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millervrse · 4 months ago

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A SECOND CHANCE ! joel miller x reader

summary: Joel was sent by Marlene to come find you and bring you to Saint Mary’s. You are the only human aside from Ellie Williams who has been bitten and not turned: You are the only way that a cure can be created where no blood is shed. But to do that, you’ll have to warm up to the hardass that is Joel goddamn Miller.

pairing: joel miller x afab!reader

warnings, notes: EVENTUAL 18+ smut, so minors dni, occurs after the plot of the first tlou, but before joel gets ellie out of saint mary’s, some canon facts are changed for the sake of this story, ENEMIES TO LOVERS! reader has a heavily established backstory that is to be explored throughout the series, game references (tess, the fireflies, sarah, the general plot of the game, etc). implied age gap. reader’s just as tough as joel, if not worse! warnings will change and be updated as the series progresses.

word count: 2.8k+

LYN SPEAKING! alright, hey! i’m lyn, and i’ve had this idea in the back of my mind for close to a year now (yes, a year) and baby FINALLY finished the first installment of this series i plan to work on based on it. i sincerely hope this is well received! if you want to know when i update this series, please let me know, and i will kindly tag you. also, if you have any ideas as to where this story can go, my inbox is wide open! alright now, buckle up and enjoy!

PART I: IMMUNE

“If there’s no way for you to do this where Ellie lives,” Joel said, a dark gruffness to his voice as the words leave his lips. “Then it ain’t happenin’. I swear it.”

Joel Miller and Ellie Williams had been through hell and back to deliver her to the Fireflies. People had died along the way, close to the pair or not, and sacrifices had been made for the greater good. But now, as they stood at the end of the line, Joel realized that there was no greater good, and that they hadn’t been to hell.

Because this was it.

Joel stood defensively before Marlene, the woman who was the reason this was happening in the first place. The Fireflies wanted to make a cure for the virus that had taken their world by surprise twenty years ago. One that would cure the infected of their curse, to bring them back to the human beings that they once were. But to do that, Joel would have to make the biggest sacrifice of them all.

Losing Ellie.

He couldn’t bear to lose a second daughter, not when he had already given his all to have her. To keep her. Not when he had already lost Sarah in his arms all those years ago. No, no, no. Sarah had been unfairly shot, unfairly killed, and Joel was powerless to help her.

That wouldn’t be the case with Ellie.

He stood in front of an unconscious Ellie now, laid out over a bed in the hospital he had delivered her to. He had managed his way in here by narrowly avoiding Firefly personnel. But just as he was about to flee, Marlene and several soldiers behind her had him cornered every which way.

“Joel—“ Marlene did her best. But Joel didn’t want to hear it.

“No,” he barked, gun trained on the brunette. It didn’t matter if this ended in flames. It didn’t matter if he died. If he was doing it for Ellie, then he’d do it again and again, in this life and the next. “If there is no scenario where this little girl survives, it is not, happening.”

There’s a pause, a look of delay in Marlene’s eyes as she looks at Joel. She debated. Should she tell him? Should she reveal a secret she had been holding back since he had taken this assignment nearly a year ago?

This was no time to hang back.

“There’s one.”

That, was the moment in time when Joel Miller learned about you.

A girl, who had also been bitten, and not turned. A girl, whose history Marlene refused to delve too deeply into. A girl, who could be the cure to the cure, where nobody died.

Where Ellie lived.

“Where do I find her?”

———————————————————————

That’s how he had gotten here.

A noise sounds from behind you as you're readying to go and hunt for food in your house in Vermont, alongside a brief patrol to make sure that no infected were lurking by. You’re quick to tense when the sound fills your ears, grabbing the crossbow that was on the counter near you, the one that you’d thankfully just loaded, and whipping around.

A man who looked much older than you stood in the doorframe. He was tall with tousled hair, a green, wrinkled shirt mirroring his gruff demeanor. Your gaze darkened at the sight. You hadn’t seen a human being in a millennia. Let alone one that you hated to admit, was handsome.

You didn’t let that deter you, however, raising your crossbow higher and aiming it at him.

"You've got five seconds to tell me what you're doing here,” your voice firmly rang out as you drew the bow. Thank God you’d always been a natural at aiming. “Or I'll put one between your eyes.”

The man put his hands up, though his face remained neutral as he stood in place, as if to show he wasn’t afraid of you. “Easy does it,” he rasped, his voice as gruff as he looked. “I’m not here to hurt’cha.”

“Then, leave,” you returned. “This doesn’t have to end in blood. And if you get any fucking closer, I promise you, it will.”

“Well, aren’t you a ray of sunshine,” the man said in jest, causing you to draw your arrow back more, a warning for him to watch his tone. A sigh escaped his lips as his shoulders tensed at the gesture, closing his eyes and opening them to meet yours. “Look. I was sent here to find you. Alright? I just need to talk.”

This wasn’t going to be easy for Joel, was it?

Your aim never wavered as you responded. Your first thought was what the fuck was he talking about, but the curse doesn’t make the cut as you answer. “Sent by who?”

A pause.

“Marlene.”

You tense.

“She said you’d know her.”

Oh, you fucking know her, alright. Who the fuck was this man and how the fuck did he know about you and Marlene? It’s impossible, you think. That was years ago. This man was lying.

Right?

“Marlene?” you scoffed, your voice shaking. “That’s bullshit. I haven’t spoken to Marlene in years, and she sure as hell wouldn’t be sending anyone to find me,” you return, the furrow already present in your eyebrows deepening, eyes drowning in suspicion. “Who are you, really?”

The man doesn’t move, instead keeping his arms raised like he’s some sort of peace offering. “The name’s Joel, Joel Miller, and I swear on my life that what I’m tellin’ you is true,” he said. When he took note of the apprehension in your expression, he lowered his voice, letting it relax into one that was meant to make you feel calm. “I’m not here to hurt you. Alright? Just let me explain.”

It didn’t help.

You wanted to shoot this man already, with every fiber of your being. Your trust issues were rattling like fireworks in your brain, telling you that he was a liar, that he was trying to get you vulnerable, catch you off guard. But against your better judgment, you nodded, hanging fire for him to go on.

"There's a, uh, little girl. Her name's Ellie. About a year ago, Marlene asked me and a friend o’mine to smuggle her out of Boston, where we were, in exchange for some guns. We agreed. But Marlene didn’t tell us why,” Joel began, sighing before going on. “Come to find out, little girl was infected, but the bite was three weeks old.”

A pause.

“She was immune.”

You tense again, like you had been over and over again since Joel had walked into your house. That word, that fucking word. That word that made your blood run cold. Made your head spin. Made horrid memories rush to the front of your brain.

Immune.

You raised your eyebrows at Joel in disbelief of the three words that had just fled his lips. “That’s impossible,” you said. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” he returned a little too quickly. “I was thinkin’ the same way you are. Ready to kill her right there and then when I found out. Thought Marlene set us up, knew it was only a matter of time before she’d turn and catch us by surprise. But the little girl, Ellie, wasn’t lyin.”

You grimace. A fucking little girl. You didn’t even want to ask how old she was.

Because if this was going where you thought it was, then your heart was going to ache a whole lot more.

“Our journey had its ups and downs. We had to reroute over and over again. Fireflies can be pretty damn hard to find these days. But we ended up finding out that most of the ones who were remaining, were in Utah, holed up in some medical center. Ready to make a cure.”

Joel was about to go on, keep explaining. But he didn’t have to.

You cut him off.

“I’ve heard this one before,” you laughed, but it wasn’t one of amusement, let alone humorous at all. It was one of disbelief, because how in the fuck had the universe spared you that day, just to bring it back to your feet? A scoff escapes your lips, and you sigh, pushing your tongue into your cheek before answering. “Saint Mary’s, isn’t it?”

Joel furrowed his eyebrows. “How’d-” he said in confusion, wondering if he had accidentally let it slip a few minutes ago in his hasty battle to keep an arrow out of his brain. “How’d you know?”

It’s your turn to be confused. If Marlene had really sent this man all this way to come find you, you figured she wouldn’t have spared him the details on the true nature of your connection, or lack thereof, to Marlene. “Are you kidding me? I’ve lived this,” you say, a bit of malice behind your words as you raise your bow. “And if you think I’m going to go through that again, you better think fucking twice,” you warned.

Joel scoffed, undeterred by your threatened show of violence. He had seen scarier in his over twenty years in the apocalypse, and he was sure that if you wanted to shoot him, which you were more than capable of doing, you would have done it by now. "Little lady, I am not asking you too, alright? There's more to it."

Your expression doesn’t get any more welcoming, much to Joel’s annoyance. “Then you better get to talking, because I’m dying for an excuse to shoot you. Pun intended.”

Killing a bloater is easier than suppressing an eye roll at your words.

"Look, that girl and her bite, Marlene thinks that the head surgeon over at the Fireflies could fix up a cure. A cure for mankind. But she can’t undergo the surgery alone, not unless, unless—”

You finish for him.

“Not unless she dies.”

Joel nods, his feelings too grim to ask how you know that. He was sure that there’d be lots to uncover about you, that is, if you agreed to come back to Utah alongside him. “Right. And Marlene said, that if I found you, there’s a chance you could undergo the surgery with Ellie. And she’d survive.”

You take his words in, mulling them over in your head. The survivor in you was screaming to not let your feelings take hold. That no matter how desperate this man was for you to come with him, you would have to decline. But your conscious, the moral part of you that somehow persevered no matter how cruel this world had been to you, was bellowing. It wasn’t fair, what was happening to that little girl. It wasn’t fair that she would have to die to fix a world that was arguable beyond fixing.

But then again, what had happened to you was unfair too. And so was this unexpected arrival.

“You’re asking me to leave the comfort of my own home, travel across the damn country, go off with a man I don’t fucking know, all for a goddamn chance?” you asked. There was no violence behind your words this time. Just disbelief, incredulousness. “Who the fuck do you think I am?”

Joel never lowered his hands as he spoke. “Look, I know you’re uncertain, and I would be too. But this girl, Ellie, she—” he paused, doing his best to maintain his composure. “I just can’t lose her, okay? I can’t.”

Now your face relaxes, if only a little bit. You can see the raw and vulnerable look in Joel’s eyes, the gloss to his brown eyes that shines in the dim light of your house.

“You’ve grown attached to this girl, haven’t you?”

Joel Miller was a tough man. Feelings weren’t in the cards for him. Not since Tess, not since Sarah. And for the love of God, if he could turn them off and never feel again, it’s likely that he would. So for now, he doesn’t tell you how much Ellie really means to him, returning to the cold approach he took on the world before he met her. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess I have, not that that matters,” he dismisses. “Point is, lady, if I have to drag you out of here kickin' and screamin', I will. But I ain't leavin' without’cha."

You scoffed. "You don't even know my name."

Well, for some reason, you figured he didn’t. But just then, he said it, proving you wrong in seconds.

“Ain’t it?”

Don’tfeeldon’tfeeldon’tfeel.

You and this man were more alike than you knew.

Rolling your eyes, you speak up once again, pushing your feelings down into the gutter where they belong. “Let me tell you this, Miller. I gave up the hope a long time ago that there was anyone else out there like me, and so did Marlene. Why in the hell should I believe you?" you ask.

Joel parts his lips to speak, but words don’t come out. You were right. He had given you no reason to believe him, to trust him, and especially not, like you’d said, to leave the comfort of your own home and join him on his quest to save mankind, to save Ellie, if she was actually fucking real.

There’s a brief pause before he answers. "I don't know how else I can convince you. I can't, to be honest. But Ellie, she needs you. I can't let her die."

You paused for a second, allowing his words to sink in. God, you were apprehensive, but he, he was adamant. And the look in his eyes was tearing your survivalist ideologies to the ground.

"Saint Mary’s ain't close,” you say.

Joel’s eyes light up. It’s not a yes, but it’s hope. "I know,” he says. “I've got a car."

"A car?" you asked in shock. What more did this man have up his sleeve? You hadn't seen a working car in years. They weren’t easy to come by, and even if they were, gas was a major aspect of why nobody had cars anymore. Marlene and the Fireflies used to always have them, but because it’d been so long since you’d last seen her or a Firefly in general, you couldn't actually remember the last time you'd driven one.

"Yeah, it's a means of gettin’ around, kind of like-" Joel began. Annoyedly, you cut him off.

Did you really look that young?

"I know what a car is,” you said in annoyance. “Haven't seen one in years. You really have one?"

Joel decided to ignore your offended response, though it was hard to suppress a smirk at just how offended you’d gotten. "Yeah, I do. I told you, I'm not lyin'. Not about the car, not about Marlene, and not about Ellie. I promise.”

Promise.

You had it engraved in your brain that the word promise was a synonym for lie. It was just a kinder, less harsh way of putting it. But regardless, they were bullshit. Promises weren’t real. This wasn’t real. Joel wasn’t real.

You want to pinch your arm to make sure. Then you realize you’ve never had dreams this vivid.

You hated your face for the way it relaxed. You hated the fact that you could hear the genuineness in his tone, the converse of lies in his gruff demeanor. You hated the way your crossbow unconsciously lowered.

And you were going to hate Joel Miller for sure.

“You try anything, Miller—” you bark.

Joel’s eyes light up once again, and he can’t help the small smile that takes the corners of his lips. "You’ll put one between my eyes, I know. And I won’t, I promise.”

“So are you comin’ or what?”

"Not so fast," you said quickly, shaking your head. "Give me some time to pack, mull it over a little more. You owe me that."

Joel wanted to protest, just a little bit. But he refrained, nodded, and crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes, ma’am.”

Your eyes remained watchful, fixed on Joel as you walked backwards to the top floor.

There, in your bedroom, you think over what just happened. Were you really going to do this? Were you really going to risk the life you had created, all for a chance? Who the fuck were you right now, and what had you done with the tough woman you had always been?

You were about to let your morals cloud your judgment, traveling far and wide to save a little girl you didn’t know, alongside a man you were sure you were going to hate. You were about to throw away all you’d become, all you’d ever wanted to be since what went down with the Fireflies all those years ago. With Marlene.

God fucking damnit.

What the fuck had you gotten yourself into?

if you made it to the end of this, i really hope you liked it! please consider leaving a reblog, as they help my work immensely <3 kisses!

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lovebugism · 9 months ago

Note

I heard you’d like some requests, don’t mind if I do 👹 I could’ve sent 62 but I restrained myself:

*grumbling* "Some people are waaay too touchy."

if it inspires you, please!

emmy (upsidedownwithsteve) 🧡

@upsidedownwithsteve, my love! it was an honor to write for you! i hope you like it :D — eddie munson's a big, jealous grump at the bar (established relationship, fluff, 1.1k)

Eddie’s having a piss-poor night. His beer’s lukewarm, the music’s too loud, you’re too far away, and Steve Harrington hasn’t shut up in ten minutes.

He could hardly stand the dumbass everyone used to call The King, but even less when he’s got a golden arm thrown over your shoulder. And, yeah, it’s all friendly or whatever, but that hardly quells the wildfire burning in his chest. “What right does he have to touch you like this? Fucking none,” grumbles the wild-haired boy’s inner conscience.

But then again, no one does. Not even him.

“Think I should go buy her a drink?” Steve asks you over the blaring pop music. His honey eyes are pointed across the bar at a girl way out of his league. His slick mouth is far too close to your ear.

You roll your eyes. “I think you should be a gentleman and feel things out with her first—”

“Oh, I’m gonna feel things out with her, alright,” Steve scoffs, bringing the lip of the beer bottle to his mouth.

“—Before jumping into a one-night stand you only halfway recover from.”

The two of you turn to glare at each other, then. Gazes unwavering. Noses mere inches apart. Eddie makes a faint grumbly noise of protest about it, but the boyish sound of disgust goes unheard under the music.

But when I see you hanging about with anyone—

It’s not unusual to see me cry; I wanna die!

Someone’s been plugging the same goddamn Tom Jones song into the jukebox for six minutes now. Eddie feels like he might as well be in hell at this rate. It’d hurt less, he figures.

You and Steve seem to communicate telepathically until he inevitably caves first. He huffs until his puffed-out chest deflates, along with his stupid ego. He doesn’t know how you always seem to be right about everything. He fucking hates it, actually.

“Right. Whatever. I’m gonna go find Robin. She’s probably lost,” Steve deadpans with a sigh as he slides out from the booth. “Want anything?”

“Can you get me—”

“A spicy margarita?” he finishes for you — like he can read your fucking mind, Eddie grouses bitterly to himself. He hates that someone else knows you as well as he does.

You squint. “How’d you know?”

‘Cause it’s your favorite thing to drink after shots, Eddie answers in his head.

“Because we just had tequila shots. And you always want a spicy margarita after tequila shots,” Steve deadpans, then chuckles when your face scrunches. He pokes the very apple of your cheek and turns to the pouty boy across from you. “What about you, Eds? Want another beer while I’m up?”

Eddie shakes his head with a flat face, then takes a sip of his warm and hardly-sipped beer.

“Next round’s on you two, alright? I’m not your fucking boyfriend— you’re not getting free beers off me all night,” Steve chides lightheartedly before disappearing into the crowd.

You only smile to yourself as he goes. You know he’ll buy the whole damn bar out if you ask him to. ‘Cause that’s what best friends are for and all. Especially when they’re rich.

A groan bubbles in Eddie’s throat when the upbeat song starts all over again. It’s not unusual to be loved by anyone! the man croons. He drops his head to his elbow and bellows an annoyed moan. His chestnut curls spread wild over his shoulders.

You hide your grin behind your fist. “What’s wrong, Eds?”

“Nothin’,” he monotones, face still hidden.

“You haven’t said a word in twenty minutes.”

“Well, Steve hasn’t shut up in about thirty, so…” he retorts and lifts his heavy head, faking a smile as he tilts his flushed cheek to his shoulder. “Getting you two idiots into a room is fuckin’ crazy, you know that, right? Neither of you knows when to stop talking.”

Your nose scrunches. “Well, that’s what usually happens when you have friends, Eddie. You have conversations.”

“You sayin’ I don’t have friends, sweetheart?” he questions with narrowed, chocolate eyes.

“No,” you answer, grinning all pretty. “I’m sayin’ you’re jealous for no reason.”

His face falls flat at having been found out so quickly. Though he figures he wasn’t exactly being discreet about the whole thing. He grumbles and shifts awkwardly in his seat, feeling too seen beneath your unwavering stare.

“Some people are just way too touchy,” he grouses with a boyish sneer on his features, trying desperately to hide his pout behind the amber bottle in his fist. He takes another sip of the lukewarm liquid and averts his gaze.

Your beam widens until it brightens the dim bar. “You’re the one sitting all the way over there, you loon,” you tell him with a soft giggle that squints the edges of your eyes.

Eddie perks at the invitation. His doe eyes flit from the sticky table to your twinkling eyes. He’s been waiting on the offer all night, too much of a coward to ask you himself, and it shows on his suddenly hopeful features.

You nod your head to the empty spot beside you. “Get over here before Steve comes back and starts yapping again.”

Eddie rises with a newfound life, rounding the table and sliding into the squeaky booth beside you. He clutches his beer with his left hand and throws his right around your shoulder. His arm rests over the back of the booth where Steve’s once was, holding you like he’s been dying to all night.

“Better?” you grin.

He nods wordlessly, wild curls tickling your jaw. He takes another sip to hide his quiet smile when you press your lips to the flushed apple of his cheek.

Steve returns then, with your spicy margarita in one hand and Robin’s wrist in the other. She stumbles in behind him and sways in place ahead of the table — freckled cheeks rosy, ocean eyes glassy.

“Have fun?” you wonder with a teasing lilt.

“I saw something shiny on the way back from the bathroom,” the brunette girl confesses in tiny slurs. “Then I get lost…”

You nod sympathetically. “We figured.”

Steve nudges her ahead of him until Robin gets the hint. She slinks gracelessly into the booth. The boy squints as he slides you your drink. “You’re in my seat,” he observes, as if it weren’t blatantly obvious.

Eddie shrugs. “…Yeah?”

“You could’ve just asked to switch,” he scoffs and slips in beside Robin.

“I was fine,” the wild-haired boy insists, then nods his head over to you. “She’s the one that wanted me to move.”

And even though that’s not exactly what happened, you nod anyway. “Yeah. I got too tired of sitting next to you, Stevie,” you tease the boy ahead of you. “Your cologne’s too strong— you smell like a fucking high school boys’ locker room.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you had a ton of experience in those back in the day, didn’t you?” Steve scoffs.

Your eyes narrow. “Dick.”

“Jesus,” Eddie grumbles like a storm cloud. “Stop flirting.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble

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edenesth · 1 month ago

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Until Death Claims Us

Pairing: vampire!Hongjoong x human!reader (+ a bit of boyfriend!Seonghwa x girlfriend!reader)

AU: vampire au

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: You were a fool to believe you could save him. You should have heeded everyone's warnings to run, but now you found yourself in need of saving—from him, the very embodiment of the devil.

Genre: angst, horror

Rating: Mature (M)

Trigger Warnings: violence, implied sexual assault, emotional abuse, kidnapping, gore and blood, coercion, isolation (being trapped/cut off from loved ones), substance use, death, self-harm, suicidal thoughts

A/N: Happy Halloween, folks! This contains dark themes and is not my typical cutesy little romance fic (been feeling violent lately), you've been warned.

ATEEZ MASTERLIST

"You're being such a good girl today," he taunted, pulling back slightly from your neck. The skin was bruised and ruptured from his relentless biting, a trail of blood staining the silk of your robes. "I wasn't expecting this—especially after the little show we put on for your poor loverboy yesterday. What was his name again? Park Seonghwa, wasn't it?"

You lay still beneath him, your gaze fixed on the familiar ceiling you'd come to know all too well during each struggle, each time he took you against your will.

"It's over, Hongjoong," you murmured, and his grin only widened as he licked his bloody fangs, mocking. "Over? For whom? You know you're mine, don't you? I'm not letting you go. Not now, not ever, my pet."

A small smile crossed your lips. "Exactly. I'm counting on that. I don't plan on leaving without you either. I won't let you hurt or threaten the people I love again—my boyfriend, my brother, my best friend..."

His eyes narrowed at your words. "What are you—" But before he could finish, the poison you'd ingested began to take hold, creeping through him bit by bit. He gasped, his hand clutching his heart. "Wh-what have you done?"

You chuckled bitterly, a trickle of blood trailing from your nose. "Wolfsbane and monkshood, enough to kill us both within the hour."

He gasped at your words. Vampires were immune to many things, but the herbs you'd named were among the deadliest known to any living thing—even to his kind. His claws flew to your neck, tightening as he growled, "Are you out of your goddamned mind, woman?!"

You smirked humourlessly. "Go ahead. End me now. It'd be a mercy."

Realising the force of his grip on your throat, he released you quickly, a shaky hand brushing your face as he noticed the blood trickling from your nose. If the poison was already taking a toll on him, your mortal body must be suffering a thousand times worse. "Do you really hate me this much?"

You shook your head, pulling your face away from his touch, but he only grasped you again, forcing you to meet his gaze—just as forceful as ever. That was the Kim Hongjoong you knew. "You're joking, right? You took me from my family, my friends, my… my lover, and forced me to stay by your side, to be fed on and used as you pleased. What else could I feel for you?"

He furrowed his brows, the pain in his chest intensifying as he struggled to keep his focus. "But, darling, I did it because I love you. I've told you over and over. If you weren't so stubborn, you could've been my queen. I was going to turn you—"

Tears of disgust welled up in your eyes as memories of this endless nightmare resurfaced. Weeks, months… you'd lost track. Maybe your family would know how long you'd been gone. "Love? You call this love? You don't torture someone you claim to love. You don't even know what that word means, you monster!"

Regret.

Immense, suffocating regret was all you felt. It had consumed you from the moment you'd fallen into Hongjoong's trap, ensnared by his cunning words and dark allure.

It hadn't always been this way.

⸸

"Ow!" you yelped, clutching your scraped knee as you eased yourself into a sitting position, recovering from the clumsy fall. You should have watched where you were going, but your mind had been lost in thought, still sulking over your cancelled plans. Your boyfriend had last-minute work obligations, leaving you disappointed after you'd looked forward to your date all day. Worse still, both your brother and best friend had their own commitments, so you were left to walk home alone, wishing Seonghwa were there to pick you up.

"Hey there, you alright?" a warm voice interrupted, and you looked up to see a stranger standing beside you, his hand extended politely, yet without touching.

And that was how you met him, on a chilly autumn evening. Kim Hongjoong had been so kind, so gentle, as you spilt your frustrations to him. He listened with a soft smile, guiding you to a nearby bus stop, supporting you with a careful hold, and tending to your wound with a small bandage. Before leaving, he draped his coat around your shoulders, leaving you with a comforting warmth.

How sweet of him.

What you didn't know was that as he walked away from you that night, his soft smile faded, replaced by a dark scowl. His fists clenched at his sides, and he cursed himself under his breath. He had planned to drain you right there on that empty street; it was the sweet scent of your blood that had drawn him to you in the first place. But the moment he saw you—eyes wide, vulnerable, and tangled in frustration—something inside him shifted, and he had done something he'd never done before: he spared his prey.

Had it been any other woman, she would have lost her life in an instant. It went against his nature to let a meal walk away unharmed. But you had been different somehow, your innocence tugging at some long-buried part of him he'd rather keep forgotten. "Pathetic," he muttered, disgusted with himself, before casting a glance over his shoulder, watching you as you disappeared from sight, his coat still wrapped around you.

"Another time," he murmured to himself, eyes narrowing with resolve. If he saw you again, he wouldn't hesitate.

Another time, human.

"Babe? What's this?" your beloved's voice called out, and an instant smile lit up your face as you turned to greet him that evening. "Hwa, you're home!" But as you tried to rush to him, a sharp pang in your knee held you back, and his eyes quickly caught the slight wince. In an instant, he was at your side, Hongjoong's coat discarded on the chair beside you.

"What happened? Are you okay?" he asked, worry furrowing his brow as he knelt beside you, inspecting the bandage.

You laughed sheepishly. "I may or may not have tripped over my own foot. But a kind stranger helped me out—he's the one who gave me his coat." You nodded toward the garment that Seonghwa had been eyeing earlier. "He found me by the side of the road, got me to a bus stop, and made sure I was alright before he left."

Guilt flashed across your boyfriend's face as he cupped your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin. "I'm so sorry I had to cancel, baby. It's my fault you were out there alone. Does it still hurt?"

You shook your head, leaning into his touch. "Not anymore. You're here now, and that's all that matters."

His expression softened as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Well, I'm just relieved someone was there to help. Good thing that man found you."

At the time, you nodded in agreement, warmth spreading through you at the thought. But if you had known then what you knew now, you would have wept, realising that this was only the beginning of a nightmare you could never have anticipated.

⸸

Falling into his orbit had been so easy.

"It's you!" you beamed as you stepped out of your workplace, your face lighting up at the sight of the kind stranger who had offered his coat and helped you just days before. The man smiled, his expression warm and charming as he nodded.

"It is me. I was just passing by and noticed you finishing up your shift," he said. "Heading home now?"

You nodded, stepping closer. "I am! And I actually have your coat all cleaned and ready, but I didn't bring it with me today. I can return it to you next time you pass by."

He chuckled, his gaze unwavering. "Why wait? I'll walk you home now, and you can give it to me there."

Maybe you should have been more cautious about leading a stranger to your doorstep. But he was your saviour, after all—surely you could trust him… right? If only you had thought twice back then, if only.

"Would you like to come in for a bit? It's a little chilly outside; let me just grab your coat real quick," you said, hurrying inside, leaving the door open behind you as you went to find it. Unhurried, the vampire stepped in, his eyes alight with satisfaction. Your scent filled the space, sweet and intoxicating. He took a slow breath, biting back the urge to sink his teeth into you right then. How awfully trusting you were—it made him want to draw this out, savouring the game.

He wandered into your living room, pausing at the wall lined with photos. His gaze darkened slightly as he took in the images of you with another man, holding you close, kissing you in some. Ah, yes, the lover. His lips twisted in a faint sneer, though when you returned with his coat folded neatly in your arms, he met you with a polite smile.

"Let me guess," he said smoothly, pointing to a photo, "this must be the lucky guy who had to cancel on you that night?"

You glanced at the picture and nodded, smiling. "That's him—my boyfriend. He was really grateful you were there to help me out."

Hongjoong's grin widened ever so slightly, amusement flashing in his eyes. "Grateful, is he?" he murmured, his voice silky, almost too smooth.

But you missed the glint of slyness in his tone, sending him off with a wave and a warm smile. Later that night, the vampire clutched the coat to his face, breathing in your scent with a low growl, his grip tightening. He hadn't realised until now how intoxicating the pull was, but he knew one thing for sure: this coat would never leave his grasp again—not until he had you for himself.

Once again, he had spared you.

But this time, it wasn't mercy—it was control. He'd see just how long you would continue to trust him, let him in. And then, he thought with a twisted smirk, he would show you exactly who he was as he drained every drop from you.

If you thought that would be the last time you'd see him, you were sorely mistaken. Almost every evening after that, he would appear outside the cafe just as your shift ended, leaning against the lamppost as though he'd been waiting.

"Want some company on the way home?" he'd ask, his voice always gentle, words wrapped in warmth as he mentioned it was on his way anyway.

And so, you'd let him walk beside you, night after night. He always seemed to know just what to say, as though he could read your mind. Every word was perfectly timed, his soft laughter like music that drew you in before you even realised it. He began to open up about his life, weaving tales of heartbreak and loneliness that tugged at your heart, his voice so sincere that it was easy to believe him.

"They say life is easier with someone who truly understands you," he'd murmur, eyes dark and searching as he glanced your way. He'd mention how it felt to be isolated, misunderstood—and somehow, it felt like he was talking to you, like he was a lost soul just waiting for the right person to come along.

And he'd pause, his gaze softening. "It's rare to find someone who… just gets it, you know?"

You'd nod, heart aching, wanting so badly to be that someone, to fill that void you thought you saw in him.

You had no idea then that he was slowly slipping under your skin, blurring the lines of trust and intuition until you found yourself more invested in him than you ever thought possible. That he wasn't seeking connection or friendship—he was weaving a web, each thread perfectly placed. And all along, his hunger lay just beneath the surface, patiently waiting for the right moment to reveal itself.

If only you had known what it meant to be the "friend" of a vampire.

⸸

Then there was that night in the park.

You'd found him sitting alone on a bench, his figure slouched, his head bowed as though the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. His expression was distant, empty, as he stared down at his hands—hands that seemed unblemished but, if only you'd known, had just left a trail of lives snuffed out too soon. No human could have sensed it, but his hunger for you was unmatched, something primal that no other blood could satisfy, not even the hapless souls he'd claimed just hours before.

But you, blissfully unaware of the darkness around him, only saw someone you thought of as a friend. Someone you might save, if you showed him kindness. Your heart ached at the sight, and you quietly sat beside him, reaching out to take his hand. His fingers were cool against yours, a chill that settled into your skin, but you brushed it off as a sign of the evening's autumn air.

"Everything alright, my friend?" you asked, your voice soft, filled with worry you didn't understand.

He didn't even glance up, yet he squeezed your hand lightly, as though your presence had grounded him. "I… I think I might've done something I'm not exactly proud of," he murmured, his voice trembling just enough to pull at your heart.

You sighed, your thumb tracing small circles on his hand, offering him a gentle squeeze without pressing him to share. "It's okay, Joong. I… I know your life hasn't been easy. Whatever it was, you probably had no choice." You gave him a small, reassuring smile. "Nobody's perfect. I just want you to know you'll always have a friend in me."

As you spoke, he finally looked at you, but there was a sharp glint in his eye, a brief, almost predatory gleam that flickered just for a moment. And though you noticed the faint trace of crimson near his collar, you dismissed it as a trick of the streetlight or perhaps a stain from a spill. Why would you have thought any differently?

What you didn't know was that every word, every gesture, was like fuel to his fire. He'd lured you in, time and again, feeding off your kindness, growing closer with each moment, all the while concealing what lay beneath that soft, gentle exterior. And you, too blinded by trust, saw only the broken soul he wanted you to see, never realising just how deeply you'd fallen into his hands.

If you'd known what he was hiding, you'd have run. But then, if he had his way, running wouldn't have saved you.

⸸

Regret. Deep, suffocating regret washed over you as you recalled how blindly you'd trusted a stranger you barely knew, dismissing every warning from those who loved you.

"Babe, I really don't have a good feeling about this guy you've been talking to," Seonghwa murmured one evening, wrapping his arms around you from behind as you washed the dishes. "I know he helped you that night, but his actions lately…"

You'd bitten your lip, drying your hands before turning to embrace him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "I know it seems strange, Hwa, but he honestly just feels like someone who needs a friend. Maybe I'll introduce you two someday."

You had brushed off his concerns, convincing yourself you were just being overly cautious. How could you have known then what lurked beneath Hongjoong's warm smile and attentive gaze? The way he listened, the kindness in his eyes—it all felt genuine. But now, those memories were shadowed by the haze of your own naivety.

Thinking back to Seonghwa's concerned eyes and protective arms, the ache in your chest deepened. He had only wanted to shield you, to keep you safe, but you'd shrugged off his worries like scattered autumn leaves that night in the park. How could you have ignored the instincts of those who loved you?

You remembered your brother's warning too. "He knows you have a boyfriend, right? Then why is he still so…" he sighed, catching the frown on your face. "Just be careful around him, noona." His brow had been furrowed, his voice tinged with the protectiveness you’d come to expect from him.

Even your best friend had weighed in. "Gurl, he's hot, single, and lonely? Maybe he could use someone like me as a distraction!" she teased, laughing before her face turned serious. "But honestly, your brother and Hwa are right. You don't know him that well. Stranger danger, babe. You shouldn't be so trusting."

At the time, you'd laughed it all off, buoyed by a sense of invincibility in your own trust and optimism. But now, standing face-to-face with the darkness beneath Hongjoong's charm, the weight of every ignored warning settled heavily on your conscience. He'd played you, twisted your kindness into his own weapon, feeding on your good intentions to serve his own dark needs. If only you had listened.

⸸

"I find myself in a dire situation and in need of your help. If your words are sincere and your care for me as genuine as you've claimed, then please, come to me at once."

You should have heeded their warnings on that fateful day. As you picked up the note outside the cafe, your name scrawled across it, you noticed the handwriting—almost ancient, as if penned with a quill. It was signed by Hongjoong and carried an urgent request for you to come to his residence immediately.

As you read, questions flooded your mind.

First, why had he never exchanged numbers with you? Did he even own a phone? You realise now you've never seen him with one. His communication felt so… archaic. Perhaps he was simply a fan of old-fashioned ways, though the thought brought little comfort.

Then there was the urgency—what could he need you for so desperately? If he'd come all the way to leave the note, why not just speak to you? It struck you then that he'd never entered the cafe, never bought a drink, or even lingered to chat.

And the address… secluded in the middle of nowhere. Why would he live so far from everyone? A shadow of doubt tugged at you, urging you to reach out for advice from those who cared about you. But against your better judgement, you let the image of his pleading, dark eyes linger in your mind. Before you knew it, you were on your way, heart racing with anticipation and dread.

Each step felt heavier than the last, the echoes of your loved ones' warnings circling through your mind. Yet you pushed them aside, drawn by an inexplicable pull to see him again. It was as if you were stepping toward a dark abyss, its presence invisible yet pressing close. The setting sun cast long shadows, stretching as if to hold you back. But the illusion of connection, once so warm and real, propelled you forward.

As you reached his residence—a grand, ancient mansion, the air turned colder, a chill that crept down your spine. You paused at the door, dread settling in your stomach as if the very walls whispered the warnings you'd ignored. Was this a terrible mistake? You took a deep breath, pushed aside your hesitation, and knocked, the sound seeming to dissolve into the gathering twilight.

"You're here, at last, my dear," he murmured, voice dripping with sarcastic satisfaction. He turned, and in an instant, the false warmth vanished, twisting into a grin that revealed razor-sharp fangs.

"I've been waiting. And I'm starving."

⸸

Has it been days... or weeks?

"Wh-what the hell are you doing...?" you choked out, pressing a trembling hand to your neck to staunch the blood trickling from the bite he'd left. You were sprawled across his bed, barely able to move, every ounce of strength drained from you. Above, he stood with your phone in hand, snapping photos of you with a twisted, relished focus—capturing every vulnerable angle as if he were savouring an art piece on display.

"Making a collection to send to your little boyfriend, of course," he said, tone laced with mockery.

Your heart plummeted at the mention of Seonghwa. "N-no..."

Hongjoong smirked, his eyes dark and cold. "Oh, don't worry, darling. He wouldn't dare interfere if he knew what was good for you. And you'll behave yourself too, won't you? Wouldn't want anything happening to your precious family and friends, after all."

It hit you then—the grim reality. Your life as you knew it was over. He was a centuries-old monster, a bloodthirsty fiend who had you completely at his mercy. You were a mortal trapped in his web, no longer a person but a mere vessel to sate his hunger and whims.

Escape was a fleeting dream; you were too weak, too vulnerable. But in the dark corners of your mind, one thought persisted—an escape of a different kind. If you could somehow slip from this existence, you might at least put an end to this misery. Yet a lingering fear held you back: Seonghwa, your family, your friends. Were they still out there, searching for you, hearts heavy with worry? The thought of them stepping into this nightmare in a desperate attempt to find you gnawed at your soul.

You could take any fate for yourself, but the idea of your loved ones in harm's way was a weight you couldn't bear. So you swallowed back the dread, praying that they would find peace, that they would move on, even if you couldn't.

⸸

"Smile, darling. Loverboy has come to see you."

You gasped, a weak cry escaping your lips as his weight pressed you deeper into the mattress. You could barely push back against him, every ounce of strength drained, yet you clung to the disbelief—he couldn't have brought Seonghwa here. Not to witness this, not to see you in this state, drugged and used as Hongjoong's plaything. It had to be another one of his twisted games.

But as you turned your head to the window, horror struck you. There, just outside, stood your boyfriend. His eyes were wide, a mix of shock and agony contorting his face as he registered the scene before him: his first love, his entire world, bare and broken beneath another's hands.

A strangled sob left you as you watched him stumble back, his gaze a shattered mess of disbelief and betrayal. And then, without another glance, he turned and fled. The monster above you let out a dark chuckle, pressing a bruising kiss to your lips before pulling back with a smug, twisted satisfaction.

"And there he goes," he murmured, the words dripping with poison. "That should do it—no more foolish rescue attempts, no more endless searching. Just you and me, my dear. Don't worry; I'll take care of you from now on."

You lay there, his words echoing in your mind, the last remnants of your heart breaking into pieces. Your tears spilt freely, soaking the pillow beneath you as the reality sank in. With your boyfriend now gone, the final shred of hope and sanity within you slipped away. Yet, beneath the ache, something sharper flickered to life—a resolve you hadn't known you could possess.

The emptiness left you with nothing to lose. Hongjoong thought he'd finally won, thought he had you in his grasp forever. But he didn't know the lengths you'd go to escape him, the price you were willing to pay.

As your tears dried, you knew—if this was to be your end, he was going down with you.

⸸

Staring down at the wolfsbane and monkshood you'd collected, carefully wrapped in a small piece of parchment, your hands trembled. This was it. Once you took them, there would be no going back—the amount you'd prepared was enough to kill a bloodsucker within an hour, let alone you, a mere mortal. You took a shaky breath, steeling yourself to swallow the bitter herbs.

But just as you brought the packet closer, footsteps echoed down the hall, deliberate and unhurried. Heart racing, you hurriedly tucked the packet beneath the bed, barely managing to slide it out of sight as Hongjoong sauntered into the room, his gaze settling on you with that ever-present glint of sadistic amusement.

"Aww, look at you," he purred, eyes narrowing with mock sympathy. "Missing loverboy already, hm?" He let the words linger, watching the tension twist in your expression. "I am sorry he might not return the sentiment. Not anymore. Maybe you should just focus on me, darling." He crawled onto the bed, his movements slow and taunting, each slithering inch bringing him closer until his familiar, bone-chilling embrace enveloped you once more. The kind of hold that wrapped around your very spirit, pulling you down like an anchor.

The image of Seonghwa's face, etched with horror, surfaced in your mind, and you bit your lip to keep from crying out. How could he have been forced to see you like this? Swallowing hard, you clenched your fists, determined not to give this monster the satisfaction of seeing your tears.

But his lips grazed your neck, chilling as they pressed over the bruised, unhealed bite marks that would likely never get the chance to heal. A shiver raced down your spine. The coldness of him… It was like every hope of escape was slipping further away.

"Joong…" you whispered, voice barely audible. You felt him freeze for a moment at the sound of his name, the way you'd once used it back when you'd believed his act. Back when you'd truly cared for him. The silence stretched, the flicker of tension you'd caught in him melting back into amusement.

"Before I came here... before all of this…" your voice cracked, but you forced yourself to continue, needing to see if there was even a fraction of humanity left in him. "Was there ever one moment where the side you showed me was sincere?"

His eyes darkened, amusement shifting into something almost unreadable. His expression stayed carefully composed, but his grip tightened, as though he sensed the question held more weight than he was prepared to deal with. For a moment, you thought you saw something there—guilt, maybe, or regret? But it was gone in an instant, replaced by that cold, detached gaze.

"Oh, my poor, naive love," he murmured, voice soft but devoid of empathy. "Sincere? That side of me was whatever you wanted it to be. And it did its job beautifully, wouldn't you agree?" His lips curled into a smirk, as though he savoured the pain reflected in your eyes.

With that answer, a profound calm settled over you, solidifying the choice you'd been struggling with. He had no redemption. No humanity. And soon enough, he'd feel what it was like to be powerless, too. The herbs were just beneath the bed, waiting to release you both from this wretched game.

And it would be soon.

⸸

Your own recklessness had led you here; there was no one else to blame. And yet, the thought of Seonghwa tightened painfully around your heart. He had been everything—the one you imagined beside you in every future, the light in all your darkest moments. Now, he was left only with the haunting image of you powerless, taken by the monster who loomed over you.

The vampire had turned your suffering into a twisted show, a grotesque performance designed to break every last bit of faith Seonghwa held for you. How could he possibly still love you after witnessing this? How could anyone?

But perhaps that was for the best. If it meant he'd let go of the desperate need to search for you, you could leave this world knowing no one would mourn your tainted existence. And with that bleak acceptance, your resolve crystallised. Hongjoong had unknowingly given you all the tools you needed, and you were finally ready to use them. The knowledge from his library, the herbs in his greenhouse—all his arrogance had left him exposed.

You'd consumed more than enough of the poison just before his feeding time, driven by a singular determination to end this—no more hesitation.

The venom surged through your veins, dizzying yet invigorating, each heartbeat counting down to your final moments—and his. You focused on that thought as his grip on you began to waver, his dominant presence starting to crumble as the poison took effect.

As your vision began to blur, clarity sharpened in your mind. This wasn't just an escape; it was vengeance. The thought fueled the last remnants of strength in your body.

"Do you feel that, Kim Hongjoong?" you whispered, forcing your voice to hold steady despite nausea clawing at you. "This is the end for you, and I'll die knowing you'll never hurt anyone else again."

He looked down at you, disbelief flickering into grim acceptance, and then, to your surprise, a small grin crept across his lips. He lay down beside you, fingers reaching out to entwine with yours. "You sly little fox… this is why I love you so much. No one else could have done this to me, no matter how they tried. At least we'll be together in the afterlife. I may be dying, but I'll die happy knowing I've won over Park Seonghwa."

The poison surged stronger with every heartbeat, each pulse dragging you deeper into the icy grip of darkness as the final remnants of your strength began to fade. "You're delusional, Kim. You'll have me... only until death claims us."

⸸

"No! No, it can't be!" Seonghwa's voice tore through the night, raw and desperate as he tried to break free from the arms restraining him. His screams cut the air, his cries echoing in the vast, empty silence that had settled around the mansion. But the police officers, your brother, your best friend—everyone held him back from reaching you… or what was left of you.

If only you could have held on just a moment longer. The sirens had drawn near, filling the air with the promise of help, of escape, but they'd come too late. Your boyfriend had done the only thing he could, knowing that a rash attempt to rescue you would have meant his death too. He'd left after seeing you one last time, shattering as he took in the horror of your suffering, knowing you'd endured all this while he searched tirelessly for you.

Now, at last, he was here, hands still reaching out for you, ready to bring you back into his arms—but all that was left was an empty, still form entwined in the lifeless arms of the very monster who'd stolen you from him. His sobs were relentless, tearing from his chest as he stumbled forward, pleading, his body wracked with the pain of a thousand what-ifs.

If only he had fought harder to keep you by his side. If only he hadn't cancelled that night. If only he'd never let you cross paths with Hongjoong. The blame—merciless, relentless—wrapped around him like a noose, each regret tightening its hold.

This ache would follow him, a cycle of blame and guilt that would haunt him for the rest of his life. He would never be the same.

I'll join you soon, my love.

This has got to be one of my personal favourites, I do love me some sadistic shit from time to time. Hope y'all enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it!

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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sauronsgirl · 4 months ago

Text

Distraction

Sergei Kravinoff x F!Reader

Warning: smut 18+

Your relationship with Sergei is not an easy one. He is stubborn, jealous and possessive. He made it clear from the beginning that you belong to him. But, it’s also obvious that he loves you very much. Sergei would never hurt you, not in a way you wouldn’t enjoy it. You love him will all of your heart.

Yes you have a lot of arguments but in the end it always finishes well. By that you mean hot and dirty make up sex. Sometimes you wonder how you’re not pregnant yet with how much you sleep together. For now though, neither of you wants to have kids. Sergei doesn’t want to be like his father and you’re not ready to be a mother.

Despite all of his flaws, he is caring. You share moments of happiness together and these are the best. You do have a complicated relationship, but you would never exchange it for anything in the world.

You are working in your home office when Sergei comes in. He looks pissed. Someone must have done something. You know what he does for a living and you know your boyfriend’s temperament.

-What happened my love? you ask getting up from behind your desk to greet him.

-I had a lead to find a man doing animal trafficking. I was following it until my goddamn father called. The person ran away and I lost his track. Fuck I hate my father. he growls.

You hug him, trying to soothe him even if you know how he is when he is angry. Only one thing will calm him down. He hugs you back but you feel him tensed.

-I know a way to make you forget about this… you say seductively and he understands immediately.

-Are you sure? Because I’m not going to be gentle. he warns you with darkening eyes.

-Use me Sergei. Let out your frustration on me. I can take it. I’m yours my love.

As soon as you finish your sentence he is kissing you. You moan as he pulls your head back by your hair, dominating the kiss. There is no tenderness, not that you mind. After a while he pulls away, eyes dark with lust.

-Take off your clothes. he orders with a tone that has you soaking wet.

You do as he says, blushing under his gaze as he looks you up and down. He makes a sound between a groan and a growl as he sees your beautiful naked body.

-Bend over the desk and spread your pretty legs for me. Show me your perfect cunt.

You bend over your desk, face on fire as you show him how wet you are for him. From only a kiss. Sergei growls in satisfaction then you hear him taking his clothes off. You feel the tip of his hard cock at your entrance. You moan at the contact and move your hips to take him in but he stops you.

-I’m in charge remember? You’ll take what I give you like my good little whore.

You should be ashamed that he calls you that, but it only turns you more on. And he knows that. Before you could say something, Sergei thrust into you with harsh movement of his hips. You moan in a mix of pain and pleasure. He starts moving, not giving you anytime to adjust to his size.

He slides in and out hard and fast, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. The feeling of his cock inside your dripping cunt is heavenly, you love when he uses you like this. Like a rag doll. Sergei grips your hips so hard it will leave bruises but you don’t care. You’re his. The desk is moving on the floor with the strength of his thrusts.

You can’t think. The only thing you feel is the pleasure you receive from him even he is only chasing his own release. Moans fall freely from your mouth as you feel your orgasm approaching. Sergei pulls your hair back with one hand, your back arching against him. The stinging sensation making you whimper in pleasure.

-Are you going to come my dirty little whore? he asks lustfully while moving faster.

-Yes…yes please can I come? you beg knowing he loves it when you do.

-Since you’ve asked so nicely…yes you may. Come for me love. says Sergei sliding a hand between the desk and your body to circle your clit.

You climax with a shout of his name, your pussy clenching hard around his dick. A couple of thrusts and he spills his release deep inside of you. He is breathing hard behind you and you are breathless and completely fucked out. You don’t trust your legs to walk. Sergei pulls out softly making you whine at the emptiness. He turns you around and use his shirt to clean the mess between your legs. He looks completely relaxed now.

-So…are you feeling better now? you ask smiling tiredly.

He chuckles then kisses you.

-Much better thank you love. You always know what to do to calm me down. I love you.

-I love you too Sergei. Could…do you think you could help me get to the bathroom please? I don’t think I can walk right now… you say blushing as he smirks proudly.

-I’ll carry you wherever you want sweetheart. Always. You’re mine.

As he picks you up bridal style, you cuddle against his chest thinking that being in a relationship with him, is the best thing that has ever happened to you.

My first Sergei Kravinoff fic :) hope you guys likes it

Tag: @tangerineboss @pretty-little-mind33 @moonlightspencie

#aaron taylor johnson #aaron taylor johnson x reader #kraven the hunter #sergei kravinoff #kraven the hunter x reader #sergei kravinoff x reader

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romanestuffsposts · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! I like your stucky x little stories. And I was wondering If I can make a request?

Maybe the reader got into trouble and the and bucky and Steve are extra mad at her and punish her. And when they come check in her, she avoids them for a long time, even if they aren’t mad anymore.

I like these sorts of stories of yours, but I feel like they get off to easy (in my opinion). So, maybe some extra angst for them cause I’m not the kind of kilter that forgive easily.

Hi there love! 💜

Yes I know some of you don’t like when it’s too much while others want to see more so don’t hesitate to ask! I’m here to write what you wanna see! ❤️

I hope you like how I wrote it, sweetie! <3

Enjoy <33

****

Warnings : snapping, argument, yelling, cries, punishment, apologise, making up, comfort, mad, pet name

Pairings : Daddies!Stucky ; Daddy!Bucky x Papa!Steve x Little!Reader

Summary : you just wanted to relax after a day inside

****

You just got out of work, it’s the end of the day and you’re surprisely still in a good mood. You were inside a little room the entire day and feel like you hadn’t seen the world today so you decide to walk through the parc on your way home.

It’ll take you more time to go home but at least you would’ve clear your mind in the nature.

You hadn’t saw the time passing as you sat on a bench to watch little ducks on the water in front of you. It’s been already two hours that you finished your work and you hadn’t said anything to anyone as to where you were.

You decide to cut your walk short and go back home, you have the rest of the week home so you’ll have lots of time to come to the parc.

Not too long after leaving the parc, you open the door and step inside of your house. You thought you’ll be greeted by the smell of food or at least your men but none of those are home apparently. You don’t see their shoes inside nor their coat so you assume they’re still at work or something.

You decide to go relax in a warm bath, you put in your favorite soap and don’t lose a time before stepping inside. You groan at the hot water that’s warming up your cold body.

You enjoy your bath for a long and when you get out, your Daddies still aren’t home. You decide to call Sam to ask if they’re almost finish with work and when this one answer the phone after the first ring, you hear relief in his voice

‘’You’re home ? Please tell me you’re home little bird ?’’ He asks. You frown and explain that it’s been an hour now that you’re home and you wanted to know if their work will take them times or if you could prepare dinner.

You don’t really understand what happened after, you just know that Sam screams at someone that you were home and then there were nobody behind the call anymore.

A few minutes later you hear the door opening violently and loud and quick steps on the ground. You watch as your Daddies run toward you and it doesn’t take long for them to wrap their arms around you and hold you tight against them.

Their heartbeats were really fast and they felt out of breath, what happened ?

Before you could even ask questions, your Daddy pulls back, keep an hold on your shoulders with his hands and stare down at you with many emotions in his eyes that you don’t understand

‘’Where the hell were you ?’’ His voice is harsh and it made you flinch, you didn’t noticed they were mad at you ‘’do you know what a phone is used for ?? It’s for when you’re going to be late at home. You text, call or send an email, I don’t fucking care but you tell us that you’ll be late’’ he practically yells now.

‘’You know how worry we were ?’’ Your Papa adds ‘’it’s been hours that we’re looking for you outside. We disturbed the entire city just because you can’t using your goddamn phone!’’

You open your mouth to talk but nothing comes out, you know what you want to say. You didn’t wanted to worry them, you just needed to be outside a little and got lost in time. You wanted to apologies because you know you’re in the wrong here but it’s like the words are stuck in your throat.

‘’Next time think less about yourself and text us so we don’t worry’’ your Daddy snaps making you tear up.

Were you selfish ?

You really did worry them but that was an accident. You didn’t mean to.

‘’Go to your room’’ your Daddy says, his voice is calm now but he sounds really disappointed and it made things worst.

‘’But Daddy I-‘’ he cuts you off with a harsh movement to melt you stop walking to him ‘’I said go to your room. Do you understand or do we have to explain how to go upstairs in silence like we have to taught you respect ?’’ He snaps again this time.

You swallow your pain and go upstairs, they watch you until you close your door.

You look around your room and shiver in fear, it’s been a few nights now that you don’t sleep here because one night you had a nightmare and you are scared to be in this room alone.

And he knew that but he still sent you here.

You had spent the evening and the night in your room. They brought you dinner but they didn’t even glance at you or dried your tears. They just give you your food, your water and they came to get it back.

Not even a good night kiss or a glance of reassurance. You had to fall asleep with the only comfort of the memories of the little bird singing in the parc earlier.

The next morning you woke up with a note on your nightstand, they had to go to work but they wrote that the punishment was over and that you did good. They said they loved you and that they’ll be back later.

Seeing this writing instead of hearing it from their mouths feel fake. It feels like they didn’t meant it. You throw away the paper and walk downstairs, a second note in the kitchen tells you that they left your favorite breakfast for you in the fridge. They tell you a second time that they loved you before signing.

You don’t touch the breakfast, you take a glass of water and go in the couch. You spent your whole day laying in the couch and thinking about yesterday. To make it short, you had a bad day.

You wanted to go outside but since how it ended up yesterday you decide to not take the risk.

After a few hours you hear the front door opening and closing. Before you can see them entering fully in the house you get up from the couch and run upstairs.

You know it’s your Daddies but you don’t wanna see them just yet. You need to show them that you’re still mad.

What hurt you the most is not the fact that they yelled at you, you understood that they were scared and worried and from all of their emotions mixed up together they ended up yelling but you knew they were more relieved than angry.

But what if something really happened to you ? What if you were lost or what if you were held something against your will ? What you needed wasn’t hearing scream, what you needed was comfort if that happened. They didn’t even asked.. that’s what hurt you the most.

You close the door shut and sit on your desk to keep drawing your draw. After some minutes you hear a knock on your door. You don’t answer which cause you to hear a second one ‘’sweetie ?’’

‘’No’’ you say loud enough for them to hear. You don’t hear anything after so you thought they left but after some second of silence they knock again ‘’please baby, can we talk ?’’

‘’no’’ you say again, going back to your drawing. You hear muffled talk and then nothing. You sigh in relief that they respect you by letting you alone like you asked.

You almost finish your drawing when it’s dinner time and you at the same time, you hear knock again ‘’sweetie ?’’ Your Papa gently says

‘’We- dinner is ready’’ he waits for a second to see if you’re gonna say something but when it’s silence, he talks again ‘’we made your favorite food’’

After minutes of nothing, he was going to leave even tho he doesn’t like the fact that you don’t wanna eat but he hears and sees the door of your room opening.

You don’t look at him nor speak to him, you walk past him and down the hallway. You make your way downstairs, followed by your Papa. Your Daddy is waiting on his seat and his eyes light up when he sees you, he thought you wouldn’t got out of your room but apparently you’re too hungry for that.

You do the same to him that you did to your Papa, you don’t give him attention. You grab your plate, put food in it and then go back upstairs to your room.

You know your Daddies don’t like it when you eat upstairs but today you don’t care. You thought they would’ve said something to you about it but you hear nothing.

After eating you lie in bed and close your eyes.

Gentle touch are felt on your scalp causing you to coming back to reality. It took you a moment but you finally opened your eyes.

You turn around and see your Daddies sitting on your bed. You turn back around as soon as you see them and get up from bed quickly.

You hear your Daddies standing up too as you approach the door ‘’wait please’’ the sad voice of your Daddy make you stop. You’re facing the door but you stopped walking.

‘’We’re sorry about yesterday’’ he says ‘’we were worried sick from the second we saw you weren’t at home and when we couldn’t find you we-‘’ he takes a shaky breath ‘’I thought my heart was ripping apart’’

You look down but keep your eyes wide open as you listen to them talking. "we shouldn't have yelled at you yesterday but we didn't thought about our reaction, we just let all out and i think we wanted you to understand how we felt."

"but it was in a bad way" your Papa adds after your Daddy "we should've said it in another way. We're sorry we went too far and yelled like that, we're really really sorry"

Nobody talk for some seconds but then you start to turn around, with tears in your eyes. They stand up and go to comfort you but stop because they don't know if they can come to you or not

"can we... can we hug you ?" your Daddy asks with an hesitant voice "please" your Papa adds.

You stroke your eyes causing the tears to fall and lift your arms up, nodding your head.

The next second, you feel two pairs of arms wrapping around you and you feel nothing else but the warmth of their bodies and the comfort they send to you.

"what were you doing before coming back home yesterday ?" Your Daddy asks as he stokes your hair.

"Parc. Watching bird" your mumble, as you snuggle closer into them.

"you want to go back to the parc tonight ? We can grab some bread to give to birds and ducks if we saw them" Your Papa proposes.

You sniff and nod your head, you wanted to go back there all day and maybe going back with them can be as relaxing a than going alone.

"Alright, let's get prepared then" Your Papa kisses your forehead and helps you standing up "we can even go take a breakfast outside, what do you say ?"

You nod your head and take their hands in yours to lead them toward your closet to get prepared. It'll be a great day, you're sure about that fact.

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dark-night-hero · 8 months ago

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Kozume Kenma woke up with the aggressive tapping of keyboard keys echoing in the room and maybe a very frustrated groan screams of curses. Causing him to stirr awake, turning to his side so he was facing your back which was playing on his computer. With his sight adjustint in the dark, he brush off a few strand of hair on his face before calling out your name.

"Sorry did I wake you up?" You spoke upon realizing he have been calling you for a while now, in return, in only hummed and gently sat up, back resting on his headboard. "What are you doing?" His voice was deeper than usual, probably due to the fact that he had just awoken up. Looking to his side to check on the time. "It's late." "Hmm, I'll just finish this and go to sleep-fuck!" You curse and roll your eyes as you have failed to do the fucking trial for the 15th time.

You felt like you are about to cry. You've been doing this anti-shogun test for the past half and hour and yet you're still stuck on the very same trial. Even after figuring out the patterns. You felt like you should just fucking cry and give up, quit this game for good that has been making you broke for quite some time now. Failing to do so in your 20th time. You felt like punching the computer screen when you felt your lover presence behind you.

"Sorry, let's just go to be-" "Here, this is how you do it." Placing his hand on top of yours that was holding the mouse, guiding your hands on the keyboard. He show you how it was done. And after a few minute have gone by, there you were with a smile on your face as you have finally finished the trials. "Oh my god! Finally!" You shout in delight, looking up with a smile on your face to your lover only to see him already looking at you with a small smile on his face, lost strand on his now shoulder length hair on his face, nevertheless. He look lovely.

You blink, reaching out to push back those lost strand of hair behind his ear before placing your lips upon his. "Thank you." You giggle, putting your attention back into the game where you logout quickly. Blinking, he smiles and never takes his eyes off you, "Welcome."

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2024°

: Little drabble I thought because for some fucking reason I cannot pass the fucking trial of that goddamn anti shogun in genshin and I'm about to loose my mind and cry for fucking real.

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cultofdixon · 1 year ago

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Handle with Care

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Witnessing something as scary as that…regardless of your feelings from before…you’ll need to be more gentle • ANGST/SFW/NSFW - Missionary / Hickeys / Grinding • TW: Violence / Anxiety / Minor Injuries

Requested by: Anon

I’ve witnessed a lot of stuff in my life…but this? Oh fuck me

It was a routine run for Alexandria. The two were asked to take a care and try and find anything in near by outdoor shopping centers…when they got in a bit of a pickle.

Y/N was going through one of the stores by herself checking for the usuals when a squatter came out of nowhere and instantly grabbed her. Resulting in her screaming out of initial contact. Thankfully her scream echoed into the next store over where Daryl was, and hearing such made him curse to himself knowing it was a bad idea to separate as he immediately made his way over to her.

The moment Daryl entered the store, he readied his crossbow to take the stranger out. But they were already pinning Y/N to the ground and the way the two were wrestling each other, the shot wasn’t clear. Which led him to drop his crossbow in a hurry and rush over to grab the person by the back of their shirt, practically tossing him into an isle away.

“Y/N are you—“ Daryl stopped himself when he noticed the cut on her cheek and the discarded knife that belonged to the stranger. He was seeing red.

Y/N was a bit taken back already by what happened to her, that when she noticed the stranger start to get up again she retracted and Daryl immediately threw a few punches at the stranger. But it didn’t stop. It was starting to become…a horror movie with the amount of blood that ended up on Daryl’s person.

I should’ve been with her

This never would’ve happened —-it’s just a cut

So much shit has happened, I can’t let anything more happen to her

I won’t let anything happen to her—-even if—

“Daryl!” Her voice cut though his thoughts as he realized that the stranger was dead and on his hands.

The archer dropped the corpse and pulled himself away. He checked his person seeing all the blood and only the worse was brought to his mind. I’m scaring her. Daryl frowns looking over to Y/N after his moment away in his own mind noticing the bit of a shock written on her face. It was a bit unreadable hence why his interpretation was that she feared him in that very moment.

But boy was he wrong.

That was hot—-he literally killed somebody

That shouldn’t have been so fucking hot—-RIGHT

Goddamn it—-HES LOOKING AT YOU

Y/N quickly met his worried expression as she scrambled a bit, only enough to press her back against a few shelves taking a deep breath.

“Uh. You’ve got uh” she gestured to herself where she implied the blood on Daryl’s person.

“Right…yeah uh. Imma clean up before I clean that up to see if it needs stitches” He did the same she did, pointing to his cheek indicating her injury as she completely forgot about it.

“Oh uh I got—-“

“Just to double check. Let me uh. Get somethin’” Daryl left for a brief moment to clean himself up.

Leaving Y/N to audibly exhale, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks when she recalls what she witnessed and what she thought about such. She quickly hid her face in her hands, only to wince to the cut.

“It’ll need stitches. But are you feeling alright? Your face is flushed” Denise asks as she finished cleaning up Y/N’s cut while she was in her own little world. “Y/N?”

Y/N still lost in her train of thought didn’t hear Denise and was immediately snapped out of it when the door to the infirmary opened revealing Daryl.

“How bad is it?”

“Just needs a few stitches but I’m afraid of a head injury if she’s not answering my questions”

As the archer bring himself close resulting in Y/N retracting a bit. Daryl frowns stopping himself.

“Y/N?”

“Yes. Sorry. I heard her. Just. Got lost in my…” Y/N quickly looked into Daryl’s worry filled gaze and covered her face in her hands when her face flushed again. But of course she winced again from the minor pain. “Thoughts” she pulls her hands away turning away from Daryl to give Denise the access she needs to her wound.

“Right…well I’ve got this, Daryl.” Denise reassures. “Won’t take us long”

“Alright. Well, uh. Y/N come find me later?”

But she never did. Y/N started avoiding Daryl because she didn’t want to say how what he did make her feel. Since it was more than a bit of a sexual awakening toward the archer. Something more rooted got pulled out of her that she simply didn’t want to address right away.

Which led Daryl continuing to think the worse.

“Hey, come on a run with me and Glenn”

“Sorry—“ Y/N ran into the door to the Grimes’ residence as she quickly scrambled for the handle. “Watching Jude. Next time?” She asks and didn’t wait for a response as she quickly enters the house.

Even Glenn thought that was a bit weird. But didn’t question it until the two were alone scavenging through an empty neighborhood.

“Did you do something to Y/N?”

“No, I did somethin’ in front of her” Daryl says without thinking as Glenn gave him a confused almost frightened look without being given context right away. “Nothin’…well. I don’t know what’s goin’ on in yer head! I killed somebody in front of ‘er and I scared her”

“So you’ve been trying to talk to her about it?”

“Not even. Or just not yet. I’ve been tryin’ to just…be with her. I don’t know what to do” Daryl sighs following Glenn into a house and doing the usual rummage through.

“You think she’s triggered from the wolves attack? And that you just. Triggered an unpleasant memory? Cuz from what I’ve been told about that invasion, they would kill everyone on sight”

“Shit…So I could’ve hurt her further?” Daryl frowns, only to go into instant annoyance when Glenn shrugs. “You’re very helpful”

“I have a lot on my mind too, man.” Glenn opened a cabinet seeing if there was anything useful. “I would just talk to her. Not exactly corner her but at least somewhere where she feels safe”

The two returned home and Daryl knew Y/N was at the Grimes’s residence last, but when he checked and Carl noticed the archer walking past his open door.

“Dad relieved her of Jude a while ago. Should be back in Carol’s” of course he knows who Daryl was there for.

“Thanks kid”

“Yknow” Carl almost yelled out to get Daryl to stay a second. “I overheard her and Michonne talking. About you”

Daryl brought himself to the doorframe giving the young Grimes a confused look.

“Nothing sound bad if that’s what you’ve been worried about”

“Who says I was worried?”

“Y/N.” Carl sits back in his bed reading his comic book the best he could. “About her obviously. But since you’re already on your way to talk to her, you can get more out of her”

Y/N was in her room in Carol’s reading one of the many books that Daryl has found for her ever since he started doing runs at Alexandria. She was still thinking about that day and not in the way that you’d think of course. She heard the softest knock on the door and looked at her for a moment knowing she was only wearing a bralette and shorts.

Daryl waited for a while thinking she was ignoring him and was about to step away when she quickly opened the door fixing her shirt to finish covering herself. “Hey…you got a second?”

“Mhm. Yeah, come in” Y/N closes the door behind him. “What was it you—-“

“Are you afraid of me?”

“What?”

“Are—-“ Daryl sighs, sitting on the edge of her bed as she remains in front of him crossing her arms giving him a concerned look. “Are you afraid of me after what happened in the store the other day? I lost control…yeah but I’d never—“

“I know you’d never hurt me” Y/N finished for him, bringing herself to sit beside him gripping her knees. “I just. Didn’t know what to say what I really felt there. Because it was like… a bit inappropriate but also not?”

“You lost me there…” He laughs a bit as Y/N tried her best not to just blurt it out. So she tip toed around it…until he connected it for himself.

“Uhhhhh….it was kinda…alarming, yes. And…also hot?”

“Hot?”

“It was just. At first really scary how you let go on this guy…but then remembering you were defending me, just. Me!” Y/N laughs a bit to herself feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. “I just. Mm…never had someone that protective over me. It was nice…a lot more than nice but the words are kinda trapped in me a bit”

“I get that” Daryl assures her. “The words don’t always wanna leave” he subconsciously rubs his knee against hers as he brought his full attention to her. “I was really afraid that I scared yea away”

“You could never scare me away, D. What you did…only made me want you more” and that deceleration led a small moment of no words exchanged between the two…

Then Daryl suddenly presses his lips against hers as she instantly grabbed at his shirt for purchase. Y/N tugged at him gently bringing her back agaisnt the mattress as he followed suit carefully towering her on her bed. The first few kisses was soft and gentle, making sure the other wanted what the other wanted…once it was confirmed, Daryl didn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss as he used his legs to get in between hers as she didn’t hesitate to wrap hers around his torso lowering himself on her. Y/N carefully pushed him back parting the two so she could catch her breath.

“Wow…that uh escalated”

“Yea want me to stop?” Daryl smirks panting a bit himself.

“Fuck no” Y/N brought his face into her hands admiring the man on top of her for a moment before returning her lips on his.

When he pulled away once more, Daryl looked at her flushed state knowing he wants to go further and with the lustful look in her hooded gaze…she wants to as well…and before his mind could return to that doubtful state, he flinched at first contact of her soft hands before easing into her palms.

“If you’re not ready, it’s okay. We can take it as slow as you want” She reassures as he brought himself into her embrace kissing her once more.

“I want you, I’ve always wanted you” Daryl whispers pressing his forehead against hers, feeling her hands gently run through his hair and softly brush against the back of his neck. “I’m done waiting, sunshine”

As the archer brought his lips back to hers for a few kisses, soon bringing his lips to her cheek…being careful with the bandaged one before trailing his kisses down to her jawline and sucking a bit to leave his mark that only started the trail of hickeys from under her chin to her neck and a little bit of her collar bone that he gained access from pulling the collar of her shirt down a bit. Said action led her to push him off a second, suddenly flipping the two as he was left a bit disoriented from how quickly she did such. But didn’t care when Y/N brought her shirt over her head.

“Holy shit…” Daryl exhaled watching Y/N’s blush take over her face. “Can…Can I?” He sat up resting his hands on her hips gesturing with his eyes to her breasts and back to her beautiful E/C eyes.

“Touch me, baby” She relaxed against his touch when his finger tips gently graze her skin from the end of her bralette bringing them underneath such.

The archer was ever so gentle at first with bringing her sensitive bud in between in his fingers. Tugging and pinching enough to draw out the beautiful sounds from her. He pulls his hand away before using both to take her bra off. He found himself staring for a brief moment, admiring really as he brought himself close pressing kisses along her sternum feeling her hands on the back of his neck playing with his hair.

Y/N arched her back slightly when Daryl toyed with her nipple bringing it in between his lips. Sucking gently before biting the sensitive bud drawing out more moans out of her as it was already exciting him, just making it more noticeable. She could feel him getting excited as she didn’t think and just did—by grinding against him listening to his own music while he sucked on the soft pillowy skin of her breasts while returning his hands to her hips guiding her against him.

“Fuck—-Dar” She felt the warmth grow at her core as she struggled to get what she wanted out. Daryl pulled himself back a bit looking up at her bringing his hands to caress the small of her back.

“Tell me what yea want, sunshine” He almost says in a whisper but the way his voice just instantly drew chills down her back when he spoke.

“More. Please god give me more”

Daryl tried to bite back a smirk as he quickly brought her on her back, bringing himself down to her core glancing for any negative signs before getting started with removing the last of her clothing. Tossing her shorts and panties along with the rest of her clothing as he started to feel a bit over dressed. As he was quick to rid himself of his vest he was hesitant with his shirt, Y/N knowing exactly why as she brought herself to sit up after removing her legs from around his torso. She carefully brought her hands onto his face giving him a quick kiss.

“You don’t have to take your shirt off if you’re not comfortable” Y/N reassures with that loving smile of hers that he’d always take into memory every chance he saw it. “I’m okay being the only completely naked individual” she continued to smile when Daryl scoffed at first to such before giving a short lived chuckle.

“I trust you” Daryl says softly returning his lips to hers as the two went from desperately needing the other to more of a tender moment with Y/N starting to pull his shirt over his head taking in the scars she first noticed.

When she started to gently touch them, he flinched at first of course but she didn’t pry or continue when he did. Oh how this woman makes him feel so important and cared for just by her actions. The archer brought his lips to hers enjoying every second even more.

“I need you” Daryl whispers against her lips, as he shifted a bit to bring himself back above her. Sitting up to get his belt off along with his pants and as he did he remembered. “I…I don’t have a condom on me”

“Uh drawer in the nightstand”

“Always prepared for this moment or?” Daryl smirks as he leans to grab it while Y/N hides the blush that grew darker on her cheeks when he said such.

“I would say yes, in the sense that I’ve always wanted this moment with you. But when I first moved in with Carol…it was in there” She exhaled a laugh, listening to Daryl’s escape him a second.

“Really shows what some of these people were before we came along” Daryl adds while he got his pants and briefs off before putting the condom on.

The archer brought himself back in between her legs aligning his cock at her entrance keeping an eye on any change in her expression when he slowly entered her. Y/N tried her best not to be too loud but she couldn’t control herself when she felt how big he was.

“Fuck—-“ Daryl was fully inside of her feeling her squirm beneath him as he leaned over her a bit resting his hands on either side of her face. “God you’re tight. Warm—Shit” He groans letting them both adjust before he started to thrust, slow at first.

Y/N brought her legs back around his torso indicating in one way for him to go faster with also the look in her eyes of wanting more. He was happy to give, bringing his forearms against the bed brushing the hair out of her face and smiling at her. Then suddenly picking up the pace and pulling out the sweet sounding moans out from her, especially the cut short ones when he adjusted to get the perfect angle to hit her sweet spot.

“Daryl—-Baby—Oh god” She moans directly in his ear when he brought his face in the crook of her neck biting slightly to contain his own sounds. But god his sounds shot straight to her core.

They both drew close to climax, Y/N a bit sooner given the way her legs started to shake as Daryl brought one of his hands down to rub circles on her clit to get her there.

“Kiss me—-Please, baby” She begged as he happily obliged firmly pressing his to hers as her hands instantly went into his hair careful when she tugged as that drew out a moan from the archer on top of her. She’ll remember that for later.

Daryl couldn’t hold much longer especially with the way she squeezed around him when she climaxed. He tugged at her bottom lip in between his teeth, releasing as he pressed his forehead against hers bucking inside her a few more times. Giving one last thrust, groaning loud but was quick to shut himself down in case Carol was home. Something neither of them cared about until they were finished.

As he pulls out, Y/N exhales a bit of the exhaustion from her watching his every move as he was very gentle with her. Rubbing her legs as they tiredly rest against him.

“Want me to—“

“Stay” Y/N cut him off knowing where he’d go as Daryl pulls away to rid of the condom and get his boxers back on along with his shirt. “Daryl…”

“I ain’t leavin’. Let me take care of yea” He leans over kissing her once more before grabbing her shirt and shorts helping her back in her clothes.

Once he got her comfortable, Daryl was about to get up and leave for something he didn’t state yet…he wasn’t going to leave her, but her thoughts took her a moment.

“Just…lay with me, please?”

Daryl felt his smile break through even if the poorly lit room couldn’t pick it up well enough. He lifted the blanket, bringing himself right beside her and feeling her get close.

“I won’t be upset if you leave once I’ve fallen asleep…” The archer chuckled to her words.

“I’ll be right here when yea wake up, sunshine”

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

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missvelvetsstuff · 5 months ago

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As per usual, I'm a bit stuck on my current story, No Benefits(don't worry, I'm working on it but progress is slow.) And this idea popped into my head. Well, the truth is I rewatched the Newsroom and it gave me an idea. If you've seen the show you might see the similarities but it's not identical.

If you haven't seen the show, you really should.

Here's a draft of the prologue, LMK what you think and if you want more.

The Situation Room

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: After a mission almost gone wrong, Tony brings back Bucky's former assistant, who is also Bucky's ex. Can they work together without hurting each other? Will the whole truth about their break up finally come out?

Avengers AU where Thanos never happened.

Prologue

Warnings: Swearing, angst, cannabis usage

Buckys motorcycle roared up the driveway of the Avengers compound, returning from a two week vacation after a mission fiasco. Tony had sent him to his house on Loon Lake, upstate. It was bigger and fancier than Bucky ever needed but secluded, quiet and on the water. Very relaxing. Pretty girls at the bar down the road helped pass the time.

He felt himself tensing as he parked and turned his bike off. Flashes of the drama went through his mind and he shook his head in an attempt to clear it.

His goddamn assistant had risked the mission when she didn't make sure he was fully equipped. She was cute and not bad in the sack but had only lasted a few weeks before forgetting his favorite knife and guns, causing him to be unarmed and unable to protect the civilians he was trying to rush from the building. Thankfully Sam had been close by and able to get them to safety.

Bucky was lucky no one was killed. Well, no innocents were killed but a couple were seriously hurt, including a young girl, maybe 10 years old. He was shot as well but that was healed before he had headed upstate.

The press had a field day and the anti Avengers crowd went nuts. It didn't help that he lost his temper at a reporter who pushed a camera into his face, which he grabbed with his vibranium hand and crushed before returning it to the reporter with a big grin.

Bucky strode into the building, nodding at security as he passed, and went straight for his room to drop his backpack. Then he headed to the common room, just in time for dinner. Most of the team was there and Tony reminded him they needed to meet about the assistant situation.

Obviously his old assistant had been fired but a new one would need to be hired and Bucky hated that whole process. Tony expected him to at least sit in on the interviews since the first three he had were only interviewed by Pepper and washed out within the first week.

After he ate Bucky cleared his plate, confirmed he would meet up with Tony first thing in the morning, and went to bed.

His sleep was interrupted by nightmares of that mission, they had eased while he was gone but were back now that he was home. In his dreams, he failed and innocent people died, he watched that young girl bleed out in his arms before he woke up yelling.

Bucky was up at 5am, worked out, showered, ate and headed to Tony's office. When he arrived Tony's secretary waved him into the office.

Bucky sat across from Tony and waited for him to finish his phone call "Perfect, I really appreciate your help on this. I'll see you in a few minutes?" He paused, listening "No, that's no problem, I'll keep him here."

Tony hung up the call and looked at Bucky with a big grin on his face. "I believe I have solved your assistant problem. I found the perfect person and she'll be here any minute."

Bucky nodded "Great, so I can go now, right." Standing up from his seat, Bucky turned around and saw her. He did a double take, then glared at Tony

"NO! Hell no. No fucking way, this isn't happening Stark. I'm not working with her! Not after what happened. What she did."

Y/N smirked and winked at him while her gut wrenched at the hate in his eyes, she wouldn't let him see her pain. "Nice seeing you again too, Barnes."

Tony shook his head "Sorry pal, you don't get a vote in this. You've gone through 13 assistants in 6 months, not to mention the dozens in the 2 years before that. Y/N was the last one who knew what she was doing. The rest just wanted to get in your bed."

Y/N chuckled "That won't be a problem with me. I wouldn't have even come but I could use a break. Madripoor has been worse than usual since the Power Broker showed up"

Bucky flinched at the mention of Sharon Carter but pushed it aside then smirked "Well we agree on that, you're not getting anywhere near my bed." He looked at Tony "Can I go now?"

Tony nodded. Once Bucky was gone Tony hugged Y/N "Sorry about that but you know how he is better than anyone."

She shrugged sadly "It's fine. I mean he could have gone violent. I'm gonna go get my room unpacked. I'll see you at the team meeting tomorrow morning."

Bucky stalked to his room where he paced angrily for a few minutes before yelling into a pillow then changing and heading to the gym to work it out.

He started on a punching bag and his mind wandered. Why did Tony have to bring her back? There had to be other people out there that could do the job, the rest of the team all had long time assistants and didn't go through all the drama he seemed to. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't hear the door opening.

Steve walked up to him at the same time he broke the punching bag which slid across the room and threw sand everywhere. "You alright there punk?"

Bucky glared at him "Do you know what Tony has done? Did you know?"

Steve sighed "Tony told me this morning. Said he didn't want me tipping you off. I know you're not happy about it but she was the last competent assistant you had. Your mission gear, appointments and paperwork were under control so no goofs like with every assistant you've had since, you know." He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, not wanting to open any old wounds.

Bucky scoffed "How am I supposed to deal with her every fucking day. After everything that happened. I don't know if I can do this without losing it."

Steve nodded "I know but maybe it won't be so bad. Maybe you two can talk and find some kind of closure, even be friends again."

Bucky snorted "Thor been visiting with his fancy liquor? You can't possibly say that and be sober. How can I be friends after she-" he couldn't say it.

"I know jerk but just give it a shot. If it's awful then we'll make changes but at least you'll have tried."

Bucky sighed "I was gonna marry her."

Y/N went to her bedroom, Tony was kind enough to find her a place far from Bucky's quarters, where she had practically lived before everything blew up. She sighed and looked at the boxes stacked up next to the sofa, in her little seating area, before falling into the sofa.

Being in Bucky's presence for just moments was exhausting, forcing her to wade through all the heartache from two years ago. For a long moment she questioned her ability to deal with seeing him again, every day and still so pissed at her. Obviously he still hadn't learned the truth about that day but she wasn't going to try to tell him. She already did that, tried to get to him before anyone else could spin what happened but she was too late and what she found when she tried to go home had blown her life up. She had no reason to expect him to be open to hearing anything from her.

She shook her head to clear the negative thoughts. Bucky might hate her but he needed her, even if he would never admit it. Once his life was back in order and his reputation polished she would disappear back to Madripoor.

When she was done unpacking and organizing her room, Y/N grabbed a sandwich and iced tea from the cooler on the coffee table and sat back to enjoy her dinner. As she cleaned up, she ate a special brownie hoping it would help her sleep but knowing that it wouldn't be enough to stop the nightmares.

Tomorrows meeting would be interesting.

Chapter 1

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #angst with a happy ending #james bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #Situation Room

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clubdionysus · 5 months ago

Text

[BAD DECISION #43] Circles

warnings: subby koo <3, begging, handjobs, semi-public ig, jk calling himself a slut <3, edging, fingering, pussy eating, finger sucking, reader on top yeehaw, jk calling reader a slut (nicely i promise), titty sucking, vvv messy finish lawl, cum swapping, confessions??, feelings??, communication???, the moon????, some v cute moments actually!

notes: my fave thing about bd chapters is the doodles that went with them bc they're lil time capsules and u just know how the release of seven influenced me/bd hehhehe

wc: 11.8K

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

"You've got so much sand in your hair," you muse softly, resting your head on Jeongguk's shoulder. Legs are wrapped around his waist, your chest is to his broad back as he carries you through from the kitchen to the living room.

It's just you and him, now, the main house quiet, save for your giggles and his reciprocation. The sand is residual from your chat on the beach, but you're still not really sure how he managed it—but it's sort of like your glitter. Gets everywhere even when you don't mean for it to.

The noraebang session you had returned to had died a brutal death. Jimin and Taehyung blessed your eyes and ears with a theatrical rendition of Bop to the Top from High School Musical, which scored them a mere 28.

Jimin threatened legal action. Taehyung begged Danbi for reassurance that his version of Sharpay's lines were flawless.

Too drunk for their own good, the rest of your friends had trundled back to their bedrooms. You and Jeongguk insisted that you wanted to clean up. Get the kitchen and sitting room fresh for the morning.

Really, you had just wanted an excuse to spend more time together. After an evening of ignoring him, you're desperate to fill your heart with his energy.

So far? So good.

The kitchen is spotless, as if the sitting room. You could go to bed now, if you wanted to.

But you don't.

As you reach the sofa, Jeongguk continues to keep you wrapped around his body, sitting you both down together. The scent of his aftershave is a little subdued, worn away throughout the evening, but it still drives you wild. Gets you pressing a silly little kiss into the curve of his neck.

He's pretty sure if you do it again, he'll die.

You're only in this position 'cause you'd started yawning, and Jeongguk didn't want you to fall asleep. Wanted you to stay awake with him into the early hours. You'd gladly obliged, his broad back the perfect place for you to get cosy.

Easing your position, your legs loosen, hands dropping to his waist.

The scent of his fabric conditioner steals the show as you press a kiss into his shoulder.

Apparently you've lost your Goddamn mind, and are ignorant to the boundaries of platonic friendship. You don't behave like this with 'friends'—but it's nothing new, you suppose.

And you and Jeongguk most definitely aren't just 'friends'.

He's your favourite of all your friends, yes, but you care for him like a lover. Comfort him like it was your soul's purpose in a lifetime before this one. Find his gaze in crowded rooms as if you've spent millennia looking for him. Rest your head on his shoulder as if the crook of his neck was carved just for you.

He thinks it was.

"Like a little koala," Jeongguk fondly muses, one of his large hands stroking down your ankle while the other uses the remote to flick through the television options. He doesn't care much for shows nor movies these days, but just doesn't want to say goodbye to this day just yet. Wants to spend more time with you. "Watcha wanna watch?"

"Not fussy," you hum. In all honesty, your eyes are a little heavy. Whatever he puts on, you're gonna end up falling asleep. It's just a lame ass excuse to snuggle up with him in the most domesticated of ways. "Whatever you want."

Squeezing at your ankle, he says, "So you won't complain if I put Boss Baby on? WWE? Teleshopping? Porn channels?"

Shaking your head against his back, you smile. "You won't put Boss Baby on 'cause you've spent all weekend with Jimin."

"True."

"And teleshopping is a bad idea because you're weak," you tell him with absolute certainty. "They'll trick you into buying things"—

"Will not."

"Will too," you insist, knowing that he's just as bad as you when it comes to ridiculous, unnecessary purchases. "Porn channels are redundant 'cause I'm the only thing that gives you a boner these days"—

"Fair."

"So it looks like wrestling is your only option," you deduce, ignoring the way he just confirmed your joke about his boner situation.

In all fairness, Jeongguk hasn't even tried getting hard thinking about anything other than you lately. You're the only thing he desires. Only person, only body, only heart. Why waste time thinking of anything else? Wouldn't make him cum half as hard.

"I know your tricks," Jeongguk hums with a jovial air of nonchalance, opening up Netflix. "Get us watching WWE, learn a few tricks, then tackle me in a bid to seduce me. I wasn't born yesterday, Byeol. Can't fool me."

The way your body gently moves behind him when you laugh is nothing short of euphoria for Jeongguk. He loves this. Loves being with you.

For all the jokes that could be made about the validity of your claims of platonic friendship, you really are his best friend.

There's nobody else he'd ever wanna hang out with like this. Enjoys his space, yet seems to hate space when you're around. Wants to be close, close, close; always, always, always. Will stick to you like glue, if you'll let him.

"Don't need to tackle you to seduce you," you assure him. It's proven by the way his breath hitches as your hands sink to the top edge of his leather belt. You don't do anything. Just toy with the material a little. Tease. Say, "I barely have to touch you, do I? I bet you're getting hard now, aren't you?"

Suddenly, you don't feel so tired, anymore.

Sleep can wait. Getting Jeongguk off can't.

There are two options for Jeongguk in this situation: denial, or acceptance.

He's pretty sure both of them will end in his dick getting wet.

May as well have a little fun with it.

"Nope," he lies.

The truth of the matter is that Jeongguk gets stiff at the drop of a pin when it comes to you. The mere mention of sex sends blood flooding to his cock. The implication that you might want to fuck him? Oh, he may as well have been going at it for half an hour with how much it makes him throb.

"Don't believe you," you whisper.

Jeongguk is still flicking through Netflix, but doesn't choose anything to put on. Is too distracted by the way you delicately stroke his belt. You could find out for yourself, if you really wanted to. He wouldn't object.

In fact, he encourages it, when the hand that had been holding your ankle comes to rest over one of your hands. Pushes it down. Rests your palm over his crotch, and pushes his hips upwards. Grunts.

"Yeah," he says, slowly pulsing his hips, building a firm pattern, the bulge of his cock fitting perfectly into the shape of your hand. "You're right to not believe it."

The Netflix search is abandoned as soon as you purr, "Let me get you off, Gguk."

The position you're in is kept, Jeongguk's belt threaded through its buckle, trousers unbuttoned, zip yanked down in a desperate bid to get your hands around his cock as quickly as you can.

Jeongguk tips his head back, breaths laboured. His crown rests upon your shoulder, as he hums into the satisfaction of the feeling your hands provide him with. "Tighter, baby. Grip it tighter."

You can't see what you're doing. Are relying on the feeling alone. Know his cock well enough by this point that it's no issue.

He gets a little pouty when you pull one of your hands away—but gets so incredibly vocal when you spit on your fingers and wrap them back around his thick shaft. Tells you how good you feel. How pretty your hands are. How much he wants to cum all over them.

God, he'd defile you right now, if he could. Sully your skin with his sex. Get those slender fingers of yours, and pretty nails, and just cover them in his cum.

Thing is, he wants to last. Has to push thoughts of finishing to the side. Can't embarrass himself like that, even as he whines into your touch like a little bitch.

Pushing his hips up into your slippery palms, Jeongguk is utterly obsessed with the way you feel.

"Oh, fuck, baby," he whimpers when you pick up the pace, his breathing all out of sync and so terribly cute. "You're so good to me," he praises. "So good."

Handjobs are typically fleeting whenever you fuck Jeongguk. A means to an end. This is different. Your hands are moving with purpose. He's jerking himself up into your palms 'cause he needs it. Needs you.

So you tease him—"So needy, aren't you?"—and are ever so pleased when he confirms your accusation. He nods. Grunts. Bites down on his bottom lip to stifle his noises.

And it's cute. So cute how much he likes even the simplest of sexual endeavours with you. Kind of feels like he never knew how good it could be—to fuck and be fucked in return—before he met you.

There's something about Jeongguk when he's like this— pathetic —that just really gets you going. You know you're soaked in your panties. Dress pooling around your hips, you wonder if he can feel your arousal. It's sort of unintentional, the way you grind your hips up against him. You're just turned on. Want him as badly as he wants you.

"You're fucking yourself into my hand like a desperate little slut, aren't you?" you giggle into his ear, nibbling on his lobe. You know it will drive him mad.

"Shit," he curses, leaning his head to the side to give you more access to his neck. Whimpers when your lips latch right onto his sweet spot. "Such a slut for you, B. God, baby, you're gonna make me cum. Gonna make me cum so fuckin' hard."

Every single word he utters is laced with a heavy, lustful breath. He's losing his mind. Forgot the simple pleasure of a pair of pretty hands.

"Beg for it."

"Byeol," he whines.

"Beg for it," you repeat. "Tell me why you deserve to cum, huh?"

"Cause you fuckin' want it," he grunts, shuddering a little as his torso twitches from the pleasure he's fighting. "You wanna see me cum. I know you do."

"That's not begging," you say as you press a light kiss to his neck. "Do better."

And against all odds, he does.

"Let me cum," he breathlessly whispers. "Byeol, please let me cum. I'll do anything."

The power trip is unbelievable. Too good to give up.

But the tortured, laboured whimper he mewls as you release your hand? The way his body doubles over? The hushed curses under his breath?

Makes it so incredibly worth it.

"I'm on the verge of death," he pants when he realises what you've done. Squirms beneath the pressure of his undelivered pleasure. "Oh God, I'm gonna fuckin' die. You're gonna kill me."

He's being dramatic. All you've done is withheld an orgasm. Edged him a little.

All weak and limp, Jeongguk's hips are still involuntarily pulsing, cock desperate for release. Balls so tight he really does think he might die.

And so he pulls away.

Decides that if you're gonna be a brat, then he's gonna be even fuckin' worse.

He gets to his knees. Rids himself of his dress shirt. Positions himself right between your spread legs. Is gonna give you a taste of your own fuckin' medicine.

Jeongguk hooks his arms under your thighs and yanks you forward, for no purpose other than to plant kisses all over the soaked lace of your underwear as quickly as he possibly can.

Dress pooled by your hips, the access is easy. He's already deduced that you're only wearing the bra and panties of the three piece set, but he doesn't give a fuck.

Truthfully, when it comes to having sex with you, none of that matters.

Skin on skin is what he wants. Closeness. Togetherness.

"Oh, fuck me," he chokes out when he's sees how badly you want him, dark eyes tracing over the lines of your slick core.

He slips his index finger beneath the strip of fabric that covers your pussy, and pulls it to the side. Has never felt hunger quite like it. Brings his middle finger to your already soaked hole and gently pushes inside. Sinks down to kitten lick against your clit, utterly obsessed with the taste, the scent.

"God," he barely pulls away. Brushes his lips against you as he speaks. "I could just fuckin' die in this cunt."

"Then do it. Die for me," you tease, hand coming to tangle in his hair, encouraging his lips to suction around your clit. His finger continues to fuck itself into you, quick in its pace. He pulls back. Spits. Reattaches himself to you, as if he can't bear to be apart.

The sensation of Jeongguk is almost too much to bear. Almost .

Toying and teasing, he's manipulating your pussy with his hands all in a bid to get your body writhing.

There's something to be said for the way his touch just absolutely controls you. Domineers. Dictates. How he can be as soft as his silky hair in one moment, then as hard as his sharp jaw the next.

He hums in approval as he sucks on your pussy, palm to the sky as he begins to pick up the pace of his fingers. There's a lewdness to the sounds that you make together; a harmony that's so disgustingly human it almost makes him forget that you're not of this world.

Brighter than any of the stars shining in through the window, you're beaming. Alive with the feeling of Jeongguk laying claim to you, as if he's just discovered one of those scam name-a-star websites. Card data already input into the checkout, he'd waste all his resources on you.

His tongue is flat as he delves between your folds. Flat, and firm and fucking divine— until it's pointed, and precise and overwhelmingly perfect. Heat travels through your entire body, from the tip of your toes to the tops of your fingers. It's bliss. He's bliss.

The thing about stars is that they burn. Are red hot in a way that Jeongguk failed to realise when he first became acquainted with you. Every touch of your body has rewritten the fabric of his. There are constellations in his fingerprints; cosmic entities where your lips have pressed your adoration into his skin.

Jeongguk is not the same man he was before he knew you, and he'll never be the same again. The scars you leave are promises. I'm yours. Invisible to the naked eye, yet entirely obvious to anyone who spends time in his company. You're mine.

His mouth is a little too preoccupied to make any silly declarations right now, mind you. Lapping at your pussy, Jeongguk eats you out like he hasn't had a good meal all week. He'd starve for seven days if knew he'd have the luxury of your taste by the time Sunday arrives.

"Nicest pussy ever," he promises when he finally takes a second to breathe. Looks up at you, eyes glossy. Starry. The tip of his nose shines in the haze of your hedonism, lips wet. "Nicest pussy in the whole world."

"Oh yeah?" you giggle, a little amused with how sweet his compliments are. Sweet, and stupid, and simply impossible for him to test the validity of.

Not that he ever wants to. Only wants you.

You scratch behind his ear, and Jeongguk's puppy-dog tendencies return as he leans into your touch. Smiles. Hums in complete contentment.

"Mhmm," he says, leaning back down to press kisses all over your slick lips, fingers thick as they continue working your pussy for his viewing pleasure—and for your pleasure, full stop. Punctuated with pretty kisses in the place of full stops, he says, "And it's mine . I get to have it. So lucky, baby. So lucky."

There's no luck to this. None whatsoever.

A little fate, maybe. Destiny.

"Yours?" You raise a brow.

He doesn't give you a verbalised response.

Just wraps his lips around your clit, and keeps his eyes open this time. Looks up at you, dark eyes twinkling, dewy nose pressed into your skin, his desperation to devour you evident. Lets his fingers scissor inside you. Gets your toes pointing. Has you looking to the sky. Your back arches, fingers tight in his hair.

"Gguk," you whine, as if he's in any position to respond to you—but he does .

He hums, and— fuck —the vibration around your clit sends you orbiting.

"That's it," you breathe out, looking back down as a familiar sensation begins to take control. He doesn't ease up. Keeps stroking at your sweet spot. Keeps sucking on your clit. Keeps doing what he's doing 'cause he loves what's about to happen.

Ever the gentleman, and incredibly unlike you ten minutes ago, Jeongguk decides to let you ride the wave of the orgasm crashing over you. Doesn't wanna deprive you. Wants you to feel good. Knows it won't be the last time it happens tonight.

"Shit," you choke out as your shoulders press down into the sofa, one of your hands instinctively cupping your chest. The dress you're wearing is still covering most of your body, but it doesn't matter. Jeongguk'll get you out of it eventually. "That's it. That's it— fuck ."

The way your walls begin to tighten, legs hooking around the back of his head as your entire body shudders, is almost enough to make him finish, too.

He thinks it's the hottest thing he's ever had the pleasure of experiencing. Doesn't understand how he can find such pleasure in someone else's orgasm, but knows if it came down to him or you, he'd sacrifice all of his for one of yours.

Moaning as he drags you to a height of pleasure reserved only for the brightest of stars, Jeongguk smiles through it all. Reluctantly pulls away from you with laboured breath, chest heaving from the fact he kinda forgot how to breathe. Was busy. Thinks your pussy is more important than his survival.

"You good?" he checks, resting his pretty head on your thigh. Keeps his fingers plugged inside you, but slows the movements to a halt. Just keeps you full, 'cause he can. 'Cause he wants to. 'Cause he's lowkey obsessed with you.

With a nod, you let your body relax into the plush pillows of the sofa. Giggle. Keep your legs over his shoulders, but hold your face in your hands, as if you're embarrassed by how hard you came for him.

But then a kiss is pressed to your inner thigh, pretty and soft, accented by the hardness of his lip ring.

"You came so well for me, baby," he praises. Thinks it's cute how shy you get whenever you cum. So pretty and perfect and his. A shallow laugh gets caught in his throat, before he shakes his head and sits up a little straighter. "So gorgeous when you cum. Pretty, baby."

Jeongguk has never been more in love.

Slowly, he pulls his fingers from you. The tepid movement makes your back arch ever so gently, pussy still sensitive from your climax. Eyes on his, you know him well enough to get a read on his intentions. His desires.

So you just smirk. Let your lips part. Hold your tongue out ever so slightly, eyes wide, expression playful. He follows your lead. Brings his messy fingers to your lips. Sinks them into your mouth, and is met with the most glorious sight.

The expression on your face changes . Darkens .

While, yes, your eyes are still wide, it's your cheeks that really get him, now.

Your typically sweet cheeks are hollowed, your bone structure exclusively on show for him. It gets him throbbing. Gets him wrapping his spare hand around his cock—not that it needs any encouragement. He's still rock-hard for you. Still wants you.

Is proven, when he begs once more. "Let me fuck you, babe."

A smirk settles on your lips as he pulls his fingers back. You shuffle in your seat. Readjust. Keep your legs spread and encourage him to squeeze onto the sofa with you.

The angle is a little off, and it definitely isn't gonna be how you fuck him, but it brings him closer to you. Close enough to kiss. Close enough to smell your arousal on him. Close enough to let him sink his tongue between your lips and get lost in you once more.

All you ever seem to want these days is to be close to Jeongguk, and even then, close is never close enough. His lips are on yours, your tongue in his mouth, his hands all over your body—and still it's not enough.

There's something missing; words that would fuse you to him. Words that you know damn well if uttered right now would end in disaster—so you bite back the desperate, hungry, declarations that are dancing in your throat. Reach for Jeongguk's hand. Force him to wrap his fingers around the base of your throat, just so you can keep those pesky words at bay.

The squeeze of his wide hand around your neck is welcome. Not too harsh, just strong enough to let you know that no other necklace would suit you half as well as Jeongguk's pretty, tattooed hand does.

It's force of habit, more than anything, that makes his spare hand drop to your pussy. Fingers flat, he rubs over your clit at the speed of lightning, not for any grand purpose other than to make you shake a little. Smirks, when you do exactly as he thought you would.

"Look at how easy you are for me," he husks, pressing his lips across your cheek, down your jaw. Squeeze your throat a little tighter. "You gonna let me fuck you, huh?"

The tables have turned.

You're the pathetic one, now.

"Uh-huh," you whine when he sinks his middle finger back into your pussy. He's quick. Repeats it a couple times. Loves how needy you are; how noisy your pussy is. So fucking wet for him.

As he pulls his hand from your cunt and wanks himself a little, he revels in how your slick juices feel against his shaft. Doesn't know how the fuck he found pleasure in anything before he knew you. Knows he'll never find pleasure in anything else. You've corrupted him. Completely and utterly. Ruined.

His lips trail to your ear, hands roaming your body. Squeezing. Appreciating. Devouring.

He's quiet, when he husks, "Want you to ride me."

"Say please," you quip back without missing a beat.

It's not like you're gonna say no—but you are gonna make him beg a little.

"Please, B," he says so daintily it's as if his cock isn't all red and engorged and leaky at the tip for you. He's got the body of an angel, but all it makes you wanna do is sin. "Be a good girl for me. You know you want to. Fuck me how you want to fuck me."

He does know how to ask nicely, you'll give him that much credit.

Jeongguk pulls away and sinks into the sofa beside you, certain you'll do as you're told.

His arrogance will catch up with him one day, but you're too eager to please him right now. All you wanna do is fuck him right, 'cause you know he'll fuck you right in return.

There's no objection as he pulls you onto his lap. No time wasted as he rubs the tip of his cock between your soaked folds. No bodies more connected than yours when he finally pushes up inside of you.

He groans. Throws his head back. Holds your waist and is reminded of your dress. Decides that it absolutely needs to go.

The way he rids you of the silky fabric is barbaric. You don't know where he throws it. Don't know if it's still in one piece. All you know is that his lips are on your skin as soon as they can be, his hips rutting up into you, cock nudging so deep inside of your cunt you can feel him in your fucking throat.

Okay, so maybe that's dramatic, but he just fills you so fucking well. Is so big. So nice.

His hand wraps around your back to release the clasp of your bra with little to no effort. He sheds you of your clothes and has you exactly how he wants you: naked, whiney and ever so beautiful as you take his full cock inside you.

Jeongguk's not small. Not by any stretch of the imagination. He's easily got the biggest cock you've ever taken, yet your body adapts to him effortlessly. You're tight, yeah, but not painfully so. It's all pleasure. You're made for him, and him for you.

The thickness of his cock is amplified when he grabs your waist and begins to bounce you at a faster pace.

"Oh, shit," he curses. "God. Taking me so well, aren't you, B? Taking this fat cock so easily. Oh, fuck yeah. Pretty, pretty slut."

It's been a while since he got vulgar with the name-calling. Was reminded of how much he likes it when you'd done it earlier.

You'd forgotten how much you like it too; how much you like the acknowledgement that you'll slut yourself out for him, and him alone.

"Whose slut are you? Huh?" he asks, never caring for a response. Just gets a little loose with his lips when your pussy gets tight. "Who does this cunt belong to?"

"Oh, God," you mewl, unable to form anything coherent.

He almost fuckin' snorts as he laughs. "Don't think this cunt does belong to God."

"Fuck off," you laugh. Find it so endearing that he still finds the time to joke with you. "Gguk"— his hips thrust up harder, and you have to curse him out a little before you can continue —"It's yours, you prick."

He smirks. Tips his head back, the clamminess of his body making this all so much filthier. There's a sheen to his skin, sweat dappling him. His tattoos seem even more vibrant now, your hand holding onto his arm for dear life as he rams his cock into you.Slows his hips a little. Rolls them now. Husks, "Mine."

"So big, Koo," you mumble into his lips, as if he doesn't know. It's so much more satisfying hearing your stay. Your words are stuttered. Slurred. Fucked out. "Baby, you're so big."

"Don't call me that," he husks. Grabs your tits. Plays with them just 'cause he can. Teases your nipples. Pinches. Makes you mewl. "Call me that, and you'll make me fuckin' nut."

It's not just 'Koo' getting him needy today. It's 'baby', too.

Jeongguk has always been the one more naturally inclined to call you baby—but just because you don't say it as often doesn't mean you don't think it.

God, you wanna call him baby all the time these days. When you're lazing around together, when you greet him, when you're giggling with him in the sanctuary of his bedroom, birds looking on with a fond curiosity. Baby would just roll off your tongue so naturally, if you let it.

And so, in this moment, you do.

"Hmm, baby?" you torment him.

"B," he stays sternly as he pulls you down onto his dick. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix, as deep as it can possibly go. You mewl. Gasp. Whine. And he loves it. Loves the way you sound; loves that the sounds are all involuntary and that it's his size making it happen. "Don't wanna cum yet. Wanna fuck you for hours."

It already feels like it's been hours, but it also feels like it's been no time at all.

Sex with Jeongguk alters the time-space continuum. It has to. There is no way that fucking Jeongguk doesn't transform the world in some way, shape or form.

Or maybe it's just your world that it alters. Your life. Your heart.

Taking back a little control, you rake your fingers in his hair, and pull them taut. He gasps. Stutters out a moan. Eases his grip on your waist to let your hips roll at a slower pace. He puts you in control, 'cause it's what you want.

He'll give you anything you ask for. Everything.

"Shit," you curse, grinding against him. The friction of your clit rubbing up against the neatly trimmed pubic hair is nothing short of euphoric—and when his lips latch around one of your tits? Sucks on it softly? Is tender with his touch instead of the slightly aggressive, domineering Jeongguk you were expecting? Oh, you won't last long at all. "Feels so good, Gguk."

"Mhm?" he hums, vibrating around your nipple, his thumb coming to rub at your neglected bud on the other side. God, he loves your tits. Wants them in his mouth all the time. Quite the change since your first meeting. Doesn't know how he lived without them before.

"Mhhm," you nod, pressing your lips to the top of his head.

The way your bodies are moving together is anachronistic; of a time before casual fucking and the conventions of modern dating. It's primal. Lethargic in the way you want to experience one another; eager in your yearning.

It's as if you knew him in another life. As if the stars have always intended on you merging. As if you've been a black hole waiting to happen, but now in the abyss you find abundance: Love, acceptance, contentment by the bucket load.

Eventually, the pace builds like you knew it would. Jeongguk's grunts get loftier. Your moans get shorter. Sharp. They hitch at the back of your throat, and Jeongguk kisses you until they dissolve onto his tongue.

It's as he's playing with your clit that a second, far stronger, orgasm is drawn from you. You think you see stars. Jeongguk knows for a fact he sees stars.

He also takes it as confirmation that you're getting worn out; that he doesn't need to hold off finishing.

His hand grips your ass, working you up and down his shaft in a desperate bid to coax an orgasm out of his cock, even if you're a little fucked out. It really doesn't take much to get him there; to have him cursing your name and kiss your neck.

"Oh, shit, babe," he pants. "Where"—

"Tits."

" Fuck ."

Neither of you care for the awkward clambering as you get between his legs once more, nor the dizzy disposition of your knees after your orgasm.

All you care about is Jeongguk. His pleasure. Making him cum.

You want to be the reason. Want him looking at you.

And he does.

It's delicate, how violently his body unloads itself for you. His lips are parted, brows furrowed as he wanks himself for you. You've always loved him like this. It reminds you of the early days—a little too scared to touch one another, but desperately wanting to.

It's different now. Touching Jeongguk is a natural inclination that's reciprocated. If he couldn't touch you— innocently as well as intimately —then he'd probably die.

"Cum for me," you beg, holding your tits together for him.

He shudders, legs twitching as the sensation boils over, and he shoots thick spurts of semen all over your chest. You gasp as he does so, and regret not asking for it in your mouth—so you lay your tongue flat for him. He gets the memo. Rests the tip of his cock on your tongue as massages the final spurts of his load into your mouth.

"Shit," he curses, then drags you back up to his lap. Clasps either side of your jaw and pulls you in for a kiss so desperately that he doesn't even wait for you to swallow. Licks into your mouth. Whines when he tastes himself. Drops a hand to squeeze at one of your tits, and ends up just rubbing his cum into your skin.

It's filth. Real fucking dirty.

And yet it's pure.

Unadulterated desire shared between you both. Reserved only for one another.

Eventually, as the kisses begin to ease into teeny tiny pecks, Jeongguk laughs to himself. Shakes his head. Beams as he cups your jaw and presses one final, deliberate kiss into your lips.

"If you keep fucking me like that, you're gonna get me saying all kinds of dumb shit," he promises.

"Oh yeah?" You giggle, reaching across the sofa, still in his lap, to retrieve his shirt. Thread it over your arms, you don't bother to do it up - you just know that dawn is brewing on the horizon, and fear a rogue friend of you both strolling over to the main house for some reason. Your back is to the large windows, but wouldn't take a genius to work out what's occurring. "What kinda dumb shit?"

"Dunno. Shit about how you ride me so well," he praises, eyes darting around your face, 'cause he's obsessed with every single part of you. Eyes, nose, lips. Wants them all. Settles for a nudge of noses. "So good at making me feel good, baby. So good. God, I can't believe I get to fuck you."

There's a genuine look of relief on his pretty, smiley features, as if there'd be a reality in which you'd ever turn him down.

"Can't believe I get to fuck you," you giggle right back, as Jeongguk begins to preen you. He smooths your hair. Studies the glitter on your cheeks, but doesn't change it. Loves it just as it is.

"Shut up," he says, a little bashfully—as if he wasn't the one to start this whole complimenting one another bullshit.

Jeon Jeongguk always looks so pretty in the afterglow; skin made of stardust, a smile that shines. The clamminess of his skin always makes him seem a little rounder, a little softer. It's cute—and right now? It's just for you .

You half think Jeongguk is gonna throw some sort of childish remark your way, until his demeanour sort of stiffens a little. His teeth press down on his bottom lip, and the ring, of course, does the thing. He seems perplexed. Concerned.

You're about to ask, but then Jeongguk decides that you shouldn't have to.

He should just tell you. What he thinks, how he feels.

And so he says, once more, "Byeol, I don't wanna keep going around in circles."

Pulling away a little, you snuggle down into the couch beside him. Giving him the space to pull his Calvins back up, there's a comfort to the serenity you're basking in.

Anyone who saw you now—you naked save for his shirt, traces of his sex glistening on your skin, and him in his underwear—would be forgiven for thinking you were a pair of newlyweds after their big day. Snuggling into another, it's a dangerous place to get too comfy. You really should go back over to the side-house that you're supposed to be sleeping in.

"Then start going in a straight line," you counter, childish in your tiredness.

He hums out a small laugh, pressing a kiss into the top of your head. "I mean it, B. What I said earlier."

"Which part?"

"The part where I told you I wanted you," he says quietly. Squeezes you tightly. Needs you to know he's telling the truth. "No one else. It's just as true now as it was when I first said it."

"You don't know what it's like to 'have' me. I'm not easy to handle," you say candidly.

Jeongguk thinks you're incredibly easy to handle. It's your asshole ex-partners that have been difficult.

"Nor am I," he says softly instead, not fighting back against the perception you presented. Knows how you work. Knows you'd never believe him regardless. Will just have to prove it to you over time. "I don't want easy. Don't want anyone else. Just want you."

Feels like a moot point, now.

You know how Jeongguk feels. It's been established.

But it's late, and you're both a little tired and probably a bit cranky from the alcohol. Need to sleep.

And so when Jeongguk cuts the conversation, chucks you his shirt and offers you a piggyback ride to the house, you accept it.

Just like you accept it when he drops you off in your room, and never leaves.

His own bedroom is rendered useless, for there's nowhere else he'd rather dream than right next to you.

Jeongguk doesn't fight sleep when it comes. Falls into it willingly, arm still looped over your waist to keep you close. He doesn't mind the heat. Doesn't mind your hair in his face, or the inability to move freely. Would far rather sleep with you like this than alone.

Typically, you'd find it easy to fall asleep in such a position. Not with anyone else—you'd be frustrated with their warmth, and imposing touch—but with Jeongguk, it's always welcome.

Tonight, you stare at the ceiling.

Grey in the light of the bay that seeps in through the window, the emptiness feels as calming as the boy beside you. There's no reason why you shouldn't be able to sleep, but your mind seems to be racing at a mile a minute, filtering between the security of time spent with Jeongguk, and the instability of exactly what you are.

The conversations had today have shined a little light on Jeongguk's feelings, but it's still nothing solid. You're still just friends. An attempt had been made at changing that, but it was a fruitless endeavour. Just feels like Jeongguk was right—you are going round in circles.

People can be fickle, and you know that Jeongguk has been holding out his heart from hurt recently. You doubt he'll be willing to venture down the path he's already travelled with Hayun. Why make the same mistakes twice? You're both supposed to be growing. Learning.

Falling into something with you is the opposite of what he should be doing.

Yet his arm is looped around your waist, bare skin sticking to yours in the heat of your embrace. He clearly finds comfort in you, but isn't confident enough in his feelings to actually commit to you.

And you shouldn't compare—you know this—but you've been made to feel like this before.

So you adjust. Shakes out of his shackles. Can't leave, 'cause it's your room, but you consider it - where would you go? To his room? To the beach?

Anywhere but here.

There's not really much thought put into it when you eventually slip out from the duvet, and quietly head down the stairs. Are childish as you stick your middle finger up in the direction of Hayun's room, just 'cause you're sick of her and her impact on your life, but aren't willing to actually argue with her. Unseen passive aggression is your new best friend.

Sliding the front door open, you're met by the chill of the cold spring air. All you're wearing is Jeongguk's button-up - the same one he'd taken off you before bed with little care for seducing you.

That being said, he did frown when you went to change into pyjamas. Insisted that you didn't need them. Had you naked beneath the sheets with no intention of fucking you - which felt like a headfuck within itself.

You don't mean to be this way; to be so suspicious of innocence.

Your insecurities are deep-rooted. They'd been so well conditioned into the fabric of your being that they now sit flush against your previous expectations of relationships. They're impossible to pick away. They need to be excavated, then re-filled with a new understanding of what it's like to be loved.

Jeongguk's been trying.

It's hard work, though. Laboursome. Strenuous. Stressful. Takes far more time than it really should.

He thinks it's the easiest job in the world.

The reward is so much greater than the investment. There's no sunk cost fallacy with you; even if it doesn't work out between the pair of you, he's hoping he'll at least heal the wounds left by someone else. Wants you happy and healthy, only. Always. Endlessly.

The sea that stretches in the distance and far beyond your eye-line is in a state of the rest. The moon has calmed the tides or so it seems. As you crouch down, feet flat to the floor on the lawn, you hope she'll do the same for you.

There's a crunch of gravel in the distance, and you know exactly where it's coming from. Who's stepping across it in search of stars.

Part of you hates that he's awake so suddenly.

Most of you loves it.

Coming to crouch behind you, Jeongguks knees spread to either side of your body. Chin resting on your shoulder, he restrains from holding you—but only because he's aware of the fact you left. Doesn't want to trap you.

"Watcha doin," he mumbles, voice croaky, the heat of his body warming you up. "Fuckin' freezing, B. You've no trousers on."

Nor does he. In fact, he's dressed even more poorly than you are, in just a pair of boxers. Though summer is approaching, the nights here are still worthy of a padded jacket. Jeongguk's temperature is running warm, like it usually does when he sleeps. If he were to hug you—which he won't until he's certain you even want that—you'd realise this.

"S'not too bad," you say of the temperature, even though you know your nose must be ever so blushed.

"Is too," he counters quietly, the movement of his jaw as he talks forcing his chin to dig a little into your shoulder. It doesn't hurt, though. Never hurts. Jeongguk will never hurt you, not really. You do that all by yourself. "And you didn't answer me. What are you doing out here?"

"Couldn't sleep," you reply without giving him space to breathe, because honesty feels too daunting.

"Did you try?"

"To sleep?"

"Mhmm," he sleepily mumbles.

The truth of the matter is that no, you didn't. Imaginary sheep remain uncounted.

Turning your head to face him, you are pleased to see him in this state: hair fluffy, eyes puffy. He's never cuter than he is in times like these.

The moon reflects on his lip ring, specks of glitter still on his skin.

"Pretty," you say, 'cause you think he deserves to know exactly what he is.

"Pretty," he just repeats back. Is soft in his tone. Gentle. Calming.

Maybe it wasn't the moon you needed after all.

Jeongguk's lips are feathery as they brush with yours, closing down slowly. The application and removal of pressure works like clockwork, just like it always does, and the subtle swipe of his tongue against your lips is welcome. You reciprocate. Swipe your tongue against his, and encourage him to intrude—but he doesn't. Not really.

While yes, on a technicality, his tongue is in your mouth, it's not how it usually is. It's slow. Lamblike. A soft reminder of how tender he can be.

"Come back to bed," he says quietly, barely pulling away. "Wanna sleep with you." He clutches your jaw. Kisses you again, but this time lets his tongue stroke against yours a little more deliberately. "Want you to stay with me, B."

He's so much needier when he's sleepy. So much cuter. Daintier.

"Don't want you to ever leave," he whispers. Kisses you again, so that you can't reject his request.

Leave what? His bed? His life? His embrace?

He doesn't clarify, and you don't ask for it, either.

Instead, nose resting against his, eyes closed, a serene smile on your lips, you say, "Ever? I have to stay forever?"

Jeongguk nods. Kisses you quickly. "That'd be preferable."

But there's an all too large awareness looming on Jeongguk that you left .

History is repeating itself, and it's so much more bitter the second time around.

There's an embarrassment that comes with this acknowledgement.

Perhaps it's his own fault. Perhaps he hasn't really given you enough time to process everything. Hayun has always been a sticking point, and her being here has shifted the mood completely, but Jeongguk really thought progress had been made. That maybe you and him were starting to figure things out.

But you've both got experiences that taint this stage of falling for someone else. Your defences have been up ever since you came to realise that maybe you've been lying to yourself about your true feelings for Jeongguk.

So to look across dining tables and be confronted with the woman he once thought he'd marry?

It sorta killed you, a little—or at least it kills the idea of longevity with Jeongguk. A pact was made, after all, and Jeongguk is a man of his word.

It's all you can think about whenever you look at her, so fuck knows what he must be thinking about when he does.

He loved her once. Her, with her cherry red lips and feline smile. Her, with her ambition and her wit. Her, with everything that you're not.

Confusion comes with the confrontation of the girls once loved by the man you adore.

"Is it not strange?" you ask, turning to face away from him. "Having to be around Hayun all the time? Is it not awful for you? Don't you"—

"No," he interrupts your final question. Doesn't care to hear it. Knows you're in your head again over stupid shit. "B, how many times"—

"You were in love with her," you stress the words softly. A fight isn't what you're looking for. Not in the slightest. You're just trying to understand . "When I first met you, Gguk, you were in love with her."

Knowing what he knows now, feeling how he feels now, he isn't so sure.

"Was I?"

Ignorant to the fact that Jeongguk thinks you're incomparable to her, you don't fully trust his questioning.

"Yes."

Jeongguk takes a second. Knows that whatever he says next will dictate the rest of the conversation.

There's something about Hayun that just gets under your skin. No matter how much reassurance you get from him, there always will be. It's his own fault, he thinks. Knows that he's the one who informed your opinion, but fails to realise that you wouldn't have liked her regardless. She's just not your kind of person. Too critical in her gaze. Too stand-offish. It's really not hard to understand why she caused Jeongguk to develop a myriad of complexes.

"Well, what about Seokjin?" He questions now, not looking for a fight either, but definitely a little agitated in his tone. "If you're so over him, why were you comparing me to him earlier?"

"You know that's"—

"Different?" He scoffs, but still holds you. Holds you tighter, actually. "How? How am I meant to hear a comparison to your ex and not think you still have feelings for him?"

Funny, how similarly you view one another's exes.

Jeongguk is sick of Seokjin. Has met the fucker fewer than a handful of times, yet he has to bear the weight of his bad behaviour as if he's responsible for it. It's not fucking fair.

And yeah, maybe he's just tried, and a little cranky, and perhaps he should have just let you leave like you apparently so desperately wanted to—but that's the difference between him and Seokjin.

Jeongguk never wanted you to leave.

The gravity of his questioning is too sharp of a blow even for him. He lets you go. Pulls away from the embrace he's been keeping you safe in.

"I don't lie to you, B," he says, getting to his feet. The closeness he was begging for feels tainted, now. Forced. Uncomfortable. "I tell you everything ."

Everything except the part where I'm in love with you.

"I never said you didn't," you insist quietly, resentful of your brain for turning this into an argument. You don't want to argue with him. Not in the slightest. You don't understand why you are. "Don't go. Please."

"I don't get it," he stresses, his voice quiet, too. "You're pushing me away and yet you still want me close. I don't understand. B, I just... What am I supposed to do?"

The defeat in your sloped shoulders and furrowed brows when you get to your feet and turn to face him is evident. All you can do is shrug.

"Gguk, I'm scared."

He nods. Knows this. Is scared, too.

When you first met, you were both scared of what it could mean to get over your exes.

This is different. Seokjin is a fracture in time; a notch in your bedpost.

Jeongguk is so much more than Seokjin could ever be. Sure, he doesn't have his life figured out yet, and maybe you've both got room to grow—but you can grow with him. Together.

"Okay, so tell me," he encourages. Holds his hand out, and when you take it, he draws you closer. Strokes your arms. Presses a kiss to your forehead. "Tell me what you're scared of."

You're not very good with anatomy. If anyone was to ever ask you about the location of your heart, you're not sure you'd choose the correct side of your chest.

What you are sure of, is that if anyone was to ever peer inside it, the chambers of your heart would be full to the brim with the very essence of him.

They'd hear his laughter echo, and the way his hushed moans vibrate into nothingness. They'd find glitter, and gold; evidence of you and him coexisting just like you're supposed to.

They'd find origami birds, and tiny folded stars, too. Chess pieces and purple starfuckers; lip rings and lace bras hidden beneath pillows. They'd marvel at how such a small organ could be so flooded with evidence of another person—and if they were to see him the way in which you see him, then maybe they'd love him, too.

There's no denying it now.

To him, yes, but not to yourself.

You're in love with Jeon Jeongguk.

And it terrifies you.

"Hmm?" he implores you to open up to him.

"I wasn't supposed to like you this much," you feebly admit, because there's no chance in hell you're baring your soul just like that, but know that you at least have to give him something. Give him the chance to reject you. "But now I do, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

He's silent for what feels like a lifetime. In reality, it's maybe three, four seconds. No more than five. Just enough time for him to digest your words. They go above the territorial need of not wanting to share. They're an indication that maybe he isn't totally insane. That maybe he could love someone and be loved in return.

But he's leaping. Knows that there's a far stretch between 'like' and 'love'. A bridge needs to be crossed, and he doesn't know if you're willing to do that.

"Guess it depends," he says, trying to remain calm even if his heart is crashing against his ribs like the waves against the shore in the distance. Wants to kiss you. Thinks it's the only thing that will get his head straight. Swears you must be a fucking drug. He's having withdrawals. Needs you in his system.

"On?"

"Are you happy?"

A simple question without a simple answer.

Yes, you're happy. Happy with your life, with your friends, with your blooming potential within the local gallerist network. Happy when you're with Jeongguk, and happy whenever you think of him, too.

But you're delicate in such a way that happiness feels underserved. As if it will be stolen from you. You're unable to ever fully revel in it for fear of losing it.

Your hesitation is noticed, so Jeongguk meets you halfway. Pulls you close, and wraps his arms around you. Holds you tight. Says, "I think I'm happiest when I'm with you, B."

"You're just saying that," you mumble against his bare chest, and then realise how bloody cold he must be, even if he radiates nothing but warmth. Feel bad for dragging him away from comfort. "Look, let's just go to bed. We're both too tired for this shit. We can talk about it in the morning."

He just nods. Agrees. Follows your lead.

While his body is tired, Jeongguk's mind is not.

When you finally settle into sleep—in his room, this time—he's the one who can't drift off. Just sort of stares at you, and wonders how the fuck something so straightforward is so complicated.

He fails to realise that just because he knows he likes you too doesn't mean you know it.

It's not like he told you. Told you all sorts of lewd shit about your pussy, but never actually told you just how much he adores the way your body rocks a little when you laugh, nor how much he likes the almond-shape that you file your nails into. Has never told you how much he cherishes the fact you challenged him in the way you did on that first Dionysus night. Isn't even sure you remember it.

But he does.

Keeps the memories stored away in his mind where only the fondest of thoughts are allowed to go.

He's never given it much thought, but memories of Hayun go elsewhere. Somewhere between the sections reserved for painful and passive moments. Those sections self-delete the files. It's why he doesn't realise. Doesn't hold onto them.

But he holds on to you when he eventually sleeps.

And when you wake?

Holds you even tighter .

Stretching out a little, you curl back into comfort with him. "Morning."

"Morning, baby."

Oh, god . You're going to die .

He presses a kiss to your head. Hooks his leg over you so that you can't leave.

Yep. Death imminent.

"Sleep okay?" he asks, as if you weren't both outside at ass o'clock debating the very nature of you... 'friendship.'

Surprisingly, you did actually manage to sleep fairly well after it all. Had worn yourself out with all those mental gymnastics of yours.

Adjusting your head to look at him, you hum a confirmation. Spend a moment or so just taking him in.

Eyes shut, his dark lashes splay over the tops of his cheeks. The curves of his face contrast with the harshness of his angles; full cheeks, sharp jaw. Soft lips, hard lip ring. Delicate cupids bow, defined childhood scar along his cheekbone, indented on his freckled skin. A man of complexities, Jeongguk will always confuse you to a certain degree.

"Had a dream about you," he mumbles quietly. Is still half asleep.

"Oh yeah?" You smile, toying with some of his hair.

"Mhmm," he nods, the side of his face rubbing against the soft cotton on the pillowcases. Squeezes you even tighter. God, he loves being with you. "You said you like me."

And suddenly your cheeks flame. You try and squirm away, but he doesn't let you. Just laughs.

Knowing you as intimately as he does, Jeongguk knows you were bullshitting when you said you'd talk about it in the morning. Knows that he has to be the one to mention it, but knows that anything other than jokes about it will make you get all defensive.

"So cute, B," he teases, grip tight around you as you flounder.

"Fuck off!"

"You like me soooo much," he teases, because it's sweet, and it is cute, and it makes him feel all fuzzy inside. The way you're wriggling and trying to get out of his embrace confirms one thing: yes, he would still love you as a worm.

"I like it when you shut up," you scowl, accepting your fate of being trapped in his arms. You kinda hate yourself for admitting it. Kinda feel awful for the fact he's not said it back.

You fail to realise that it's because he's a boy, and is stupid.

But then again, so are you - how could you not know the poor boy is beside himself with giddy excitement over the fact you finally gave him an inclination as to how you feel.

"No," he grins, eyes still closed, arms still tight. "You like me."

"I think you're a tit."

He opens just a single eye. Pulls his head back, and sticks out his bottom lip. "Okay? We both know you like tits"—

" God ."

" Jeongguk , not God, baby," he corrects you. Calls you baby as if there's a ring around your finger and both of your names on a joint lease. "Sex God, yes, but just a mere mortal man unfortunately."

"You're so fuckin' annoying," you grumble—yet when he loosens his grip, your arm slinks around his waist instead.

"Gotta get up," he says. Forces you up with him. Sees your naked body for 0.1 seconds and drags you back to bed with him. Decides, "Breakfast can wait."

Though on a technicality, it could be argued that breakfast is exactly what he has before you eventually surface from his room half an hour later.

Hair half up in a claw clip, one of Jeongguk's shirts french-tucked into your jeans, there's a glow about you as you walk side by side up to the main house. He's talking nonsense about a film you've never seen, and you're just enjoying listening to him. You encourage his enthusiastic points, and promise that you'll watch it and compare notes with him.

By the time you approach the kitchen, everyone else is already there.

"What time do you call this?" Yoongi scolds, but Jeongguk just shrugs. Sort of positions himself in front of you. Reaches behind himself to tuck you a little further out of any judgemental eyes.

"Time you got a watch," Jeongguk deadpans.

Yoongi smiles. Doesn't actually give a shit. Is just teasing. "I've got a watch. It says it's about time you got a new joke."

"Oh, shit," Jeongguk gasps, then reaches into the pocket of his loose-fit jeans. Paired with a white vest and baggy sweatshirt, he's every bit the nineties heartthrob. The chain he always wears is on show, and it drives you a little wild. Rummaging around in his pocket —"I could have sworn I had a new joke in here"— everyone knows what he's gonna do.

They're proven correct when he pulls his hand out of his pocket, his middle finger pointing to the sky.

"You're a child," Namjoon grins.

Jeongguk doesn't deny it. Just beams as he sinks into the sofa, leaving a you-sized space next to him.

You glance over to Danbi, who outstretches her legs to fill the space beside her. Rids you of your options. Smirks in your direction. You're welcome.

Narrowing your eyes in her direction as you take your seat, Jeongguk seemingly abandons all previous restraints he had. Tucks his hand between your legs and holds your knee.

From across the room, Hayun's gaze burns into you.

And yet the soft stroke of Jeongguk's thumb against your legs soothes the scorching arrows she's firing at you.

The rest of the group are embroiled in conversations, the TV also on, so no one notices when you lean over to speak quietly, just loud enough for Jeongguk to hear you.

"Hayun's staring," you tell him, 'cause you've decided that playing it cool has done no one any favours so far.

You're a little bit insane, but Jeongguk already knows this. Likes it. There's no point trying to pretend like you're not just to one-up Hayun. Pretending like you don't care will only serve to hurt you in the long-run.

Jeongguk tilts his head to look at you. Lets a slightly lopsided grin settle on his lips as says, "Well, yeah." His eyes drop to your body, then back up to your lips. Linger for a moment. Finally reach your eyes again. "You look fit as fuck. I'd be staring, too."

"I don't think that's why she's staring."

"Okay," Jeongguk accepts, knowing that even if the conversation is unserious, you've mentioned it for a reason. His hand comes to tuck a little strand of hair behind your ear, then clasps your chin and tilts your head upwards. Gets you looking at him with narrowed eyes and a curious smile. His fingers drop to your collar, tweaking it a little, as he says, "I've had this shirt for years. She probably knows it isn't yours."

"Possession is, like, ninety percent of the law," you assure him, a little pouty, and it takes everything in him not to kiss you.

But you're with friends, and shit is still up in the air, and Jeongguk doesn't understand what the fuck is happening between the pair of you. He thinks you're a thing, but, like, he isn't sure and that makes this whole situation so incredibly messy.

What he does know is that Hayun could be screaming blue murder and he wouldn't give a shit. The more he comes to realise how nice it is to be with someone who actually treats him with an ounce of respect, the more he distances himself from his former feelings.

"Sounds like you're trying to exploit a legal loophole," he counters right back.

"So what if I do?" You say, shamelessly flirting in your quiet corner, friends ignorant. Your stomach is full of butterflies, charging around, wings tickling your insides. "Maybe I'll break the law on purpose."

The way you hold your wrists together and present them to Jeongguk—knowing full well he kinda has this weird thing for wrists—is nothing short of cruel.

He knows exactly what you're insinuating. Knows he'd die to get you in a pair of cuffs. Instead, says, "Behave yourself."

It's no use. He's already got a semi.

Hayun is, at least, now in conversation with Taehyung. Something about the interview she had. You're not listening in.

There's also no need for Jeongguk to drag the flirt out. The primary purpose of it was to distract you. Keep your mind on him. Jeongguks secret weapon to ease your mind is to keep you locked on him.

Works every single time.

"You're trouble, B," he smiles fondly, before getting to his feet.

There's no discussion of where he's going—just through to the kitchen. Wants to adjust his trousers, and could also do with some water. You let him go, not really caring to stop him. Autonomy is a wonderful thing.

Instead, you just join in the conversation at hand: A debate over who won the Jilympics, for it was never declared the day before. You come to Seoyeon's defence. Insist your team won. Know full well you didn't.

When Jeongguk returns, you quickly say, "Right Gguk? You agree with me?"

He's got no fuckin' idea what you're on about. Says, "Yeah. Of course. You're right."

The smugness of your smile lets him know what a grave mistake he just made.

"Gguk!" Namjoon groans.

Jimin just smirks. Keeps the taunt of 'pussy-whipped bitch' to himself.

"What?!"

"His word is final," you assert before any clarification can be given. "Power in numbers. More people think our team won"—

"Wait, what?!"

"Shhh, Gguk, I'm doing important business," you hush him—but suddenly your mouth is covered by his palm.

"Don't listen to her!" He wails. "She's a fraud!"

Naturally, the only thing you can do in this situation is bite his finger.

"Ah— shit . Mother fucker!"

"What Jeongguk means to say is Team Seoyeon won," you smile with such nonchalance that your friends can't help but laugh at how ridiculous and petty both you and Jeongguk are.

Match made in heaven, some would say.

When he sits back down, he just sits straight on you. Is deliberately annoying. Not a single person bats an eyelash. It's expected of him. They've known him long enough to know what he's like. In fact, there are only a few laps in the room that haven't been sat on by Jeongguk and his need to be a petulant brat.

Nobody sees—'cause Jeongguk's obscuring you—but you bite him again. Just the shoulder blade. He's sitting in such a position that you can't move your hands, so it's your only real offensive weapon.

It's cute, Jeongguk thinks. Cute that you think you're strong enough to hurt, and cute that you've chosen to bite him. He turns his head over his shoulder. Mumbles, "Careful. I'm into that."

In all honesty, he's passive when it comes to using teeth in the bedroom. Likes a little bite on occasion, but by no means needs it. Just knows that you'll recoil in disgust, and it'll make him laugh.

You do just as he expects.

And like clockwork, he giggles to himself. Slides off your lap, but remains a little sprawled over you, just 'cause he can be.

Again, no one really pays it much notice.

Instead, the morning crawls on by. There's no attempt to hurry it up. In all honesty, the constant activities have worn everyone out.

If Jeongguk and Hoseok hadn't planned such a chill afternoon, then they would have been tempted to cancel it in favour of chucking a movie on the TV.

Much like your birthday—and actually inspired by it—they get everyone crafting. In this case, it's painting. A couple dozen canvases have been purchased, and the rest of the supplies were sneakily stolen from your place of work by Hoseok. You recognise it all—the brushes, the paints, the aprons—and find yourself laughing.

So often watching other people paint, you never really get the chance to do it yourself. It's a shame, considering how much you enjoy it. You're no Picasso, but you're not bad.

The rules are simple for the activity, so much as the fact that there are no rules. Knowing that their activity would fall towards the end of a busy weekend, the boys had settled on something of a little slower pace.

A playlist of chill songs curated by Jeongguk hums from the speaker in the kitchen, the large glass doors open, turning the lawn and house into a hybrid space. The supplies are kept inside, but you all opt to paint outside.

Laying flat on your tummy, you're painting the view ahead of you. It's all shades of blue and little else, an uninterrupted horizon that extends for miles upon miles.

In a small cluster with Danbi and Hoseok, it's nice to be with your people.

Yoongi and Seoyeon are in their own little world, doing portraits of one another, and Taehyung has roped the rest of the boys into posing for him in human pyramid formation. Jeongguk and Namjoon are stable as the bottom pillars, with Jimin taking the top spot.

You're not really sure what Nabi and Hayun are doing. Choose not to glance their way. It's a shame, because you really do like Nabi.

The awkwardness is beginning to grate on you. All you want is an easy life.

Regardless of the current state of affairs, once upon a time, Hayun had been liked by everyone here. She was a fundamental part of the friendship group. It sort of makes you think that maybe you should make an effort with her.

Not in some lame-ass attempt to be a 'cool' girl. You've already decided that you don't care to be one. Moreso as a white flag. You intend on sticking around, and so you're gonna have to learn to live with one another.

"I'm not saying I want to be besties with her," you tell Danbi. "But it wouldn't hurt to at least try and find some common ground, would it?"

Danbi mulls it over. Isn't so sure. Doesn't really think you should have to make an effort at all.

"Look, I won't lie," you add on when Danbi doesn't respond quickly enough. "She irritates me, but what else am I supposed to do? Can't go through life acting as if she doesn't exist."

"You can," Danbi assures you. "I would."

As much as you know this to be absolutely true, you're just not wired in the same way as Danbi.

The very first night you met Hayun, you were unable to keep your cool. Argued with her over the dumbest shit just because you were so incensed that she had the audacity to question your presence in Jeongguk's life.

Things are different, now.

You're secure in your place. He's made it that way. Made it clear that he puts you above Hayun.

He's trying.

It's only fair that you try, too.

When Jeongguk finally comes to join you, also laying flat on his tummy, but opposite you on the other side of your canvas, you choose against raising the topic. Decide not to tarnish the simplicity of him choosing to be with you now with any negative thoughts.

Not looking at him as you mumble nonsense about nothing, you continue to add hues of blue to the canvas, and don't object when he picks up a thin brush and starts to add pretty little stars in your sky.

Painting has always been a group activity for the pair of you. He can put it in the living room next to your tits.

The afternoon dissolves into an easy state of being. Mindless chatter is paired with the act of quite literally watching paint dry, but no one finds it boring. Respite had been needed, and you're quietly smitten with the fact that Jeongguk is one of the masterminds behind it. So big brain of him. So sexy.

Lazing next to you, paint smeared on his cheeks by your messy fingers earlier that afternoon, Jeongguk really can't be bothered to shower before dinner. Moans and groans, until you say you'll shower with him.

He's up and on his feet, holding a towel by his door within no time at all.

"Chop chop," he tells you, pretty face ever so pleasant. Eyes wide and round, there's something about him—hair dishevelled, skin covered in paint—that just takes you back to the early days. Gets you grinning from ear to ear.

Holding out his hand as you stand, Jeongguk pulls you closer. Presses a teeny tiny kiss to your lips, 'cause he can't ever seem to stop now that the boundary has been broken down.

"We're a mess," you smile against his lips.

Literally and figuratively.

And as you step out of his room, hand in hand with lovesick smiles on your lips, only to find Nabi and Hayun doing their makeup for the evening ahead in the communal sitting room, you realise things are about to get a whole lot messier.

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