You hurt them. You're a bitch y/n, full honestly."

Tears sting her eyes. Sam's never said anything like that to her let alone anyone they know. He's always been so kind and welcoming so to hear such hurtful words from him has her stunned. She can't even think of anything to say to defend herself.

"Y-you really think that lowly of me?" She sniffles, "That I would do something like that?"

"We saw it, y/n." Banner responds, nose scrunched in disgust. "Now get outta here before we throw you out."

Insulted and insecure, she shakes her head. "I can't believe you all." Then she turns on her heel, running to the safety of her room.

Bucky's spotting Steve on the bench press when the foursome of Avengers walk in, somber looks on their faces.

"Steve," Bucky says, gaining his attention. Immediately the super soldier is setting down his weights, sitting up to look at their friends.

"What's going on? Is someone hurt?" Steve asks, rising to his feet. Sam shakes his head, smiling sympathetically.

"No one's hurt," he assures "but we've got something to tell you."

Bucky swallows nervously, something in him going on high alert. He knows that this is about y/n, that something's happened and it makes him anxious. Where is she?

"What?" Bucky asks, noticing the lingering anger in Nat's eyes.

"It's y/n," she says "she-"

"She what?" Bucky interrupts quickly, readying himself to sprint upstairs.

"She's cheating," Tony says, eyes flickering between the two men. "On you two. With each other."

Oh, Bucky wasn't expecting that. He turns to Steve, the two sharing a silent conversation between themselves. They know? Looks like it pal. How'd that happen? I told you to be careful...

"Don't worry, we already gave her a piece of our minds-"

"You what?!" Steve suddenly asks, finally realizing what they're saying. They think y/n cheated on them because they don't know they're all three dating each other. And they confronted her about it.

"What did you say?" Bucky asks lowly.

"The truth," Sam says proudly. "that she's a bitch for using you both."

Before anyone can react Bucky is rushing towards the doors, abandoning his belongings in favor of checking on y/n. Steve doesn't mind, knowing that when it comes to being emotional and open, Bucky is typically the one she leans on. He's good at being a comforting shoulder.

"Oh god Sam," Steve sighs. "Y/n isn't cheating-"

"Yeah-"

"No she's not!" He shouts, startling them. "She's not. For the past few months we've been dating. The three of us."

The silence is almost amusing if Steve wasn't too busy thinking of his girl upstairs, upset.

"Like a throuple?" Bruce asks, confused.

Steve nods shortly. "Thanks for accusing her instead of talking it out. Appreciate it." He says icily, pushing around them. Stalking towards the exit, he calls over his shoulder. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a girl to go check on."

Bucky has wrapped her up like a burrito in the comforter from his bed on the floor of her room, leaning back against the side of the matress with her sat between his parted thighs. Her eyes are still wet and swollen but she's giggling through her sniffles, a spoon hanging out of her mouth and a bowl of soup in her lap. They both look up when he enters the room, Y/n smiling shyly and Bucky relieved.

"We ok sweetheart?" He asks, waiting for her nod before looking to Bucky.

"We're good Steve," he promises, sweeping her hair over her shoulder with his hand and brushing his fingers through it. "She was just frustrated. Didn't know they could think she'd do something like that."

"That's because she wouldn't," Steve says firmly, sitting on the floor next to them. "and we know that y/n. We know you'd never hurt us like that."

"I love you Steve," she swears, resting her head on his shoulder. "And I love you Buck. Thanks for doing this for me."

"Course doll," Bucky says, kissing the side of her head. "Don't have to thank us for loving you." Steve hums his agreement.

"But..."Bucky quickly adds, "you can thank me after I beat Sam's ass for calling you that."

Steve sighs, rolling his eyes. "Buck..." He says warningly but he doesn't even finish the scolding thought because their boyfriend's threat has made y/n smile and that's all they could ever ask for.

#stucky x reader #stucky blurb #Steve Rogers x reader x Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes blurb #steve rogers blurb

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mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years ago

Text

Wow, he’s hot

“Pairing: Fem!Reader x Seo Changbin (SKZ)

Word Count: 8K

Genre: Neighbors to Lovers? Lol

Warnings: Aged up characters (Changbin is ten years older than the reader), explicit sexual content, language, drinking

Summary: You were a fresh college graduate, returning home for the summer before starting a bright, shiny new position in the city, but you certainly weren’t expecting to fall hard for your neighbor.

A/N: I hope at least one person gets my reference/pun at the end....But seriously? Oh, what have I done...

Your roommate was hungover again, dressed to the nines in a purple bathrobe and pink fluffy slippers as she attempted to move huge boxes of random shit between her bedroom and the foyer of your shared apartment.

It was priceless entertainment, at least in your opinion, especially after witnessing your roommate in rare form the previous night dancing from one frat boy to the next, draining entire bottles of alcohol like she needed the liquid encouragement.

From what you had observed, she was determined to embarrass you at all costs, and under normal circumstances, you could’ve avoided her rather inappropriate behavior in exchange for your regular hook-up, Joshua. But he decided to remain mysteriously absent for the entire evening, which meant that you had been stuck watching over your roommate, hoping that she wouldn’t get you kicked out again....

“I know what you’re thinking, Y/N,” Laura huffed, pausing next to the counter-top where you sat. “What did you expect? It was my last night of freedom before going back home.”

“Yeah,” you snorted. “It was mine too, but I wasn’t plastered face-down in the shower last night.”

“Whatever,” Laura grimaced. “Did you sign off on the lease yet?”

“I did it earlier,” you replied.

“Our bitchy landlord’s been complaining all week,” Laura said. “I’m tired of her late-night phone calls, plus my mom’s been really annoying about the move.”

“Oh?” you questioned. “When is she coming?”

“In like an hour,” Laura huffed. “Why do you think I’m busting my ass to pack everything?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “Maybe you needed a distraction from thinking about puking in the bushes behind the frat house last night.”

“Oh, shut up about that!” Laura hissed, slapping your arm as you kept laughing. “Isn’t you brother coming tomorrow?”

“Ugh, yeah,” you groaned. “He said he has to come super early because of work, but my ass doesn’t start functioning until at least 8:00.”

“Well, at least tell Chan ‘hi’ for me,” Laura said, giggling like a love-struck teenager because she had been infatuated with your older brother for years.

“If I remember to tell him,” you grumbled, stretching out your arms and deciding that it might be useful for you to start packing as well, especially since the most you would be able to accomplish tomorrow morning at the ass crack of dawn is following Chan around the apartment in a zombie-like state as the two of you loaded your belongings into his car.

“Don’t forget that I’m coming to visit next week,” Laura said, and you perked up a little at the idea of having your friend come around, especially since the two of you had just graduated together and those long days and nights of being glued together at the hip were coming to a bittersweet end.

“Sounds good,” you agreed, checking your phone one last time to see a weird gif from Chan (as you had come to expect from him) before joining your roommate in packing up the remainder of your former college life.

Chan had always been prompt when it came to his familial obligations, and the two of you spent two hours loading all of your stuff into his car before starting the long drive to your old childhood home. A place that you hadn’t ventured to since leaving four years ago to start undergraduate school.

“Looks the same,” you remarked, sunglasses perched low on your nose as you allowed the window to roll down to take in some fresh air.

“What did you expect?” Chan asked, humming away to whatever shitty metal song he had playing over the radio.

In a totally random and last-minute decision, you had decided that for the next three summer months while you were stuck in an in-between phase, you were returning home for a while before you were set to move into a new apartment in the city close to where you would be working full-time. It seemed logical to save money, and there was a small part of you that did miss your family and old friends.

Of course, despite Chan’s dismissal of your earlier nonchalant comment about the unchanging surroundings of your hometown, you were startled when you realized that the old house next door, which used to be occupied by an elderly couple until they moved away during your senior year of high school, was missing it’s familiar ‘for sale’ sign in the front yard, and there was a black Mustang in the driveway.

“Home sweet home,” Chan sighed when he stopped in the carport attached to your former two-story staccato, opening the door with a grumble.

You frowned, following him around to the back of his car. “Someone bought the house next door?” you asked, dragging your eyes away from the sleek, shiny sports car to look at your brother.

Chan grunted as he heaved your suitcase from the trunk. “Yeah, they moved in last month. I think the owner is a lawyer and he lives there with his daughter.”

“Huh,” you remarked. “That house has been vacant for years.”

Chan shrugged. “Yeah, well, the guy who lives there now is really nice. Mom and dad babysit for him a lot when he’s working.”

“Great,” I muttered. “They’ll rope me into helping.”

“S’ not so bad,” Chan said, growling in frustration when your suitcase fell over to the side with an unpleasant crash. “Can you help or what?”

You laughed at your brother’s outrage, reaching back to pull your hair into a messy bun.

Meanwhile, you noticed the front door of your house opening from the corner of your eye, smiling when your mother shrieked and rushed down the sidewalk to meet you halfway in a long-winded embrace. “Y/N!! I’m so glad to see you.”

“You’re crushing me,” you heaved through constricted lungs, accepting your mother’s open arms even if it was a little over-eager.

“Oh! I’m sorry, dear,” she said, pulling back just enough to allow oxygen to circulate once again, but not enough to pull you away from her mushy kisses. “You look so healthy and beautiful!”

“Yeah, thanks mom,” you said, slowly beginning the untangling process of removing her arms from around you while Chan struggled in the background to carry your suitcase up the front steps. “I should help.”

“Of course!” your mom agreed, but a distant tug of curiosity had you turning back to look at the house next door once again.

“Hey? Do you know anything about the new neighbor?”

“You mean Changbin? He’s wonderful, darling. So polite, and his daughter is so funny.”

You wrinkled your nose, never having been a huge fan of kids. “Chan said you babysit for him sometimes.”

“It’s always nice to help someone out,” your mother tsked, and you could recognize her patronizing tone from anywhere. “Such a shame that he divorced his wife. Heard it was kinda nasty.”

“It’s not any of our business,” you reminded her.

“Oh, I didn’t say it was!” your mother sighed. “He doesn’t talk about it much.”

“Jeez, how much do you guys talk?”

Because from the sound of it, Changbin had to be as old as your mom to make this much of an impression. You grinned as you briefly imagined the two of them on the front porch drinking tea together and gossiping about the rest of the neighborhood.

“He’s far more friendly than Mrs. Jones was,” your mother remarked. “I think you’d like him, Y/N.”

“I don’t know about that...”

“Well, you’ll get the chance to meet him tonight,” your mother said, smile full and wide. “I’ve invited him over for dinner!”

Oh, great.

“Can’t wait,” you forced out between clenched teeth, rolling your eyes when your mom clapped her hands together before grabbing your hand to drag you inside, feeling only a distant shiver roll across your spine as you walked onto the porch as if someone was looking at you from afar....

Your mother was hardly the type to run out of conversation, and you eventually were forced to leave her downstairs to argue with Chan over some menial thing that he forgot to do for tonight’s big dinner while you trudged upstairs to find some peace.

Unsurprisingly, your childhood bedroom remained untouched, and you circled around the perimeter, studying old pictures of yourself playing sports and hanging out with friends. Fingers dusting over your collection of old trophies and high-school yearbooks that recalled long-ago days of feeling carefree - with the future wide-open in front of you for the taking.

But you were well off in the present, allowing yourself to indulge in the nostalgia of looking through old diaries and journals before your mother’s voice called you downstairs for dinner later that evening. “Coming!” you called back, pausing next to your mirror to check your reflection.

The smell of your mother’s cooking had your stomach rumbling from the hunger of only stopping once on the way home to eat cheap fast-food with Chan, and you forced yourself to walk like a normal person even though every instinct was screaming at you to find the source of that delicious odor.

You were nearly salivating at the idea of your mother’s homemade cooking, and your hand caught the rail of the bannister to turn the final corner, but the sounds of voices from below forced you to pause at the top of the stairs, eyes growing wide as you took in the sight of the unfamiliar man standing in your foyer, talking to your mother like they had known each other for years. “Oh, Y/N,” your mother said, and you shivered when the man turned to look at you. “Come meet our neighbor, Changbin. I think you’ll really like him.”

You held back a snort at the ironic comment because it only took you a few seconds to come to the conclusion that Changbin epitomized the phrase “just my type.”

He was on the shorter side, built like he had literally spent his entire life working out, arms bulging beneath his t-shirt and chest straining the material tight to his front. So much so that you could practically see his nipples through the fabric.

His hair was jet-black, ruffled from the wind outside, and his eyes were equally as dark, lips contorted into a self-satisfied smirk that you found exceedingly hot.

“Hi,” you mustered without much thought, nearly tripping over your own two feet on the way down the stairs.

“This is my daughter, Y/N,” your mother said, inviting you closer so that you were standing directly in front of Changbin.

“Nice to meet you,” he said in a deep voice that was slightly rough around the edges.

“Y/N just graduate from college,” your mother gushed. “We’re so excited to have her back.”

“I’m home for the summer,” you explained, shivering at the dark look in Changbin’s gaze. “I’m starting an internship in the Fall.”

“Y/N will be working in publishing,” your mother explained, jumping in while you and Changbin continued to stare each other down - something intense and provocative.

“Really?” Changbin asked, eyes making a leisurely stroll of looking you up and in down in a way that had you feeling extremely self-conscious.

“Oh! Give me one second to check something in the kitchen,” your mother said, excusing herself with a smile before leaving the two of you alone in the foyer.

You inwardly cursed your mother for leaving you both in an awkward silence. Say something!! You screamed to yourself.

“So,” you started, clearing your throat and forcing yourself to stop swaying back and forth. “Chan told me you practice law.”

“Yeah,” Changbin agreed, and you swooned at his crooked smile. “It doesn’t sound as interesting as your work.”

“I don’t know about that,” you countered politely, but Changbin was unrelenting.

“You looked surprised to see me earlier,” he remarked.

You swallowed hard. “Oh, well when Chan mentioned a neighbor with a kid, I just wasn’t expecting someone so....”

“Yes?” Changbin prodded, encouraging you to continue.

Someone so fucking hot, you thought to yourself, someone who was literally made inside my best fantasies, but those explicit thoughts belonged exclusively inside your head. “Young,” you eventually finished, and Changbin seemed disappointed for some reason.

“I’m 32,” he said, and your eyes widened perceptibly, realizing that he was ten years older than you.

“I would’ve never guessed,” you said. “I mean, not that it’s a bad thing-”

“It’s alright,” Changbin interrupted, and you were relieved to hear him chuckle. “I know what you mean.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I can be a little awkward.”

“No,” he shook his head, coming to stand a little closer. “I think it’s nice.”

Oh? What was that supposed to mean?

“I used to have a boyfriend who looked a lot like you,” you went on, freezing when you comprehended what you had just blathered without thinking.

But Changbin didn’t seem bothered at all. “I bet he wasn’t as old as me.”

“He was my age,” you said. “But I kinda like older men...”

Fuck. Did those words really just come out of your mouth?!

“Y/N,” Changbin said, and you trembled at the huskiness of his tone. “You should be more careful.” He leaned in then as if trying to keep whatever he was about to say a secret for just the two of you. “I can be a very dangerous man.”

“O-oh,” you stuttered, finding yourself two seconds away from literally melting at his feet when your mother suddenly re-entered the foyer with a dusting of flour across her chin.

“Dinner’s ready!” she announced, and you were fleeing behind her without a second thought, escaping the intoxicating hold of Changbin’s presence before you did something you might regret.

For whatever reason, you found yourself sitting next to Changbin in the dining room for dinner that night.

“I made chicken,” your mother said, gesturing to each dish sitting in a line down the center of the table as she explained tonight’s menu. But you were barely cognizant of what your mother was saying because the close proximity to Changbin was doing very strange things to your head.

“So, Y/N,” your father started when everyone had been served. “I hope your brother was helpful with the move.”

Chan rolled his eyes, but you grinned at your father’s words. “Yeah, I was a little out of it though because of the time.”

“Like I said,” Chan huffed. “I couldn’t get there any later.”

“Let the bickering commence,” your mother said. “Changbin, you wouldn’t believe the fights these two had when they were young.”

“I can only imagine,” Changbin said, and you were wondering how someone could be even more attractive by the sound of their voice alone.

“Do you still need us to babysit for you tomorrow night?” your mother asked. “We would be more than accommodating.”

“That would be great,” Changbin said. “I’ve got a late conference call.”

“It’s no problem,” your mother continued. “Your daughter is just the loveliest.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” Changbin replied.

“Y/N,” your mother said, catching you with a mouthful of chicken. “Changbin’s daughter is such a peach.”

You quickly forced down the food in your mouth when you felt Changbin’s gaze rest on you. “Oh? How hold is she, Mr. Seo?”

“She’s six,” Changbin said, and he shifted in his chair, causing your knees to brush together in a move that you knew wasn’t intentional, even if it didn’t stop your legs from wrapping together. “And you don’t have to be so formal with me, Y/N. Only my clients call me Mr. Seo.”

“O-oh,” you exhaled, reacting to the brief contact under the table, hoping that nobody else was noticing your strange behavior.

“Maybe Y/N could help watch Lucy when you’re gone,” your mother suggested, always the first to rope you into these things.

“Sure,” you agreed, even though the idea of pulling babysitting duty was less than appealing, and you could hear Chan snickering from across the table. He knew perfectly well your attitude when it came to kids.

“I think Lucy would like that,” Changbin agreed, and you started to nod along until you felt Changbin’s hand move to your thigh.

Just that single move had your entire form frozen in place.

While your mother continued talking about whatever subject caught her attention, you were left wondering how you should react to the very obvious posturing of Changbin’s hand moving decidedly against your bare skin.

“I’ll probably head back into town tomorrow morning,” Chan said. “I wasn’t able to get much work done.”

You knew it was a playful jab at you, but at that moment you were incapable of coherent speech.

“How is work, Channie?” your mother asked, just as ignorant as the rest of them to the situation unfolding beneath her table. “Anything interesting?”

“Not really,” Chan replied, and you nearly choked on the food you were swallowing when you felt Changbin squeezing your thigh.

“Try to chew it first, Y/N,” your father chuckled, and you forced a smile which you hoped wasn’t as strained as it felt.

“What about you, Changbin?” your mother politely queried. “Anything interesting happening lately?”

“Maybe,” he said with a tone that was far too knowing.

“Hmmm?” your mother smiled. “You aren’t seeing anyone, are you?”

You knew the question was invasive, but Changbin handled it in stride. “I think it depends.”

“Sounds scandalous,” your mother joked, and you couldn’t have possibly been imagining it, feeling his fingers reach so high under the opening of your shorts that his fingertips touched the outline of your panties.

You reached down to cover his hand with your own, bringing awareness to the fact that you weren’t ignoring what was happening, and he had every opportunity to pull back.

But he didn’t. In fact, Changbin’s light, playful touches only continued, and you were left reeling for what the intention could possibly mean.

Early the next morning, you were supposed to be cleaning the pool as a favor to your mother, but how could you be blamed for sneaking peaks at your neighbor working out in his backyard?

“Holy shit,” you cursed under your breath, failing to do a very good job of pretending to be occupied with your current task while ogling the man across the lawn who was in the middle of another round of push-ups, biceps flexing while the rest of his body practically glowed under the sun.

You knew it wasn’t a crime to permit the occasional glance, but your hardcore staring could certainly be qualified as spying at this point (especially in the direction of a lawyer) - making it blatantly obvious that you were very appreciative of the male form at the peak of performance.

Was Changbin seriously 32? And a father?

The questions boggled your mind, and in your distracted state, you clearly forgot to keep a firm hold on the handle of the pool’s leaf skimmer, huffing in annoyance when it splashed beneath the water.

It was enough to attract Changbin’s attention, and you were sure that your face was just as red as the towel draped over the back of your mother’s patio furniture when he stood to his full height before walking in your direction.

“Were you watching me?” Changbin asked, sauntering over to you with black mesh shorts hanging tantalizingly low on his hips, shirt foregone in exchange for a delightful sheen of sweat coating the skin of his thick upper torso in dripping rivulets.

“Uh...” you trailed off anxiously, realizing that Changbin wouldn’t be stupid enough to fall for your half-assed excuses, especially after what had happened between the two of you last night.

“You’re not planning on lying to me, Y/N?” he asked, raising one eyebrow in question.

“N-no, Mr. Seo,” you said, shaking your head quickly, barely keeping a firm grasp of your bearings as he abruptly leaned in closer, musk hanging heavy in the air between the two of you.

“I told you not to call me that,” he said, lips lingering far too close to your ear for a simple neighborly exchange, and you could feel the body heat emanating from him in waves, holding you completely hostage as you briefly entertained the idea of falling to your knees right then and there.

“What should I call you?” you asked instead, fisting your shirt between your hands because you were desperate for something to ground you in that moment.

You could practically feel his smirk, holding in a gasp when his hand settled at the low dip in your spine, fitting into the space there as he pulled you tight against his front. “You can always call me daddy instead.”

Your heart skipped several beats at the scandalous words. Either that or you had just entered cardiac arrest.

But before you could muster a response, you found yourself leaping out of Changbin’s hold when the backdoor opened, and your mother was screaming out your name while waving like a maniac. “Oh!” she said when she realized that you weren’t alone. “I didn’t mean to interrupt!”

“We were just talking,” you quickly inserted, glancing at Changbin from the corner of your eye to see him smirking.

For a while, the very strange flirtation between you and Changbin simmered down, and you tried your best to avoid him when you could, even if he made that very hard to do since he insisted on doing his morning workouts outside in direct line of your bedroom.

It was during the following week that you brought the divine glory of Changbin to your friend, Laura’s, attention, ushering her into your house when she parked on the side of street. “What the hell, Y/N?” she complained when you started practically dragging her up the stairs. “I’ve been driving for hours.”

“Oh, hush,” you said. “You’ll thank me later.”

“Thank you for what, exactly?” Laura questioned, but your response was to simply push her toward the window, standing side by side as you looked through the blinds.

“My new neighbor.”

“Holy fuck!” Laura gasped when she finally joined you, and you could only nod your agreement as the two of you continued to watch Changbin through two narrow breaks in your blinds, wondering how the image of your sexy neighbor simply mowing his grass could make you so wet. “That man is huge!”

“I think he does it on purpose,” you remarked, feeling your heart palpitate inside your chest when Changbin took a moment to pause his chore, reaching down to remove his shirt and tuck it into the waistband of his shorts.

Laura’s gasp was almost outlandishly laughable. “He’s ripped! Like, Sports Illustrated model worthy.”

“I would buy every last copy of that edition.”

“I’d even go a step further and tape the pictures to my wall.”

You both stopped to look at one another, nodding in your collective agreement. “Not here, though, my mom would freak.”

“Yeah, but how can your mom expect you to just ignore...that!” Laura exclaimed, gesturing wildly to Changbin.

“She thinks he’s a fucking Saint, but I swear to god, Laura, he’s provoking me on purpose! The other night at dinner? He came over and put. his. hand. on. my. leg,” you said, emphasizing the last line with what probably looked like a comical widening of your eyes. “And he works out every morning in front of my bedroom? What the hell am I supposed to think?”

“No think,” Laura sighed dreamily. “Just enjoy the view.”

“Do you think I’m not?” you snorted. “I’m serious about him doing those things!”

“So what?” Laura grumbled. “Why are you actually worried that your fucking super model neighbor wants to make a few moves on you? I would be honored.”

“I’m not worried,” you huffed. “It just feels like he wants something from me.”

“Well, if it’s a good fuck, then send him all the signals you can, girl.”

“Really?” you muttered. “You know I suck with flirting. That’s why I only hooked up with Joshua at those stupid frat parties. He didn’t care that I was an awkward mess.”

“Well, neither will your neighbor,” Laura said. “Especially if he’s as interested as you say.”

You pursed your lips, considering her comment, but the sudden and unexpected sound of your door opening sent both you and Laura jumping nearly ten feet into the air as you hurried away from the blinds as fast as humanely possible to take up some form of normalcy.

No, mom, of course we weren’t staring at Mr. Seo.

“Girls,” your mother inquired as she walked inside, and you prayed that your mother hadn’t caught the two of you taking sly peaks at Changbin outside, but she seemed completely ignorant. “I have a question for you.”

“Hmmm?” you inquired, innocently enough, trying to act like the position that you had forced yourself into on the bed was totally not uncomfortable.

“Changbin needs someone to watch Lucy tomorrow night, but your father and I already made plans,” she said. “But I told him you would be more than happy to come over and help him out.”

You winced when Laura elbowed you in the side, giving you one of those looks that you knew quite well from countless nights of barhopping as sophomores. “Yeah, I don’t mind.”

“I’m sure you don’t,” Laura snickered, but you payed her no attention as you hurried to close the door behind your mother’s retreating form, breathing a sigh of relief to hear her walk back down the stairs.

In all of your years of existence, never had you questioned the appropriateness of an outfit to wear to someone’s place to babysit.

“Fuck it,” you eventually decided, settling on regular, well-worn jeans and a college t-shirt.

After all, it wasn’t like Changbin was staying for very long. He claimed he had something to do at the office, and you would be all alone inside his house with only his kid for companionship.

Still, after your conversation with Laura from the previous afternoon, you couldn’t help but feel more mindful about how he might look at you, and you forced yourself to wear your most professional smile when you rang the doorbell to his house, counting slowly from one until he opened the door.

“Hi, Y/N,” Changbin said, and you tried not to blatantly check him out; although, you couldn’t help but linger on the tight fit of his shirt across his pecs.

“Hello,” you nearly whispered, cursing your hormones as you followed Changbin inside.

“I actually have something to tell you,” Changbin said, leading you into the living room so that you could sit down while entered the adjoining kitchen.

“Oh?” you queried, as politely as you could, waiting for him to return.

It didn’t take him long, and you found yourself sitting up a little straighter from where you had made yourself comfortable on the couch. “So, I actually found someone else to watch Lucy,” Changbin explained, coming around to land next to you on the couch with two glasses of wine.

“You did?” you asked, surprised and taken-aback.

Why were you here then?

As if he could read your thoughts, Changbin smirked. “Thirsty?”

“Sure,” you agreed, taking one of the glasses and bringing the rim up to your lips. “I’m sorry, I just thought you wanted me to watch her.”

“I did,” Changbin said, and he seemed contemplative as he sipped his own drink. “But then I kinda wanted you for something else.”

“Something else?” you repeated because your mind was spinning those simple words in a thousand different directions, and you were only able to settle on one likely outcome when Changbin’s hand dropped to your thigh, reminiscent of your first dinner together from several evenings ago.

He suddenly moved in closer to you, allowing you to smell the subtle cologne that he was wearing. “You’ve been watching me,” he said, and you shivered, feeling both hot and cold at the same time as you looked at him.

“S-sir?”

“Don’t play coy,” Changbin continued, and you found yourself observing the way his throat bobbed as he drank. “I don’t mind the attention.”

“You don’t?” you replied, a rather useless question considering the circumstances, and Changbin took your glass and sat both alcoholic selections onto the side table.

“Why wouldn’t I like it?” he asked, tracing little nonsensical patterns on the covered part of your thigh. “You’re a very beautiful girl.”

What. The. Hell?!!

“Mr. Seo, I don’t think-”

“Y/N,” Changbin interrupted, and you were so frazzled and disjointed by the sharp grip he took on your chin, forcing eye-contact that was so intimate, you could feel yourself grow a little bit wetter. “I told you not to call me that.”

It was the only precursor you got before Changbin was delving in, gripping your chin firmly as he connected your lips in a deep, sensuous exchange that had you reeling from the sudden 180 degree turn that the night had taken.

In one word: everything was rough. Teeth meeting teeth, and tongues rolling in a messy glide against one another. Wet and warm. Silky and smooth. It was everything you needed in a kiss to get your gears turning, feeling your pussy positively throbbing in response.

“That’s right,” Changbin eventually said when he pulled the two of you apart - very much still in control. “We shouldn’t ignore this tension between us.”

“No,” you eagerly agreed, diving in once more for another earth-shattering kiss that rocked you to your very bones, taking the initiative to crawl into his lap, grinding yourself shamelessly against the tight bulge in his jeans while your fingers dug their way into his thick, dark hair.

“Eager,” Changbin whispered between feverish kisses, keeping your mouths locked together at all costs, even if that meant growing a little bit light-headed from losing too much oxygen.

But you couldn’t get enough of him, not after all this teasing and tension.

You didn’t care anymore, consequences be damned, and there wasn’t a single part of you opposing his intentional touches, giving him enough space to unbutton your jeans before sliding one hand beneath the waistband of your panties. In response, you moaned into his mouth, bracing your hands against his shoulders as he found the delicate folds of your pussy.

“Do you want me to touch you here?” Changbin asked, and you were feverishly nodding, sweat forming at the top of your forehead, trying your best to hold back your loudest moans when he slid right in with little resistance, moving his fingers around the inside of your cunt, stretching and filling you in a way that you imagined was nothing compared to what the thick cock beneath you could do.

But you would take anything from him, savoring the glide of his fingers since you were practically drenching him in sticky arousal, jerking forward every so often when his thumb pressed down a little too hard against your clit.

All the while, you could feel yourself start to break apart from the heated contact between the two of you, aching and wanting for the release that the look in his eyes told you he had every intention of providing.

And you were enjoying every bit of the journey to get there, bathing in his attention, groaning when his fingers curled up just right to tease your g-spot, and grinding down against the erection confined tightly in his jeans.

Everything was suddenly so much louder, the sounds of his palm smacking against your cunt, fingers gliding through wetness, and the joined harmony of your combined moans and grunts.

It was a rapid uphill ascent into the clouds, and you could feel him start to move even faster, pulling against the fabric of your jeans, and there was hardly any time for your mind to truly comprehend what was happening. Lost in a sinful haze of lust and divine rapture, wanting nothing more than to just lose yourself in Changbin.

Except he wasn’t letting you simply drown in the pleasure he was giving you, tugging at your hair to bring you back to the present, to the final string keeping your orgasm just out of reach. “You don’t think I haven’t noticed,” Changbin growled into your ear, keeping one hand tight around your waist to stop your squirming as he continued plunging his thick fingers between the tight walls of your pussy. “I see you looking at me because I want you to look.”

You moaned at the explicit expression of his desires, closing your eyes and returning your head against his shoulder, hips titillating according to the way he moved his fingers inside of you.

“Cum for me,” he said, and you were more than willing to let go of everything, including the moans you had been trying to hold back, filling the house with the loud raucous of your screams as your orgasm snapped and unleashed a molten hot thrill along your spine.

You were gasping for breath, returning from the highest peak of satisfaction, but Changbin hardly gave you anytime to recover before he was removing his hand from your jeans and forcing you into the floor.

“My turn,” he grunted, and the sound of his belt unbuckling triggered some semblance of rationale, and you were practically salivating over Changbin’s cock, eyeing the red bulbous mushroom head and wondering how deep you could take him. “Well?” Changbin prodded, grabbing the base of his thick erection to brush it across the pout of your lips. “Open wide.”

You whimpered, but obeyed, allowing your tongue to stick out just enough to taste the drop of precum leaking from the tip. It was bitter and unappealing, but since it was from Changbin, you couldn’t resist trying more of him, going further and further down until you felt him at the back of your throat.

Your jaw was already aching from the extension, and a distant thought had you thinking, damn, you were gonna be sore in the morning. But it was completely worth it to hear him moan from above you, fingers tightening in your hair as you allowed him to set the pace, rolling you up and down his cock, tongue sweeping the sides and tip and digging into the little slit where you discovered he was the most sensitive.

At the same time, you were all but humping his leg, desperate to get off again as he used your mouth for his own personal cocksleeve, hitting the back of your throat repeatedly, sending you gagging around his impossible length.

“You take cock like you were made for it,” he remarked, eyes glossing over in a way that had you feeling rather proud of your skills.

It only lasted for a moment, and he abruptly held himself all the way down for one, two, three seconds until you were whining for him to let you free just long enough to take in another deep breath.

“Finish me off,” he groaned, and you were working overtime to bring him to the edge, bobbing your head up and down the full expanse of his length, all gorgeous and velvety smooth skin. And you braced your hands against his knees, an anchor to reality, when he finally released down your throat, heavy and warm, causing you to nearly choke as you struggled to swallow every last drop.

“Good girl,” he whispered, petting your head softly as you whined and continued to rub yourself against him, jumping off the brink of orgasmic bliss right after him, allowing your head to fall down between his spread legs.

It was a quiet for a while as you both fought to catch your breath, but then he was moving again, rising from his position on the couch.

You sat back on your heels at the jostling, whimpering when he stood over you with a menacing sneer, grabbing your face between his hands, forcing your gazes to meet somewhere in the middle even though you still couldn’t completely concentrate. But you were cognizant to at least understand his next words: “Lucy won’t be here tomorrow night, either.”

“Changbin,” you gasped, understanding the implications of his request and shivering at the effect they could still have on your worn-out body.

“I’ll leave the door unlocked,” he whispered into your ear, keeping eye-contact as he brought his fingers still coated with your arousal into his mouth, sucking while you grew faint at the sight. Then, he pulled them free and knelt down to sear your lips together so that you could taste the riveting combination of your releases on his wicked tongue.

You returned home that night in a daze, immediately heading for your room after assuring your mother that everything was totally fine with the babysitting, even if you probably appeared a little out of sorts.

In the meantime, you landed on top of your bed with a sigh, opening your phone contacts to pull up Laura’s name, placing the call without any mind to the late hour.

She answered on the third ring with a curt grunt. “This better be good, Y/N.”

“Oh?” you replied with a nonchalant tone. “I thought you might be interested in hearing about my latest dick appointment.”

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. “You didn’t.”

“I did!”

“With your neighbor?”

You laughed at Laura’s shrill tone, rolling over onto your stomach with your feet dancing in the air behind you. “I totally sucked him off.”

“Shit! How big is his cock?” Laura whispered over the phone as if anybody could possibly overhear your conversation.

“Let’s just say he’s well-endowed.”

“You absolute slut!” Laura exclaimed. “Did he at least return the favor?”

“Oh, he’s a gentleman,” you explained. “He took care of me first.”

“Details!”

“He just fingered me,” you said, even as your mind sprinted with images and sensations; Changbin’s sultry gaze, defined muscles, and the burning desire he had planted deep in your core.

“That’s hot though,” Laura said. “I can’t believe you actually did anything with him.”

“What? I told you he was sending me signals!”

“Yeah, but I was only halfway assuming that those signals might lead to his fingers in you!”

You couldn’t help yourself, laughing at Laura’s incredulous tone, and spending the next several minutes doing your absolute best to provide a heavily detailed play-by-play of your evening tryst with Changbin.

“Lucky bitch,” Laura scoffed at the end of your long-winded tale. “I’d kill for someone to fuck me.”

“Well, we haven’t gotten there yet...”

“Yet? Are you planning to go back to him?”

“Obviously,” you said. “There’s unfinished business that I need to take care of.”

“You think he wants to fuck you?”

“I think he wants to do a lot to me,” you purred, smirking at the sounds of Laura’s outlandish squeals from the other end.

Still, you didn’t think those explicit fantasies would come to fruition so soon. But the next night when you returned to Changbin’s house under the guise of babysitting his kid, there were no formalities between the two of you because you both wanted each other in a way that should be considered improper.

Fortunately, you were tired of caring about other people’s opinions, and it only took Changbin a moment to pull you into his house before his lips were crushing against yours, holding you around the waist as he started working at your clothes.

If whiplash was a thing in moments like these, then you had it bad, trying to follow the taste of him as he backed you both into the bedroom, closing the door and enveloping you both in the gentle glow from the lamp.

“Get on the bed,” Changbin growled when he finally pulled away, reaching down for the hem of his t-shirt. You swallowed hard at the sight of his broad, toned upper form, stumbling backward along the floor, hopping on one leg to finish removing your jeans for him, leaving you completely naked as you lowered yourself onto the mattress. “Good girl,” Changbin cooed, and you shivered at the huskiness of his voice, rubbing your thighs together in anticipation as he blatantly traced the outline of his cock through his jeans.

“Changbin, please,” you panted, already so worked up from just kissing and feeling his hands all over your body that you were desperate for something more.

“What do you want, gorgeous?” he asked, walking slowly around to the front of the bed as you watched him with eager eyes.

“Want you to fuck me,” you said, heart thundering against your chest when he started working apart his belt, pulling down his jeans and boxers and allowing his thick cock to slap up against his abdomen, already so hard for you even though you had just started.

“Hands and knees,” Changbin ordered, and you were surprised by your quick compliance, supporting yourself on shaky limbs as you felt him climb on the bed behind you, tensing when the head of his cock grazed your wet opening. “Look at you,” Changbin rumbled, teasing you even more by running his fingers down your spine, allowing his other hand to reach around to grope your breast.

“Hurry,” you practically begged him, and it was like the metaphorical band had finally snapped, and you moaned when Changbin took a firm hold of your hips, manhandling you back into position.

“Good girls say please,” he snarled, and your entire form light up at the abrupt command.

“P-please,” you stuttered, and there was an unholy line of curses that left your lips when he directed his cock inside, penetrating you so slowly that you could feel every inch of him until he was snug against your ass.

“Since you asked nicely,” Changbin chuckled, and you had never been so turned on before in your entire life, heart racing and blood pumping, bracing yourself against the mattress when he started thrusting, gentle at first, but then faster and faster as you egged him on, wanting him to go so hard that he split you in half around his cock.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasped, struggling to maintain any sort of grip on the headboard.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” Changbin purred into your ear, sounding perfectly put-together despite the fact that he was literally drilling his cock into you. “All those guys you’ve fucked before, I would think your pussy wouldn’t be this tight.”

“You’re just too big,” you managed, crying out when he grazed a sensitive spot.

“Oh? Is that why this little pussy is leaking so much?” Changbin asked, and you had no response for him, clearly fucked out of all rational thought as his hips slapped against yours in a bruising meeting of skin-on-skin.

It was undeniable: you had never felt this full before...like Changbin’s cock was somehow reaching all the way to your guts, and you reached down to place a hand over your stomach, imagining feeling the bulge of his cock against the distended skin.

“How does daddy feel?” Changbin whispered into your ear, and if it was possible for him to literally destroy you, then it would be from that heavily suggestive question.

“So good,” you sniffled, tears falling inhibited, leaving your face just as wet as the place where he was crushing himself into you, repeating the same motion of leaving just the tip before re-entering you with added urgency, cock forcing its way between the slick walls of your cunt.

It was a beautiful melodic song after that (or, perhaps, hard metal would be a much better genre), the rhythm of his hips rolling against your own, hard and then softer, bruising and fleeting, stuffing your pussy on every upstroke, holding you in place by his pure strength.

You could feel that strength everywhere, the force of his cock squelching between your pulsating walls, the way you moved up and down the bed by his control, and, when you reached back with one hand to feel his arm, the flex of his biceps as his arms worked to move you however he pleased.

“What will your mother say, Y/N?” Changbin asked. “When she finds out that her daughter fucked the man next door?”

Your mother would absolutely lose her shit if she found out that you were willingly spreading your legs for a divorced 32-year old man who had a daughter you were meant to be babysitting. She would be even more taken aback to discover that you loved and craved every second of Changbin’s cock tearing you to pieces, stretching you so good that you imagined that you would still be gaping in the morning, desperate to have him fill you again.

“Her little girl screaming like a slut for me,” Changbin hissed. “Say my name, Y/N.”

“C-Changbin,” you whimpered, feeling him roll to a slower pace, merely grinding his hips in circles as if teasing you for the answer.

You flinched and nearly cried when he smacked the fleshy part of your ass, trying to look back over your shoulder to see what you had done wrong. “Try again,” he said, giving you a meaningful look that your poor, fucked-out brain still managed to decipher; although, you were burning in your own skin at the thought of saying it out loud....

“Daddy!” you moaned, and Changbin suddenly reached down to catch a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back and forcing your back into an even deeper arch.

“That’s right,” he sneered. “And Daddy’s about to ruin this pussy, fuck it so full of my cum that you’ll still be feeling it when you go back home tonight to your parents and lie about what you’ve done.”

Your next moan was the loudest of the night, overwhelmed by the nasty things he was saying to you, feeling your orgasm gaining speed and traction the longer he kept fucking you, cock moving at a neck-break pace, and fingers wet and hurried over your clit.

The combined friction of his cock and fingers had you reeling, struggling to keep yourself up as he pummeled you into the mattress. Taking great liberties in the screams he was forcing out of you, realizing that if he angled his hips with one of your legs stretched higher around his hip, then he could somehow reach even deeper, kissing your cervix and threatening to steal the breath from your lungs.

More and More. Faster and Faster. Until the breaking point was right under your nose...

The next thing you remember is a release that was so intense, you managed to black-out when it was all over, pussy fluttering around the distinct waves of pleasure, barely coherent as Changbin continued chasing his own release until he fulfilled his obscene promise to you.

Three Weeks Later

You had gotten awfully good at keeping Changbin a secret - a dirty and scandalous whisper at that.

For a while, your mother questioned your insistence on going over to your neighbor’s house to babysit, especially considering your history of being less than willing to interact with children.

“She’s not like most kids,” you lied, waiting for your mother to relent before grabbing whatever bag you needed consisting of your overnight clothes, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible when you walked over to Changbin’s house.

Your mother watched you, at first, standing on the porch as if ensuring that you made it the dozen or so feet separating your yard from that of your neighbor’s. Eventually, she gave up on trying to catch you doing something you weren’t supposed to, but you still kept up appearances, ringing the doorbell and taking a few steps to the side to leave enough room for the screen to rotate on its hinges, offering you the irresistible view of Changbin standing there in all his glory.

“You’re early,” he remarked; although he seemed to take great pleasure in seeing you as early as possible.

“Is that okay?” you asked with a knowing look, and Changbin chuckled while giving you his most arrogant smirk.

In return, you smiled back at Changbin, watching him open the door just a little bit wider in invitation.

It was all you needed before surrendering yourself to whatever delicious and mind-blowing ecstasy awaited on you the other side.

Summer of 69 indeed.

#changbin fanfic #changbinsmut #changbin imagines #changbin scenarios #changbin hard hours #changbin oneshots #stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #skz fanfic #skz smut #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #stray kids oneshot #skz oneshots #mostlycompetent

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kisstheassassins · 3 years ago

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Hi there😊May I request a HC with Connor and SO who is an assassin in The Tyranny of King, but in this SO doesn't remember him when he finds her in the same prison as Kanen'tó:kon hanging by her wrists being tortured by a bluecoat(similar to what happened to Leliana in DA Inquisition). Also she would the same person he originally knew, but cold & kind of emotionless. Not to mention she wouldn't trust him either. Lol sorry that got dark, but thank you for taking the time to read this!

I hope this is to your liking 😊

Also im using (p/n) as your preferred pronouns.

The two men had finally been liberated from the prison they were held in, but Kanen had one last thing to do here before he could finally leave.

There they were at a four-way cross section of the jail, with Kanen looking around at each hallway as if he were trying to remember something.

"What is it?" Ratonhnhaké:ton asked his friend; his hand was pulling on Kanen's arm to make him hurry, but he pulled away.

"We cannot leave yet," the other man says, running down one of the halls. If Connor hadn't trusted his friend he would have gone the other way, but he follows close behind.

They find themselves at a closed door, and behind it a voice can be heard. It's cold and harsh, and upon creaking the door open Kanen realizes its not just one person, but two. You hang by your wrists from the ceiling by chains, feet barely hitting the floor as you gasp for each breath.

"I know that there were more of you," the guard says harshly. He has some sort of blunt weapon in his hand to strike you when he thinks you're either lying, or doesn't like the answer you give him. Your face is bloodied and bruised.

"Beat me all you want," you growl, "I'm not saying a damn thing. You and your false King can rot in hell."

Your voice rang through Ratonhnhaké:tons ears like a cannon firing just beside him. His breath quickens as he and Kanen rush in just before the guard strikes you, startling him.

However, before they can reach him your legs wrap around his neck tightly, using your chains to lift you up and choke the man with your limbs. You apply more pressure with each passing minute, and eventually jerk your hips sideways to result the sound of his neck snapping. His body slumps to the floor, as well as your legs. You're exhausted.

Kanen moves the dead body to the side and searches for the key while Ratonhnhaké:ton looks you over. He's still trying to process that he even found you, let alone in this prison. And the state of you; it made him sick to see you so beaten. He always promised to protect you and to prevent this type of thing.

"Took your bloody time," you say, an exasperated smile gracing your lips. Kanen unlocks the braces one by one, and Ratonhnhaké:ton helps you stand when each hand is free. You can't help but fall to the floor, and he helps you down gently. Kanen kneels on the other side of you.

"I don't particularly enjoy leaving my friends behind," he says. You rub your wrists and wince at the pain; no doubt these bruises would be here a while.

Your eyes meet the other man's, suspicion building up the more he stares. His eyes are soft and his mouth is partially open like he wants to say something.

"Friend of yours?" you ask, looking up at Kanen. He nods.

"More like a brother. This is Ratonhnhaké:ton."

You both lock eyes again, and a sense if warmth and familiarity fill your chest. It confuses you; you know you have never met this man in your life, so why are you so..... fuzzy?

You nod at him in greeting.

"(Y/n)," you say, and even though he knows it, he smiles to you anyway.

Kanen and Ratonhnhaké:ton help you stand up and keep you close to support your legs, as it was somewhat difficult to walk after the beatings you received.

"Go on ahead," Ratonhnhaké:ton says, "I'll help (p/n)."

With just you two now following a ways behind Kanen, Connor has a close grip on you and you can't help but notice how closely he watches you. You don't have to look to know, but you can feel his eyes on you.

You try to break the wall with small talk.

"Thanks for doing this," you say, "uh.... " A laugh escapes you. "Sorry, I don't know how to say your name."

He knew it was coming, but he played a long.

"What would you like to call me then?" he asks softly. Your eyes meet his once again and you chuckle.

"My mentor," you begin, "he had a son. Died when he was only six." A pause. "Is Connor okay?"

The man smiles and nods, fixing his grip on your back. You fall in closer to him as your legs are still weak.

"It's perfect," he chuckles, but you weren't able to feel how his heart ached and yearned for you at that moment. "How about we get out of here, hm?"

-----

Benjamin Franklin had been attending to your wounds on your hands and wrists, while the other two who saved you leaned over a table discussing their next move for the revolution over Washington. You can't help but stare at Connor and wonder why he felt so familiar to you, but you never met the man.

"Something bothering you, (y/n)? " Ben asks. You keep your eyes focused.

"How come I've never met Connor," you say. Your friend looks to where you are looking.

"You mean Ratonhnhaké:ton?"

Your eyes glance to Ben and then back.

"We settled on Connor since I can't pronounce his name," you say.

Ben finishes up wrapping the bandages around the cut on your palm, watching you wince as he tucks the fabric in.

"Well," he begins, "I don't think Kanen'tó:kon expected to find his friend here in the midst of all this. He went to war with Washington even before Ratonhnhaké:ton and his mother did."

You sit up off the table and pulls your sleeves down over your bandages.

"Do you trust him?"

"He's been very helpful so far," he states, "in fact, I believe he's done more for us in the past week than we have in a month. I dont think you have anything to worry about."

----

A brief war table meeting later, and everyone has departed to complete their duty for the day, leaving you to rest and Connor to go over what he had missed over the past few weeks. You find yourself beside him staring at the wall of photos and drawings that you and your colleagues had collected for evidence and tracking. Connor stares up at Washington, eyes malice and eager to find the man.

"You seem to have a personal vendetta with him," you say, more so than we do."

Connor looks to you and then back at the wall, exhaling sharply.

"He has done a lot of harm and damage to my people, as well as the rest of the world. My home was burned, my people enslaved."

He stops a moment to collect himself and take a deep breath, almost preparing himself for what he had to say next.

"He... murdered my mother. My father."

You swallow the lump in your throat; people were lucky enough to survive Washington's wrath, let alone escape it. A majority of those here weren't so lucky.

"I'm sorry," you say softly.

A few moments pass and you can't help but stare at him, that feeling familiarity hitting you dead in the chest again. Your palms are sweaty too, you notice, and you're chewing the inside of your cheek. Connor glances your way and turns his head when he sees you.

"What?" he says. You exhale sharply.

"Are you sure we haven't met before?" He shakes his head. "I feel like I've seen you before and its driving me mad."

Connor shifts in his spot, thinning his lips and staring at you, waiting, as if he wanted to speak. But he doesn't. Instead he watches you get closer.

"I don't normally trust people so easily," you say, "but seeing Kanen being so open and close to you, I feel like I can too. Don't take me the wrong way Connor, but you feel real familiar to me and I don't know why."

He smiles sheepishly, memories if you flooding his mind back in.... his original world. All of this surely had to be a nightmare.

"Perhaps we should work together," he begins, "see where this goes from here."

You smile at him and he does the same for you, making you chuckle. You pat his arm and make way upstairs; he is in close pursuit.

He prayed to his ancestors nothing happened to you after this.

#ask #answer #ac #assassins creed #connor kenway #connor #ac3 #connor kenway x reader #drabble #assassins creed x reader

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cherryyharryy · 4 years ago

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please write something about Harry overhearing the reader’s friend tell her that Harry doesn’t spend time with her that she deserves someone better they hang up b4 the reader can say anything like angst to fluff

Thank you for requesting!

This is 80's harry lol

WC: 2.4K

Harry pauses the music on his Walkman, slipping the headphones off his ears to rest around his neck while he fiddles with the key to his apartment.

She had spent the night—his angel. It had been quite the set up, since she still lives at home with her parents while finishing college, a little white lie was passed around to cover her absence. Harry wasn’t a secret by any means, but her parents weren’t the most open minded, and a small fib was easier to handle than trying to rehash the same discussion of y/n being a grown woman. It was hard enough for her to get their approval for college...one mountain at a time.

Harry’s ears burn as he sets the groceries down in the kitchen, the thought of her still tangled up in his sheets beckoning him back to his room, is enough to drive him wild. He doesn’t catch himself zoning out until the phone rings. He untangles his music off his shoulders and yanks the phone off the wall, but y/n has beat him to it, her soft morning voice greeting Caroline before Harry can utter a word.

His brain is too slow in making the connection that he should hang up. That he shouldn’t eavesdrop on his girlfriend’s private conversation. That he owes her the respect that her parents never give her. But he hears his name, specifically, he hears Caroline ask y/n how last night was, so the phone stays glued to his ear.

“Amazing,” she purrs, and Harry’s stomach flips. “We did it like, three times.”

The girls giggle, and Harry shuffles on his feet with a veiny blush spreading all over his body. He can imagine y/n draped in his sheets, phone cord wrapped around her fingers, just a few steps away from him

“Better be nothing short of amazing,” Caroline says, “with what little time he gives you anyway. Ugh, if Tony ever left me hanging as often as Harry, I’d dump him so fast.” She smacks her gum into the phone and Harry flinches. “He tried to ditch me one time to go see Scarface with Rob, and I was like, hell no, you’re taking me skating like you promised. Honestly y/n, you can do better. You’re surrounded by college boys, go find a future doctor.”

The phone almost slips from Harry’s hand, but he catches it and hangs it back on the wall, just in time for his entire world to start crumbling to his feet.

Did he really not spend enough time with y/n?

How long has this been a topic shared between them?

And why hasn’t she said anything before?

Harry stands in the middle of his kitchen, immobilized. He can’t lose her, especially not to something he can fix. She’s been his girl since they were sixteen, there’s too much history between them, or so he thought.

He files through the memories he has of them together, trying to quantify them, trying to see where he started slipping.

Maybe it’s when he took over his dad’s business? But she knew how demanding it would be, and always supported him. Or maybe it’s because they don’t go out as much? Between him managing an appliance store, and her working towards a bachelors, they often opt for nights on the couch watching SNL reruns.

His mind is foggy, and he doesn’t catch his bedroom door creaking open.

“H?”

Harry startles back to present, gripping the counter as y/n emerges from his room wearing nothing but his t-shirt.

“You okay? Look like a deer caught in headlights.”

“Mm, no, fine.”

“I heard you come in a bit ago.” She flicks her eyes over his kitchen, looking for the breakfast he had promised to make almost an hour ago.

“Didn’t want to be too loud.”

“Oh, alright.” She smiles, attempting to diffuse whatever awkward tension has settled in his home. “Well, cook away! I can help too.”

He grabs her wrist before she reaches the fridge. “No, I’ll make it for you. Go back to bed.”

“You sure?”

He nods, forcing a smile.

She peers back over her shoulder twice on her walk back to his room, hoping to figure out what’s going on, but learns nothing.

As soon as his door shuts, Harry flies around his kitchen, grabbing what he needs to make the fastest breakfast in the world.

He’s going to spend every free second he has with her, and doesn’t want to waste any if he doesn’t have to.

***

Harry knows he’s borderline annoying. And he knows his actions are beginning to appear creepy, if not bizarre. He tags along with y/n everywhere she goes now, even at the doctor where he almost followed her back to her exam. She gently placed her hands on his chest and told him that she would rather the doctor do the job, promising she’d be out in no time.

She’s been tiptoeing around him too, not sure what to make of his new routine of gluing himself to her side, hoping it will wear off and things will go back to normal.

But she waits and she waits, and normal never resurfaces.

“H, baby, I can’t concentrate with you so close to me.”

Harry looks offended, slipping his reading glasses off his nose and closing the book he was halfway through, giving her his full attention when he asks what she means.

Y/n peers around the library, not wanting to have this discussion so publicly, but too keyed up to wait any longer. “I’ve just noticed that you’ve...been a little clingy lately? More like a lot.”

“I just wanted to spend more time with you.”

“You’re picking me up, and walking me to my classes—”

“Thought that was nice?”

“You don’t even go to this school. Listen, the sentiment is nice, but I’m starting to feel a little suffocated.”

Harry bites his cheek so hard he draws blood. “And what did Caroline have to say about that?”

“What?”

“I’m sure that nosy friend of yours had a lot to say about me when you brought this up.”

“Excuse me!”

“Quiet, please,” one of the staff members shushes y/n, “Or I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Y/n ignores the snickers from a table of girls nearby, recoiling her embarrassment and turning it to anger. Her voice, although lowered, now drags out of her mouth in sharp tones. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I heard everything, that morning Caroline called my phone to talk to you about how crummy of a boyfriend I am.”

That morning, now a month ago, is hardly a memory in y/n’s head. She fights around for details of the conversation, but comes up empty handed. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about, and frankly, I don’t care.” She starts closing all her books and gathering her school work to shove into her bag.

“Where are you going?”

“Home.”

Harry blinks, fumbling for his next question as y/n hurries across the library. He’s quick to catch up with her, waiting until they’re outside where they don’t have to whisper. “Don’t walk, I have my car.”

He reaches for her shoulder but she shrugs it off. “I’m going home. My home, not yours.”

Harry freezes on the sidewalk. She continues on her way until she disappears around the building. A few students yell out at Harry, making fun of the guy who, from a distance, just got rejected. He flips them off and heads to his car, beating the steering wheel all the way back to his apartment.

***

“You’ve been studying an awful lot lately,” y/n’s dad comments from across the dinner table. “Do you have a big test coming up?”

“Hm?”

“You spend the night with Rayna almost every weekend.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. We have a lot of tests.” Y/n spoons a bite of mashed potatoes into her mouth, thankful neither of her parents went to college. It’s allowed for more stretched lies when she sleeps over at Harry’s. “Like a lot. Every week.”

Her mother hums from her seat, nodding to save her spot in the conversation while she finishes chewing. “We told you how hard it would be. But you wouldn’t listen.”

“That’s not—” “Shelly’s daughter just got a job as a receptionist, over at that dental office by the mattress store.” Her dad points at y/n with his fork. “You could ask her if she knows of any other places looking for a girl.”

“I’m not going to have a job where the requirement is girl.”

“You’re taking this too liberally, dear. Oh Lord, John, that school did just what you said.”

“No—”

“That’s what happens, girls go off to try and get a degree...and what for? What are you going to do when you get married and have kids?”

“Kids!?”

Her mom scoffs. “Well you’re not going to be able to raise children and work.”

“Are you two serious right now? It’s 1985, not fifty-five! Women go to college, they work, some of them don’t even get married! Or have kids!”

“When you were little you couldn’t wait to be a mom. Now all of a sudden you’ve changed your mind. That never would have happened if we hadn’t let you go off to that damn school.”

“Yes I’ve changed my mind! If it hadn’t been for that school, I never would have realized that it’s my own mind to change. It’s my own life to do whatever I want with, not yours.”

“Well I am—” Her dad is interrupted by the door bell echoing outside the kitchen. “One minute. We’re not done with this yet.”

Muffled voices stagger from the front door while y/n pushes the food around her plate. She hopes that whoever is at the door keeps her dad busy for a while. She knows her mom won’t have these types of conversations without him, which just showcases the lifestyle she is adamantly trying to avoid. One that was passed down to her parents, but y/n is determined to squeeze herself out of that narrative no matter what.

“Y/n!” her dad calls, “you have a visitor.”

Y/n peers up at her mom, both women exchanging confused glances before they go see who had arrived.

“Oh,” y/n says dully, “It’s you.”

Harry stands with his hands shoved into jacket pockets, peering at each family member before speaking. “Hey, uh, I was hoping we could talk. Privately.”

Y/n nods, and leads the way back through the kitchen to the back porch. She’s not really in the mood to be talking to him, or having this conversation, but right now he’s a free ticket away from her parents, so she accepts.

They sit halfway down the steps, just like they’ve done a thousand times before. Her on the right, him on the left. Usually his arm is thrown over her shoulder, and their knees bump together until Harry pulls her in so close that not even a breeze could fit between them, but now they’re both collected on their respective sides of the wooden step.

“Heard the new Prince song?”

Y/n rolls her eyes. “It’s been a week.”

“Exactly, a lot’s happened in a week. Prince came out with a new song, Michael Jordan’s rookie of the year, and there’s gonna be a Rocky four.”

“Did you come over to talk about everyone else’s good news?”

Harry sighs. “We’ve never gone a week without talking. Ever.”

“Well you really hurt my feelings.” She turns to look at him, tears welling up in her eyes. “I mean, you don’t even trust me, so you listen in on my phone calls—”

“That’s not—no. I picked up when you did.”

“But you still listened.”

“Okay yeah, but only because I heard my name.” He shrugs, a timid smile playing on his lips. “Wanted to hear what you thought about me.”

“I tell you what I think all the time. I’ve never kept my feelings secret from you.”

“It’s different.” He pulls his hands from his pockets and runs them through his hair, tugging on fistfuls of curls out of frustration. “But then when Caroline said all that, ‘bout me not spending enough time with you, it killed me.”

“That’s what this is about,” she sighs, more to herself than to Harry as the memory of that morning resurfaces in her mind. “You dork, what about what I said back?”

“I hung up. Didn’t wanna hear anything else after that.”

“I told her how wrong she was. How we spend lots of time together.”

“You did?”

“Mhm. She’s always bragging about her and Tony, like they’re the first two people to date ever. I totally rubbed our relationship in her face.”

Harry’s surprised by the gleam on his girlfriend’s face, and tries not to laugh. “What else did you tell her?”

“I dunno.” She shrugs, suddenly shy. “Can’t remember.”

“How convenient.” He nudges her knee with his, and she bumps him back.

Y/n exhales, dipping her head back to squint at the stars peeking out from a cloudy night. “My parents are driving me crazy.”

“They always drive you crazy.”

“Yeah but, more than usual. I got spoiled staying with you on the weekends.”

Harry hums, reaching his arm over to pull her into his side. “Maybe it shouldn’t just be weekends…”

“They would know something’s up if I stayed over on weeknights.”

“No, baby, I mean permanently.”

“Like moving in together?”

“Why not?”

She chews on her lip, trying to keep her smile hidden. “I don’t know...that’s a big deal. It’s a big step.”

“We can think about it. No rush.”

“It would be nice. To see each other whenever we wanted.”

Harry tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Wouldn’t have to ask your parents permission for anything.”

“Yeah…”

“Just me.”

“Hey!”

“I’m kidding, angel.” He kisses her forehead and takes her hand, helping her up.

Y/n’s parents are in the living room when the two are back in the house, and just the thought of continuing her evening here lights a fire under y/n.

“I’m going over to Harry’s,” she announces.

Harry drops her hand, just as surprised as her parents.

“Excuse me?” Her father turns the t.v. off and straightens in his chair. “I don’t think so.”

“Well I think so,” y/n defends. “Come on, Harry.” She takes his hand and tugs him towards the door.

“Harry!” Her mother protests.

He looks over his shoulder just as he’s being led out the door. “Oh, you can call me Rayna.”

#Harry styles requested #Harry styles requests #requests #request #harry styles fic #cherryyharryy #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst to fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff

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friendlyneighborhoodcapricorn · 2 years ago

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since you asked for family ones how about things you said that I wasn’t meant to hear for Bruce & Jason or things you said at 1 am for Dick and Tim

Thanks for the ask <3

I’ll do both bc I feel like it lol

Things you said at 1 AM

It’s a quiet night. Or rather, it is now. The last of the gala’s guests had left about ten minutes ago, and now everything was quiet.

As quiet as Gotham ever got.

Which, on the roof overlooking the Manor’s garden, is pretty quiet. It’s late June, and still warm out, despite the late hour. There’s a breeze ruffling Dick’s hair, blowing softly against his suit jacket.

He figured he would find Tim up here, and now it turns out he’s right. Tim’s sitting on the edge, gangly legs dangling over it.

“Everything okay?” he asks as a greeting.

Tim doesn’t startle; Dick made sure his footsteps were audible on the tiling. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

“Mind if I join you?”

Tim shakes his head, and Dick goes to sit beside him. There’s a rose bush beneath them. Alfred will kill them both if either of them ends up falling into it somehow.

“I want to tell you something,” Tim says after a while, resting his head on Dick’s shoulder. “I’m really glad we’re brothers.”

Dick tilts his head to lean against Tim’s. “Me too, kiddo.”

Tim makes a pleased sound and leans more of his weight against Dick.

“How much champagne did you have?” he asks after a while of sitting in silence and counting satellites and stars.

Tim doesn’t respond, save for his soft snores.

Things you said that I wasn’t meant to hear

Jason’s head is pounding. He can’t remember if he got hit in the head, or if it’s the hangover of the century until he remembers that he doesn’t drink.

Hit in the head it is. Awesome.

Someone is combing through his hair. Occasionally, cool fingers brush his temples or forehead, sometimes even his neck, and it’s nice.

It makes the headache fade enough that Jason almost drifts off again.

That’s when Bruce begins to speak, although he doesn’t realise it’s Bruce at first.

“I don’t know how to tell you this when you’re awake,” he says, and Jason feels his throat close up at Bruce’s odd tone. “So I’ll tell you now. You’d call it the coward’s way out. And you’re right. I should tell you this when you’re awake, but…”

He trails off, and then he’s quiet for so long that Jason nearly falls asleep again. In fact, he isn’t sure if he hasn’t, because Bruce’s voice speaking up again startles him, like he’s having one of those falling dreams.

“You’re a good person, Jay. And I should tell you that more often, but I feel as if you’d only try to prove me wrong if I did.” He sighs, and then hand moves out of Jason’s hair for a few seconds before returning. “Not that it’s an excuse. I lost you, and by some miracle, I got you back. I should be telling you how loved you are every single day. And instead we only fight.”

There’s another pause, and Jason is trying not to give away that he’s awake. It’s easier than it should be, because he can feel himself slipping again.

“And I know exactly what went wrong between this, and I regret it.” He sighs again, and Jason has to fight to stay awake now. “I don’t want us to be fighting forever, sweetheart. I love you, and I missed you. More than you will ever know.”

Jason barely heard the last part anymore, but he’s sure he doesn’t imagine the lips brushing against his temple.

#asks #answered asks #writing asks #writing prompts #writing ask game #dc #tim drake #dick grayson #jason todd #bruce wayne #drabble #dc drabble

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biggest-stupidhead · 4 years ago

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hello love! can i request erwin x fem reader smut where they're quite the opposite, and after a mission they're tired and just fuck (maybe in the woods or something) because they're so stressed but also because they've been wanting to do it long before? like everyone feels the tension between them except they don't wanted to admit it? thanks! i love your blog. 🥺✨

Hey babes, of course! Thanks for sending this one in, I love writing for Levi but I need to switch it up sometimes lol.

Warnings: lowkey hatefucking, intercourse obvi, fucking in da woods, wrap it before u tap it!, unprotected sex.

Summary: Erwin is selfish, but it’s okay because you are too.

Word Count: 2.4K

Your breathing was uneven as you hunched over, chest rising erratically. Your blades were dull and gas was running low, you tapped on the cans ruefully, the dull din signaling how empty the canisters truly were. You were just starting to regain your senses when the sound of hoofbeats startled you. Hange tugged the reins of her horse, the beast turned its head and bared its teeth when she pulled so harshly on the bit.

“Excellent work! That was a clean cut.” Hange complimented as she smiled wryly down at you. You nodded and lifted your fingers to your lips and whistled for your own mount.

“Thanks, it was a big one too. I’ll have to find the supply wagons though, gas is almost gone.” You said as you tossed the dulled blades off to the side and slide the handles of the gear back into the scabbards.

“Ah you’ll have to work on that.” Hange said, her head swiveling to keep watch while you waited for your horse to return. A few moments passed before the sound of your horse trampling through the foliage alerted of its return. You caught it by the reins and threw yourself onto its back.

“Let’s return to the formation then.” Hange said, once again roughly jerking her horse into the right direction, you close on her heels. The two of you rode through the trees at break neck speed, trying to make up for lost time. You finally managed to make out the sight of Erwin and Levi, their own steeds galloping back in the direction of the wall.

“What’s going on!? I haven’t caught my titan yet!” Hange wailed when you reunited with the other pair.

“Too many casualties.” Levi quipped, expression sour and hands bloodied. You rolled your eyes and clutched the reins harder.

“We just need a few more minutes, let’s not call it off yet.” You insisted and Hange exclaimed excitedly at the shared sentiment.

“Won’t be possible, we can’t risk loosing more lives. There’s been enough bloodshed for one day.” Erwin’s voice was tense and his blue eyes were icy as he shot you and Hange down.

“I don’t see why it matters, if we already have lost most of our men...why not push onwards?” You weren’t sure if you really felt that way, or if you were looking for a fight. You were well aware of how Levi felt about losing his men, and how little Erwin truly cared about loosing lives. You knew that was what separated the two of them, Erwin only cared for his own selfish goals, although he hid it well. Levi on the other hand truly cared for the soldiers, and wanted victory for humanity.

“Shut your filthy fucking mouth.” Levi hissed, gunmetal eyes dark and jaw tense as he bit back his words, waiting for Erwin to tell you off.

“We simply don’t have the means at this time.” Erwin said simply, eyes trained forward. You glowered at him, you couldn’t deny that you held some malice towards him, for his seeming lack of empathy towards his men. But could you blame him? You had joined the scouts for your own selfish desires as well, he just had the power to ensure that his desires were acted upon.

“Very well.” You growled, leaning into your horse’s neck as the four of you picked up the pace. Erwin lifted a flare gun and fired the signal into the air for retreat.

The march into the gates and through Shiganshina was brutal as always. The citizens murmured of their wasted tax dollars and the waste of human life. You silently agreed with them, glaring at the back of Erwin’s perfect blonde head. You wanted nothing more than to scream at him, maybe even slap him, then you’d fuck- wait no. Not that last part, you shook your head in an attempt to rid the vulgar thoughts from your mind.

The castle was notably vacant when you arrived. Having lost so many men, the grounds were less busy than usual. You wandered around, having already put your horse away and assisted with the unloading of the excess supplies. You were grateful for the summer breeze, the last rays of light poking through the trees. You wandered off towards the thicket of trees that rested between the castle and the mountain range beyond.

The sounds of the forest seeped into your bones and reminded you of your home, your family, why you had originally agreed to this regiment. You were so caught up in your own thoughts, you almost didn’t hear the twig snapping off to your right. You whipped your head towards the noise, catching the flash of blonde hair and a stark white dress shirt.

“Following me?” You growled, turning to face him fully, Erwin’s cold blue eyes shone in the dim light.

“To an extent.” He shrugged nonchalantly and you bristled at the admission.

“Come to ravage me?” You pushed, wanting a reaction from the usually stoic man.

“Not exactly.”

“Then what? You men are simple creatures after all, only so many motives behind your dull eyes.” You bit, unable to keep the frustrations from your tone. Erwin’s thick brows pinched together at your words.

“I came to tell you that....I want you to be a squad leader.” Erwin’s jaw ticked as he waited for your response. You let out a scoff of disbelief, eyes shining with mirth.

“Why? Because I showed a fraction of the coldness that you display?” You hissed, marching across the small amount of space between you and attempted to get in his face. Although it was difficult seeing as how tall he stood.

“Precisely.” Erwin’s voice was a bit airy, eyes now seeming to shine with something besides the cunning that usually resided in them. You narrowed your own eyes and let loose a growl fisting the front of his shirt as you considered your options.

If you accepted the position, you would be no better than him. But then again were you really any better in the first place?

“I’ll do it.” You released him and took a step back, determination gleaming in your eyes.

“I knew that you would.” He smirked, lips curling into an annoying grin, making your stomach flip.

“Could this not have waited until morning?” You asked, eyes drifting to the last glimmers of sunlight that spotted the forest floor.

“I suppose it could have...but I wanted to see you before then.” You wrinkled your nose in disgust, earlier suspicions proving true.

“Oh really?” You huffed with a dramatic roll of your eyes. Erwin’s expression darkened, and he took. a step forward, invading your space. You stood as tall as you possibly could, not wanting to let on how nervous you really felt in his suffocating presence.

“I wanted to ask you...why you are so bent on challenging my authority.” It wasn’t a question, more of a statement, putting you on the ropes. You glowered at him, his chest bumping yours, prompting you to take a few healthy steps back. Which you did, until your back met the rough bark of an oak tree.

“Why should I listen to someone who holds no regard to human life?” You snarled in response, but it felt more like a yelp, your heartbeat picked up as his hand gripped the tree, trapping you between his towering figure and the large tree.

“I can’t help but wonder if it could have something to do with the way you stare at me….” His breath tickled your face as he craned his head down, your cheeks lit up as you blushed.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You denied, although it was true, you had developed a bad habit of seeking out his form in the dining hall. Watching him too closely during meetings. He was attractive, that was an undeniable fact, but the resentment that you held for him had always prevented you from seeking out anything more than the professional relationship that had been established.

“I know you do, I’ll only offer this once and never again. I’ve had this on my mind for a while now, if you aren’t interested then we can pretend that this never happened.” He paused, gauging your reaction as you looked up at him in shock.

“I want to fuck you. Right here.” He pointed his finger towards the ground and his eyes flashed with an animosity you’d never seen before.

“H-Here?” You stammered, unsure of what to think, but the ache between your thighs was quickly overcoming your senses.

“Yes.” His other hand slid up your side and rested over the strap of your gear over your breasts.

“What will it be then squad leader?” He hummed as he toyed with the buckle. You swallowed thickly but managed to nod curtly, not wanting to verbally admit your attraction to your commander.

“Use your words.” He ordered, tugging harshly on the strap, pulling you flush against his chest. You gasped, head tilting up to meet his cold gaze.

“I….want you to fuck me commander.” You grew more confident with each word, and you could see the pleased smirk curling over Erwin’s features.

“Glad we finally agree on something.” He huffed, fingers easily unbuckling the strap and then deftly unbuttoning your blouse. As he did so he walked you back against the tree, he left your shirt on, instead favoring unbuttoning your trousers. You gripped his jacket as he slid his hand down to cup your pussy. He chuckled at how wet you were, his large fingers gathering your slickness before slipping into you. You let out another gasp and pushed his jacket off of his shoulders, he withdrew from you to help you undress him as well. You only got to undo his pants before he pressed his lips to yours, tongue pushing past your lips.

He leaned down and scooped you up, hands supporting the backs of your thighs as he used the tree to keep you steady. Your head hit the tree roughly as he continued to attack your mouth, you could do nothing but open your mouth to meet his lips. He slid one of his hands up and gripped the waistband of your pants, pulling them just below your knees, it was a bit of a struggle due to the position he had you in. But you got there eventually. The air felt cool against your exposed sex, and you found yourself blushing crimson as he pressed you harder into the tree so that he could free his cock. You bit your lip in anticipation as he finally managed to pull himself free of his pants.

He pulled away from your lips, eyes lidded and clearly focused on lining himself up to your entrance. You hissed when the head of his cock slid effortlessly along the length of your pussy. Finally he pressed the tip inside of you, pausing as he shifted to grip both of your thighs and gain better leverage.

“Erwin please.” You whimpered, rocking your hips in an attempt to get him to fully sheath himself.

“Beg for it.” He hissed, breath hot against the shell of your ear before his tongue darted out and licked a stripe up the side of your neck.

“I-I need you so bad, please I need you to fuck me.” Your hands clawed at his shoulders as you used your core to keep yourself upright and legs spread for him.

“Good girl.” He growled, finally snapping his hips and sheathing himself in one thrust. You groaned at the fullness, walls stretching to accommodate his size. His own breathing seemed to grow more erratic as he began to rock his hips back and forth. Your back burned from the friction of rubbing against the tree behind you. There was no doubt about you having some kind of scratch in the morning.

You threw your head back against the trunk of the tree as he picked up the speed, hands roaming up from your thighs to your ass, you clenched your legs to wrap around his waist. Your muscles burned but the coil that was building in your stomach kept you motivated, wanting nothing more than to cum over his cock.

He grunted as you twitched around him, his hips somehow seemed to gain more speed, nose burying between the space between your neck and shoulder. You felt him leave a wet kiss there before sucking harshly on the skin. You tilted your head in the opposite direction, giving him more room as he lapped his tongue along the newly exposed skin.

“E-Erwin I think that-”

“Wait.” He snarled against your throat, biting it a bit roughly, you moaned wantonly at the action and dug your heels into the small of his back. His cock stroked along the rigid spot inside of you and you nearly screamed, barely containing your orgasm as he had asked you to. He struck that spot relentlessly, hips meeting yours harshly as he pounded into you.

“Just like that.” He groaned as he pushed you flat against the tree, using all of his strength to keep you there as he drove into you.

“Please Erwin let me cum.” You sobbed as he bit your collarbone, his dick twitched inside of you at your plea, he pulled back, icy eyes locked on your wrecked face as tears rolled down your cheeks.

“Only since you’ve been such a good girl.” He growled, and reached down between your legs, you tightened your grip on his shoulders to make up for the lost support as he pressed his calloused finger to your throbbing clit and rubbed tight circles. Your legs twitched as you felt the coil snap and your cunt clamped down around his dick. He hissed at the sudden tightness and groaned as he came as well. You felt the warmth trickle out of you as he pulled away. He held you up as you shook, coming down from the high he had given you.

“See what we can do when we work together?” He chuckled darkly, hand toying with your bra as you clung to his neck.

“Keep dreaming eyebrows.” You huffed, pulling away from him and shakily pulling your pants up. He tucked himself back into his pants and picked up his jacket from the forest floor.

“See me in my office tomorrow and we will discuss your promotion.” He called after you as you marched back towards HQ, cheeks burning from the interaction you’d just had with your commander. You threw your hand up dismissively, trying to ignore the dark chuckle he let out when he saw how flustered you were.

Maybe he wasn’t all that bad after all….

223 notes · View notes

alpacaparkaseok · 4 years ago

Text

The Pact - Shocker

Pairing/Genre: OT7 BTS x reader (not poly), idol!BTS, best friend BTS

Word Count: 8.1k

Premise: The truth about the pact the boys have about you has been revealed. What happens when you agree to go on a single date with each of them?

Warnings: angst, lots of feelings, but a lot of those are fluffy, happy feelings lol

a/n: there’s not much left so say except for thank you. I hope you enjoy, I tried my best!

Shocker (finale)

series masterlist

“Perhaps one did not want to be loved so much as to be understood.” -George Orwell ‘1984’

Sunday, 3:12 am – immediately following the events of date #7

The fact that the lights are still on isn’t surprising in the least. It’s been like this after every date. Yoongi is no exception, apparently.

He pauses outside the door, resting his hand gently against the doorknob. It’s nearly silent, but he can hear familiar voices speaking in hushed tones on the other side of the door. He stares at the dark door, unable to shake the memory of your tear-stained cheeks and swollen ankle from his mind. You had sounded so worried, so afraid of what comes next.

You’d mumbled out his name when you made it to your bed, the exhaustion on your face momentarily replaced with a look he could only interpret as blind fear. And the way you’d looked at him, wide eyed with a quivering lip…he doesn’t think you noticed, but he nearly caved. He almost laid down beside you and taken you into his arms, deeming the time on the beach not enough.

With you, it was never enough. Slivers of time and longing looks you never noticed; it would never be enough.

If the botched date wasn’t evidence enough, it was then, when you gazed up at him and mumbled out his name, Yoongi knew.

Tonight…it wasn’t enough.

So he just leaned forward and watched how your eyes fluttered shut as he pecked your nose.

“I know.”

Jungkook straightens up from where he was slumped on the couch beside Jin the second the door opens and Yoongi walks in. The scattered conversation that they had all been using as a distraction fades out as each boy focuses in on the newcomer.

Hobi is practically invisible beneath the huge sweatshirt he wears, his face barely visible as he speaks. “How was it?”

For some reason or another, there’s always been a postdate analysis of sorts. It’s usually just like this: all of the boys gathered up in the living room in various states of consciousness. Jimin was the only one to slide by without an impromptu meeting after his date, partially because he was too exhausted to see straight and also because everyone knew he’d tell them all the details at breakfast the next morning. He did, and Taehyung actually managed to break a bowl when he lost it over the story of how you and Jimin got kicked out of the basilica.

Namjoon, on the other hand, had been pretty grim when he realized that Jimin had been teasing you endlessly about your little kiss.

Now, Yoongi shuffles inside and plops down unceremoniously beside Namjoon, who looks a little worried at the silence. Dropping his heads in his hands, Yoongi rubs at his face before leaning back against the couch.

“It was fine, if you don’t count the twisted ankle.”

“What?” Jimin sputter out, suddenly wide awake. “She got hurt?”

“What happened?” Hobi follows up, leaning forward until he’s nearly slipping off of the couch. “Is she alright?”

Yoongi is quick to explain your little accident, omitting your tears from the storytelling. He doesn’t want to embarrass you or make the others feel bad. The others listen with rapt attention, Jungkook’s mouth in a little ‘o’ all throughout.

Jin remains silent on the couch, as he usually does during these little meetings. He’ll occasionally comment on something or voice a question, but he tends to remain fairly quiet. Drinking in the information, eyes clear despite the late hour.

It’s unnerving.

“So…it’s not a bad injury?” Namjoon asks, crossing his arms.

“No, she’s fine,” Yoongi reassures. “Just tired. She went straight to bed after I dropped her off.”

Taehyung grins knowingly. “Adorable.”

Everyone is silent as everyone turns to their thoughts, the same thing on everyone’s mind. It’s Hobi again that breaks the silence, stretching and yawning as he gets to his feet.

“Well, that’s that. It’s over. Gentlemen,” he eyes everyone around the room, shuffling toward the hallway where the warmth of his bed calls to him. “It’s been a pleasure working with you.”

“Wait!” Jungkook also hops to his feet, much more alert than the older boy. “What happens now?”

There are a few non-committal answers from around the room, but two people remain silent. Meeting eyes from across the space, Jin and Yoongi share a silent agreement.

Jin clears his throat, and it’s only then that the boys realize that it’s been hours since he last spoke. With a soft smile he utters, “We let her choose. Whatever she wants, if she wants to go back to normal or decides to date someone.” His eyes return to Yoongi, and suddenly the memory of two years prior is laid out before them. “Then…we let her go.”

“I’m just saying, if he didn’t want you to find it, he would’ve hidden it in his underwear drawer. Sock drawer is a stupid way to go.”

You sip at the horchata Gina brought over for you, huffing out a laugh. “You’re so weird.”

Gina shrugs. “Just saying. So what did you get up to yesterday?”

Yesterday. You had woken up with red eyes and puffy cheeks from all the crying you had done the night before. Slightly embarrassed but more feeling miserable for yourself, you had crawled to the shower and tried to get your thoughts straight.

When you emerged, you had a couple of texts to welcome you. They were from Jimin and Taehyung, welcoming you back to the groupchat. There were plenty of happy emojis and balloons taking up the messages, enough to make you crack a smile. You shot back a thank you text, letting out a sigh of relief.

It was good to be back.

When Namjoon texted and tentatively asked about the state of your ankle and if you were open to them popping over, you took nearly an hour to decide. Nervous about seeing all of them, cautious because you had no idea what would happen if you were in the same room.

Who would you radiate toward, without even realizing?

It was then, when that question popped up, that you realized that you had known the answer all along.

It was startling, how the answer had been there all along. So simple, yet so unattainable.

“The boys wanted to check in on me,” you sigh, glaring down at your ankle. It’s still sore, but much better today. Although it’s safe to say you won’t be flying kites anytime soon.

“But…?”

“The thought of all seven of them in my little apartment at the same time was overwhelming,” you admit. “I needed a minute. To think. And I know I’ve had weeks to think about it, but yesterday was the first time I felt like I could see the full picture…if that makes sense.”

Gina nods thoughtfully, reaching over to refill your glass of horchata. The sun is steadily making its way to the horizon, another day wrapping up. “It does. You’ve been going out with someone different each week, you’re probably suffering from information overload after all of those dates and the confession on the pact…how are you not exhausted?”

“I was yesterday. I was torn – Gina, I want to go back to normal so bad. Just the way it was.”

“Ignorance is bliss.”

You set your glass down, pushing back from the table and crossing your arms. “Wouldn’t that be better?” You muse. “That way, nobody gets hurt.”

Gina tilts her head to one side, eyes flashing. A smirk forms on her face. “You wouldn’t be saying this if you hadn’t already decided on someone.” She leans forward in her seat, staring into your soul. “Who?”

You school your features into a neutral position. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“No, no. You don’t get to shut me out. You have feelings for someone, don’t you!” Gina points an accusing finger at you, letting out a startled laugh. “You totally do! What went on in your head, yesterday? Or maybe you’ve loved them for a while, and this is what it took to realize it-”

“I can’t do it, Gina.” Your eyes are wide as you plead more with yourself than her. “I can’t do that to the others.”

“And what, you plan to just let him go?”

Dropping your head into your hands, you squeeze your eyes shut. “Do I have another choice?”

The scrape of the chair against the floor alerts you to Gina rising from her seat, and you expect her to leave. She has every right to, you’re frustrated with yourself as well. However, a second later she’s rubbing your back, urging you to look up. Once you do, she offers you a small smile.

“You always have a choice.”

Gina stays for a couple more hours, offering her support as you blubber on about how worried you are. While your heart is urging you to throw caution to the wind and go after what you’ve wanted for longer than you ever realized before, your mind does a great job of conjuring up different reactions from the others.

All of them are depressing. Every time you close your eyes you’re met with the crestfallen expressions of your best friends. Scenarios play out in your head, where you’re blissfully happy for a few seconds before everything comes tumbling down.

“You’ve gotta get out of your head,” Gina chides as she eases off the couch. “You’re miserable.”

You sigh, staring up at the ceiling. “It’s just…I can’t do anything. I can’t. That’s horrible of me.”

“They’re grown boys; they knew what they were getting themselves into with this. Just…tell me something before I head out.”

“…ok.”

Gina pauses before the door, hands on her hips. “Why him? Because from where I’m sitting, they all love you.”

The question takes you by surprise, but the answer is rolling off your tongue in an instant. “I want to be loved, yes. But more than that…I want to be understood.” You stare at a framed photo on the wall, solemn. “He understands me.”

You don’t hear when Gina leaves, the thoughts in your head too loud. Instead you stay seated on the couch, chewing on your lip. Wondering.

Remembering.

All the times he’d been there – he was always there for you, how could you never notice? – never drawing attention to himself. Just there. Just in case you needed him.

What’s stopping you?

A knock on the door stops your train of thought, and you hobble up to your feet. Swinging the door open you say, “Did you forget something?”

Jin stands on your porch, clutching a garment bag to his chest. His ears are bright red, set aflame by the setting sun. He’s wearing his glasses, which he pushes up on his nose. “I…no?”

“Oh!” You step back, wincing a little from your ankle. “I thought you were Gina! I…hey.”

“Hey.” Shuffling on his feet, Jin looks down at the bag he’s holding, seeming to remember why he was here in the first place. “Oh, here. I know it’s a little late, but I got your dress dry cleaned and…well, yeah. Here you go.”

His hands tremble a bit, but you don’t comment as you take the bag from him. “Thank you. Your sweater is actually hanging up in my room…why don’t you come in while I grab it?”

“Can I?” Jin looks down at your doorstep, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “I don’t want to intrude…”

“Just come in!” You call over your shoulder, already heading down the hallway. “This will only take a second. Besides, it’s cold outside.”

The door clicks shut, Jin stepping inside and shoving his hands in his pockets. You rush inside your room, throwing your dress on a hanger in the closet and scanning your clothes for Jin’s blue sweater. When you find it – grinning at the whale on the front – you pause. Holding it in your hands, you take a deep breath.

“Hey,” Jin’s voice rings out down the hallway. You catch a slight tremble in his tone, which is mirrored by your shaking hands. “I a-actually wanted to talk to you for a second. If that’s ok…?”

Clearing your voice of the emotion that’s riding you, you respond. “Just come down here.”

A second later Jin is tentatively peeking inside your room, giving you a nervous smile. His eyes then land on your dresser, widening a bit.

“So you did steal my copy!”

Gasping, you toss Jin’s sweater at him and lunge for the dresser. There’s the pact, out in the open for anyone to see. “I- I was gonna give it back-”

“I can’t believe you’d steal from me.”

“It was for a good cause!”

Jin rolls his eyes, laughing as he snatches the pact from you and holds it up in the air. “Nuh-uh, I’m taking this home with me. You’ve had it for long enough.” He makes a point of folding it up and sticking it in his back pocket, staring down at you with an amused expression.

Suddenly you’re transported to his living room, dancing in his arms. Staring up at him like he put the stars in the sky while he looks at you like you’re the forbidden fruit.

Is that why he’s here, now? To finally give in to the temptation?

From the way the smile slides off his lips, you can tell that he’s remembering the same moment. His mouth opens a bit, looking as though he’s about to speak. After a moment, it shuts. Then he slowly reaches out, arms encircling you as he studies your expression. Waiting for any moment of discomfort.

The second Jin pulls you into his embrace and you rest your head against his chest, his shoulders deflate and he lets out a long sigh.

It’s not a sigh of relief.

“Do you remember the first time we hung out together? Jimin wanted to bring you to the Spring Day set, and it was freezing. We were all complaining about our toes falling off and yelling at Namjoon for writing about such a cold song.”

You chuckle, nodding. Jin’s voice rumbles through his chest as he continues. “I thought that it was so embarrassing, too. We were complaining like kids in front of Jimin’s pretty friend. I figured that you’d never want to hang out with us again. I’ll never forget how angry Jimin was with us after, saying that we were probably making you uncomfortable. Obviously, we all said that it was stupid of him to bring you to a freezing music video set for our first meeting.”

Jin tightens his grip, laying his cheek atop your head and swaying gently back and forth. You’re not sure if he even realizes that he does it, but you don’t ask. Not as he’s walking down memory lane. It feels like it’s been centuries since you first met.

“You know what I remember the most about you from that day?”

You hum, nuzzling in a little closer. Hanging on for just a moment longer.

“You never complained. Like, at all.” Jin cups your chin, making you look up at him. He smiles softly, but his eyes are sad. “I thought it was a superpower or something, seriously. You just smiled and joked around with Jungkook and Tae. If you were cold or uncomfortable or even weirded out by us, you didn’t say anything.”

You roll your eyes, latching your hands behind Jin’s back. “I was definitely weirded out, but I didn’t want Jimin to feel bad. He was so excited for me to meet you guys.”

Jin chuckles, the sound momentarily warming you up. “But the point is, you didn’t complain. You’ve always been like that. Even now, being dragged on seven dates and having to deal with us figuring out our own feelings, you never once complained. You never backed away.”

The sadness that lingers in Jin’s eyes has you tightening your hold, wondering how to get rid of that sorrow. Your train of thought is interrupted when Jin brushes back a strand of hair, softly tucking it behind your ear.

“You are beautiful and a wonder. You will always be important to me, no matter where life takes us. You will always be that person that I’ll drop everything for, ok?” Jin takes another long, adoring look at you before reaching behind him and gathering your hands in his. He slowly pulls away from you, staring down at where he holds your hands. “I might be an idiot at times, but I can tell when I’m in the way.”

As he takes a step back, you watch as he drops your hands. “Jin, wait,” you reach out, grasping his arm as he moves to turn away. “Jin- Seokjin, what’s going on-”

“You and Yoongi have that in common, did you know that?” Jin offers you a close-lipped smile, placing his hand on yours where you cling to his jacket. His thumb swipes over your knuckles once – twice – before he’s stepping back yet again. “Neither of you are complainers. I mean sure, there’s the funny complaints that everyone makes. But he has a penchant for suffering silently. I’d say he’s a bit of a masochist, but that’d be a lie. He just cares.”

Jin has made it to your doorway now, where he pauses and leans against the doorframe. He crosses his arms, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought, a faraway look in his eyes. “I think he doesn’t know what to do with it, all those feelings. He just cares so much, about everyone. For you.”

“Jin,” you gasp out, “what are you doing?”

One corner of his lips pull up in a smirk. “Me?” He shifts his weight to his other leg. “Letting go.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I intend to complain. You’ll get an official complaint in the mail soon enough, just give it three to five business days to get here. But I realized something a little while ago: complainers always find some new to complain about. And while that sucks, it also means that they move on. They find something new, no matter how long it takes.”

He keeps looking at you with that sad smile, and it’s ripping the ground out from under you. You want to scream, throw something, or perhaps dissolve into tears. But nothing happens. You just keep breathing.

In.

Then out.

And Jin keeps speaking. He’s rambling now, something he does when he’s nervous. His brows are still furrowed, and you wonder if he’s making this up as he goes. If the only thing he knew what that he had to find a way in, only to find a way out.

“As twisted as my logic sounds, I think it gives me hope. Eventually, I’ll be ok. Probably be complaining about the weather or maybe even a girl in no time. Just give me some time, and I’ll bounce back.”

“Jin,” you croak out. “…you don’t complain, not about these things. Why are you doing this? S-stop doing this.”

“But it’s like I said: Yoongi doesn’t complain. Jagiya, I know him. Better than you do.” Jin closes his eyes, pinching them shut before opening them again. “He’ll never get over you. I mean it. And if my logic holds true…that means that you’ll never move past him, either.”

Folding his sweater over his arm, Jin steps back into the hallway. You step forward, your stomach churning.

“Seokjin!”

He hesitates for a single heartbeat, almost looking like he’ll turn back around and declare it all some twisted joke. Like he’ll pull you back into his arms and admit that he’s been inside his memories for the past two weeks, replaying “La Vie en Rose” as he lies awake at night.

But he doesn’t. He refuses to look at you as he marches down the hallway. As he walks, he continues to speak.

“I was angry that night, when you called him instead of me. When you accidentally deleted your essay. He left, and I was stuck at home, pining after you like some teenage boy. I think even then, I knew that it wouldn’t be me in the end. But I’d die trying.” He laughs, joking but it doesn’t come off very funny.

It’s when he’s reached the door and goes to pull it open that you call out to him again, sounding like you’re on the verge of tears. “But it was you, wasn’t it?” You run a hand through your hair. “You wrote the note, o-on the back of the pact.”

With his hand on the doorknob, Jin glances back at you over his shoulder. Now you understand why he couldn’t stand to look at you a moment earlier. Those are tears glistening in his eyes.

He looks at you for a long moment, eyes so clear and bare that you can see the very moment he lays down his weapons and admits defeat. “Would it change anything?”

He’s already twisting the doorknob, but just before he opens the door, he hesitates. Waiting for an answer, you realize. Some small part of him still pulses with hope, even after all he’s said.

You can’t give that hope.

“There’s a difference, you know,” Jin mumbles, eyes dropping. “Just because I loved you first doesn’t mean I can love you the best. I think sometimes the world forgets that.”

And then he’s gone.

In.

Out.

Perhaps the most shocking development has been the fact that you’re still breathing. When Jin leaves your apartment, the sky doesn’t fall. Your heart, while aching, doesn’t shatter into a million little pieces. The quiet hum of your dishwasher continues on, oblivious to all that’s transpired.

A few tears slip down your cheeks, which you quickly wipe away. When your dishwasher buzzes, you drift over to it as though in a daze. Wiping your hands on your dishtowel, you move to open the dishwasher.

But it’s that dishtowel with stitched stars that Yoongi gifted you forever ago. Stars.

You are the stars I’ve been reaching for ever since that night.

Snatching the towel from where it hands off your oven, you fumble for your phone. Dishes long forgotten, you bring the phone up to your ear and nervously tap your foot. “C’mon, c’mon…”

“Jagiya?”

“Hobi!”

“Hey, what’s up? How’s your ankle?”

You chew on your lip, struggling to regain composure. “I- yeah. The ankle’s fine. Look, I need to cash in my question now.”

Hobi chuckles on the other side of the phone. “That’s what I was afraid of. Wanna come over to the studio?”

“Be there soon.”

It’s dark outside, countless stars winking down at you as you hurry inside the Hybe building. You throw a glare up at them, wondering if they were in on it the entire time. If the stars have always been aware that Min Yoongi had no interest in them, much preferring your company to the twinkling lights in the heavens.

It’s your first time in here, the boys having recently moved into the new building. As such, you’re instantly disoriented. At a loss for where to go, you call Hobi.

“Hey, where…?”

“Turn around!”

You whirl around to see the elevator doors sliding open, Hobi hopping out. “Hey, you made it!” He instantly pulls you in for a hug, which you gratefully receive. “Everything ok, jagi?”

It’s then that you realize how you must look. Tear-stained cheeks and tired eyes don’t make for the best combination. “Oh…yeah. I’m alright.”

Hobi doesn’t believe you at all, but he doesn’t push it. Not here, out in the open lobby. Instead he pulls you into the elevator, punching one of the buttons. “Long day?”

You laugh quietly, leaning up against the wall of the elevator. “A little, yeah. What about you? What are you up to?”

“Oh, we’re recording a new Japanese OST. Wanna listen to it once we get up there?”

“Is that even a question?”

It feels unbelievably good to be here with Hobi, falling into an easy conversation despite the nervousness coursing through your veins. Once you reach the eighth floor, Hobi leads you down the hallway toward a closed door.

“What’s that?” He asks, pointing to where you still hold the dishtowel in your hands.

You blink, not even realizing that you brought it in with you. “Oh…um…part of my question, I think?”

Hobi chuckles, pausing outside of the door. “I was wondering when you were gonna use that question.”

At the end of your date with Hobi two months ago, he’d allowed you two questions about whatever you wanted to know. You only asked one, wanting to keep the other for a future time. You never thought it would lead to this.

“Ok, let’s head inside.”

Your eyes widen, but Hobi doesn’t notice as he pushes the door open and strides inside. The sight that greets you makes you want to sink through the floor.

Namjoon and Jungkook sit in front of the recording equipment, while Taehyung and Jimin lounge on the couches at the back of the room. Yoongi is busy on the other side of the glass, eyes closed as he raps into the mic. His dark hair is straight, kissing his brows while he clenches his fists at his sides,

You’re frozen in place as suddenly you’re surrounded by his voice. It’s lilting, more like singing than rapping. The words coming from his mouth stop your heart.

“Don't have to be right, just wanted you to stay the way you are, kindhearted, always smiling, but-”

“Hey!” Taehyung jumps up from his seat, alerting everyone to your presence. “You’re here!”

Jungkook swivels around in his chair, wide eyes crinkling as he grins. Namjoon quietly greets you, cheeks pink as he struggles to focus on the task at hand.

It’s Jimin that notices how lost you look. “Everything alright?” He ambles over to you, bending his knees a bit to look at you. He grabs your shoulder, eyes scanning your face. “Jagiya? Want to sit down?”

But you’re still clinging to Hobi, one hand wrapped up in the fabric of his jacket. “I…actually, Hobi, weren’t you gonna show me your new studio?”

You look back at Hobi, aware that everyone in the room is now staring at him as well with confused looks. You give Hobi a pleading look, but not before you see someone on the other side of the glass.

Yoongi stands before the microphone, frowning as he looks at you. As you lock eyes, he tilts his head to one side and mouths a single word.

Jin?

“I…uh, yeah. Yeah, let’s go look at it first and then come right back, right?” Hobi says, the confusion clear in his voice. Thankfully, he doesn’t question you and instead steps back through the door. “Be right back, guys.”

Just before you walk away, you turn back to try to communicate to Yoongi that you’re here for him, not Jin. But he’s gone, the side door to the studio still swinging from where he walked out.

Your head is still spinning by the time Hobi heads into his own studio, hardly pausing to admire it before he’s whipping around to face you. The second he closes the door, he’s crossing his arms and giving you a worried look.

“What was that all about?” He asks. “What’s going on?”

“Hobi,” you croak out. “Hobi, I need help. I need answers.”

Plopping down on his cushiony swivel chair, you squint at him. You can feel a headache coming on.

“I can’t give you the answers if you don’t ask the questions, jagi,” Hobi chides, pulling up another chair to sit in front of you. His gaze catches on your wrist. “You still wear the bracelet I made you?”

You pause, glancing down at the bracelet. “Of course. Everyday.”

Hobi smiles softly to himself before leaning back and letting out a long sigh. “Ok. Tell me what’s going on.” He eyes the star-spangled dishtowel still in your hands. “I assume this is about Yoongi?”

“I…how did you know?”

He nods to the towel, chuckling softly. “He came to me asking if I knew how to embroider. I didn’t, but I got him a little embroidery kit to practice with on tour. It cracked me up when he ended up buying plain white dishtowels and would spend his time backstage embroidering little stars on them. I didn’t know he was planning on giving them to you at the time…do you guys have some sort of inside jokes with stars or something?”

You stare at Hobi like he’s just grown a second head. “He what?”

“What?” Hobi blinks. “Did you not know that he stitched them?”

Of course not. When Yoongi had gifted you the dishtowels, you’d thought it was sweet, if a bit odd. You even remember joking with him about it, saying that he’d paid off the neighborhood grandma to do it for him.

“No! I never knew that! Why would I…why would he…”

“So…you don’t have an inside joke about stars?”

You sigh, throwing a hand over your eyes. “How could I be so blind?” Slumping down in the chair you ask miserably, “I mean, it makes sense, I guess…he’s done so many things-”

At this, Hobi stops you. “Like what?”

There is a long, long list of things that Yoongi did for you that he never told the boys.

“Or there’s that time he passed up on his Laker’s tickets because I had that end-of-year project due, and I was worried that nobody would show up to my presentation.”

You remember that with a jolt. You had to give a twenty minute presentation on the effects of addiction, something that hardly seemed like a riveting topic. The general public was invited to the lecture hall, but despite your valiant efforts handing out fliers and sending e-vites, you were convinced that it was going to be a flop.

It was. There were about seventeen people scattered about the hall that typically seated three hundred. Your hands were shaking and you thought you might burst into tears on stage because you felt like an utter failure, but then movement caught your eyes.

Sneaking in and taking a seat on the very back row, sat Yoongi. His bucket hat was pulled low across his eyes and a couple of body guards tried (and failed) to looked inconspicuous as they took seats near him. When you stuttered, he help up a thumbs up and quietly encouraged you to go on.

Jin’s words from earlier come back to you. I think he doesn’t know what to do with it, all those feelings. He just cares so much, about everyone. For you.

By this point, you’re exhausted with all of the things Yoongi has done over the years. How blind you’ve been to his unadulterated kindness. Hobi senses it, seeing your shoulders droop. He falls silent, allowing you to sort out your thoughts before you speak.

“Does he still want me?”

Looking up at Hobi, you allow yourself to feel the question at you repeat it. “How could he still want me? After how blind I’ve been to my own feelings?”

Hobi smiles softly, leaning forward to take your hand in his. He gives it a reassuring squeeze. “Jagi…I don’t think Yoongi completely understood his own feelings most of the time.”

“But he’s done so much-”

“That he has. But when you love someone, you don’t do those kinds of things for gain. He didn’t do those things to make you fall in love with him.” Hobi laughs to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. “He did it because you’re the right person. And when you’re with the right person, it’s simple. Does he still want you? Simple.” He shrugs. “Yes.”

Yoongi is gone, Jungkook tells you when the boys eventually come knocking at Hobi’s studio. They sit in a semi-circle, pondering all that they’ve learned. Hobi had quickly explained the situation to them, and despite your worry, nothing happened.

Nobody yelled, nobody banished you from their life.

Instead, Jimin had laughed. Laughed.

“Pay up, loser,” he’d commanded as he elbowed Taehyung. Taehyung whined and said that he’d Venmo him in a second.

“Wait, you made a bet?” You shriek. “About who I’d go for?!”

The boys all laugh nervously, Namjoon slowly edging toward the door. You snap your fingers at him, glaring. “You don’t get to leave, Kim. Were you a part of this?”

“I…yeah…”

“But Yoongi’s gone,” Jungkook repeats. “Aren’t you gonna tell him?”

You sigh. “How am I supposed to tell him? Just march up to him and throw myself at him?”

Namjoon shrugs. “I mean, that’d work for me.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook chuckles darkly. “Just go for that.”

Hobi rolls his eyes, leaning forward in his seat. “Just do whatever you feel comfortable with, jagiya. But do it soon. You’ll psych yourself out if you wait much longer.”

It feels like you’ve time-traveled back to middle school, gossiping around the lunch table about your crush. Somehow, that’s comforting. While there’s a bit of awkwardness in the air, you can’t help but feel like you’re back.

“Oh,” Taehyung snaps his fingers, mouth open in a little ‘o’, “but whatever you do, make sure there’s cookies. Or some sort of dessert.”

“What?”

“You know, to celebrate if he accepts your confession, or to make you feel better if he rejects you.”

Gasping, you jump up to your feet. You point an accusing finger at Hobi. “But you said that he’d still want me!”

“He does! Taehyung, take that back right now.”

Tae stands up, his grin softening as he steps forward. That’s when you see how much they’ve been hiding behind their playful demeanors. For you. To help you.

Wrapping you up in a hug, Taehyung squeezes you tight. “It’ll be fine. Don’t you worry.” And then, quieter so no one else can hear, “We’ll be fine.”

You’ve never considered yourself to be a nervous baker, but here you are. Sliding another cookie sheet into the oven while two batches are cooling on your kitchen table.

By the time you made it home last night, you could hardly keep your eyes open. While sleep did come to you relatively quickly, you were wide awake the second the sun crested the horizon. Wide awake, and a nervous wreck.

Is this how the boys felt when they came to take you out? If so, they deserve a medal of bravery. You’re still within the comfort of your own home, but you can hardly breathe properly.

Perhaps that has something to do with the fact that Yoongi just sent you a text that he’s on his way. Bouncing on your feet, you run your hands under the cold water in an effort to rid yourself of clammy palms. Drying your hands on the infamous dishtowel, you smile softly.

Everything is going to be ok.

Yoongi doesn’t get there for a long time. It’s long enough that you’re worried, and you pick up your phone to call him. A second later, you hear another phone ringing just outside your door. Hardly believing it, you rush toward the front door only to pause.

“Here we go.”

Swinging the door open, you come face to face with a guilty looking Yoongi. He’s halfway back down the stairs, but freezes in his steps as he hears the door open.

“Yoongi?” You’re absolutely bewildered. “Where are you going?”

Letting out a breathy laugh, Yoongi slowly begins trekking back up the stairs. “Oh…um…I thought I left something in the car.”

“That’s a lie, isn’t it?”

“What, are we not lying to each other today?”

Smiling softly, you shake your head and open the door a little wider. “No. Not today, I’m afraid.”

Something akin to fear flashes in Yoongi’s eyes at your words, but a second later he’s back to normal. “Smells great. Are you baking cookies?”

“I’ve baked about a thousand, yeah. Can’t stop. It’s a condition.” You ramble as you turn and head into the kitchen, hoping that he’s following. The sound of his footsteps confirms that he is. “Want some?”

When he doesn’t answer, you turn around to see what’s going on.

Yoongi stands beside your table, fists clenched in the sleeves of his cardigan. He’s practically staring holes into the sweet treats, brows furrowed as he takes a deep breath. When he exhales, it’s shaky.

“I’m fine, you know,” he grinds out, not looking at you. “You didn’t need to bake me cookies. I’m not…I’m not mad.”

“Mad? What?”

“Isn’t this why you brought me over? To let me down easy?” His voice is quiet, yet every word is like a bullet. “That’s why you were at the studio last night, wasn’t it? You were talking to the others about Jin.”

Your heart stops.

Is that why he disappeared last night? He thought that you’d made your decision, and it wasn’t him?

“Yoongi, that’s not-”

He’s already stepping back, refusing to look at you. His eyes are trained on the floor as he stumbles back toward the entryway, looking like he’s doing his best not to full out sprint. “I’m fine, jagiya. I know you’re worried sick about us, but don’t worry. I already told you not to worry, don’t you remember? I shouldn’t have said all of those stupid things on the beach…is that why you brought me over? You felt like I needed some sort of special treatment?”

You take off after him, unable to believe what you’re hearing. “Yoongi, listen to me. This is for you. It’s all for you.”

But he doesn’t hear you, he’s busy fumbling with his shoes that he slipped off beside the door. His hands are shaking, but he still refuses to look at you. “I’m so sorry for worrying you,” he says earnestly. His black hair is falling in his eyes, but it doesn’t shield his pink cheeks from your eyes. “I…wow, this is humiliating, isn’t it? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come-“

“I invited you-”

“-but I didn’t want to worry you even more, so I came over – why can’t I get these shoes on?!” He collapses to his knees, dropping his head into his hands as he finally gives up on his shoes. “Even that was a stupid mistake,” he whispers, never one to raise his voice. “I bought these for our date but then I realized that they would be stupid to wear to the beach.” He laughs at himself, no humor in the sound.

You take a look at the dark shoes, which appear to be made of leather. They lace up, but it’s obvious that they’re not broken in yet. Crouching down beside Yoongi, who keeps his face hidden in his hands, you struggle to find words.

“They look nice,” you mumble, voice raw. Have you been screaming? Or perhaps it’s the emotional exhaustion, finally setting in. “Very pretty.”

“I wanted to wear them for you. Just once.” Taking a deep breath, Yoongi sits back and brings his knees up to his chest. He back presses against the back of your couch.

And you’re here. Sitting beside him in the entryway to your small apartment. So far away from where you thought you’d be.

As Yoongi glares at his shoes, you notice just how bloodshot his eyes are. Like he hasn’t slept in days.

“Isn’t it odd?” He muses, tired eyes dragging over to meet yours. You’re unable to breathe as he stares at you without the barriers he usually puts up for himself. For the first time you can ever remember, Yoongi looks at you and lets you see everything. Perhaps he’s too tired to mask the longing anymore.

Your voice comes out as nothing more than a whisper. “What’s odd?”

He inhales sharply before breathing out slowly. “After everything, I’m still trying to impress you.”

The small confession strikes you like a bolt of lightning, and you screw your eyes shut. Once the feeling passes and you’ve composed yourself, you open your eyes again to find Yoongi’s again on his shoes. He nibbles on his bottom lip as he reaches out and eases his shoe from your hands. Then, he slips it on his foot.

As he begins to tie the laces, you open your mouth to say all of the things you should have a long time ago.

“I see you everywhere I go.” Your eyes are trained on his deft fingers as he pauses for a moment before continuing to lace up his shoe. “For a long time, I didn’t know what to do about it. I just brushed it off as a side effect of our friendship. In my mind, it was better to ignore it than to face it, because then what? I could never have you.”

His hands are trembling again as he finishes his right shoe and reaches for the left.

“You’ve always been so good. There whenever I needed you, there just in the off-chance I called. On stand-by, like my own personal assistant.” You chuckle, perhaps a little insane by this point. “And I convinced myself that whatever that was between us, it was enough. It was just gonna be me and my seven best friends for the rest of my life. But then…things started to change. You guys challenged me to view you as something more.”

He’s nearly finished tying his shoe now, your time is nearly out. But he fumbles, unable to quite finish.

“That night you guys came up with the dating idea, I knew I was walking into a trap. I wasn’t worried about anyone crossing any boundaries, I was worried about me making the biggest mistake of my life. Sitting there I think I was starting to realize I had feelings for you, and I was one slip-up away from hurting everyone else.” Now he stops breathing. But his fingers are still slowly working at the laces. “I cared for you then, but I loved you when you showed up at my door seven dates later.”

He’s just managed to finish tying his shoe when you stop speaking. He doesn’t speak, only staring down at those laces with wide eyes as he processes what you just said. You take his silence in stride, still talking. Still confessing.

“I didn’t know how to tell you that I was torn between the what-if’s and the what-is. That I was drowning in the possibilities everyone was offering me, but that when I was with you I was finally able to see the world for what it is. But you just said, ‘I know’ and I thought that you did. I figured you knew, because you’re you, how could you not know what I was thinking? You always do.”

Yoongi stops nibbling on his lip long enough to voice a question, his voice hoarse. “The world for what it is…what is it?”

You take courage in his curiosity, deeming this a good development. “It’s only tolerable because you’re in it.”

He falls silent again, deep in his thoughts.

“Yoongi,” you call softly, heart hammering against you ribs. “Could you look at me for a second?”

He does, eyes wide with confusion.

Those eyes, the ones you see everywhere you go. Crinkled up in laughter, joking with you over something stupid. Proudly watching you from the back row as you present to a small crowd. Filled with adventure as you sneak your hand into his pocket at the haunted house, inviting you to dive inside.

It was those eyes that you saw looking back at you that night with Jungkook, out of breath and lost as suddenly it wasn’t Jungkook kissing you, but Yoongi. That forbidden dream become real as you squeezed your eyes shut and allowed yourself to pretend for a moment longer before pulling away.

It’s now, looking into Yoongi’s dark eyes that hold so much promise, that you find it easier than ever to say what you should have said that night when he showed up to help you with your essay. Looking frazzled but ready to swim the entire ocean if it would help you. Instead, you had just given him a lingering hug before excusing yourself to go to your room and sleep.

Sleep hadn’t found you that night, because you had been awake and asking your ceiling why a man like Min Yoongi would do anything for you.

“Yoongi,” you whisper. “I love you.”

He doesn’t move, but just blinks. Once. Twice. You see the doubt swirling in his eyes, so when you reach out to pull at his shoelace, you repeat it.

“I love you.”

One shoe at a time, you untie the laces. You undo the pain you’ve caused him, break down the barriers he put up.

“I love you.”

You continue to repeat the words, focusing on his shoes and not daring to look up at him just yet. Not until you get his shoes off, because then you feel like he can’t run away.

So you undo the knots and repeat those words with a shaking voice. “I love you, Yoongs.” When you go to slip the shoes from his feet, he helps you, kicking them off and reaching forward to place his hand under your chin and make you look at him.

Yoongi is crying when you look at him, the tears falling silently. A part of you wonders if he even realizes that he’s crying.

“You…” he swallows, those eyes so wide. “…love me?”

It’s simple.

“Yes.”

Yoongi furrows his brows again, trying to understand everything that’s happening. “But…Jin.”

There will be time to explain everything. For now, you answer the question Jin asked you yesterday, standing before this very door. “The pact, the note. It doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change how I feel. He came over yesterday to ‘let go’, he said.”

Something like recognition flashes across Yoongi’s face at those two words, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead he nods slowly, trying to follow what you’re saying. “And you feel…”

“I feel very in love with you, yes.”

What happens next is burned into your memory for the rest of your life.

Yoongi sits up, reaching across to you in a flash, pulling you until you’re falling forward. He lets out a shaky breath, pulling you into his lap just like he did on the beach. And as he holds you, he laughs. He’s still laughing as he plants a soft kiss to your forehead. He’s grinning as he presses his lips to your cheeks.

Tears are still falling down his cheeks as he brushes his lips against your own. Hesitantly, as though worried you might pull away and tell him it was all a joke.

You return the kiss fervently, speaking in a language only you two can understand. He pulls away, staring down at you as though surprised to find that you’re really here and not just a figment of his imagination.

“I love you,” he whispers. And then he’s kissing you in earnest.

Breathlessly, desperately, and with a touch of insanity that only comes after spending two nights wide awake and heartbroken. As he holds you tight and kisses you harder, you know that he’s healing himself with each touch.

One kiss, one shattered fragment of his heart sliding back into place.

Your hands wrap around his neck and wind into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer as he gasps and whispers those three words again. “I love you.”

When the smell of burnt cookies pulls you apart several minutes later, Yoongi wraps his arms around your waist and sticks to you like glue. He rests his chin on your shoulder, planting a few lazy kisses along your jaw that sets your skin aflame. “Mm, I love you,” he mumbles between kisses.

Placing the burnt cooking atop the stove, you chuckle. “I know.”

“Agh,” Yoongi groans, burying his head in your shoulder. “I thought you meant something different, ok?”

“I know.”

“Yah! I was trying to be understanding of your feelings I thought you had for Jin!”

Reaching to turn off the oven, you grin. “I’m never letting you live that down.”

As Yoongi feigns annoyance while shoveling cookies into his mouth, you marvel at all it took to get to this point. Yoongi notices your attention, puffy cheeks turning pink. But he doesn’t shy away, instead he silently offers you a cookie.

“So…” he begins, a smirk playing on his lips. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Dangerous.”

“Well, I know how much you like bad boys.”

“Mm, true.”

Yoongi laughs along with you before continuing. His eyes sparkle like the night sky, drawing you in. “Are you free this Saturday?”

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lacharcutiere · 3 years ago

Text

give me one night [nsfw 18+, sawamura daichi]

1,2k words

masterlist | next ➪

part one of i'm gone i'm gone i'm gone miniseries. high school graduation is a very bad time to realize you're in love with one of your closest childhood friends.

lol just to clarify, JST means "japanese standard time". i'll also be using EST later on, meaning "eastern standard time" (aka the time zone new york is in). JST is 13 hours ahead of EST !

tings // briefly referenced alcohol consumption, v soft n loving sex :) , a lil angst // i swear this søng is abøut eating øut my best friend's pussy - cøzybøy // dm, ask or comment to be added to the taglist ! minors dni.

— AFTER-GRAD PARTY: 27TH MARCH, 2021. 22:37 JST.

daichi’s always hated obligatory picture-taking, but he doesn’t mind it so much now. maybe it’s because of the thoughts about how these are your last few months together, the questions about whether he’ll see you again after it’s over. it’s been only hours since he realized he loved you, watching you walk across the stage, dazzling smile on your face as you received your diploma. he’s got one arm around your shoulders (and the other around kōshi’s) as parents and friends stand around you guys, snapping picture after picture until he’s sure he’s about to go blind from the flash.

out of nowhere, you pull the brim of his graduation cap down over his face, and he laughs. he loves you. and it’s a terrible time to realize that, because you’ll be leaving for new york by august. he’s lucky, at least, that he won’t be headed off to college until then either; he doesn’t know what he’d do if he didn’t get to see you again before you leave.

your voice, glittery with laughter, startles him out of his thoughts: “dude, y’okay?”

“oh, ha, yeah. i’m fine.” he notices a group of your other friends waving you over, nudges you toward them with a little laugh. “hey, i think you're needed elsewhere.”

you’re like magic, making him smile as he watches you laugh with your friends, exchange hugs, take a thousand more photos.

☾𓆙𓂻

you are like magic. he doesn’t drink often, but hey, kōshi tells him, we graduated, have some fun, man, and a few beers—just enough to blur the line between want and need—in you’re drawing him to you; he literally cannot stay away. he’s going to tell you he loves you. he has to. he absolutely cannot keep it a secret. he cannot keep you a childhood friend and nothing more. he thinks he might implode if he does.

— AFTER AFTER-GRAD PARTY: 28TH MARCH, 01:12 JST.

somehow you’re in his bed, he doesn’t know how you got there, not because he’s intoxicated but because all he can focus on is you. you, as you giggle and press his shoulders back into the pillows, kneeling on his mattress and trapping him between your thighs; you, as you ghost your lips down his throat and allow him to undo the zip on the back of your dress; you, as you stand and let it fall to the floor, leaving him in heaven and the presence of a goddess.

he can’t even fathom how complete he feels when he’s inside you, your arms around his shoulders, tugging at his hair and scratching into his back. he doesn’t understand how there can possibly exist a sound as beautiful as you when you cum, whining and shivering and clinging even tighter to him. he loves the way you say his name, soft, breathless whispers of daichi, daichi, fuuuck, loves the way your lips part when you do, soft and pink as he brings them back to his own.

— 07:43 JST.

was it all a dream? it must have been; there’s no one else in his bed. but there are cumstains on the sheets which prove otherwise. he’s almost afraid to text you.

— 16:31 JST.

☾𓆙𓂻

he arrives to pick you up a couple minutes early, sending you a simple I’m here text and leaning against the hood of his car as he stands outside and waits for you. when you step out the door, his breath catches. the smile you meet him with is mesmerizing.

☾𓆙𓂻

“so… what now?” you ask him over half-finished bowls of udon. after nearly an hour of avoiding it, it’s probably best to address what the two of you came here for in the first place.

daichi sighs, trying to balance rationality with the fact that he’s definitely in love with you. he realizes he still hasn’t asked you what your feelings are, and although he’s almost scared to know, he counters with a question of his own. “what do you want to do?”

“i dunno, what do you think—“

“no,” he says. “forget about what we should do, for now. i wanna know what you want first.”

his eyes don’t leave you as you avert your own, staring down into your soba and thinking. your cheeks flush and he swears he can feel his pulse speed up. when you look back up at him, your expression is soft and almost sad.

“i kinda want this,” you say, and suddenly everything stops except you. “i do want this.”

“okay…” he nods, urging you on vaguely aware of where this is going.

“but. new york. columbia. i already accepted their offer. and, i don’t know…”

“hm?” his tone is gentle.

“i don’t… i don’t think i could do long distance.” you pause to try and collect your thoughts; he waits for you to continue. “i don’t think that would be a good idea. because i don’t even know how often i’m gonna get to come back home. and, um, i don’t know—i mean, like, if we were actually together—i don’t think i’d be able to just not see you, you know?”

you’re right, he knows you’re right. he tells you this.

“but i do really want this,” you say quietly.

“me too.”

“so what do i do?”

“tell me your plans after college again.”

you shrug. “get my master’s, i guess? get a job in sendai or something?”

“okay,” he says. “okay. i’ll wait.”

“what?”

“i’ll wait,” he repeats simply. “i mean, if you’re okay with it, too.”

“what do you mean, you’ll wait?”

“we can, like, just keep things the way they've always been until we can make it work? until we’re both done undergrad, at least.” he stops, realizing he might be going too far too fast. “sorry.” and then quieter, almost shyly, he asks, “i— uh, sorry, i— how much do you want this?”

you shake your head at him, and there’s a tiny smile playing on your lips. “i’ll wait.”

— PRE-DEPARTURE: 20TH AUGUST, 2021. 18:32 JST.

somehow he’s managed to convince your parents to let him drive you to the airport separately tomorrow morning. they probably assume there’s something going on between the two of you already; you hadn’t hung out nearly this much since elementary school, when they’d still been the ones arranging your play dates. no one really minds, though; your families were always close and anyway, it really is just a matter of time.

he’s just finished dinner with your family when he nudges his knee against yours under the table. “spend the night at mine?” he says quietly, although he knows your parents will still hear. it’s fine; they love him. he watches you look to them in question, half surprised when your mother nods and allows you to go.

☾𓆙𓂻

on the walk back to his—just a few streets down, actually, he catches you thinking out loud. “is this a good idea?”

“is what?”

“you know... to, like, stay over. at yours.”

he laughs. “we won’t do anything, promise. friends for now, remember?”

“okay.”

— 23:32 JST.

you’ve fallen asleep next to him, in his bed, midway through the second movie of the night. he notices almost immediately, shuts his laptop and turns out the light. he pulls you into his chest, arms firmly around you. just this night. just for one night, he doesn’t have to let go.

taglist: @sakruisin-thru @softetsurou @oligbia

#haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #daichi x reader angst #daichi x reader fluff #daichi x reader smut #daichi x reader #daichi sawamura #sawamura daichi #haikyuu series #daichi texts #haikyuu smau #? kinda

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drabbles-mc · 4 years ago

Text

Exhaustion

Kozik x F!Reader

Request by Anon: Can I get a Kozik x female reader, where she comes home one day from a busy work day - and she sits down next to Kozik. Some time passes, then the sons realise that she has fallen asleep on him - and maybe just some light teasing for Kozik ensues, as he carefully shifts to carry her to a quieter room. Then, she wakes at a later point, still half asleep, mutters some almost incoherent confession to Kozik, and falls asleep again. Then, he addresses the situation the next day and fluff!!!

Warnings: language, alcohol

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: We love some soft, sleepy confessions in this house! I switched up the location a little bit and also this totally tweaks the canon timeline but it’s fine we’re just here to have a good time lol. Did I write this on a Sunday night knowing I was taking Monday off because the previous week drained me so much I needed an extra day?? Maybe. Did I indulge in the softness of this to cope with that?? Definitely lmao. Also, if this trope is something that you’re interested in, I have a Juice Fic that runs along the same lines.

Join my group-chat here: (X)

SOA Taglist: @garbinge @mayans-sauce @masterlistforimagines @adela-topaz-caelon @mijop @chibsytelford @xladymacbethx @i-just-read-stuff @kkim120 @multiyfandomgirl40 @toni9 @unicornucopia-fuckers @shadow-of-wonder (If you want to be added to the taglist just let me know!)

It'd been a rough day, and overall an exhausting week at work. Everything in you was telling you to just go home and go to sleep because your entire body was screaming for rest. But as you were walking out to your car, you’d gotten a message from Kozik inviting you over to his place. He had a few of the guys over to drink beer and watch the fights that were on that night. It wasn’t going to be anything crazy, and it wouldn’t be as big of a crowd as it usually was. Not having a clubhouse for the time being meant that the get-togethers were a bit smaller, which suited you just fine, especially on days like the one you were having. You figured that maybe a good time and a distraction might be a nice way to end a bad week.

You had become an expert at changing in your car over the years. You hated going placed still in your work clothes, so you always kept a spare set of comfortable, casual clothes in your back seat just in case last-minute plans popped up, like they just had. The hoodie and leggings that you had swapped into were much better suited for hanging out with the guys than what you wore to work.

Pulling into Kozik’s driveway, you saw a few of the bikes parked out front. You smiled, instantly recognizing which bike belonged to each biker. Taking a deep breath to prepare yourself, you grabbed your purse off the passenger seat and hopped out of the car, locking the vehicle behind you as you made your way up to his front steps. You knocked as you let yourself in, which you supposed defeated the purpose of the knock.

Kozik materialized in front of you, having heard you knocking over the sound of the television. A smile spread across his face as he watched you take your shoes off and toss your purse off the to the side.

“You made it,” he laughed as he wrapped you in a hug, “Didn’t know if you were actually going to show. I know it’s been a rough week.”

You let yourself lean into him for a few moments before responding, “It was a close one, I won’t lie to you.”

He chuckled, “Well, if you wanna bail you know you can. I won’t take it personally.”

“Rest of us might, though!” Jax piped up from the living room with a smirk.

“And maybe some of you should,” you shot back with a smile, causing both of you to laugh.

“Go, sit,” Kozik nudged you towards the living room, “I’ll grab you a beer.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. You immediately made your way over to the couch and sat down, gently bumping your knee against Juice’s in a silent greeting. He flashed you a warm smile before returning his attention to the television. Hardly a minute later, Kozik was sitting down on the other side of you and placing a nice cold beer in your hand. You smiled and nodded to him in thanks before taking a long drink from it.

“Day was that good, huh?” he asked somewhat quietly.

You chuckled and leaned against his side, “Whole fucking week has been that good. Just one fucking issue after another.”

“I’m sorry,” there was genuine concern in his eyes, “If you wanna go home you c—”

You shook your head, “No, no I’m good. Honestly, I think what I need is probably to just watch these dudes beat the shit out of each other,” you laughed quietly.

“Always makes me feel better,” he laughed as he casually draped his arm around your shoulders.

You didn’t comment on the closeness the two of you were sharing, on the warmth you felt radiating from his body and flowing over into yours. It was comforting, the kind of safety and reassurance you needed after a week from hell. You could feel Juice’s eyes on the two of you from the other end of the couch as he smirked at you, and you gave him a gentle kick in the shin, causing him to laugh and divert his attention to more important things. Kozik gave your shoulder a light squeeze and you let out a sigh of relief as you melted against him.

At some point, despite the cheering and joking that was happening around you, you fell asleep against Kozik’s side. Kozik hadn’t noticed, too busy being wrapped up in the fights and trying to figure out if he was going to win the bets he’d waged with the guys for the winners of the night. It wasn’t until he heard the soft thud of your empty beer bottle slipping from your fingers and onto the floor that he figured it out. He glanced down at you, halfway through a sentence asking if you were okay, when he saw you fast asleep against his side.

He was gazing down at you, trying to figure out what to do with you, when he heard Jax’s laughter. “She is knocked out, bro,” he chuckled.

“Yea, she is,” Kozik shook his head, “I can’t just wake her up…right?”

“No, don’t be an asshole,” Opie chimed in, shaking his head with a knowing smile, “Just let her sleep.”

“And, honestly,” Juice chuckled as he looked at you passed out against Kozik, “something tells me you couldn’t wake her up right now even if you tried.”

“Probably not,” Kozik laughed as he mulled that observation over in his mind for a few seconds. With a light sigh he stood up and carefully lifted you off the couch, draping you over his arms, “I’ll be back,” he said to the guys with a laugh as he carried you out of the fray of his living room, even though it clearly hadn’t bothered you enough to stop you from falling asleep in the first place.

“Yea, there you go, Prince Charming,” Jax called after him with a laugh, “Whisk her away.”

He carried you to his room and gently deposited you onto the bed. He was pulling the blanket up over you when you sleepily reached out and tugged at his arm. For a moment he was startled, but when he saw the exhausted look in your hooded eyes, he had to smile.

“Go back to sleep,” his voice was soft, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Where you going?” you mumbled, fingers wrapping gently around his forearm.

He smiled as he placed his free hand over yours, “Just back to the living room—fights are still on.”

“Kozik?” your eyes were already shut again as you laid against the pillow on his bed.

“Yea?” he couldn’t hide his amusement at how you were when you were sleepy.

“I think I’m a little,” you yawned as your hand loosened and fell from his arm onto the bed beside you, “a little in love with you.”

Your words caught him off-guard, but before he could even try to respond to them, you were passed out again, sprawled out over his bed. He stood there for a few moments, just looking at you and hearing your sleepy voice ringing in his head over and over. He raked his fingers back through his hair and took a deep breath before forcing himself to return to the rest of the people who were still at his house.

“All good, brother?” Opie saw the slightly dazed look on Kozik’s face and couldn’t help but to ask.

It snapped him out of it, and he smiled as he sat back down on the sofa, “Yea, all good.”

Kozik had opted to sleep on the couch for the night after everyone else had left. He woke up to the smell of coffee and the sound of you trying to quietly get things out of the kitchen cupboards and failing. He slowly sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. When it was finally able to focus his vision, he felt his entire body get warm at the sight of you sleepily snooping around his kitchen trying to make your coffee.

“Good morning,” he said as he swung his legs, feet landing softly on the floor.

“Oh,” you spun around, coffee mug cupped tightly in your hands, not realizing that he was awake, “Morning,” you paused, “Coffee?”

He nodded, “Yea, sure.”

You made two cups and brought them over, handing one over to him as you sat down on the couch next to him. The outside of your leg rested against his as you each sipped on your coffee, letting a comfortable silence fill the room.

After a couple minutes you looked over at him with a smile, “Sorry for passing out here last night—guess I can’t hang like I used to.”

He chuckled and shook his head, “Don’t apologize. I’m surprised you even came over. I know your week was…shitty.”

You laughed nodding, “It was. But I dunno, I like hanging out here, with you.”

He figured that there wasn’t going to be a better time to bring up what you had said the night before, so he did, “Hey, um, can I…can I talk to you about something?”

You turned your head to face him, nodding, “Of course.”

“Last night, when I brought you to bed. You, um, you mentioned something that I just feel like I should probably ask you about?”

You groaned, “Fuck. What’d I say? I swear, Kozik, I’m never trying to make you uncomfortable or—”

“You didn’t,” he didn’t want to allow you to continue going with that train of thought, “You didn’t make me uncomfortable at all. You just…you said that you’re in love with me.”

Nerves shot throughout your entire body. You couldn’t even blame the confession on the booze, only having had one drink. It was just exhaustion and lowered inhibitions that got you to spill your feelings. It was hard to gauge from the look on his face where exactly he landed with it.

“You don’t have to try and save my feelings if you don’t feel the same way,” you told him with a shake of your head, “I’m sorry I even put you in this position at all.”

“Do you?”

“What?”

“Do you love me?” his eyes desperately searched yours.

You nodded, not able to say anything else for a moment. When you finally got your words in order, you said, “I do. I have for a while. I’m sorry if—”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence as he closed the distance between the two of you and pressed his lips to yours. It caught you by surprise, and it took you a second to truly realize what was going on, but once you did you leaned into him, reveling in the way his hand felt as he came to cup the side of your face.

“I love you too,” he said, a little breathless as he took his lips off of yours.

You felt yourself smiling uncontrollably as you looked at him, “Sorry I just dropped that on you as I was passing out last night. Little bit of a dick move.”

“Wanna know what else was a dick move?” he asked with a cheeky smile.

“What’s that?”

“You said that you’re only a little in love with me,” he laughed at the way you shrank back out of embarrassment. He set his coffee mug down so he could pull you back closer to him, “C’mon, you know I’m kidding. It was cute.”

“Yea?” your eyes searched his face.

He nodded, “Yea,” he kissed you softly on the lips, “But you do love me more than just a little, right?”

You laughed, nodding as you cupped his face in your hands, “Of course.”

#sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy imagine #soa #soa imagine #kozik #herman kozik #kozik x reader #herman kozik x reader #herman kozik x you #kozik x you #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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jamespotterthefirst · 3 years ago

Text

The Viper (AU: Ethan x f!MC)

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Words: 1.5 K Warning: Cursing. Mentions of s e x Summary: Detective Ramsey is a step closer to capturing a notorious criminal. If only Miss Allende, a key witness, would cooperate.

Author’s Note: I am an idiot because the beautiful @beastlyinstrument sent me this AU prompt and I didn't know I was to write a fic. Anyway, once I caught on, I got right to work on this lol. Thank you so much for the prompt! Thank you immensely to @aestheticartsx for pre-reading!

When Ethan awoke that morning, he couldn't possibly predict he'd be punching Declan Nash square in the jaw. It was a long standing fantasy of his and finally, in the crowded, smoke-filled bar, Ethan had found a good enough excuse to do it. One minute, the lecherous pig was forcing his company on the visibly distressed blonde, the next Ethan was shoving him away and punching him with such spectacular force that Nash flew back into a storm of glasses, bottles, and furniture.

Ethan also never imagined his hand, red and swollen from the satisfying impact against Nash's leering face, would be tended to in a desolate dressing room by the loveliest woman he had ever set eyes on. Then again, his mind would require an exceptional measure of talent to invent the perfect arch of her brows, the graceful slope of her nose, the lush swell of her lips. And those eyes— almond-shaped, bright, and the most captivating shade of green imaginable.

Alluring green eyes that were currently meeting his, sending his pulse into an elated flutter.

“All better,” she informed him in that caress of a voice.

Something about the spark in her eyes as she watched him put in a comfortable and flirtatious lull, so much unlike his usual self. The same warm ease had blossomed in his chest when his eyes met hers from across the bar only minutes ago.

“Are you certain you're not a doctor, Miss…”

“Allende,” she supplied, red lips curling into a coy smile. “And no doctors here, just years of experience cleaning up messes. Though if they all looked as handsome as you, I wouldn't mind patching them up.”

She punctuated the heady little pronouncement with a wink that almost made his breath hitch. Ethan's good hand twitched at his side just as she moved away to a vanity. All he could do was watch as she placed herself in front of the lighted mirror, reapplying her lipstick with skilled precision.

“So what brings you here, Detective Ramsey? Don't tell me you just stopped by to defend my honor from the likes of Declan Nash.”

“Though an honorable pursuit, that's not the reason for my visit,” he said, their eyes meeting through the mirror. “I'm here to investigate the Kenmore bank robbery from two nights ago.”

Miss Allende hummed in acknowledgement but added nothing more.

“A reliable source claimed I could come here to find all the information I needed about the Viper.”

She raised her perfectly shaped brows at him.

“You think the Viper is a regular here?”

“It's what I'm here to find out.”

There was a pause in which she realized his intent. To his surprise, she laughed.

“And you think I'm the one who's going to rat the Viper out?”

When Ethan said nothing, only held her gaze steadily, she laughed even more still. This time, Ethan could hear an edge to the sound, something akin to fear.

“I'm not that keen on making enemies, Detective.”

In the silence that followed, she carefully brushed the platinum blonde curls that cascaded down to her shoulders. Those green eyes remained fixed on her reflection, and something told him she was studiously avoiding his eye. His instinct told him she was afraid, despite how masterfully she tried to hide it under the flirtatious veil. To his astonishment, his stomach clenched unpleasantly, the urge to protect her tightening his jaw.

Before he could think of a tactful way to continue his questioning, she rose to her feet, smoothing the front of the black dress clinging to her skin. “Now, if that was everything, Detective Ramsey, I really must be getting back to the bar. I'm due on stage in less than ten minutes.”

Ethan intercepted her before he could stop himself as she moved to the door.

“Please, Miss Allende—”

“Lilac.”

“What?”

“My name. You can call me Lilac.”

“That's—”

Beautiful.

He had never heard anything like it.

“Lilac. Anything you might know about the criminal known as the Viper will be of great help.”

Lilac paused, studying his expression for any trustworthiness she could cling on to. Ethan gazed back, acutely aware of how close their faces were in the silence. Something slipped in her guarded expression, revealing a small hint of vulnerability.

At last, she sighed.

“I can't,” she said in a quiet voice. “I'm not—”

“I will protect you.”

Lilac startled at that, as though she had seldom heard the words before. She swallowed, her gaze holding his as she considered his offer, something heavy and tangible pressing into the small space that separated them.

“You offering to be my bodyguard, Detective?” she asked in a sultry voice, the words dripping from her lips like honey. She added a coquettish smile for good measure, leaving no doubt that the mask was securely back into place. “I accept, but you don't need the job title to press me against a wall with your body.”

Ethan had no hope of pushing his point as a crimson nail traced the outline of his jaw. The slow, lazy line made his breath hitch, his mind racing with thoughts of her tight little body flush against his.

Fuck the wall.

He could bend her over that vanity, forcing her to look at him through the mirror as she whimpered his name.

Lilac shifted closer to him still, lips parted as her finger descended down his neck. The intent in her gaze told him she wanted the same thing. Ethan leaned in to capture her lips but something in the mirror caught his attention and made him pause.

Lilac blinked at him, befuddled by his sudden stony expression.

“What?”

Ethan said nothing, observing the stain on the skin of her back. It was insignificant, otherwise imperceptible if not by the slight shift in the fabric of her dress.

Yet, there it was, as present as any hard evidence he might find.

“You missed a spot.”

Lilac stepped away from him, puzzled.

“What are—”

“Tar is notoriously difficult to get off the skin, isn't it, Miss Allende?” His voice grew icier with every word. “But you knew that. Hell, you knew that two nights ago when you slipped on the Kenmore rooftop during the chase.”

“Fuck!” the masked figure had hissed as they hit the black substance coating part of the roof.

She continued to back away. “I don't know what—”

“Tell me, Miss Allende, did you research Kenmore before you decided to strike?”

“You're—”

“Did you know the rooftops were under construction before you led us up there in your hasty little escape attempt?”

Lilac finally halted her steps, keeping her eyes trained on Ethan.

Something shifted in her expression, like a mask falling to the floor.

Then, she smiled wickedly at Ethan.

“Very good, Detective Ramsey. Maybe you are as good as they say you are.”

There was a pronounced silence, steely blue eyes boring into effervescent green ones. In a blinding motion, they both moved—Ethan to restrain, Lilac to evade.

Their bodies were a flurry of limbs moving to strike or to defend. The furniture in the small dressing stood no chance against their skill, which Ethan was surprised to find Lilac possessed. She moved with admirable grace and precision for someone wearing stilettos and a confining, skin-tight dress. It didn't stop her from aiming a high kick at his head, which Ethan barely dodged.

“You're under arrest,” he grunted when he pushed her against a wall.

Lilac laughed in his face, her crimson lips only inches from his.

“You're cute when you're confident, Ramsey.”

In a swift movement, she freed her body from his hold, light and unassailable like the waters of a raging river.

More swirls of movement as they struck, blocked, and kicked, each paired with a breathless grunt or swear. At last, just as his technique descended into sloppiness, Ethan managed to press her against the wooden tiles of the floor. His hands pinned her wrists above her head, his knees digging securely against her hips.

“How did you know?” she asked between pants, still donning a devious smile despite her position. “That this is my favorite position to be in?”

Ethan stiffened as he held her, unable to look away from the rise and fall of her chest. It struck him then how fighting her was not unlike fucking her, just how they wanted only minutes ago. Before he could reign his thoughts in, she freed her legs, hitched them on his hips, and reversed their positions with trained strength and agility.

“Or maybe me on top is better?” she asked thoughtfully.

Ethan grunted, moving to free himself from her grasp, but she was surprisingly strong.

“It's a shame you're a damn good detective,” she continued. “We would've had so much fun together.”

As Ethan unsuccessfully tried to free himself, he saw Lilac's hands delve into her blonde curls until she removed what he now knew to be a wig. A downpour of glossy, dark hair fell past her shoulders, reminiscent of the dark braid he thought he saw in the darkness on the night of the chase. Even struggling and breathless as he was, his traitorous mind couldn't help but recognize how much lovelier she looked with dark hair.

“You'll never get away, Viper.”

Lilac laughed out loud at the use of the moniker, which felt so ill fitted.

“Even as talented as you are, I'm afraid you don't have all the facts yet.” She pressed a hot, languid kiss to his neck before using his own handcuffs to bind him to a nearby pipe. “But something tells me you'll get there soon enough.”

With one last charming smile, she rearranged her dark hair, hoisted herself onto the window, and vanished into the night.

_________________________

Author's Note: Y'all I don't know what this was lol. Thank you so much for reading this! It was so much fun!

A few notes:

The next chapter of my OH3 AU is almost done. Yay!

I'm almost caught up with replies and reading all the fics I missed out on the week I was gone. Double yay!

And (not to jinx myself) but I might finally sit my butt down to complete the next chapter of the Picta series (ages later oops)

Thank you everyone for being here, despite it being almost a month the OPH ended :( Love you guys!

*tags in a reblog

#ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #open heart #playchoices #my writing

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