#he’s too over protective of me I swear. if I had a car. and any money. I’d be going. but alas. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lucid-loves · 3 months ago

Note

Reader getting kidnapped and tortured for information, when Simon and the team save the reader and take them back to base and Simon helps her recover mentally and physically, Simon swears to protect her at all costs? And they fall in love?! ❤️❤️

Thank you for waiting! 🤍

What a Time To Be Alive

Pairing: Ghost x POW!reader (fem!reader, 141!reader, callsign “Spite”)

Word Count: 13.7k, One-Shot

CW: strong language, angst, violence, scars, blood, wounds, killing, fluff, attraction, one-shot, reader POV and Ghost POV, minors DNI, EXPLICIT SMUT, P in V, passionate kisses, fingering, hickeys, mirror sex, passionate sex, gentleness, compliments, praise

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: You were caught by the enemy during a crucial mission. The 141 team had no choice but to leave you, thinking you were dead already. For a year and a half, you were held prisoner and tortured for information. When the 141 finally gets you back, Ghost volunteers to take care of you during your recovery, having felt responsible for your capture. Both of your feelings blossom into something more as you both realize how much you care about one another.

You were dead. At least, that’s what everyone thought when they watched you get shot in the head. You didn’t blame them for leaving. You would have probably thought the same thing if it was one of them.

No, you were still alive. The metal plate that doctors put in your head after a bad car accident as a teenager saved your life. You were knocked out cold upon bullet impact, but still very much alive. Not that you were doing well, though.

With a headache and tired eyes, you looked at your cold, stone wall marked with tally marks for the passing days. 547 days were marked, give or take. There were days where you didn’t wake up so you forgot to mark them. You didn’t wake up until some time after you were captured too. Those days weren’t marked.

Your stomach grumbled, making your body’s ache amplify all over. You couldn’t remember the last time your body didn’t hurt. What was once lean military muscle was now skin and bones. You were constantly hungry for food, a combination of you refusing to eat out of spite and being underserved overcooked rice to the point that it was just mush.

They kept you weak. Underfed and dehydrated. It was probably a good thing they did because otherwise you would rip your warden apart with your bare hands.

When you first came to after being captured, you had the honor to meet your warden right away. A man that was on the hit list for the 141, Bill Porakov. but made a surprise appearance at the mission. He was the one that lifted his gun just as everyone was boarding the helicopter to go home.

It was one of the memories you still remembered so vividly. The dirt kicking up from the ground, the blades whipping around the wind, the look back you happened to give by chance before the gun went off. You saw the aim. You traced it back. And before the bullet could hit him, you had pushed Ghost hard. The last sight you saw of them was Ghost falling forward towards the chopper, the rest of the team that was already grabbing his arms to pull him in.

You saw the brief expressions he gave you when he looked back. At first, he was annoyed, but it didn’t take long for his annoyance to morph into pure horror as the bullet meant for him hit your skull.

When you awoke, you were strapped to a chair. Your head pounded, you were in your underwear, and you were meeting your warden.

No matter what he did, you never talked. Even when he cut your skin with knives. Even when he dislocated your jaw with a hammer. Even when he took your pinkie finger and a few of your teeth, you never talked. All you did was give a human snarl, angry firecrackers in your eyes.

It wasn’t until the third month when he realized that nothing was going to make you talk that he switched tactics to solitary confinement. He came by every now and then to try physical torture again. Waterboarding, electric shock.

It felt like he did it more so for fun than to fish information out of you after a certain point.

You snapped to attention when you heard whispers down the hall. A few guards were whispering to each other. Trying to ignore the pain of your body, you attempted to eavesdrop.

“-said to be extra careful today. Maintenance work will have the cameras down for a little bit.”

“Like anything is gonna happen. Her brain is too scrambled to do anything. You know what she did last week?”

“What?”

“She threw her food out. Managed to sling the bowl through the bars and shattered the thing. Then, she just sat in the corner. Didn’t even realize that the food she got was actually good that day. The bitch is paranoid and out of it. One too many things to that thick skull of hers.”

“Damn, really? When do think the warden is gonna let her go now that she’s fucked in the head?”

“Probably never. After that incident was reported, he just shrugged. Said she was still a prize, even starving.”

As the guards approached your cell, you pretended that you were asleep. It wasn’t hard to do since you often found yourself pretending to be asleep to avoid guard confrontation. When you heard the sound of your cell door unlocking and opening, you stirred as if just becoming awake.

“Dinner. Don’t make me clean your mess like last week.”

You slowly got up and limped towards the silver tray, your porcelain dishware exchanged for silver since last week.

You threw the food against the wall last week because it looked good. Too good. You did get paranoid and thought it was poisoned. A last meal. You didn’t care if it made you look crazy. In fact, you liked how they thought you went crazy. They would underestimate you, especially now that the time was right for your plan.

On your tray was the usual mush of rice mixed together with cut deli meat. The smallest amount of protein and carbs that would make the grumbling stop, but your body still weak.

Slowly, you ate, trying to ignore the fact that you had to eat with your fingers that were covered in sweat and dirt. They only let you take a cold shower once a month. One that only lasted thirty seconds.

God, you hoped that today really would be the day you could start your plans of escape.

“Prison Fight in Cell Block D! Personnel in Cell Block E and F report to Cell Block D immediately!” a strong voice announced over the speakers just as one of the guards was relocking your cell. They both sighed, but then hurried out to see what the commotion was.

Except, they forgot to lock your door properly. You’ve gotten used to all the sounds of the prison like a pattern. The sound of your cell door locking was a familiar that never missed, until today. Waiting a few minutes, you made sure that the guards were gone and busy. If this was going to work, you had to be careful. Play your cards right.

You were lucky that you were Cell Block F’s only prisoner.

Slowly, you pushed the door to avoid the whining creak it always gave. Slipping through, you could feel your hands shake and your head spin. Jesus, you were in bad shape. This was the most amount of moving you had done in a while.

Carefully, you headed down the hall toward the front desk of the block. Luck really was on your side today. As you peeked through the door window, you noticed that there was no one manning the desk. All that was left was a radio, a cell phone, a transmitter, a computer, and walkie talkies on chargers. You pushed the door open, the task taking more effort than it should have, and you picked up the phone.

Dialing the secret number you knew by heart, you prayed that it would go through. It rang several times before you reached a voicemail prompt. You nearly wept when you heard Kate’s voice asking you to leave a message. You missed her.

Your voice cracked as you tried to summon it. It’s been a long time since you’ve used it for talking. Nowadays you’ve only used it for screaming. It was hoarse and broken. It hurt to speak. “Th-This is Spite. 5286. I’ve been a prisoner all this time. I-I don’t know where. I haven’t seen the light of day. . .”

“Please, bring me home. If that can’t happen. . .”

You swallowed hard and thought about your next words carefully. “I will hold out for two weeks. If no one comes for me, then I will take my own life by taking Bill Porakov’s life. I won’t go to the other side empty handed.”

Leaving the message at that, you hung up, erased the call history, and cautiously retreated back to your cell. Crawling into your concrete slab of a bed, you curled up and closed your eyes. You felt your cheeks become wet as you now waited for someone or no one to help you.

Just before you began to drift off. You heard sounds coming down your hallway again. Heavy footsteps that identified your visitor. The warden.

You felt his eyes on you, sizing you up in the corner of your cell. When he attempted to unlock the door, he noticed that it was unlocked already. Instead of becoming angry at his employees, he simply began to laugh. The other guards nervously began to join in. “Unlocked door and still a stationary prisoner. Have you lost hope finally? Good. It’ll make taming you a lot easier.”

The 141 team was getting out of a meeting. A boring one. One that went over statistics and facts about their own work that nearly put them to sleep. They never really cared about their accomplishments or results from a numbers perspective. Besides that, all the accomplishments they made nowadays felt tasteless. Ever since you died, all of their success never felt as good as before.

The team was quiet, walking through base together under a bright afternoon sun. Soap was the first to speak in that thick Scottish accent of his. “How about the bar tonight, lads? I could go for a drink.”

There was no answer for a moment, everyone hesitant to accept the offer. The last time they went out to the usual bar, they did have a good time. Until Ghost glanced over at what used to be your chair. He always did that when he went out to the bar. When he noticed the absence, everybody else did too.

Ghost took your death the hardest. You gave your life to save his. It was a debt that he could never repay. Besides that, you were one of the best of them. The wittiest sense of humor, the most encouraging and supportive in and outside the battlefield. The best cook too when you were sick of the base’s cafeteria food.

Drinking only made him forget about you for a short while, but it was always an offer he took up when he was invited out to the bar. “Sure, Johnny.”

“Count me in then too.” Gaz chimed in. Price nodded as well, the both of them having had formulated a plan for the next bar outing. Something that would hopefully bring all of them a little more closure, especially Ghost.

They were going to propose a memorial. They held one a week after you died, yet it didn’t feel quite right. It was too formal. Too stiff. It was organized by the military. Ghost didn’t even go. They needed to organize one themselves. One that you would approve of better.

They just had to make sure Ghost would attend. A discussion that would be saved for the bar tonight.

Just before Soap could open his mouth to say something, Price spotted Kate running full speed towards them, tears streaming down her face. She was shaking and breathing so hard that it looked like she was close to a panic attack.

“Kate?! What’s wrong? What happened?” Price already began to ask, the team ready to spring into action.

She took a few deep breaths, working up the courage to reveal the truth that almost had her faint when she first heard it. “S-Spite. . . She’s alive. . . She’s alive!”

Ghost felt his heart drop. His blood ran contradictory temperatures. Hot and cold. His breath was stuck in his lungs. He lost color under his mask. Then, he clenched his teeth. No, this couldn’t be true. You got shot in the head. There was no way you could have survived that.

“Are you sure Kate? How do you know?” Price calmly tried to reason, not wanting to hold out for false hope either.

Laswell just nodded and opened her phone. In a single tap, your voice came out broken but alive.

The team was frozen as they listened to your cry for help followed by your fearless determination. If they had any doubts before that it was really you, those doubts no longer existed as you said something only you would say. That you wouldn’t die empty handed.

“Spite. . . you spiteful bastard. . .” Soap choked, not afraid to shed a tear.

Kate put her phone back in her pocket and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “I’ll have my people trace the call back to the location.”

Price nodded before turning to his men. “Gear up! We got a soldier to save!”

As soon as the order was given, Ghost left the group to go to his room in the barracks. He had to pack. His mind was racing as he began taking a few extra socks from his dresser. He could hardly believe it. You were alive. You, the person always on his mind even after all this time had passed, was still living.

He couldn’t imagine the shit you were going through. And he felt like it was his fault.

No matter what, he promised himself, he would bring you back home. Even if it cost him his life this time.

You didn’t know how many days had passed. Porakov took you out of your solitary cell to keep in a new prison located in his office. It was a beautiful office with fresh flowers, polished furniture, and a white carpet. In your new cell, a modern door that needed keycard access locked you in the room. The room was all white except for one wall made out of bullet-proof glass for Porakov’s viewing pleasure.

Somehow, you missed your old cell.

As you sat in the corner of your new room, you watched Porakov through the glass. He was chatting with someone new. Someone that looked out of place with their white coat and round glasses. A doctor perhaps?

Your captor finally looked at you, making your skin crawl. He gave a malicious grin like a wolf that trapped its prey. The stranger looked at you too, a curious quirk in his brow.

They approached your door, unlocked it, and stepped inside. You kept to the corner, shrinking yourself as much as you could. “Well? What do you think? Can you do it?”

The doctor examined you further, adjusting his glasses on his face. “I think so. It’s going to take some time, though. Can you have this room ready for me within two hours with everything I need?”

“We actually have everything ready to roll out.” The warden smirked before leaning into his walkie talkie and summoning workers to bring out rolling tables of medical equipment into the room.

You watched with steel eyes as they set the room up with all the medical equipment. A metal slab as if it came from a vet’s room took up the center. Microchips, a bonesaw, scalpels, and tweezers decorated the various trays. It took nearly no time at all to get whatever torture method Porakov planned set up.

The doctor began to sanitize his hands. “Such diligence isn’t even demonstrated in regular hospitals.”

“This is a special day.” Your captor responded before leaving the room only to watch behind the glass. As the doctor approached, you braced yourself like a cornered wild animal.

The doctor eased back, treating you as such. “It’s alright. I’m going to fix you up. Make you feel better. You want that, don’t you? I know you’ve been in pain for a long time.”

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You simply warned, refusing to believe a single word he said. If he was working for Porakov, that was enough of a reason not to trust him. No self-respecting doctor would even entertain the idea of working for a vile man like him.

The doctor frowned at your disobedience. “If you fight this, it’s going to hurt way more.”

As his hand inched closer to you, you sprung forward and attempted to bite. He pulled back just in time before you could bite a finger off. He cursed and turned to the glass. “You said she was broken!”

“Seems like she still has a little fight left in her. Apologies, doctor. It’s okay if you have to be rough with her. Teach her who’s boss.” The warden simply encouraged.

With a sigh, he revealed a small gun strapped to his belt. It wasn’t a regular gun. It was a tranquilizer gun. Realizing what was about to happen, you tried to get to your feet as quickly as you could, but it was too late. Your lack of proper body care made you lose your balance. A sharp pain hit your shoulder, a dart sticking out of you. Your vision already began to haze over, your body feeling heavier than ever before. Whatever was in the tranquilizer was enough to make you ragdoll, but not enough to put you to sleep.

They wanted you awake for this.

Your limp body was lifted onto the table, giving Porakov a clear view of the show that was about to begin.

It felt like you were beginning to disassociate. Tears escaped as you wished that you were dead instead of being here. Being treated like a rabid animal and a personal show made you sick. Dying alone in your cell would be better than this.

Something caught Porakov’s attention for a moment. He seemed to be yelling at someone. It looked urgent. Before he left to handle business, he told the doctor to continue his work.

The doctor simply shrugged and focused back on you. He took a scalpel and began to make an incision along the palm of your hand. You felt the chill of the blade meet your hot blood, nerves going off as if you were touching a hot stove. You hissed and groaned at the pain, refusing to give him anymore than this if you could help it.

But then, he began to dig around under your skin using the tweezers, shredding nerves and muscles like pulling apart thread. As he pinched your nerves directly, you screamed. A bloodcurdling scream that ripped apart your vocal chords.

Ignoring your cries, he took a microchip and settled it between your flesh. It suddenly clicked for you. He was rewiring you. Finding your nerves like hidden wires to connect to microchips that were programmed to do god knows what to your body.

Your mind went berserk, screaming at you to get out of there. To fight back. Adrenaline fought tranquilizer for control as your hand was being ripped apart from the inside. Your heart beated within your ears as you find the energy to grab a spare scalpel from the tray and swipe it along the doctor’s neck, letting gravity and momentum carry out your attack.

You heard the sound of him choking on blood, his tools clattering to the floor as he struggled to get his bleeding under control. Rolling off the table, you hit the ground hard with your hip. The breath that was knocked out of you made your head spin. You used to take most pain like a champ. Now, everything felt like your were getting hit by a truck.

It didn’t stop you from trying to reorientate yourself, your bleeding, open hand clutching your head. When you finally managed to stand back up, the doctor was staggering to get out of the room. Taking advantage of his state of weakness, you took the bonesaw and prepared to ruin his hand like he tried to do to yours.

The doctor stumbled onto the pristine carpet of Porakov, staining it with his blood. As you got closer with the saw, his gurgles became more strained. Begging for mercy. Adrenaline was kicking in full swing now as you became engulfed in rageful flames. You took a flower vase to your left and threw it, hitting him square in the knees. While he was knocked down, you stepped on one of his wrists.

He had no choice but to take it unless he wanted to bleed out, his other hand still holding the wound. Without remorse, you began sawing off his left hand. Within a few seconds, you didn’t even hear the strained mixture of gurgles and screams anymore. You didn’t hear anything anymore as you just sawed away, taking out your time of suffering out on someone you thought deserved to die.

By the time the hand was detached, the doctor was already long gone. Your hands were shaking and you were exhausted. Everything was still mute, the sound of your heavy breath taking over your ears.

It was the smell of gunpowder that snapped your attention to the exit. It was an undeniable scent. Something big was going on. Perhaps you were finally getting rescued.

You took a step towards the door before stopping altogether, the door suddenly slammed open to reveal a bloody, panicked Porakov. He clutched his side that was staining his uniform in blood. The strap he usually carried was missing.

Adrenaline came rushing back as you were presented with your chance for revenge. Your step forward brought his attention to you. His eyes widened in fear. The animal was out of her cage.

Behind him, heavy footsteps approached. The door slammed open again, this time revealing a face that you never thought you’d get to see again. Blue eyes behind a dark skull. Your heart almost collapsed in on itself as you took him in. Even with the black paint around his eyes, you could tell that he was tired despite the rage.

Most of his anger melted away as Ghost saw you. Dehydrated and malnourished beyond belief. Bloody and sunken in. Eyes full of a mix of emotions that he wished he could ask about.

You looked back at your warden, shaking in his boots like a coward. This pathetic man that tortured you to the point of such weakness was now silently praying for mercy.

“Hold him down for me.” You ordered Ghost, your voice darker than the depths of the ocean.

He didn’t think you should be exerting yourself over anything, but he couldn’t bring himself to deny your order. You needed this. He wanted to give it to you.

A bullet hit Porakov’s knee, making sure he wouldn’t struggle too much for what you were about to do. As he screamed, Ghost settled himself in his office chair, tying him down with some spare duct tape he always kept on him.

You approached the desk, steadying yourself with your hands. Your left hand was beginning to feel numb by the second, nerves shredded like old newspaper after using both hands to work the saw. Your right hand was missing your pinkie finger.

“I’m going to make you wish you’ve never been born.” You simply stated, taking back up the bonesaw. Ghost silently watched you bring the serrated blades down on Porakov’s fingers, amazed that your desire for revenge was enough to give your body energy. He supposed that that was one of the things he missed about you. Your unwavering determination to see something through.

For this, you made sure to tune in in order to hear all the cries your warden had as you took all of his fingers. It was a sound you dreamed of hearing. This moment was what you’ve been waiting for.

Yet, your heart seemed to remain empty as you watched his fingers fall to the rug. You didn’t stop until all of his fingers were gone, but it all still felt so hollow. You thought if you could get your revenge, you would get your closure. So why wasn’t this as enjoyable as you thought it would be?

Sobs filled the space when you were done. The man you resented shriveled in his seat as he wept for his lost body parts. You clenched your jaw, feeling yourself fill with a cold, angry flame. “Lock him in the cell over there.”

“Wh-What?! Y-You can’t! What about food and water?!” He began to shout, squirming in his chair as Ghost rolled him into the cell. You were lucky that he couldn’t care less about doing the military-right thing. To both of you, this was the right thing to do.

“You are going to die cold, sad, and alone in that cell. I’ll guarantee it.” You promised, watching Ghost situate him in the far corner. He noticed the medical tools scattered around along with the metal medical table. The thought of you strapped down, screaming and losing pieces of your life with each cut made him want to beat the shit out of Porakov. But, it wasn’t what you wanted for him.

He left and closed the room before giving you space to lock it. As the both of you looked through the glass, taking one last sight of Porkav, you said your final goodbye. “Fuck you, Warden.”

Ghost followed behind as you began to leave, your adrenaline dying back down much faster than you expected. You were downright lethargic when you closed the door to the office, locking it behind you. “Break that shit. Make sure it will be locked for good.”

“Spi-”

“Now, Simon!” You snapped, not meaning to take your pain out on him. In response, he bit his tongue and followed your order. He just wished he could hear you call his name without so much hurt behind it.

As you heard him break the locking mechanism, you leaned against the wall, your vision swirling. Everything began to get hazy and dark, something pulling you into either death or sleep. You couldn’t fight it this time, your body exhausted from all the fighting you’ve spent months doing.

Ghost turned around as soon as he heard your body hit the floor, out cold. “Spite? Y/n?!”

He took you up in his arms and felt your pulse. Slow, but alive. He didn’t know where your blood began and enemy blood ended. You were so much lighter than what he remembered too.

It should’ve been him to get caught.

Carrying you in his arms, he radioed for evac. This time, you would get on that helicopter and be taken home, safe and sound. He would make sure of it.

You didn’t wake up for a while. A long while. By the time you did, you were a fraction into recovering from surgeries already. They fixed up your hand as best the doctors could, they got you on IVs and nourishment. They even had a dentist come in to replace any missing teeth.

The only thing they couldn’t fix or replace was your pinkie finger. That was something you had to live with for the rest of your life now. A constant reminder of what happened. At least you could wear certain clothes to cover up your numerous scars. It was impossible to comfortably hide a missing finger.

Ghost never left your room. Everyone took turns visiting you, even in your unconscious state. He stayed, though, the entire time.

He did everything for you that the nurses couldn’t. Making sure you were comfortable with blankets and pillow changes, making sure you had fresh flowers in your hospital room. He even played music he knew you liked, just in case you could somehow hear the world around you.

Anything to make up for being the one to take his bullet, he would do.

It was a sight for sore eyes when you finally opened them and saw him. Your throat was parched and sore, but you still spoke out to get his attention from a book he was reading. “Ghost?”

“Spite.” He immediately looked up. Jesus, you could cry. In fact, you did start to cry.

Tears began to travel down your cheeks. “I. . . I thought I’d never see you again. . .”

He took your right hand in his, a gesture that he has never done before, but not unwelcome. His hand was large, warm, and. . . perfect. “Me too, dove. We thought we lost you.”

“I did get shot in the head.” You justified, already trying to bring some easiness back with some dark humor.

Ghost missed your humor so much. It was easy to match. “You’ll have to show me how to do that party trick.”

You gave a short snicker. “You just gotta get a metal plate installed in your head. Wouldn’t recommend it, though. Hurts like hell.”

He finally gave a laugh, the first time since he lost you. Squeezing your hand tighter, he prepared the words that he actually wanted to say for when you woke up. “You took that bullet for me. It should have been me, but you took it. I-”

You interrupted him, already knowing where this was going. “Stop. You would’ve done the same for any of us. That’s what it means to trust each other with our lives. You don’t owe me shit for it, okay?”

Before Ghost could reply, the door to your hospital room opened. Your nurse stepped in with some new IV bags and blankets. She was taken aback as she noticed that you were awake. It didn’t take long for the doctor to rush in and for Ghost to get kicked out.

While he waited, he contacted the team to let them know that you were finally awake. They wasted no time in rushing over to see how you were doing, eager to see who they thought was dead. As soon as the doctor gave them the all clear, you were bombarded with the affection of your team.

For a moment, it made you forget about the horrors of your capture.

The fun was spoiled when the doctor came back into the room. The immediate question on everyone’s mind was regarding your stay.

“How long until I can get discharged?” You asked, eager to go back home without thinking too much about it. After the words left your mouth though, you realized that you probably didn’t have a home to go back to. Shit, all of your stuff was probably gone since you were declared dead. . .

“If everything goes smoothly, we can send you out tomorrow. However, you’ll need a lot of time to recover. We’re going to recommend physical therapy, some new medications, and a therapy recommendation. What you went through is something you should process with time. Do you have anyone that could help take care of you at home?”

You became silent and bit your lip. Before you were assumed to be dead, you didn’t really get along with your family. Knowing your family, they probably rejoiced over your death before immediately going over your will. You would’ve loved to be a fly on that wall.

And now that you were apparently still alive, you wondered how they would respond to asking for your stuff back. That was going to be something.

With no family, no home, and a list of things to do now that you were back, you began to get a headache. Just as you were about to explain the situation, though, Ghost chimed up.

“I’ll take care of her.”

Your eyes widened at the idea of Ghost being by your side for essentially twenty-four hours a day. “I already told you that you don’t owe me shit.”

He shook his head. “I’m not volunteering because of guilt.”

Now Price was the one to speak up. “It won’t have to be all on Ghost. We can take turns visiting and keeping an eye on you. Hell, we’ll take care of the hard tasks too while you recover.”

Feeling your headache become stronger triggered by new stress, you give up quickly. You were too tired to argue. “Fine.”

“Great! We’ll continue to monitor you and ensure you’ll be ready for discharge soon.”

You awkwardly waited in Ghost’s car as he prepared your wheelchair. Your legs were weak, but not unusable. For a brief moment, you argued with him about using a cane to help you walk. He was pretty insistent that you still took it very easy to the point that it was hard to say no.

Once he opened your car door, you got into the chair and looked up at the tall apartment complex. You wondered which floor was Ghost’s as he wheeled you in.

“You’ll be using my room while I sleep on the pullout couch. If you need help getting around anywhere, just ask. Price and Kate will visit later to discuss some options.” He explained as if he was going through a checklist.

“Options?”

He shrugged. “Job options. Living options.”

As he pushed you into the elevator, you began to panic. Job options? Did they intend on letting you go? Yeah, you were pretty fucked at the moment, but you just needed some time to get back in shape. You really don’t want to lose your job. Despite everything that happened, you still wanted to be part of the team.

With each ding of the elevator indicating a passing floor, you got more and more nervous. Ghost looked down at you, noticing how hard you were gripping your seat. His eyes couldn’t help but notice your missing finger on one hand and limp strength for the other. A sting in his chest had him look away.

He wasn’t letting you live with him out of guilt, but he was still sorry that this happened to you.

The elevator doors finally opened on the highest floor, revealing a long hallway leading to only a few doors. At the farthest end of the corridor, Ghost reached the apartment. A blast of refreshing A/C hit your senses first. The further he wheeled you in, the more you began to notice more.

His whole place was tidy and organized, a fact that contradicted what you remember about him. From what you remember, the guy was a mess. His desk at work was always crowded with paperwork, empty mugs of tea, and sticky notes meant to remind him on what to do next.

The sweet smell of pipe tobacco and vanilla spread across the environment, a few plug-in air fresheners scattered around. It made your anxiety melt as you became more familiar with the scent you used to smell everyday on Ghost.

He parked you near his polished dining table and placed a laptop in front of you. Your old laptop. “I’m gonna get some lunch started. I figure that you want some time to see what you missed?”

You nodded and booted up the laptop with your better hand. Your hand with damaged nerves needed some therapy focus before it could be fully functional again. “Thanks, Ghost. I appreciate this.”

“Of course.” He responded as he wandered off into his kitchen. A little window viewing the dining room allowed him to monitor you while he cooked. As we figured out what to make, he stared at you from a distance.

Color was returning back to your face. You were still light, but he would put some meat back on those bones soon. There was a shine back in your eyes that brought him back to those fun nights at the bar with you. He remembered your smile, your laugh, your gaze.

He remembered how you used to talk about cooking, one of your favorite things to do, whenever he had a moment alone with you. It was one of the things that made you light up. Ghost would sit there for hours, listening to you talk about what you’ve made, what you want to make, a new technique you want to try, how you should be in charge of the mess hall.

Deciding lunch, he shifted his focus on cooking, already predicting that it wasn’t going to be half as good as your cooking.

While you heard the sound of pots and pans clanging together, your hands ached. There was a phantom knife in your hand, waiting to start chopping vegetables that didn’t exist. For a moment, you willed your hands to move like you were entering prep-mode.

Your wrist quickly gave out within a few motions of pretend chopping. Not to mention that your left hand refused to curl your fingers in right.

When will you be able to cook like you did again?

When will everything feel normal again?

The knock on the door snapped you out of your pity party. Ghost answered it and directed Price and Kate to you, as promised. Kate gave you a pearly smile and Price gave you a warm pat on the shoulder.

They took their seats and then immediately dived into the grit. Ghost eavesdropped from the kitchen. “We don’t want to bullshit you, Spite. There are a lot of things that need to happen before you can return to your job. We can’t even give you desk duty until you do a few things first.”

You crossed your arms over her chest, not liking where this was going. “Like what?”

Kate passed over a manilla folder containing various paperwork sheets and tests. “First, we would need to interview you. Ask you about what happened while you were imprisoned.”

A scoff escaped your lips. “You wanna know if I opened my mouth about anything.”

“We know you didn’t and you never would. A team sent with us when we came to rescue you collected whatever evidence and intel they could get their hands on. They found recordings of your interrogations. We’re going through them now to make sure you kept certain things confidential.” Price reassured, already sensing that you were beginning to stress out.

You understood why it had to be done. It just made you sick to your stomach that your torture was being looked at solely for the purpose of checking to see if you were a good soldier. “Who’s reviewing the recordings?”

“Professionals. But they want your testimony too.” Kate vaguely elaborated, trying to move past this already.

You didn’t let up, though. Instead, you asked for something that shocked the both of them. Even Ghost who was chopping onions paused mid-cut. “Can I choose someone from the team to review them instead?”

“Why would you want that?”

“I don’t want a couple of strangers viewing something as intimate as my torture. I would rather have someone I know I can trust see those recordings.” You justified, not thinking much about the weight of that request.

Kate and Price looked between each other, silently debating on if they should honor your request. There was a concern of conflict of interest, but then again, the 141 got a few special privileges. Price cleared his throat. “Who would you want to see the recordings?”

The obvious answer should have been Kate, but it wasn’t. In fact, you really didn’t want Kate to look at any part of your torture. You didn’t even think she could stomach it. She was capable and tough like the rest of you, but she worked more from the shadows to save her from horrendous bloodshed.

There were only three people that you felt like could handle it. Price, Ghost, and yourself. Like hell they were going to let you see your own footage though. “Would you and Ghost mind?”

Price gave it some deep thought before nodding. “I can do it if that’s what you want. Ghost?”

Ghost wasn’t surprised that Price knew he was eavesdropping. “I’ll do it.”

Kate immediately closed that part of the conversation. “Well that’s that. Next, we have to retest you in multiple areas. Physical, mental, shooting range, the whole works. Some of the intelligence based tests can be done sooner, but the rest will have to wait until you are physically fit again.”

“That could take weeks.” You grumbled, already getting impatient with your recovery process.

“We have time. Outside of work tasks, anything that should take priority in your personal life. Besides the basics, of course.” Price switched topics, hoping that will brighten your mood a little.

You did like bossing them around when you had the chance. With a smirk, you began rattling off all the things you needed them to do for you. “Contact my lawyer and family. Gotta get that sorted out and hopefully get some stuff back if my folks haven’t tossed anything out yet. And if I don’t have to be the one to do it, the better. That’s probably the first major errand. Most of the other things will have to wait until the basics are done.”

“I do want my favorite brand of coffee here. Sorry, Ghost, but your coffee is shit.” You spoke a little louder, making sure that Ghost could hear you. Doing so made your throat already feel sore, but it was worth it when you got to here a chuckle back.

“Tell me how you really feel.” He smiled beneath the mask as he pushed the diced veggies into a large pot filled with chicken stock. The aroma of chicken soup was making you salivate.

Kate and Price eased up from your humor too as they added your coffee request to their list. After a few more minutes of chatter, they said goodbye so you could enjoy lunch. It was a good thing too because you were hungry and your voice was getting sore.

Ghost finished up the simple chicken noodle soup. Carrots, onions, celery, leftover shredded chicken melded together in a stock that was sure to be nutritious yet easy on your recovering stomach. When he served you a bowl, you nearly cried at how good it looked.

With a shaky hand, you lifted your spoon and took a taste. Before you knew it, you began to silently cry. Ghost, who returned to the table with his own bowl, began to panic at your tears. “It doesn’t taste good?”

“This is the best meal I’ve ever had.” You sobbed, recalling all of the shitty, bland food and starvation you had to deal with. To you, this simple chicken soup was heaven on earth.

Ghost didn’t know what to say, think, or feel for a moment. He didn’t expect such high praise, even if your reasoning was something he could guess. He settled for a proud, simple response. “Thanks. Take your time.”

Silently, you ate, savoring every ounce of flavor that graced your tastebuds. The egg noodles were perfectly al dente, the carrots were tender, and the chicken pieces were easy to swallow. Miraculously, it sparked a deep hunger for more food. But, you still needed to take it easy. If you ate the portion size you did before capture now, you would lose such a delicious lunch.

“Why did you choose me to review your footage?” Ghost suddenly asked, curiosity getting the better of him. He was content with watching you eat so gratefully, yet the memories of the conversation before lunch still haunted him.

Your hand stopped moving the spoon within the bowl. You didn’t expect him to ask something like that. Normally, he just followed orders. “I think you would handle seeing it better than others. Not gonna lie, there is probably some gnarly stuff on those tapes.”

His stomach twisted into knots at the mention. He would still do this for you, of course, but he probably wasn’t going to be as strong as you thought he was about it.

It was your torture after all.

Adjustment was going smoothly. There were some hiccups here and there, but you soon got used to Ghost taking care of you. He got used to relinquishing more control over to you as well. You quickly graduated to only needing a walking cane occasionally thanks to your dedication to physical therapy. Your hands needed more work, but at least you could get around the apartment with ease.

When you earned your achievement of free walking, you got more bossy and impatient. It was something Ghost was able to handle it since you delivered it with humor and hard work, but he soon began to notice dips in your mood here and there.

He has been adamant about sleeping on the couch while you took his room. Since you began walking, you have tried to change that sleeping arrangement to no avail. Everytime you looked at the couch, a brief flash of guilt went over your face.

He would catch you looking at your hands a lot, willing them to do more than just twitch and shake. Your brow would furrow in frustration when you practiced holding different movements and weights. Occasionally, you would hiss from pain as you tried to force progress. It became routine for him to end up holding your hands to make sure you gave yourself a break.

The other issue that was hard to resolve was your night terrors. Ghost thought his nightmares were bad, but they seemed like nothing compared to how you would scream in the middle of the night. It would always startle him awake. He would always rush to the door to calm you down. You would always tremble and cry in his arms.

You couldn’t go back to sleep unless Ghost was with you, his arms tight around your body and holding you close to his chest. The sound of his heartbeat became a lullaby that always made you regain your breathing.

The more he took care of you, the more he began to notice things about you. He was getting closer to you than ever before as he spent time with you every day. Sure, he was looking out for you, but it didn’t feel like a chore. Having you live with him became such a natural sight to him. It was like you always belonged there.

So it really unnerved him when he was finally called to review your footage.

You said goodbye to him when he left for base. For the first time, you were alone. Ghost gave you strict instructions to take it easy, forbidding you from certain activities while he was gone. However, you paid no mind to his warning, eager to normalize your life even more.

The feeling of the chef’s knife in your palm was a familiar weight that brought back so many memories. You had been wanting to get back into cooking earlier, but Ghost always scolded you and said you weren’t ready yet.

You planned on proving him wrong by cooking dinner for tonight. Something simple and comforting. Pasta with a homemade sauce.

Your dreams felt like they were shattering as you struggled to open the tomato can with the opener though. The strength it took made your hands ache almost immediately. Having the strength to push the weight of the blade down into the garlic was agony too. Even with a sharp knife, you were having such a hard time doing what was meant to be easy.

Only thirty minutes had passed after Ghost left when you ended up lying on the kitchen floor, crying for your hands to work again and for a life you lost.

Meanwhile, Ghost was just arriving on base. He wondered if you were doing alright. He hoped you weren’t pushing yourself while he was gone. Damn, he should’ve asked Gaz or Soap to watch you. He didn’t want to treat you like a child, but he knew you well enough that you were probably doing something you weren’t supposed to.

That’s how you got your call sign in the first place.

“Lieutenant Ghost, you ready?” Price ushered him into a secured, private room. Soundproof, dark, and void of any windows. Various tapes sat on a table next to a small TV. Ghost grabbed a chair and settled in, trying to relax as much as he can.

“Pay attention, try to stay unbiased, and keep this confidential. We can only talk about this with each other, Spite, and the investigation leaders.” Price ordered like a captain. Resolute and sharp. Despite the confidence in his voice, your captain was afraid. He didn’t want to see one of his best sergeants get tortured.

Ghost was trying to steel himself for it too. “Yes, Captain.”

With that, Price hit play and took the small seat next to Ghost. The footage began with the first day you were captured. You were stirring unconscious, strapped to a chair, and bleeding out of the side of your head where you got shot. The scene already had Ghost simmering with rage and sorrow.

He watched as you woke up, met your warden, and then immediately took a molar from you with swift punches to the jaw. He watched you spit the blood back in his face, growl threats he could never repeat, and then have your knees shattered with a sledgehammer.

It was clear that it hurt. That it was agony. The way your lungs gasped for air. The way you bit back your screams only to echo within your throat. The way you lost consciousness for a moment only to wake up from immense pain as they cut you.

And yet, you didn’t say a word. You never mentioned your name. Never revealed who you were with and why. You didn’t let anything get past your locked lips.

Porakov punished your resilience with more torture. Ten minutes in and it was already getting too much for Ghost to handle. How could anyone survive this? How did you?

His stomach turned as he watched the day you lost your pinkie finger. You were getting noticeably weaker and skinnier with each new day on the tape. Your knee was still healing. Porakov only took advantage of this as he pushed you around.

None of his questions got answers. Not a single one. Not even when the gardening shears pinched around your delicate finger.

Ghost almost threw up when he witnessed the final cut. You screamed, but you didn’t cry. You never did. At least, not in front of Porakov. It wasn’t until everyone left you in the cell that you let your pain turn into tears. And it absolutely broke his heart.

Feeling lightheaded, Ghost began to reach for the pause button on the TV. Price beat him to it, though. “I think that’s enough for today. Thought I could sit through what I allotted for this, but this is hard to watch. Even for me. Sorry, Lieutenant.”

After scheduling the next time to watch more footage, Ghost rushed back to his car to drive home. How could he have left you home by yourself after everything that’s been done to you?! You stayed optimistic and humorous most of the time, but there was no way you were really okay. No one would be okay if they went through what you went through.

There was still months of footage left to sift through.

Not caring about the risks of getting pulled over, Ghost sped along the highway leading back home. He began trying to call you, hoping that your new phone that the team got you was working fine.

When you didn’t answer, he tried again, the pit in his soul becoming darker and bigger. He shouldn’t have left you home alone.

He stopped trying after the tenth calling attempt. Instead, he focused on speeding faster. He got back to the apartment within record time. When he slammed the door open, he began looking for you.

His terror amplified as he found you on the kitchen floor, knife laying next to you and dinner prep unfinished. Your cheeks were stained with tears and your eyes were staring off into the distance. The light in your eyes was gone. Just like the day you ordered for your warden to be killed.

You didn’t remember when the panic attack started. Somewhere in the middle of your grief perhaps. It completely crippled you. Plunged you into such a horrible memory that you were desperately trying to forget. Your breath was stolen and your heart ached as if you pushed a knife into it.

Afterwards, you dissociated. You couldn’t register the cold tiles beneath you. You couldn’t remember what you were doing in the first place. You didn’t even hear your phone go off or Ghost rushing into the house.

Warmth stirred you back to the land of the living, Ghost’s arms wrapping tight around you. An unfamiliar sensation buried into the crook of your neck. The feeling of light stubble and shaky breaths. It was then that you realized that he had taken off his mask to bury his face into you.

Slowly, you wrapped your sore arms around his broad shoulders. The natural, sweet scent of you just made him feel the need to hold you tighter. Closer.

He never wanted to leave your side again.

“Is this hug for me? Or for you?” You half-joked, returning to your usual self with a sore voice.

His shoulders relaxed as he heard your question. Relief soon morphed into anger as he realized that you tried to do without him there. It was hard for him to keep his voice from rising. “I told you to take it easy. I thought something happened to you.”

You flinched back, not expecting to be scolded so soon. “I just thought-”

“The only thoughts you should be having is about recovering.” He pulled back from the hug, allowing you to really see his face up close.

You had only seen his face a couple of times before your capture. You had served with the 141 for under a year, so it made sense why you didn’t get to see it often. But now that you could really get a good look, your heart skipped a beat and a blush slowly crept along your cheeks.

His eyes were much brighter without the mask already. Flecks of black warpaint revealed blond lashes that matched his light locks. His jaw looked like it was carved from quartz and a few scars only gave character to his strong features.

Fuck, your old, childish crush on him was beginning to resurface at the worst possible moment.

You swallowed hard and averted your gaze. The hammering of your heart made it hard to figure out what to say next. “Sorry. . .”

Ghost gave a deep sigh, raking a large hand through his hair. Seeing the guilt in your eyes made him feel like he fucked up. He shouldn’t be making you feel like this. “No, Spite. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

Not only that, but seeing your tapes followed by you not answering the phone and then looking dead on the floor had him think the worst. Though, he wasn’t ready to saddle you with that burden. You needed comfort and stability.

Gently, he cupped your cheek, guiding your gaze back up to his. Your breath hitched as he did, his touch now feeling like electricity. “What were you trying to make?”

“Pasta. . .”

“You really want to get back into cooking?”

At that, you gave a firm nod. It would be something that would make you feel better. Normal. Even if it was just for a moment. You really needed to create something with your hands.

Ghost couldn’t deny you. Not when you made such a beautifully, determined expression.

Carefully, he stood up and helped you get back on your feet. The knife on the floor was put into the sink. A new chef’s knife was placed in your hand. Before you could ask what he was doing, he positioned you in front of the cutting board, stood close behind you to the point where your back was touching his chest, and he held his hands over yours. “Let me know if you start to hurt. You can lean back on me if you need it too.”

Now your heart was really racing. The whirlwind shift of emotions made you lightheaded. How could you switch from a panic attack to feeling lovesick? How could you still have a crush on him after all this time?

It took you a moment to relax under his touch and allow him to use your hands to cut the garlic. The heat of his chest seeped into your back as he cautiously guided the cooking process with you in the middle. When he spoke up, his voice so close to your ear, you nearly fainted. “You feeling alright?”

“Y-Yeah. . . I’m fine. Thanks, Ghost.” You stuttered out, feeling embarrassed by the proximity.

“You know, you can call me Simon when it’s just me and you, dove.” He allowed, feeling the heat of your own body rise against his chest. He couldn’t see your face clearly, but he could tell that your ears were turning red.

It stirred something deep within himself.

Your brain short-circuited when he gave you permission to use his real name. You had only used it when you needed him to understand your serious intentions. It wasn’t something you took lightly. Now, he wanted you to call him that more intimately.

At first, you didn’t know if you could bring yourself to do it. You couldn’t until you realized that all of the cloves of garlic were minced perfectly, your hands still able to take a little more cooking. “Seriously. Thank you, Simon.”

His heart leapt when you used his name like he wanted. “Of course, dove. Anything for you.”

Simon didn’t move an inch away from you until everything was ready to get tossed onto the stove. When the prep work was done, you had excused yourself to go rest, allowing him to finish dinner.

He let you go, but he really didn’t want to. He could never let you go now. Especially not when you were definitely blushing over him.

It wasn’t that you needed rest from cooking. You needed rest from Simon. A minute to get your heartbeat under control. This wasn’t like you. You were confident, resilient, strong, spiteful. Not gooey and bashful.

Only Ghost could make you feel this way.

You had a crush on him when you first met the team. It was the air of mystery that drew you to him first. His sense of humor, confidence, and intelligence that matched yours drew you in deeper. He had said that he was actually quite handsome under the mask, and you believed him during that time.

That’s all you tried to leave it at, though. A silly little crush. Being in the presence of a strong, muscular, and confident man would make anyone feel weak in the knees. That’s what you told yourself when you were stomping out your feelings for the sake of professionalism.

It worked too. After snuffing out that crush, you grew to be a friend to him. He trusted you more and you trusted him. There was nothing in the world that would make you trade over the friendship you had with him. With anyone on your team. It was the right thing to do at the time and it still was.

So why the hell were you falling in love with him all over again?

You chalked it up to being locked up for too long. Of course your heart would begin to sway towards Ghost. He’s been taking care of you and you’ve been living with him and he’s the first man you’ve been spending time with. Now that you realize this, snuffing out your feelings again shouldn’t be so hard.

Keyword: Shouldn’t.

Ghost made it really difficult for you to maintain some space from him. You have been adamant about healing through cooking. He’s been adamant about being with you every step of the way. Holding you between his arms in case you feel faint, guiding your hands when you don't have the strength, speaking directly into your ear when he wants to talk to you.

Everytime he came back from base, his clinginess increased tenfold. You knew that he was coming back from watching your footage. But you didn’t want to be pitied or the center of any guilt he may have.

“How are you feeling? Are you ready for your interview, dove?” Simon hovered near his bedroom door, watching you stare at your reflection in the mirror. You have been looking a lot better after these couple of months. You gained a wealthy weight, you were getting around much better, and some of your strength returned to your muscles.

It was still a ways to go before you could go out onto the field again, but it was a good start. Besides the night terrors that still haunted you, you were beginning to look like your old self.

At least, that’s what it looked like to him. You, on the other hand, were beginning to stress about how you looked. It felt good for your body to be getting back on the right track, yet you found imperfections. Things you had to be patient about such as your hair.

The doctors had to cut it in order to put a new metal plate back in your head. Your hair was growing back decently fast, but not fast enough to your liking. Besides the hair, you were covered in scars that weren’t fading anytime soon. Probably never with how deep they went.

“Dove?”

Simon snapped you out of your stupor. “H-Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m ready to go.”

“That’s not what I asked. You can talk to me about anything, you know?” Simon stepped forward, hoping to cure your sudden anxiety.

“Sorry, just a little distracted I guess.” You brushed off. It would be embarrassing to tell him how you felt ugly right now. The last thing you wanted to do was fish for compliments too.

Simon knew you were lying, but he dropped it. Instead, he followed you out of the apartment and drove you to the interview. On the way there, you let the radio fill the silence between the two of you.

He gripped the steering wheel tight, wondering why the hell you were so distant from him all of a sudden. The two of you were getting along great when you first arrived. Now, you were locking yourself up in his bedroom a lot more, speaking to him less, and had your head in the clouds when he was trying to talk to you.

Did he do something wrong? Make you feel bad about something? He thought you liked him.

The car pulled up onto the base, a place you haven’t seen for a long time. Everything looked like how you remembered. Military grays, greens, and browns. Recruits jogging around. The smell of cigarette smoke in the air. It almost seemed like nothing had changed.

Price greeted you halfway to the interview and then escorted you to it. It was the same room they used to examine your footage, the tapes finally over. You sat in a seat across from a woman in a business suit.

Price and Simon were ordered to stay out in the hall and wait. As they waited for you, Simon thought about getting back in your good graces.

“She alright? She seemed more quiet than usual on the walk.” Price suddenly spoke up, also curious about the trouble in paradise.

“Don’t know. She hasn’t told me anything about what’s been bothering her.” He confessed, an annoyed tone lacing with his words.

The captain hummed in thought. “Has she taken that offer to see a therapist?”

“Nope. Only the physical therapist. You think she needs it?”

“It wouldn’t hurt. I think it would be good for her to really unpackage everything that went down before we put a gun back in her hands. Someone that’s a professional.”

Simon gave it some thought. As much as he wanted to be the one you turned to to talk about your feelings, he agreed that you would most likely feel better talking to a professional. He wasn’t necessarily equipped to provide both comfort and trauma solving.

Hell, he probably needs therapy too.

He figured that he would suggest the idea when the two of you return home. Let you sleep on it.

You exited the room after about an hour. The interview took much longer than you expected, but they were thorough. No detail was to be left unspoken. It was a wonder how you managed to talk about everything that happened without breaking down. Perhaps it was because you did really want your job back. The more capable you seemed, the more likely they would give it to you.

After a quick stop visiting Gaz and Soap, Simon took you back to the apartment. You entered the space so naturally that it felt like it was your home. Simon even let you buy some decor to make the place more comfortable for you that you could take to your new apartment, whenever that would be available.

Before Simon could invite you to sit on the couch with him for a moment to talk, you had already closed the door to the bedroom. The interview left you tired. It was still taking a while to get your voice used to talking again.

As you crossed the space, you noticed your reflection in the mirror. You looked the same from when you left. Maybe a little bit more exhausted, but still the same, unflattering body you wished was completely back to normal already.

There was a soft knock on the door. You didn’t register it as you just sat on the floor, looking at your reflection and wondering what you could do to make yourself feel pretty again. Since you didn’t answer, Simon slowly opened the door.

“Dove? What’s wrong?” He cautiously asked, not wanting to startle you.

You gave a deep sigh that even he felt in his soul. “Just. . . missing the me from before.”

His shoulders felt lighter in relief. He was so glad that you were talking to him again. However, It was souring quickly now that your words were settling in. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. . . I guess. . . I thought that I was decently pretty before. I was happy with how I looked. . . I don’t really see that anymore.” You tried to explain, feeling your throat begin to choke on each word. God, you felt stupid.

Simon could hardly believe it. To him, you were still the prettiest lady he’s ever met. Your smile made his day brighter. Your hands felt warm and perfect in his. Your eyes were works of art he could stare into all day.

He was in love with you.

“W-What?” Your face grew red, not understanding why he was staring so intensely at you. So seriously. It’s been a while since you’ve faced him this close. Did he think you were being dumb too?

He took a seat behind you on the floor and pulled you into his lap. An arm snaked across your stomach before you could escape. His other hand guided your chin to look back into the mirror. “Take a good look at yourself again, dove. Don’t tell me that you’re not pretty anymore because it’s not true.”

Your heart was going to burst from your chest. If you stay like this with him for much longer, it would be impossible to destroy your feelings for him. “Si-”

“Your cheeks are turning pink. Are you getting embarrassed?” He tightened his hold and deepened his voice. He would do anything to make you feel attractive again. Including revealing that he was attracted to you.

As he pointed out your blush, you only reddened deeper. “T-This is because you surprised me!”

“Oh? It’s not because you like me?” He teased, not being able to help himself. Before everything, you were so confident and enthusiastic at work. He never got to see your bashful side. It was incredibly cute.

You froze in his lap as he revealed your secret. How long has he known?! Was he just toying with you right now?! This was not how you imagined a confession going at all, not that you ever really planned on confessing.

Turning your head to face him directly, you attempted to dig out of the hole you were in. “Simon-”

“You’re too cute.” He suddenly admitted before pressing his lips firmly against yours. He lost control as soon as he saw your expression up close within his lap. The way your brows furrowed, how your ears turned more pink by the second, how you called him by his name.

There was no way in hell he was going to make you feel unattractive right now.

Startled by the kiss, it took you a moment to realize what was happening. When your brain did kick back into gear, you could hardly believe it. Simon was kissing you. Not just that, but he was kissing you so deeply that it made you melt.

You couldn’t possibly fight back your feelings for him now.

Eventually, you began kissing him back. When he felt your effort, he took that as a good sign to keep going. Your lips were so soft and warm against his. Your weight in his embrace felt perfect. His tongue swiped at your lips and then plunged into your mouth to taste even more of you.

You softly moaned into his mouth, electricity firing all along your nerves. His muscular, strong chest against your back made you feel hot all over. His tongue that aimed to taste every inch of you did just that. A sensation you haven’t felt for what felt like decades began to spread throughout your pelvis.

His hand guided your gaze back to the mirror in front of you, your own expression making your breath hitch. Cheeks pink, lips swollen, chest rising and falling rapidly. The bottom of your shirt was a little hiked up, exposing just an inch of waist that drove Simon wild. “See, dove? You’re perfect.”

He held your chin in place, forcing you to watch as he trailed kisses along the side of your neck. His free hand slipped under your shirt, feeling skin that now matched his. You gasped and shivered as he felt you up, feeling his hand travel further up until he reached the bottom wire of your bra. The kisses mixed with tongue and teeth against your neck made you whimper in excitement.

“You’re still soft to the touch. Still warm and living. How I see you hasn’t changed. You are still the same pretty woman I grew to like so much.” He sweetly confessed into your ear as he stripped off your shirt.

Simon liked you too? Since when? Mental questions faded away as you noticed him unsnap your bra to reveal your breasts. Your hands instinctively went to cover them up, but he caught your wrists in his hand.

“No, dove. I gotta show you just how attractive you are. Keep looking at your pretty little face in the mirror.” He playfully smirked, loving this new side of you more than he imagined. His cock was already pressing against the fabric of his pants, getting bigger by the second.

With your wrists still held together, he began to massage your breasts. The other side of your neck was shown some love through feverish kisses, making you squirm in his lap. You could feel his growing erection pressed behind you, making your pussy tingle with need. When he pinched a nipple tight, you let a moan slip.

As he dragged his tongue along your neck, he watched the pleasure on your face through the mirror. His pants felt tighter by the second, eager to really show you just how attractive you were to him.

Limbs felt like jelly as he continued to tease you. When your wrists felt more slack in his grip, he let go to use both hands. You sat in his lap, melted and shivering as he played with both of your nipples. “You’re so sensitive. It’s really turning me on, dove.”

You pressed your legs tighter together, feeling your wetness slowly stain your panties. Simon’s strong chest rose with his labored breath, cock now aching with pain from the restriction of his clothes. He wanted more. He wanted to see every inch of you.

He guided your legs to spread for him, making sure that your pussy would be clear as day through the mirror. You debated fighting back before things went too far, but his hands on you felt incredible. You were so turned on too, despite feeling embarrassed about how weak and bashful you looked.

In one move, your pants and panties were gone, revealing your slick cunt for both you and Simon to see. Instinctively, you tried to close your legs. However, Simon made sure that you didn’t. He made sure you looked at the mirror too. “Take a good look, dove. So wet for me. . . So pretty. Pink. Soft. Never seen something so delicious before.”

His large fingers began to rub through your folds, spreading your wetness around easily. His eyes grew feverish as he spread you open, feeling the pulse that traveled through you.

You gasped as he started rubbing your clip in slow, deep circles. Almost two years of abstinence made you sensitive beyond comprehension. “Ah~! Simon~!”

“That’s right, dove. Don’t stop looking at yourself.” He instructed, his voice so deep that it echoed in your head. Lightning zipped through you as he continued to tease your clit, another hand going back to your hard nipples.

God, Simon was so good at this. He was reading you like a book, noticing every flinch, every scrunch, every tremble that flashed across your face. He was getting to know all your sweet spots. Every piece of you that begged for more.

Your hips bucked as his finger on your cunt slid down close to your entrance. Through the mirror, you saw him smirk, making your heart leap. “Patience. I’ll give my dove what she wants as long as she keeps looking at herself. Promise.”

Gently, he worked his fingers inside of you, feeling just how hot you really were getting for him. He suppressed his own shiver as he felt you tighten up, sucking his fingers in deeper. You clung on to his arms and moaned, throwing your head back against his shoulder in pure bliss.

Grabbing your chin, he made you watch yourself get fingered. “Don’t look away.”

You had no choice but to follow your instructions. Kisses peppered your neck, making sure you didn’t have the space to turn your head away again. You watched his fingers pump in and out of you, more of your natural honey drooling out of you.

“Ahh! Mnn~!” A loud moan escaped you as you felt his fingers curl to hit that perfect, spongy spot that drove you crazy. Your reaction was instant, your pussy tightening further and tremors traveling through every nerve. Simon could feel and see it. You were getting close to an orgasm. And he really wanted you to reach it.

“That’s it. Watch yourself cum for me, dove.” He praised, moving his fingers more powerfully to make sure you wouldn’t lose that pleasurable high.

It was beautiful watching you moan and drool and shutter in his lap. It was so sexy how you looked at the mirror with feverish eyes like you wanted more than just his fingers. He wanted to use more too. But not before you came.

Simon put more pressure on your g-spot, not caring that you were making such a huge mess all over his hand. All he wanted to do was go deeper, so deep that his palm was pressing into your throbbing clit.

That is what made you see stars. With a scream, you were plunged into an orgasm that made you stupid. Simon smirked with pride as he held you during your climax, feeling just how tightly you clung to his fingers. He loved that blissful expression on your face while you came. Corners of your eyes brimming with tears, blush swept across your cheeks, body glowing with excitement.

“Didn’t I tell you? Absolutely gorgeous.” He complimented, giving you soft kisses on the side of your head as you calmed down. It was still hard to breathe, your heart beating erratically from the climax and from Simon’s husky praises. When he pulled his fingers away, you whimpered from the sensitivity.

Carefully, you were removed from his lap and laid down in front of him. While you took a moment to rest, Simon grabbed a few pillows from his bed, tossed them to the floor, and then stripped. At the sight of his strong build, you swallowed some drool.

It was strength made to be used. Muscular and soft in all the right places. His own body was covered in old scars, something that made him alluring rather than flawed. And then when your eyes traveled down to his huge, throbbing cock, you felt that familiar tingle take over again.

“Like what you see?” He teased, situating the pillows under you so you could be more comfortable. The head of his dick prodded at your folds, lubing itself up. As he slid along your folds, rubbing your sensitive, red bud, you lost your breath again.

“Simon. . .” You called out in what you hoped sounded like a warning rather than begging. God, you wanted him inside you already. You wanted to feel every inch of him fuck you like you were the most sexy woman on the planet.

He chuckled a little, your tone a mixture of scolding and impatience. A perfect tone that made him want to fuck you hard already. But, he held back. For now at least. Instead, he turned your head to make you look at your reflection again. Slowly, he entered you, feeling your hot pussy cling to him like it was made for him.

Your expression immediately morphed as he slid his cock inside you deeper. Eyebrows scrunched, vision hazy, plump lips bitten. He was thick. Incredibly thick. You’ve never been so filled up before. It hurt a little, but pain was quickly replaced with pleasure as you got used to it.

Simon gave a satisfied sigh when finally reached the base. It was a sight to behold, your tight pussy stretched to accommodate him. It felt so good inside you. Hot. Slick. His thrusts were slow and deep, watching every reaction you had as you felt every inch of him. It only turned him on even more as he made you watch.

His hands clutching your hips to control the pace had you tremble. You loved how he was careful, yet still wanted to manhandle you. There were moments where you could see him lose his cool for a second. A shuddered breath here, a swallowed groan there. His own expressions as he fucked you deep is what really turned you on the most.

“Fuck, dove. You’re so tight~” He exhaled, picking up the pace with his thrusts. Your toes curled and your back arched as his cock hit every pleasure point within you. It was perfect how he was large and skilled enough to reach every spot you liked. And it was all thanks to how closely he paid attention to you.

His body pressed against yours as he felt the need to be closer to you. He wanted to see your pretty face up close when you cum next. He wanted to feel those beautiful tits pressed flush against his own skin. When he felt you tighten, he knew you were getting close.

You hung onto him tight, wrapping his arms around his neck and digging your nails into his back. It was incredible feeling his muscles flex with each thrust under your hands. Everything felt so good with him. You never thought you would feel pleasure like this again.

Simon hissed as you clawed his back, a blissful sensation that only left him wanting more. He pistoned harder, hoping that your nails would leave new scars on him. “I can feel you getting close. Look into my eyes when you do.”

Moans gradually turned into screams as he fucked you as deep as he could go, his cock throbbing hard with his own desire to climax. Hearing you scream his name was turning him on more than he thought. So much so that he began calling out yours.

Hearing your own name from his lips with such a desperate tone made the wave crash down. Looking deep into his eyes, you came around him. Every part of you trembled, electricity taking over. It felt like every cell within you was screaming for him. His breath hitched as you tightened and soaked him. And god, the way you looked while cumming. . .

He held you tight as he felt himself climax too, hot ropes adding to the heat. Your back arched as he gave a few final pumps, milking himself out in you as much as he could. It was hard to control your shutters when he enjoyed the final moments of having you. When he did pull out, it left you feeling empty, yet satisfied.

Knowing that you were feeling weak, Simon carried you to his bed and laid you down. You were surprised when he crawled into the spot next to you and pulled you into his chest like he was holding a lover. Was that what you two were now? Lovers?

“Like I said before, you’re perfect.” Simon praised and kissed the top of your head.

You two were definitely lovers. All the doubt cleared as you listened to his heartbeat.

#cod fanfic #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley fanfic #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost x female reader #ghost x f!reader #ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon riley #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2

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sook9i · 4 months ago

Text

— NAKED IN MANHATTAN

⋆｡°✩ After a drunk conversation leads you to question your feelings for your bandmate and friend, Hueningkai, maybe a night together in Manhattan is just what you need to clear the air.

. . . GENRE ! Hueningkai x reader | smut | fluff | friends to lovers

. . . CONTAINS ! virgin!kai, virgin!reader, 6th member!reader, afab!reader, talks of virginity, mentions of alcohol and alcohol consumption, swearing, loss of virginity, unrealistic first time? (not that i would know), no established dynamics, fingering, protected sex 🙏, some aftercare, a little too much foreplay, consent checks, kinda just porn with plot, the other members tease them about their virginity (don’t do that)

. . . WORD COUNT ! 4660

. . . NOTES ! i’ve been writing this for,,,literally ever and i’m so glad it’s finally done !! this is inspired by naked in manhattan by chappell roan however considering that it’s a sapphic love song i’m still kinda unsure if i’m going to keep the title of it for this fic. if anyone has any opinions let me know!! anyways i hope you enjoy!!

. . . ADMIN ! written by callie 😼

Bright lights twinkle across the floor like stars. You can’t see the real stars up in the sky, but you make do with the high-rises lighting up the horizon. Cars beep and blare their horns stories below you. This sweet symphony fills the cold, empty hotel room like a lullaby. However, it isn’t really empty. You’re there, staring out across the Manhattan skyline. Kai’s there, just there behind a closed door in the bathroom. Bare only for the comforting hot water of the shower he was in. He’s there, racing through your thoughts like always. Around and around; an ever-looping track of vice. This boy, your friend, your bandmate, driving you crazy just by standing beyond a wall.

This isn’t exactly how you imagined spending a night in New York City. The rest of the boys took full advantage of the free night. Taehyun had wanted to explore, last you heard he was in Time Square. Beomgyu and Yeonjun had gone out to get some dinner and god only knows where they ended up, now five hours later.

Soobin, on the other hand, was the reason you ended up in this position. Having approached you after your radio show taping and apologetically begging you to let him have the single hotel room for the night. And how could you say no? You cared for your members, and your leader especially seemed like he could use a night with just himself. He was probably spread-eagle on the hotel bed, 5-steps deep into his skincare routine right now, and watching whatever show he’s been raving about for the past week; probably having the time of his life. However, when you agreed to give up your room, you failed to think about the implications. You didn’t consider that you’d now be rooming with whoever Soobin had left behind. You didn’t even think about how he usually roomed with Hueningkai. Not a single thought passed through your head, except sweet old sympathy for your leader. Now, you were considering disavowing kindness for the rest of your life because of where that nice gesture landed you.

You heard the water shut off in the bathroom like the final clock strike right before midnight. Face embarrassingly hot, you keep your back to the door as it opens. New light slants across the floor, fluorescent and harsh. It mingles with the soft rush of humidity into the room and claws at your pajamas. Begging you to turn, to look, to face the perpetual inhabitant of your dreams. You tried to ignore the way your heart sped up simply hearing him shuffle around behind you. Still, your blood ran hotter, building up in your cheeks and neck.

You’ve had your fair share of innocent crushes over time, including the one you’ve harbored for Huening over the past 4 years. However, none ever left you feeling like this. This disoriented, this flustered, this desperate despite actively trying to dismantle your feelings for months now. He’d manage to send you tumbling back down, head over heels, in one quick night. Just the thought of his voice, the way the words came to him so easily, kept you spiraling.

The night’s high spirits had long settled down. Celebrating the start of your world tour with drinks and food had kept the mood quite energetic. Now, spread out on the dorm floor, nursing a half-empty soju bottle, you find yourself prattling off to silence.

“Sooo…what are you guys most excited for in America?”

Yeonjun snorts from the couch above you, “You sound like every American interview we do.”

“Okay, well…you can be like 100% completely honest with me.”

“I wanna try some cool food and drinks or something.” Beomgyu jumps in, “Like the themed ones from specialty bars that people always post.”

The oldest hums in agreement, “It would be pretty nice to go out one night.”

“We’re in New York for a few days, I’m pretty sure we have an open night there.” Soobin pipes in, curled up in the couch corner.

“Maybe I’ll go visit the Lego store.”

A sudden chorus of laughter erupts at your words. Struggling to sit up, you frown at all the amused faces now in view.

“What’s so funny, assholes?”

“Y/nnie, you should get out more.” The words coming from Beomgyu were almost hypocritical.

“You’re one to talk! And, yeah, that’s why I’d go shopping.”

“We mean, like, get out and meet people. A different country is a great place for that, especially for us.” Taehyun sits in an armchair taking a slow sip from his can, “Go out, have a fun night, and just make sure they sign an NDA afterwards.”

Another round of laughter strikes up and it dawns on you what they’re actually talking about. Your face feels hot and a pout stretches on your lips.

“You guys all suck! I told you, it’ll happen when it happens.” You cross your arms, almost whining like a child, “Why don’t you ever tease Huening about this? I’m not the only virgin in the group!”

Yeonjun snorts, “Damn, way to throw Kai under the bus.”

“Wait, no,” You frantically turn your head around to his seat behind you. “Huening, I didn’t mean-”

He breaks a small smile, “It’s okay, Y/n, I get what you meant.”

“We’re, like, virginity pals.” You stupidly bump your shoulder into his which elicits a very awkward laugh.

“Let’s talk about something else.”

Beomgyu is quick to the draw, immediately beginning to ramble on about his latest meet-up with Jeongin. You don’t get a chance to catch much of it as lips brush along your ear.

“You know, if you ever want to fix that, you can just ask me.” His voice is low and even, his breath leaves goosebumps along your neck. The words swim up and around your head, wiping away some of the haze; snapping you into a brief sense of clarity to process what he just said. You feel your heart almost sputter to a stop. Unable to choke out a response, you turn to look at him only to find cold air. Huening is up and away in the kitchen getting another drink, leaving you alone and flustered. Caught in his words’ web like a helpless fly.

They’ve been plaguing you since their utterance 5 days ago. Orbiting your brain like an ever-present moon. Driving you so far up the proverbial wall that, once you come back down, you will surely die on impact. You’ve never felt this confused, wondering if he meant what he said, if he even remembered it. Perhaps you were driving yourself insane over something inconsequential to him. How were you going to survive this night?

“You wanna watch a movie?”

So easily, he has you trapped. You have to face him, face this, and act completely normal. Act like your thoughts haven’t been full of him; the things you’d let him do to you and the things you’d do to him in return. Act like the way water drips from the edges of his hair, tracing his bare collar, isn’t driving you mad. Wet spots decorate the thin, white shirt stretched across his shoulders. It sticks to the vaguely visible skin trailing down his torso. A pair of sweatpants hang dangerously low off his hips, you struggle to bring your eyes away back up to his face. There his face is soft, head tilted and eyes crinkled, expecting an answer. You want to shrivel beneath his sweet gaze.

“I-um, yeah, sure. W-what movie?”

“Oh, I don’t really know. I was just going to see what’s streaming, maybe order some room service.” He drops a laptop onto his bed. Crawling atop the sheets, he flips it open and looks back at you. Waiting, expectant. His hand softly pats the duvet beside him and you have nowhere to run.

The sheets are standard fare for a hotel and the mattress is stiff as you sit. You’re practically almost hanging off the edge trying to keep a safe distance from Kai. If your skin so much as brushed his, you’d be broken. You weren’t willing to risk bumping knees. If he thinks it odd, he doesn’t say anything. Looking at the screen, he’s now scrolling through a bunch of movie options. Title after title flys by. Two of his fingers push along the mouse pad. The muscles of his hand twitch with every movement; veins shifting, knuckle tucking in and out. From fingertip to wrist his hands are huge, probably enough to completely cover your face. His fingers especially, are very long, so thin-cut and delicate. It can only make you wonder just how deep they could reach. If he knew how to really use them.

You feel your brain melting into a cesspool of depravity the longer you’re around him. Squeezing your eyes tight, the thoughts barely dissipate. Although, you’re granted a small peace as he picks your mind with something else.

“How about Spider-man?”

“Hm?” Peeking back at the screen, his cursor had landed on a Spider-Verse movie. Although, you didn’t really know which one. Your head feels so cotton-stuffed, you simply nod without a thought. So he clicks on the card to play. Opening credits roll in and you fall further into the static. This movie should’ve been the perfect distraction, something exciting and enjoyable. However, the soft heat of the boy curled beside you permeates your skin like a fever. It’s no use, you can’t fight the speed of your heart. The blood rush through your ears takes up everything in the room. Eyes, laser focused to the laptop screen, yet mind somewhere far away. So far you don’t notice the sound of the movie stopping suddenly.

“Y/n?”

Kai’s knee softly bumps yours as he faces you. It’s like a lightning strike right to the chest. Heartbeat rocketing, your words get jumbled. “Wha-um-what?”

“I…Is something wrong? Did I do something?” He avoids eye contact, hands twisting up.

“N-no, no-um, Huening…what’s up?”

“I just…I feel like you’ve kinda been avoiding me? His eyes slowly drag up to your face. “Like, you won’t even look at me.”

All you can hear is the blood rushing over your chest and cheeks, it’s all you can see as well. Kai’s eyebrows are knit together in an expression that should not be nearly as hot as your overdriven brain thinks it is. The words jumble up in your throat, a 4-year confession and a week-long confessional-in-the-making. Your brain goes blank. Everything seems to spill out.

“I-I’m not…upset. I’m-Kai-it’s um, just…do…do you remember that conversation we had…like the night of the first show?” Your stomach twists, ready to eat itself up in embarrassment.

“Um, maybe…” His eyes flit around as if trying to grasp the memory from the air. Brows draw in tighter before he stills. A chill settles between you two. His face explodes in Saharan heat. “Oh god.”

The realization fills up the room with its horrible heated mortification. Your head hangs, guilt pooling in your lap.

“Oh-oh god, Y/n, I’m so sorry! I’m so so sorry! I should’ve never said that, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I’m so sorry-”

“No-no, you-you didn’t. I just-” You bury your head in your hands. Your cheeks burn the skin like a radiator, your heart feels like a supernova. The room is caving in on you. This wall you’d built up, a protective shell around your fragile heart, crumbled. The words taste sour on your tongue. “Did…did you mean it…what you said?”

Silence sinks into your bones, shriveling under the weight of your humiliation. You can’t bring yourself to look at Huening. You want to run, hide, jump off the roof, but you're stuck to the mattress; to the darkness of your eyes; to his sharp intakes of air.

“I did.” An angry red flush covers his face and a pillow now covers his lap. His voice and eye contact remain steady, nonetheless.

The room is too small, too hot. You need to crawl out of your skin and cool off, but the words just keep coming.

“S-so…if I wanted to-um-take you up on your offer…”

Your hands fist the sheets fitfully, you can’t meet his eyes beneath the weight of your shame. This is all you have thought about for the past week, and, suddenly living in your fantasy, you feel like a creep.

The touch of soft fingertips brushing over your jaw jolts to your already frayed nerves. He turns your gaze up to his. Something deep and unfamiliar has settled in his eyes; a darkness that bores right down into that depraved nest in your heart.

Somehow, his voice keeps calm, “Can I kiss you?”

“Please-“ You can't finish the word before you’re silenced. Smooth, honey plush lips blanket yours, like something out of a daydream. The first sensation to hit is his taste: mint toothpaste and vanilla chapstick; you have to fight the urge to bite at his lip for more. Your crossed-knees touch, bodies leaning forward to meet in the middle. Your noses knock and bump awkwardly before you settle into a rhythm. He borders an intense line between inexperienced eagerness and hesitant care. Keeping your hands firm at your sides, unsure how to move, he runs his fingers up and over your arms, coaxing them to cradle the nape of his neck. In turn, he does the same.

He unravels you. The rigid rod holding back your shoulders dissipates; fingers curl into the soft, still damp hair at the base of his neck. A sigh pulls at your lips as you lose yourself to this building heat. Slowly, inhibition slips away. You find yourself moving with an unprecedented fervor. Kai leans further into you, tilting your head back to his will, nails scratching deftly at your scalp. A conflicting pain trembles over your skin, swirling with an untapped pleasure until the two are indistinguishable. He pulls a jolting gasp from your chest. The sound which follows, you can only categorize as embarrassing. A strangled sort of noise; something long built-up, catching in your throat and struggling out in a breathy whine. Your face flares up, you wanna disappear as Kai pulls away slightly. Softly, his breath hitches. Creaking open your eyes, you’re met with a sight that almost drags the sound out again.

Kai’s eyes, half-lidded and dark, bore down on you, haloed with pink, heated cheeks. His lips are kiss-bitten red and glossy. A wet dream come true. You tug him back to your lips, a new heat building in the kiss.

You aren’t sure who makes the first move, who bites first, but when his tongue pushes up against yours, you succumb fully to this new feeling filling you up. An unfamiliar greed beats in your chest, a rabid craving for more. More and more sounds mingle between both of you, unabashedly. With every sweet whine of Kai’s, the hunger grows. Your fingers tug at his hair, his press hard into your waist. Air is inconsistent and unnecessary.

“Kai-” Lips keep moving against yours. “More.”

“Can I-”His hands fumble around your waist a bit, mouth still keeping in time. “Your shirt.”

You begin nodding without even thinking about it. Finally, you break from each other. His hands hike your shirt up your chest before you peel the rest off. You move to do the same for him but he’s already ahead of you. His shirt comes up and over his head before being tossed alongside yours. The porcelain skin of his chest lays out before your eyes. Heart beat picking up, you trace each ridge and jut and mole back up to meet his gaze, one just as entranced as you are.

As your lips meet again, they move with much more care. Something deep and unspoken swimming on your lips and stirring up your chest. Fingers drift gently over freckles and goosebumps running up both your sides. Your back melts into the mattress; Huening’s intoxicating touch burning up your brain. His hands glide up and circle your chest softly. Brushing the sensitive, supple skin, more whimpers tumble out. Your hands copy his, nails dragging faintly down his soft stomach. His lips shudder against yours, breathing groans over your tongue. Knees sit on either side of your hips, keeping Kai’s body hovering precariously over you. The tantalizing promise of his weight above you draws your fingers lower. Just a fingertip dipping into the waistband of his sweatpants. The hitch in his breath is slight.

The kiss disconnects once again as you look at each other, drinking in the sight. His hair mused back wildly and eyes blown wide, a million emotions fly between you. Keeping your eyes locked, that curious hand of yours hesitantly slips from its place. Pulling out of Kai’s waistband, it snakes atop the fabric, coming to cup the prominent bulge beneath it. Your heart stutters at the heavy feeling of him in your hand. Kai’s eyes widen infinitesimally. Your curious fingers squeeze softly and you watch as the last bits of his composure crumble. Head dropping into your neck, his moan is guttural and desperate. His hips buck further into your palm and it becomes incredibly apparent just how big he is

“God-y/n, please…” The desperation with which he speaks your name, the whine and groan and guttural need pouring from his throat, finally breaks you.

For a moment, the only thought running through your head is how quickly you can get his sweatpants off. He seems to be thinking the same as his fingers pluck at your own waistband. However, as you’re about to give in, something stops you.

“Kai…” Embarrassment floods your face, “Do you…have a condom?”

His eyes widen, jaw dropping softly. A subtle red paints his cheeks as he slowly crawls off your body.

He awkwardly shuffles over to his bag on the floor before pulling out a small box of condoms. “I-I wasn’t, like, planning on using them. Or anything…Yeonjun-hyung put them in my bag…”

“Well, thank god for Yeonjun, I guess.”

Laughter eases the embarrassed tension as he rips open the packaging. Although he hesitates to take out the latex. You eye the clothes still covering both your bottom halves.

“I-I can…take mine off first. If you want?”

He matches your gaze, moving back towards the bed, “Are you-Do you want this? Like, 100%?”

“Yes.” Your head nods before you can even think about it, “Yeah, I-I do. Do you?”

“Yes.”

Leaning up, your lips meet his in a soft, sweet kiss. You slowly take his hand in yours and move it back down to your hip, to the bare skin beneath your waistband. Then, you tug your shorts down with his fingers. Finally, fully unclothed, you muscle through the timidity to open your eyes. The pure reverence in his face nearly calms your beating heart.

“Kai, please. Touch me.”

Huening makes quick work of his own bottoms. They pool at his ankles though your eyes are glued to the way his cock smacks against his stomach. He rolls the smooth latex down his skin and your eyes follow with a shiver. Even with little-to-no frame of reference, you’re all too aware that he’s big. Standing at the edge of the bed, towering over you, he is just as entranced with you as you are with him. Any room for embarrassment melts away into an unrelenting need.

You yank him back and his lips messily onto yours; tongues mingling and meshing. His fingers wisp up your bare thighs, sparking a lingering electricity. Your mouth lands on his neck with kisses and kitten licks. The breathy groan you pull from him with a soft bite sounds like heaven. Hands move further toward the inside of your thighs, brushing over your core. He fumbles for a moment before you reach to take his hand in yours. Awkwardly, you guide two slender fingers up to your clit, starting them in a circle motion. Your back arches into the feeling, head sinking into the pillows. Huening watches your reactions diligently, slowly gaining more confidence in his movements. The fingers slip away from the nub as one of them trails down to cautiously push into you. It takes a moment for the odd stretch to settle and melt into pleasure, but as your hips buck into his hand, Kai takes the hint. He uses his thumb to keep circling your clit while experimentally curling two fingers against your walls. This foreign pleasure is overwhelming and not enough.

“I-is this okay?”

Your voice feels stuck so you nod enthusiastically, eyes screwed tight. Fingernails dig into Kai’s scalp as you frantically pull him back to your lips. You work your tongue over his lips and onto his. Running your teeth down his jaw into the juncture of his neck, you litter the skin with soft bites. Lost in the pleasure, your movements feel crazed; desperate. That ever-looming climax is so close yet so far. You need it, like oxygen.

“Need more. Need you, please-please, Hyuka-”

Emptiness only fuels your desperation. Kai’s hips shift squarely over yours as his hand moves up between your bodies. His hard cock brushes your oversensitive thighs; the fog in your mind thickens. In the haze, you take Huening’s, now messy, hand into your mouth, licking over the fingers and tasting yourself on them. They tickle at the back of your throat, freeing a pleased hum.

Kai’s poor cock twitches against your leg and his chest stutters as you keep two lidded eyes on his. The fingers slip from your lips with a slight pop. His agape mouth falls onto yours, devouring your taste on your own tongue. That spit-slick hand guides his weeping tip down through your folds. It catches on your clit and teases your entrance. A gasp breaks your mouths apart. Kai’s fluttering breaths paint your cheeks.

“I-I’m gonna…can I…?”

“Hyuka, just fuck me. Please.”

“Oh-okay-uh, tell-tell me when to move.”

With a deep breath, his hips begin pushing into yours. The stretch sets in; a fire rippling between your legs. Like being ripped apart while still getting stitched back together. A contradicting pain, spreading slowly with Kai’s hesitation. He breathes sickly sweet whimpers into your ears and cradles your hands with his. They mingle in the sheets; an echo of heaven. It’s nearly enough to distract you from the pain as he bottoms out.

“F-fu-shit-ah…you-you’re so…” His forehead hits your shoulder, punctuated with fluttering kisses. “…amazing.”

Pain subsides steadily in a flurry of sensations. The excruciating stretch melting into numbing pleasure. Kai’s touch and affection; everything about him surrounding you everywhere. His heat pressed into your skin, his breath mixed with yours, your hearts beating in tandem as you join completely. You are full of him, of love for him, of need for him. Like you’ve pushed all the air out of your body to make more room for him. Every part of you yearns for everything he has to give.

“Kai-god-” You gasp out. “Y-you can move.”

Shakily, he draws his hips back. You feel every ridge and vein run along inside you. And when he pushes back in, your chests shudder in unison; moans and groans filling the hotel room. He continues slowly; falling into overwhelming pleasure. It muddles your thoughts and weighs down your tongue. And—when Kai’s sloppy thrusts settle into an eager, consistent pace—it numbs your mind in ecstasy.

The room devolves into heady grunts and sharp whines echoing in your ears. A mantra of his name builds—a plead, an oath, a prayer—spilling from your heart, coating your lips. Huening answers the call, swallowing your desperation with his own. You lose yourselves in each other. In the heat of your skin and lips meeting recklessly again and again. You need him closer, deeper; filling up your lungs and pumping through your veins. He wants more. Fingerprints and hickeys litter their way down your body at his discretion. His teeth sink in your shoulder, your nails scratch down his back. It’s instinctual and awkward, yet perfect.

The whirlwind in your stomach grows stronger, closer and closer to imploding. You felt yourself teetering, standing on the edge of an unfamiliar precipice. With his breath and pace picking up, it seemed Kai was right there as well. His hand detached from its bruising placement on your hip. Moving his thumb over your clit in deft circles, an extra jolt of pleasure arcs up your spine.

“K-kai, there-please, please, please.” His name tumbles out in whimpers, as does to yours from his lips.

“F-fuck-close-I’m-” A shudder runs through his body, his pace becoming sloppy and erratic. His finger keeps tight to your clit. Your lips clash as the bubble between you pops.

White explodes behind your eyelids. Mind-numbing pleasure fills your every limb. You’re floating on bliss like you’ve never experienced and everything else falls away. Except for Kai. He surrounds you, he fills your lungs and makes you whole. His weak whimpers and moans trail off in your ears like the sounds of heaven. His hips keep moving, stopping jerkily as pleasure seeps into overstimulation. Kai’s arms buckle trying to keep his full body weight off you. He rolls off of you, landing on his back.

Silence fills the air in the aftermath. You exchange heavy breaths, staring off at the ceiling. As the high slowly fades, so does the fog in your head. Realization settles sharp in your bones. Dread and elation stir in your stomach, brewing a dangerous cocktail of words.

“I like you.”

Huening sits up a little, “Huh?”

“I…god, I’m so sorry-” You pull yourself up and look back down at the man, turning the words over in your head until they spill out. “Kai, I really really like you…I have for the past 4 years! And I know this is probably a horrible time to be saying this, but I just…I don’t want this to ruin us or-or the group and I-”

“Y/n! Y/n…” He pulls your hands into his. A bright smile splits his cheeks, shining on your face. “I really like you too.”

Air collapses in your chest, soft and scared. “…R-really?”

His eyes shine and melt into raspberry cheeks with an eager nod. “I didn't mean for it to come out like this, but…”

“Maybe you should get tipsy more often.” Both of you spill over with giddy giggles. A brand new kind of ecstasy fills up your chest, beating in time with Kai’s heart.

“Maybe…”

Your heartbeat speeds, building with each passing second as you look at Huening. Sweet chocolate eyes you could drink in, overindulge, and just never stop. And they look right back at you with the same adoration that’s pumping through your veins.

“I’ll, uh, go get a towel so we can clean up.” Kai shifts off bed, disappearing into the bathroom to discard the condom. He returns with a warm towel, as promised, and begins to gently wipe up your thighs, staying cautious around your still-sensitive folds. The heat soothes some of the worse marks littering your skin, combined with Kai’s delicate kisses over them.

After he works his way up, he ends with your lips. You move in harmony, swapping sweet giggly pecks, fitting together like perfect puzzle pieces. The way his hands cradle your cheeks—all encompassing, trapping their heat—feels like home. Neither of you can contain the joy flooding your faces with huge smiles. They remain even as he pulls away.

“Can we still finish that movie?”

“Sure, hyuka.”

Peace fills the space between you. Love wrapping around and around, building and keeping you safe in its embrace. The world melts away leaving only this room, this moment, the breaths shared between you, the heat of your bare skin melding into his. Curling together beneath the sheets, you bask in it; this revelation of reciprocated love. For a moment, nothing exists beyond you and Kai among the Manhattan skyline.

#txt smut #txt x reader #txt imagines #huening kai x reader #huening kai smut #kpop smut #cw smut #hueningkai smut #hueningkai x reader #hueningkai imagines #hueningkai fanfic #txt fanfic #kpop fanfic #tomorrow x together #text — 🐱#hueningkai

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greenwitchfromthewoods · 3 months ago

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broken trust. [part 2] l Joel Miller

Summary: you used to be very close, but he broke your heart, now your paths have crossed again

Warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of sex, Ellie appears

A/N: I was very happy with how you received the first part of this story. I hope you'll stay with me a little longer and see where it leads us. a few people mentioned tagging - @vickie5446 @dreamtofus 🖤 This part is rather nothing interesting, but I hope you won't waste too much time.

[PART 1]

It was strange to have you by his side again. Although the entire drive to Jackson was silent, Joel felt as if someone had put a gun barrel to his head. Dusk fell rather quickly, the warm evening air filling the car as you cracked the window open.

The patrol you met didn't cause you any trouble and you got to Jackson when the city was lit up by streetlights.

The car parked in front of a building marked as a medical clinic.

"Go home." Joel muttered as Ellie started walking with you towards the front door.

"I don't want to. I'm going with you." The girl was outraged.

"No need. Go."

Ellie snorted, but adjusted her backpack on her shoulder, muttered a quiet "Bye" in your direction and headed down the main street of Jackson.

He was hoping you would say something, but all he heard was the clinic door opening and he saw you disappear inside.

Joel never liked doctors. Every visit reminded him of uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room, nervous nurses and doctors who treated everyone with contempt. And that whole strange smell.

The place was neat and clean though, and the doctor, an older man with a slightly nervous disposition, was quite pleasant and didn't take up much of the others' time.

"Y/N!" he smiled happily seeing you in the doorway "I'm very happy to see you. Is everything okay?"

"Hi, Doc. I brought you a patient, but I don't think you'll have much work with him." You replied, smiling at the sight of the friendly face.

"Mr. Miller? What happened to you?" the doctor showed Joel to a chair and helped him take off his jacket. "It doesn't look bad. We'll manage, Mr. Miller."

The doctor carefully disinfected his wound and put in a few stitches. Joel saw out of the corner of his eye how you were walking lazily around the office looking at old anatomy posters and joking with Doc.

Thousands of questions were spinning in his head and he didn't know who he should ask them to, because he knew that he had no right to ask them to you after all this time.

"What about you, young lady?" Doc washed his hands under the tap in the corner of the room and looked at you "How did everything heal?"

"Good, I guess. The scar is healing nicely." you replied and rolled your eyes seeing as Doc gestured for you to come over "No need, really."

Joel frowned and looked up at you. Maybe he shouldn't have done this, but he felt a strange pang in his heart. You were hurt.

Although Doc was covering you, he saw you lift your shirt, showing the doctor your side.

"Mhm. It looks really good." the doctor mumbled "But you have to be careful, okay? And...What is this?"

Now Joel could see clearly, your back was clearly bruised and you hissed when Doc touched the spot.

"The ribs are intact, that's good. When did this happen?"

"Today. But it's my fault. I got distracted."

"Mhm." the man nodded "You need to rest, Y/N. I know I can't force you to do anything, but please, get a good night's sleep and eat something."

"Yes, sir." you smiled "Can I go now?"

You left the clinic and only outside, when Joel spoke to you, did you realize that he had followed you.

"Y/N." Your name still sounded the same on his lips "Do you wanna talk?"

You zipped up your jacket to protect yourself from the cold and looked at Joel. He hadn't changed that much since you last saw him. He might have been more tired, but he was still the same man you'd woken up and fallen asleep next to so many times.

"I don't think we have anything to talk about." You replied, shoving your hands into your pockets "It's good to see you. I'm glad you're alive."

"Today's thanks to you."

"Yeah, take this as a favor for old times. Listen, I'd like to take a shower and lie down, I think I'll go now."

The man nodded. You turned around and started walking away, but after a few steps you stopped and looked at him again. He didn't move even a single step.

"Joel? I'm really glad you found Tommy. And that you're both alive."

The next gloomy days passed, but your enthusiasm didn’t decrease. Joel saw your notes, you calculated everything you needed to come to an agreement with Howard and his friend. Getting out of QZ was your little obsession. You practically didn’t talk about anything else.

And Joel felt worse and worse. He had the impression that a noose was tightening around his neck, which was getting tighter with each passing day.

The first blow came after more than a week. He was in town exchanging food stamps when your fingers tightened on his arm.

"What happened?" he asked, seeing the mixture of different emotions on your face. "Are you okay?"

"Nothing is okay." you mumbled. "We're in deep shit."

Joel looked around uncertainly. The street wasn’t a good place for such conversations. He grabbed your hand and led you home. But he already knew - it had begun.

You didn't say a word the whole way, and when you entered the apartment you just threw off your bag and jacket, sat on the couch and hid your face in your hands.

"Baby?"

You let out a groan of a person who is resigned and angry at the same time. You were filled with emotions and thoughts to the very limits, you needed a moment to yourself. However, after a few minutes he heard your voice.

"He sold it. He sold it, Joel." Your hands slid off your face and Joel saw your glassy eyes "That fucking car, is gone."

A snort escaped your lips, a mixture of laughter and mockery. Joel felt himself sinking deeper and deeper inside.

"I met Howard, he said it was over. I wanted to know more, but he told me to leave it..." you continued, staring blankly at your hands "Leave it! How... How am I supposed to leave it?!"

He approached and sat on the coffee table right in front of you, taking your hands in his. Seeing you like this was just sad.

"I should kill him." You muttered angrily. "I should do it."

"You know you can't. They'll catch you and it'll be even worse."

"I don't fucking care, Joel." Your hands slipped out of his. "He took away our chance. We were supposed to get out of here…"

"I know, I know, babe."

Finally, tears escaped from under your eyelids. It was one of the saddest sights for Joel. You were always so strong, you were on his side and he trusted you like no one else. But in that moment, your faith and hope for a better tomorrow shattered into a thousand pieces.

He allowed you to despair. And it lasted for several days. Joel often saw your red eyes, rarely heard your voice, and was also sure that you barely slept at night.

He wasn't ready for something like this, but he was sure you could handle it. You were tough, you'd get over it and soon everything would be back to normal.

He breathed a sigh of relief when one night he felt your arms wrap around his waist, you snuggled into his back, saying a quiet "I'm sorry."

But Joel knew it wasn't you who should be apologizing.

Tommy finished his coffee and looked at his brother. When he showed up at his house that morning, he seemed really down. At first, Tommy thought he was talking about his failed fling with Ellie. He had heard about it and was really glad that you were the one who found him and the kid.

"So you know Y/N?" he asked.

Joel nodded.

"From Boston?"

Another nod.

"Hmm, you don't seem happy to see her. Am I wrong?"

Joel's long fingers twirled the coffee cup around, he winced slightly.

"That's not it." he finally spoke up. "We have..."

"A story. I get it." Tommy stretched in his chair. "She's been here for a long time. Maybe two winters, I think. She's really helpful. She found and brought Doc here, that helped us. She brought some equipment to the clinic. That helped Maria give birth."

"Yeah, she's good at finding things. And people."

The sound of footsteps upstairs and the babbling of a baby distracted them for a moment. Life went on as usual in this house, and while Joel was always welcome, he knew he had to take care of his own life.

"Talk to her," Tommy finally said, as if reading his brother's mind. "It couldn't have been that bad, could it?"

It was bad.

All your fears came back in the blink of an eye. When you saw Joel after so long, you felt like you were seeing a ghost. You managed to hide all the memories associated with him and the emotions that accompanied them very well somewhere in the back of your head.

Now, however, they scattered around your mind and didn't give you peace. Neither coffee nor a long shower helped. After a sleepless night, you felt like a living corpse, and your back was giving you painful symptoms.

But you couldn't stay in your apartment, you had to do something. So you went outside with the intention of taking what you managed to get during your last trip, to the clinic. Imagine your surprise when you saw a familiar figure next to your car.

"Ellie? What are you doing here?"

"Hi. I came to see you. I didn't know where you lived so I came here." The girl smiled.

"Shouldn't you be at school or something?"

"Day off."

"Yeah, sure." You shook your head smiling. "I don't want to interfere. Joel probably doesn't know where you are, right?"

Ellie shuffled her shoe before answering.

"He's not my father, I can do whatever I want." She replied rebelliously.

You pulled two boxes out of the trunk and put them on the ground. The girl looked at you as if she was expecting what she might hear.

"He may not be your father, but he's the one who cares about you and can keep you safe."

"Did he give it to you too?"

You bit your lip, wondering how to answer. But you knew that only an honest answer would satisfy Ellie.

"Yeah, he did."

"So what happened?"

"These are matters for adults." You replied, but you winked at her.

That assured her that she wasn't entering dangerous territory and you wouldn't be telling her to go back to school or Joel.

"Do you need help?" she pointed to the boxes.

"Come on. At least you'll be doing something useful."

Everything was slowly getting back to normal, and that brought Joel relief. The car and Howard issue was closed, you didn't talk about it and focused on what was around you.

You might have gone out of the QZ walls a little more often, but Joel treated it more as a compensation for you. He even liked it, even though he was constantly looking over his shoulder and keeping an eye on you.

That was all he could give you, a few stolen moments outside the gray world you lived in. And you tried to take as much of it as you could.

You worked at QZ, and in your free time, together with Joel, you would sneak outside. Then you would go back to your shared apartment, make love at night, or just lie on the couch reading some old books. Sometimes you would get carried away by fantasy, like when Joel tried to convince you that he used to be a really good dancer. So you would dance cuddled in the living room while he hummed some melody that only he knew in your ear. It was soothing. His hand gently moving over your back, his voice quiet and calm. This was the life you created for yourselves.

But the end came as suddenly as an avalanche.

"Babe, are you here?"

He threw his jacket on the armchair and looked around the apartment looking for your trace. The place was quiet, but he finally saw you coming out of the bedroom.

"It took me longer today, but I got something extra. Have you eaten anything? I managed to get some fresh bread, I know how much you love it."

You didn't answer. You stood leaning against the door frame and watched him with your arms folded across your chest. A cold shiver ran down his spine.

You knew. He could feel it.

"What did I do to you, Joel?"

Your voice was almost dead, calm and so resigned.

"Sweetie..." he began uncertainly, but he didn't know what to say.

"What did I do to you, Joel?" you repeated the question just as calmly as before. "What did I do to deserve all this?"

He walked up to you and took your face in his large, warm hands. He wanted you to snuggle into them, like always, but your body was completely unmoved.

"I met Howard's friend today. We started talking. I asked if there was a chance for a battery or a reasonably functional car." The words flowed from your lips. "He laughed. He asked... He asked me why I bothered him when my boyfriend would show up soon and give him much more to sell it to someone else. Joel..."

You said his name as if you were begging him to tell you that it wasn't true, that this was all some stupid joke. But he couldn't, you could see it in his eyes.

"How dare you, Joel? How dare you?"

Why did you have to be so calm? That was the worst part of it all. You seemed as cold and unapproachable to him as ever.

"I did it for your own good." He finally replied. "For your safety. Listen, there's nothing there. You're safe here. And you're alive."

"Who gave you the right to decide for me?" you pulled away from him in disgust.

"I care about you!"

"You care about me?!" you scoffed "First you told me beautiful stories about how we'd get out of here, and then you took it all away from me! You watched me cry, you watched how devastated I was... Fuck, you must have really enjoyed it!"

"Don't say that! You know perfectly well that I... You know that you're important to me."

You never named what was between you two. It was good, so there was no need. Besides, you knew perfectly well that Joel wasn't the type to wear his heart on his sleeve.

His feelings were described by words like "Be careful", "Don't go there alone", "I'll go first" or "I've got your back". Or in the way he touched or looked at you. But now you were looking at a man you weren't sure you knew.

"Listen. Baby..."

"Don't call me that. That's bullshit!"

Your eyes filled with tears. A chasm appeared between you that couldn't be bridged.

"I wanted this for us." You whispered with difficulty. "I wanted us to leave this place behind. I know it's dangerous there, I know it would be hard, but we would be there together. I wanted you to find Tommy. I would go with you to the end of the world if you only asked..."

"I'm so sorry. You don't even know how much I regretted it. But I couldn't let anything happen to you, you know that."

You nodded and wiped your tear-soaked cheek with your hand.

"Yeah, I know."

Joel approached you and his hand brushed your cheek. He wanted to take you in his arms so much, to feel your warmth. He knew he would never be able to atone for what he had done. But the most important thing was for you to be safe and sound, with him.

For a brief moment he thought that everything would still work out. Joel didn't know how wrong he was.

You were already one foot out the door.

[PART 3]

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

#joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader

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kooktrash · 2 years ago

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his special secret | kim taehyung

summary: you’re an art student who has recently broken up with your cheating ex boyfriend. he’s your art professor recovering from a divorce just a year ago. what happens when your relationship goes beyond that of a professor and his college student?

➢ genre/au: college art professor!tae x art student!y/n [she/her… afab] [age gap 9 years]

➢ 12.5k words

warnings: smüt. secret relationship. tae is 30, y/n is 21. car sëx. oral [f&m]. make out. groping. tae is divorced. both got cheated on in past. jealous tae. dirty talk. makeout in art closet. y/n is confident but going thru it. professor x student. no protection. y/n is on top.

[REUPLOAD] HIS SPECIAL SECRET 2

You know when you're really mad to the point that you wanna cry? Not because you're sad but because you're so mad and you can't even act on that anger, especially not right now, you couldn't even show that you're upset because you're in class. Obviously it started off with your stupid ass ex-boyfriend's tenth apology text where it was mostly just him trying to gaslight you. Then it was because of missing the bus to campus which made you have to get a taxi and spend way more money than necessary, but get this, you spent like 20$ so you wouldn't miss your first class and yet it was canceled. Canceled! After spending that money to make it for that specific lecture you walk over to the room only to find a big fat 'canceled' sign on the door. Plus, you had enough time to catch the next bus if the professor only posted or emailed everyone saying it was cancelled, hell you could’ve even slept longer.

Your phone is still being blown up and you just can’t focus on your painting today. You can’t mix the right shade and it is beginning to drive you crazy. Your palette is getting too full and your water is so dirty that it isn’t even cleaning the brush anymore. You had already been trying to keep your cool this entire time but now you can’t take it anymore. You were so upset with the trillion texts you were being sent and with your painting not going the way you wanted it too, oh and missing the bus and class being canceled, you were very clearly overstimulated and overwhelmed. You felt like there is nothing you can do but just give up for the day.

You stood abruptly taking your brushes and palette to the sink in the back of the room. You dried and packed them all up not caring to say anything to anyone else as you picked up your bags and canvas. You put your things away and left, not turning back to professor who looked up from helping another person to watch you leave so suddenly. You finally got your phone out and dialed one of your friend's number hearing it ring twice before they picked.

"What do you want? I'm trying to take a nude here?"

"Can you pick me up? I'm done with classes," you asked him. You weren't even that far from the classroom but you were done. You had been working on the same part for over twenty minutes and it was not getting any better so you just had to go.

"You're lucky I was gonna go get Bora too, I'll be there in fifteen," Jungkook said finishing up his last shirtless picture before going for you two.

"Will that be all for today?" A voice spoke up behind you as your call came to an end. You jumped looking back and following the voice's direction and froze at the sight of your professor.

"Yeah, I'm sorry I just—I can't focus today," you sighed rambling out a shitty excuse. He huffed crossing his arms over his chest. You swear your professor came from a world where only the most attractive people are born. It wasn't even you being dramatic, it's just the facts. He had dark hair always styled neatly, his face was angular yet soft and his dark brows made his expressions more attractive. His voice was always so low that it was quite literally mouth watering and he loved wearing long sleeve button ups where he could just roll his sleeves up if he got too hot. You looked at his face, snapping yourself out of your thoughts at his expression.

He looked annoyed, but he kept himself neutral as he spoke, "The exhibition is next month. You only have a few weeks to finish the piece before the submission deadline. Don't you think you should try to focus on your painting?"

"I did try Professor Kim, I've just been—there's just a lot going on and—" you stopped suddenly staring at his left hand, a silver band no longer there. You stuttered a little to start again, "I apologize."

"Mhm," he muttered looking away from you to the others inside the art studio focused on their work, "Just go on, make sure the next time you step into the studio you're more focused."

Dick. "Of course sir," you said turning your back to leave finally. You got to the campus entrance just in time meeting Bora along the way and the two of you got into Jungkook's car. He was shirtless as he drove.

"What's up with you?" You asked buckling yourself in as you got in the passenger's seat. He was on his phone looking up at you through sunglasses that made you laugh, "You look like such a douche."

"Shut up I told you I was taking nudes," he said as he drove away, "Plus I'm hungover and the sun's way too bright but I wanna know what took you two so damn long."

"Oh my god I left my laptop in the journalism room so I had to go all the way to get it and you know I hate walking too much," Bora said from the back seat. You sighed, "Mr. Kim caught me outside and he kind of lectured me but it's whatever. You won't believe what I noticed today—"

"What?" The two said in harmony ready for any sort of gossip. You looked genuinely surprised, "He doesn't have a wedding ring anymore." They leaned back in disappointment.

"Yeah we know," Bora said sarcastically, "Everyone's been talking about it since last semester. The word is he must've gotten divorced over the summer."

"Wait so it's almost been a year? How did I not know? He's so young," you said with furrowed brows trying to understand what you were being told. Jungkook sighed dramatically, "Because you had a boyfriend and you're not into older men."

"He's like 30, that's not old, first of all," Bora cut in, "And Y/n has daddy or mommy issues, so she's probably into older men."

"How did this get turned on me?" You asked looking between the two before settling your eyes on Bora, "He really got divorced? I thought he'd been with her since he was 20."

“Yeah, apparently word on campus is that he caught her with her coworker," Bora told you, "Minho from the Tech department heard it in the staff room. Apparently he was asked to help with some computer problem and two teachers were talking about it. He told his girlfriend and she's told basically everyone."

"Why do so many care?" Jungkook asked pulling up to your apartment. Bora gasped, "Why? Because he is literally the world's most attractive man? He's like a God. I promise you everyone has a crush on him and that's why so many of the beginner art class was filled. Everyone wanted to have him as a teacher even if they weren't art majors."

"Is that why you signed up for an art theory class this semester?" You asked turning to her. She nodded with a pout, "Yeah but it was already filled. You're so lucky he's head of the department and you're in your third year. You get to work with him more since his focus is on proficient students.”

"He's super strict though," you told her with a defeated sigh, "But I guess he's honest. You have to be ready to face critique and he's helpful. He just makes you feel like shit when you're not focused."

"I bet he's an ass because he's probably not getting laid," Jungkook laughed, "Divorce does that to people. Turns them bitter."

"Are you kidding? Look at him, women must be all over him, hell half of us on campus would gladly have him," Bora swooned. You looked down at your phone, yet another text message from your shitty ex-boyfriend.

"Y/n you should sleep with him," Bora joked, "Since you're both newly single and you'll be a good shoulder for him to cry on."

"Thanks but I like guys my own age and I’m pretty sure being his student already complicates things enough," you said absentmindedly before reading over the newest text. It's been at least two weeks and he still hasn't quit trying to gaslight you. It was ridiculous and so damn tiring. Your professor was right, you had to focus on art and this was only a distraction. You'll have to stay over time tomorrow because he hasn't left you alone today.

namjoon: I srsly don't get y you're still ignoring me

namjoon: you kno I'd never do something to hurt u

One of the best parts about being an art student who has finished their prerequisites is that now you can really just focus on your work. So you'd basically go to one or two art classes and then you would go and work on your art. Bora was right when she said he was your mentor and it was in fact pretty exclusive.

You sold a painting last year in the Spring Art Exhibit for the university and Professor Kim became a lot more helpful. Despite his young age he had great connections in the art world from financers to auctioneers and museums. He helped proficient students participate in more exhibits and some art auctions where they could be noticed for their work and now you're one of them. Obviously he could be strict but it's because he saw potential in you and you definitely did not want to disappoint him. That's why you've spent majority of your day here well into the evening. You did have to work later but it would be open for at least another hour and that's enough time to adjust some color blocking. The sunset was long gone and you’ve barely been twenty minutes into your groove when someone else entered the studio.

You lowered the music coming from your speaker immediately at the sight of your teacher. He looked at you for a moment before continuing his walk to his desk. You tried going back to your work but now all you could think about is how dumb you were for not noticing he was divorced even if it didn’t matter to you at all. He was fishing some black portfolio out of a drawer as he spoke, "A custodian should be by soon to mop the floors and lock the room. You'll probably want to leave soon."

"Yes, I’ll start cleaning up now," you sighed as you looked at the very little work you got done. You could obviously try and work on it at home but that was too distracting. Your apartment was small and filled with distractions and there wasn't enough room for your things. It was a three canvas piece and with the easel and all your paints, brushes, palettes, and sketches spread out on the floor there's no room. At least here you had places to lock it up in. It got awkward again as you cleaned up your space and he did something at his desk. So, awkwardly, you tried to fill the silence, "Any plans this weekend, sir?"

"Nothing too interesting," he said seriously as he shuffled through some documents to find something, "Probably nothing like what all of you get up to on the weekend."

You assumed he was talking about college students. You went to one of those Universities that was extremely popular for producing majority of the well-paid lawyers, athletes, engineers, actors, musicians and artists. The student succession rate was high and yet every weekend every college student was out there getting completely shitfaced because of stress. You shrugged, "Well mine’s not interesting either, I have to work all weekend."

You doubt he cares at all but you said it anyway. Mr. Kim left shortly after with a quick goodbye and you rushed to catch the bus.

Taehyung's weekend didn't completely start till Saturday night. His Friday night was filled with directing a new upcoming event happening. The exhibit is in a month and Taehyung's been stuck calling buyers and businesses for confirmation in their attendances. It was really a large charity event where large corporations get publicity and popularity from but a lot of the students who have managed to put their name out there are pretty well known in the art world. Many have gone on to create their exhibitions and events for their art and have had large commissions. The school did a really good job at providing their students with advantages in their careers and Taehyung was pretty proud to be helping his art major students. Of course it was stressing but it was an honor at his age. Obviously it helped that his parents were well known art curators and have worked with foreign and home artists for years. The only thing that was hard is how much work it really was and with the shitty year he's had he needs a break.

"It's been a year Taehyung, nobody's telling you to find another wife," his best friend Jimin said as him and his two friends sat at the counter of some lounge bar. "We're just saying you should at least have post-divorce sex with some random chick and let off some steam. It's a Saturday night, I say we hit up some night club after this."

"No thanks, I'm not in the mood to be shoved around by drunk college kids," Yoongi cut in as he read over the drink menu as the bartender showed up. He gave his drink order first putting the attention on Taehying and Jimin making him look up. His mouth opened slightly in surprise at the sight before him.

You managed to hide your surprise at actually seeing your teacher outside of campus but you were working and he was with friends. He was the one to stumble over his words when he gave you his drink order. Jimin smirked evilly when you turned to make the drinks at the way Taehyung was acting. You wore a black skirt and fitted black top with your hair and make up done.

"Well well well," Jimin whispered to the other two, "I guess I don't need to force you on blind dates. You can chat up the bartender."

"It was pretty awkward hearing you try and talk to her," Yoongi added in making Taehyung shake his head in disagreement. Still, he continued, "No, I—she’s my—she’s too young.”

"Taehyung, look at your gorgeous face, I doubt it matters, plus you’re a college professor! You’ve got a PhD, you’re well off, you’re artistic! It's no wonder everyone throws themselves at you, so go at it," Jimin said making Taehyung laugh, "Do you have a crush on me Chimmy?"

"Of course, I'm one of those college girls of yours who join your lectures just to for you to notice them," Jimin joked shaking his head, "And yet Jihyun is the one who cheated and not you."

"Way to bring that up," Yoongi hit him letting them conversation drop as you came back with the drinks taking their money, Taehyung looked after you. Did you work every weekend? He didn't expect you to be the type to work here. He doesn't usually pay attention to his students aside from during his teachings but you were obviously a different story along with all of his advanced students. He was your mentor and you spent a lot of time in the art studio. You mostly kept to yourself and did your work. He usually saw you stressed out but the other day was the first time in two years that you just walked out of his class. It was hard juggling the art piece from the Spring Art Exhibit and the final for their realism class but that's life and you leaving was so out of character to him.

It was still weird to see you give up that day. He obviously didn't know how you acted outside of the art department but he really was surprised especially considering the way you were dressed. He also didn't know you were the type to be friends with muscular men covered in tattoos and piercings.

"Holy shit that really is your professor," Jungkook whispered to you as he wiped the inside of some shot glasses. You and him stood at the other end of the bar gossiping. Jungkook smirked, "This is a sign, you should sleep with him."

"Do you ever think about something other than sex?" "Not really."

“Alright well focus on your own sex life and not mine. I just dumped Namjoon like three weeks ago," you complained, "Plus I'm pretty sure there's a rule against student and staff relations."

"Alright but you're 21 and he's like 30 so legally..." Jungkook trailed off giving you enough time to cut in. You sighed, "Just stop."

After some time you did circle back to the group of men and took more drink orders. While you were there one of them excused themselves to the restroom and the other got a call. In the end, Taehyung was the only one left. You found yourself stalling as you wiped your side of the lowered counter in front of him.

"I'm off," Jungkook came by patting your shoulder, "Want me to wait for you?" You shook your head at him, "No, I have to close remember?"

"Alright well call me if you change your mind," then he reached out and flicked your forehead, "See ya, Ugly."

You rolled your eyes swatting his hand away as your cheeks reddened in embarrassment. He's such an asshole. Taehyung didn't say anything for a second and then said, "So this is where you go after the studio?"

"On the weekends yeah," you said biting your lip nervously, "Also sorry if I seemed disrespectful but you're out with your friends and I didn't want to interrupt."

"Don't worry about it, I'm not offended I was just surprised. You're the first student I've seen outside of school-related events," he confessed with a small smile. From what he saw of you with that guy you definitely seemed outgoing. You seemed playful and maybe a little sarcastic but when he sees you in the studio you’re serious. When you talk to him it seems like you're always on edge and he still wanted to know what made you walk out the other day. Sensing another wave of awkwardness coming between you two you took a glass in your hand, "How about a drink? On the house."

"That's alright, I can pay—" "Sir, it's just one drink it'll be fine," you waved him off already mixing it before handing it to him, "You seem stressed."

Your fingertips touched his on accident as he took the drink. Your eyes locked once more before you were backing away to help some people on the other end. Taehyung has never looked at any of his students sexually but obviously he'd never been blind to the attractive ones. He'd been married for five years and he was loyal unlike his ex wife. Plus, he knew the position he was in and what it'd do to his career if he ever got involved with a student so the thought never came to mind. Right now though, he's having a hard time seeing you as a student and not just someone from the bar. Thankfully, his friends returned to him just as you caught him staring again.

Bora would be losing her shit over your small interaction with your professor. He was so unbelievably attractive and to see him in a setting like this made you want to do very bad things with him. Maybe their jokes about using your Professor for rebound sex was getting to your head. Obviously your friends never meant anything serious by that but wow did that seem do-able right now, especially considering the fact that he keeps staring at you.

"Come on Taehyung, let's go clubbing, I haven't gone in a while," Jimin begged him turning to Yoongi, "You too, let's go."

"Nah man, I'm not cut out for that anymore. I’m older than the two of you," Yoongi reminded making Jimin roll his eyes. He pulled on Taehyung's arm, "Let's go get you laid."

"Shut up, I'm not going, why don't you go? You don't need us," Taehyung told him. Jimin huffed gathering his things, "Fine. I will."

They waved him off watching him leave until it was just the other two. Yoongi sighed, "I should probably head home before Jieun comes to get me herself. It was nice drinking with you though, call me if you need anything."

Taehyung knows that he should just head out too. His two friends just left and he's got no reason to still be at the bar but he waited for you to come back and clean up their glasses.

"Your friends left already?" You asked him wiping at the counter.

"Uh yeah, I think I need to sober up before I head out though," he cleared his throat nervously, "Can I get a water?"

"Of course," you left for a second to fill it before coming back. You set the glass down in front of him stalling a little before asking, "I don't know if this is inappropriate or anything but are you alright sir? I, uh, I actually just realized you're not wearing your ring anymore."

His breath hitched for a second. He'll be a year since his divorce in two months and you've just now noticed? Well he doesn't expect his students to notice a small detail but still felt weird to hear it. He nodded in acknowledgment to your question, "It's alright, but yes, I'm not wearing my ring anymore. I had a divorce last summer."

"Wow," you said absentmindedly, "Well I hope you're doing well. I know this isn't all that similar but I actually just recently ended a relationship too."

"Oh?" Taehyung questioned with peaked interest. The nagging part in his brain was telling him to go before he got too curious about his student's personal life, "Is everything alright with you then?"

"Yeah it's fine," you shrugged leaving for a second to help someone else. Taehyung still waited even if he knew it was his chance to return to his empty home. When you came back he rushed to question you, "So, what made the two of you end it? Was he someone you were with since high school?"

"God no, we'd only been dating a few months but he still cheated," you blurted out, the topic still annoying you, "I mean, you know, some people just aren't worth it."

"He cheated on you?" Taehyung asked looking you up and down without much thought. He might be crossing the line with the next thing he says. You nodded no longer caring about keeping this to yourself, "With one of my closest friends actually. Safe to say I don't talk to either of them anymore."

"You're beautiful."

You froze. His words were mumbled behind his hand as he looked away from you, "I mean... you seem like a great person and I don't see why anyone would ever choose someone else over you." You didn't say anything for a moment before nodding your head, "Well I could say the same for you Mr. Kim."

Ah, so even if you just found out he was divorced clearly you’ve heard the rumors. It was embarrassing that his students and others knew what happened. The conversation changed after that. He asked about your progress and you went into detail about your work. He nodded listening, "Well maybe I could offer some guidance after class."

"I'd really appreciate that, and once again I'm sorry for walking out of class the other day," you bit your lip nervously and it had Taehyung doing the same. Stop, Y/n's your student and is at least nine years younger than you, he told himself.

His breath hitched as he tried to push his thoughts away before something bad happened. The two of you talked for another hour or two, before you knew it the bar was supposed to close soon as it was past midnight. Taehyung noticed the a sense of all other customers with a sense of dread, he'd have to leave now. He actually enjoyed talking to you, he's never connected with his students but you were easy to talk to. Obviously that was already inappropriate and he should just forget all of this but it was hard. He liked having someone to listen even if it weren't his close friends. He sighed as he stood, "So, you're closing soon?"

He was setting some cash down on the counter, a good tip that you tried to refuse. You nodded, "Yeah, I've gotta do some cleaning up unfortunately."

"How do you get home? You ride the bus?" He asked playing with his keys. You pushed some hair behind your ears, "No actually I'll probably have to call a cab since it's so late."

"Nonsense, if you're up for it I can give you a lift," Taehyung offered up before he could even process what he was saying, "I mean, I don't know how comfortable I'd feel letting you get in a stranger's car this late at night when I can wait for you. Unless you think that's inappropriate." It was.

You nodded, "I mean, if you don't mind waiting..." "I don't," Taehyung rushed to say, "I'll bring my car around to the front and wait for you alright? It gives me a chance to sober up some more anyway. You've got my number right?"

You did since he was your mentor. A lot of you students who were in advanced classes had his number since you all had a group chat. Taehyung would be lying if he said he hasn't had female students in the past be a little too suggestive in his messages but he always shut it down right away. The only reason he wanted to take you home tonight is because he actually enjoyed talking with you. He hadn't spoken with a woman this much in a long time unless it was school or work related. He's shot down every one of Jimin's offers to set him up with someone and when they'd go out drinking Taehyung was never interested in hooking up with strangers.

When you got in his car he passed you his jacket to drape over your legs and you thanked him, "Thank you so much, cabs are so expensive."

"Yeah, I bet they are, just tell me when to turn, alright?" Taehyung said as he pulled onto the street heading down the direction you pointed to. Your phone sat on your lap ringing and you didn't hang up or answered. If you hung up he'd just keep calling and calling.

He looked down at your phone before shifting his eyes back on the road, hand adjusting his grip on the steering wheel, "Do you need to answer that?"

"Huh? No it's just my ex," you told him honestly staring out the window, "He's still bothering me all the time."

"Mm," he hummed in acknowledgement as you pointed at what street to turn down, "He's still trying even after sleeping with your former friend?"

"Yeah, he thinks apologizing over and over again is gonna change my mind," you said with a shrug, "But that's done with thankfully. Don't you feel that way? Happy it's over?"

He waited a moment trying to think it over. Is this conversation with you wrong? Well in reality, getting you in his car this late at night is wrong. Thinking about how your perfume filled his car with a soft floral scent. Plus you were pretty, he'd thought that the other day too when he caught you in the studio so late. Your hair had been pinned back and your smock was covered in paint along with your hands. He had found himself stalling his mission that night before rushing home once he realized it.

"Um, I am happy it's over but it was also a ten year relationship that she threw away for one night," Taehyung said to you, "I'm happy it's over but it still upsets me. Sorry, maybe we shouldn't be talking about this?"

"Of course I'm so sorry Mr. Kim," you said turning away from him, "Um it's just up the street. The building with a gate."

He nodded driving forward. He was about to know where one of his student's lives. But why didn't he want to drop you off now? When he pulled up to the side of the building still a little hidden under the night sky he turned to you. Should he walk you up to make sure you get u wide safely or would that be taking it too far?

Maybe you were crazy or maybe your friends really got to your head because you did not want to leave. Obviously before you thought he was just your hot, married professor but now? After spending over an hour just talking to him and then him dropping you off home was messing with your head. Plus, you went through very similar experiences and he had to be at least a little into you to go out of his way to wait for you to take you home. Obviously it was wrong since he was your professor but in reality the age part didn't matter. Sure, you've always said you like guys your age but just look at Kim Taehyung.

So yeah, you were taking your sweet time unbuckling yourself and giving him his jacket back. He didn't say anything watching you sit up trying to get your things and for some reason he really did not want you to go. What he hadn't expected was the look in your eyes when you caught him staring again. This was wrong. He had to stop looking at you like that. He was nine years older than you and your college professor.

But then, you surprised him when you reached over the middle console. He didn't even have to think about what was going on when his hand was on your jaw pulling you closer until your lips met. He released a soft groan into your mouth letting his tongue lick along your lower lip until you gave him room to explore your mouth.

You were so eager, a hand on his thigh to keep yourself up as he tongue kissed you. He should not be doing this, he knows he shouldn't but it's been so long since he's had anyone's hands on him but his own. He did not sleep around and he was acting out of character with you but in this moment he just needed to have you. The nagging feeling was still in the back of his head though.

You trailed wet kisses down his jaw, kissing along his neck arching your back into him. He couldn't stop the slide of his hand over the back of your skirt, groping a little at your butt as he reached over to touch you too. Even then he just had to speak, "This is wro—ng, you're my student."

You're not completely sure what came over you in the car but at the moment you did not care. Your hand slid closer to his inner thighs making his muscles tense. You were getting a little too close to his groin now as you kissed him shutting him up. He kissed back hungrily despite his words and then your hand was running over his middle. You sighed into his lips, "Nobody has to know, just tonight."

Taehyung didn't put up much of a fight after that. He let you unzip his jeans and button. His hand was at your throat pulling you into him while his other hand trailed down your back. Your short skirt was a little too tempting to reach out and touch. He licked his lips when you kissed down the middle of his collarbone where the top buttons of his shirt were undone. With the first grade of your hand palming at his growing erection he groped at your butt in the skirt. He nodded with a lick of his lips, "Just tonight."

He couldn't stop the deep moan that he released when your hand dipped into his briefs. He was sporting a semi but with the first touch of your hand on his hardening cock. You still hadn't even looked down to notice he was thick and long. He felt heavy in your hand as you palmed over him, too dry to feel good so you brought your hand up. You held it to his chin and with his eyes locked on yours he spit into it watching you do the same before bringing it back down to his member. He jumped at the first feel of the slick grip you had on him now creating a wet slide around him. He was panting, it'd been way too long since the last time someone else touched him.

Also, it helped that it was past midnight and how far was well tinted so you couldn't see anything from the outside. The car wasn't even on anymore. His hips met your hand's efforts to jerk him off, moaning into your mouth as he grabbed a handful of ass. After some time you pulled away from him making sure to pull on his lips as you backed off watching him try and chase after you. He watched through lust filled eyes as you shunned further toward your door backing your butt up so you could lean over the middle console until you were face to face with his slick cock. He bit his lip in anticipation, no longer thinking about how wrong this was the second your tongue licked up a fat stripe up the length of his member.

"Is this alright, sir?" You asked holding his cock in a loose fist while you left soft kisses on his mushroom tip. Your tongue poked at the vein on his underside, rounded innocent eyes staring at him that he knew were anything but innocent. He'd never been with anyone this young, he'd never even thought about this before he'd been married for five years and dating for another four or five. She'd been the last women he was ever with and his relationships prior to her hadn't meant anything. Yet, here he was enjoying the warm tight feel of your mouth on him that had him forgetting everything wrong with this.

He licked his lips, "Y-Yes, but call me Taehyung." He liked hearing you call him sir too damn much but considering all his students call him that he couldn't think about it right now.

"Alright Taehyung," you leaned up to peck his lips in a quick kiss that had him craving more. Then you flashed him a mischievous smile before coming back down to his member, "I'm gonna suck your dick now."

Taehyung shudders out another velvety groan as your lips finally wrapped around his whole tip. Hips rise off the leather seat to meet your mouth hoping to get himself deeper. Wet warmth around his length and he's gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles whiten. You're far from gentle. The flick of your tongue over a thick vein before lapping at the slit on his head with every bob. The gentle suck of the tip. You've never found so much pleasure from sucking a man's cock before, but then came your hot Professor. Nine years older than you, too young to be divorced, and the man he taught you about art all week. None of that matters though when it comes to the deep growls and husky moans he releases as a hand plays with the end of your panties. A thing paid of things he had to pull out your underwear, fingers running over your covered slit.

Taehyung had decided the moment you reached into his jeans that he wanted to fuck his student. He wanted to let out all his pent up sexual frustration on his pretty little student who was just so eager to take his cock in their mouth. Who would've known he would've broken his head long dry spell for some college pussy. He brought his hand back from your underwear sticking his fingers into his mouth to lather them in spit.

He groaned when he hit the back of your throat relishing in the tightness of your mouth as he slid his hand to your head again, pulling the poor excuse for underwear to let his finger run down your slit toward your clit. You were so fucking wet, stupid wet actually and it only turned him on more.

His finger brushed roughly against your skin, a moan escaping your throat that sent vibrations around his dick. Taehyung toyed with your clit feeling more slick being produced by his touch. It was so fucking hot. The sec with his wife had gotten boring and repetitive over the years but this felt new and exciting. You were attractive to him from your looks to your art work and it was all hitting him at once.

"That's it sweetheart, take it all in your mouth," Taehyung panted stopping his motions, but pressing down against your clit. Your head began to bob harshly now, sucking him into your mouth while your hand stroked whatever didn't felt. He was feeling close but with how tight you felt, he needed to stretch you.

Taehyung hummed, rubbing circles around your cunt, his thumb gently massaging your clit. "Am I making you this wet baby? Should I punish you for it?"

You moaned and whined as Taehyung's fingers slammed into you, while rubbing your clit. You caught him by surprise when you bounced your hips forcing his finger in and out of your cunt at a speed you wanted and it made him groan deep in his chest.

He didn't stop fucking your throat as you fucked yourself on his finger giving him time to push another in too. He wished he could see this from an outside point of you. This thirty year old man getting his dick milked dry by a hot twenty one year old art student of his while he stuck his fingers into their tight pussy. He was so close, honestly surprised he'd been holding off this long. When his fingers began to feel your walls relax around him he knew you were ready for him now.

"Think you can ride my cock sweetheart?" He asked brushing your hair out of your face as you slobbered all over his member. You didn't need to be asked twice as you popped off him feelings his fingers toy with your folds but no longer fingering you. He pushed his seat back to give you more room before reclining his seat back. He guided you over his lap watching as you didn't waste a second in lining himself up with your wet pussy.

"I'm on the pill sir," you said calling him that name again that had his cock twitching. He nodded pulling you in for another kiss as his hands found your waist sinking you down his length. You moaned into each other's mouths. You slowly raised your hips and sunk back down on him, and he tightened his grip on your throat just slightly pulling you away from the kiss. Your face pressed against each others in breathy moans of want as he began to bounce you on his cock while bucking his hips.

It had been awhile for the both of you, though he knows you probably hadn't waited as long as him. He'd been dry since his divorce while you just broke up with tour boyfriend weeks ago. He had a feeling you were always eager like this for sex, and you clearly knew what you were doing with your mouth too and it was just so hot. He was kneading your ass as your head rested on the crook of his neck. He was so close but he was trying to hold off for you. He resort to talking, "This is wrong, y'know?"

Even then he said it with a buck of his hips loving the way your plump wet walls felt around him, "Only bad girls jump on their teacher's cocks."

"Mm," you whined teasingly as you sucked love bites into his collarbone, "You gonna punish me sir?"

"Oh fuck," he moaned when your walls clenched around him intentionally, "Call me Taehyung, love."

"Taehyung," you moaned into his mouth moving onto a quick grind of your heads into each other, "I'm gonna cu—"

"Do it, do it now, fuck Y/n," he held you tighter getting a little rougher now as he reached up for the handlebar on the roof of the car and used it for leverage as he forced his hips off the seat to push more into you. With the new force you weren't lasting long, your release hit you like a tsunami making you shake around him as he held your chest against his. He didn't stop thrusting though, trying to get himself as close to orgasm before he had to pull out of your tight walls as they twitched around him.

You let him raise you off his cock as you sat back down in your seat adjusting your underwear that had been pulled to the side this entire time. You reached across him with a hand jerking him off using your own release as lube and he was fucking into your hand forcing your mouth back on his. With a low grunt and a shake of his hands, he was cumming. Thick drops of creamy cum fell around your hand like a flood. You didn't think much about it as you pulled away from his lips to cover his cock in your mouth licking him clean as best as you could.

After some time you moved off him awkwardly pulling your hair out of your face as you cleared your throat. He tucked himself back in nervously as he adjusted his seat back up looking at his disheveled reflection. He couldn't even look at you, not because he didn't want to stare at your beauty but because it really was wrong. He was your college professor for fuck's same. It didn't matter his strong attraction toward you. What mattered is that he was in a place of authority and could easily lose his job and probably ruin your reputation. He couldn't do that to you but he really wanted you.

"I should probably head inside now," you said shyly as you grabbed your bag opening the door. Taehyung didn't say anything nodding his head watching you leave. He hated the fact that he looked at the length of your legs as you left. It wasn't right.

By Monday morning Taehyung wasn't sure what to think anymore. After the crazy night with you on Saturday it was all he could think about on Sunday. He met up with his friends for brunch and he couldn't help but rant. It didn't do him any favors that they knew something was wrong with him since the beginning. He ended up being honest and telling them that the bartender was his student and that they hooked up in his car.

At first they had been extremely confused by it all but Taehyung already felt guilty on his own as it was, he didn't need them making him feel worse. He expected them to slap him or tell him that he should never do it again. But they didn't say that. Instead they filled his head with possibilities that should never even be thought off.

"In reality you two are adults and didn't you say she's a third year? She'll graduate in a year so really there's nothing wrong with it," Jimin tried reasoning, "She wanted to do it right? Look, I'm just happy you got your dick wet. We both know it's been way too long, plus nobody is saying you have to keep seeing your student. It was just a one night hiccup."

He had to tell himself over and over again that it was just one night. He was thankful that when you walked into class you were in the middle of a discussion when another girl from the class. The two of you were talking so much you merely walked past his desk without a stolen glance. Good, it seemed like you had no intention on more. Great. Amazing. It was the right thing.

Today a male model would be brought in for you all to paint. He had a sheet draped over his intimates and once the assignment was started you put all your focus on it. You were supposed to use him to sketch a person and then use your own art style to tell a story. You tried not looking to your professor in case he felt awkward about Saturday. You kind of did.

Mostly because you could still feel his lips on yours and it made you nervous. You spent all of Sunday in your room trying not to freak out but you just felt so stupid. It felt unbelievably good for him but you knew it wasn't right.

"I swear to god these stupid fingers are pissing me off," your friend Yuna whined as she had to erase more charcoal. Neither one of you noticed the professor making his rounds to check on all the sketches down so far.

"Think about which perspective you're using and the proportion of his hands where he has them placed," Mr. Kim told her pointing to areas that seemed off. You could feel your heart race when he made his move to you next. He was hesitant at first to speak to you, just standing behind your stool watching your sketch and he only stepped closer when he had advice.

"Pay a little more attention to the line of his body, focus on proportions too and use more shadowing,” he said pointing at spots in your painting. It felt like he was too close but neither one of you were actually bothered by it. In the mix of slight regret there was also this strong wanting for a recreation of that night. Neither one of you would actually go for it though. Right? Not again?

He looked down to make sure you were listening, your eyes lcking for a moment before you both looked away nervously at the realization of your proximity. He didn't notice the way his tongue ran over his lips before biting down on his bottom one in remembrance. You're wearing the perfume from the other night.

Clearing his throat, Taehyung looked away from you standing straight again, "But other than that it looks like you have more done than others, thank you for focusing better today."

"Of course sir," you said absentmindedly looking back to your sketch too. It took him a second to move away. He'd never felt so damn embarrassed at the fact that he had to focus so hard on not getting turned on and breaking a sweat. This is exactly why he asked you to call him Taehyung only but of course you would slip up since you were used to referring to him with the honorific. But right now he could only think about what you'd said to him that faithful night.

"You gonna punish me sir?"

Looking down at you nobody would ever guess you'd say something like that but he knew you did. He heard you say it and he really liked it—

"Sir do you mind taking a look at mine?" A student asked snapping him out of his thoughts. He had to look around to find where he was still a couple feet behind. He didn't bother responding as he started working that way not noticing the way your eyes followed after him making you smudge a mark across your paper. With a small annoyed huff you worked on cleaning it up again.

After class you were one of the last to leave the room. You've been thinking about him nonstop but because of the positions you're in, you shouldn't. But in reality, you were two adults who happened to have sex. There was a sense of sexual attraction and honestly, hooking up with someone other than your ex definitely did something to you. Considering the fact that he definitely seemed affected by your presence in class, you found yourself staying another late evening at the studio making sure Taehyung saw you the next time he passed by the room.

He did see you again a couple hours later. He was locking up his classroom ready to leave at the end of the day finding you through the door's window. His steps faltered, head turning as he looked at his surroundings. Then, he was pushing the door open letting himself into the studio. The other side of the room was all glass windows since it face the courtyard but it was dark out there. In the room all the lights were off too minus a lamp by your table and a light above the sink.

You turned instantly with the sound of the door finding him standing by it. He ran his fingers through his hair that had been casually combed back. His other hand was stuffed in the pocket of his corduroy slacks with his tote bag hanging off his shoulder. He licked his lips nervously, "I just came to let you know that the custodian will be around."

"Thank you for the reminder sir," you said with your back to him to hide a playful smile, "Or is it Taehyung? I forgot."

His breath hitched as he stared at you from across the room. You turned to look at him, the lamp above your head creating a shadow in your facial feature but appearing like a spotlight only for you. It made him feel further into the shadow at the corner he stood. He really wanted you, but it just didn't feel like he should. He was your mentor. He was nine years older. You were a college student and he was your teacher. It definitely wasn't right. But he was just so attracted to you in this moment.

"Well it depends on what we're doing," he answered absentmindedly realizing a second too late his response was flirty. He had no reason to be in the studio at this moment but he made up an excuse to go in anyway just because he wanted to see you again.

When you finished cleaning up you were walking toward him. He looked down at you through a hazy gaze as you reached for the door handle pulling it open. Taehyung simply followed behind calmly as you spoke, "Did you have a good weekend?"

His pace slowed for a second trying to unravel your question and the subtle approach you took. He's quickly realizing you're a bit promiscuous. Your nonchalant hints of something more that only he could understand but everyone else thought nothing of it. You were a tease but you hid it so well. He thought for a moment about how to word his response, "My weekend was great, and yours?"

"Oh it was really fun," you answered as the two of you walked down the path through the courtyard, "I haven't been able to stop thinking about it."

"Mhm," Taehyung hummed in acknowledgment looking around again to see if anyone was around, "I can imagine what that's like. Hopefully you have more like it."

Your eyes met in a side glance as the split in the sidewalk separating the parking lot from your bus stop. He played with his keys like he did the night at the lounge bar, "Going to wait for a bus?"

"That's the plan unfortunately, unless someone were to come around and take me home," you said with a shrug looking away from him the further you walked down your split sidewalks. Teahyungs voice the further he got from you, "I'm sure someone would love to drive you home."

So you said your farewells and you sat at the bus stop nervously. Maybe you were a little too obvious with you felt and he was probably worried. He most likely regretted getting involved with you.

Of course that was the opposite. He knew he shouldn't but really it was because of the university. Aside from that there was nothing wrong with being attracted to someone younger. You were both adults. That's why he was rushing to his car pulling out of the driveway and going around the corner to the bus stop. He waited a few yards back from the bus stop flashing his emergency lights at you and in an instant you were up and walking to the car. He rolled the window down flashing you a smile as you opened the door.

He did end up giving you a lift but it wasn't to your apartment, it was to his.

"I don't know if I'm going crazy, but I've got this feeling that you're seeing someone," Jungkook told you with narrowed eyes. He was currently walking you to your class before going home. He always had shorter days than you and Bora since he worked in the afternoon but he always hung out with you two.

"I'm not seeing anyone," you told him simply as the two of you walked along the sidewalk. Jungkook just hummed in acknowledgment as he carried your canvas for you.

"Yeah, sure you aren't," Jungkook responded, "You don't have to tell me if it's supposed to be a secret. Is it supposed to be a secret? Oh my god are you dating someone in a relationship?"

"Why would I become a homewrecker when I've been cheated on?" You asked him clearly displeased with his assumption. He shrugged staring down the hall to the studio, "I'm just curious why you're keeping it on the low. Is he like, not someone you should be with?"

"I'm pretty sure I told you I'm not seeing anyone," you responded back to him entering your classroom. Taehyung was standing at his desk watching everyone walk in when he noticed the same tatted guy helping you with your canvas.

"Jungkook! Hey man, what are you doing here?" One of the other students called out to him. It was Seungjin, he was in your department and you knew each other better through Jungkook. Occasionally you'd talk but not always. He came over to where you and Jungkook were to talk as you got all your things settled.

Taehyung found you standing in the middle of two guys smiling over whatever they said watching the one with tattoos pull you into his side. Technically, class hasn't started but he can't stand the sight. Just a couple days ago you were wrapped in your professor's bedsheets sleeping soundly next to him. Now you're here with two guys your own age who were making you smile and laugh.

He shouldn't be surprised you had a lot of male friends. You were clearly well known around campus and people always approached you during class. Even at your job he found all the guys behind the counter trying to impress you with whatever. Even Jimin and Yoongi commented on your looks so really, this was normal. You had a boyfriend before of six months who cheated on you—which Taehyung would never understand why—but you also told him about other past relationships. Taehyung felt like he was different than your usual type and though he could say the same about you, right now he's getting annoyed.

He smiled down at the papers on his desk but it was anything but genuine. It was a forced smile to remind himself it was alright. It's not like you two could be forward with what's happening, not until you at least graduate next spring. As his class began to fill he finally had the nerve to approach you. If he could just get any guy your age away from you that'd be great. He was 30, he couldn't compete with all the college guys who surrounded you, had the same energy as you, got the same references. Taehyung's a millennial for Christ's sake, you're a Gen Z.

He made his round toward you well calculated. He greeted other students along the way to seem natural before he zoned in on where you were. He got close enough just in time to hear his student, Seungjin, speak, "Let's go drinking tonight, bring Hoseok with too. He hasn't been around in a while."

"Alright so us three and Hoseok? Should I tell Bora too?" Jungkook asked.

"Gentlemen, I'm sure you can continue this conversation outside of the art room," Taehyung's voice was bitter. He didn't want you going out with three guys tonight. He wants to order pizza for the two of you while you go into detail about your art piece for the Spring exhibition at your place. It was definitely a college student's place. He only went in the morning he dropped you off home after spending the night with him. You invited him in for a drink and he was too curious to say no.

Compared to his neat, bachelor pad, yours was chaotic. His place was clean, dark, and modern. Yours was ecliptic, slightly unorganized with paints and brushes everywhere. Thick woven throw blankets and patterned pillows. Hanging plants that were halfway between dying and thriving. You had vinyls piled in a corner with books. You had colored LED lamps, it was basically like a hippie fest at your place. He liked it though, compared to his place yours was warm and welcoming. He liked that he could see little pieces of you everywhere he turned.

When he first moved into his own place it felt cold. He never lived on his own like that. From his childhood when he lived with his family to college when he lived with roommates and finally when he lived with his ex wife.

Jungkook looked up at your professor who seemed slightly out of focus staring at your canvas. Jungkook's never gotten an up close look at him but Bora was right, he was an attractive guy and you seemed slightly awkward now that he was here. He looked between you two, his best friend senses tingling when he watched the way Taehyung bit into his lower lip when you brushed your fingers through your hair. Seungjin was too busy apologizing to the man telling him they'll get right to work.

"Sorry Professor Kim, I'll get going now," Jungkook said warily as he went and shoved your head to the side playfully, "Am I picking you up after?"

Before you could respond Taehyung was cutting in, "Actually I've asked miss Y/n to stay behind, we've got some discussing to do about her piece for the Spring Art Exhibit."

Obviously he hadn't but you didn't even dare to deny his claims looking to Jungkook, "I'll text you, go, you're interrupting class time."

"Once again, I apologize sir, I'll be leaving now," Taehyung had to resist the urge to roll his eyes as he nodded. Jungkook bowed respectfully before turning around to leave, glancing back at you two to catch your Professor glaring at Seungjin who was pulling his things closer to you.

Jackpot, Jungkook thought when his eyes caught sight of a small purple bruise peaking out from under the collar of the professor's shirt. He was clearly seeing someone too and Jungkook's curious to know who.

Taehyung returned to the front of the room after continuing his round around his students and started his lecture on surrealism. Seungjin sat next to you now that he'd been talking to you and Jungkook and you didn't mind. You'd hung out with him a few times outside of class and he was fun to be around. Still though, you couldn't focus on what he would say when you were so focused on Taehyung.

Had he been jealous because of them? Or was he annoyed that you were delaying class time? After class would he keep you around to tell you, 'Just because we're having sex doesn't mean you can do whatever you want in my class' or was that just an excuse so Jungkook wouldn't be able to pick you up?

"Sir if it's alright with you, I'd like to discuss my work for the exhibit too," another student pointed out at the end of class. Taehyung huffed in annoyance as he looked up to find you waiting as well. You looked away, "I could always come after my last class? That way you two could discuss privately?"

He tried hiding his smile. Obviously he wanted you alone, not with another student there so he nodded in agreement watching you leave. He had to work on keeping things lowkey. You're way better at it than he is. To be fair he's been out of the game for ten years and he never had to keep a relationship a secret before.

"Perfect! I was just coming to find you, are you coming with Jungkook and I to find costumes for the party this weekend?" Bora asked once you'd left the classroom.

"What party?" You asked confused. She gasped dramatically, "The costume party! Halloween in Spring, as Hobi calls it. Jungkook's waiting by the gate."

"I've still got one more class and then I've gotta meet Professor Kim and talk about the Spring Exhibit," you told her.

Bora laughed, "Yeah you should have your discussion while riding his face."

"What?" You sounded on edge and it only made Bora laugh harder.

"I'm kidding obviously, but I'd gladly sit on his face," Bora said with a shrug, "Alrighty then, text me later and I can go shopping with you tomorrow if you don't have time today. Jungkook and I are just going to get an idea before we meet up with the others tonight for drinks."

"K, bye love you," you waved her goodbye as you went to your last class for the day. You couldn't focus on it though, not when you kept thinking about Taehyung. That's why the second it was over you were rushing over to his room.

Luckily there was no one around when you let yourself in and he barely gave you a glance before pointing to a box of painting palettes, "Mind helping carry those to the storage room?"

You nodded taking the box as he took another one before walking you to the back of the room. He opened the door to storage room and let you in first looking around through the windows to make sure nobody was watching. Then, he entered closing the two of you in as you set the boxes down. The second he turned to you, you were jumping in his arms. Taehyung's hands went to your waist holding you up as your lips met in a hungry kiss that had him groaning in want.

After some time kissing like that he set you back down but his arms didn't leave your waist keeping you close. He looked down at you, "What are you doing this weekend? Let's go out of town."

You made a pout that had his eyes rounding in curiosity and anticipation searching yours for answers. You looked down hugging around his middle section, "My friend's throwing this costume party on Saturday and everyone I know is going. If I don't go they're going to get suspicion."

"Well just tell them you'll be seeing someone but you're keeping it private," he said hopefully squeezing you in his hold a little more. You just fit so perfectly in his arms despite the taboo of it all.

"I've tried but they won't quit. Trust me, once Jungkook and Bora get suspicious that's a wrap. Jungkook is like a ducking detective when it comes to other people's business," you explained watching the way his jaw clenched as he looked away from you sadly. You rested your head on him, "What about next weekend? Are you free then?"

"I'm free, I can make reservations now," Taehyung said biting his lip, "Alright I'll go out first, make sure the coast is clear."

You nodded watching him turn to the door before stopping to look back at you, "Since I can't spend the weekend with you, maybe you can give me tonight? We can order in, watch a movie..." He seemed strangely nervous as he spoke.

Jungkook and Seungjin did make dinner plans tonight but you didn't care much about that. You'd rather get laid and spend the night with a guy who interests you. You don't want to jump into things so quickly because you could easily get hurt. It didn't change the fact that you felt safe and comfortable with him. Even when you just saw him as a mentor, yeah he could be strict but he was also very good at consolation. He'd constantly tell you how talented you were and that you shouldn't forget that even when you're feeling down.

Then obviously you're getting closer to him so it's not bad to want to spend time together. Were you dating? Not that you know of? Would you consider him to be the only man you're sleeping with? Yes. Could say that same about him to you? Probably? He didn't seem like the type to mess around with just anyone and you've been talking on the phone on nights you can't see each other.

"Then, should I wait for you down the street?" You asked once he signed that the coast was clear. You both left the room stalling as you got to the door.

"Of course, make sure you do your school work too."

"Yes sir, I'll work on it tonight," you said as the two of you stood outside now. He bit his lip to hide a smile, "Well have a good night."

"You two, thank you," you said your goodbyes as you walked in opposite directions. Then, like a constant cycle, he was picking you up in his car.

On Friday night you spent the night at Taehyung's place. It's crazy how quick the two of you have progressed but it didn't feel forced. It's like, when it was just you two you could forget about the fact he was your professor. Even when he'd quite literally tutor you for some of your required course it didn't feel like he was your teacher.

The main reason you spent the night is because you wouldn't be able to see him this weekend other than Saturday morning. Tonight you'll have Hobi's party and you had to work Sunday and Monday night. You had already dedicated next week as crunch time for your paintings so you really weren't going to be seeing him outside of class and the art studio.

So, he drove you about fifty minutes out of the city to some expensive rooftop restaurant for lunch. You wanted to spend as much of today as you could with him before Bora would be getting to your house to get ready for tonight. The restaurant was far enough and way too expensive for any of your class mates to be here so it was the perfect place for a nice lunch date. Taehyung clearly had money from his career and his parents so it wasn't a question that he'd want to treat you to something nice. He wore a YSL cream colored button up shirt and black slacks while you wore a little black dress.

The two of you walked in with linked arms letting the hostess lead you to a table while you talked. You look extra pretty today. You wore light make up that accentuated your features and your hair was styled in a way that really suited you. He couldn't keep his eyes off you, if he could he would've noticed the waking nightmare about to cross paths with him.

"Tae?" His blood ran cold as the two of you looked up, the hostess waiting at your table for the two of you. You stared at the woman and man in front of you. She looked you up and down and you did the same shamelessly. She had black hair up to her shoulders and bright red lipstick. She wore a white blouse and grey pencil skirt. An ugly pencil skirt in your opinion.

"Jihyun..." Taehyung cleared his throat and it didn't take you long to realize who this woman was. The man was quiet but he looked uncomfortable yet you felt his eyes travel down to your exposed legs. You knew this must be his ex wife and you expected Taehyung to take his arm away from your hold. It must be awkward for him to be seen with you. You were obviously sticking out from the more mature group in appearance.

"Oh, uh, it's nice to see you doing well," Jihyun said with a forced smile. You wondered if the man was the coworker she cheated on Taehyung with. His arm almost pulled you even closer to his side, "Yes, I am doing well. Oh, this is Y/n."

You gave them a tight smile leaning into Taehyung more. He smiled at that, "It looks like our table is ready so we'll get going now."

"Was that your ex?" You asked once the two of you were to the table. Taehyung nodded before flashing you a smile, "But let's not think about that. This is our first official date so let's make the most of it before we have to get going."

Without thinking you leaned across the table and placed a soft kiss on his cheek before going back to looking at the menu. Before the food arrived you excused yourself to the restroom. It was windy and you could not have your hair all over the place. While you were in there you reapplied a light layer of lipgloss as a stall opened.

You couldn't believe your luck when the cheating hag—you mean Jihyun—came out. It made you smile a little as you wiped up the corners of your lips. She gave you a look as she went to wash her stupid musty hands right next to you.

"Taehyung seems to be doing well lately," Jiyeon said washing her hands. It was the second time she'd said it like she expected him to be crying in his room, "I've known him for a very long time an—"

"I don't really care how long you've known him," you flashed her a perfectly fake smile, "And of course he's doing well. Why wouldn't he?"

Jihyun pursed her lips in annoyance, "I'm surprised when he didn't introduce you as someone he's seeing. He only said your name, it's very strange."

If Taehyung wasn't going to do anything that's alright but she's clearly judging your appearance and possibly your age and relationship with him too.

"I really like your skirt," you added with another fake smile, "Only some women can pull off that kind of look. Unfortunately it's not for me, it's too bland?"

She scoffed as she ran her hands under the sink water, "It's office attire, but you look a little too young to know anything about that."

"Oh to be young and beautiful, do you miss those days?" You said finally closing your little handbag. In fact she was only 30 but if she was going to act like this then you would too. You ran your fingers through your hair one last time and check the back of your dress in the mirror, "I'll go first since Tae is waiting for me."

You began to walk away, Jihyun stayed at the mirror for a second trying to process what is happening. You must've been more important than she thought because it looked like you clearly knew who she was. You were bitchy but that wasn't the main problem. The main problem was that you were... everything Jihyun wished she could be when she was younger. She doesn't know your age but Taehyung was surprised he could even attract someone like you. The Taehyung she knew would never be into someone like you.

He had always had a sort of timid, mysterious nature on the outside and Jihyun had been the same. That's why it was so easy for them two to get close so long ago. Jihyu had always felt insecure when it came to the confident appearance as girls like you but Taehyung always assured her he never cared for looks like that. Clearly that been nothing but a lie if he is with you.

She barely made it out the restroom's entrance when she stopped in her tracks.

She had a clear view of your table, right by the glass ledge of the rooftop. Taehyung's smile was bright as he laughed over something you said and when she looked closer his hand was in yours.

He had never been the type to be openly affectionate. It had been years since he last looked at her that way. Maybe it was her mind playing tricks on her but Taehyung had never looked at her with that gleam in his eyes like he was giving you.

"Can I come over tonight?" You asked tracing swils with your finger on his hand, "After the party I mean or will that be too late?"

You're not sure if Taehyung seeing his ex actually affected him or if he was genuinely okay but whatever it was you wanted to make sure he was okay. He already told you he'd be playing tennis later with his friends but later tonight maybe he'd want to see you.

"Hm, it will be late but I can pick you up from the party if you don't care. I don't want you driving a cab so late especially if you'll be drinking," he said as he used his free hand to eat while the other held yours.

"Aw, sir aren't you just so sweet? Maybe we can reenact our first night together in my bunny costume tonight," you said it to tease him but you were also being serious. He was so attractive you swear you could just eat him up.

Taehyung nearly choked on his water but he couldn't help but smile, "it's barely noon and you're already thinking of that?"

He felt the tip of your foot against his leg, pulling on his pant leg teasingly. You gave him an innocent smile, "No, I just think about you and then I think about how much I want you."

He placed a kiss to your knuckles, "Always so eager."

"For you."

::.

this flopped so bad last time so pls YALL 😭

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#kim taehyung #Taehyung smut #kim taehyung smut #taehyung drabble #kim taehyung bts #taehyung au #bts taehyung #taehyung fic #taehyung oneshot #taehyung angst #taehyung #taehyung x you #taehyung x y/n #taehyung one shot #bts

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yuyu1024 · 3 months ago

Text

Vanilla

Pairings: Seonghwa × y/n

Genre/tags: non idol, fwb

Warning: 🔞🔞🔞 smut, fluff, pet names (babes, baby, love etc.), cursing, mention of fingering, unportected/protected sex, kinks (size, breeding, tits, etc)

~~~ [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 1.2k

Disclaimers:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

A/N: just smut. Just had an idea becausw of that clip.. 😆 i swear im a good person.

Anyways. Have a nice day

----------------------------------------------------

You fell asleep in the car. Wooyoung is driving, San is at the passenger seat at front while you and Seonghwa are at the back.

You do get car sick a little especially if its a long drive so you force yourself to sleep whenever you are travelling. But you are glad Seonghwa is sitting next to you and so he can be someone you can lean on when you don't feel the best. Coz you know, for sure he will do whatever it takes to make you feel better.

Hmm...sometimes a little too better.

***

While Wooyoung and San are busy arguing at front, talking about something who is right or wrong when it comes to planning this short trip, Seonghwa is busy making sure you forget about feeling dizzy. He knows that the magic of his fingers in your pussy will be the trick to get your senses up high.

"So fucking tight..." He whispers as he pretends to fix the blanket you have on both of you, to cover the sinful act underneath. "But you take my fingers so well..." he smiles as he dig deep in you, like knuckles deep.

"Hmmm..." you try to control your breathing and make sure you are quiet. "Faster..." you push your body closer to Seonghwa as he puts his free hands over your shoulders so that you are leaning on his body. "Faster..."

"Baby... they will hear it if I go faster... you're so fucking wet." He whispers, bending his fingers in your to prove his point. You can literally hear your wetness. You are so glad that the two are playing some music. It helps with thr cover up

You close your eyes, enjoying the friction and the motion inside of you whilst hugging his torso for support. He is pushing in and out of your pussy slow but deliciously.

"I'll go and buy snacks... you guys want any?" Wooyoung asks as he parks the car.

"I want everything." San answers all smile. "But I need to go to the bathroom first. I need to pee really bad."

"Okay... go there first then just follow me to the food section." Woo says

"A bottle of water and lemonade for us... potatoes, hotteoks and dried squid." Seonghwa answers

Wooyoung looks back and sees that you are sweating and looking a bit pale. "Is she still not feeling well?"

"She's doing better... she just does not want to move yet coz she still feels dizzy..." Seonghwa answers. "I'll keep her company while you two buy food and drinks."

"Okay. I'll put the AC on blast to cool her down..." Woo did that. "Text us if you think of anything more that you need okay?"

"Sure."

And then the second, Wooyoung and San slam their doors shut and make their way to the bathroom and the foodcourt, you finally opened your eyes and mouth to let the loudest moan you've been holding on for the longest minute.

"Fuck!" You gasp pushing the blanket off your body, revealing Seonghwa's busy hands finger fucking you. "Damn it...fuck...so fucking good... aaahhh..."

Your hips kept moving along with his movements. You can't help but spread your legs even more for him to see your wet pussy.

You don't even give a damn if a someone walking pass by the car might see you. Though you know you are safe as the car is tinted and its so bright outside that they won't even have time to really adjust their vision.

"You're such a good girl keeping quiet..." he kisses you on the forehead and then your lips. "You're so naughty wanting me to go faster... do you want Wooyoung and San to hear us? Do you enjoy having the idea of us getting caught? Hmm...?"

You grab him by his face and suck the life out of his mouth. Seonghwa really knows how to turn you own and make you feel so naughty. The way he speaks to you and his choice or words. Simple yet very effective for someone vanilla you. "God, I can't wait to put my dick in you once we arrive at the hotel..." he hits the spot in you as he speaks, "And I would fill you up with my cum and make sure you'd come home with wanting more..."

"Yes! Please!" You cry. "I want you in me..."

"You do?" He smirks and then playfully bites your tit. "You're not scared? I didn't bring any condom with me..."

"I don't care. Just.. ahh!" You take a deep breathe as he picks up his pace "Seonghwa...more faster... please.... I need to come... I'm going crazy!"

"Sssshh.... don't worry... I'll give you what you need." His smile is so evil. But so alluring.

You can't believe it that your friend, one of your bestfriend will be the guy who would wreck you like this. The guy who will give thrill into your sex life. The guy you are willing to be fucked by without protection even though technically you two are not dating.

You're just... fucking.

"S-seonghwa... please!"

He then pulls his fingers off you, getting a whine from you. However, that didn't last long as he positioned you to face him and looks at you like you are about to be devoured.

He goes to put both your legs over his shoulders to have more access and dive his face to your pussy.

"Holy fuck!!" You groan as you felt his tongue go ham over your wet folds. He eats you like its his breakfast, lunch and dinner all together. "Fucking fuck!" You throw your head back, holding on to whatever you can grab on and cry your climax like you've never climaxed before.

This is one heck of an orgasm. You leaked and at the same time cried with tears of satisfaction.

"You're so delectable..." he says licking his lips that is glossed up by your cum. "Let me clean you up baby..." he finds a small towel in his bag and wiped you up. "I don't want them to see your juices... its all mine to taste and see..."

"My... underwear..." you say, catching your breathe as you fix yourself up.

"What underwear?" He tilts his head, biting his lower lip.

"Seonghwa..." you giggle as you hit him om his chest. "Give it back to me..."

He shakes his head. "No baby..." he leans in and kisses you on the lips. You can taste yourself as he pushes his tongue in your mouth. "I'll return it... once I'm done planting my seeds in you tonight... I need to see you get mind blown later..."

"I'm always mind blown when we fuck... you know that."

He arches one brow and looking at you with suched pleased look. "Oh baby, it's different when it's raw... you'll like it even more..."

"I can't wait."

He kisses you on the corner of your lips once more before he puts the blanket back on you. "I'll text you my room number and code later."

#yuyu1024 #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #atz x reader #ateez x female reader #ateez smut #kpop fanfic #seonghwa smut #seonghwa x y/n #seonghwa x reader #ateez park seonghwa #kpop smut #kpop fanfiction #atz x seonghwa #ateez x you #ateez x fem reader

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julieloves074 · 1 year ago

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Everything (Conrad Fisher x Y/n)

Summary: Y/n had won the battle against cancer at the age of ten but no one expected it to come back. When the truth comes to light the perfect summer crashes down around them. Especially for Conrad, Y/n is his love, his life, his everything

Warnings: Cancer, sadness, swearing, angst

Words: 7.4K

(Not my GIF :))

Summer in Cousins was the one time of year I felt truly free, nothing really mattered there. Then again, everything mattered there. Belly liked to say nothing existed outside of summer, all the other seasons were just a pass by for it, and I couldn’t argue with her.

This was exactly why I wanted one last perfect summer. Mom told me that I wasn’t being fair, that this was going to be worse for everyone but wasn’t I allowed to be selfish? For once? I knew she couldn’t see it the way I did. I wanted Belly to have her first summer of real fun without having to worry about me. I wanted to see Jeremiah and Steven act stupid all summer without feeling like they needed to slow down for me. I wanted to see Conrad to be happy for one more summer, with me.

And everything was going so well, for the most part. Just like any other summer there was drama: Belly with her new friend Cam Cameron and Jeremiah, Steven with Taylor and Shaila but it was our kid problems, nothing more than that until tonight.

“Y/n you are not allowed to go!” My mother shouted as I made my way downstairs at eight o’clock.

“Stop babying me for God’s sake! I’m telling you I feel fine, I’ll be back in a couple of hours!” I screamed back, I just wanted to go to a party with my friends, I knew I had limits now and that I had to be careful. Still, I couldn’t stay locked in forever.

“Y/n you are getting weaker, are you trying to give your father and I a heart attack?” she asked, her voice still raised but there was a falter, it made me turn right around on my heel. There she was, standing on the top step with tears in her eyes. I could feel my own gloss over. I took a deep breath and looked up in an attempt to stop any tears falling, I was only wearing waterproof mascara but still-

“You’re our little girl and we just want to protect you,” Mom said, face flooded now, lowering to sit on the top stair, she was getting more tired now too.

“Mom I’m eighteen, I don’t know if I will make it through chemo this time and I can’t let it make me live in fear. I won’t let it make me hide around my room if this is my last summer,” I said with urgency and plea.

“It’s going to be a long program Y/n, and it’s going to take lots of strength, both physical and emotional but don’t you dare say you are not going to make it. You will beat it. We just don’t want you to get overwhelmed,” Dad’s voice echoed gently as he came out of our kitchen and pulled me into a hug.

“I know-” I paused looking between both of them, my cardigan in one hand and phone in my other, “I’ve signed up for the program and I will fight this cancer again but there’s nothing I can do now but wait around until the first round of chemo begins again, and who knows what I’ll be able to do after it?” I asked, I didn’t know whether I would live, and if I did how long I’d be weak, I didn’t want to miss out on these teenage years.

I felt dad brush his hand down my arm with a sigh, he looked up to mom who shook her head and couldn’t lift her gaze.

“I know, I’m sorry honey, but you know that if anything happens you call us right away, no matt-“ she began, standing up, but I cut her off.

“No matter where I am, no matter what I’m doing and there will be no questions asked,” I finished off for her, she smiled weakly and started making her way down to dad and I.

“Or you call for medical help first depending on what’s happening,” she informed me, at this point she’s said this to me so many times that I have the words tattooed inside my brain.

“I love you guys,” I said as they both squeeze me tightly just before a car horn sounds outside.

“Tell Connie we said hi and ask him to tell his mom we’ll bring that extra table for the barbeque party tomorrow when we come over for dinner,” Mom relayed to me as I slipped on my shoes.

“I will do,” I said quickly opening the door to slide out. I saw him first, Conrad Fisher, sat behind the wheel, his contagious smile and beautifully messy hair. Then I saw them, Belly, Jeremiah and Steven sat in the back all looking at Belly’s phone who sat in the middle, they were all laughing. I couldn’t believe the summer was nearly at it’s end and I got to spend it these wonderful, and slightly annoying, people.

“Omg Y/n you have to see this video Tylor filmed! This girl just found out her boyfriend was cheating on her with her best friend so both she and the best friend chucked milkshakes at him! I’m so glad Taylor filmed this!” Belly exclaimed the second I opened the car door, pushing from up from her seat and shoving the phone in my face, I didn’t even get time to look before she leaned back and sat down muttering “Damn, Harry is not gonna have fun at school this year,”.

We all broke into a laughter, I turned to Connie who had his eyes on me since the moment I got in the car, I started relaying my parent’s message about the chairs and he leant over to kiss me.

“Okay we get it, you guys are in love but we have a party to get to!” Jeremiah exclaimed grabbing on my headrest to lean his body forwards into our space. I let out a laugh pulling away from Conrad.

“I love you,” he mouthed to me, I did the same back before he turned to his focus to the car and reversing in my driveway. The journey to the house party, I didn’t even know who was hosting this one, was filled with laughter and teasing to the point that Belly had actual tears running down her face.

“I am so glad you made me invest into waterproof mascara Y/n!” Belly said running her fingers under her eyes wiping away the tears. I loved having Belly around, another girl was great to have around, her being like a little sister to me. Even though it came with both its ups and downs of siblings like all the clothes she would ‘borrow’ and never give back, but she’s a good kid.

The party is looking well underway when we arrive, there’s flashing, changing lights to be seen through the windows and the music is echoing down the street. Some new trending song is blasting as we walk through the door. Belly quickly runs off to meet some friends she made at the country club, Jere was dragged away by some good looking guy whom he looked more than friendly with leaving me, Connie and Steven to head to the drinks table.

“Are you actually gonna drink with us tonight Y/n/n?” Steven asked leaning a cup in my direction. I really wanted to, I couldn’t express to anyone how much I wanted to fully let loose, drink away my worries for the night. But I couldn’t.

“Nah I’m good,” I tried to play it off cool, but he started play arguing with me.

“Alright let it go Steven,” Con said after a minutes, I lay my hand on his arm in a silent thanks.

“Okay well I’ll leave you loser to it I’ve just spotted Shayla coming in,” he announced already walking backwards to the beautiful girl.

“Are you alright?” Con’s voice pulled me away from the vision of Steven wrapping his arms around her shoulders, he had whispered something in her ear which made her erupt into this blooming, true laugh, they made each other so happy.

“What? Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” I said, pulling on a big smile, it wasn’t exactly a lie. I felt fine, more than fine standing here with him right next to me.

“It’s just you’ve not been wanting to drink, and not to pin you as an alcoholic or anything,” he defends quickly, “But you’re usually first to call shots,” he laughs pulling me closer as some guys come to the drinks table, it still swells my heart, his little tics of jealously and protection.

“I told you, it’s been really bad for my skin recently and I am not sacrificing this,” I reassured pointing to my face, “Plus it’s kind of funny being sober and watching everyone else make fools of themselves,”

“Can’t argue that,” he says, we settle into a comfortable silence, Con wasn’t drinking tonight he was nominated DD, so the two of us had to entertain ourselves sober. We weren’t standing around for too long when Getaway Car by Taylor Swift came on and I dragged him to the little makeshift dance floor in the living room.

We sang to each other as he led our little dance twirling me around every once in a while. Loads of the girls including Belly joined us screaming along to the bridge.

“God you’re perfect you know that? I think I’ll be crazy about you forever,” Con half shouted over the last chorus and I just shook him off with a gentle shove

“I love you,” I said pulling him into a massive hug. The second the song ended we noticed Jere and Steven stood in the doorway calling Con over, some kid was doing flip tricks on the trampoline and in their words ‘It was so sick! He’ll probably actually be sick if he doesn’t take a break!’

Connie was hesitant to leave me for a second, but I pushed him to the boys, they deserved his time as much as I did. I turned to the girls, and we danced to whatever song came on next, and the next and the next. By the fourth or fifth song I started to feel lightheaded.

“I’m just gonna find a bathroom real quick,” I shouted over to Belly tapping her shoulder, someone had turned the music up. She nodded and gave me a thumbs up before tipping the rest of her vodka lemonade in her mouth.

The bathroom downstairs had too long of a cue so I headed for the stairs in the entryway. Was someone turning up the music again or was it just the sound echoing in my head? I held onto the railing, but my legs were starting to feel heavier with each step. I had just managed to reach the landing, I wasn’t sure which door led to the bathroom, so I ambled to the closest door, it was a bedroom. A double bed in the center surrounded by deep blue wallpaper. It felt as though I was in the ocean somewhere, drifting away.

The bed frame was not giving me much support, I lowered myself to the ground, there was a small thud as I hid the wooden panels. I don’t think I let out a sound but before I knew it someone was rushing into the room.

“Y/n what’s going on?” the voice asked, I looked up but my sight was hazy, “Y/n?” the voice repeated, it was Steven taking a few careful steps towards me.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine just a little tired, I think I overheated a little downstairs I should have been drinking more water,” I said attempting to shoo him away with my hands, but in reality, I didn’t want him to leave, I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to get up without him.

“Y/n you’ve been off all summer so cut the bullshit, since when do we lie to each other?” he asked coming closer, his honestly sounded sober.

“My,” I start and feel something bubbling within me, I cried for an hour when I was diagnosed again, then I told myself I wasn’t allowed to again until after summer, I was allowed to be happy and excited for the summer without thinking about- “My cancers back Steven, and I-”

“I’m sorry you what?” Steven asked cutting me off, as if an animated character his jaw actually dropped, he was kneeling next to me in seconds, pulling me into a hug. I shut my eyes wishing that I had left earlier or taken a night off and rested like mom had suggested, “Conrad! Get in here,” Steven shouted repeatedly brushing a hand through my hair.

“What? Y/n? What happened? Steven what happened?” Conrad asked manically flinging himself to meet his body to mine, “Are you okay?” He asked again as he got no answer to his first lot of questions. He brushed his hand down my arm.

“I’m so sorry,” I let out with a sob, shaking my head from side to side, I saw Belly run in confused with Jeremiah behind her. Others seemed to be crowding at the door but Jere quickly shut it firmly, announcing “Nothing to see here! Go grab some alcohol and make out or whatever,” before turning his attention back to me.

Now this was truly my worst nightmare, they were all looking at me, apart from Steven who had curled up and looked at the floor next to me.

“I’m sorry that I ruined our last summer together,” I said

“Y/n what are you talking about, what happened?” Belly asked brushing some hair out of my face.

“It’s back and I- I don’t think it’ll go away this time,” I whisper as if saying it out loud would mean that it was true, that I was hurting everyone around me once again.

“What’s back?” Jere asks nonchalantly at first before a realization hits him “You don’t mean-” at this Belly burst into a wail.

I looked up at Conrad, he was just staring at me, I couldn’t read his reaction at all. I brushed my hands up and down his arms, it was as if he was frozen it time. I needed him to say something, just that action was wearing me out.

“Come on let’s get you home,” Jere said, his eyes red, he was trying to be a voice of reason, be the one who doesn’t break down so he can support the rest of us. When had he become this grown up? “This isn’t a place for a conversation like this,”.

I can’t quite place what emotion was flowing through me as I was basically carried out of the house with one arm around Con the other around Steven. The whole thing seemed in slow motion to me, all the faces in the crowd of my friends and drunk strangers. How many of them realize what’s actually happening and how many of them simply thought I’d gotten hysterically drunk?

The ride back to my house was quiet other than Belly’s phone call to my mom and then Susannah and Laurel letting them know where they were all going. I was ushered into bed by mom and listened to the heartbroken whispers downstairs in the living room under my bedroom.

Mom and Belly were crying, and dad was trying to calm them down. Conrad was adamant to stay with me whilst dad offered to drive everyone else home as they’d all been drinking. When the front door shut, I heard the footsteps that shuffled upstairs.

“Connie,” I said as he walked into my room, his expression filled with sorrow and with the limited lighting of my bedside lamp I could swear he too had tears rolling from his eyes and down his beautiful face.

“You’re okay, you’re going to get better,” he said repeating in quiet whispers, whether he was trying to convince me or himself I was not sure but I let him. I pulled up my duvet and moved slightly to give him space.

He touched my hair, my face, my arms gliding his fingers as if I was made of porcelain. The first time I was diagnosed and fighting cancer I was 10 and whilst everyone was gentle with me then now it felt like a different kind of touch. A mixture of so much love and pain that I would do- give anything to make him better.

“I love you, so so much,” I whispered, pulling one of his arms around me, I wanted to feel him, all of him here in this house, our summer place. I was surprised he hadn’t run, when Con got overwhelmed he always ran, hiding was his protection. If I did anything in my life, helping Connie learn a better way to cope, or to start to was the best thing that I did.

“Don’t say it like that,” he whispered back, his eyes were closed tight shut.

“Like what?” I asked cautiously, somehow, I knew what he was going to say, I brushed my fingers through his soft hair, his pre-summer haircut was always my favorite. It wasn’t too long, not too short, just enough to outline his face and perfectly highlight his eyes.

“Like it’s one of the last times you’ll ever say it,” his voice cracked and I kept running my fingers through his locks, soothing him. It’s funny how I’m the one who this has happened to yet I’m the one who’s been reassuring everyone that everything happens for a reason. Maybe it was because I’d lived enough to know what the purest of happiness was and that I’d experienced honest love even though some never do.

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” I kept repeating as if I was counting stars up in the sky or the little sheep jumping over the fence in hopes of falling asleep. I’d said it so much my mouth had started running dry but if that was the price for having this boy, this kind, loving boy in my arms until my end I’d pay it over and over and more.

Unfortunately, the underlying sour mood was carried into the next morning, when I woke up to the glimpse of summer that danced in through the half open curtain Conrad was still asleep. He usually looked peaceful when he slept but this morning even in his most fragile states his brows were creased and his breathing was heavy and uneven. I watched him, when we get back to Boston nothing will ever be the same, and we only have a week left here in Cousins.

I untangled from his arms. I tended to have more strength in the morning but today I gripped onto the white wooden rail as I ambled downstairs and into the kitchen. Walking past the living room I noticed figures asleep on the couch. I smiled to myself when I saw Jeremiah and the Conklin siblings, they never left last night.

The clock hit seven when I walked into the kitchen, mom sat there with her kindle in hand, cup of coffee in front of her, but she stared unfocused at the device The lines under her eyes were darker than last night, she looked exhausted. Dad was at the kitchen counter prepping some eggs, bacon and sausages, the good old English Breakfast. He too looked as though he hadn’t slept.

“Morning sweetheart,” mom said looking up, her whole expression changed from worry to love, and though she tried to hide it the worry was still there, rooted deeply in her skin. I took a step towards her and she rushed out of her chair to grab me into a tight embrace.

A thousand things I wanted to say sat there pooling in my head because I simply couldn’t get them out.

“Your dad went out last night to get some more breakfast supplies, we’re feeding some unexpected- but most welcome mouths this morning,” she conveyed and I just nodded, my head resting in her neck, “I’ve called Princeton this morning and explained the situation, they said depending on how long the treatment is going to take they may move your enrollment to next year just so you don’t fall too far behind,” mom explained and I watched my dad’s feet shuffle towards us. College was the last thing on my mind, everyone here was.

“We also called the hospital and they’ve decided to start your sessions earlier,” dad said, this forced me to pull back.

“What do you mean?” I asked frantically, “We’ve had the date set for the day after we get back! How can I start my treatment earlier if we’ll still be here?” I questioned.

“We’ll be heading back to Boston tomorrow Y/n” mom conveyed, I took another step back. No! I needed this last week here with these people.

“But we agreed-” I tried to reason, to argue.

“I know sweetheart, but your health is more important to us, the doctors were already weary of letting you have the whole summer here anyway,” dad leaned against the kitchen counter with one hand and the other travelled to his forehead, an attempt to brush the physical signs of fear and worry away.

“We’re your parents Y/n, we just want what’s best,” mom reassured, and I knew they were right, they usually tended to be but that didn’t mean I had to be happy about it.

“The moms have organized a day full of fun and the celebratory barbeque dinner tonight,” Belly, who was now leaning against the doorframe between the living room and the kitchen, said.

“We’re all leaving tomorrow Y/n, we’re going to be there with you every step of the way,” Jeremiah said, his stunning ocean eyes expressing the purest admiration, his one hand was around Belly’s waist. A side of my mouth twisted up in a sly smile. I had predicted this years ago, Con owed me fifty bucks now.

“Oh my- come here the both of you right now,” I demanded, I took a few steps towards them but they did most of the work.

“I want in too!” Steven, voice all groggy and half asleep, demanded as he jogged towards us. We stood there hugging for longer than we ever have, it was nice and warm.

We all sat around the table playing a round of uno as dad started to make breakfast, mom offered to help to give us the space, she knew we got far too competitive when it came to this game.

I had two cards left, the least out of all when Jeremiah spoke up from next to me, “Connie isn’t taking it well, he went outside at around three in the morning and he just sobbed, I thought you needed to know” his eyes with sympathetic and glossed over.

“I just don’t want him to shut everyone out now,” I said knowing that the boy had a thing for bottling up his emotions until they finally explode. He stayed last night but who knew which was his mood would sway today.

“He’s going to be around, he’ll be here for you, we all will,” Jeremiah reassured.

The day went by faster than anyone wanted, Conrad came down perfectly in time for breakfast, he pulled a chair to sit next to me. Just like his usual self he wanted to be near me, touching me at all times, whether it was his shoulder brushing mine, a hand on thigh or his head on my shoulder. After breakfast we when back to Susannah’s house and sat on their private stretch of beach. Then we competed in a murder mystery game that us kids created when we were twelve. It was actually pretty intriguing even for the moms and dad.

“I can’t believe you kept stored away for six years mom,” Jere said to which Susannah replied with a knowing motherly smile and pulled another clue card.

Then we went to the pier, had ice cream and I absolutely crushed everyone at the arcade games winning most of the challenges, the great showdown occurred yet again even though Laurel banned it all those years ago. Then we headed back for dinner at the beach house, Jere and Steven operated the grill, we all sat around talking and I managed enough energy to play a quick round of water polo in the newly upgraded heated pool.

Through the whole day Conrad was never more than a few feet away from me. He managed to upkeep a smile most of the time, but when he thought I couldn’t see it faltered. I always knew he was a good one.

At around eleven mom and dad headed back home whilst the rest of us cuddled up on the couches to watch some romcom on Netflix. About halfway through Belly decided she wanted popcorn, so we took a pause and Susannah said she wanted to brush my hair. She loved doing both mine and Belly’s hair, we were her honorary daughters so of course I let her. One of the many things I love about her is that no matter the weather, or what was going on she was a ray of sunshine. I don’t mean that she was always happy, but she always held out hope and guided everyone to the other side of any storm cloud.

After the movie had finished and we got a good hour into the titanic most of us were dozing off, Susannah started shooing everyone off to bed. She too went upstairs leaving Conrad and I sat on the sofa. I looked at him as soon as the whole floor was clear. My eyes asked the quiet question, begged the questions.

“Are you sure? Do you feel like you have enough strength?” he asked, and I smiled, my brain scanned through images of this boy as we grew up, side by side and through all of it he stayed true just like his mom.

“What have we been doing for the past four hours if not sitting and laying around?” I asked lifting my brows in a giggle.

He shook his head slightly and half a smirk managed to make it onto his face, “It’s been a long busy day, that’s all I’m saying,” he defended himself.

“I know, but I’m fine I promise, let’s go!” I encouraged lifting from the couch and pulling him up by his arm. It didn’t take much convincing, when he stood, he gave me a long, slow kiss before resting his arm around my shoulder. We fit together perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle finally put together.

We walked down the sandy path towards their private part of the beach, nudging each other and giggling just like the night Conrad first kissed me, just like the night he had asked me to be his girlfriend. Most, if not all our important milestones happened here at the beach house.

“Do you know what?” He asked breaking the silence, even just the sound of his voice was enough to press my body and mind into total peace but also force my heart to beat at an ungodly speed, still after being together for two and a half years.

“What?”

“One day, the day we get married, I’ll scoop you up like this,” he pauses turning to me, I look at him confused for a second as he coddles me in his arms like a princess, I let out a giggle, “and I’ll carry you into this house,” he pointed to the summer house, “then I’ll carry you out back and all the way to the beach and kiss you until the sun goes down and the moon hangs up high in the sky like tonight and never let you go,” he whispered into my ear as we neared the beach.

“Connie,” I began but he shushed me

“I know, I know you don’t like planning that far ahead, but this is non-negotiable, you said we’re allowed one non-negotiable each. You have yours and I have mine,” he said in a manner of fact way, I just laughed and leaned up to kiss him.

“You do know, I know that was all a ruse so that I didn’t have to walk,” I said and he just smiled, “You’re amazing and I love you but please put me down,” I asked, not because I didn’t love to be treated like a princess but because I felt good and I wanted to experience this with him in the way it’s always meant to be.

When we got onto the open part of the beach it was much windier, Con took off his coat leaving him in his jumper and wrapped it around my arms. We listened to the song of the water and watched the waves.

“I can’t believe how lucky I am,” he announced into the night, he’s sat half leaning on his legs.

“Why’s that?” I asked, there were so many things both of us had to be thankful for.

“That I met you, that I have you, that you chose me and let me hold and love you, I think I’m the luckiest man on the planet,” he says, his gaze drifting to the stars above us. Not a single cloud in the sky tonight.

“Do you know what I think is lucky?” I asked laying my head on his shoulder, my eyes getting tired now.

He finally turns to me and smiles, “What?”

“That we both live in Boston,” I said and he shook his head, clearly not what he was expecting. But it was true, our grandparents met at the Cousin’s country club years ago, our grandmothers were friends which then meant our moms were friends, they went to collage together, it was both of their dreams to live in Boston so they moved out there together not expecting to both live in that city for so long but I was so thankful they did because that meant that I got the Fisher boys and Susannah all year round.

It was around the time that we could see the first shades of yellow and orange of the sun that we decided to head back, his sheets were cold but his arms around me were more than enough to keep me warm in the breezy summer night.

The next day mom and dad came round for breakfast, it was a feast ranging from cereal and toast to pancakes with fresh fruits and muffins which Jere and Belly had gone for a morning run for. Just as fast as the breakfast had disappeared, we were all packing up and getting ready to leave.

As I watched the scenery leaving Cousins, I felt guilty that everyone was cutting their trip short, no matter how much they tried to reassure me that it was okay and that they didn’t mind. Still Laurel, Belly and Steven had agreed to say in Susannah’s house in Boston for the week which meant we still got to have that time together before everything went back into motion in September.

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

It was a week after the Conklin’s left that I was told I would be better off shaving off my hair now with it being earlier in the process in order to avoid more emotional highs later on which could affect the medication.

I’d agreed on the terms that Susannah would be the one to do it, together we supported and acted for a hair donation charity which turned hair into wigs for children with cancer, so that’s exactly where my hair was headed.

It was a Friday night, which is always Pizza night, whether ordered in or homemade, one week at our house one week at the Fisher’s. It was that night that I was going to shave all the hair off, the thought wasn’t as scary as I remember it being from the first time around, but I would miss it.

I sit with a towel around my shoulders looking at myself in the mirror of the master bathroom, the boys were both sat in there with my mom, Belly was facetiming us and Susannah stood behind me with the scissors, this was harder for her than for me.

Mom held my hand and dad stood in the doorway with a tight smile. Susannah had braided my hair into two braids and after a nervous laughter and whispering ‘I love you’ she cut the first one, the snip of the scissors was loud in my ears as she worked through the thick of one braid. A breath escaped my lips and quickly enough we were on the second braid. Now Conrad held onto my other hand, the corners of his eyes creasing. And then the other was gone too.

In a way it felt like a weight was lifted off me, I mean it literally had been, my head felt lighter, and I was left with uneven scraps all over my head.

“Hey I dig the short hair!” Jeremiah says hand extended to fist bump me, I felt obliged saying, “Now we know I could steal your hairstyle and still be cooler than you,” I remarked and he pulled a smirk.

“Listen up Y/n/n at least my cut isn’t so uneven,” he laughs

“Well, mine’s about to be more smooth than yours, what you gonna do?” I play intimidated as mom placed my braids into the zip lock bag ready to be posted.

“Some little girl or boy is going to be really happy when they receive that hair you know that Y/n” Susannah said squeezing my shoulders after plugging in the razor. This time I closed my eyes and squeezed Connie’s hand tighter.

When half my head was done, I felt a bit of a breeze but I didn’t want to open my eyes yet, I’ve said many times that hair wasn’t a determining factor in my life but at the end of the day it was a part of me.

“All done,” Susannah said and I could hear a fragile smile in her words, I nodded with my own smile.

Then after a second the sound of the razor when off again and my eyes shot open, before I could stop it I saw Connie’s soft, brown hair falling from his head. He has run a strip right in the middle of his hair.

I leaped out of the stool. But it was too fast, everything around me started spinning slightly and my knees had gone weak. I grabbed the counter in front of me and both mom and Jeremiah leaned forward for support.

“I’m okay,” I say after a second, I closed my eyes and steadied myself, what was actually a matter of a minute felt like hours, but then I was stood again with another reminder: slow.

“Connie what were you thinking?” I asked incredulously and he was just shaking his head smiling, a glimpse of tears in his eyes.

“I’m in this with you, I told you I would be here every step of the way and I will,” he stood right in front of me, his deep blue eyes staring right into my soul, how had I been so lucky to have been granted the love of this boy and everyone else in this room. I pulled him into a tight embrace, retaining his warmth, his touch.

Jere jerked taking the turned off razor out of his brother’s hand and worked it through his own hair. This time everyone gasped, Jeremiah loved his hair.

“Never have I ever thought I’d see that happen. Jere, you obsess over your hair, you love it!” Belly expressed through the phone, now Steven was leaning over her shoulder.

“Yo- you lot are brave!” he exclaimed with laughter; this was how he processed grief. He made jokes and laughed because otherwise it was much too bare, I didn’t blame him, in fact I found it comforting.

“I love my hair but you mean much more Y/n” Jere announced turning back to me and I couldn’t help but let the tears roll down my face now, pulling Jere to join the hug. He will be exactly the one for Belly, he’ll treat her well. I was sure of it.

Now it was my turn to sit on the edge of the tub, Susannah’s arm around me as we watched both her boys get their heads shaved by my mom.

“Well now we’re all gonna look like weirdos every time we leave the house,” I laughed looking at dad.

“And we’re gonna look like some cult parents who forced their kids to shave their heads,” he added back laughing

“I mean we could shave yours too David,” Susannah added, “Then we’ll confuse the narrative,”

“Only if your hair is next,” he challenged and I squeezed Suze’s hand, I would never let anyone come near her beautiful, golden hair.

“I think we’ve shaved enough heads for one day,” mom announces pulling the razor momentarily from Jere’s head, “Remember we have that dinner reservation in like two hours and I’d like to get changed from these sweats and t-shirt,” she goes back to Jere’s hair but before she’s able to make any progress she turns back around again, “Actually that’s a lie I could live in this outfit for the rest of my life I’m just not sure the people at the restaurant would appreciate it,” she says and every in the room laughs.

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

The hospital room I’d been in for the past week and a half has become a familiar sight, considering that I’ve only left it to go to other similar looking rooms in the hospital. I look at the clock, its five in the afternoon, I must have fallen asleep again. The November chill was visible outside by the frost on the other side of the glass.

On the other side of the room behind the wall I hear mom talking to someone, dad has gone to work for the day, they’ve started switching days, so I can only guess it’s Susannah or the boys.

“It’s been getting worse,” her voice quivers and a part of me wishes I could mute her out, still be asleep. I know the truth, a part of me has known it since I found out the cancer came back those couple of weeks before we departed for Cousins that summer, I wasn’t going to get better.

“There must be something they can do,” another voice said, this time my body hauled me up a little. Conrad. I’ve been letting him visit me, he wanted to be here all the time but I asked Susannah to pace him. He was here this morning. It was meant to be one visit a day.

I know that makes me sound horrible, and it makes my own heart shatter piece by piece but it wasn’t because I didn’t love him or because I didn’t want him to be here. I knew there would be a time where he would have to move on, life would continue and he has such a bright future ahead of him, so many people to meet and experiences to be had. In my head if the distancing started now maybe it would be easier for him, even still the image of him with any other girl made me feel sick.

“Is she awake?” Is what I hear when I break out of thought.

“She wasn’t when I left to get changed and grab some food, but it’s been a couple of hours so she should be waking up soon if you want to go in,” mom said and I silently battled with the thought of pretending to still be asleep.

Before I had the time to make the choice the door was opening and then Conrad’s and my eyes met and he was coming to sit next to my bed, quickly pulling his hand into mine.

He bought a bag of games with him, we started with some card games, then snake and ladders, then four in a row and so on for a couple of hours. I was glad he came for the second time today.

“What?” He asked, I was staring at him but it wasn’t like he wasn’t staring back

“No nothing, just wondering how I managed to score such a hot boyfriend,” I say fanning myself with one hand, “And he’s a teddybear and sweetheart.” I added and watched him cringe at my words.

“I’m the one who should be asking how I managed to get a girlfriend as stunning and kindhearted as you,” he said but I just rolled my eyes. As much as we did this over the top thing as a joke we both knew we meant the words.

We talked and talked that night, he held my hand through it all. I didn’t realize how late it was but mom had come to sit in the corner of the room, she’d been having trouble sleeping recently but she’d managed to snooze off.

“I love you so much Connie, I’m thankful for you everyday, never ever change,” I whispered holding back a sob, he was half asleep on his chair next to my bed too.

“I love you too,” he said leaning up to kiss me gently. Then Connie and I whispered to each other until I too was fading away into sleep.

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

Conrad’s POV:

I never thought I’d be stood here, looking at all these people and her picture in front of a casket. I took that photo the day I asked her to be my girlfriend on Cousins beach, all her teeth were shining pearly white and her hair was blowing in the wind framing her face like a masterpiece statue or a goddess.

“I think you all know that Y/n meant more to me than anything and anyone in my life, alongside my family. We grew up with each other. We were there for each other in the good and bad times even before we were together romantically. She is- was- one of the most integral pieces of the puzzle of our lives. I think I can speak on behalf of our families,” I pause, tears rolling down my face, and a sob building up in my throat, “I don’t know how I will be able to go day by day without seeing her, hearing her voice and her passion. She inspired me more than anyone and I will love her until the day I die and even further into whatever comes after death, I will do everything in my power to make sure all her goals for the many charities and organizations are complete, I will build a new charity in her name, I will make sure she gets the remembrance she deserves, because- because more than anyone I know she deserved all happiness and love. She will be missed more than I could ever have the words to express” I finished and turned to the casket, “Please don’t leave me, come back to me,” I whispered.

There was more I wanted to say, I could speak about her for days and nights on end, about how wonderful and bubbly and kind she was and yet I couldn’t. These faces in the crowd, some knew her better than others but no one like our little families, Belly, Jere and Steven were all sat next to each other crying. Mom was holding her arms around Y/n’s mom and dad as they stared at me, thankful for my words.

I broke into tears too, leaning onto the stand in front of me for support. Mom rushed towards me now, holding me close and helping me down to the seats. There I sat numb, tears flowing as the pastor finished the ceremony after which we all filed out and watched her get lowered into her grave. It read ‘Y/n L/n. Daughter, friend, love. An inspiration to all’

I can’t believe it’s been two weeks since I was holding her hand the night she passed. Two weeks since I’ve lost my everything.

Masterlist

#The Summer I Turned Pretty #the summer i turned pretty imagine #the summer i turned pretty x reader #TSITP #tsitp x you #tsitp fanfic #tsitp imagine #conrad fisher #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher x you #Jeremiah Fisher #jeremiah fisher x reader #jeremiah fisher x y/n #jeremiah fisher x you #tsitp jeremiah

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poorly-written-fiction · 3 months ago

Text

a little bit too much (freaky edition) - logan howlett x fem!reader

A/N: holy shit the support i got on my first posted fic is so nice thank you all so much. i made myself the promise that i’d post another fic. this is a similar fic to the one i posted yesterday, but this time it does end in smut. hence the name. also we’ve upgraded from me writing in my phone’s notes app, yay!

tags: SMUT (18+ MDNI), dubcon kinda? pre-established consent implied (drunk sex but only Y/N is drunk. repeated and enthusiastic consent is given. if this bothers you, please don’t read.), alcohol consumption (Y/N is 21+), fem!reader (no specific physical descriptions given), age gap (legal but let’s be real every relationship with logan is an age gap relationship), plot what plot/porn without plot, fingering, unprotected PinV + creampie (PLEASE BE RESPONSIBLE WHEN ENGAGING IN INTERCOURSE THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION), car sex, swearing, spelling and grammatical errors i’m sure because writing this faster and harder than i ever have before

words: 1478 (yippee!)

Logan couldn’t keep his eyes off of Y/N. In a bar full of neon lights and signs, nothing was shining brighter than she was. Maybe it was the alcohol, which had allowed Y/N to let go of any stress she had been holding onto. She drank enough to give her the confidence to loosen up and have fun - not that she wasn’t usually fun, but sometimes it’s hard to be yourself in a bar mostly inhabited by older men. Eyes would tend to watch Y/N and Logan when they would come through the door, very aware that he was older than she was, they just didn’t know how much older, and they didn’t need to. Y/N was old enough to order her own drinks, and that’s all that really mattered.

She really did look beautiful, especially with her hips swaying in time with the music playing in the bar. Her hips, which were wrapped in a denim mini skirt, it was driving Logan crazy. He loved every inch of her, every bit of her soul, every fiber of her being. She brought out the warmth in him, one would think after living for roughly 200 years that Logan’s heart would be practically made of stone. She made him smile, genuinely, but also made him wildly protective. During their games of pool, any time she’d bend over to make her shot, Logan would stand right behind her and glare around at anyone who would try to look at her. Then she’d make her shot, stand up straight, and accidentally bump up against his hips. He’d wrap his arms around waist and hold her close to him, leaning over her slightly to kiss her on the cheek. They’d do this all night, until the game was done, or until Y/N had drank a little too much, whichever came first.

Tonight, they had finished their game - they didn’t really keep track of who won, they were just having a good time together. Y/N was a little bit stumbly when she walked, holding onto Logan’s arm for stability. Being the gentleman that he was, he paid their tab, and wrapped his arm around her to hold her upright while they walked to the truck. Usually, he would carry her, but he didn’t want to risk giving anyone in that bar a look up Y/N’s skirt. Logan unlocked the truck, opened the passenger side door, and lifted Y/N into her seat before buckling her in and pressing a soft kiss to her temple. When he was sure she was safe and sound, he closed the door before jogging over to the driver’s side and hopping in himself.

After 15 minutes on the road, they were stopped at a red light that seemed to go on forever. Logan looked over at Y/N to make sure she was okay, and smiled when he saw her looking back at him. “Hey there, princess,” he gave her soft thigh a gentle squeeze. Y/N placed her hand over her boyfriend’s, slowly pulling it up her skirt, moaning quietly when his fingers brushed against her core. Logan’s eyes widened when he made the realization, “Where the hell are your panties, darlin’?”

Y/N giggled, her mind still very fuzzy from the alcohol, “Wasn’t wearing any… wondered how long it’d take you to find out.” She rocked her hips forward so her clit bumped perfectly against his fingers. She whined at the contact, repeating the movement again, before Logan retreated his hand back to her thigh.

“Babygirl, you’ve had a lot to drink tonight, are you okay to do this right now?” He glanced at the traffic light ahead of them - still red - before his eyes met hers again. Y/N’s eyes were locked onto her lover, giving him a firm nod. Y/N would be lying if she didn’t admit she liked drinking a little bit too much and then convincing Logan to fuck her. He muttered a quiet fuck, before he noticed the bright green light ahead of them. “Can you wait until we’re home, doll?”

Y/N shook her head, “I want you Logan… I need you.” Her hands began to guide Logan’s back up her skirt. He was used to driving with one hand on the wheel and one on Y/N’s thigh, but he knew that they’d have to pull over before they took things too far. Thankfully, there was a secluded road they’d be coming up on soon. Logan brushed his fingers through her folds, already so wet for him. He chuckled quietly, before taking his lover’s clit between his middle and index fingers, rubbing it in small circles. The sensation was like electricity running through Y/N’s body. “Fuck… that feels so good, Lo, please… keep going.”

After what seemed like an eternity of teasing, they finally got far enough onto the wooded road that cars passing wouldn’t be able to see them. Logan pulled over to the side of the road, retracting his hand again from Y/N’s heat, this time to put the truck in park before shutting off the ignition. Once the car’s lights were off, Logan made quick work to adjust the seat back to give Y/N space, before unbuckling both hers and his own seatbelts and pulling her over the center console so she was straddling his lap. He pulled her close into a very heated kiss with one hand, while his other squeezed her ass gently. “You’re so fucking perfect for me,” he mumbled into the kiss, earning him a needy moan from her mouth. Y/N’s hands clumsily attempted to undo Logan’s belt, between the alcohol running through her system and her head buzzing with desire, it took her a moment. Eventually, she got the belt undone, and she had an easier time with his jeans, wrapping her fingers under the waistband of his pants and his boxers and tugging down on them. Logan lifted his hips slightly, pulling the clothing down the rest of the way. His cock rested against her core for a moment before he slowly pushed into her, drawing a string of pleasured noises from his beautiful girlfriend.

“Fuck… you’re so tight, babygirl…”

“You’re so fucking big, Lo…”

Logan grabbed Y/N’s hips, bunching her miniskirt up in the process. He rocked her back and forth on his cock, pulling more moans and gasps from her lips. He loved the way she sounded. Y/N began to fuck herself onto his cock in rhythm with him, holding onto his shoulders for support. Logan took the opportunity to gently press his thumb against her clit, drawing gentle circles around the small muscle. Y/N’s walls tightened at the sensation, earning a low moan out of Logan’s mouth. His pace sped up just slightly, which was just enough for Y/N to start coming undone in his hands.

“Please… just like that, Lo, please don’t stop..!”

“That’s it… good girl, I wanna make you cum.”

“I’m so close, please Logan..!”

He loved the way she said his name, so much desperation coming from her sweet lips. He moved his free hand from her hip to the back of her neck, pulling her into a needy kiss. He kept his pace, but his hips began to move with a harder intensity, fucking Y/N like his life depended on it. She moaned into his mouth, before breaking away, nearly screaming his name.

“Fuck, Logan… Logan, I’m cumming!”

“That’s it, cum for me, babygirl, you’re doing so good…”

Y/N’s nails dug into Logan’s shoulders as she began to ride out her orgasm, her insides contracting around his cock, and her legs squeezing around his hips. Logan’s own orgasm followed quickly, spilling warm cum inside of Y/N, who was still wrapped tightly around him. They took a few moments to enjoy the afterglow, sharing a few kisses and pressing their foreheads against each other’s, taking their time to catch their breath. Y/N reached over to the window on the driver’s side door, drawing a small heart in the fogged-up glass. Logan watched her, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

After a moment, he slowly pulled out, then grabbed one of his flannels that he had left in the backseat of his truck and cleaned off Y/N’s thighs. Usually, he’d pull her panties back onto her after he filled her up, but she had decided not to wear any. He folded the flannel a few times, and placed it on the passenger seat - he was going to need to wash it anyways since he cleaned her up with it. He lifted her off of his lap, and got her settled back in the passenger seat, buckling her seatbelt again, and giving her a kiss.

“I love you, princess.”

“I love you too, Lo.”

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thank you for reading! if this fic seems rushed it's because it is, i need sleep but i also wanted to get this done. i hope you enjoyed!

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ellieslittleburrow · 4 months ago

Text

Summary : John Winchester, your father, is protective of you

Warnings : swearing and cute John

A/N : should we write more John Winchester?

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John Winchester, a man of many flaws. Sammy can attest to that, he suffered the most from John's decisions. Dean would stand against that, he's been John's boy since the day he was born. Dad this, dad that; That doesn't mean it isn't complicated, though.

You on the other hand.....umm....not suuuure where you stand really, where do you stand?

Everything felt different for you with John. Everything. His love for you was established since the beginning. He got a spark in his eyes whenever you were around that neither of his two boys ever got the chance to see, even Dean.

You were his baby girl.

There were the times where he stood up for you. The bullies??? Never stood a chance. There was that one time in particular when you got h-

"Hey! What did i tell you about slamming doors?" A scolding growl sounded, one that would usually....send shivers down your spine. This time it left you unbothered, or maybe fueled your anger even more.

In an attempt to not cry in front of the Great Winchester, you hurried to the bed assigned to you and threw yourself into a sleeping position, your back facing him.

"HEY" his growl grew angrier and you just hugged yourself. You didn't need him exploding your eardrums on top of everything else that had happened that day. His steps closed in on you and soon enough, your waist was gently being pulled back- you were facing him.

As his eyes navigated around your face, his features simultaniously softened. The creases shaped by the frown on your eyebrows, the sucked in lower lip, the damp eyelashes, all signs of-

"You were crying?" A stupid question that John needed no answer to. He somehow knew why, too. But he asked anyway. "Was it the kids at school?"

With that-you force yourself back on your side. "I told you not to force me into a new school."

Your mumble is muffled but John already knew what you were going to say-you've had this conversation many a times before.

"Come on" Your father tapped your butt before heading towards the door. And your curiosity itched your brain and you turned around, sitting up.

"Where are you going?" You asked and he glanced at you over his own shoulder, a mischivious smile embellishing his face.

"Just get your ass up."

Over in the car, John turned to you. "Do you know where this kid lives?"

You took your damn time to respond, both of you will get into trouble buuuuuuut.... A smirk ghosted your lips. "Yeaaaah?"

"Good, that saves us a lot of time."

You nervously chuckled. "A lot of time for what, dad?" The Impala roared as silence followed your question. You sort of understood. And as you directed him towards the bully's house, your stomach tightened in a mixture of excitement and anxiety.

"Right there, the Cayenne, his father's." You pointed at the car and your dad shamelessly parked his own only a few couples of meters away.

Another nervous chuckle left your lips as your head popped forward. Your eyes followed your dad as he jumped out of the car and headed for the trunk. The hood popped up for a minute and then your dad reappeared with what seemed to be a....BAT?

You jumped out of the car and distress shot through your veins. "Dad" You called for him but he'd already made up his mind and as you stressfullly walked behind him, he casually headed for the car, the bat vibrating in his hands. "Dad, you're gonna get us into trouble." You whispered as if whispering would make the crime your father is about to commit any less obvious.

But John totally ignored you and he swung the bat before sending it into the Cayenne's back window-the glass instantly chattered. You flinched and before you were even able to process the first hit, a second one echoed through the quiet neighborhood.

You flinched again. "Dad, st-"

"I'm only doing this for you, honey." John rounded the car and stopped at the front of the car. "If it were up to me, i'd slice the boy AND his father." The third swing hit harder, more violent. And the alarm continues blaring. "All he had to do was teach his son some manners. But since he can't do that, i'll teach 'em both a good lesson."

There's that story, and there's another one. Where you're being you, and for you, emotions have a like, a giant gravitational pull on your life-just like this time.

You and dad have been on the road for almost two days-stupid shapeshifters and it's that week of the month that's the most chaoti-- and this stupid fucking booth is weird and squishy and-

Your cheeks grew hot and wetness suddenly streamed down your face. When John noticed, he blew out a long sigh. He shut his eyes slowly, bringing his index and thumb to the opposite sides of his face, rubbing roughly.

Not fucking cool, dad. This shit's tiring enough. 'You know what-" You stop midsentence, rushing off to the bathroom but a sudden strain pulled you back.

"No-no, i'm sorry, honey, i'm sor-"

"I'm already tired enough." Your voice came out full and rough, heavy with the build up of saliva in your throat. "don't need you making fun of m-" You were about to yank your wrist away when he held it tighter.

"Come on that's not what's happening here." John swiftly got up and faced you. "I just-i'm tired too, kid. I-" He sighed again, and you wiped away your tears.

"Coooome here." Too slow but too sweet-and not a question either, your dad reached for the back of your head and brought it to his chest. He planted a kiss over your hair and gently swayed both of your bodies left and right. "Dad's here." His tone might've been gentle, but it still bore a hint of annoyance.

He doesn't mean-he "You don't mean that-you're just saying it because i'm-"

"Noo i do mean it, baby, i do-" he sighed once more. "I'm just tired. That's why i sound like this." He planted a second kiss on your forehead before boaring into your eyes. You dropped your gaze down in the process, too-

"I'm sorry." His thick eyebrows softened back to their normal position. And his bunny teeth appeared. Amused, he hesitated to speak for a few seconds. "You know you're too old for this right?"

You pinched his waist, causing him to jerk back, choking on a chuckle.

You sniffed, throwing embarassed glances his way. "Shut up."

"I'm sorry, honey."

What the hell is wrong with me? Is the first thought that comes to mind. There sure are many more stories to tell about the great John Winchester. But to sum it all up, you are indeed on his fucking side.

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@marvelfanfn2187a113

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WOO WOO, i hope yall made it to the end. See ya next time 🖤🖤🖤🥀🥀🥀

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winterrrnight · 7 months ago

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babe I just had the best idea for a rafe concept it pains me

Okay so imagine like reader is at work (somewhere idk where) and she just gets so overwhelmed but her and rafes relationship is still new so she doesn't call him because she doesn't wanna bother him....😭

I'm probably not the first person to think of this but it ON MY MINDDDD

literally dropped everything to write this!!!! this reader is way too me coded and I cannot :’) thank you so so much for the req vee 🥹💗 you asked for a concept… I wrote a fic…. :D I hope you like this vee <3

down for you

PAIRING: soft!rafe cameron x gn!reader

SUMMARY: rafe wants you to be able to rely on him for anything and everything.

WARNINGS: the reader is a preschool teacher and quite self dependent; lots of fluff; cute nicknames; lovesick rafe (my fav fr); minimal swearing

EDITH SPEAKS: this request speaks volumes to me 🥹 this is way too me coded, and I just had to write it, I hope you all like this! the ending is maybe a bit abrupt tho :( please like and reblog if you liked reading <3 feedback is always appreciated 🍹

navigation || join my taglist || requests

I should leave, I haven't yet, but when you smile, I just forget

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

You can swear this day can't get any worse. You’ve been on your feet basically the entire day, always rushing from your students here to there. You love the little kiddos with your entire heart, but today, for some reason, they are being an extra pain in the ass. They aren’t as cooperative as you’d prefer; you don’t know what’s gotten into them, they are like little energy packets constantly running around.

Due to some teacher duties you aren’t even able to sit down for your lunch break, taking away the only 15 minutes you have to yourself. And it just gets progressively worse when you finally leave the school to go back to your place and your car has a slashed tire, and today had to be the day when you don’t have a spare tire in your trunk.

It’s been over 6 hours since you left your house this morning, and it’s just Tuesday, but it’s feeling like the longest, most excruciating week ever. You’re now leaning against your car door, letting out a deep exhale as you lean your head back, feeling a headache creep into your brain and pulse harshly. You’re tired, hungry, absolutely exhausted… and all you want are the warm hugs of your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend.

Rafe is quite a new addition in your life, both of you being together for a mere month. He’s been so loving to you, always protective and just genuinely taking great care of you.

You pull out your phone and find his contact, but before you can dial him, your thumb hovers over his name in sudden realization – he’s always at work at this time.

You begin to contemplate your initial decision of asking him to come here to help you out, and then ultimately decide against it, realizing he’s probably very busy at work, and would only be heavily distracted if you call him.

So, just like how you always do it, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

It’s nearing 6 pm when you finally get to reach your place. You had to make calls to get yourself a mechanic to get your car fixed, who took his sweet sweet time to come to you. You’re now completely exhausted, wanting nothing more than just to plop on your bed and sleep till your heart desires. You can hear your stomach grumble since you never had the chance to eat the lunch you missed out on, but you make it a problem for later, deciding to just take a nap first.

As you drive into your driveway, you recognise Rafe’s black Range Rover already parked, with him standing next to it, leaning back against the hood of his car as he’s looking intently at his phone. As he catches the sound of your car driving, he instantly looks up, watching your car enter the driveway.

Before you can properly park and get out, Rafe rushes to you, opening the door for you.

“Oh my god where have you been?” He asks you, his voice laced with concern. “I tried calling you and texting you, you always come back home by late afternoon,”

You step out of the car and Rafe shuts the door, a hand quickly landing at the small of your back as you both walk to the porch of your house. He can see you’re really tired; droopy eyes, heavy steps, deep sighs; he knows something happened.

“Yeah my phone died,” you mutter as you unlock the main door of your house, both of you stepping inside. “I just… today was kind of a heavy day, nothing much honestly,” you shrug as you toss your keys in the dish and remove your coat and shoes.

“What happened?” Rafe asks, still really concerned for you as he watches you take off your cost and hang it on the coat rack. As you’re done, you face him with a small smile on your face.

“Nothing much, really,” you say softly, gently cupping his cheek with a hand and tenderly caressing his skin. “Don’t worry, yeah?” You mumble, taking your hand off his cheek as you make your way to the kitchen.

Rafe stays on your heels, following you and monitoring every single move of yours – your padding till the fridge, opening it, getting a bottle of water, unscrewing it and drinking from it.

“You look so exhausted, I can see it in your eyes,” he comments. “Your hair is all messy, your clothes are dirty; it’s clearly not nothing. Come on, tell me, what happened,”

His voice is stern, but not in an angry way; but in an apprehensive way. He moves his hand to your face, gently brushing your hair as he fixes some of the unruly strands.

As you finish drinking your water; drinking almost all of it in one go, you keep your bottle aside and let out a sigh, turning to look at him. “It was just one of those… heavy days, but it’s over now yeah? I’m now home,” you say softly.

“But just tell me what happened,” Rafe’s voice now drops to a whisper as he moves closer to you, continuing to weave his fingers through your hair.

You close your eyes for a moment, delving into the relaxing feeling of Rafe’s fingers softly combing through your hair, but also realizing he’s going to keep pressing for you to tell him what happened.

“The kids were a bit uncooperative today,” you say with a soft chuckle. “And then we have this event coming up at school, so I was busy for my entire lunch break preparing for it. And then my car had a flat tire and I didn’t have a spare so I had to get a mechanic, which took most of the time. But besides that, nothing much happened,” you say with a small shrug.

“Besides all that?” Rafe mutters incredulously. “That’s already a lot, baby, why didn’t you call me when you found out about your flat tire? I would’ve come; or sent someone to get you, we would’ve had lunch in my office, and I would have had someone take care of the tire and bring your car back too.” There’s a small frown on his face and he now holds your face in both his hands, gently skimming your cheeks with his thumbs.

You look up in his soft, baby blue eyes. “I did think of calling you but-”

“But?”

“But I thought…” you take a deep breath, your eye contact with him faltering. “you’ll be busy, and I didn’t want to be a burden to you, really, I was able to get it all fixed just fine,”

You can hear Rafe tsk; his tongue clicking against his teeth as he softly shakes his head. “I’m never busy for you okay? My work does not ever get more importance than you, okay? It never does, and it never will, especially when you’re in trouble and need help,”

He gently grips your chin and tips your head back just a bit, making you look at him. His eyes are softened, the blue even more warmer than usual.

“I know you prefer to do things on your own,” he whispers, “but you have to realise that you really don’t need to do each thing on your own, especially now that I’m around. I won’t mind, really, and besides, I would love to show everyone off at work that I am the boyfriend of the most beautiful person on this damn planet yeah?”

You can’t help but chuckle softly at his words as you keep looking in his eyes.

“So, promise me, next time you need any sorts of help, want me to do something for you, or just want me to be there, you don’t think twice about calling me up okay?” He says softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

He can see the reluctancy in your eyes, but you eventually give in and nod.

“Okay, promise,” you murmur, smiling as you wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. He gladly hugs you back, snuggling his face in your neck as he gently rubs your back.

“So…” you speak up, and he hums back in response, both of you still hugging.

“I’ll take up on that offer right now. I’ll go and shower, and you make something for me to eat yeah?”

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @lunalitva @sadfury @shores-kayla @jamesbuckybarneswify @xxxlaura @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @callsignwidow @starkowswife @drewstarkeyswifehoe @jjchaer @f4ll-for-you @wearemadeofstardust0 @drewsmusee @rafegirly @addriaenne @leighbronk @rafesdrew @bejeweledreverie @raf3sgff @aerangi @drewstarkey1bae @moneymaybank @spideysimpossiblegirl @the-tortured-poets-depxrtment @rafesgiirl @theoraekenslover @fals3-g0d @personalfavsthatarerandom @b1mb0slvt

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moonlinos · 9 months ago

Text

Invisible string (pt. III)

♡ Pairing: Lee Minho × fem!reader

♡ Synopsis: After so many years of being closed off from the idea of love, you finally allow yourself to feel it freely with Minho.

♡ Genre: A ‘lite version’ of a soulmate AU, fluff, smut

♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), oral sex (female receiving), protected sex, swearing

♡ Word count: 16.4k

♡ A/N: A part of this chapter was almost shamelessly inspired by the song that inspired the plot in the first place, Invisible String by Taylor Swift. Also really inspired by my favorite Minho vlog, Lee Know Log 4 🩷

To those who have asked to be tagged in this story: would any of you be interested in being tagged in any new work I post later? Let me know! And thank you for reading and giving me such a great experience posting my writing here for the first time 🩷

← part II ♡ ⟳ part I

You spend the entire flight home processing everything that had happened during the trip; from Minho’s words, to your kisses and touches, to you ultimately acknowledging your own romantic feelings for him. Although it all felt sudden, it had been a long time coming.

As his car stops at the front of your house, Minho steps out and walks with you, your backpack in hand.

“I know you’re scared. I understand that even more now that I know about your past relationships,” he speaks softly as the two of you stop at the front door, “And I want you to know that I’m gonna be patient.”

You nod slowly, although the desire to answer him is still so prevalent in your mind, the words lodged in your throat and yearning to spill out. But you’ve made the mistake of jumping into relationships far too often, always driven by your emotions, and every time, the outcome has been disastrous. You don’t want that to happen with Minho.

So, you settle on a question that has been eating away at you.

“Why do you like me, Minho?”

His face twists into a deep frown before ultimately softening. Carefully placing your backpack on the step leading to the front door, he sighs.

“You shouldn’t have to ask me that,” he assures you, his rough hands touching your shoulders before moving down your arms to entwine with your own. “You don’t even realize how fucking amazing you are, do you? I’d move mountains, fight anyone and do anything if it meant I’d have the privilege to see you smile.”

And, just like that, you feel your lips stretch out into a small smile at his words. He grins at you.

“Just like that. I’d do anything to see that,” he says. “And you take care of your friends simply because you love them, never asking for anything in return. You collect plushies like me, you appreciate the criminally underrated flavor of lemon cake, and you worked at the same convenience store as me, and spilled coffee all over my notebook on the day we met. That’s why I like you; because you’re you.”

Tears threaten to well up in your eyes, so you quickly avert your gaze, focusing on your shoes. With a nod, you wrap your arms around Minho, taking in his scent and reveling in the comforting warmth of his body. Little did he know, you were just as willing to do whatever it took to keep him near you. He plants a chaste kiss on your forehead as you break away from his embrace.

“I’ll call you later, okay? Thank you for the trip.”

As soon as you step inside your house, Eunha is quick to come running towards you, her hands dirty with flour as she abandons her unbaked cookies on the counter and pulls you into a hug.

“I missed you so much,” she whines, “How will I survive living without you next year?”

You chuckle, watching as her lips turn into a pout.

“I’m sure we’ll suffer equally, if that makes you feel better.”

She fakes a sob, turning on her heels and heading toward the kitchen.

“Oh, Hyunjin is in a crisis, apparently,” she tells you, wiping her hands on her apron. “He called me three times just today to ask if you were back already.”

You let out a sigh. Hyunjin was more often than not either glum or vexed due to his trials and mishaps in finding love. He once joked that you two would end up having to marry each other with how things were going. You dreaded his reaction to the news of Minho soon entering your life in a new way.

“The hotel’s Wi-Fi was a joke, but I honestly didn’t even think to check my phone,” you tell Eunha, who giggles as she cuts her cookies into heart shapes. “What? Why are you giggling like that?” You ask her with a grin, approaching the counter.

She shrugs. “Nothing. I didn’t even think to check my phone,” she playfully mimics your voice, looking up at you, “I’m guessing you had fun, then?”

“I did,” you beam, “It was everything I thought it would be and even more.”

She raises an eyebrow at you. “Even more?”

“Even more,” you reiterate. “I had so much fun with Minho. I forgot how good it feels to just let go and allow myself to feel what I want to feel.”

Eunha’s lips curl into a small smile. She hums, lowering her head in a feeble attempt at pretending to focus on the cookies in front of her. “And what did you want to feel this weekend?”

“Like maybe I can finally fall in love again.”

Your friend lifts her head, her eyes wide. “Love?” she exclaims, “You, the girl who has spent every day since I met you talking about how love isn’t important, is wanting to fall in love?”

You chuckle at her reaction, shrugging dismissively. “In my defense, I had my reasons. Plus, some things made me change my mind.”

“More like someone,” Eunha teases, and you roll your eyes at her, but a smile spreads on your lips unwittingly. “I’m happy for you,” she beams, “and I think you should definitely fall in love again — not maybe.”

You sprint across the small kitchen space, circling around the counter to wrap your arms around Eunha and squeezing her as she lightly pushes you away, warning you about flour getting all over your clothes, but you don’t mind.

Because you love her, as you’ve learned this past weekend, and you don’t mind the mess when it comes to someone you love.

It’s only as you enter your room that you check your phone, which is filled with notifications from Hyunjin, much like Eunha had said. After ten missed calls, it seems he resorted to simply texting you.

Hyune: hey I know you’re in japan but can you answer the phone? Hyune: I promise I’ll be quick. just wanna talk to you Hyune: hear your voice idk I feel really alone rn and really bad idk lol Hyune: mingyu has his girlfriend over. can you believe they’re still together? Hyune: can you believe he has a girlfriend and I can’t even find someone to give me the time of day lol Hyune: can you believe every date I go to ends with me crying lol Hyune: sorry I’m being annoying and the messages aren’t even being delivered, you’re clearly having fun sorry Hyune: sorry Hyune: guess that’s why nobody can endure me for more than two dates Hyune: have fun 🤍 I love you

You feel your heart ache as you read his messages, answering with an apology. But before you can hit send on your second message, Hyunjin has already replied.

Hyune: it’s okay. I’m sorry I even sent those in the first place

Me: Stop apologizing Me: You know I love you and I’ll always be here for you Me: Where are you?

Hyune: at my dorm Hyune: staring at the ceiling

Me: I’m coming over

True to his words, Hyunjin is lying on the floor of his dorm’s cramped living room once you open the door. There’s a small canvas propped up against the wall, a myriad of shades of blue forming the shape of a face. Your best friend’s talent never ceases to amaze you, and you have to fight the urge to stand still by the front door for a few seconds simply admiring his new painting.

“Look at this sulking Pisces,” you click your tongue as you approach Hyunjin, who only opens one eye to shoot you a glance.

“I’m in a fragile state and this is how you greet me,” he all but pouts before sitting up as you sit cross-legged beside him on the floor. “How was the trip?”

You shrug. “It was fun. We only had one day to explore the city, so we didn’t do much,” you say simply, tapping your fingers on your thigh.

You don’t want to sit and talk about how much fun you had during a trip when Hyunjin’s puffy, bloodshot eyes are staring directly at you. He was sad, and his sadness was palpable throughout the entire living room — his bitten lips, his painting, his hands covered in dried-up blue paint; everything was dripping in sadness. This was a constant with Hyunjin, but lately it had become even worse. He has an overwhelming desire to love and be loved, but his every attempt at fulfilling this desire is futile for reasons you cannot wrap your head around.

“I like the new painting,” you smile, focusing on the saddened blue face. Hyunjin scoffs beside you.

“It’s fucking terrible,” His hand shoves the canvas face down on the floor. You bite your lip. “Can’t even paint shit I like anymore. Every time I try, it always turns out muddy and sad.”

“What happened?”

He lets out a bitter chuckle. “Well I’m pathetic, so it’s still the same old reason. I had a date with this girl on Saturday, but she canceled at the last minute. Texted me something about me being too clingy after she agreed to go out with me, about how she knows she would feel suffocated if we dated.”

You furrow your brows together, anger bubbling up inside your chest. “What the fuck?”

“Oh, but don’t worry!” Hyunjin gave you a forced smile. “She made sure to remind me that it was her, not me, and that lots of women out there like guys like me. Whatever the fuck that means.”

Hyunjin shakes his head, turning his attention toward his hands before scratching some of the dried paint off. You sigh.

“Hyunjin, she isn’t wrong about that. You know that, right? You’re not the one at fault.”

He scoffs. “Sure seems like it when every date I’ve gone to since starting university has ended up with me being rejected for the same fucking reasons. It’s always me. Too clingy, too sentimental, too emotional,” his voice is almost a whisper as he speaks. He turns to face you again. “Remember how I would stop sleeping with you whenever I liked someone? Wanna know why I stopped doing that? ‘Cause I know it’s not gonna go anywhere anyway, so what’s the point? It never goes anywhere, and then I’m left alone again. Maybe I should just accept it, y’know? Some people are just meant to be alone, and clearly I’m one of them.”

Your anger has now morphed into sadness. You hate the way Hyunjin talks about himself, hate it even more how it seems nobody can appreciate the amazing person he is. Being caring and sentimental is not a flaw, and you pray that he never allows other people’s opinions to sway him into thinking that way. You pray he finds someone who can appreciate these qualities in him the same way you do.

“You’re not alone, Hyune,” you assure him, taking one of his hands in yours. “You’re surrounded by friends who love you so much, and while I know that’s not the type of love you yearn for, it’s still love.”

Hyunjin smiles softly at you before pulling you closer and pressing his lips to yours. It’s sudden but not entirely unexpected; the way you and Hyunjin dealt with shitty things in life and unpleasant feelings together had always been through sex, and you knew it always made him feel at least a little better afterward. And so you let him, returning the kiss even as part of you felt wrong doing it when your entire being was consumed with thoughts of only Minho.

As soon as he kisses you, he swiftly pushes you down onto the hardwood floor and hovers over you. Hyunjin’s fingers undo the buttons of your cardigan before slipping under your shirt, caressing your skin as his lips trail kisses down your neck. Soon enough, his body is pressed up against your spread thighs, and you know where this is going — but as much as you want to make your best friend feel better, you cannot bring yourself to do it.

“Hyune,” you softly call out, and he hums against your throat. “We can’t do this.”

He chuckles, squeezing your waist. “Mingyu always comes home late when he goes out with his girlfriend. Don’t worry.”

“It’s not that, Hyunjin. I just—”

“Do you not wanna fuck on the floor?” He asks, coming up to look at you. He cocks his head to the side. “We can just do it on the couch then, I really don’t wanna have sex with all those pictures of Mingyu and his friends staring at us in our room.”

“Hyunjin, no—”

“It’s not like we never did it on a couch before, stop being dramatic—”

“I’m in love with Minho.”

It comes out before you can fully comprehend what you’re saying, the word love slipping past your lips effortlessly. Hyunjin stills on top of you, his body rigid and tense.

“Oh,” is all he offers you. You nod slowly, fingers picking at a drop of paint that stained the collar of his shirt.

You whisper, “I really am just as surprised as you are, believe me.”

Hyunjin shrugs. “I’m not surprised. I just— now you’re leaving me, too.”

You shake your head. It’s ludicrous to you that Hyunjin could imagine that you would ever even entertain the thought of leaving him. Running a hand through his messy hair, you pull him in and press a kiss to his nose. Hyunjin hides his face in the crook of your neck with a groan.

“Sorry, that was pathetic. I shouldn’t have said that,” he apologizes. “You know I don’t mean it like that. I just love you so much. I thought we would…”

You furrow your brows as he trails off his words. You thread your fingers through his long hair. “We would…?”

“End up together somehow,” he speaks slowly, his voice muffled, and your heart drops.

Hyunjin harboring these feelings about you was something you would never have imagined. You were certain he was content being your friend and having sex with you only until he found the right person. He went on several dates, after all. Your heart feels like it’s been shattered into a million tiny pieces upon learning about his hidden desire for the future he used to so often joke about: you two ending up together simply because you were each other’s only choices.

“Hyunjin,” you start carefully, “I love you, too. So much. You’re my best friend, and that’s never going to change. We don’t have to be together romantically for us to be in love, y’know? I realized that just recently.”

You feel him nod his head, his hand finding yours and intertwining your fingers.

“I’m just sad I won’t have you anymore. I’m gonna miss us so much,” he places a small kiss on your collarbone. “Whenever I felt like I was in a dark pit with no way out, every single time you were there to bring me out of it and make me feel okay again. I love you so much for that.”

And you can only softly smile at his words before your heart shatters all over again as you hear him quietly begin to sob in your skin.

“Hyunjin,” you call out, although you know he won’t reply. “You’re the most beautiful soul I’ve ever met. My love for you goes beyond us having sex — that wasn’t even important to me in our relationship. It was just something good on top of something already amazing.” With a slow nod, he lifts his head and gazes at you with red, teary eyes, causing your heart to ache even more. “I’ll never leave you. Ever. I’ll still answer your four hundred three a.m. texts, still let you hide away in my house, still happily listen to you complain about your days, and still hold you when you cry.”

Hyunjin pouts like a child, and your heart swells with fondness.

“Really?” He asks, and you chuckle with a nod.

“Really,” you assure him. “Me being with someone will never change our friendship, or my love for you. I mean, we won’t have sex anymore, of course, but I’ll still talk shit about your roommate with you so I’m sure you’ll forgive me.”

Hyunjin’s tearful expression vanishes, replaced by a small teasing grin. “I am gonna have to jerk off significantly more, so I don’t know about forgiveness,” he jokes.

You push him off you with a chuckle, sitting up as he tries to regain his balance.

“When did this whole thing with Minho even happen?” Hyunjin asks, setting his painting back against the wall. You shrug, buttoning up your cardigan. He hums. “So, are you already together?”

“Not yet,” you say, “but I’m gonna answer him after our class this week. If he fucking lets me, that is. He says he wants to be patient, but I don’t want to be patient. The only thing I wanna be is with him.”

Hyunjin’s whole body contorts as he groans. “Ew, what the fuck? When did you become such a sap?”

As you shove him back once more, you both burst into laughter while Hyunjin stumbles back and spills a mug filled with dirty paint water all over his floor.

The rest of the day goes by with you and Hyunjin painting together, a much broader array of colors and a much happier end result on the canvas: beautiful flowers painted by him standing alongside clumsily drawn hearts, stars, and other doodles painted by you. After signing your name above his elegant signature, you inform him the painting is leaving with you — it’s hanging up on your wall as soon as you arrive home.

Hyunjin is your best friend; it’s been this way for the last two years, and it’s indisputable to you that this fact will remain no matter what happens. As you watch him hunched over your painting, insisting that his flowers could be more detailed — even after you assured him a thousand times that they were perfect — you curse yourself for not realizing how beautiful this love between you two is. You hope he cherishes this love as well, in spite of his desire for the two of you to be together in the future. You know deep down this idea stemmed from his fear of solitude.

You’re not worried about him at all, though. He’s a precious soul, and anyone who fails to recognize that doesn’t deserve him. He’s simply getting rid of the wrong people in order to find the right person, someone who sees him as you do.

The love you feel for Hyunjin is unchanging, and if you had any say in it, it would be everlasting.

Your next Japanese class with Minho comes too soon, and you find yourself unprepared. Every trace of resolve you had after returning from your trip dissipated bit by bit every time you saw or talked to him. As soon as you saw his figure step into the coffee shop on Monday to pick up his usual order, you realized that every single scenario your mind had conjured up fell flat. Minho was beautiful, amazing, breathtaking — he deserved something grand and earth-shattering, not a simple answer from a girl who wasn’t even half as good as he was.

It certainly did not help that he, always true to his words, respected your time. Not once during his coffee trips or your never-ending talks through the phone did he mention the topic. And it was slowly but surely driving you insane.

You bite your lips so much on your way to university you’re sure your lipstick is gone by the time you enter the building, and you’re surprised your poor bag isn’t riddled with holes in the cloth from your insistent picking. You shouldn’t feel this nervous — Minho is the one waiting for an answer, after all. For all he knows, you could be simply building up the courage to let him down gently. But you are nervous. You’re terrified he will listen to your clumsy words and decide he deserves someone better. Or, worse yet, will only realize how undeserving of his love you are once you’re in a relationship.

And you don’t think you can face another heartbreak where you’re left to mend your gashes all alone.

You enter the building with shaky hands, fiddling with the strap of your bag and walking toward your classroom on autopilot as your mind is too busy running over all the ways in which this could go wrong.

All faded, however, once you saw Minho waiting for you in front of your classroom. His glasses slid down the bridge of his nose as he looked down at his phone, his body wrapped in a cozy-looking black sweater and sweatpants, a keychain of a cat plushie hanging from his backpack matching his phone case. You stop a few feet away from him. He deserves the world, and that terrifies you. Still, his presence alone melts away every ugly word of doubt and every piece of worry inside your body until the only thing you can feel is the swirling of that familiar pinwheel spinning inside your chest.

You greet him with a long hug, hoping he can’t feel your heart beating through your own sweater.

After class, he walks you to work, enthusiastically telling you about the progress he, Chan and Seungmin have made on their game. You nod and hum along to his words, but you can’t, for the life of you, focus on a word he’s saying. All you want to do is tell him you like him — god, you like him so much — but every time you’re close to doing it, the ugly words return and scream that he deserves more than an underwhelming confession on a gloomy, empty street.

You stop walking as you two reach the bench located just far away enough from the hustle and bustle of students on campus, the one where no one bothered you when you sat here by yourself for three years, the one that had oddly become your favorite bench among all the other identical ones scattered throughout your university.

Because it was here that you and Minho had your first real conversation, it was here where you two laughed and gasped at all the little coincidences between your lives, and it was here where you began to build a friendship with this wonderful guy who would unknowingly change you for the better.

It was the perfect place, and you berated yourself for not realizing that sooner.

Minho’s voice calling out your name pulls you away from your thoughts, his hand wrapping around yours and pulling you gently toward his body. You hum before colliding against his chest as he chuckles.

“You just stopped walking,” he says, a lilt of confusion in his voice. “I know you hate work, but I didn’t think it was this serious.”

And when you properly turn to look at him, Minho is smiling so beautifully under the somber sky of winter, as if he is the embodiment of sunshine — always glistening and radiating such a comforting warmth no matter how glum the world around him is. And, at the sight of him, you just can’t stop your words. Never mind how gloomy this campus seems or how lackluster your words are — Minho’s presence alone makes everything become golden.

“I like you because you’re you,” you mirror his words at you, “Because you laughed in my face for spilling coffee all over your notebook when I didn’t even know you, because you love coffee just as much as I hate it, and because you believe in silly myths about riding paddle boats together,” You blurt out, words completely unbidden by your brain. Minho’s eyes widened for a beat before slowly turning into crescent moons as a smile spread across his lips. You take a deep breath before continuing, the words flowing out of you so quickly you’re worried he won’t be able to understand you, “And you opened my eyes to the love I feel for my friends, which I was so fucking stupid and blinded to. But, most importantly, you taught me that love isn’t bad. It can never be bad because you’re love, Minho. You’re full of love, and there’s not an ounce of anything bad in you. And you make me feel deserving of this love, even though I still don’t understand how I can be deserving of something so beautiful.”

Minho’s arms are pulling you into an embrace before you can process everything you said, and by the time you seem to come to your senses, you realize tears have welled up in your eyes. He holds you close to him silently for a while, his left hand delicately massaging your scalp as you clutch onto the fabric of his sweater as if he might be taken away from you if you let go.

“I like you, too,” he whispers against your hair, and you feel your lips contort into a pout.

“You already told me that,” you grumble. “I just word-vomited my feelings to you and this is all you have to say?”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your head. “What else is there to say? I like you so much I don’t think I can put it into words. I might just say something stupid if I talk about it too much.”

You furrow your brows, pulling away from his embrace to face him. “Something stupid like what?”

“Like saying I love you.”

Your lips part, but no words come out. Yet again, Minho has rendered you speechless. He shakes his head dismissively, a smile still etched onto his lips.

“No need to say anything. I told you it was stupid,” his eyes drift over to the bench beside you two, and his smile grows. “Guess this has to become my favorite bench too.”

You let out a laugh, but it’s cut short by your tears spilling out again. Minho quickly turns to look at you again, his expression shifting into a mixture of happiness and worry for you as he wipes your tears away with his thumbs.

And as the sun begins to set, the street lights flicker on, casting a warm, yellow glow over everything around you. You cup Minho’s face and press a chaste kiss to his lips, then to his nose, before wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into an embrace once again.

“I don’t think I’m ready to love you yet. I’m sorry,” you apologize, both to him and yourself.

Minho simply hums, kissing your cheek. “I told you I’m patient, because love is patient. I would wait an eternity for the privilege of hearing you say you love me.”

You and Minho have officially been together for almost two months by the time winter break arrives. You’ve done everything couples do, except for two things: say I love you and go all the way. You’ve done every other possible thing — well, Minho has done every other possible thing to you, with you discovering that Minho particularly loves eating you out, often laying on your lap on your couch after work and rubbing his head against your thighs like a cat, humming and sighing until he has your attention before all but begging you to let him go down on you. Whenever you offer to do the same to him, in any way, he immediately turns the offer down, saying he’s satisfied just pleasuring you. It always leaves you with a million questions, as you notice him have to adjust himself in his pants or coincidently go to the bathroom, but you don’t question it.

The two of you also found ways to get around the whole L-word situation. I missed you becoming your go-to phrase for when you want to scream out that you love him, but are still unable to, while he usually just makes you swallow both your words and his own that are lingering inside your mouth with a kiss.

You had fallen into a routine quickly, with you visiting Minho most evenings after your shift to just lay on Chan’s stiff leather couch and watch him work. You two always hang out with his co-workers slash friends for a while before leaving for the night — Seungmin becoming like the pestering but loveable little brother you never had — and you head to your house in Minho’s car before you sneak him into your home so Mrs. Choi remains none the wiser.

Her ‘no boyfriends spending over two days at the house’ rule can’t possibly apply if she doesn’t even know Minho is there in the first place.

And so, he’s been basically living alongside you and your housemates. This outcome was almost inevitable since Minho hates his roommates while you love each other’s company.

You’re now packing your things with Hyunjin, who’s been sitting on your bed for the last half-hour rather than helping you as he’d promised. In the past month, he’s been able to come to terms with the fact that his ideal future with you was nothing but a coping mechanism after a month of sulking every time Minho was around. He deleted every shitty dating app on his phone and now focuses on finding love naturally, recently going out with a girl he met in one of his classes. The first time they met was the epitome of a meet-cute, with her accidentally bumping into him and spilling black paint all over his shirt. It brought back memories of when you first met Minho, and you had high hopes that this time things would work out differently for him. But, judging by the scowl on Hyunjin’s face and his nonstop complaining, you were wrong.

“But, be for real, why did it take her six dates to realize she doesn’t think we’ll work out?” He grumbles, spinning one of your necklaces around his finger like it’s a toy. “I paid for every meal, made sure she got at least two orgasms every time we went out, and she just suddenly decides we won’t work out? Fuck off.’’

You chuckle, closing your suitcase after triple-checking that you packed Minho’s Christmas present and walking over to where Hyunjin is sitting, snatching your necklace from his hand.

“Maybe she liked the free food and orgasms too much to let them go.”

Hyunjin scowls. “You’re saying that’s the only reason she went out with me?” He feigns offense, shaking his head. “I hope Minho’s parents hate your guts.”

“Hyunjin!” You exclaim, watching as he bursts out laughing. “Don’t even joke about that. You know how nervous I am.”

“There’s no way they won’t like you,” He assures you, “You’re fucking amazing, not to mention their son loves you. That’s more than enough reason to love you too.”

You clutch the necklace in your hand, humming before turning on your heels to check your drawers for anything you might have missed. Hyunjin using the word love makes you a bit anxious, an unwelcome reminder that you still haven’t been able to overcome this stupid emotional blockage preventing you from telling Minho you love him. The first and only time you’d ever said you loved Minho was that evening at Hyunjin’s dorm, and it hadn’t even been directed at him. Without saying a word, you both understand the love that exists between you — it’s unspoken, but deeply felt — and you’re aware of that, but the fear that one day he’ll grow tired of waiting is painfully tangible inside your mind.

When Minho invited you to spend Christmas with his family, you hesitated at first. Meeting your ex-boyfriends’ families had never been so significant. You were a teenager at the time, the implications were different and the stakes didn’t seem as high. This time, it feels as if getting Minho’s parents to like you is indispensable. How will he go on dating a woman his parents deem unfit for him? Especially with how highly he speaks of his mother, you’re sure her opinion of you will weigh on his mind.

You can only hope they love you half as much as you love their son.

The car ride to Minho’s parents’ house was around half an hour.

Half an hour you spent picking at a loose thread on your skirt and overthinking so much your head ached by the time he parked the car. You hated how nervous you were, but Minho’s parents liking you was a non-negotiable.

After insisting on carrying your own suitcase — just in case his parents might think you’re an overbearing girlfriend if they see Minho carrying your bag for you — the two of you walk up the stairs and into his home. The first thing you notice is how cozy-looking everything is; from the family pictures neatly placed on coffee tables and on the walls, cat furniture and toys mixed in with their actual furniture, down to the fuzzy blankets thrown over the couches.

The second thing that catches your attention is the quietude permeating throughout the house, as well as the fact that the first family member to greet you two is an orange cat.

“Oh, did you miss me this much?” Minho asks in a sweet, singsong voice, similar to how you would speak to a baby. He crouches down to pet the cat, who is now entangling himself between his legs. He introduces you by your name, because Soonie is truly just another family member to him. You chuckle, kneeling next to him and carefully extending your hand toward the orange ball of fur.

“Hello, Soonie,” you speak quietly, afraid you’ll spook him. He eyes you carefully before sniffing your fingers and, ultimately, rubbing his head on your hand. You sigh in relief, petting his fur with a smile.

Minho’s cats liking you was also a non-negotiable.

You place your suitcases in Minho’s childhood bedroom, his parents letting him know they will arrive a little late after going Christmas shopping. Looking around his small room, you smile at all the small things that scream Lee Minho. The pictures of him and his friends back in high school are the first thing you notice, glued to the wall in front of his door lopsided. His thick-rimmed glasses and bowl cut make you smile as you analyze one of the pictures, where he and four other boys hug and smile widely in a karaoke room. Then, of course, his extensive plushie collection sat against a wall to your left — all stacked on top of each other like a mountain — which he proudly shows off to you.

“Y’know, I had to basically fight a little girl at the Sanrio store for this one,” he says, a bit too smugly, while holding a plush of Kuromi dressed in a ladybug costume. “I was sixteen, though, so I think that excuses my behavior. I would never do that nowadays.”

You narrow your eyes, humming skeptically. “Sure you wouldn’t.”

Minho just chuckles, meticulously placing the doll back in its place beside the cherry on top of a rather large Pusheen pudding plushie.

“Oh! You have to see my books.” He takes your hand in his, dragging you toward the wall facing his bed. A bookshelf expanding from the floor to the ceiling makes your mouth drop. You hadn’t noticed it before, with it being hidden away in the corner of the room. The bookshelf is decorated with fairy lights — which Minho promptly switches on — and filled with beautiful books, from intricately designed hard covers to intricate sprayed edges, every single book in his collection has something special about it.

He uses a small metal ladder to reach the top of the shelves before handing you a book so thick your wrist almost bends upon grabbing it. It’s a collection of seven Jane Austen novels, all in a gorgeous blue and golden hardcover. You eye the book like it’s a precious jewel, carefully running your fingers over the details engraved on the cover. Beside you, Minho lets out a breathy laugh, stepping down from the ladder and bumping your shoulder lightly.

“You can open it,” he tells you, but you’re still too mesmerized by the book to look at him. “It’s what books are for, whether they’re pretty or not. You have to open it and read it, otherwise they lose their purpose.”

You nod slowly, but remain unmoving. Minho’s hand suddenly rests on top of yours, and he opens the book for you. The page is entirely annotated, with highlighters and thoughts jotted down on pencil in messy handwriting. Looking up at him, you are met by his smile.

“See? The book is fine, the world didn’t end. I have these special editions because I enjoy collecting pretty things, but I always read them,” he explains, “I like when books reflect the emotions I felt while reading them. I annotate, scribble, highlight — I once threw a special edition Stephen King book across the living room and into a wall. There’s an indentation on it till this day.”

You gasp. “Minho, what the fuck?”

He shrugs dismissively. “I know, I know. All book sins in the eyes of many people. But, like I said, that just reflects the emotions I felt while reading that book. I look through any of these pages and I know exactly what I felt at that time of my life.”

You nod, your lips absentmindedly curling into a smile. Minho truly is something else. You skim the page opened before you, reading some of his annotations and laughing quietly to yourself as he wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

As you close the book, he speaks again, “They’re a bit like people, aren’t they? Pretty and put-together on the outside, but once you really dig in, it’s all a mess and cluster of feelings and passion.”

You and Minho spend an hour lounging around the living room, with you meeting his other two cats during that time. Soonie and Doongie’s adoration toward Minho is clear, with both orange cats always rubbing against his leg or tangling themselves in his sneakers by the door as you two cuddle on the couch. Dori, however, remains laid on his cat tree, barely sparing the two of you a glance. Minho jokes that Dori hates him after he left his first mom, even showing you further proof in the form of a video where the gray cat bites his nose while he sleeps.

Upon hearing the key turn on the front door, your heart is quick to jump. Minho’s parents have arrived.

Sitting up on the couch, you gently push Minho away from you. He shoots you a questioning look.

“What? I don’t want them to think we were doing something indecent.”

“Indecent?” Minho repeats with a chuckle. “We were cuddling, not consummating a marriage on this couch.”

You grumble incoherent words under your breath, shrugging. “I know. I just want them to like me.”

“They were more than okay with seeing me cuddle my ex when I was a teen. We’re both adults, I’m pretty sure they won’t think you’re a filthy harlot.”

You gasp, hitting his chest and hissing through your teeth. “A harlot?”

Minho lets out a long, hearty laugh just as his parents walk through the door.

“Oh, there you are!” You hear his mother’s voice call out as soon as she steps inside the living room. You turn to face her and you’re greeted by the same smile you see on Minho’s face every day — they look so similar you have to hold back a gasp. “It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

You stand up from the couch and smooth down your long skirt, smiling while she walks toward you. You’re caught off guard when she pulls you into a hug as soon as she’s in front of you, her arms squeezing you as she sighs happily into your hair.

“Mom,” Minho calls out, “You’re scaring her.”

His mom pulls away with a chuckle, her left hand pinching her son’s cheek before resting on your shoulder again. “He’s the one who’s scared I’ll embarrass him,” she refutes. “And, god, you’re so pretty! Minho told me you were beautiful, but I just assumed it was the infatuation speaking.”

You feel your cheeks flush at her words, biting back a smile. Minho had talked to his mother about you — had said you were beautiful. You swear if you died tonight, you would die a happy woman.

As his mother steps away from you and into the kitchen, rambling on about how crowded the shopping mall had been, a man comes into your field of vision. He nods courtly before extending his hand, which you shake a bit awkwardly.

“I’m Minho’s dad,” he simply says. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Minho has been very happy on the phone since meeting you.”

And with that, he’s off into the kitchen, following his wife. You’re left a bit dazed. Minho truly was a perfect blend of his mother’s appearance and his father’s calm personality.

Beside you, Minho pulls you into a side hug, his chilly hands caressing your arms. “See? It’s impossible not to love you.”

You freeze for a moment, before relaxing as you realize he’s talking about his parents loving you. You curse yourself inwardly for being so damn emotionally constipated, but let out a sigh of relief nonetheless.

You were worried for so many different reasons — that you wouldn’t measure up to Minho’s first girlfriend, that your personality would be scrutinized until your flaws finally emerged, and that this would be the catalyst for Minho to realize you’re not worth it. Not worth waiting until you can tell him you love him, not worth waiting until you feel like sex isn’t going to just ruin everything between you, not worth the hassle and the chore that is loving someone like you.

But as he walks into the kitchen with you, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist, like he’s proud to show you off to his parents, the level of reliability he radiates is enough to melt away all the annoying little worries you had inside your head.

Christmas eve comes two days later, and you’re rudely woken up in the morning by the sound of Minho’s voice cursing under his breath as he drops something on the floor by his bed. You groan, rubbing your eyes, and he turns to face you with an apologetic look on his face.

“Sorry,” he whispers, kneeling down next to the bed and pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “Good morning.”

“What time is it?”

“Eight, I think.” His fingers brush your hair away from your face. “I didn’t set an alarm ‘cause I didn’t wanna wake you up, but guess my inability to be quiet did that anyway.”

You chuckle lightly, scrunching up your nose. “Why are you up so early?”

“Gotta start cooking dinner soon,” he explains.

“Already?” You ask, perplexed. You knew he cooked Christmas dinner all by himself every year for his family, but you never conceived just how much work that would be for a single person.

Minho is unyielding despite your best efforts at persuading him to stay and cuddle you for a few more hours, and watching him cook is always oddly attractive to you, so you find yourself joining him in the kitchen, wrapped up in one of his many cat print sweaters.

At first, you simply sit up at one of the counters and watch him, mesmerized and all but drooling at the way he rolls up his sleeves, the prominent veins making his arms look so sexy while doing such a mundane thing like chopping fucking vegetables. Not to mention his hands, so beautiful and big as he rubs the seasoning on something you don’t even care to identify because you’re just too busy thinking about those hands all over your body. Only now do you notice how no real sex for almost two months has really taken a toll on you, what with the way you have to cross your legs just to try and relieve some tension because your mind won’t stop thinking about Minho’s veiny arms caging you against this counter and his big hands—

Minho calls out your name, and you snap out of your fantasies, humming as you reluctantly turn your attention toward his face with a dazed expression. He seems to find it funny, as he chuckles before repeating himself, “I asked if you would like to help. I can teach you some of the easy stuff. Must be boring just sitting there and watching.”

Oh, but it isn’t boring at all.

But you’d never tell him that, so you nod before hopping off the counter and awaiting further instructions. Turns out you’re worse at cooking than you had thought, so you’re relegated to chopping duty, which you hate for two reasons — firstly, chopping vegetables is boring, and secondly, you’re now deprived of your view of Minho as you stand with your back turned to him while he cooks.

It’s around five p.m. when Minho’s mom joins you two in the kitchen, and by that time you’ve done all you could, so you’re back to your spot on the counter. She smiles at you before ruffling Minho’s hair as he closes the oven.

“My baby is such a wonderful cook, isn’t he?” she praises, and he shrugs with a smirk.

“I am very boyfriend material, aren’t I?”

You chuckle as you watch his mom carefully fixing his hair which she had messed up, Minho scrunching up his face as she then fixes his wire-frame glasses on his nose.

“I’m so glad you’re wearing your glasses again,” she comments, cupping his cheeks and squeezing before letting go. “You look so handsome.”

“You should thank her,” Minho smiles, turning to look at you, and you shoot him a puzzling look. “Remember on your birthday, when you told me I looked good wearing glasses?” He asks, and you nod slowly. “That’s why I stopped wearing contacts.”

Your mouth opens, but you can’t find the words to answer him. You can feel your cheeks dusting pink as his mom coos at the two of you, saying something about young love that has you gnawing on your lips to hold back the silly smile you want to let out.

Minho’s mom leaves the kitchen shortly after, his father calling her from the living room. He takes this as his chance to approach where you’re sitting, hands resting on your thighs before he presses his lips against yours.

“I wanted to look handsome for you. It’s kinda pathetic, isn’t it?” He chuckles against your lips, and you simply shake your head, tangling your fingers in his black hair that has now grown past his eyes.

“It’s actually fucking adorable,” you assure him, pulling him into another kiss, one much deeper than the last.

He quickly uses his hands to spread your thighs apart, pressing his body into yours as you wrap your legs around his waist. The effect this man has on you is mindboggling; the mere slide of his tongue against your lips has you shivering. It certainly doesn’t help that you are now in the exact position from your imagination earlier today.

Minho always tasted like your own personal favorite flavor, always deliciously swirling on your tongue whenever you kissed him. He always renders your mind fuzzy and silly as bliss consumes the entirety of your being. You can only imagine how sex with him will feel like, and you don’t think you can wait any longer. Your worries be damned. You needed him more than you could handle.

But just as Minho pulls you closer to his body — your core dangerously close to his crotch, and sucking on your tongue in a way that has you mewling against his lips — his mother calls out your names, and you two quickly separate, startled as if you were burned. She informs you his grandmother has arrived and you two walk to the living room to greet her. You silently thank the universe for her not walking into the kitchen; the last thing you want is for Minho’s poor grandmother to catch you two making out on the counter like two teenagers.

She is a sweet lady, certainly not as old as you expected her to be, and she always has a smile etched onto her lips stained with red lipstick. You don’t even have to ask to know she is his mother’s mom, as the three of them share the exact same smile you grew to love so much.

You find yourself even more comfortable today, as you help both women set up the table for dinner — his grandma meticulously placing a beautiful lace cloth over the table while telling you about how this was one of her late husband’s first gifts to her when they first moved in together.

It felt as if you were part of the family.

And as you turn on your heels to grab the fancy silverware from a cabinet, your eyes meet Minho’s gaze. With a smile on his face, he stands by the kitchen door, watching you, and your heart swells with joy.

This was everything you never thought love could be.

Christmas dinner was amazing — as you knew it would be. Minho’s cooking is always fantastic, and pure happiness is written all over his face whenever he was complimented. The way he offers to serve everyone, watching intently as each of you took the first bite before he finally allowed himself to eat as well, his lips upturned into a grin and his ears red as you all hummed and gasped at how tasty everything was. It’s his love language; from the way he carefully and methodically prepares the food, to the way he enjoys watching other people eat more than eating himself. He shows his love through his cooking, you realize, and you smile as you think back to numerous times you woke up in the morning with a beautiful table set with breakfast for you after he spent the night at your house.

You haven’t put it into words yet, but he has unquestionably been showing his love for you through his little actions.

And that’s what you want to do tonight as well.

After watching a cliche Christmas movie with his family, you two are now the only ones awake with you drying off the dishes Minho’s washing. He looks beautiful even now, with his hands clad in neon green dishwashing gloves.

“Minho,” you call out, poking his rib with the plate he just handed you. He squirms with a giggle, warning you to not tickle him. You simply hum, continuing as nonchalantly as you can. “Do you wanna have sex tonight?”

His hand stills, dropping a knife on the sink as his head turns abruptly to look at you, eyes bewildered. “What? What, and you ask me this now? While we’re doing the dishes?” He sputters, and you grin with a shrug.

“It’s not a big deal,” you say, placing the plate on top of the counter. “I just… really wanna do it. Really want you.”

Minho turns off the tap — at least five knives left ignored at the bottom of the sink — removes his gloves and lets out a heavy sigh.

“Okay, not what I expected to happen on Christmas night, but I’ll take it.”

You both stare at each other for a beat, before inexplicably bursting out laughing. Maybe it’s the sheer suddenness of your request, or the absurdity of the situation you were in when it happened, but you can’t help it.

As you both calm down, Minho pulls you into his arms and informs you that he will have to go out and buy condoms, since he truly wasn’t expecting anything to happen. You don’t fault him, the two months you’ve been together were filled with you all but running away from sex. You couldn’t help it, your brain always dragging you back to that night in Japan, and the way he avoided your gaze in the morning. Although you knew it was irrational, and that he was simply shy, your self-sabotaging skills were too great, and your mind insisted that if you had sex with Minho too soon he would think you were nothing but a slut. That’s what you were told most of your life, anyway, so you couldn’t be blamed for the way your brain was almost conditioned into assuming the same.

But Minho had proved time and time again that he was not like the awful guys before him, and that all your worrying was unwarranted and foolish. You were depriving yourself of something you wanted badly out of sheer insecurity and attachment to experiences so far in the past it was almost masochistic at this point.

You insist on joining him on his impromptu trip to the convenience store, only throwing one of his sweaters over the dress and tights you wore for Christmas dinner.

Minho holds your hand as you two walk down the empty street, Christmas lights from the houses and stores making everything seem almost like a movie. You spot the familiar logo from across the street, and Minho bumps his shoulder with you while you head toward the convenience store chain where you both once worked.

“This is actually the exact one I used to work at,” He tells you as you look through a fridge hidden away in the back of the store. “I loved working the graveyard shift. I rang up so many couples awkwardly buying condoms like they were buying hard drugs.”

You chuckle, settling for some pudding you two could share later. “Will that be us tonight?”

He shrugs. “We’re adults, it’s normal to buy these things. Unless you want me to act like I’m buying crack cocaine, then I’d be happy to indulge you.”

You stick your tongue out at him with a light shove, turning to look through the rather lacking options on the condom shelf.

“Grape flavor?” Minho makes a face as he eyes one of the boxes. “Who the fuck would want the artificial taste of grapes when fucking?”

You shrug. “Could be worse, imagine banana-flavored condoms. I think I’d throw up all over your dick.”

“That’s sexy,” He jokes, and you let out a loud chuckle, earning you a look from the only other person at the store this time of night on Christmas eve.

Among your other options are a green glow-in-the-dark condom — which would only make you think of Shrek while Minho fucks you — and a strawberry-flavored one. You decide to play it safe, grabbing a box of plain, thin condoms and placing them in the basket Minho’s carrying.

“Let’s just go for the safest option,” you tell him, “We’ll have plenty of time to play around later if you want, though I’ll go on birth control once we’re back home so we won’t even need them anyway.”

You watch as Minho’s eyes widen for a second, his eyebrows shooting up almost comically.

“Sure, yeah.”

“Don’t short-circuit now. I need you functioning to fuck me.”

“Keep saying shit like that and I’ll be broken before we even make it back to my house,” he states matter-of-factly, and you chuckle, shaking your head at his words. But Minho’s expression remains unchanged. “I mean it. It’s been over a year since I’ve had proper sex. I’m surprised I didn’t combust the second you said those words to me in the kitchen.”

With a chuckle, you pull him to your side and walk toward the cashier. It’s a poor teenage boy, no older than eighteen, clearly bored out of his mind and wishing to be anywhere but here. As he rings up your items, Minho points to his phone that’s resting on the counter.

“That’s Ahri from League of Legends, right?” He asks, and the boy looks up, his eyes sparking with interest. He nods. “I don’t play, but I’m a game programmer, so I know a little bit about it. What’s your rank?”

“Grandmaster,” the boy answers proudly, his face lighting up with a hint of joy, probably for the first time since his shift started.

“Oohh,” Minho gasps loudly, basically hyping up this random boy at the convenience store. You watch the interaction with a silly smile on your face. “And you’re still young, wouldn’t be surprised to see you at World’s someday.”

The boy shakes his head dismissively as Minho hands him his card, but smiles nonetheless. Once he hands you your things, he speaks again, “Are you from around here, hyung? Let me know when you have a game out, I’d love to try it. See if you’re any good.”

Minho raises his brows at the obvious teasing lilt in his voice, lips upturning into a grin. “How about this? I’ll give you the beta code and you can start your career of testing games for money.”

“You’ll pay me?” The cashier marvels at the words, and Minho simply nods. He jots down a code from his phone into a scrap piece of paper on the counter, the boy’s face now a complete shift from the expression he wore when you first walked in, all because of Minho and his ability to be kind and sweet no matter the person or circumstance.

As you head back to his house, only the two of walk along the shy streets as the clock hands turn past midnight. Among all the bad people in this world, you’re indescribably happy that a man as good as him is the one walking beside you down this street, firmly holding your hand.

You arrive home and quietly head straight into Minho’s room. You thank any higher power that might exist for the fact that his room is the only one on the first floor, as you would have to endure your desperate need and desire for him until you got home if it wasn’t. Any of Minho’s family members walking in or hearing you two have sex would make you want to flee the country and change your name.

He joins you after storing your puddings in the fridge, making you jump with his arms wrapped around your waist while you were blankly staring at the pictures on his wall. You sigh, the realization of what was going to happen only really dawning on you now that you stand in Minho’s bedroom, and your mind starts to wander and doubt everything all over again.

“I kind of ruined the mood by asking to have sex, didn’t I?” You ask as Minho places a chaste kiss on your cheek before resting his chin on your shoulder.

“There was really no mood in the first place,” he lets out a breathy chuckle. “We were washing the dishes.”

You roll your eyes, once again more annoyed at yourself than at him. You could only hope that your awful propensity of bringing up these irritating thoughts of yours at the worst possible moments didn’t drive Minho away from you. Could only hope you were worth it in the end.

“I know, it’s just…” You trail off with another heavy sigh. “This guy I dated hated that. Said I should just initiate it instead of asking like it was a business transaction.”

You feel Minho shake his head. “That’s stupid. Why would I think that?” He sounds incredulous, and hearing him say it makes you realize just how asinine that thought really was. “We had to buy condoms, anyway. It’s also good that you’re comfortable asking me that. It’s as it should be.”

And you can only smile, biting back a giggle because of course he thinks that. It’s as if Jane Austen came back from the dead simply to write Lee Minho.

His arms tighten around your waist, and you turn your head to look at him. “You should really stop thinking about… them,” He hesitates, “Your exes, I mean. Stop comparing, assuming everything will be the same and have the same sad ending. You need to let go of that in order to truly heal. I hate how every time I’m good to you, or do the bare fucking minimum, your mind spins it into something being your fault. I hate what they did to you so much.”

You feel your breath get caught in your throat, tears threatening to spill much like they do every time you are faced with this topic. But you hold them in. You don’t want to cry, not right now, not when everything is so perfect with Minho. So, instead, you take in his words. He’s undoubtedly right, and you must force yourself to face this uncomfortable truth.

Slowly, you promise yourself. You smile at him, a silent promise to him, and you know he understands you when he smiles back, his lips pressing a kiss to your lips.

He lets go of you and rummages through his drawers, and you look around once more. His plushie mountain, the pictures of his childhood and high school days. You scrunch up your nose.

“Will it be too weird to have sex in your childhood bedroom?”

From where you’re standing, his back turned to you, you can faintly make out the tip of his ears turning red as he runs a finger through his hair.

“Well, not really…” He trails off, “I had sex with my ex-girlfriend here all the time when we skipped school together.”

You let out a gasp. “Lee Minho skipped school?”

He chuckles, closing his drawers and immediately wrapping his arms around you. He’s a lot more touchy since you brought this whole topic up, you notice.

“My parents were always at work, though, so this is my first time doing it while they’re right upstairs,” He explains, bringing his finger up to your lips and lowering his voice to a harsh whisper. “So we’ll have to be quiet.”

You roll your eyes with a smile, nodding. You know all too well you’ll probably be too quiet. Once again your trauma playing a part in this, the words an old boyfriend harshly spilled about you being too loud and vocal have always been present in your head. Now that you think about it, all these moments and words are like post-it notes stuck to your mind, and you skim through like a student cramming for an exam every day in search of one that applies to your current situation. It was excruciating.

Hyunjin tried his best to change this about you, always assuring you he liked to hear you during sex when he noticed your pursed and bitten lips, and that you should be vocal about what you want and like. But you always settled for nods and quiet hums instead.

Minho presses a quick kiss on your forehead then. “I’m gonna shower ‘cause my hands still smell like onions and garlic after washing them a thousand times,” he tells you. “I’ll be right back.”

As you’re busying yourself looking through Minho’s extensive collection of books, a meow pulls your attention toward the door. It’s Dori, the gray cat you’ve decided is your favorite since it’s the only one you can easily recognize. He stares for a beat before approaching you, and you kneel carefully to stroke his soft fur. You soon find yourself sitting down by the bed with Dori on your lap, purring away as your mind travels to a future in which you and Minho adopt cats of your own, all while living together and making plans for the rest of your lives. It terrifies you slightly to allow yourself to have these thoughts because if things were to go wrong with Minho, this would only be another ‘what if’ that would haunt you.

Another post-it note to your already cluttered-up mind.

But his words from earlier come back to you just as you begin to panic. You have to let go of the past and stop assuming only the worst outcomes are attainable. And so you simply smile at the imagination, letting your mind run wild while Dori falls asleep on your lap, his gray fur all over your red dress.

You and Dori both jump as Minho all but slams the door when he returns, a towel in his hand drying his damp hair. He cringes at the sound, cursing under his breath. Dori leaves your lap, and you stand up with a pout. He definitely is your favorite cat among the three.

“Sorry,” Minho whispers, as if that will compensate for the loud noise. You take in his appearance; a green Christmas sweater and bright red sweatpants. You bite back a smile, because that’s so him.

“Your outfit is doing a great job of seducing me,” you jest, and he shrugs with a cocky grin.

“I know no woman can resist a Christmas sweater.”

He pulls you into him with a hand around your waist, his lips crashing into yours in a deep kiss. You notice he’s more frantic, less careful than he usually is, his fingers digging into the fabric of your dress as his hands slide up your back. He pulls away, breathless and flushed, and just looks at you for a moment. You can see the shift in his eyes, yearning swimming all over his brown orbs.

Clumsily, he shuts off the lights behind him then switches on the fairy lights adorning his bookshelf, his left hand still firmly clutching your body. Until it suddenly loosens, and you cock your head to the side.

“Okay, you gotta leave,” he says, and you follow his gaze, landing on Dori, who stares up at him almost defiantly. Minho lets out a sigh, opening his door before walking toward the cat and motioning toward the exit as if he will understand him. “Come on, I’ll give you treats later, hm? But you need to leave now, Dori.”

You fail to hold back a chuckle. “Why does the poor baby have to leave? He looks so comfortable snuggled up on the floor.”

“I can’t have sex while Dori watches,” he deadpans as if it were an obvious answer. “It’ll be weird.”

“Minho, it’s a cat. He doesn’t know what’s going on.”

“It’s still weird! And I…” He trails off, running a hand through his hair. He’s still facing the door when he blurts out, “I told you, I’m already really fucking nervous ‘cause it’s been a while since I’ve had sex. I might not be the best.”

You shake your head with a smile, crossing your arms over your chest. “Minho, that’s not possible.”

“Yes, it is!” He finally turns to face you. “Remember back in Japan? I came too fast, it was embarrassing. That’s why I never let you touch me.”

You jokingly pout at him. “Thought you just liked eating me out.”

“I fucking love eating you out, but I’m not exactly refusing that you do the same because I want to,” he explains, “I’m just scared I’ll be bad at it.”

You furrow your brows. “Bad at… getting a blowjob?”

Minho’s ears are dusted a light pink, and he throws his hands up. “Well, yes! Back in Japan I didn’t even know what to do with my hands. I don’t know what you like, and I haven’t been with anyone else to know what most people like so…” He lets out an exasperated sigh. “Fuck, I was so nervous that night, you have no idea.”

“You were nervous?” You let out a huff, recalling Minho’s clear shift in demeanor that night. “Looking into my eyes the entire time and pinning me down to the bed, that’s you being nervous?”

His entire face now flushes red, and he returns his gaze toward the door, where Dori paddles out of the room graciously. He promptly shuts the door, locking it this time.

“I was nervous,” He tells you, taking a step toward you. “I kept looking at you ‘cause I couldn’t believe that was actually happening. Felt like you were gonna disappear if I looked away,” His hands cup your face gently, and your lips unknowingly curl into a smile. “And when you looked at me in the morning, all I could think about was how awful I was the night before.”

You have to fight the strong urge to laugh because god, that’s why he was acting shy and avoiding your gaze. You berate yourself for even thinking otherwise, for ever assuming Minho could be like your ex-boyfriends. His words ring even more true than before.

You let out a groan, realizing you two have been putting off having sex for such mindless reasons. When he shoots you a questioning gaze, you simply say, “Minho, we’re both fucking idiots, d’you know that?”

And before he can say anything else or even entertain the idea of overthinking any more, you pull him into a kiss. With a surprised hum, Minho gently pushes you back, and your knees meet the softness of the mattress causing you to fall back into his bed. He climbs on top of you, pulling away from the kiss.

“You still gotta tell me what you like,” he repeats, his lips all but pouting at you. You smile up at him.

“No,” you say simply, pushing his hair back with your fingers as it fell into his eyes. “It’s better if we figure that out together, isn’t it?”

Minho chuckles, promptly pressing his lips to yours, your hand tugging at his hair gently as his tongue glides across your lips, causing a soft whine to slip from your throat before you can stop it.

“I like that,” he says between kisses, “When you make these pretty noises.”

You feel your cheeks heat up at his words and take that as your chance to take the first small step in healing, adding a post-it to your mind, reminding you not to suppress any noise that Minho coaxes out of you tonight.

The atmosphere in his room feels perfect — like heaven, as he would say. The soft yellow glow emanating from his bookshelf made everything seem dreamy; his honey skin looked stunning, and his eyes gleamed like the stars in the sky every time they met yours.

It was undoubtedly so much more intimate and passionate than any other time you had sex before, and you were both still fully clothed.

It was just like what Minho had told you many months ago.

His hands travel through your body until they rest on your back, finding the buttons of your dress, slowly opening each one as his lips trail down your neck, softly sucking on the skin. As he gingerly slides your dress down your torso, you realize that this will be the first time you two see each other naked. Yet, you don’t feel nervous. You want nothing more than to be close to him, with no barriers between you, to finally be tangled with him like the roots on the ground.

Minho unclasps your bra, his gaze unmoving from your chest as he slips the garment off of your skin and drops it on the floor. It’s almost as if you can feel his gaze burning you, your chest tightening and your breath hitching in your throat. He licks his lips, leaning down to wrap them around your nipple, his hand promptly finding your other breast and softly massaging it. You let out a choked gasp, tugging at his hair.

You feel his lips stretch into a smile before he softly bites the bud.

“So you like this,” He mumbles, pressing a wet kiss to your nipple. “Duly noted.”

You giggle at his words, your hands tangling in his hair once more. His kisses travel up again, from your chest to your neck, until he’s back to kissing your lips. Both of his hands now massage your breasts, alternating between rolling your nipples between his rough fingers and pinching them lightly, causing a rush to spread across your entire body. You feel your arousal trickle down your slit as you grow more desperate.

“Minho,” you call out between kisses, and he hums against your lips. “Do something,” you all but beg him, yearning for some release as you feel the small, unrelenting pulse between your thighs grow stronger with each stroke of his finger across your chest. Your hands now grasp at his sweater, tugging it over his head, the fabric also discarded somewhere on the floor of his room.

Your hands travel over the expanse of his chest, fingertips taking in every inch of his soft skin. Breaking away from his lips, you push him back softly so you can revel in the sight of him; his delicate collar bones, his strong arms, and soft stomach. He’s beautiful, breathtakingly so, and you don’t know what you did to be deserving of him.

“Enjoying the view?” He jokes, and you breathe out a laugh, your gaze flying up toward his face — his lips swollen, and his cheeks flushed a pretty red.

“Minho, you’re so beautiful,” you whisper absentmindedly, and he smiles at you, softly pressing his lips to yours.

“You should see how you look,” he whispers.

His left hand soon slips underneath your dress skirt, fingertips grazing your skin over your tights. You feel goosebumps trickle along your thighs following his every touch, so eager to feel his hands on your skin you’re sure you’ll rip your tights in half yourself if Minho doesn’t get rid of them soon.

He seems to grow as impatient as you, lifting your hips with a strong grip to slide down your dress, tights, and panties off of you all in one go. In no time, you are now laid bare before him, and Minho is swift to trail kisses down your stomach, sloppy and messy, painting your skin with his saliva as his mouth waters at the mere prospect of tasting you.

With a heavy sigh, he stares at your glistening wetness before promptly wrapping his lips around your clit without a warning and sucking, ardently, vulgar sounds filling his small room much like they do every time he eats you out. Always messy, always eager, humming against your pussy and sighing as his eyes glaze over with pure want.

You squirm like lighting has shocked through your entire body. No matter how often you experience the satisfaction of Minho’s lips on you, it always leaves you trembling like it’s the first time. His right hand slides up the expanse of your stomach until it reaches your breast again, his thumb lazily circling your nipple. You purse your lips as his fingers tentatively trail across your folds, spreading your wetness up to your clit before lapping at it slowly, the small bud swollen and aching.

You’re quick to remember to open your mouth, letting out the heavy sigh that had stuck to your throat as his finger enters you, Minho still licking and sucking your sensitive clit, nipping harshly and making your sigh fade into a whine. Hand tangling in his hair and tugging, you elicit a low groan from his throat, which you feel reverberate through your slick folds.

Your thighs shake as he adds a second finger, and soon a third, thrusting them inside of you and stroking your walls more vigorously than he usually does, as if he somehow also feels your pleasure and needs to lead you to your high as quickly as possible.

Minho’s hand leaves your chest, and you bite back a pout, his fingers now gripping your hips before pushing them up so he can reach deeper. It isn’t long before his fingers drag across the spot inside of you that has your muscles tensing up, a strangled moan falling from your lips at the sensations coupled with the unrelenting feeling of his tongue on your clit. You come undone around his fingers and lips with a harsh tug of his black hair, rutting your hips against his face desperately, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as you do.

He laps up your juices as you slowly come down from your high, tongue flicking inside of you and sucking hard before he presses a long kiss to your cunt. Your entire body jerks in response to the overstimulation.

His kisses travel toward your inner thigh, your lower stomach and breasts until he reaches your neck, where his teeth nip at the soft skin, sucking harshly before his tongue soothingly licks at the spot. As Minho positions himself between your thighs again, you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Your mind goes hazy for a beat as you feel the thick outline of his cock press against your bare core.

“Minho,” you call out again, your voice significantly more whiny this time around, shaky and breathless, “Wanna taste you.”

He groans against your skin, pressing small kisses up your neck until he ultimately stops against your open lips. He breathes out a heavy sigh.

“Really want that, too,” he rasps out, voice hoarse as his dark eyes travel across your face. “But I really wanna fuck you. Shit, I need to fuck you so badly you have no idea,” He groans. You feel his length jump at his words as he presses your foreheads together and locks his gaze with you. “That’ll be hard to do if your pretty lips go anywhere near my cock.”

You breathe out a chuckle, pressing a small kiss to his lips. “Then get to it,” you simply say.

Minho’s lips curl into a grin. “Will you remember to be quiet for me this time? My baby sounded so pretty coming around my fingers.”

Your cheeks flush, just how loud you were before only now dawning on you. Fuck. Your words get stuck to your throat, your mouth opening but making no sound, so you settle for a nod.

He chuckles. “Good,” he replies with a kiss to your agape lips.

Minho sits up, detangling himself from your body briefly. He reaches for the box on his bedside table, scrambling with the cardboard before clumsily tearing it open and retrieving a condom. It’s only then you notice how his hands are trembling, from nervousness or pure lust. Either way, you find yourself smiling at the sight.

You reach out to run a hand along his arm soothingly, watching with hungry eyes as he tugs at his drawstrings before freeing his cock from the confines of his sweatpants. Minho hisses as he rolls the rubber over his length, shaky hands stroking himself one, two, three times, all while you eye him, watching greedily as if you were his own personal captive audience.

He lowers himself once again, hand now sliding across the length of your thigh before gripping the flesh, nails digging into your skin as he eyes you with an almost pleading gaze.

“Can I—”

“Please do,” you answer, almost frantically, before he even has the time to assume you might say no. You inch your thighs apart even more so Minho can slot himself perfectly between them.

Your mouth waters as you catch sight of him gripping his cock once more, tapping it against your swollen clit and eliciting a whine from your lips as your hands scramble to find purchase in his strong arms. Minho’s eyes then find yours much like they did back in Japan, and you know you are done for. His dark gaze once again felt all-consuming — desire and adoration swimming along his brown eyes, looking at you as if he were in a daze. Your grip on his arms tightens as he lazily slides his cock up and down your soaked slit, coating himself in your arousal. Minho’s lips fall open as he continues his movements, the blunt head of his cock gliding along your folds almost painfully slow.

He leans in to close the small gap between your lips, before whispering something you can’t quite understand against them.

“I fucking love you,” he repeats himself more clearly, and finally pushes forward, his girth pushing into you as you gasp, feeling as if all the air has been stolen from you.

You aren’t sure if your reaction is due to his words, or the way his cock is working you open so good, or maybe it was a delicious blend of the two. All you know at the moment is Minho, Minho, Minho, your mind foggy as his name rings inside your head like a mantra.

“Don’t gotta say anything back,” he tells you in a breathy voice, “Just want you to know I love— Fuck,” he groans as he is now fully sheathed inside of you, and you clench at both the feeling and the words spilling from his lips. Of course he would choose now to tell you he loved you. “Love you so much, so much I’d do anything for you. Would wage a war with the world if you asked me to…” He babbles, words slipping past his lips like they were the easiest thing for him to say. Like he meant it so deeply, he didn’t have to put any thought into it. His words only die as he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your lips.

Minho pulls his hips back in one swift motion, hands lifting your thighs around his body as he thrusts into you, evoking a rather loud noise from the back of your throat which is smothered by his kiss.

“You take me so well,” he growls against your lips, “We fit perfectly.” He breaks the kiss to look down at where your two bodies are connected. It felt as if you were one, melting into each other little by little the more Minho thrust his cock inside of you. You simply nod, mind even more dizzy with the way he’s already pulling out again before slamming back into you, his pace quickening as he presses you into the mattress.

Your nails dig into his skin, crescent moon shapes blooming over the expanse of his honey skin. His eyes still bore into you, hips now thrusting at an unrelenting pace, his small room filled with a cacophony of wet sounds, whines tumbling from your parted lips and curses that almost silently fell from his.

“Gonna come soon,” Minho chokes out, his eyebrows furrowing, “I’m sorry, I—”

You silence him with a press of your lips, hands now tangling in his messy hair.

“You’re always so good to me,” you tell him, feeling his cock pulse inside of your walls. “Wanna be good to you too, make you feel good.”

And he simply leans down before kissing you reverently. The sound of his skin slapping against yours mixed with the creaking of his bed likely much too loud, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. At least not at the moment. Not with the way his hand snakes along your hips, rough fingers now rolling delicious circles around your clit while his other palm presses down onto your abdomen, and his cock continuously hits a spot inside of you that has you all but crumbling apart underneath him.

Your mouth falls open, breaking the kiss, his cock twitching inside of you as his body stills on top of you. With furrowed brows and agape lips, Minho comes mere seconds before you reach your high as well, toes curling against his back as you melt onto his cock.

You stay that way for a while — a few seconds, maybe minutes — simply looking at each other as your labored breaths intertwine.

You finally reach up, brushing his dampened hair away from his beautiful eyes that now look at you as if you were the sole reason why the stars sparkle. Minho’s fingers soon find yours, tangling together as he brings your hands to his lips and presses a chaste kiss to your knuckles.

You smile.

You love him.

It’s not a realization but rather a confirmation of something you’ve already known all too well and for far too long. You still can’t put it into words, but somehow, you are certain that he knows just as well.

Minho accidentally awoke you in the morning with his habit of slamming his door shut, apologizing as you grumbled at him and insisted you would only accept his apology if he let you give him a blowjob. He laughed, simply pulling you closer to him on the bed as he sat up and you finally gave the most beautiful man you had ever met the head he deserved.

Minho’s parents and grandmother had left to eat at a fancy restaurant, and after lying through his teeth and telling his very distraught mother that you were feeling too sick to leave the bed, you two stayed behind. They didn’t have to know the real reason you couldn’t leave the bed — Minho and his apparent insatiable hunger for you. It was as if something had been awoken inside him now that he had a taste of you, and he had to make up for all the lost time.

You two only leave his room late in the afternoon, the sun setting on the pale winter sky outside his bedroom window. His family would arrive soon, and you needed to get ready for their tradition of opening Christmas presents while watching bad holiday movies.

When Minho followed you when you headed toward the bathroom, you thought little of it. It was only when he began undressing alongside you that panic truly set in.

“We literally had sex, why do you sound so horrified?” Was all he offered you when you asked what he was doing before entering the steamy shower with you.

It was your first time showering with someone, and the fact that it made you so nervous felt almost pathetic. Minho was right; you had sex, and you saw each other naked and sweaty and vulnerable. This shouldn’t be any different.

Except it was.

You found yourself too awkward to wash yourself, doing a terrible job at pretending to scrub at your arms as you watched Minho shower like a normal person. He let out a chuckle after rinsing his hair, shaking his head.

“Are you seriously shy? Seriously?” He asked, turning your body around so your back faced him. “The girl who begged to suck my cock just this morning is too shy to shower in front of me?”

You opened your lips to refute him, but your words died in your mouth as you felt Minho’s hand spread shampoo all over your hair. His fingers gently massaged your scalp before placing his hand over your eyes to shield them from the foam as he rinsed your hair. He repeated the process with conditioner, then moved on to wash your body with his almost sickly sweet watermelon body wash. He did it all while humming, making you so relaxed and comfortable that all your silly insecurities dissipated in the air along with the steam from the hot water.

Suffice to say, showering without Minho would now be a sad affair.

You are now sitting on the floor before the television, his family exchanging gifts. Dori purred on your lap, and Soonie bit Minho’s socks, trying his best to remove the fabric from his feet. It’s finally time for you two to exchange gifts, and you’re a bit glad his family seemed to be so immersed in the movie because you know you would combust if you had to explain your gift to them.

“Here,” you hand him an orange box with a black bow. “It’s stupid. Now that I think about it, it’s probably such a fucking dumb gift. It seemed like a good idea at the time, and Eunha even made one for her sister. I almost stole hers ‘cause it turned out much better than mine—”

“My god,” Minho interrupts you with a hearty laugh, taking the box in his hands and inspecting it. “It’s been a while since you word vomited so much. What the hell did you get me that made you so nervous?”

He pulls on the bow, unraveling it before taking the black fabric in his hands and tying it around your head. He laughs once more, and you roll your eyes.

“Minho, just get to it before I snatch this box from you.”

With one last chuckle, he finally opens the box. He stills as he takes in the notebook, sitting on top of far too much wrapping tissue paper. The cat print cardstock paper was a pain to find, but it’s worth it now as you watch Minho’s lips curl into a smile as his fingers gingerly travel through the cover. It was crooked, a bit too small, and still reeked of bookbinding glue, but it reminds you of the day you met Minho, and that was all you thought about when you decided on this gift.

“You fucking bound me a notebook,” he says, still bewildered.

“Took me a while, but I did say I was gonna do it. I’m a woman of my word.”

Minho looks up at you, his smile reaching his eyes and turning them into the pretty crescent moons you love so much. “I love it,” he beams, hands now squeezing your cheeks as he pulls you into a small kiss. “This and that coffee stained notebook are going on my bookshelf back in my dorm, displayed in all their glory.”

Minho pulls away and reaches toward two small boxes on the coffee table. He clears his throat, handing you one box as he settles the other on his lap.

“I thought of you when I saw this on my Instagram feed,” he simply says, fingers toying with the misshaped bow on top of the box — one very similar to the one on your birthday gift many months ago. “Thought about what we talked about in Japan, y’know, about soulmates.”

You raise a brow at him, quickly undoing the bow on your box as curiosity washes over you. You pick up a bracelet made only of red thread, eyeing it curiously.

Minho retrieves the same bracelet from his own box, putting it on before asking, “Have you heard of the red string of fate?”

“That myth that a thread connects two people meant to be together?” You question.

He nods. “Exactly. I feel like that was us,” He explains, taking the red bracelet from your hands and slipping it around your wrist before gently tightening the thread. “Feel like all our little coincidences were little threads tying us together until we met.”

You feel the tears well up in your eyes, but you don’t bother trying to hide or stop them this time. Grabbing Minho’s hand that stilled around your wrist, you lace your fingers together, admiring your matching bracelets. It could only be fate. Every small detail that aligned and every road you two crossed to reach the place where you are now could only have come to be because fate wanted it to be that way.

Out of every city you could have lived in, every different university you could have chosen to attend, down to every other seat that could have been empty on the day you met Minho — everything fell into place like a puzzle piece, exactly as if a long, invisible string tied you to him and finally decided it was time to pull you together.

Minho’s gentle touch brushes against your cheek as he silently wipes your tears — no words are needed between you two at that moment as he smiles softly at you while you feel your eyes burn from the cry you had held back for so long. And, as if you’re his mirror, you feel yourself smile as his lips upturn into a grin when his gaze shifts to the open window.

“It’s snowing,” he beams. “It’s the first snow of the year, and our first snow together.”

You stand in front of Minho’s house, the light snow falling softly and covering your heads in white as he kisses you, only stopping to grumble against your lips.

“Your phone’s going crazy in my pocket,” He pouts, and you furrow your brows. You had already sent your family holiday messages, and your friends were all busy with their own Christmas celebrations, so you were clueless about who it could be.

“Can you check it for me?”

Minho nods, untangling himself from your embrace just enough to reach into his pocket and grab your phone to unlock it.

“There’s like fifty new messages from a group chat. Best Fucking Five?” He chuckles lightly at the name, his chilly breath tickling your cheek.

You, on the other hand, immediately frowned as you heard the name. It’s a long-forgotten group chat with your old friend group from high school. You had all stopped talking a little before graduation, with you especially distancing yourself from them upon realizing their toxic words and reactions to your relationships only served to make you feel worse about yourself. No one bothered to leave or delete the group since it quietly died and had stayed that way for over three years now.

Minho hands you the phone, and you click another notification that pops up as soon as you unlock the device.

The conversation began with your former friend sending a screenshot of one of your ex-boyfriend’s newest Instagram post. You skim through the caption and blanch at the words accompanied by a sonogram picture. His girlfriend is pregnant, and he’s over the moon about it.

And you, for some reason, find yourself laughing so much you have to clutch onto Minho’s shoulder as your stomach starts to hurt.

He shoots you an understandably puzzled look, but you can’t stop the giggles that spill from your lips, so you settle on showing him the screenshot.

“I got the best Christmas gift tonight,” Minho reads from the screen. “I'm going to be a dad, and the most wonderful woman I’ve ever known is the mother,” he trails off with a questioning lilt, brows furrowing as that had only confused him more.

“It’s one of my exes,” you manage to tell him after catching your breath.

Minho hums, taking your hands and shoving them in his overcoat pocket along with your phone.

“And why did that make you lose your mind laughing?” He asks with a small smile.

“I guess it was the shock, really. It also made me realize just how little I care about him now. All of them, actually. Every time I was broken up with or had my heart broken in some way, it honestly felt like the end of the world,” you explain, “Like my heart would never recover and like I would hate them for the rest of my life. For years I had such a strong ax to grind with them, and that hatred and grudge only caused me harm. It made me hate love, and it made me blame myself.”

Minho nods, pressing his forehead to yours. Around you two, the snow got thicker, and only the distant sounds of children laughing from neighboring houses could be heard throughout the quiet street.

“But it’s different now?”

You smile up at him. “It’s different now, and I only just realized that. These people are no longer people I hate. They’re simply their words and their actions toward me, but they, as people, mean nothing to me.”

Minho smiles and wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. This realization makes you feel lighter, like a small part of the weight of healing has been removed from the equation. It’s only you and yourself now; none of them has any power over your emotions anymore.

“Maybe we should send the baby a present,” you joke, and Minho buries his head in the crook of your neck with a chuckle, and you jump as his cold nose brushes against your skin.

“Maybe we should.”

At that moment, in the arms of this amazing man who has helped you more than he will ever know, you realize that love truly isn’t bad. People can be bad, circumstances can be catastrophic, and wrong timing can destroy nearly everything. But love is, at the core of it all, good.

“Minho,” you call out, feeling him hum against your skin before lifting his head to look at you. “I love you,” you say simply.

His smile rivals every pretty thing around you. The first snow, the gleaming Christmas decorations, and even the moon herself pale in comparison to the smile that Minho gives you.

“I love you, too,” he replies, a tangible sense of bliss in his voice, as if he has yearned for a lifetime to finally be able to say those words to you.

You wrap your arms tighter around Minho, and your fingers brush against the red thread that adorns your wrist. It truly feels as if fate had led you to Minho, leaving little clues along the way to make sure you both knew when you finally met. His journey to you had been relatively easy, while yours had been heart-wrenching, but in the end, it had brought you heaven.

If soulmates really are a thing, there is not an ounce of doubt in your being that Minho is yours. More than anything, he taught you that love is present in everything around you. Love is being kind to others like Minho is kind to his family and strangers in convenience stores at midnight. Love is staying up with your best friend while she cries on the couch, not expecting anything in return. Love is the laughter of little kids on Christmas night echoing throughout a neighborhood. Love is also going out on your own, doing something simply because it will make you happy, and being kind to yourself. All this time, you held onto the belief that love is destructive and only leads to sadness, oblivious to the fact that it has surrounded you every step of the way.

Love is everywhere and in everything.

In the end, Minho had always been right.

Love is the most amazing thing in life.

♡ taglist: @notevenheretbh1, @malunar28replies, @jazziwritesthings, @finchyyy, @bloom-ings, @linocz, @minhochaos, @lastgreatamericandynasty1, @missminhoe, @jungkookies1002, @meanergreener

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 3 months ago

Text

Chapter 4: You Want to Live Where?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you neve expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team. (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy.

Word Count: 7.6K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), swearing, mentions of sex, sexual innuendo, sexual tension. Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

You lay down the $2.50 map of NYC that you bought at the bodega next door to Butcher's apartment building on the giant threadbare wooden table that serves as the group dining room table. Everyone was still in Jersey, for what reason you didn't know, but it meant that the apartment was silent.

Aka. Ben wasn't here to drive you to murder.

After Annie and you had said goodbye, she went back to Vought Tower because Ashley had called and complained about something that you couldn't hear over the sounds of the city outside the coffee shop. You were hoping that she'd text you later to dish about Ashley's probably insane request. While you kept your promise to Butcher about plotting out where the carjackings were happening and noting the auto shops nearby.

He had left you the complete lists of where the cars were stolen, what time, and how many. It was your job to mark them on the map and see if any of them were like the others. He was getting frustrated with how little the team could find on the electric wielding supe who was jacking cars, and you wanted to help out as much as you could. In a few days you were going to go to the auto shops in the same area to see if anyone heard anything about him.

Best case scenario someone would give you a lead, worst case scenario you were back to square one.

You lean down over the table, making the first mark on the map where the initial carjacking took place. It was at the top of the map which meant that you were practically laying on top of the table to reach.

The door to the apartment behind you opened but you didn’t think about it, too absorbed in making the correct tick mark.

"Don't stop on my account Doll." You hear Ben's low rumble break through the silence of the apartment.

You fight the urge to audibly groan when you realize that he's back from Jersey and here to make your life a living hell.

You stand up and turn around to face him. He’s wearing his Soldier Boy suit, standing inside the front door and looking just as handsome as he always does, as much as you hate to admit that. He's got some soot smeared just under his left eye, and the left sleeve of his suit is singed, but other than that he looks okay.

“I thought you wouldn’t be back for at least another hour-“ You begin to say, but Ben interrupts.

“I missed you Petals.” He smirks wider, setting his shield down against the base of the kitchen counter. “You and that perfect ass of yours.”

“Where is everyone else?”

“Fuck if I know. After I bagged the supe I didn’t ask questions.” He shrugs moving into the kitchen to pour himself a drink.

You roll your eyes and turn back to the map laying on the table, making another tick with the red marker in your hand where a car was stolen, but avoid bending over the table. “So which supe did you go after? The electric guy?”

“No this girl had fire shit coming out of her hands.”

"Oh guess you've got a new girlfriend, huh Gramps? Though I will say you definitely have a type. First Countess and now-"

"Jealous?" Ben responds from right next to you.

You weren’t expecting him to be so close, so close in fact that you could practically feel the heat of his skin through the air between the two of you from where he leans over the table looking at the map. It immediately reminds you of this morning when he pinned you to the counter, how his body felt pressed against yours, and how his gaze seemed to hold you in place. His eyes really were beautiful, more green than you'd ever seen anyone have, but you were biased because your favorite color was green for obvious reasons.

“You’re doing it again Sweetheart.” Ben smirks, his eyes shifting to where you pretend to study the map with a newfound fascination.

Don't look at him. Don't look at him. Don't look at him.

"Doing what?" You ask making another tick on the map as you go down the list Butcher made last night when you were researching.

"Thinking about fucking me." Ben says.

"No I'm not." You reply tapping the map with your red pen.

"You're a terrible liar doll. It's what I love about you." He laughs, but then takes a sip from his glass. "Um." Ben pauses. "How was your day?" Ben says it slowly, awkwardly, like it's difficult for him.

"What?" You turn to look at him, surprised.

"How was your day?" He repeats. Ben's green eyes are shining in the soft light coming from the lamps lit around the apartment, his dark hair softly curling around the back of his ears. Again you're struck by how normal he looks. Because despite wearing his supe suit, Ben looks relaxed, calm, sipping from the amber liquid in the glass like he belongs here and not forty years ago.

"Why are you asking me that?"

You were confused. Ben had never asked you about your day never seemed to care about how you were. You remember earlier when Ben asked if you would be at the apartment later, like he genuinely wanted to know what you were doing.

This is weird.

Ben shrugs.

"It was okay." You say slowly, narrowing your eyes in suspicion. "I fixed a shipment of African Violets-"

"African what?"

"African Violets." You answer. "It's a flowering plant, has fuzzy leaves. We always sell out of them. I have some in the windows at my apartment."

"The purple ones?" Ben interrupts.

He noticed that?

"Yeah." You blink in surprise. "And I got coffee with Annie."

Where she mocked me endlessly for kissing you and liking it.

"Did Hughie go with you two? Kinda seems like he doesn't do much without her say so." Ben laughs at his own joke, the ice in his glass clinking against the sides as he tilts it back to catch the last few drops. "Poor bastard's pussy whipped."

You can't help, but snort. You knew how Annie seemed to have a bit of a hold on Hughie, but where Ben saw Hughie as being "pussy whipped" you saw Hughie as being in love with Annie and willing to do things for her.

"No he didn't come with us and I think that he'd disagree and say that he loves Annie. When you were with Countess didn't you guys do anything together?"

"We did lots of things together." Ben's eyes darken slightly. "Things I wouldn't mind showing you."

You shake your head at him and nudge his shoulder. "Come on. You didn't go on dates or anything?"

You were probably crossing a border by asking Ben about Countess. You'd never asked him about her before, had heard about how the relationship exploded, LITERALLY.

Not to mention she was probably the closest to love that Ben had ever come. Maybe you were just curious, curious if Ben had actually cared about her, if he'd actually had feelings or if it had been a lie.

Ben hesitates for a second. "Why do you care?"

"Just making conversation." You look back down at the map noting the streets that run within the circle of carjackings.

It can't be a coincidence given how many auto shops there are within this circle. Someone has to know what’s been going on.

He hesitates and you wonder if that’s because it’s painful to talk about her or painful for him to open up. "Once or twice." Ben says finally. "We didn't really do that."

"Oh."

"We went to premieres and fucked a lot." Ben doesn't seem that disappointed by it, as if he thinks that is what a healthy relationship should be.

Didn't need to know that. What else did I expect? He said that he wasn't into emotions earlier today of course he doesn't care about that. He's so confusing. He told Hughie that he loved her and that he wanted to have kids with her, how is that born from going to premieres and fucking? Kinda feels like you'd need to spend more time together and have deeper conversations for that to happen right? You know what? I'm not gonna judge his relationship, maybe they had a great connection or whatever.

You think about your only serious relationship which was 7 months with your high school boyfriend Newton. You thought that you loved him, and then he broke your heart. But Newton and you had done more than go on one or two dates, it had been a relationship, you had depended on him, told him things about yourself that you didn't tell anyone else.

"How about you?" Ben's fingers trace one of the roads along the map.

"How about me what?" You put another 'x' over another place where there was another carjacking.

"Have you ever been in a relationship or have you just been waiting around for Jake to fuck you?"

"I don't want him to fuck me-"

"Sorry. You want him to make love to you." Ben says make love like it's a curse word.

"You're not making me want to share anything about my life with you."

"Come on Petals, I shared my deepest darkest secrets with you." He nudges you with his elbow.

"I wouldn’t say that you telling me that you and Countess fucked and went to a premiere together is your 'deepest darkest secrets.'" You make air quotes with your free hand. "But, I’ve only had one serious relationship and it was in high school."

"And?" Ben presses

"It was 7 months lasted just until he went to college. What else do you want me to tell you?"

"Why did it end?" Ben pours himself a new glass of whiskey.

"Why does that matter?"

"Come on doll."

"I-" You bite the inside of your cheek in contemplation. I can't believe I'm about to say this. "He wasn't a supe and when I finally told him that I was a supe he didn't react appropriately and I locked him in a tree." You make another tick on the map.

"You locked the fucker in a tree?" Ben snorts into his glass.

"Yep."

"Why?"

"Because he asked me if I could shapeshift and made a few comments about my body." You say it quietly more to the map than to Ben.

Ben's hand gently comes under your chin turning your face towards him. He looks pissed, his green eyes dark as he gazes down at you. "What did he say about your body?" Ben's voice is more of a growl than anything else.

His touch was gentle, almost caring, and he’d never tried to do that before.

"Nothing worth repeating-"

"Tell me." Ben breathes. "Please."

"Just that I could lose a few pounds and make myself a little more busty."

Ben doesn’t move. His jaw clenches tightly, muscles tensed, eyes hardening. “He said that to you?”

You nod because you’re not sure what to say. Ben was acting different all over again.

“Fuck him. He’s wrong.” Ben says, voice tight. “He’s an insignificant asshole who didn’t understand how to speak to a woman and who deserved to be locked in a tree. Hell, if I had been there I would have beat him with a tree.”

“I’m not exactly sure you know how to speak to a woman either Ben.” You crack a smile remembering every time that Ben had made an inappropriate comment to you.

“Well I’d never call a woman fat. And he must have been blind because you have the most perfect body-“

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes at him, but all he does is grin.

Ben stands there for a minute, still holding on to your chin, his skin burning through yours where the two of you are touching. Your eyes shift down to his lips for a millisecond thinking about how soft they were last night and Ben clocks the movement.

You wonder if he wants to kiss you as much as you want to kiss him. If he's remembering the kiss you shared with him last night, if it felt as good for him as it did for you, because it couldn't have been just you.

You hated seeing this side of Ben because it constantly gave you whiplash.

Was he a jerk or was he actually deeper than you thought and he locked it all underneath the macho bullshit?

You pull back, letting his hand fall from your chin to continue working on the map, but can’t fight the way you miss his touch against your skin.

An awkward silence follows and you keep looking at the list that Butcher gave you to avoid looking at Ben, going down the list with the marker checking them off. Because you knew if you looked at him again you would definitely try to kiss him and after what he just said to you, you really wanted to.

Deep down you wonder if that was him trying to connect with you, trying to not be such a jerk or if he was changing tactics to try and get you to sleep with him, just like when he remembered how much you liked ABBA.

There's no way that he actually pays that much attention to me, that he actually cares enough, right?

Finally you ask. "How was your day?" It comes out hesitant, as if you can't really form the words. Honestly it was weird to ask him something so mundane, without it being sarcastic. Saying anything was weird after the moment the two of you just shared.

"Better now that I got to see you doll." Ben catches your eye with a wide smirk, slipping into old habits.

Why do I even try to-

"It was okay." He follows up with a shrug. "Firey bitch got a few hits in."

You glance over at where his suit is singed over his left arm, and then raise your eyes to the soot smeared under his left eye, wondering if it actually burned his skin. "Are you okay?"

Sometimes it was easy to forget that he was almost indestructible. And after all the tapes that you'd seen of Ben being tortured in Russia, you did hate it when he got hurt. He didn’t deserve that, not after what he'd been through.

"I'm a little harder to roast alive, but I like that you worry about me." Ben leans further towards you, so close that his breath tickles the right side of your neck.

"I'm not worried about you." You turn to glare at him.

"You know when you lie you get this little scrunch right here." Ben's finger gently touches the space between your eyebrows making your face turn bright red. "It's cute."

"Don't touch me."

“I think you like it when I touch you.”

“No I don’t.”

I do.

“Then why does your heart start beating a little faster when I do?” Ben smirks as if he thinks he’s caught you.

“To pump all the hate faster through my body.” You snap. You move around the table to the other side to get further away from him and his stupid perfect face. “And if you couldn’t tell I’m working on something and I’d like to be done with it soon so I can go home.”

“You sure you don’t want to take a break? I’ve got to take a shower. Might help you relax a bit.”

“I’m perfectly relaxed!” You snap back, crushing the writing utensil in your hand.

Ben looks from the ruined red marker in your hand that drips ink down your skin and then back up at you. “Are you? Because that pen says otherwise.”

"Don’t you have anything else to do? Like get someone pregnant with Homelander 2.0?” You say, wiping the ink from the pen on an old rag that hangs from one of the chairs.

At the mention of his son, the expression on Ben's face turn murderous, and you can't help but feel a little guilty. It was a low blow. You hadn’t meant to bring him up, but Ben always had a way of getting under your skin worse than anyone else. Ben never talked about him or brought him up in conversation. You knew why. Ben might not have said it aloud, but you saw how he acted whenever his son was brought up in conversation, how he seemed just a little more tense than usual and almost a little more quiet. You knew that he was hurt by what had happened even if he didn’t want to admit it.

You figured that finding out that he had a son that was made in a lab without his permission was enough of a slap in the face, not to mention the whole thing about Homelander being the replacement for him and being the reason why his team was "allowed" to stab him in the back and send him to Russia in the first place.

Fuck.

"I didn't mean that Ben. I'm sorry." You say touching his wrist before you can stop yourself. As much as you didn't get along with him, he didn't deserve to be reminded of something like that.

"Why the fuck should I care?" Ben yanks his wrist back from you, his tone harsher, no longer teasing. The humor is gone from his eyes and the guilt builds in your chest as you look up at him.

"Because I know that you're still a little upset about everything that happened with Vought and Homelander and-"

"Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?" Ben spits moving around the table to tower over you.

It's the first time you'd ever seen him really mad at you, the only other time was when you met for the first time and he tried to rip you in half, but got a face full of tree branch instead, the night Homelander finally got put on ice.

"I'm not some fucking pussy that talks about their feelings or someone who gives a fuck about anyone else." He continues, eyes blazing. "I don't give a fuck about feelings or emotions or any of that shit. So do me a favor Sweetheart, don't put me on a fucking white horse, don't romanticize me, and don't turn me into something I'm not. Because the only thing that I want from any woman is to fuck them. Don’t forget it." Ben pushes past you to go to his room, slamming the door so hard the entire apartment shakes.

Well that went well.

By the time you finish the map and make a complete list of all the auto shops contained within the large circle you marked on the map when you connected where the car jackings were happening, everyone was back and Ben was gone.

He had left about thirty minutes after he yelled at you, didn't look in your direction once as he stomped out the door of the apartment wearing his signature leather jacket and dark t-shirt jeans combo.

You assumed he had a tinder date or he was just trying to get away from all the noise. Bagging the supe had definitely boosted morale. Even Butcher seemed less moody than usual, the dark cloud that hung over him dissipating for a few hours while everyone laughed and ate greasy pizza.

But despite the happy atmosphere in the apartment, you couldn’t help but think of Ben. Yes he yelled at you, but you shouldn't have brought up Homelander. It wasn't your business and Ben might have tried to cover up what he was feeling with his usual angry, loud, and sexually forward advances, but you could see that he did have emotions, he just tried to hide them.

He just needs to drop the bullshit macho attitude.

You didn’t think that it was weak for a man to show his emotions, if anything you thought that it showed emotional maturity and it was nice to meet a man who was actually open about what he was feeling rather than keeping it locked away and repressed.

Sometimes you thought you could see the man that Ben was, when everything was quiet and it was the two of you, but then he'd make a pass at you or revert back into whatever the hell kind of person he was a few hours ago when he yelled at you for apologizing.

For APOLOGIZING of all things.

You walked back to your apartment quickly and quietly, taking note of the place that is overgrown with weeds where you had fought the muggers last night. The bodies were gone now and you wondered if they were at the hospital or in prison. The blood stains on the ground where Ben beat the man were still on the pavement, and again you thought whether or not the man was alive.

You doubted it.

When you round the corner and approach your apartment building you notice that someone is sitting on the front steps, but you don’t pay any attention to it, you just continue to walk forward.

“Hey Petals.” Ben leans back on the steps smoking a blunt. His hair is more tousled than usual as if someone has run their fingers through it and you assume that the reason why he left earlier is because he had a “date.”

You watch the way the thick darkened strands lay on his head, admiring how it looks in the light that comes from the street lights that line the sidewalk. You were trying not think about how it would feel to brush the strands back from his face, to twist your fingers in his hair.

No. Not thinking about that right now.

“What are you doing here Gramps?” You cross your arms over your chest and use his nickname to offset the annoyance you feel when he calls you 'Petals.'

“Well I left some clothes here this morning and thought I’d come up to get them.”

“I can just bring them to the apartment-“

“You could.” He interrupts, taking a hit from the joint. “But I didn’t want to put you out.”

“How chivalrous of you, but aren't you the guy who forced me to let him crash on my couch yesterday?”

“Well I could have slept in the bed with you, but you were so adamant about me ‘respecting your boundaries.’”

"Thanks." You force a smile. "Fine, you can come up for two minutes-"

"If you make it 10, I promise I'll make it worth your while." Ben's lips pull into a mischievous smirk around the blunt perched between his lips.

You roll your eyes and pass him as you go up the concrete steps, feeling his gaze on your ass the whole time.

When you finally get up to your apartment Bean greets you at the door, purring loudly and rubbing against your ankles. You stoop down to pet him, running your fingers through his thick gray fur.

“Hey buddy. You missed me huh?” Bean purrs louder and pushes his neck into your fingertips to signal you to keep scratching him.

Ben walks past you to the couch where his clothes are waiting but instead of picking them up, he sits down and grabs the tv remote before propping his feet up on your coffee table.

“What are you doing?” You look up at him.

“One of my old films is playing tonight. Thought you’d want to watch it.” The tip of the blunt burns bright red like a beacon in your apartment.

“No. The only thing I want is for you to leave.”

Ben huffs out a cloud of smoke. “Look I know you like me-“

“I don’t.”

“You do.” He smiles. “So why can’t I stay here?”

“Because this is my apartment!”

“I can pay half the rent if you want me to.”

“It’s not about the money-“

“Then why?”

“Because this is my home! This is where I come to get away from people. This is where I come to decompress when you piss me off! And I don’t want you to live here because you’re a huge dick, stuffed full of macho shit, who keeps trying to sleep with me!” You shout, standing from the ground to plant your hands on your hips.

Ben only smiles as if you've complimented him. "Come on, was last night all that bad? I didn't bother you-"

"Because all we did was go to bed, if you stay here, that’s you 24/7. I need a place to get away from you." You emphasize again.

"Your bedroom isn't far enough away?"

"Nope."

"Come on Petals. I'm not so bad. At least I'm nice to look at." He smiles wider.

"You're not making me want to let you stay here."

Bean saunters over and begins to rub himself on Ben's ankles, purring loudly like the traitor he is. "The cat wants me to stay." Ben quips looking up at you while he scratches Bean under his chin.

"The cat doesn't get a say." You cross your arms over your chest. “And why do you want to stay here anyway? You’ve got tons of money! You don’t exactly need a roommate. And you certainly don’t need to live back at the apartment with Butcher and the team.”

Ben frowns for a minute as if what he’s about to say next is difficult. “I just-“ He sighs. “I don’t want to live alone okay?”

“What?” You blink in shock. It was the last thing you were expecting him to say.

“The lab and all that shit-" Ben looks away from you and takes a hit from the joint. "It- fuck." He mutters it more to himself than to you, eyes leveled at the hardwood floors.

It was the first time you'd seen him look a little bit vulnerable, surprising since he'd yelled at you a few hours ago when you'd accused him of having feelings. The truth was you felt bad for Ben. He was all alone, didn't have anyone left, his old boss literally took his genetic material and made a monster, and he was stranded in a world that he didn't know anything about. And maybe he didn't want to admit it, but maybe Ben was lonely. Which made the whole bed hopping thing make sense.

You examine his posture, notice how he still won't look at you, and how he almost seems to be ashamed that he admitted that.

“I’m just not sure it’s a good idea for us to live together.” You say quietly.

“Why? Because you think I’m going to try something while you’re sleeping?” Ben looks up at you suddenly angry. “Do you really think that I’d do something like that? I mean I’m a lot of things Petals but a fucking rapist isn’t one of them.”

“No I don’t think you’d do that Ben.” It was the truth, Ben might be obnoxious and inappropriate at times, but you didn’t believe that he would ever force you to do something you didn’t want to do.

“Then why?”

“Because we don’t get along. You’re-“ You wave your hand up and down at him.

Yes I know that gesturing to all of him isn't an answer, but maybe I'm trying my best.

“I don’t know what that means.” Ben raises his eyebrows as if trying to solve the secrets of the universe.

You sigh, blowing out a breath. "I just don’t think we’re a good fit for roommates.”

“Because?”

“You’re loud, and you always have those women with you. You smoke and drink and you put your feet on my furniture! Not to mention you don’t really seem to like plants all that much-“ You gesture with your hand to the room covered in plants in different stages of growth.

“I like plants.”

“Uh-huh? What plants?”

“What?”

“What kind of plants do you like?”

Ben blinks for a second. “You’re fucking crazy.”

“That’s another thing! We drive each other crazy Gramps. I don’t think this is a good idea. Not to mention you wouldn’t have a room, you’d be out here on the couch.”

I mean did he want to sleep on that couch? It was sort of comfortable, but not live on forever comfortable.

“It’s not a bad couch?” Ben says it like a question.

“I got it free from a guy with a foot fetish, Ben. It’s a bad couch. I just-“ You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. “You really want to live here that badly?”

“It's quieter here than it is at the other apartment."

“Nothing about Mike’s singing in the morning is quiet.” You crack a smile for the first time since you saw him sitting on your front step.

“It’s not so bad. There was this hero in the 70’s who could super screech. Fucking blew out my eardrums one time.” Ben shrugs. “Plus I don’t want you to miss me.”

Your smile drops into a frown. "I wouldn't miss you."

"I think you would doll."

You stand there for another minute considering what it would be like for him to live here.

I can't believe that I'm considering this. That would mean that he would be a pain in my ass 24/7. Him drinking, smoking, and doing God knows what on my couch. And why does he want to live on the couch anyway? It sucks. He could live anywhere he wanted and yet he wants to live here with me? Kinda feels like there's another reason for this.

"If I say yes there are some ground rules." You bite the inside of your cheek, rocking back on your heels.

"Like?"

"No sex."

Ben rolls his eyes. "I don't know why you're so against you and me-" He begins to say, but you interrupt him.

"I'm talking about you. You’re not allowed to bring any of your harem into my apartment."

“Want me all for yourself huh Petals?” Ben smirks stretching his hands back behind his head in a way that makes the end of his shirt pulls up enough for you to see the sliver of skin just at the top of his jeans and a peak of his muscular abdomen.

Keep it together, it’s just skin.

You frown at him until Ben finally sighs.

"Wouldn't it be our apartment if I lived here?" He raises an eyebrow.

"No women." You say firmly.

“Fine.”

“No going in my room under any circumstances.” You point down the darkened hallway as if he didn't know where it was.

“But what if-“

“No going in my room under any circumstances!” You repeat.

Ben mutters something under his breath.

“I’m sorry I didn’t catch that.”

“I said okay.” He grouses.

"And no killing my plants." You look at the ones growing on the coffee table where they could be easily pushed off by his large feet, narrowing your eyes.

“What if it’s an accident?”

“Too bad. And how do you accidentally kill a plant?”

“I don’t know there’s a fuck ton of them in here! I could step on one or trip. Not to mention in the shower-“ He begins to shout.

“It’s you that wants to live here! And if you want to, you have to follow my rules.”

“You really are a bossy little thing. Didn’t think you’d be into domination.” Ben cocks his head to the side examining you.

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“Because you’re so damn guarded. It’s like trying to get into the U.S Mint.”

That made you pause. He wants to know more about me? What?

Bean purrs louder and brushes up against your legs as if asking your permission for Ben to live there.

This is insane. Why here? Couldn’t he go off and live with Legend or something?

“Are you sure you couldn’t just live with Legend? Y’all seem to get along better-“

Ben shudders. “I never want to live with him again. I stayed over at his house a few nights one time and walked in on him naked and covered in cool whip.”

“I don’t think you have the right to kink shame other people-“

“He was alone Petals.”

“What?”

“There was no one else there.”

“Okay yeah that’s weird.” You snort.

“Then again if I walked in on you covered in cool whip I think it would be a nice surprise.” Ben winks at you as he takes another hit from his blunt.

“Keep dreaming Gramps.”

“Oh I see it in my dreams all the time.” He tilts his head to the side, his eyes tracing the curves of your body.

You sigh exasperated. On one hand you felt bad for him and were kind of flattered that he was willing to confess that he didn’t want to live alone to you. And on the other hand you didn’t want him to live with you because you knew he would drive you to the brink of insanity. And you were already close enough to that.

“Fine.”

“Fine like you’re going to pull some cool whip out of the freezer?” Ben perks up.

“No. Fine as in you can live here and pay rent. But, if you break any of the rules or if you start driving me more insane than usual, I reserve the right to kick you out on your ass.”

“Can I make a counter offer?”

“Nope.”

Ben sighs mulling it over, before he stands from the couch and holds out his hand towards you. “Deal.”

You take it hesitantly. Sometimes you weren’t used to how warm Ben was. You figured that it was because of the nuclear radiation, but you didn’t mind it. In fact, you kind of liked it. Plants and cold didn’t mix and you noticed that you didn’t do well in the cold either, which meant that Ben’s body temperature almost seemed to soothe you.

And you noticing how warm he was again lead back to the memory of him pinning you against the counter earlier, how warm his body was when it curved around you, how he dipped his head down towards yours, how he-

I’ve got to get this under control. You grit your teeth together to avoid the strawberry bush on top of the refrigerator to go back into full bloom.

“Well now that this is all sorted out, I’m going to go to bed.” You let go of his hand and try to step around him, but Ben blocks you.

“Come on roomie, watch a movie with me. This is a good one.” Ben nods his head back to the tv, where the opening credits have started to play.

You’d never seen this film before, but wondered why Ben was so adamant about you watching a movie with him. You’d seen most of his others and hadn’t been impressed with his acting skills. You assumed he kept getting roles because of who he was.

What? Does he think that watching a film with him in it will make me sleep with him? I wonder if he does that on his Tinder dates, gets them all hot and bothered with his old films and… I am not thinking about this right now.

“I don’t watch much tv.” You lie, eyes shifting back to the dark hallway and the solace of your bedroom. In your bedroom you couldn't make the mistake of kissing Ben, in there you could only fantasize about it.

“There’s that adorable scrunch.” Ben coos poking his finger directly between your eyebrows, signaling that he knows you lied.

“Fine.” You sigh, swatting away his hand. “I’ll watch the stupid movie. But can I change first?”

“Sure.”

You vanish down the hallway and into your room, looking around at the familiar objects inside. You take in a soothing breath, feeling the energy from the plants in the room sink into your bones and take away your anxiety and nervous energy. You gently touch the petals of a honeysuckle on your chest of drawers to perk it up, the happy yellow blooms making you smile.

I don’t have to go back out there. I can just hide in here forever.

It seemed like a good plan, but apart of you felt guilty, because Ben was asking you to do something that was normal with him instead of asking you to sleep with him.

Maybe he’s trying to have a sort of friendship. Maybe I should be supportive of that and-

“If you’re debating whether or not to come out of your room naked, the answer is yes.” Ben shouts from the living room. "I can check the freezer for cool whip for you."

Never mind.

When you finally come out of your bedroom you’re wearing a pair of your softest sweatpants and a maroon t-shirt with a picture of a potted plant on the front, toting your latest crochet project- a black cardigan with small white flowers the size of the tip of your pinky that you were making for Annie's birthday that was coming up in a month.

Before you hadn't minded that the only place to sit in your living room was the couch. Annie and you had spent many nights sitting on it drinking wine and watching ridiculous movies, but now you wished that you had tried to shove another armchair into your living room, because the only place for you to sit was beside Ben.

Ben, who now had shrugged out of his jacket and was looking much too good for someone wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He grins when he sees you and pats the cushion next to him.

"Come on baby, I don't bite." His grin turns wolfish. "Unless you ask me to."

You shake your head, but sit down beside him, bringing your legs up underneath you and place the cardigan on your lap before finding the cold metal of the crochet hook in the bundle. Ben's thigh is almost touching yours, just an inch of space between the two of you, but you can still feel the warmth of his body in the space.

"What the fuck is that?" Ben zeroes in on the project in your lap.

"I'm making a sweater for Annie's birthday. It's next month." You don't bother looking up at him, instead you try to find the stitch where you left off.

"And you call me old." Ben laughs.

"Keep talking Gramps and I'm gonna make you a pretty pink hat with big yellow flowers, tie it to your head while you're sleeping, take a photo, and make it your profile picture on Tinder."

"You've seen my pictures on Tinder?" Ben leans towards you and wiggles his eyebrows. "Were you fantasizing about me Petals?"

"Have you ever had a filter or did it get thrown away when you got the Douchebag iOS 8 upgrade?" You ask beginning to work down the row of stitches.

"I have no idea what that means." Ben frowns in confusion.

"Ask Hughie. Now be quiet I'm trying to watch the movie."

Ben chuckles and leans back on the sofa.

The movie was better than the others you'd seen. Ben was playing a man who was surviving in an apocalyptic world following the fallout of nuclear war that turned everyone into mutated creatures. It was broken up by flashbacks to a perfect world where Ben was in the military and had the perfect nuclear family.

There was something about seeing him in the flashbacks with the family that made something stir in your chest. Seeing him so gentle, playing with his kids, sitting at the breakfast table with his wife- it reminded you of how Ben acted with you sometimes, when he acted calmer and less like the macho asshole he was around Butcher and the rest of the team.

It made you think about what Hughie said that Ben said about having a few kids with Countess.

He’d probably be a good dad.

You think to yourself finishing the row and starting the next one, the bright blue metal crochet hook weaving the yarn together.

That must have been painful, to find out that she never loved him. I wonder if he waited for her to come get him everyday.

A part of your heart broke for him despite how much he annoyed you. You couldn’t imagine someone you loved letting you down like that, leaving you behind and not coming back.

It would be like me waiting for Annie each day and then find out that our friendship didn't mean anything to her.

You could see Ben glancing over at you every few minutes as if gauging how much you liked the movie, and it was hard not to smile.

“What?” You ask, threading your hook.

“Are you paying attention?”

“Yes.”

“Do you like it?”

“Huh?” You look up from your crochet at him. You weren’t expecting him to ask you that. “Um yeah. I like this one. I can't believe they got Charleton Heston to star in this with you." You say watching Ben and Heston on the screen. Heston was playing another survivor who was leading what seemed to be the last group of survivors in New York. Ben's character had just discovered them living in the sewers and was happy to learn that he wasn’t the last man on earth. “You like Chuck Petals?”

“My dad did. We used to watch all his films, but we never watched this one.” You look back down at your crochet, smoothly working down the row. The rhythmic motion of the hook and the yarn is serene and calming. It’s why you started in the first place, because after a long day it was the only thing that lowered your anxiety.

You hadn’t thought about your father in years, hadn’t tried to watch one of the films he loved so much in ages, sometimes it was too painful to think about your parents, hard to think about what happened to them.

“What was he like?” Ben asks.

“Charleston Heston? I hate to break it to you Gramps, but if you’ve forgotten what he was like and you were in a movie with him I’m pretty sure that’s a sign of Alzheimer’s.” You reply without looking up.

“Your old man.” Ben rolls his eyes.

“Oh.” You bite the inside of your cheek. “He was a dad.” You say it hoping that Ben won't press you for more answers.

“And?”

“Why are you asking me that?” You insert the hook into the sweater, not looking up at Ben.

“Humor me.”

“I don’t really want to talk about him.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t like to.”

“Why not?"

“Because I don’t!" You shout, shoulders tensing. "Why? Do you like talking about your dad?”

Ben’s mouth dips down into a frown. “Not really.”

An awkward silence grows between the two of you, broken only by the dialogue between Ben and Heston on the screen.

“My parents died when I was 12.” You whisper, continuing down the row of stitches until you get to the end and flip the sweater around. "I don't like talking about it."

Ben presses his lips into a tight line. “I’m sorry.”

“I’d say it’s okay, but it’s really not.” You begin the next row of stitches, not looking up at Ben. You hadn't talked about your parents with anyone since you were in a relationship with Newton. Annie of course knew, she'd been there with you the whole time, through the funeral, through the aftermath when you had horrible nightmares, through the fallout with your brother when he vanished for a month and didn't seem the same when he came back, and she always made sure that you were okay. Annie was more than your best friend, she was family.

Another silence builds as the two of you watch the movie continue. Heston had just revealed that it was his fault that the nuclear fallout took place and that he was secretly a Nazi. You were sure that there was going to be an epic fight scene within the next few minutes.

“My mom died when I was young too.” Ben murmurs still looking at the screen, barely audible over the music as it begins to swell.

You stop crocheting to look at him. “I’m sorry.”

He nods once, not looking at you, taking another hit from his blunt.

And as you sit there examining him, you wondered if Ben, despite everything he said and everything he did, if he was just as human as you were.

A/N: I realize that this might be becoming a lot of domestic fluff and soft Ben and I'm not sorry. 😂

As always thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist please let me know! :)

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