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ceilidho · 9 months ago

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take me home, country road

[ao3]

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (part 8)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

Now a nocturnal animal emerges into the daylight hours.

A week becomes two and your shoulders untense. It’s not something you notice at first because you’re used to an ever present strain between your shoulder blades and an ache in your jaw from grinding your teeth at night. Then a fortnight goes by without so much as a missive with your name on it floating across John’s desk or a stranger appearing in town after tracking you down, and you wonder if maybe the world really is big enough to hide in.

It sure feels that way at times. The woods beyond the bounds of John’s property stretch out farther than the eye can see and even walking it feels like you could disappear into another realm. Old spruces shoot up high into the clouds, and deeper into the woods, huge rock formations grow more and more prominent as you near the mountains. John takes you through the woods on horseback, following the rough trails carved into the dirt by a century of wagons and carts using the same path. The footprints of a different time.

Up in the trees, birds warble and chirp, talking to one another in songs that you’ve never heard before. A woodpecker drills into the side of a tree. Pinecones snap out of the upper branches and drop to the forest floor.

There is only a single trail and it’s easy to lose. You grow a bit nervous when John takes you off the trail and deeper into the woods, but he does so with the confidence of a man that knows these woods like the back of his hand. You go quiet when he stops Buttercup to let a herd of deer wander by, the stragglers hurrying to catch up with the group, throwing the two of you nervous glances before they disappear into the thicket.

“Should we be out this far?” you ask in a whisper, reluctant to disturb the silence. Though the woods are full of animals that bleat, chirp, chatter, and hoot, the sound of your own voice feels preternaturally loud and shrill.

“We won’t get lost, darlin’. I know my way around,” John reassures you, curling an arm around your waist to hold you to him. These days, you hardly worry about tumbling off the horse. Not with him at your back anyway.

“That wasn’t really my worry,” you mumble, trailing off.

“Then what’re you getting all worked up about?”

“Aren’t there wolves out here? Or bears?”

He snorts, the sound making you jolt. You don’t topple over because he has such a firm hold around your waist. “They don’t usually come this close to town. They’re more scared of you than you are of them.”

“That sounds like something mothers tell their children to stop them crying,” you say flatly. You draw your legs up automatically when John directs Buttercup through a shallow basin, a shortcut back home. It makes you anxious for a moment, but the water barely goes up to her ankles, so you relax when you realize that you’re in no danger of being swept away by the current.

“That doesn’t mean a bear or wolf can’t wander by, but it’s rare.”

“And there it is.”

You can feel the heat of his glower on the back of your head. “We could spend the night out here if you want to see for yourself.”

At that, you shut your mouth. Even if he were to prove his point, you have no interest in camping out in the woods now that you’ve become accustomed to the luxury of a soft bed. Granted that you’re forced to share that same bed, still you’ve never slept half as well as you do these days. You wake up rested after nine hours of blissful shut eye, a sleep so deep that your dreams only come in half-remembered flashes. Often they involve the man you wake up wrapped around, and for that you’re grateful that they remain submerged.

A new desire has started to burrow its way into the back of your mind in recent days. It starts out as a thought so brief that you hardly notice it before it skitters away.

And then it lingers.

You wake up in the middle of the night hot, sweat dripping down the nape of your neck and a fire burning in your loins, a red-hot coil wound around itself, fit to burst. Pulsating. At some point throughout the night, you must have thrown a leg around John’s waist because it rests there now, your hand planted in the middle of his chest and your sex all but rubbing up against his thigh. Under your hand, you can feel his heart pump strong and steady.

You hold very, very still, waiting for him to wake. But John sleeps on, his palm loose where it rests along the curve of your hip, fingers curling into the flesh of your backside.

You can hardly look at him these days without shaking. You’ve come to fixate on the sway of his hips when he walks and the flecks of silver in his beard. The grooves in his weathered hands. The way your head fits in the palm of his hand when he cradles it to his chest. The fond glimmer in his eyes that shines the brightest when he puts his hat on your head and it slips past your eyes, too big for your head.

When you tip it up in order to see, the folds around his eyes become more pronounced with the force of his smile.

“There you are, bug,” he says, taking the hat off your head to set it back on his and reeling you in for a kiss.

Bug, love, honey, darling. The constant flux of endearments makes your head spin. John never calls you by the name on your marriage license. It’s like that name means nothing to him, cast away at the first opportunity and replaced by an endless stream of pet names.

He hasn’t touched your sex since making you come on the porch swing the week before. He pulls you into a chaste embrace at night, the only evidence of his own desire being the stiff shaft nestled against the small of your back in the early morning hours, which he takes care of on his own in the bathroom downstairs after pressing a kiss to your cheek. You feel robbed of something, though you don’t know quite what.

You’re tempted to offer your help, but you don’t know exactly what that would entail. Inexperience and fear of rejection hold you back, stay your tongue. In the two weeks you’ve been married, he hasn’t once tried to pin you down and rut between your thighs like you expected and dreaded that very first night.

Now that that time has passed, you don’t know how to initiate that moment again.

John promises to teach you how to ride a horse. You can’t see a reason to protest, much to your chagrin. Despite your apprehensions, even you can’t deny that it would be a helpful skill. A train only goes one way after all, confined to a single track. A horse has no such laws to obey.

The thought stays nestled at the back of your mind as the days continue on.

You flounder around in the kitchen on the day that John invites his deputies over for supper. You’ve met the big one—Simon—now a small handful of times, each encounter marked by a silence that sucks the air out of the room when he turns his gaze on you and holds it. Perhaps you’ve simply ascribed too much importance to his person, given that every time you’ve seen him, your life has changed irrevocably. His presence is always followed by revelation it seems. The archangel of vicissitude. A harbinger of uncertain times.

The other two are new. John introduces you to them when you bring out the cutlery and crockery to set the table, and you nearly go cross-eyed when they reach across the table at the same time to offer their hands. You go to meet them halfway, but flinch when John brings his hand down on the table with enough force to make the silverware jump.

“Sorry, darlin’,” he apologizes to you first before turning his glare on the other two. “That ain’t proper, boys. You wait for the lady to offer her hand first—you don’t treat a woman like she’s a mutt you’re teaching to shake.”

“Ah, sorry, hen,” the one on the left says, his voice a thick Scottish brogue like a purr. He’s possibly the handsomest man you’ve ever met, but there’s something dangerous and wild in his eyes. When he smiles, it curls up in a roguish sort of way that makes you falter, like he’s in on a joke that you aren’t. “Dinnae mean to offend. No’ often we get ta meet such a pretty lady.”

“Sorry—” the one on the right apologizes in a voice far more earnest than his counterpart’s. “And sorry for him. We think he was raised by wolves.”

“What’s yer excuse then?” the Scot sneers, knocking his knee into the other man’s under the table. “Dinnae see ye waitin’ for her fuckin’ hand like a gentleman—apologies, hen.”

“Christ,” John sighs, leaning back in his chair and staring up at the ceiling.

Simon stays silent at the other end of the table, but the whole table jumps when he aims a kick at the Scott’s leg. He hisses and blurts out a word in a language you’ve never heard before, the word unmistakably vitriolic. He clutches at his shin and shoots a nasty look at Simon, though he doesn’t make a move to retaliate.

“Name’s Kyle. Kyle Garrick,” the other introduces himself, and you finally reach across the table to offer your hand. His hand is warm against yours when he takes it, dark skin burnished in the candlelight. There’s something inviting about him; something about his eyes, so dark that you almost fall into them. Thick lips curl up into a smile. “And this here is Soap.”

You frown. “Soap?”

The man in question runs a hand down his front, emphasizing the cut of his shirt and the way it clings to the muscle of his chest. “‘Cause of how well I clean up.”

Simon barks out a laugh at that. The sound comes so sudden and sharp that it startles you. “You got it ‘cause your mum had to wash out your mouth with soap.”

It’s the most you’ve ever heard out of him and you can only stare wide-eyed at the lot of them as they dissolve into bickering and squabbling after that. It’s almost a relief to head back into the kitchen to finish cooking.

Dinner is a similar messy affair, punctuated by the sound of Soap practically gnawing the meat off the bone. He only apologizes when John barks at him for making a mess, more food on the floor around him than on his plate, but his table manners don’t last very long. John doesn’t seem so much embarrassed on their behalf as annoyed, but it’s an annoyance that comes with an aftertaste of warmth. You can tell without asking that they’ve known each other for years.

There’s room enough in you for food and envy. Back home you had friends. Never close friends, but acquaintances at least. Maids you could recognize by face. Small talk while ascending single-file up the servants’ staircase. Perhaps little more than that. You’d never been particularly close to any of them, but how could you? You worked from morning ‘till night, up and down the stairs, moving in the shadows. Never making too much noise lest your employers take notice of you.

Like he did.

You shake it off. That’s no matter now. You’re hundreds of miles away and living under a new name. A married woman, to the county sheriff no less. It only sometimes hurts your heart to think of how lonely you’d been.

When they leave, you stand at the window and watch as they disappear into the black of the night, Simon at the front of the pack, his torchlight leading the way. The sound of horse hooves beating against the dirt recedes the farther they get.

His hands warm your shoulders. You don’t know how long he’s been there, standing behind you while you stared out the window after the boys. All you know is that his hands are warm, and the kiss he presses to the back of your head makes you arch back into him, unconsciously gravitating closer to him. Needing to be near.

In bed, you curl your fingers against his chest. On a rough exhale, you wake. You dream still of something terrible that happens somewhere else, in another city, in an old life. His heartbeat lulls you back to sleep.

John takes you to the local seamstress to have you fitted for a pair of pants and suddenly you’re out of excuses. They fit you comfortably, like a second skin, and you find yourself pulling at the legs at your final fitting as if to stretch out the material. The seamstress nearly jabs you with a pin and glares up at you until you stop fidgeting.

You come to terms with it when he brings you into the stables and makes you fetch the saddle from where it rests on its stand. It’s heavier than you expected. You stumble back over to where John now has Buttercup standing in the middle of the stable, holding her by the lead fixed to her bridle.

“I don’t know if—” you start, trepidation climbing up your chest until it grips you by the throat. For as many times as you’ve ridden her, you’ve never done it alone.

John fixes her lead to a post and walks over to you, taking the saddle from your hands and letting it drop to the ground. He cups your face in both hands to tilt your head up. “Hey, honey. We’re not doing much of anything today, alright? Just a walk around the paddock so you get used to sitting on Buttercup on your own. I’m not gonna smack her ass and send you down the trail at full tilt..”

That gets a laugh out of you. “You promise?”

He smiles. “Promise, darlin’.”

And he keeps it. The only thing you do that day is learn how to tack a horse and how to properly mount and dismount her. The latter part of the lesson is devoted to you trying to find your balance while John leads the two of you around the pen at a leisurely pace. He calms you down when he sees you grow too stiff, stopping to coo and rub your thigh until you gradually relax. It’s heartwarming until Buttercup begins to tense up too for a reason unbeknownst to you and you watch in righteous fury as John calms her down the same way.

John gets you a hat to keep the sun from beating down on you, but there’s little he can do about the soreness between your thighs and the stiffness in your legs the next day. All you can do is hiss and moan in pain, hobbling around the house until he forces you down into a chair and hikes up your dress in order to apply an arnica salve to your inner thighs.

It’s a relief and an affront at the same time. The duality of man. The salve soothes much of the ache, but you twitch nervously around John for the rest of the day, the memory of him pinning you to the chair and forcibly spreading your thighs haunting you. The lingering ache in your core is just the salt in the wound.

It rains another day. A light drizzle while the sun is still out.

Every day you sit and you think, will it be today? And then the wash basins are emptied out in the field, the horses are taken out to the paddock, you pin the laundry up on the line to dry, and John presses a farewell kiss to your forehead when he leaves you with Kate and nothing happens. Every inch of you waits for more, anticipates more. Throbs when he leaves you wanting, only a chaste kiss and a squeeze around your waist before he’s off.

You can feel it coming to a head. An itch you can’t shake.

That day comes with another ache you can’t shake.

“Please,” you beg, clasping your hands in front of you. “One day of rest. That’s all I’m asking. I can’t do this anymore, John.”

John snaps the lead in his hands. “Let’s get a move on. We’re burning daylight.”

You hang your head low on the march over to the stables, John taking up the rear like he expects you to bolt. An executioner’s walk. The thought of escape has never seemed further away—not even because of its feasibility, but because all you want to do is lie down and rest.

“You can quit your moping,” he says as you tack up Buttercup, a pout on your lips. “Got something special for you today.”

That makes you perk up, regardless of the fact that he doesn’t specify what that is. Anticipation mounts in you when he helps you up onto Buttercup and then climbs up behind you himself. He steers her away from the paddock and towards the trail leading into the woods, the sun at its zenith now, illuminating everything as far as the eye can see.

You’ve ridden this trail before. A week ago, with John at your back as he is now. Through the fields and over the hills until the trees start to number in the tens and then the hundreds, no clear delineation between plain and forest. Simply there and then everywhere.

By now, after hours of sun beating down on the path, the trail is mostly dry, yesterday’s rain long since having sunk into the earth. You think it’d still be a tough hike on foot, but on horseback you cover acres of land at a brisk pace, Buttercup hardly breaking a sweat. You cross paths with a small group traveling by horse and wagon, but John breaks off from the path not too long after that, steering Buttercup deeper into the wilderness, where the only gullies are the ones carved out by years and years of rainfall.

You only see it when the land begins to dip and you’re forced to hold onto the horn and tighten your thighs around the fenders to keep steady. At the bottom of a hill, a small stream opens up into a larger river, narrowing out at the other end where the land rises again and the water can only trickle over the pebbly riverbed. On the other side, a rocky outcropping cuts the stream off from view.

“Is this where you used to come to bathe?” you ask, recalling an earlier conversation.

John sighs. “Thought I’d take you for a swim as a treat, but if you’d rather just tease me—”

“Well now, let’s not be hasty,” you say, already trying to dismount on your own, eyes glued on the stream glimmering in the sunlight. John chuckles, keeping you pressed to him until he guides Buttercup under a tree for shade and dismounts first, helping you down after him.

All you want to do is wade in the stream up to your ankles, so that’s what you do. Boots kicked off, Buttercup relaxing in the shade of a tree, John standing by the water’s edge with his hands on his hips and watching you tiptoe over the smooth rocks below. You roll up your pant legs, but eventually you feel the ends grow damp as you venture farther out. At its deepest, you would probably sink up to your waist.

“Don’t you want to swim?” John asks from somewhere behind you.

You splash around a bit, kicking your feet through the water. “Hard to do that with clothes—”

When you turn back around to face him, your eyes dart down momentarily at the sight of skin before you squeak and whirl back around, sending up an arc of water. Twice now you’ve seen him naked.

“You’ve no clothes on,” you state, bluntly enough that it almost sounds stupid.

You hear the water splash and ripple when he takes his first step in. “Right—you better think about doing the same if you don’t want to ride home soaking wet.”

“I was perfectly fine just getting my feet wet,” you say indignantly.

“We came out here to swim, not get your feet wet,” John laughs. You stiffen when his hand comes down on your shoulder, conscious of the fact that your husband is standing right behind you, entirely divested of his clothes. “So best get to steppin’.”

“You can’t make me.”

“Oh, honey,” he says pityingly. “Yes, I can.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as you make your way back to shore, careful not to allow yourself a glimpse of him. Your boots are stacked beneath the shade of another tree, John’s clothes folded neatly beside them. You strip slowly, attentive to the world around you; though unlikely, it’s not impossible that someone might wander by. Your only consolation is that John is still within sight, though you keep your back to him because in recent days, you’ve developed a hunger for him that even now makes your stomach hurt.

Though the air is warm, you shiver. When you turn around with your arms crossed over your breasts to hide them from sight, you find John wading in the river up to his waist. You’ve seen him like this once before, the hearty body of a man in his prime. Sturdy and strong. The hair on his chest is darker than that on his head, wet too from the dip he must have taken when your back was turned. His hair is slicked back too, a wet hand combing it back.

“Come on, darlin’,” he calls, beckoning you forward with his hand.

The water is a cold shock when you step in past your ankles. Ice cold tendrils wrap up your legs, sucking the warmth from you.

You suck in a soft breath when he pulls you into his arms and heaves you up, big hands gripping under your thighs. Your breasts press against the wet skin of his chest, nipples already pebbled. The river is deeper than you assumed; John pulls you deeper in until it pools around your waist and then your chest. Cold enough that you shiver until John dips his head down and the kiss he presses to your lips melts you from the inside out.

You can’t escape the intimacy of water-slick skin. When John drags you up his chest, your nipples brush over his and the shudder that passes through you is violent, toe-curling. You know that he can feel the heat of your core even underwater. With your legs wound around his waist, every inch of you is plastered to his front. Even your fingers play with the ends of his hair, arms draped over his shoulders. You can’t look away.

“C’mon,” he murmurs, breath hot on your face. “Eyes on me.”

As if you could look anywhere else.

He reaches down under the water to readjust himself and you gasp when his shaft is suddenly right there, trapped between his belly and your heat. It’s the closest you’ve ever gotten to coitus, his glans nestled between your folds. You’d only have to shift slightly for him to slip right in. The thought makes your breath quicken.

He doesn’t make a move to take you though, even knowing that he could. How easy it would be. How it’s due to him. Your husband that’s waited a fortnight to take you as his own. John kisses you until each slick pass of his lips grows sloppier, clumsier—his lips barely parting from yours before they’re on you again, rendering you a creature of base needs.

But his hands don’t shift from your backside where he holds you in place. His fingers dig into the flesh hard enough to bruise, but they don’t move to part your folds to make room for his manhood. You expect him to—practically yearn for it and squeeze him around the neck all the harder when he subverts your expectations, doing no more than letting you grind your heat against the base of his shaft.

“John—John, please,” you beg, mindless for what. You don’t know what you’re asking for.

“What d’ya need, darlin’?” he asks into your mouth, stealing your answer with another kiss.

You fall under the swell of another wave. When the root of his cock glides over your clit, your core clenches on nothing, a sob half-bitten off in your mouth, ripped from your chest.

It doesn’t matter how close to him you get—he gives you nothing. The heat could very well burn you from the inside out. Cold water caresses your skin as it flows past, but the center of you runs so hot that you hardly notice it.

When he hikes you higher up against his chest, you clench your fingers in his hair, whining when he takes your nipple into his mouth. Your gasp comes out sharp and hurt when the coarse bristles of his beard rub rough against your breast. He sucks at your breast tender at first, gentle, eyes half-lidded like his mind has gone somewhere else, but there’s a glint in his eye that grows wild and dark, that turns him rough. You don’t know what to do except shake and let him use you how he wants.

Desperation nips at your heels, urging you up the length of him. If you had more nerve, you’d reach down and grasp him under the water, notch the head of his member against your sex and sink right down on him. You need him like you've never needed anything before. Every part of you aflame, searing hot under the sun at its highest point; right overhead, right on top of you.

His teeth sink delicately into your areola, tongue lapping over your nipple to soothe the hurt, and suddenly, you break.

“Please—” you gasp, wrenching his mouth away from your breast and whimpering when he resists at first, glaring up at you like he might bite. “Please, John—I can’t take it. I need you.”

His eyes darken, the pupil swallowing everything up. “Need me where, wife? Here?”

A hand dips between your thighs, pointer finger gliding over your sex, plump with blood. So tender that your mouth hangs open on a whine when he touches you.

“Y-yes,” you whimper, gaze swimming.

John’s breath comes out in a harsh, ragged pant. Completely undone in a way you’ve never seen before. “Get out, darlin’. I’m taking you home. Gonna give you what you need.”

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #price/reader #john price/reader #price x reader #price x you #john price x reader #john price

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pure-smut · 5 months ago

Text

addicted.

featuring: Ryomen Sukuna x f!reader

contains: college!Sukuna, groping on public transport (exhibitionism maybe??), a smidge dubcon, orgasm denial, missionary, mating press, size k*nk, Sukuna is a stalker and super possessive/toxic, unprotected s*x

word count: 2.6k

note: all characters are aged up to 21+!

MDNI | 18+ content

series: 1. infatuated | 2. obsessed | 3. addicted | 4. toxic | 5. feral

masterlist

a/n: thank you so much for all the love this series has gotten!! kinda feel like this maybe isn't the end?? idk i feel like sukuna's got more tricks up his sleeve so lmk if you'd like to see more~

It’s been a few days since you had that wet dream about Ryomen Sukuna and you still can’t get it out of your head.

Weird enough that it had come completely out of the blue – it’s not like you’d really thought about him since you slept together – but it was so vivid. The feel of his tongue on your throbbing clit, broad and deft as he made you cum on his tongue.

You shudder, growing wetter even as you remember it.

You’d seen him around campus a few times but despite his usual intense look, he hadn’t acted any different to before. You didn’t mind – despite being a great night, you knew Sukuna was a fuckboy through and through. You have no interest in spending more time than necessary with a guy who couldn’t give a shit about you.

So, you’d ignored him back.

Except for that wet dream.

You shake your head, trying to rid yourself of the memory, wrapping your arms around yourself. You’re at the train station, waiting with a thick crowd of commuters as you wait on your train home. You usually leave class a bit later than everyone else, staying behind to study, specifically so you could avoid the crush of people at rush hour. But today, your textbooks were getting delivered and the timeslot was less than convenient, forcing you to rush home with everyone else.

You try to make yourself small as the train arrives and you’re swept up with the crowd.

Everyone files on quietly, squishing themselves into the cramped space. You mumble a few apologies as you press into the commuters around you, finding a corner that you can face, hugging your bag to your chest. The train shudders as it starts up but you’re so crushed into the corner, you don’t even sway at it moves. You sigh heavily. It’s going to be a long journey home.

You start to zone out, wishing you’d thought to bring your earphones so you could at least listen to some music. When you feel a hand on your hip, you don’t even register it, assuming it’s someone in the crowd squeezing past. It’s only when you feel hot breath on the top of your head and the hand slides lower, touching your bare thigh, that you jolt.

You try to turn around but you’re pressed into the corner, not able to move. You heart hammers in your chest, your breath catching. Some random pervert is feeling you up!

What do I do?! You think to yourself, panicked.

And then you hear him.

“Relax, baby.” Sukuna’s voice is low so only you can hear, his mouth against the shell of your ear.

You freeze.

“S…Sukuna?!” you squeak.

“Shh,” he hushes you, his thumb tracing circles on your thigh. “Keep quiet for me, angel.”

You risk a quick glance behind you, but Sukuna’s large frame covers you completely, blocking you from view. You twist your neck to look up and see him grinning down at you.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hi,” you say back, blinking. “What are you-?”

Before you can even ask, he’s answered you. Sukuna’s hand moves up your thigh and under your skirt, cupping your panty-clad pussy. You gasp and Sukuna tuts in your ear.

“Be quiet, remember?” he says firmly.

You swallow hard, your throat suddenly dry, but give a small nod. Despite the absurdity of the situation, a weird thrill runs up your spine at how brazen he is. You’re in public. Anyone could see. The train rocks on the tracks and Sukuna takes the opportunity to slip his fingers under your panties.

You bite back a gasp.

“Good girl,” Sukuna purrs.

He starts to stroke small circles around your clit, already slippery with your arousal. Your body responds to him on instinct and you spread your thighs slightly, allowing him more access.

The train stutters to a halt. You remain rooted to the spot, unmoving, as people file off and on the train. Thankfully, it remains full to the brim, so no one notices Sukuna groping you in the corner. You only breathe when the train starts moving again.

“Tell me something,” Sukuna says lowly. “Who were you speaking to earlier?”

Your mind is foggy with lust, too focussed on his fingers playing with your pussy in public. You blink several times, trying to understand his question.

“Um…” You falter as he applies more pressure, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. “W-who?”

Sukuna growls in your ear and he pulls his fingers away. You fight the urge to whine, your clit still needy.

“Don’t play dumb.” His voice is quiet enough for only you to hear but has a dangerous undercurrent. “That white-haired jackass.”

You furrow your brow, confused. You had bumped into one of your classmates earlier outside your work and had ended up chatting to him for maybe ten minutes. But how did Sukuna know about that? And why was he angry?

You’re jolted from your thoughts as Sukuna lightly slaps your pussy.

“Well?”

“T-that was just a c-classmate,” you stammer out.

“You seemed awfully cosy with him.”

“How would you know?” you shoot back, a nugget of defiance forming in your chest. “And why do you even care?”

“I care,” Sukuna whispers in your ear and it sounds more like a threat than reassurance. “I care a lot.”

Your breath catches in your chest as Sukuna’s fingers return to your puffy clit, stroking it again. You nearly groan but bite your lip to contain it.

“Does he get to do this to you?” Sukuna asks. “Does anyone but me get to touch you like this?”

“N-no. Of course not.” You’re trying to keep the waver out of your voice but the way he’s rubbing your sensitive bud is making your knees weak.

His deft fingers quickly bring you to the brink. You press your back against his hard stomach and chest, stifling your moans as Sukuna dips a finger between your folds to gather more of your slick. You tilt your head back, resting it against his chest as your breathing turns ragged. You’re nearly there. You’re so close.

And then Sukuna pulls his hand away, withdrawing out from under your skirt completely.

“What…” you puff out, frustration and surprise colouring your cheeks.

Before you can twist your head to ask him what he thinks he’s doing, Sukuna intertwines his fingers with yours. As the train stutters to the next stop, he pushes through the crowd like a battering ram, pulling you by your hand behind him.

“Where are we going?” you protest. “I don’t live at this stop.”

“I do.”

Sukuna drags you out of the station but once you’re free of the rush hour crowds, he slows his pace, letting you walk in step beside him. You notice he doesn’t drop your hand.

You open your mouth several times to ask what he’s doing but the answer is obvious. He wants to fuck. Why, is the bigger question. Why when he could have any girl he wants, at least for a night. So that's what you ask him.

“Why me?”

Sukuna brings you to his front door, an eyebrow cocked as he pulls his keys free.

“What kind of a question is that?” He rolls his eyes.

“Why do you want me?” you insist.

Sukuna sighs, slotting in his keys and opening the front door. He drags you in, slamming the door closed before pushing you against it.

“Because you’re mine,” he states plainly.

Mine.

The word echoes in your mind as Sukuna dips his head to kiss you roughly. His lips part yours, his tongue demanding entrance. You open yourself to him as he grabs you loosely by the throat.

“You’ve been making me wait,” Sukuna groans into your mouth. “You’ve been testing my patience.”

Before you can question him, he scoops his large hands under your ass and picks you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around him.

“You’re not working tomorrow,” he says, almost a question but not quite.

“How do you know that?”

“Yes or no?” he ignores you, carrying you through the hall and into his bedroom.

“N-no.”

“Good. We’re not leaving this house for two days.”

Sukuna doesn’t ask you. He tells you.

He throws you on the bed before lying on top of you, pressing his mouth against yours to swallow any protests. His hand tangles in your hair at the back of your head, cradling your skull against his palm. His lips are soft even as his kisses are rough, teeth nipping at your bottom lip. Between his prolonged teasing on the train and his annoyingly good kisses, you feel your thighs growing slick with how turned on you are.

You snake a hand to the back of his neck, fingers gliding through his soft, pink hair. Sukuna grinds his crotch against yours, the friction making your clit throb. You whine with need.

“Let me cum,” you beg. “You got me so close before.”

“Say it again.”

“Let me cum, Sukuna.”

“Again.”

“Please! Please let me cum, Sukuna.”

He pulls back to grin at you.

“That’s all you had to say, angel.”

Sukuna reaches down to undo his jeans, pulling his cock free. You know he’s big, the memory of working it inside you still imprinted on your mind, but seeing it in person again makes your eyes widen.

“You were too tight last time, baby,” Sukuna coos, stroking himself. “Need to loosen you up first.”

Sukuna moves his hand from his cock to your clit, resuming his previous tight circles. Your back arches and your nails sink into the hard muscles of his shoulders. Sukuna uses his other hand to tug your shirt up, exposing your breasts. Still playing with your pussy, he latches his lips around one of your nipples, sucking and nibbling at it.

“Ah!” you whimper, the combined sensations overcoming you.

Sukuna feels you wriggling beneath him and pins you down at your hip, forcing you to stay in position. Your breathing gets short as you squeeze your eyes shut, your orgasm hitting you like a freight train.

You cry out Sukuna’s name as he makes you cum on his fingers, finally fulfilling the promise his touch made on the train. Sukuna talks you through it, his cock responding to the sweet noises you make because of him. With a satisfied smile, he pulls his hand back.

You collapse back onto the bed, dazed, as the head of Sukuna’s hard cock nudges at your entrance.

“Keep your legs spread for me, baby,” he commands. “There’s a good girl.”

Still coming down from the high of your orgasm, you’re pliant and obedient. You push your thighs apart, resting them on the cut of Sukuna’s hip muscles as he leans forward over you. Sukuna’s fat mushroom tip meets your hole and then slowly, so slowly, he pushes it inside you.

Your breath hitches, your brows scrunching up in the middle. You look down to see him splitting you in half, his cock stretching you so deliciously.

“Ah-!” you gasp. “Fuck, it’s so big…”

Sukuna doesn’t stop himself from grinning. He’s never been on top before, never thought anyone could take him like this. But he knows you can. And he’s willing to be patient for it.

Your pussy is slick and relaxed from your orgasm, stretching to accommodate Sukuna as he sinks himself another few inches inside you. He’s only halfway but the feel of your walls pulsing around him is setting his skin on fire. He grits his teeth and pulls back slightly, fucking you with a few shallow pumps to spread your juices along his cock.

You feel heavenly. He could cum just like this but he knows you can do more. He can wait.

Sukuna pulls your legs up, hooking your ankles over his shoulders so he can go deeper. He presses himself further, your welcoming pussy swallowing another few inches, your lips wrapping around him so tight.

You fist the bedsheets next to you, his cock rubbing against every nerve along your walls.

“S-Sukuna!” you cry out.

“You can take it, baby,” he soothes you, holding himself agonisingly still to let you get used to him. “You did before.”

You know he’s right – in fact, you made a point of taking his entire cock last time, just to spite him. And you don’t want him to stop, not really. You’ve never been with anyone who’s reached so deep inside you before. It feels strangely intimate, this secret thing that you only share with Sukuna.

Sukuna waits until you stop squirming before moving again. He’s so close, only an inch or two left. He thrusts in and out a few more times, drawing another whimper from your lips, before sinking in fully.

The front of his thighs meet the back of your ass, pressed together as he leans some of his weight down on you. Your lips fall open, a million curses waiting at the back of your throat, but all you can think is – you feel so full.

“Your pussy was made for me,” Sukuna groans, teeth gritted.

That’s exactly how you feel. He fits so snugly inside you, so tight and stretched, the thick ridges of his cock dragging so perfectly along your plush walls. Sukuna starts to thrust, keeping himself deep, never wanting to leave the warmth of you for long, and every stroke sends you hurtling towards another orgasm.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Sukuna’s eyes are glued on where your bodies meet, at where his girth slides in and out of you, coated in your juices.

He’s addicted to the way you sound, the lewd squelch of your pussy, the desperate moans from your lips. He’s obsessed with the feel of you around him, swallowing him whole. He’s infatuated with how you look, folded beneath him as he fucks you, your face contorted in the pleasure he’s giving you. Beautiful. Perfect.

He is never letting you go.

Sukuna picks up his pace, hips rolling. Your bodies are both coated in a thin sheen of sweat, the sounds of slapping flesh filling the room.

“You’re mine,” Sukuna growls. “Say it back to me.”

You’re delirious, drunk off the feel of his cock pistoning in and out of you. When you look up at him, your eyes are half-lidded and glazed.

“I’m yours,” you breathe.

“You going to ignore me again?”

Sukuna punctuated each syllable with another brutal snap of his hips. You cry out, so close to cumming even as your pussy aches.

“No!” you sob. “Never.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’m yours, Sukuna. I belong to you!”

“Good fucking girl.”

Sukuna leans down further to kiss you roughly, his tongue lapping at yours without breaking pace. His cock rubs against just the right spot and you dive headfirst into another orgasm.

Sukuna feels you cream on his cock, your pussy like a vice grip around him. It’s enough to bring him to his own finish. He tips his head back, a flurry of curses falling from his lips as you feel him spill thick ropes of cum inside you.

Your thighs fall to either side of him as Sukuna half-collapses on top of you, chest heaving. You hold him to you, pressing soft kisses against his neck.

“Sukuna…” you say quietly, unsure.

He rolls over to the side of you, pulling you with him so you’re lying tucked into the side of him, your cheek pressed against his chest.

“I meant it,” Sukuna says, seeming to understand you even without you asking. “You’re mine.”

He looks down at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“And I’m yours. Always.”

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7s3ven · 11 months ago

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NOBODY’S SON, NOBODY’S DAUGHTER. luke (pjo) pt 1

PART 1 > PART 2 > PART 3 > PART 4 (last pt)

( master list )

IN WHICH… Y/N L/N, after spending a decade at Camp Half-Blood, still remains unclaimed. Luckily, Luke is there to keep her company as her good friend. And to, perhaps, provide a bit more.

“I’m in the wind, you’re in the water. Nobody’s son, nobody’s daughter.”

( follows the show - kind of just a oneshot bc i’m bored )

Warnings : fighting, violence, a little too much of a description about injuries

—

Nobody had been this excited about a new kid since three years ago, when a H/C-haired girl showed up holding a Harpy’s head. The new arrival had slain a Minotaur, which Clarisse wasn’t too happy about. She was convinced he was a liar.

Y/N sat in the Hermes cabin, closely inspecting her empty juice box. She had waken up an hour ago yet her good friend, Luke, still woke up earlier. She always wondered where he went in the early morning. Perhaps to get some sword training in before the day started. He was, after all, the best swordsman in camp.

The rays of sun poured through the window, bathing the wooden floor in light. A few of the Hermes kids groaned, knowing Luke would burst through the doors any second and force them to get up. He always did when the sun rose.

As expected, Luke kicked the door open. “Good morning!” He exclaimed, as energetic as ever. “The new kid’s coming today so get up and start cleaning! I’m mainly talking to you guys.” Luke sent the group in the corner a stern look and added, “Y/N, you’re fine.” He pointed at her with his usual boyish grin.

Lately, Y/N had been sleeping in Luke’s bed while he slept on the floor. They took turns switching. Lying on the ground for more than a decade now wasn’t good for the back.

After all this time, Y/N was still unclaimed. It usually took a week or less. Y/N was a prime example of the Gods above ignoring their children.

“He’s the one who killed the Minotaur, right?” Y/N questioned as Luke collapsed onto his mattress, partly to annoy Y/N who was sitting on it. The H/C-haired girl scoffed and playfully rolled her eyes, yet she couldn’t contain the amused smile on her face.

“Yeah. He can join your little monster slaying group. Let’s hope he gets claimed because I can’t deal with a boy version of you.” Luke teasingly grinned while Y/N scoffed and slapped his shoulder.

“You love my company.” She uttered, rolling her eyes.

Luke’s friends snickered to themselves. “More like he loves you.” One whispered to another.

“What’s his name again?” Y/N asked, tilting her head to the side. “Was it… Tom?” Luke stared at her in disbelief before lightly snorting.

“You’re way off, Y/N. Stop thinking, you’ll hurt that tiny brain of your’s. Just do what you do best; sit still and look cute.” Luke ruffled her tidy hair, turning it into a bird’s nest again.

Y/N flung a pillow at him, and glowered at the Hermes boy. “I’m going to kick your ass in capture the flag.” She threatened, poking his shoulder. Clarisse, out of all people, was her best friend. So naturally, she teamed up with her.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, princess.” Luke lightly shoved her which caused Y/N to gasp in disbelief.

“Don’t push a lady, Luke!”

The other campers, already used to their antics, just chuckled. “Hey, love birds!” One of the unclaimed kids exclaimed. “Get a room!” With her smart she was, Y/N assumed she was Athena’s child.

Y/N and Luke liked to play a silly game where they guessed which camper belonged to which godly parent. It was fun. Luke was never wrong until the day he tried to guess Y/N’s.

A year ago, he guessed Aphrodite. His explanation? Because she was charming and she had a certain aura that followed her. And because she was pretty. That was the only time he was wrong because Y/N never ended up in a cabin.

“So, what do you think of the new kid? Which cabin?” Y/N asked as she and Luke walked outside. He shoved his hands into his pockets, laughing.

“Tough call. I haven’t even met him yet. Apollo, maybe?” Luke shrugged and frowned. “I’ll tell ya my guess when I see him.”

“I’m guessing… Poseidon.” Y/N uttered, earning a light snort from Luke.

“No way. Is that your confirmed guess? Being a child of Poseidon would mean being a forbidden child.”

The game had a few rules.

One. You can only take a single guess and once you confirm it, you can’t change it.

Two. You can’t ask the kid you’re talking about. Luke considers that cheating. You can only observe them.

Three. No asking Annabeth because she’s always right.

“I guess. It’s not like I ever win, right?” Y/N laughed, grinning at Luke. He stared at her for a moment before returning her bright smile.

“I know we don’t usually make bets, but if your guess turns out right, I’ll willingly give up in the next capture the flag game after he’s claimed.” Luke puffed out his chest, certain Y/N wouldn’t win.

“And if you win?” She asked, arching an eyebrow.

“You give me your strawberries.” Luke had an obsession with strawberries that everybody, even the gods above, knew about.

“You’re on, Luke.” Y/N held out her hand with her lips curved up into a teasing smirk.

“Good luck, princess. Looks like I’ll be taking all your strawberries.” Luke ran his tongue over his teeth, already being able to taste the sweet, red fruit in his mouth.

He walked off, playfully winking at Y/N. Clarisse, who saw the whole conversation go down, hurried over to Y/N. “Looks like you and lover boy have a bet going in.” She smirked, raising both her eyebrows. “You two are cute together.”

“Don’t mess with me, Clari. We’re just friends.” Y/N rolled her eyes at what her friend was suggesting. She had been friends with Luke for three years now and she had known him for even longer.

“Are you just friends… or you want to be more?” Clarisse leaned forward with that taunting glint in her beautiful eyes. Y/N groaned, shoving her away. Clarisse simply laughed. “Come on, princess.” She mocked.

“Oh, come on, Risse.” That was a horrid nickname given to Clarisse by an Apollo boy who seemed to be obsessed with her.

“Shut up!” Clarisse exclaimed, eyeing Y/N up and down in disgust as if she was the Apollo boy. “You know how I feel about him!”

“And you know how I feel about Luke.”

“Yeah… but do you?” Clarisse tilted her head to the side before her gaze flickered to something, or rather someone, behind Y/N. “The Minotaur kid is out.” She grumbled and sharply clicked her tongue.

“Great. I can see if my stupid guess was correct.” Y/N glanced over her shoulder, watching the boy walk beside Chiron. His hair was curled, much like Luke’s, and blond. Clarisse had wandered off in the midst of Y/N’s staring, but she didn’t mind.

Suddenly, the boy lifted his head. His eyes clashed with Y/N’s, and he almost jumped at how intensely she was staring at him. Y/N merely smiled before turning away.

“So, what do you think?” She asked Luke as they walked towards the Hermes cabin side by side, their shoulders brushing against each other.

“Hard to say for now.” Luke replied. Y/N looked at him and he stared back before the pair burst into quiet laughter. Just locking eyes could make two friends find anything hilarious.

“I assume you’ll take him under your wing? Good luck.” Y/N nudged him with her elbow, which seemed to be a normal gesture between them.

“Thanks, princess. See ya.”

Y/N turned around, almost crashing into a disoriented Percy Jackson. He seemed jumpy and panicked. Of course, how couldn’t he be? He had just unknowingly killed a monster and his mother had been taken.

“Hi. The first day is always rough. Don’t beat yourself up about it.” Y/N muttered to him before she passed by.

She didn’t stick around to hear Chiron announce him. She sighed, wandering aimlessly around the camp. She saw Clarisse talking to her siblings. Y/N had always wondered what it was like to have siblings you could relate to. What did it feel like to understand each other? To go through the same difficulties?

The Hermes cabin was comfortable and friendly enough but it wasn’t the same. She wanted to feel what a true family felt like, or at least was supposed to.

As Y/N had expected, Luke was the first to talk to Percy.

“I’m Luke.” He introduced himself to the boy after the rocky start to their conversation.

“Percy. Hey, uh, who was that girl before? The H/C-haired one?” He questioned, clearing his throat.

“Y/N. She’s nice most of the time the time but a pain in the ass during capture the flag.” Luke chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah. I’m just kidding. Don’t tell her I said that, though.”

“You guys seem close.” Percy uttered, remembering the way Luke looked at Y/N when they talked.

“Yeah. She’s my best friend. Unfortunately for me, her best friend is an aggressive Ares kid.” He grinned, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “Feel free to lie down anywhere. Just don’t get too close to Y/N. If she’s having a monster dream, she kicks in her sleep.”

One of the campers across the cabin groaned. “I know how that feels. The bruise lasted for weeks!” The others burst into laughter while Percy hurriedly made a mental note.

Avoid the pretty girl when she sleeps.

Percy was lucky that Y/N, who lay on the floor a few feet away from him, wasn’t having one of her infamous nightmares. He couldn’t say the same for himself, though.

Percy sat up, panting and sweating. He looked around, realising where he was. Birds chirped in the distant and he could hear the faint sound of chatter through the wooden walls.

“You okay?” Luke asked.

“Super.” Percy sarcastically responded.

“We all have them here, you know.” Luke clicked his tongue and sighed. “Intense, reoccurring nightmares. That’s normal here. Take Y/N for example. When she first came here, no one wanted to get near her while she slept. Girl’s a bloody good kicker.”

Percy lightly chuckled while Luke smiled. “The daydreams and ADHA and dyslexia are normal too. Demigods just process reality differently than humans do. For the first time in your life, you’re just like everyone else.”

“So, are you also…” Percy trailed off, not wanting to sound rude to his first friend at camp.

Luke found his hesitation amusing. “Am I unclaimed? No. Hermes is my father.”

“And Y/N? Is her father also Hermes?”

Luke scrunched up his face like he had just eaten a sour lemon. “Oh, no. Heck no. Y/N’s unclaimed… still. She has been for a while.” The brunette pressed his lips into a thin line as he gazed at Y/N, who was laughing with Clarisse.

“Why hasn’t Aphrodite claimed her? I mean, she looks the part.”

“That’s what we’re all asking ourselves. We all thought she’d be Aphrodite’s kid.”

Boys and girls flocked towards Y/N like she was a muse. It was no secret that out of all the campers, Y/N stood out the most. There was something unique about her, how she always hung around the aggressive Ares kids like she wanted to be one of them.

She was a tough opponent but a little too soft for Ares’ liking.

Too gentle for Ares but too angry for Aphrodite. She was constantly stuck in the middle. It almost seemed like no god or goddess wanted her in their cabin because she had proved herself over and over again.

“How long has she been unclaimed?” Percy inquired. Kids before him had asked that very same question and every time, they were never ready for the answer.

“A decade.” Luke replied, “She’s been here for a decade. Last year, there was a stupid rumour going around that she was fully mortal but that doesn’t make sense. If she was, she wouldn’t be here in the first place.”

“Why so long?”

“Nobody knows.” Luke shrugged. He had wondered that too. And he could see how it was weighing down on Y/N. The unclaimed kid was what campers referred to her as. They used her as an example of what not to do.

“Will she ever get claimed?”

Luke hoped she would. For her sake. He knew how she felt about not having a related family of her own. For now, she was satisfied laughing over silly tales with the Hermes kids.

“So, where does she go during the day? She disappeared yesterday and today.” Percy tilted his head to the side, not being able to spot Y/N anymore. Luke paused. It was uncommon for him to not have an answer to everything.

“I… don’t know. I assume Clarisse and her go somewhere.”

“Probably swimming in the lake.” Grover said, overhearing the two’s conversation.

It was scorching during Summer at Camp Half-Blood. Most stayed in the shade while an occasional kid or two tended to the plants. So it would make sense that Y/N would go to a lake to cool off.

Luke left Percy in the company of Grover and made his way towards the Lake in the middle of the forest. As Grover guessed, he found Y/N and Clarisse and a few other Ares kids swimming in the water or sitting on the nearby rocks.

“Hey, Y/N, your lover boy is here!” One of them exclaimed. Y/N, from her spot in the middle of the lake, glared at him. She huffed before swimming over to Luke, easily heaving herself onto shore.

“Hey, Luke, ready to make your guess yet?” She asked, grinning up at him. “Or do you wanna swim?”

“My guess is definitely not Hephaestus.” Luke said as he sat down in front of Y/N. His gaze flickered to her new swimsuit. “New bathing suit?”

“Yeah. Miya got it for me.” Miya was a child of Aphrodite and favored Y/N quite a lot.

“Ah. No wonder it’s so…” Luke hesitated, “Revealing.” He tried to act like a gentleman but his cheeks flushed every time he even looked at Y/N.

“One more day until I kick your ass.” Y/N laughed as she sank back into the water, returning a moment later with her hair dripping wet and her face shining in the sunlight. She looked effortlessly angelic.

“Are you sure you’re ready to handle Y/N again, Luke? She almost beat you last time.” Clarisse snickered as she floated on her back.

Luke scoffed. “Keyword. Almost.” It was true that Y/N had almost beaten him in his own game of sword fighting but that was because she was becoming increasingly more distracting.

Gone was the shy and quiet kid who always trailed behind Clarisse. With every passing year, Y/N became more headstrong and, well, beautiful. That’s why it was so hard for Luke to keep his feelings to himself now. Even Clarisse could see through his facade.

“I’m ready to make my guess.” Luke finally announced, catching Y/N’s wavering attention. She arched an eyebrow, intrigued. “My guess… is Demeter. I met the kid and he seems gentle. A soft and kind soul.”

“Nice. I guess we’ll find out soon.” Y/N’s guess was nothing but a joke and she’d end up laughing if she was actually correct.

“Join me for a little swim?” Y/N asked, reaching out to tug on Luke’s shirt. He sighed while Y/N merely smiled. A moment later, he gave in. Luke lifted his shirt over his head while Y/N stared at him a little too shamelessly for her liking. Some of the Ares boys teasingly wolf-whistled which made Luke chuckle.

He jumped into the lake, practically tackling Y/N and taking her under with him. “Luke!” She yelled, hitting his shoulder when they resurfaced.

“Oh no. The married couple is fighting again.” Zyra, Clarisse’s half-sister, said. She and Clarisse shared a knowing grin.

“They’re so whipped.” Clarisse whispered, subtly swimming away to give the two more space.

It was the day Y/N had eagerly been waiting for. Perhaps her favourite day at Camp. Capture the flag day.

Clarisse handed Y/N a spear. “I got it fixed for you.” The brunette said. During the last game, Y/N’s spear had broken. She was forced to fight with half of it after that.

Y/N adjusted Clarisse’s armour, ensuring that it was tight enough before putting on her own helmet.

“You’re gonna love this.” She overhead Luke say to Percy as they passed by. “Camp-wide mock warfare. All glory to the victors. Annabeth’s the head counsellor. She’s led our team to three straight wins.”

Y/N looked away, giving Luke the perfect chance to gaze over at her. “Y/N and Clarisse lead the other team. Clarisse is rather… impulsive, though. Y/N’s come up with some good plans but Ares kids always go off the rails.”

“What’s the deal with you and Y/N anyway?” Percy suddenly switched the topic, much to Luke’s surprise. “I mean, you guys say you’re just friends but you’re always looking at each other. And talking. And you stare at her like she’s your world. Sometimes I wish I could look at someone like that.” Percy sighed while Luke was left speechless.

Luke cleared his throat and shook his head. “Let’s just… focus on the game.”

The conch shell blew. Y/N stood side Clarisse, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “Heroes, it’s time.” Chiron announced. “The game begins. The first team to retrieve the opposing flag and return it across the river shall be the victor. As always, there will be no maiming and no killing. I trust these rules will be respected.”

He subtly glanced over at Clarisse and her cabin.

“Let the games begin.”

There was twenty minutes until the next conch shell, which meant game-on. Normally, Clarisse and Y/N would pair up and hunt through the woods for the first few hours. But Clarisse had a different idea this time.

“Good luck.” Y/N said to her friend, slinging her spear over her shoulder. Y/N split up with the rest of her team, taking with her small portion of campers.

“We follow Clarisse’s plan this time. We’re the last defense meaning that if the blue team manages to get through, we fight like our lives depend on it.” Y/N said as she gripped her spear tightly.

“What are going to do?” Someone else asked.

“I’m going to…. look around.”

Luke grunted as a sword piercing his upper arm. He easily disarmed his opponent and kicked them to the ground.

“We give up.” The red leader grumbled, wincing as their brushed their fingers over his cuts.

“I wanna move quick. Straight through the woods for their flag.” Luke uttered.

“Y/N and Clarisse hunt in those woods for the first few hours, you know that. They’ll cut us down.”

Luke grinned, shaking his head. “Annabeth has a plan for Clarisse. And Y/N, as always, is mine. Don’t worry about her.”

“Last time I didn’t worry about her, she almost chopped my head off. By accident!” Chris loudly exclaimed, shoving Luke. Unbeknownst to the pair, Y/N was watching from above in the trees, hidden by the thick leaves.

She skilfully hopped from branch to branch, sliding down in front of her teammates. “The blue team is coming. They got past the other defences. Get in position.” Y/N hid behind a thick tree branch, panting and listening carefully for the sound of Luke’s voice.

She heard a twig snap and peeked her head out slightly to see Luke, Chris, and the rest of their small team. Y/N looked up, signalling to her friends above that it was almost time.

The moment Luke, who was leading the pack, stepped right where Y/N wanted him, she revealed herself. “Now!” She shouted, raising her spear and striking Luke. He easily blocked her attack.

“Thought you could ambush us, princess? Nice try.” Luke chuckled, pushing Y/N back.

“I’d say that it worked just fine.” Y/N retorted, lunging at Luke again. She pinned him to a nearby tree, holding the blade of her spear to his throat.

Chris grabbed Y/N by her shirt, pulling her back. Luke swung his sword at her but Y/N simply ducked to avoid the blow.

She tried to run off to help her teammates but Luke blocked her path. “Where do you think you’re going?” He uttered, playfully furrowing his eyebrows.

Y/N scoffed, kicking his ankles. She pointed at spear at his chest, poking it ever so slightly. “Ready to give up, Luke?”

“In your dreams.” He rolled over, latching onto Y/N’s arm and pulling her down with him. Y/N yelped, quickly scrambling up before he could grab her again.

She looked around at her surroundings, finally understanding what Luke’s plan was. It was to keep Y/N away from her team so that Luke’s could take them down. That left Y/N solely alone, standing between the flag and the blue team.

She panted, glaring at Luke. “Bring it on, Luke.” She muttered, holding up her spear. Luke was the first to make a move. He jumped at her, swinging his blade. Y/N dodged it and blocked another attack from Chris.

She quickly lowered her head, tackling another Hermes kid. Y/N rolled across the floor, swiftly standing up. “You won’t be getting near that flag on my watch.” She kicked Luke and whacked Chris. One of the Athena girls launched herself at Y/N, gripping onto her leg.

Y/N shook her off but the girl’s weight caused her to topple over. The bits of debris grazed at her skin. Chris swung his sword, slashing at Y/N. The blade cut her lower arm and blood welled up from the slit.

Quietly groaning, Y/N heaved herself up. She lightly swayed, unbalanced and a little weak. “Like I said,” She murmured, “You aren’t getting that flag.”

Y/N blocked every attack and blow aimed her way but she was getting slow. She could barely lift her weapon fast enough to stop Luke from successfully landing a hit.

Everything was becoming too overwhelming as she struggled to keep up. It was all a fast blur filled with weapons violently clashing against each other and shouting.

Up above, thunder crashed and lightning flickered through the darkening sky. Rain poured down, drenching the campers.

The thunder got louder and the lightning brighter as the seconds passed until nobody could ignore it. A harsh flash of lightning hit a tree nearby, setting it alight.

“Y/N, watch out!” Luke shouted, reaching out. Strings of electricity rippled around Y/N as a burning tree branch fell towards her. Luke sprinted towards her, dropping his sword in the process. He tackled Y/N, shielding her from harm’s way.

She groaned as she hit her head, black dots swirling around in her vision. She felt numb and her head lolled to the side as she heard shouts of victory followed by gasps of surprise.

“Y/N L/N has been claimed by Zeus, the king of Gods and the God of thunder and ruler of the sky.”

#percy jackson series #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #luke castellan x you #one shot #percy jackson fanfiction #demigods #romance #zeus #greek mythology #roman mythology #annabeth chase #grover underwood

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yawnderu · 1 year ago

Text

K-9 — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Chapter IV

Sick as a dog, and just as vicious.

1 2 3 4 5

What's a Lieutenant if not someone you can use as a stress reliever

Being a gifted medic comes with free rewards

You weren't the only one catching up on some sleep. Simon was awake throughout Johnny's entire surgery despite having slept four hours the previous night, wanting to be available in case you needed his help, finally getting some much-needed rest after being practically forced by Price.

He wakes up six hours later, a small groan escaping his lips at the light entering his window. His burly arm comes up to cover his eyes, shielding them from the bright sun.

''Fuckin' hell.'' He muttered, getting up from bed and putting on a black balaclava. Shit went down yesterday, with Johnny almost dying, and Makarov is now free, able to continue killing civilians until they're finally able to catch him. At the very least, his best friend is alive and stable last time he visited.

Simon leaves his room, walking to the cafeteria to get a bottle of cold water and a few granola bars before heading to your quarters, knocking on the door softly in case you're asleep. No reply. He knows better, but... what if something happened to you? He uses the pathetic excuse to justify his actions, hand turning the doorknob carefully before stepping inside, footsteps surprisingly quiet for someone his size.

What a fucking sight. He stared at your sleeping figure for a while, taking in the details of your face when it wasn't pulled into a scowl or a bored expression, a small smile tugging on his lips at how peaceful you look before he realized how creepy he was being. He shook his head softly as if to snap out of it, putting the water bottle and granola bars before turning away to try and leave.

Try, because a much smaller hand wrapped around his wrist, almost making him flinch because of how sudden it was. He looks down at you only to find your eyes boring into his, tugging him closer by the wrist. A confused Simon followed like a lost dog before his feet rooted on the ground in front of your bed, giving you a questioning look with his eyes.

''Come lay with me.'' Your voice is much gentler than usual, laced with something he can't quite recognize yet. Simon knows better, really he does, but who is he to question the medic he's been pining on for months? He hesitantly removes his boots and climbs into bed with you, keeping a respectful distance despite his behemoth frame taking over half of the bed. His muscles tense up when he feels you cuddling up to him, being a painfully fitting piece against his body.

''What are you on bout, doc?'' You don't reply, simply examining his eyes for any hints of hesitation. You find nervousness, curiosity, doubt, and even the smallest hints of fear, but no hesitation at all. Your hand sneaks up to the bottom of his balaclava, pulling it all the way off before your lips crash into his hungrily. It takes him a few seconds of pure confusion before he kisses back, arms wrapped around your waist, and whatever questions he has on why you're doing this all of sudden pushed to the back of his mind.

Your hands grab at anything they can reach— muscle, skin, hair... anything, holding onto his much bigger body like a lifeline, his warm hands running up and down your back. He has fantasized about this moment so many times, yet the real thing is so different in a good way.

''Tell me I can touch you, bird.'' You simply nod your head and try to go back to kissing him, but he pulls away, gently squeezing your waist to make you look at him.

''Use your words.'' His words are almost pleading, wanting to make sure you want the same thing.

''I want you to touch me, Simon.'' Not a second passes before his lips are back on yours, tongues wrapping around each other's as his hands start to drift down, grabbing a handful of your ass. His touch is so desperate it almost makes you laugh, one of your hands sneaking down his shirt and feeling him up, defined muscles flexing under your touch. His slightly shaky hands fumble with the button of your jeans, breaking away from the kiss just to look at you and make sure you still want it. The half-lidded look you give him is enough confirmation, pulling down your jeans and getting on his knees, between your legs.

"Been wanting to do this since I saw ya." He confesses, too excited for his fantasies finally coming true to even feel remotely bashful about his words. He lifts up your shirt enough to reveal your tummy, gentle kisses planted on every single inch of skin his lips can reach as he slowly descends, planting open mouthed kisses over your clothed cunt.

"Fuck—" Your back arches at the feeling, eyes screwed shut as your hand goes to the back of his head, pushing him closer. His tongue is warm and wet, saliva mixing in with your growing arousal. He pushes your panties to the side, looking down at your gleaming pussy before digging in, tongue lapping the wetness before he latches onto your cunt, sucking and licking away like a starved man.

"You taste s'fucking good." He praises before going back down, the flat of his tongue moving around your cunt before slowly going inside, your whiny moans and hands gripping his short hair are all the encouragement he needs. He latches onto your clit next, long fingers teasing the entrance of your cunt, spreading your arousal all over them before he slowly enters you with one.

His fingers are thick and long, whiny moans escaping your lips as he adds a second one, making scissoring motions as he fucks his fingers deeper and deeper into you, tongue alternating between licking and sucking on your clit before hesitantly letting go.

"Sit on my face." It's not even a request, it sounds like a plea, though you quickly listen to his words for the first time ever, cunt hovering above his face as soon as he lays back down. He grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing the plush and pulling your body down to his face, eating you out like a starved man. His hands let go of your ass to unbuckle his belt, barely having the strength to pull his hard cock out of his jeans, eyes closing as he focused on the dual sensation of pleasuring you with his mouth and pleasuring himself with his hand, pre staining his fingers as his hand moves up and down his shaft faster.

"Fuck— Just like that, Si." Si. You never call him anything other than Simon. Sometimes Ghost, when you're needed during missions and hang around them in the helos, but the way you say his name... so much affection, even if it only comes from making you feel good. He's pathetic— God, he knows he's being pathetic, cock twitching in his hand at the idea of you reciprocating his complex and strange feelings for you, ropes of thick cum shooting out into his hand and stomach, a low growl coming out of his lips as he squeezed his cock dry of cum.

He focuses solely on you now, tongue swirling and flickering all over you, his clean hand coming up to rub your clit with his thumb while he assaults your dripping wet cunt with his lips and tongue. Your hands go down to his head, fingers pulling on his short hair while you use his face to feel good, getting closer and closer to the edge.

"Si, I'm gonna cum—" But he doesn't stop. Hell, his thumb moves even faster over your sensitive bud, tongue-fucking your pussy as deep as he can until he can feel your body shaking on top of him, thighs closing in on his head and squeezing as the intensity of your orgasm washes over you, his waiting mouth taking in all your juices, lapping at them greedily until you pull away from the stimulation, shaky legs managing to position yourself next to him, head against his chest.

"You hear that? Price is calling you." You lie, unable to contain the smirk on your lips as he flicks your nose.

"Piss off, doc." His burly arms wrap around you, a loud groan of protest escaping your lips when you realize you're forced to cuddle with him.

[PREVIOUS]

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marcsburnerphone · 2 months ago

Text

And they were roommates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: the captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: separation, flirtatious commentary, mentions of sex (lmk if anymore

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6- part 7 - part 8 - Part 9 - part 10 - part 11 - part 12 - part 13

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

“There’s our love stricken captain.” Gaz says as John finally appears through the heavy compound doors. As they all look at him it's very noticeable he’s in love, their captain looks well, the boys all assumed the bags under his eyes were permanent but looking at him they seem to be fully gone and all his features look brighter.

“Come on let's debrief.” is all he says while walking to his office, the three men immediately rise from where they were sitting and follow behind him.

“Pants looking extra snug captain.” soap mutters.

“Yeah it's called happiness son, ever heard of it?” John swifty jabs back, swinging the empty room door open.

“No, unfortunately I have not.”

“And stop looking at my ass.” John says while sliding manilla folders across the table as their hands each reach for one.

“Yeah Johnny, stop looking at the captain's ass.” gaz adds.

“I wasn't!” soap says flipping the folder open harshly.

“Back to business.” John says as he begins speaking through their plan of attack.

—------

“How’d the missus take it?” john likes the term simon uses to refer to you, gives him hope that one day you will be his Mrs.

“Good, at least that's what she made it seem like.” Simon reads right through the soft frown that covers his captain's face, it wasn’t easy for him.

“Did she cry?” Simon says as the both come to a halt scanning their access cards to the armory.

“A little, felt like a fucking bullet to the chest.”

“At least you know she actually likes you.” Simon was never good at comforting people but that outright made his captain laugh.

“Yeah at least, not like sharing moments of intimacy in our own world and exchanging words of endearment was enough.” John's smile creases at the side of his eyes as he lightly shoves Simon's shoulder.

—------------

Back at home you slept until late in the evening only waking up from your buzzing phone vibrating under your pillow. Not checking who it is because quite frankly you don't care, you press the phone to your ear with a sigh.

“Hello.”

“Doll?” you sit up looking at the name on your phone it’s an unidentified number then you realize immediately pressing it back to your ear.

“John!”

“Yeah, everything alright?” he worriedly replies.

“Yes I was just sleeping.” you say softly smiling tears already filling your eyes.

“Alone I hope.”

“Want a picture?” you say seductively.

“On this government issued phone? Absolutely.” He cracks a smile at the sound of your laugh, his task force stares at him like he’s a zoo animal, inspecting closely, especially the soldiers who don’t know him as anything apart from brutal.

“I'm actually calling to let you know I'll be on a helicopter for the next couple of hours and don’t know when I'll be able to contact you again.” he says, turning around to view the sunset, the same one he knows cascades your guys’ room in a beautiful shade of orange.

“Okay, stay safe, call me when you can, and I love you a lot and I don't even know what to say.” your charm travels through the phone like electricity and he just wants to kiss your face.

“I love you, keep safe till then. I left my card on top of the kitchen table for anything and everything. Please use it.” you sigh and he can practically see you shaking your head. He couldn’t promise his safety when he basically sold it once he began this occupation.

“John you slick man, you don't have to do things like that.” you say as the helicopter rotors start spinning.

“Yeah but I do, gotta go doll talk soon.”

“Bye hon.” With that he hears the click, biting the inside of his cheek as anxiety creeps its way up his neck, he’ll be far from you further than ever and can only pray for your safety instead of ensuring it and it makes him sick.

—-----------------

You moped, and good god was it humiliating, you'd been a single independent lady for years before meeting john but now it was like being put into an isolated home after living in new york city. There was nothing to do, you cleaned, cooked, painted but nothing was curing the pure ache of boredom and yearning.

The morning after his departure was single handedly the hardest, the weight of his body creased beside you, keeping you warm even in little clothes, his breathing that'd softly blow atop your head had not been there.

Still no call you disappointedly noticed when you hurriedly checked your phone when it had started buzzing, just a spam call you sigh rolling out of bed and heading to the bathroom.

“I should call my sister.” you say to yourself in the mirror with a small nod. Happily walking back to bed you dial the phone.

“Hey stranger, been a while.” she says with subtle amusement.

“It's been like four days?” you smile.

“That's a lifetime ago.”

“Want to come over, stay for a bit?” you ask for the first time in a long time.

“I don't kn-”

“Please.”

“Yeah, I'll try to catch the next train. Let me pack some clothes and I'll call you back.” when she hangs up you sigh in relief, nothing in this world could cure loneliness like spending time with her.

—------------

“So you’re trying to tell me YOU HAVEN'T HAD SEX!” soap exclaims.

“I didn’t say that I said I'm not disclosing my personal intimate life with you.” John says while huffing on a cigar tired of being in this goddamn helicopter with a four year old.

“Same thing.”

“Johnny shut up good grief.” Gaz says, rubbing his forehead in defeat when Johnny starts up again.

“You guys are so boring, how much time do we have left anyways.” he sighs out dramatically.

“An hour.” Simon replies.

“Oh so he speaks.” Johnny happily says looking at Simon with wide eyes waiting for a response. Pindrop silence overtakes the cabin.

“Or maybe he doesn’t.”

—-----------------------

thank you for the love and support <3

@beebeechaos @ttsbaby01 @arminarlertssword @quakeroaksguy @rafaelacallinybbay @bumblebeesfromvenus @glitterypirateduck @midnights-song @lovelythingsinternal @fruitymoonbeams-blog @kkaaaagt @kit-williams @enfppuff @kythefangirl25 @eviltheleon @here4thespice @dclore22 @raethethey @waves-against-a-cliff @novausstuff @darling006 @vampirekilmerfic @Dreams-of-qian-qian @spngingerbread21 @thepumpkinqueen93 @copiasratscheese @youdontknowe @spyderdoll @angels-gonna-play @viisgrave @lieutenantlashfaz @sunndust @beckythecatqueen-blog @aoioozora @o-birdseed-o @mothmothmothmothmothmoth @ihateuguys @oversensitivitea @spicyspicyliving @maladptivedaydreaming

#angst #captain price x female reader #john price #captain john price #john price x reader #task force 141 #barry sloane #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick

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laurfilijames · 4 months ago

Text

Breathe

Part 7

Pairing: Will 'Ironhead' Miller x female reader

Words: 6.9k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Trauma/PTSD/nightmares/insomnia. Unprotected intercourse.

Summary: Unanswered questions amp up every emotion that time does nothing to lessen, and so much uncertainty raises the concern if everything will turn out okay or if moving on is the only answer.

A/N: Less hurt than the last chapter, I promise! Thank you to everyone who was so enthusiastic and responsive to it and made all that angst worth writing!

Photo by @avatarskingdom and edited by me. Please do not use without permission or credit. Headers by the wonderful @spaghettificationandpretzels!

Chapter Playlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

---

You felt numb as much as you felt angry, scared and heartbroken.

It was all still so surreal, having to remind yourself constantly that Will broke up with you and was gone, the persistent sick feeling in your stomach growing with every thought of his life being at risk and that even though he was no longer yours, you might never see him again.

You did everything you could to understand his side of things, but with that your frustration increased wildly, the fact that he hadn't even given you the chance to be there for him stinging almost as much as him abandoning what you knew, or thought, you had.

Did he really believe you wouldn’t support him, that you didn’t care enough about him to give him space and time while he dealt with all the things he needed to, that your love for him simply wasn’t enough for him to want to hold onto while he was deployed, that everything you thought you had been building was broken and false?

The toaster popped, shooting your slice of bread out, making you jump after forgetting you were even waiting for it.

You ate because you had to, but food tasted bleak and flavourless, and everything that landed in your stomach felt like it sat there and made your nausea even worse.

You had made a whole lasagna earlier just because, giving you something to do for the better part of an hour, but the thought of eating it was so unappealing and you had the idea that maybe you would drop it off for Benny. Taking a bite out of the plain piece of toast, you thought how awful it might feel to go over to the Miller’s house right now, and decided against it, opting to freeze the lasagna for another time instead.

Another bite and the toast was in the trash, and you stood in the middle of your kitchen unmoving, not sure what to do with yourself next.

You hadn’t slept, and whether it was fatigue or just your grief pummeling you, you broke down and sobbed, your body shaking as the memory of Will holding you in his arms in this very spot flooded you, dancing one night while in the middle of cleaning up dinner, pausing almost anything in favour of stealing a piece of each other.

Work was a welcomed distraction, forcing you to go through the motions and function like everything was normal, able to allow you to bury your emotions for the course of a shift and nearly forget about what had happened, only to have it all come back the moment you got in your car and started your drive home, knowing you had nothing to look forward to.

You hadn’t been back to the gym since the day you saw both brothers there all beat up from their brawl with each other, your body too exhausted and weak to even consider working out, but as you sat at your kitchen table with nothing else to do, you went and changed into your gym clothes and drove over.

It was busy enough, observing the evening crowd enough to keep you entertained as you walked on the Stair Master, each step automatic and absent-minded.

Through a few people and machines you spotted Benny, resting on a bench between sets of chest presses, his smile and slightly awkward wave making you feel equally so, and as he stood and started weaving his way over to you, you felt bad that he probably felt obligated to talk to you.

You stopped the machine and stepped down, grabbing your things in the assumption you would probably feel like leaving after this conversation, your water bottle shaking in your hand that trembled with nerves and adrenaline.

“Hey,” Benny said, somewhat hesitantly.

“Hey, Benny,” you answered, smoothing your hand over your sweaty hair.

“How’re you doing?”

You sighed, looking down at the floor as you shook your head. “Do you want the fake answer or the honest one?”

Benny huffed a laugh in understanding. “You look like shit.”

You laughed out of disbelief, bringing yourself to look at him as he scratched his head and tried to recover.

“I mean- fuck.”

“No, I look like shit. Feel like it too,” you confirmed, reassuring his observations.

“Are you looking after yourself?” he asked, his face full of concern.

You shrugged, “As much as I can, I guess.”

He nodded, sympathetic to your feelings. “Are you eating? Sleeping?”

“Here and there. Not much of both if I’m honest.”

“Yeah, I get it. Just do your best even though it’s hard.”

You hummed. “Does it get any easier?”

He tilted his head a bit. “Does what get easier?”

“The worry, the waiting…”

“Oh, uh…” he pulled his ball cap up off his head, smoothed his hair back and placed it back on again, this time backwards. “Yeah, I guess we all just get used to it in a way. But I’d be lying if I said that everyday you’re half expecting to get that phone call…”

He saw the tears in your eyes well to the surface, and unlike most times, Benny felt a bit speechless.

“I can’t stop thinking about him,” you admitted, your words not even directed at Benny, but rather said aloud simply because you couldn’t keep them in.

“Ugh, I’m sorry,” you went on, wiping your eyes and shaking your head like it would suddenly shake away your feelings. “I’m gonna get going, see you later.”

“Yeah, of course,” Benny responded, his voice soft. “Hey,” he called after you, making you pause and turn half-way to face him.

“Just don’t give up on him yet.”

You gave a weak smile. “I couldn’t if I wanted to.”

You made it to your car before you really fell apart, the tears coming down your face so hot and fast you could barely see to unlock the door, and when you flopped down into the seat, you rested your head against the steering wheel and wept.

The most overwhelming sense of panic came over you, taking control over everything and trapping you in it, your mind racing with every horrible thought imaginable, and before you could realize, your breathing had turned short and gasping, your mouth desperately trying to suck in air between sobs.

Your hands wrapped around yourself, squeezing you tighter than the grip of the anxiety attack was, feeling your whole body shaking and trembling and all you wanted to do was scream.

That was when Will’s soothing voice popped in your head, urging you to focus on your breaths and count each one, the sound of the numbers in his even tone allowing you to stop the panic, and you began counting out loud until your breathing eventually leveled out.

How could the same person who was the reason you were feeling this way manage to help calm you, you thought, exhaling slowly as everything around you started to come into focus again.

You ran your hands over your face, your body still shaking with each inhalation though they had become more regular, knowing that as much as you were hurt and betrayed, you still loved Will more than you could imagine loving anything.

Benny’s phone rang not thirty seconds after he’d just hung up, Will’s number lighting up his screen suspiciously close to him ending his conversation with Tom.

He pressed the green button to answer it, and before he could even get out a ‘hey’, Will’s voice stopped him.

“Are you checking up on me?”

“Uhh-”

“I heard Redfly talking to you, idiot.”

Benny scratched his head, trying to gauge which way this was about to go.

“If you’re wondering how I am, just ask me, Ben.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes that’s easier said than done,” he quipped, recalling how many forced conversations they’d had lately where Will gave short, vague answers to everything.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

Benny sighed, lifting his arm up in exasperation before letting it fall and hit his side, “I dunno, man, I just thought I’d get a truthful answer out of Redfly over you. He’s with you every day and can tell how you are.”

He heard Will sigh, and Benny took the pause as a chance to give his brother the opportunity to tell him for himself.

“So, how are you, then?”

Will sighed heavily again. “I don’t fucking know anymore. Okay, I guess?” he said, his uncertainty clear.

“Tom said things are going well with the op, and despite it all you seem like you’ve got your head in the game.”

“Yeah, that’s all fine,” Will explained, like his role as a Captain on this tour was the least of his worries. “It’s everything else…”

“Yeah…” Benny agreed, holding space for Will to continue.

“How’s she doing? Have you seen her?”

“Saw her at the gym yesterday,” Benny said carefully, trying to decide if it would be better or worse to tell him she wasn’t doing well, but ultimately knowing if he wanted Will to be honest, he would have to be too. “She’s not doing good, man.”

Will was silent, making Benny pull the phone away from his ear to check if the call had dropped or not.

“I can’t believe I did this to her,” he said quietly.

“Yeah, well,” Benny said flatly, “What’s done is done, now you just have to focus on finishing this job and getting back home so you can fix it.”

“Do you think there will be anything left to fix?”

Benny blew the air out of his mouth slowly. “That’s up to you two. If you both want it to work out…”

“That’s what I’m worried about. By the time I get back she’ll have moved on and learned to hate me.”

“You don’t know that,” Benny countered. Able to tell the expression that would be on Will’s face right now, he continued. “She still loves you man.”

“I wish she didn’t. She deserves better, not this shit…”

Benny’s heart ached for his brother, hating that he was going through this on top of being back in action, praying his stress didn’t get the better of him or be the cause of any fatal mistakes.

“Listen, man, I gotta go,” Will spoke, his voice weak and quiet.

“Yeah, okay. Be careful out there.”

“Always.”

The beep of the call ending sounded in Benny’s ear before there was even the chance to consider saying anything else, and he hoped Will would hang onto the thought that maybe it wasn’t all lost yet.

Days turned into weeks, but the amount of time that was passing didn’t help to make things feel any better, making you wonder every day if it would ever stop hurting.

Anger grew as you wracked your brain combing through every detail of every conversation and act that could've led to this, wondering where it was that you went wrong, but you still couldn’t pinpoint the moment Will gave up on loving you or what it was that made him peel away. It almost hurt just as much as him being gone did, unable to know what the cause was so you could try to rectify it and simply get closure as to why it ended, your heart like an open wound that would never heal.

You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time before exiting your room, on your way to meet two of your girlfriends for a quiet drink, your attempts to refuse unaccepted.

You couldn’t deny that it would possibly help get your mind off of Will, but you knew it was futile as everything you did and everywhere you went, he was there.

“That guy can’t stop looking over here at you,” Grace said through a grin as she nudged you with her elbow, and you twisted in your chair slightly to follow her gaze.

You took a sip of your wine as you assessed the man with dark brown hair and brown eyes staring directly at you, his smile bright and clean, his lips plump and inviting.

You said nothing as you turned back to your friends, raising your eyebrows as if that was a response that would appease anyone.

“Come on, he’s gorgeous!” Nicole urged, tilting her head indignantly.

“I never said he wasn’t!” you defended, but in your head all you could think was how he wasn’t Will.

“You need a rebound fuck,” Grace suggested, and the thought made your stomach flip.

“I’m not ready for any of that yet,” you admitted, hoping they would understand how raw everything still felt.

“We know,” Nicole sympathized, giving your hand a squeeze as she placed hers overtop, and you knew they would support you in anything whether it was continuing to miss Will with every part of your being or hooking up with the next man who walked by.

“Oh shit, he’s coming over,” Grace blurted, adjusting in her seat as a wide smile appeared on her face.

Your heart plummeted in your gut, and you sighed, praying this wouldn’t be as horribly awkward as you were expecting it to be, trying to find the energy to be kind and cordial despite not wanting to.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” a deep, smooth voice purred behind you, and you felt the demand of his presence as he stood beside your chair.

His eyes were even more alluring up close, and his crooked smirk was equally charming as it was sexy, the dark scruff around his mouth complimenting his olive complexion.

You swallowed, feeling unable to find words, and with a low chuckle, it prompted him to continue.

“I couldn’t help but want to come over to say hi and introduce myself.” He spoke with such confidence, his voice so seductive. “I’m Cam.”

He held out his hand for you to shake, and you did, feeling your hand tremble slightly before he took it in a firm grip and moved it up and down once on your behalf.

You introduced yourself as well as Nicole and Grace who you wanted to kick under the table for how they were gawking at him, but not as much as you wanted to crawl under it to hide away as he pulled out a chair from the empty table beside yours and took a seat.

“Can I get you ladies another round?”

“Oh, yes please!” the girls chimed, seeming completely enthusiastic about him joining you.

You assessed his hand for any ring as he waved the waitress over, requesting for the same drinks to be brought to the table, feeling relieved there was no band wrapped around his ring finger, but something about him still felt off to you.

He’s not Will, your mind reminded you, and you took a long drink of your wine to try to swallow the sour feeling stirring in your gut.

It was comfortable enough talking to him, even catching yourself laughing at some of the things he said and genuinely having a good time, but every time you felt yourself liking something about him, there was one thing you found you didn’t.

He’s not Will.

You found yourself lost in his chocolate eyes as he spoke to you, imagining instead they were clear blue and held a brightness that reflected the love you had learned to see shine through them, only to be reminded that that wasn’t something that existed for you anymore, and you blinked back to the reality you faced.

“Would it be too forward of me if I asked for your number?” Cam asked, his eyebrows raising on his forehead in a hopeful, but confident expression.

“Hm, yeah, sure,” you replied, picking his phone up from the table that he slid over to you and typed your number into a text message along with your name, sending it to yourself.

“I’ll call you,” he said, standing from his seat where he continued to smile at you.

Your eyes followed him as he walked over to the bar to pay his tab, feeling something stir in you as he looked back over his shoulder at you one last time before he sauntered out of the bar, everything about him charming and gorgeous.

But he wasn’t Will.

“Are you going to go out with him?” Nicole asked excitedly, the looks on both your friend’s faces confusing you like you missed something they hadn’t.

“Umm,” you pondered, trying to wrap your head around the situation, the three glasses of wine making your head feel fuzzy. “I- I don’t know.”

You felt like crying, feeling a sense of guilt and anxiety bubble up in you, like you were betraying Will and being unfaithful despite the reminder that he wasn’t yours slapping you in the face and twisting your heart in your chest.

A few days had passed since your night out with the girls, and as expected, a text from Cam had come through asking to take you for dinner, the invitation sitting ignored and unresponded to in your messages.

Every time you opened your phone to reply, you would see Will’s name a few spots down from Cam’s, the contrast between them and what was past and what was present making you wish more than ever that you could go back in time and try to mend whatever it was that took Will away from you.

You didn't recall ever being so irritable, your temper short and your patience gone, a toss up whether you would scream or cry at the drop of a hat becoming the daily gamble.

The gym didn’t even seem to allay these frustrations, and as you tried to adjust the height of the rack bracket and it got stuck, you felt that blanket of red creeping up through you.

Cursing under your breath, you wiggled the pin again and again, tugging and jostling it to try to get it to move, the clanking of the metal against metal drawing attention over to you by prying, judging eyes.

“Need help?”

You sighed with relief, hearing the familiar voice that belonged to Benny, closing your eyes and counting your breaths as he stepped in and adjusted it for you.

“Thank you,” you muttered, avoiding meeting his eyes as shame washed over you.

“You alright?”

You forced the air out of your lungs again, still not meeting his piercing gaze.

“I'm just so angry and there's nothing I can do about it,” you admitted, your tone defeated.

“I understand that,” Benny drawled, leaning against the squat rack.

You felt him studying you, almost as if he was debating saying something.

“He asks about you every time I talk to him…”

It felt like the wind was knocked right out of you, and somehow you managed to speak.

“He does?”

Your bewilderment seemed to confuse Benny, his face screwed up as he looked at you like it was the most obvious and normal thing.

“Yeah?”

You covered your face with your hands, letting out a growl that did nothing to signify your frustration at the situation.

“I still don’t know what I did wrong. He stopped staying the night and became more and more distant each time I saw him…” You paused briefly, trying to put your thoughts in order. “Then he just stopped altogether and the next time we spoke he ended it, and now you’re saying he asks about me?”

“He didn’t tell you about his nightmare?” Benny asked, his shock blatant.

You shook your head, your brows knitted tightly together. “No?”

Benny sighed and rolled his eyes, shifting on his feet as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Jesus Christ…okay,” he groaned, exasperated by his brother’s ability to consistently make things worse.

You stood there unmoving as Benny explained what had happened, going over all the details Will had told him of his nightmare and his reactions to it, and you felt cold despite having worked up a sweat from what you had done in your routine already.

“I told him he wouldn't actually hurt you but he was so messed up from it. I think it was days before he managed to sleep after that,” Benny said, his tone sad. “I've only seen him that distraught after a nightmare a couple times before.”

“Why wouldn’t he have said anything to me?” you asked, your voice a whisper.

Benny shrugged, “I think he was scared. And then knowing he was leaving on top of it…it was just too much for him.”

You nodded, rubbing your hands on your arms for some sort of comfort, feeling like your heart was breaking all over again, but this time for Will rather than because of him.

“I’m not making excuses for him,” Benny went on, leaning with his arms up on the barbell that hung across the rack. “I don’t agree with what he did, I just know how messy things can get in that head of his, and as his brother I kinda always have to have his back, but it doesn't mean I’m on his side.”

You nodded, at a loss for words as your mind tried to process everything.

It was a helpless feeling, having some sort of understanding now but unable to do anything about it, wondering if you should send Will a message or have Benny pass one along, but all you wanted to tell him was you loved him and that was probably something he didn’t need right now.

“Thanks for telling me,” you said softly, all of your anger replaced with sadness and worry, your heart aching in your chest.

Time continued to pass but did nothing to heal, each day marking another one gone without a word between you and Will, leaving you more unclear than ever at what to do, feeling that if he wanted anything to do with you, he would’ve reached out by now.

Not wanting to put Benny in the middle of it, you never once asked him to interfere or treated him as a messenger, only asking how his brother was doing when he hadn’t told you on his own and thankful that he usually would provide an update anyway knowing you were wondering.

The last time you saw the younger Miller you had dropped off a week’s worth of food, having prepped a variety of high fat and carb meals, helping to get him ready for his upcoming fights in a new weight class.

Cooking for Benny was just the type of distraction you needed, feeling useful and productive and able to put this latent energy into something good for someone else, offering to make his meals for him each week so he didn’t have to worry about his nutrition while focusing on his training.

He had told you as he helped unload all the food from your car that Will was due to return home soon, a matter of days or weeks but there was no exact date yet, and every time you went to the gym or to the grocery store, you braced yourself for a run-in with the man you couldn’t stop thinking about.

You finished washing your face and brushing your teeth, checking your phone one last time before leaving it on your dresser for the night, never getting used to the disappointment you felt at not seeing a sweet message from Will like you used to whenever he wasn’t with you, and still holding hope that whenever it did buzz with a text, it would be Benny saying Will was back.

Your anxiousness was getting the better of you, feeling like it was worsening each day to the point you were struggling to sleep even more than what had now become your normal, never resting for more than a couple of hours at a time if you were lucky.

So many things passed through your mind in those hours spent awake, some of which consisted of that outstanding offer for a date with Cam, not declining it yet despite knowing it was something you didn’t want anything to do with. Nicole and Grace would still bring it up whenever you talked but didn’t put any pressure on you, both of them knowing deep down you were happiest with Will, and you weren’t about to jeopardize any remaining chance with him until you knew for sure that there was an absolute finality to your relationship.

Not feeling tired but knowing you needed to try to sleep, you crawled into bed, nestling yourself under the covers on the side that Will used to occupy, closing your eyes in hopes your mind would drum up the memory of his arms wrapped around you.

You knew you shouldn't do it, knowing it wasn't helping you move on and that some might deem it unhealthy, but every time you laid in bed you imagined him with you and it was becoming the only thing that would get you to sleep.

It had been your haven; the warmth of his body and your limbs tired and wonderfully achy from sex providing all the comfort you needed to drift off, both of you usually able to sleep soundly with the exception of Will having the occasional nightmare until his mind plagued him with the one that he couldn’t get past.

How could it be so wrong to go back to a time when a version of you didn't haunt his dreams, when you had brought each other nothing but love and understanding and a sense of safety and security? You kept replaying what Benny had told you about his nightmare over and over, the sense of guilt you had over it working to torture you just as much as the dream tormented Will.

You sighed, squeezing your eyelids tight, doing everything in your power to recall the feel of his lips on your neck, his breath ghosting over your skin as he wished you goodnight, his beard scratching against you in the most addicting way as he tucked his face as close to yours as he could.

Tears started to spring from your eyes the harder you shut them, thinking how you would give it all up in a heartbeat so Will could be happy and live a life with all of his worries put at ease even if it meant you couldn’t be a part of it.

Will picked at the frayed laces on his boot as he listened to the dial tone, one leg bent to rest on his knee while waiting for Benny to pick up, excited to share the news that he was flying home tomorrow and to get an update on Benny’s training, knowing he had been working hard to put on the last few pounds needed to put him in the Light Heavyweight class.

“Sup, bro?” he finally answered, out of breath.

“Hey, Ben. You running?”

“Just in the middle of some light spars. Got my first fight tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, buddy!” he hollered, his excitement palpable through the phone.

“That’s awesome, Benny,” Will praised, proud of his brother for reaching his goal.

“How’re you doing?” Benny panted.

“I’m okay,” he paused, planting his foot down so both were on the ground and scratching his head. “Coming in tomorrow.”

“Fuck, seriously?”

“Yeah…”

“Shit. The fight is in Fort Myers, I can’t pick you up, man.”

Will tried his best to disguise his disappointment, his leg bouncing as he tried to level his voice.

“It’s fine, I’ll take a cab or get Redfly to drop me off,” he suggested, knowing he wouldn’t even ask his friend since Tom would be so eager to be reunited with his girls.

Benny sighed, “You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s not a big deal. I’m just sorry I’ll miss that fight.”

“There will be more, don’t worry,” he assured. “Safe flight home, eh?”

“Thanks Benny. Good luck tomorrow. Knock ‘em dead.”

Benny chuckled, “Yeah, I will. See you soon, bro.”

Will ended the call and sat for a minute, the bit of excitement he felt about coming home diminished, feeling a sense of dejection that he officially had no one there for him.

He considered all of his options, the thought of reaching out to you even crossing his mind, but knew that he couldn’t and he would just have to settle for whatever warm welcome the cab driver wouldn’t provide him.

He blew air out of his mouth slowly, starting to feel like he couldn't capture a proper breath, closing his eyes as the sense of self-inflicted and well-deserved dread he was now accustomed to consumed him.

One, two, three…he counted, the numbers switching from the sound of his own voice to yours, repeating them with each breath in and out until he secured a consistent pattern.

Tomorrow.

You knew what it meant without any other context, the single word appearing on your screen from Benny making your heart jump into your throat, and you grabbed the edge of the countertop behind you with shaky hands as you leaned against it.

He had promised to tell you when he knew for sure and here it was, the day you had hoped for for so long, but one you were also terrified for.

Will was coming home.

As a slew of emotions ran through you, it dawned on you that his arrival happened to be on the same day as Benny’s fight, and you wondered if that meant anyone would be there to welcome him home.

You picked up your phone to reply to Benny, thinking of asking him who was planning to pick Will up from base, but as soon as you started typing the message, you hit the arrow to delete it, putting your phone back down on the counter.

It wasn’t your business, you told yourself, fighting every urge to make it yours, the thought of Wil returning home from the hells he faced with no one there for him breaking your heart.

You figured you were the last person he would want to see anyway, and knowing you had the potential to send him even more over the edge made you feel sick, thinking of how much had changed from when you were the one who used to bring him peace.

The flight was long, and it felt like every muscle in Will’s body ached as he walked off the plane and waited to board the bus that would bring them to the base station, feeling so close but still so far from being home.

There was continuous chatter around him, the excitement of all the soldiers about reuniting with their loved ones making Will feel happy and sad at the same time, and he did his best to seem enthused when asked if he was looking forward to going home.

He checked his phone more times than he needed to, having sent Benny a text that he had landed to which he responded with a thumbs up emoji, part of him hoping that there would be something from you, only to remember he didn’t deserve any grace for his actions.

He was getting everything he deserved, he thought as he pressed his head back against the headrest after sitting down, sighing out slowly while closing his eyes, finding it amusing that being alone was something he was both looking forward to and completely dreading.

It wasn’t long before the bus arrived at base, and Will remained in his seat until everyone else had gotten off, not wanting his fellow troops who were so eager to hold their loved ones to be held up by him who was only going to wait for a fucking cab.

He slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way through people hugging, a weak smile forming on his lips in seeing one of his friends holding his newborn baby, and not far off did he watch Tom embrace both of his daughter’s in his arms, picking them up and swinging them around until they were screaming with delight.

After making his way to the doors, he pulled out his phone and looked up the number for a taxi, rubbing his other hand over his tired eyes roughly, praying it wouldn’t take long for one to show up.

The area he stood in was quiet with everyone else still lingering behind, but he glanced up when he noticed a couple walking past hand-in-hand, pausing to steal a kiss.

Will was about to hit the number to dial for Taxi Tampa when he looked up again, his eyes landing on a familiar face and one he couldn’t forget even if he tried.

You had just walked in and were stopped in your tracks as you noticed him at the same time, your face a mix of so many emotions that Will could hardly pick one out.

You gave a small shrug and shook your head, silently explaining that you didn’t really know what you were doing there, and Will all but choked as he tried to take a breath, his shock in seeing you completely overwhelming.

He dropped his bag and let his phone fall on top of it, stepping toward you in purposeful strides, his eyes welling up just the same as yours were.

“I wasn’t sure if I should even come but…I had to show up for you,” you shook out, Will’s hands reaching to cup your face, his thumbs smoothing your cheeks as tears started to fall down them.

He nodded in response, unable to say anything, his own tears breaking their threshold as you grabbed onto his forearms, rubbing them through his shirt as he continued to hold onto you.

He pulled you into a hug, relieved when you embraced him just as hard, feeling himself relax into you, his face nuzzling your head.

“I’m sorry,” he cried, alternating his remorse with ‘thank you’ between pressing kisses onto your forehead and hair, your sobs making your body lurch against his.

Your hands pawed at his back, clawing at his fatigues like you were trying to hold onto him for good, and Will prayed with everything he had that you never would let go.

He wasn’t sure how long you stayed like that for, but he eventually felt himself calm down, relishing in holding you and being in your presence again, knowing he would do everything in his power to make every bit of hurt up to you.

Will inhaled deeply, letting it go slowly out of his mouth, feeling like he could finally breathe properly again after all this time.

It was surreal to be in his arms, his warm embrace something you missed more than you imagined you could have, the feel of his body on yours and his scent surrounding you so familiar.

His heartbeat thrummed in your ear as you continued to rest your face on his chest, hearing his breathing having evened out and realizing yours had done the same.

You reluctantly pulled away to look at him, still keeping your arms locked around his middle. “Should we get you home?”

Will’s mouth turned up on one side, his crooked smirk making you melt.

“Yeah,” he nodded, his hand falling to land on your lower back as you both turned to where his bag was left on the floor.

You expected a moment like this to feel awkward, but it was anything but, like you were learning each other all over again, standing in Will’s room with your arms around each other’s waist, your faces so close and your lips inches from touching.

Finally, Will leaned into you, softly pressing his lips on yours, making you hold your breath as you let your eyes close and kissed him back, a broken moan transferring into his mouth as you forced yourself to try to take in air again.

His hand ran across your back, pulling you close to him as he took a step into you, your shirt slipping up so his palm splayed out on your skin, that sensation alone making you shiver in addition to how good it felt to have his lips on yours again.

Kisses grew more intense as each second ticked by, only pausing when he lifted your shirt over your head, and despite feeling so desperate, you both continued to keep every touch slow and careful.

His fingers pinched the clasp of your bra together to release it, moving the straps down your shoulders until it fell from your body, returning his hands to your arms where he trailed his fingertips up them to your neck and then down to your bare chest.

You found the buttons on his shirt, blindly unfastening each one until you were able to peel it open, feeling his smooth chest and the defined muscles of his torso, his warmth radiating out onto you.

Will reached up to take hold of your face, angling your head to press his tongue deeper in your mouth, stealing every bit of air from you in the process.

Breathe, your mind begged, but kissing him was better than breathing.

The rough material of his fatigues brushed against your nipples, making your breath hitch in your throat even more, your body moving to rub against him again to replicate the feeling.

You were rid of your pants and underwear next, leaving you naked while Will remained in his uniform, but the intoxicating feel of your skin on his bare chest let him know that he needed to have as much skin-on-skin contact as possible, and he tore the garment off his upper body quickly before moving to his pants.

Once you were bared to each other, you returned to your slow caresses, touching and exploring with light fingers and hands, your pleasure brought on purely by love.

You stopped kissing him for a moment, teasing your lips on his until you managed to whisper, your voice thick with lust.

“I need you, Will. I need you inside me.”

His nose nudged your cheek as he agreed with the nod of his head, his hands clasping your face again like he feared if he went too long without kissing you, you would vanish.

He took your hand and led you to the bed, sitting down on it and shifted back slightly where you followed, straddling his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck, looking into his vibrantly blue eyes as he gazed at you lovingly.

His hands slid all along your back, bringing you closer to his body before they landed on your legs, guiding you to put them straight so they were behind him and you were seated flush against his lap.

You breathed out slowly as your forehead rested against his, feeling his cock settle at your folds, and when you moved your hips ever so slightly, you gasped at the sensation.

Will kissed along your jawline, his hands massaging your hips, ready to assist as you lifted yourself enough to reach between your bodies and take hold of his cock, guiding him to your entrance where you slowly sank onto his length.

Short, shuddered breaths were exchanged between you before you found each other’s lips again, and you gradually began to move together, finding a tempo that sang to you and helped display the love that had been missing.

Will held onto every part of you that he could, grasping at you as you rocked and rode him, his hips jutting up into yours in slow, meticulous thrusts to give you everything you needed, feeling your desperation grow while his did too.

Your clit rubbed against the coarse hairs above his cock, grinding until you were at the edge, the way your wet walls clenched around and encased him driving him to the brink what felt like faster than ever.

Even though you were both quick to arrive at your climaxes, nothing about it was rushed, savouring each movement to get there and not taking a single second for granted, every emotion felt transferred through your bodies.

Will kissed you hard, groaning into your mouth as he came undone, coating your walls and filling you completely with his hot cum that started to leak out of you as you continued to move on his shaft, your orgasm lagging just seconds behind.

Your fingers clawed at the back of his neck, scratching and digging into his flesh as your body took every bit of pleasure from him, the seal of your mouths breaking as you both panted for air, his head falling into the hollow of your neck while yours rested on the side of his, his hair soft on your cheek.

His mouth smeared wet across your collarbone as he moved his face, pressing sloppy, lazy kisses onto your skin as he continued to hold you close, feeling his chest and back expand and contract with each heavy breath while you kept your arms secured around him.

Will brought you with him as he laid down on his sheets, your bodies still connected, his fingertips tracing your hairline before he leaned toward you and kissed your lips again.

After a few more minutes of kissing, you tucked your face into his neck, your legs entwining with his, Will rolling over onto his back where he held your hand and brought it to rest on his chest.

A silent agreement seemed to settle between you to leave the talking until tomorrow, right now needing to simply be with each other, and like nothing had ever gone wrong, Will closed his eyes and fell asleep, his mind and body finding a peace he didn’t think he would ever have again.

---

Part 8

Taglist:

@sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls

@littlenosoul @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90

@paintlavillered @casa-boiardi @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989 @justreblogginfics

@spaghettificationandpretzels @whatever-lmaoo @steviebbboi @charethcutestory02

@christinhunnam @hp-hogwartsexpress

#will miller #triple frontier #will miller x female reader #charlie hunnam #will miller x reader #will 'ironhead' miller #will miller smut #william miller #william 'ironhead' miller #charlie hunnam characters

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linos-luna · 1 year ago

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My Baby (Pt. 9) 🔪

Yandere!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader x Minho

(Pt. 1) (Pt. 2) (Pt. 3) (Pt. 4) (Pt. 5) (Pt. 6) (Pt. 7) (Pt. 8) (Pt. 9) (Pt. 10)

Warnings: Yandere! 18+, spanking, some violence?, crying, drugging

—————————— 🎀 ——————————

He was successful. Your worst nightmare came true. He’s “taken you home” just as he planned. Now you’re in a decorated basement, handcuffed to the rail of the bed, the type of rail that a hospital bed would have. For now, you are helpless and dreading what is to come next.

Chan had left briefly to grab something and you were left to observe your surroundings. It was hard not to break into a panic attack.

Looking at yourself, you see that you are wearing pajama pants. The warm fleece type. It was pink and not one you’d have at home. A black oversized t shirt replaced the shirt you were wearing earlier and on your feet, well it was interesting.

On your feet were the socks used for mental patients, the ones with the grips. Lord only knows where he got them.

The room was dimly lit so you couldn’t see much.

Suddenly you hear the door open and see your kidnapper descending the steps. In his hand, was a bottle of milk, warm milk presumably.

“It’s time for bed, babygirl.” He said with a smile while sitting in front of you.

“H-how am I supposed to sleep with this on?” You asked while motioning to the cuffs. “It’s very uncomfortable…”

“Well, I can’t remove it until you fall asleep.” He said with a smile while putting the bottle in front of you. That’s why I made you milk. Warm milk to make you sleepy.”

You knew that milk had to be drugged. There’s no way you’d drink that.

Chan put the bottle to your lips before you shook your head, refusing to open your mouth.

“C’mon baby, drink it. It’ll make you feel better.”

“I’m not drinking it…” you muttered before pursing your lips.

“Baby, this isn’t an option!” He laughed while grabbing hold of your face and forcing the bottle’s tip into your mouth.

You tried fighting but he squeezed the bottle, making so much of the warm liquid go down your throat that you nearly choked.

After letting go of your face and removing the bottle you found yourself gasping for air and coughing.

Chan laid you down, gently putting your head in the soft fluffy pillows.

Sight blurred and mind dizzy, you didn’t have the strength to fight. In fact, after a few minutes, you felt that you couldn’t move at all.

As you started to pass out, Chan held you tight and rested his head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat. He sighed, almost in relief.

“My baby…” he whispered. “I’m so happy you’re home…”

———— 🎀

Meanwhile, Minho was in panic mode. How could he have let this happen?? It’s been what? 3-4 hours since your abduction?? And there were no clues as to where he took you.

Jeongyeon had come over right away and was getting nervous by how he was pacing and coming up with excessive theories.

“Minho, you have to sleep.” She sighed as she pulled blanket over herself while laying on the couch. “We’ll continue looking tomorrow but you’re no good if tired!”

“I don’t know how you could sleep in a time like this!” He snapped. “He could be doing anything to her! All her progress will be for nothing! And it’s my fault.”

“Stop it!” Jeongyeon yelled. “You had your moment of pity! Now get it together and rest so we can find her tomorrow!”

“Okay.” He sighed. “But first thing in the morning we start looking!”

————— 🎀

It was hard to tell if it was morning since there were no windows. You assumed it was considering how long you slept. You felt a little drowsy, knowing it was whatever he put in that milk.

Looking at your hand, you realize that you weren’t cuffed to the bed rail. The door was open as well.

Nothing was restraining you which was weird so you cautiously stood and walked up the stairs.

You could hear Chan humming away in the kitchen. He’s definitely cooking something.

Straight ahead you spot the door. It wasn’t like the one at his house. It was just a regular lock.

Running to the door would risk you getting caught as it passed right by the kitchen. Surely he’d spot you.

But you were determined. No way you’d let him keep you here. Especially without a fight so you did it. You took the risk.

As you ran to the door, Chan had heard you and was quick to react. Just as you reached for the door he grabbed you from behind.

“Baby, what are you doing?!” He laughed while pulling you away.

“Let me go!” You yelled while fighting back. “Let go of me you maniac!”

You actually put up a good fight. You weren’t as easy to subdue as you once were and you even managed to slip out of his gasp momentary.

“Stop it!” He yelled while pushing you into the wall.

“No no no!” You cried out as he tried holding you still, your cheek practically smushed against the wall.

You were getting tired and he was too strong. Eventually he managed to pick you up completely and bring you to his room where he tossed you on your stomach on the bed.

“You’re gonna make daddy mad.” He said sternly, obviously trying to control his anger.

“You’re not my daddy!” You yelled out. “You never were! Fuck you, you Monster!”

Suddenly you feel your pants an underwear being yanked down and the sound of something unbuckling.

“You make me do this, y/n.”

Suddenly a sharp sting strikes your bare bottom. You screamed into the sheets when realizing he was using his belt.

Again he spanked you. Then again. And again. Each one stinging more than the last. You were a mess of tears and screamed after each strike.

“Stop!” You cried out as he hit you again. You bit your sleeve to cover the scream but it wasn’t much help.

He did it again, yelling something about you being a bad girl. Then about you being a whore.

It was tearing you apart and you sobbed loudly.

“Stop stop! I’m sorry!”

“You’re what?!” He pinched your reddened cheek, making you shriek in pain and bury your face in the sheets.

“Im sorry! Im sorry!” You sobbed into the sheets, muffling your cries. “Daddy I’m sorry! Im sorry!”

“What do call me?!” Again he pinched at the skin and you screamed into the sheets.

“DADDY! DADDY! YOU’RE DADDY!!”

He seemed satisfied and pulled you up by your arm.

“That’s all you had to say babygirl.” He said while hugging your shaking body. You held onto him as well and continued quietly sobbing.

“I’m sorry I hurt you baby.” He said while rubbing your cheek. “It wasn’t-… it wasn’t supposed to be like this…”

He wiped away some tears but your cheeks still looked stained and your eyes were puffy. In fact your whole face seemed flushed. He felt bad. Really bad. He didn’t want to hurt you like that! You’re his baby! He just lost control that’s all… right?

Chan helped you put your underwear and pants back on and kissed your cheek and then your forehead. “I’m so sorry…”

He sounded like he was gonna cry.

“I made you breakfast, baby.” He said as if trying to uplift the mood.

You nodded and quietly followed him to the dining table where he set down a plate with pancakes and strawberries in front of you.

You watched as he poured syrup on the food and cut you a piece.

Just as before, he fed you the breakfast and you didn’t resist him.

After finishing, he took the dish to the sink and came back with some juice.

“Baby… I-… I have something for you…” he said while looking down.

You didn’t respond, only watched as he opened the nearby closet.

A moment goes by and he pulls out what seems to be a gift basket and a plushie.

“Your birthday was a few days ago… and I had this for you…”

You stared at the items. Another rilakkuma bear, similar to the one you had before but bigger. Way bigger. The basket also had other smaller gifts inside.

Chan took one of the small boxes and pulled out a necklace, a pretty one with your birth stone.

He pulled out a hair bow and lipglosses along with some earrings.

There were also some candies and another small plushy. Then he pulled out a card, giving it to you to read.

You opened it slowly and bit your lip as you read it in your head.

Y/N, my sweet babygirl,

Oh how I missed you. I’ve been waiting for the day to have you back home and in my arms. I may have missed you birthday but I still love you more than ever. I missed you so much! I couldn’t live with myself! I miss having my baby at home. I miss taking care of you. I know that sometimes I’m scary but I don’t mean it. I don’t want to hurt you. I want to love you. And this year I promise to be better. I love you. Forever.

— Daddy ♡

You looked back up at the man before his gave you a soft kiss on the lips. Was he serious? He’s an awful boyfriend! And yet somehow still… loving?

“I’m… im gonna go to my room…” you said in a small voice as you grabbed the plush, hugging it while going back to the basement.

You hugged the bear while laying on the bed, quietly crying to yourself.

“Idiot!”

You hear a sudden shout from upstairs.

“You hurt her!!”

It was Chan. And he was beating himself up over what transpired. He wanted to be gentle but he lost control. Now he’s pissed at himself slamming things around as he shouted insults at himself.

You stayed quiet. Best to stay out that that crossfire…

————— 🎀

The next morning jeongyeon woke up to Minho rapidly typing on his laptop. He was at the dinner table looking like he hadn’t slept much.

“Minho? Did you even sleep?!”

“2 hours.” He said bluntly.

Your friend sighed as she left to go freshen up a little.

“What do you mean there’s nothing you can do?!”

Minho was angrily yelled the police on the phone. He was tired and frustrated, not a good combination.

“She did not choose to leave!” He shouted. “We can’t go wait that long!!”

Jeongyeon came back and looked around seeing if she could find anything left behind.

Minho hung up and threw the phone across the room nearly scaring jeongyeon.

“What happened?!”

“She’s an adult so we can’t report her missing until 48 hours has passed.” He sighed.

“What??”

“They said she could’ve left on her own.” He replied.

“So we just wait??”

“No. We’re gonna find her!” He snapped.

“We don’t even have a starting point. How are we going to track them??”

“I’ll figure it out…” he said, sounding more determined. “We’re getting her back…”

————————— 🎀 —————————

Thank you so much for getting me to 2,000 followers!! I can’t believe y’all actually like my fics. I always considered myself an awful writer and struggle lot with it in school. It me happy that y’all like the fics and makes me wanna write more!

I love and appreciate you all!! 🥰🥰🥰🥺🥺🥺💖💖💖💖💖🥺🥺🥺🥰🥰🥰💝💝💝💝💝💝

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thelov3lybookworm · 1 year ago

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I Didn't Ask For This (part 5)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: Marriage had always been something sacred to little Y/n, something dream like, where her husband would come and whisk her away to a fairyland. At least, that's what she had always thought.

All her dreams would be shattered.

But maybe she can salvage them?

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: forced marriage, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: do you think we forgive azzie? Just a lil bit? He's going to grovel and a lot more, but that would be in the next parts. This is just a build up for the next part. Also, send me some ways that you would like to see azzie grovel, if there are any.

•○🌑○•

Azriel's pov.

He couldn't move for what felt like eternity, staring at the doorway through which she had disappeared.

He hadn't realised what was really going on inside her head when he'd turned her away all those times. Hadn't realised that the pain she went through was enough to make her want to have the peace and quiet of death.

He had, for some reason, thought that she just wanted to rub it in his face, that she was now married to him. Somehow, over the years since he had left his father's camp, he had grown to resent the tattoo on his ring finger. Resent the meaning of it. Resent his first friend...

And love.

Because no matter how hard he tried to deny it, younger Azriel had fallen in love with the only person who had shown him kindness. A girl who was barely any younger than him. It had felt nice, to have a friend to play with. To know all the pleasures of being a kid, no matter how fleeting. And she had given him that.

And he had broken her heart.

No. He hadn't broken her heart. He had stomped over what was left of it. And not cared.

The female who had not cared for his dirty clothes or hands or hair or face, and befriended him, had just wanted to figure out how to proceed in these inconvenient times, and he had yelled at her and told her that she ruined his life.

He had kicked her out of his room and had her sleep on a couch. And even though the couch was comfortable to sit on, it wasn't really ideal for sleeping.

He hadn't slept that night. He couldn't as he thought of how he would break the news to Elain. As he wondered if she already knew. As he cared for things and people he shouldn't have cared about.

All while the person he should have cared about was tossing and turning in restless sleep on an uncomfortable couch.

His shadows had informed him of everything, and he knew how the night went for her. No matter how much he wanted to tune the information out, his shadows wouldn't stop.

So he knew all about how she had devoured the food the house had provided her with as if she hadn't eaten in a long time– she probably hadn't, considering her extremely malnourished frame. How she didn't want to move. How she lay down on the couch and the house provided her with a blanket. How she kept waking up in a cold sweat after hours of trying to have a restfull sleep, searching around, as if expecting someone to come at her any second.

His shadows also kept whispering of how beautiful she was. Of the little scrunch in her brows when she started dreaming of something unpleasant. How her breathing quickend. How she had refused to tell Rhys that Azriel had, in fact, kicked her out, that too quite rudely. How a smile had spread on her extremely kissable lips when–

Azriel shook his head, trying to focus on the path forward. He knew he had fucked up, a really big fuck up at that. Maybe the biggest one yet. But thinking of that and feeling guilty about it would not help, when any second she could be doing something to harm herself.

His wife.

He didn't know what had come over him at Rita's, just that it had felt right. He had wanted to incinerate the males who kept glancing at her in admiration. It wasn't as if even he could look away from her, she just looked so damn gorgeous.

But then one of the males had the audacity to slide into the seat next to hers, and it had taken all the self control he had in him to not strangle him right away.

He needed to talk to her, tell her how sorry he was.

Before he knew what he was doing, his legs had carried him towards the stairs and down them, walking past one of the dining areas that the inner circle used the most to get to her room. Before he could, he was stopped by someone yelling his name. He inwardly groaned when he realised it was Nesta.

He had two choices, either he stay and listen to Nesta's very gracious words, or he could dissappear, though the latter wouldn't help for too long as she would have him at breakfast tomorrow.

He sighed and turned to Nesta, who was now almost upon him.

"Yes?"

"What's wrong with you! Can't you ever let her live in peace? Must you always stand in the way of her happiness?" She pushed him and he staggered back, not having expected such anger. "Go and apologise to her!"

"I was going to do just that, but you stopped me–"

"No one's stopping you now. Go." He could practically see steam coming out of her ears, her face flushed with anger. So, not wanting to have her wrath unleashed upon him, he turned and left, walking towards Y/n's room.

Praying she would listen to what he needed to say.

Hoping she wouldn't turn him away like he had all those times she had tried to speak.

•○🌑○•

Y/n's pov.

She lay facing the huge window towards the side of the bed, willing herself to fall asleep. But she couldn't, not when her heart still beat as if it wanted to get out of her chest.

There was a knock on the door, making Y/n glance back at it. She wondered if the person would go away if she didn't respond. She got her answer when a knock came again. She sighed and went to open the door.

She opened it to peek at who it was before slamming it shut in Azriel's face.

"Please Y/n. I'm just here to talk. Please open the door." He begged, his voice muffled. Y/n shook her head– even though she knew he could not see– and turned away.

Something in her peripheral vision snagged her attention, making her turn her head. A shadow bobbed up and down in front of her face, making her pause. The shadow then went on to fly around her in circles before coming up to Y/n's face and rubbing against her cheek, almost in a placating motion.

She couldn't stop the tiny smile that made its way onto her face as the shadow went back to hovering in front of her face.

"You want me to let him in?" She whispered to the shadow, who rapidly flew in an up and down motion. She cocked her head. "Is he here to fight?" This time, the shadow flew from side to side, as if shaking it's head.

She thought for a moment before turning back to the door and opening it. Azriel was sitting against the wall next to the door, his head in his hands. As soon as he heard the door open, his head swung up. He looked at her, hope and skepticism mingling in his eyes. She inched the door open, and he jumped up, a bounce to his steps.

He waddled in, rounding on her as soon as the door clicked shut.

She sighed, crossing her arms and pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "Be quick. I need to sleep."

He cleared his throat. "I was wondering if... you'd be willing to forgive me?"

"Is that all?" When he didn't reply, she went on. "No. I have no interest in forgiving you."

"Please. I swear I'll make it up to you. I–"

"Why, Azriel?" She asked, looking up at him. "Why suddenly this need for my forgiveness?"

He swallowed. "I realised... how much of an ass I've been."

She nodded, matter-of-factly. "That you have."

"So I wanted to see if I could redeem myself. You don't have to forgive me now. Take as much time as you want. Take centuries, but please give me a chance." His eyes were placating, searching hers.

"A chance for what Azriel?"

"A chance to be a better person. Someone deserving of you. Maybe we could be a happy couple."

"Why? Elain kick you out of her bed?"

"No–I– no." He sputtered for a good few moments, baffled, before he regained his composure. "This has nothing to do with Elain. Today when you saw us, I was telling her that we could not continue to do whatever it was that we were doing. She wanted a final kiss." Shame dripped from every word out of his mouth.

Y/n searched his eyes for any hint of deception, but found none. Could she trust him not to leave her again? Could she let him have the pieces of her heart she had left and trust him not to throw them away?

She wasn't sure, and maybe he saw it in her eyes as his face fell, all hope vanishing from that beautiful face

"It–it's okay if you don't want to forgive me. I just thought that maybe you wanted this too."

She took a deep breath. "How can I trust you Azriel? How can I, when you have broken me every chance you got?"

"Trust me this one time Y/n, I won't let you down again. Let me make it up to you, please."

Y/n pondered it for a few moments before sighing. "Fine. But leave now, I need to sleep."

A smile lit up his face, making him all the more attractive. He nodded happily before he vanished into his shadows.

She lay down in her bed again, finally feeling sleep crawling in.

Her last thought before she fell asleep was that Azriel had knocked on her door when he could have just barged in or stepped through his shadows, especially when she shut the door in his face.

He respected her privacy.

She was grateful that he had given her that choice. One she had never had.

And for some reason, it healed her soul, even if it were a little bit.

•○🌑○•

Taglist: @bubybubsters @maxxieluvs @bubbbllee @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @waytoomanyteenagefeels @tell-me-a-poem @the-lake-is-calling @spaxxxi @japanese-wonderland-blog @valeridarkness @moonlwghts @deadratio @esposadomd @harrystylesfan2686 @missusbarnes-rogers @whatthefuckshappeningrn @hyacinthoideshispanica @historygeekqueen @lizziesfirstwife @nastynesta @aroseinvelaris @nightless @cleverzonkwombatsludge @kodokunarisu-blog @selillusion @eos-princess @moonfawnx @a-court-of-milkandhoney @emilyo-218 @wannabewolf @ailyr92 @chronically-online-cheese @myheartfollower @hells-sluttiest-new-arrival @marina468 @menaosama @starryhiraeth @hereticdance @mali22 @valencia-rou @azrielsstarlight @marvelouslovely-barnes @luvmoo @starlight-hope

Part 6

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butmakeitgayblog · 11 months ago

Note

How about Easy A for Clexafication? I could see Clarke trying to help out a fellow gay by telling other kids in school that she slept with him. And then, thanks to her loud mouth friends, it gets out of hand with her trying to help out other guys and she gets labeled the school slut even though she’s never slept with anyone. At first Clarke leans into it and plays up the slut bit but soon realizes that it’s all too much. Her actual crush Lexa seems to be the only person who doesn’t believe the rumors. I see Lexa as the school mascot (the warriors) and she does the whole warrior getup with black eye makeup and riles up the crowd at pep rallies. Lexa also works at a local seafood restaurant where she dresses up like a pirate which is also a look that Clarke quite enjoys. Eventually the truth comes out and Clarke and Lexa become everyone’s favorite couple at school.

Ahoooo do I have a cavalcade of HCs for an Easy A au 👀.

First of all, they'd be childhood friends. The kind with weekly sleepovers and even a joint a 5th birthday party one year (despite their birthdays being 3-4 months apart, much to their parents dismay. But they insisted.) I'm talking the childhood friends who practiced witchcraft in each others backyards (potions of mud, cool lookin rocks, and leaves. Highly dangerous stuff), who learned to ride bikes together, who caught fireflies in glass jars together, who promised to grow up and get married to each other 'cuz boys are yucky' kind of friends.

And then middle school happened. And they both kinda went their separate ways.

Well.

More like Lexa grew into her own person. Doing things like joining the girls basketball team. And then volleyball. Even ruining their weekend plans with track and field practice one too many weekends in a row. She started branching out in her interests and making new friends, and left Clarke totally behind. Or so that's what Clarke has always thought (more on that later)

Cut to high school and they haven't spoken to each other in years. Not since about 3 weeks into 6th grade. There's no animosity or anything, it's just... They're strangers who occasionally wave and smile at each other in the school halls. Lexa way more often than Clarke ever does, but it's not like anybody's keeping a tally. Right? Because it doesn't matter because they don't know each other anymore. Clarke doesn't even really recognize Lexa as the same girl who used to wear matching Mutant Ninja Turtles pj shirts with her and stay up late staring at the glow-in-the-dark stickers on her bedroom ceiling while they talked for hours. Now Lexa is like, Ms. High School with all her Track and Field trophies and her badass Warriors mascot credentials (the pauldron, plastic sword, and warpaint coming across much more threatening than their old mascot, The Raccoons 😕 (tho there will always be something to be said for their freshman year when Lexa was forced to rally in the overstuffed costume while menacingly rubbing her lil raccoon-y painted hands together...)). That all has cemented her a seat at the Cool Kids Table.

Not to mention the fact that Lexa spent all of sophomore and junior year with her arm permanently attached to her (now ex) girlfriend's hip.

Not that Clarke ever cared. Or even noticed. So like, why did you even bring it up? ಠ_ಠ

Anyway.

So when her not-really friend but general acquaintance Monty asks her to... well, be his beard, Clarke agrees. In a way that, jesus fuckin hell, really got away from her faster than she ever anticipated. Because then Monty tells Jasper, and Jasper asks her to do the same, and before she even knows what the hell happened to this simple favor, everyone in school seems to believe that a painfully virgin Clarke is fucking the entire AV Club. And more.

It all spirals from there with the usual slut shaming and everything that goes along with society's hatred of women who have sex. It's only when her own best friend Raven/Wells (whichever, doesn't matter) turns on her - accusing her of being a slut and a liar and a terrible friend for not even telling them - that Clarke just says "haha Ok Fuck This" and goes all in.

Which. Whew. This is Clarke Griffin we're talking about. She's aware she's been blessed by puberty. So when she starts shaking her ass around school in tight jeans and corset tops, it has the exact effect she desires.

And then some.

More, in fact, than she had initially bargained for.

In the melee that follows of more guys bribing their way to be on the Griffin Bedpost Notches of Shame (and few a who missed the fucking memo that all of this is actually fake 😒), there is... Lexa.

Seemingly out of nowhere.

Where people had started parting in the hallways just to not touch her, Lexa seems to start showing up out of nowhere.

The smiles still come, and the friendly waves too. Nothing big. Nothing imposing, or like she wants something like everyone else. But then things like Lexa coming over to sit next Clarke during her break at the pep rally start happening (in her full Warriors getup to boot). Things like Lexa making little jokes to Clarke in passing. There's the moments when she asks Clarke if she's ok and offers her a ride after school, which Clarke always absently turns down. It's weird having Lexa back in her space again, but honestly, she's got too much on her plate to give it much thought. Because Lexa's just Lexa, and now Clarke's apparently the school slut, so... Their worlds are still very much divided.

Until eventually one night Clarke thinks she's actually going out on a date with a nice guy. I mean, she's known Finn since 10th grade. And he picks her up and opens the car door for her and everything. Like,,, this is most definitely a real date!

Except it's not, and he's a pervert asshole just like everyone tf else.

But thankfully, wouldn't ya know it, guess who happens to work at the very seafood/pirate themed restaurant that fuckboy Finn had decided on?

It's finally, FINALLY, in the quiet of Lexa's car when she parks them outside of Clarke's house that they actually talk. It starts with Clarke feeling like a fool for even thinking Finn could—... Not after everything. And Lexa of course does that thing she's taken to doing again. That calm, knowing, entirely too wise for her years kind of smile that Clarke still remembers from when they were kids.

Even in her ridiculous yet oddly attractive pirate's uniform (complete with a discarded eyepatch and clip on parrot) it's distractingly charming.

It's what has Clarke admitting that she doesn't know how she got into this mess. That she never meant to become this person. To which Lexa, in her infinite patience and wisdom, replies, "Clarke, you're still the same person you've always been. I know you. Nothing about you has changed."

Of course Clarke's dismissive answer to that is a smartassed, "Haven't you heard? I'm the school slut."

She can't help but smile at Lexa's laugh. "Actually, if I recall, you're the girl who once convinced me if I hung upside down by my feet from a tree, it'd help me grow taller."

"You can't say for sure that it didn't help," is Clarke's automatic response with a wave toward Lexa's general lanky, goddess-esque physique. Which earns her another laugh. Again, not that anyone's keeping a tally.

"True," is Lexa's response and, dammit, she's doing that all knowing smile-y grin thing again. "But you're also the girl who used to help me tie my shoes. And traded her pickles for my carrots. And taught me how to fold our secret notes so that nobody else could ever read them."

And, yeah, Clarke does remember that. Which in hindsight had been kind of stupid. It wasn't like they ever let their class time correspondence fall into the dastardly hands of anyone but each other, so the chances of interception were zilch making the whole exercise rather moot. But at the time it'd felt... important. Because what'd they'd had was only ever meant for just them.

What the hell even happened to those girls?

"You stopped answering my calls," is Lexa's simple reply. It doesn't even seem to hold any blame. "It was like... one day you just cut me out."

Which was not what had happened?

Was it?

Except, as Lexa gently explains that while, yes, she did start getting into sports, she still always tried to make time for Clarke. She did call and leave messages that kept going unanswered. Sent texts that more often than not were left on read. She'd ask Clarke to go to her games and track meets, sometimes would call her just to come out to eat with her and her teammates. But Clarke had always given her a disinterested promise for a million next times that never actually came.

Eventually Lexa just stopped trying because Clarke made it clear that she didn't like who Lexa was anymore. And it stings ten times worse because Lexa's doesn't sound angry or blaming. Just a little hurt. Maybe still a little sad even after all these years.

It's just one more thing to feel absolutely awful about. Like, she really is the universe's biggest asshole. She has no idea what to do with this revelation of her own failures, or the soft way Lexa keeps looking at her.

After that night things both change, yet stay completely the same. Because after that night when she'd apologized to Lexa and said she regreted doing what she'd done - that 6th grade her was an idiot. 7th, 8th, 9th, 10th, and 11th grade her as well 🤧 - she was still the "school slut" and a social pariah, but she had her best friend back at least.

Her best friend who smiled her every time they passed in the hallway and sometimes walked her to class. Her best friend who now ate lunch with her and texted her on the weekends and would laugh at every single one of her jokes (fINE we're keeping a fucking a tally).

Her best friend, who when Clarke mentions is the only perso who talks to her without looking at her corset wrapped breasts, nonchalantly corrects, "Oh I look. Just... Respectfully."

It's hard to return the decency of that favor when Lexa walks away after leaning into Clarke's ear and whispering, "You know I prefer Ninja Turtles pjs anyway."

Clarke eventually comes clean about the whole fiasco, too the shock of everyone. Everyone, that is, except Lexa. Because Lexa kind of knew. Because, as Lexa says in all her glorious Warrior gear, when she kisses Clarke in front of the entire school at the end of the football team's pep rally—

"I told you, Clarke. I know you."

#anon #clexa #clarke griffin #lexa kom trikru #Easy A au

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melancholy-of-nadia · 1 year ago

Text

love u lately (m) #4 | myg/knj/pjm

title: love u lately chapter title: #4 - sour candy pairing: yoongi x f. reader, namjoon x f. reader, jimin x f. reader (yoonminjoon x f. reader) rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; college/university au , pseudo frat! bts; best friends! yoonminjoon friends to lovers; HALLOWEEN! summary: with jimin's birthday party coming, you hope that it will be a good opportunity to celebrate jimin's big day and heal namjoon's heart with all your closest friends. however, things take a turn and you start to further question how you feel about jimin and your fwb arrangement with yoongi. when you are confronted by jimin at matthew's halloween frat party, it will challenge you to make a decision that will further change your relationship with him, yoongi, and namjoon for good. warnings: first party of the year at the BETA TAU SIGMA HOUSE!, halloween, multiple house parties, alcohol/recreational drug mentions, swearing, another breakup mayhaps, kissing, mirror sex, yoongi being a little more dom than usual, vampire jimin also deserves a warning, sexy dancing, fingering, CONSENSUAL and PROTECTED sex, penetration, breast play, THINGS GET MESSY but it's NOT IN THE BED, unfinished orgasm, confessions???, ANGST with a side of GUILT note: thank u to @daegudrama (as always) for beta reading this incredibly long chapter + fixing the smutty bits. this was orginally 2 chapters, but i wanted to tie things together here in one big ol' chapter and be evil so i hope you like it. total word count: 12.4k drop date: October 30th, 2023, 11:40am PST cross posted on AO3 here ← #3 | Series Masterlist | #5 →

October 13 (Saturday)

The sun has barely began its ascent in the morning sky, casting a soft, golden hue over the bustling campus of the university.

In the quiet of dawn, the world seems at peace, a stark contrast to everything that has been happening to you and everyone in the house the past week.

Jimin, however, has had little time to appreciate the tranquility of the morning. He finds himself reluctantly attending a brunch event in a neighboring city. This event is orchestrated by Sigma Mu Epsilon’s president, Irene, for one of her sorority gatherings. It is a pledging event as well as a chance for new recruits to network with sorority alumni, which ends with an auction. He doesn’t particularly want to be there; all he craves is a few more hours of sleep and maybe the chance to enjoy a semi-fancy dinner at Yardhouse with his friends later in the evening. Lately, Jimin has been growing tired of his vibrant yet exhausting social life, wondering if perhaps he isn’t cut out for it anymore. Maybe his fatigue is more about Irene than the lifestyle itself. Maybe he has never truly been in love with her. It wouldn’t be the first time he has mentally tapped out of a relationship or a situationship before the other party. He has gone out and slept with countless people over the years. Ever since the virginity race in high school, he hasn’t really stopped. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say he has the highest body count in the whole house, just a single person ahead of Jungkook.

When it comes to Jimin finding people, he becomes intrigued with them because of their appearance and sometimes their charming personality that compliments his own. Most of the flings he’s had only last about 3-4 weeks.

Irene is the first exception. You’re unsure why Jimin has been with her this long. Today marks 4 months since they’ve been dating, but seeing the way he’s forcing himself to go out for her sake, you aren’t sure he will last much longer.

While Jimin begrudgingly embarks on his mandatory brunch outing, it becomes the perfect cover for Beta Tau Sigma to set the stage for his surprise birthday party. Rising early, you see a glimpse of Jimin on his way out the door in a hurry as you walk downstairs.

You join Namjoon for breakfast, relieved to see a glimmer of his usual self returning after the rocky events of the past few days. As you engage in conversation, you encourage him to relax and unwind at Jimin's party later that night. He smiles in response, promising to do just that.

Meanwhile, Seokjin has a friend who is also attending the brunch: Tiffany Young, a graduate student in Sigma Mu Epsilon who is in the sorority event's organizing committee. She is currently sending him real-time updates on the brunch schedule. Jin enters the dining area walking as he types on his phone.

"Tiffany just texted me saying they’re going to be late," he says rather bluntly, which you can’t help but roll your eyes at.

"Typical sorority events." You mutter, finishing up your breakfast. Namjoon chuckles in response to your snarky remark, to which you send a knowing smirk his way.

After breakfast, you call out to Yoongi, who has just come downstairs. He looks up at you, a hint of curiosity in his eyes as you ask, "Ready to go?"

He flashes a small, enigmatic smile, reaching for the coat rack by the staircase to retrieve his eco-friendly shopping bags.

"I'm always ready for a trip to the store." he replies, holding the bags up, the corners of his lips quirking upward like a cat.

Together you leave for a shopping adventure to buy decorations for Jimin's surprise party. Meanwhile, Taehyung and Namjoon are in charge of the house cleaning duties, and preparing it for the evening's festivities. Seokjin and Jungkook are busy in the kitchen, getting the food and drinks area ready, while Hoseok has gone to Matthew's house to borrow his DJ setup for the party. Matthew and Hoseok are known to be close friends, not only as members of the dance team but also as active co-hosts of various parties together. At the store, you and Yoongi browse through the colorful array of decorations, selecting orange-colored streamers to adorn the house for the upcoming party. As you unroll a section of the streamer, you share your excitement. Your voice filled with anticipation.

"Tonight's going to be great," you muse, a smile playing on your lips. "A little kickback in the middle of the semester is exactly what we need."

"I thought so too. Things have been hectic lately." Yoongi nods in agreement, his expression mirroring your enthusiasm.

With a sly grin, you decide to tease him. You lean in closer to him, playfully suggesting,

"You know, we could always sneak off for a little alone time during the party."

Yoongi's eyes widen slightly from your alluring words, and for a moment, panic flashes across his features. But he quickly recovers, his lips curving into a flirtatious grin.

"Is that an invitation?" He responds, his voice laced with a teasing tone.

Your heart skips a beat at his reply, and you can't help but wonder if there's more to his words or if he’s just having fun playing your little game. He’s too good at this, you think. You don’t respond right away and continue shopping for party supplies, keeping the tension high until you decide to take the conversation on a more flirtatious edge.

"Well," you reply with a sultry smile. "I guess we'll have to see how the night unfolds, kitty boy. It's a surprise party, after all."

Yoongi's face closes in on yours as his hands reaches for another pack of multi-color balloons behind you. You feel a jolt of sensation shoot through you. The tension in your lower half filled with want intensifies, making your heart race faster. During these moments, you can't deny the magnetic pull between you two. The way he can be doing mundane things in a store or at home and somehow manage to drive you crazy. It's in the way he behaves, in the quiet cadence of his voice, in the soft glint of his eyes that holds galaxies within. You want to kiss him so bad right now and later on, but a part of you knows that would be difficult.

He leans closer to your ear, his voice dropping to a seductive murmur. "Always teasing me with the cat comments. I'll be looking forward to the surprise then, Angel."

The air between you crackles as the flame dies down and you both carry on with your shopping, each touch and lingering glance adding to the palpable tension building between you.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

As the day unfolds, Jimin's patience wears thin during the brunch with Irene. The restaurant's tea party-like ambiance, once vibrant and appealing, now feels stifling. Their relationship has felt too restricting, with Irene often taking the lead in making decisions, and Jimin has grown increasingly weary of it.

Irene, as usual, has taken the initiative to plan a birthday dinner for the two of them at Fogo de Chão, a fine dining restaurant known for its Brazilian churrasco experience. While it is undoubtedly a great place, Jimin can’t help but feel trapped by the lack of input he has in the relationship's direction. He wants to have a say, a sense of balance that has been sorely missing when he’s with Irene.

Jimin's mood is noticeably dampened as he drives back from the event at 6pm. His voice is tinged with exhaustion and annoyance as he speaks with you on the phone. You are calling to ask his ETA, but overhear Irene persisting he goes out to dinner with her. Her insistence is a stark reminder of the control she seems to exert over their relationship. You try to keep yourself together, but you know you are inching closer to yelling at the woman over her “pick me” behavior.

After you finish setting up, you take the remaining time to help Jin prepare a small lunch box cake with a Badtz-maru Sanrio character figure in the middle. A smile tugs at Jimin’s lips as you mention that you and Jin made a cake.

"Get here as soon as you can," you urge, "before I decide to eat the whole thing by myself!"

The warmth of your invitation and the prospect of spending the evening with you, perhaps accompanied by a few drinks with the guys, brings a genuine smile to Jimin's face. He can’t wait to be with you, if only to momentarily escape the complexities of his relationship with Irene. With a heartfelt response, he assures you.

"Looking forward to it, Honey," his voice filled with anticipation and a sense of longing.

As Jimin ends the call, he can’t help but notice Irene's displeased expression. She stares out of the window, her indifference to his plans more apparent than ever. Though, he is not worried about it at all. +++++++++

The moment has finally arrived. At 7 pm, Jimin approaches the front porch, Irene trailing behind him, completely unaware of the surprise lurking in the shadows. Everyone at the party is tucked away in their hiding spots behind the couch, their excitement barely contained. As he unlocks the door and steps inside, Irene right beside him, Jimin flicks on the lights in the living room.

Suddenly, the room explodes with a collective yell of

"Surprise!" Jimin, caught off guard, jolts in fear, his heart racing.

"Holy shit! Ya! You guys really scared the fuck out of me." he exclaims, breaking into laughter.

The surprise party has taken him by surprise. Even though he had a hunch it was coming, thanks to Taehyung's incessant giggling over his phone for the past few days. He knew it wasn’t Jennie making him act like that, that’s for sure. "I didn't expect a party with everyone I know on campus...thanks, guys!" Jimin grins, feeling truly touched by the effort put into the surprise.

As he looks around the room, he notices Taehyung and Jungkook approaching him. They playfully place a plastic crown on his head and a sash reading "It's a Boy!" around his shoulders. Laughter ripples through the room as people snicker, and Yoongi chimes in with an apology, claiming that Party City ran out of birthday boy sashes.

With the formalities out of the way, the party kicks into full gear. The guest list is a mix of Jimin's friends from the contemporary dance club, various fraternities and sororities on campus, and even some non-frat affiliated friends.The living room is illuminated with a kaleidoscope of colorful lights. The atmosphere buzzes with laughter, music, and the clinking of plastic red cups. Jimin, still wearing his "It’s a Boy!" sash, is now deeply engrossed in a competitive beer pong match with Taehyung, forming a formidable team they called “Taejin” and “Jikook”. The alcohol has clearly taken its toll, evident in their slightly unsteady aim and louder-than-usual banter.

As the game continues, Taehyung can't help but blurt out, "Did you know I took Jimin's virginity?" His words hang in the air, drawing incredulous stares from those around, including you.

"Ugh, you guys always say this when you're drunk!" You interject, trying to steer the conversation away from talking about their sex life at a party.

Jimin, never one to shy away from a chance to tease, chimes in, "And it's true!"

"But you guys never mention this sober!" you retort, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

Jin, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, adds, "They did! I let Tae borrow my car, and it happened there!"

You burst into laughter, finding the situation utterly absurd. Still, you keep count of these drunken confessions, each sudden new revelation making the story more unbelievable. It has to be a lie right?

Meanwhile, Jungkook simultaneously takes on the role of the bartender, expertly mixing drinks for the guests, showcasing his impressive bartending skills.

Amidst the revelry, you can't help but notice Jimin and Taehyung being touchy, their usual closeness amplified by the alcohol. It's a stark contrast to the way Jimin and Irene interact, their interactions either avoiding each other entirely or being laced together with passive-aggressiveness. You venture away from the bartending area, seeking a change of scenery. In the living room, you find Hoseok rolling up joints with Jackson and a few others. The smell of freshly rolled weed fills the air as they chat and prepare for a little smoke session.

Hwasa pats your back gently as she rushes to join the group on the couch, her eyes bright with excitement as she plucks a rolling paper from Jackson's stash. Jackson playfully protests, the two of them engaging in a lighthearted argument. Soyoon, seated nearby, can't help but laugh at their antics, thoroughly entertained by the playful banter unfolding before her. You move from this scene to observe Namjoon and Yoongi sharing a lighthearted moment over their drinks, a sense of nostalgia washes over you. It's a feeling akin to stumbling upon an old, cherished photograph from your past, a glimpse into a time when life felt simpler, and worries were few and far between.

You recall the days when your group was unbreakable. In those moments, laughter flowed freely, and the weight of responsibilities and adulthood hadn't yet pressed down on your shoulders. A past when late-night conversations and spontaneous adventures with your favorite boys was the norm. The memories of those carefree days still warm your heart.

Seeing Namjoon and Yoongi sharing a genuine laugh is a reminder of that bygone era. It's as if a fragment of your youth has been recaptured, if only for a fleeting moment. The rareness of this sight intensifies its significance, making it feel like a precious treasure rediscovered.

It's not lost on you that life has changed, and with it, your relationships have evolved. Responsibilities, relationships, and personal growth have nudged you all in different directions.

You decide to join them, curious about their take on the party. "So, how's the party for you two?" You inquire.

Namjoon grins, clearly enjoying the festivities. "It's been going well. Jungkook's a real good bartender. Since when did he become a mixologist?"

Yoongi chuckles and adds, "Since I took him to a bar with a fake ID over the summer and we tried different drinks. The Irish bomb started all of this. Taught him how to make one drink, and now he knows how to make like 30 different drinks."

You smirk playfully, teasing Jungkook's inventive nature. "Of course, the house genius had something to do with it. Always cooking up with ideas."

Yoongi cheeks flush at your compliment, which only makes you smile. Then, you shift the conversation toward Namjoon, still concerned about his well-being after the breakup with Jihyo. You wonder if he's still upset or if he's managed to move past it, both in terms of the relationship ending and the way it ended.

"Oh, I'm doing good," Namjoon assures you, his voice steady. "I think accumulated stress, coupled with that situation, got to me in the moment. But I'm doing better now after thinking about it more."

Relieved to hear that he's coping well, you offer a comforting gesture by rubbing his arm.

"I'm glad," you say sincerely. "we were all worried about you, so if you ever need anything, we're here for you. Me, Yoongs, Mimi, Tae, Koo, Jin, and Hope!"

Yoongi nods in agreement, silently echoing your sentiment. However, beneath his supportive exterior, a gnawing fear lingers. You step aside for a moment to grab a snack bag from the box to munch on, leaving Namjoon and Yoongi to chat. Namjoon leans toward Yoongi, his voice hushed.

"Hey, I'm gonna get her another drink from Jungkook."

Yoongi side-eyes Namjoon, a hint of curiosity in his gaze, and takes a sip from his whiskey.

"What drink are you gonna get her?"

“I was thinking a Mai Tai. She loves those.”

The cat-eyed man furrows his brow, a sense of unease crossing his features.

"I don't think that's a good idea." He cautions.

Namjoon raises an eyebrow, clearly puzzled. "What do you mean by that?" Yoongi takes another sip of his drink, contemplating the situation.

"You know, she hasn't liked Mai Tais since last year." He finally admits, alluding to the time you drank so many of them in one night and you swore off to never drink those again. "She switched to Pina Coladas as her preferred alcoholic drink. She even mentioned it on her birthday earlier this year."

"Oh, I didn't know. I guess I missed that." He looks at him, a tad surprised and maybe even a bit upset that he hadn't caught onto your changing tastes.

Yoongi mumbles under his breath, his jealousy flickering. "If you were as close to her as you think, you should've known."

Undeterred, Namjoon walks away, eventually returning with a Pina Colada in hand. He hands it to you with a smile as he sees you conversing with Yoongi. "Oh, Namjoon! Pina Colada? I'm surprised you remembered." You let out a giggle, a hint of appreciation in your voice.

He blushes a little, his confidence replaced by shyness. "I could never forget my favorite girl's drink."

Yoongi scoffs softly, his jealousy flaring up. He takes another sip of his whiskey, trying to calm the growing storm of emotions inside him. The alcohol burns his throat, but it does little to quell the turbulent thoughts swirling in his mind. He knows he needs to find a way to calm himself down. The alcohol isn't helping him at this moment. As you stand there talking with Namjoon, Yoongi watches you from the corner of his eye, lost in a sea of conflicting emotions. He's relieved that Namjoon's not stressing you with his previous relationship, but there's an undercurrent of fear plaguing him. He worries that this situationship, this tangled web of emotions you share, might lose its appeal to you.

Deep down, he knows that this fling serves as a distraction for both of you, something to hold onto in the midst of college life. But perhaps it's more than that. Perhaps you mean more to him than he's ready to admit while not under the influence of an intoxicating drink. The thought of you eventually moving on and finding someone else terrifies him more than he'd like to acknowledge.

On your end, you're equally conflicted. The seed of doubt and overthinking that Yoongi planted has taken root, and you find yourself questioning your own feelings. Is it just a casual fling, or is there something more beneath the surface? You don't want to admit it, not even to yourself, but there's a growing awareness that maybe, just maybe, this situationship has started to mean more to you than you initially thought.

The room buzzes with laughter and music, but in this moment, both of you are lost in the turmoil of your emotions, uncertain of where this journey will ultimately lead.

You decide to heed Yoongi's earlier suggestion of meeting in secret at the party, excusing yourself from the two men in the living room where everyone continues to have a good time. As you head upstairs, you discreetly signal to Yoongi that you'll be waiting for him in your room.

Once in your room, you decide to step out onto the balcony, feeling the crisp October air brush against your skin. The chill seems to awaken you from your drunken stupor, and you take a deep breath, gazing out into the night. The distant campus buildings are barely visible in the dim moonlight, and a plane streaks across the sky, leaving behind a trail of blinking lights.

Your phone suddenly vibrates in your hand, and you eagerly check it, expecting to see a message from Yoongi. However, as you read his response, a twinge of disappointment washes over you. Yoongi [11:02PM]: Sorry angel, i think it’s a bad idea right now.

Yoongi [11:02PM]: another time, okay?

Reading the pixelated words on a screen causes your chest to tighten, leaving you with a mix of emotions that you can't quite put your finger on. You're aware that your situationship with Yoongi is not committed or exclusive, yet you can't help but feel a pang of disappointment. It's a confusing feeling that leaves you standing on the balcony, contemplating the nature of your connection with Yoongi and wanting to run away from these thoughts. You look down from the balcony and notice Irene's dramatic exit from the party. She gets into a black car waiting at the curb, and not long after, it drives away. You don't think much of it until you hear the sliding door behind you open. At first, you assume it might be Yoongi changing his mind or teasing you about his earlier rejection. However, when you turn to see Jimin joining you, you feel a bit caught off guard.

"Oh, Darling? You're here? Why are you alone?"

"Oh, Mimi," you reply with a smile, brushing off his question. "I just wanted to sober up a bit. I don't want to spend tomorrow dealing with a hungover existential crisis while trying to get assignments done."

Jimin nods in understanding. "Fair enough."

You lean on the railing, propping your arms up, and watch Jimin as he continues speaking. "So, how's the party, birthday boy?"

"It's been fun so far, way better than whatever BS I did for most of the day." Jimin responds.

"Irene being too much?" You ask.

Jimin rolls his eyes.

"Yup." He seems like he's about to say more about Irene, but he changes the topic instead. "But you guys made my night. I'm not usually a 'receiving presents' type of guy, but Jin still gave me a Maple Story plush pouch with money earlier."

"Damn, that boy is more loaded than I thought,"

"Right!" Jimin agrees. "Tae got me a custom One Piece Zoro mug too." He chuckles cutely. "Oh, Yoongi hyung also said he's performing a special song for me from his upcoming mixtape at the party, so that's going to be wild as fuck." You can't help but laugh, a nervous chuckle escaping your lips as you try to make sense of the situation.

"Shit, now I feel bad that I didn't get you anything." You admit, feeling the corners of your lips curl into a playful smile. You stand up from the balcony railing, and your gaze locks with Jimin's as you lean against it, the party's background noise fading away in the distance.

"Is there anything else our birthday boy wants for his birthday?" You inquire, a glint of curiosity dancing in your eyes. Jimin's hesitation isn't lost on you, but his flirty expression keeps your attention, and you can't help but wonder where this is going.

Jimin closes the gap between you two until there is only a few mere inches from your lips, and his smile takes on a devilish edge. "A kiss."

“Huh.”

Your reaction is immediate. You freeze in place, wondering if perhaps the alcohol in your system has led you to misinterpret his words. The surprise has you giggling, a nervous, bubbling laughter that hints at uncertainty. "A kiss? Should I call Irene?" You tease, although a small part of you wonders if he's serious. You realize you're not entirely sure if you should take him seriously.

Jimin responds with a narrowed look, clearly expressing his desire, and it's evident that he means every word. "A kiss. From you.” He confirms, as he continues to close the distance between you, a playful gleam in his eyes. His breath, laced with the scent of alcohol, washes over you, making the situation feel even more surreal.

Despite your laughter, your heart races. You did not anticipate this, not from Jimin, not on his birthday, and not with Irene in the picture. It feels like a playful game at first, a continuation of your close friendship, but as the atmosphere grows heavier with tension, you're not quite sure where the line between friendship and something more blurs.

You attempt to regain your composure, using humor as a defense mechanism.

"Uh, Jimin? I know we used to do those playful goodbye cheek kisses and all, and you practiced your first kiss on me in middle school because we're besties, but is this even okay right now? You're with Irene, after all." Your words convey your uncertainty as you try to mentally process the situation.

Jimin doesn't miss a beat. "I broke up with her.”

Your response is disbelief. "Wait, you what?"

The shock makes you take a step back, and you try to understand why he chose this night, of all nights, to end things. You're genuinely concerned for Jimin. You know Irene been hitting several nerves for Jimin as of late, but to break up with her while at his own birthday party?

He explains their fight as you lean on the balcony, your gaze fixated on him. His words hang in the air, and you can't help but reflect on the turn of events.

"Oh...damn. I’m sorry," You finally reply, a mix of sympathy and understanding in your tone. You really don’t have much to say. You didn’t like her, that’s for sure. But two break ups in the same week, it’s kind of insane. There has to be some sudden explanation about how you were having a breakdown last week to suddenly everything being somewhat normal again after so long.

Jimin redirects the conversation with a flirty comment, catching you off guard yet again.

"So, my lips are free for a kiss.” He says, his eyes locked onto yours, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. As Jimin's words hang in the air, you look at him with a mix of disbelief and concern, hoping he'll snap back to his senses.

"Jimin…" You repeat his name, your voice carrying a tone of incredulity. You raise your hand to your face, rubbing your temples in an attempt to clear your head. This situation has grown far more complicated than you ever expected. You lock eyes with him, your expression stern, as you attempt to make him understand the implications of what he's asking. "Are you SURE, Park Jimin?" you insist, emphasizing his name with a hint of desperation.

You want to make sure he's aware of the potential consequences. Irene and Yoongi both occupy a significant place in your life, and crossing boundaries could jeopardize everything.

Jimin, however, seems untroubled by the complexities of the situation. He meets your gaze and lets out a playful giggle, his words light, "Just one won't hurt, Darling."

Your breath hitches as his lips come close, and you can feel the warmth radiating from him. Before you can fully process what's happening, he leans in and captures your lips in a surprising, lingering kiss. Your world momentarily narrows down to the sensation of his lips against yours, and you find yourself responding to the touch, your eyes closing as you sink into the moment.

The kiss is tender, passionate, and slightly intoxicating. It feels like time has stopped, yet it's over within a few heartbeats, lasting no more than seven seconds. Jimin withdraws, leaving you disheveled and breathless, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips as he chuckles.

"Thank you, Y/N." He says, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Best present I’ve gotten all day!”

With that, he turns and heads back downstairs to rejoin the party, leaving you standing on the balcony in a state of bewilderment.

Your thoughts spin in confusion. What the fuck just happened? This single, impulsive kiss has stirred up a whirlwind of emotions and questions, pushing the boundaries of your relationships with both Yoongi and Jimin. You're left in a daze, trying to make sense of it all.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

The kiss from Jimin is a secret you vow to bury deep within, a momentary lapse in a whirlwind of unexpected events. To dwell on it would be madness, and you need your sanity more than ever in this house. Thoughts about moving out or taking a semester off cross your mind for a brief moment. Living among these chaotic emotions is a constant test of your resilience, and you question whether you are cut out for it. You rejoin the party downstairs, a tumultuous mix of emotions whirling in your head. Just as you enter, you catch the sound of Yoongi strumming his guitar, and he begins to sing a song he composed for Jimin. It is called "Autumn Leaves," and the lyrics seem to pierce through the core of your being. “떨어져 날리는 저기 낙입처럼

Like the leaves over there fallen and fluttering,

힘없이 쓰러져만 가 내 사랑이

helplessly falling, my love is”

The words Yoongi sings feels like they are plucked from the depths of your own heart. As he plays the chords on his guitar, the lyrics echo the complexities of your current situation.

“저기 저 위태로워 보이는 낙업은 우리를 보는 것 같아서

Because those precarious dead leaves over there look like us

손이 닿으면 단숨에라도 바스라질 것만 같아서

Because they look like they'll crumble at any slightest touch

그저 바라만 봤지 가을의 바람과 같이

I just gazed at them like the autumn wind”

The song finishes, and the party continues, but the lyrics remain etched in your mind. Yoongi's music has always been a vessel to convey feelings and emotions. You can’t deny that it has a way of capturing your own sentiments.

The night eventually comes to a close, the soft glow of dawn peeking through the windows.

The next morning, you find yourself nestled between a pair of hungover Jungkook and Taehyung in Jin’s bed, funnily enough. The two of them obviously got an earful from Namjoon about their antics during the party, and you can’t help but laugh at the comical scene. Despite the complex relationships and tangled emotions, moments like this still remind you why you stay.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

October 23 (Tuesday) You manage to navigate the days after Jimin's birthday without any major upheavals. Now, a little over 10 days since then, time seems to be passing with an eerie calm. As the days pass, life takes on a sense of normalcy you hadn't felt in a while. You find yourself spending more time with Namjoon and Jimin, enjoying outings for rolled ice cream and accompanying Joon to the local MOMA to do one of his art history assignments. These moments of familiarity make you ponder whether things are settling back into a comforting routine or if you are merely avoiding the looming changes.

On the other hand, you still have your secret rendezvous with Yoongi . These moments are like carefully hidden gems in your hectic life. As you indulge in your intimacy, you keep a vigilant eye on the house, ensuring no prying eyes or unexpected interruptions. It has become somewhat of a routine, a small sanctuary amidst the stress and chaos of a college student life. Yoongi often uses the excuse of studying together to enter your room in secret, and it's during these stolen moments of him fingering you or eating you out that you find solace. You don’t forget to return the favor with a blowjob either.

However on this day, you and Yoongi decide to get a little friskier than usual, seeing and hearing that no one is home during this time of day. Not a common occurrence, sadly. The connection between you two grows deeper with each stolen moment, yet you can't shake the nagging uncertainty that lingers beneath the surface. Mainly about how Jimin’s kiss may have shifted your current reality even further than before.

Yoongi moves to sit in the middle of your bed, patting his thigh to signal you to sit on his lap. You do as he requests, and crawl over your bed to sit on his thighs. Your back is towards him, while you face the standing floral-bordered mirror in front of your bed. You never thought there’d be a situation where you look into this exact mirror during promiscuous activities, but you guess thanks to college anything’s possible. The thought of seeing Yoongi pushing himself in and out of you turns you on more than you want to admit. Surely, the memory of your escapade will imprint much deeper in your mind after watching yourself.

One of his hands comes down to caress your wet folds through your panties. Then he slides them to the side, thrusting two fingers inside you while his thumb rubs your sensitive spot. His other hand passes over your blue lacy tank top covered breasts while his mouth sucks gently on your neck. The mirror captures the sensual scene well. Watching yourself coupled with the stimulation from Yoongi’s skilled fingers leaves your head feeling hazy to the point you almost come. You’re about to moan his name, but quickly cover your mouth as he continues to penetrate his fingers deep inside of you. It’s the middle of the afternoon, golden beams of light shining through your window. While you know it’s very likely you two are alone right now, you can’t risk exposing this situationship no matter how good it feels.

"Yoongi…it feels good.” You breathe out after moving your hand from your lips, your voice barely louder than a whisper as your fingers gently tighten around his forearm.

"Are you enjoying it angel?" He asks in a husky tone, his warm breath caressing your right ear.

"Mhm…" You nod, a soft sigh escaping your lips.

His own lips curl into a sultry smile, as he increases the pace of his movements, his thumb working faster, sending waves of pleasure coursing throughout your body. You gently rest your head against the crook of his shoulder, and his lips seek out yours, locking in a fervent, passionate kiss. Your fingers instinctively wind through the soft strands of his hair, deepening the connection as your tongues entwined in an intimate dance.

Reluctantly, he withdraws his fingers from your trembling form, but they don't go far. Instead, he guides them to your lips. With a hint of a seductive smile, you obediently take his fingers into your mouth. Your tongue dances around them, savoring the captivating blend of your own essence. Meanwhile, his hard dick is pressing against you begging for attention.

"Do you want me?"

"S-so fucking bad…please, Yoongi.” You manage to breathe out, your voice heavy with longing.

Yoongi’s arm stretches over to your bedside table drawer to grab a condom he keeps hidden in there, rolling it down his cock quickly without losing momentum. He kisses you while running his hands along the sides of your waist and then gropes your covered breasts. You hold his cock, lifting yourself up to line his tip up with your entrance. Suddenly, Yoongi holds your chin, forcing your head forward so you can see him pushing himself further inside of you and spreading your folds in the mirror. You groan at the sight and start bouncing slowly into his lap as his hands grip your hips keeping you in place.

The surging heat envelopes your entire being, your legs parting and trembling with an electric fervor. Sensing your waning strength, he adjusts his motions, guiding you upward and causing your head to tilt back in ecstasy.

"Don't take your eyes off the mirror, Angel. Look.” He grabs your chin to face the mirror once more. “Look how well you're taking me. You're so good at this Y/N." He says, holding your hips with the other hand, thrusting into you even harder and faster.

You two are close to coming and you can barely keep up with his pace. He slides one hand down to rub your bud while the other cups your neck and tilts your head to kiss you. His thrusts slow taking in the feeling of your kiss and the sweet sounds of you moaning into each other’s mouths. He continues to rub your clit until you come while moaning his name. He quickly covers your mouth muffling your continues sounds of pleasure. You feel him also come into the condom right after. He lifts you up to withdraw from within you. He holds you to prevent you from falling from exhaustion and places you back on the mattress to catch your breath. You are quite exhausted and sweaty, he looks at you and smiles.

After the two of you take a breather and rest for a bit, you and Yoongi return to studying on your bed as if nothing happened. You like the normalcy of things like this. The atmosphere feels light and comfortable as you converse through psych homework. You decide to change up the conversation. Halloween is approaching, and you bring up the idea of attending Matthew's Halloween party at DSP's house.

"I was talking to Hwasa yesterday," you begin with curiosity lacing your words, "and she said Matthew's throwing a big Halloween rager at DSP's house next week.” “Mhm.” Yoongi hums, waiting for you to go on. “I was thinking that we should go!” Yoongi looks as if he wants to say something, but can’t bring himself to do it as he sees you speak with stars in your eyes. He knows Halloween is one of your favorite holidays aside from Christmas, so he lets you ramble on with your suggestion. “We could dress as something silly, like Pokemon onesies, or we can do a sexy concept that makes us so hot we look dumb...like an angel and demon pairing?" You both share a laugh, but as the mirth subsides, Yoongi grows pensive.

"Y/N, that sounds great, but I've been meaning to tell you, I'm—"

You interrupt with a hint of panic, "Is this about our situationship? Do you want to end it now?" Your eyes widen, fearing the worst.

"What?" Yoongi chuckles, pouncing to wrap you in a warm hug. "No! I'm going to be out of town for half of next week."

"Huh? Wait. Oh my God, Yoongi, is this for the Future of Music Conference?" You recall Yoongi mentioning the conference back in September.

It is a big deal, and he’s been tirelessly working as a TA for Professor Kang, which is why he’s been so busy lately. You guess it's finally paying off. Yoongi has another year left until he finishes undergrad, and he is hoping to start working in the industry right after. However, it’s not easy to get a job without experience, so he is hoping to network and get an internship before then.

"Yeah, that's the one," Yoongi confirms with a nod. "I'll probably be on a flight to Los Angeles the evening of the 31st."

“Oh no…” Your expression falls as the realization sinks in.

The prospect of spending Halloween without Yoongi is disappointing. You can’t help but entertain some steamy thoughts, like imagining him wearing a scream mask as he fucks you. The internet has you thinking up a couple of ideas lately. However, you can’t help but feel a mixture of happiness for him making moves and somewhat sadness feeling that you are holding Yoongi back from the chance to get more involved in music. Yoongi's gentle touch reassures you, making you feel secure in this complex, secretive relationship. He seeks to understand your hesitation.

"Yeah, but why did you think I was ending this?" he asks, gesturing towards the tangled bond you both shared.

"The way you said it sounded too serious. Sometimes I’m not sure what to expect from you, Yoongs." You reply, your voice tinged with the caution you'd learned from past experiences.

You don’t want to blame Yoongi if he wants to end the affair and return to being just best friends, without the complications that come with it.

"I'm fine with this…unless you don't want to do this anymore." Yoongi assures you, his respect for your decisions unwavering.

Sometimes, you ponder the significance of continuing this secret relationship. Namjoon is no longer with Jihyo, and Jimin has also parted ways with Irene. You have more time to spend with your friends, and you’ve been enjoying activities with them. Despite all this, you can’t bring yourself to end things with Yoongi, and you can’t fully understand why. Are you catching feelings for him?

"No, I still want to keep this up, probably as long as we can." you reply, your feelings conflicted and unclear.

Your thoughts turn briefly to Jimin's kiss, which has left a lingering impact. For some reason, it felt different from Yoongi's kisses. Not better or worse, just different, with unique emotions woven into it.

“I won’t push you Angel, but just let me know whenever you want to stop this. I promise you that I will always be your best friend no matter what.”

Yoongi then pulls you down onto the bed, and you both drift into a peaceful nap together, the unspoken complexities of your relationships lingering in the air.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

October 31 (Wednesday) As you finish applying makeup on your knees in front of your mirror, surrounded by scattered makeup items, you check the time on your clock and see it's already 8:25. Yoongi's flight is set to depart at 8:50, and you reminisce about his early departure earlier in the day. He left with his luggage in hand, bidding you goodbye with a pat on the head, in the presence of Jungkook, Hoseok, and Namjoon. You hadn’t had the chance to hang out with Yoongi much since last week. Once he told everyone the news that he was going to the music conference, Yoongi went into strictly producer mode. He wanted to have a solid four song demo tracklist to showcase to professional producers and artists attending the conference in hopes of getting signed. Before he left, he said his schedule would be packed with various panels and activities for the next few days. He mentioned he’ll have some downtime and will text you before his return on Monday.

You rise from your seat on the floor and reach for the angel costume on your bed, changing into it. This is the outfit you chose when Hwasa took you to Spirit Halloween earlier that week, where the two of you picked your costumes together. As you gaze into the mirror, a myriad of thoughts swirl in your head, all stemming from that night on the balcony when Jimin kissed you. Even now, with Yoongi as your fuck buddy, the memory of Jimin's lips lingers in your thoughts. It's becoming a persistent distraction, and you find your mind often wandering back to that stolen kiss. The days have only made this internal conflict intensify, leaving you feeling increasingly torn between whatever you have with Yoongi and whatever is brewing with Jimin. You hear a knock on your door, breaking the spell of thoughts on your mind. You rush to open it, revealing Namjoon on the other side. He's dressed in a Hogwarts school uniform, complete with thick-rimmed glasses and a Gryffindor cloak over his outfit.

"You look so cute, Joonie!" You compliment him.

"Really?" He asks, a hint of shyness in his tone.

"Yeah, the whole look suits you well. Pair it up with your British accent, and it'll be even better," You tease, and you both share a laugh.

"Thanks, I'll do that too. You..." Namjoon's eyes roam your body, his gaze landing on the sleeveless, short white dress you're sporting for the party. "look really good too, Tiny." His gaze lingers on your cleavage for a moment before you catch on.

"Really? Good! I spent the last hour going through Tiktok for makeup tutorials, and I was so close to giving up and not going anymore.” You admit with a chuckle.

"Seriously, you look great! Where are you heading tonight?" Namjoon inquires.

"I was going to go to Dark Side with Hwasa and the other girls. We're planning to go to DSP's party since Matthew kindly extended the invite a few weeks ago." You explain.

Dark Side is a neighborhood on the southwest side of campus known for throwing wild and raunchy parties. You'd never venture there alone, but with the girls there as well as Jungkook, Taehyung, Hoseok and Jimin heading to DSP later, you'll have trustworthy friends close by.

"I'll try to swing by later tonight too. I'll be on Light Side, Halloween bar hopping with John, Zico, and San for Jin's frat event. Drinks are $1 for two hours, and I don't want to miss that." Namjoon shares with a chuckle.

"Oh, that sounds fun too, but I want to spend time with the girls this one time, so I gotta pass. Send my regards to Jinnie for me." You say with a smile.

"Of course." Namjoon replies.

"Is BTS' angel ready to go?" Hwasa, dressed as The Bride from Kill Bill, peeks into your room next to Namjoon.

"Kill Bill?" Namjoon raises an eyebrow at her choice.

"Yeah, why not? SZA made it trendy again." Hwasa scoffs, playfully defending her costume.

"Okay, you two! I don't want to see Harry Potter and The Bride fight to the death in my room. Let's go get wasted, shall we?" You say, intervening.

"Fine!" They reply in unison, and together you head downstairs to find the rest of your friends. Grim Reaper Soyoon, Barbie Cowgirl Jieun, and Dorothy Soohyun, are waiting by the door for you. You head out together, bidding Namjoon and Jin, who are making food in the kitchen, goodbye.

++++++++++++

As you arrive at Matthew's frat house, you can't help but be awestruck by the eerie Halloween atmosphere that greets you. The whole house is bathed in a sinister red lighting, casting an unsettling glow on everything it touches. A mysterious haze hangs in the air, making your every breath feel like a step into the unknown. You aren’t sure if it’s coming from a fog machine or the smoke of people hotboxing the house with weed, but it adds ambience. String lights are meandered throughout the house, resembling spider web-like streamers that cling to the walls and ceilings, giving the place an otherworldly feel. Enormous pumpkins and grinning skulls adorn various corners, casting ominous shadows. The centerpiece of the decorations is a giant tapestry in the living room featuring a hauntingly detailed skull and the bold letters "DSP HALLOWEEN RAGER 20XX" leaving no doubt that DSP going all out for Halloween is definitely their frat tradition.

You and the girls continue exploring the house, drinking whatever glittery purple concoction was in one of several cauldrons by the alcohol table, immersing yourselves further into the atmosphere. Loud music reverberates through the air, colorful lights flash, and costumed partygoers fill every corner.

You're glad you chose to come as an angel. The outfit is simple: a white satin corset dress, white pumps, paired with feathered wings and a shimmering halo headband to add a touch of ethereal charm. It's easy to move around and dance without feeling too weighed down. The alcohol flows freely, infusing everyone with a giddy sense of euphoria. The beats of the music thump in your chest, electrifying the atmosphere even more. You and the girls can't help but dance once you get closer to the music, caught in the moment.

Matthew, who has been DJing with his fellow Delta, Somin, takes a break and strolls over to your group with a tray of tequila shots. His tracks have been setting the perfect vibe for the party since you got there, blending seamlessly with the pulsating energy in the room. From Beyonce to Doja to Michael Jackson to Post Malone.

"Hey, ladies!" He greets you and the girls with a charismatic grin. He's dressed as a '90s grunge rocker, his outfit complete with ripped jeans, a band tee, and a flannel shirt tied around his waist. “I brought y’all some shots! It’s from my special Don Julio stash.” Soyoon looks at the tray, surprised with the VIP treatment from DSP’s President. “Really? Wow, that’s awesome. Thanks Matthew.”

“Nah, it’s nothing!” “Cheers!" You all chimed in unison, lifting your shot glasses high to clink together before downing them. The tequila's warmth coursing through you.

"Matthew, I gotta say, you're killing it as the DJ tonight!" Hwasa exclaims.

Matthew chuckles modestly. "Thanks, Hyejin. Always a pleasure to make y’all dance. And Y/N, you look truly angelic, by the way." His compliment comes with a wink and a nod of approval.

"Aw, thank you, Matthew! You're not looking too shabby yourself as a '90s rockstar." You reply with a grin as you sip your drink.

As you chat, Matthew offers you and the girls some insights into the party scene tonight.

"It’s pretty packed here tonight. A lot of the Gamma guys and Psi peeps decided to come by. GOT doesn't usually do Halloween parties, and I’m sure y’all already know that DSP is the go-to spot for Halloween festivities on campus. Y’all better dance and drink safely, alright? Let me know if y’all need anything." You all nod and thank him for his consideration for your safety.

Hearing about the Gamma guys' presence, you can't help but wonder if Jaebeom is among them. You do not want an awkward and uncomfortable run in with him or any of his Gamma buds.

The night progresses, and as you engage in the festivities, you can't help but feel a growing sense of nostalgia and longing for Yoongi. Halloween had always been a cherished tradition for both of you since childhood. You would go trick-or-treating with the 3 boys under the guidance of Yoongi’s older brother and then eventually spending Halloween nights watching slasher films, which Yoongi hated, but watched knowing how much you and Jimin liked them. Not having him by your side this time felt lonely. And while the worries about Namjoon and Jimin's romantic involvements had dissipated, the absence of Yoongi left a void in the group that you couldn't ignore.

Despite this yearning for him to be here, thoughts of Jimin continued to intrude, making you feel conflicted. You remember the playful cheek kisses and innocent pecks on the cheek that you and Jimin used to share as best friends, but now the thought of that happening again feels entirely different. That birthday kiss was not like the past ones.

The more alcohol you consume, the more Jimin's presence continues to tug your mind, creating a sense of inner turmoil. You remind yourself that you don’t owe Yoongi exclusivity, yet your arrangement with him still hung heavily in the back of your mind.

Fuck, you feel yourself falling into insanity.

Not long after you start feeling like you’re going crazy, Jimin, Taehyung, Hoseok, and Jungkook finally show up. You glance at each of their costumes: Taehyung is dressed as a character from Bridgerton, while Hoseok is all out as a pirate. This is great, you think to yourself. However, as your eyes move to Jimin, you find it hard to maintain your composure. His vampire costume is equal parts charming and alluring, and your slightly intoxicated state makes it difficult to look him in the eyes. His demeanor is relaxed, but he's no stranger to reading people's body language. You have managed to act like nothing has been picking at your brain when talking with him the past weeks since his birthday, but that’s not the case right now. Jungkook, wearing a Rocky boxing costume, gently shakes your shoulder asking if you’re good, to which you say yes. You’re lying, which Jimin takes note of.

In the kitchen, while you chat and laugh with the group, you find your gaze involuntarily drawn to Jimin more than once. At one point, your flustered state leads to an accidental mishap – you drop your drink. Thankfully, it's a party, and no one minds a small accident.

Jimin notices your nervousness and the way you keep fidgeting. He smiles playfully, sensing your discomfort but not mentioning it outright. You're grateful for his discretion. The chemistry between you and Jimin has shifted since his birthday party, and navigating this new territory is both nerve wracking and a little confusing.

After a brief chat with your girls and guys, you all part ways to continue navigating DSP’s party and its many alcohol-filled Halloween activities. Your constant urge to keep your eye on Jimin continues despite the large crowd of people filing in and out of the house. You are standing next to Soyoon and Jieun playing King’s Cup against Sigma Kappa Zeta’s Chris and a group of other guys, as you glance at the other side of the house seeing the dance floor filled with familiar faces.

And there he is again. Jimin.

There are a few girls dressed as Barbie clones circling around him, trying to grind against him, but their attention on him doesn’t faze you. This phenomenon is quite familiar when it comes to Jimin. He’s gorgeous, everyone knows it, and everyone wants him.

However, you remained immune to what they commonly refer to as the "Jimin Effect." Jimin himself is well aware of the impact he has on others, but for you, he is simply Jimin, a close friend, and nothing more. You never thought of anything more with him. He'd try to tease you at times by giving you cheek kisses because it's what French people do when they say hello or goodbye. "It's just faire la bise.” he'd say, but it'd be a ploy to see if you'd crack. You didn't.

There was a time, though, when you spent more time with Jimin than with Namjoon or Yoongi. The latter two had started high school, which was situated across town from where you lived. Your daily interactions with them dwindled because of the new commitments and distance.

However, one day, you noticed a change in Jimin's behavior. He seemed anxious, fidgety even. It was then that he asked you a rather unexpected question.

"Could you be my practice partner for my first official kiss?"

Your eyes widened, convinced that he was pulling your leg with one of his classic pranks. You inquired if he was serious, and he assured you he was genuinely seeking your assistance for something he had no idea how to do, even though he found it embarrassing to admit. Recognizing his sincere plea for help, you decided to assist him. Your initial attempts during after-school sessions proved fruitless, but after watching "The Notebook" together one afternoon, you decided to replicate one of the film's romantic kissing scenes. At first, it felt awkward, and the two of you couldn't help but chuckle after. But as the scene played out repeatedly, you began to notice a subtle shift. The practice had evolved into something; there was a growing intimacy in each kiss you shared. And this was how you too, had your first kiss. Jimin's nervousness gradually transformed into comfort, and you noticed how his lips became more confident against yours. His sweet laughter and warm smile during your practices caused a shift. You found yourself thinking about him more often than you’d want to admit to anyone.

As time went on, you both became increasingly comfortable in each other's presence. While these practice sessions were meant to be lighthearted, they grew into meaningful moments for the two of you.

Though this period was fleeting, like to the ephemeral beauty of cherry blossoms in spring, their brief existence was marked by a burst of color before gracefully scattering away. Much like those delicate petals, your shared moments of intimacy came to an end, not lasting beyond that season.

Jimin got his "official first kiss" from one of the girls he admired in your 8th-grade history class. As you both stepped into high school, he had started seeing and dating a series of people. He continued on as if that time was just a dream. Namjoon and Yoongi never learned of what transpired between you two. And you too, had continued to live your life like nothing had happened during that spring of your final year in middle school.

Until now. "Y/N!" Jimin's voice pierces through the loud music and chatter.

You snap back to the present, his call pulling you out of the distant memories from long ago. Your eyes widen in surprise, wondering why he is calling your name so urgently. Before you can react, he exchanges some quick words with the girls around him and makes his way toward you. You will your feet to move forward to meet him. You are about to ask about the urgency when Jimin speaks first.

"I needed an excuse." He confesses, his shoulders slumping with a sigh, "I couldn't get rid of them."

Ah, classic Jimin. A smile tugs at your lips as he runs his hand through his hair in a way that you know well. You aren’t sure why you feel a rush of giddiness knowing he chose you over the other girls.

"Let's dance, darling?" Jimin suggests, breath warm against your ear. His words make your brows furrow. You tilt your head, teasingly skeptical.

"Are you drunk right now?"

"You know I've got a high alcohol tolerance." He replies, his confidence unshaken.

"Whatever you say, Mr. Park.” You concede, and with that, he pulls you deeper into the crowd on the dance floor, ready to let the music and the moment carry you both away.

In the dimly lit embrace of the dance floor, you find yourself swaying to the beat of Take My Breath by The Weeknd, creating a world of sensuality around you. Jimin's strong hands confidently claim the small of your back, and his touch sends a wave of heat radiating through your body. Together, you move with grace, entangled in a slow, seductive dance that defies the pulsating rhythm around you.

Your fingers glide along the contours of his muscular cape-covered shoulder, and you're entranced by the intense connection in his dark, probing eyes. Each sinuous movement feels like a secret conversation, a silent language whispered through touch.

Jimin's warm breath, tinged with a hint of alcohol, brushes against your earlobe as he guides you even closer. The sensation of his lips softly grazing your neck sent a shiver down your spine, intensifying the yearning that courses through every nerve. As his hands caress your body, his cologne, a scent different from the one he used to wear, envelopes you, adding to your growing sense of intoxication. The fragrance was a symphony of warm, vanilla notes, creating an intoxicating blend that only heightens your desire.

The world outside your bubble seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you in this sensual realm. The chemistry between you intensifies with every caress, each gentle press of your bodies, as you're pulled deeper into a realm of unspoken longing.

The sweet agony of desire intensifies, and your souls unite, dancing to a silent melody that pulses with yearning and passion. In this enchanted moment, you are giving in to the irresistible pull of the night, surrendering to the all-consuming allure that keeps you locked in your sensual dance. Suddenly, you are pulled out of your blissful daze as you notice Hogwarts student Namjoon and Navy Captain Jin enter the front door. You quickly pull apart from Jimin as you see them nearing. While you and Jimin promiscuously dancing isn't a new sight for any of your housemates, for some reason, you can't help but stop. The action even surprises you. Jimin's lust-filled eyes widen, wondering if he did something wrong.

Namjoon soon approaches behind Jimin, which scares him a little. "Made it just in time, you two."

"Namjoon!" You say in unison, but in different tones.

Namjoon looks at the two of you lovingly. "Finally, the avengers are all together."

"Well except Yoongi hyung," Jimin points out in a somber tone.

In that split second, you remember again that Yoongi isn’t there. You check your phone in your bag to see if he sent you any LA updates, to which he had about 5 minutes ago. Yoongi [10:23pm] : I landed. Safe and Sound. 👍

Yoongi [10:23pm] : In the city of angels without my angel :(

Yoongi pulling out your nickname in that second text has you flustered for a second. Thank God the lighting is red here or else you’d be questioned until no end.

"Why don’t we take a picture together to send to him! Let him know we're together."

The other two men nod, and you hand your phone to Namjoon, with the longest arms, to take a selca together. The three of you squeeze together, Jimin in the middle, and Namjoon stretches his arm as far as he can to capture the perfect shot.

"Got it!" Namjoon grins, showing the picture to all of you.

You take a moment to admire it. It's a funny picture: Namjoon with his typical fuckboy smile, Jimin kissing your temple while winking his eye at the camera, and you holding up a peace sign capturing the essence of your overall shared bond.

You [10:29PM]: [Photo Attachment]

You [10:30PM]: Good to know, but we miss our favority kitty boy bestie here with us :(

As you send it to Yoongi, you can't help but hope he'll find a way to have a good time tonight. You wonder how things would’ve been different tonight if he was around. Would you still be lusting for Jimin while Yoongi’s with you? Or would your wicked thoughts have you wanting them both. You choose not to think about it more. In a distant city, Yoongi feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and quickly retrieves it to find a new photo message from you. Upon opening it, he sees a picture of Namjoon, Jimin, and you. While he would typically be thrilled to see a photo of all of you, an uneasy feeling creeps into the pit of his stomach when he sees Jimin kissing your temple. He decides to wait awhile until he’s more situated in his hotel room to respond.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

You tell yourself you can't continue to be around Jimin tonight. That's why you escape your two best friends and find yourself outside with Soohyun and Hwasa, navigating a makeshift haunted maze set up by DSP in their backyard. After making it out alive, the three of you decide to take a breather. It's during this moment of respite that Hwasa decides to address the elephant in the room. "So, when are you going to stop running away from Jimin tonight?" Hwasa speaks up, causing Sooyoung to gasp.

"Damn you, Ahn Hyejin, and your psychic senses!" You curse half-jokingly. Sooyoung, being candid as ever, chimes in, "To be fair, you couldn't keep your eyes off him earlier." "Honey is up to no good, it seems," Hwasa narrows her eyes at you, hinting at what she already knows about you and Yoongi, but not what's up with Jimin.

Afraid you might spill more than necessary with strangers potentially overhearing your conversation, you hastily excuse yourself, claiming you need to use the bathroom. You head back inside through the side door. As you scan the room, you don't spot Jimin anywhere, making you wonder if he's left for another party.

You’re kind of relieved you can finally breathe in peace.

You grab your phone from your bag to check to see if Yoongi had replied back to the photo from earlier, but you only see that he read it not long after you sent it. You don’t think much of it. Maybe he’s busy with the others that went on the trip with him. At the same time you feel a bit worried.

You make your way upstairs and locate a door that you assume leads to a bathroom. Jackson is standing in front of it, looking out of it. Is he high? You ask him to move, and he manages to shuffle away. In your haste, you swing open the door, slam it shut behind you, and make sure you locked it. However, once you turn around to look at your surroundings, you realize you walked into a bedroom, not a bathroom. Inside, you find Jimin sitting on the bed, holding a barely smoked blunt. The scent of marijuana hangs in the air, and the dimly lit room adds to the surreal atmosphere.

"Y/N?" Jimin's voice sounds both surprised and somewhat amused, his eyes glistening with the effects of the weed. He takes another hit from the blunt before carefully setting it aside.

God, you have no mercy tonight, it seems.

"I was trying to find the bathroom...but, um, I didn’t know you smoked weed." You comment, regarding him with a curious expression.

"Okay, well, I started smoking with Hoseok at the back of the house during the summer, but Irene didn't like the smell and told me to cut it out."

"Ah, I see." You acknowledge with a nod, the mention of Irene casting a shadow over your curiosity. Consequently, you opt not to probe further into the matter.

You remain there, gazing at Jimin, who returns your gaze intently. Although you momentarily consider fleeing the situation, for some inexplicable reason, you find yourself unable to move. Completely frozen in this moment with your best friend, trapped in what appears to be Matthew's bedroom.

Your attention dips to Jimin's rosy, plump lips, appearing irresistibly kissable. A dangerous impulse, stirred by the alcohol coursing through your veins, threatens to push you toward a regrettable choice. This isn't good.

"Did I finally win?" Jimin giggles.

"Huh?" You respond, your perplexed expression once again betraying your internal thoughts. What does he mean? Surely not what you're thinking…

Jimin's laughter deepens, whether fueled by the weed or your confused reaction, it's hard to tell. Abruptly, he rises from the bed, grabs your hands, and pulls you back onto the bed with him. You find yourself beneath him, your breath quickening. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, studying you with admiration.

"You've finally fallen under the 'Jimin effect,' huh? Did that birthday kiss really hit you that hard?" He teases.

"Ugh!" You groan, hiding your face behind one of your hands with your phone in the other hand, letting out a resigned sigh. "I can't hide anything from you, can I?"

"I knew it!"

"Okay yes! Fine! I've been thinking about it since the party!” You admit, embarrassed to hear your own voice say this to his face.

Jimin's eyebrows arch curiously as he asks, "What have you been thinking about?"

“...Wanting to kiss you again.” You mumble, your frustration apparent.

"Then why won’t you just do it?”

You’re caught off guard by this question. Why won’t you do it? What’s stopping you? Yoongi? You’re not dating him though. But was it ever established that you would be exclusive to each other? Your semi-intoxicated brain can’t remember what rules you two set in place.

Though, the more you think about your answer to Jimin’s question, the more you start to remember what Yoongi asked many nights ago. Your semi-intoxicated brain struggles to recall the boundaries you had set. You told Yoongi that Jimin was like a brother who can empathize with you, but is that really the case? What if you’re more afraid of acknowledging some underlying feelings, not just for Jimin but also for Yoongi and Namjoon? In an ideal world, you’d love to spend your life with all of them, but the harsh reality might not allow it.

“I-I don’t know…” You stutter.

"Well, do you want to do it again then…" Jimin speaks slowly, as if sensing that he, too, is hesitant about what he wants to do next with you. “...Darling?”

Your nod slowly, a bit hesitant, but still eager in your actions. Recalling Jimin's preference for explicit consent, you affirm, "Yes."

With that assurance, Jimin closes the remaining distance between your lips. The moment his mouth meets yours, it's as if a long-held tension is released. The kiss is soft, a gentle exploration of the warmth and tenderness that lies beneath the surface. His fingers lightly trace the contours of your face, brushing over your cheek and down to your jaw, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. Your own hands find their way to his back, fingers curling slightly into the fabric of his cape as you pull him closer.

Time seems to stand still as the world outside fades into insignificance.

Jimin's kisses gradually deepen, turning more passionate and fervent. The taste of his lips, combined with the lingering scent of weed in the air, fuels a heady desire that sweeps through you. Sour candy. It’s the only way you could describe it. Like the sweet citrus cocktail you saw him drink earlier that night.

His fingers brush across the sensitive skin of your neck and collarbone before he cups your breast in his hand. Jimin kneads your breast over the fabric of the dress for a moment before you help him free them. He breaks the kiss to swoop down and take one of your hard nipples into his mouth. Jimin swirls his tongue once before sucking the bud into his mouth and releasing far too soon. He plants a few kisses on your exposed breasts leaving you only wanted more.

He pulls you back to continue kissing and a soft moan escapes your lips muffled by Jimin's mouth. You can't help but think about your complicated feelings and the new questions that have surfaced. You're not sure where this will lead, but for now, all that matters is this. The sound of surrender to his advances.

“Touch me more…I want to feel you…please….”

Jimin pushes your dress up roughly and slides your panties down your legs discarding them over the end of the bed. He hungrily looks at you. Your whole body is itching for more of him. It feels like your whole body is on fire.

He brings his hand down, slipping his fingers inside of you. He moves slowly at first, teasing you like he always does. Although now, you are in a completely different situation than ever before. Your face contorts in pleasure as he changes speed, plunging his fingers in and out of your pussy with purpose.

Jimin finds your clit with the thumb of the hand deep inside you and you moan as he presses his thumb onto the sensitive area. His other fingers explore your walls, circling them softly and pushing ever so gently against them. You feel like you’re going to explode into a million pieces with each tantalizing motion of his fingers. He looks up at you as he giggles. He knows that he has corrupted you completely with his own fingers and there is no turning back now. You faintly get a sense of Deja Vu.

Your breathing becomes heavy as he starts thrusting his fingers in and out of you, faster and faster as the pleasure intensifies. As you feel you’re incredibly close to reaching an orgasm, suddenly, you hear your phone vibrate aside you. This sound catches Jimin’s attention.

His hand moves to grab your phone to see that a text message came in.

From Yoongi.

“Yoongi hyung?”

Your eyes immediately widened, panic setting in.

“J-Jimin! Give me the phone!” You yelp out despite your hazy brain continuing to bask in the pleasure of Jimin’s fingers. You know that while Yoongi's message might be harmless, you can’t risk Jimin stumbling upon your previous conversations with him. The consequences of that discovery are unknown, and you don’t want to find out.

"But I want to reply to Hyung!" Jimin protests playfully.

"N-No, I'll reply!" You insist, desperation in your voice.

Jimin's eyes shift from the screen to you, and he asks with a hint of suspicion, "So needy…Y/N, is there something you're hiding?"

His gaze bores into yours, and you can sense that he is more perceptive than you have anticipated.

Jimin's question hangs in the air, and you feel the weight of it pressing on you. Your hazy thoughts race as you struggle to come up with a plausible explanation.

He removes his fingers from inside you, leaving you on the brink of an orgasm with your pussy clenching around the air. The abrupt halt to the intense sensation leaves you breathless, aching for release, and a soft whimper escapes your lips as Jimin withdraws his fingers. His revelation, however, catches you by surprise, and you are momentarily stunned.

"I have an idea of what's been going on," He admits, his voice low and laced with a suspicious bounce in the tone. "But I want to hear it from you. What's going on with you and Hyung?"

Your mind races, torn between loyalty to Yoongi and the trust you hold for Jimin. Your immediate urge is to lie, but Jimin has known you for years, and lying to his face would hurt you and feel disrespectful towards him. On the other hand, you told Yoongi you wouldn’t tell anyone in the house and you wouldn’t want him to get hurt either.

Jimin's proximity makes it even more difficult to keep your secrets hidden. He leans in close, his warm breath against your ear as he whispers, "If you tell me, I'll keep going. If you don't, we stop, and we can pretend this never happened."

A part of Jimin thinks he’s going too far with this game, but after the break up with Irene, he knew immediately what he wanted. You. He spent far too long running away from his own feelings. If he keeps doing that, you will eventually leave his side permanently. He cares too much about you and doesn’t want someone else to pull you away. He is unsure if his Hyungs feel the same about you.

His offer hangs in the air, a tempting proposition. You wrestle with your thoughts, torn between loyalty, desire, and the need for honesty.

As if the current atmosphere isn’t tense enough, Yoongi proceeds to call you, which you identify by his customized ringtone.

Against all odds in this enclosed space, you respond.

“Jimin…you can hate me for this and I have my reasons for wanting this, but for the past few weeks…” You take a deep breathe before saying what you most likely will regret telling him. God, you need to pray that this will end well somehow.

“I’ve been sleeping with Yoongi.”

----

tbc!!! a/n: i hope i left y'all wanting to learn more about what's going to happen. do you have an theories. i'd love to heart about them so lmk hehehe thank you all for reading! i had to post this just in time for halloween but i wanted it take my time fleshing it out for y'all before letting this work fly out. if you did enjoy, please interact however you can! reblog, like, share with friends!

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