#doctor next door au
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Romcom Paternoster Gang.
Jenny saying "that's the closest I'll get to fucking a mermaid" and starting to pursue Vastra who's already undyingly devoted to her
Strax is basically his canon self, he transcends genres. He gets to counsel both of them and tells each the same thing, "Love is a chemical imbalance in the brain"
The Doctor occasionally shows up as a running gag in various regenerations but it's never addressed, they just have 15 differently looking people show up and call them all the Doctor.
#vella is Vastra's jealous ex obviously#And stonn and Tom are the weird (but also endearing) couple next doors#doctor who#madame vastra#jenny flint#jenny and vastra#jenny x vastra#vastra x jenny#the paternoster gang#strax#vastra#paternoster gang#romcom#honestly my brain is just dead from working and compensates by being extra insane#I dreamed up a college AU today as well
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Inspired by @hunnieknight art 🐾💖 quickly wrote something
cw: hybirds AU, puppy hybrid! reader and puppy hybrid! Capitano, mating mentioned but no detailed description
Morning is the moment you wake up smelling the sunny-side-up egg. You lie on the comfortable bed, your hands gently clenched into fists, your consciousness is blurry, but…it's the fragrance. You climbed out of bed and rushed to Mavuika's position with excitement. While she was frying eggs, she rubbed your ears and patted your head. "You can sleep a little longer," you responded by rubbing your cheek against her leg, giggling.
Hmm… there's an unusual smell in the air… what's that?
You searched the carpet and looked toward the window. There was one of its kind covered in a black mask - it was a large dog. His black ears and tail are imposing, and his chest and arms are muscular. Just by looking at it, you can tell that he is much stronger than you. Oops! He noticed you.
Mavuika glanced there casually. Isn't he much bigger than her favorite puppy? The next door neighbor is Tsaritsa from Snezhnaya. She turned down Venti’s poetry sharing party, declined Ei’s meditation course, and had no interest in Focalors’ aquarium. Among the six neighbors in the community, she lived a solitary and unique life. Oh, now she knew she had a loyal companion. She inevitably became wary, like a mother guarding against her daughter being asked out by a man.
"I don't trust that dog, don't go the fence." she ordered. "Be a good puppy."
Capitano stares at you more intently.
You tilt your head to look at her innocently. What is she talking about?
Mavuika doesn't stay at home all the time! She needs to work in the gym during the day. You whimpered and bit the edge of her dress, "Don't go out…" She sighed, coaxing you and promising to bring you snacks when she got home. You cheered and nodded, promising to look after the house and be a good puppy. You run and play with a ball in the living room and chat with your puppy friends on the Internet.
Uh, someone knocked on the window! You arched your back in fear, alert. Hey, he was the neighbor that day…you asked him what happened. Capitano asks if he can play with you. He has his family at home but they are all weird, especially the little fox named Dottore. You agreed, opened the window, and invited him into your home. You chase each other, run in circles, play with tails and ears, and watch TV shows. The two of you also swam and walked around the neighborhood together when Mavuika wasn't home.
One day, Capitano solemnly asks you if he can mate with you. You shyly waggled your tail and agreed. He gets close to you, bites your back gently, and rides on you…
And then…your belly swells. Mavuika took you to the hospital and the doctor said you were pregnant. You watched nervously from behind the door as Mavuika "interrogated" Capitano. You said you'd be fine. Capitano sent more gifts. He is there for you, even though sometimes it is necessary to watch you from the window.
The babies are born. You know what Capitano originally looked like now. Most of them are not like you, but like papa. He is still affectionate, holding your cheek and kissing you 🐾💌
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good & bad
🌙 staring. Kim Mingyu & Jeon Wonwoo x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. “My new therapist says it’s healthy behavior to let Wonwoo do what he wants to do ever so often,” you explain, watching Wonwoo beat Seungcheol at the arm wrestling and proceed to down two shots in celebration. “I’m not sure how she can think him coming to frats, getting drunk, and getting into pissing contests is healthy, but hey, it’s not my job to counsel power holders.”
tw/cw. Threesome, unprotected sex, dirty talk, fingering, dry humping, horny!gyu, dom!wonwoo, Wonwoo tells virgin!Gyu what to do, hand job, Wonwoo using his power to help y/n ride Mingyu, manhandling, size kink, groping, nipple pinching, praise, degradation, voyeurism, pussy stretching, cream pie, multiple reader orgasms, etc… I pet names: (hers) gorgeous & baby.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 8.8k
🍭 aus. superpower au, uni au, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I was thirsting for another Meanie fic and I came up with this super power, I'd never seen it before and I thought it would be fun :)
Prologue:
“We thought she just had an active imagination,” your mother explained, reaching over to grab your hand and give it a soft squeeze. “Most kids show signs of powers when they’re six or seven, she’s ten now, so we just thought maybe she wouldn’t have any. Her father is a none-supe, so we came to terms with it years ago.”
The doctor was looking over your family file, and she nodded softly, looking up at your mother, then to you. “When did you first see signs that these imaginary friends of hers weren’t just in her own head?”
“There were little things,” your mother admitted. “I was cooking one night and she was drawing. When I looked again, the paper next to her had this image on it- a completely different art style to what she had been doing. When I asked her who drew it, she told me that Mingyu had.”
“Mingyu is one of her imaginary friends, correct?”
“Yes, she has Mingyu, who at first was described as the ‘good’ one, and Wonwoo, the ‘bad.’”
“Something akin to an angel and devil on your shoulder,” the doctor nodded.
“Exactly.”
“After the art incident?”
“She was outside one day, tossing a ball around, and the ball bounced back to her, like some invisible person had thrown it back. At first, we thought maybe she had some sort of telekinesis, but she told me she was playing catch with Wonwoo.”
“So this was the first instance you saw proof that one of her imaginary friends could actually manipulate real-life objects, correct?”
“Yes.”
The doctor leaned back in her chair. “Are there any other events that have happened that push you to believe these imaginary friends of hers are real and it’s not a telekinesis power?”
“Well, y/n fell off her bike last week. Her knee was all scraped up. I was about to run and get bandages when this soft glow appeared over her knee. The scrape disappeared and she told me that Mingyu had healed her.”
“Very interesting.” The doctor had looked at you then, rolling forward on her chair. “Can I see your knee, please?”
You lifted the hem of your dress, showing your leg. There wasn’t so much as a scratch where Mingyu had healed you, and your ‘imaginary friend’ leaned over the doctor's shoulder to inspect his work.
“Can one of these imaginary friends move an object in the room for us?” The doctor had asked next. “Perhaps, a book on the shelf over there?”
“Wonwoo can do that,” you’d nodded, gazing over at the boy your age who was leaning by the door, a disinterested look on his face.
With a sigh, he’d approached the bookshelf, reaching for a copy of War and Peace. The book had clattered to the ground.
“I don’t like being paraded around like this,” Wonwoo had mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Very interesting,” the doctor nodded. “It appears there might be some power at work here. I’ve never heard of a power like this one- two imaginary friends, one of which has healing abilities. I’ll make a note of it, and we will see how the power progresses with age. It’s possible as your daughter grows, so will the strength of these friends of hers.”
“Do you mean…” Your mother looked down at you nervously. “Is it possible we’ll ever see these friends ourselves? Or do you think they’ll stay invisible forever?”
“It’s anyone’s guess on that. As I said, I’ve never seen a power like this one. All we can do is wait and see what happens.”
one
You’re seated on a musty old couch in the middle of a loud frat party, and a large part of you really doesn’t want to be here. Even with your friend Joshua keeping you company, you’re not here for yourself, and that always feels obvious to those around you.
Your gaze keeps shifting to Wonwoo, who’s having the time of his life. He’d done a keg stand the moment you’d arrived, and now, he’s in the middle of an arm wrestle with Seungcheol, the frat president, who, like your dark protector, also has a strength power variation.
Dino, a new pledge approaches you, handing a fresh cup of alcohol to Joshua. Like you, Dino’s eyes are locked on Wonwoo. “Tell me again why that dude isn’t part of the frat? I’ve never seen anyone go toe to toe with Seungcheol like this.”
“Should I tell him, or do you want to?” Joshua grins, bumping his shoulder against your own.
“You can tell him,” you sigh. In the past ten years since you found out you had an unusual power, you’ve gotten tired of explaining it.
“Dino, this is y/n, y/n this is Dino. Dino, y/n has a power where she has two imaginary friends, except, these days, they’re not so imaginary,” Joshua begins. “Wonwoo is one of y/n’s imaginary friends-”
“Wonwoo prefers the term companions,” you quip.
“Right, one of her companions,” Joshua corrects himself. “He’s got super strength like Cheol does. The reason Wonwoo’s not in the frat is because he can’t go more than a ten-meter radius from y/n, he’s tethered to her.”
“That’s a weird power,” Dino muses.
“Don’t be rude,” Joshua snaps, smacking the pledge’s arm. “Anyways, y/n’s not a huge fan of frats, so Wonwoo can’t join because she won’t be caught dead here more than once, maybe twice, a week.”
“My new therapist says it’s healthy behavior to let Wonwoo do what he wants to do ever so often,” you explain, watching Wonwoo beat Seungcheol at the arm wrestling and proceed to down two shots in celebration. “I’m not sure how she can think him coming to frats, getting drunk, and getting into pissing contests is healthy, but hey, it’s not my job to counsel power holders.”
“You said you have two uh… companions, where’s the other?” Dino asks, looking around.
“Mingyu’s staying inside tonight, he doesn’t agree with this sort of thing,” you sigh.
“Staying in?” Dino’s brows furrow in confusion. “I thought you said there was a radius thing?”
“Staying in here.” You tap your head.
“He’s… inside your head?” Dino’s face scrunches up in something like disgust. “You have a dude in your head right now?”
Before you can answer, another frat boy comes running up. Seungkwan looks frazzled, his shirt haphazardly buttoned, eyes wide. “Y/N!” he bellows. “Quick, I need Mingyu! Some kid is greening out and puking in the bathroom upstairs!”
In an instant, your light protector appears next to you. Mingyu stands up quickly, face already shadowed with concern. “Show me where.”
“Jesus-” Dino jumps from the sudden emergence of the six-foot-two brick wall of a man.
“Come on,” Mingyu urges, grabbing your hand to pull you from the couch. You let out an annoyed groan as he drags you through the crowd after Seungkwan, leaving Joshua and Dino in your wake.
You arrive to the second-floor bathroom, and you wait outside while Mingyu goes to investigate. Ever since the frat found out Mingyu has healing powers, they call on him for any sort of drunken mistake, including greening out. One touch from Mingyu can clear nausea, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to his powers.
You’re at a university dedicated to helping people train their abilities, and yet, you often feel like an outsider. It had been clear that you’d been struggling when you arrived, after all, you yourself don’t have any overt powers other than being connected to two men with astounding abilities, and that’s when you’d been assigned a therapist.
This whole ‘do things for Wonwoo and Mingyu’ idea has been a lot to wrap your head around, but you’re trying to make it work-
Wonwoo bounds up the stairs, his eyes alight with anger. “What are you two doing up here?” he practically growls.
“Mingyu’s helping some kid who greened out,” you explain.
“Of course he is, fucking knight in shining armor. Doesn’t he know this is my night? He’s ruining it with good deeds- pulled me away from beer pong.”
You sigh. “Discuss this with him.”
“I will,” Wonwoo states, pushing past you to enter the bathroom.
Releasing a deep breath, you sink against the wall, listening to the two men argue. Their words are muffled by the loud music that thrums through the house, and you don’t particularly care to know the details of their heated exchange.
You’re exhausted, and after looking at your phone for the time, you decide enough is enough. Pushing your head into the bathroom, you find Mingyu and Wonwoo holding each other by the front of their shirts, and their argument stops the moment you appear.
“It’s past midnight, I want to leave,” you sigh.
“But-” Wonwoo begins.
“That’s a good idea!” Mingyu grins.
“Wonwoo, I know this is your night, and I’m sorry, but I just can’t do this right now.”
Wonwoo frowns at your words, then releases Mingyu. “Fine, whatever. Let’s just go.”
two
“You seem agitated,” the therapist notes, watching the way Mingyu is fidgeting on the couch.
“It’s just…” he casts a sideways glance at you and Wonwoo, seated next to him with noise canceler headphones on, “I worry that they can hear me.”
“I can promise you they can’t. The noise cancellers are playing loud music. This is your time to talk with me.”
“Still…” Mingyu frowns, “it feels weird.”
“We can ask Wonwoo to go back inside y/n’s head if you’d like.”
“I don’t want that either, Wonwoo prefers to be outside.”
The therapist looks down at her notes. “Tell me more about that. What does being ‘inside’ feel like.”
“It’s dark,” Mingyu explains. “I can’t really explain it. Wonwoo and I don’t sleep, so I don’t know what sleep is like- but I’m pretty sure it’s not just dark boredom the way being inside feels.”
“Do you both have a preference for being ‘out’ then?”
“I mean… it’s a whole lot nicer than being in.”
“Have you ever discussed this with y/n?” The therapist cocks her head, and it’s clear she’s trying to understand, but Mingyu’s still not used to her.
“No. She has enough on her plate, especially now with the whole ‘give Wonwoo time to do what he wants to do’ thing.” Mingyu looks down at his hands, and he picks at his skin.
“I take it you don’t enjoy doing what Wonwoo wants to do.”
“No, and neither does y/n. My night in control is all about good food, relaxing, and watching Netflix. Wonwoo’s night in control is frat parties, keg stands, and getting into fights.”
“Sounds like comfort versus destruction.”
“Destructive is a good word to describe Wonwoo,” Mingyu admits.
“Aside from your feelings on frat parties and keg stands and fights, do you think you each having time to choose what’s happening has been beneficial?”
Mingyu thinks about it for a moment. “Wonwoo has been less of a dick lately.”
“That’s good news.” The therapist jots down some notes. “If I may, from the way I understand y/n’s power, you and Wonwoo are both parts of her. Opposing parts, but parts nonetheless. Do you think it’s possible that seeing as you’re both parts of her, there’s some part of y/n, perhaps even some part of you, that enjoys frat parties?”
Mingyu only shrugs.
“From what I understand, you mostly stay in during Wonwoo’s controlled times. If you weren’t so focused on disagreeing with his morals, or whatever it is you do disagree with, are there things about frat parties that you might like?”
“Maybe.” Mingyu picks at his skin again. “I do like to dance.”
“What if I challenge you to be out more at frat parties, to let loose and give it a chance?”
“I’ll do it because you’re asking me to, but I’m not sure how good it will feel.”
“Maybe that’s something to discuss at our next one-on-one.”
Mingyu can only shrug. He’s been tied to Wonwoo for over ten years now, and he doubts much could change the destructive, obnoxious way he views your darker half.
three
When you’d been accepted to a superpower-focused university, you’d been enrolled in things that would benefit both Mingyu and Wonwoo’s powers. For Wonwoo, you have to go to the gym with him and watch him lift obscene amounts of weight. The gym isn’t your favorite place, but at least you can get a workout while he trains. For Mingyu, on the other hand, he’s doing healer training in the hospital, and due to doctor-patient confidentiality, you’re stuck sitting in the hallway outside the exam room where he heals people.
It’s quite boring.
The one shining grace is that Wonwoo often sits with you, and the two of you watch anime on your phone together. Although Wonwoo doesn’t complain as much as he used to about being bored, you can tell from his slouched stance and heavy sighs that he’s just as tired of this whole thing as you are.
“You know,” you say, nudging him between episodes, “you don’t have to sit with me.”
“If you have to be here, I have to be here.”
“You can go back inside, I wouldn’t blame you.”
“I’m entertaining, you’re less bored when I’m here,” Wonwoo insists. “Waiting for Mingyu is boring. You weren’t bored at the frat though, because frats are infinitely more fun than hospitals.”
“It might be boring,” you admit, “but… either way, it’s nice to see you both thriving. I think this therapy thing has been helpful with seeing all sides of this power.”
“As long as you’re thriving too,” Wonwoo notes, casting you a sideways glance. “It will be girls' night soon- you can have a whole night without us.”
“For real this time?” You narrow your eyes at the man who had ‘popped out’ during your last girls' night. While you enjoy Wonwoo’s company, both he and Mingyu make it very difficult to have female friends, who always get caught up in a sense of longing for the gorgeous men.
“For real,” Wonwoo sighs.
“Good, because if I get propositioned by one of my friends again for them to get a chance to sleep with one of you, I might just poke my eye out with a fork.”
Wonwoo lets out a soft chuckle. “Maybe that’s something you want to talk about with the therapist in your next session.”
“Maybe it is,” you huff, hating whenever Wonwoo says something that’s actually valid.
Your eyes turn back to your phone, where the anime has progressed through its recap and intro. As boring as sitting in a hospital for hours is, Wonwoo does make it a little bit easier.
four
Wonwoo appreciates Mingyu staying inside your head for his therapy sessions. It’s less stress having only you seated next to him, your noise cancellers on, your head leaned back, eyes closed. He thinks you might be sleeping, and he’s happy you can rest while his psyche is getting poked and prodded by the therapist.
“How are your classes going?”
“Fine,” Wonwoo murmurs.
“Elaborate on the word fine.”
He shrugs. “Fine. Not good, not bad. Just… fine.”
“What’s the not good aspect of that?”
Wonwoo looks up at the therapist. He doesn’t want to open up, but you’ve encouraged him that this is the place to do it.
With a loud sigh, he leans back against the couch. “I guess… last week we had a class about prospective jobs for people with strength powers, and I don’t know… all the other guys have options. They could join superhero teams, make a difference- and I can’t.”
“You can’t?”
“No, I can’t,” Wonwoo repeats. “I’m tied to y/n. Anywhere I go, she has to be within a ten-meter radius. I couldn’t run into danger and worry about her getting hurt. She’s my priority, not anyone else. No matter how much I want to do more with my power- I can’t.”
The therapist cocks her head at him, assessing him with analytic eyes. “It sounds like you’re saying you feel like perhaps your skills are being… repressed, in a way.”
“I guess you could say that.” Wonwoo looks down. “I just… it’s not as bad for Mingyu. He could get a job at a hospital and y/n would be safe there. She’d be bored out of her fucking mind. But she wouldn’t be in danger. I’m starting to think that’s the best path forward, as much as I hate to admit it.”
“Do you think y/n would prefer that path?”
“I don’t know. Haven’t talked about it with her.”
“For three people so closely tied together, it seems as though there’s not as much communication about the important things as there could be.”
“We talk,” Wonwoo insists.
“When was the last time you all talked about something important?”
Wonwoo can feel hot anger bubbling up inside of him, but luckily, he has a quick example. “We talked about how we feel about this whole sharing time thing.”
“And?”
“Mingyu and I both like it, but… as much as y/n says she’s okay with it, I’m pretty sure it’s draining her to be bored all the time.”
“Earlier you said being tied to y/n has restrictions, do you think being tied to the two of you has restrictions for y/n too?”
“Clearly it does.” Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “Some days, I think she’d prefer to be powerless and be at a regular university.”
“Has she ever voiced that to you?”
“She never would, even if she felt it. No matter what it might look like to outsiders, the three of us care about each other. Or… well, I care about y/n, and so does Mingyu, and she cares about us.”
“You and Mingyu still haven’t been getting along I take it.”
“Nope.”
“And yet, Mingyu is inside right now. He’s giving you space to have a private conversation, which is a grace you don’t return when it’s his chance to talk with me one-on-one.”
“I hate being inside her head.” Wonwoo has never told you this, but most nights, when you go to sleep, he waits for you to be fully passed out before coming out again. He sits on the couch, watches anime- Mingyu’s gotten on his case for it a number of times, but Wonwoo hates boredom like he hates sand, hot weather, and the way Mingyu hums to himself when he cooks for you. “I don’t like being inside,” Wonwoo states again, more firmly this time.
“If you had your preference, how often would you be out?”
The answer comes quickly, “A hundred percent of the time.”
“And this is not something you can talk about with y/n?”
“It would make her uncomfortable,” Wonwoo says. “She never talks about it, but- she’d never had a proper relationship, she can’t with two dudes in her head or hanging around all day. I bet she can’t even touch herself without worrying me or Mingyu will pop out- I can imagine it would be very uncomfortable, and if I asked to be out all the time, it would put even more pressure on her. I don’t want that.”
“You care about her a lot.”
Wonwoo doesn’t see the need in responding.
The therapist clicks her pen. “Do you often think about these things? About… y/n’s sexual restrictions due to you and Mingyu?”
A wave of heated anger flashed over Wonwoo’s skin at the question. “I’m not a fucking pervert.”
“I never said you were, I’m just trying to understand the way this unique power affects that aspect of y/n’s life, of your life. Humans are sexual beings, and repression of desires like that can lead to anyone being pent up and frustrated.”
“If you’re asking if I’m a virgin, I’m not.”
“No?”
“Y/N’s had sleepovers with other girls since coming to university. More than one of her friends has propositioned me.”
“How frequent are these… encounters?”
“Not at all now. Y/N was getting upset with her friends falling for me, and sometimes I felt it was unfair to the girl. I can never have a relationship. On top of that, I felt bad keeping it a secret from y/n.” Wonwoo lets out a sigh. “It’s better for everyone if I keep it in my pants.”
five
Girls' night is going very well so far. You and two friends have already watched a movie, and now, while checking for your next rom-com, you’re all chatting about classes.
Jenni has ice powers, and she’s progressed an astounding amount already with how long she can use them. Yeji, on the other hand, can manipulate sound waves, and there have been all sorts of weird ways she’s adapted that for offensive and defensive situations.
It sucks sometimes to listen to them gush about their powers while you don’t really have any of your own. Besides Mingyu and Wonwoo, you feel like you’re just y/n. You yourself have no super strength or healing, no mind reading or telekinesis- you’re… just y/n, and in a university surrounded by amazing power wielders, it can be hard to hold your head high.
“Anyways, enough about us,” Jenni says, turning her eyes to you, “How are Wonwoo and Mingyu doing? I heard Mingyu’s one of the top healing power students this year.”
“Yeah, they’re doing good,” you shrug. “We’ve been spending more time at the hospital, Mingyu seems happy to be helping people.”
“He’s definitely the good one,” Yeji nods, flashing a grin at Jenni. “Are they gonna pop by tonight? They’re both uh… really hot.”
“I don’t think so… this is girls' night.”
You don’t miss the way Yeji frowns or the way she exchanges a glance with Jenni.
“Anyways,” you turn to the TV, “should we start our movie?”
The girls nod and you begin to watch your next rom-com. You try to enjoy having just girl time, but soon, you start to get hungry.
“How do you feel about ramen?” you ask.
“Oooh yum!” Yeji’s eyes brighten at the idea, and you immediately stand to go to the kitchen.
You haven’t even reached for a pot to boil water when you feel a presence beside you, and you turn to look up at Mingyu.
“You guys need a cook?” he grins.
You let out a sigh, turning to see if Yeji and Jenni have noticed Mingyu, but they’re leaning together discussing classes.
“Gyu,” you whisper, “You shouldn’t be here.”
“But I thought maybe you’d wanna relax and I could cook?”
“Wait-” you narrow your eyes at him, “this is the second time in two weeks you’ve popped up at the exact time something was convenient for you. First with someone getting sick at the frat, and now with cooking-”
Mingyu looks guilty, and you cross your arms over your chest, waiting for him to explain himself. “Look… my uh… my power has been getting a little better and I kind of have a general sense for your thoughts when I’m in your head now.”
“What!?” You can’t help the way your voice raises, and you see Jenni and Yeji whip to look at you from over the couch. “Since when!?”
“Just for a bit-” Mingyu raises his hands in defense. “Look, I especially didn’t hear anything about Yeji calling me hot like two seconds ago.”
Now you’re mortified, and one look at your friend’s pink face shows you she is too-
Before you can say another word, Wonwoo appears, and he gives you a once over, then Mingyu. “I uh… sensed a disturbance in the force.”
He’s such a nerd, and in an odd way, he actually calms you down a little. “You know what? Fuck it. Mingyu, you can cook for us, but when you’re done, you’re both going to my room and wearing headphones and not eavesdropping on my girls' night!”
“Okay, you got it.” Mingyu turns to begin making the ramen, and before you can go to join your friends, Wonwoo grabs your arms.
“Uh, sorry about this,” he apologizes, and you’re shocked he’s apologizing for Mingyu’s behavior. “Neither of us really like being ‘inside,’ I think… he was just looking for an excuse not to be cooped up.”
“I’m very sorry,” Mingyu says over his shoulder.
“Look- we can talk about all of this later,” you sigh, trying to process what Wonwoo just said. “Please just- this is my night, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Wonwoo nods. “We’ll try not to be a bother.”
six
At this point, you’re pretty sure neither Wonwoo or Mingyu can hear you talking to the therapist, after all, whenever you have the headphones on, everything else is muted by music. Even so, if they were to hear you, part of you wouldn’t care.
“It was girls’ night,” you state. “Girls’ night. My night. And even though I asked them to stay inside and not interrupt, they still popped out! And it turns out, their powers have been getting better, so now, even when they’re inside, they can sense my thoughts?! I have no privacy! It’s a disaster!”
“Deep breaths,” the therapist encourages you. “I can see why that would be frustrating.”
“Very frustrating!” You let out a deep sigh, and you’re shocked when it helps calm you down. “The thing that really bugs me though- is Wonwoo said they don’t like being inside.”
“What about that bugs you?”
“Because now I feel bad- now I feel like I’m being a bad friend whenever I ask them to go back inside- but, a girl needs alone time. She needs girl time- without two hot guys walking around and making her friends drool and go all googly-eyed!”
“What about your friends ogling Mingyu and Wonwoo frustrates you?”
“I guess- it’s more than the fact that they’re both hot,” you admit. “I think- sometimes I think I feel lesser to begin with because I don’t have any overt powers. I feel powerless in a university of power holders. It’s hard to make friends if you can’t do anything flashy- I never know if girls are friends with me for me, or for them.”
“Let's touch on that feeling of being lesser for a moment, then we can circle back to everything else,” your therapist suggests. “You said you feel powerless, although, the way I see it, you have two top-tier protectors. Mingyu is the highest-ranked in his healing classes, and his professors say he’s extremely gifted. And Wonwoo is strong, he’ll protect you no matter what.”
“But those are their powers, not mine.”
“They only exist because of you. Have you ever thought about your future after this? After school?”
“Not extensively,” you admit.
“How would you feel about being outside an operating room, about Mingyu being the main breadwinner and using his powers to take care of you?”
This isn’t something you’ve ever considered, and the notion takes you by surprise.
“Many people use their powers to make a living, Mingyu is no different, and since he’s an extension of you, allowing him to use his power to take care of things would be moral, it would be natural even, don’t you think?”
“Are you suggesting I be a pretty little stay-at-home powerless tether to a healer?” you ask.
“It’s one possible outcome if that’s something you’d be interested in.” The therapist cocks her head at you. “You enrolled in this university, obviously you care about Wonwoo and Mingyu furthering their powers- I would find it difficult to see you go through all of this only to get a regular job that doesn’t utilize them.”
“I really have not thought that far ahead.”
“Think that far ahead for a moment. Tell me your ideal situation.”
You sit there, thinking. The Mingyu outcome she’d just painted was interesting, so you dare to consider a Wonwoo option. Could you go with him on hero missions? No. He wouldn’t let you. The Wonwoo path wouldn’t be good for anyone. Wonwoo gets distracted enough about your safety when you try new weight machines.
“Maybe… maybe going forward with Mingyu’s healing career would be good.”
“Healers with the aptitude he has go far in this life,” your therapist notes. “You wouldn’t have to worry about money, or getting hurt.”
“But what about…” You bite your tongue. When Mingyu and Wonwoo had first become visible to others when you were fourteen, it felt like a dream, but when you’d been sixteen and unable to spend time with boys for fear of one appearing- you’d started to realize the downside to having two constant protectors. You try not to think about having a relationship too often, but now that you’re being asked to consider your future, you know you’d be happier to have someone in your life five years from now- even a week from now if that was possible.
“What are you thinking?” the therapist asks.
“Just that… as years go by, I feel like my hopes for getting a boyfriend diminish more and more. If we’re talking about my future, the one thing I know for sure is that I want someone to share it with.”
“You have someone. Two someones, in fact.”
Your heart skips a beat in your chest. “Are you suggesting…”
The therapist shrugs, sending you a girlie smile, one Yeji has sent your way multiple times before. “Are you interested in either of them that way?”
“I mean… sure… look at them.” You cast a sideways glance at Wonwoo, then Mingyu. “But… would it be weird to do that? They’re part of me, aren’t they?”
“Self-love and acceptance is the most important part of life, or so many Yogi’s say.”
“Yeah, but… I don’t know, I’ve always thought maybe that would be crossing a line.”
“What line?”
“An invisible one?” you suggest, not quite having the words to explain it yourself.
“Listen, I understand why this might be daunting. It would change the dynamic, as I’m sure you know, but, if you are looking to be romantic with someone, or two someones, I know that it would be hard to find a man who would care about you and want to take care of you the way Mingyu and Wonwoo do.”
“Is it okay for you to be suggesting this?” you ask.
“My job is to further your development, to straighten out any roughness in this dynamic. I’ve not shared this with you yet, but my power is to see auras. Whenever you talk about Mingyu or Wonwoo, your aura lightens, it’s a sign of love. Theirs lighten when they’re talking about you too. Wonwoo’s in particular is quite dark, but whenever you come up, he’s shockingly thoughtful and candid. Mingyu’s easy to read, as I’m sure you know. They both care about you, and you care about them.”
“I guess- if they feel that way, why haven’t they ever said anything?”
“You’re the boss, y/n, I think sometimes maybe you forget that.”
seven
If there’s one thing all three of you can agree on, it’s anime. Nights spent watching shows together are always very civil, and you enjoy the peace of this, even as you begin to get a little sleepy.
When you yawn for the third time, Mingyu turns to you. “Do you want to go to bed?”
“Nah, not bed, I think I just need a nap,” you explain. “But don’t worry, you don’t have to go back inside, I can just… curl up here and rest for a bit.”
You and Mingyu are on the main couch, with Wonwoo on the solo seater just next to you. You lay down, but Mingyu’s so big and takes up half of the space, so your feet end up haphazardly on top of his lap, and it’s not the most comfortable position.
“Do you want me to be the big spoon?” Mingyu suggests.
“That would be nice,” you admit.
You don’t often get that close to Mingyu and Wonwoo, but on rare occasions, when you’re feeling an extra need for protective energy, you’ve found yourself as a little spoon.
Carefully getting behind you, Mingyu opens up the space so you can stretch your legs. A soft sigh escapes you as you curl up to the pillow, with Mingyu’s warmth heating your back.
You close your eyes, and while you are able to rest, you aren’t able to fall asleep.
Your mind is too full of thoughts about your last therapy session. Now that a professional has given you the go-ahead to explore things sexually with your two protectors, it’s frequently at the forefront of your mind. Having Mingyu’s strong body behind you isn’t helping any of these dirty thoughts, and you do your best to readjust slightly, trying to get into the most comfortable position in the hopes that you’ll pass out.
“You good?” Wonwoo asks.
“You seem fidgety,” Mingyu notes.
“Just thinking,” you sigh.
Wonwoo casts you a glance. “About?”
“Just…” Should you tell them? “I guess I had a kind of weird chat in therapy yesterday.”
“Our therapist is definitely a little unconventional,” Wonwoo agrees, and from the look on his face, you can tell he’s had an interesting chat or too as well.
“Do you want to tell us what happened?” Mingyu asks softly, his hand soothing against your arm.
“We were talking about the future,” you explain. “She asked what I wanted with my life. I hadn’t thought about it much before, but… I did tell her that one thing I’ve always wanted is a relationship. I don’t see myself getting old and being alone, you know?”
“You’ll never be alone,” Mingyu assures you, wrapping his arm tight around you to pull you close to his chest. “We’ll always be here with you.”
“And that’s the thing,” you let out a small laugh. “I’m out here wishing for a life partner, when I already have two.”
The room goes quiet, neither of your protectors say anything. You hear Mingyu take in a sharp breath, and Wonwoo looks at the man over your shoulder. There’s an unspoken communication between the two of them, and then Wonwoo’s eyes meet yours.
“What are you saying, y/n?” he asks.
“I guess… what I’m saying is…” You take a deep breath, mustering up your courage. “What if… what if we gave it a try?”
“Gave it a try?” Mingyu repeats.
“You know, it.” You look at him over your shoulder, willing him to understand.
“I think you need to spell it out for him,” Wonwoo chuckles. “He’s such a goody toe shoes he doesn’t get that you’re propositioning us for sex.”
“She’s what?” Mingyu’s lips part in confusion, and he looks between you and Wonwoo.
“I mean, unless you don’t want to-” You’re quick to try to back out of this, feeling anxious that you’d ever even brought it up.
“We want to,” Wonwoo assures you. “Mingyu’s been in love with you since we were sixteen.”
“Have you really?” you ask, blinking up at your bright protector.
“I uh… well…” Mingyu stammers, his skin turning a cute shade of pink.
“And what about you, Wonwoo?” you turn, looking at the stoic man. “Are you in love with me too?”
“I’m the bad one, remember?” Wonwoo smirks. “As if I’d get sappy like he does.”
“I feel like that’s a yes,” you grin, heart thundering in your chest at this new development. “How come neither of you ever said anything.”
“We’re not big fans of putting pressure on you,” Mingyu says softly.
“It would also change things,” Wonwoo notes.
“Yeah, but, part of me thinks it would change things for the better,” you admit.
“So…” Wonwoo pauses your show, turning to face you and Mingyu. “Are we going to do this?”
You swallow the lump in your throat, giving a quick nod.
“Yeah?” Behind you, Mingyu presses closer, his hand caressing your arm again, his breath hot along your throat. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“I think he wants to hear you say it,” Wonwoo grins. “We both do.”
“I want…” your words falter, but you’re quick to steady yourself even as Mingyu rubs his clothed cock against your ass. “I want you both to fuck me.”
Mingyu presses his lips to your neck, it’s a soft kiss, but it sets your body on fire. You let out a sigh of delight, tilting your head to give him more access. Tingles of pleasure erupt across you as he continues to press his gentle lips to your skin, his hand slipping down to cup your hip.
He squeezes you, almost enough to hurt, and it’s a rough motion from your generally gentle giant- it betrays how he feels, how deeply he wants you, and it makes you moan in excitement.
“We should move into the bedroom,” Wonwoo directs, standing from the single sofa. “Come on,” he reaches down for you, easily lifting you from Mingyu, who lets out an annoyed whine.
Sometimes you forget Wonwoo has the power of strength, and he carries you like you weigh nothing. His gaze is forward, his intentions set on getting to your bed, and it’s so incredibly sexy you think you might die.
“How do you want to do this?” Wonwoo asks softly.
“Hmm?” You’re a little shocked at the question, and it takes you a moment to even register it. “Oh, uh… no anal?”
Wonwoo laughs, looking down at you with those pretty eyes of his. “Yeah, that feels a little advanced for you.”
“Fuck you, I can be advanced!”
“Sure you can, just not tonight.” Wonwoo places you on the bed, and Mingyu, who had been following the two of you, is quick to big spoon you again, his lips returning to your throat.
Your eyes are on Wonwoo, and after a moment of watching you, he gets onto the bed too, facing you.
“You sure you’re ready for this?” he asks, cupping your cheek.
“Uh huh.”
Wonwoo only laughs, shaking his head slightly before he brings his mouth to your own. It’s a soft kiss, and it takes you off guard. Behind you, Mingyu is getting more and more restless, all hands and tongue- but Wonwoo, in contrast, feels as cool, calm and collected as a cucumber.
At this point, Mingyu is practically dry-humping your butt, grinding his front against you and moaning. His sounds are awfully distracting, and you break your kiss with Wonwoo to look over your shoulder at the man who immediately grabs you to bring your lips to his.
Wonwoo lets out a chuckle again. “I’ve got good news and bad news. The bad news is, Mingyu’s a virgin. The good news is, that means he’ll be easy to teach.”
“I’ll be good,” Mingyu murmurs against your lips.
“Wait.” You turn to look at Wonwoo again. “He’s a virgin… you’re not?”
“I’m the bad one, you keep forgetting that,” Wonwoo laughs. “It’s not like you’re an angel either.”
That’s true, so you choose not to dwell on it. Instead, you grab Mingyu’s hand on your hip, guiding it down to your abdomen, then bellow the waistband of your sweatpants.
“Do you want to direct him, or should I?” you challenge Wonwoo, who cocks a brow at your change in tone.
“Touch her pussy, Gyu. Tell me how wet she is.”
Mingyu moans in your ear as his hand explores further down, his fingers brushing over your clit then between your pussy lips. “Fuck, she’s so wet, and so warm-”
“Tease her a little. Her clit is at the top, it’s this small, pearl-shaped bud. Girls love it when you play with that. She’ll be dripping by the time you’re done.”
God, hearing Wonwoo talk like this is taking your breath away, and you squirm as Mingyu does as he’s told, his touch lingering on your clit.
“I found it,” Mingyu groans, pressing his cock against your ass again. “Does this feel good, baby?”
“Feels so good, Gyu,” you whine, your hands reaching out to grab Wonwoo’s broad shoulders like an anchor.
Wonwoo watches your every expression. “Once she’s wet enough, you can try to slide one of your fingers into that tight pussy of hers. It’s important to stretch her out since I know you’re packing.”
A shiver runs through you now. Mingyu’s big- you know it in your bones, you feel it against your ass-
“Can I?” Mingyu asks, sucking on your ear lobe. “Can I put my finger in your tight, wet pussy?”
You nod. “Please-”
He teases your opening, and you wait with bated breath for him to finally push in. When he does, you both moan loudly.
“Fuck her like that for a bit, then see if she can handle another finger,” Wonwoo instructs next. “While you’re doing that… how do you feel about stroking me off, gorgeous?”
You swallow thickly, nodding. Then you reach down for Wonwoo’s pants, helping him shift them down to his thighs. His cock slaps up against his abdomen, hard as a rock and glistening with precum. He’s big, on the longer side more than thick, but you don’t mind. You grasp him, rubbing your thumb through the precum to spread it across his skin.
“Do you need direction too?” Wonwoo grins at you.
“Don’t even try it,” you warn him.
“I was just teasing, you don’t seem to mind Mingyu’s teasing.”
“That’s cuz he’s-” Your words are choked off as Mingyu thrusts his finger in your pussy. “He’s doing a different kind of teasing.”
“Can I add another?” Mingyu groans in your ear, seemingly oblivious to the bickering between you and Wonwoo.
“Yeah,” you nod, stroking Wonwoo faster while you wiggle your hips as an open invitation to Mingyu.
Two fingers drag through your pussy lips, and when Mingyu pushes them into you, you swear you see stars. You throw your head back, eyes closing in ecstasy-
“If you crook your fingers, there should be a soft, spongy spot. That’s called the G-spot, girls like it when you apply pressure there,” Wonwoo tells Mingyu.
You feel Mingyu’s fingers beginning to explore inside of you, and you let out a whimper when he finds the spot Wonwoo is talking about.
“Looks like you found it, Gyu,” Wonwoo grins. “See? What did I tell you? A quick learner.”
Mingyu applies more pressure to your G-spot as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you. Soon, you can hear how wet you are, and Wonwoo’s eyes darken.
“I think you’re just about ready for him, don’t you?” he asks.
“Yeah- fuck it, yeah,” you nod quickly. “Let's all get naked.”
Mingyu’s hand is out of your pants before you can even finish your sentence. He licks his fingers off, groaning at your taste, before he rips off his pants and shirt.
Your clothes are quick to follow, discarded onto the floor. “I’m gonna ride him,” you announce.
“Sounds like a good idea,” Wonwoo nods.
You swing a leg over Mingyu’s hips, your hands flat on his chest- when you look down at Mingyu, you’re overwhelmed with a feeling you quite can’t explain. Bending down, you press your lips to Mingyu’s, capturing his cock between his body and your pussy. You grind against him while you make out, a flurry of tongues and whimpers of pleasure.
“He might not last long, so I’d be careful if I were you,” Wonwoo warns, and you feel his body behind yours, his hands trailing up your sides.
You pull away from Mingyu, grabbing his cock and lining it up with your pussy. He’s so big- and his tip stretches you out as you slowly seat yourself down onto him, your wet hole taking inch after inch until you’re full to the hilt.
“Fuck-” Mingyu whimpers, his hands settling on your hips.
“Feels like heaven, huh?” Wonwoo asks.
“Even better than heaven,” Mingyu breathes.
Wonwoo’s lips find your throat, and you arch your head back, enjoying the way his hands capture your breasts, massaging you. His thumb and pointer squeeze your nipple and you gasp, your pussy clamping down on Mingyu, who groans loudly.
“You should start riding him,” Wonwoo says, his mouth hot on your neck. “Here, I’ll help you.”
Wonwoo’s hands find your hips, and he lifts you off of his fried before pushing you back down. You let out a whimper of pleasure, closing your eyes and resting your head back against Wonwoo’s shoulder.
With his super strength, he can easily lift you up and put you back down on Mingyu’s cock, effectively taking away all the leg strain so you can enjoy every moment of Mingyu filling you up.
“I might be bad, but I can be nice,” Wonwoo coos. “Look at me doing all the work.”
Mingyu lets out a grunt, and he begins to thrust up to meet you, driving his cock even deeper into your pussy.
“Fuck-” you gasp, reaching behind you to thread your fingers in Wonwoo’s hair.
“He feels good, doesn’t he?” Wonwoo asks. “Hey Gyu, rub her clit. Wonder if we can get her to cum for us.”
Mingyu’s thumb finds your sensitive bud and you squeal with delight, pussy throbbing around the massive cock impaling you.
Each circle of his digit on your clit drags you closer and closer to the edge, your sounds filling the room-
“She’s gonna cum,” Wonwoo announces. “Tell her how badly you want to watch her cum.”
“Wanna watch you cum,” Mingyu moans.
“That’s not very original,” Wonwoo tuts.
“Fuck, you look so good bouncing on my cock. We both wanna see you cum. You’ll cum for us, right?” Mingyu looks so desperate. Lips puffy and parted, skin a soft pink, dark hair curled with sweat by his strong brow-
“Okay, okay- fuck,” you groan. “I’m gonna- fuck, I’m close-”
“When a girl tells you she’s close, don’t change anything,” Wonwoo tells the man below you. “Don’t add pressure or take pressure away from her clit. Don’t change your pace- the only thing I’d say you can change, is you can fuck her harder, but since you’re the bottom right now...”
Wonwoo’s grip on you tightens, and he bounces you even harder onto Mingyu’s cock, which makes you nearly cry from how good it feels. “Oh my god, oh my god-”
“How about you cum for us?” Wonwoo suggests. “I’m sure you’ll get Mingyu there too.”
“Are you gonna cum with me, Gyu?” you ask, looking down at Mingyu from under heavy lids. “Please- I want you to cum with me?”
Mingyu lets out a grunt, his brows furrowing in concentration. You’d bet he’s holding off his high now, waiting for you, waiting for the moment you say it’s okay-
The cord in your stomach coils tighter and tighter, and when Wonwoo leans over you to whisper the word, “Cum,” in your ear, you can’t even help yourself.
Your pussy tightens like a vice on Mingyu’s cock, all the tension snapping as waves of pleasure throb from your core outward to the rest of your body. The moan you let out is obscene, and the one Mingyu echoes is even worse, in the most sinful, sexy way.
“Fuck-” Mingyu grabs your hips, forcing you down on him completely, unable to move while the contractions of your orgasm milk his cock for all he’s worth.
“Look at you two cum whores,” Wonwoo breathes, and for some reason, the degradation doesn’t phase you in the slightest. “Bet you both needed that, didn’t you?”
You can only whimper a sound of affirmation.
Wonwoo’s hands smooth along your back, helping your body calm down from the aftershocks of your orgasm.
“Let me know when you’re ready for more,” he says softly.
“Now,” you respond without hesitation. “Fuck me now.”
“You’re that eager?”
“Eager- plus the moment we’re done, I think I might pass out,” you admit.
Wonwoo only laughs. “I’m going to help you off of him, then it’s face down, ass up. You good with that?”
“So good with that,” you grin.
It’s easy enough for Wonwoo to help you off of Mingyu. He sets you next to your gentle giant, who’s still trying to catch his breath.
You immediately push your butt toward Wonwoo, arching your back and looking at him over your shoulder.
“Wow, you really are ready,” he muses, hands gliding over your ass. “Don’t fall asleep on me or it might bruise my ego.”
“Sleep after you cum, so don’t worry if it’s quick.”
“What if I want to take my time?” Wonwoo asks, dragging his cock up and down your slit.
“Then I’d say you have so many other opportunities in the future to take your time, but right now, I just want to be full, and then I can pass out between you and Gyu.”
“You know what? That doesn’t actually sound that bad.” Wonwoo presses his cock into your wet hole, Mingyu’s cum acting as a kind of lube that makes it all too easy for Wonwoo’s length to glide against your walls.
“Fuck-” you groan, grabbing at the bed sheets.
Wonwoo isn’t as thick as Mingyu, but somehow he reaches deeper. Two hands spread your ass cheeks so each rough thrust has Wonwoo’s cock going as deep as possible, his tip kissing your cervix and making your toes curl.
“Taking it so good,” Wonwoo muses, digging his fingers into your flesh.
“So pretty,” Mingyu whispers, pushing a stray strand of hair from your face.
He leans in, and you find yourself kissing Mingyu while Wonwoo rails you from behind. You can hardly help your moans as Mingyu’s tongue glides over yours.
“It’s kind of hot watching you two make out,” Wonwoo admits, his thrusts slowing so he can appreciate the view in front of him.
“Yeah?” You kiss Mingyu even harder and he shuffles closer, groping your breast.
“Rub her clit for me Gyu,” Wonwoo instructs. “If she wants this fast, we’ll have to get her to cum first.”
Your body tingles- you should have known Wonwoo would want one of your orgasms for himself if you gave one to Gyu. You have no problems with them providing you pleasure and you providing them with a view of your high in return.
You simply relax while they work you up together, acting in unison.
Mingyu’s fingers are rubbing your clit in rough circles, and the feeling of Wonwoo filling you up has you going crazy. You’re doing your best to hold onto the moment, but you can feel yourself getting close to the edge again.
“You’re getting tight, gorgeous,” Wonwoo muses. “Gonna cum for us?”
“Yeah- almost there,” you whimper, arching your back even more so when Wonwoo drives forward, he hits a specific spot that has you seeing stars. “Fuck-”
“You feel so good, want to feel you cum on my cock, wanna feel your perfect pussy get all tight and creamy with my cum-” Wonwoo grabs your ass tighter, and the slight pain paired with his dirty words is enough to throw you over the edge.
Your entire body tenses as the cord of pleasure snaps, erupting through you like a volcano of white, hot intensity. “Fuck-” you whine, and Wonwoo echoes the sound as your pussy grips him harder than ever before.
“Shit, I’m cumming,” Wonwoo warns you, his thrusts faltering as he shoots his load deep inside your throbbing core.
He lets out sinful groans, and you love the way he sounds as he rides you through your orgasm, roughly ramming into your gspot with shallow thrusts that feel like heaven.
Wonwoo finally comes to a stop, and you can feel him breathing heavily against your bare shoulders.
“Clean up time, then bed,” Mingyu reminds you before you can close your eyes and fall asleep then and there.
“Right-” you whisper lazily, resting your cheek against the comforter.
“Here, I’ll help you, but only if I get to be your big spoon,” Mingyu suggests.
You nod. Wonwoo pulls out of you, and Mingyu is quick to bring a warm cloth to your aching core, wiping up the cum and getting you situated. He helps you lay down, disposing of the towel before joining you at your rear. His lips are soft against your shoulder, his hand gliding the expanse of your arm.
“We love you,” he tells you. “Even if Wonwoo won’t say it cuz he’s a jerk.”
Wonwoo only laughs, laying on his back in front of you and Mingyu. You’re too exhausted to say much other than, “I love you guys too,” and with that, you fall asleep next to your two lifelong protectors.
You don’t know what the future holds, but one thing is clear; as long as Mingyu and Wonwoo are protecting you, you have absolutely nothing to worry about.
☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! this might be low key my hero academia inspired- I've been going through the anime's like an addict lol
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cw/ tw. Threesome, unprotected sex, dildo use, pussy eating, oral (m/f receiving), deep throating, Mingyu monster cock agenda, spitting, spanking, dirty talk, dom!wonwoo, multiple reader orgasms, cream pie, Eiffel tower/spit roasting, double penetration, cumming on y/n’s face, masturbation, etc… I petnames. Baby & gorgeous.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.3k I teaser wc. 145
🌙 starring. Wonwoo & Mingyu x afab!Reader
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“So,” your therapist grins as she looks amongst you and your protectors, “I’m guessing things are going well?”
You can only smile, squeezing Wonwoo and Mingyu’s hands.
“It’s never been this easy,” Mingyu says wistfully, bringing your knuckles up to his lips to kiss.
“How are you two getting along?” your therapist addresses Wonwoo and Mingyu.
“Shockingly,” Wonwoo sighs, turning to grin at Mingyu, “I feel like we’re pretty good. Once Mingyu started listening to me, for once, things got easier.”
You nearly choke at Wonwoo’s words- reminiscing about how well Mingyu listens to Wonwoo’s instructions in bed.
“This is a good step,” your therapist smiles. “I’m proud of all three of you.”
No one’s ever told you they were proud of you for getting railed like a whore in heat by not one, but two, men- but hey, there’s a first time for everything.
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hiii could i pls get hocus pocus rolls, pumpkin patch brownies and a dead velvet cake with a side of doctor pepper, white claw, pepsi zero and a gummy bear cocktail served by lando?? love ur fics!!
halloween bakery - bakery menu
the halloween menu is available until nov 2nd! so get those orders in during the meantime! thank you to everyone who has submitted, i'm trying to get them done in a timely manner! writing these prompts has allowed me to help manage some of my seasonal depression & chronic pains.
hocus pocus rolls: "next year you're wearing something that covers more." + pumpkin patch brownies: "you should've worn something a little thicker. you're going to catch a cold." + dead velvet cake: "we can't fuck right now. we have to hand out candy!" + doctor pepper: university au + white claw: slutty costumes + pepsi zero: rough sex + gummy bear cocktail: possessive behavior served by lando norris (formula one)!!
tags: smut/pwp, university au, slutty costumes, possessive behavior, rough sex, football (soccer) player!lando, protected sex, missionary style
"it's so cold tonight!" you yelped as you walked with your boyfriend to the house that he lived in with the rest of the football team. even though you were wearing a light jacket, the wind cut through it.
lando had a possessive hand on your lower back as the two of you walked across campus as the sun went down. he pulled at the back of the jacket a little and said, "you should've worn something a little thicker. you're going to catch a cold."
"well, they said it was going to be plus ten, so i thought this would be enough!"
lando remarked, "i think it would've been fine if you didn't wear such a thin costume." he gave your ass a quick squeeze, feeling the cheap material of the outfit under his palm.
lando knew the costume was slutty. how could he not? the jacket you wore couldn't cover up just how much that costume revealed. you were dressed as a cheerleader this year, and while that was a fantasy for lando. he would've preferred if the outfit wasn't being pranced around the house.
he was on the couch during the party. he was dressed in his football uniform and that was his 'costume' with his windbreaker jacket over it. he eyed you up and down as you chatted and drank. you looked cute. adorable even. your charm pulled people in.
there was a knock on the door and you went to answer it. your heels clicked against the hardwood floor but was drowned out by the loud music. lando got up from the couch and was close behind you. when you opened the door to hand out candy to those not invited to the party. he wrapped you up in his jacket.
"lando!" you yelped as the mini chocolate bars fell out of your hand
"next year you're wearing something that covers more." he then pulled you away from the door which caused you to flail as the candy fell from your hands, "you look too good, babe. i think that's enough for their eyes." he said as he hauled you upstairs.
you swore you heard lando's teammate, oscar, laugh over the thump of the music. you whined, "we can't fuck right now. we have to hand out candy!"
when lando got you to the bedrooms upstairs, he wrapped his strong arms around you, "someone else can do it. let the captain or someone else. i don't care. i just need you right now." he said. it was hard to hide an erection in those shorts.
lando's room was nice, but you had little time to admire the photos of you he had pinned to the wall before you were on the bed. you bounced on it as you fell on top of it. your breasts bounced and it only made lando more hungry for you.
"there's my little cheerleader." he said as he cupped his cock in his shorts, "you come to every game with my number across your pretty tits. you wear my last name like its yours." he chuckled before he pulled the jersey top off, "you hoping for a ring after graduation."
you blushed and wanted to push him away, but he pulled you in closer. you giggled when he kissed you, "i think you're buying ring before i can even think about it." you reached down and touched his cock in his shorts before they were pulled off and sent to the ground.
he chuckled before his lips touched your neck, "well, when you're my wife. this little outfit will be for my eyes only. i don't need all of the school to have their eyes on you. hungry like animals." you moaned when his kisses continued.
lando knew how to make you feel good, the kind of toe curling feeling that made it very easy for him to get you out of your costume. at least he didn't tear the thing off of you! his kisses continued as his clothed cock brushed against you. you knew he was painfully erect.
"my angel." he said, "prettiest girl on campus. fuck, you drive me crazy." he groaned a little bit when he eventually got his briefs off and let him rubbed his achy cock against you, "you have no idea how crazy you drive me."
you moaned, "please, lando."
you knew what everyone adored your boyfriend, he was great at what he did on the field and in the classroom. but he only had eyes for you, he yearned for you as his hands trailed up your sides. you were both naked on his bed, not the first time that had happened. but every time you were intimate with your boyfriend it felt special.
"i want you, i want you to badly." he got you onto your back and hiked your hips up against him where you wrapped your legs around his waist. he leaned forward and grabbed a condom from nightstand. you two had to play it safe, you were both still in school.
you replied, "i love you."
"i love you too, fuck, you look too perfect in the costume. i didn't know something could fit you so well." he chuckled as he leaned back a little to get the condom on.
you felt anticipation run through you as you laid out under him. you admired him. his toned body and bright smile. you could make out the pink in his cheeks from the immense pleasure between you two. to be fucking in the quietness of his bedroom while there was a party outside.
"i don't want you to have anyone else." he said as he gave his cock a few strokes to make sure the condom was on there securely. he then loomed over you with his hands at your hips as he sank his cock into you. your toes curled and your back arched at the feeling of him.
you held onto the covers under you, the same covers that you picked out for him. the soft blue that went with the minimal decor of his bedroom.
lando loved you and respected opinions you had, even if it was something simple like a nice bed spread. because at the end of the day, he still got to fuck you against the covers. the bed squeaked a little bit and lando realized that he had to slow his pace down. but where he lacked in speed, he made up in strength. and he roughly fucked you, slowly, making you feel every inch of him as he buried over seven inches inside of your achy cunt.
he needed you just as much as you needed him. he felt like a winner when he played with you in the stands. you watched him put his all into football and you loved him dearly. he never though he'd get that with anyone else. so that was why he was so possessive at times. he didn't want to lose you, you were everything to him.
and you dressed as a slutty cheerleader wasn't soothing the growl in lando's soul as he rutted against you. you were just so beautiful and the words hung on his tongue, but he couldn't say the words as the feeling of pleasure rushed through his body.
"such a pretty girl." he said as he rocked against you. he loved the feeling of your legs around his waist, he thrusted up into you and you felt amazing.
the pace was rough enough that it made the curl of pleasure bloom in your gut. you knew only lando could make you feel this good, make your core throb with want as he fucked you. your noises got a little louder but lando leaned in to kiss you on the lips.
no need to cause a scene at the party tonight. but, lando knew that at the very least oscar knew what you two were up to. you moaned against the kiss and wrapped your arms around him as he worked your body further. you shifted under his grip on you which only spurred him on further to make a mess of your pretty pussy.
"you look so good under me." he said, "no other guy can have you like this. only me." he chuckled a little, his voice tight from the pleasure as he worked his hips against you. you groaned a little louder as you clung to him, "part of me wants them to know, to all know exactly how you make me feel.
his words curled something in you and you felt the jump of lust inside of you. the pleasure coursed through you as the two of you fucked on the bed. your costumes were left discarded to be picked up in the morning. if you left the room before the party was over, you'd be wearing lando's clothes. not that slutty costume.
"please, lando." you whined as the pleasure worked through you. you knew from the first time he made you cum with his fingers and tongue alone that you'd be in for a world of pleasure with your boyfriend by your side.
"i always make you feel good, babe." he said with tenderness in his voice. he continued to fuck you, he grabbed your hips once more and hiked them up further to get a better angle of your sweet cunt.
the pace staggered, and the pace quickened despite the noise. it didn't help that the two of you were getting louder as you approached your climax. he whispered filthy nothings into your ear, about how hot you looked and how good he wanted to make you feel. it allowed the heat to bloom in your core as you felt orgasm wash over you.
you whined and arched you back, before you could get too loud, your ever loving boyfriend kissed you on the lips tightly. he continued to move against you, heavy, rough strokes that left you feeling on cloud nine. he came soon after with a heavy stroke and you both felt amazing.
"shit, babe."
you both laid out on the bed while the thump of the music downstairs reverberated through the bedroom. you both laid in each other's grasp and softly kissed. lando had gotten rid of the condom already and you two just laid under the covers together.
eventually you heard a knock on the door and oscar's voice, "hey, mate. party's wrapping up, i know you're busy with your girlfriend, but we need all the man power can get to get everyone out."
lando looked at you and kissed you on the cheek before he got out of bed to get dressed. before he left the room he said to you, "stay here, and don't put that costume on unless you want to limp back to your dorm tomorrow." and gave you a wink <3
#bunny writes#halloween bakery#reader insert#formula 1#formula one imagine#formula one fanfiction#f1 x reader#formula one smut#f1 smut#lando norris imagine#lando#lando norris#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader#lando norris fanfic#lando smut#lando x reader#ln4 smut#ln4 fluff#ln4 imagine#ln4 x reader#ln4 fic#ln4#halloween fic
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Secret | Portgas D. Ace x reader x Trafalgar Law ♡
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genre: smut (minors dni)
wc: 2.4k
cw: fem!reader, soft-ish dom!ace, inexperienced law, oral (male and female recieving), threesome, double pentration, overstimulation, a lot of cum, canon divergence obv
masterlist | one piece masterlist
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A/N: Ace and Law haven't met in canon so this is an au where Ace survives marineford and has met Law multiple times via Luffy. In this story they just end up docked on the same island.
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You’re initially shocked when Ace tells you Trafalgar Law has shown up at your hotel room door, red in the face, and asking him for sex advice. Law is a doctor and a few years older than Ace. Ace should be the one going to him for advice. It does provide Ace with an ego boost, so you're not surprised he immediately accepts and invites Law inside.
Law waits patiently in Ace's room and is shocked when he returns with you. You're in your underwear, and the sight almost causes Law's eyes to pop out of his head. You know he's heard about men in bars who look at you funny and end up with second-degree burns. Ace is notoriously protective of his girl. Ace asks if Law's up for some practical learning, and Law immediately says yes, unable to take his eyes off you. Law doesn't usually listen to authority, but he's got a golden opportunity in front of him that he won't waste.
“Baby”, Ace calls to get your attention. He pulls you into a deep kiss, which Law watches with interest. “Give Law a kiss. Make sure he can at least do that”, he instructs.
Law immediately gets defensive, yelling at Ace about how he's not incompetent and that he just wants advice on how to be better. You cut off his defence by knocking his hat off of his head and pinning him down on the bed. You lean down to kiss him and Law instantly kisses you back, needing to prove himself to your cocky boyfriend. Ace sits next to you and watches as Law pushes his tongue in your mouth and you grind down against his hardening cock.
You moan into the kiss, and it gives Law a boost of confidence. He wraps his arms around you and lifts you to turn you both over and hover over you. He grinds down between your legs and reaches down to grab at your panties. He's stopped in his tracks by Ace patting his shoulder.
“You're going too fast, buddy. You gotta play with her a little bit. You gotta work her up to it.” Says Ace, squeezing one of your tits through the cup of your bra. You miss your boyfriend's warm hand as soon as it leaves you, but you know you'll have him soon, so you decide to lay back and soak up Law's affection.
Law drops his head down to your neck and presses wet, opened-mouth kisses to your skin. He's initially irritated when he hears Ace tell him not to leave any marks on you, but you are Ace's girlfriend and not his, so he obeys for now. He trails his mouth down the curve of your tits, licking and kissing at the exposed skin spilling out of the lace.
“Can I take this off?” is the first thing Law has said to you so far outside of giving you his consent. You look up at Ace to check that he's okay with this going any further despite him being the person to suggest the arrangement, and he gives you the all-clear. With permission from both you and Ace, he reaches around to your arched back. Law, however, struggles with fully unclipping your bra so Ace reaches a hand down to help. Law grumbles something about Ace being a show-off as he pulls your bra away and tosses it somewhere behind him.
With your boobs now fully exposed to him, Law attaches his lips to one nipple, suckling it while he plays with the other one. He smirks against your skin when you whimper at the feeling of his mouth. He alternates between your boobs with his mouth and hands. He's so invested in your boobs that he almost forgets Ace is in the room with you until he speaks up.
“Are you a tits guy, Law?”
“Stupid question. Of course, I'm a tits guy. Who isn't?” He hums against you, not ready to pull away yet and tugs a nipple between his teeth. You're so responsive to everything he's doing that he feels blessed to have been given an opportunity like this. Every time you whine or twitch beneath him, he becomes more and more confident.
Ace is getting impatient. You can feel him fidgeting beside you. You know he thinks Law is cute - he's mentioned it before - and the prominent bulge in his shorts is proof he's enjoying the show. You use the hand that isn't tangled in Law's hair to grab Ace's hand and suck two of his fingers into your mouth. Seeing your pretty lips wrapped around his fingers is enough to make Ace snap. He swats your hand away from Law's hair and replaces it with his own, yanking Law's hair back to look at him.
“Lay back with your feet off the bed.” Ace's voice is thick with need, and his switch in demeanour is intimidating. Law’s not about to mess up a chance with you, so he listens to Ace and lays back. Ace instructs you to take off your underwear as he pulls you up from the bed. He places a sweet kiss on your lips, a quick flater in his dominant persona. Your boyfriend is a sap, but he enjoys taking control. Law sits up and watches intently as you kiss. “Sit on his face while you suck my cock.”
You climb on top of Law, who happily accepts and reaches up to grip your thighs and pull you down flush to his face.
“The key to eating pussy is to pay attention. When you find something that makes her moan, keep doing it”, says Ace as Law's tongue slides over your pussy. Ace redirects his attention to you as he walks around to the other side of the bed. He grabs a handful of your hair and pulls your face so you're at eye-level with his crotch. You waste no time in unzipping his shorts and pulling his cock free from his underwear. You're eager as you take Ace's cock into your mouth. He lets out a deep moan; he knows you like it when he's vocal, and he'd never deny you hearing his sounds of pleasure. You get into a pretty good rhythm around Ace's cock, looking up at him as he throws his head back at the feeling. Your rhythm is disturbed by Law when he flicks his tongue against your clit in a way that has you jolting forward with a whine.
Law grips you tighter and suctions his mouth around your clit, which makes you moan around Ace's cock again. The vibration of your throat kicks off Ace’s orgasm, and you do your best to swallow what you can while Law is eating you out. Law's tongue has you shaking above him. Law himself never anticipated being this good at oral, but he's got you barrelling into an orgasm with little to no effort. He continues to lick you through your orgasm, cleaning up every drop until you are separated by Ace again.
“Did that feel good, baby?” he asks despite already knowing the answer. You nod as he pulls you into another kiss and away from Law. When you pull away, he lets you lie down to breathe and recover from your intense orgasm properly. Law, who's adjusted himself to lay alongside you, rubs soothing circles onto your skin as you calm down. The steady feeling of Law's hands on your skin and Ace staring at your body has you shifting in your spot. You're still needy and ready to keep going.
Ace has had time to recover from his orgasm, and he's hard again. He pats Law on the shoulder and points to his clothes.
“It's up to you if you want to take your clothes off, but look at how restless she is. She's desperate for cock.” Says Ace as he removes his shorts and underwear entirely. Law follows suit, eager to get his cock buried inside you. While Law is getting undressed, Ace manoeuvres you to straddle him and helps you sink on his cock. Ace is average in length, but his cock is so thick you always struggle with the stretch. He coos pretty words at you and litters kisses over your skin in the hope you'll relax a little bit, and his cock can slip further inside you.
Law watches with interest as you struggle to take your boyfriend. He wonders if you'll even be able to take them both simultaneously. You brace your hands on Ace's freckled chest as you finally sink down on him fully. There's a breath of silence between the two of you as you adjust. Ace whispers something about you feeling like heaven, but you're not following along; you're too busy trying to focus. You're already stuffed full, and you already feel your mind clouding in pleasure. You're always so sensitive, and Ace is obsessed with you. You feel another pair of hands grip your waist from behind, and then a hand slides down your back to your shoulders. You're pushed down so you're face to face with Ace.
“Is this where you want me?” asks Law, finger circling your asshole. You nod, and Ace laughs. He doesn't mind sharing you, but nobody else will ever get to feel your perfect pussy wrapped around them.
“She loves having her hole stretched, but make sure you prep my pretty girl first.”
Law wants to make a sarcastic remark at the slightly condescending tone of Ace, but he's about to fuck your ass, so he bites his tongue. Ace's hand reaches the bedside table, and he pats around before handing Law a bottle of lube. He squirts a little bit over your hole, and you whine at the cold, which amuses both men. Law spreads the lube with his finger before pushing it into your hole. You moan at the intrusion, and Law takes that as a sign to continue. He adds another finger and continues to fuck you open and ready for him.
Ace isn't faring well, panting in your ear about how much he needs to fuck up into you. You feel so good, and he's reaching the end of his rope. He bares it for you, though, wanting you to be comfortable. You distract yourself by messily kissing your boyfriend.
Once Law is satisfied, he drops the lube down to the bed and pushes the tip of his cock into your asshole. His cock isn't as thick as Ace's, but it still stretches you out. He slowly starts to bottom out. You're moaning and writhing, close to tears, by the time both men are inside you. The sensation of being totally and utterly full has you cumming already. You shake and whine between them as they attempt to calm you down. You bury your face in Ace's neck as you grip him impossibly tight. Your pussy is frantically clenching down on Ace, and both he and Law are at the edge too.
Once you've calmed from your orgasm, you give them permission to move, which makes both men smile at each other over your shoulder. You've never felt anything like this before. Tears spill down your cheeks as you're completely overcome with pleasure. Your stomach flutters with the need for more. Law slides his hand into your hair and pulls you more upright, asking you to arch a little for him. Now that your face is no longer buried in your Ace's neck, he can get a good look at your facial expression, and his thrust seems to gain force.
“She's crying,” he tells Law, who also picks up the pace to match him. “You're so good for us, baby”, he coos at you. He asks you how you feel, and you can't answer with anything more than a desperate moan and a nod.
“Has she ever been this full?” asks Law, reaching hand around to play with your clit.
“Not without toys, but she's enjoying this. Bet it feels so good she'd even take another in her mouth,” he teases, sliding his fingers into your mouth, which you try your best to suck on while you're being absolutely railed.
Your vocabulary only consists of cries of their names and the word more. Ace has seen you like this before, and knows you will come soon. Law, on the other hand, has never reduced a woman to this state and is in complete awe of you.
It only takes a few strokes more before you're screaming out their names, body tensing and shaking, as your orgasm crashes into you like a freight train. Law is next to cum, holding your hips in an iron grip as he fills you up.
Once Law has pulled out and moved to the side, Ace jolts up and forwards in a dominant show of strength, repositioning you on your back and pushing your knees to your chest. He fucks into your overly sensitive pussy, chasing his orgasm. Law's cum leaks onto sheets below you as Ace fucks you into a fourth mind-shattering orgasm. He kisses the tears that spill onto your cheeks and tells you how close he is. When he cums he pushes his mouth against yours, clashing in a desperate kiss. You moan as he empties himself inside of you. You barely even register the way he's groaning your name as he does so. He finally pulls out when he feels you're ready for it and inspects you. You don't have it in you to feel embarrassed as Ace watches his cum drip out of you and mix with Law's.
Law had gotten dressed while you and Ace were distracted, and he's now returned to your bedside. Law doesn't speak as Ace walks him through the basics of aftercare. He's silent as he watches Ace calm you down and clean you up. Once Ace has you changed into one of the shirts - that he never wears - and fast asleep with a bottle of water next to you, he walks Law to the door. Suddenly, Law's expression gets serious as he turns to leave.
“If you utter a word of this to anyone, I'll kill you,” Law says. He's trying to look intimidating, but there's a blush dusted across his cheeks.
“Don't worry, Doc. This can be our little secret.”
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This was a request for @beachaddict48 !!!
thank you so much for reading!
taglist: @bloodfixnd @sarcasticambiguity
taglist is open, pls just let me know if you want the general taglist or character specific!
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#one piece smut#one piece x reader#trafalgar law x reader#law x reader#ace x reader#ace smut#law smut#trafalgar law smut#portgas d ace x reader#portgas d ace smut#fem!reader
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'still wakes the deep' au
prompt: You're an environmental scientist conducting research on an off-shore oil rig with only a few days left before you're slated to leave. The eldritch creature they accidentally awaken throws a wrench in the works. First Meeting masterlist
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Choppy waters like Neptune’s eye meet your gaze when you look back at where you came from, the land on the other side but a beige striation on the horizon.
“Afraid of heights, doctor?” your escort asks, his amusement borderline distasteful. It must stroke their ego to watch newcomers come aboard and flounder, gawking at the swells and waves crashing against the oil rig, each wave so cataclysmic that it’s a wonder the structure stays upright. A wonder of engineering, that is.
The rig manager stands closer to the railing, staring without fear out into the ocean surrounding you. His sea legs are likelier studier than the ones that wash up ashore every fourteen days when he’s due for his OSHA mandated break. His knees don’t even buckle at the sight of the barnacles clinging nerve-wrackingly high up on the rig legs. Far too high up for comfort.
“No, sir,” you reply, shaking your head. “Just water.”
He barks a laugh at that. “Plenny o’ that around here. Wouldn’y go leaning my head over the rail then, if I was you.”
You take another look down, balking at the frothy white streaking the latticework barrier around the jacket legs. No worries there; there isn’t a chance in hell you’ll be going anywhere near the rails. You’re too high up to know for sure, but you wonder if there are sharks plumbing the depths beneath the rig, excited by the noise and activity on board.
You’d be shark chum if you went overboard. Beyond that, you’d be fish food; no sympathy from the sea to be found this far from land.
“Where should I set up?” you ask instead.
Sensing your eagerness to get started—and to get away from the edge of the rig—he gestures for you to follow him and sets off towards the door closest to you, leading you into the interior of the rig. “This way, doc—got a room already set up for ye. Cozier in there than out here.”
The first few days aren’t so bad after that. You spend the first day getting unpacked, your suitcase already waiting for you in your quarters, which doubles as your office, and then turn in early after prepping for the next day.
As anticipated, you spend the next day hunched over the toilet bowl, stomach roiling from spending too long staring at the turbulent waters below. You’ve done this before but it never gets any easier. Despite your chosen field of research, you’re suited for dry land, not the sea. It’s the price you have to pay though.
No coffee that first morning. Just tea to help settle your stomach. And it does for a bit—lets you get through your first day worth of tests without you upchucking while collecting water samples from the discharge point. You’ll save your indoor work for the days when the crests of the waves are high enough to spray the working deck. By dinner, your stomach is a little more settled, but still you elect to eat in your quarters instead of with the workers in the mess.
You haven’t been on the rig long enough to have made any enemies, nor do you think that’s something that’ll happen during your brief time on board, but you definitely haven’t made any friends. It comes with the territory. The men that work on these rigs out in the middle of the ocean—even the ones on land, for that matter—tend to view your kind with distrust at the very least, if not outright hostility.
It’s hard to blame them. The purpose of your visit isn’t to shower them with praises. You’re stationed on the rig for the next few days to collect data and samples to assess the environmental impact of the rig’s operations. It puts you somewhat at odds with them, the outcome of your work being potentially to the detriment of theirs.
Some whisper the word like blasphemy. Government worker. They say it like you’re the Baba Yaga or a witch living in a cottage at the edge of the village, like uttering the word too loudly will summon you. There’s too much work to do around the rig for them to cluck their tongues like gossipy hens, but the men find time for it anyway. You’d roll your eyes if you were any greener.
The truth is though, you’re used to it, and at this point in your career, you don’t have it in you to act like it’s such a shock that they wouldn’t give you the red carpet treatment. All you need is a hot cup of coffee, an office (or even just a desk) to write your reports, and some space to conduct your research without being badgered with questions.
Most of the men tend to blur together, a medley of fluorescent yellow hard hats and navy coveralls, respirators strung around their necks and goggles covering their eyes. It’s easy enough to mistake them for one another.
Only one of them has managed to catch your eye so far, though you can’t say it’s for a particularly good reason. Of the lot of them, he’s the loudest. Which is saying something, considering that the crew tend to speak in shouts and hollers to make up for the crashing waves beneath them and the howling winds above them. He’s also among the tallest, broad shouldered and muscled—a former first responder or military, if you had to guess, though you keep your assumptions to yourself.
You know better than to ask questions around him because you’ve learned in the short time that you’ve spent on the rig not to give him—Soap, they call him, or MacTavish when the rig manager is particularly pissed off—even an inch.
It’s another crew member that gives you that heads up. “Din’y pay him any mind.”
“Who?” you ask, looking up from your work.
The crew member nods to the man posted on the other side of the main deck. “Soap. Bit of a showboat, that one. Always stirrin’ up the boys, gettin’ ‘em all riled up. Din’y let him distract ye too much.”
“Oh. Thanks.” You look back down at the data sheets in front of you. “I’m not worried though. He hasn’t been too much trouble.”
Famous last words.
He isn’t too much trouble until he suddenly is; until he’s suddenly everywhere, always in your way somehow. Not so much underfoot as just always around the corner waiting with his stupid smug smirk that you’ve grown to despise and half-lidded electric blue eyes roving up and down the length of you. Aggravating you at every turn.
Your first meeting is an accident. At least, it seems that way, and likely is—he seems too blunt for coincidences or chance meetings, happy to tell you to your face that he manipulated the situation in order to get you on your own.
You’re wandering down one of the many circulatory hallways and slightly lost when a door suddenly opens, blocking your way. A jumpsuit-clad man twice your size walks out, his hair just brushing the top of the doorframe. Though you recognize him instantly, you’d never gotten close enough for the details to cement in your mental image of him. Up close, you get a better look.
The faint lines around his eyes and mouth betray either his age or the life he’s lived. Weathered; bronzed from days at a time spent under the sun. You’d noticed the mohawk earlier, but staring at the side of his head now, you can see the faint puckering of a healed wound splintering out from his temple into his hairline. Though the sides of his head are freshly shorn, the scar looks old—maybe a year, maybe more.
When he notices that he’s not alone in the hall, his head turns in your direction and he stops, one foot still in the other room. Two thick brows go up at the sight of you standing there with your tablet clutched to your chest.
“Hullo gorgeous,” Soap purrs, pupils suddenly pinpricks and your stomach drops.
Because of course he would. You’d long figured he might be an arrogant piece of work from what little you’ve observed of him from across the rig, but you should’ve known he’d also be a flirt. He’s too good-looking not to be one. Tall and broad, with biceps the size of your head. You’re sure he rolls his shirt sleeves up just to feel them strain against the muscles of his arms. You certainly can’t help the way your eyes are drawn there.
“Ah ken who ye are,” he says, taking a step towards you until the tips of his boots nearly touch yours. The door is still wide open behind him, swinging slowly towards the wall behind it. Soap towers over you easily, tipping his head to stare down at you. Your lips press into a tight line when his eyes drop to your chest, staring at the outline of your tits through your cardigan.
“Okay,” you say through stiff lips.
“Yer that lass from the government. Ah thought ye'd be auld,” he jokes, shit-eating grin on his face.
You nearly groan. It’s too early for this shit and you’re too tired from being up all night working on your report on the rig’s discharge water quality.
“Well, I’m not,” you reply woodenly instead, altogether unimpressed with him.
For as fit as he is, you’re not here to flirt or hookup, and you’re good at separating work and your personal life. If anyone manages to get under your skin enough to tempt you, it won’t be the man undressing you with his eyes while covered in a thin layer of grime and sweat.
“Nae, yer no’,” he agrees, voice a low burr. His eyes flick up to meet yours. “I’m John, by the way.”
“I know.”
“…It’s polite tae give yer name when someone introduces thersel's tae ye.”
“I’d rather you just call me doctor.”
“Doctor, eh?” Soap purrs, running his tongue over his bottom lip. “Dae ye dae house calls, doc? Hae been feelin’ a wee bit feverish lately.”
You can’t help the way your cheeks heat at his comment. “Not that kind of doctor. Do you mind getting out of the way?”
“Jesus, I din’y ken ye’d be so fuckin’ prickly. Thought ye government workers were cheery a' the time.”
“Not when we have work to do,” you bite out, decidedly uncomfortable with his shameless perusal and eager just to get on with your day. “Can you move please? I have somewhere to be.”
All that does is force him to take another step closer, toe-to-toe with you now. You should’ve known he’d take that as an invitation. He reeks of grease and brine, the smell pungent and clinging to his skin and clothes. Almost like he sleeps and works in the same pair of coveralls instead of bringing his dirty clothes down to the laundry facility like everyone else at the end of the week.
You tell yourself to stop staring at where his coveralls open to a sweat-slicked chest, dark hair poking up over the neckline, but your eyes don’t comply. A small cross dangles from a chain around his neck, nestled in the hair just above his pecs.
“Good Catholic lass, are ye?” Soap asks, noticing the focal point of your gaze.
You scrunch up your nose at that. “No. I didn’t—it’s none of your business anyway.”
The stutter is where his eyes light up, a little gleam in the blue that lets you know you’ve caught his interest. Like seeing a storm well off in the distance and bracing for it anyway, knowing that you’re in its path no matter what you do.
“A’right, doc, Ah'll leave ye tae it. Gotta get back myself anyway,” he says, rolling his shoulders back and standing up taller, and it’s only in that moment that you realize how low his neck had been bent in order to get closer to you. “Wait. I can’y let ye go lookin’ like that.”
You’re about to ask him what he means when he suddenly grabs you by the front of your cardigan and pulls you towards him, getting the grease on his hands all over the fabric. Your eyes nearly bug out of your skull as he pops the topmost button into its corresponding hole, the only one you’d left purposefully loose.
The only reason you don’t snap at him to take his hands off you is because your tongue is a knot in your throat.
“There we go,” Soap coos when the button is in, looking down at his handiwork all over the front of your shirt. “Lookin’ like part o’ the crew already.”
Your heart pounds in your chest long after he lets you go. When he steps to the side, the door flush with the wall by now, you dart around him, walking away as fast as your legs can carry you without sprinting. You ignore the way he belts out a laugh at your swift departure. Ignore the way your stomach cramps at the sound as well.
He might end up being more trouble than you thought.
#ceil writing#soap x reader#cod x reader#soap/reader#soap x you#john soap mactavish x reader#john mactavish x reader
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wonwoo reading list / fic recs part 3 !
don't forget to like + reblog fics that you like to support the authors <3
navigation
FICS ! ✧*。
A Winter Interlude (fluff, light angst, children's book illustrator!wonwoo) by @/ wondernus
Introduce Me A Good Person (fluff, angst, friends to lover, doctor!wonwoo) by @taeyegu
The Peephole (smut, roommate!wonwoo, obsessive tho) by @rubyreduji
Work Husband (fluff, smut, slice of life, coworker!wonwoo) by @bitchlessdino
I Found Love in Your Smile The Series (fluff, angst, doctor!wonwoo x lawyer fem!reader) by @wonlouvre
Bloodily Safe (smut, psychopath!wonwoo) by @starlightxsvt
Pretty Boy (fluff with smut, gamer!wonwoo) by @/fvllingflower
The Other Woman (implied smut, angst, fluff) by @idyllic-ghost
Silk (smut, established relationship) by @angelwoozi
Underlying Pretense (smut) by @lovelyhan
The Bore Next Door (smut) by @ncteez
Blown Up Love (fluff, gamer!woo, university au) by @starsstuddedsky
With Wonwoo (ceo!wonwoo x ceo!reader, fluff) by @wonlouvre
Nameless (fluff, some angst, firebender!wonwoo) by @twogyuu
Until It Feels Like You're in Heaven (smut, fluff) by @odetojeons
Sweet Chaos (angst, light fluff, assassin!wonwoo) by @viastro
One for The Tales (fluff, royal au) by @leejungchans
X + Y = You and I (smut, rivals to lovers, college au) by @angelwonie
Bookworm (fluff, highschool au) by @viastro
Your Mess (smut, angst, fluff) by @onlymingyus
Rich Girl (smut) by @blushnote
Jeon's Anatomy The Series (neurosurgeon!wonwoo x pediatric!reader, Grey's Anatomy au) by @hansols-yoda-boxers
A Moon Without Stars (angst, smut) by @chocosvt
Pomegranates (angst, royal au) by @idyllic-ghost
Knuckles to Ink (fluff, humor, literature agent!wonwoo) by @dropsofletters
Ten Questions (angst, contains blood, violence, guns) by @chocosvt
Off Limits (fluff, angst, smut) by @hinaaspanda
Campus Crush (fluff, tutor!wonwoo) by @starlightxsvt
Play Again (romance, fluff, mild angst) by @shuarush
Loving Him Was Red (fluff, angst, sugar daddy/ceo!wonwoo) by @boowanie
25c Magic (all flufffff!!!) by @thepixelelf
Matters of The Heart and Capri Sun (fluff, angst, strangers to lovers) by @twogyuu
You Mean The World To Me (fluff, angst) by @svtskneecaps
A Boyfriend for Christmas (fluff, friends to lovers) by @junkissed
Game On (smut, established relationship) by @ahloveisboo
Wonwoo : Protector [Tales from The Pack] (mentions of smut, angst, werewolf!wonwoo) by @gamerwoo
Love Sonnet (fluff, established relationship) by @ann-non
Danced Around an Impossibility (fluff, angst, humor) by @dropsofletters
Sweet As Peach (romance, friends to lovers) by @xddaengx
Players (smut, slowburn) by @smileysuh
DRABBLES / SCENARIOS ! ✧*。
the way wonwoo kiss (fluffy and soft!) by @/gyuslcve
yin and yang (all fluff!) by @/boosari
drabbles below are made by @/pepperonidk
In this Life and The Next (fluff)
loving moments with wonwoo (all flufff!! <3)
the drabbles below are made by @hansols-yoda-boxers (wc. above 1k)
day (smut)
night (smut)
how to spice up a lecture (smut)
"bite me." "if you insist." (smut)
this sofa costs fifteen thousand dollars, don't you dare to ruin it (smut)
wonwoo x nipple play (smut) by @/sluttyminghao
andante, andante (smut, 3.1k words) by @sluttywonwoo
lazy days with bf!wonwoo (fluff, smut) by @/ressonancee
just as we are now and will always be (fluff, dad!wonwoo) by @februaryflowers
valentine's day event (fluff, kinda humor tho) by @etherealyoungk
and they were newlyweds (fluff, husband!wonwoo) by @viastro
wonwoo + pda (fluff) by @jeonhwang
별로 not enough (fluff) by @cheolsblackgf
in deep shit (fluff, college au) by @yjncty
late night (fluff) by @idyllic-ghost
wonwoo as synaesthesia (this is so beautiful please you have to read this) by @fairyhaos
tickling tendencies (fluff) by @heavenshoon
wasted (fluff) by @leejihoonownsmyheart
#wonwoo imagines#seventeen fanfic#wonwoo scenarios#wonwoo#svt scenarios#wonwoo smut#seventeen smut#wonwoo imagine#jeon wonwoo x reader#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo fluff#reading list#fic recommendation#fic recs#seventeen fic#wonwoo fic
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Professional help (18+)
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader, Wanda Maximoff x f!reader, brief mention of Peter Quill x f!reader
Warnings: AU, gynecologist!Natasha, assistant!Wanda, smut, oral, fingering, cheating, Peter being an asshole
Summary: your boyfriend makes you see a doctor to get yourself "fixed", luckily Natasha and Wanda know exactly what to do
A/n: I'm not a doctor, so bear with me pls
Masterlist
You sit in the waiting room, anxiously waiting for your name to be called. Your leg bounces rapidly against the marble tiles of the clinic, drawing the attention of other patients. You cross your legs, sanding a sheepish smile to an old lady who's been eyeing you for the last few minutes, wishing your boyfriend just stayed with you like he promised he would.
He's the one who made the appointment after all.
You sigh for a hundredths time and check your watch, debating on leaving. Peter will be disappointed, sure, perhaps even mad, but you still can't stomach the idea of admitting something so embarrassing to a stranger.
You've been dating for almost six months now, and after a lot of persuasion on his part, you've finally allowed him to take your virginity. Your jaw clenches when you remember the night. It was very romantic, sure, the wine was expensive and as old as your grandma, the food was delicious and his jokes were perfectly timed, but when it came down to it, you were both left disappointed.
Peter is attractive, sexy, and you know any girl would kill to be in your place, but when he took off his clothes and climbed on top of your naked body you couldn't feel a thing. You went to sleep unsatisfied. He went to sleep with a bruised ego and a promise of getting you right the next time.
And now you're here, ready to see a gynecologist, because there has to be something wrong with your body, there's no other explanation.
"Y/n Y/l/n?" A voice pulls you out of your head.
You look up to see a young woman, smiling down at you politely, her green eyes sparkling in the blinding lighting of the hospital.
"Yes?" You speak up hesitantly, torn between following the woman and trying to make it for the door.
Her smile turns genuine. "Follow me."
You walk behind the woman, your eyes pinned to the intricate braid, strands of brown hair clinging to her neck. You swallow, looking away. It's definitely not the time to stare at a pretty woman. She leads you to the last door down the hall, opening it and following behind you once you step in.
"Take a seat." She gestures at the chair in front of the doctors desk. You swallow nervously when you notice a gynecological chair behind a folding screen.
The woman squeezes your shoulder
"Don't be nervous. Dr. Romanoff will take good care of you," she says with conviction. For some reason it helps you relax, your shoulders dropping. "My name's Wanda," she says, "I'm Dr. Romanoff's assistant. I'll be here the whole time."
You gulp. "Like… the whole time?"
She smiles, mirth flickers in her eyes.
"Yes, the whole time." Another voice enters the conversation and you crane your neck to see the woman striding into the room to take place in the white leather chair behind the desk. "Is there a problem with that?"
She eyes you intently. You feel like it doesn't matter what your answer will be, Wanda will stay either way. And now, looking at the stern looking woman you feel like you'll need Wanda's soft reassurance. Maybe that's why she's here in the first place.
You shake your head at last, not trusting your voice not to waver.
"Good. Now tell me what's bothering you." The redhead flickers through your medical file, barely sparing you a glance.
You look at Wanda for help and she sends you an encouraging smile, her hand sliding lower down your arm. "Um…" you start, not sure how to broach the subject. "Well, you see, me and my boyfriend, we-" you swallow nervously, and Wanda takes hold of your hand, squeezing your fingers reassuringly. "We've been intimate… a few times. But it seems there's something wrong. With me, I mean." You cringe, biting your lip.
You can feel their gazes on you.
Dr. Romanoff's eyes narrow dangerously and you feel like getting up and running away.
"What do you mean by that, sweetheart?" Wanda asks, her breath fanning your ear.
You gather your courage and meet her eyes. "I can't- I can't finish." Now that you've started, the words come out easily. "I mean, it doesn't bother me, not really, but my boyfriend-"
"It doesn't bother you?" Dr. Romanoff cuts you off. You feel small under her eyes, ready to fold in on yourself.
"N-no?"
She sighs heavily and closes her eyes for a moment. You feel like a child about to get scolded.
"So you're here because your boyfriend can't make you come." The words leave her mouth the second her eyes open.
You flinch, scooting deeper into your seat. Wanda wraps her other arm around your shoulder, softly nudging you to continue.
"He- he told me he's never had that problem before, and I… well, when I tried it myself, you know…" You look at Wanda and she nods in understanding. "It didn't work either, so he must be right. Can you help me?" Your cheeks are crimson red by now, you can feel how hot your face is.
Dr. Romanoff stands up abruptly, making you flinch. She walks behind the folding screen and you can hear her fiddling with something. Wanda squeezes your shoulders reassuringly and tells you to follow her. You do so without a second thought.
"Take off your clothes," Dr. Romanoff says, settling on a rolling stool.
You gulp, folding your arms in front of your chest. "A- all of them?"
Dr. Romanoff looks like she wants to roll her eyes before stopping herself and looking at Wanda, her brow quirking. You can feel Wanda inhale sharply behind you.
"Yes, sweetheart, all of them." Her tone's urgent. "You need a thorough examination."
Dr. Romanoff smirks at that, shaking her head almost unnoticeably.
"You heard her." She nods at you.
You look around for a spot to undress, but figure it doesn't matter if they'll see you naked anyway, so you hesitantly start to undress under their scrutinizing eyes.
"Let me help." Wanda's fingers skimp over your skin as she helps you take off your bra, your nipples hardening from the cold. Dr. Romanoff's eyes dart to your pebbled skin, her lips parting slightly.
And then Wanda cups your breasts from behind you, whispering, "I'll start right now, okay?"
You can only manage a small nod.
Dr. Romanoff must've noticed the state you're in, because suddenly she's kneeling in front of you, tugging down your pants along with your underwear, humming at the sight of a string of your slick connecting to your panties.
You close your eyes in embarrassment.
She cups your face. "No need for that, angel. You're doing good."
You shudder at the tone of her voice, slurty and breathy. Having no idea on why your body is reacting this way, you lean back against Wanda, granting her more acces. She massages your breasts, kneading and tugging until you're left breathless.
Then, as quickly as she came, she pulls away and nudges you into the other woman's arms. Dr. Romanoff leads you to sit on the chair and you swallow your embarrassment when she spreads your legs and puts them on the knee rest, sliding between your legs on her rolling chair.
You look away, wincing.
"It's okay, sweetheart," Wanda whispers from your side, taking hold of your hand, "Natasha is best at what she's doing."
You breathe out.
You think her name fits her very well.
"How long does it usually take?" You ask, not daring to look away from Wanda.
Faint scraping noises sound around the room as Natasha writes something down in your chart, humming in thought. She hasn't touched you, not yet.
"Not long, usually, but you're here for a special reason, aren't you? So it's going to take a bit longer," Wanda says quietly.
You nod in understanding, finally looking down to meet Natasha's eyes. She's holding a speculum. You shudder, backing away. Wanda pins you in place with a strong grip on your shoulders.
"Please, don't. Can you use something else?" You ask. Biting down on your lip, you look at the redhead pleadingly. The last time a doctor used that thing on you, you were hurting for days.
"I don't think there's anything else I can use. I promise I'll be gentle," she tries to reassure you, but you shake your head no, gripping Wanda's hand fighter.
"Please, just use something else. There should be something else, right?" You plead.
Natasha's eyes flicker to Wanda, a silent question swimming in the emerald pools. After a tense moment she gives the younger woman a brief nod. She slides away and Wanda leaves your side, taking Natasha's place between your legs.
Dr. Romanoff takes hold of your face, gaining your attention. "My assistant needs some hands-on practice and this is a perfect occasion, since you're adamant about the speculum. You don't mind her using her fingers, do you?" She rubs your chin gently, coaxing you to agree.
You wet your lips, feeling your pussy clench in anticipation. Natasha's eyes follow your tongue, her pupils dilating. You nod your consent and Wanda wastes no time in spreading your folds open and teasing your entrance. Your hips jolt violently.
"Try to keep still, sweetheart, or we'll have to restrain you." Wanda fingers glide around your folds, barely grazing your clit and you're already drenched and gasping for air. "You're doing good so far, angel, keep it up." Wanda smiles softly, gently easing one of her fingers inside.
You bite back a moan, gripping the cushion below you with all of your strength. Natasha keeps taking notes, occasionally glancing down at your pussy and exchanging quiet words with Wanda.
Wanda's finger pumps into you at a gentle pace, hitting a soft spot deep inside of you.
You didn't even know you could feel that good.
When her finger curls you let out a loud moan. Your hand flies down to take hold of Wanda's, but it's intercepted by Natasha's, who pins you back down with surprising strength.
"You're not allowed to move, remember?" She scolds. You nod dumbly and relax in her hold. She nods in satisfaction and looks at Wanda. "One more."
Wanda obeys and slides two fingers in the next thrust, pushing down on your hips with her other hand. You try not to squirm, but your legs still shake from the way her fingers curl inside you. Your eyes begin to water as your stomach tightens, you feel like you're about to explode.
"How does that feel?" Natasha's whispers against the shell of your ear, her hair tickling your neck.
"G-good, so good," you whine, desperately clutching the chair.
"Mhm," she hums, putting her hands on either side of your breasts, rubbing the skin in soft circles. "You're taking Wanda so well, kotenok. Make me proud and hold it for me, okay?" She asks as her hands cup your breasts, pressing down on your nipples.
You don't have to ask to know what it means, you just shake your head desperately, not daring to touch her. Tears gather in the corners of your eyes, making your vision blur.
"Please, Natasha, pl- ah!" You cry out when Wanda adds another finger, stretching you out deliciously. She thrusts into you hard and fast, making your body move up on the chair. "I can't-" you bite down on your lip, pleading Natasha with your eyes. "Please, let me come."
The doctor chuckles with mirth, rolling your nipples between her defty fingers. "Stop."
Wanda pulls away immediately, making you whimper. You want to cry out, you want to tug her back, but you do none of these things, obediently laying back and waiting for Natasha's instructions.
You pussy clenches around nothing while Natasha takes her time stepping around you and taking Wanda's place, the younger woman coming to stand near your head, wiping her fingers.
"Natasha's gonna take a good look at your pussy, sweet girl, just don't move."
Dr. Romanoff's fingers slide in without any struggle, immediately making you whine and buckle your hips in her hold. She spreads her fingers inside you, opening you up even more and you feel like you're about to burst from the stretch. You moan loudly when she adds a third finger.
"Keep quiet," she says, pinching your inner thigh.
You swallow back moans as she starts circling your clit with her thumb, the added pressure sending shivers down your spine.
"Such a perfect body," Wanda murmurs, trailing her fingers down the length of your torso. "You deserve to be worshiped." She leans down and licks a long stripe from your ribs to the underside of your breast, sucking the tender skin there.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your fingers burying in her brown locks. She hums softly as her arm slides along your waist, holding you tight.
Natasha doesn't waste another second waiting and sets a rough pace, thrusting her finger deep and spreading them with each thrust. "Look at you, malyshka, your greedy pussy is swallowing my fingers," she smirks, bending down to kiss your inner thigh.
"Natasha!" You cry out loudly, your back arching. Lips wrap around your nipple, sucking gently, and you choke on your moan, your pussy clenching around Natasha's slender fingers.
"You're doing good, baby, so good," Wanda mumbles around the pebbled skin, "You deserve to be filled to the brim. Fuck, you'd look so pretty with both of us deep inside you, sweetheart."
Your hips buckle to meet Natasha's thrusts and this time she doesn't stop you. She curls her fingers, hitting a spot you didn't even know existed and you come, your orgasm hitting you hard as spots of white cloud your vision.
Natasha's fingers don't stop moving inside you, if anything she thrusts faster, rougher, your sensitive clit pulsing rapidly.
"We're not done until I say we're done, got it?" She leans down to wrap her lips around your bundle of nerves and sucks, fingers moving inside you with a violent pace.
Wanda releases your nipple with a wet pop and focuses her attention on your neck, teeth leaving purplish marks on the tender skin. You cry out, another orgasm fast approaching and Wanda pulls you into a bruising kiss, your moans disappearing between her full lips as Natasha licks long stripes up your slit.
"You're doing so good, baby. Fuck I want to make a mess of your pretty face, sweetheart," Wanda whines and takes hold of your hand, pushing it past the waistband of her scrubs. You follow her lead and soon your fingers disappear in her wet heat. She gasps and bends to rest her weight on you as you quickly pump your fingers inside her.
Natasha pulls away to admire the scene in front of her, fingers lazily circling your clit before she plunges four of her fingers back inside, stretching you to the brim. Your back arches as you moan loudly, clenching around slender fingers. Wanda comes with you, burrowing her face into your neck as you both come down your high, gasping for air.
Dr. Romanoff presses a kiss to your thigh before gently prying strands of hair away from your face. "We'll have to schedule a follow up appointment, kitten."
#wanda maximoff x reader#natasha romanoff x reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff smut#natasha romanoff smut#natasha romanoff x you#wandanat x reader#wandanat#black widow smut#scarlet witch x reader#elizabeth olsen x reader#scarlett johansson x reader#professional help
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for the fear of falling apart | part three
when it seems like a return to normalcy is impossible, you decide that something has to give, but will it bend or will it break?
part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | epilogue
series masterlist
who? spencer reid x jareau!reader category: angst content warnings: fear of drowning, therapy, mommy and daddy issues, sigmund freud, nightmares and ptsd, sleep deprivation, takes place during 15x4 "saturday" (max does not exist in this au), stalkers, yelling, police, domestic disturbance, broken dishes, severe self image issues, crying, implies that jj is sometimes not the greatest friend, marriage and marriage counseling, mentions the death of grace lynch, the chameleon arc, reader and spencer are both broken people sry. things get resolved (or do they?) word count: 5.13k a/n: i'm trying to come to terms with the fact that people will not like how this part goes, but i do think it's important to remember that this is not where it ends. it's probably easy to guess what episode I'm rewriting next. lol. let me know your thoughts and feelings because i am dying to know.
“Are you glad to be back at work?” Your therapist asked you, writing down your personal information on the form on her clipboard before she met your stare.
Chewing impatiently on the inside of your lip, you glanced over to the clock that was hung above the door, dooming you to another forty-five minutes with Dr. Harmon. “Yes, I love desk duty,” you told her, flashing a fake smile in her direction.
The older woman looked at you doubtfully, and you silently begged for her to sign your return to duty forms. “I thought we spoke about using sarcasm as a coping mechanism,” she responded in a way that made you feel chastised.
You raised your eyebrows at her, gray hair neatly combed into a tight bun, you had spent more time with your therapist for the past two months than you had any of your family – the rest of your time was spent retraining your body, usually within the limitations of your doctor’s orders. “And I thought we talked about there being worse coping mechanisms that I could be using,” you countered, leaning back in her chair.
She shrugged helplessly, “Well, I’m not sure about signing your release forms. You could be a liability in the field.”
Eyes widening, you tilted your head to the side, “No, no, no, I’ve grown a new appreciation for the desk workers in the BAU. I even stopped laughing when people refer to Agent Anderson as Grunt Anderson,” you informed her, nodding as if that would help convince her of your honesty.
Checking off a box on your form, she set the clipboard on her side table, just out of your view. Taking a deep breath, Dr. Harmon leaned forward and folded her hands over her knee, “Have you spoken to your sister since the last time I saw you?”
You leaned your head back, staring at the tiles of the ceiling as any hope of returning to the field left your body.
One of your very first dates with Spencer had been at the Academy’s shooting range, you had a lucky spot there, it was where you had aced your qualification as a cadet, and it was pure luck that it had been available when you arrived.
As your paper target was brought forward, you slipped off your headphones and set your weapon down, studying the results as you chewed on your bottom lip nervously.
“Hey,” Spencer said from behind you, casually leaning against the wall behind you.
You jumped slightly as the sound of his voice took you away from your anxiety, “Hey,” you echoed, holstering your weapon as you sent your target back for someone to change it out.
“I thought you were going to come to the BAU after therapy,” he explained, arms crossed in front of his chest in his charcoal suit, camouflaging himself with the steely gray of the shooting range.
Pursing your lips, you made sure you had your phone in your pocket before grabbing your bag, “I wanted to get some practice in before my requalification test.”
He looked surprised for a moment, “Did your therapist sign your return to duty?”
“No,” you muttered, knowing that you wouldn’t be eligible to take your firearms requalification until after you had been cleared by a psychiatrist.
Any surprise quickly left his face, “What did she say, then?”
You rolled your eyes, “She told me that it’s possible that my strained relationship with my parents is negatively affecting my performance in my sessions. Then she threw a Freud biography at my head.”
“Did you talk to her about the nightmares?” He asked, following you as you checked out of the shooting range, waving to a gaggle of cadets as they noticed the BAU agents in their general vicinity.
Faltering as you opened the door, you flung the glass door open and trudged out of it, “I have it under control,” you lied through your teeth, continuing your way to the elevator.
The tapping of Spencer’s shoes signified that he was following you, holding his hand over the sensor while you stepped in and using his knuckle to press the parking garage button, “You were up all night last night,” he retorted, “She could help you develop a coping mechanism that works for you so that you can get some rest, angel.”
You were getting tired of those words, “Well, maybe we’ll reach a breakthrough next week. You never know.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?”
“Being so unamenable,” he accused.
Shaking your head as you stepped out of the elevator, you hoisted your bag back over your shoulder, “Is unamenable genius-speak for pain in the ass?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, it is,” he retorted, swiping the keys out of your hands before unlocking the car and getting in the driver’s seat. You had been cleared to drive weeks ago, but Spencer still insisted on driving you.
You groaned, “My recent brush with death has made it difficult for me to let bygones be bygones.”
Pulling out of the parking spot, he carefully placed both of his hands on the steering wheel, “And here I thought we were actually going to move on with our lives.”
“No one holds a grudge like a youngest child,” you informed him, leaning your head against the window and wishing you had driven separately.
Being at home wasn’t much better than being at Quantico. You quickly changed and settled yourself on the couch while Spencer sat across from you, legs crossed in the wingback chair as he finished filling in a crossword book that you had started that morning.
You watched the clock tick, the diffused orange light of the sunset beamed through the curtains, and you felt yourself settle. Stiff joints and aching muscles unwound on the supple leather of the couch, and as you let your eyes fall shut, you felt the breeze of someone walking by before Spencer stopped in front of you.
Gently, he draped a knit blanket over you, tucking you in before crouching and dropping a gentle kiss to your temple.
Y/N is down, she’s been hit. We need an ambulance now.
I know, I’m sorry, I know it hurts.
It’s okay. I’ve got you.
“Honey, wake up.”
You startled awake on the couch, wadding up the blanket in your fists as your eyes adjusted to the dim environment of the apartment. The sun had set, dipping below the skyline as you stared ahead.
Concerned brown eyes bore into you as you caught your breath, Spencer reached over and flicked on the table lamp next to you, “You’re alright,” he cooed, gently enough to make you want to cry. “It was just a bad dream,” he told you, cupping your cheek and studying your expression.
Nodding absently, you pulled yourself into a sitting position, the familiar knit blanket falling in a puddle around your waist. “I was in the parking garage again,” you preemptively answered his next question. You were usually in the parking garage, sometimes you were on the beach, and once you had been fully underwater.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Spencer asked, a hint of hope in his voice.
You shook your head and ignored the defeated look on Spencer’s face, instead burying your face in your hands and taking a few deep breaths.
He waited for a moment before speaking again, reaching out and adjusting the bunched-up fabric of your t-shirt, “Are you hungry? I made soup.”
“Yeah,” you breathed, crossing your arms in front of your stomach, afraid it would start growling at the mention of food.
As you watched Spencer get up and walk over to the kitchen, you let yourself feel like everything was alright for the slightest moment. You wanted your apartment to be your safe space where there were no serial killers or sisters or hospitals, but there was a classified file on the kitchen table, photos of you and your sister littered the walls, and there was an entire drawer in the home office dedicated to your hospital stay.
Melding into the couch cushions, you ignored the stiffness in your side, the scars that marred your skin were healed over, but the memory would stick with you for a lifetime. It felt like a phantom pain, irritating your skin whenever you thought too much about it, or whenever your therapist asked you about Grace Lynch.
It didn’t bring you a lot of comfort to know that she was dead, murdered by her own father after conning her ex-girlfriend into giving her money. Everett Lynch was the threat now, and you were stuck on the bench.
Pulling your knees to your chest, you rested your cheek on your knee as Spencer ladled soup into a bowl and presented it to you, complete with a few ice cubes to cool it down. He waltzed back into the kitchen to clean up when his phone rang.
You ignored his conversation while you stirred the ice cubes around in your bowl, the soft clinking of them mesmerizing your tired brain. You ate while he spoke on the phone, mentioning something about a case. Pushing any thoughts of serial killers away, you just ate your soup.
Sipping at the broth, you grew curious about what was going on over the phone, but you tried to mind your business, scooping at the last noodles in the bowl before setting it down on the coffee table.
“Who was that?” You asked, eyes following Spencer as he walked back over to the living room, slipping his phone in his pocket as he sat next to you on the couch.
He paused for a moment, and you immediately regretted asking, “Uh, it was JJ.”
You supposed it had to mean something that he elected to tell you the truth instead of lying to you, but you were no longer feeling optimistic, “Ah.”
“Don’t start,” he said immediately.
You turned to him, raising your eyebrows curiously and pushing yourself into the corner of the couch – away from him, “Start what, Spencer?”
Spencer put his hands up, “Picking a fight with me over JJ’s feelings. JJ, Tara, Luke, and Penelope are working on a stalker case, it’s nothing that we need to worry about.”
“I’m not going to pick a fight with you, I already told you that I forgive you,” you told him, wrapping your arms around yourself.
He groaned in frustration, “You can say it all you want, but you haven’t. You haven’t forgiven me.”
As he usually was, Spencer was right, you hadn’t forgiven him for lying to you about what had happened between him and JJ. You wanted to. You wanted to find it in yourself to be the bigger person and just tell him it was fine. All you wanted was to move on, but you were crashing into roadblock after roadblock. “Are you going to work that case?”
“No, it’s a classic stalking case, they’ll make it without me,” he said, turning on the couch to face you.
You swallowed thickly, “You can go if you’d rather be there,” you reassured him, wondering if he’d be happier at work than at home with you. Someone needed to make a decision, someone needed to decide whether or not the two of you were going to keep going or if you were going to call it off. You didn’t want it to be you, you were afraid of which option you might choose.
Spencer frowned, “Why are you trying to get rid of me?”
“I’m not,” you answered.
“Yes, yes you are,” he challenged, leaning forward to get a better look at you.
Shaking your head, you threw your hands up in surrender, “You don’t have to go. You can stay here. You live here. Who the fuck am I to tell you to leave?”
“And now you’re escalating the situation,” he observed, straightening up and watching you carefully.
You didn’t consider yourself an angry person. The two of you didn’t fight often, but as you considered your options, you wondered if it could help. Maybe you could replicate the feeling of a good cry. Maybe all you need is a good fight. Just talk it out – loudly. “I’m not escalating anything. I’m not starting anything. In case you haven’t noticed, this has been going on for months.”
He had noticed, he could probably give you an exact date and time to point out when everything fell apart. Was it inside the pawn shop? Was it in the courtyard outside of Rossi’s wedding? “I thought we had made some real progress at the hospital,” he challenged.
Getting up from the couch, you took a deep breath and tossed the blanket over the back, “You cannot seriously think that. You’re too smart to believe that, Spencer. The idea that we fixed everything while I was hopped up on Xanax and painkillers. It’s… it’s…” you stumbled over your words for a moment. It’s crazy. You wanted to tell him, but you couldn’t do that to him. Spencer had spent his whole life having that word thrown at his mother, and he spent adulthood fearing he’d have a schizophrenic break. “It’s outlandish,” you finally finished.
Spencer looked up at you from the couch, “Is it outlandish to think that the history we have together would help mend our relationship?”
You rolled your eyes, “I don’t know, Spencer, let’s take a look at your history with my sister,” you snapped.
“Oh, come on,” he protested.
“No,” you commanded, “Sit down and shut up. I’ve spent months waiting for you to get it, but apparently, I need to spell it out for you.”
To your surprise, he listened, watching you in silence as you took a deep breath, picked up your soup bowl, and brought it into the kitchen. Your heartbeat pounded like thunder in your ears.
Standing in front of him, you crossed your arms in front of your chest, “I want you to empathize with me.” You calculated every word you said, “We’ve known each other for nine years. We’ve been together for seven, and I- I had the rug pulled out from under me. God, you went on a date with my sister. You took her to a football game as a hater of organized sports. My beautiful, prom queen, soccer star, gem of the family older sister.”
“It wasn’t a date, Penelope went with us,” Spencer added patiently.
You peered down at him, “When you asked her to go with you, did you do it with the intention that you would be taking her on a date?”
His shoulders slackened, “Yeah,” he answered softly.
“And you know that she loves you. If you went to her right now and told her you wanted to be with her, that there’s a chance she’d consider it. She’d at least have to think about it,” you told him, confidence dissipating as your hands started to tremble and you silently begged yourself not to cry.
Spencer watched you suspiciously, “What gave you the impression that I want to be with her instead of you?”
You faltered, just for a moment, “Why wouldn’t you want to be with her?” You asked exasperatedly, letting your arms fall limply at your sides.
Pinching his eyebrows together, your boyfriend looked at you like you had grown a third eye, “She’s married? Her kids are my godchildren?”
Shaking your head in disbelief, you cursed yourself as tears stung your eyes, “Are those seriously the only reasons you can think of?” With all the brain power you knew he had, you couldn’t help but be disappointed.
“Fuck, Y/N,” Spencer groaned, “Putting aside the fact that I’d be destroying a marriage, not because it doesn’t matter, but because being with your sister isn’t even something I’d consider. This might not have occurred to you, but I have absolutely no interest in being with someone other than you!”
You huffed, “Please, she’s beautiful and athletic and older and you’ve known her for fifteen years!” You shouted over your shoulder, making your way back to the kitchen. There wasn’t anything you needed from in there, you just needed to keep moving.
“But she’s not you!” He yelled from the couch, finally getting up and following you to the kitchen.
Spinning around on your heel, you threw your arms in the air, “God, I know!” You swung your arms down, accidentally sending the bowl you had set on the counter down to the floor, breaking on impact. “Shit,” you muttered, immediately dropping to a crouch and starting to pick up the ceramic shards.
“Hey, wait, let me get it,” Spencer insisted, grabbing a kitchen towel from the drawer before laying it on the floor. He carefully picked up the larger shards, waving your hands away.
You clenched your hands and glared at him with bleary eyes, “Why? Why am I not allowed to clean up the mess that I made?”
Spencer sighed, “You’re crying. I don’t want you to get hurt because you can’t see well,” he told you, prompting you to sit back on the tile and watch him continue to pick up.
You crisscrossed your legs and watched him, “I’m sorry for yelling,” you whispered, so quietly that you weren’t even sure he had heard you.
Nodding in acknowledgment, Spencer gathered up the kitchen towel and set it on the counter, setting his hands on the counter and taking a deep breath, “I’m sorry for raising my voice,” he echoed your sentiments. He moved to the hall closet to get out the broom, interrupted by a knock on the door.
Confused, you poked your head over the counter and watched as Spencer opened the front door.
“Good evening, officer,” he greeted, casting a sidelong glance over at you.
Fuck.
You scrambled to your feet, careful not to step on any pieces of the bowl that remained on the floor and wiping beneath your eyes as you made your way to the door, peeking around the corner to find two DC Metro officers. “Agent Jareau?” One of the officers said curiously.
“Hi,” you waved timidly, looking between the two of them with your tail between your legs.
He looked surprised at the revelation of who lived here, recognizing you from a case you had consulted on months ago. “We were called here on a report of a domestic disturbance, your neighbor in said she heard ‘a lot of yelling before there was a crash and then everything went quiet’.”
The summation of events did nothing to slow your racing heart, “We had uh… we were having a disagreement, and I knocked over a bowl. It was an accident,” you reassured the officer, reaching out and taking Spencer’s hand as a sign of good faith.
“Are you sure?” He asked, looking at you expectantly.
You nodded in confirmation, “I’m really sorry about any inconvenience, but I promise there’s nothing to worry about.”
The DC Metro officers studied Spencer suspiciously, and you protectively moved in front of him. They were trained to see the worst-case scenario, but there was nothing happening here, “Well then, just uh… try to keep it down, I suppose.”
The two of you waved as they walked away, once the door was closed, you turned to face Spencer, “Are you alright?”
He looked a little pale, “I’m alright,” he nodded, gathering himself before going back to the hall closet. “That was weird,” he added.
Spencer’s interaction with police officers was limited to work with the bureau and his time in prison. He never had to explain an underage drunk person in the car or run when a party got too rowdy, but he wasn’t concerned with the confrontation, he was concerned that, for a moment, before you got there, those officers saw Spencer as a violent person. You stayed put, watching him sweep up the last of the bowl and take care of the sharp pieces with a keen eye.
“I’d never hurt you,” Spencer said softly, unnecessarily explaining to you.
You nodded, “I know. You’re not like that, baby. You’re not a violent person.” In fact, you had only seen Spencer aggressively violent one time in your life, and that was when his mother’s life was on the line. Stepping over to him, you lifted yourself so that you were sitting on the kitchen counter, meeting his eyes.
“She is not you,” he murmured, reaching out and taking both of your hands in his.
Chewing on the inside of your lip, your shoulders slumped ever so slightly, “I am well aware,” you offered.
He took a deep breath, “JJ would never ask me to recite Henry James to her or offer to go to the planetarium with me even after we spent all day on a case or sit through one of my lectures just to hear me talk about something I’m passionate about,” he began. "I can’t remember the last time I had a conversation about something I’m passionate about with your sister. Not one where she didn’t interrupt me or pawn me off on somebody else,” he told you, disconnecting one of your hands to wipe new tears from your cheeks.
“I- I’m not…” you breathed, overwhelmed as he sang your praises.
“I know you compare yourself to her,” he cut you off, “it’s normal for you to compare yourself to your older sister. I just didn’t know how lowly you thought of yourself until all of this was dug up.”
Frowning, you cocked your head to the side, “I do not compare myself to her,” you remarked.
He hummed in response, “It wasn’t up for debate. I’m not interested in your sister. I’m not interested in pursuing a relationship with anyone except for you. I am sorry that I never told you about the football game, but by the time you joined the team, six years had passed, and I didn’t think it was pertinent to tell you that your sister had rejected me. That is entirely on me, and I can’t change it. I can, however, spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you.”
Your breathing hitched, and the ghost of a potential proposal once again floated through the air, it made your heart ache. “One of these days you’re going to have to actually ask me to marry you,” you whispered, not sure how much longer you’d be able to sit and wait while he neglected to act upon his words.
“What do you want right now?” Spencer asked, studying your facial expression.
You have spent three months being mad at him, and you had to believe it all came down to tonight. Neither of you could keep going with things the way they were. “I’m not sure,” you answered.
Patiently, Spencer inquired, “Do you want to break up?”
If you told him you hadn’t thought about it, you’d be lying. It broke your heart to think about ending things with him, to think that six years together didn’t mean something to the both of you. Spencer had never given any inclination that he was interested in anyone else, so maybe he should’ve told you about the football game, but you shouldn't have let your insecurities block any attempt at reconciliation. “No,” you responded truthfully.
He had tried, too. The one-sided conversations he had with floral bouquets, taking time off of work to help you while you recovered, and he had even limited his contact with your sister. “Do you want to go to couple’s therapy?”
You had heard through the grapevine that your sister was trying marriage counseling with Will, something about working on their communication skills. With that in mind, you nodded, “We can try it out.”
“Do you know what you want?” He asked, settling a hand on your thigh.
Through the sheer curtains, you looked outside, “I want to go,” you informed him, hopping off of the kitchen counter and to your shared bedroom, pulling on a pair of socks.
Confused, Spencer followed you around the apartment, “Wait. Where are we going?”
“I’m going,” you said simply.
He looked surprised at this, “It’s the middle of the night in the twenty-second largest city in the country, you’re not going out alone.”
You paused for a moment at his concern, watching the defeated look on his face morph into one of relief when you responded, “Then put your shoes on,” you encouraged.
As you waited by the door, mindful to not walk through the apartment with your shoes on, he stopped in your bedroom for a moment before coming back out and slipping his sneakers on. “Where are we going?”
Grabbing your keys off of the hook, you opened the door and held it for Spencer as he followed your lead. “You know at the start of Moby Dick when Ishmael says when he finds himself growing grim about the mouth and wanting to knock people’s hats off, he takes to the sea?”
He nods, taking the keys from your hand and locking the door behind him, glancing briefly at your neighbor’s door before handing your keys back to you, “I’m familiar,” he confirmed.
“Well, I’m feeling rather grim about the mouth,” you told him assuredly, slipping your keys into your pockets and slowly making your way down the hold staircase of your apartment building, listening for Spencer’s footsteps right behind you.
Even with your back turned, you knew his expression would be one of confusion, “So, you want to take to the sea?”
You quickly shook your head, the very last place you wanted to be was near a body of water in the middle of the night, “Not particularly, but maybe the park and some fresh air would do me some good.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” he confirmed, stepping around you to hold the front door open so that you could walk outside, the cool night air stinging your face as you did.
Taking a deep breath, you looked at the night sky, the stars hidden through the city’s light pollution.
Upon reaching the park, which was just a small green space down the street from your apartment, Spencer led you to a cement bench, the two of you sitting down and sitting in silence. You welcomed the cold air filling your lungs, watching the fountain from a distance and admiring the way the headlights of a few passing cars reflected off of the water.
He kept a hand on your back, gently moving his hand up and down your spine as the two of you reveled in the startling nighttime peace. “I haven’t been fair to you,” you murmured nervously, looking over at him.
“None of this has been fair to anyone,” he reminded you.
You sighed, “JJ confessed her feelings, not the other way around, and I- I shouldn’t have held that against you for so long.” The admission came to you easily, holding your breath as you waited for him to agree.
Spencer’s silence worried you, but then he finally responded, “I probably would have done the same thing, but I don’t think it’s right for me to speculate how I would or wouldn’t have acted in your shoes.”
“I just… she’s always been perfect. The perfect daughter, the perfect wife, the perfect agent, and I’m… I’m just me,” you said helplessly, staring ahead at the fountain.
He took a deep breath, “You’re perfect to me.”
“Stop,” you chastised halfheartedly.
Chuckling, he placed his hand over yours, “I mean it. Sometimes perfection is about the final concoction and not about getting all of the steps right. You don’t need the perfect journey, and, to me, nothing proves that more than you.”
You hummed, “You’re sweet.”
“For what it’s worth, I think, given the opportunity, you could be a perfect wife,” he said, nudging your leg with his knee, getting your head to snap to the side.
Jumping up from the bench, you smacked your hand over your mouth at the small black box that he had set on the stone surface. “What are you… what?” You asked breathlessly, looking behind you in the way people usually did when they were surprised, waiting to see if you were being pranked.
“It doesn’t have to be an engagement ring,” he reached down and snapped the box open, showing you the glimmering ring inside. “It can just be a promise because I am promising you right now, this is it for me. You are the only person I can see myself with, and I’m ready to spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”
Gaping at him, you looked between him and the ring before closing your mouth, “That sounds an awful lot like an engagement ring,” you told him, out of breath.
He nodded, “That’s because I want it to be.”
“Okay,” you answered.
“What?”
You giggled, he evidently hadn’t expected that answer, “Yes, Spencer.”
He stood up, tackling you in an embrace, “Thank goodness.” He said, relaxing into you as you returned his hug.
Over the past few months, you had been almost afraid of him asking you, worried that it would feel like an excuse. A band-aid over a bullet hole. But as you held each other tightly, all you felt was an overwhelming sense of right. This was where you were always meant to be. “Will you put it on me?”
He nodded slowly, sniffling as he pulled away from you, the warmth of his body leaving you as he nimbly took your left hand, slipping the ring on your fourth finger. The metal felt foreign on your skin, but you welcomed it nonetheless. “That has been sitting in my sock drawer for a year,” he admitted, placing both of his hands on your waist and meeting your eyes.
You beamed up at him, at both the revelation that he bought you a ring well before any of the trials and tribulations of the last few months and that he hid the ring in the one place you never touched – the seemingly bottomless abyss of unmated socks that Spencer called his sock drawer. “Thank you,” you breathed.
Spencer leaned his head down, hovering his lips just above your own, “For what, love?”
Blinking small tears out of your eyes, you answered, “For not giving up on us.”
He smiled, “Never,” he whispered before dropping his lips to yours, the intimacy of something as small as a kiss enough to bring butterflies to your stomach. “Do you want to go home? Or are you still feeling grim about the mouth?”
“Let’s go home, Spence,” you told him, pressing one last kiss to his lips before the two of you began the trek home, hand in hand.
taglist: @football1921 @thedancingnerdmermaid @dollarstore-lydia-deetz @cillsnostalgia @alivesarcastically
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#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x fem!reader#criminal minds angst#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#jennifer jareau#jareau!reader#written by margot#ffofa
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𓈒⟡₊⋆∘ finelinefae's masterlist 𓈒⟡₊⋆∘
₊˚⊹♡ series ₊˚⊹♡
flower (tattoo artist h x innocent y/n) harry's a tattoo artist next door to y/n's flower shop Part 1 | Part 2 (complete) - blurb masterlist -
the aviator (pilot harry x teacher y/n) It’s the 1950s. Harry is the best pilot on the Air Force base and y/n is a teacher at a nursery. Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (complete)
the match (tennis player!h x tennis player!yn) y/n's desperate to play tennis and who better to coach her than her rival Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 (complete) Bambi (CEO!h x shy!reader) y/n tries a dating app and meets the CEO of Pleasing Part 1 | Part 2
₊˚⊹♡ soft girl sunday one shots ₊˚⊹♡
all one shots based on this idea
soft (non au harry x plus size y/n) harry is obsessing over his girlfriend as she supports him on tour
tongue tied (high school au Harry) y/n has a stutter and Harry loves to hear her speak
home (doctor!harry) y/n is homesick and harry wants to help her
sunshine girl (tutor!harry) y/n struggles to concentrate and harry offers to help
₊˚⊹♡ one shots ₊˚⊹♡
everything with you a simple, true kind of love
you & i (prince!h x maid!yn) harry is a royal in love with a serving girl
the other woman y/n is the other woman who just wants to be loved
#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles#harry styles blurb#harry styles x reader#fic rec#harry styles imagines#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fic rec#harry styles imagine#harry styles masterlist#masterlist#fanfiction masterlist#fanfiction#harry styles smut#harry styles writing#harry styles blog#harry styles one shot#harry styles fic#harry edward styles#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#writing#fanfic rec#one direction#harry styles fluff#fluff#smut#harry styles concept
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sweet love | pjm
⤷ part of the dads universe
⏤ pairing: coffee shop owner!jimin x female reader
⏤ genre: parents au, exes to lovers, fluff, and smut
⏤ rating: 18+
⏤ summary: jimin is the father of your four-year-old daughter, moon, and he’s also your ex. an ex you never considered getting back to, but that wasn’t until you both found yourself being single again. watching a movie with moon every sunday became the perfect excuse to flirt together discreetly. a flirt that brought back ten years of sweet love.
⏤ words: 14,388
⏤ warnings: mention of pregnancy, mention of breakup, sexual tension, flirting, long-haired!jimin, little moon is sick, mention of jealousy, some teasing, a lot of making out, mention of struggles after a breakup, praising, mention of postpartum struggles, some swearing, pet names, thigh riding, dirty talking, masturbation, dom!jimin, big cock!jimin, missionary, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, nipple play, creampie, and multiple orgasms
⏤ author’s note: hiiii guys ✨ so here you finally have sweet love!! as “before you”, it’s an old fic that i rewrote and in this one i’ve added extra scenes and conversations. it was definitely fun to rewrite it and make it part of the dads universe 🤗 hope you’ll enjoy it & happy jimin day 💞
Slowly, you open the door of your daughter’s bedroom.
“Are you ready?” You ask your small daughter.
She’s struggling to put on her little blue dress, but today, she insisted on dressing by herself. Apparently, a little girl at her school already does everything alone, and Moon, your four-year-old daughter, wants to be just like her. But in general, your little daughter has been showing you that she wants to become more and more independent.
You can totally understand her, you absolutely want her to do things on her own but it’s also okay to ask for a little help.
“Let me help, booboo.”
You rush in her direction to help her out with her dress. She doesn’t push you away or anything, she just lets you give her a hand. As you do so, you simply can’t believe that she is already four years old. For you, she’ll forever be the tiny little baby that she was at her birth.
Moon was born prematurely, almost five weeks before the due date. She was tiny and more fragile, but she quickly grew once outside and she easily gained weight. The doctors and nurses were actually very impressed by her fast growth. You still remember how proud you were of her ⏤ and you’re still very proud of everything she accomplishes.
But since the day she was born, you can only see her as a tiny little baby. Your tiny baby.
“Mommy, daddy is coming soon?” Her little eyes look up at you.
You quickly glance down at your watch to check what time it is.
“He should be coming any minute,” you tell her.
Moon’s father, Jimin, isn't your partner anymore, and today is the day he’s coming to pick her up to spend the week with her. When you broke up with Jimin, you agreed to share Moon’s custody. One week she’s with you, the next one she’s with Jimin. In the last three years, everything has been working out pretty well.
“Have you already chosen the movie you want to watch?”
For the past couple of weeks, the day you or Jimin pick up Moon at the other’s place, the three of you watch a movie together. You always come around 2 pm to enjoy a good afternoon together. Moon is always the one to choose the movie, and you and her father just let her do. It’s better if she enjoys this moment as much as she can. She doesn’t like watching tv, but she can open an exemption for her disney movies.
Since she’s a little baby, you’ve been watching all the disney movies with her so she would know them when she’s older. Today, she loves them so much that she just wants to watch them, making you and Jimin watch them again and again.
“Not sure yet,” she answers. “We can choose when daddy comes.”
“Okay, booboo.”
The dress is finally correctly put on your baby, she looks so beautiful. Every week, when Jimin takes her, it always breaks your heart. You perfectly know she’ll be in good hands but being apart from your baby is tough. If things depended on you, you’d be 24/7 around your daughter. But that’s life. She has a father who isn’t your partner anymore, and she deserves to be with him and to be loved by him. The only perk of sharing custody is that you can do your own things when Moon is at her father’s.
Your eyes roam at the tiny little girl standing in front of you, causing a smile to spread on your face. She looks a lot like her father. She isn’t totally a mini-living version of him, but she inherited a lot of his traits. There’s also a lot about her personality that reminds you of him. She clearly takes a lot after him. However, your favorite thing about their resemblance is the way she smiles with her eyes just like him.
The doorbell rings, making your daughter run to the entrance to open the door to her beloved daddy. She always does that when he comes, she always wants to be the first to see him. As you leave her bedroom to join the two of them, you hear Jimin’s voice.
“My little princess,” he says before grabbing his little daughter.
From afar, you watch this tender moment between a father and a daughter. Their reunion every two weeks melts your heart. It just perfectly shows the sweet and gentle love they have for each other. Even if today you aren’t with Jimin anymore, for sure, you chose the best father for your daughter.
As you see them today, you believe that breaking up was the best decision you both took three years ago. Things wouldn’t be as they are today, you’re completely sure about it. Most probably your little family would be more broken, and you’re convinced that you wouldn’t even speak with your ex which in the end would be absolutely sad.
At first, you deeply regretted offering your daughter this kind of dysfunctional family. For a long time, you were persuaded that she would be destroyed because of this separation that happened when she was only seven months old. However, as you and Jimin made everything to remain friends for her own good, you got to see your daughter blooming into this remarkable human being. In the end, this dysfunctional family is her kind of normal because you always made sure she came first.
“Hey,” you say as you get closer to the two of them.
Jimin’s face turns to look at you, his smile never leaving his face. Your heart squeezes when his eyes lock with yours. He looks absolutely stunning with that brown polo and black classic pants. His sleeves are rolled up, and you can see in his hands a black cap. His strong arms tightly hold your little princess who is now looking at you too.
Lately, things have changed between you and Moon’s father. After you ended things with your ex, a sexual tension has been growing between the two of you. At first, it was just a simple flirt between the two of you, something completely innocent. Honestly, you let it happen because it reminded you of the ten years you spent with him. It felt good to be back to how things were.
Seeing movies every sunday with your daughter is just an excuse to spend more time together. Honestly, it’s good to be able to spend more time together. Also, you’ve noticed how happier your baby is after the now-weekly movie session. In the end, this little excuse to flirt more and be more together has a lot of positive outcomes.
None of you has actually thought of what could eventually happen if you decide to ever go further than flirting. However, you are both trying to be extremely careful because there is Moon. Any decision that you might take will impact her first, and you both want to keep this dynamic that has been working for three years now.
“Hi, yn,” Jimin says as he takes a step closer in your direction.
The man presses a kiss on your cheek, causing an intense wave of heat to suddenly grow inside you. Lately, every time he presses a soft kiss on your cheeks or even if his body brushes against yours, you instantly feel extremely hot. The power the man holds over you still blows your mind.
Moon also takes advantage to press a kiss on your other cheek, and you smile as the two of them simply show you affection.
“Mama is really beautiful,” your daughter says as she looks now to her dad.
Your daughter always adores complimenting you, she probably takes that after her father. While you were together, the man would shower you with compliments, it was his way of showing his love for you. It honestly made you extremely happy, and now, you have this little pumpkin who constantly does the same.
“She really is!” Jimin agrees, his eyes still devouring you.
Your eyes don’t ever leave his figure. Jimin has been letting his hair grow lately, and you believe that it suits him really well. With the cap in his hand, you can totally picture him with it on his long hair. He must look like a whole damn snack. A snack you’d definitely love to take a bite.
“And both of you also are very handsome!” you reply with a bright smile on your face.
They are more than handsome. They are perfect. The most perfect human beings you have ever laid eyes on. Well, technically, Moon is only this perfect because the man holding her right now made love to you almost five years ago. She is perfect because her father is too.
For a brief moment, your eyes glance at the two of them, but every time they land on Jimin, all you can sense is the growing sexual tension. The tension between you and Jimin has reached its highest peak for the past few days. The man in front of you has been texting you a lot, being quite flirty with you, and honestly, he would have preferred if the two of you were alone. But today, he’s here for his daughter. For you, he already has some ideas behind his mind for another day.
“So, we’re going to watch that movie?” Jimin asks your little daughter.
His eyes move from you to his princess. Every time he looks at her, all he thinks about is the ten years of sweet love he shared with you. The ten years spent with you were definitely the best years of his life, and just like you, today, he doesn’t regret how things have changed between the two of you. For sure, he would have preferred to give another kind of family to his baby. If he could, he would give her the same kind of family he grew up in.
But it’s life.
Things can’t always be the way we want them, but Jimin has been trying to give the best to his daughter. Being on good terms with you has always been his top priority because he knows it will affect your little baby. Her happiness comes before anything else.
“Yes!” Moon exclaims with delight.
The three of you head to the living room, Jimin sitting on the couch while you grab the remote control. He sits on the couch with Moon on his lap, she gets all comfortable in her father’s arms before you quickly join them. As you turn the tv on, you take a seat next to your ex. Your little baby looks at you with a bright smile on her face, showing you just how much happiness this moment brings to her.
“Which movie do you want to watch?”
Moon starts thinking about what she’d like to see but knowing her, it’s probably going to take her three hours before she makes a decision.
“What about Frozen?” you suggest as you set Disney + on tv.
“No,” she says, shaking her head.
“Zootopia?” Jimin proposes.
Moon doesn’t seem convinced by your suggestions. That girl doesn’t watch that much tv but she’s still very tough when it comes to choosing something. On top of that, she’s also extremely tired today. Last night, she wasn’t feeling very well which led her to not sleep a lot. Most probably, she’s going to fall asleep during the movie but it’ll be okay. You prefer that honestly.
“Raya!” She almost screams as she sees the movie being suggested on the screen.
“Okay, booboo,” you say as you select Raya and the last dragon.
Moon gets all comfortable on her father’s lap after he pulls a blanket on her small body. You smile as you see them. The bond between a father and a daughter is truly magical. Every time you see Jimin and Moon interacting together, it reminds you of the close relationship you have with your father. He has always been there for you, he has always given you the right amount of love, and since you were a little baby, you’d do anything for him.
As you see Moon and Jimin, you know that they’ll share the same bond. It will for sure be different but it will be a very strong one. Plus, she’s a total daddy’s girl. She has Jimin wrapped around her little fingers, and he’ll do anything for her. For sure, in the future, she’ll be the one doing everything for him.
On the couch, you try to get as close as possible to them, but you also try to not stick your body against your ex's. Although things are getting to a completely new place with him, you’re just scared to do something completely inappropriate, especially with Moon around. When there’s just the two of you, it’s okay to be very touchy or to be flirty, but when Moon is around and awake, you try to be very careful with everything you do.
The movie starts, but you already know it by heart. Your daughter adores it so much, you have seen it a million times. But honestly, you also like the movie so you don’t mind watching it over and over again.
As the movie progresses, Jimin slowly moves closer to you while your baby is falling asleep in his lap. Since he’s really subtle, you don’t even notice his body getting closer to yours.
“She must be pretty exhausted,” Jimin whispers in your ear, causing you to jump with fear.
“Gosh, you scared me, Jimin!” You press your hand on your chest before looking up at him.
His face is very close to yours, his hot breath is falling on your face, and his dark orbs are glued on you. The last time you were this close was a week ago, at his place. Before the movie session, you both prepared some snacks in the kitchen, and you almost bumped into each other. That closeness almost caused you to kiss but it didn’t happen since Moon abruptly appeared in the kitchen.
Your heart is beating extremely fast in your chest. He’s way too close to you, and you don’t really know what to do. So your eyes glance down at your daughter to avoid looking at the man who has been haunting your wildest dreams for the past few weeks. As you look at your baby, you can see that she’s already sleeping peacefully on her daddy.
“She didn’t sleep well last night,” you admit as you watch her sleeping like a little angel. “She wasn’t feeling well, and she spent most of the night awake.”
Slowly, you glance up at him to catch a bit of his reaction. His facial expression gets softer as he realizes that his baby must be pretty exhausted. Nights like this are something you are both familiar with. Moon is still very young so she gets sick pretty easily which also impacts her sleep quality. Thankfully, she takes naps the day after to compensate.
“I’m actually relieved that she fell asleep now, I was scared she wouldn’t sleep at all today,” you tell him.
“But how was she this morning?” He asks with concern.
“She was sleepy but I put her in front of her favorite cartoons,” putting her favorite cartoons always makes her sleep, and it’s something that surprises you. “My parents were supposed to come but I canceled last minute to see if she could sleep a bit before you’d arrive.”
The entire morning, she was lying on the couch with her little milk in her hand and her eyes glued to the tv. Those things comfort her when she’s not doing well, and they always help to put her back to sleep. However, this morning, she only slept for about an hour.
“She didn’t sleep a lot, I guess she was just too excited to see you today.”
A small smile appears on his face. He also gets pretty excited when he needs to come to your place to pick her up. He loves to see his daughter.
“You could have told me,” he says. “I would have come on another day.”
“She’s not doing well, Jimin, and she needs her father.”
Just the thought of telling her that her daddy wouldn’t be coming today devastates you. You know how much she was looking forward to this exact moment. Nothing is as important as this right here.
“She would have cried if you didn’t come. She loves those movie sessions with us, she loves to see us coming to pick her up every Sunday. This is what helps her to feel good. I don’t want to take this away from her, especially when she’s not feeling well.”
Jimin presses a soft kiss on your forehead. Even if today you aren’t together anymore, he’s sure he chose the best mama for his baby. There’s nobody else he would have loved to have a kid with, and if he ever wants to have more, it’ll be with you. Nobody else. Even all the exes he has accumulated for the past three years can’t compare with you.
His mother told him once that no matter what, he’ll always be drawn to you. Not only you are his first love, but you’re also the mother of his child. Even if you’ll never be together anymore, the love and bond between you will always be special.
However, today, he’s convinced that it goes beyond that. Today, he’s convinced that he’ll never be able to love anyone else. Those last three years without you have taught him that. He has grown to understand that a life without you isn’t even possible.
The two of you started dating when you were only fifteen. You were very young but madly in love. Nobody thought things would work between you because you were very different. Jimin was the typical bad boy while you were more of a discreet girl. It almost looked like a cliché teenage movie, but eventually, the two of you completely changed the other.
After eight solid years of relationship, things started to get pretty rocky. All due to a friend you met at work. Jimin considered that he was clearly flirting with you, even in front of him when you strongly believed it wasn’t the case. Slowly, jealousy started to take a big place in your relationship and it destroyed the trust you both had for each other.
Since you didn’t want to lose Jimin, you took some distance from that coworker but it was obvious that your relationship with your boyfriend would never be the same. Things were different but you were doing everything to try to save it. In the middle of all that turbulence, you got pregnant, and you both worked harder to make it work.
Moon’s arrival clearly changed everything, but she didn’t help to improve your relationship. Everything was already falling apart when you got pregnant. When you realize it, you simply decide to end everything before it got worse. It wasn’t easy for the two of you. It was definitely hard to put behind ten years of love.
But it was the best decision for Moon.
“And how are you feeling?”
Jimin knows that if Moon hasn’t slept, you didn’t too. His little girl always needs her mama when she’s not feeling well because nobody can bring as much comfort to her as you do.
His concern warms your heart. Beyond being all flirty with you, Jimin has also shown a lot more love to you. In the end, you’re not just Moon’s mother. Slowly, you rest your head on his shoulder because you need to feel him in any way. He puts his head on top of yours, his heart being overwhelmed with love. Two of the women he loves the most are snuggled up against him.
“I’m tired, but I’ve known worse,” you whisper.
The first weeks of Moon’s life were a nightmare, and you survived them. She was very tiny and needed her mother and father. She’d cry a lot which was totally normal for a newborn since she wasn’t able to take care of herself. On top of that, she was born prematurely so you’d visit the pediatrician quite often to make sure she’d be alright.
So if you survived that period, you believe that nothing can be worse than that.
Although your daughter is sleeping peacefully, you and Jimin keep watching the movie together. This feels like heaven for the two of you. Almost like you were brought back to three years ago.
Once the movie is finished, Jimin takes Moon in his arms and places her on her little bed. He’s definitely not going to take her home now, he prefers that she sleeps. From her room’s door, you watch him put her carefully on the bed, an apparent smile growing on your face. He pushes the sheets on her tiny body before joining you.
As his eyes roam your face, he tries to think of a way to express his wish to stay longer. He’s thinking about how to formulate it without sounding like a desperate man. However, he ignores that you want him to stay.
“Do you want to stay until she wakes up?” you offer him.
Without any second thoughts, he nods, more than happy to stay longer than he was supposed to initially.
“A glass of wine?” you suggest.
“No, I still need to drive Moon to my place,” he tells you. “But if you have anything else, I won’t say no.”
Certainly, you have more than just wine to drink in your house. Your little daughter is too young to drink alcohol, but she’s obsessed with apple juice. You always make sure to have enough of her favorite juice at home so for sure you have some of it. The two of you leave her little room to head to the kitchen. Once you’re inside, you open the fridge to see what you have inside to drink.
“I have some leftovers of Moon’s apple juice in the fridge,” you tell your ex. “Or I have water,” you show him the bottle on the worktop of the kitchen.
“I’ll take the apple juice.”
His fridge is also full of apple juice just for his little baby. Every Saturday, he does some grocery shopping, and he buys everything Moon loves. He constantly makes sure to have all her little things in his house in case some emergency appears and she has to stay with him on the week she’s supposed to be with you.
You take the juice box as well as two glasses, and you fill them with the sweet juice. You hand one glass to Jimin before taking the other for yourself. His eyes never cease to glance at you. He takes one sip before putting his glass on the little table. The man comes closer to you, your heart hammering in your chest as the distance between the two of you slowly disappears.
Your mind keeps wondering what he’s going to do. After ten years of relationship, you can easily say that this man right here is completely unpredictable. He can go from sweet to dirty in a blink of an eye. And when he gets dirty, he really gets super dirty. His super dirty mind will bring the two of you to bed, his head between your thighs.
Once his face is super close to yours, your eyes are instantly fluttering shut. A smirk grows on his face as he watches you closing your eyes. His breathing caresses your face while his sweet scent lingers in the air. Your heart is beating extremely fast, ready to leave you at any moment.
“There’s something we started last week that Moon didn’t let us finish,” he whispers in your ear with his deepest voice.
Shivers run down your spine, and you keep your eyes close, too scared to take a look at the man in front of you. You perfectly can picture the expression on his face right now. For sure, the dirtiest smirk is on his face, and his eyes are filled with lust. That expression will for sure have you so weak that you’ll instantly fall into his arms.
“What are you talking about?” you tease him a bit.
You perfectly know what he’s referring to, but it won’t hurt to just play a tiny bit with him. Well, most probably, Jimin will tease you a million times more.
“Do you want me to remind you?”
Instantly, you open your eyes, your heart pounding extremely fast as you realize what is about to happen. For the past week, your mind has been thinking over and over again about the moment where you almost kissed. That moment, you desperately wanted to taste his lips on yours again but Moon put an end to that.
Jimin’s eyes are hungrily devouring you while he waits for an answer from you. Your eyes move from his eyes to his plump lips, resting a little too much on them while you wonder how it will feel to kiss him again. Will it be like before? Or will it feel like kissing him for the first time? The more you think about it, the more you want to taste them.
“Yes, remind me what Moon interrupted,” you almost beg.
The black-haired man doesn’t waste another second before pressing his lips against yours for a fervent kiss. His hand finds its way to the back of your neck, holding you while he hungrily kisses you.
After three years, you’re kissing again. It seems unbelievable.
His lips are extremely soft, but you were kind of expecting it. His plump lips have always felt soft when you both kiss, and you always loved that. However, even if you were expecting this softness, this kiss feels like the first one. This seems like it’s the first time you’re doing it while you have ten years of kissing history. Slowly, he starts moving his lips to passionately kiss you.
Soon enough, his tongue is licking your lips so you can open your mouth. His tongue is desperate to meet yours after all this time. He’s desperate to deepen this kiss because just your lips on each other aren’t enough for him. He has been dreaming of this for the past couple of days.
His hands move to your waist before bringing your body closer to his. He’s craving to feel more friction and to simply feel your body pressed against his. This sudden closeness after three years of simply co-parenting is driving both of you completely crazy. The two of you are starting to pant hard but it clearly doesn’t matter.
His hands snail up to cup your face in them while the kiss becomes more and more ardent. This kiss is clearly indicating how desperate you both are for each other. The sexual tension has really been too much to handle lately.
Out of breath, you break the kiss before pressing your forehead against his. Jimin is smiling, his eyes glued to your face while you try to catch your breath. Even after all those years, he still finds you extremely pretty and attractive.
As you look down at his hands, you notice the tattoo on his wrist. Four years ago, a couple of days after Moon’s birth, he got the number 13 tattooed. Not only does it stand for his birth date but it also stands for Moon’s birth date. Just like her father, she was born a 13. That tattoo always warms your heart in unexplained ways.
“We should probably move to my room in case this goes any further,” you suggest before looking up at him.
“But do you want to take this further?” Jimin asks.
Even if your body is showing all the apparent signs that you want to do more than just kissing, he wants to be completely sure you want this. He doesn’t desire you to regret this tomorrow morning when you wake up. Even though this might be a simple one-night stand, he doesn’t want you to regret it.
“More than you can imagine,” you reply before pressing a soft kiss on his lips.
The father of your child kisses you back, more than excited to show you how much he misses you. You intertwine your fingers together before guiding you both to your bedroom. The two of you try to be as quiet as possible since Moon is peacefully sleeping, and you don’t want to wake her up after the terrible night she had.
Once inside your bedroom, you make sure to close the door. It wouldn’t be a great idea to have Moon seeing you doing unholy things with her father. Hopefully, she’ll sleep for a good two extra hours, and you won’t need to worry about being caught by your daughter. But it’s better to take precautions.
Jimin’s eyes roam the room where he hasn’t ever come in three years. After your breakup, you sold your shared apartment to move into a new one. The memories shared in that place were too intense and none of you wanted to stay there. Quickly after, you moved into this apartment but the only room Jimin never got to see was your bedroom.
There is barely any decoration. There’s just a big bed in the middle of the room, two nightstands, one on each side of the bed, and there are some pictures here and there, mostly pictures of Moon. This room reminds him of his own bedroom.
After living with you, it was hard to be on his own. A bedroom without you by his side was also extremely hard so he decided to put the bare minimum. However, his bedroom feels constantly empty, almost as if someone is missing. Today, he’s convinced that you’re the one missing.
Jimin kisses you again once his eyes have done a quick tour of your bedroom. Naturally, you move to your bed where you know things will take a sexual turn. You can still stop things if you desire but your body is desperately craving for your ex. Your body needs are completely clouding your mind, and you honestly don’t care. Right now, all you want is to be intoxicated by your first love.
As you break the kiss, you take his brown polo off, revealing his bare skin to your hungry eyes. You enjoy the view while being sat on his lap; his torso is in full display just for you. The first thing that catches your eyes is his ‘nevermind’ tattoo, it’s still extremely big but you always loved this tattoo so damn much. Then, you can’t help but notice how toned his torso has become.
“You’ve been working out a lot for the past three years,” you say as your fingers touch his rib tattoo.
“After Moon’s birth, I became so lazy, and it was time to work out again like I used to.”
Jimin used to work out so much before your daughter’s arrival. There wasn’t a day where he wasn’t at the gym working out or he wasn’t doing any sport. He used to dance a lot as well as doing karate.
“Do you still dance?”
Your fingers trace from his tattoo to his chest, causing Jimin to shiver at the feeling of your fingertips brushing against his skin.
“Of course, I never stopped,” he replies before pressing a quick kiss on your lips. “Dancing saved me after our breakup.”
Hearing that your breakup equally devastated him breaks your heart. Jimin deserves all the best in the world because he’s such a beautiful soul. Never before have you met someone like him. He was your sunshine when you were together. Unfortunately, things weren’t working anymore, and it was definitely better to simply let go even if it was painful.
And it was.
Raising Moon on your own and not having Jimin constantly by your side was extremely hard. For sure, it was the most complicated time you faced in your life. But today, things are better and that experience made you grow as a human.
You press your lips against his, expecting to reassure him in some way. He licks your bottom lip before he grips it with his teeth, making you moan. As he hears your sweet moan, his dick twitches inside his pants. As the sweet moan leaves your lips, you open your mouth, and Jimin seizes the occasion to slip his tongue inside your mouth. Another moan leaves your pretty lips at the feeling, and unintentionally, Jimin flexes his toned thigh. That simple action is felt in all the right places in your body, making your pussy clench around emptiness.
Jimin instantly smirks, looking like the devil himself, and his hands snail down on your body to take off your shirt. His fingers softly caress your back as he brings you closer to him. His soft gestures create goosebumps all over your skin and a small whimper leaves your lips.
His lips come closer to your ear before he whispers in the shell of it. “Take your pants off, honey.”
Slowly, you stand up to undress in front of the man. He bites his lower lip as you unbutton your jeans, his length growing harder in his pants at the sight you’re offering him. He hasn’t seen you dressed in so little clothing in more than four years. The last time it happened was during your pregnancy. After Moon’s birth, you simply avoid having any sexual interactions.
His cock twitches when he sees you wearing only your underwear. Even after giving birth to his favorite human, you look fine as hell. The thought of knowing that in a couple of minutes you won’t be wearing anything is slowly driving him crazy.
When you start walking closer to him, Jimin adjusts himself in the bed, his back pressed against the headboard. He spreads his legs, subtly making you understand to take a seat on only one leg. There’s no doubt that he wants you to ride his thigh, and nothing in the world would make you happier than doing it.
Dry humping is something you used to do a lot when you were together. Your sex drive was insanely high during your whole relationship, and you’d have sex in very unusual places, even in public. It was hard to resist each other.
As you place yourself on his thigh, Jimin’s eyes roam your body. He bites harder on his bottom lip, especially once your body is on his thigh. This is highly alluring.
“You look like a fucking dream!” He whispers.
In those three years, he has seen a very huge amount of women but you are for sure the prettiest he has ever seen. He still perfectly remembers how he constantly compared all those women to you. It was most probably toxic, but you’re the only person he has ever found pretty.
The compliment makes you smile as you know it’s a sincere one. After giving birth to Moon, it was hard to look at yourself in the mirror. Your body changed so much but with time, you learned to love it even more than before. That body you were despising was the first home to your baby and it also provided her all the nutrients she needed after she joined you. That was more than magical. Your body deserved to be loved for that.
With the way you’re sitting on his leg, Jimin now has a proper view of your black laced panties. They hide enough of your private area but they also reveal just enough to make him want to see your pussy. His eyes are completely glued to your clothed pussy pressed against his dark pants.
As you’re scared that Moon will wake up in the next few minutes, you waste no time in rolling your hips against his toned thigh. One of the perks of all the dancing and karate classes he took younger is his extremely toned thighs. Even when he stops working out or dancing, they are still super toned.
But damn, those thighs have already procured you so much pleasure.
“Fuck, yn,” he groans when you start moving your hips against his thigh.
Jimin presses his lips on yours for a filthy kiss, his tongue passing past your lips to meet yours. This feels more than good. He forgot how everything about you can be addictive, and damn, he wants to do more than this. He wants to fuck you senseless until all you can think about is him.
As his tongue plays with yours inside your mouth, his hands find their way to your waist and guide your hips as you’re straddling his thigh. A small moan leaves your lips but the man in front of you swallows it directly. Those intimate moments between you are something he has missed dearly. The connection you have is something extremely unique that he never experienced before with anyone else.
Even if he wasn’t virgin when he met you, he truly discovered everything with you. The two of you explored so many things in your sexuality, and it made the bond between you grow stronger. When he looks into your eyes, he can exactly tell what you want, he doesn’t need you to verbally express it, something he couldn’t understand with any other girl.
Your first love pushes his thigh firmly against your clothed pussy before flexing the muscle once more.
“I like how you’re riding my thigh, yn,” he whispers against your lips.
As you’re slowly moving your hips faster, you place your hands on his shoulders to balance yourself. Jimin shivers as your soft hands touch his body.
“But I want to feel you properly,” he adds.
Of course, he’s enjoying this moment with all his soul but he craves more. One of his hands slides down on your body to tug aside the fabric of your panties until your clit is directly pressed against his black pants. A breath falls from your lips as you drag your pussy against the thick material of his pants.
Jimin pulls you firmly against his flexed muscle, and once his hands are back on your waist, he quickens the pace of your hips. Although you’re fighting as much as you can to not moan a lot, it’s almost impossible due to all the pleasure you’re feeling at the moment. This will for sure wake up your little baby. A trail of barely audible moans leaves your mouth, loving the friction of his pants against your pussy.
“I wish you didn’t have to hold back your moans, honey,” he whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I’d love to hear you moan my name.”
Jimin is a master when it comes to dirty talking. He just knows what to say and when to do it. In your ten years of relationship, he was able to make you come just with words which is extremely incredible.
As you’re riding his thigh harder and faster, his cock gets harder and tighter inside his pants. If he doesn’t do anything right now, he’ll explode in his pants. While you’re still completely euphoric by the way you’re riding his thigh, he lowers his pants and underwear a tiny bit to allow his cock to slap against his lower stomach.
When you notice the little monster being freed, your eyes glance down at it. His cock takes your breath away, standing proud in between your bodies. His fingers grab a hold of his cock before moving them up and down the length. This sight alone gets you wetter.
“Fuck,” he mumbles, his head slowly going back at the feeling of his fingers on his length and your clit rubbing against him. “You’re doing this so well, honey.”
Your teeth bite your bottom lip as you stare deep into his eyes. The intimacy of the eye contact with the friction against your clit makes the wave of pleasure grow intensely inside you. You know that you won’t last long before your orgasm hits you hard.
“Pleasuring yourself on my thigh while I touch myself,” he growls in your ear while his hand keeps pumping his cock. “It’s extremely hot, honey.”
Jimin runs his thumb over the tip of his cock, his teeth gripping his bottom lip between his teeth. The pace of his strokes on his cock follows the pace of your hips working on his thigh. You can see on his face that it’s also a matter of minutes or seconds before he’s coming on his hand.
“Fuck, yn,” his eyes glance down at your throbbing pussy rubbing against his thigh, “you’re doing it perfectly.”
At his words, you buck your pussy faster against his thigh. You can feel that you’re getting closer and closer to hitting your orgasm.
“Jimin,” his gaze meets yours once again when you say his name, “I’m so close...” you almost whimper.
The hand resting on your waist snails down on your body, his thumb starting to circle on your clit. It instantly sends you over the edge, the wave of pleasure hitting you hard. You bite your lips and close your eyes at the overwhelming feeling. You try as hard as possible to not moan as you don’t want to make too much noise.
The sight of you coming undone makes him come. Just like you, he bites his lips to refrain any moan to leave his lips. Your daughter’s sleep is extremely important. As the orgasm overwhelms him, cum flows on his hand and some spurts of cum hit his abs.
Your eyes glance down with marvel at the way he’s coming. His hot cum flowing from his head makes you want to lick it. Before any of you gets the time to do or say anything else, you hear the handle of your bedroom’s door moving.
“Shit, she’s awake,” you swear before quickly standing up to put your clothes back on.
As you’re putting the clothes on again, you give Jimin some towels to clean himself before he also puts his clothes back on. A loud knock is quickly heard, and Moon’s voice calls for you. Her little sleepy voice melts your heart instantly, causing you to feel sorry to have closed the door. But damn, you don’t regret anything that happened with Jimin.
Moon knocks again at the door before speaking once more. “Mama, why is your door closed?”
Once you’re fully dressed, you take one quick look at Jimin. His clothes are again on him but his hair is all messed up. Anyone looking at him can perfectly understand that he just had an orgasm. A small smile appears on your face.
Quickly, you run to the door and open it to your baby. To her surprise, she sees both her parents in the same room. That is something quite unexpected for her, but she’s happy that her mama and dadda get along so well.
“Why is dadda in your room?” She asks, her little finger pointing to her father.
As she raises the question, you know that you have like five seconds to come up with something otherwise it’ll be suspicious. Jimin gets closer to the two of you, his hand pushing his hair back to arrange it a bit.
“We were taking a little nap while you were sleeping,” he presses a small kiss on her forehead before taking her in his arms. “But how are you feeling, my little princess?”
Jimin knows that if he completely changes the conversation’s topic, Moon will forget about this little weird moment. None of you ever imagined being interrupted by your little daughter during such a moment, but that for sure made it unforgettable.
“Tired,” she simply replies before pressing her little head on the crook of his neck.
Your heart instantly melts, and you can’t help but press a soft kiss on her forehead. She’s absolutely adorable but you know that she’s sick. For sure, tomorrow, you’ll have to go to the doctor with her to see what’s going on with your little baby. You and Jimin hate to see her like that, you feel extremely powerless.
Jimin’s aware that he can’t just take her home like that, she needs her mama more than anything else right now.
“I’ll take you home with me now, baby,” he starts saying. “What do you think if mama comes with us?”
His eyes glance down at you to see your reaction. He believes it’d be a good idea that the three of you go to his place so Moon can fall asleep easier tonight.
“If mama is okay to come with us,” he adds.
Your hand brushes back your daughter’s hair so you can see her little face even if she’s hiding most of it. Nothing will ease your heart than going with them to Jimin’s place. Tonight, you know you won’t be able to sleep if she’s far away from you while being sick.
“I will come with you, booboo. Is that okay for you?” You ask her before pressing a sweet kiss on her plump cheek.
Of course, you’ll only go if she wants it. You would never want to make her feel uncomfortable in any way. You’ve already been a lot of times to his place when she was feeling sick, and it wouldn’t be something new. But this time around is different, you’ll be leaving your place together to go to his place. This never happened before, and you’re a bit scared that she wouldn’t feel comfortable.
“Yes, I want mama,” she says with a very little voice.
Your heart aches at her little voice. You hug Jimin to have your daughter in between the two of you. Feeling loved during this hard time for her will for sure help her, you know it. She always calls for the missing parent when she’s sick.
“I’ll come then,” you whisper.
Although this little hug is mostly for your daughter, your and Jimin’s hearts are also overwhelmed with love. This sweet and soft moment right after such a wild moment feels like going to heaven. The three of you close your eyes to enjoy this very rare moment.
This is family, an unbreakable bond between parents and their children.
The three of you are in Jimin’s kitchen.
Moon is sleeping once again in her father’s arms, she fell asleep right after eating her dinner, and you and Jimin are talking. After arriving at his place, you and her father prepared dinner together. You also took her temperature, and it’s unusually high. There’s no doubt that tomorrow, you’ll call her pediatrician to check up on her health. Something is definitely wrong with her, and it breaks your heart.
“Tomorrow, I’ll call the pediatrician to check if she has some availabilities.”
Your fingers run through her soft black hair, the exact same hair color as her father’s. She looks like a little angel when she sleeps, and when she’s sick, her little cheeks get pink which makes her look even cuter.
“I’m so worried,” you add.
Jimin’s eyes move from his daughter to you.
“She’s going to be okay, she’s a little fighter like her mama,” he tries to reassure you. “She’ll be fine in a week or so.”
“I know but my little mom’s heart always gets so concerned when she gets sick.”
His face gets closer to yours before his lips press a soft kiss on top of your head. This tender gesture really warms your heart. You’re more than thankful to have him by your side when it gets hard with Moon.
“It’s normal, but I’ll always be by your side, yn.”
When your eyes look up at the man holding your baby, you close the small distance between your faces by kissing him. Those past few days and especially today have confirmed that the flame that you thought had died three years ago is still there. Your heart still deeply loves Jimin. Your ex wasn’t expecting this at all but it definitely brings hope for the future.
“Thank you, Jimin.”
He presses another quick kiss on your lips.
“We've been on this together since the second Moon bloomed in your stomach,” his eyes look down at the little princess sleeping in his arms.
Being a father has been the biggest achievement of his life. Nothing brings more happiness than seeing his daughter bloom into the little person she’s becoming. She’s very strong and independent which always makes him feel pride.
Becoming the father of Moon only happened because you carried her for nine months before giving birth to her. He’s a father because the two of you worked together to bring her to life and to raise her. So, he’ll forever be thankful for it.
“I’ll put her in her bed, she’ll be more comfortable,” Jimin says before the two of you stand up. He holds Moon tightly in his arms as he walks to her little bedroom. You open the door for him, and once again, he puts her on her bed.
Hopefully, tonight, she’ll be able to sleep a bit more than she did last night as well as during the day. Your eyes glance down at your baby with concern. All you hope is that tomorrow she’ll feel at least a bit better because you won’t be able to handle seeing her like this for a long time.
Jimin leaves her bedroom after he makes sure that she’s safe under her bedsheets. Since Moon is deeply afraid of the dark, he leaves the door open so the light of the hallway lightens her room.
���Would you like to stay a little longer?” he asks while you’re walking in the hallway. “I’d like to suggest bringing you home,” he quickly glances at his daughter’s bedroom, “but there’s Moon.”
Jimin would have loved to drive you home so he’d get a tiny bit more time with you. However, his little princess is sleeping in her little bed. He can’t leave her here or to take her with you.
Your heart is beating fast. It’s a bit surprising that he’s proposing you to stay at his place. Well, it occurs you that maybe ⏤ just maybe ⏤ he wants to finish what you started at your place. You wouldn’t mind at all to end what you began earlier. Sex with Jimin has always been mind blowing. For sure, after three years, you still have to rediscover each other in bed.
“Well, I’d like to if you let me,” you finally say with obvious nervousness in your voice.
A bright smile appears on his face as he hears your words. He doesn’t dare to look at you as he also feels nervous. Obviously, he likes you and wants to maybe give another chance to your relationship.
But being around you, and even thinking of spending the night with you, makes him feel like this is all new. It makes him feel like he’s back to high school when he was trying to flirt with you more than ten years ago.
“There’s nothing I’d like more, yn,” he says while finally looking at you.
You’re now at the entrance of the living room, standing face to face. He leans against the outline of the door while crossing his arms against his chest, his eyes never once leaving yours. For a moment, you simply don’t speak, only looking at each other.
His eyes are sparkling, just like they did when you started dating thirteen years ago. You wonder if you’re looking at him the same way. Definitely, you really want to stay a little longer with him. It feels good to be around him. It feels good to be wanted all over again by your first love.
“In all honesty, yn,” Jimin says after a little while. “I would really like to give us a second chance.”
The past three years, he has been hooking up with a lot of girls. At first, it was to drown his sorrows, to get you out of his head. He knew he’d never find love in those women, and honestly, he didn’t want to love any of them. The pain of the breakup was still hard to handle.
However, a year ago, he fell in love with Gayeong. He really loved her, he even introduced her to Moon. In his mind, he was certain that he’d be with her for a long time. On your side, you were dating Seokhoon for two years. This new blended family was working just fine for all of you. Moon even adored Gayeong and Seokhoon.
Nevertheless, things with them ended. It was hard but slowly, everything changed between you. What was an innocent flirt turned into Sunday’s movies and suddenly, you’re here, wanting to give each other another chance.
And now, your heart is hammering like crazy in your chest, ready to burst any second.
“Flirting with you lately has brought me back to when we were fifteen,” a little smile appears on his face. “To when I was trying to desperately get you.”
You still remember perfectly how it felt to be chased by the one and only Jimin, the popular guy every girl desired to be with. You were young and very naive as well, but he was the first man to have ever truly seen you. Of course, you really wanted to start dating him, but you still make it a bit difficult for him to see how far he’d go to have you.
However, once you got together, you thought it’d be for life. Time prouved you wrong. Yet, lately, you’ve been feeling like probably he has been the one since the beginning. Maybe, you just needed some time apart to grow.
“Things are for sure different now due to the fact that we have a daughter,” his smile grows bigger as he mentions his daughter. “But the feeling is the same,” he pauses for a hot minute. “I want you.”
Right there and then, you feel the world freezing instantly. Even though it was pretty clear that he’s been wanting you back in your life, it’s something different to hear it from his mouth. It makes it feel real.
Although it warms your heart to hear those words, there is a harsh reality. Today, you have a daughter, and obviously, she’d understand you’re together. Most probably, she’d be super happy that her parents are back together. So, if things go wrong all over again, she’ll suffer the most from it.
There’s no doubt that no matter what, you’ll keep it cordial with Jimin. But it’d be too painful because this time around, Moon will be hurt.
“Jimin,” you break the small distance between you. Your face gets super serious, and Jimin almost instantly regrets his words. “As you said, things are different now. We can’t just step into a relationship like that. There’s Moon. If this all goes wrong, she’d be the first impacted.”
His eyes briefly close. The last thing he wants is to cause any harm to his daughter, but he can’t just push away his feelings for you. It’ll be unbearable to be around you and not be able to love you the way he wants.
“I know, yn,” he opens his eyes. “She’s always the person I put first under any circumstances,” his right hand travels to your cheek to caress it. “But right now, you’re the person I want to be with,” you close your eyes. “This whole thing of watching movies together wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t love you,” he marks a little break. “I never stopped loving you, yn. Never,” he insists on his last word.
Jimin being vulnerable like he is right now doesn’t happen often. Most of the time, he hides his feelings, too scared to be hurt. During your ten years of relationship, he wouldn’t hide anything from you. But he closed himself to you once you broke up. So this right here warms your heart beyond comprehension.
You rest your hand on top of his, stroking it with your thumb. “I don’t want to get hurt,” evident sadness can be heard in your voice. “I don’t want our daughter to get hurt.”
Your daughter’s father wishes he could promise that none of you will get hurt, but it’s a promise he can’t make. The future isn’t predictable. However, he can promise he will do everything in his power to avoid hurting any of you.
“I can’t promise that, yn,” he murmurs.
Hearing those words break your heart. It’s obvious he can’t guarantee that, life is full of surprises after all. The proof is that you broke up three years ago when you thought he’ll forever stood by your side.
“But I can promise you that I’ll do everything in my power to not do it,” you open your eyes to look at your first love. “That’s all I can do.”
You press your head against his chest while closing your eyes. Although you wish he’d say something else, you perfectly know that it’s the only thing he can promise. And it goes both ways. Obviously, you want to try again but there is a possibility where you’re the one hurting him. There is possibility where you’re responsible for your daughter’s pain.
Jimin wraps his arms around you before pressing a gentle kiss on top of your head. For a while, you simply stay like that. There’s nothing to be said nor that needs to be said. This is a moment you both need. Of course, there’s been a lot of flirting, and teasing lately which inevitably lead to what happened at your place. You don’t regret it. But it opens the door to a possibility where you both give another shot to your relationship.
However, it leaves you wondering if it is a good idea.
“Can I stay for the night?” you finally break the silence.”I don’t want to stay too far from Moon,” you try to find an excuse.
“Yes,” he instantly replies. “I’ll leave you my bed and I’ll sleep in the couch.”
This sounds like the correct approach, especially since you’re not sure about anything right now. Even though there’s nothing more you’d want but to sleep next to him, it’s better like that.
“I can sleep in the couch,” you tell him. “I almost invited myself to your place so no need to make you sleep on the couch.”
“You’re my guest so I’ll never make you sleep in my couch,” he starts saying. “And my couch can turn into a bed so don’t worry, yn.”
Well, knowing Jimin, you can argue as much as you can, he’ll stand his position. There’s no way he’ll let you sleep on the couch so no need to keep arguing. It’ll just be a waste of time for both of you.
“Okay,” you say.
You don’t let go of Jimin for a solid ten more minutes. It feels good to be in his arms, it feels good to only be intoxicated by his sweet scent. There’s no other place you’d want to be right now.
After that, he guids you to his bedroom. This is a place you’ve never seen before. It feels like you’re violating his intimate area. Your eyes wander in this very simply decorated room while he grabs some bedsheets.
“Would you want pajamas?” he proposes.
“If you don’t mind.”
Jimin simply nods before handing you one of his pajamas. He doesn’t have many pajamas, he only used them during winter as it gets very cold. Otherwise, he doesn’t use them at all.
“Thanks,” you smile at him while grabbing it.
Your baby’s daddy smiles back at you. “I’ll let you sleep. Let me know if you need anything else.”
“It’s okay, don’t worry,” you tell him.
“Goodnight, yn,” he whispers before pressing a kiss on your forehead.
“Goodnight, Jimin,” you reply with your eyes closed.
This morning, Moon woke up feeling great which was a huge contrast with how she was yesterday. But it eased your mother’s heart. So you took the decision with Jimin to not go to the pediatrician today, but you’ll keep a close eye on your baby.
When she saw you this morning, she was more than happy. She definitely wasn’t expecting it, you could tell it by the way her eyes were sparkling. She was even happier when both her parents dropped her at school. Afterwards, Jimin drove you to your place so you could get ready to go to work.
This weekend was intense, but one you’ll for sure never forget. You flirted with your ex-boyfriend, then had sex with him, and finally, had an openhearted conversation.
The entire day, your mind was constantly replaying Jimin's words, wondering what to do. However, what you’re certain of is that you want to have a conversation with him. So, you texted him that your mother would pick up Moon at school.
Jimin is the proud owner of a coffee shop. He opened it a couple of years ago, it was his dream. It wasn’t easy at first. There were a lot of expenses and it wasn’t easy to find customers. But slowly with time, it became easier.
As you step inside the little shop, you instantly notice that there are quite a lot of people. You aren’t actually very surprised. This coffee shop is currently a bit popular on instagram and tiktok, and in some way, it makes you incredibly proud of him.
Your eyes look around, admiring how it has been decorated. It’s been a while since you last came here. Well, if you think about it, the last time you were here was at the very early beginning. This shop has existed for like four years, it’s as old as Moon. So, it definitely has been awhile.
Jimin now has four employees helping him out with everything. At some point, it became just too much for one person so he slowly hired new people. Right now, he is behind the cash register, talking with someone. He’s smiling at the person, and you can’t help but find him adorable.
As he looks up, his gaze meets yours before his smile grows bigger. Although you informed him you’d like to speak, he wasn’t expecting you to actually come here. He thought that you’d like him to come to your place or something like that. However, it’s a very pleasant surprise.
You walk in his direction, queueing as it’d be rude to just pass before everyone else. You look at menu hanging behind Jimin, thinking about what you’d like to order. When you’re finally in front of him, you both look at each other with the brightest smiles.
“What would you like to order?” he asks.
“Well, I’d like to order the owner,” you teasingly say, causing Jimin to blush. “Together with a simple latte with soy milk and a portion of banana bread.”
For a brief moment, your baby daddy seems to be thinking about what he could reply to this.
“I can give you all of that,” he replies. “For the owner though, you’ll have to wait a little longer.”
“No problem,” you know you both look like two idiots right now but you absolutely don’t care. “How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing, it’s on the house.”
“I can’t accept that, Mister Park,” you instantly say with evident seriousness.
Jimin sighs. If he even tries to argue, he knows it’s a lost cause. He knows how damn well you can be very subborn. So he ends up making you pay for your order. You then head to the counter on your right to wait for your order, but the wait isn’t long as a server quickly brings it to you. Afterwards, you look for a place to sit while you wait for Jimin, aka the man who owns your heart.
Since it’s almost closing time, it slowly gets less and less crowded. Once there are barely any customer left, Jimin takes a seat on the chair in front of yours, your bodies being only separated by a table.
“Wasn’t expecting you to come,” he smiles at you.
“Me neither,” you reply. “I decided last minute,” you continue. “I was going to wait at my place, but then I wanted to see your coffee shop.”
Jimin doesn’t know how to describe how he’s feeling right now. For sure, it’s been a long time that he hasn’t seen you here. Last time, Moon was only a couple of months old.
“I’m very glad you came.”
Seeing him this happy warms your heart beyond comprehension. On top of that, being around him lately also makes you happy. He’s obviously a fucking tease, but he’s someone you deeply care for and love too.
“Me too.”
“So where do you want to go?” he asks while placing his elbows on the table to rest his head on his hands.
“Maybe to my place?” you suggest. “Or yours if you prefer.”
“Both suit me,” he says. “Then, we can go to yours.”
He isn’t sure what you want to talk about, but as long as he gets to spend a tiny bit more time with you, it makes him happy.
You simply nod at his answer, and he quickly informs one of his employees to close the store since he’s leaving now. In a matter of seconds, he’s back again so you both can go to your place.
Jimin drives you to your place, and quite honestly, it’s incredibly hot to see him driving. As you sometimes eye him during the drive, seeing him so focus reminds you of your own daughter. She has the same face when she’s deeply concentrate. It always startles you how much she takes after him.
Once you arrive at your place, you both take a seat on the couch. Your love interest looks at you with evident joy, you don’t doubt at all that he’s glad to be here with you. Honestly, you’re happy as well.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about yesterday’s conversation,” you decide to not waste any second and jump directly into the much needed conversation. Jimin nods. “I guess you could understand by all that has been going on that I want you too.”
Jimin’s heart starts beating crazily in his chest. He’s more than aware of it, but it still makes him feel something to hear those words coming out of your mouth.
“I also never stopped loving you, and honestly, I only realized it when this whole Sunday’s movies happened.”
During your relationship with Seokhoon, you thought you had gotten over Jimin. It wasn’t easy sometimes to see him when you’d pick up Moon, but you were convinced you had moved on. Honestly, it was just a mirage. You never stopped loving him, and flirting with him is what made you realized it.
“I guess I will never stop,” you add. “I would also like to give us a second chance, but I’m so scared of everything.”
Jimin gets closer to you.
“I’m afraid to be losing you all over again, I’m afraid to unintentionally hurt you, and Moon, I’m afraid that this time around it won’t work, and I’m afraid of too many things,” you admit. “This time around, I feel like our decision will have a bigger impact on everything.”
Jimin is beyond grateful that you openly speak about your concerns. It isn’t easy to be vulnerable in front of someone we love.
“For sure, it will,” he tells you. “So much has happened since we started dating thirteen years ago, but we still want to be together.” Jimin makes a small break, his eyes roaming your face. “It won’t be easy, but we can at least try. We can still give each other another chance while still being careful.”
You bite your lower lip as you think about the situation. There is no doubt you’ll keep flirting as you still deeply crave each other. There will be more sex since you can’t resist each other. No matter what you decide, it won’t change the reality. At least, if you give your relationship another shot, on top of all this physical attraction, there will be romance.
“However, I’m not really sure how we could hide this from Moon, but we’ll have to be careful,” he says.
“Me neither,” you say. “She was so happy this morning to see us.”
You can still picture her radiant smile and the joy on her face when she spotted you at her dadda’s place. Naturally, you wish to constantly see her this happy but for now, it’s best she can’t imagine you being together again.
“Yeah, she really was,” Jimin smiles with evident joy.
Right now, being with Jimin is the only thing you desire with your entire soul, but as you said before, you’re simply afraid of too many things. However, for the entirety of the day, you’ve only been thinking about the fact that if you don’t try, you’ll deeply regret it. You can’t predict the future and there is a possibility where this doesn’t end well, but you’ll never know if you don’t try.
Maybe you’ll be extremely happy and fulfilled.
“I love being around you,” you say. “I really love our Sunday’s movie sessions, and I would like to turn it into an everyday thing.” Your heart is beating crazingly in your chest. “I’m very afraid, but I want to try because I love you.”
Jimin’s heart is ready to burst any minute.
“I just want us to protect Moon as we’ve been doing so far and to only let her know once we believe it’s the right time.”
Moon’s father wraps you around his arms as he’s noticeably happy. Even though he expected this conversation to be about a possible relationship, he never thought that you’d actually say that you wanted to try. He believed that you’d needed some more time before noticing the obvious.
However, he’s extremely happy to hear those words.
This hug catches you by surprise but it’s a very welcomed one. Jimin’s embraces are your favorite place on earth. Even when you were going through a break up, he hugged you a couple of times and it felt great. For a minute, it felt like everything was still going well.
“I’ll promise I’ll do everything to never hurt you,” he whispers in your ear.
Your eyes flutter shut to savour this wonderful moment.
“Me too,” you whisper as well.
Those promises are the only ones you can make. All the rest will obviously depend on external factors, but hopefully, it won’t cause any harm to your relationship.
Less than a year ago, none of you imagined this moment would happen. Back then, you were in happy relationships so this would be the last thing you’d think of. But you’re definitely in very different places today.
When you put an end to the hug, you fervently and desperately kiss each other. You kiss as if there’s no tomorrow. His tongue meets yours in your mouth, your teeth bite his lower lips, and soft moans escape both your moans as your eagerly kiss each other. It’s a kiss filled with passion.
“We didn’t finish what we started here yesterday,” he says against your lips and out of breathe. “Would you mind if we finish it?”
Your eyes look up at him. One of his hands place a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Well, it depends what you have in mind…” You tease him before biting your lower lip.
A smirk grows on his face before he gets even closer to you.
“I was planning to have sex with you.” He whispers in your ear, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine.
Instead of replying, you just press your lips again against his to kiss him. There’s no hesitation when he kisses you back, enjoying every second of being able to kiss you again.
“Maybe we should move to my bedroom,” you say.
Jimin simply stands up before holding your hand and rapidly walking to your bedroom. By the way he’s walking fast, you can tell how needy he’s right now.
“Take your clothes off, honey,” he says once you've reached your bedroom. “I need you, now.”
You simply nod before stripping for him. The urge can be felt as you quickly take off your clothes while he does the exact same thing. Jimin doesn’t want to wait anymore, he wants to have you in every possible way. After all, it feels like he has been waiting three years for this moment.
You also take off your underwear, offering him the opportunity to see your body completely naked for the first time in three years. Jimin takes the time to roam your body once he’s also naked. He still remembers how your body was before you split. Although most of your pregnant belly had disappeared, it wasn’t how it was before you got pregnant.
But today, as he looks at you, it almost feels like you’ve never been pregnant. There are no visible indications of pregnancy, but your body has clearly changed. He can’t really express it into words but you’re different, and he loves it. He loves every single part of you.
On the other hand, Jimin’s body is being hungrily scanned by your lust-filled eyes. He has also changed, he’s not the same anymore. His body is definitely more toned than before. For sure, he’s a damn dilf.
As you both look at each other, it feels like you’re discovering the other for the first time. Almost as if you’re about to have sex for the first time. Well, your first time together was a little bit awkward but you made it through together.
“Lay in bed, baby,” he instructs you once you’ve both finished glancing at each other.
The urge he’s feeling is something that you sense, and you can understand it. If Moon hadn’t woken up, you would have had sex right after that mind-blowing thigh riding. You don’t even question his commands, laying on his bed. His body hovers over you, his eyes getting lost in yours.
It’s been a long time that you both haven’t found each other in this exact position.
“I missed you,” he admits with a deep voice, his thumb caressing your cheek.
At the feeling of his soft finger on your face, you close your eyes. The love you share with Jimin has always been so sweet. A sweet love.
“I missed you too, Jimin,” you answer before pressing a soft kiss on his cheek.
Without any warning, his other hand moves down to your core, his fingers brushing over your folds, snatching a moan out of you. His thumb rubs your clit, making you moan even more. He’s doing this to prepare you for his cock, knowing perfectly that he can’t just slip it into you, it’ll hurt you too much.
Once he feels you’re wet enough, he stops torturing your clit with his fingers. He places himself in between your legs, spreading them a bit more while he pumps his cock with one hand, getting ready for you. His face leans closer to yours, his lips finding yours for a passionate kiss as he buries his thick cock inside your soaked core, stretching your velvety walls.
For the past three years, you’ve had sex with other men. It was good, and with others, it was like going to heaven. But having Jimin’s cock pushing inside you is like going back home. Jimin is your first love, he was the first man with whom you had sexual activities. Then, for ten years, he was the only man you ever had sex with. So, in a way, your body considered him as your home.
Having sex today with him is like you’ve found your way back home.
His cute little hands find their way to your waist, caressing your soft skin. Both of you softly groan as he slowly pushes his thick cock inside you, but his lips swallow every sound. Your eyes roll back, loving the feeling of his length stretching you open.
Jimin takes a little step back to take a look at the wonderful woman beneath him. As he does so, he gives you the time to adjust to his thick size.
“Did I already tell you how pretty you are?” he asks before he leans closer, pushing his cock a bit deeper inside you. You shake your head because you want to hear him say it. “You’re so damn pretty, yn!”
His lips kiss yours once more, but honestly, all this making out feels amazing. It brings peace to your soul. A much needed peace.
“I’m going to fuck you nice and slow,” his deep voice whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
When he takes that deep voice, you just want to come because damn, it’s so sexy.
“Go for it, Jimin,” it almost sounds like you’re begging him.
Honestly, all you want is to be fucked rough and good as he used to do it before. You want to see if this older version of Jimin can still keep up with how he used to fuck you four years ago. He pulls back a bit to look at you in the eyes, a smirk rising on his face.
“After this, you won’t be able to walk.”
You desire nothing more than this. To be completely sore.
Jimin slowly pushes back, leaving only the tip of his cock inside you. His eyes never leave your figure, watching you holding back every moan that threatens to leave your mouth.
“It’s so good to feel you again around me.”
Brutally, he pushes his cock fully inside you, and this time around, you can’t hold back a moan. A smirk appears on his face as he realizes that this time around, he managed to cause a little moan to leave your pretty lips.
For a little while, he doesn't move. He’s only hovering over you and watching you with delight. His eyes glance down on your body. Watching your pussy sucking his cock is something that he used to love to do.
Jimin groans as he watches himself buried deep inside you. “Your cunt takes me so well, honey.”
You close your eyes, completely enjoying having him fully inside you. Once he sees that you’re ready to take more, he pulls back brutally before slamming himself back into you. The bed under you squeaks, the headboard hitting the wall just behind you.
Your first love once again stops when he’s fully inside you, torturing you just to hear you begging him to fuck you. This is also something he deeply missed, so he’s for sure going to make you beg all night long.
“Jimin, move,” you start saying. “Please,” you beg.
As he loves to hear you begging for more, he just gives you what you want, pushing his cock back before slamming into you with both hands on your hips. The slick sound of your pussy soaking his cock quickly fills the room.
“Shit,” he gasps, thrusting into you with no mercy, “you feel so good.”
You’re completely drunk in the feeling of his cock filling you up, his hips hitting against yours with every thrust. This all causes sparks of pleasure to shoot throughout your body, your arousal dripping from your core and creaming his cock. Jimin smirks as he notices the sticky mess you’re causing.
Everything about the moment that is happening right now is something you both missed so dearly. These past few days of flirting with each other caused your feelings and the physical attraction to grow a lot. It wouldn’t surprise any of you if you keep doing this all night long.
His cock is buried deep inside you, causing you to grip the sheets as hard as possible to steady yourself from Jimin’s hard thrusts.
“You’re so fucking wet, honey,” he hisses before biting his lower lip.
His hands press harder into your skin when he feels your walls tighten around him. Every time he pushes his hips back, he watches with delight the way his cock is completely covered with your arousal. Nothing drives him crazier than seeing this, you can see it in his eyes.
Jimin bends down, pressing a sloppy kiss on your lips while his thrusts slow down. A desperate whine gushes from you, a sound that he swallows directly. His hands move up on your body, grabbing your breasts and squeezing them before his fingers start playing with your nipples.
“It feels wonderful,” you whisper as you’re completely lost in your euphoria.
Slowly, Jimin begins to thrust hard into you again, your walls sucking in his cock as he slams his hips into you with more force. His fingers keep playing with your very sensitive nipples, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. His eyes look at you, contorting with pleasure as it slowly builds within you.
His hands can feel the way your body quivers with each thrust. The way he’s torturing your body is only making you lose yourself further.
Small groans leave his lips when he feels the warmth of your walls wrapping tighter around him. “Your cunt is clenching so hard, honey.”
The sweat is dampening his body, sticking his black long hair to his face. With your hands, you push some strands of hair to be able to have a proper look at his handsome face. Jimin looks like a god right now.
“You’re so pretty,” you whisper as you move your hips to meet his thrust.
The man over you smiles at your compliment. It always feels heartwarming to hear you compliment him.
“Thanks, honey,” he presses another sloppy kiss on your lips while you keep creaming his cock with your arousal.
As he keeps thrusting into you, he senses how close you are. He knows that the vision of you coming will make him come as well. But before that happens, he needs to know where you want him to come.
“Where do you want me to come?” he asks, panting hard.
“On my belly,” you say as you touch your lower stomach.
For the moment, it’s better to not have him coming inside you. There’s absolutely no way you’ll get pregnant right now. You’re already scared of what is going on right now, and it’s better to avoid adding a second child to the mix. It’s preferable to enjoy your reunion.
His fingers pinch your nipples harder, making the wave of pleasure grow bigger inside you.
“I’m gonna come,” you exclaim with despair.
Jimin’s cock twitches inside of you at your words, a low groan rumbling in his throat. One of his hands slowly snails down on your body, passing your stomach, and landing on your throbbing clit. His fingers start to rub your sensitive spot.
The simple feeling of his cold fingers against your clit is what you need to be completely hit by your orgasm, making you come hard around him. Your arousal completely covers his cock while your walls are squeezing him on repeat.
While you’re completely lost in your euphoria, he speeds up the pace of his hips slamming into you to chase his own high.
The coil in his lower stomach tightens inside of him, and it completely clouds his thoughts. The only thing he sees is the image of you coming under him. Breathy whines escape his pretty lips as he looks down at the mess you made on his cock. His eyes are completely hypnotized by your body.
With despair, he pushes his cock out of you with his left hand. Instantly, hot spurts of cum are being projected over your stomach. Breathy moans escaping both your lips, a smile appearing on your face as you feel his sperm touching your skin.
Jimin collapses next to you, both of your bodies covered in sweat after this intense sex session. Your heavy breathing is now the only thing that can be heard in his bedroom, but you quickly stand up to grab a towel to clean yourself before his cum gets dry on your stomach.
Once cleaned, you hand him the towel so he can clean himself. “Well, this was something,” he says with a bright smile on his face while rubbing his cock with the towel.
“It definitely was,” you answer as you grab your bra and panties to put them back on. “Although you’re older, you’re still very good at it.”
“For the past three years, I’ve been taking care of other gardens,” you frown, not understanding what this guy is saying.
“You’re comparing a pussy with a garden?” you ask with obvious confusion and disbelief.
Jimin starts laughing at your reaction. He has an inside joke with his friends about gardening. Instead of saying that they are having sex, they’ll say that they are going to do some gardening. It all started when they were drunk and started comparing sex with gardening.
They said that it’s the exact same thing. For gardening, you take care of a garden, and for fucking, you take care of a pretty pussy. It’s weird, but it’s better to not raise any questions.
“Eeeh, you have a pretty little garden, honey,” he says while coming next to you to hold you in his arms.
“You’re weird,” you say before pressing a gentle kiss on his plump lips.
“And you love my weirdness,” you nod.
Jimin is your weirdo.
“Since Moon is with your parents, we could perhaps spend the night together and maybe go to a restaurant?” he suggests.
You nod once more before resting your head on his chest. It feels wonderful to be around him again. It makes you feel at home, and it’s such a powerful feeling. Even though you’re absolutely scared of what the future might hold, you feel a sense of completeness right now. It almost feels like everything is falling into place now.
You can’t wait to spend the rest of your life with your first love.
#bts#bts imagine#bts fanfic#park jimin#jimin#jimin imagine#jimin fanfic#bts fluff#jimin fluff#bts smut#jimin smut#bts x reader#jimin x reader#sweet love#spideyjimin
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Satoru's Psyche|Surfacing
"Power dynamics, they're fluid."
Session 1 of 10|Next Session
🗂️Patient Chart Update: Routine patient visit and care performed. Patient is stable, mostly corporative, and only mildly rowdy today. Vitals are clear, appetite is normal, nothing of interest to report other than slightly abnormal behavior resulting in the [REDACTED] incident, pending Nurse deliberation on how to proceed with patient disciplinary action. 📋 Length of Session (w.c): 5.2k out of "we will cross that bridge when we get to it 🤠" 💊Intake Chart (tags): this is a full-blown AU with a slowww build-up, yandere-ish behavior, pet names, angst, compulsive flirter Gojo (he literally cannot help it), mentally unstable Gojo, Nurse!Reader ✏️doctor's angel’s note: there’s something very, very special about how this story was born. extended author’s note at the end of this chapter if you’re curious|kk I'm done talking - enjoy Satoru’s Psyche. 🎼 Waiting room music: Child's Play|SZA
They all worshipped the strongest.
But no one saw the man; no one noticed the cracks until it was too late.
The first appeared after the Star Plasma Vessel mission—Gojo's near-death experience and first awakening.
Then, it was his best friend, Suguru Geto. His betrayal, death. Murder.
The blood on Gojo's hands left such a deep mark.
Devastation. Irreparable damage.
No matter what Gojo did after that, death followed him like a loyal dog.
And when the final crack happened in the Prison Realm, with no distraction from his own thoughts and burdens and painstakingly harsh reality, Satoru Gojo bent..then snapped.
He can't remember what happened after being unsealed.
All he knew was the blood that came afterward.
Apparently, he went on a rampage, but in his psyche, it didn't matter.
Nothing mattered.
And he didn't feel guilt—not in the slightest.
They must have gotten what they deserved, right?
The thoughts were deafening.
But Gojo’s natural tendency to play the hero was even louder and got the best of him. The realization of what he’d done was haunting—plaguing and persuading him like a Devil in his ear until he turned himself in to shut the voices the fuck up.
Once again, good ruled over evil and the world was safe.
In Gojo's own sick and twisted way, he had once more saved the day.
And as a thank you? He's here, in a fucking straitjacket, seals all around to make his cursed energy dormant. At least, that's what those old fools believe…
Gojo can't help but scoff, recalling all their nonsense.
“You're unstable. The mind needs to be healed.”
Blah fucking blah. What a load of bullshit.
However, society never took too kindly to a little mass murder, so fine.
Gojo will play nice... for now.
And for the most unexpected reason why.
His grin only deepens, a borderline predatory look as he hears those familiar footsteps.
Ah...how wonderful.
“There you are.”
The man waits by the door, shoulder framing your entrance and leaning on the wall. Welcoming, warm and expectantly, before the locks can disengage.
Like many times before, your eyes meet through the window pane. A dull blue under snowy white lashes, heavy and following yours, but barely piercing the plastic—small and artificial—only a thin layer of careful separation, but you both see right through it. Neutrality on your face but wavering sharpness in your eyes. And a glint in his as the familiar buzz! ushers you into his world.
“How’s my favorite nurse?” he asks like a broken record. All casual-like, as if his arms aren’t meticulously tucked into tight restraints that work hard against his muscled frame. “Missed your favorite psychopath?”
He couldn’t sound more arrogant, but still has to smirk watching you brush past him—expecting nothing less—but feels a different air.
There’s a pep in your step, carrying you into the stark white room and making it impossible to miss the subtle sway of your hips and dangling supply bag on your arm. Naturally fluid as if you’re oblivious to its sensual nature.
Gojo rarely saw you wear any emotion on your sleeve, let alone what he thought was hints of joy, but something was slipping through the cracks.
And what’s that? A slight grin on your face?
What exactly do we have here?
This attitude is foreign. Better than the blank slate or frequent exhaustion you usually walk in with, but this was a side of you that was unfamiliar.
What’s got you in such a mood, he wonders? And what else could it be, if not him?
It’s all because today is an “okay day”. And in places like your ward, “okay” is as good as gold.
Rounds have been fairly simple in the usually chaotic hospital—a small win if you put things in perspective, but it’s enough for you to feel good about it.
Hell, with the way things usually go around here, it feels like Christmas came early and you got just what you wanted.
A big, whopping present called “all of your co-workers showing up to work”. The standard for most workplaces but here, such miracles only exist in your daydreams to get through your usually fucked schedule.
But not today. Today, the angels personally visited your ward to carry your burdens and lighten your load. For the first time in months, you didn’t groan the second you saw your patient roster for the day and instead had to do a doubletake because the list was surprisingly short. Only your regulars sat on it and that could only happen if the ward was fully-staffed.
You thought it was a mistake when you checked the schedule this morning, but no, everyone’s name sat prettily on the sign-in sheet at the front desk—a sight you hadn’t seen since orientation and was confirmed with every familiar and slightly foreign face you passed in the halls.
There were no call-outs, no extra work, and the best part, no unexpected shift changes.
Overtime would not get its hands on you today and the thought alone made you feel lighter because enough time is spent in these melancholy walls as is.
With thoughts on the week’s end, you found yourself drifting through the day on autopilot. Wondering if you should make plans—doubtful you’ll see them through—and time seemed to be flying by with your thoughts. Following the rarely-seen routine you know like the back of your hand helped you blaze through the morning and grow closer to sweet rest for your already aching feet.
Miracles were coming in left and right, proof that today just might be your day. It’s still early, but no one had broken out of their room or flung any property around yet. Guards sit comfy and reclined at their posts, lounging around more than they’re being called, and you haven’t even had to run off to the lockers to change your scrubs that are usually ruined by now. Luck is keeping you high and dry—free from accidents or patient tantrums, both of which are all too common. And always seem to have your name on them.
But the cherry on top, second to none, pièce de résistance.
Is a possibility.
Just the teeniest, tiniest, sliver of a chance…to walk out of these doors early.
Be still your beating heart.
Early release?? Unheard of. You almost skipped through the halls thinking about it. Dreaming of the reclaimed time—the deliciously healthy heap of rest.
With no signs of trouble, aside from forcing yourself to chug a wildly unhealthy energy drink to fight off tendrils of sleep, you just may be in the clear.
Things seem steady in the sleepy ward today. So sure, you’re in a relatively good mood.
But is it good enough to deal with Gojo?
It puzzles you, how he always knows you’re coming before he sees you. How he sort of announces your presence before you get the chance. Like the honor belongs to him.
The psychopath.
Your head tilts at the diagnosis, hearing it come from his lips for the first time. Even if unseriously.
He’s self-aware, at least. Not that the confession makes your visits any easier.
Over time, after working so closely with a personality like Gojo’s, you’ve learned to take everything he says with a grain of salt. Especially when it comes from such shameless lips.
Answering his question with an eye-roll, you set your supplies down to pull out your clipboard and check his vitals. Something that once upon a time made your palms sweat and throat dry, but never showed on your face. You knew what the role required, what it would need for you to survive—intimidation and cowardice were not a part of it—and eventually, after you banged that into your head enough, even if you had to fake it til you made it, you became used to the routine.
As has Gojo, complying with each step on the checklist like it was second nature. Walking over to his favorite spot to be taken care of, the bed. Lifting his tongue to take his temperature. Offering his arm to check his blood pressure. Noting that his eyes aren’t bad today—not needing to wear his blindfold due to the security system. Doing it all without needing you to say a word. All within his control.
But the one thing he can’t get a grip on is how his heart begins to beat. Every time like clockwork the moment you lay a hand on his back to listen to it. Racing in his chest—thumping through your stethoscope—while he wears the calmest face.
Curiosity called you after noticing it a few times once you determined it wasn’t a condition. Guaranteed to start up with the gentlest touch that he was surely used to.
So, what exactly goes on in his mind in these moments? Despite hiding it so well?
What could possibly be making Tokyo’s most unhinged, mass-murderer, so flustered?
You never have much time to think about it because it won’t matter in the next few seconds anyway. Sitting still enough to get through vitals was as serious as Gojo gets, making the quickest part of your visits with him the easiest.
Everything that follows the second you put your kit away is pure…surprise.
“So…are you gonna undo the straps this time, sweet nurse? My arms are sore.”
He pouts. Sweetly. So devilishly charming. As he did so often with a flash of those cerulean, blue eyes that could make and break hearts.
You sigh. One could almost forget that by society’s standards, he’s a “dangerously unstable individual.”
Something you’re acutely aware of. And trained for. Which is why you don’t mind the coquettish jabs he throws your way—and why he keeps on throwing them.
You aren’t aware but these hourly visits, along with his agreement to stay put, are the only reasons why he’s still here despite being Satoru fucking Gojo and simply walking out. It’s not like anyone could stop him if they really wanted to, and he knew that.
Truth is—it pissed Gojo off, being stuck here. Cooperative. It was fucking irritating, to say the least.
He’d rather be tortured than bored and might’ve second-guessed his decision to surrender if he knew the punishment would be…this.
But lo and behold, here you are. Relief in the flesh while he bides his time. One that he wasn’t expecting.
“You sure are possessive today.” You hide a smirk, draping the stethoscope around your neck, his heartbeat returning to normal after losing your touch. “Am I really your favorite?” The leather straps hug his pale skin a bit tightly, but his mobility is good enough to ignore his request to loosen them. That would be suicide.
He tsks, eyes sparkling at your words—a warning glimmer hidden beneath the icy gaze.
Chilling. But the least bit surprising.
Gojo and cattiness go together like love and war—and he wears it with his whole chest.
Even when unprovoked, he’s known for being….testy. Trying his hand again and again until he gets some kind of reaction. Waiting to see what makes someone bite.
But there was something disingenuous about this petty quirk. The repetition and how it seemed to lack a goal. How he seemed almost…desperate for interaction—attention—any attention.
Eventually, once you sat in his face long enough to learn how to disassociate with a straight face, you figured out that he just loves to hear himself talk. Like that one kid in class who’s always inserted themselves into every conversation and made it about them.
He rarely gives you a hard time though—less than most of your other patients in fact—and usually sends more kisses than cuts. Occasionally, when you find them…okay, or tolerable enough, you indulge him and this charade between you two—like the high school crush it resembled. Strict. But harmless.
And you’re only entertaining him now because he’s one of your last patients for the day. A fact not lost on him, but disregarded nonetheless. Even if you were just playing along, he knew there had to be more depth. All the masks in the world couldn’t hide that smile on your face.
His laugh breaks the tension. “I'm a yapper, not a liar...Am I yours?” He raises a brow. “You didn’t answer me earlier.”
His low tone carries an unspoken weight. Cryptic. Eerie. Needy. Almost calling you like a possession more frequently than ever.
It isn’t lost on you that his affections have blossomed as you’ve spent more time together. Visits are supposed to be 10, 15 minutes tops—collect vitals, serve meals, give meds, and avoid accidents. But Gojo? He drinks up your time. Going on 30, sometimes 45 minutes of routine maintenance and “extra care”. This wasn’t standard practice, but they didn’t tell you that, among other things when you accepted the position.
Every time you cross Gojo’s threshold, you’re reminded that you’re not actually supposed to be here. You’re just a nurse after all, not a therapist, and lacked the credentials to even begin to handle a patient like Gojo. But in the end, qualifications don’t matter when his staff has a famous history of running away.
A fate shared by his previous nurse and therapist. Both fell victim to Gojo’s whimsical and relentless personality and suffered a mental breakdown from hell before quitting the ward. Capacity for hospitality completely shot, they nailed the coffin shut by ditching the healthcare industry altogether.
And that was after only a few hours.
In the beginning, you had absolutely no faith in yourself. Swore it was a sick joke as you couldn’t begin to fathom why they would even consider you for the job.
You??
Gojo the Psycho’s nurse? It would’ve been easier to turn in your resignation right then to avoid living in hell.
You wondered how your life would change as you got to know the world’s most hated man.
How long you would last—if he would let you.
Anxiety and nausea gnawed at the back of your throat as time grew closer to meeting him. But eventually, after running the scenario in your head a million times over and trying to come up with some sort of plan or plea for your life, the day came, and you stood before the unpredictable man who looked like he saw right through you.
Just the idea of being in Gojo’s presence is enough to let you know it’ll be unnerving.
But the moment was…odd.
Naturally, you wanted rely on book smarts and previous patient experiences to get you through what you knew would be a short and traumatic failed attempt at connection. But then you took a second to really look at Gojo, not study, but a kind of look that catches something…a conflict in his eyes—and instantly knew he was no ordinary patient.
He was something you’d never met before, and any attempts to use a cookie-cutter facade would quickly be chewed up and spat out.
So, you went with your gut—hoping to escape with some remnants of your sanity at least.
Who knew you’d end up surprising not only yourself but also the Director and all the other staff in the ward who watched with held breaths?
Gojo practically welcomed you with open arms. Flashing his pearly whites and dimples in a closed-eyed smile. You could hear a pin drop.
He didn’t bark, he didn’t bite. Only teased, feeding you sultry words with cunning lips until your face visibly flushed with blush. They didn’t warn you about charm. Debatibly the “worst” part about working with the blue-eyed lady-killer. Or that his devilishly handsome face would make you second-guess his sanity and guilt.
But you knew what this was. Or at least what it wasn’t and quickly put on blinders to every distraction he threw. Holding your breath the whole way through and surprising yourself every time you walked out his room. After your trial period had run for a few days with no mishaps—the opposite, really— you were promoted. And given a big, fat new check (certainly not for collateral).
You didn’t know whether to breathe a sigh of relief or concern.
Congratulations! You were now in charge of Gojo’s physical AND mental health.
Which meant longer, more thorough visits.
The idea was nerve-racking for weeks, to say the least. And because he has the nerve to be a karate-chopping ‘sorcerer’ or whatever it is that makes the man so dangerous, he needs careful safeguarding. Which means having his very own wing and accommodations in the ward. The only barriers between Gojo and doing whatever the hell he wants is one guard stationed near the entrance and some type of security system they can’t disclose to you. It’s supposed to suppress his abilities or something, you don’t quite understand itself yourself, but most importantly, it keeps him tame.
Still, choosing to grace his space almost daily always feels like tempting a snake.
But somebody has to do it.
And in a way, by his own means, offering a satisfied grin and all, Gojo had chosen you.
Even in the confines of a cell, with seemingly nothing left to live for and no room for emotions, you, this wonder, have managed to catch his eye. In a way that made him want to sink his teeth in and soak up your attention. For reasons you couldn’t be more unsure of.
“It would break my heart if it weren’t true,” he continues, sitting in the only chair in the room, “You’re my entertainment, you know? My doll to play with.”
You scoff, arms folding. The word doll echos in your ear like a chamber. That was a new one.
“You sure talk a lot of game for someone in your situation.”
“I love games.” He leans, eyes drinking in his favorite powdery blue scrubs that hug your frame in an all too professional manner. “Play with me, Nurse.”
Time belonged to Gojo, and he chooses to bide it with a little fun until release—or escape. His ever-changing mind hasn’t decided yet but it was far from a concern. Because the truth of this truce was painfully obvious. He knew he wouldn’t be here forever. And is quick to mention that he’d love to take you with him.
“If you can handle me.” He licks his lip. “Unless I’m too much for you.”
And there it is. That cool smile that sends shivers down spines. Irresistibly stirring your core every time he parts his lips.
You hated it—no one could deny his charm or his intimidating presence. Even in chains, shackled and restrained, he maintains some kind of control: crumbling walls with his charisma, waving around his amorous, overassertive reputation like a big red flag.
But you’ve already proven to not be like the rest, easily swayed or reduced to puddles. Your wall is firm. Solid. He baits you time and time again—a smile here, a sinful gaze there—only to be met with dismissive yawns. Rousing something inside of him that deemed you a challenge. Something worth exploring. You were…difficult.
You’re the one who laughed this time, shaking your head and tucking a hair behind your ear. He oozes confidence from every fiber of his being—and bores you.
“Are you going to tell me what you’d like to lunch today or just keep bothering me?”
And goddammit he has the audacity to grin. To tuck his lip under his teeth slow enough to make you catch it.
Your insolence is adorable, yet maddening; a cocktail he drinks with delight before realizing how much he loves the taste.
You were becoming really good at it, beating up his ego and turning a blind eye to his silly little flirts, but interest never faded from his gaze no matter how careless you seemed. Or were trying to.
He tsks. “C’mon, Nurse. If I can’t have fun here, where can I? Besides,” Sunlight streams in from his barred window as if on cue. “You’re the only thing here worth talking about.”
Butterflies? Knots? Maybe both fill your stomach.
Neither can be good for you in a situation like this.
The dreamy words whisper sweet nothings into your ear, and stroke your ego with a delicate thumb. Soft and gentle—and from a shell of a man.
A good turned evil.
And you don’t have to look too far to remember how he got here—to remember why the enchanting man before you is dressed in heavy white restraints and public enemy number one.
Guilt tugs at you for even joking around with him sometimes. You picture his victims. The lives forever changed. And how he didn’t seem sorry for it.
Besides, even if Gojo wasn’t a basket-case, it’s hard to look past how childish he is anyway—something you heard has always been a part of him. Something you couldn’t imagine dealing with for too long, even casually. It certainly wasn’t your taste, and under different circumstances, you’d no sooner fall for him outside of these walls than you would now.
But above all of the boundaries, restrictions, and pep-talks you give yourself, is the simple fact that you aren’t the day-one nurse he once knew. Now, you have a backbone and don’t hesitate to remind him.
“You’re such a flirt, Patient Gojo.” You make sure to catch his eye when you say it, “But compliments only get you so far.”
Patient.
It hangs in the air. Brisk and stale. A bit sour on the tip of your tongue. And acid in his ears.
With that, Gojo sits back, resting his cheek on a propped-up arm, gaze long and longing. Breathing slow as he thinks and nerves buzz between you two. Then his request comes, simple and direct.
“How about sushi? Raw and fresh.” And a psych ward delicacy.
He’s the only patient in the entire facility with such privilege—envy-worthy and used to his heart’s content. With full-scale unlimited access to all the gourmet treats and fine dining he could ever want, his meals are often better than the ones you bring to work. Gojo is above common hospital dishes, of course, and his indulgent appetite would accept nothing less.
But it wasn’t just about the food, no, negotiating that was too easy and barely worth mentioning.
This is a conveniently constant reminder that he is still capable of influencing things and making decisions with ease, from those he’s allowed to have access to him, down to his choice of meal.
It intrigues you. How he subdues himself to the masses but finds meaning in smaller wins. What he finds significant.
But none of that mattered right now, you’d finally been given an order and another win, even if it felt like pulling teeth. For now, it’s time to feed him and let him believe whatever he wants.
You pick up his tray from this morning, scanning the room to make sure no cutlery or dishes are missing. “Sushi it is,” you wink and call to be let out.
None of his staff are allowed the room key as a preventative measure to keep his chances of escaping to a minimum. As if a door would stop him but a key does exist and you’ve only seen it on the day the Director introduced you two, and it looked nothing like the keys used for other rooms.
When you come back with lunch, Gojo grows curious. Noticing how your body has relaxed over time, getting used to his presence every time you come in. Little nuisances like how you breathe a little easier in his space and sometimes smile with your eyes when he tells a stupid joke. The air is…changing. He wonders just how comfortable have you gotten?
“Finally back? I started to miss you.” It’s light but he can’t possibly resist testing the waters. “Would you like to eat with me, pet?” And it takes everything in you to suppress a visceral reaction.
He’s on a roll with the names today and you wonder what his affections might have been like in his life before. Sure, he’s a talker and a flirt, that much is obvious, but you wonder what his actual love was like? How did he show it if he ever got to? And if so, if he ever left anybody behind?
“You know the procedure, Gojo.” You wait with the tray in hand, brushing the thoughts away. Though the temptation savor what you knew would be premium cuisine begs you to do it, you know better than to start breaking boundaries now.
He deflates, brows furrowing. “Is it…really so necessary?” He knows the answer, of course.
You gesture for him to turn around but he holds your gaze, having a little stare down like he enjoys the silent confrontation. You raise an annoyed brow. “The food’s getting cold,” and tap the tray.
“It’s sushi.”
You huff.
He smirks before finally facing the wall, stilling his body in the tight jacket. When you’re sure he won't move, you set his food to the side and slowly approach to attach him to the latch on the wall.
Skilled fingers reach across his waist and you have to crouch a little to glide the heavy chain towards the loop at his hip. His skin flushes at your warmth, your proximity, as he can’t help but enjoy the intimacy of the routine power shift. Even if it was a sham, it was still one he reluctantly agreed to. To play nice. To be weak.
But this exchange, giving himself over to your authority, was oddly invigorating—like placing himself in his victim’s shoes to get a minuscule taste of his own medicine.
“Well, don’t look so happy about it,” he chuckles. Relief finds your face as you gently tug on the chain to make sure it’s secure, amusing the man towering over you.
The thoroughness is cute, all a part of a job well done and strict boundaries that drive a heavy wedge between you two. But it doesn’t bother Gojo. Because he’s certain, he knows, that your guarded walls will crumble sooner than later. All it takes is patience.
“Remember, Nurse,” he doesn’t turn around, “Power dynamics….they’re fluid.”
And you can almost hear the wink—the implied warning living on his slick tongue that pokes and prods with every interaction and sends heat to your rosy cheeks.
“You have a way with words, Gojo.” Again your eyes roll as you reach for the key to his restraints. The shackles fall to the ground, shrilling in the mostly empty room to allow him to feed himself.
A mix of groans and relief escapes his lips as he relishes the freedom from the stiff leather. He sighs, “Thank you, Nurse.” and rubs his tender wrists before abruptly filling your space. Nearly knocking you off your feet, but stopping just shy of your face. The monstrous chains strain against the wall, playing tug of war with the beast of a man and the florescent lights cast a spotlight on the sudden distance between you two.
You had never been this close.
“But don’t forget, I can turn these roles around. Anytime.”
Twinkles play in his eyes, dazzling you with a shine so bright you can see your reflection. But you also see the unhinged nature behind them just as easily as he sees the quiver of your lip feeling his breath graze the curve of your neck and raise goosebumps on your skin.
This isn’t just idle banter. It’s a stark reminder of Gojo’s capabilities that you had grown comfortable enough to forget. That you thought maybe you had become the exception to.
As he steps back and leans against the wall he could’ve torn down, there’s an unmistakable silence filling with tension. Hot and sharp like pins and needles. But instead of pushing you to run for the hills, to quit while you’re ahead and savor what’s left of the life you know, for once, your unrelenting mind dares to wonder where this twisted ballet will go.
It kills you to admit that their is something interesting about cat-and-mouse game he thinks you’re playing. Just as his affections have grown, your thoughts push you to imagine what could happen if you were actually…caught..
It’s idiotic, you know. You don’t need a sign telling you not to play with your life.
This is Satoru fucking Gojo, for Godsake. The murderer. The villain. A literal stain on the face of humanity.
Forget about what he may have been before. You never saw that Gojo, and he’ll never be seen again.
Your motto has always been that everyone is redeemable—but these types, Gojo’s type, are so beyond saving that it feels more like babysitting than redeeming a mentally unstable murderous toddler who could destroy a city in seconds.
Even for a man who speaks so carelessly, but teases a sugary-sweet tongue, it’s easy to see how and why he ended up here. Life had made him an example.
Proving that too much of a good thing will always spoil.
And as you watch him turn a wink and begin to casually snack on his meal, completely unconcerned with you or your reaction or response, it’s plain to see that his “affections” spare no one. Not even you.
You clear your throat and steady a breath. With the lightest voice you can muster, you remind him, “Empty threats are the best you can do, patient.” And turn to leave.
“I’ll be back later for your bath. Or maybe send someone else. Since you’re so excitable today.”
He pauses. “Oh?”
Is that a challenge?
His laugh echoes around the room like something out of a cartoon, fading away just as quickly as it came. He leans back, hair blending into the wall as he licks bits of rice off his thumbs—gaze sharp despite the jest.
Because the stakes are clear and you’re both aware.
But in case you don’t know the consequences he asks, “Do I seem threatened to you?”
You shift your weight. If Gojo is anything, he’s always playful. The man does not have a serious bone in his body, which makes him damn near intolerable sometimes, but it’s something you’re used to it. But not this tone. This tone has rocks in it, hard and heavy as he calls your bluff.
“Because my threats—,” he continues eating, “—are never empty.” He pops the last roll into his mouth. “You sure you wanna do this?”
There’s no denying the chill running up your spine at those words—playing out like casual banter over lunch instead of the battle royale it was.
As if the question were rhetorical, he adds, “Okay but like,” and coughs up another laugh, as if finding the entire idea ridiculous. “Who’d be dumb enough to replace you?”
To feed or not to feed? Now was a chance to bail out.
“Don’t worry about that.” And you don’t as you call to the guard, hoping to catch your break on time. “Just behave yourself.” Gojo would keep you here playing 20 questions all day if he could.
A bemused smile settles on his face and he shakes his head at your antics.
You were becoming increasingly enjoyable to interact with. And steadily digging yourself into a hole. You’ve been sitting front-row to the darkness within him enough times to be sure it is, in fact, very real, but still it’s impossible to ignore that there’s something driving you to pick up the shovel.
It isn’t just his pretty face and boyish charm. No.
It’s like he wants to get under your skin. In the best way.
Yeahhhh, this death wish is turning you every way but loose.
It’s silly, so stupid to even think about. Giving Gojo a smidge of an inch just because you feel there may be something more. Like there’s depth to his pretty words and clashing ways. Who's to say any of it is “real” anyway? He is insane after all.
Your mind and the door shut behind you, and you turn to peer at him through the small window. A mischievous yet bored look rests on his face.
You think you actually will send someone else. Just to show him what happens when he crosses the line. To reinforce business and boundaries.
You could also use a break yourself—Gojo is starting to feel… claustrophobic these days and if you aren’t careful who knows what could happen.
“Choose wisely,” came his voice from within the room,. “Every move you make counts. And cheating has consequences.” Footsteps approach the door. “You may think tagging out is all it takes to avoid our game, but let me tell you something…” He stops. “...you underestimate how quickly I can escape confinement before I’m noticed.”
And suddenly, this isn’t just a game anymore. And Gojo isn’t just some harmless tease.
Your throat is too tight to swallow and you fidget with your lanyard as if responding to his words.
Of course, he’s capable of breaking free. That’s not what’s worrying. But if it was because of you poking the bear, you trying to get on even ground with him and have the upper hand, would you be responsible if he did?
“No matter where they send you or who they send instead—” And Gojo’s comment makes it crystal clear.
“—I promise you, you’ll end up right back here.”
extended angel's note: first and foremost, just to give credit where credit is due, this is a chatbot i turned into a short story🧍🏾♀️. it was actually my first time dicking around with janitor a.i. back in like...april? and i came across this gojo bot with a suuuuper interesting prompt. [all of the prompt idea and calibration credit goes to the original creator.] i didn’t decide to actually get serious and start creating a story until around the end of part 2 - i realized i was having too much fun and was in too deep 🙇🏾♀️. SO after my decision to indulge madness, i didn't want to run up 10000 messages on janitor a.i. and decided to create the rest of the story on my own from there. everything after the prompt are my own words and i've had to weave every last bit of part 1 and 2 into a coherent story but everything afterwards is all me.
you can find the chatbot and play around with it yourself here but i strongly recomment doing so after finishing this short - think of it as a choose your own adventure afterwards in case you want my head on a stick after the ending 🤠.
tags list p.1: @reddiamondjazz @blkkizzat @kiwismoother @rune1920 @suguwife
@xerroe @enthyn @gloomuri671 @startatdawn @heijihatsutori
@inluvkai @ixqiix @strawnanamilk @rosso-seta @05-simply-06-simping
@sims-4lifers @bratidol @hyunsuks-beanie @luna-v-roiya @neteyamsluvr111
@supsiii @natadecoco30 @chiyokoemilia @ririoutspoken @kyoxko
@strawberrymilkshakes-posts @nen-nyy @cinnamorochiroll @kazeniya @maybe7tommorow
#bluuharem#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#jjk fanfic#jjk imagines#jjk smut#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#gojou satoru x reader#gojo smut#jjk gojo#satoru x reader#satoru x you#satoru x y/n#Satoru Psyche
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𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀(4)
Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader
𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: A guide on how to properly date your tattooed, big, bad boyfriend.
𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐒: Established relationship, slice of life
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Profanity, illness, fluff, mentions of blood, no curse AU, no mentions of y/n.
𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝟒: 𝐍𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐇
A/N: ik i haven't posted in a while (in my defence, school is taking up too much of my time to focus on anything else) but I got an off day and this was a quick write up (actually not) jhjhjhs wc - 3.7k. Hope you enjoy <3
Divider credits - @cafekitsune
𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝟑
It's not usual for Sukuna to fall ill.
However, when he does it’s like all the pathogens known to mankind have taken it upon themselves to infect him.
This time, it isn't so different after all.
Since the break of dawn Sukuna's been awake. Body twisted in an uncomfortable manner under the duvets, the dim flicker of the night lamp proves to be a companion in the otherwise solitary room.
"Fucking hell," He curses under his breath, shifting his position to ease the persistent ache that ripples through his body; his joints, for some reason, seems to have tightened itself to his bones. Slight movement proving to be difficult. While the air conditioner functions properly, a sheen of perspiration aglows his forehead—he swabs the moisture only to meet with another thin layer marring his skin, seconds later. He forces open an eye, trying to contemplate why your figure beside him does seems so fuzzy. No sooner, he can clear the mystery does a wave of shiver runs down his spine. "What the hell is this?"
The question leaves his lips, followed by strange churn of his stomach and on instinct he smacks his hand over his mouth.
The next minutes are blurred. Literally blurred for the brief time as if his body is set on auto-pilot, beckoning him to rise from the bed and walk to the bathroom.
As the expunging liquids leaves his throat and down the toilet does his distinct vision returns. Lips apart, he breaths in copious amount of air while the room seems to spin in a whirl. Once his senses have returned, he reached to flush down the contents only to halt.
Is that... blood?
.
"Temperature 101.6 °F and he threw up in the morning."
Sukuna would rather be anywhere but here.
Sitting in a doctor's cabin with you while the former wouldn't stop with his ridiculous questions. Inadvertently, he rests his scalp against the wall, a searing pain ripping from his chest every once in a while, causing him to jolt as if he's being electrocuted.
"Any other discomfort? Body ache or...?" Shinzo trails off, continuing with the physical examination of his patient.
In response, Sukuna shakes his head negatively. However, you take it upon yourself to be honest, "He does and he coughed through the whole drive."
"Not the whole—"
"Keep your mouth shut." Harshly you rebuke, shooting a scornful glare his way.
His lips curl down, on the verge to retaliate before the notion of it seems indolent. He's already been through a series of blood test and chest X rays since the last thirty minutes, exhausting him beyond relief; no need to add more to the list. Therefore, his mouth forms a thin line.
Shinzo hums, finishing with the check up as he returns to his seat across you. Scribbling down on the prescription, a knock sounds from the door and soon his assistant strides in with a number of reports. While the doctor reads through the files of his current patient, your hypertension manifests itself upon your being when your eyes find your boyfriend.
Awfully muted, his throat must have chipped while he threw up—reason to the unusual bleeding. Shoulders raised in a manner, tints of red stains his skin and the groans that escalates from him whenever he attempts to move just causes you to wince. You chew on your bottom lip, fiddling with the fabric of your jacket as the momentary silence in the room stretches. For too long that this might be the loudest silence, you’ve been in.
"Does he need to be hospitalized?"
"No—"
"I am not talking to you."
Sukuna clicks his tongue, just taking a mental note to give you an earful once all of this shit is over. It's so fucking funny. Oh, for heavens... he is perfectly fine. Well yeah, maybe some coughing fit but he can work through that for the day. No way did you call Kenjaku and call in sick for him. And he allowed that? Allowed you to drag you here as well? Alright, maybe he is sick.
Shinzo sets the files down, "Stage I Pneumonia," He concludes, straightening his posture and continues with the prescription. "No need for hospitalization but I am prescribing an antiviral— Tamiflu. Thirty minutes after breakfast, lunch and dinner for three days. Ibuprofen remains whenever he gets high fever and for the cough..." He pinches the bridge of his nose, ripping the sheet before passing it to you. "There's the Honiitus syrup, he can have 10 ml now. Rest, you know."
You nod, scanning the sheet in your grasp, irises halting on the specific medications. Craning your neck upto him, you ask, "Thank you and anything else?"
"Adequate rest and homemade food and he's good to go."
.
"Don't be difficult now, drink it."
"No."
Sukuna scowls at you and you scowl back. His eyes shifts to the tin medicine cup-cap in your hand filled with the amber coloured liquid which is supposed to heal his sore throat.
Currently, confined inside the four walls of his room, this place is 100 times better than that doctor's cabin and any hospital bed. He is sure just a whole day of sleep will make him back on his feet but you just have to be so... persistent.
"I am not asking, drink it." You extend your hand, bringing the liquid to his lips, only for him to turn his face away.
"And I said no," He spits back, eye twitching as he disregards your terse call. "Get that shit out of my face."
"This is for your own good, Sukuna. Stop acting like a child."
Sukuna only huffs in response, muttering a string of curses under his breath. No way is he letting you win this plus that thing in your hand smells disgusting.
“Absolutely not.”
You heave out loudly, "I don't want to force you."
That draws an almost amused chuckle out of him, he tilts his head—eyes shutting down and mouth clamping with a sound as another wave of nausea overrides him. Once composed, he reopens his eyes, challenge swirling in the crimson hues, "You think you can force me?"
“I don’t think so,” A mirthless smile curves into your own mien, you regard his dare with one of your own. "I know so."
"Sure."
"So are you going to be a good boy and drink it or do I need to make you?"
He scoffs, "Go on and try."
You pause for a second, bringing the cup down, gaze settled on him and for reasons unknown, Sukuna senses trouble. "Remember, you asked for it."
He shuts his eyes, rolling the irises behind the lids. You are just so funny sometimes. To think you can force him? Really? Even in this state, he can easily overpower you without even trying. Pick you up and throw you on the bed without any effort. But just for the jokes and laughs, he will let you get a head start.
In the reverie, he is when your warm palm grazes his jaw.
Here it comes.
Until it doesn't.
There's no hint of strength, no force, nothing as you let your palm trail over his skin. He opens his eyes and good lord's... You are close. Too close for his liking. Not that he is complaining. Of course. You can be closer if you want but wait– he is infected, right?
So you shouldn't be near him.
But it's like some hypnotism that's in play as he gazes into your eyes. With the added bonus of your soothing touch on his jaw, the pad of your thumb running on his lower lip—you pull down the flesh. He can see you more clearly than ever, from the slight furrow of your brows to the twitch of your lips and the light reflecting on your eyes.
It's clear.
So, so clear.
A heat spreads through his cheeks, mingling with the blood flowing in his veins and in seconds, his heart rate amplifies. Was it one of the side effects of Pneumonia? Shinzo obviously didn’t mention this but- fuck! You are here and the proximity only hitches the breath in his throat. Your rhythmic exhalation of air fans his skin and he swallows a lump.
Fuck!
He is truly sick.
You draw him in, "Open your mouth."
Before he can make sense of the situation, his body complies. Lips parting and soon you are pouring the medicine down his throat. He gulps, eyes still trained on you and yours on his.
You sit back on the bed and Sukuna blinks.
Wait– what just happened?
"That wasn't too hard now, was it?" You chuckle, pouring some water on the cup and swirl it.
"You– you tricked me."
"Oh? Did I?" Feigning innocence, you laugh again. "And what if I did? ...Oh, and don't make that face now, it doesn't taste that bad.”
“Taste it yourself then speak.”
“I am not the one who’s sick, you are” You muse, cleaning the cap and fastening the lid. He mutters an incoherent curse under his breath and you stand up. Straightening the duvet, you beckon him to lay down.
Something he does without any protest. However, his eyes flickers to the door for a brief second and now only, he is met with the yellowish eyes of a feline.
He raises an eyebrow, “What do you want?”
Kuro passes him a languid stare, his whiskers tremor once almost like its scowling. Only serving for the former’s vexation, the man waves him off without a thought. A low squeal is erupted from him and he is on the verge of pouncing of him when step in.
Picking up the cat, you bring it up to your face, “See Kuro, your papa is sick. So no trespassing here for a week.”
He blinks and answers you as though he understands what you mean.
You’re pretty sure he will try to barge in the second you leave but hey! What’s the problem to hold a little hope? Setting the cat down, you usher him out. Turning towards your boyfriend, you shoot him a heads up. One which he returns with a dismissive gesture.
“Get some rest in the meantime. I will be in the living room, just call if you need something.”
The lights dim out, curtain pulled over – creating the perfect atmosphere for an hour or more nap. Chirping of birds and the revving engines of cars from outside fades into background as comfort envelopes Sukuna amidst the sheets.
Despite it all, hollowness unfurls into his being.
The notion of silence returning again while he the room cloaks itself in darkness strikes an anonymous melancholy though his chest. A garter wraps around his neck, tightening with each passing second. And just like that the calm veneer crumbles into dust.
He pries an eye open and although the blackened room vanishes everything, its difficult to amiss your retreating figure. The haze increases, mouth sealed shut – he can’t speak. So, he extends an arm.
Wait-
The door closes shut.
.
He is walking through a mirage.
Surely, he has strolled through this area before. Once. Twice. Thrice. This is the fourth instance he is met with the same beige tinted cottages with scarlet thatched roofs.
He walks through the secluded lane across them.
Where is he going? He doesn’t know that. Just he is walking all alone. On his own. Just cause he has to.
Sky obscured with thick clouds, every once in a while does the thunder cracks. Lightening over the whole region. Sound so prominent, so daunting that it shakes the whole neighbourhood. For reasons, Sukuna finds an undulating spark tightening over his frame as every step forward becomes a struggle on its own. Down pouring heavily, the droplets causes his clothes to stick to his skin. Dripping down his ink stained countenance, clouding his vision. Breaths filled with raggedness, he wipes the moisture off- it isn’t removed.
He tries again and again and again.
Doesn’t work.
Nothing works.
How can anything ever work when-
Only a singular step he has taken and its like he is pushed off from a building.
Falling down, he doesn’t know what awaits him.
However, when he returns to his feet, the whole scenery has changed.
Instead of the murky countryside stretching with grasslands till the horizon, he is met with the picturesque view of a beach. Sparkling waves rises with all its glory, flaunting its sheer power before crashing on the sandy soil. Seagulls fly over the water bodies, their voice being a distinct reminder of this serenity. Murmurs of human life accompanied by distant tune from seaside eateries greet him. The gentle wisp of the sea breeze ruffles his hair, wafting sand into his eyes and nostrils; he doesn’t flinch.
When he looks around, everyone vanishes.
From the footprints on the soil to the sea castles to all the tourists. No one’s here.
The seclusion stalls on him only a second later. That’s when he realizes, everything’s truly gone.
The scorching sun blazes in fury, momentarily blinding him. Humidity persists in the air, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. The waves crash again and he walks towards it. For some unknown reason-this feels right.
What’s the point of continuing anymore?
The sand prickles under his feet as he staggers towards the water. Sky high waves flicker and dance, crashing onto him and even though the musky salt should cause him to recoil, the intensity should strike some agony – he feels nothing.
Paving his way through the water until the very liquid surrounds him. All of this, just seems so empty.
“Sukuna,”
As if broken out from a trance by the mere call of his name, he turns.
Once again the vast expanse of the world does everything shift.
“You’re holding yourself well,” Jin remarks, wiping some specks of soap water from a plate. “Better than I expected you to.”
Sukuna’s eyes drift to take in the surroundings; standing across the kitchen counter of his apartment. His brother indulges in cleaning some utensils, a forlorn lilt of his lips prompts the former to raise an eyebrow. The room remains quiet only broken by the usual cling of the cutlery. From his periphery, he could see his nephew crouched down before Kuro, the boy ruffles the feline’s hair and now the cat should retaliate. Until it doesn’t.
“Taking care of Kuro as well,” Jin stares down at the duo. “Give yourself some credit y’know.”
Wait- since when did his brother know about the cat? And since when did Yuji turn to silent?
Gazing out the window- his eyes widen.
When did his neighbourhood change so much?
Without any explanation, Sukuna marches out of the apartment.
Greeted by a hoard of stones situated all over the grassland. Each of different shapes, sizes and perhaps… something just might be written on it. He doesn’t wait to read. Why should he doesn’t have his reading glasses with him?
Feet squashing the lifeless grasses, the leaves don’t crunch under his boots. His steps are steady, turning round a corner or more whenever he so pleases. Maybe this is the way out of the labyrinth of stones.
However, he halts before a particular stone.
For reasons unknown, Sukuna feels life slipping out of his fingers.
.
Sukuna wakes up with a jolt.
Eyes wide open, he breaths in through his mouth. Fingers trembling with the surge of adrenaline as his shoulders rise and fall in a cadence. Think coat of sweat mars his whole body, vest clinging to him like a second skin and the duvets covering his form renders him panting fit.
What was that? The beach? His brother? Those stones?
What- what was happening?
The eerie maze where he walked? Ran?
Wait- what occurred?
The ceiling lights blinds him with all the intensity, he shuts his eyelids, grunting out like a wounded animal. Some external voice rings out, too loud, too disturbing that he’s forced to press his palm over his ears. Touches guide his skin from his cheek to shoulders and a burst of repulsion compels him to push the person away.
Who the hell was it to hold him like that?
He’s got a girlfriend for fuck’s sake. Get the hell away from him.
However, instead of leaving him alone they are inching closer. He is met with the same touch again but the noise starts to clear as well.
“…Just a dream, you’re fine...”
Albeit begrudgingly, Sukuna removes his hand from his ears.
“…You’re home, calm down…”
It’s a gamble but he manages to reopen his eyes.
“Are you ok? What happened?”
Sukuna blinks, stupefied for the second.
There you are, standing before him while cupping his face in your little palms. Thumb running circles over the tattoos on his face, irises pooling with sheer concern, your eyes are solely focused on a subject. That subject being him.
He looks around.
Notably, nothing has changed. He is still in his bedroom, sitting on the bed with the comforter pooled around his hips. From the traces of light pouring from the ajar window, he can make out how the light fades to dark as twilight tints the skies in hues of violet and blue.
“Hey,” You tap his cheek, urging him to face you, “Why aren’t you speaking?”
He only responds with long stare.
“Sore throat? Should I bring honiitus again?”
“Don’t even think about it, woman.” He barks, lips curling down in utter disgust as the very prominent taste of the damn syrup lingers in the back of his mouth.
Without making a fuss about his sudden outburst, you place your backhand over his forehead. “Mhm… you don’t seem to have fever.” You nod, “No ibuprofen, then.”
“Fucking finally.”
“Don’t celebrate too early,” You snort, a mirthful smile creeping onto you, “Tamiflu after lunch, remember?”
“Well genius, I didn’t have lunch.”
You snap your fingers, “I know, and there it is,” You point to a tray stacked with a lidded container resting on top of the nightstand.
He stares at it for a second too long, “What’s that?”
“Boiled vegetables and… no–” You flick your index finger in the air, a clear negative sign. “No more tantrums, you’ll shut up and eat.”
“As if,” He scoffs, twisting his body away from the utensil, he faces the wall as if the blank canvas seems more interesting than the food you cooked.
You sigh, sitting down on the limited space provided for you on the bed across him, “Just because I call you baby doesn’t mean you have to act like one.”
“I am not enacting– no, just– fuck,” He curses under his breath, fumbling with the words too many times before he reaches a conclusion. “I am not acting like a god damn child.”
“Sure.” His eyes narrows down while he regards you. You stretch your arms, the joints cracking under the evident tension, “I added a few pieces of meat for taste, just so you know.”
He raises an eyebrow, retorts accumulating in his mouth. Just a second away from being unleashed before his gaze lands on a bowl and a pack of damp towels. “What happened with that?”
“What?”
“That.”
You glance at the way he points, taking a moment to contemplate before you answer, “I called Dr. Shinzo again, he said applying cold water towels will help with the fever so…”
Sukuna doesn’t know why, but he stills. “You were doing that all this time?”
“Yeah?”
“Why?”
You tilt your head, “Maybe cause you need it?” He blinks and you find your patience wearing thin. Dismissing the confusion clouding his visage, you reach for the tray and pick it up. The clattering of the utensils due to your unstable balance rings through the whole room. “See, this won’t be that bad. Besides, it’s only for a few days, you can manage, right?”
He doesn’t answer.
“Aw c’mon, now,” You unfasten the lid, dipping the spoon. “I will feed you as compensation. How does that sound?”
He still doesn’t answer but with the way he doesn’t protest your offer, he hopes to let you know his affirmation.
.
Sukuna refuses to let you know that the boiled vegetable soup isn’t as bad as he thought.
.
Two days later
.
Credits to his above average immunity or whatsever but Sukuna is almost back to complete health in just a span of few days.
Finally.
Done he is with all the ibuprofen and every other shit he has to endure.
Never again.
As a ritual, only does the lunchtime ends with the empty hot pot of boiled vegetables being lidded back does Sukuna notice the uncharacteristic clattering of the utensils as you try to hold them in place.
“Give me that.”
Before you can reply, the tray is already being grabbed by your boyfriend as he sets it down on the nightstand.
“That needs to be in the kitchen.”
Instead of gracing you with a proper answer, you are met with his crimson hues filled with something you can’t quite put a finger on. He urges you to sit with him and you comply. Feeling the need to for some reason.
“What?” You ask. His eyes darts down, following his gaze, confusion clouds your head for he is looking at your hands. “Huh?”
No sooner does the word leave your mouth than he grasps both of your hands on his own. You gasp yet don’t try to pull away.
Sukuna traces his thumb over the ridge of your knuckles to the tips of your nails. Turning them around, he draws every single contour lines on your palm as if he’s etching them onto his memory. It’s not the first time, he is holding your hand but it’s the first time he is noticing all the details. Like how a tiny callous has formed beside the edge of your thumb or how the tiny scar runs down the side of your ring finger.
His grasp tightens over yours, nothing to make it hurt. He would never.
He brings them up, pressing his lips over each and every, societally deemed, imperfection. At last, he turns to your backhand. This time, keeping his gaze stilled on you, he kisses your knuckles.
Perhaps, he’d have kissed you too but he doesn’t want the infection to pass.
Perhaps, you’ll know someday that… he is grateful.
Taglist: @comeonatmebruh @sweetpo1son @malazloje @tadabzzzbee @o-ikawaii
#magic!writes#sukuna ryomen#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna ryomen x you#ryomen sukuna#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x you#sukuna fluff#ryomen sukuna fluff#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#sukuna x reader#sukuna#sukuna x you#jjk#ryomen#ryomen x you
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VOICEMAILS AND DIAL TONES - yuuta okkotsu.
✩ — about. “back then, you didn’t have words to describe the way that he made you feel. maybe, you were a little too young to understand.” there are rules to a friendship that’s lasted as long as yours and yuuta’s has. the first being that you tell each other everything. the second, try not to fall in love. all you know, is that you’ve failed at both, and now your best friend is half way across the world without any idea as to how much you truly love him. is that something you can say over text or voicemail? ( 8.7K )
✩ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, with a happy ending - video banner! characters are in their 20s. coffee-shop!au, childhood friends to lovers, forbidden romance, long-distance, misunderstandings, miscommunication, situationships, arguments, hospitalisation mentions, death mentions (non-major characters), cucking, somnophilia, praise, fingering (f!receiving), oral sex (f!receiving), phone sex-ish, clothed sex, unprotected sex, overstimulation, creampies, fem!reader.
✩ — things to note. hi everyone!! jumping on the yuuta hype and dropping this fic i wrote as a commission last year!! it's so interesting to see how much my writing has changed, but i remember having fun when writng this. either who!! i hope you all enjoy <3 - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹
absence makes the heart grow fonder — at least that’s what they tell you so that the feeling of missing someone hurts a tiny little bit less.
you’ve always wondered if that were true. if willingly putting space between yourself and the person you loved truly helped soothe the soreness as if it were medication for the body’s aches and pains. perhaps the theory could best be applied to your friendship with yuuta okkotsu.
he’s been your best friend for as long as you can remember — from the moment he moved in next door, his bambi eyes were big and brown, safe and inviting…who were you to keep hiding behind your mothers leg and deny him an invitation to play on the swing set his parents had put up for him in the garden just over the fence? yuuta was the sweetest boy to date, he was always polite with your parents and asked their permission before taking you into the depths of his cardboard fort in the front yard.
he would walk home with you from pre-k, your chubby little fingers tightly intertwined and the matching charms on your backpacks swinging about the place jingling with every step you took towards home. when you got to middle school and kids were meaner, yuuta stood by your side while you were teased for being quieter than most. he defended you, his shy, patient best friend.
okkotsu still walked you home, his pinky finger hooked over yours — greeted your mother with that same shy, yet charming tight lipped smile and offered to help her with cooking dinner with that same airy voice of his. your mother would reward you both with a kiss to the forehead and a plate of warm walnut and chocolate chip cookies and your pinkies — still linked underneath the table.
you were always linked. it’s always been yuuta and you. back then, you didn’t have words to describe the way that he made you feel. maybe, you were a little too young to understand the butterflies in your tummy and the blistering temperature to the back of your neck and your ears — maybe too naive to understand a metaphorical doctor’s diagnosis of a case of early on-set puppy-love. knowing back then would’ve explained why you wrote yuuta’s name on a heart alongside your own or why you squirmed every time you touched.
there was only one explanation. you liked yuuta, loved him.
you wished that you’d known what that feeling was…because it's soon ripped from your grip and your whole world changes when rika orimoto enters your lives. she was pretty, had a beauty mark smeared daintily across her cheek and gentle eyes that made you feel safe. she was pretty and yuuta thought that too — inside and out. that’s why they became fast highschool sweethearts and why you were left in the dust.
rika easily made a mess of him, tearing yuuta into a million tiny pieces that only she could put back together. she asks him out on white-day, okkotsu a bumbling mess by the lockers in between gym class and economics as he clutches her neatly written love letter — hearts over the I’s and T’s crossed ever so cutely. she had done to yuuta what he’d been doing to you all of your lives and you’d hardly seen her talk to him around school until that day.
much to your dismay, they date throughout the rest of highschool and it nearly kills you, having someone that you were once so close to fade-away into near nothingness with growing distance. life where yuuta has a girlfriend ( that isn’t you ) drains the happiness that you got from being around your childhood best friend. it’s selfish, you know, to have wanted to keep him all to yourself. to have him want you instead of her.
they make plans for after school, babies with names that start with the same letters as theirs and a wedding that’ll be small and flowery and whatever rika wants because yuuta okkotsu would give the girl he loves the entire world. you so badly want to be her. that person who is the centre of his universe. it should be you, it should have always been you — making plans with yuuta and imagining the perfect ring, the one that he would give you in the front yard of his childhood home. it should be your life with him, one that you’d dreamt up with him…and the sick thing is, you can’t have him — because you’re best friends and you’d be risking it all in the name of childish love.
rika, dies just days shy of your highschool graduation and it changes your best friend. a tragic car accident violently takes her life and okkotsu along with it. he’s a shell of the person he used to be, void of his dazzling smile and the comforting warmth that was unavoidable if you spent even just a minute with him. yuuta used to be like sun rays on a sunday morning but after the incident, he felt like blizzards on a dark november's eve. he lost his love, and you were starting to lose him even more than before.
his first love is memorialised at the graduation ceremony and while everyone sends her their thoughts and prayers — you feel sick to your stomach, knowing that for a brief second you’d felt relieved that your competition was gone. loving him was forbidden, he’d just lost his person and so despite your guilt you had to stick it out. be there for him. be there for your friend above all else and hold him up so that he didn’t sink in the deep water of his own grief. you’d save him, at all costs, you’d stop him before he drowned.
things start to look up when the pair of you head to college — you both get into the same school and find the cutest little off-campus apartment to share. it feels like a home away from home to you both, since your nights before semester begins are spent attempting to master your mother’s famous cookies while practising how to introduce yourselves since you’re both nervous as hell for this new beginning. everything feels like it was when you were both children and didn’t have a single thing to worry about — except now there’s crippling student debt and a four year workload ahead of you…but you’re both excited, together again and it seems like the distance between you has shrunk just a little.
then your love life takes a turn for the worst ( yet again ) and yuuta finds himself running around town with a new crew of friends that he met in a club run by one of your elective professors, satoru gojo. they stay out later than you’re used to and your best friend comes home smelling different too, of strong perfumes and cigarette butts even though you know he doesn’t smoke. as it turns out, there’s another girl.
maki zenin.
you don’t like her, and to be fair, she doesn’t like you either. so you keep your distance once more, keep your head down when maki does her faux walk of shame out of your best friend’s room — her thighs and her neck covered in bite marks and scratches, his shirt slipped over her body to cover the rest of her decency. he made her breakfast with your food and tea in your designated mug. it hurts to hear her mewl the sweet syllables of his name late at night while you’re stuck with the soundtrack to your own sobs.
it should be like this, distant — far apart because you care about okkotsu and you love him, so it’d be better to avoid it all rather than get him hurt.
your phone ringing in the distance gently lulls you from your reminiscent thoughts and you scramble to pick it up before you end up with a missed call.
yuuta’s contact flashes across your screen, framed by light and making him look like an angel. it rings and rings, and you know that you should let it go to voicemail. let the space between you grow so you can protect what’s left of his soul.
but you were never strong when it came to him.
and you pick up before he can listen to another second of dial tones.
voicemail #1 - “hey yuuta, i hope you’re good, you’ll never guess who stopped by the cafe today— professor satoru! i haven’t seen him since your graduation! anyways, are you still coming over for dinner tonight? i miss you!”
this isn’t like him.
even after all these years, from pre-k to college — yuuta okkotsu has never missed one of your calls. after graduating you'd made a promise to one another, to keep contact no matter where life took you, a promise of his own volition. you’d have dinner with each other at least once a week just like when you were kids and catch up on your not-so crazy adventures into adulthood.
you kept up your end of the bargain as your way of keeping okkotsu afloat — to ground him. he’d seen and been through enough hurt to last him a lifetime and if he had to use you as a crutch for comfort, despite your raging feelings for him, then so be it. so you never missed a call, always checked in and made him something nostalgic and tied to the memories of afternoons where your mother would fill you up with her wondrous baked goods or heartwarming soups.
but still, this isn’t like yuuta to not pick up when you call.
to feel…more distant than usual and of his own accord.
panic sets in while you listen to the third dial tone, trying to contact him again. taking a deep breath, you pace around the fridge-freezer in the back of your bakery — one that you’d set up shortly after graduating from your business degree. there had to be some explanation for your best friend’s absence. perhaps traffic? maybe he was on the subway catching a ride over? or maybe he just needed space. he’d been going through a lot recently. yuuta didn’t get a job straight out of college and he broke things off with maki shortly after — they wanted different things and had different aspirations.
even still, with the free time left on his hands, there was too much room for him to think about his losses and his loves…it made you worry for him, it made you panic and chew on your nails just like this. “c’mon yu,” you whisper to yourself, the shaky syllables of your words bouncing off the metal house for your ingredients, muffled by paper bags of powdered sugar and organic flours. “where are you?”
you can barely hear the automated message telling you to leave a voicemail for your friend over the bustling of your afternoon service. if yuuta hadn’t been off the grid, he’d be here helping you with the customers that know him all too well, the old ladies that pinch his cheeks and the younger ones that twirl their hair in an attempt to flirt over miniature cherry bakewell tarts. except he’s nowhere to be found, and you’re nauseous, worried sick about where he could be and what he could be up to.
you try his cell one more time in an attempt to grab at his attention. there's something weird about today...as if he’s avoiding you, hiding. yuuta always picks up and you always pick up for him, it’s an unspoken rule.
when you’re met with the dial tones again, you hang up — slumped and distraught. there’s hungry customers to feed and you’re overly friendly college professor waiting on a fresh box of sweets you’d used as an excuse to escape to the back of your shop. yuuta can wait for another call from you.
but you’re not sure if your heart can wait for one back from him.
voicemail #2 - “it’s yuuta, we need to talk.”
oddly enough, silence is comforting to you. it reminds you of your best friend, the nights you’d spend coupled up in your dorm with your fingers running through his silken midnight hair, his head in your lap and the both of you shrouded in darkness. more often than not, you could tell how one another’s days went just by body language and when shoulders were slumped and eyes were droopy — yourself and yuuta would curl up together and just…take in the quiet.
be close to one another.
so, you bask in the tranquillity of your quaint little cafe as you clear up after a day's work. you sweep floors, wipe tables clean and arrange the tables and chairs with perfect precision. the only sound that accompanies you is the clink of silverware and porcelain plates as you wash the dishes. it’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop and the slightest noise is enough to make you jump — just like your phone that vibrates deep within your back pocket, startling you as you scramble to dry your hands so you can see if it’s him who’s been trying to get in touch with you.
it’s embarrassing how quick you are to smile when you see a few missed calls and a voice message from yuuta. though you’ve never quite heard the tune of seriousness that plays in his voice before, your heart won’t stop racing at the mere sound of him speaking. your mind wonders…what could be so urgent that he’d need a ‘talk’?’
maybe it was a thank you…for always being beside him or maybe he even liked you. perhaps okkotsu had finally come to his senses and realised how much he’d always needed you…how much he loved you.. the racing thoughts in your brain hopefully jump towards a confession from your best friend and you find yourself getting giddy at its prospect. you practically skip, hop and jump to the back of your cafe, switching out your flour stained clothes for one of the spare and cleaner shirts you keep in the back — you touch up your makeup too, brighten the dark circles under your eyes and blot your worry lines with care.
you even manage to heat up a few of yuuta’s favourite pastries to serve up by candlelight — rehearsing your own words of confession as if they haven’t been looming around in your head for years.
the bell to your quaint little cafe chimes with his arrival, a rush of cool, late night air tangling with the temperate atmosphere as you lay your finishing touches on the meal you’d prepared for you both. when you look up, yuuta’s eyes have settled on you — warm and inviting as usual, but bright with a light that had been missing from them since you were young. you’ve missed it, the subtle spark that brings life to the coffee brown oasis in his eyes.
he remains as handsome as ever, taller than you by however many heads — limbs long, arms slightly muscular and waist slender, though his build is more like a dancer’s. yuuta okkotsu grew up to be a fine man and you’d be a fool to have not noticed. he crosses the room in short strides, rushing to take you into his arms and hold you close and squeeze you to his chest. yuuta smells like cookies, you note, hardly paying attention while his lips softly brush over your hairline in a sweet kiss.
“hi,” he whispers, voice smooth like melted chocolate dripping through your ears. “i’ve missed you.”
you only hope that he can’t hear your racing heartbeat, it’s speed picking up as you decide that this is your moment. the moment. “i’ve missed you too,” you mumble back, toying with a loose string on the cream cashmere the dark brunette is wearing. “yuuta…i have to tell you something—“
“i-i have something important to tell you,” he breathes out at the same time as you do, almost shy as you both sway in the centre of the room and enjoy one another’s embrace.
the both of you share a laugh that’s light and airy before you drag him over to a table and set of chairs, forcing him to sit and to eat the baked goods you’d set out for him. “you first, yuu,” it makes you happy to see him tuck in, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “you owe me a story after disappearing on me today.”
okkotsu nods in agreement, his cheeks adorably full of food and pastry flaked across his milky skin. “‘m sorry, i was sortin’ something out la’sht minute.”
“yeah?”
“y-yeah! i’m moving,” yuuta drops the bomb like it’s nothing. “abroad. for a job! professor gojo set me up and it’s s-supposed to help build my confidence and stuff—“
your world falls apart in an instant, sucking away the oxygen in your lungs until you feel like your lungs are failing. yuuta is leaving you and this time it’s for real.
confessing to him now wouldn't mean shit, you’d only be holding him back. your face crumples faster than you can control at the thought and after years of knowing you— okkotsu instantly picks up your change in mood.
“what’s wrong?” he says your name and even that hurts to hear.
“n-nothin’ yuu, i’m happy for you, really.” comes your broken voice over the quiet, you fake it until you make it.
“really? you don’t look like it.”
running a hand over your tired face, you force a smile. “really. especially if you think this is what’s best for you.”
“it is!” yuuta nearly snaps, controlling himself— stopping himself from yelling at you and tearing your friendship apart before he’s gone. “i need this, need’a be my own person. after college, after highschool i didn’t have time for any of that! i need this.”
needs it more than he needs you.
“okay.” you say simply, blankly.
“okay.” he says back.
the debate doesn’t last that much longer after that — the room fills with silence as you grieve your faltering friendship. whatever confession you had planned, now forgotten.
voicemail #3 - “yuuta! i wasn’t sure how long your flight was but please call me when you land! you’re gonna do great at your new job.”
yuuta doesn’t call after he lands, in fact two entire days pass before you actually hear from him. after the argument, you’d try to stay on good terms as though not to lose him for good — helping him pack and sort out his currencies, buying him language books since you knew he would struggle with the new dialect.
you figure it’s because he’s unpacking and not because he doesn’t want anything to do with you — and while you make some late night tea, you find that it’s better to imagine him alone in a new foreign country, picture his pretty pink lips struggling to form the vowels of the new language too, envision how he’ll tan under the blistering hot heat and how excited he’ll be to try new things.
its humiliating how easily he can preoccupy your thoughts from thousands of miles away and makes your heart race so fast that it might burst through the bones and flesh of your chest. he occupies your every thought like a fungus crawling across your brain that’s only disrupted by the sound of your phone ringing loudly — making you drop your tea and jump up to answer.
“hey,” the way yuuta says your name sends tingles down your spine — filtering out any pain you feel from burning your hand. he looks good too, dark hair flopping over his eyes, voice gravelly with sleep as if he’s just woken up and you’re the first thing on his mind. “i got your message, s-sorry for not calling i’ve been—“
you cut him off, eager to speak and draw the call out for as long as possible because you missed him. “busy? a guy like you must be extremely popular on the other side of the world.” you’re chipper in an attempt to cover how flustered you are and to cheer your best friend up when you notice how nervous he looks.
“not exactly… i’m nervous. e-everything seems so big ‘nd scary without you here…”
without you.
you shake your head over the grainy FaceTime call. “you’ve always done fine without me, you’ll do even better without having to cover for my shyness!” he laughs at that, the sound like a sweet song to soothe your aching heart. “you got this yuuta.”
your best friend gives you a sleepy smile, one that melts you like a knob of butter on a hot stove and has your knees knocking. “you’re the best, you know that? you always know what to say.”
the static crackles between you and your heart leaps into your throat.
“i’m always here for you, yuuta.”
“and i’m glad for that,” he yawns. “i love you.”
you have to remind yourself that what your best friend says is strictly platonic but you almost selfishly repeat the words back to yuuta until you notice he’s fallen back asleep.
ending the call, you clutch your phone and burned hand to your chest.
“i love you too.”
voicemail #4 - “hey sorry i missed your call, time zones can be crazy! work has been catching up with me and, well, i made a new friend!”
for the first week, you and yuuta text everyday while he’s away. you do your duty and act as his crutch like you always have— keeping him company while he works, eats and commutes all on his own. you feel bad that you lap up the attention he gives you over the phone through his loneliness. you could be compared to a desperately hungry stray animal at the way you drink up every little interaction you have. giving pieces of yourself away to keep your best friend happy.
but as time goes on, okkotsu seems less and less worried about his job — easily slipping into the language here and there, no longer relying on you to stand on his own two feet. the frequency of your communication dwindles to the point where you really feel like you’re oceans apart.
even yuuta notices the change within himself — the confidence that filters through him when he says yes to the pretty girl who works in the cubicle next to him when she asks him to tag along for drinks with the rest of the office one night which soon becomes a regular thing. he knows that he speaks less with you and that your texts are barely there but he’s sure you won’t mind the distance. you’re a busy girl, you run a cafe, a few days of not talking wouldn’t do any harm.
“oooh, she’s pretty. who is that?”
kasumi miwa is the one to pull yuuta out from the fog of his thoughts. the brunette looks up from his phone, your face flashing across it’s lock screen as the background. a photo where you have your arms wrapped around him from behind and your smile is as bright as the sunshine. miwa is a pretty girl, different from you. her voice is smoother and eloquent where yours is charming and sweet — she doesn’t remind him of home, or smell like the warmth of a chocolate chip cookie…but she is pretty. her presence is enough to make him shy.
he’s caught her looking a few times, her touch lingering whenever miwa passed him paperwork and right now; her cheeks are tinged pink probably from the alcohol the office is drinking inside where yuuta had come out for some fresh air.
okkotsu clicks his phone shut and stands up at full height to face his blue-haired coworker. “i… i haven’t spoken to her in a while. i miss her.” he says wistfully as he gives your name
“well, if i were dating a girl that pretty, i would miss them too.”
“o-oh! we’re not together! she’s my best friend!”
the woman beside yuuta cocks her head, a satisfied grin spreading across the slope of her lips. “you should call her — i’ll be waiting inside.”
he follows her eyes as she walks off, along with the whiff of her chanel perfume, before his gaze lands on his phone — he calls your phone.
you answer after the second ring, though don’t speak straight away, letting the silence wear the both of you thin. “how’ve you been?” you say quietly, lacking the chipperness to your tone that you usually have whenever the two of you ring each other up. there’s no hello, no warmth, you’re cold.
but yuuta doesn’t ask — he’d like to think he knows you well enough not to. he thinks that you’re fine, probably tired from work and it’s late over there too. if he cared to catch up with you, he’d have been more considerate of that.
“good!” the brunette chirps in order to keep the mood light, leaning over a nearby railing. i miss you. yuuta wants to add, but the words feel like cotton in his mouth, sticking unpleasantly to every surface and for some reason they don’t feel right to say— feel foreign. “work’s been good. i think i’m getting the hang of things around here. my co-workers are great, i get this amazing view every morning a-and—“
“and?”
“i met someone! i think! i wanna get to know her more but she’s been great to me so far…you’d like her!”
hearts don’t make a sound when they break, but if they did— you’re sure that yuuta would have been able to hear yours even from halfway across the globe. over his own ramblings he can hardly make out the shatter of your vital organ as it falls to pieces, cracks into tiny shards with jagged edges that could make you bleed if you tried to put it back together…because your best friend having met someone means he’s moving on. leaving you behind. and he’s too tone deaf to notice.
through the static of a phone call, okkotsu misses the crumple of your face and the way your throat bobs as you swallow back salty tears and two decades worth of unrequited love. you’re devastated and he can’t even tell, barely noticing the way you rush off the phone while he’s halfway through a sentence.
his brows furrow when he realises you’ve hung up.
“i take it that didn’t go well?” kasumi questions when yuuta re-renters the bar, her face sympathetic but voice elevated with smugness.
he shakes his head once. “no, but it’s okay. she’s been busy.”
he excuses you but kasumi doesn’t let up, pushing for more of yuuta — breaking him out from his shell, stealing and keeping the pearl of his heart for her taking. “don’t be too sad yuuta, you have me and your new friends, we’ll keep you company instead.”
there’s a hidden meaning behind her cherry picked words. she’ll keep him company — and for once, yuuta doesn’t feel guilty for trying to break away from you.
voicemail #5 - “what happened between us yuuta? you used to tell me everything and now you’ve got a girlfriend? i didn’t even find out through you!”
there’s an unspoken rule to a friendship that’s lasted as long as yours and yuuta’s – you’re supposed to tell each other everything. there’s not been a secret between you in all the years you’ve known each other except for minor white lies that couldn’t amount to major forms of harm. he might have told you that your hair looked fine on days where you’d barely any time to tend to it and you might have told him that he hadn’t been awkward presenting in front of your entire college class… but those were worthless lies. strings of words tied together that didn’t mean anything, that didn’t have any intent to harm.
there were no secrets, no major ones.
until now.
“he’s got a girlfriend, yanno…”
the news is shared with you casually from over the counter one day by your irritating white-haired ex-professor who makes a habit of annoying his old students. he comes in for sweets often and the daifuku you make is his favourite – you offer him extra in exchange for updates on the classmates you used to share since he’s nosey like that.
with every visit to your little cafe, gojo filled you in on everything yuuta had been up to in the blurred weeks and months since you’d last spoken – including his relationship status. “she’s pretty too, long hair. s’blue which is an odd colour, but she’s been good to him, ‘pparently. boosted his confidence.”’ the man cocks his head, watching in real-time as your movements in packing up his order slow down.
your throat bobs whilst you swallow your fading pride in front of your teacher, forcing down a wave of tears. it doesn’t matter how many times yuuta gets over you, moves on from you, finds someone to love other than you… it still hurts. it’ll always hurt knowing that he can fill the other half of his heart with someone that isn't you, while your own stays void and empty.
as always, satoru gojo sees right through your resolve as you total up his order – again forgoing charging him extra for the little tid bit of gossip he’d given you. there’s a shell of someone he doesn’t recognise in place of the girl he used to teach – the one who was once full of life and eager to learn, get out into the world and achieve your dreams. yuuta okkotsu had chipped away at you, the years you’d spent protecting his feelings had caused you to drown in your own.
and gojo could see that, he knew that. he’d been through it before.
he only wishes he had better words of comfort for you.
“you love him, don’t you?” he asks you quietly as you ring him up but you answer with his total in yen instead – sniffling as you do. professor gojo takes his brown paper bag, full of enough sugar to make the heart stop – to kill a person, but even that’s a better death than the heartache you’re going through now. you sniff and he offers you a sad smile that doesn’t quite reach the sapphire eyes behind his shades. “better yet, don’t answer that. i don’t need anymore tears in my daifuku.”
voicemail #6 - “oh fuck yuuji, right there…” “here baby? oh you’re so cute, fuck ‘m gonna—!” “oh… yuuji!”
( incoming voicemail from - yuuta: “hey, call me back? who’s yuuji? are you okay?” )
yuuta knows that he shouldn’t have kept listening – he should have deleted the voicemail as soon as he caught onto what was happening. it didn’t take a genius to know what was going on, the sounds of skin slapping on skin, your voice wavering with the tune of lust even over the static crackle of the voicemail you’d left.
he wishes that he’d never heard you moan out like that for someone else, that he wasn’t picturing the faces you’d make underneath the body of another man…but he couldn’t help it. the more he listened, the angrier he felt, the more betrayal flooded his veins and clouded his usually clear judgement. the brunette had no right to be this mad at you, he was supposed to be happy with miwa, supposed to be letting you move on just like he had done from you.
and yet, like a necrotizing parasite – jealousy feasts at the back of okkotsu’s mind. it disrupts his work, distracts him from his girlfriend and fills his mind with flashing images of you being fucked five ways by another man. one that isn’t him. yuuji. who even is yuuji? how did you meet him? were you dating him? you hadn’t talked in so long so the guy had barely come up in conversation. you were best friends that used to tell each other everything and now he felt like you were fucking someone new behind his back. yuuta knew nothing of what that stranger meant to you, he had no idea that yuuji itadori was just some college boy you’d brought home one drunken night – to act as a salve for the burns your childhood best friend had left on you.
it's a temporary fix, yuuji’s tongue laps at your wounds – pleasures you with teeth and tongue until your head is light and you’re almost too dizzy to think properly. in the moment, he felt good, he took care of you…but he wasn’t who you wanted. he wasn’t yuuta.
was it bad that you basked in the jealous rage and attention the brunette had bathed you in? drowning you in a barrage of text messages the morning after you’d slept with itadori, when yuuta finally had the chance to listen to the voicemail you’d left by accident. it was the most you’d gotten out of him in the months you’d been separated.
yuuta - 7:16AM: hey…did you mean to send that? call me when you’re up.
yuuta - 7:45AM: i don’t think i was supposed to hear that…
yuuta - 8:34AM: who’s yuuji?
yuuta - 8:36AM: are you seeing someone? call me please.
yuuta - 8:57AM: pick up the phone.
yuuta - 9:21AM: it’s not funny anymore. i’m worried. pick up.
you answer your phone around noon, having given yourself the space to think over cooking a hang-over breakfast for yuuji. the sounds of spitting oil underneath frying eggs had provided the soundtrack to your thoughts – helped you pick and choose the words you would say to yuuta before your companion slips out of your apartment and you tell him to grab a pastry from your cafe downstairs on his way out. a little thank you for the night you’d shared.
“what the hell was that?” is the first thing yuuta snarls down the line once your call connects.
you shift your phone in your grasp, as if his seething tone has scorched the palm of your hand. “are we past greetings or somethin’, yuu?” you fail to admit that it hurts you, starting the call without his tender and caring ‘hello’, you feel like an enemy on the battlefield to okkotsu, rather than his friend.
“i think we are well past that, especially with the kind of voice messages you’ve been leaving me.” he says it like he’s disgusted with you, when he really just misses you. craves you. he’s angry at himself and for letting you slip between his fingers into the grasp of another man. not at you. never at you. but even cell phone lines connecting calls from across the globe can’t properly convey the way yuuta feels. “what’s going on with you? why are you acting like this? we haven’t spoken in weeks and you–?”
“why is what i do any of your business anymore, yuuta?” you snap through his flurry of questions, growing heated yourself. “i accidentally left you a voicemail of me fucking someone, that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with me.”
“you’re just… not like this. we don’t speak and all of a sudden…y-you’re different!”
you clutch the phone tighter, swallowing thickly. “and who’s fault is that? let me answer that for you. it’s yours. you’re the one who got a girlfriend and left me in the dust. not the other way around!” you argue, trying to sound stern and steady though yuuta can hear the wobble to your words loud and clear. “you shouldn’t have listened, you should have called. you let the distance become a problem between us.”
he scoffs, an action so unlike your best friend. “we’re not children anymore! you should have talked to me about the distance!”
“i couldn't!” you defend yourself, desperate for the pain in your heart to be heard for once. “you were finally happy again yuuta! that mattered to me—“
“you think i'm happy about hearing my best friend get…defiled over the phone?”
“well you should be! it means I’m not hung up on you anymore, that i’m moving on from being in love with you! leaving you so that you can be happy in your new life!”
the silence from yuuta’s end of the phone is both too loud and too deafening.
“you…loved me?” he whispers, switching back to that same sweet tone he always used when it came to you. “why didn’t you say?”
your stupid little confession, the one you’d been holding back for more than half your life, sips out before you can catch it with the tip of your tongue and you instantly feel terrible for weaponizing your crush on okkotsu against him. at least that’s what it feels like you’ve done. “i never told you…because i’m not selfish, yuuta,” you stutter out, your face hot with oncoming and flustered tears. “i-i'm not a selfish person. i wouldn’t sacrifice our friendship or your happiness, not just because i loved you.”
yuuta says your name, but blood rushes through your ears in embarrassment – way too fast for you to catch it, and you hang up before you can humiliate yourself any further.
before you can hear him say that he loves you too.
voicemail #7 - “open up, i'm coming home. please be here when I’m home.”
the number you have dialled is unavailable, please try again later.
after the slip of your tongue and confession to yuuta— he was met with radio silence. you’d blocked him on every form of social media possible and he couldn’t even blame you. you wanted to be free from him, from that silly and imaginary red string that had kept you tied to his soul for all of these years. it hurt to think when everything reminded you of him, so you buried yourself in your cafe and worked yourself to death because even the sweet relief from life would be better than living without your best friend.
gojo had stopped by and taken you to the hospital twice since you’d worked yourself into exhaustion — tonight was no different, sentenced to bed rest by your ex-professor and the best doctor he could find. he always did look out for his students.
sleeping your sadness away had caused you to miss a barrage of yuuta’s calls — if you’d picked up you’d have known that he was coming home. coming home for you. in the wake of your love confession, okkotsu had realised how much he needed you and how much he loved you. you had never left his side, no matter what yuuta had been through, and now, nothing feels right without you.
so he broke up with his girlfriend, took leave from his job and flew halfway across the world for you — to give his message in person.
it’s near midnight by the time yuuta gets back to japan, the warm yellow of the streetlights illuminating the path right up to your apartment after getting out of the uber. there’s a spare house key, glinting gold, hidden under your cupcake shaped doormat just as yuuta remembers and he uses it to slip inside — dumping his bag and kicking his shoes off at the entryway. his socked feet locate the bedroom with ease, perhaps drawn by your aura and the anticipation of seeing you again.
and there you are, so close yet so far away — your face peaceful and painted with an adorable expression of slumber. okkotsu notes the way your chest slowly rises and falls, the crease between your brow as if you’re having a bad dream. he could fix it… whatever’s plaguing your sleeping mind, he knows that he can, because whenever you touch each other, it’s like your bodies know to relax and that they’re safe.
tiptoeing deeper into the room, the brunette slinks up to the side of your bed and the mattress dips underneath the weight of his knee as he seats himself beside you. you’re so beautiful, so calm. he doesn’t know how he went his whole life without choosing you, choosing other people over you time and time again. “i love you,” yuuta whispers into the dead of the night, brushing a thumb and forefinger over the apple of your cheek — hesitating when you roll into his body heat. “i love you. i’m so sorry.” he says again, while pressing a feather light kiss to that same spot.
his breath hitches when you reach for him this time, grabbing at the man in your sleep.
yuuta kisses you again, but on your forehead. then your other cheek, your chin, your inner wrists and finally — your lips. each brush of his own against you is increasingly feverish, pouring unspoken emotions into them as he quietly utters the words ‘i love you.’ over and over again. he feels like he has something to prove, as if the brunette has to show you how much he cares for you — leaving a trail of sweet smooches between the valley of your breasts from over your night-shirt to between your thighs that spill out of the loose material.
he only hopes that this is enough for you to forgive him, for you to love him back like he does you.
your best friend… or ex best friend really should feel bad about this, teething on the swell of your thighs— his fingertips sinking into their apex to pry you apart for him. you could end up hating him more for this, yuuta’s slick and drool stained tongue rolling over the seam at the crotch of your panties hungrily, softly as if to test the waters. he takes it as a good sign when your face contorts with pleasure even in your sleep and slots his entire mouth against the sweet treasure between your legs— sucking the juices from the fabric of your underwear.
you taste so good and he’s not even got you properly wet yet. yuuta’s next move is to hook two fingers over the garment to pull it aside — revealing your twitching hot cunt to the cool night air in your bedroom. even your scent is divine, enticing just as you’ve always been and the brunette can’t believe he was too blind to see it before. he presses a chase kiss to your clit, feeling it pulse to life against his lips before said kisses become open mouthed and sloppy— tongue diving into the tightness of your little hole, circling it to flick your flavour back into his mouth.
his movements start slow, tenderly testing which spots inside your pretty little cunt make you sigh out contently while you slumber but the wetter you get, the sloppier yuuta becomes — lapping at your sex and your clit in eager movements like a kitten at a bowl of milk. you only stir awake when his fingers travel up to grip onto your ass and tug your pussy onto his face, guiding you up and down on his writhing tongue like he’s fucking you for real.
“y-yuu?” you grumble, still finding your footing in the reality of consciousness. “whas’ h-happenin’… oh my god—!” the questions you have for the mop of hair between your legs, groaning like a starved man into there too, taper into an angelic moan. pretty and airy, like music to yuuta’s ears. once you come to and fully realise what’s going on, your fingers slip into the roots of his hair and your hips buck into his mouth instinctively — even though you should be pissed. even though you should be screaming at him and kicking him off. you can’t help it that this is what you’ve always wanted. that you’ve always wanted him.
“w-what are you doing here?” you manage to ask through a whine, brain fogging up at the way yuuta’s tongue runs laps over your swelling clit.
he pulls off of you with a lewd pop that makes both of you shudder, two of his slender digits easily sliding into you where his tongue once was — guided by spit and slick. “i came home for you. i love you,” your best friend doesn’t have time to formulate proper reasoning, drunk on your saccharine flavour like you’re the finest wine he’s ever had the honour of tasting. “f-fuck, i-i missed you.”
yuuta gives you those big puppy dog eyes as he curls his digits inside of you and hits spots you can't quite reach on your own. you should be talking about your feelings not fucking through them but you’ve missed him so much and need him so bad. both of you groan in unison when he brushes over your g-spot, your hips jumping up and his grinding down into your silky sheets.
“missed you too,” you breathe and yank him up by the hair to meet your lips — making out with him feverishly, swapping the words your mind can’t seem to force you to say, pouring the mixed emotions into him as he finger fucks your tight little hole like his life depends on it.
every movement you make with one another is sloppy and uncoordinated, tongues doused in one another’s saliva— saliva that tastes like you. your moans mingle in the hot and heavy air and you clench down on yuuta’s fingers as they pump in and out of you, his palm slapping against your folds while you leak into the seat of his palm.
“are you close?” yuuta slurs into your mouth so quietly you almost miss it underneath the lewd sound of your pussy. “i want to make you cum, show you how much i love you.”
blood rushes through your ears, heat pin pricking like needles under your skin. “y-yes. p-please yuu…”
his thumb dragging smooth circles over the pulsating bud between your blooming pussy lips is all you need to trip over the edge into your high— the knots in your lower tummy unwinding faster than you can register, waves of your nectar flowing from your cunt onto the sheets below and soiling yuuta’s hand right up to his wrist.
your head tips back into a high pitched squeal, eyes locked away and rolling back while you damn near black out from your orgasm. but your best friend is right there like he should be, sucking love-bites into your neck to ground you. dark tresses of yuuta’s chocolate-like hair tickle at your tingling flesh while he manoeuvres himself between your legs and shifts his pants down enough to let his rock hard cock spring free.
“c-can you take me now?” he pleads more than he asks, brown and warm eyes trembling with need, anticipation. “i don’t think i’ll last long and i need you.”
you feel him press at your entrance, his angry red tip glistening with opaque beads of precum— yuuta softly ruts his hips against you, smearing…claiming you with his own essence while he waits for your consent. “i’ve always needed you, yuuta.” you say breathlessly, giving him a small grin and nod when he looks up from drooling against your neck.
that’s all the go ahead he needs before his thick girth pushes all the way into you at once — weighty and temperate against your ribbed and creamy walls. “‘ohmyfuckinggod,” he whimpers wetly against you. “y-you’re so tight wrapped around me. so perfect i—“
“move, yuuta. fuck me, please,” you remind him, tugging on his air and crossing your ankles at the base of his spine.
“y-yeah okay…g-god you’re so good. so sweet ‘n tight.” with that, he draws his hips back — hesitant at first. brown eyes watch your face for any signs of discomfort and yuuta’s lust driven instincts take the lead when he only notices how blissed out you look. your pretty lips are agasp, forming a pleasure-filled ‘o’ as you mewl and claw at his half-clothed shoulders. “i love you, o-oh god!”
all you can do is whimper in response, fingers drifting up to the nape of yuuta’s neck to tangle in his dark locks— tugging him into you as if it’ll make him hit deeper, churn up your guts and make you see stars. “y-you’re stupid…” you manage to get out, the warmth of your breath glossing his lips as if to taunt your best friend with a kiss.
“i know…” calloused fingers grab at the backs of your thighs with a bruising grip before yuuta pushes your legs towards your shoulders, both of you grunting and whining in unison when you tighten around him at the new angle. gushing sweet juices that paint his stomach and pelvis.
“y-you shouldn’t have left me,” tears start to brim, collecting in your lash line like diamonds before they hit your cheeks.
you’re so beautiful like this, even when you’re crying— when you’re crying because you’re fucked up on his cock, claiming it with your cream as ur clings to his balls and the veins that spital down his length.
yuuta’s red hot tip nudges against the soft and squishy spots along your sensitive walls, keeping his thrusts at a rhythmic and passionate pace to make sure the only thing you feel is heaven on earth. your pussy is hot and warm and heaven-like around him, sucking him in so selfishly and tightening every time yuuta’s strong abs grind against your puffy clit.
“i know,” he sighs dreamily and with an airy voice, licking a stripe from your chin to your cheek as a tear streaks it’s way down it. “won't ever leave you again,” his fingers touch at your face, sinking into the softness of your cheeks as he drags you up to face him. “i’ll never leave you again.”
“never?” you ask, hiccuping.
“never.” he moans.
you see it there, the love glittering amongst the almond flecks in your childhood best friend’s eyes — he means it, he promises it and you can feel it with every roll of yuuta’s hips into you while he pins you to the bed. he makes love to you and says what he needs to through his actions this time. through your tangled mess of sweaty limbs and fluttering lashes you find okkotsu’s hand, linking them together.
the sight of your hands meeting one another brings emotions bubbling to the surface of your skin, hot to yuuta’s touch — it's a symbol that you’ve finally come together after being worlds apart for so long. “you’re finally mine, ‘m never letting you go,” his warm breath coasts across the seam of your lips before he dips into kiss you— tongue gliding over yours as it pushes into the depths of your mouth just as his cock does, brushing up against your g-spot and just kissing your cervix. “you’re always going to be mine.”
“i-i’m yours,” your eyes roll back and yuuta loses his pace, his entire body twitching the closer you both get. sex taints the air, both in sound and scent, your cunt squelching around him with how wet you are and how much he leaks into you. “g-gonna cum, yuu! make me cum, make me fucking cum.” you slur out, anchoring the man down to you with your arms around his neck until yuuta’s forehead is pressed against yours. sweaty locks of his hair and all.
yuuta’s body collapses against you and his thrusts switch to sensual grinds that never let up on your spongey g-spot. “f-fuck me, b-baby. ‘m cummin’,” he croons, panting against your lips and with one, two, three more pumps you’re squirting all over him— the pressure unwinds in your lower belly and you’re hit with blinding white lights and your nails dig into yuuta’s shoulder to the point where you leave bright red crescent moons. “that’s it baby, cum for me, make a mess for me. show me you love me— fuck!”
you’re still trembling with the aftershocks with your orgasm when the brunette follows suit — the warmth of his seed floods your quivering cunt, painting your folds an opaque white before yuuta pulls out. the last droplets of his cum hit your soft tummy accompanied by his high pitched whine and then he crumples against you, exhausted from the height of it all.
“i love you so much,” yuuta hums against your skin, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder. “it’s always been you.”
“i love you,” you affirm, knowing that no matter what distance is put between you and your best friend (now lover) — you’ll always find your way back to each other.
꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
#yuuta okkotsu x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#yuuta okkotsu smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#yuuta x reader#yuuta smut#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#yuuta x you#okkotsu yuuta x reader#okkotsu yuuta x you#okkotsu yuuta smut#yuuta okkotsu x you#tteokdoroki#✧ ₊˚੭ — writing#angelshubnetwork
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bull ride
contractor!abby anderson x joel’s daughter!reader
- summary: you spend the night out at a bar and decide to challenge yourself on the mechanical bull to impress abby. when abby sees you from the crowd, she ends up giving you something else to take a ride on. (part 4)
- content: smut MDNI, porn with plot, no outbreak/modern au, contractor/engineer!abby, texas living, no sarah, joel and jerry are both alive, jerry is not a doctor, reader has a business degree, family & work drama, bar setting, some alcohol consumption, truck sex (bit of a quickie), fingering (a!receiving), strap usage (r!receiving), strap sucking, abby referring to the strap as her cock, basically save a horse ride a cowgirl tbh 🤠
- author’s note: hi everyone… i know i’ve been very inactive this year but this part has actually been sitting in my drafts since march so i figured i’d at least post it for the few people who’ve been waiting this long to read it, i hope y’all enjoy it
previous parts: quick fix, surprise visit, charity work
It’s been a week since the bake sale, meaning that it’s also been a week since Abby last had her hands on you.
You’d be lying if you said that this week was flying slow for you right now, because to your surprise, seven days flew by like seven minutes, and before you knew it, it was officially Saturday.
You’re sitting in your room by your dresser, fully dressed from head to toe in the finest Western apparel that you own, finishing the touches on your makeup in the mirror. You then look down at your phone for a moment, still eyeing the last text that Abby had sent you.
She invited you to go to Wild Randy’s tonight, and while you were excited to see her again, you were dreading it at the same time.
It was mainly because Wild Randy’s was the go-to place for you and Joel, and as bad as you want to sneak off with Abby again, you knew that you’d also have to make sure you wouldn’t get caught by your dad either.
You take a few deep breaths before standing up and adjusting your belt, then grabbing your phone and bag before exiting your bedroom.
“Dad! I’m ready to go!” you call out as you strut down the stairs. Given that you always take longer than him to get ready, you figured he’d be sitting on the couch waiting for you, but to your surprise, he wasn’t there.
“Dad? Where are you?” you call out for him again, entering the kitchen to find it empty as well. You roam around the house for a bit before entering the garage, seeing him still in his work clothes working on blueprints. “Dad…are you not coming?”
Joel looks up at you, frowning once he sees you ready to leave. “Oh, shit…it’s Saturday isn’t it?” he says, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I’m sorry kid, I know we go to Randy’s every Saturday but…work’s just been tyin’ me down lately.”
You nod to your dad in acknowledgment. “Well, we can skip tonight if—“
“No, no, no, s’alright,” he says, quickly cutting off your words. “You go. There’s always next weekend right?” he looks down for a moment at his workspace before looking back up at you. “Are you gonna drive yourself there or…?”
“Oh, um it’s okay Dad, I can text Dina for a ride.” you take a few steps closer to him before continuing. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” you ask him, receiving a nod from him in response.
“Okay, well…don’t stay up too late, we have to go to the hardware store next week to start getting supplies for the Mitchell home.” you remind him as you walk your way to the door.
Joel clicks his tongue at you in response. “Thanks for remindin’ me, kid. Don’t have too much fun out there, alright?”
You smile and nod back at him before leaving the garage. Even though you felt bad that your dad couldn’t come, you can’t help but feel relieved about it either. With your dad out of the way, you’d be able to get some time with Abby without the risk of getting caught by him.
You pull out your phone to send a text to Dina telling her to pick you up, and in less than ten minutes she was already honking at your door. While checking to make sure you have everything, you exit your house before locking it, walking down the porch to see Dina inside her car with the windows rolled down.
“Hey, you!” she shouts out, leaning forward over her steering wheel. “Ready for Randy’s?”
“You bet I am!” you shout back to her as you hurriedly get into the passenger side of her car and sit down.
The ride to Wild Randy’s was pretty quick, given that there’s never a rush hour on Saturdays. Aside from the twenty minutes it took Dina to find an available parking spot, the two of you were now quickly settled at the bar.
“So tell me, how’s it going with you and Abby?” Dina asks you as you both sit yourselves down on the bar stools.
Before you can respond to her, Jesse ends up cutting in from behind the bar with two beers in his hand. “Wait a second, you’ve been having a thing with Anderson?” he asks you, popping open the two bottles before handing them to you and Dina. “Didn’t you say that your dad doesn’t want you around her?”
You nod to him in response. “Yeah, and I mean I’ve been doing that for what, four, five years now? But I needed her to come over a few weeks ago to fix an outlet in my living room and it just like…happened, you know?” you explained, taking a sip from your beer.
Dina quickly gulped and set her bottle back down on the bar. “Wait a minute…is that why you were acting so weird during movie night?”
“Yeah…” you tell her with a nod, taking another sip out of your beer. “Anyways, she told me she was going to be here today so…” your words drift off as you turn your head around in search of her, and you are quick to catch her entering the bar with her group of friends. Not only that, but her father was also nowhere to be seen.
It was the first time you saw Abby like this, outside of work and not in her work clothes for once. She was wearing a pair of jeans instead of her usual cargo pants, a pair of western boots instead of her usual work ones, and her tool belt was ditched for a leather belt with a metal buckle on the center. She also had on a tight button-up that showed off her muscles, and to top it all off, a cowboy’s hat that rested over her braided blond hair.
You hate to admit it, but she was looking pretty damn good right now.
Dina suddenly snaps her fingers at you to get your attention, causing you to swivel your chair back around. “She’s there right now isn’t she?” she asks you, receiving a nod from you in response.
“Yeah, I want to go talk to her but…” your words drift off again as you turn back to see her. As you check her out, you notice from the corner of your eye some movement going on towards your left. You fully swivel your chair around this time to get a better look. It appeared to be a group of employees carrying out a large mechanical bull inside an inflatable ring, while another employee stood next to them, giving them orders on where to position the machine.
“Jesse,” you call out to him, swiveling your stool back to face him. “They’re bringing back the bull?”
Jesse looks up briefly to see the mechanical bull being set up before looking back down and pouring some contents into a cocktail shaker. “Yeah, we’ve been getting so many requests to bring it back up after our last bull broke down last year,” he explains as he continues preparing the cocktail for the customer in front of him.
You briefly look back at the bull for a moment, then look over to where Abby was. At that moment, an idea instantly sparked in your mind. What better way could there be to catch Abby’s attention than impressing her by taking a ride on the mechanical bull?
The sound of a loud microphone tap shakes you out of your thoughts, and you look over to see the bar’s owner standing in front of the bull with the microphone in his hand. “Ladies and gentlemen!” he calls out, quickly grabbing the attention of all the patrons inside the dimly lit bar. “I’m pleased to announce that we now have our brand new and improved mechanical bull back into our bar!” he announces, quickly receiving cheers and applause from the customers. “Now who in here…” he says, pointing a finger around the bar. “Is gonna be the first one to be brave enough and take her for a ride?”
You look around the bar to see several amounts of people already preparing themselves for the challenge. Part of you wanted to not do it, but a bigger part of you wanted to ride that damn bull like there was no tomorrow. You were willing to do it, just for the sake of impressing Abby. Neither of your dads were here right now, so who knows when you could get another opportunity like this? It was either now or never.
“I’ll do it!” you shout out, quickly raising your hand to get the owner’s attention.
Dina quickly grabs your hand and pulls it down to your lap. “What are you doing? Are you seriously gonna ride that thing?” she asks with concern.
You open your mouth to respond, but you’re cut off by the owner shouting at you. “You right there! Come on up here!”
You look over at the man before back at Dina. “I guess I am now,” you tell her with a shrug, hopping off of the bar stool and approaching your way towards the ring.
As you walk away from the bar, Jesse comes to Dina from behind, leaning into her side. “I’ll bet you $20 that she won’t last the full five minutes.”
You watch the owner squint to try to get a better look at you as you get closer to the inflatable ring. “Well well well, what do we have here!” he says as you make it to the ring, now standing next to him. “If it isn’t Joel Miller’s daughter herself. You think you’ll be able to handle the bull, Miss Miller?” he asks, pointing the microphone towards you.
You grab the mic from the owner and hold it closer to yourself. “Well, I guess we’ll have to see but…I think I could handle her,” you tell him with confidence before handing the mic back to him.
Numerous amounts of patrons clap and cheer you on in response. As the owner continues to speak to the audience, you step into the inflatable ring, watching as your boots sink inside. You look at your surroundings for a moment, seeing all of the customers placing their bidding money into a hat and passing it around the bar. The hat goes around past Abby as well, and you could’ve sworn she had slipped a hundred-dollar bill in there for you. Her eyes then meet with yours for a moment, and so does that stupid smirk of hers.
“Alright Miss Miller, you have five minutes up on the clock now, if you can make it to the end, you win the bidding money, got it?” the owner explains to you.
You nod at him in acknowledgment. “Sounds like a plan to me.”
You then turn back around so you’re facing the bull. You take a few steps backward as a head start, then quickly run forward and hop on top of the bull. Your hands quickly grab onto the handles, and you keep your legs wrapped around the sides of the bull. Lastly, you position your hips on the bull by pushing them forward, keeping yourself as close as possible to the saddle.
The bull was quickly activated as soon as you sat down, and so was the timer. The machine began to rock back and forth, slowly to start. Once you felt like you were getting the hang of it, that’s when the speed began to go faster. Your grip on the bull progressively gets tighter and tighter the more that the speed increases. It eventually escalated to the fullest speed, the bull now moving and spinning around like crazy. Time has never flown by slower for you than at this moment. On the inside, you were getting so dizzy to where you were going to be sick. But you couldn’t express that. Not in front of the audience. Not in front of Abby.
Regardless of it, you refused to let go. You held onto the bull like your life depended on it, waiting for the timer to count down to zero. Five minutes felt more like an eternity to you right now, but you soon start to feel relief once you hear the audience begin to count down.
Ten, nine, eight…
You lock down your grip on the bull’s handles.
Seven, six, five…
Your legs remain secure on each side of the saddle, and your hips push forward against it. As much as you were trying to hold onto the bull, you couldn’t help but imagine your hips pushing forward on Abby’s str—
Four, three, two, one!
The timer goes off, and the bull begins to slow itself down. As the machine comes to a stop, you instantly loosen your grip on it. You let out a breath of relief as you look up, watching all of the patrons cheer and applaud you. One of the employees approaches to help you, and you carefully hop off the bull before exiting the ring.
“I have to say you did phenomenal on that bull there, Miss Miller.” the owner tells you through the mic, handing you the bidding money. “Anything you wanna say to the audience?”
You take the money from his hands before taking the microphone. “Well, first of all, thank you all for bidding on me, and second…” you pause for a moment before continuing. “And I don’t mean to self-promote but…if anyone here needs any construction help…be sure to contact my dad’s company, Miller Contracting. We’re the best in all of Austin.” your eyes scan around the audience before your gaze fixes on Abby. You keep your eyes on her for a little bit, smirking at her before looking back at the audience and walking off, a last set of applause happening as you do so.
You make your way back to the spot where Jesse and Dina remain. “See? Told y’all I’d beat that thing,” you say, flaunting your bidding money in front of them. Jesse leans forward on the bar to get closer to you. “Mind if I get a cut of that?” he asks, trying to grab the money from your hand.
You move your hand away from him and shake your head. “Hell no, I won this fair and square,” you tell him, clutching the money close to your chest. “Besides, didn’t you bid against me anyway?”
Jesse scoffs, still leaning forward on the bar. “Yeah, but I still have rent to pay,” he replies before taking his weight off the bar to assist another customer.
You simply roll your eyes at him and chuckle in response as you count your money. “Don’t be so dramatic, it’s not even that much—“ your words quickly cut off once you notice something unusual on the hundred-dollar bill. You pull it out of the thin stack, seeing a note attached to it that reads:
“Meet me at the parking lot in five. —A”
You smirk to yourself upon reading the message, not even realizing that you were doing so until Dina points it out. “She wants you to go see her, doesn’t she?” she asks, crossing her arms at you.
You simply nod at her in acknowledgment. “Yeah, she does…” you reply, reaching to the bar to grab the rest of your things before saying goodbye to Jesse and Dina. Upon leaving, you look over to see Abby on the other side of the bar. You watch as she pays for her beer and leaves from the other exit. The thrill and excitement starts to consume you already in seeing her again.
The cool air hits you once you exit the bar. You roam around the parking lot in search of her until you hear a faint whistling sound from behind. You turn around to see Abby’s prominent figure from a distance leaning on the side of her truck. You don’t approach her quickly though. Instead, you take your time walking your way towards her.
“Well, well, well…if it isn’t the bull tamer herself…” Abby says, taking her weight off the truck. “You looked good up there, you know…riding that thing.”
You smirk and take a step closer to her. “I’m glad. Wanted to put on a show for you there,” you tell her quietly, and she leans in to give you a kiss, the rim of her cowboy hat slightly brushing over the top of your head as your lips briefly connect.
“You know…” she tells you quietly, slightly separating her lips from yours. “I’ve got something else that you can take a ride on for me…”
“Oh yeah?” you whisper back to her. “And what might that be?”
“Why don’t you hop in my truck and find out?”
And with that you take a step back, letting Abby unlock her truck before opening the passenger door and entering inside. Upon opening the door, you couldn’t help but notice that the windows in Abby’s truck were slightly darker than the last time you saw it…did she seriously get her windows tinted?
Abby holds the door open for you, and you quickly climb inside and hop onto her lap before she closes the door and locks it, now confining the both of you inside. Your thighs wrap themselves around Abby’s lab and you push your hips forward over her crotch, just like how you did on the bull. You could practically feel the bulge of her strap under all that denim.
Abby lets out a soft groan at the sudden friction. “How about you get it wet for me first, yeah?” she says, reaching down to the lever on the bottom part of the seat and pushing it back to give you some space on the ground.
You don’t even think twice about it, instantly dropping down to your knees and unzipping her jeans before pulling the thick black strap out of her boxers. After seeing the sight of it, you were pretty shocked. You didn’t get a good look when she fucked you last time, but now that it’s in your hands, you’re amazed that you were able to take the immense length of Abby’s strap.
Your fingers wrap around the large piece of silicone before you lean into it, lips instantly wrapping around the tip. You gently suck onto the tip for a moment, then slowly work your way down to the base of the strap. However, your mouth couldn’t last being down so deep, so you briefly pull it back up to the tip before going back down, repeatedly continuing your movements thereafter.
Abby lets out a quiet groan as she feels the base of her strap rubbing against her clit. Replacing your mouth with your hand, you look up for a moment to see her head slightly tilted back, her cowboy hat obstructing her view as well.
You keep stroking her strap with one hand, spreading your saliva all over from base to tip to distract her. As you do that, you use your other hand to gently shift the harness to the side and sneak your fingers into the crotch of her boxers, instantly finding access to her wet pussy before sliding two of them inside.
Abby notices the sudden shift of movement and looks down at you. “What the hell are you—oh fuck—“ her words get cut off with a quiet groan as you begin to curl her fingers inside of her. “Oh fuck yeah, k-keep doing that…”
You smirk back at her as you continue to pump your fingers inside her, now fully diverting your attention away from the strap for a moment. Your other hand moves to keep the harness of the strap pushed to the side while you finger Abby’s pussy, and you look up to keep an eye on her every movement—the way her hands grip the seat of the truck, the moans and whines escaping from her mouth, and how her eyes were tightly shut and the head was thrown back in pleasure. You’d be lying if you said that the way she looked right now wasn’t turning you on because you can just easily feel your arousal pooling in between your thighs as you do this to her.
“God, fucking hell—go…go faster…” Abby whines out to you, tightening her grip on the seat as she manspreads herself farther on it to give you more space. You simply nod in acknowledgment, speeding up your pace inside her in a desperate effort to get her to cum.
You can visibly see her breaths getting deeper, and you can practically feel the way her cunt began to contract around your two fingers, knowing that she was getting close. Within moments, your fingers get instantly coated with her release as she cums around them with a loud groan. Her breathing soon slows down as she recovers from her orgasm and she looks back down at you. Your gaze stays fixed on hers while you slide your fingers out of her pussy and place them into your mouth, sucking them clean while you get a taste of her release.
“My god…” Abby pants out, still trying to catch her breath. “No one’s ever made me cum that fast before…you’re good at this too, you know.”
You smirk back at her as you sit back for a moment, briefly resting your weight on the back of your boots. “Looks like you’re not the only one who’s good at making a quick fix, Anderson.” the blonde simply shakes her head at you in response before patting her hand on her lap. “Your turn now, angel. Get on up here.”
Without hesitation, you slowly lift yourself from the floor of the truck and climb onto Abby’s lap in the passenger seat, her large hands quickly roaming up and down your hips as you do so. You watch as she scrunches up your skirt around your hips and brings one of her hands down to the crotch of your underwear, smirking once she senses the wetness underneath it. “Looks like she’s pretty eager to take a ride, don’t you think?”
You nod quickly in response, and you lift yourself to hover over the strap. Abby helps you out by shifting your underwear to the side and spreading your puffy folds open. You grab the strap with one hand to align it with your entrance while you grab onto Abby’s shoulder with the other to support yourself as you go down.
The tip meets with your entrance, and you whimper at the sudden stretch. Your grip on Abby’s shoulder tightens as you try to maintain your balance over her lap. And then, little by little…you begin to sink down her strap, all the way until your folds were pressing over the base of it.
Once the entire length was inside you, you used your other hand to grab Abby’s other shoulder for balance. The feeling this time was a little more difficult to handle in comparison to how Abby had fucked you at the bake sale. You weren’t bent over, nor did you have the support of the counter either. You were completely sat upright, in the confined passenger seat of Abby’s truck, with her strap so far inside you that she could visibly see the tip poking out of your lower stomach. It sure felt overwhelming, to say the least.
“Fuck…you look good for me like this…” she mutters out quietly as she runs her thumbs down your stomach, gently pressing onto the bulge that was being formed from her strap. She watches as you continue to stay upright, now squirming in her grasp as a response to the pressure she was giving to your stomach. “You know…it’s not gonna feel any better if you don’t move.” she continues, now bringing one hand further down to rub your clit. “Take a ride on it, princess…It’ll feel good once you start moving.”
Your eyes flicker down to the watch that was wrapped around Abby’s left wrist. You glance at the time.
10:39…10:40.
You take a deep breath and tighten your grip on Abby’s broad shoulders. As her hands remain planted on your body, you begin to lift yourself up before going straight back down. You repeat the process, now developing a slow pace on her strap.
Abby smirks as she looks up at you, watching every moan and whimper escape from your lips as you fuck yourself on her cock. “There we go, that’s it…atta girl…” her praises and coos continue, now leading you to move at a faster pace. As you begin to ride her faster, Abby notices how close your head is getting to the ceiling of her truck every time you go up. While keeping one hand planted on you, she quickly takes off her cowboy hat and places it on your head, fixing up the rim so she can still see you. “Prettiest cowgirl I’ve ever seen,” she mutters out quietly, placing her hand back onto your hip as you keep riding her.
As you keep riding Abby’s strap, you take a glance out the window, making you slow down to get a better look. You see some people leaving the bar and walking their way back to their vehicles, and your heart begins fucking racing when they pass by Abby’s truck, completely oblivious of the events that are happening inside it.
“Hey,” Abby squeezes your hip, causing you to direct your attention back to her. “They’re not seeing any of this, you know…” she pauses for a moment before continuing. “But I bet you want them to, don’t you? It’s obvious you enjoyed throwing on that little show back there at the bar earlier, so would this be any different?” she asks, leaning in to kiss you. “Would it be any different if those same people saw a pretty cowgirl like you slutting herself out for me like this? Riding my cock and making a mess all over my lap? Hm?”
You whine back at her, shaking your head. “Yeah, I knew you’d like that, my filthy little cowgirl…” she responds with a smirk. “But you see, that’s why I have all of my windows tinted now…because I don’t want anyone to see what’s really mine.”
Your pussy practically throbs at her words. You were so distracted by what Abby was saying to you that didn’t even realize that you had stopped riding her. Your arousal was now just soaking up her cock and jeans. Abby looks down at her lap and smirks before looking back up at you. “I didn’t tell you to stop now, did I?” she asks, giving you a smack on your ass. “C’mon, cowgirl…keep fucking riding me.”
Your pace now begins to quicken this time, and you move your left hand to the armrest that was above your head, gripping it as you keep your other hand on her shoulder. “F-fuck, Abby…f-feels so good….” you moan out to her, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment as the tip of her strap presses onto your cervix while you ride.
“Oh yeah? Does it feel good, princess?” she asks, admiring how you were starting to go dumb on her cock. “That’s it, keep riding me, just like that…Ride me just like how you were riding that damn bull.”
Abby’s words had your stomach doing fucking flips. You tried your best to maintain your fast pace as you rode her strap, but your legs were quickly starting to give out. “A-Abby, help me…please…”
“Aw, you poor thing, getting tired already now aren’t you?” Without any warning, Abby tightens her grip on your hips and begins to slam her cock right into you. You yelp in surprise as your left hand flies from the armrest back onto Abby’s shoulder, and you continue to push your hips down as Abby keeps thrusting inside you. “C’mon cowgirl, be a good girl and cum for me now…”
Your cunt begins to clench around her strap, indicating that you were about to cum. Abby looks down at your pussy, watching in awe as a white ring began to quickly form on her strap. Her thumb meets with your clit, quickly rubbing it as you continue to cum all over her cock, whimpering and moaning out her name as you do so.
As you finish riding out your orgasm, your pace begins to slow down and you rest yourself on Abby’s chest, panting deeply as you try to catch your breath. Before Abby pulls herself out, you grab her left wrist again and glance back down at her watch.
10:43…10:44.
“Four minutes,” Abby says, looking down at her watch. “Looks like you made a new record.”
You playfully push her arm back as she brings her hand back onto your hip and slowly pulls her strap out of your fucked out pussy, causing you to whine at the loss of it. Keeping you in her arms, Abby trades places with you and carefully rests your limp body onto the seat while briefly she gets onto the ground. She peeks through the fogged up windows, making sure that the coast was clear so she could get out of the truck.
As you watch Abby hop off her truck, your eyes start to feel heavy from the exhaustion before quickly fluttering shut for a moment. As your eyes were closed, you could feel Abby’s large hands move your body around before the sudden warmth of her tongue makes contact with your sore cunt, causing you to involuntarily jerk away.
“Hey, relax…I’m just cleaning you up a bit,” she mutters out to you. You simply nod in response, eyes remaining shut as your body eases in and relaxes into her touch again. The gentle movements of Abby’s tongue and lips on your pussy easily removes the tension in your thighs, making you feel as if you were now sinking into the leather of the seat. You then start to feel some shifting of your clothes along with the sounds of the truck doors opening and closing right before you briefly fall into a state of slumber.
The sudden rumbling movements of the truck cause your eyes to slowly flicker back open. You wake up to find yourself lying on your left side in the passenger seat, but now with the seatbelt secured over you. The dim lights of the truck are no longer present, only the faint brightness of the music player on the dashboard is the only thing illuminating your vision right now. The sounds of the few cars on the road surround you, along with the country music quietly playing inside as well. You look up to see Abby with her gaze fixed on the road, with one hand planted firmly on the steering wheel while the other simply rested over on the center console.
You rest your hand on top of hers, and Abby quickly notices that gentle touch of yours, briefly glancing down to look at you. “Hey there…” she says with a smile before looking back up at the road. “You were out for most of the ride, feeling any better?” she asks, gently enclosing your hand into her large palm.
You shift around in your seat, no longer feeling as sore as you were before. “Yeah, a little…” you tell her, resting your head back on the seat as you watch her drive. “I had a really good time tonight, you know…” you tell her, to which she smiles in response.
“I did too,” she replies, quickly looking over to you again. “Felt nice to finally escape from our dads for once.”
The speed of the truck soon starts to slow down before coming to a halt. Your heart instantly sinks to the pit of your stomach, and your smile begins to fade. You knew what this meant.
It meant that you were back home. Your time with Abby was now up.
You unbuckle your seatbelt and sit up completely to look over at the sight of your house. All of the lights were shut off, except for the faint blue light of the living room TV, and you could easily see your dad’s head tilted to the side, indicating that he was now asleep.
You let out a sigh. “I…I don’t want to go back in there,” you say, turning your head back to look at Abby. She simply sighs and gently rubs your shoulder. “I know you don’t, angel…but we can’t risk it. As much as I can’t stand your dad, I don’t want him to get worried about you either.”
Your head hangs low now, nodding in acknowledgment. Abby’s hand gently holds your chin to lift your face. “You know this won’t be the last time, right?” she asks you, to which you nod again.
“I know, I just…I’ll miss you, Abs…who knows when we’ll see each other again?” you ask back, looking up into her soft blue eyes. She nods back at you in response. “It’ll happen again soon, okay? Just know that I’m always gonna have you on my mind, alright?” she says before quickly leaning in to kiss you, the rim of her hat on your head brushing over her hair this time as she does so.
You instantly kiss her back before pulling away to grab your things from the ground. You take a deep breath and open the door, exiting the truck and closing it. Your boots now meet with the concrete of the sidewalk, and you walk your way to the front door of your house. Before you go in, you look back to see Abby watching you from her truck, and you two give each other a final wave before she drives off to park into the driveway of her house.
As the lights of Abby’s truck shut off now, you turn back to the door to unlock it. You slowly open the door just enough to squeeze yourself inside before closing it and locking it again. You turn around to see Joel fast asleep on his recliner while the TV screen illuminates the whole room. Without making a sound, you tiptoe on over to pick up the remote from the coffee table and shut off the TV. You set the remote back down and turn over to pick up a throw blanket from the couch to tuck your dad in before heading upstairs to your bedroom.
The door creaks slightly as you enter inside. You slowly close the door before letting out a sigh as you set your bag down on the ground before kicking off your boots. You take off Abby’s hat and set it on top of your dresser before the rest of your clothes come off of you and to the ground until you’re down to your underwear. You pick up a random oversized shirt from your dad’s company and throw it on. As you’re taking off your makeup, your phone buzzes on your bed, and you reach over to pick it up.
“Abby: I’ll be thinking of you.”
You look up from the screen to your right, seeing her broad silhouette in the bedroom window across from yours. The two of you stare at each other for a bit, until you wave her off and get into bed, to which she does the same right after.
Not only was this the first night the two of you had officially spent alone together, but it was also the first night where you both just couldn’t take each other off of your minds now.
And all you could do was just wait until your path meets with hers again.
- tags 🏷️: @nyctophiliq @lucidfairies @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @abbysfavewh0rx @lia-winther @grooviestcowboy @pretty-prrincess-13 @iwillkilyou @erinsdeluluworld @elliens4 @totallyghostdgirl @sirenbxby @bellaramslover @uraesthete @cherrycolouredflunk @whorn3y @thatonementallyillsimp @elliewilliamsmunch @gaptoothedlesbo @deadbolted @mochiivqi @floptron @swtsuna @naomis-daydream @hunnybunnyhazel @paprikahoernchen @bbglmfao @thesevi0lentdelights @mostlyhornyandsad @littlegingerperson @ur-fav-pixi @2busyfangirling @lmaoo-spiderman @olive-fics @onlinelesbo @piscesfairyyy @mrsandersons (striked means i couldn’t tag)
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#abby anderson#contractor!abby#abby anderson smut#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson fic#abby anderson tlou2#abby x reader smut#abby anderson tlou#abby the last of us#abby x you#abby x reader#abby tlou#abby x fem!reader#abby anderson x you#abby anderson the last of us#wlw#abby anderson x female reader#abby anderson fanfiction#the last of us#the last of us x reader#the last of us part 2#the last of us fanfiction
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cl16 | are we out of the woods yet?
summary: [ charles leclerc x f!driver!reader — social media au / fic ] after you get into a rough crash, charles is faced with difficult decisions
request: can i get a female driver reader injury/crash angst with daniel, seb or charles pls love your fics!
warnings: crashes and injuries, general medical stuff, unspecified mentions of death (implied to be jules and hervé), open/unclear ending
author’s note: hihi lovely!! tysm for requesting <3 hope this is enough angst for you ;) also i have no clue how to write injuries soooooo just roll with it
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ynupdates y/n has been taken to the medical center following her crash in the #brazilgp. no further news has been released yet. we're all behind you, y/n! 🤞
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user did anyone see if she was able to get out of the car by herself?
↪ user no, i think she had to be extracted by the medical crew 😬
user i hope she's okay...
Charles' phone is halfway out of his pocket when it starts ringing. Glancing at the screen, he swipes to accept the call when he sees that it's from your mother. He had called her a few minutes ago, when the sight of your crash had first appeared on the screens in the Ferrari paddock, but she hadn’t picked up. Her voice filters through the speakers of his phone, worry tinging her tone.
“Do you have news yet?” she asks.
“Don’t know,” Charles replies, “I’m on my way to see her now. It… might be good to book a flight — and soon.” He doesn’t want to alarm your mom but it seems inevitable and he knows that you would want her next to you.
“Okay,” she breathes shakily, “and Charles?”
“Yeah?”
“She better be okay when I get there.”
Charles winces. Of all the people in the world, he knows all too well why you can never make any promises, especially in Formula 1.
“I’ll do my best,” he says and ends the call.
There’s a marshal waiting for him in the tiny waiting area in the medical center. He’s pacing nervously and immediately strides towards Charles as soon as he sees him.
“Mr. Leclerc,” he begins, “the doctors wanted to see you before they take any further action. You have medical power of attorney for Ms. L/N in case of emergency, correct?”
Charles nods numbly. It had been a precaution at the time because you had insisted that out of everyone in the paddock, you trusted him the most. He had accepted it without thinking twice but now the weight of the responsibility settles heavily over his shoulders. He follows the marshal past empty treatment rooms until they reach one with its door thrown open.
Charles feels his lunch crawling back up his throat as he stares at your figure. You’re laid out on a stretcher and you’d almost look peaceful if not for the numerous medical apparatuses connected to you and the thin trickle of dried blood on your temple. He somehow finds his voice again.
“What happened?” he asks, almost afraid to hear the answer.
A paramedic steps forward. “Ms. L/N took quite a knock in her crash, I’m afraid,” she explains gently. “Something came loose in the cockpit and hit her head. We’re not sure if there’s any further internal injuries, but our professional opinion is that she should be moved as soon as possible to a hospital for further testing.”
Charles swallows around a lump in his throat. “Is there any particular risk with transporting her in this state?”
The paramedic shakes her head. “No more than the usual, which is relatively low compared to the risk that we run by keeping her here without knowing if there’s anything else wrong.”
Charles follows your ambulance all the way into the hospital in a haze. He barely registers the press grouped outside the entrance, pushing through them, always keeping you in his sights. He waits outside of the examination room they bring you into and follows as they wheel you around, receiving god knows how many tests.
After a while members of your team start showing up, although they keep a respectful distance from Charles. He’s glad. He knows, rationally, that you were just unlucky, but the irrational and protective side of him is screaming at him to place the blame at someone’s feet. He knows you wouldn’t appreciate him blowing up at your team, though, so he doesn’t say anything to them and keeps vigil by your side as the doctors poke and prod.
Eventually you’re carefully placed in a hospital bed and Charles is pulled aside by what seems to be the main doctor assigned to you.
“Unfortunately, it seems as if we will have to operate on Ms. L/N,” he says gently. “Someone else will go over the details with you, but long story short she’s bleeding internally and it’s imperative that we get to it as soon as possible. Of course, any operation of this size could potentially be dangerous, but I strongly recommend taking action sooner rather than later.”
Charles shakes his head, the words not yet registering in his scattered mind. “Is she going to be okay?” he mumbles, not meeting the doctor’s eyes.
He can feel the doctor’s pitying gaze on him and Charles doesn’t have it in him to tell him that he’s been here before — not this specific hospital, no, but he’s been on this side of the conversation that they’re having already, and it tears his heart up just as much as the first time. The only difference this time is that he’s the one who has to make the choice, not anyone else.
“We can’t make any guarantees,” the doctor cautions, “but it would significantly raise her chances of survival if we act now.”
Charles winces at the doctor’s words. Survival. Drive to survive, surviving to drive, the irony of the situation isn’t lost on him. He uncurls his fingers gingerly from where he had been unconsciously gripping his pants.
He wants to avoid the decisions he knows he will have to make in the next twenty-four hours. He wants to pretend that nothing happened, that you’re still on the track, passing everyone in your way. He wants to go back to this morning, when he had kissed you goodbye before jogging off to get ready for the race. He wishes he had taken time to do more than peck you and throw a “love you!” over his shoulder. Charles wants to hide from the cold, stark reality he’s faced with. Your life lies in his hands and Charles is so, so tired of bleak hospital hallways.
He wants to scream at the heavens. He’s suffered and given so much already. Is one shred of happiness too much to ask? Charles had known the risks going in when he started dating you — one Formula 1 driver was usually more than enough jeopardy in a relationship, let alone two — but he’d never really thought that the day would arrive where he would have to make decisions about you, without you.
Charles stares at your face through the window to your room, tracing the curves and slopes with his eyes. It’s the face he wakes up next to almost every day and he curses himself for not cherishing the time he’s already had with you more. His brain is moving a mile a minute, running through all the possible outcomes. At the end of the day, though, he’s only got one choice.
Charles Leclerc has always been selfish and he’ll be damned if he lets another person he loves slip through his fingers.
“Where do I sign?”
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masterlist | taglist: @boiohboii @vellicora
#solwriting#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula one x reader#formula 1#f1#f1 fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 x you#f1 social media au#f1 imagine#f1 smau#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc smau
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