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faevi · 10 months

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GUNSHOT OF LOVE. - (gojo smut)

Scenario: You trust Gojo Satoru so much, even if he has a gun to your head. You'd do anything he says, with or without the gun. That's true love & loyalty.

Word Count: 10,167.

Content / Trigger Warning: PLEASE READ ALL OF THEM. female reader (she/her), DARK CONTENT, GUN-PLAY(!!); sucking on it, weapon touching intimate areas, pulling the trigger (no actual bullets), etc. threats; including death threats(!!), degradation, humiliation, pet-names, praise, spanking, tit slapping, dacryphilia/crying, sex over a desk (being bent over it), fear play, power play, blowjob, throat-fucking, spit, cum, blindfolded, bdsm, dominance submission, obeying orders, hair pulling, bruising, being marked up, lingerie, everything is very much consensual and planned, mean satoru, big dick satoru, unprotected sex, creampie, penetration, daddy kink, wth do i warn, lots of aftercare and love afterwards <33

I think that’s everything? Please kindly (heavy emphasis on the kindly) let me know if I missed anything!! It’s not my intention to.

Note: Firstly, EVERYTHING IS CONSENSUAL!!!!!!!!! It’s implied that the whole gun-play was discussed before, ok. Different kinks exist and it’s clearly a BDSM based scene. Not vanilla at all. Also idk about others but I have fun reading kinks (obviously not every single one, i do have limits like others) that I wouldn't ever do myself, so. It's fiction and reading be fun. Not my best writing (again). Always room for improvement. Please ignore any mistakes because I didn’t edit it afterwards dkfjgfd. Please don’t come at me if this isn’t for you - I have plenty of warnings and it’s dark content so :’), it’s to be expected. Satoru is a bit of a meanie during it but I swear he’s super sweet after <333 Please let me know if you enjoyed it ; - ;. I will try to do better for the next piece.

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS, PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT!!!

You’re kneeling in his office, shivering and blindfolded. He’s forgotten about the window. The gentle breeze coming through the slightly ajar window, embracing you and you found yourself wishing for his warmth to smother you instead. Now isn’t the time. Especially with his red satin tie around your head, blinding you. You could barely glance down to see your body. He’s currently out of his home office to deal with something. Only giving you one order to obey. Kneel and stay put. He’ll know if you move.

It’s impossible to disobey Gojo Satoru.

Especially since you’re the one chasing him, craving not only his attention but his touch. You’re only wearing lingerie; laced and black. It was to surprise him when he was sitting in his office, typing away and boy did it surprise him. Your lips still feel a pleasant tingle from the searing kiss he gave you before his phone rang. You sigh softly, impatience rising and your knees start to ache from having to kneel directly against the wooden floor. Hands rest behind your back, fingers laced together and squeezing so tightly to try and contain your excitement. Satoru will return soon. So, you wait.

You straighten your back when you hear the small creak of the office door opening, sock-covered feet padding lightly against the floor until you sense someone towering above you from behind. The white-haired male gazes down at you, eyes clouded with a mixture of lust and admiration he holds for you. You didn’t move, it seems. Heart swelling up with pride, Satoru’s long fingers stroke along your hair on the top of your head. Nice and calm. Soothing.

“You listen to me so well, Y/N.” Satoru praises, nails scraping along your scalp until a soft whine leaves your lips. “Though, I do remember saying to not distract me today. You couldn’t resist it.” He sighs, crouching down behind you. Even when he’s at almost the same level as you, it always feels like he’s towering above you. Blindfold or not, you’re not blind to that. “You’re lucky that I adore you so much.” He whispers, long fingers trailing along your bare arm, grinning to himself when he witnesses you squirm from his touch.

“Daddy—“ You breathe out, tongue lolling out as you struggle with containing yourself. Your thirst for the taller male continues to grow, and your sense of touch is only heightened when your sense of sight is temporarily forbidden. With both hands now, his fingers continue to soothingly stroke along your bare arms from behind you. It’s featherlight and you couldn’t help but wonder what Satoru will surprise you with.

“It’s a good thing that I have work wrapped around my finger, they won’t question why I ended early today. Although, it’s you who is utterly tangled when it comes to me. Isn’t that right, baby girl? You’ll do anything I say. No matter how scary or dangerous it is.” He whispers low against your ear, warm breath fanning against it. His large hands now cup your breasts from behind, fondling with the soft mounds and not bothered by the fabric. You feel flustered because he’s right. You’d do absolutely anything for this gorgeous human being. Maybe it’s because you know if you did use your safe word and he’d stop instantly; that you’d do anything. There’s no one else you trust more with your well-being or life as a whole.

“Isn’t that right?” Satoru repeats himself, just seeking reassurance before he continues. His fingers pinch your sensitive buds through the thin fabric and you whimper, thighs clenching together. “Yes, Daddy. I’d really do anything—.” You confess through your needy whimpers, eyes clenching tight beneath the satin fabric of his tie. You wish you could see the way his hands expertly grope your breasts because you swear, you could come from this alone if he continues. You’re in the palm of his hand, eager to take it all. You’re completely loyal to him and it just arouses Satoru. Especially your sweet obedience.

“Mm. Good girl.” Satoru says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before he stands up behind you once more. The white-haired male isn’t afraid of showing you affection any time of the day, but especially during moments like this. Simply, to ease your mind that he still loves and cares for you. No matter what he’s going to put you through. Rough. Humiliating. Pain. Dangerous. It’s all just thrilling to you both and truth be told, Satoru is the best of both worlds to you. You get everything. The rough or the gentle. Whatever the day calls for. Maybe it’s his loving warmth that seeps through, that makes you call him Daddy rather than something formal, like ‘Master’ or ‘Sir’. It’s fitting for the white-haired male and Satoru loves it when you call him it. It didn’t matter what he was going to do, he’ll always be your Daddy.

He’s not behind you. You can somewhat sense him in the direction of the desk in his office when you hear sounds in that direction. You pout, impatience starting to seep through. You hear a drawer open and close. Is he just going to make you kneel here? Suddenly, you yelp in pain, hands instinctively coming up towards the source of pain. Satoru bunched up your hair before surprising you with a forceful yank, forcing you to lift your knees until he lets go and your knees meet a— cushion? Your heart flutters despite the pain tingling in your scalp. He cares. “Hands in your lap.” Satoru orders and you quickly oblige, fingers lacing together in your lap.

Satoru is crouching in front of you now, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to your pouting lips. They’re impossible to resist. Something cold and hard brushes along your bare thigh and he watches your eyebrows furrow with confusion of what it could be. His eyes light up with something sinister and exciting. “You look so pretty for Daddy. So impossible to resist. I should just have you kneeling here and actually do work. You’d be like my own personal art for the day. Hold any pose I put you through, no matter how uncomfortable it is.” Satoru coos softly and you whine, still feeling whatever it is stroking your thigh, even prodding against your covered womanhood, panties already drenched with your juices. “Maybe I’ll take you to work and force you to do that. You might feel humiliated with so many eyes on you but I’d be so proud to show off what’s mine.” He says, voice laced with his usual amusement. You huff a little, embarrassed yet aroused at the idea. You really would do anything for him.

“Part your legs and stay still.” He orders with a sweet kiss to your temple. Head cocking slightly in confusion, you willingly spread your legs far enough but still able to keep your knees against the comfortable pillow. The mysterious object in his hand brushes along your inner thigh before pressing against your womanhood and you gasp sharply, feeling the cold… metal, even through the thin fabric. Whatever it is, feels good against your needy pussy. Especially when Satoru presses more firmly until your slick-covered folds manage to spread despite the panties and the object presses against your sensitive clit. “A-Ah..” You gasp out softly from feeling a surge of pleasure wash over you as the foreign object rubs your clit slowly in a circular motion. You feel your clit throb beneath the touch, whining as pleasure continues to spread through you, leaving you to crave more of it. You’ve always been sensitive so it’s a difficult task to keep your legs apart.

Satoru loves to watch you struggle before him. He continues to rub the edge of the object against your throbbing clit, eyes fixated on your quivering thighs and how the panties weren’t enough to stop your juices from seeping out further and with the use of the metal object, Satoru smears the juices across your inner thighs. You clench your fists tightly, your mind racing with thoughts you’re barely able to process. You would have been ultra-sensitive to his warm touch alone, but the object just sparks your sensitivity further, only wishing you could know what it is. Some sex toy?

Your brows stay furrowed and Satoru laughs, delighted by your needy reactions. “Bet my pretty whore just wants to know what it is, hm? Patience. I’ve barely touched you.” He sighs out heavily and you feel somewhat embarrassed to be so reactive, face feeling hot. “Daddy, I just miss seeing your face..” You whisper breathlessly, nose crinkling as a pathetic attempt to try and move the tie around your eyes. A failure. He tied it pretty firmly. “Cuuuuute.” He coos softly, tapping the edge of the object against your bare thigh.

Satoru’s free hand cups his own cheek as his head tilts, elbow against his knee, watching you with amusement. It’s funny watching your body jerk with each slow tap, head turning towards the touch. “W-What is it?” You stutter out, unable to hide your curiosity as it grows. Satoru ignores the question for the moment, leaning back and his eyes refuse to leave you. “You’ll know soon. Take your panties off.” He orders breathlessly, his own heart pumping with excitement because fuck, he loves seeing your needy cunt before his eyes. Even if you’re pretty in lingerie.

Your fingers hook beneath the lace of your panties, hastily shifting yourself so you can tug them down the length of your legs and just as you are about to toss them, you feel his grip on them. Quickly, you let go. Without even needing him to speak an order, you move back to your original position. Kneeling on the pillows with willing legs staying apart and hands draped by your side. “Such a good girl, baby.” Satoru praises, though already sounding so distracted when his crystal blue eyes focus on your pussy.

Dripping and looking so inviting, Satoru brings your panties up to his nose and inhales sharply, groaning at the heavenly smell of your sex. His cock strains against his briefs, desperate to be relieved and touched. Your pussy clenches around nothing upon hearing his delicious groans, lips staying parted and you couldn’t stop yourself from whining. You just want to see him. “You smell so fucking good, baby. Panties drenched from being so needy, huh?” Satoru says, words muffled by the damp fabric still pressed against his lower face. He grins to himself from seeing you shyly tilt your head down and stuff the panties into the back pocket of his black slacks.

His long legs bend once more to crouch in front of you, one hand still gripping the object tightly in his hand before the other comes around to swiftly unclasp your bra. Even blind, you’d never get used to how hot the action is from the taller male. He’s taken your clothes off more times than you can count. The pads of his fingers ghost along your arm as he peels down the strap until the bra is finally off and tossed to the side. Your heart is racing, wondering what he’d do next to you, finding it even more thrilling with your ability to guess becomes non-existent when you can’t see his movements.

The tip of a mysterious object presses against the side of your breast and Satoru enjoys the sight of your squishiness. You’re still trying to figure out what it is by focusing… The end is somewhat circular and ah— You feel it start to drag between your breasts, trailing down your naked stomach and back to your dripping womanhood. Satoru could practically see the goosebumps appear, trailing after the contact the object makes and he smirks.

You start to pant softly, nails digging into your own legs. “Since when did you love to take your time so much, Daddy..” You whine, lips naturally pouting. This a silly remark on your behalf as you both know that he is never one to rush if he has time. Still, you’re only being cute to try to find out what he’s doing and what his more sinister plans may entail. “Sluts need to learn how to wait.” He sighs, sliding the object back down to where it originally was, pressing against your dripping folds.

“I’m your slut, a-ah…” You whimper out, spreading your legs further when you feel the cold metal once more gliding between your folds, thankful that panties aren’t in the way anymore. The cool sensation is only heightened from the lack of sight, leaving you all warm and tingly between your legs. Satoru is still far too calm for what he’s usually like and it leaves you dying of curiosity. What is he hiding? Whatever sex toy it is; feels so damn good as you grind against it, tiny gasps escaping from the jolts of pleasure you feel when it presses against your bundle of nerves. Your head is spinning, tilting back as moans of his name spill from your lips.

Satoru watches hungrily as you turn into a needy slut for something foreign between your legs, gaze never leaving as your hips begin to pick up the pace as you hump against the metal object, only warming it up with your sweet slick and keeping it against your hot pussy. His own lips parted in silent awe, head hanging forward and refusing to look away. Sometimes it’s moments like this where he wonders how he managed to score you for his selfish self. Eventually, he pulls it away and stands up to tower above you.

Sad sounds instantly part from you, feeling despair from the lack of that pleasure and your pussy clenches around nothing, clearly desperate to be filled up. “Do you trust me, Y/N?” Satoru asks, voice nothing but serious and a hint of excitement. You blink beneath the blindfold, shifting on your knees before your lips curl up to form a genuine smile, heart fuzzy and warm. “I trust you with my life.” You breathe out softly.

“Take your blindfold off, then.”

Finally. Your hands come up, first attempting the knot behind your head and it takes a moment but you manage to tug it free, untying the knot and keeping your eyes closed as the tie drops, draping along the front of your naked thighs. You open your eyes and deep fear momentarily crashes into you hard.

There’s a gun pointing at your forehead, dripping with your juices and just beyond the semi-automatic pistol, is Gojo Satoru smiling wide at you, eyes full-blown with carnal desire. The sight of him eases your fear, even if he does look rather manic with a gun to your head. Your trust and love for him far outweigh the fear you briefly felt. Besides… why is your cunt dripping more than ever and your heart pumping excitement through you? This is beyond dangerous and yet, you want it with him.

The pad of his index finger lightly caresses the trigger, pressing the barrel of the gun against your forehead. Your breath hitches, body starts to tremble. One pull and you’d be gone. It still doesn’t truly shake you to your core. You’re terrified. Natural to be so scared when there’s a gun to your head and yet, you also can’t shake away how aroused it feels to be forced into a position where all you can do is trust and obey Satoru. His head tilts forward, looking down at you through strands of white hair. Having you in such a vulnerable position is a blessing to him. It’s a right that only he gets the privilege of seeing. A privilege to put you through. “You look so scared, baby. Daddy won’t pull the trigger if you just follow orders.” He purrs, voice low and strained. The barrel of the gun now travels lightly down the length of your face before nudging against your pretty lips.

“Suck it.”

You whimper softly, eyes almost going cross-eyed as you try to look towards the barrel of the gun. Instead, you focus on his fierce grip on the weapon, baffled by how a large hand alone can look so hot when it’s steady and having control over something so dangerous. With a nudge to your lips, you press a sloppy kiss to the tip, glancing up towards Satoru’s face as you drag your tongue directly over the hole. You notice that his finger isn’t on the trigger anymore and assume it’s because you actually obey what he said.

“Daddy..” You whisper breathlessly, swirling your tongue around the end of the pistol. It’s not as smooth and easy to do compared to when you suck Satoru’s pretty dick. It doesn’t taste as pleasant either. Cold metal against your tongue as you drag your parted lips along the side of it until you make contact with his hand. You keep your eyes on the tall male, tongue dancing along the gun, drool coating it before you repeat the same teasing action along the other side, your heart still racing from the fact that this weapon could end you.

Your lips meet the barrel of the pistol and you look up at Satoru. Silently, he nudges it against your saliva-coated lips and you’re quick to obey. Your lips wrap snugly around the tip, metallic taste filling your mouth already as you suck on the end gently, moans muffled. Satoru curses beneath his breath, hand reaching out to tenderly stroke along your hair. He’s so very pleased that you've proven his words to be right. That you really would absolutely do anything for him. Hell, he’s sure you’d even die for him and to have someone that loving and loyal to him? To no one else? Fuck, his cock throbs harder than ever before. You look cute in his eyes as you suck on the end of his pistol. It usually sits in his side drawer, but seeing you enter his office in lingerie? It just called to him.

It’s a bit difficult compared to sucking his cock. The sliding of your mouth isn’t as easy, yet you don’t care. You still feel desperate to please the white-haired male. With your jar relaxed, you bob your mouth up and down half the length of the gun, having to keep your mouth wider to be able to fit the awkward size comfortably.

Mindlessly, his free hand begins to palm himself through his slacks and groans quietly from the friction of fabric rubbing against his pulsating cock. He begins to push the gun further into your mouth until the open end presses against the back of your throat. You gag loudly, throat muscles constricting around the metal object and it causes your eyes to sting from feeling your throat ache, scraping against the pistol. “Keep it in.” He sighs out softly and you have to breathe heavily through your nose, lack of oxygen evident from having a gun deep in your mouth. His crystal blue eyes are wide and heavy with lust as they focus entirely on you and the heavenly sight of you choking on his weapon. His finger caresses along the trigger and you whimper, completely muffled. You continue to try and swallow around the pistol until finally, Satoru relents.

Satoru slowly slides the pistol along the flat of your tongue until he pulls it away entirely. You inhale sharply, a string of saliva connected from your lips to the barrel of the gun. You couldn’t stop yourself from dry-heaving, trying to inhale the oxygen you briefly missed. His free hand reaches to tenderly stroke along your hair, lips curling to form a playful grin. “Good girl, baby. Look at you, dripping all over my office.” He comments, shifting his foot until he taps it against your dripping cunt and you whimper from the jolt of pleasure that shifts through you. Your juices drip slowly onto the wooden floor from how excited you feel, despite the aroused terror you also feel from the gun still being pointed at you.

It’s coated in your saliva still, Satoru isn’t bothered to wipe it clean. Instead, his free hand begins to unbuckle his belt. He pauses, noticing how your fingers twitch by your sides. The white-haired male chuckles, delighted by how you’re always so eager to please him. “Go on, then.” He says, tapping the end of the pistol against your forehead as further encouragement for you. You waste no time. Hastily, your trembling hands come up to finish unbuckling his belt and swiftly sliding it out of the loops to drop it on the floor beside his feet. You look up at him, admiring his beauty as you curl your fingers beneath the slacks and briefs. Your hand unzips the front and you begin to pull his bottoms done until finally, his cock springs free. Satoru steps out of the bottoms and kicks them to the side.

You practically drool at the pretty sight of his thick, long cock throbbing in front of your face. “I don’t even need to threaten you. You’re an eager slut, already drooling.” He sighs out dramatically, nudging the barrel against your cheek, making it squish. You flush with embarrassment, though you can’t retaliate. Gun or not, Satoru is right. The pillow beneath you is already damp because of your dripping cunt. Long lashes flutter and you waste no time to wrap your soft lips around the leaking head of his throbbing cock. Briefly, you tease the tip with your tongue, swirling it around and lapping up the pre-cum, hot moans muffled.

Satoru breathes in sharply between his clenched teeth, cock twitching in response to your teasing. His free hand grips firmly onto your hair and roughly yanks you forward as his hips push out, forcing his pulsating length down your throat further. You whimper, thankful that your mouth isn’t filled with the taste of metallic this time and instead with something else that you love to taste. Your tongue rubs along the underside of his cock, keeping your jaw loose as he guides your head with ease by the fierce grip on your hair, mouth bobbing up and down the entire length.

You couldn’t breathe properly, throat muscles constricting every time he slides deep enough, only leaving you to gag loudly and fucking into the saliva that gathers. It feels heavenly to him. Addicting, too. To feel the soft squishiness of your cheeks rubbing against his cock as he continues to fuck your mouth onto his cock, hips meeting each time. Tears sting every time you feel the throbbing cock push down the length of your throat until your nose presses against smooth skin. It’s even harder to breathe through your nose when it happens, the lack of oxygen making your head feel all light and floaty. Eyes roll, saliva dribbling down your chin and you could feel the edge of the gun still pressed to your forehead, his heavy pants and you choking on his cock filling the air.

You trust him. Trust overwhelming any sense of fear you have about the weapon in his hand, though it will always look menacing in his grip. People would find you to be a freak for also being aroused by it at all, clit throbbing and walls clenching with the need to be filled up. “Fucking hell— fuck. Every hole of yours made for Daddy, huh?” He groans, his stomach starting to tighten with the need to orgasm. He’d rather not. Satoru is more eager when it comes to seeing his white sticky cum dripping from your fucked out cunt. Your hands stay by your side in fists as a pitiful way to try and contain yourself, feeling high off of his words alone. His hand shifts to the back of your head, thrusting deep and forcing you to take every inch of his length once more, not allowing you to move. You stay there, scrunched nose against his stomach as swallow around his cock, throat muscles squeezing around it before he pulls you off quickly, moaning your name.

You begin sputtering and dry-heaving, desperate for the oxygen to flow back. It’s complete bliss when you breathe, throat aching from the sweet abuse. Strings of spit connect your lips to the shiny tip, coated with a mixture of pre-cum and your spit. “Ah~..” You exhale out shakily, looking up at the white-haired male with complete awe. Only he can ever treat you like this and get away with it. It’s thrilling. Hot, even. The gun momentarily dangles loosely from his hand, inhaling slow deep breaths as he looks down at you, admiring how pretty you look on your knees, already looking fucked before he even stuffs you full. Satoru’s lips curl to display a wicked grin.

“My pretty princess, all mine to play with and not a single complaint. I could shoot you and you’d still be desperate to obey me and give me pleasure.” He teases through a coo, waving the gun in your face briefly. Your puffy lips form a cute pout, whining. “Daddy sees right through me. Just want Daddy’s cock so bad..” You whisper, voice breathless and ragged. Satoru hums, long fingers dragging through his white hair before he raises the weapon once more. “You expect me to get to your level to fuck your tight pussy? Bend yourself over the desk.” He orders barrel nudging once more against your forehead.

Frantically, you stumble to your feet. You feel relief for your knees because, despite a pillow, they were starting to ache. Still panting from the result of your mouth being fucked, you make your way to his desk on shaky legs. Funny how he already has you in such a state just from kneeling for too long. “Haven’t even fucked you yet.” Satoru snorts with amusement, though silently endeared as he walks behind you, free hand gripping your hip as he guides you forward. Your eyes make contact with his belongings across the desk. “Daddy, what about your—“

Your words are instantly cut off as you watch Satoru swipe his arm across the desk until everything lands on the ground. Thankfully there is a rug beneath his desk to lessen the damage. Not that you care— That was extremely hot and before you could express that, his large hand firmly grips the back of your head to force you down, upper body bending until the side of your face is pressed against the wooden desk and you whimper, feeling a dull throb. “Baby girl~, looking even more enticing.” Satoru purrs, tapping the end of the gun against the desk beside your head. You couldn’t help but tremble beneath his grip, eyes focusing on the weapon next to you, noticing how his finger once more caressed the trigger as he shifted the angle of it to face you.

Automatic fear washes over you, soon turning into excitement that drips from between your legs. Your trust in him only deepens as you begin to teasingly sway your hips. Satoru drags the barrel along his now empty desk, crystal blue eyes refusing to look away from the seductive sight of your ass. His free hand gently glides down the length of your body, neatly trimmed nails grazing along your naked back. “You’re so pretty, Y/N. Especially like this, as if you were made to be bent over my desk and take my big cock in any hole of yours.” Satoru says and you could practically hear the cocky smirk in his voice. Your thighs squeeze together, cheeks heating up. He isn’t wrong. That’s what you often think about. How you were born into this world to belong to the white-haired male, to feel excitement and pleasure as you do anything he wants. Your fetishes and kinks always line up with his. You glance towards the gun that appears, even more, shinier because of your sweet juices mixed with your saliva. You bite back a small smile. You were made for each other.

His large hand grasps your right ass cheek firmly, squeezing harshly enough to coax sweet mewls out of you and to, naturally, admire the way your ass fills up the gaps between his fingers. Fucking hell, he loves your ass. He brings his hand back, hovering before he brings it back to the surface of your ass swiftly, slapping your ass cheek firmly. You whimper, feeling the sweet sting spread across your cheek. He alternates his harsh spanks from cheek to cheek, grinning almost like a maniac as he enjoys the joyful sight of your ass cheeks jiggling before his very eyes. His palm starts to feel numb and yet it doesn’t stop him. Nor do the tears that glue to your long lashes as your gaze stays fixated on the automated pistol pointed in your direction, looking so menacing. Spank after spank, the impact each time his hand lands seems to be harder than before, causing you to squirm on the spot and bite back your sobbing. The pain by Satoru’s hands feels so good.

You gasp out sharply when nails scrape over your burning skin, knowing that light bruises were already beginning to form from how hard he hit your ass cheeks. “What are you doing just laying there, princess? It’s like you’re asking me to pull the trigger and leave you here to bleed.” Satoru murmurs, dragging the edge of the gun across the table before you feel the cold metal, slicked with your saliva and juices; pressing against your bruises ass cheek. “If you don’t show me how much you want me..” He warns, finger tapping lightly on the trigger.

Hastily, ignoring how the deathly threats invoked some sort of wild excitement out of you, your hands come back towards your throbbing ass and you whimper softly, hands trying to gently cup across the surface of your ass and spreading your cheeks wide enough to finally reveal your both of your holes. Your pussy is on full display, folds parted and strings of your slick attached to them. Satoru grins, ignoring your whimper as his free hand soothingly rubs along your waist. “Such a good girl, baby. Always obeying me... You’re just a little dumb, s’all. Need Daddy to always guide you through it.” The white-haired male purrs, feeling daring enough to press the tip of the pistol directly against your puckered asshole and chuckles when he sees it clench. “Scared I’m going to fuck your asshole with my gun, baby? Would you prefer my cock?“

You nod your head eagerly to the thought, heat rising to your cheeks and nails dig lightly into your own flesh, keeping your ass cheeks spread. He laughs and you’re delighted to hear it, unable to stop your lips from curling. “Just love Daddy’s cock so much, made to fill my holes up..” You mumble, breath hitching when the edge of the gun presses further against your asshole. You shiver, not knowing what to expect as he drags the metal object down between your ass cheeks and rubbing once more against your folds.

He loves it, really. You looking so vulnerable. Scared by the gun and yet confused for being aroused. This power that he holds over you is so addicting; something he’ll always want to chase. The dominance to pair with your submissiveness. Satoru snaps out of his trance, placing the gun on the desk and finally gripping your waist with two hands. “Keep being my perfect girl, don’t think I won’t pick it back up and hurt you. Have you crying for me, begging for me to stop the pain. Hm? Only Daddy would be able to help you, isn’t that right?” He says, voice low and soothing as his hands come down to squeeze over your own hands that keep you spread for him.

Your heart flutters and all you can do is helplessly nod. Satoru soaks it all in. The sinful sight of you bent over his desk, sweet juices smeared along your inner thighs and dripping from your core. It’s a miracle that he’s even able to hold himself back when he’s desperate to slam himself inside of you with no warning and have you choke on your pretty tears. One hand grips the base of his cock as he guides himself forward until he’s grinding his erection against you. A heavy sigh falls from his soft lips, head tilting back as he focuses on the feeling of his length rubbing between your slippery folds, each slide so smooth from your slick. His bulbous tip leaks pre-cum that smears along your cunt, pressing against your needy hole, finally. You whine, nails scraping once more across your bruised ass cheeks that leave a burning sensation across the numb flesh, wiggling back to show your eagerness for his cock.

You still find yourself nervously glancing towards the gun that rests about thirty centimetres away. One false move and your beloved Satoru could pick it up, having every right to. Yes, you’re so willing and thankful to give him that much power. To hand over all the control to the white-haired male and deeply trust him in return. He spoils you, deep down. Cares for you. Loves you. It’s only right to be loyal and obedient. Hell, it makes it so much more thrilling. One of his large hands caresses along your bare back again, his gaze fixated on your face and so he knows where you continue to glance. It makes his cock throb with so much excitement, seeing you nervous and yet, determined to behave.

“Your trust in me, Y/N…” Satoru trails off, his own blue eyes focusing on his cock, perfectly lined up and ready. It already glistens beneath the office light from being coated in your mess. You squirm a little, wondering what exactly he wants to say and— “Ah!” You strangle out a cry of surprise laced with pleasure & pain when you suddenly feel his cock pushing in deep, hard and fast. He didn't 'prepare' you with his fingers like he usually does; to coax you into relaxing and being able to adjust comfortably when something bigger enters. Not that it's usually needed. He just knows you love the feeling of his long, slender fingers. Still, the pain of your walls stretching only adds to the thrill. Satoru slams his throbbing length into you, hips snapping forward and nails digging into your soft flesh as he groans your name out in pleasure, head tilting back. “It’s so arousing—.” He finally manages to finish between heavy pants, already feeling your warm velvety walls cling right around his erection and squeezing.

“Daddy, oh—, nngh... So big—“ You whimper out, eyes closing tightly and your words only make his ego inflate, leaving him to grin down at your naked body beneath him. “Yeah? Daddy’s so big that he’s filling you right up. Don’t deny that it feels good, baby girl. I don’t like my good girl to lie to me.” He teases, hands soothingly stroking your sides. Satoru wastes no time. He doesn’t wait for you to adjust or get comfortable as he begins to thrust, nice and slow. You lay there obedient and eager to take his monstrous-sized cock, even if the stretch of your inner walls still hurt. Your cheek presses against the surface of the desk and if it wasn’t for his fierce grip on your hips, your body would have been jerking forward with each hard thrust.

The pain begins to subside already, replaced with the pleasure you often chase for. His cock sliding in and out with ease, all thanks to how deeply aroused you are. Satoru pathetically tries to contain himself by digging his nails into your flesh, muscles tensing up as he watches his cock disappear inside your needy cunt with deep fascination. “Fucking— tight.” He pants out as he feels your warm walls drag along his throbbing length as if eager to keep him buried deep inside. You squeeze around his thickness, feeling utter bliss and too deep in the pleasure to even feel flustered from the squelching your pussy makes every time he pulls out, only to push back in. “Nn, Daddy~.” You moan out happily, mind blank as you nuzzle the hard wooden desk.

Satoru laughs breathlessly, pulling back until only the bulbous tip of his cock stays inside your warmth. Naturally, a whine of complaint falls from your lips and you try to wiggle back onto his cock. His hands easily hold you in place and you yelp with surprise when he swats your ass cheek. “Fucking whore, always so greedy for Daddy’s cock. The dumb girl can’t even think of anything else. huh? Isn’t that right? So cock obsessed that you’d just lay all day with your legs open to show off your slutty pussy. Want Daddy to fuck you, baby girl? Hm?” The filthy, degrading words fall easily from his lips and you flush with humiliation. It only drives your lust further and deeper. You feel pathetic to know that it’s true. You don’t care in the end— You just want his fat cock in your tight pussy.

“Daddy, please~. Fuck your personal toy. I’m such a whore for your thick cock, a-ah!” You cry out in sweet ecstasy when he slams into you, arching your back into the air. Instantly, he’s leaning down until his toned body is pressing against yours, hand groping your breast and squeezing harshly. He’s grinding his cock into you, leaving you feeling so drunk off the pleasure as moans spill easily from your swollen lips. “That’s it, baby girl. Take all of me.” He whispers against your ear, shivering from his hot breath and teasing tongue against your earlobe. Satoru continues to grind hard, addicted to the way your inner walls seem to desperately try to cling to his throbbing length, only for your juices to make each thrust so easy. He massages your breasts, taking his time with each and it leaves your legs trembling. His hand comes down until he presses just above your womanhood, groaning softly from feeling his own cock make you bulge.

You whimper from feeling his hand pressing down, tears glued to your long lashes. Everything just feels so good! You could barely contain yourself even if you wanted to. Satoru adores seeing you already unravel before him and it prompts the desire to see more. Satoru carefully slides out of your core and you pout, hole clenching around nothing. The white-haired male’s lips are curled to form a smile of amusement, hand slapping easily against your wet cunt as you keep your legs spread. “Patience, princess.” He says, enjoying the soft cries that escape you from his slap.

Satoru’s thick and heavy cock continues to throb and he grips your wrists firmly to tug you upwards. “Eh?” You question, though happily obeying as he controls your movements. With not needing to use much of his strength, Satoru easily manhandles you. He twists you around until you’re facing him and hoists you up onto his near-empty desk. The gun still lying near one of the corners. “Not even trying to help Daddy here, I guess you really do love me handling you.” He sighs, a chaste kiss to your forehead before his hand pushes against your shoulder and your back meets the flat surface of the desk.

Your eyes are wide from feeling the impact, gazing up at him with lust and legs open, your body looking so inviting for him. Always. Satoru wastes no time. He’s too eager to feel you around him again and so with his hand at the base of his cock, he guides himself back in. Tip pressed against your hole before sinking in entirely, coaxing mewls to spill from your needy lips. Satoru shivers, feeling you squeeze around his erection once more. Your hands grip weakly onto the edge of the desk as Satoru starts to thrust fast and deep. You moan out in enjoyment when you feel his cock stretching you out every time he slams into you, eyes rolling back and lips staying parted. His crystal blue eyes refuse to leave your face as he pounds relentlessly into you, heavy pants mixed with eager grunts and groans parting from him.

The white-haired male never gives in, no matter how good it feels to have your walls wrapped snug and tight around his pulsating cock. Satoru continues to thrust hard and fast, skin slapping against skin echoing off the empty office walls. Your breasts bounce with each pounding of his length, the office desk creaking beneath you. “Daddy!” You choke out in ecstasy, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. It only drives him further to witness you in such a delicious state; utterly drunk off of his cock alone. One hand comes down to your pussy, thumb pressing against your throbbing clit to rub teasingly in circles.

Electrifying jolts surge through your body from the contact to the sensitive nub, face scrunching up as you cry out for the taller male, clenching around his cock that continues to pound into you with no mercy. Every touch, every thrust of his is so damn thrilling that your body only chases for more, even as you start to feel delirious. Sweat lightly coats your body, tiny yelps escaping your swollen lips as his other hand slaps your breasts which continue to jiggle, thanks to his cock slamming deep into your core. “Da-ah~ Nnghh..” You babble out, cheeks glistening from your tears. Satoru is panting heavily, not minding the numb tingle in his palm as he slaps your breasts in time with his thrusts. Fuck, he swears he’s never felt anyone or anything so damn perfect before. The way your velvety inner walls cling onto his cock as if desperate to keep him buried inside of you; keep you full to the brim.

You both can sense the ultimate highs coming and yet, he refuses to give in just yet. It’s almost like magic to see how fast his throbbing cock disappears and your dripping cunt taking every inch, always stretching right around and squeezing. One hand steadies you against the desk, gripping onto your hip. His eyes are wide and alive with swirls of lust as his other reaches for the gun. Just that feeling of more power, that will really fucking send him over the edge. His long fingers wrap around the grip of the automated pistol. He pulls his cock out to the very tip, listening to your cute little whines. You want him back inside of you so badly and— “Ah!” You cry as he slams back in, eyes barely able to concentrate as he leans in, hovering over you as he continues to fuck you nice and deep.

So close, you’re both so close. Nearly there.

“Would you die for me, Y/N?” He pants out heavily, refusing to look away from your face that twists with innocent confusion from the question. You’re too drunk off of the pleasure to really think, though you know in your heart, what the answer is. “Yes— Yes, would die for, nn.. you, Daddy. Anything for you.” You moan, hand coming down to rest over his on your hip to squeeze. A single laugh escapes him, pleased by your answer. Loyalty really is the best in his eyes. To have you especially, be happily devoted to him. “Prove it, baby. I want you to prove it.” He says, voice low and breathless. You open your eyes when something presses to your forehead and that’s when you notice he picked up the automated pistol mid-fuck, still thrusting deep inside your dripping cunt, balls slapping against your ass.

Fear tightly tied in with the pleasure you feel, continues to surge through your body. Your eyes filled with tears almost going cross-eyed as you look at the gun, crying. You’re babbling and incoherent, nails digging into his wrist. You have to prove it. You want to prove it. To Satoru, your entire world. The metal scrapes against your forehead as your body still jerks with every pounding. Satoru feels like he could barely breathe now when your pussy clenches so tight around his length, forcing his grip on the gun to stay steady. “I’ll do it, Y/N. I’ll pull the trigger, just say you’ll die for me. Show me— Fuck, so tight... Show me your devotion.” He antagonises further, stomach muscles tensing. In his eyes, you look so pretty as a sobbing mess. All for him.

You’re blinded by the tears that spill down your cheeks, wailing mixing into moans of ecstasy. It’s so sinful, in your mind. To be so afraid and yet aroused. That your needy pussy continues to be coated in your excited slick, making it easier for him to fuck into you. “P-Pull it, Daddy! Let me show you!” You manage to stutter out in a broken cry, refusing to close your eyes as you look up at him. To look at your everything. “Fuck—” Satoru grunts out, cock aching from witnessing something so beautiful. “I’m pulling the trigger, baby. Three—” He cuts himself off, the barrel of the gun pressing firmly against your head.

Your body is shaking, your stomach hot and tight with the need to let everything go. “Daddy!” You choke out, eyes wide and cheeks stained with constant tears. “Two.” He warns, crystal blue eyes refusing to leave yours. He cocks the gun. This is it. This is when you’ll show your true devotion to the white-haired male; your lover. Satoru’s slick-covered cock slides out until only the tip stays nudged in.

“One!”

You hear the click of his finger pressing down on the trigger as he slams one final time into your tight heat and you swear there’s an explosion of stars. You come around his cock, walls fluttering before squeezing around him. Your eyes shut tightly when you hear the trigger, too deep in your feelings of ecstasy to process the reality of no bullet. The gun slams down on the table as his muscular arms wrap around your trembling figure. He’s groaning against your ear and finally spills every drop of his seed, filling you up to the brim. Your walls clench repeatedly around his thick length, eagerly milking him through his orgasm as you sob through your own. You cling onto him, legs and arms feeling like jelly as you do so. “I’ve got you, Y/N..” Satoru whispers, hand already stroking along your back as he holds you against his warm body.

It feels like a long while for you to calm down from your high, desperately holding onto the white-haired man as you sob through your orgasm, your excited mess seeping out from your pussy. It’s mixed with his own sticky cum and he’s still refusing to pull out of you. Maybe selfish of him, but he swears to himself that’s mostly focused on you. He has to. Wants to. After everything he’s just done. Reality soon crashes over you. Even when you’re deeply in love and trusting someone; it doesn’t stop the breakdown of relief. Relief mixed with guilt and confusion. Relief for being alive, that there really wasn’t any danger. Guilt for being aroused by something so dangerous in the hands of the man you love. Confusion... Why? Why did it arouse you?

Satoru makes gentle shushing sounds, not with the intention to silence you but to comfort you. Tears continue to spill down from your cheeks, nuzzling his broad shoulder in a pathetic attempt to hide. “You’re okay, baby… It’s okay. Daddy would never hurt you. Not like that, hm?” Satoru whispers lovingly. He finally relents, sliding out of you until his cum spills out of your gaping cunt and drips along the edge of the desk. Your walls clench around nothing, already missing the feeling of being full. A small hiccup escapes and you feel your body being gently rocked. “D-Daddy..” You mumble through sniffling and he pulls back a bit.

The white-haired offers a warm smile, eyes now clouded with the love he has for you. He presses a kiss to your forehead before taking hold of the gun. You couldn’t help but whimper, gaze fixated on it. “Look.” He pauses, sliding the magazine out to reveal the insides of it. Completely empty. Not a single bullet inside. Deep down, you knew that was the case. Satoru would never dare threaten you with a live weapon. It was all part of the play; something you both discussed wanting to try weeks ago. Everything was consensual… Still, you feel confused. Was it wrong to be so aroused by having your life in his hands? Trusting him completely? Satoru slots the magazine back into place with a click before setting it aside. With one hand on you, Satoru leans down to grab a bottle of water that he kept near his desk. He’s always a prepared man, even when things seem so spontaneous. He uncaps the bottle and gently guides your head away to press the edge of the bottle against your lips. You obey and take small sips of the water, thankful for the liquid to ease your sore throat.

“You’re not gross, Y/N. What you feel is completely normal, baby. It wasn’t exactly the gun that aroused you. Nor me. It was about the power exchange and trust.” The white-haired male gently explains and it surprises you; to be read so easily. Your bottom lip trembles and you pull back slightly to look up at him, tears glued to your long lashes. His heart aches at the sight, large hands tenderly cupping your cheeks as he scatters loving kisses across your forehead. “It feels weird, Daddy... I was so scared.” You confess quietly, sniffling. “But, I trust you so much. Even with my life. You’d never really do it, right?” You ask rather timidly and Satoru shakes his head quickly. He knows such thoughts are normal after an intense scene and you only deserve the best love and care afterwards.

“Would never ever. The only fear and pain we accept in this household is consensual. I love you so much, Y/N. You did so well for me.” Satoru praises, hands caressing your bare back as he smiles down at you as you continue to sit on his desk. Your heart flutters at the sight of his smile, wrapping your arms around his middle to cling onto him, burying your face against his firm chest. So warm and comforting. “I like trying new things with you. I know people would probably think of us as freaks, but I like it. You’re the only one I trust.” You mumble, voice muffled by your face refusing to pull away from his chest. Your words ease his mind and he presses a tender kiss to the top of your head. Even a dominant person in a relationship needs aftercare and to be reassured. You know that very much. Especially with Satoru. He may be intense during the scene and heavily aroused, but he’s still someone who is soft and gentle; behind all that cockiness. “I like it, too. We’re made for each other, Y/N. Thank you for trusting me… Now, come on.”

You cock your head to the side in question before you let out a soft squeal as you feel Satoru lift you up with ease. Satoru’s hands cautiously cup your ass cheeks as he walks to the closed door. You look back towards the office — items scattered across the floor and cum dripping down the table. You feel your cheeks heat up. “Shouldn’t we clean that up?” You ask quietly and Satoru laughs, warm breath tickling your neck. “I’ll clean it up later, we’re focusing on you right now. How does a bubble bath sound? Let me take care of you.” Satoru says through a dramatic whine and you can’t stop the giggle from escaping, resting your head against his broad shoulder as he carries you to the bathroom.

“You’re the best at taking care of me, Satoru.” You say through a happy sigh. He sets you down on the counter, finally shrugging off his unbuttoned shirt off properly. You watch, eyes glazed over with love as he’s preparing the bath. It’s thankfully quite big and will be able to fit both of you comfortably. Even with his long legs, that your eyes currently admire. His hand glides under the tap of running water, adjusting the temperature to the warmth that he knows you prefer. He looks back at you for a moment, noticing you looking. “Are you admiring my ass?” He teases, lips curling into a grin and you huff, looking off to the side. “Your legs, thank you very much. Though, you do have a nice ass.” You grumble and Satoru snorts.

Once the bath is prepared and nearly overflowing with bubbles, Satoru walks over to scoop you back up into his arms. “Admire all of me.” He says with a playful pout and chest puffing out. You lightly smack his muscular pecs, smiling. “Always.” You respond with a kiss to his lips as he settles both himself and you into the water. Your back is against his front as his long legs trap you within. Briefly, he tilts his head back and sighs, enjoying the warmth of the water and your body pressing against him. You nuzzle back into him happily, prompting him to smile. Quietly, he grabs a loofah, squirting your favourite scented lotion on it before he begins to scrub it gently against your arms. He firmly holds each arm up as he rubs in a circular motion, spreading the suds across your skin. You feel butterflies flutter in your stomach as he continues, feeling the loofah against your back and across your front. No one else in the past ever took care of you to such lengths.

Still, it’s not fair. “Satoru—” You begin, taking hold of the loofah once he is finished. You manage to wiggle yourself around until you’re facing him. With an eager huff, you begin to scrub against his skin and across his muscular body. Satoru’s playful gaze softens, keeping his arms up against the edge of the tub as he watches you. “Is this an excuse to touch my hot body?” He asks, unable to keep it in. You splash water at him and he laughs, leaning in to press a loving kiss to your lips, lingering for a moment.

“I get to touch your hot body whenever I want anyways.” You say as you pull away from the kiss, feeling giddy. There’s no sense of fear or insecurity within you anymore, completely comforted by the white-haired male’s presence. He loves you so perfectly. Satoru rolls his eyes as he sighs dramatically. “Yeah, I’m just a piece of meat.” He jokes, kissing you once more before wrapping his arms around you. “Just kidding.” He reassures, pulling you against him.

You both stay in the bath until the water starts to feel cold and so, Satoru stands up. He quickly dries himself off so he’s not dripping water across his apartment, wrapping the towel around his waist. He grabs an extra fluffy one for you, guiding you to stand up before he wraps it around you.

“I can dry myself—”

“No.”

You bite back a smile, now standing on the bathmat as he dries you off and even going to great lengths to squeeze the water out of your hair carefully. Satoru bends down to peck your lips, the towel now replaced with a fuzzy bath gown in your favourite colour. “Can you go to the bedroom? I’ll be quick.” Satoru promises, nudging you to the exit of the bathroom. Happily, you oblige. You walk down the long hallway— You still find yourself surprised sometimes by how big his apartment is… Bedroom, too. You push the door open to reveal the master bedroom, walking over to sit on the edge of the king-size bed that you happily share with the male.

Satoru quickly unplugged the bath before hanging your towel and leaving the bathroom. He walks in the opposite direction until he’s in the kitchen. He grabs another bottle of water from the fridge and two granola bars from the pantry. Perhaps some would think his actions during aftercare are a bit extreme. That cuddling is ‘enough’. A few nice words. To him, that’s barely anything. He remembers briefly of the past— You being surprised by how far he goes to make sure you’re okay. Maybe it’s surprising cause he doesn’t seem like the type. Not with an overly confident persona and playfulness. There will always be layers to discover when it comes to Gojo Satoru.

Once in the bedroom, Satoru walks over to set the bottle and granola bars down on the bedside table. Your gaze softens. “What if I wasn’t hungry?” You ask, allowing him to scoop you up to drop you down against the middle of the mattress, sinking into it. “Don’t care, you’ll still eat it.” Satoru says, guiding you to roll over onto your stomach. You make a questioning sound, sensing him moving away and you tilt your head to watch him. He walks over to a set of drawers to grab a pair of sweatpants, tugging them up his long legs and tucking himself in before grabbing a bottle of lotion from the top surface. “Satoruuuu, you do so much. Let me take care of you, too.” You whine and Satoru settles beside you, grinning a little. “You do plenty.” He reassures, pressing a kiss to your temple.

He slides the gown up until your ass is revealed to him and he sighs. “You do have a perfect ass. My favourite.” He says, slowly squeezing some of the lotion onto his palm and you pout. “I hope you don’t see any other asses.” You mumble, breath hitching when you feel the coldness of the lotion before he begins to massage the lotion in. “I don’t know, hard to not look at my own.” Satoru says lightly, kneading the supple flesh gently. He never wants to take any chances with bruising. The spanking was barely anything compared to what he had done before, but it will never stop Satoru. Maybe it’s an excuse to touch you further and the thought makes you giggle. Thankfully, his tender massage does ease the throbbing in your ass. Once finished, Satoru leans down to press a playful kiss to each cheek. “Mwah, mwah.”

You laugh, prompting him to grin before he tugs the gown back down and rubs his hands on his sweats. He sets the lotion aside before his firm grip rolls you back over. Satoru easily hoists you up until you’re settled against the pillows. He tugs the blankets over your lower half, making sure the pillows are nice and plump for your comfort. He joins you under the blankets, settled against the pillows next to you. His arm reaches behind you to grab one of the granola bars and drops it on your lap. “Eat.” He orders gently, now wrapping his arms around you to snuggle into you, happy to just finally embrace you in bed and relax... Not that he doesn’t love doing aftercare, he really does. Especially after an intense session. It’s just that nothing quite beats cuddling in the end. You feel extra cosy still in the bath gown to relax in and have your boyfriend clinging onto you. He’s always been the affectionate kind and you adore it.

You snack on the granola bar in a comforting silence, breaking a bit to feed to him. He happily takes it between his teeth before chewing. One hand comes up to stroke along the back of your head, smiling softly. “Feeling okay now? Do you have any regrets?” Satoru asks, needing to know. You tilt your head, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips. “No regrets at all, my love. I had fun and it feels comforting to know that we can be freaks together.” You say with a soft giggle and Satoru relaxes. “Agreed, my love.” He copies, keeping his arms wrapped around you. You smile, noticing his eyes closing for the moment. You briefly think back to the gun that was pointed at your forehead. Fear doesn’t flare up within you. You know that no matter what happens between you both— No matter how intense things could be; there will always be love and trust. You will always be happy and willing to try something new with the man you love. Besides, it’s not like it’s the only thing you both do. There’s plenty of gentle love-making, too. “I love you.” You mumble shyly, nibbling on the granola bar. He smiles, eyes still closed and snuggling into your warmth.

“I love you, too.”

976 notes · View notes

parkerflix · 1 year

Text

—bet u wanna

min ho x gn!reader

wc: 2.5k

genre: enemies to lovers(?), reader is Q’s twin not twin ( tangerine & lemon vibes)

synopsis: your back and forth flirting with min ho takes an unexpected turn during chuseok.

warnings: some mentions of self-doubt

a/n: 1st fic from the 1k celebration! I do have a part two in mind, but i’m not sure if people would like that! lmk ur thoughts!

edit: here is part two!

You made your way over to Q’s dorm, knowing that you would have to see him.

Minho was the bane of your existence, and you were never one to enjoy his presence. He had seemed to be in an even worse mood recently with Kitty’s arrival and her meddling with everyone’s life. You loved Kitty, even though she did have her moments where she was a little all over the place. You had actually met her before the rest did, talking to her sometimes when Dae was facetiming her and you were studying with him.

Knocking on the door, you were surprised to see Minho open the door. He stared you down for a second, the air being awkward between you two the only sound being the facial mister in his other hand.

“Are you going to just stand there or are you going to let me in?”

Minho rolled his eyes and moved out of the doorway to let you in.

Waltzing in, you took to knocking on Q’ door, hearing some groaning coming from the other side. You opened the door, seeing Q laying in his bed still half asleep.

Grabbing his blanket, you puled it off of him.

“Morning sleepy head!”

Q groaned and lifted his head up from his pillow.

“Why are you here now? I thought we were meeting up for coffee.”

“My sweet darling brother, I couldnt just come because I miss you?”

He squinted at you, not buying your story.

“Okay I wanted to seeing if someone was here, but it seems that they didn’t stay the night today.” before he could respond, Kitty walked into the room yawning and seemingly in her pjs.

Your eyes widened and so did hers when she realized you were standing there.

“Kitty!”

“Yn!”

“I promise this isn’t what it looks like-”

You backed out of the room, awkwardly shaking your head.

“It’s fine! I’ll just be out here!”

Closing their bedroom door you heard the most obnoxious laughter behind you. You took a deep breath in, and turned your head to see Minho sitting on their couch with a cup of tea in his hands. You went to go sit down next to him, sighing.

“So it looks like you found out.”

“Were none of you planning on telling me?”

“Of course I wasn’t going to tell you, I’m not your handler.”

“Well of course not, you’re my lover.” you said leaning close to his face, batting your eyelashes at him.

You both stared at each other, and he nudged you away, feeling slightly awkward with you so close to his face. He didn’t want you so close, his heartbeat being slightly faster at your proximity.

“Shut up. That’s not even remotely funny.”

“I never said it was a joke.”

You both started bickering about it, not noticing when Kitty and Q came out of their room.

They both stared at you guys arguing with a small smile on each of their faces. It seemed obvious to everyone except the two of you that you guys were into each other, but if they told you guys they knew both of you would start spiraling.

Q liked seeing his sibling so happy, especially with Chuseok around the corner. Both of you weren’t going anywhere since you guys were expats, but seeing everyone go home always made you more homesick than normal. He remembered when his parents decided to adopt you, saying it would be nice for him to have a sibling that was his age. He was worried that you were going not like him, but you both took to each other fast. Being joined at the hip since your adoption, you always joked that you guys were twins, despite not even having the same birthday. But you made sure no one knew that your birthday wasn’t even the same day, making everyone everywhere address you both as twins.

He cleared his throat which made both you and Minho turn your attention to him & Kitty.

“Are you ready for that coffee?”

—

You had spent more and more time in Q’s dorm now that you knew Kitty was also there. It was refreshing having someone else deal with the guys, even if she did have some drama with Dae.

You weren’t the closest with Dae this year, having distanced yourself with all the drama he was swept up in. You pitied him a bit, being able to clearly tell his relationship with Yuri was a facade. Still, with Chuseok being in two days, you knew that it would be hard for him.

Walking into the living room of your brother’s dorm, you sighed and threw yourself ontop of Q. He groaned when you landed on him, your elbow hitting him in the ribs somehow.

You smiled at the noise he let out, seemingly satisfied.

“Have you seen Dae today?”

“No, he went home already. Something I guess came up? I’m not too sure, he seemed a bit stressed out about it.”

You hummed, a bit sad about it. Dae had left KISS early, and you weren’t able to talk to him.

The front door opened, and Minho walked in, letting out a sigh when he saw you there.

“Oh great, you’re here.”

“Aw Minho, did you miss me?”

“Do you think a dog misses it’s fleas?”

You stuck your tongue out at him, and he reciprocated it.

“Do you two ever get tired of arguing?” Q said, looking up from his phone.

You rolled off of him and went over to Minho, wrapping your arms around him.

Minho tried swatting your arms away, but you squeezed him tighter.

“Aww come on Q, you’re telling me that you don’t think we love each other?”

Minho’s mouth dropped wide open when you said that, never wanting to hear the word love come out of your mouth pertaining to him.

“I could never love you, you’re too annoying.” He grumbled wiggling himself free from your grasp.

You pouted and let out a huff,

“Minnie, you’re being too mean.”

The face that he had made left you satisfied and you went back to the couch with Q.

The silence that encased the three of you wasn’t awkward per say but you could’ve done without it.

Minho cleared his throat and both you and Q whipped your heads towards him.

Minho had always thought you guys were sometimes weirdly in sync like that, and it made him second guess if you guys actually were twins.

“So, are you guys going to Kitty’s chuseok dinner?”

You blinked at him, not even knowing that Kitty was hosting a dinner.

Q nudged your arm and you glanced at him with a small frown.

“Yeah, we’re going, are you?”

“No, I have a date with Lulu that day.”

You smiled at the thought of him going on a thought with Lulu, knowing that somehow he would probably mess it up.

“Lulu, huh? Sound’s interesting.”

“We’ve been flirting since her trainee days, it’s going to be amazing.”

“Well it’ll be fun to hear about!”

Q had said something to Minho about it, but you tuned out of the conversation, sending a few texts back and forth with Kitty.

She asked if you were busy, and if you could help her with the grocery shopping for the dinner (you assumed she assumed you were down to go to the dinner).

You told her you could meet her at the entrance of their dorm building and she said she would be over there in a few minutes.

You quickly got up and grabbed you bag, giving Q a quick hug.

“You’re finally leaving?”

“Don’t worry Minnie, I’ll be back soon!” You blew a kiss at him and laughed at his reaction, leaving both boys shocked.

—

Kitty’s chuseok was finally here, and she was running around the dining area, grabbing the last few things for the table.

You had shown up a little earlier than everyone, having promised Kitty you would help set up. You were finishing the table settings, turning around to grab the last of the silverware, when you accidentally ran into someone.

“Sorry! I didn’t see you-”

“Of course not. You tend to not look.”

You made eye contact with Minho, who seemed unamused. You had a slight frown on your face, ignoring his quip.

Sidestepping him you scurried along, finishing your task.

Minho was caught off guard, you never didn’t respond with your own quip, always being a thorn in his side that he seemed to not be able to get rid of.

The rest of the night you ignored his presence, choosing to sit next to Alex and leaving him to sit with Madison. No matter how annoying he thought you were, he did think you were lightyears better than Madison. He felt off somehow, seeing you act so different. Yes you were still laughing and making jokes with everyone else, but he could tell that your smile didn’t fully reach your eyes, and that you seemed to keep your laughter short.

Before he could ask you if anything specific was wrong, his phone buzzed with a text from Lulu. He had been so focused on you ( and also ignoring Madison), that he had forgotten about his date. You had excused yourself from the table before he did, stating that you just weren’t feeling well. Q had given you a worried glance but you shook your head at him and he seemed to get the hint that you wanted to be alone. You had assumed it was the twin telepathy that you both have.

His eyes had followed your retreating figure, and he muttered a goodbye to Kitty who was confused that he was leaving. He mentioned his date with Lulu, and walked towards the exit, hoping he would find you around there before his date.

You sat on the steps of the school, pulling your sweater’s sleeves over your hands, letting the tears flow from your eyes. You were frustrated for feeling so homesick and wanting to act normal like your brother. He seemed to not be as homesick, knowing that sometimes your relatives could be harsh. He also seemed to be doing well this year, having a good group of friends and a loving boyfriend. You knew that even though his friends were also your friends, besides Kitty you sometimes felt that they felt forced to be around you.

Minho had found you sitting on the steps, and he wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to do, or say at this point. He had never expressed any interest in your emotions other than your annoyance, and he also was just horrible at comforting people. Ignoring the vibrating of his phone, he went and sat down next to you, waiting for you to realize he was there.

“Q, I love you but I wanna be alone right now.”

“Well, I’ll pass on the message to him.” you glanced at the owner of the voice you knew so well, not knowing what to say to him.

You sighed and turned your focus on the sky once more.

“Don’t you have a date to be getting ready for?” you had meant for it to come out snarky, but you both could tell it just came out more sad than anything else.

He nodded and hummed.

“Yeah. But you seemed to need someone to talk to. And lucky for you I’m not only incredibly attractive-”

“And humble apparently”

“But I’m also a great listener.”

You turned to meet his gaze, not seeing a hint of a joke in his eyes.

“I’m just homesick.”

He nodded, knowing how that felt. For him he felt homesick with his mother, spending time with her and getting to see her all the time. His father on the other hand– well he had assumed that a normal father-son relationship boiled down to sending presents when he seemed to remember he had a son.

“I know it’s dumb too, but I feel like I’m just annoying to everyone sometimes, and that everyone except for a few people only see me as Q’s sibling. I just feel out of place sometimes. It’s not always a feeling that’s there, but today it is.”

Minho didn’t realize that you had felt this way. As annoying as you could be, he found that you truly cared for your friendships, and always kept within boundaries. He knew that if he were to ask even your classmates you were well liked, keeping to yourself but willing to help those if needed.

“I know I’m probably the last person you wanna hear this from, but you’re not annoying.”

You gave him a skeptical look and he let out a soft laugh.

“Okay, sometimes you’re annoying. But you’re someone that people really enjoy to be around. I know whatever I say may seem hollow, but you really do mean a lot to people. I don’t think people just see you as Q’s sibling, I believe they see you for you. You’re kind, smart, and witty.”

You stared at him, a little shocked at how he saw you. All this time you thought he actually hated you, but perhaps you were wrong?

A small smile crept onto your lips, and he felt something in him swell at your smile.

“Thank you, Minho.” you whispered, fiddling with your sleeves.

He wasn’t sure what it was, but there seemed to be something between the two of you. Neither one of you said anything, the silence palpable . Both of you failed to realize that you were both leaning closer to each other’s faces, close enough to kiss until his phone started ringing.

The ringing snapped both of you out of whatever trace you were in, and he looked to see who was calling him.

You saw his phone screen light up with Lulu’s name and contact picture, and you immediately felt awkward. He had a date tonight, and whatever almost happened between the two of you was most definitely a bad idea.

Minho seemed torn as to what to do, until your voice reached his ears.

“Answer it.”

He hesitated for a moment longer before getting up from the stairs and answering the call.

Lulu was calling to let him know she was running a few minutes late, traffic being bad for no reason. She told him that she’d be there as fast as she could, and that she was happy to see him.

He nodded along to what she was saying, acutely aware that you were behind him, hearing him agree with what she said on the phone.

He quickly hung up and turned back around to apologize to you, noticing that you were gone.

You had left when he got up sprinting to your dorm, heart beating fast and head full of thoughts of what could’ve happened between the two of you if she hadn’t called.

#xo kitty #minho x reader #xo kitty fanfic #xo kitty fan fiction #paris writes #1k celebration #min ho x reader #lee sangheon #lee sangheon x reader #xo kitty drabble #min ho x gn!reader

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chimcess · 7 months

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Waterlog || pjm (1)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, Age Gap!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 17.4k+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: discussions of significant death (does not happen in story), talks of a bad car accident, talks of drunk driving (please drinking responsibly), more than likely wrong swimming terms and poor understanding of how the Olympics actually works (I did so much research, pls be nice to me lol), strong language, lots of mental health discussions, reader has mommy and daddy issues, Older reader, Jimin is a complete sweetie, the tamest chapter of them all A/N: Well, well, well, look who came back. I first wrote Waterlog back in 2021, and while I enjoy the premise, I hate the finished product. I wanted to go back and edit/fix what I originally had, but when I tried it became so different, I was better off rewriting the entire thing. I hope you guys like this mini-series. If you would like to read the original go to my blog archive. Thank you for reading!

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Staring at the pool, I managed to calm myself with relative ease. Jin had been right, physical therapy had made things easier. The water glistened prettily in the lights, and I waited with bated breath for my trainer to come in.

Emery was a sweet guy, pretty with a lip ring and tattoos, but with a surprising amount of shyness it was laughable. His softness was offset by his powerful muscles, and I enjoyed his never-ending sense of humor. Unlike Dr.Maddox, Emery treated me like I was a normal person. Not an Olympian who almost lost her leg in an accident, or the woman whose fiancé died. I was just Y/N, and it was a relief to be around him.

Running my fingers along the scars on my leg, I mindlessly drew patterns around them in the silence. It was not normal for Emery to take this long, but his assistant had said he was running behind due to another patient, so I was unbothered. I had planned my entire day around this, so I was in no rush.

Finally, the door swung open revealing a disheveled Emery. Breathing heavier than usual, he rolled his eyes at me in frustration before saying his pleasantries. Whoever it had been had gotten him worked up.

“Rough morning?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

With an annoyed sigh, he nodded.

“I shouldn’t say this, but I hope that woman never comes back here.”

I laughed, “We all have that someone. Don’t feel too bad.”

Shaking his head, I could tell it took restraint on his part not to rant and rave about the woman who had left. Emery and I were more friendly than most. I had been seeing him for over two years now, but we still kept a semblance of a professional relationship. Especially Emery.

“How’s the kids?” He asked, making small talk as we started getting ready for a swim.

I was the coach of a high school swim team in town, something I talked about quite a bit, and Emery always liked hearing about. He was a great water polo player but chose to go into physical therapy while he was in college. After seeing one of his friends get injured and how much physical therapy had helped him, Emery decided to change his major. Four years later, he says he could never see himself doing anything else.

“They’re doing well,” I said honestly. “We got a couple of freshmen on the team, but they’re doing a lot better than I thought they would.”

Emery hummed, offering me assistance getting into the pool. While walking had been mostly figured out, the obvious limp aside, I still had some trouble with getting in-and-out of things. Even my bathtub had to be switched out since I was unable to step over it. I still used the medical chair while in there, too.

The water was cool against my skin, and I felt instantly relieved. The dull aches and pains left as soon as I got into the water. Swimming to my usual spot, I waited patiently for Emery to join me.

“That’s great to hear,” He smiled.

Going to the edge of the pool, Emery grabbed a set of barbells and handed them to me. Taking them, the two of us went over the workout plan for the day. Pulling himself up on the pool’s edge, Emery picked up his stopwatch and told me to begin.

Getting on the interstate, I sang along to the radio as I made my way to Hoseok’s. The two of us had been friends since high school, our mutual love for swimming making it impossible to keep apart, and only growing with time. He was one of my biggest support systems after the accident. Both of us had retired years ago now, but I remembered our days as Olympians fondly. Those were the best years of my life.

A small group of our friends were getting together at his house to watch the summer Olympics this afternoon. The women’s swimming finals were happening today, and I knew two of the girls competing. Turning on my blinker, I quickly got off the interstate.

Pressing around my car’s radio screen, I went to my contacts and pressed Andy’s number. She was off today and in charge of getting everything together. Hoseok had tried to do it himself, but always seemed to forget who should do what and ended up buying everything himself. She picked up after the fourth ring.

“What’s up, sugar?” Andy greeted, her voice soft and light. Her Memphis accent was thick and brought a smile to my face. Everyone had made jokes about her being southern when we first met. “Don’t tell me you’re missing Nationals.”

I shook my head even though she could not see me.

“I’m on my way,” I replied. “What should I pick up? I completely forgot.”

Andy sighed, “You’re just as bad as Jin.”

Seokjin was Andy’s husband. The two of them had been together whenever they moved to Colorado, married before I ever met them, and became quick friends with Hoseok when they moved to the Springs. That was how I had met them. Whenever their daughter Dani was born, Andy had asked me to be her Godmother and I sobbed in her lap. They were my closest friends next to Hoseok. Jin was indeed very forgetful, though, and the jibe made me chuckle.

“Cut me some slack,” I argued. “I’ve been working out for two hours straight.”

I could hear the smile in her voice, “Just get some pizza or something. We’re picking up some wings and Hobi’s in charge of the drinks. Minho and Tilly are bringing… something. I don’t even know anymore.”

Fully laughing now, I saw a Little Ceasars up ahead and got into the correct lane. Minho and Matilda were loose cannons when it came to our parties. While sweet, and fiercely loyal, I found myself wondering why I hung out with them at times. We were night and day personality wise, but I loved them dearly. Minho would probably bring some Korean side dishes from home, and Matilda would pick up a few packs of ramen from the store. Andy was stressing over nothing again. I hoped she was getting proper rest on her days off.

“I’m at Little Caesars,” I told her, parking my car. “I’m going to get the basics. How many things of Crazy Bread should I get?”

She thought for a second before replying.

“Five?” She was definitely unsure about her answer.

It was hard to gauge just how hungry everyone would be, and Jin was a bottomless pit.

“Sounds good,” I said instead, already thinking about getting more.

“Drive safe. See you in a bit.”

“See you, Andy,” I unplugged my phone from the charger.

Pressing it to my ear, I pressed my start button and turned it off. I climbed out of my car and started walking to the store.

“Love you,” She sing-songed playfully.

“Love you, too,” I replied. Opening the door, a worker greeted me with a smile. “I’m about to order.”

Shoving my phone in my back pocket, I gave the worker an awkward smile before telling him my order. I ended up getting seven bags instead of five. Just in case. Dani really liked the stuff and Jin could smash an entire bag by himself. While I waited for the cheese pizza to come out of the oven, my phone started ringing.

“Hello?” I answered, unable to check the caller ID while the cashier shoved the crazy bread into my arms.

“I heard from a little bird that you’re thinking about competing again.”

I grinned and thanked the cashier as she handed me my other pizza.

“Hello to you, too, Frank,” I replied. “And your little birdie wouldn’t happen to be Hoseok, would it?”

Frank and Sarah Boone had become a part of my life after the accident. They ran a local support group to help those affected by drunk drivers to get connected with resources and therapy. The two had lost their son when he decided to drive home drunk from a party and used the group as their own coping mechanism. They were wonderful people and owned their own joint coffee shop and bookstore in Denver.

“Won’t say names,” He chuckled, “But it might have come from a certain part-timer. So, is it true?”

I placed the boxes in the passenger seat and rounded my car. This was not a conversation I was expecting to happen today. I had brought up the idea to Hoseok since the Olympics were coming up next year, but I was not committed to it. I was enjoying my new job coaching and did not think I was in any condition for competition. When he brought up the Paralympics I laughed. Those competitors were in better shape than I was, and I doubted I would qualify. I was disabled but my disability did not (as far as I knew) carry over into the pool.

“I was just talking shit, Frank,” Backing out of the parking space, I put in Hoseok’s address and started to drive. Switching over to my car’s phone, I put my phone down and looked at the road. “You know I’m happy with my life right now.”

He made a grunting noise that told me he did not really believe me. No one did. All of them were sure I was miserable about my career ending far before its time, and while that may be true, I felt more loss about the life I was supposed to have than winning medals. I missed Namjoon more than any medal. Frank and Sarah understood that.

“I know that,” He cleared his throat, and I could hear the congestion. Frank had come down with a nasty case of walking pneumonia two weeks ago and was still recovering. “Just got a little excited is all. It would be nice to see you putting yourself back out there.”

It would be nice to see myself back in the pool, I could admit that. I had dreams of it at times. Being a competitor was a part of who I was. From the first time my dad took me to my swim classes when I was six all the way until I claimed my eighth Olympic medal, everyone had said there was nothing I hated more than losing. I was fiery, free-spirited, and kept my eyes on the prize. It was the thing Namjoon loved about me the most. That made me frown.

“I left a champ,” I forced a laugh. “Need to save some gold for the rest of them.”

Hiding behind humor was a pastime.

Frank laughed, oblivious to the hollowness in my tone. “Heard they have a new guy taking your place.”

That made me snort, “He’s not taking my spot. Totally different competitions, my friend.”

“Winning gold like you, that’s for damn sure.”

It must be Jimin Park. The kid turned up on the scene a year after my accident. He was a very, very talented swimmer. Fast as a bullet with the best butterflies I had ever seen, Park was a force to be reckoned with in the men’s league. It was a joy to watch him swim and this year would be his first Olympics. Hoseok and I were very excited to watch him.

“If you’re talking about Park,” I chuckled. “He’s far from new. He’s been competing for a few years now. First Olympics, though.”

“He’s young, ain’t he?”

I nodded, “23, I think.”

Truthfully, I did not know how old he was. I remember the buzz around how young he was when he first broke out on the scene. He was eighteen when he took home gold all season before a family emergency took him out of the Olympics last minute. No one knew what really happened, but his team had said his brother was in an accident, tragically losing his life, and Jimin was prioritizing his family. He’s competed every year since and with the Olympics next year, I was certain Park would be there. He deserved it.

I was parked in front of the house now and from the cars outside, I was the last person to arrive. Frank and I talked for a few moments. It was cute how much he had learned about swimming so we could be buddies. Sarah was the only person who recognized my face when I first started going to the meetings and her husband was determined to get me to open after weeks of sitting in bitter silence in the back.

We hung up after I promised I would make it to the meeting next Thursday. Frank was not happy about me skipping the past two weeks, but understood I was taking some time to myself. My boys were going to compete this year, I had fought tooth and nail for that funding, and the extra hours at school were exhausting. Jeremy and Evan showed promise, but they knew how to drive me up the wall with all of their simple mistakes.

As I suspected, the party was in full swing. Matilda and Minho were laughing loudly on the sofa, Hoseok sporting a beer in the recliner next to them, and Dani practicing her gymnastics in the middle of it all. I could hear the commentators talking animatedly about the girls, who they believed would come out on top and highlights from the night before, but I never really paid them any mind.

“Pizza’s here!” Minho boomed, practically running to greet me.

I laughed, handing over the boxes, “Need help carrying the rest in.”

Matilda offered, happily taking my car keys and leaving the house. Minho had disappeared into the kitchen. Dani spared me enough attention for a smile and wave before launching into excited pleas for me to watch her new moves.

“Super cool, babe,” I smiled sweetly after her handstand. Dani was not particularly good at gymnastics. She started later than the other girls, rarely did anything she was actively afraid of, and hated her coach. Andy was already looking for a better gym, but I just thought she should start pointing her in another direction. Dani loved dancing and she would be a wonderful ballerina or figure skater if given the proper training. The Kim’s, however, seemed fine watching her deal with gymnastics and cheerleading. “You’re getting better.”

Dani beamed, “Daddy said the same thing.”

Flipping the right way around, her hair coming out of its messily tied bun and falling down past her shoulders. Brown, loose waves made her look so much younger than her eight years, her small stature only selling the illusion even more. Her skin was smooth, and she always looked as though she had been playing outside in the sun, a constant tinge of pink beneath her sandy skin. Her features favored her father, large eyes, long face, and plush, pillow-like lips, but after meeting Andy’s parents, I could see her grandmother hidden within the mischievous glint in her eyes and too small ears.

“Your dad’s a smart guy,” I joked.

She continued to babble away as I made myself more comfortable, kicking off my shoes and tossing my hat onto the small buffet table that sat above the shoe rack. Matilda came back inside, her arms filled with bags of bread, and I took two from the pile. With a thankful, thin-lipped grin, she also complimented Dani’s moves before disappearing around the corner in the direction of the kitchen.

“Dani,” Hoseok seemed to have finally grown tired of hearing the girl talk. I would imagine this was all he had been hearing since he arrived. “Do you want to color with me?”

The little girl clapped happily, her eyes bright and shining, before abandoning her mat to gather a few coloring books and her massive hoard of crayons. Hoseok looked at me then, a sly smile on his face before winking. I chuckled and shook my head. He always did that to make her shut up.

I left the living room before Dani came back. I loved her dearly, but I could admit she talked too much. It was a good thing for a kid her age to be so social but that did not mean I wanted to hear her every waking thought. Andrea and Seokjin were the only parents in our little group, and I imagined it would stay that way for a while. Even if my dreams of children were still alive, I did not have anybody I wanted to take on that responsibility with.

Minho was eating the pizza, as expected, while Matilda had already claimed her own bag of Crazy Bread. Andy and Jin were snuggled up at their dining table, his arms securing her to his chest, and she curled into him. I loved watching them together. I had grown up in a house with two people who hated one another, barely kept up a facade of civility before my mother skipped down to be with her new boyfriend in Florida leaving my dad and I behind in Pennsylvania. We made it work but things were never the same after that. It made me happy to know little Dani would feel the love radiating in her home as she grew up. I had never seen two people so enamored with one another in my life- not even Namjoon and I.

“How was therapy?” Minho asked after we exchanged pleasantries. “Hoseok said you were talking about competing next season.”

I laughed in disbelief. That man did not know how to keep his mouth shut. I said the same thing I told Frank over the phone, and he scoffed. Minho never truly laughed, if I was honest. It was always a snicker, scoff, or chuckle. He was a man of little words and even fewer outbursts of joy, and I found his versions of those things just as reserved as the rest of him. He was the most expressive when he smiled, but those were just as rare as a genuine laugh. Dani managed to squeeze more out of him than anybody else.

“Stop meddling!” Andy scolded the other man from her spot in Seokjin’s lap.

“Never,” My friend replied, amusement clear in his voice.

“Never!” Dani echoed, voice louder than Hoseok’s. She was giggling happily alongside him, and I rolled my eyes. He was her favorite. “Never!” She repeated again, pleased when Hoseok laughed. “Never!”

“That’s enough,” Jin’s voice was even and smooth.

Dani did not shout again but we could all hear her and Hoseok attempting to cover up their laughter. Andy smiled fondly. Their little friendship had warmed her heart. After Dani, Andrea had been diagnosed with cervical cancer. It had come back six times before her doctor said she needed to get a hysterectomy. She grieved the children they would never have, the large family she dreamed of stolen from her, but once Dani was old enough to walk, she had been glued to Hoseok’s hip.

Hoseok for all he spoke about never wanting children, he adored Dani. His family was small, he and his sister the only children, but they were extremely close. She lived in New York City as a fashion designer and got married last year, and I always had the feeling Hoseok felt lonely without her. Dani was a welcome break from routine and made him feel special. It was sweet but I hoped my friend would find someone to share his life with someday.

“It’s starting,” Hoseok announced.

It was a great day for the U.S. Opal Simmons was one to look out for. She was the oldest woman on the team, a shocking 24, but she could out swim a vast majority of them. Her freestyles were amazing, earning her a gold with Japan just a few points behind. I was hopeful she would be able to come out on top in her distance swim. While not the fastest in the pool, the girl knew how to pace herself. The cameras cut to the shot of one of her coaches smiling triumphantly at the performance.

He was a good friend of mine, Oswald Bunch. He had been heavily involved with the Olympics for years now, promoted to one of the lead coaches back in 2020, but I remembered when he was still competing. A few years older than me, Ozzie was known for his backstrokes and long-distance swimming, and we bonded whenever we got the chance to meet in London back in 2012.

That was my first Olympics. I was a fresh-faced 20-year-old on a mission. My team at the time was stoked to have me around and I was excited to be there. I had built up a solid reputation over the course of two years, winning seven medals my first adult-competitive season, and the high was incredible. Back then, I was always the one to beat at the breaststroke and therefore, the medleys were in my favor as well. I walked away with 4 golds that year, and again in 2016. The accident happened a year later, but I left the competitive world with 8 gold Olympic medals and 19 world champion gold medals. Katie Ledecky held the record now, but for a time, I was the most decorated female swimmer in history. I was excited when I was finally passed up, happy for the younger woman.

Ozzie was the man, but sadly never got out of Michael Phelp’s shadow. It was not his fault. That man was insane in the water and would become the most decorated Olympian ever. Bunch was a great swimmer, but I did not know a single person who could compare to Phelps. Hoseok, maybe, but he only had 12 gold medals. Phelps had 23.

“Simmons looks great out there,” Hoseok praised, a large smile on his face.

“Her butterflies could use a little work,” I murmured back, already seeing how I could fix it with some extra exercises. “It’s slowing down her freestyle. What else is she scheduled for?”

“I think she’s doing the 200-meter freestyles and the medley relay,” He replied, taking a sip of his beer. “Bunch is banking on her pacing.”

“She won’t win those,” I was positive. “She’s just going to get tired. Breaststrokes are obviously not her thing.”

He laughed, “You’re the breaststroke queen, Y/N. No one's as good as yours.”

I shrugged, “Ledecky is a great swimmer.”

“Never said she wasn’t,” He sipped. “Her freestyles are killer. Girls could never beat you in breaststroke or a medley. You’re untouchable there.”

It made me smile despite myself. Hoseok was right, those were my competitions. Even if Katie had surpassed my record for most gold medals ever, I still had more Olympic medals than she did, and they were in completely different events. I could have kept my title had the accident never happened. I would have. Even if we were friendly, Ledecky would have been my competition, and I would have fought hard to keep the record.

“What’s Jimin doing this year?” Matilda asked as the women’s scores were posted. Opal would be a strong contender. “Anyone know?”

I nodded, “I haven’t watched every competition, but he’s sticking to what he does best. Didn’t he swim the 200 yesterday?”

“Yeah,” Hoseok replied. “He’s skipping out today and doing his individual tomorrow. Swimming back-to-back after that. Kid’s a fucking animal in the water.”

I couldn't agree more. As I stared at Opal’s smiling face, her pale blonde hair and bright blue eyes, I wished I had been able to watch Jimin instead. She was cold and impassive even with a large, perfectly white grin that took up most of her face. In fact, I found her quite boring outside of the water. No flair or features that set her apart. Just a tall, well-built blonde with a nice smile. Ozzie would have to work hard to make her memorable.

“Simmons did well,” I yawned. “It’s getting late, though, and I have work in the morning.”

The goodbyes were quick, and Dani made me promise to take her roller skating soon. There was a girl at school making fun of her and she wanted her “super cool” and “famous” aunt to tell them off. We all laughed, and I told her we could go this weekend after gymnastics practice.

My drive home was uneventful. It was already dark out, something that bothered me more than I would ever admit out loud, and I never turned on the radio. I preferred to drive in absolute silence, eyes and ears glued to the road. I had only started talking on the phone recently.

I was much worse after the accident. I refused to get inside of a car for weeks and if I did, I was a mess. No one was allowed to be a distracted driver either. No radio, no phone, no conversations. Nothing. Jin had been the default chauffeur during that time and put up with my anxiety better than the others.

It was close to a year before I tried to sit in the front seat again. Another five before I got behind the wheel. For hours I would sit in the garage with my hands on the steering wheel staring off into the distance. I was still in a wheelchair for most of my daily activities and a very obvious limp made me too self-conscious to be seen. Isolating was easy. Keeping the others away was more difficult.

My drives started with me just backing out of the driveway. I went around the block a few weeks later, hands shaking and Andy trying her best to soothe me in the passenger seat. I did not drive past the Whole Foods two minutes away from my house until after the second year. Things were easier after I ditched the wheelchair and got more open to the idea of therapy.

Moving out of Denver was the best decision I ever made, the Springs were easier to drive in and the traffic was not as awful. Andrea and Jin bought in Black Forest once I was settled in Briargate, so loneliness was never an option.

Matilda almost moved in after the housewarming party Andy threw for me. She said it was far too big for one person and the neighborhood was to die for. I laughed her off at the time not really wanting to admit how nice it sounded.

Nestled in Fairfax, my house was a beautiful piece of architecture. The striking brick and wood front exterior provided a warm welcome, with teal trimmings bringing a fresh feeling to the otherwise plain color scheme. With five bedrooms and four bathrooms, I dreamed of the day I was able to fill them all. A dream that I hoped would come before I hit 35.

Pulling up to the house, I waved to Chika next door. The old woman raised her hand, still nursing a large mug of what I assumed to be tea and smiled. They were lovely people and we often helped one another out whenever we could. Chika liked to bring over food if she cooked and I paid my landscapers to keep with their lawn.

“Late night?” Chika called out from her front porch.

“Went to a friend’s house,” I replied.

“Good,” She meant it. “Glad to see you getting out of the house.”

I smiled but was not sure how well she could see my face in the dark.

“Yeah. Night, Chika.”

“Night, Y/N.”

I showered quickly and sipped on a cup of chamomile tea before heading off to bed. After taking my night medications, one to force myself to sleep while the other blocked the never-ending nightmares, I climbed into bed. I was able to play a single game of solitaire before they both kicked in. I fell asleep with the sound of gentle rain humming in the background.

“Let’s go, guys!” I yelled, blowing my whistle.

The twelve boys waited, their small talk coming to an abrupt end. We had just finished warming up and I allowed all of them a short water break. I was a huge advocate for rest periods. No one needed to pull a muscle or fatigue early due to over working. I had a 2800-yard routine prepared, 800 of those done during our warm-ups, and the rest divided between our main set and cooldowns.

Jordan, our captain, was smiling happily. He was such an excited kid, and his positivity was contagious. While some of the boys were disappointed when I first chose him to replace our old captain after his graduation, I was sure his spirit would do everyone some good. It did not take long for the others to come around and he was beloved.

“Alright, so we have a 1600 main set. In between each of our reps, we will be doing a switch out of easy breast and backstrokes. Clear?”

“Crystal!” They all replied in unison.

“Alright. That's what I like to hear,” Flipping through my clipboard was more for show than anything. I used to rely on it heavily when I first started teaching since brain damage messed with my short-term memory, but I had been doing this long enough to know what was happening. Now it was just a way for me to write notes about their performances. “We’re starting with a 4x100 with 15-second rest; the first 25 butterfly. 3x100 with 10-second rest; again, first 25 butterfly. Following?”

No questions were asked, and a few guys voiced they were good for me to keep going.

“Good. Then we have a 2x100 with 5-second rest. First 25?”

“Butterfly,” Jordan replied.

“Thank you, Abbot. Okay, and we’re finishing up with 8x50 freestyle. Fast and easy.”

All twelve of them began to prepare to take their mark. One by one they stood on their blocks and waited for me to make the call. I admired them all for a moment. You could see the difference in each one of them. Those who were confident stood tall, their shoulders squared, and head held high. Newcomers were still figuring out their place on the team but were eager to prove themselves. Two of them would be leaving us this year, Gabriel and Marcus, and neither one of them were continuing to swim after graduation. It was a sad thought, but I was happy with how they carried themselves. They had both come a long way.

“Take your mark,” My voice echoed. Each boy got into their starting position as I watched them like a hawk. One of the freshmen, Phineas, needed major work on his form. I would talk to Jordan about it. Grabbing hold of my stopwatch, I took a deep breath. “Go!”

Marcus was the first in, like always, and I ignored him. I knew he was fully capable of taking care of himself. Phineas was the weakest link in my chain right now. He was struggling, his arms growing tired and his speed nonexistent. The other freshmen, Tobias, or as the guys called him, Twig, was not much better. He had more strength, but I chopped that up to his size. I would need to really start working some more beginner drills to get them in shape. Jordan and Gabriel would be more than happy to give up a Saturday or two to help out.

Marcus was the first one finished and I marked his time. Still a tenth of a second faster than Jordan. After Jordan came Gabriel and then Joseph and Anthony. I was disappointed in Jett’s time, but I would invite him to the weekend practices with the others. He needed some foot and hip exercises. Twig came in before Phineas, but every other boy was already out of the water by the time they made it back. Phineas was visibly upset, and I made a note to pull him to the side after practice to cheer him up.

Practices typically lasted two hours and the boys swam hard. Phineas did, in fact, perk up after I told him I was noticing tons of improvements in his performance. Twig just seemed happy he was not the worst guy in the water. After talking it out with Jordan, we decided on a good weekend time for extra practices, and I stayed behind to print off a poster and signup sheets for the rest of the boys. I had a feeling almost everyone except Marcus would show. He had a part-time job now and his weekends were full.

Sitting in my office, I poured over my observations and timecards. With a team this large I should have an extra set of hands to help with timing. I sent an email to the principal asking about helpers and got back to the nitty gritty.

All of them could work on something. Phineas might have needed the most work, Twig not far behind him, but my most seasoned swimmers had room for improvement. Jett was still struggling with maximizing propulsion, Anthony and Milo needed to get better water balance, and Gabriel’s pull could be better. Even my best swimmers, Jordan and Marcus, could use a bit of refinement in technique. It was nitpicking but they were too talented to give up on their potential.

It was close to nine when my phone began to ring. I knew it could not be any of my usual calls. Andy was working nights this week and Jin was fast asleep at home with Dani. Minho was in bed by eight, Matilda would never bother me this late, and Hoseok hated phone calls. Checking the caller ID, I was shocked to see Ozzie’s name.

“Hello?” I answered tentatively, afraid he might have called me by accident.

“Otter,” Ozzie greeted me happily. He seemed so delighted that I answered, I smiled even though I hated the nickname. “How’s life going?”

I chuckled, “Rockin’ and rollin’. Saw your girl last night. Looks great, Oz.”

“Appreciate it,” He was so dismissive of it I became interested. This was not a catch-up phone call or else he might have hooked onto the bait. My stomach twisted in anticipation. If it was not for pleasantries, then it was for work and that was something to be excited about. “Still teaching high school?”

“Mhm,” I fiddled with my pencil, papers forgotten. “My boys team is strong. I only have three girls that signed up so we’re just training during P.E. and hoping some more join.”

We chatted a bit more about the team. The longer it went on the more knots I had. Oswald was fishing for something, and I wanted to figure out what. After telling him about Phineas, I asked what the random call was about.

“Always cutting to the chase,” He joked.

I did not laugh.

“Alright, you caught me,” Ozzie sighed. “Look, the Olympic team is looking for another assistant coach and your name came up a few times.”

My mouth went dry. I had heard about Tiara Marsh leaving to focus on her family. She had a baby and stepped down a few months after coming back from maternity leave. I respected the decision and messaged her my congratulations. Ozzie had taken the lead coach position three years ago with Todd Packer as his partner. The other assistant, Drew Jones, was a sweet girl from what I heard and working with her would be a dream.

Still, it was an impossible task. Trying to imagine myself on the sidelines, coaching the next big names in sporting history with a massive squad behind me made my stomach queasy. I doubt any of them respected me. My leg was ruined, my career burned out just as quickly as it started, and I never had the chance to reach my peak. Now I am a 30-year-old washed up recluse. Just thinking about the media frenzy made my breathing get a little heavier.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Oz,” I murmured.

“I told them you wouldn’t go for it,” He replied, unsurprised. “They’re going to approach Storm Kline instead.”

“Oh,” Now I was confused. “Why’d you bring it up then?”

“Because I got to thinking,” I braced myself. Ozzie was known for his big, bright, dumb, impulsive ideas. “I knew the Olympics would be asking too much of you. Cameras and interviews are the last thing you want after the fucking circus you went through last time.”

That was an understatement. Circus did not even begin to describe the absolute hell the media put me through after the accident. So many speculations and insensitive remarks managed to ruin any peace I could have gotten during that time.

While I was in a coma, no one knowing if I would ever wake up again, the news thought it wise to harass my friends and family. My old coach, Victor Stanley, was assaulted whenever he left the hospital. When news got out that Namjoon was pulled off life support, his mother and father were so sick and tired of people parked outside their house they packed up and moved away before I even woke up. I wanted nothing to do with the media after that.

“It’s a little different but I think you’d be a great fit for the job,” Ozzie continued. “One of my boys, Jimin Park, is in need of a personal coach. His mom is sick and he’s wanting to stay in Michigan for as long as he can before coming out to the Springs to start training for Paris.

“I almost called Jung, but I don’t think the two of them would get along well enough for this to work. You’re the only person I know I can trust with him, and from what I’m hearing, you’re one hell of a coach already.”

This was somehow even more nerve wracking than the assistant position. I had never trained one-on-one before, at least, not long term. I was sure I could do it, but a high schooler was very different from an Olympic athlete relying on me to keep him in shape for the season.

“What happened to Hamilton?” I asked, still unable to wrap my head around the situation. “I thought he was Park’s personal trainer.”

“He was but the two fell out when Jimin decided to stay in Michigan. You know how Matt is.”

That I did. Matthew Hamilton was a massive asshole, and that was putting it lightly. He was one of the best trainers around and got results which was why he still had a job despite his rotten attitude. I had the misfortune of running into him quite a few times over the years and my distaste only grew with each passing. I could imagine that conversation not going over particularly well.

“But what about my team?” I asked, staring at my desk. All of my plans and strategies were mapped out and I was ready to put them to use. My boys were counting on me and leaving them felt wrong. “I don’t want to leave them high and dry, Oz.”

“Ask Hoseok to cover for you,” I rolled my eyes at his blase attitude.

“This is my team.”

“And this is Jimin Park.”

I hated that I understood where he was coming from. Most of my boys would never go off to swim professionally and their skill set was not on par with anyone out right now. They were not committed to the strict regime that would take and I did not get paid well enough to justify the extra hours. Jimin, however, would pay me extremely well and I would get that experience under my belt. I might even learn a few new things to add to my own drills.

“Give me a few days to think about it,” I finally conceded. “And set up a phone call, or meeting, or something with the kid. Need to make sure we’re on the same page before we waste one another’s time.”

Ozzie laughed, “I think you’ll get along just fine, but sure. I think he’d appreciate the gesture.”

Nothing of much importance was said after that. We hung up with promises of talking soon and then I was alone once more. My office was still just as messy and swamped with paperwork as it had been before, but it all looked different. It felt like I was already gone, and a deep homesickness settled in my chest. I stared at the papers in front of me and sighed before shooting a text to Hoseok.

As I expected, everyone had told me to jump at the opportunity. Hoseok even said if I didn’t, I would be the biggest idiot he had ever met. Matilda asked if she could come (I told her no), and Dani just seemed bummed that we could not hang out anymore. Andy and Jin were the most supportive of the situation while Minho the most cautious. He was worried about the media catching wind of something and causing a frenzy. After Matila pointed out how old news I was, I felt a little less afraid of that possibility even if it was a hit to my ego.

Ozzie seemed pumped when I told him I was open to the idea if Jimin and I seemed to mesh well. I was firm in my decision to talk to him before making any concrete plans, and from what Ozzie told me, my future student was extremely receptive to the idea. I also learned that Opal was jealous of her fellow Olympian, but I tried not to let that puff up my chest.

That was why I was sitting in my home office, hair nicely styled and a light layer of makeup on waiting for Jimin to join our Zoom call. I wore blue since Ozzie said it was his favorite color, but the material was slowly driving me insane. While the color was nice, deep blue and sparkled whenever the light hit it, it was scratchy and irritated the skin around my chest and shoulders. I almost got up to change but a small icon with the letters ‘JP’ in the center popped up before I could.

“Hello?” A soft voice called out.

“Hey,” I replied with an awkward wave. “Can you see me?”

“Yeah, can you see me?”

I shook my head, “Just your icon.”

Cursing under his breath, Jimin apologized for the tech issues. I adored how nice he was to listen to. It was unique, gentle and raspy, but also feminine in its softness. There was no bass or hardness, every sound and syllable light and airy with self-depreciating laughter after every insult he threw at himself. Apparently, Jimin was not great with technology and always had a difficult time with cyber meetings.

“This is fine with me,” I tried to reassure him. “I don’t need to see your face to talk.”

“No,” He agreed, “But it’s a little awkward for you to have your camera on and mine’s off.”

I could hear him clicking around. “I’ll turn mine off, too, if that helps.”

He shut that down immediately and continued clicking and typing. After a few more minutes, he found his problem. Then the icon was gone and there he was.

His face was round, his cheeks plump, and chin soft. The first thing I noticed about him was his lips. They were rounded and plump like a baby duck with a soft, heart shaped cupid’s bow that led up a small, button nose. Everything about his face was soft except his eyes which were almond shaped and flicked outwards like a cat’s. His hair was pitch black and parted down the middle, framing his face and making his pale skin look like snow. When he caught a glimpse of himself in the camera a large smile took over his face and I felt the wind get knocked out of me.

“Can you see me?” He asked.

I nodded, “Yeah, I think we’re in the clear.”

Neither one of us knew what to say for a moment. He swirled around in his chair in search of his water bottle. He stood up, excusing himself for a moment. He was also wearing a blue shirt, a pair of black pants, and seemed just as nervous as I did. He left the room while I sat and thought about him.

There was one word to describe Jimin: pretty. His soft lines and tiny waist made him look so much smaller than I had imagined him. All of the years seeing him on the tv did nothing to compare to watching him walk around a little room in his home. Without a cap and goggles, Jimin was angelic, and I felt uneasy. How was I supposed to work with someone I found this attractive?

“Sorry,” He was back now, a large Yeti cup in hand. “I should’ve made sure I had this already.”

“No worries. I’m not in any rush.”

He sat back down, and I finally noticed the large oval necklace he was wearing. I did not know what it could mean to him, but I had seen him with it a few times at events. It was simple and silver, no gem in the center of the pendant, and sat directly over his heart. He took a sip from his cup, snapping me back to action.

“How’s your mother doing?” I asked. “Ozzie told me she wasn’t well.”

His expression saddened me, and I hated that I brought it up. I knew how much I did not enjoy talking about Namjoon’s death, and while his mother was still alive, she was not well. Unfortunately, I could not take the question back.

“I’m not sure how much you know,” He started, leaning back in the leather computer chair. “She has melanoma and isn’t doing chemotherapy anymore. I’m staying in Michigan so I can spend as much time with her as possible.”

My heart ached for him and his family. Cancer had a reputation for ripping families apart and I could only imagine how this was affecting the young swimmer. My own grief was long and drawn out, guilt and shame hanging over my head for years before I was finally able to let it go, but the death itself was swift. Joon was dead and buried before I woke up from the coma, but I could recall every detail of that hospital room when Victor told me what happened. I hated to think about watching the life slip from him, knowing he would die, and knowing there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

“I understand. I’m really sorry to hear that.”

I knew it was inadequate, but I did not know this man well enough to say my thoughts out loud. Maybe later, after a few weeks of training together, I could get the courage to let him know I would be there if he needed someone to talk to. I knew all about navigating grief and I would happily help him stay motivated through this horrible, tragic time. Jimin stayed quiet so I took it upon myself to get the ball rolling again.

“I know you’re going through a difficult time right now, and I just want you to know that I get it and I see you. If we work together, I will make sure your mental health comes first. Whatever you need, whatever your family needs, will always come before getting in the pool.

“You were working with Hamilton before this, and whatever happened between you two- I don’t know, that’s none of my business, but I can promise you I will try my best to make sure our professional relationship doesn’t reach that point. Just tell me what’s up and I’ll make it work.”

Jimin smiled a small, sad smile that paled in comparison to that blinding show of teeth earlier. My eyes could not help their roaming and I felt guilty. There was a chance we would be working together, and I could not feel this way about him if that time came. I could only hope that if we did decide to move forward with this arrangement, any affections I could have for him would get buried. I would have to talk to Hoseok about this.

“I have to take her to appointments once a week,” He replied, voice small and eyes staring at something off camera. “She’s not getting her chemo anymore but still goes to see her doctor often to manage symptoms as best she can. She also has a dance class every Sunday morning and I will be going with her.”

I nodded, “I can live with that. As long as you’re still putting in work you can take your mom anywhere.”

He took a deep breath and finally looked at the camera again. The vulnerability I found there took me off guard. Jimin must be someone who wears their emotions on their sleeve, and I would have to learn to nurture that. Namjoon always told me I needed to work on being more sensitive to others, a skill I had yet to master.

“Matt didn’t like how much time I spent out of the pool. I understand where he’s coming from but I’m hoping we can come up with a training schedule that works well for the both of us. I feel bad enough pulling you away from your life, and I don’t want my personal shit to bleed into what you’re going through.”

It was a kind gesture, one I appreciated, but he needed to get over it. I told him in so many words that I was happy to help him.

“Trust me,” I said. “If I didn’t want to do this then we wouldn’t be talking.”

Jimin seemed to like my bluntness and I was fond of his over-analytical anxiety. The way he fidgeted reminded me of Namjoon, his forward and direct confrontation of his emotions and needs so strikingly similar it made it nearly impossible for me to dislike him. I don’t think a person alive could dislike this man.

“I can be in Ann Arbor next week,” Jimin had gone on another rant about inconveniencing me and I shut it down. “Everything here is already squared away. We can discuss it more later, how does that sound?”

He smiled wearily, his nerves causing him to squirm in his seat.

“I’m really looking forward to working with you, Y/N.”

I hoped my expression looked as sincere as I felt, “I’ll take care of you, kiddo.”

Pulling a face, Jimin laughed heartily. Triumphant, I smiled brazenly, his laughter contagious. I made a note to pull out a few age jokes now and then if it meant making him smile like that.

“I’m an adult man, I’ll have you know,” He was still laughing.

“Could’ve fooled me,” I teased.

“We’re going to get along just fine,” He seemed more confident than ever, and it warmed my heart. “Let me know when you’re expected to get here. Do you have my number?”

We exchanged our contact details. After days of talking over email, I finally found a smiley face emoji in my notifications, a Michigan area code attached. Saving his number, I replied with the old woman emoji earning myself another laugh.

“Talk to you later, Park.”

“See you, coach.”

I left the meeting, my chest much lighter after talking to him. He was a sweet man and not half bad to look at. I was a few years older but not disgustingly so, and he was more than available from the sound of things. Realizing the direction my thoughts were going in, I stood up from the chair to start writing out some drills and scheduling prototypes. Before I could get out of the door, however, my phone vibrated in my hand.

Jimin: 👶

I did not respond until I had my flight booked.

Me: I’m flying in on Tuesday. Know a good place to stay?

He replied a few minutes later.

Jimin: Do you need a lot of space?

Me: Not really

Jimin: One of my neighbors has their mother-in-law suite for rent. I could probably cut you a good deal with them.

I smiled. He really was a sweetheart.

Me: Thank you. And no deals. I can pay for myself.

Jimin: My mother would be very upset if I didn’t at least try.

Jimin: I was raised to respect the elderly.

I laughed out loud, thoroughly amused. I had a feeling he was testing the waters after I poked fun at him earlier. Jimin was probably used to the stick stuck up Hamilton’s ass. He was in for a treat. At the pool I was cool and collected but I could cut up with the best of them.

Me: Sorry, couldn’t hear you over the sound of my hip breaking

I was practically giddy with excitement waiting for his response. It had been such a long time since someone joked around with me like this. Hoseok tried but he was awful at taking a joke, so I stopped poking the bear. It was refreshing and all too familiar.

Jimin: I’ll get you one of those life alerts just in case.

Was he flirting with me? Did I care? Shrugging, I went along with it. I would remain strictly professional while we worked together, but if things developed after that I would let them. Happily. I barely knew this guy, but I remember this feeling. It was the first time since Joon’s death that it showed itself to me and I wanted to hold onto it.

First work then play, I told myself.

Who knows? This little bit of infatuation could fade just as quickly as it came, and I would leave Ann Arbor with a new friend instead. Might even be able to score a steady job with the kid if things worked out. My life in Colorado would remain untouched, my friends happily accepting a new kid in the group when he came to visit, and my house just as bare and empty as it always had been. The years continuing to pass me by.

I tried not to think about why that thought made me want to cry.

“I told you I’m fine,” I sighed into the phone, waiting at the baggage claim for my things. “You’re in rare form today.”

Andrea laughed, the sound slightly hysterical and I winced. That was the wrong thing to say, but she was driving me insane. I had traveled around the world multiple times, and she was acting like Michigan was going to kill me.

“Well excuse me for worrying,” Andy bit back, her tone clipped and harsh.

“I’m sorry,” I heaved one of my bags off the conveyor belt. “I know you’re just looking out for me, but I promise you I’m fine Andrea. You’ll be my first phone call if that changes.”

The other bag finally popped up and I quickly snatched it. Slinging the large duffle bag over my shoulder, I adjusted it until it rested comfortably on my shoulders. Lifting the handlebar off my large suitcase, I drug it behind me while I followed the signs for the exit. Jimin said he arranged for someone to pick me up but did not specify who. He was busy with a few interviews this morning and could not get me himself. He had been very disappointed about it.

“I know I’m nagging,” Andy groaned. “Scratch that. I’m acting like a total helicopter parent.”

I laughed, “Your husband had been even worse. The man tried to book me a charter flight because he was worried about my leg in an airport. What the fuck does that even mean?”

Everyone had been super happy for me, especially my team. Those boys almost cried when I told them who I was helping out and Jordan begged me to bring him back something autographed. None of them seemed as familiar with my own background but I was fine with that. All of them took to Hoseok rather well, except for Marcus who made me swear to come back before school let out. I did not tell them I was planning to make monthly trips to give Jimin some space with his mom. I was sure that surprise would go over very, very well.

Despite his indifference when I was first talking about the job, Seokjin became an overprotective dad as soon as I made him aware my flights were booked. He was quick to cancel them and put in a few calls of his own. Jin was an operations manager for Delta airlines and knew plenty of pilots. He was able to get me a plane to land in Willow Run out in Ypsilanti, but I quickly intervened and told him a normal flight was perfect. I rebooked my tickets and flew into Detroit Metro at 10 am.

Andy snorted, “He means well.”

It was snowing in Michigan, and I was finally hit with the realization that I would be seeing far more of it here than I ever did back in Colorado. It was only mid-September, so it was still light and melted away quickly. I would have to ask Jimin if it stayed this calm into December, but I had a feeling things would pick up by late November.

It was a very cold morning in Detroit, and I was excited to get into a heated car. Getting off the phone with Andy, I quickly sent Jimin a quick text message letting him know I was outside and looking for my ride. A loud honk made my jump, almost dropping my phone in the process.

Pulled up at the curb was a navy-blue Volkswagen Beetle. I could tell from its body that it was an older model, and it was a convertible. Sitting behind the wheel was a little old lady, a pair of gardening gloves on her hands and a pair of large, hexagon sunglasses taking up most of her face. Her face was familiar, and it hit me. Sitting behind that wheel was Jimin’s mother.

She smiled at me and waved, beckoning me closer to the little car. I forced myself to smile back. My nerves made it feel damn near impossible, but I managed. Opening the door, I did not know where to put my things. The backseat was so small.

“There’s a lever on that side that’ll push it up. You should be able to get everything to fit if you try hard enough.”

Fumbling around, I finally found the little handle and pulled up. The seat lurched forward, folding in on itself, and I clumsily shoved my suitcase into the backseat. It smelled like stale cigarettes and fake pine, but when you had a car this old it usually had history. I was excited to pick up my new car from the dealership. My Porsche already had a difficult time driving around Colorado and I did not think it would survive the heavy winters in Michigan, so I decided to leave it home and get an Altima. I had the money and could easily get rid of it. Tilly had been talking about needing an upgrade.

Finally managing to get both bags into the backseat, I put the seat back and got into the car. Closing the door, I sighed in content. The heaters were at full blast and pointed directly at my cold face. Buckling my seatbelt, I leaned back and tried to relax after the long day of flying. Jimin’s mother pulled off the curb.

“It’s cold out there,” She laughed, her voice just as sickeningly sweet as her son’s. “Glad you were able to make it okay.”

I nodded, “I’m surprised to see it snowing so early. We don’t usually get anything until closer to Thanksgiving.”

“Colorado, right?” I could hear a faint accent and I remembered that Jimin was first-generation Korean American. Both of his parents moved to the states before he and his brother were born. Media outlets loved talking about it, but I was not sure how much he enjoyed discussing his personal life. While he came off as a sweet and mild-mannered man, he kept his personal life private. “I’ve heard it’s very pretty.”

“It is. Too expensive, but very, very pretty.”

Then she was fiddling around with the radio, and I finally cracked a genuine smile. I was not sure how much work had been done on her car, but I was positive the sound system had been completely redone. A brand-new radio, complete with a touch screen and Bluetooth, lit up at the touch of her fingers. A man’s voice serenaded us through the updated speakers, and I was in awe at how beautiful it sounded. I assumed he was speaking Korean and Jimin’s mother sang along fluently.

“What’s your name again?” She asked once the song was over. Another, more upbeat song started, and she increased the volume. “Jimin told me but I’m horrible with that sort of thing. I’m Na-Yeon, but Audrey works if it’s easier for you.”

I pulled a face, “Audrey?”

“It’s my American name. It’s easier for people to pronounce and more convenient. All of us have one. Jimin’s is Christian.”

It was odd to think about. A name that was mine but not mine. Christian did not suit Jimin, but I could imagine growing up with a name that other people made fun of would be difficult. Maybe even impossible. Still, I did not feel comfortable calling the woman Audrey. She did not seem to particularly care for the name and I did not want to alienate myself from their circle for convenience's sake.

Namjoon’s mother had been similar to Na-Yeon, always afraid her culture and customs would make me uncomfortable or burdened, but I managed to calm her fears and reassure her after years of showing up to Chuseok with a smile on my face and food in my hands.

“I like Na-Yeon,” I finally replied, voice small. “It’s nice. I’m Y/N.”

“I like Y/N,” She echoed back to me, making me grin. “It’s nice.”

It was a long drive filled with K-pop, ballads, and sporadic conversation. Na-Yeon was very funny. She sang along to every song, dancing as she went, and calling on me to sing alone. Of course, I could not speak Korean very well and hummed the melodies instead, but it appeased her. When she did speak to me it was to ask me questions about myself.

“You’re that swimmer, aren’t you?” She asked, sparing me a look once we stopped at a redlight. “The one everyone’s trying to beat.”

I shook my head, “At one time, sure, but not anymore. I’m retired.”

Squinting her eyes at me, Na-Yeon pursed her lips.

“We used to watch you. Haru called you a mermaid.”

That was not too much of a shock. Jimin was swimming at that time. While I am a few years older than him, he would have been in middle school when I went to my first Olympics. He had told me he joined the swim team the year before. He said that watching Michael Phelps win 6 gold medals changed his life forever, and I could not help but agree with him. I had a huge amount of respect for my fellow Olympian and wished him well in his retirement. What shocked me the most was the mention of Jimin’s little brother. The dead brother.

“That’s sweet,” I did not know what to say. “I felt like a mermaid back then. I’m not that good anymore but I still like to swim sometimes.”

“You were in an accident,” It was not a question. “We saw it all over the news. Couldn’t believe all of those people harassing your family like that. So sorry for your loss.”

It was strange to talk about it again. I appreciated her keeping it vague. I had gone through a tremendous amount of change and growth since then, but it was nice to hear someone else validate how crazy the media frenzy was. I would not wish it upon anyone, and I was happy her family was allowed to grieve in peace. Neither Namjoon’s nor my own were allowed that luxury.

“Thank you,” I replied. “I’m sorry about Haru. I can’t imagine what your family went through.”

She smiled sadly, “I think you can.”

We did not talk much after that. The music still played, Na-Yeon still sang, and I still hummed, but we did not ask any more questions. Neither one of us wanted to bring up those hurt feelings. It was not until we turned down a long, empty road that I realized I had yet to ask her about her cancer.

“Are you feeling okay?” I asked.

“As good as I can,” She breathed. “My boys are both worriers so don’t take anything they say to heart. Bunch of hypochondriacs.”

And even though I laughed along with her, I knew that she was lying. They were not overreacting. She was sick, refusing treatments, and letting herself die. Anyone would be worried about her. Na-Yeon must dislike being taken care of. Well, I thought she would need to get used to it. I loved spoiling others.

“Eloise and the kids must be here,” She muttered to herself, pulling to a short driveway.

I did not know who Eloise was, but I would soon find that out. There were two cars parked out front. One was a simple, black Tahoe with a brightly colored steering wheel cover. The other was another vintage model. Painted a pretty light, muted green the truck was in pristine condition. It was an old Ford, the branding written across the tailgate, and a spare tire was bolted to the side. I asked Na-Yeon about it and she smiled happily.

“It’s Jimin’s,” I felt my heart rate increase. “He must’ve gotten back. Pretty thing, huh?”

I nodded, not really paying attention to the truck anymore. I was about to meet Jimin for the first time and my nerves were taking over. I knew how much his looks affected me over video chat and I was afraid I would not be able to control my facial expressions in person. I was resolute not to act on whatever attraction I may have felt toward him. My professionalism would not allow it. It did not mean, however, that I wanted to discuss it with Jimin at any point. It would make him uncomfortable and affect our working environment.

“Keep your bags in the car,” Na-Yeon told me. “Jimin’s going to take you over to meet the Andersons this afternoon.”

Walking up to the house, I was first struck by two things. The main one being the impressive teal it was painted and the other the loud talking and laughter coming from inside. It was odd. Thinking about my own parents I knew we had never been so happy. Mom had left when I was so young that I could hardly remember her, but I could recall the screaming and shouting. Dad was quiet after she left, spent most of his time locked away in the garage watching sports channels and leaving me to my own devices.

When I started swimming it helped for a time, but when I was old enough to leave, we spoke two or three times a year. After he met Danielle, his new wife, he stopped reaching out altogether. The accident had spooked him enough to warrant holiday and birthday calls for a time, but when he had another baby those slowly faded away. My half-sister and I had never met, Danielle did not like acknowledging that my dad had a child with another woman, and it seemed as though my dad was fine with how things turned out. I dealt with it.

The laughing echoed through the house, and I could hear loud foot-steps pitter pattering on the tile floors. The house smelled heavily of kimchi and lemons making my heart ache. Joon and I used to keep the windows open for days after his mother came over to make kimchi with him. We would squat on the floor for hours, laughing and talking. I missed those days more than I realized and I smiled involuntarily. For the first time in years, it felt like coming home.

“Sorry about the smell,” Na-Yeon whispered to me.

I shook my head and took my shoes off. “I love kimchi.”

She smiled brightly, her shoulders immediately relaxing. I was glad I had spent so much time with Namjoon and his family. Na-Yeon was someone who wanted to make others feel more comfortable even if it put her own peace at risk, but I would never ask her to change her routine for me. I loved learning about other people and her little house brought me more happiness than I thought possible.

“Sounds like we have company!”

A short, stocky man came into the living room. He was wearing a white polo shirt and khaki shorts; his hair was very short with silver streaks starting to take over the once very black strands. Catching sight of me he smiled.

“You must be Y/N,” The man said. “I’m James.”

His accent was much thicker than Na-Yeon’s and he introduced himself in his English name. He seemed much happier about it than his wife did, and I decided to go along with it. If he wanted me to call him James, then I would.

“Nice to meet you,” I replied, giving him a small bow.

His smile got even bigger somehow, and he returned the gesture. Na-Yeon chuckled beside me and started to speak to her husband in Korean. I picked up a few words and deduced that he was supposed to make sure I was going to get a nice lunch, and she wanted to know if he had taken care of it. He nodded and told her he had.

“Hungry?” James asked, Na-Yeon already disappearing into the house.

“Yes,” I quickly followed behind him.

“I made jjigae,” He frowned. “I can’t say it in English. Sorry.”

The house was small and warmly lit. Cream tile flooring, exposed wood beams, and white walls. Whatever loud conversation they had been having before I got here had died down, but the footsteps did not. I could hear children giggling somewhere in the little home and my curiosity peaked. I did not think they were Na-Yeon and James’s.

“I want to say it’s soup,” I kept my voice down not wanting to make him feel awkward. “Or stew, but I don’t think it matters that much.”

“What’s the difference?” James asked, just as amused as his wife at my vague knowledge of Korean words. “Soup and stew the same, no?”

I shrugged, “I have no clue. I’m a miserable cook.”

That made James laugh. We passed all of the rooms in the house, the kitchen, living room, and dining room all in the back of the house. As we passed the second room to the left, James said it had been Haru’s photography studio before he passed away, but they ended up converting it once Eloise gave birth. He did not say it out loud, but I had gathered the kids running around had been their youngest son’s. I did not know how old Haru had been when he died, but it was far too young to be having children. I was 31 and still felt ill equipped for the job.

It was a small kitchen with very simple and plain colors. The countertops were obviously laminate, but someone had taken the time to stick on a marble patterning to make it look nicer. Black appliances clashed with the chestnut cabinets. The tiles were no longer cream but hideous black and white checker printed that clashed heavily against the olive-green backsplash. While the rest of the house seemed to go through renovations at some point, I had a feeling the kitchen remained largely untouched.

Sitting at a small table on the other side of the room were Na-Yeon, Jimin, and a young woman. She was a cute girl, long brown hair and blue eyes, a large number of freckles across her cheeks. Her outfit was very modest, a pair of flowy cream pants and an equally flowy olive shirt. Her hair was tied back with a ribbon that matched her pants, and taking a closer look at her, she wore no makeup. A classic girl next door.

“Come sit,” Na-Yeon waved me over, her voice showing no room for argument. “Hyun-Soo is in charge of lunch.”

I was only briefly confused, the name completely unfamiliar, but by the time I sat down I was sure she was talking about James. It made sense for her to call him by his Korean name, and since I had shown no qualms about using their proper names, she saw no need to bring them up herself.

“Nice to finally meet you,” Jimin’s sweet voice reached me, and I smiled at the sound. “I hope getting here wasn’t too bad.”

He reached out to me, and I happily took his hand in my own. The skin was soft, perfectly smooth, and warm. It was over far too quickly but my displeasure was easily hidden. Andrea always complained about my poker face and how difficult it was to get past it. She said it was too good and thus refused to ever play poker with me again.

“It was nice,” I meant it. Na-Yeon was wonderful company.

“Hope the concert was nice.”

That made me and Eloise laugh. Na-Yeon smacked Jimin’s arm playfully, unable to keep the smile off her face, and the two began to bicker. Having them in the same room highlighted the differences I hadn't noticed before. Jimin’s nose was closer to his father’s, his eyes, too, and both of them had a slight lisp. Na-Yeon’s teeth were perfectly white and straight while one of Jimin’s front teeth was slightly chipped. Jimin had a dimple; his mother had none. Their English soon turned to digs in Korean and I could no longer follow. A few words here and there but nothing substantial. James joined them.

“Hi,” Eloise shyly greeted me, obviously used to being left out of conversations.

“Hey,” I replied lamely. “Eloise?”

She nodded, “Cam and Harper are playing but you’ll meet them in a bit.”

I nodded along and cemented the names into memory. It would look bad if I forgot them and kids had an ability to remember the worst things about a person. I did not want them to dislike me this quickly. Their giggles and feet were still going, and I suspected they had their own rooms on top of the little playroom in the hall.

“What do you do for work?” I asked Eloise, hoping my attempts at small talk were going over well. The other three were still chatting and I stopped paying attention long enough to be completely lost. Their dialect was different from Namjoon’s family, and I gave up entirely once they switched in and out of it with ease.

“I’m taking over Audrey’s restaurant,” Eloise, it seemed, preferred to use their American names. I wondered if she called Jimin ‘Christian.’ I really did not like the name for him. Not at all. “We used to be co-owners but she’s preparing for…” Eloise’s eyebrows scrunched together as she struggled to come up with a way to voice her thoughts, “her next steps. You know what I mean?”

I nodded. It was so easy to forget why I was really here when Na-Yeon was so full of life. She laughed and joked easily, sang off-key in the car without a care in the world, and called the shots at home. I had hardly noticed any sickness, but I knew better. I already figured out she hated being cared for and our trip in the car could have taken a lot of her. More than I realized.

Wanting to change the subject, I asked about the kids. Eloise was more than happy to talk about her little ones. Cameron and Harper were twins, names that she had originally been very against but when she lost Tony (Haru preferred his American name, Anthony, and all of his closest friends called him Tony), her opinions changed. Harper was the bigger, older baby, while her brother needed to stay in the NICU for a few days after birth due to his weight. They were joined at the hip and rarely seen without the other, something Eloise was happy about given she was usually too busy to spend as much time with them as she would have liked.

“How old are they?” I asked.

“Almost 4.”

Jimin was 19 then. I shuddered to think about how old Haru was, or Eloise for that matter when they became parents. When I was their age, I had been at the top of my game, though not what I would call my prime. If I had gotten pregnant my career would not have been over, but meeting Joon never would have happened. That was a travesty regardless of how things turned out. Trying to picture a life without him touching it made me physically ill and so I pushed any of those thoughts away.

Cam and Harper came out of their room when dinner was ready. They were both very cute, loud, and dressed identically. Harper’s hair was braided down her back while Cam’s was in a bowl cut, and I laughed every time the little girl made a big show about her sparkly red shoes.

James made a very spicy fish stew. It was delicious, so salty and hot, but I needed multiple glasses of water as I ate. He used red snapper adding a sweet, nutty flavor to the otherwise savory dish and I loved the zucchini. Like many Korean meals there was an array of side dishes surrounding the large pot of stew. Tonight was braised potatoes, steamed eggplant, a radish salad, and, of course, kimchi. A small bowl of rice was given to all of us to eat the stew with and the rice cooker was filled if any of us wanted more.

The Parks were a lovely family. Jimin was quiet and did not talk to me much but his mother more than made up for his silence. After getting all of the details about my coaching job she moved on to my life back in Colorado. We talked about my friends and what they were like, my house, and even my neighbors. Na-Yeon seemed particularly interested in Hoseok since Jimin had been such a fan of his growing up.

“You need to get her over to Calvin and Violet’s,” James told his son, scraping up the last bit of the soup out of his bowl. “They’re expecting her soon.”

Jimin looked at me, eyebrow raised, “Are you ready?”

I nodded, “We can leave whenever you’re done.”

He smiled and went back to eating his meal. Eloise left before I did, Cam was tired and Harper was bored without her playmate, so she decided it was time they went home. Cam liked an afternoon nap still, but his sister could run all day if you let her. Harper gave me a big bear hug before she left, something Na-Yeon said she did to everyone, and held her brother’s hand on their way out.

Na-Yeon eventually got up from the table, James followed after her, leaving Jimin and I alone. I did not know what to say, if he wanted me to say anything at all. He had hardly spoken to me since I arrived, and it left me feeling out of place. I was here for him, and he wanted nothing to do with me. He kept eating, the spice unfazed him, and getting bowl after bowl of rice.

Watching him walk around I was struck by how short he was. Most male swimmers were huge, well over 6 feet, and broadly built. Not Jimin. He could not be any taller than 5’9” with a thin, tiny waist. I could see defined muscles hidden underneath his white t-shirt, but nothing spectacular. Even his body was soft and elegant, moving gracefully and quietly, and absolutely none of it would give away that he was a world-class athlete. As if he could feel my eyes following him, Jimin’s eyes snapped to meet my own.

“Sorry,” He pulled his spoon from his mouth. “I’m sure you’d like to leave and here I am gorging myself.”

I stopped him before he could stand, “No, no. I’m fine. I was just thinking about your workout routine.”

The lie felt heavy on my tongue, but I could hear how natural it sounded. He sat back down and took another bite of his food. His workout regime was standard for most swimmers. Pull-ups, bench, squat, lunge, power cleans, power cleans to overhead press. After that he was in the pool for a few hours before going about his day. He usually added in another swim at the end of the day, but he had recently given it up to have dinner with his family.

“What are you doing for your core?” I asked.

“I stick to pull ups, crunches, thrusts, and back extensions.”

I nodded, frowning, gears in my head turning. I have always believed the core was the most important part of swimming. Arms as well, but I have seen many overwork those muscles and lose from weak turns. Hoseok used to joke about my performance and how I only won because of my turns. I would make sure he would be able to see a little bit of me in Jimin’s swimming. There was a reason I won gold.

“You don’t look very impressed.”

I chuckled, “Just thinking. You need more variety than that.”

“Gym snob, are we?” His mouth stretched into a playful smirk, and I could not help but smile back. “You must be an animal in there.”

“I don’t work out like I used to,” I admitted, averting my eyes. “Most of my exercises are yoga and running now. I swim twice a week.”

I was hoping to get back in the pool more often, but I was not sure I was ready for the disappointment that would follow. My sessions with Emery were simple, exercise-focused, and had little to no expectations behind them. They were there to help me gain strength and confidence in myself. Saturdays were spent with Hoseok doing laps around the pool and shooting the shit. It was just enough to get your heart pumping but never went past that.

Failing was daunting. I could not remember a time before swimming consumed my life. My dad always said I was afraid of the water; it was the biggest reason he placed me in lessons. He did not have the time (nor patience) to teach me himself, and after I saw younger children getting into the pool I was determined to act like a “big girl.” I was only three at the time, so the memory was lost to time, but I went every week after that. It gave my dad a break and I had friends for the first time. I learned later that mom had left for a few months and dad was drinking again, but at the time all I knew was that I liked swimming, and I was good at it.

It was frightening to believe that all of the time, energy, and hard work went to waste. 30 seconds. That was all it took to destroy my life. 30 seconds and all of my joy, love, and happiness was gone. My career, my health, and my Joon. I hated the man who hit us. Hated the way his family cried for me. For him. For Joon. Squeeze my hands into fists, I was glad they were hidden underneath the table. Getting in the water and realizing it was truly over would only make that hatred worsen, and my therapist told me I needed to let go of my anger.

“Violet and Calvin are excited to meet you,” I did not know if Jimin could see something in his face, perhaps my eyes, but he changed the subject. The look on his face made me feel exposed. “We should get going.”

No one was around when I left so I did not get to say goodbye, but Jimin yelled that we were leaving. We did not get a response and I wondered if his mother had actually gone to do laundry or take a nap. She looked tired when she left the table. Jimin told me to get into the truck and laughed when I said I could grab my own bags.

“Your hip might give out, granny.”

Off guard, a strange, loud noise came out of my mouth. He had yet to start up our playful banter and my heart soared. Jimin was a very cheeky man, his tongue sharp, and with a quick snapback time, he was difficult to take down. Our text exchanges were always brief and about work, but he managed to squeeze in at least one teasing comment about my age. He said calling him ‘kiddo’ is what started the whole thing.

“Just get in the truck,” He sighed melodramatically, rolling his eyes.

Huffing, I went across the lawn and got into the unlocked truck on the curb. The interior was just as refurbished as the exterior. The bench was covered in a dark green vinyl, and I could tell the rubber carpet mats were new. It smelled much better in Jimin’s truck. Less like cigarettes and more like the cologne he wore. It was floral, powdery, but with a subtle spice that made it bitter-sweet. It had a nice scent. It suited a man like Jimin whose own spice was buried underneath his pretty visage.

Watching him jog across the yard, I suppressed a sigh. It was easier to ignore how pretty he was when we were around other people. Now it felt impossible. His clothes stuck to him like a second skin, the black leather pants (which I had only just noticed were leather) making his thighs bulge and accentuating his backside. He was gorgeous and I felt sorry that I would have to keep it to myself. Jimin deserved to be told things like that, but it was not my place to do so. Not as a coach, trainer, or otherwise.

He tossed my things into the cab of the truck as if they weighed nothing. Arms lifted; his shirt rose revealing a delicious patch of skin. Watching him in the rearview mirror, I swallowed audibly. A thin, almost nonexistent patch of hair touched his belly button. Forcing myself to look away, I took a few deep breaths.

This trip was going to be long. Very, very long.

The drive down the road was quiet. Jimin’s radio was out, and he needed to replace it, so music was not an option, and he did not seem to want to fill the space between us. Neither did I. My growing bashfulness around him was distracting and strange. I had always been surrounded by attractive men, all of my friends back home were very good looking, but none affected me in the same way Jimin had. Perhaps it was due to my relationship with Namjoon that made all of the other men pale in comparison, but I could never know for sure. Either way, it was incredibly frustrating.

We drove for less than ten minutes. Calvin and Violet were the elderly couple renting out the small house in their backyard. Jimin had spoken to them for me, and they were all too willing to help me out. Violet nearly cried when I told her I was going to pay all of my rent up front, and actually did when I told her that I would help her fix up some things around the house while I was in town. The Andersons seemed like lovely people, and I was happy to know them.

Pulling up to the house I smiled. It was exactly how I imagined it would be. The Anderson house was a simple, All-American home with a front porch. The window trimming was black, house white, and a beautiful garden wrapped around the front at either side. The roof and front door were the same color green as Jimin’s truck, and it helped the otherwise unnoteworthy home feel more inviting. Sitting on the porch swing was Violet, her silver hair braided down her shoulder.

“Before we get out,” Jimin mumbled, waving at Violet through my window. The old woman waved back, a large smile on her face making her look twenty years younger. “The Andersons are great people, but Calvin’s starting to forget stuff. Violet won’t admit it but it’s getting hard on her to deal with him. He can become very angry so keep an ear out. Last time he had an episode, Violet called my dad crying. She’s not handling it well.”

I frowned, my heart hurting, “Sure thing. I’ll let you know if anything happens.”

“Thanks.”

He was out of the car a few seconds later, voice so sweet and bubbly you would have never guessed what we had been talking about. Staring after him, my eyes squinted. I would have to keep my eye on him. Jimin was a great actor.

Getting out of the truck, I took out my bags and slung my duffle on my back. Jimin was quick to take my suitcase away once he caught me in the corner of his eye. Violet seemed positively giddy about it and made a few inappropriate comments about Jimin needing to settle down.

“I’m just saying,” She laughed when Jimin scoffed, face flushing the prettiest shade of pink. “You’re going to make a young woman very happy. Might as well get started.”

It was strange to think about my trainee seeing someone. He had made it very clear in his interviews over the years that his dating life was on hold until he was finished swimming. He did not want the added distraction and his family life was far too chaotic for him to focus on someone. This did not seem to deter Violet and her comments about his love life, or lack thereof, continued until we got inside of the house.

“Well,” Violet acknowledged me for the first time since I arrived, “This is the main house. It’s not much but it’ll work. Christian, take her stuff out back.”

I cringed. It really did not suit Jimin at all, but he seemed completely unfazed. Violet used his names interchangeably, sometimes calling him Jimin and other times Christian, but his English name rolled off her tongue more often than not. I wondered why she even bothered calling him Jimin at all. He did not seem to care either way.

Looking around the little house, I was pleasantly surprised by how clean it all was. The floors were carpeted and the walls a bright white, family photos hung up alongside landscape paintings. During my two-hour phone call with Violet, the woman talked my ear off, she bragged about Calvin’s art. I had to admit they were all very beautiful and I wanted to know where he had found all of the slices of heaven he captured. I hoped the places themselves were more colorful than he depicted. The muted washes of color made them blend in with the rest of the boring house even with how nice they were.

The furniture was just as boring as the house itself. All of it was cream or beige, nothing of importance really stuck out to me, and I was disappointed. All I could figure out about the couple was one was an artist and they had children and grandchildren they loved displaying. Even the smell of the house lacked character. No air freshener, no food, and no perfumes. Nothing to give away that people actually lived here. The Anderson home was a foil to the Park’s in every way.

“Come on out back,” Violet was already across the house, standing in front of a door beside the kitchen. “This is the utility room. You can do your laundry here.”

Following behind her, I felt even more depressed looking at her kitchen. It was nice, new appliances and a pretty coffee station on the corner closest to the utility room door, but it was bland. All white cabinets, white marble countertops, and stainless steel everything. Even the curtains hanging around the windows above the sink were dreadfully plain.

The utility room, like everything else, was plain. The washer and dryer were white, the floor concrete, and the shelving barebones. The detergent was the most colorful thing I saw since arriving. Somehow even this room smelled like absolutely nothing. Directly across from the door we entered was the backdoor and Violet told me where they would hide a key for me to be able to get inside.

“Ready to see it?” She asked, smiling politely.

I nodded, “Thanks again for renting it out to me.”

She chuckled, “No thanks needed. You were paying, that was enough for me to say yes.”

The back porch was tiny, just barely big enough for the both of us to stand on. There was a small vegetable garden along the side of the house, but it was empty. Noticing my wandering eyes, Violet told me all about the turnips and gourds she had been planting this season. She had watermelon and tomatoes in the summer, but they were long gone. The rest of the yard was taken up by my home for the next few months.

It was small, but that was to be expected. What disappointed me, though I should have not been very surprised, was how white it was. The windows were a dark gray, a small porch was set up with enough room for one of those hanging egg chairs, and two built-in planters. They were empty and Violet told me I was welcome to give gardening a chance if I was interested. She was planning on growing some flowers eventually, but she was not sure what she wanted.

The front door was open, Jimin already inside, and Violet and I went in. There was a small entryway, two doors leading to rooms I would explore later, and a small shoe rack. I took mine off and put them up. Violet watched me and took hers off as well.

“Audrey told me I should put one in here,” I was learning that Violet enjoyed meaningless small talk. “Glad I did. Don’t think Christian took his shoes off, though.”

I shrugged, “No biggie. I was going to clean up around here anyway.”

The house opened up to my right and I was happy with the space. I had a fully functional kitchen and enough space for my coffee cabinet along the wall. The living room would be able to fit a small loveseat, television, and coffee table. It was white and plain, but I was very happy with the floors. Whoever picked out the dark vinyl flooring must have had me in mind. I would go crazy if this place was as sterile as the Andersons’.

“I put your stuff in your room.”

Turning I grinned at Jimin. It was sweet of him to help me out. I was going to pick up my car tomorrow morning and he had volunteered to drive me. We would be starting our training next week so I could have some time to settle in. All of my furniture was arriving either tomorrow or the day after and my hands would be full. I was counting on Jimin and his friends to help me unpack. His manager was going to make himself known as well, but would not be staying for long. Apparently, according to Jimin, Sejin was not one to get his hands dirty.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll let you get settled in,” Violet was already scratching to leave, and I wondered why. She had been very hospitable over the phone. “You’re welcome to join us for dinner. Calvin is going to bring the air mattress out here tonight, so you have someplace to sleep.”

With a kiss on Jimin’s cheek, Violet slipped on her flats and left. Alone with Jimin again, I found it hard to speak. We were much better over text. Looking just as lost as I was, Jimin scratched the back of his neck and looked down.

“My, uh, my mom offered you her couch if you want it,” He stuttered, his face turning red. “Or, uh, um, you can take the spare room at my place,” He let out a huge gust of wind. “It’s a bit of a drive but I do have the space.”

Flustered, I quickly declined, “Thanks but I’ll be fine here.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jimin shook his head, the redness spreading down his neck. “For sure. Totally.”

The air was awkward now and I could not figure out how to fix it. Jimin was the one always breaking the ice between us, and now that he was acting like this I was stranded at sea. Even when he warned me he was more reserved in person I had not expected this. He was so quiet and skittish. How was I supposed to work with him if I could not get the courage to speak?

“Thanks for the offer,” I cleared my throat. “Are you staying for dinner?”

He shook his head, “I promised Jungkook we’d go out tonight. Any other time I’d say yes.”

I asked my disappointment. The thought of spending time with Violet and Calvin alone made me deeply uncomfortable. Their house felt like a hospital room and her weird behavior was unsettling. I could only hope Calvin was nicer but from what Jimin said he was a ticking time bomb. It would be nice to have someone act as a buffer.

“Why was she acting so strangely?” I asked, hoping Jimin had picked up on it as well. “It was like a totally different person.”

He frowned, “I think she’s just on edge since Calvin went to the doctor’s today. Their daughter took him, and she hasn’t heard anything. She’s a sweet woman, don’t worry.”

Now I felt like an asshole.

“That’s understandable,” I murmured. “Do you think she’ll be upset if I order food for all of us? If she’s stressed out, I don’t want her feeling like she has to cook for me.”

Jimin smiled, “She would appreciate it. I’ll go talk to her, how does that sound?”

I nodded, grateful. “That would be nice. The house gives me the creeps.”

That made him laugh, “What? Why?”

I shrugged, giggling with him.

“Feels like a funeral home or something. I hate the minimalist aesthetic.”

Jimin bit his lip, “You’d probably hate my place, too, then.”

I chuckled. It was easy to imagine Jimin inside of a huge modern house, dark wood and barely anything in it. He was a single man, busy, and spent so much time at his parent’s house it did not matter what he had inside of his own place. Not wanting to make him self conscious, I bit my tongue.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

He cocked his head to the side, and I laughed.

“Fine,” I conceded. “I would probably dislike it, but I don’t think it looks like a white padded cell.”

I may have been exaggerating a bit, but it was not that far off from how the Anderson home looked to me. I hoped by asking me to help fix up a few things, Violet meant giving the house a much-needed makeover. If I was lucky, I might be able to convince her to get a few throw pillows to break up the monotony.

“Jeez,” Jimin laughed. “Harsh critic.”

“Well, is it?” I joked, glad to have found our footing again.

“No,” He shook his head in thought. “It’s mostly gray and black, but still just as empty. Probably emptier, honestly. I don’t have as many pictures as Violet does.”

Smirking, he snapped his fingers, “My trophy room is pretty colorful. I have a lot of pictures and shit in there.”

That made me smile. I was not bringing any of my memorabilia here, but it was nice to hear him sound so proud of himself. I kept most of my competition stuff in my basement, a large China cabinet displaying all of my awards. My favorite had to be the small, cheaply made trophy sat at the very top. It was beside my Olympic medals, worn and dull beside the beautiful necklaces, but I loved it all the same.

It was the first trophy I ever won. I was seven and my dad convinced me to sign up for a swimming competition my swim class was hosting. He promised to come. I practiced a lot preparing for it and made use of the new above ground pool my dad had bought. I won the race. My own joy and happiness made me forget that he never showed up until it was time to go home. I had to wait with my coach for two hours, and by the end of it she felt so bad for me she took me out for ice cream. Dad never apologized, I don’t even think he acknowledged that I won at all, and I never tried to bring it up again. Still, I loved that stupid thing. It was the reason I wanted to compete. That little pocket of happiness between winning and realizing that no one cared was precious to me and I held onto it.

“I need to get going,” Jimin sighed, reaching into his back pocket and snapping me out of my thoughts. “Jungkook’s blowing up my phone. Just got broken up with and needs a drinking buddy.”

I sucked in air through my teeth, “Well, your services are needed. Don’t let me hold you up.”

Jimin smiled at me, “See you tomorrow, yeah?”

I nodded, “See you.”

He lingered in the entryway for a moment more before shaking out of whatever trance he had been in. Slipping his converse back on, Jimin waved at me before walking outside. His face was buried in his phone, so he never saw me wave back. He shut the door, the sound echoing in the empty house, and I was once again left alone.

Violet came out a few minutes later to discuss take out until we finally landed on pizza. She never said thank you, but her offer to give the tip since I was paying was more than enough. Then later when a few of my boxes came in early she happily carried them to me. She even helped me put everything away. When Calvin came home, she led me back inside and said with so much affection it made my heart melt.

"Calvin, this is Y/N. Sweetest woman I ever did meet. Bought us dinner."

Calvin reminded me of Namjoon in a way. His soft eyes and gentle voice. He took my hand when I introduced myself, his hands cold and soft. Wrinkles and sunspots went up the length of his arms.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," He said.

"Likewise," I replied.

We ate in silence, the three of us watching Jeopardy on the sofa. Even though I had been nervous about eating inside, Calvin's presence warmed the place up. Once a prison now felt like a poorly decorated home. A home filled with love.

As I watched them together, Calvin reaching out for Violet's hand and her giving it to him without question, I felt myself getting choked up. There had been a time I had that. Joon would be on the floor, book in his lap, while my hands were in his hair as I studied my training tapes.

I left early that night. I blew up the mattress, the house quiet, before sending out a few texts to my friends to let them know I was getting on alright. After that, I put on nature sounds to help me drift off to sleep. I had not felt this lonely in a very long time.

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio

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samandcolbyownme · 5 months

Text

Summary: When reader’s sister is in town to introduce her new beau, all it takes is one drunken night for it to all come crashing down.

Pre-warning: THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN CHEATING. Please do NOT read if you are not fully comfortable with this topic.

Warnings: SMUT18+, CHEATING, Colby cheats with reader, swearing, mentions of alcohol, reader drinking, drunk reader, low key flirting, teasing, sexual innuendos, unprotected sex, rough actions, choking, biting, scratching, hair pulling, ANGSTY, cream pie, fingering, oral (f rec), period and pregnancy talk, mentions of puking, general spice

Disclaimer: I am 100% against cheating. If you cheat on anyone, you’re an awful person. This one shot is 100% fictional and for entertainment purposes only! Nothing about this is real.

Word count: 7.4k | not edited

Enjoy!

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

“Another one?” You laughed into the phone and your mother sighs, “Y/n, sweetie. Be nice. She seems to be serious about this one, this time.”

You laugh slightly, “Mm. I’m sure. She was serious about the last three.”

You loved Mara, your sister, but one thing about her that really bothered you, was that she cycled through guys like a carnival ride. One month she’s in love the next, no guy can ever treat her right.

Blah, blah, blah..

But you’re always there for her, so you’ll be there for her with this one, “Did she tell you who it was?” You ask as you sit up, putting your mom on speaker so you can start packing.

“No, she won’t tell me a thing. I keep asking her for things but all she keeps saying it’s a surprise. Um, she did though, at one point say that you’ll understand why it’s a surprise, but that’s it.”

You pull your suitcase out from your closet, “Hmm.” You walk back over to plop it down on the bed, “That’s so weird. I actually have no idea.”

Your mom hums, “Yeah I have no idea.” She sighs, “So your flight gets in at what time?”

“Eleven a.m. Don’t be late.” You tease and she laughs, “Six months without seeing either of my girls is like six long lifetimes. I promise we won’t be late.”

You tear up slightly at her words, “I’m so excited to come home for a little bit. I miss my mommy.” You laugh and she sniffles, “Yeah. I miss my baby girls.”

You smile and sigh, “Alright well before we get anymore emotional, I’ll see you in a few hours. I love you.”

“I love you. See you soon, baby.”

Your mom hangs up and you get to packing. You hated it, and as much as you tried to stop the habit, you always found yourself packing at one of the very last minutes.

Mara said she was talking to someone new, but was very, very vague with the details about him. No matter how hard your pried and how often you asked, she never gave up anything.

You did know one thing, though. Your sister was pretty, so you knew that who ever the poor sap dating your sister was, wasn’t ugly.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Your flight was getting in two hours earlier than your sisters, but by the time you make it to their house, you’d only have an hour to talk shit with your mom and get caught up on the latest hometown drama.

“No!” You exclaim as you slam your hand on the counter, “She got pregnant with her bosses baby, and baby daddy didn’t know the baby wasn’t his until the birth?”

Your mom nods, “I guess her baby daddy knew she was screwing around prior and had his mind set way before anything.”

“That’s absolutely crazy.” You shake your head and stand up, “I think Mara and her secret boyfriend will be here soon. I’m going to run to the bathroom quick.”

She nods, looking down at her phone, “Oh, they’re pulling into the driveway now.”

You nod and make your way to the bathroom. As you’re washing your hands after, your heart literally felt like it detached from inside your body when you think you hear a certain someone’s voice.

You dry your hands and crack the door, pressing your ear to the slight opening and you hear your dad laugh, “Oh, so like a real life ghostbuster.”

“I mean.” The guy you’re really listening to speaks, “My best friend Sam-“

You close the door and press your back against it, hand gripping the knob so hard your knuckles turn white.

Your heart feels like it isn’t even in your body anymore.

You had no idea how this was happening, how he is here, in your parents house with your fucking sister of all people.

Colby. Brock.

The guy in high school you thought you were going to marry. The guy in high school you snuck out to see at midnight. The guy you gave your V card in the back of your car in high school to.

Your mind was spinning. Your heart was back in your chest and racing hard.

Would he remember you?

He has to know that you’re Mara’s sister, right? There’s no way she could keep him from knowing, you’re posted on her socials.

“Y/n?” Your mom calls at the end of the hall, “Are you coming back out?”

Before you can answer, your sister yells, too, “Yeah, come give your big sissy a hug! I’ve missed you!”

You roll your eyes, opening the door, “I’ll be out in a second.” You close the door and look at yourself in the mirror. There’s no way Mara knew you dated Colby, hell. You didn’t even tell your parents.

It’ll be fine, you convince yourself, it’ll be fine. Just act normal.

You take a deep breath, opening the door. You walk out and slowly walk down the hall. Act normal, you remind yourself, standing up straighter and putting a smile on your face right beside you round the corner.

Yep. That’s Colby, and for some reason, he looked just as shocked as you felt.

Your sister pulls you into a hug, holding you tighter, which only makes you feel more guilty when you don’t drop your stare from Colby’s.

“You look so good!” She cups your cheeks, “I hope this wasn’t, too short of a notice, this was the only time I could get off work.” She steps back and moves next to Colby.

He slings his arm around her waist and you bite down on your cheek. You couldn’t lie and say that you missed his touch. You both really didn’t know what you were doing in high school, but he was still better than some of the fucks you’ve had back where you live now.

God, you wanted him bad. You knew you couldn’t have him, and that’s why these feelings were so intense, right?

You mentally shrug yourself out of your thoughts and move into the living room with everyone else as Colby, what it feels like to you, catches you up on his life.

You feel your heart racing in your chest, trying to keep that sick feeling down as you avoid looking at Colby in any certain way.

You knew if you looked, you wouldn’t be able to look away. He looks, fuck. Beautiful now. He’s tall and a lot more muscular than the last time you seen him.

He was.. dare you say, a work of art?

You knew these next two weeks were going to be hard, especially living under the same roof as the very first person you ever fell in love with.

He didn’t know you liked him that much, so it didn’t really hurt him as much when things ended - or so, it seemed like he was okay.

The last three days, you found that Mara is very, very clingy with Colby. You didn’t want to assume or anything, but you kind of thought you picked up on her doing that when you were around them.

You didn’t really think anything of it, so you just moved on from it. You called up one of your friends and planned a night out with a few of your other old friends.

“What are your guys plans tonight?” Your mom asks as she walks into your room. You sit up, looking down at your phone, “I’m actually going to get ready to go to Tayla’s here soon. I’m going out with a few of my old friends from here.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet.” She smiles, “Your father and I have a work dinner benefit thing and then we’re going out for drinks, so don’t forget to take your key. I don’t know when we’ll be home.”

You nod and your sister walks in, “Did I hear you’re going out tonight with Tayla?”

You laugh, “Yeah. I am.” You look up at her and she tilts her head, “Do you think Colb and I can tag along? We’ve been looking for something to do.”

You see your mom look from your sister to you and you nod, “Yeah, no. That’ll be so fun!” You smile, “I’m going to Tay’s to get ready, but we can all just ride together?”

She smiles as she nods, “I’ll go tell Colby to get ready.”

“I know you probably think I don’t know.” Your mom leans in and your heart drops as she whispers, “But Lesa and I have been close for years, and you know us mom.. we talk.”

You look up at her and she tilts her head, “You still like him don’t you?”

All you can do is nod, but you go right into quietly pleading and begging her not to say anything to anyone, “Please don’t say anything.” You repeat for the fourth time, “I know you said moms talk or whatever, but this.” You shake your head, “Is not for your gossip. I don’t want to hurt Mara like that.”

She brushes hair from your face and sighs, “I know how you’re feeling, sweetheart. I know I didn’t want anyone saying anything, so don’t worry.”

You look up at her and smile, “Thanks, mom..” you sigh, “I have to get my stuff around.”

She smiles, giving your head a quick kiss before she nods, “Be safe tonight. Call if you need a ride.”

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You kept the whole thing about Colby in from everyone but your mom. You got lucky in the mom department with that one.

Getting around with Tayla wasn’t easy, mainly because she can still read you like a book, “Seriously, y/n. Are you okay?”

You lean back from putting your mascara on, looking over at her, “Yes, T. I’m good. I promise.” You look back at the mirror, “do you have that one top? The black halter top looking one?”

She nods, getting up to grab it, “Can I ask a question?” She reaches out to hand it to you and you look up at her, nodding as you take it.

She walks back over and sits down on her bed. She hesitates for a second, “Is it because Colby is here with your sister?”

You furrow your brow, “Um, no. Why would that be-“

“Because you have a history with Colby.”

You scoff, “Holy fuck. Does everyone know that Colby and I screwed around in high school?” You shake your head and look down.

Tayla moves to the end of the bed and laughs, “You told me yourself, y/n. At the senior bonfire. You admitted you were falling in love with him after one too many shots.”

You laugh slightly, “Yeah.” You nod, “Yeah, that sounds about right.” You scratch your neck and look over at her, “Okay. I’m actually glad you said something because I’ve been dying to talk about this.”

After an hour of filling her in while she got ready, she looked at you, “So he was just as shocked to see you as you were to see him?”

You nod, “He looked like I’m who he wasn’t expecting.” You shrug, “It was weird, it’s all weird actually.” You laugh and groan, “Out of all people, why him? She couldn’t have just left this one alone.”

“Did she or does she know that you and him used to..” Tayla trails off and you shake your head, “Well.. I hope not. If she did, she probably would have said something..”

Your phone goes off and you look down, “They’re ready.”

As you pull up to the house, you look over at Tayla, “Please don’t say anything about it.” She nods, “I won’t. I promise.”

You look over, your heart skipping a beat when you see Colby. His chest slightly exposed from his shirt not being buttoned up all the way. The chains that are hanging from his pants, sway with each step.

He looked so good, you were basically drooling for him.

“Hey.” Tayla nudges you, “Take a picture.” She laughs, “it’ll last longer.”

“Oh my god.” You mumble as you slump down in the seat, “Just.. put me out now.” You hear the back door open and you sit up straight, clearing your throat and your sister and Colby get in.

“Heeey, Tay. How are you?” Mara asks as she closes the door. Tayla nods, “I’m good, how are you?” Mara nods, smiling as she looks at Colby, “I’m good. So, Tayla. This is Colby, Colby. Tayla.”

Colby nods, “Yeah, I remember Tayla from school.”

Oh fuck. Your heart anxiously skips a beat.

“Wait, I know you’re from here, too. But if you went to school with Tayla, then you went to school with-“ Mara points at you and you nod, “I thought you knew that Colby graduates with me and Tay?”

“It must have slipped my mind because I graduated high school before you became a freshman.” Mara gives you slight attitude and you raise your brows, “You good, Mar?”

She nods, “Yeah. Why?”

You shake your head, “Nothing, it just.. sounded like you were coming at me for a second.” She laughs, trying to cover up her obvious jealousy, “No, it’s just a really small world, isn’t it.”

You laugh slightly, glancing over at Tay before nods, “It sure is.”

Colby knew you were talking to him.

“So what bar are we going to?” Colby asks with hopes of trying to break the tension. Tay sighs, “Well, I was thinking that we’d try a new one? They just opened one over on Saint Elm, it looks pretty good.”

“Are you talking about that bar you sent me yesterday?” You ask and she nods. You look back at them, your words almost getting caught when you looked at Colby, “Is that okay with you guys?”

They both nod and Tayla takes you guys there. You were actually relived to get out of the car and away from the clearly awkward small talk.

You grabbed Mara’s hand and pulled her back away from Colby and Tayla, “Hey. I didn’t know that you didn’t know Colby went to school with me.”

She sighs, “Y/n. Can we no-“

“No, we’re doing this now because I don’t want you to have a bad night, okay? I knew Colby from band, that was it. There’s actually someone back home that I’ve been talking to, okay. So there’s no reason you need to get snippy with me.” You laugh and you laughs, glancing up at Colby, “I just..”

She looks back up at you, “I’m not used to being with someone who’s so.. famous like Colby is. I’m always thinking that every girl is trying to get him.”

You laugh slightly, “I’m sure it isn’t easy. But it’ll get better. Colby, from what I remember from high school-“

Which is a lot more than you’re leading on.

“And from what I see on social media.” You shake your head, “I don’t think he’s the type of person to fuck you over.”

She sighs, “Thank you.” She pulls you into a hug, “Yeah, I told mom that you’ll know why I hid it, since you watch their videos and all.”

Watch their videos and all, yeah. Not like you had Colby’s dick in you first or anything.

“Oh yeah.” You turn, pulling her with you towards Tayla and Colby, “It makes sense now.” Tayla gives you guys a thumbs up, “We good here?”

You nod, “Yeah. We’re good.”

“Great, because I need a drink.” Tayla turns and walks into the bar. Mara snaps, “Oh shit. Colby.” She looks at him, “I totally forgot to ask you, would you be willing to drive us back to mom and dads?”

Colby nods, “I already planned on having to.” He smirks, looking between you and Mara. You smirk and walk towards the door, going inside to find Tayla and your other friends who were meeting you here.

You were doing pretty well at keeping your resurfaced feelings for Colby suppressed, but as the night goes on, and with help but the alcohol you keep putting in your body, your wandering eyes happen more often and you just slowly start to not care.

Everyone else was wasted, well. Everyone but Colby.

And he had his eyes on you, too.

You really did care about Mara, but Colby wasn’t helping matters with the way his pupils dilated when he looks at you.

You start thinking about how to get him alone and that’s your cue to bring up something about going on, “Alright. Once I finish this.” You point to your glass, giggling as you lean forward to grab it, “I’m.. done. I’m tired.”

“Aww.” Your friends pout, “We barely see you anymore, y/n.” “Yeah, come on stay out please.” “Please one more drink!” “One more shot!”

“Fine. One more drink.” You laugh, enjoying your friends praise you and Colby takes note real fast of that kink.

You slurp down that drink and stand up, “Alright. Who is my DD? I’m leaving.” You start walking towards the door and Mara and Tayla come running after you, laughing as they cling to your arms.

They were both absolutely shitfaced.

You were borderline blackout - anymore and you’d be a goner.

“You’re the best sister ever.” Mara slurs as she lays her head on your shoulder. You look down at her, quickly looking back to make sure Colby is behind you, and his eyes are on you.

You give him a smile and look back down at Mara, “No, you’re the best sister ever.” Tayla sighs, stopping outside of her car, “I need to go to sleep.”

You laugh, “I feel that.” You walk to the passenger side and Mara whines, “Tay.” You look at Tayla and smile, “You wanna sit in the back with Tay?”

Mara nods, her eyes closed, “I love her.”

You laugh, moving to the back door and opening, “Okay. In we go.” You and Tay get Mara in the car before you help Tay in. She pats your face, “You need to come back home more. I miss you.”

You nod, “I will come home more.” You buckle her up and shut the door, your drunkenness quickly blowing away as you get into the passenger seat.

You would have sat in the back, but you didn’t feel like moving Mara’s legs.

“Ready?” Colby asks and you nod, “Yeah, they’re good.” He puts the car in drive and starts heading back to your parents house, “Are you good?”

He asks that question a little quieter and you know he’s not just talking about the situation right now, “Uh.” You clear your throat quietly, “Yeah. Yeah.” You look over at him and he looks at you as he comes to a stop at the red light.

You looked away as you see the red light creep onto his face and you have to look away or else you’ll do something you really know you shouldn’t do.

It’s pretty much quiet, except for the snoring from the two girls in the back. They passed out as soon as their asses hit the seat.

“Did you have fun?” Colby asks, breaking the slightly awkward silence. It’s only really awkward because of who is sitting in the back. If it was just you and him, that’d be a different story.

“I did.” You look over at him, “That was until I realized how drunk these two were.” You point your thumb towards the back, “So now, I’m just tired.”

Colby nods, “Yeah. I expected to not stay out this late, but I should know by now who you guys are.” He chuckles and you scoff quietly with a smirk, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Colby smiles, and fuck. It’s insane how fast you still just melt into the seat for him.

“Party girl, y/n. Ever since high school.” He bites down on his lip and you know his mind went to that memory of you and him sneaking off at Friday night party because yours went there, too.

“You started that.” You point to him, “So, that isn’t on me.” You laugh quietly and you would have swore it was just you and him again, but the loud snort that came from one of the sleeping drunks, robs you of that being true.

“Mhm.” Colby smirks as he parks the car, “You get one I’ll get the other?” You rest your head back, closing your eyes as you prepare to drag Tay’s body into the house.

You sigh, opening your eyes to find his already on yours. You feel a heat rising in your cheeks and you nod, “Let’s get it over with.”

You get out, finding your key before opening Tay’s door. You lean over, looking up at Colby as you both lean in to unbuckle the girls.

Fuck you wanted to kiss him again - No, no.

You shake your head and lean back, pulling Tayla’s seatbelt with you. You see a slight look of disappointment on Colby’s face as you glance up at him.

Before he can say anything, you start to pull Tayla from the car, “C’mon, T.” She groans, resting your head on your shoulder.

You spin around and close the door, making sure your grip is tight on her as you walk her up the sidewalk to the front door of the house, “Alright, hey. I have to unlock the door, okay?”

Tay starts to giggle, “You do..” she pokes your cheek, “What-whatevvveer it is you got ta do.” She laughs and looks over at Colby and Mara, “MarMar!”

You laugh as you push the door open, “Oh my god.” You shake your head, motioning for Tayla, “Come on. You have to be quiet.”

“Quiet.” Tayla repeats in a hushed whisper, “Got it.” She walks in with you guiding her, Colby following with a now grumpy Mara.

She groans, trying to push away from Colby, “m-mm. I can- I can do it myself.” Colby sighs, “alright.”

You glance back, watching as Mara tries to remove her still buttoned jacket. You laugh to yourself, closing your eyes as you take a deep breath.

“Stay here.” You look at Tay and she nods, “Yes ma’am.”

You roll your eyes, laughing as you make your way to your sister, bending down to unbutton the last button on her jacket, “Alright. There. Now come on. Follow Tay.”

“Tay!?” She looks up and gasps, “She’s still here!”

You give Colby a look and shake your head as you sigh, laughing as you walk back to Tayla, “Alright, can you do the steps?”

Tay nods, but in reality, it was a dreadful, ten minute stair climb. Once you were up the steps, you kicked open the door to the room you stayed in as a kid.

Colby takes Mara to her old room and then you both eventually meet out in the hall.

You pull the door closes behind you, making sure to be as quiet as possible. You turn, freezing when you see Colby walk out of Mara’s, doing exactly what you did.

He turns, freezing when he sees you.

You kick your heels off, pushing them out of the way before you just walk past Colby and down the steps, but he’s hot on your trail, “Y/n.” His voice is quiet, “Hey. Please.”

You make your way into the kitchen, flipping on the lights above the sink, giving you more than just the moonlight pouring through the windows.

You turn, looking at him as he walks through the door, “What are we doing, Colby?” You press one of your hands to your cheek, “Y-you’re with my sister.. but th-“

You stop talking, shaking your head, “You’re with my sister.”

“But what?” He asks and you look up at him, “You’re with my sister. So, it doesn’t matter.”

“You had me first, y/n.”

His words catch you off guard, all you can manage to shoot back is a sharp, “so?”

You can tell he wasn’t sure where he was going with that either, but he shakes his head, “I knew you were Mara’s sister. I know what we have in the past, frankly.” He shrugs, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the day we broke up.”

“The day you and Sam moved to LA.” You correct, shooting a smirk at him.

He sighs, smirking, “The day I ruined your life, alright.”

You laugh, pointing to him, “There ya go.”

He rolls his eyes, “Still the same fucking fire you had in you when you were eighteen.”

You smile, cheeks turning darker, “I’ve missed you.”

The words feel like they’ve barely left your tongue. Your voice was so quiet, you didn’t think Colby heard until you feel his hand slide over top of yours.

“I wish you knew how much I want to message you each time I see you like my posts.” His thumb brushes over your skin, “How much I just want to call you, talk to you. Catch you up on everything in between that day and now, stuff you don’t see on social media.”

You feel like you could puke.

Colby’s unexpected confession has your nerves zipping back and forth at high speed, “I-I don’t..” you sigh, trying to calm yourself down, “Colbs.”

He smirks at the nickname you gave him in high school as you try to stay focused, “I-..” you sigh, “You’re with my si-“

He cuts you off, words coming out fast, “Say the word and I’ll be with you.”

You stand there in silence as you stare at him.

You knew what you wanted to do, but you also knew that what you wanted to do, was one of the absolute worst things you could possibly do.

But, you do it anyway.

Your hand drags along the grey marbled island top as you walk around the thing that’s standing between you and Colby.

Inches from each other, you look up at him. His hand slowly reaches up to caress your face, and as soon as his touch meets your skin, that’s the last sign of gentle you saw for a while.

His hand moves down to your neck, gripping tightly before your lips were on his. Your hands work at your jeans, unbuttoning them and pushing the zipper down before your push them down your thighs.

Your hands slide up Colby’s chest, moaning quietly and he bites down on your lip.

His other hand moves to your hip, pushing you to spin so he can lift you up onto the counter. He pulls your jeans down, letting them fall to the floor and your thighs immediately divorce each other as soon as his hands lay on your knees.

His lips trail down your neck, nipping and sucking at random spots. He kisses up to just below your ear, fingers pushing further and further up the inside of your thighs, “I’ve thought about this pussy every day.”

You moan at his words and he muffles them quickly with a kiss, “hush now, baby. It’d be a shame if we got caught.”

You nod, whimpering quietly as his fingers hook into your panties and pull them aside. He grips your bottom lip with his teeth and tilts his head back before allowing your lip to gently slap back against your top, “Still wet for me?”

Colby’s voice is deep, slightly raspy, and so, so hot.

That alone was such a turn on, and right there was how you knew you were absolutely fucked.

“you know I am.” You manage to whisper out. You grab the collar of his shirt and pull him into you. Your lips press to his and you gasp as two of his fingers push into your eager opening.

“Fuck.” You whimper quietly, wrapping your leg around his waist, “Colby.”

Colby he reaches up, laying his hand on your neck, his lips meet yours once more before he leans down, throwing your legs over his shoulders and not wasting another second before plunging his tongue where his fingers just were.

He groans against you, pressing his face into your to muffle his own moans. You lay a hand over your mouth, looking at Colby devouring you like he used to do years ago.

You did feel bad, you really didn’t want to hurt Mara, but at the same time, Colby’s eyes locking onto yours as he grins like the devil just tops everything.

You reach down, pulling him up to you. Your hands move to his belt and his lips kiss any skin he can find.

You try to quiet the clanking of metal as you pull the leather through. Once out, you unbutton and zip his pants and he’s pushing them down with you.

He grips your thighs, sliding you to the edge of the counter and your legs lift up to lay on his hips as he pulls his cock from his boxers.

You watch down as his cock slides into you and Colby slaps his hand over your mouth right as you start to moan.

He pulls you closer to him as he slowly pull out and thrusts back in to you, this time, bottoming out completely.

Your eyes roll back and your nails dig into the back of his neck. You look up at him, brows burrowed as you squeeze his cock.

He groans lowly into your hair before looking down at you, “So much better than I remember.” He presses his lips to yours, moving them in sync as he thrusts slowly into you.

You moan against his lips, already feeling that band in your belly tightening, “M’gonna cum.” You mumble with your lips still smashed to his.

He nods, resting his forehead against yours, “Mhm.” He presses his lips to your slightly sweaty forehead and he brings a hand up to cup your cheek, “Feels so good, baby girl.”

You squeeze around him, and he chuckles at the indication, “Still like that, huh?” He brushes his lips against your cheek and you whimper out, “Yes.”

He smirks, “Be a good girl and cum for me.”

Your grip on him tightens, and you roll your hips forward as you moan quietly. Colby’s brows raise and he lets out a breath, “Fuck, do that again.” He squeezes your hips, “That felt good.”

You roll your hips, meeting his thrusts the best you can as your orgasm rolls in, wreaking havoc over every inch of your body.

Your legs start to shake and you bury your face into Colby’s shoulder. He slides his hand up your back, holding you close as he guides you through your high.

His following close behind.

It didn’t register until after you were redressed that he didn’t pull out, but you just shrugged it off. You wanted all the time with Colby you could get right now.

After he buckles his belt, he walks over to you, “Hi.”

You smile, laying your hands on his biceps, “Hi.”

His eyes scan your face, licking his lips as he shakes his head, “I should have just messaged you.” You nod, “I agree with you on that one..”

You laugh slightly, “Now we’re in this.. this mess..”

Colby knew you were stressing. The only thing Mara ever talked about was how special or a relationship you guys have.

He cups your cheeks, “Hey.” He makes you look at him, “Well figure this out.”

You nod, “we will?”

He nods, “We will.”

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Since I haven’t posted much, I added a little subplot for you all 🖤 thanks for reading, I love you all so much.

A FEW WEEKS LATER

Ever since that night at your parents, you and Colby have been non stop texting, calling, talking - you’ve been basically catching each other up over things that happened within the last seven years.

Mara still doesn’t know what happened that night.

Your poor parents still don’t know about the island countertop.

You and Colby were just in your own little world for a little while.

“Fuck.” Your roommate, Jordan, groans from the bathroom, “Do we have stain remover, y/n?” You look up from your phone and close your eyes, “Um, yeah. I think there’s some on the shelve above the washer.”

You look over towards the bathroom, “What did you stain?” You laugh slightly and your smile fades as she walks out holding up her red stained pants.

“Oh, fuck. Okay. Here.” You walk over to her, taking her pants, “I’ll make you a lemon juice mixture. This just happened to me last month.”

“You and your little hacks. I’m glad we’re roomies.” She laughs and walks over, watching as you grab the lemon from the fridge.

You smile, “Right!” You grab a knife and slice the lemon a few times before you have to stop because you felt like you were going to puke.

“Y/n?” Jordan leans in, “Are you okay? You just went pale.” She stands up, “Hey.”

“Be right back.” You manage to choke out before dropping the knife and bolting to the bathroom. You slam the door shut, falling to your knees and heaving over the toilet.

You reach up, pulling down the silver handle and leaning back. You shake your head, thinking to yourself how weird that was. You’ve never gotten sick over smelling a lemon before.

Jordan knocks on the door, “Hey, you okay in there?”

You turn your head slightly, “Y-yeah. I’m good. I think I might be coming down with something.”

“Oh no. Keep it to yourself please.” She laughs slightly, “What am I talking about, I probably already have it.”

“I’ll be out in a second.” You explain to her how to apply the mixture before getting that sick feeling again.

“Okay. If you need anything let me kn-“

You lean forward, gagging as squeeze your eyes shut, “Oh fuck.” You wipe your mouth and let out a sigh. You pull your buzzing phone out and see a text from Mara.

Your heart sinks a little as you open it, Mom and Dad want us to go home at least once a month now. I guess they missed having us at home.

You let out a breath of air and rest your head back against the wall, taking a second to calm your racing heart before you reply, Sounds good to me.

You go to set your phone down but then you see the date.

Your heart starts to race again.

You quickly unlock your phone and go to your period tracker app and your heart falls into your stomach as the words in the circle read, PERIOD IS FOUR DAYS LATE.

“Oh shit.” You scramble to your feet, any feeling of sick being gone and now you were just freaking out. You wipe your forehead, washing your hands before walking as calmly as you can from the bathroom.

“I’m going to run to the store quick, pick up some juice or something, plus I need pads.” You lie, I just got my fucking period, too.”

She groans, trying not to laugh, “Oh shit, dude. Well you know what they say. Girls who hang around together a lot tend to sync cycles.”

“I blame you.” You squint your eyes, “Do you need anything?” She shakes her head, “Oh!” She holds up her fingers, “Grab me one of those coffee Starbucks frappe things.”

“Okay. Text me if you think of anything else.” You walk towards the door, grabbing your keys before you open it and leave.

You let out a shaky breath, trying not to cry as you go to your car. As soon as you get in and connect to the Bluetooth, Colby’s name appears on the screen of your car.

“Fuck. Okay.” You take a deep breath, hitting answer, “Hey, Colbs!”

You can tell he’s smiling through the phone, “What’s up, baby girl?”

You smile slightly and start driving, “I’m just running to the store, Jordan is sick so I’m going to get her some stuff. What’s are you up to?”

“Sam and I are just editing a new video and we took a break, so I figured I’d call you.” Colby yawns, “I’m so tired.”

Tired. Thats another thing you’ve been.

“I feel that. These last few weeks have been just a shit show at work.” You lie again.

You didn’t want to say anything until there was another line indicating that there was even anything that needed to be said.

“Anything in particular?” Colby asks and you sigh, “Just other people, you know.” You pull into the parking lot of the store and lean back, “You and Sam going on any new adventures soon?”

Colby chuckles, “Actually, okay. So I did have another reason to call you.”

You laugh, “What’s the first reason?”

Colby laughs, “Well, because I wanted to talk to you, hear your voice, obviously.” You laugh slightly and tilt your head, “Yeah. I needed to hear yours, too.”

“Aw how sweet.” Colby teases and you roll your eyes with a smile, “Anyway. Reason number two?”

“I talked to Sam and he thinks it’ll be a good idea if you do a video with us. Like a mini high school reunion special, Tayla can come too.” Colby says and you smile, “Yeah.” You say, totally ignoring your current situation, “I know I would and I’m sure Tayla wouldn’t say no to that.”

“Great. Great. I’ll talk to Sam and then I’ll keep you posted with the deats, yeah?”

“Sounds good, Colby.” You smile and hear Sam yelling in the background, “Hi, y/n!” You smile, “Hi Sam!”

“Alright. I’ll text you. Gotta get back to that grind.” Colby laughs, “Ya know?”

“I do. Have fun.” You smile and Colby scoffs, “I will now that you said to.”

You laugh, “Bye.”

“Bye.”

As soon as the car goes silent, tears well up in your eyes and you just start sobbing. Fuck these hormones, you think as you try to pull yourself together.

You take a few deep breaths and grab your bag and keys before walking in.

You managed to get in, grab a few things, the tests and get out. You cried the whole way home. No matter what you did, you couldn’t stop it.

Finally once you were home and in the driveway. You pulled it together, hoping you could hold it long enough.

You walk in, “Hey. I’m back.” You close the door and walk over to the counter, setting down the bags. You get the stuff out and grab the box of pads, “I’ll be back.”

You hand Jordan her drink as you walk by, avoiding eye contact because you couldn’t, not only answer, but handle a why are you crying question right now.

You sit down on the toilet, tossing the box to the floor before opening your purse. You stuffed the box with the tests in there as a way to keep your potential secret hidden from Jordan.

A few moments later, you set the stick down on the counter, covering it with the instructions because you couldn’t care to look.

You set a timer for three minutes, stopping it right before it goes off. You sit there for another second, feeling almost unable to look at it.

You muster up enough courage and pull the paper off, revealing a double lined answer.

It feels like hours pass by as you stare at the tiny oval shaped screen.

You blink, shaking your head as you pick it up, laughing in disbelief as you cover your mouth with your free hand.

You look around, eyes wide as you panic on what to do, “Mm. Fuck.” You set the test on your lap and grab your phone from the sink.

Your thumb hovers over the little phone icon, shaking like a scared Chihuahua, “Fuck.” You sigh and slowly bring your phone to your ear.

By the time your phone meets your ear, you hear Colby talking, “Hey, sweetheart.”

You break, taking in a choked sob, sniffling as you try and talk, “C-col-“ you cover your mouth, you don’t want to be loud enough go get Jordan’s attention.

The less people that know, the better.

You keep your eyes closed, listening to Colby’s soothing voice, “Hey, hey. Y/n.” You can tell he stands up and starts walking, Sam asks him where he’s going. He doesn’t answer him, he just keeps walking, “What’s going on, y/n?”

Your tear filled eyes are locked onto the two lines and you can’t bring yourself to say anything.

“Hey. If this is about us and what we’re doing I pr-“

You cut him off, “n-no. No.” You shake your head to yourself, “I-it’s not that.” You sniffle, looking up, “Um.”

“Whatever it is, I’m here for you.” Colby assures and you can’t help but laugh, still unable to believe that this is happening, even though it’s right here in front of you.

You were scared. Scared for what is going to be said about you from Mara. Tayla. Your parents.

You feel your heart rate pick up again and you close your eyes, trying to calm yourself down, but you just inevitably blurt it out, “I’m pregnant.”

It’s silent on both ends, at least for a few minutes before Colby breaks it, “Is it.. mine?”

“Yeah.” You breathe out, resting your elbow on the sink, hand on forehead, “Haven’t slept with anyone else since you.”

“Did you tell anyone else, sweetheart?”

You smile slightly as a tear falls down your cheek, “Mm. No.”

“Do you know how far along you are?” Colby’s voice is soft, gentle. He didn’t seem mad, but you felt like you needed to ask, “Probably like four or five weeks? They won’t get me in for an ultrasound until eight weeks.”

You take a brief pause, “Are you mad?”

“Mad?” He questions right away, “Why would I be mad? This is on me, too.” He chuckles slightly, “I mean, I knew I’d find you again, but I didn’t plan on having this happen right off the bat.”

“I was on birth control, I promise. I must have..” you groan quietly, “missed a pill.” You feel like you want to start crying again but Colby’s voice snaps you out of it, “Shit happens, Princess. We’ll get by. I promise, It’s okay.”

“I’ve been sitting here long enough, I think I’m going to take this other test, just to be sure.” You reach into the box and pull out the other test, unwrapping it before you set your phone and other test on the counter.

“I’m here, okay.” Colby reminds you, “I’m sorry you’re doing this alone.”

“It’s okay.” You whisper as you cap the test, setting it down, “Now we wait. Three minutes.”

After an almost quiet three minutes passes, you let out a sigh, “Okay.” You sit up, reaching for the test, already knowing what it’s about to read.

“Is it the same as the first?” Colby asks and you flip it over, taking in a sharp breath, “Yeah.”

“Okay I’m coming.”

“What?!” You lean forward, “Colby, you can’t what ab-“

“I told you. We will figure this out, and it just so happens that Sam and I have a place to investigate in Seattle, which just so happens to be where you’re living.”

“Mhm.” You smile slightly, “What a coincidence.”

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

Hi, hello. Sorry I haven’t been posting much. I’m currently working on giving each person their own masterlist and I have to make banners for each one and it’s just a process.

I hope this kind of made up for it. I love you all so much, thank you for reading and as always.. let me know what you thought of this!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

#samandcolby-ownme #smut warning #Colby Brock #Colby Brock smut #dirty colby brock #colby brock one shot #colby brock one shots #colby brock fluff #colby brock fanfic #colby brock dirty imagines #colby brock x reader #colby brock x reader smut #colby brock x you #colby brock x y/n #Colby Brock x y/n smut #pregnant!reader #xplr club #xplr #colby brock x pregnant!reader

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simp-ly-writes · 9 months

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Isn't it Obvious?

Ask: Astarion having a crush on an oblivious reader headcanons.

Pairing: Astarion Ancunin x Tav!Reader

Warnings: mentions of jealousy.

A/N: Sorry for the delay, exams are finally done AHHHH!! (now I just have to go to work lol). It's so relieving though- having so much more free time, especially to write- anyways! hope you all enjoy! :) (I am still figuring out how to write headcanons...)

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

↳ After the first, rather violent, meeting you both had at the start of your adventures. You chalked the parties vampire spawn's forwardness to him trying to be more friendly to you

↳ You were also quite the flirt of the group yourself- the sarcasm and playfulness of it was a driving factor to your sense of humor towards the camp

↳ Needless to say that if the opportunity arose to spark a comment- you were doing your best lighten the mood and your friends spirits when the world appears to be coming to an end as the team leader

↳ Astarion of course is jealous over the fact that no matter what, you flirted with everyone no matter how dire the situation, place or time. That was supposed to be his thing- or rather his thing with you...

↳ Whatever was this thing with you? Astarion always questions himself- why do you respond and make him blush so heavily against his pale skin, make him shuffle his ruffled collar, yet you never take that confidence of yours to take the next step- did you even want to take the next step- did you even know?

↳ These questions annoyed the vampires spawn so much so that he started to become quite the storm-cloud of the group. Scowl on his face and a bit more violent in battle than usual- almost as if to capture your attention

↳ Oh course he still flirted with you, claiming that the blush on your cheeks was merely a form of revenge to the strings played across his heart- or so he thought...

↳ You were overjoyed that Astarion was always willing to make a rebuttal against your words- it was nice to have someone lightening your day instead of always being the one to do it for everyone else. But that is just what you thought- he was just repaying the favour from the group, so you kept ignoring the growing feelings you had for the pale elf

↳ Eventually, Astarion has had enough of this toying over the line and becomes quite blunt with his flirtations- he uses pet-names in replace of your actual name almost everytime, sits beside you during communal dinners and fights back to back with you. He openly talks about all the night pleasures that could be offered- trying his best to find out what will make you finally understand

↳ Yet you just smile widely, make a joke comment in response before trying someone else from the group into conversation as the elf sighs out dramatically and storms away

↳ You were beginning to grow confused and increasingly worried about Astarions apparent annoyance towards you. The jokes that bonded the two of you throughout your travels were becoming lesser as were the parties willingness to hear your jokes towards them as well- you were despreate to find answers now

↳ Everyone in the camp was sick of your antics, they ended up refusing to respond to your flirtatious comments after receiving the ever-growing glares and side comments from the vampire spawn- they were tired of your cat-and-mouse game

↳ So one night Shadowheart and Wyll have pulled you into a tent and said that you were going on a date (much to your confusion) as they hurriedly prepared you and practically threw you back out

↳ You notice Astarion staring at you in what appeared to be shock as you ask who your date was and made a flirtatious (joking) comment that if that date was him

↳ The shocked face that you pull in return when he laughs loudly into the night sky only to look back and replay with a dramatic yes, yet you feel overwhelmingly relieved as does Astarion when you accept to go out together

↳ "I hope you know, my love..." Astarion trails off as you both are walking back from your date, smiles across both of your faces in the moonlight

↳ "I know- or well now I do" you finish his sentence as he laughs at your reply and you can't help but laugh at your past self as well

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juletheghoul · 1 month

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Let Me Follow (Part 7)

AN: Ooop. I haven't updated this in a year and I feel terrible, I am trying to go through all of the unfinished fics I have, and update one every week. (dream big Jules) Hopefully get through all of the things I have in my head. Hopefully it's been worth the wait! I've done my best to edit this myself, but it hasn't been beta'd. Enjoy! xo 🩷

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.8K

Warnings: (18+ NO MINORS) ANGST, language, age-gap (about 10-11 years, legal, reader is of age), Yearning, post-apocalyptic world, Joels injury / ptsd / nightmare

Let me know if I missed anything!

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist Series Masterlist

He’s gone when you wake up. Both of them are, they’re gone most of the day but it makes sense. You chalk it up to Joel catching up with his brother and Ellie taking advantage of the safety of this place. You, in turn, find yourself almost haunting the house Maria and Tommy had put you up in. The time spent in the trailer, although quiet for the most part, was also wrapped up in the web of anxiety. Every second spent there was corrupted with fear of someone finding it, always the danger of infected wandering into the woods and surprising you when you’d go scavenging, and in comparison to that, this felt peaceful.

This house gave you a chance to rest, to nap and enjoy the safety of the walls surrounding you, surrounding the town itself. Even when you got hungry, it was only a matter of making your way down the street to the cafeteria. People looked at you with curiosity, but didn’t pry, which only inspired intense gratitude.

The whole day was a much needed respite from the worry and anxiety, until Ellie stormed into the house to find you reading an old novel on the sofa late in the evening. Anger burning on her face and it seemed strange to be so angry in a place like this.

“What happened?” The adrenaline shoots up, the familiarity of it is so depressing, it seems your body is always ready to feel this way.

“He’s leaving me.” She runs up the stairs and you find yourself running up after her, the door to the bedroom she’d claimed all but shut in your face before you could follow her inside.

“Ellie? Can I come in?” You knock, hoping she’ll elaborate, “Ellie?”

“Whatever.” She calls out and you follow her inside, finding her sitting on a dusty bay window.

“What happened?” Your heart races but you do your best to control your breathing.

“He’s leaving me,” she sighs, picking up what looks to be someone's journal, “I heard him tell Tommy, that he has to leave me.” You frown at her. Joel hadn’t exactly been the cuddly type but he did care about Ellie, that had been obvious to you. “Maria told me something about him, something that makes sense-”

“I wouldn’t listen to what Maria has to say about Joel, it seems to me she’s been listening to Tommy say some not-so-nice things about his brother.” Annoyance burns brightly in your gut that she’d dare poison Ellie against the man that had been keeping her safe.

“No–I didn’t let her talk shit, I told her where to fucking go about that but–” A soft tap on the door pulls you out of the argument, Joel’s voice coming through before he opens the door.

The familiar ‘Joel-frown’ is back in place as his gaze shifts from Ellie, to you, and back to her again.

“Listen-” He starts, but she doesn’t let him get very far.

“Why are you here?” The anger still burns on her face, but you know what’s really there. Sadness, fear, disappointment, you know because you’ve felt it all before.

“I came here to talk to you, both of you.”

“No, why are you still here? If you’re gonna ditch us then ditch us.” her eyes cast down as she speaks, looking without really seeing the journal in her hands. You see him let out a heavy sigh, resignation taking over.

“What exactly did you hear?”

“‘I have to leave her, you have to take her’,” your eyebrows must have raised up into your hairline, Joel leaving Ellie had never crossed your mind, “You know I stuck up for you today because I thought-” She bit her lip, cutting off her own words.

“I made this decision for your own good. You’ll be way better off with Tommy, he knows the area better than I do-” He was floundering and it was as though you were listening to a stranger, his whole demeanour completely different from last night.

“Do you give a shit about me or not?” Her voice rose, and your heart broke for her.

“Of course I do.”

“Then what are you so afraid of? I’m not her, you know? Maria told me about Sarah-”

“Don’t.” The change in him was chilling, “Don’t say another word.” Seeing his eyes shift, the whole of him as cold as ice.

“I’m sorry about your daughter, Joel, but I have lost people too.” And there it was.

He’d had a daughter, and he’d lost her. This was it, the missing piece. It made so much sense, the cloud that followed him around, the loss that poisoned him to the world. It wasn’t just the terrible, awful, practically unbearable state of the world, it was his loss.

“You have no idea what loss is.” His eyes hardened even more, and you understood why he would be upset. The loss of a child would definitely make anyone lose their minds, but Ellie wasn’t wrong. Everyone in this world knows what loss is.

“Everybody I have cared for has either died or left me. Everybody, fucking except for you!” She pushes him, her anger and hurt getting the best of her and you can’t help but move from your place on the couch to comfort her. “So don't tell me that I'd be safer with somebody else because the truth is I would just be more scared.” Your hand goes to her shoulder, letting her know you’re there for her.

“You’re right. You aren’t my daughter, and I sure as hell ain’t your dad. Now come dawn, you and I go our separate ways-” Your hand flashes up without your permission, and cracks him clean across the face. It was too much for you to bear.

“Enough! I am so sick and tired of this, and I am through with letting you act this way. You can’t keep living your life like this, Joel. Head down, barreling through like a juggernaut, cutting through everyone and everything, completely closed off to the world.” The hurt was sharp in your voice- “I can’t even begin to imagine how much losing your daughter must have hurt you, I wish it had never happened. I cannot take it away from you, neither of us can but we don’t deserve for you to treat us this way. Losing her doesn’t mean you can throw Ellie away.” His eyes flashed with something, a hurt so deep it was part of him, “Tomorrow, we’re going–whether it’s with you, or Tommy is up to you.” You turned from him then, gathering Ellie into your arms. You heard the door click, and then you and Ellie were alone.

You spent the night with Ellie.

A soft knock sounded as you gathered the few things you had to take with you, both of you. Ellie opened the door to a very resigned Tommy standing at the door.

“Y’all ready?” He spoke to both of you, the look on your face leaving no doubt as to whether Ellie would go alone or not.

“Yes, we’re good to go,” you reply and he nods once before leading the way out, “Come on Ellie.” You don’t look at the room across the hall, even as the outline of the door burns bright in your peripheral. That it was closed and he was probably asleep inside only filled your stomach with rocks, so you keep your eyes forward and ignore the feeling.

The morning is crisp enough to see your breath and it wreaths around your head like a halo as you all make your way towards the barn. Your anger with Joel is a simmering pot on the back burner, and that’s where it has to stay, there’s too much to focus on with Ellie to give it any attention. Tommy leads the way, bundled up with a rifle on his back and the anger you’re trying to tamp down finds its bullseye.

“How much shit did you talk about Joel, Tommy? Be honest.” He turns, his brow furrowed, “Must have been a lot, with the way Maria was eyeing him.”

“Yeah, not to mention giving me some bullshit warning about him not being who I thought he was.” Ellie chimes in, he lets out a deep sigh.

“You don’t understand, we did terrible things-“

“Yes, both of you, and you got to explain yourself. You’re letting your grievances with your brother colour the way people in this town view him. If he stays here, you’ve just made his life harder when you both did the same shit.” You round the corner, ducking into the barn to find the man you’re discussing, loading the horse's saddle with what looked to be supplies. You’re angry at him, at the cruel words he threw at Ellie, at the thought that after all of your confessions he might have let you go. It’s hard not to feel relief that he’s here though, ready to follow her, ready to follow you.

“You came here to say goodbye or something?” Ellie’s voice is neutral, but the hurt simmers under the surface.

“No, I came here to steal one of these horses.” He kicks at the ground, nervous.

“I woulda gave you one.” Tommy sighs, his frown still in place but now directed at Joel.

“I know. Anyway, that was thirty minutes ago, and I guess you deserve a choice. I still think you’d be better off with Tommy-“

“Let’s go.” She tosses her bag at him. Your lip curls without your permission, but you keep it to yourself.

“Okay.” He grunts out the word, but you can see he’s just as affected as you are. He turns, and speaks to Tommy while you and Ellie lead the horses out, letting them have a moment.

“You okay?” Ellie’s eyes find yours at the sound of your words, and for a moment you see her age and it breaks your heart. Her eyes are wide, dark shadows underneath them, all of the stress and the weight of her lot in this life painted across her face, and still she smiles.

“Fuck yeah, all good.”

God, she’s just a kid.

“Let’s get going.” Joel comes out, Tommy’s rifle on his back and his eyes are wild, darting between you and Ellie. His words still ring out in your ears, but so does the knowledge of his loss. It’s the Rosetta Stone, the why of all of his anger and hurt and reluctance to open up to anyone and anything coming into focus.

There are two horses, and Ellie claims one right away, leaving you to share with Joel. He climbs up and swings his leg around, then holds out his hand to help you climb on, and wordlessly you take it. The horse is calm underneath you, for which you are grateful, even when you climb up, much less graceful than Joel and sit tucked into his back.

The anger in you still burns bright. Too bright to say anything to him just yet, so you let it wash over you. Ignore the happy chant to have him there, to have his familiar, safe shape solid in front of you, and focus on not spooking the animal beneath you.

Hours pass with small talk between Ellie and Joel, and silence from you. He doesn’t press, but his voice sounds lighter than it ever has with her. You let them have this conversation and bonding and you keep your mouth shut. He tests the waters though, your arms wrap around his waist, and every so often you feel him squeeze your hand or your knee. A silent olive branch, a request for connection and as much as you try to hold out and ignore him, punish him for his cruelty, you cannot help but give in. You press your lips to the little bit of skin exposed at the back of his neck. You can feel the way he melts, and part of you feels guilty for denying him for so long, but then his words come back and so does the anger.

Ellie has gone ahead, just a little bit, close enough that he can keep an eye on her, but far enough away that he tries his luck with words.

“It was bad wasn’t it?” He speaks over his shoulder, his words heavy with resignation.

“Real bad.”

He sighs, but says nothing else. You don’t expect an apology, and you don’t get one. It’s there though, the remorse, in his voice, threaded through the soft words and explanations he gives Ellie as the day goes by. He speaks to her of his life before, and it’s a marvel to hear him speak so much, he used to be a contractor. The shape of the word in your mouth feels familiar, one of those words adults used to say but there’s no reference for it in your memory. She is happy, that is all that matters.

When you stop to camp, it’s in a densely populated forest, eerily quiet but good enough. The land is far enough away from any QZ to be free of infected, but they aren’t the biggest worry. He sets up camp, a couple of sleeping bags all piled together.

“Sleep, both of you, I’ll take first watch.” It doesn’t take much convincing on your part, and for once, Ellie doesn’t grumble, she yawns hard enough to tremble and gets into the sleeping bag without comment. You want to give him something, a promise that you’ll discuss what you both know you need to discuss but he shakes his head when your eyes meet. “Sleep, Sunny, you need your rest.”

You nod, and sleep claims you, quick as falling.

You wake with a gasp.

“You’re okay.” He’s sitting on a fallen log, watching the surrounding darkness. Full consciousness creeps in, and awareness calms the anxiety of whatever nightmare that had spilled over. Even the horses are calm, no immediate danger threatening, but there’s no way you’re going back to sleep.

“I’m up now. Here, give me the gun, you should get some shut-eye.” You stretch for a moment, before getting up. At this point, he knows you better than to argue, and so as much as he wants to keep watch, he gets up with a groan, and climbs into the sleeping bag still permeated with your body heat. The brief spark of warmth and comfort that was born of your new found intimacy with him, although still there, is obscured by the things you know you need to discuss, but it won’t be tonight. He knows it too, and so you keep watch, and when the morning comes, you all set out again.

Days pass, and you travel in peace. The days are cold but clear, and he surprises you even more. He teaches Ellie to shoot, instructs her on how to load and reload the rifle, how to aim and even lets her keep a pistol and you can see the father so clearly in him. He notices your quiet withdrawal, and he lets you have your silence, but it doesn’t last.

Three nights into your trek, he finally breaks the silence.

You feel him slip into the sleeping bag behind you, the night is colder than you expected and his warmth is welcome, even if your heart is still hurt. You’d found a small copse of trees, hidden enough that you could all sleep relatively calmly.

“Sunny.” It’s just above a whisper, “How long you gonna punish me?” His breath tickles the little hairs at the back of your neck, raising goosebumps in its wake. You sigh.

“I’m not punishing you Joel.” His hand slips around your waist.

“You’re angry at me, I can feel it.” He presses his lips to the skin just below your ear, soft and sweet and your eyes close at the feel of it, you turn towards him.

“I’m hurt,” he pulls you close enough to tangle his legs with yours, “Not just for what you said to Ellie, but for what happened to you.” You felt the clench in his jaw, felt how his body tensed. “I’m not trying to pry into your past Joel, I don’t want to open old wounds and make you relive anything, but I’ve been with the two of you long enough to see the bond. That girl-” you gestured to Ellie’s sleeping form near the horses, “-sees you as a father. You’re all she has, and you were ready to drop her.”

“I know.” He pressed his forehead to yours, the tension going out of him like a balloon deflating. “It’s why I didn’t think I could do this, I am scared that I won’t be able to protect her, if she got hurt on my watch I couldn’t forgive myself.” All of a sudden you felt stupid, his anger and lashing out at her was a way to protect her, it didn’t excuse it, but it definitely explained it. “I don’t think she heard my whole conversation with Tommy, I was tellin’ him how scared I am.”

“She needs you around, she needs to know you aren’t going to abandon her.” You can’t help but bring your hands to his face, comfort him. “We need you, I need you, I don’t want you to leave me behind either.” The little part of yourself that you’d been stomping down reared its head. “I’m sorry I slapped you, I shouldn’t have done that.” He shakes his head, dismissing your apology.

“I won’t leave you behind. I meant it when I said I needed you to be patient with me.” He presses his lips to your hand, then to your lips, an apology and a promise and you clutch to it, despite the fear that permeates every aspect of the world. You don’t say anything more, trusting that when he's ready, he’ll tell you about his loss.

The university is a massive, rundown building, eerily quiet, without many signs of life.

“No fireflies.” Ellie points out when you stop just in front of an overturned car.

“Probably in the middle, safer.” Joel leads the way, and the three of you continue throughout the grounds. He answers Ellie’s questions about University life, about anything and everything she can think of while you focus on your surroundings. The quiet irks you.

Monkeys roam the campus the closer you get to the building, and she’s excited to see them, you’re a little more wary but they scatter at the sound of you approaching.

“Lookit.” He points to a sign, a bright firefly symbol spray-painted onto it.

“Here we go.” She sounds a lot braver than she looks, her expression matches yours. This whole place was creepy, and your stomach roiled the closer you got to the entrance of the building. The sound of the horses' hooves clicking onto the pavement echo around you as you approach, guard houses sit unmanned just outside the door, and your stomach drops further.

“Guard houses.” Joel voices your thoughts.

“No guards.” You reply, and the mood sours further. “Let’s tie the horses, and continue on foot.” You gesture to a tree and they both nod in agreement. With them taken care of, you make your way inside.

“Gun?” Ellie looks to Joel, and he nods, she takes out the pistol he’d trusted her with, his rifle at the ready and you follow close behind him, no weapon, but eyes sharp.

The inside is abandoned, but there is a mess of tables, discarded equipment and supplies left behind.

“There were definitely doctors here.” She rifles through a stack of old gauze, gloves and other things littering the tables, pulling a list from under an empty box.

“This is a packing list,” Joel takes the list from her, “Something you make before moving.” There’s a distinct lack of dust and dirt blown in on the mess left behind you cannot help but focus on.

“Looks like they just left-” Something crashes above, movement in one of the higher floors interrupting your sentence, “maybe not all of them.” You move as one, slowly and quietly following the source of the noise, your heart races, scared of who or what you might find here. Joel leads the way, his rifle at the ready, Ellie brings up the rear, gun in her hands and pointed down like he’d taught her. The place looks more like an abandoned hospital than a school. There are carts knocked over, hospital beds and IV bags still hooked up to the poles littering the hallways.

He counts down silently, hand just hovering over the door containing the source, and then opens it. A monkey shrieks, and seeing you jumps out the open window. You let out a heavy breath.

“Well, at least it ain’t clickers.” Joel’s tone is as relieved as you feel.

“Yeah, no fireflies either. Maybe in all that research they turned into fucking monkeys!” He frowns at her, there’s a disappointment heavy in the air. So much travelling, just to come up empty. There’s a giant map in the middle of the room though. You make your way over to it, there are different colour pins all leading up to one place, Salt Lake City, Utah.

“That’s where they went?” She’s staring at the map beside you.

“All the pins lead there.” You press your finger to the spot on the map, Joel is beside you, all three of you studying it.

“Maybe they were getting ahead of the weather? Better facilities? I don’t know.” He frowns, letting out a breath but you hear it, people talking outside the window. You shush them, gesturing to the window but they hear it now too. Your heart jackhammers in your chest, any and all peace you’d found from finding this place empty is gone.

Quietly you all move closer and peek out the window, and see four men walking past, they hold crowbars, and baseball bats and it’s obvious they’re raiders.

“Out the back.” Joel whispers, and then the three of you take off. Within a few tense minutes, you’re all back outside, ducking behind piled up sandbags to make sure you don’t encounter anyone. With the coast clear, you all run towards the horses. Ellie climbs up onto hers, and you climb onto the one you share with Joel while he unties them.

“Joel!” Ellie screams, one man has followed, baseball bat high in the air but Joel turns in time and ducks out of the way, the bat swings hard, hitting the tree and shatters. Ellie holds up her arm, aiming the gun but they move too erratically.

“Wait Ellie! You might shoot Joel–” She puts it down, he doesn’t need help, they grapple and slam against the tree but then Joel has wrapped his arm around the man's neck, and with a sickening crunch, he falls. When Joel turns, your stomach drops.

He looks down, and the butt of the broken bat is sticking out of his lower abdomen. He takes a deep breath, and pulls it out and a wave of nausea hits you to see at least three inches of wood come out, his blood pulsing between his fingers.

“Joel–get on the horse!” You scream out to him, seeing the others spotting you and running full speed. He struggles, but climbs up with a pained yell, swinging his leg over and managing to get in front of you.

“Get back!” Ellie follows behind, shooting at them when they get too close, with the frosty wind whipping at your face you get away. The horses gallop across the grounds and away, your grip on Joel is iron.

You know that going so fast is only hurting him but you have to get far enough away that they won’t follow.

“They don’t seem to be following us, I think we’re safe.” Ellie calls out behind you and you’re glad she’s keeping an eye on your back, because you cannot focus on anything other than Joel’s weakening grip on the reins.

“Joely, baby you have to hold on, please–” He teeters, swaying like a boat in choppy waters and you feel the way he cannot hold himself up anymore. “Joel-Joel!” He topples off the horse and into a pile of snow despite your best efforts, he's so pale you can barely contain the tears that flow freely down your face. “Joel, please, please wake up, we need you to wake up.” You slap at his face, but he doesn’t stir. Ellie is off her horse and kneeling beside you, trying to aid in waking him but she’s as unsuccessful as you are. She presses his hands as well as hers to where the blood pulses out of him slowly.

“Joel, open your eyes.” You stare at him while she speaks, pressing your hand to his face, “I can’t fucking do this without you, I don’t know where the fuck I’m going, or what the fuck I’m going to do, we need you Joel please, get up.” Tears stream down her face and it hits you then. You’ve cursed him, this is what comes from loving another person.

There’s no time, you have to move him.

“Let’s get him somewhere safe, Ellie, one of those houses.” You gesture to a residential area not far from where he fell. There’s no way you can carry him, instead you look for something to put him on that you can drag like a sled. You send Ellie to look, warning her to be careful and to keep her gun out and she comes back with a wide mat, almost like a big dog bed and it’s perfect. You shuffle him onto it, and tie the mat to the back of one of the horses, pulling him towards one of the houses.

It takes so long to get him into the basement. By the time you’ve piled a stained mattress and musty blankets and laid him on it, your skin is slick with frozen sweat, your breath comes out in pants, exhausted with the effort. There had been an old towel in one of the bathrooms of the house, Ellie had grabbed it while you wrestled him to where he lay. Once settled, you ripped it up, and moved his shirt to press it to the wound, barely looking at it. You had to stop the bleeding, if he kept bleeding he’d die.

“What are we going to do?” She watches, terrified.

“I don’t know.” You want to comfort her, but you cannot stop swallowing the lump in your throat. You both stay quiet for a while after that, focused on his breathing.

It’s because I love him

The thought squeezes your heart like a vice, the curse of you fills your head, overtaking every thought. This is what happens when you love another person, the black hole has taken him just like it took your parents, just like it took Johnny and there is nothing to be gained but misery and heartache. The black pit of your love is full of emptiness and all you’d done was sentence him to death. You should have just let them leave, given them your supplies and stayed in your trailer.

Tears stream steadily down your face, hoping against hope that he’ll wake up, that the wound will close, that nothing inside had been too badly damaged. You hoped you’d wake up back in that bed in Jackson, that this was all just some horrible nightmare and that he’d be there, rubbing your back. You didn’t wake up though, and he lay there motionless while you cried, breathing shallow enough to fill your stomach with nothing but dread and nausea and regret and every other horrible thing you��ve felt since this world went to shit.

You move the towel after a while, to see how bad the damage actually is and your body tenses, it’s angry and red and still blood pulses out, his skin shredded where the sharp wood had pierced him.

“We need to close it, we should see if we can find a needle and thread.” You speak to her, but she watches him, his eyes are open, and there is nothing but naked fear in them. He groans and grabs at your arm hard enough to bruise when you press the towel back to the wound.

“Go.” He grits it out, at both of you. She puts her hands on yours, helping to staunch the blood. “Go, leave, take the gun.” He repeats it.

“Shut up, shut the fuck up Joel!” She all but screams at him but he grabs her by the jacket, pulling her close.

“You go.” He doesn’t relent, “You go. You go north, go to tommy.” He shivers, speaking the words clearly and when he pushes her back, she stumbles, staring at him in disbelief. His eyes find yours, and he repeats himself. “Leave.” He does not expect to survive, and all at once you are angry with him, angry with yourself for ever having opened your heart, angry at the world for your lot in life. His eyes find yours then, tears slowly streaming from them, the same anger burning in your chest shining out through his eyes.

You wipe at your eyes, and rise. Leaving him there, as you make your way up the stairs, and out of the basement.

She catches up to you in the kitchen.

“Are we really leaving him?”

“No. I’m looking for something to stitch him up, but if you want to go find Tommy I won’t stop you, you can shoot, and he’s taught you how to keep watch and find safe places to sleep. You can take all of the supplies–” You open cupboards, pulling them off the hinges in your haste and spilling drawers in the pursuit of something, anything to help him.

“I’m not leaving either.” She moves, and helps you search.

—

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #the last of us #joelyyyy #tlou #the last of us fanfiction #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel x reader #joel x you #joel x y/n

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dizscreams · 1 year

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Hii hii can I request a Jack Champion × actress reader where they react on some edits Abt the two of them in an interview and then one ship edit Abt them came out thank you so much

++ I luv your writing so much some times I go overboard by liking all of them sorry Abt that Have a great day/night

ur so sweet anon ty :( <3 I hope I understood this right 😭

Mesmerized — Jack Champion ★

PAIRING: Jack Champion x gn!reader

TAGS: @beary-rambles @ashlesys-blog @wekiamo @wenvierismycomfort @aesthetixhoe @mbankfav @aqellano @dizzyscreams @c8rdigan @teyamsgirll @evanpeterswifeyy868

A/N: he’s so bf like he’s literallyy my bf?! I love my bf!! bf!! he’s so this song!!

The producers for the interview you were doing didn’t tell you what the interview would be about. Both you and Jack just assumed it was a normal interview until you had to do the intro for the video. ‘Action!’

You wave, “Hi I’m y/n l/n!” Jack follows you and waves as well, “And I’m Jack Champion.” You both share a smile before quickly looking back at the camera, “And today we are going to be reacting to edits of ourselves.” Jacks eyes widen a bit before nodding slightly, “Lets do it.” “Lets do it,” you repeat.

Someone gives you a phone and tells you all you need to do is scroll and give commentary. “Jack, do you ever look at edits of yourself?” You ask him before clicking on the first video, you pause it before it starts to hear Jacks answer. “Uhh sometimes,” he laughs, “When I’m bored, or they’ll randomly appear on my for you page. What about you?” You smile a bit, “Same here. I also get tagged in a lot of them.” “Oohh yeah me too.”

“Shall we start?” You ask shaking the phone a little.

“We shall,” Jack responds with finger guns. You chuckle and start the first video, it’s an edit of Jack. It was of his Scream 6 character, Ethan Landry. Jack was blushing slightly when you had looked over at him. You giggled when the video ended, “Soo what’d you think?” He giggled with you, “People are really talented. I will say though I wasn’t expecting so many people to love Ethan. Especially because of.. the movie,” he said slowly.

You hum, “The movies been out a while I think you can say it.” He looks at you and then back at the camera, “I didn’t expect many people to love my character in Scream 6 because he’s a psychopathic murderer who chases people in a Ghostface mask,” He says in an accent and claps his hands together. You cover your mouth with your hand as you laugh. “Alright let’s move on, next!” Jack says smiling.

“Okay, here you can take the phone this time,” you tell him handing the phone to him. He takes it and scrolls down to the next edit, “I think it’s of you,” he whisper yells. You recognize the clip used as one in an interview you did only about a week ago. Jack looked at the video and then looked back at you while grinning. He seemed to be enjoying this a little too much, but you didn’t mind.

“Aw I liked that one,” you spoke up first.

“Me too,” Jack says as he stared at you. He liked the outfit you chose to wear today, he always admired your sense of style. He also liked the way you did your hair, it framed your face nicely. “Jack?” He cleared his throat, “Yeah? What?” You let out a confused laugh, “Were you listening?” His face turned red at the question, “uhhh-” You shake your head with a smile, “It’s okay, next edit!” You stick out your hand, signaling for him to give you the phone and he just looks at it.

You shake your hand and nod towards the phone a bit trying to be more clear and he tilts his head. You look at him and he looks like a lost puppy with his big brown eyes boring into yours. You smile a bit and lower your voice, “The phone, Jack.” “OH! Right yeah here,” he stumbles over his words as he hands you the phone. The light pink blush dusting his cheeks once again making him look even cuter than before.

“Okay and here we go,” you mutter. The video plays and at first it’s clips of Jack, you can recognize where some of the clips are from. A lot of them are from Avatar interviews, which makes sense. But then there’s clips of you and that causes your eyebrows to knit together slightly. Just a friendly edit, you presumed, but at the end of the video there’s a clip of you and Jack together.

It’s a clip from a little behind the scenes of Scream 6. The small moment was of Jack putting his arm around you while you were both in the backseat of a bus going to set that day. You smiled at the memory and the video came to an end, “That was cute.” He nodded in agreement, he had the same stupid smile on his face, “Yeah.” You took a peak at the comments, all of them were ship comments.

“They’d be so cute together!”

“Are we sure they aren’t dating?”

“The way they look at each other 🥹”

“I WANT WHAT THEY HAVE”

“There’s no way they aren’t dating”

Your smile got bigger and you handed Jack the phone with a quiet, “Your turn.”

The interview went on for a couple more minutes until they were satisfied with the length that the video would be. Then, it was time for the outro. “I’m y/n l/n,” Jack said and you followed his lead, “And I’m Jack Champion.”

“And you’re watching Disney Channel!”

“That’s not it, Jack-“

“And you’re watching Buzzfeed Celeb!”

“There you go. Thank you so much for watching..”

“And make sure to leave a like for more content like this,” he said finishing your sentence in a British accent.

“Cut! That was great, guys.”

You looked at Jack only to find him already looking at you, “You wanna go get lunch?” He asked already standing. “Of course.” You guys made your way out of the filming room and he made sure nobody was looking before he grabbed your hand, giving it a kiss,

“You don’t know how hard it was for me to stay quiet about our relationship. You looked so good, I just wanted to brag about how you were mine the whole time,” he said while pulling you in for a hug. You giggling and wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a quick kiss, “We’ll tell them soon, babe.”

#dizzy writes?! 😵‍💫#I LOVE THISSS #jack champion #jack champion x reader #scream 6 #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader

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scara-meow-che · 2 years

Text

then they were roommates ┃ sweet deception with thoma

CW. NSFW (MDNI), afab! reader with no set of pronouns, roommate! thoma, use of sedatives, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it!), pervert! thoma, noncon, he takes pics of you, male masturbation, pervert and a bit ooc thoma ♥︎

AN. another reposted work. i promise that i'd be posting new ones soon <3 just a little more from my part on actually editing the drafts that i have here but anyway, enjoy our ooc pervert, roomie thoma!

thoma is the sweetest roommate you’d ever ask for!

besides the fact that he constantly reminds you of the tasks you have absentmindedly forgotten or prepares breakfast in the morning, he also helps you with your projects whenever he has some time to spare.

you also want to take note of the tea he always makes!

“hey thoma! you haven’t told me what brand this tea is.”

the weekend had just arrived and you were left sprawled in the comforts of your blankets while watching another rom-com with thoma. he was laid adjacent to your side, the two loveseats occupied by your tired bodies.

“silly, how many times do i need to tell you that i handmade this! you can help me pick up the ingredients tomorrow morning if you want,” thoma offers with a smile. he can see how you immediately perked up in interest, nodding your head in agreement. “well, just make sure that you sleep early now since i often leave around 5.”

and he hears you grunt afterward.

“come on now, you wouldn’t miss an opportunity like this, yeah?” he encourages you, standing up from his seat. he eyes you, taking a huge sip of your tea before dropping down the cup on the nearby table. he shudders, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips before he reaches out both his hands to help you stand up.

as you do, you can feel your body slipping into a relaxed state, almost stumbling and falling back into the seat. but thoma was fast and had an arm wrapped around your body, gently cradling you in his warmth.

“easy now,” he mumbles. it felt quite nice to be wrapped in his embrace as the nature of his being caring seeps through while he guides you to your room. “getting sleepy now, aren’t you?”

you hummed, feeling the softness of your blanket caressing your skin as thoma gently lays you down on your bed. as each second passes by, you find your eyes can barely keep themselves open. and before you were consumed by sleep, you can hear the faint whisper from your roommate, a sweet smile etched on his face.

“sweet dreams f/n.”

it was truly sweet, thoma had always been like this every day and you barely notice the patterns. he is someone so kind, dependable, selfless, and caring so you trust him. there’s never a reason to doubt him, not when he had you gullible just as he wanted to.

don’t get him wrong but thoma genuinely cares for you. he likes you, a lot. but the intensity of his emotions quickly becomes too much for him to handle. you were so pretty, so perfect in his eyes that he can’t help but give you what he thinks you’d want, what you’d like, what you’d find worthy of your affection.

but he thinks that fucking you when you’re asleep is something you wouldn’t approve of.

when he sees the steady motion of your chest, lungs pumping air in and out of your relaxed and vulnerable state, he’s quick to adjust your body, letting you lie flat on your back and your legs pressed on each side. you’ve always looked beautiful to him, no matter what you wear, no matter how unkempt your hair was.

and he finds you most beautiful spread out like this for him to take. an angel you are in his eyes.

he groans when he feels his cock ache inside his tight pants. you’re just that perfect, fuck, he’s so damn lucky that he’s the one who gets to share this apartment space with you and not just a random bastard who wouldn’t treat you like he does.

he just hope you wouldn’t find out the debauched person he can be.

thoma wants to put all the blame on you. you should be held accountable for how adorable you are, and how your beaming eyes always had him hooked whenever you tell him what happened in uni. you should know that he’s utterly smitten from how much you cling to him, trusting him to the point where you don’t even notice that the tea he makes was the very reason why he had you pressed down like this.

of course, he wouldn’t dare hurt you. he’s not an asshole who just takes advantage of you like this and ends up hurting you in any way or form. thoma would spend the time preparing you, holding you, and pleasing you before he could even please himself.

as he had your legs spread open, he would gently remove your pants, revealing you in your underwear. he finds it cute how you wear this particular pair every weekend, the soft pastel red cotton undies he always love!

then he would notice how you’d shiver, feeling the cold gust of wind welcoming your flushed skin. thoma would cover you up with the blanket he made for you, smiling as he remembers how you were elated to receive this from him.

as he provides you a source of warmth, he would continue and leave kisses on your thighs, his large hands pressing down to spread your legs wider. he dares not leave any hickeys, as much as his mind tells him to mark you already. he can do that later when you’re finally sober enough to know what the hell he’s doing.

after leaving feather-like kisses on both your thighs, thoma would press two of his fingers between your clothed cunt, sliding up and down your slit. he can hear the gentle hums of satisfaction escaping your lips.

“even when you’re in deep sleep, you’ve always loved being pleasured like this, huh?” he whispers, putting in some pressure that the tip of his finger glides down your clit. “we wouldn’t want to mess this though,” he adds before he hooks two of his fingers to the band of your underwear and slowly pulls it off your body.

with your lower half exposed for his eyes to feast on, thoma almost came at the sight of your cunt slightly shimmering from your slick. he curses under his breath, impatient because he just wants to shove his cock but had put an immense focus so to mentally stops himself.

before he even loses control, he moves his head down and has his lips close in your cunt. he hums, satisfied, tasting you as his tongue laps up and down your clit. he can finally taste you, so sweet against the sensitive flesh of his mouth. you were addicting, thoma can’t help but give your pussy lips a kiss before he had his whole mouth sucking on your poor cunt.

he felt your thighs occassionally close back from the sensation, your eyebrows furrowing that your sleep-induced state tries to focus on the pleasurable feeling you’re receiving between your legs.

“you’re so damn cute,” thoma mutters before he goes back on assaulting your sensitive clit. he wants to hear you moan, to hear you whimper about how good he’s treating you, how good he was on eating you out, on pleasing you but that can wait.

after flicking his tongue on your sensitive nub, he had two fingers slowly pumping in and out of your hole. you were so wet, so ready for him to take but he wants to make you cum first. thoma goes back on sucking on your clit as his fingers smoothly go in and out of your hole, adjusting it to reach the most sensitive spot inside that he knew by heart. you were so warm, so tight around two of his digits.

the pleasure he gets from fucking you like this had him rutting his hips down the bed, cock itching to shove itself inside your warmth and have your tight walls snuggle it closer. his pants' already ruined from his pre. he groans as he does so, eyes peering up to witness how your back softly arched from the vibrations he had let go on your clit. thoma can feel how close you are, your warm walls sucking him in with fervor.

“that’s it f/n. go on, cum for me,” he says even if you won’t even hear him or know that it was him pleasuring you like this. your walls clamped on his fingers, your hole gushing out so much slick as thoma didn’t stop sliding his digits in and out to ride your high.

your body was still shaking a bit from the aftermath of your orgasm when thoma swiftly moved up and pulled his hard and aching cock out of his already-ruined pants. he hissed as the warmth of his hands made contact with his skin, quickly rubbing the bulbous head on your cunt to relieve himself from the pain.

“‘want you so badly, f/n, just let me—” slowly, he pushes himself inside your walls, grunting at the sudden tightness engulfing him. he eyes your body, those emerald hues watching every twitch of your eyebrow and how your chest lets go of a shaky breath as he finally pushes all the way in. “fuck, you feel so good around me.”

thoma’s head was spinning at the view he’s getting of you even more when he looks down to where you’re both connected. his long girth feels just perfect to be inside you, smoothly sliding in and out. hell, he wanted to roughly bend you in half and shove himself as deep as he could but you might wake up. he doesn’t want that but fuck, you’re making it so hard for him.

in seconds, he rocks his hips against your body, his thighs softly smacking against your butt as he slowly ruts himself in your core. thoma bites down on his lips, focusing on being gentle while getting the most out of your cunt. he closes his eyes, savoring how your walls sucks him in, tightening every time he bottoms out. he was so big yet he had managed to have you adjust to his size perfectly, molding you to have his cock alone.

he was close, the pleasure so intense on bis lower half he had somehow let go of his focus and started a rather quick pace in fucking you. he hears you whimpering, his mind thinking that you’re awake and was ushering him to go faster, that you’re close too, that you want him to make a mess out of you.

“anything for you, f/n. fuck, i’d do anything for you,” he utters with a moan, sweat glistening on his forehead, his balls slapping oh so loudly against your thighs covered with your slick. and he pulls out, groaning as his cold hands started to jerk on his sensitive cock before he lets out his thick cum just right outside your hole.

thoma could barely keep in his moans, shivering at how he coats your pussy lips with his load that you looked so damn messy but fuck, you’re just so beautiful in his eyes.

“i love you,” he whispers but gained back his focus in seconds when he hears you humming. his eyes darted back to your face only to see that you’re still fast asleep.

thoma sighs, shaking his head, and went back down to look at your cum-stained cunt. he could just jerk again at the sight but doesn’t want to wake you sooner than he’d think he might. but, before he puts your legs back down and it let relax, he pulls out his phone from his pocket and quickly took pictures of your body, more on how he ruined you below, angling it where he can see how he had claimed you to be his.

with this sweet smile on his face, he bends down and slowly left a kiss on your forehead.

“sweet dreams, angel. i hope that we can spend more time soon.”

#⇲ full streams #nsfw.txt #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #thoma smut #thoma x reader smut #drugging tw #tw drugging #noncon tw #tw noncon #tw somnophilia #somnophilia tw

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girlreblogger · 7 months

Text

the annoyance with blk y/n and the stories she’s in is hilarious. her characteristics might be the problem one day or her side characters the next. it legit feels like we may never get to a balanced solution on what to do with our own representation since the wrong ppl always talk about it and create it. we have mean and shallow ppl who take over the conversation, ppl who really self hate but try and cover it up with “i just don’t want her to be a stereotype” and then the ones who probably love and support tyler perry movies.

the bottom line is the ppl who do write those niggafying, toxic (it’s a buzzword but that’s what they are) or smutty fics (not talking abt the actual good ones with a blk reader though 🧎🏽‍♀️) can do wtv they want and owe you nothing. that’s why they get so frustrated. i don’t think all the times those should be crucified for what they write when other groups of ppl (or our own) write all kinds of other crazy shit.

and.. i know a lot of ppl who don’t want to say it but y’all keep bringing up the smut and niggafying as the main problem, but i think it’s some of the ppl writing it and their underlings. it’s just no one wants to say anything.

an excerpt from a draft of mine

“a lot of ppl on here be weirdos or mean asl. so when someone block you don’t be like “oh what i did” “they that mad cause of my (internet—fictional—digital on screen) presence”

like nobody got time to go to your acc and say “i don’t like you” who cares. oddly some miserable ppl do actually but still. the lack of awareness is ridiculous. that’s why ppl don’t f with y’all.”

i was talking abt all of tumblr and every other app but it applies here.

from what i see on here, some are just straight up weird, cliquey, and chiesty (if that’s how you spell it) and that’s why ppl be so mad abt those types of books 💀. we also have to acknowledge the amount of overwhelming & honestly damaging blk yn fics (not to be confused with ppls screwed ideas of stereotypical) there are. i understand why ppl write them for personal reasons but when it comes to our own reflections of ourselves as blk women it’s almost hurtful to read some of the things people put “her” through. i mean even her with a white man that use aave and has cornrows is hurtful.. 😔 (i’m trolling now 💀) naw but fr. i personally don’t like reading blk women just being written for smut or going through crazy situations or kinda like.. i don’t wanna say unfulfilling but like.. idk i can’t think of the word. (edit: ppl write blk yn to be in unfulfilling situations) but girl i can watch a tyler perry movie for all that.

again. ppl write these stories for there own personal reasons, relate to them and enjoy them for those reasons as well. that’s why depending! on what it is i don’t think blk writers should be bombarded with hate like that. also ion think smut should be banned like y’all go to far can we just slow down on it … there are some nice ones out there i promise 🧎🏽‍♀️

but in all seriousness there are many other reasons why i feel toxic and smutty fics are popular for blk yn but i don’t think anyone cares to hear that and the conversion will prolly go back to nigga eren somehow which is crazy cause y’all be arguing over a fictional white man.

oh! 😒 i almost forgot 😒 the ppl who are against “ghetto” y/n to try and advocate for more fluffy or like.. normal (healing) stories and from what i see the ppl who are the most up in arms about it in my personal opinion seem to dislike certain parts of blkness that i appreciate personally and so i just straight up disregard their opinions. y/n doesn’t have to “act” (😒) blk but i see ppl get mad about her protecting her hair….. with a bonnet….

sigh, anyway but yeah we need more soft and sweet fics or just like calming ones? but someone gon have to write it! i don’t like this app or my writing all too much so i gave up a while ago.

just like many other blk writers….

gaspp! we should also do like a fluff challenge or sumn where writers do like fluff … march? girl idk so maybe that will trend and all the ppl who spend time arguing and going back and forth with ppl who write stories they don’t like can like idk look for other writers who write soft, normal, fun stories and reblog them or make a list of them. or maybe like possibly write their own stories too????

everyone says the smut fics gets the most likes and they do. that’s why you keep seeing them. so maybe support or refreakingblog the fics that are comforting to you so others can be as well.

i actually made this page to repost softer fics because i was tired of blocking certain tags so i can avoid heavy smut and subtly abuse fics. also pls leave the ppl who niggafy anime characters alone they will not be stopped. i mean we still have ppl who have been calling chris evans jamal since 2020.. calling him that to this date. married and all.

sigh… 2 more days until blk history month ends. maybe next year we can find a balance between “dramatic” and smutty fics and soft and slice of life ones for blk y/n next year. remember this is tumblr too and the ppl writing aren’t even getting paid for this but it’s for the ppl yk.

ppl who are respectful and reblog tho.

muah

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daizymax · 2 years

Text

let loose | hhj (m)

summary: it's a party, and your roommate said you should loosen up once in a while, so why is he upset when you start making out with one of his friends?

pairing: hyunjin x fem reader

genre: smut

word count: 6.2k

rating: mature (18+)

warnings & features: roommate!hyunjin; profanity; alcohol consumption; some name-calling (reader calls hyunjin an asshole and an idiot one time each); jealousy; jisung is briefly featured only to be used for very poor plot purposes i'm so sorry; graphic sexual content; dirty talk; vaginal fingering; protected sex

author's note: reuploaded from my old blog with some edits (nothing major though). hope you enjoy!

{ click here if you prefer to read on AO3 }

---

It’s not the book’s fault, yet you still take your frustration out on it by slinging it across your bedroom after the - not third, not fourth, but - fifth drunken guest stumbles into your closed door.

“I swear to god,” you groan, tossing aside your comforter to begrudgingly pull on a pair of pants and step out of what was supposed to be your safe haven for the night.

Into the fray it is, then.

Whichever culprit tripped into your door a moment ago is not in the hallway anymore. From the living room and kitchen, you can hear laughter and chatter straining to be heard over the booming music. And as you pass the bathroom, you lock eyes with a young man and glimpse someone in there behind him before he closes the door.

Sighing, you make your way to the living room. Nothing appears to have been destroyed, you note gratefully, but the “small gathering” is clearly busier and rowdier than what your roommate had promised. He’s not here in the crowded living room, though, so you move to check the kitchen next, pushing and squeezing past bodies with mumbled apologies as you go.

You find Hyunjin upending a bottle of tequila into a row of shot glasses. Half of his nearly shoulder-length blond hair is gathered in a knot behind his head, looking maddeningly elegant when the same hairstyle on anyone else would look messy at best. His white button-down shirt hugs his shoulders nicely, and the sleeves are folded up near his elbows, giving a clear view of the tendons in his forearms flexing beneath smooth, creamy skin as he works. It’s a simple look, but his entire appearance is still too well-kept for this hour and setting, in your opinion. You’ve always held the belief that Home is a safe place to not give a shit how you look, not a place to be looking like… that.

He spots you and smiles, though you notice a hint of sheepishness in his eyes as well. He’s pleasantly surprised to see you, but he’s also aware you’ve been disturbed on his account. Even still, he doesn’t greet you with a due apology. He keeps his tone light and carefree as he calls out: “Hey! Did you change your mind about joining the fun? You want a shot?”

You make a face. “Ick, no, tequila is such a nasty drink,” you decline. When you get close enough, you lean into his shoulder and mutter, “What the fuck, dude, you said a 'few' people. And it’s two A.M.”

He turns to consult the clock over the stove and shrugs. “Perfect time for things to be in full swing then, I’d say. And you must not be doing your shots right, babe.” He gestures toward a bowl of lime wedges, and you vaguely wonder when he picked those up because you certainly didn’t purchase them yourself.

“I know how to do a tequila shot, asshole. But still,” you dismiss without elaborating further. “I’m going back to bed. Can you try to keep your friends away from my room, please? They keep fucking bumping into my door. Oh, and if they need a bathroom, tell them to use yours because I think a couple of them are hooking up in the guest one right now.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widen momentarily, then crease in amusement. He leans to the side and shouts behind you, “Yo, Jisung! Where’d Jisung go? Hey! Someone tell him Minho is-”

You’re not interested in hearing Minho’s story or what Jisung has to say about it, whoever they both are. You’re only interested in preserving some semblance of sanctity in your home, so you get back in your roommate’s face and cut him off with a terse warning. “Hyunjin, please, I’m serious. Keep it civil in here.”

“Okay, ‘mom,’ jeez.”

You toss your hands up in defeat and spin on your heel to storm off, but he catches your bicep.

“No, wait, I’m sorry, Y/N, really,” he says more sincerely when he gets you to turn back around. You cross your arms and wait for more. “We’ll be good, and I’ll make sure everyone is out in an hour, even if I have to personally drive them all home myself,” he promises, going dramatically over the top to show you how serious he is. “But you really should just join us, you know. I’ve told you you’re welcome to.”

You roll your eyes. “Of course I am. I fucking live here.”

“Exactly. This is your home, so you should let loose once in a while.”

“And what could I possibly gain from getting drunk with you and your friends?”

“Uh, the experience of actually having fun for once? And the pleasure of our - well, mainly my - amazing company?” Hyunjin answers with a tone and a face that tells you it should have been obvious.

“Yeah, right,” you snort.

“Just let me see you have one shot, babe. Humor me. Pretty please?”

You eye the pitiful, pleading look on his pouty face, then the spread of liquor on the sticky countertop, and eventually cave. “Fine, where’s the salt?”

Hyunjin watches in delight as you lick the back of your hand to prepare it for the salt. As you’re sprinkling it on, someone joins the two of you in the kitchen.

“Hey Hyunjin, were you just calling me?” He doesn’t wait for the answer to that before he’s going on, “Who’s this? I don’t think we’ve met.”

You turn to face the newcomer and stretch out your unsalted hand. “Hey, I’m Y/N, Hyunjin’s roommate.”

“Oh!” He takes your hand in both of his and squeezes it enthusiastically. “Good to finally meet you. I’m Jisung.”

You throw a cheeky smile at your roommate as you grab one of the shot glasses. “Why do I get the feeling I’ve been talked about behind my back?” you ask neither of them in particular, though Hyunjin at least has the decency to blush over being caught.

“Nothing bad,” Jisung rushes to clarify. “Hyunjin’s just mentioned you sometimes, like whenever something reminds him of you or- something.”

His abrupt finish makes you think Hyunjin just gave him some kind of shut-the-fuck-up look, but you missed it. You don’t press for details, though. You just go about getting through the shot you were so easily talked into. So you lick the salt from your hand, down the tequila in one burning swallow, then bite into the flesh of a lime wedge in sequence as quickly as you can while the boys watch.

“Awful. Just awful,” you declare when you’re finished, smacking your lips and clicking your tongue in disgust.

Jisung chuckles and Hyunjin claps your back rather proudly as he takes the bitten lime wedge to throw it away.

“Do you like beer? We can drink beer instead,” Jisung suggests.

You look to see if he is in fact speaking to you, which does appear to be the case from his smile and hopeful eye contact.

Before you answer, you take the time to give him a proper once-over. He’s very attractive, but it’s not as instantly noticeable as with Hyunjin. Something in the way his smile begins faltering the longer you stare at him is utterly endearing to you, though.

“We?” you tease.

“I mean, if that’s c-cool with you-” he starts backtracking on his boldness.

“Y/N isn’t really into parties, are you, babe?” Hyunjin suddenly speaks up for you. “I think she was just going back to her room.”

Jisung furrows his eyebrows and pouts. “Aw, really?”

You give Hyunjin a look that is both stern and confused. You have mixed feelings about the pet name to begin with. It’s one thing for him to want to call you something other than your name when it’s just the two of you, but he never calls you that in front of others. Or he never has before, at least. Now it makes it sound like the two of you are… a couple? An item? Which is not the case.

Plus, he’d been excited to have you out here “joining the fun” a moment ago, but now he’s okay with you retreating to your room? Or perhaps he just doesn’t want you spending time with Jisung in particular...

Upon connecting those dots, you decide you only have one choice in the matter.

“Actually, I’ve changed my mind about that. I’d love to have a beer with you, Jisung,” you say sweetly, to which he beams.

“Great!” The return of his smile assures you you’ve made the right choice. “Lead the way.”

Hyunjin shoots his friend another look as you and Jisung leave the kitchen together, but you miss that one, too.

---

“So, what made a girl like you move in with a guy like Hyunjin?”

“‘A girl like me,’” you repeat, downing another swig of beer. “So you think you know all about me now since we’ve talked about our jobs and hobbies, huh?”

Jisung doesn’t flinch against your teasing this time, just laughs. “I mean, I’m definitely not opposed to learning more about you.”

He stretches an arm behind you on the back of the couch and scoots closer. He really is a very good looking guy, and you know it’s not the alcohol adding optimism to your vision, either, because you haven’t had all that much. He has great hair, pretty eyes, cute nose, nice teeth, beautiful cheekbones. A little excitable, you can tell, but also charming and polite. He’s cute.

He holds your gaze with a small but unwavering smile this time as he waits for you to either answer his initial question or offer more information about yourself. You opt for neither.

“Maybe I don’t want to talk about me anymore.”

“Okay, that’s cool. What would you rather talk-”

You lean in and kiss him. Just a peck, a gentle press of your lips to his, not too fast but still over before he’s fully registered the gesture or able to return it.

“Oh,” Jisung whispers in understanding when you pull back a little.

“Was that okay?” you ask.

“Yeah, yeah, perfectly okay,” he assures. He bites his tingling lip and smirks, then lifts his arm from the couch to place his hand on the nape of your neck. “But I wasn’t quite ready. Can we try that again?”

You nod, and he closes the gap to kiss you back properly this time. From some corner of your apartment, a tipsy guest whistles over the scene, but you’re more interested in the hum Jisung lets out as both your lips part and tongues slip together in sync. He tastes of beer and salty snacks, but something on him - his shampoo or his lotion or his cologne or maybe a mixture of the three - smells faintly sweet and minty.

His fingertips gently tickle your neck for a bit, then hold firmly to draw you deeper into his kisses. You consider moving onto his lap, but something in the back of your mind tells you not to cause too much of a scene in the middle of Hyunjin’s party.

In fact, if you were paying more attention to your surroundings outside of this cute stranger, you might have noticed the onlookers stirring up a scandalized fuss over your roommate already making a beeline toward the couch, but it isn’t until he’s shoving the two of you apart that you do.

“What the hell, man?” Jisung protests.

Hyunjin ignores him, addressing you instead. “Y/N, can I talk to you for a second, please?”

Apparently by “talk” he means pull you completely out of the room and partway down the hallway like a barbarian before you manage to wrest your hand away.

“What the hell, Hyunjin?” you repeat Jisung’s question with double the annoyance.

“I’m here asking you the same thing,” he snaps back in a hushed tone. “Why are you making out with a stranger on the couch?”

You cross your arms in front of him for the second time tonight and raise an eyebrow to his attitude. “I thought I was just letting loose, having fun and enjoying the pleasure of your friends’ company. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“I didn’t mean like that! And why Jisung?”

“What’s wrong with Jisung? He seems nice.”

Hyunjin gawps like he’s never heard those words out of anyone’s mouth before. “You’ve only known him for like half an hour!”

“So? He still seems nice. And he’s really hot...”

You turn your head back to the living room to try and catch Jisung’s eye and give him a signal that you’ll be with him again shortly, but Hyunjin dives to block your line of sight.

“He’s not good enough for you, trust me.”

“Well for fuck’s sake, Hyunjin, I’m not trying to marry him! I’m just trying to get laid,” you spell out bluntly. Hyunjin scoffs but doesn’t reply, just looks down at the floor. You scrutinize the plain displeasure all over his face and smirk as a sneaking suspicion occurs to you. “Unbelievable. Is the Hwang Hyunjin actually jealous?”

“Yes.” His swift, honest answer catches you completely by surprise and stuns you into silence. When he gauges that you’re not going to reply, he continues, “It’s not fair, Y/N. We’ve been living together for months and it only took Jisung thirty minutes to get you to want to sleep with him? I’ve been here this whole time. I’ve been- I’ve wanted you this whole time...”

You process his words in continued silence for nearly a full minute, then finally say, “If I’d known it would only take me making out with one of your friends to get you to confess that, I would’ve joined one of your parties sooner. Or you could have just told me from the start, you know.”

Hyunjin recognizes a joke somewhere in your words and automatically lets a laugh slip, but soon snaps his head up. “Wait, really?”

“You’re such an idiot,” you chuckle. “But I guess I am, too. I guess we’ve both been wasting all this time. Want to make up for it?”

His eyes blow wide. “R-Right now? Aren’t you drunk?”

“No. Are you?”

“No…”

“Then why not? I mean, I guess we can at least kick everyone out first, if you wa-”

His lips are on yours before you can finish the thought. They’re just as plush as they look, but the impact is sharp, and you take only a brief moment to grunt over it before you’re reciprocating in full, grabbing his shoulders tightly and pulling him closer. He tastes like traces of salt, too. Citrusy as well. And the woody scent of his cologne is an all too familiar comfort in your nostrils. He wraps his arms around you and you sigh, happily letting him overwhelm your senses.

“Babe… please tell me this won’t be a one-time thing,” Hyunjin mumbles between ravishing blows of lips and teeth.

“Wasn’t planning on it being.”

“And you’re sure you’re not drunk?” he checks again.

“I’m sure, Hyunjin. I want this.”

“Bedroom, then.”

“Yours or mine?” you giggle.

“I don’t care… yours,” he decides quickly, steering you by the hips in the right direction.

There is already a couple in there tangled together in their own passionate lip-lock when you stumble through the door. You’ll have time to be upset about their evident plans to defile your safe haven later when you’re not in your own haste to commit nasty acts in it.

“Get the fuck out,” Hyunjin growls at them.

You expect at least one of them to argue that they were here first, but they heed his command without a word, hastily picking up one of their discarded shirts before scampering off.

Hyunjin slams the door behind them with a careless kick of his foot, then continues right on kissing you like you’re holding all the air in the room. At the same time, his hands are busy trying to map every line of your body like it’s something he needed to have memorized yesterday.

“Hyunjin - ungh - I know we’re making up for lost time, but - mmph - we can still - hah - slow down, you know,” you laugh, struggling to get your words out in the midst of the feverish pace he’s setting.

He nearly whimpers at that. “Just want you so fucking bad, you have no idea. Been waiting so long to touch you, kiss you.”

His lips skim across your cheek and over to your ear. Whatever response you had in mind is lost when he nips your earlobe with his teeth then soothes the sting with the tip of his wet tongue.

“You like that?” he asks, though he suspects he knows the answer already by the shiver that runs through you.

“Y-yeah.”

He does it again - a quick nip of his teeth and a sensual flick of his tongue - and then he’s on to the next thing, trailing those enticing lips down the column of your throat, suckling gently at your skin the entire way.

“Can we take this off?” Hyunjin asks next, alerting you to where his fingers have hooked themselves under the hem of your shirt.

At your nod, he yanks it up and drops it aside. There is a glimmer in his eyes as he takes in your bare chest, as though one of his biggest fantasies has just sprung to life before him. You entertain the idea that perhaps it has.

“Holy shit,” he breathes. He’s never been one to impress easily, but there’s no mistaking the look on his face for anything else.

His pace is much slower when he reaches to graze the pads of his thumbs back and forth across your perked nipples. The soft moan you release encourages him to take a better feel with his palms.

“I can’t tell you how many times I’ve pictured your tits in my head,” he confesses as he carefully gropes you. “All those times you paraded around the apartment without a bra on, nipples sticking through your shirt... fuck, Y/N.”

You huff a small laugh at the thought of you ever “parading” anywhere, but the knowledge that you’ve ever turned him on turns you on even more, as made evident by the growing wetness between your legs.

“And these tight fucking leggings you always wear,” he goes on, roaming his hands down your hips and around to your backside, “drive me insane on you, I swear to god. Any time - every time - I see you bend over, I just want to take you over the counter or the couch or against the wall and give it to you good, baby.”

The new pet name and the sordid confessions spilling from him make you want to join in on the dirty talk, but the feeling of him taking two handfuls of your ass - the feeling of his long-awaited touch in general - is burning you up from the inside, fizzling the majority of your coherent thoughts. All you can bring yourself to speak is: “Show me.”

Hyunjin looks back to your face and grins wickedly. “Oh, I’ll definitely be fucking you in the kitchen at some point in the near future. And in the living room. There are so many things I want to do to you. So many things I want you do to me. We’re gonna fuck each other in every single room in this place, starting with this one.”

He pulls away, and you immediately miss his body heat. You don’t complain, however, because you don’t want to disrupt him from yanking his shirt out from where it’s tucked into his jeans and undoing the buttons one by one with deft twists of his fingers. Once the flaps are loose, he shrugs and lets the fabric spill to a heap on the floor.

You’ve seen him shirtless on many occasions by now. In the mornings, stumbling to the coffee pot while still half asleep. On his way to the laundry room with only a pair of sweatpants riding low on his hips because he always lets his dirty clothes pile up until he has nearly nothing left to wear. But not in this context. Not when it’s finally appropriate for you to stare. Not when the sexual tension that has been building for months is finally about to be shattered.

Yet you don’t even get to admire his chest nearly as much as he did yours before your attention is drawn lower by his hands working to open his belt. He drops it aside with his shirt, and then his jeans follow, and then his boxers, and just like that, he’s standing completely naked in front of you with enough lithe, beautiful glory to almost make your heart stop.

Hyunjin takes a step closer to you, his erection bobbing gently and shamelessly in the air with the motion. He puts his hands back on you, snapping the waistband of your pants lightly as he leans in to ask, “Are you gonna get these, or should I?”

“Go ahead,” you invite.

You steady your hands on his shoulders, and he peels your bottoms - underwear and all - far enough down your legs for you to kick them both away. Once he stands up straight again, you wind your arms around his neck and pull him to lie over you on the mattress. He helps position you comfortably in the center with gentle nudges of his knees and tugs of his warm hands, and his lips find their way back to yours in the meantime. You hum contentedly at the return of the citrusy taste that comes from his tongue dipping against yours.

After all his careful maneuvering to get you just where he wanted, you decide this isn’t the position you want after all, so you push your weight against him until he rolls over and slips beneath you.

Hyunjin’s eyelashes flutter prettily as he gazes up at you. Then they scrunch completely shut when you press your center against the shaft of his thick, solid cock. The moan he lets out when you begin to drag yourself up and down his erection may be the single most erotic thing you’ve ever heard.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he murmurs. “Feel how fucking hard you got me already? That’s all for you.”

Your empty walls clench from his words. Nodding, you whisper, “So hard. So big. Can’t wait to have you inside me.”

He hums and opens his eyes. “Me either. Can I finger you first?”

It’s great that he’s offering because you were just about to request the exact same thing.

“Please.”

Hyunjin wastes no time slipping his hand between your bodies, and you lift up a little higher on your knees to give him more room.

He starts by gently gliding a single finger up and down your slit to gauge how wet you are already. Evidently his findings are unsatisfactory, though, because he quickly removes his hand to bring it up to his face and add some spit to it before bringing it back down. Two of his wet fingers prod shallowly into your hole, and you keen at the sensation.

“Shit, that’s tight,” he mutters, steadily working his knuckles deeper.

It’s clear when he starts searching for your g-spot from the way his fingers start crooking. He has to adjust his depth and angle a few times, but he eventually taps the patch he’s looking for.

Your legs quiver as he starts working up a quick pace against that sweet spot inside you, pressing his fingertips against it with every pump back and forth through your walls.

“Oh god,” you moan, steadying yourself with your hands on his shoulders. Your hips buck after a particularly good push of his fingers, and he hums knowingly.

“Like sitting on my fingers, baby?” he asks. The tone of his voice is pitched deeper than usual, and it sends a shiver up your spine. The hand that isn't currently inside you runs along your thigh soothingly.

You nod and lick your lips. “Yeah,” you breathe. “F-Feels so fucking good…”

“Can’t believe I finally have you sitting over me with my fingers up your pussy right now,” he says, gaze moving in a line from your face to your chest to your pussy and back again.

Smirking down at him, you say, “It’s about to be your big cock inside me.”

Hyunjin groans and bites his lip. “You sure you’re ready to take me? I just got my fingers inside you. Haven’t even fucked you open on them yet.”

“Don’t care,” you murmur, leaning down to press your bare chest into his. “Want you inside me so fucking bad, don't want to wait any longer.”

His fingers slip from your soaking cunt as you slot your lips over his, and he sighs when you slip your tongue into his mouth again.

When your hand goes reaching for his cock, he breaks away from the hungry kisses and pants, "Mm, Y/N, wait- We need a condom, yeah? I have some in my room…”

“I have some here.” You steal another quick kiss before drawing open your bedside table to grab one of the foil packets. A quick rip and tug and it’s out of the packaging so you can pinch the tip and roll it smoothly down his burning length.

“Last chance to turn back and not cross this line,” you declare.

“I think it would be even more awkward if we didn’t at this point. B-But it’s cool if you want to stop.”

He sounds nervous of what your answer may be, but you believe he means the words, and you appreciate the consideration all the same.

And you definitely feel sure. You definitely want this.

So you take hold of the base of his cock, line the broad tip up to your entrance, and begin to ease down.

The moment he breaches you, Hyunjin tenses and hisses a sharp breath through his teeth. His hands find purchase on your hips, too tight at first to brace himself against the wet heat you’re surrounding him in even through the condom, but then he eases up after he’s bottomed out.

You sit still once you’re flush against his lap, realizing you need to relish this particular moment because you won’t ever get it back - the ecstasy of feeling him stretch you out like this for the first time.

Hyunjin starts squirming after a bit, fingertips twitching from your hips down to your thighs and back again, unsure what to do with himself while he waits for you. “Baby, please, I think I might go crazy if you don’t move.”

“So impatient,” you tsk but begin to rock against him nonetheless. Careful, slow undulations of your waist to test the depths of the pleasure rippling through you. His breath hitches over a particular swivel, and you moan at the angles he’s hitting just from a little back and forth movement.

“Oh my god, you sound so hot,” Hyunjin praises. “And you feel like fucking heaven.”

“You feel so fucking good too, you feel amazing,” you gush back.

With an idea of how he could feel even better, you lift away from his lap just to sink down quickly. After a few repetitive drops, he reunites with that perfect spot inside you that has your toes curling inward and head tipping back in bliss.

Hyunjin groans along with you over the fast pace you’re picking up, and his hands finally settle for keeping a loose grip on your ass as the flesh of your thighs slaps against his hips with every plunge. Surely he can feel you starting to soak his lap; you can just hear how wet you are with every bounce. It’s sinfully vulgar but so fucking good.

“You’re so gorgeous, Y/N,” he rasps next. “I swear I could watch you bounce on my dick all fucking night.”

You look down just as he flicks his eyes up from your heaving chest to your face, then you grin at having caught what exactly he was finding so gorgeous about you bouncing on his dick.

Hyunjin licks his lips and sits up to bring his face closer to yours. “So fucking gorgeous,” he repeats on your lips before pressing harder.

You lose concentration over riding him when your mind is on the way his tongue dances behind your teeth, so he helps you out by bucking his hips upward as best he can to keep the stimulation on your sweet spot.

“Hyunjin…” you whine when he pulls back.

“Tell me what to do to make you come, baby, please. Need to feel you come on my cock so fucking bad, I'll do anything.”

From the way he was acting earlier, you half expected Hyunjin’s cocky ass to taunt you with claims of how he can fuck you better than Jisung ever could, not plea for instructions.

It’s almost sweet.

“Fuck me from behind?” you request.

Hyunjin blinks twice, kisses you sloppily several times more, then helps ease you onto all fours in front of him. You spread your knees and lift your backside to present his target to him, but he has his eyes cast down toward your face while you get yourself comfortable.

“Just like this?” he checks once it seems you’re finished moving. One of his hands hints along the small of your back delicately, wanting to touch you but not hold you down.

“Like this,” you confirm.

He takes hold of his cock and presses the tip back to your drenched folds, slicking it up and down a few times before pushing into your hole. He doesn't stop until he's up to his balls. Your pussy accepts his reentry easily, though Hyunjin seems to feel differently.

“You’re so damn tight, Y/N, fuck. When was the last time you got dicked down?”

“That has nothing to do with- oh fuck-”

He gives a sensual roll of his hips while you’re trying to speak, and you lose your train of thought once more. Hyunjin smirks at your reaction and does it again, barely withdrawing before hitting at just the right depth to have you arching your back for more.

“Is that good, baby? Is this how you want me to fuck you?” he asks, starting to build a rhythm. He holds your hips to keep you steady, but there’s not much he can do about rocking the mattress; not if he wants to keep you moaning and dripping and shuddering the way you are.

“Y-yeah, yeah, keep going, I’m getting close,” you urge.

Hyunjin keeps his eyes fixed on the place where his cock plunges in and out of you, spreading your ass cheeks apart to give himself a better view. His balls smack wetly against your clit over and over, enhancing the vulgarity of the skin-on-skin noises ringing in your ears.

It isn't as much stimulation as you need, though, so you dip a hand between your legs to play with yourself, and Hyunjin can feel the instant you touch your clit from the way you suddenly clench around him. The extra tightness draws a grunt from the back of his throat and his hips jerk unsteadily.

He’s been careful to keep his thrusts under control, striking your g-spot repeatedly without brutally battering it, but you can tell he’s losing his composure, losing his breath, losing his head in the steam of your conjoined pleasure. He groans out and pounds into your pussy harder.

The headboard is outright banging against the wall by now. Some part of you wonders how noticeable it is from the rest of the apartment, but most of your concentration is on rubbing faster at your clit while Hyunjin keeps your g-spot on the end of his pistoning dick.

“Almost,” you promise vaguely, but Hyunjin knows exactly what you mean.

His hand meets yours between your legs to lightly knock it out of the way and take over. He uses the pad of his middle finger to pick up where you left off, and the sensation - the utter thrill - of being touched by him hurtles you that much faster toward the edge, even though he's not familiar with your preferred technique yet.

“Come with me, baby, please, I need to fucking feel it. Shit, I’m so fucking close, please come with me,” he begs and babbles breathlessly.

You put your fingers over his to guide him through a few more rotations around your clit. That, coupled with another series of perfectly aimed thrusts of his rigid cock, finally send you toppling into white hot, nerve-racking, spine-crumpling abyss. You climax with a mighty clench and a cry that rips from your vocal chords just before you can suffocate it in your pillow.

“Sh-shit Y/N! You’re seriously coming on my- oh, fffffuck!”

Hyunjin lets go of your clit in a rush to grab your hips with both hands again to brace himself against the onslaught of his own explosive orgasm. You can feel his cock lurch where he’s buried it deep in your clamped walls at the moment of his release. Wave after wave trembles his frame, sending him shivering behind you as his orgasm rolls on and on for so long you almost become concerned.

Eventually, he gives you a comforting squeeze and pants, “You didn’t… you didn’t fake that, did you?”

You can’t help but laugh in pure amusement. “What, my orgasm? No, that was definitely not fake. You made me come so hard, Hyunjin,” you admit shamelessly.

“Okay, just checking,” he laughs back. “It’s just that I couldn’t see your face and-... but it still felt really-... that was so… wow.”

You don’t have it in you to comment on his eloquence - or lack thereof, rather; you don’t exactly have words for what’s just happened either.

He draws his cock from your still-quivering pussy and gets up on wobbly legs to trash the condom in your adjoined bathroom while you slump to your side and swipe the back of your hand across your clammy forehead, swallowing hard to bring some normalcy back to your erratic breathing and thundering heart.

Hyunjin returns with a towel in hand. You wearily lift an arm to take it from him, but he’s already coaxing your legs open to dab carefully at the stickiness smeared between them.

“So sweet,” you joke, finding the energy to tease him after all.

He looks at you and smiles. “It’s cute that you think I’m being sweet when I’m actually just getting a better look at your pussy because I didn’t before.”

He spreads your lower lips apart with his fingers and raises an eyebrow in approval of their sticky, swollen state, to which you gasp in mock offense and swat at his arm. He snickers and drops the towel aside, then climbs back into bed with you.

“I can be sweet, though, if cuddling is an option.”

You open your arms to showcase cuddling is in fact an option, and he sinks his head into a cozy spot beneath your chin. The crown of his golden head smells like apricots, you notice. You gently tug off the elastic band in his hair and roll it onto your wrist before shaking out the freed strands. He hums drowsily as you play with his hair.

After a while, he murmurs, “I should probably go kick everyone out and apologize to Jisung before I fall asleep.”

Again, you giggle. “Shit, I should apologize to him, too. If he’s still out there, that is. If anyone’s still out there. We may have scared everyone off.” You strain your ears for a moment to try and pick up on any more laughter and chatter out there, but all you can hear is the music now.

“You were pretty loud, babe,” Hyunjin points out.

You dig your fingertip into his cheek playfully. “And I’m sure you’ll be bragging about that for weeks to come.”

“Me? Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Despite the plans he was making to get up and leave the room, Hyunjin draws his arms tighter around your middle and remains right where he is. A while longer passes before he asks softly, “Can I sleep here with you tonight, or would that be weird?”

“Hey.”

He tilts his head to look at you.

“Don’t overthink things,” you tell him, tucking some of his hair behind his ear. “I meant it when I said I wasn’t planning on this being a one-time thing, and I think you meant it when you said you didn’t want it to be either, but we can make this whatever we want. It doesn’t have to be complicated, okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees.

Hyunjin leans his face in but hesitates when he notices that you don’t close your eyes in preparation for his kiss. You smile and pull him in the rest of the way, and he smiles back against you, eyes on yours.

When he pulls back, he licks his lips and says slowly, “So… I can sleep here with you tonight then?”

You laugh loudly and shove him away. “Go make sure everyone got the hell out of our apartment, then get your ass back here.”

---

if you enjoyed, please consider re-blogging and/or leaving me some feedback. take care! ♡

#hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #let loose #daizymax

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heartshapedbubble · 9 months

Text

omg i was answering this req and when i saved it to my drafts I COULDN'T EDIT IT??? so i deleted it in hopes to remake it BUT THE ASK WAS GONE fuck you tumblr :(( im so sorry anon you know who you are

aesop carl, qi shiyi and frederick kreiburg w/ a singer s/o hcs⚰️🪈🎼

aesop carl⚰️

...you'd have to do most of the initiation with him. aesop carl is not impolite, not at all, but the crippling anxiety overcoming him makes it hard to go beyond a "hello" or any other introduction. he has a lot of nice things to say to you, romantic even, but during the first couple of months you'll have to basically yank them out of him

aesop is horrible with words, and would rather just hide away and hope you notice how he feels about you. in his eyes, the simple things he does with you - small talk, exchanges of handkerchiefs and drinks by the table, midnight walks when everyone's asleep - are acts of confessing his love. to him, trust equals love, and love equals assistance and communication.

something that he's even more afraid, though, is singing. talking can be quiet, unnoticeable, blending in with everyday noises, but singing is always noticeable. the change of pitch can be caught even by an untrained ear, and the ensuing confrontation, to him, is terrifying.

you fascinate him, a lot. unlike him, you're not afraid to set your voice free, letting it echo through the room and spin around you like a ribbon. kind of like an aura, it attracts passerbys and always leaves them standing in awe, even if it's just for a minute. that kind of confidence is impressive, and he himself finds it rather enchanting.

as you train your voice on the podium, enjoying yourself and twirling around in your flowy robes as if there's nobody around, the last thing that's on your mind right now is a potential secret admirer somewhere nearby. the secret admirer being aesop, of course. he's crouching in one of the loges, partly sick to the stomach because someone might walk in on - or even worse, you may notice - him, partly enjoying your outstanding performance.

qi shiyi🪈

she thinks you two make for a pretty nice duet ;)

you two clash at moments, as she enjoys and is used to the more "formal" arts such as opera and your field of interest is musicals, but overall she's enarmored by your talent and your charisma. jazz, rock, ballad or aria, a strong voice does not go unnoticed.

once she softens up to you, you'll notice just how much she enjoys your voice. as you comb her hair, she asks you to sing something for her. when you two are fast asleep, her head is on your chest, listening to your soft hums as she's lulled to sleep. calls you her songbird as she wraps her arm around your waist and spins you around in your brand new costume.

here and there she'll dust off her old flute and play a nostalgic melody or two. it's even better when enrichened with your singing, and it motivates her to jump back on her feet and do a little three-step as she plays

frederick kreiburg🎼

he's not a wunderkind, but being surrounded by music from a young age he has quite the trained ear. he can quickly differentiate between a powerful mezzosoprano and a rich, dark alto. a lot of insinuations and jokes have been made behind your back about how you two are perfect for each other, but he just rolls his eyes, not bothering with empty gossip.

thanks to the unisolated manor walls, at one point he'll hear some vocal exercises coming from your room

am i losing my mind again? he thinks to himself, looking around in wonder. he stays in the hallway for a little longer, trying to find the source of this haunting voice - and it will take time, oh, indeed, but eventually he'll knock on your door and unintentionally kick off your relationship

as expected, he enjoys playing alongside you. motivating him to crack his knuckles and sit in front of the piano again is hard, but the both of you know your irresistible smile will not leave him any other choice....

mostly picks out german lieder from his collection of sheet music, but of course, adapts to your wishes - something more energetic works great as a warm up

he's the happiest when he performs alongside you on the podium. nothing makes his face light up like when he watches you sing from behind the piano, gesturing towards the audience and slowly dancing to the composition unraveled by his fingers, basking under the golden spotlight.

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f1nalboys · 1 year

Text

Come Inside - Chad Meeks-Martin

Chad Meeks-Martin x Fem!AFAB!Reader

hi guys. this is the fic that was giving me a massive amount of brain rot today!!! i dreamt this (yeah im lucky i know thank you) and havent been able to stop thinking about it since <3 shout out to tatianna (@castieltrash1) for reading it and doing some editing for me, she is the loml and u all need to follow her NEOW! (in fact, she has a charlie from scream 4 fic in the works and its DELICIOUS.) anyways hope u all enjoy this :3

WORD COUNT: 5384 (I KNOW TRUST ME)

WARNINGS: nsfw, first time sex, dub-con except not really?, chad begs to fuck the reader, male manipulator core, 'just the tip' turns into the full thing, unprotected sex, oral (afab and amab recieving,) dirty talk, praise, slight body worship, slight corruption, slight convincing so again, dub con to be safe, high/drunk sex, reader is more high than chad but neither are drunk but they drank if that makes sense, friends to lovers, im just in love with him you guys! reader wears a dress, chad calls reader good girl and pretty girl. actually proofread bc tati is a saving grace angel lady. <3

You feel him before you hear him. You’re at the bar, nursing your first drink of the night, trying to ignore the dull thud the music was giving you when suddenly there’s a large hand placed on the small of your back. “Can I get another beer?” Chad asks the bartender and you feel yourself relax at the sound of his voice, goosebumps rising on the exposed flesh of your arms as his thumb absentmindedly runs up and down. “Hey.” He tilts his head at you a bit. “Nice earrings.”

“Hi. I could say the same to you.” You look up at him and grin, matching his own wide and easy smile. Chad’s standing right beside you, toned body pressed against yours and you don’t know if it’s on purpose or just due to the crowd. “You having fun?” you ask as the bartender hands him the beer bottle. Chad takes a sip from it, looking down at you, grinning against the glass when he notices you watching the way his lips curve against the opening.

It was no secret in the group that you had a crush on Chad. It was hard not to have one on him; he was kind, funny, handsome as hell, and he always seemed to know just the right thing to say. “Now I am,” he teases and you roll your eyes, turning away from him to hide your grin. Just like that. “I’m getting fuckin’ bored though. Too many people. How about you? You find any lucky guys, Y/N?”

“Lucky guys?”

“You know, to take home?” He wiggles his eyebrows for added effect when you look back up at him. “I’m trying to ask if you’re gonna fuck someone tonight.” You nearly choke on your drink and he laughs, deep in his chest, and his hand which was still on your back begins to rub soothing circles. His hands are rough and calloused from his time playing football and they’re so big, with long thick fingers, and suddenly you’re shaking your head in an attempt to get the image of him using them on you, wherever he sees fit, out of your mind. “I take that as a no, then?”

You snort, shaking your head. “Yeah, no, not fucking anyone tonight,” you say, taking another sip of your drink and sighing. “And now my drink’s empty, the music here is too god damn loud, and you’re right, there’s too many fucking people here!” Shaking your head, you dig into the small clutch you had with you, fishing out a few dollar bills and placing them on the bar counter. “I think I’m gonna head out.”

“Can I walk you home?” Chad asks, finally removing his hand from your back as you slide out of the bar stool. Your eyebrows narrow in confusion. You had one drink, were the furthest from being drunk you had been in your entire college career, in fact, and you only lived five minutes down the road. “C’mon,” he says, shrugging his broad shoulders and flashing you that fucking smile that always made your knees weak. “It’s late, I just wanna make sure you get home alright.”

You pretend to think on it, letting out a small ‘hmm’ noise as you tap a finger to your chin. “Fine, but you have to come inside and sober up a bit before you leave.” Chad’s smile doesn’t go away at your request. In fact, it seems to grow. He takes out his wallet and places a few bills beside yours, grabbing the bartender's attention and letting them know you both had paid off your tabs before holding his arm out for you to grab. You do so with a shy smile, trying to ignore the feeling of him under your fingertips, or how close you were to him, or how he kept looking down at you with a smile, or even how his eyes kept darting to your lips. Everything he did seemed to be a deliberate attempt to get you worked up and it always fucking worked.

He leads you out of the club with ease and before you know it you’re out on the New York street. “Which way?” he asks and you nod to the right, following beside him at a slow pace. It was a nice night, a cool breeze helping to offset the hot air that had permeated the city during the day, and the lights and noises of the city still awake helped set you at ease. “You really weren’t having fun in there, were you?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because we got out here and you relaxed like you had just gotten out of a fight or flight situation.” He laughs and you smile at the sound. Chad was always grinning, always smiling, but he had been through some tough shit. You used to wonder how he was able to keep this positive attitude but then decided to let it go and try not to dwell on it too much.

“It was just… too much, you know? Lots of people, lights, that music-”

“I just think you’re old.” You elbow him in the side and he grins. “You are! You sound like my mom.” Chad sniffles and places his free hand on his back, slowing down to an almost complete stop, speaking with a crotchety old-lady voice. “Back in my day, we went to the sock hop! We were pulled by a horse and buggy, not these cars! Your music is too loud, Chady-kins, turn it down!”

You both fall into a fit of laughter, picking back up the original pace you had set. “Chady-kins? Oh, I’m so stealing that.” He shakes his head at you and you giggle, leaning further into his grip. “I mean it! And I’m telling your mom you called her old.”

You stop walking, finally outside of your apartment building. “Too far,” he says, his smile dropping ever so slightly when you let go of his arm in favor of typing in your door code. “Am I still invited in?” he asks and you look over at him. He’s leaning against the old brick building, the lights of the restaurant across the street bouncing off of his skin and his smile and his eyes and you’re nodding, face burning hot. “Yeah?” His voice is deeper than it was just a moment before and it makes you swallow heavily.

All you can do is nod.

“Good. M’glad. You know I’m not drunk though, right?” he says as you two walk into your apartment building. He lets you go first, leading the way, but you can feel his eyes on your ass each time you move. You not-so-subtly sway your hips as you walk and you swear you hear him suck in a breath. “Only had a beer and a half before we left, so, no real need to sober up.”

“I’m not drunk either. You can still hang out for a bit, though, if you want?” He hums in agreement and then you’re at your apartment, digging through your purse for your keys. “It’s a little messy in here,” you say sheepishly as you open the door, revealing the mess you had left behind in your attempt at getting ready to go out. Chad just laughs, kicking his shoes off at the door and locking it behind him. “I couldn’t figure out what to wear.”

Your heels are finally off and you hurry around, picking up the pile of clothes you had left on your bed and floor, shoving them in your closet and hamper. “Well I’d say you landed on something good,” Chad says from the kitchen, his voice muffled as he bends down and peers into your fridge. “Because you look fucking hot.” You squeak out a thank you and busy yourself at your desk, fixing up the few items you had left out and trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

“What are you doing?” you ask, poking your head over and seeing Chad in the living room. He turns around and holds up the ashtray you had left on your coffee table, an unsmoked blunt still on it. “You wanna smoke?” you ask and he nods. “Go ahead. You want something to drink?”

“Water’s fine. You’re not gonna smoke with me?”

“I don’t know,” you say, passing by him as you head into the kitchen to grab two water bottles for the both of you. “I get sorta… weird when I smoke.”

“Weird? Weird how?” Chad asks and you hear the sound of your lighter sparking as he sits back on your small couch with a groan. “Do you, like, talk about conspiracies or some shit? Because I’ve smoked with Mindy before and it’s either that or her talking about whatever girl she’s in love with that day.” You chuckle, face heating up as you turn around and see him on the couch. He’s sitting with his legs spread and you realize instantly how well-fitted his jeans are, tight around his thighs. His head is back on the couch looking up, eyes closed as he takes another hit. Smoke plumes around him in a lazy rolling fog.

You nudge him with the bottle and he takes it with a thank you. Sitting down beside him, you tuck your legs up, knees pressed against his thigh. God, his thigh. You look away from them, opening up your own bottle of water and taking a few slow sips, the image of you riding his thigh, his hands on your hips, building in your mind.

“So? How weird is weird?” Chad questions, holding the blunt out to you. You consider it for a second, eyes flicking between it and his face which was turned towards you. You couldn’t tell Chad that the ‘weird’ you got was different from what he was imagining. You didn’t spout off conspiracies about the government, or get paranoid. You got horny, and being around him would only make that ‘weirdness’ worse. The days alone when you would smoke, you’d find yourself in bed, hand between your legs, moaning his name. “C’mon.”

It’s all the encouragement you need and you pluck it from his fingers and settle back into the faux leather of your couch. “There you go,” he says, taking the time to let his eyes drag down your body while you’re taking a hit.

The dress you wore fit you great, tight against your body, the color complimenting your skin tone. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of you since he saw you tonight from across the bar, nursing his drink for ten minutes before Mindy had shoved him towards you, telling him that if he didn’t make a move on you she would on his behalf. And now here he was, smoking with you, so close on the couch that he could practically feel your pulse under his skin. He wanted you so badly and everything that came with it, the good and the bad.

The two of you pass the blunt back and forth a few times, talking about nothing in between, but you were being affected far more than Chad was. “Are you even inhaling?” you ask with a giggle, passing it back to Chad. He rolls his eyes, taking a large hit in order to prove that he was. “Alright, alright. Show off,” you mutter, blinking heavily. “How come it’s hitting me harder than you?” you whine, shaking your head when he offers the blunt back to you. “I can barely even think straight. M’all… fuzzy.”

“I’m cooler than you, duh,” Chad says with ease, taking a hit and waiting for your laughter to die down before blowing the smoke into your face. You let him, blinking, pupils wide. He thinks you look pretty normally, but he thinks you look beautiful like this. He leans over and places the roach onto the ashtray, sighing as he leans back, his left hand resting on your thigh. You swallow heavily, your vision fuzzy. Your dress had ridden up quite a bit now and his hand was so warm against your flesh. He’s looking at you with such an intense look it has you squirming, face hot when he laughs at you. “I wanna kiss you.”

You blink, sure you misheard him. “What?”

“I wanna kiss you. Like,” he laughs, shaking his head slightly. His brown eyes seemed to sparkle in the lamplight, the whites of his eyes red, pupils blown out. “So fucking bad.” His other hand, the one that had been resting on his thigh, comes up and he places it on your cheek. His thumb runs along your cheek, catching the corner of your mouth. His touch is gentle but everything is so intense still, your skin feeling like it’s on fire, burning against his own. “Can I? Please?”

You nod, closing your eyes when he grins and leans in. The kiss is slow, each movement of his lips done with a purpose. His hand drags from your cheek to the base of your neck, pushing you into his kiss, his touch, just a bit more. You follow his lead with ease, mind too hazy to try and take over.

He pulls away for a moment to catch his breath, staring into your eyes. “Fuck,” he mutters and he’s kissing you again, harder this time, sloppy. His tongue is slipping inside your mouth and you let out a soft moan, his hand on your thigh dragging upwards, pushing past the fabric. “So fucking hot,” He mutters against your lips, and then you can feel the top of his fingers brush against your underwear, right over your hips, and you’re pushing his hand away gently. “What? You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m… I’m okay.” He’s still looking at you, hands dropping to his sides, and he looks worried. You can tell he’s wracking his brain for what he did, if he had gone too far somehow. “I’m a virgin.” You blurt it out and squeeze your eyes shut, embarrassed. When you had felt his fingers up your skirt it had hit you that if it continued he’d be touching you, that you want him to touch you, but that you weren’t sure if he’d want to.

“So?” Your eyes pop open. Chad is staring at you with a kind smile, dimple evident on his cheek, and you feel your face heat up. “I mean, I’m okay with it if you are, you know?” His hand’s on your leg again, fingers dragging up and down your thigh slowly. “Are you nervous about it?”

“I didn’t know if you’d be alright with it.”

“Well, I am. Besides, wouldn’t it be good to lose it to me?”

“What do you mean?”

Chad’s smile grows and he leans in, lips close to yours. You close your eyes, waiting for him to kiss you. “You know me, right?” You hum. You want him to kiss you again. “You trust me too, right?” Another hum and this time you're leaning in a little bit, a whine stuck in your throat when he pulls away. “Then you should know that I’d make you feel good. I’d take my time when I touch you,” His hand is up your dress again and your body jerks involuntarily into his touch. “That I’d take good care of you and your virgin pussy.”

He brushes his fingers up your inner thigh and your legs spread instantly, giving him room. He grins at the sight of you, eyes closed, disheveled, breathing hard, legs spread and hand gripping his forearm. “Please?” you ask and then he’s kissing you, finally, and his fingers are brushing against your clothed clit. You keen into his touch, whining into his lips, but he doesn’t stop.

His fingers begin to rub slow circles against you, a good amount of pressure, and it feels so different from when you touch yourself thinking of him. Maybe it’s the weed, maybe it’s the fact that this is happening, but everything is almost too much. You’re surrounded by him in every way possible, his very being filling your own body, replacing your own needs. All you want is for him to feel good, for him to moan, for him to gasp at each press of your hand against him, for him to be begging for more without even realizing he’s doing it.

You want to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel.

“More?” Chad asks, parroting your own words back to you with a smile, taking his lips away from your own, his fingers speeding up. His nose is brushing against your neck before he’s kissing it, biting down against your pulse gently, soothing it with his tongue. “Bet you’re close aren’t you, Y/N?” His voice is right there in your ear, breath hot against your skin, but you can barely focus on that. “C’mon, be good for me and cum, okay? Please? Fuck, need you to cum so bad, baby.”

“Gonna-” Is all you get out before he’s biting down onto your neck again and pressing down hard onto your clit and then you’re cumming, nails digging into his arm, a moan stuck in your throat. “F-fuck, Chad, shit!” His fingers don’t slow down for a second but he’s moving off of you, pushing your dress up your body and pulling your underwear down in one fell swoop.

He shoves your legs apart and you take a second to catch your breath, looking down at him as he slides down the length of the couch. His eyes are glued to your pussy, fingers swiping through your folds and popping them into his mouth with a groan. “Taste so fucking good, so sweet,” he says, prodding at your hole with his middle finger, looking up at you. “Can I taste you?”

You nod, heart hammering out of your chest, and watch as he leans in, breathing in deep, eyes fluttering closed. As his tongue flicks over your clit he pushes his finger inside you slowly, just to the first knuckle, and your hip bucks at the intrusion, forcing his thick finger deeper inside you.

“Relax, it’s okay,” he soothes, watching your eyes squeeze at the feeling. His fingers were thick, stretching you out with just one, and his tongue kept moving, swirling around your clit and sending shockwaves up your body. You try to focus on relaxing your body and when he feels you do so he pushes his finger in all the way. “There you go, good girl,” he coos, spitting onto his finger as he begins to pump it inside you.

Chad is moving slowly, finger pumping in and out at a snail's pace, tongue moving even slower somehow. It almost hurts how slow he’s going and you know it’s to prepare you, to make you want him more than you already did. He wanted you drunk on his touch. “Faster,” you gasp and you can feel him laugh against you. “More, please, Chad?” You feel another finger press at your hole and you could cry, your body begging for more.

The stretch is only a little painful, his tongue helping to soothe the ache. You can feel the knot in your stomach growing with each quickening pump of his finger, each swirl of his tongue, and you swear you see stars when he scissors his fingers inside you. One of your hands grabs onto his head, pulling his head in closer to your cunt, hips rocking up to meet his fingers and tongue, grinding against him.

You cum without warning, your cry caught in your throat when he pushes in a third finger. It was too much. Your brain was still fuzzy from smoking and everything he was doing to you was heightened. You could feel every taste bud on his tongue as he flicked it against your clit, every groove in his fingers as they pumped inside you.

“Ok, ok, too much,” you get out and he stops, finally pulling away from you. His fingers are coated in your cum and you watch through heavy-lidded eyes as he sucks on one of his fingers, groaning at the taste of you, before holding his other two fingers out for you. They press against your lips and your mouth parts, tongue sticking out, and you wrap your lips around them as he pushes them inside.

“Don’t you taste good?” he asks with a grin, leaning over you, his free hand resting on the arm of the couch beside your head. You hum, swirling your tongue around his digits. Your hands begin to fiddle with his belt, tugging at it, and he grins. “Wanna suck my cock, that it?” You nod, his fingers still inside your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. “Yeah, I bet you do. Bet you’ve thought all about my cock inside your pretty mouth haven’t you? Fuck, you’re so pretty, you know that?”

You grin, running your hand down his face, mimicking what he had done to you earlier, thumb brushing against the corner of his lips.“You’re pretty,” you say, compliment muffled by his fingers in your mouth, and he gives you a soft laugh, his head falling to hide his grin. He finally pulls his fingers out of your mouth, a small string of saliva connecting them to your lips. “Wanna touch you,” you whine, going back to working on his belt.

“Whatever you want, baby,” he says, leaning back and shoving his jeans down. He leans backward on the couch, jeans tossed onto the floor, his cock straining against his underwear. You’re practically salivating by the time you are leaning over him, placing soft kisses over the fabric of his underwear, looking up at him through your lashes. “Hey, I didn’t tease you,” he says with a sigh, eyelids heavy with lust at the feeling. He had been hard since he kissed you and the taste of you was still lingering on his tongue and he swears it‘s fucking him up more than the weed did.

You finally tug at his underwear, pulling them down just enough to pull his cock out. He grabs your wrist, turning your hand palm up and spitting in it, giving you a wink before leaning back, arms behind his head as he enjoys the show. “I’ve never…” you say, suddenly nervous. It was clear to you that Chad had experience in this regard with how easily he had made you cum and you were beginning to worry that you were in over your head, too nervous and inexperienced and high to make sure you did alright.

“That’s alright,” he says, giving you a soft smile, one that instantly quells your anxiety. “Just take your time with it, okay? There’s plenty of time for me to teach you, okay, pretty girl?” You nod, wrapping your spit-slick hand around his cock and he hisses, head tilting back as you begin to stroke him. You start off slow, tightening your grip at the base of his cock and loosening it when you get to the top, swiping your thumb over the tip. “Fu-uck,” he says, tripping over his words with a laugh and a thick swallow. “You sure you’ve never done this before? Feels fucking amazing, Y/N.”

Leaning down, you keep your eyes on him as you lick over the tip of his cock, collecting the bead of precum there and swallowing it. He groans and you can feel him throb under your hand. You flatten your tongue and lick from the base of his cock up to the tip, following the prominent vein he had, and his hips buck at the feeling. This is exactly how you wanted him; his eyebrows scrunched together, eyes struggling to stay open at the feeling of you, him fucking into your fist with an eagerness he couldn’t control. You were making him feel good and fuck, it went straight to your cunt.

You don’t try to take all of him in your mouth. It was like he said; there would be plenty of time for him to train your throat, just like he had always dreamt of. You keep your hand on him, moving at the same pace, and you take the tip of his cock in your mouth, swallowing around it. He was big, bigger than any toy you had used before at the very least, and when you take him a bit further down he bucks his hips, plunging his cock down your throat. You gag and pull off of him and he’s apologizing.

“Sh-shit, sorry! Sorry, Y/N, just, fuck, your throat felt so good, couldn’t help it. C’mere.” He pulls you in for a kiss and you know he’s sorry but even if he wasn’t you wouldn’t care. It hits you then, while his tongue is down your throat and his hand is cupping your cheek, that you’d let him do anything to you and that you’d thank him for it. “Can I fuck you?” he asks, pulling away from your lips and resting his forehead on yours.

“I don’t know…” you start, chewing on your bottom lip. “You’re big… it’s gonna hurt.”

“How about just the tip, then? If you want more we’ll keep going, if not, that’s fine.” You ponder the offer for a second. He told you he’d take care of you, that he’d take his time, make sure it felt good for you. “Don’t you trust me, baby?” You do trust him. You know him, just like he said. You nod and he smiles. “Good girl. Okay, let's go to the bed, yeah? I’ll get you out of this sexy fucking dress and I’ll make sure you feel good, alright baby?”

He helps you stand and keeps kissing you, unzipping your dress as he moves you through the apartment, pulling your straps down. The dress is pulled off of you a second before your knees hit the back of the bed and you’re both falling onto it, giggling. “Hi,” you say, hands on his shoulders. He grins.

“Hi.” Chad stands, pulling his shirt off and tugging his underwear off, tossing both somewhere behind him. You both take a moment to stare at the other, nervous giggles leaving your lips. You had dreamt of this moment dozens of times before, had cum to it just as often, and now it was happening and it was somehow better than what you had ever thought up. “Look at you,” he says, hands dragging up your legs to your chest and back down again. He’s slotted in between your legs and you whine, wrapping one leg around him and pulling him in closer. “Use your words.”

It’s the first time he was really telling you to do something and you swallow heavily. “Please, Chad, can you?”

“Can I what?”

“Can you fuck me? Please? I want you to take my virginity so badly, I need it, please? I’ve thought about it so much, wanted it for so long.” You’re whining now, begging, and you swear you can feel the tears begin to fill your eyes. He’s smiling down at you and his eyes are so dark you’re not sure how much of his iris is left. Your legs spread for him when he nods and you watch with bated breath as he grabs ahold of his cock, spitting on it, before swiping up your slit.

He groans at the feeling. “So wet, baby. Bet your pussy will let me just slide right in.” He pushes the head of his cock in slowly and you gasp, tears filling your eyes at the stretch. It felt good but it hurt and you can feel him rocking his hips ever so slightly, pulling out and pushing back in, never going too far inside you. His hands are on your thighs, digging into your flesh, and you’re overwhelmed again.

The two of you stay like this a moment, the head of his cock pushed inside, your cunt clenching around him desperately. When he leans down over you, resting his forearms beside your head, he pushes in just a bit more and you whimper at the feeling. Chad wipes a stray tear off of your cheek and kisses you, short soft kisses in an effort to distract you from the pain and him from the overwhelming urge to push all the way in.

“Can I move more?” he whispers against your lips and you shake your head a little, too fuzzy to really think about it. “Please?” he whines, nuzzling into your neck. “Don’t I feel good, baby? Doesn’t my cock feel good inside you?”

“It does-”

“It’ll feel even better all the way inside.” His voice sounds so desperate and now he’s rocking his hips further, plunging another inch inside you and you moan because he’s right, it does feel good. The burn and pain of the stretch have gone away, giving way to pleasure. You want more, you want him, you just don’t know how to say it. “Please, baby, fuck. Your cunt feels so good, so fucking tight and wet and fuckin’ perfect for me. Let me fuck you, god, I need it so bad. Don’t you trust me? You know I’ll take care of you, right?”

You nod, babble out some response close to ‘yes, please, more,’ and then he’s pushing all the way inside, hips snapping forwards. You yelp at the intrusion, caught off guard by how full you feel, and then he’s thanking you over and over and over again as he sets a brutal pace. Chad’s weight is fully on you, his arms wrapping around you to pull you even closer to him. He can’t get enough of your skin against his, of the noises you make, of the way your pussy clenches around him and pulls him in closer, milking his cock.

“Thank you, oh fuck, thank you, Y/N. Christ, so tight.” His voice is cracking, raising an octave as he begins to lose himself in the feeling of you around him. The pain of his thrusts is quickly overtaken by the pleasure and you’re moaning, wrapping your legs around his hips, driving him deeper inside you. You both could die happy like this. “So close, fuck, how am I so close already?” He’s talking more to himself than you at this point and that’s okay because you’re too focused on the building pleasure in your gut to care.

The position you’re in has his pelvis grinding against your clit with each thrust and you swear your mind melts just a little bit more each time he fucks into you. “Please, please, please,” you say and you’re not sure what you’re pleading for but all you know is you don’t want him to fucking stop. You’re right there on the edge, can feel it through your entire body, and then Chad is moaning your name loudly and you feel him cum inside you, hips flush against yours.

You cum at the feeling of him filling you and he whines, hips rocking as you pulse around him. He’s sensitive, his head swimming, and the two of you stay like that for a moment, his head in your neck and your arms and legs wrapped around him. “So good,” he finally says, pulling his head back to look at you, his eyebrows stitching together. “You okay? M’sorry, I got carried away, I didn’t even ask-”

“It’s alright,” you say, running your hands up and down his back. You can feel him shiver underneath your touch. “I liked it.”

“Yeah?” he teases, kissing you on the lips a few times, biting down on your bottom lip as he pulls back. “Wanna do it again?”

You gasp as his hips begin to move again, the squelch of your cunt and his cum being fucked back into you filling the room. “Y-you wanna go again? Already?” He nods, hand snaking down in between you two, pressing against your sensitive clit and grinning when you whine. “If you can handle it.” You nod despite not knowing if you could; he grins. “My good girl, right? Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you cum till you’re stupid. You’ll look so pretty when you’re dumb on my cock, won’t you?”

#f1nalboys masterlist #f1nalboys writing #f1nalboys works #scream #scream 5 #scream 6 #chad meeks martin #chad meeks martin x reader #chad meeks x reader #chad meeks martin x you #chad meeks martin x y/n #slashers #slasher fic #scream fic

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moni-logues · 2 years

Text

Even Though

Pairing: Hoseok x reader

Genre: friends/FWB(?)-to-lovers, smut

Summary: Hoseok comes running every time you call, even though he knows you don't want the same things. Unless, of course... you do?

Word count: 7.4k

Content: alcohol consumption/drunkenness, oral sex (m. and f. receiving inc. deepthroat and face-sitting), unprotected sex

A/N: It's almost Hobi's birthday, so have a repost because I won't be writing a new fic for it lmaooooo! This one has had a bit of an edit and I think is much improved for it tbh; I was always quite fond of this one (esp for having written it in one sitting between midnight at 2:30am lmao) but I've added a few bits and changed the ending so it feels a little more ~realistic I guess. I've also (I hope) knocked out the bajillion typos that I had left in it before whoops! anyway, enjoy!

* * *

You turned, huddled into a corner of the club, carefully cradling your phone against your cheek as if that would, in any way, block out the noise. The voice at the other end was quiet, groggy.

“Hello?”

“Hoseok?!” you shouted into your phone. “Hoseokieeee! Can you hear me?”

“y/n? Are you ok?”

“No! I miss you! I miss you so much! I wish you were here; no one else is any fun. Can you come out, please? Come out and playyyyy.”

You swayed on your feet and had to brace yourself against the wall with one hand, staring pointedly at a chip in the paint, studiously focusing on it, trying to get it to stop swimming in front of you, doubling and twisting before your eyes.

“y/n, I was sleeping-”

“No! No sleeping! Come and play with me, Hoseok; I want to play.”

“How drunk are you?”

“Hardly,” you said with a snort, almost tripping over your own feet. “I’m basically fine, actually. I don’t even really feel drunk anymore.”

“Are you with people? Who are you out with?”

“I’m at work!”

“No, who are you out with?”

“Work! I’m at work with club at the people.”

“You’re at a club with people from work.”

“That’s what I said. But I don’t care about them... I just want you. I miss you. I want you. Please come out. Please, pretty please a thousand times.”

“Is someone looking after you?”

“Noooo. No one looks after me like you do. You’re the only one. You’re my favourite. Of all everyone, you’re my best one.”

You didn’t hear him sigh, didn’t see him rub his face with his free hand, staring up at the ceiling, facing off with the inevitable. He would come and get you. Of course, he would. That’s what he did. He’d come and get you and take you home and tuck you up in bed and leave water and painkillers on your bedside table and you’d tell him how much you love him and how much you miss him and you’d list everything you like about him and then you’d pass out and wake up in the morning and say you couldn’t remember what you said the night before. The texts would be right there in your phone but no one would mention them. Hoseok didn’t know if your amnesia was real or feigned but it didn’t really matter either way.

He knew this is what would happen, and he knew that it would slice through his heart like a knife, but he agreed to come and pick you up anyway. Like always.

* * *

“Hoseok-y! Ho-socky and mittens! My yang-mal and jang-gab-yyy. You came!”

You stumbled over to his car and made grabby motions at him through the open window. He got out and walked to the passenger side, opening the door for you and helping you in. You grabbed at his jumper and pulled his face close to yours. You sprinkled kisses all over his face as he tried to extricate himself from your clutches and return to the driver’s side.

“-ease please please please please,” you were saying as he sat down, shut the door, and buckled his seatbelt.

“Hm? What do you want?”

“I want to kiss you, please!”

You took his hand in yours and kissed the back of it with a loud, noisy smack.

“Not while I’m driving.”

“Plleeeeaaassse,” you insisted, leaning in as close to him as you can. “If I ask really, really nicely?”

“Not while I’m driving, ok? It’s dangerous.”

You groaned, frustrated, and threw your hands in the air. The world whipping by so quickly outside made you feel dizzy and then, suddenly, tired. The kind of drunken tiredness that was like an unexpectedly strong wave that knocks you into the sea, pulls you under. If you didn’t lie down now, immediately, you thought you would pass out. So you fumbled down the side of the seat for the lever to adjust the angle and flew back with an anguished wail when it tipped all the way backwards.

“Are you ok?” Hoseok asked, eyes flicking briefly in your direction before returning to the road.

You were kicking your feet in the air, pressing your shoes against the roof of the car.

“Hey, don’t do that,” he said softly, tapping your leg gently, encouraging them down.

Hoseok was just glad you weren’t trying to kiss him anymore.

* * *

“Daisy, daisy, give me your answer, dooo,” you sang, with little consideration for your neighbours, as Hoseok half-carried you to your front door. “I’m half-crazy all for the love of you!”

He carefully propped you up as he unlocked your door and helped you inside. As he shut the door, you took his face in your hands and continued.

“It won’t be a styyyyylish marriage! I can’t afford a carriage-”

A squeak interrupted your song as he lifted you, carrying you to your bed.

“But you’d look sweet upon the seat of a bicycle made for two!

“Have we ever gone bicycling, Seoky? Can I ride a bike? I think so... I don’t own one, though, but we can rent them, right?”

You blathered on as he took off your socks and pulled the clips out of your hair and hung up your jacket.

“Come here, please!” you called for him as he brought you a stack of reusable cotton pads and your make-up remover. You took both from him and chucked them on the bed, then pulled him down next to you.

“I love you,” you cooed, rubbing your nose against his. “I love you I love you I love you.”

You flopped back, head against the pillow, and dragged him with you.

“I think you are the most best, probab- Stop it! Stop it!” You swatted at his hands as he tried to wipe your make-up off for you. “I don’t want you to do that. I want you to kiss me, please.”

He turned his head as you reached for him and you kissed his cheek and his temple and his brow bone.

“Hoseok-y, why don’t you want to kiss me?” You were whiny and pouting and your big, shining eyes were boring into him.

“You’re drunk, love.”

“No, I’m not!”

“Yes, you are.”

“But I still want to kiss you!”

He gently, but firmly, took your hands from his face and held them by your side.

“If you want to kiss me that badly, you can wait eight hours and kiss m-”

“Eight hours?! No, I can’t wait eight hours! I can’t wait even eight whole seconds!”

He wished more than anything that you weren’t drunk. He wished that you would be sober, sober and still this keen, still this loving. He knew wishes didn’t come true.

You sighed, growling at the end, frustrated and pouting and pretending to be angry. But you did, at least, stop trying to kiss him.

“I just love you, that’s all,” you said, as he lay down next to you.

You turned on your side and pressed your finger against his bottom lip, flipping it up and down.

“My name’s Hoseok,” you said, as if he were your ventriloquist dummy. “And I’m so pretty and I’m so smart and I’m so kind and I’m the best person in the world but I won’t let my girlfriend kiss m-”

Girlfriend. There was that word again. You wouldn’t dare utter it sober, and nor would he. He distinctly remembered the time he tried to get you to agree to a ‘date’ and how badly that went, so he wouldn’t dream of even thinking that word in your presence. But this wasn’t the first time you’d drunkenly referred to yourself as his girlfriend. Which was what made this all the more difficult for him. Somewhere, in whatever walled-off section of your mind (and heart), you were his; you were his girlfriend and you loved him and you were willing to let him love you. And the key to this little cage was, apparently, copious amounts of alcohol. So, you went out and you drank too much and you called him up and he came running because he loved that you need him, loved that he was the one you called even in the middle of the night. And you called yourself his girlfriend and he pretended for five minutes that it might really happen.

“Just go to sleep, ok?” he said softly, tucking your hair behind your ear, pulling the covers up over you.

“Not if you’re going to leave me.”

“No, I’ll stay. I’ll stay here.”

“Good.”

You waited for him to lie down and then flung your limbs over him, holding him close to you, fisting his T-shirt. He kissed the top of your head and waited for you to pass out.

* * *

You woke, in the morning (later that same morning), thick-headed and dry-mouthed. You chugged the glass of water Hoseok left on your bedside table, finishing it before you could reach for the painkillers, which you opted to dry-swallow and then immediately regretted doing. You unlocked your phone and grimaced as you noticed the time: it was 7am, which meant you’d been asleep for all of three hours. You felt ghastly but, somehow, also wide awake. You scrolled through your phone, looking through your fingers at the messages you sent last night. There were so many.

You: Hoseeereeokkkkjjyyyy.

You: are ayou sleep?

You: I msiss you so mchu. I wish you wer hreeeeee.

You: if u coome, I wlll love youf roever.

You felt movement from the other side of the bed and rolled over, away from the embarrassment of your phone, to see Hoseok standing up. You watched him as he put his phone in his pocket, ran a hand through his hair once, twice, then turned around.

“Oh, you’re awake.”

“Catching you in the disappearing act this time.”

You sounded annoyed, but you weren’t really sure why. Just hungover. Probably.

He smiled and you wondered why he looked so shy. He was usually gone before you woke up, at least these days. Maybe he actually was embarrassed to be caught running out on you.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

You shrugged.

“Like I drank an entire bar and then had three hours’ sleep.”

“You should sleep it off; it’s still early.”

You didn’t know what compelled you to ask, didn’t know why now was the time, but you didn’t have the capacity to filter your thoughts from your mouth.

“What’s the point of you staying if you always run off so early?”

He blinked, taken aback. He replied slowly, hesitantly, almost reluctantly.

“You don’t like it when I overstay my welcome.”

It was such a specific turn of phrase, you could hear a bell ringing distantly in your brain, as if you’d had this conversation before – though, if you had, you didn’t remember having it.

“You don’t have to get up at the crack of dawn, though, just to get away from me. You can sleep in; you were also up at 4am so I’m hardly going to kick you out at 7.”

You thought he looked as if he was biting something back; his face was heavy with all the things he wasn't saying and you felt frustration settling on you, slowly taking the reins.

“I don’t know why you bother, to be honest,” you told him, your lack of sleep and excess of booze making you sound meaner than you really intended. “Why get up, pick me up, take care of me and then just disappear? What’s in it for you if you don’t even stay for breakfast?”

“Well, it’s the only time you’re ever really nice to me, so...”

It hit you like a slap in the face.

“What?”

“What?” he threw back.

“What do you mean it’s the only time I’m ever nice to you?”

“You and I both know what I mean. Take a look at your phone if you’re confused.”

He turned and, after a second’s pause, started to walk out of the room.

“Hey!” you called after him. “You can’t just say that and leave! Come back here!”

He looked at you from the door and you almost didn’t recognise him; you realised you’d never seen him angry.

“What do you want me to say? We both know what this is. This...”

He floundered, looking for a word, betraying the fact that, actually, neither of you knew what this was, what had become of you.

“I want more than you will ever want; that’s a fact. I want what you can’t or won’t give me. I made my peace with that. But then you call me in the middle of the night and you tell me that you want me and need me and that you miss me and you love me and I come running every time because I know you will never say that to me sober, will never look at me in the cold light of day in the same way you look at me in the small hours of the morning. Maybe I shouldn’t. In fact, I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself. That’s what I mean.”

Without another word – not that you could’ve managed one anyway – he turned on his heel and you heard the front door slam shut.

He wasn’t wrong. You knew. You didn’t want to know but you knew. It had always been complicated between the two of you.

* * *

A mutual friend introduced you because he thought you would like each other and he wasn’t wrong. But you hadn’t expected him to be so right; you were entirely unprepared for Hoseok. Entirely unprepared for the most perfect man to just waltz into your life and lay himself at your feet. You weren’t ready for that. You thought you would meet a guy who was basically fine (hopefully a little better than fine); a guy who would be fun for a few dates, good for a casual sort of arrangement, nothing serious. You thought you could see this guy and continue to sow your wild oats elsewhere. But Hoseok was different.

You hit it off immediately. Yoongi introduced you at a party and you instantly connected, forgetting anyone else was there, talking all night. Drinking, too. When he offered to walk you home, you knew you would offer him a nightcap in your apartment. He knew he would accept if you did. Your memories of that night were slightly hazy but you knew the sex had been good because you had sent almost everyone you knew a message that was simply five mind-blown emojis.

Hoseok had a party the following week and you were invited. He had been a perfect host and you had spent hours, desperately frustrated, trying to convince him to forget about all his guests and come rail you in his bedroom. By the time everyone else had left and he could finally give you his undivided attention, you had sobered up and your memories of that night are crystal clear. You had sent your best friend a text that read ‘I will never sleep with another man ever again’.

That was not a vow you kept.

Hoseok was kind and caring and considerate in a way no one had ever really been with you before. It almost began to annoy you, the way he took care of you, looked out for you, thought of you when he passed something in a shop window. You had begun to feel claustrophobic in his affections; this wasn’t supposed to be a relationship. He wasn’t supposed to like you or, heaven forbid, fall in love with you.

Your ‘dates’ had been casual up to that point because you had forced them to be. You would swing by his apartment after dinner with your friends or invite him over to yours when you had no plans for the weekend. When he had asked you, finally, to go on a real date with him, out to dinner somewhere, your response had been ‘why would we do that?’. That was when things had started crumbling.

He had insisted you could keep it casual and still go out to eat together. He had insisted that it didn’t matter what it was called and, if you didn’t want to call it a date, he wouldn’t call it a date; he just wanted to spend more time with you. You had called your mutual friend and given him an earful for introducing you; you had got several earfuls back. Hoseok dropped the subject.

Then he had started talking about a weekend away, going into the country, getting a cabin or something, going swimming in the lake and walking up the hills and stuff that all sounded far too romantic to you. You had asked him why the hell he kept insisting on treating you like you were his girlfriend. You had told him repeatedly and emphatically throughout that conversation that you were not his girlfriend. You kept telling him that you were friends and he kept telling you that he doesn’t fuck his friends like that. You told him maybe he should so he might lighten up a bit.

You stopped sleeping together after that. Mostly. Kind of. You hung out more often and you thought that maybe you had been right, maybe you were just friends and you told yourself that this was probably the ideal outcome. But a few weeks later, at another party, you had both got drunk and immediately sought each other out across the crowded room and left without so much as saying goodbye. You tumbled into bed and you cursed yourself for ever giving this up, for ever thinking you could go without him. Until the morning came anyway.

This happened a few more times and, each time, you grew colder and more distant in the morning. Hoseok wasn’t stupid and it wasn't as if he thought you would magically change your mind about dating him if only you had sex just one more time, one more time, but he wasn’t expecting you to behave the way you did. He had asked if you could at the very least not be rude to him, and you had shot back that overstaying one’s welcome was also considered rude and maybe he should think about that. He decided he wouldn’t sleep with you again.

It happened a few more times after that, too. Then he decided to give up drinking around you. It would’ve been easier to just cut you out, take you out of his life completely, but he was too far gone to do that. He would walk over hot coals for you; he knew it and so did you.

* * *

You woke again much later that morning and thought about what Hoseok had said. You dialled Yoongi’s number.

“On a scale of 1-10,” you began as soon as he picked up the phone, not even bothering with a greeting, “how much of a dick am I to Hoseok?”

“Hello to you, too.”

“Please just answer the question.”

“Ok, well, what’s included on the scale? Does the worst include like, violence and murder?”

“No! Obviously not. Just like, for normal friends, scale of 1-10, how badly do I treat him?”

“Is 10 the worst?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, then 10.”

“What?!”

“I don’t know what you want me to say. Everyone knows. You know.”

“I’m not that bad, surely.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Well then why haven’t you done anything? Why would you let your friend treat your other friend like that?”

“Well, firstly, because I don’t actually control you. Secondly, you may recall that we have spoken about this on a number of occasions and I have always made it very clear that you are being a dick and you are hurting his feelings and always told you that you need to stop dicking him about. But like I said, I don’t control you. And I don’t control him, either. I have also had numerous conversations with him about you and I have told him he deserves better-”

“Hey!”

“Are you seriously trying to argue with that?”

“Well-”

“Exactly. I don’t know what answer you wanted from me but, of course, the answer is 10. On a scale of 1-10, you absolutely treat him the worst.”

“Surely he takes some responsibility for it at this point.”

Yoongi interrupted you before you could say more.

“Don’t you dare go there. You are my friend and I am saying this because I do actually value you as a person and, this aside, I do think you’re a decent person: you are treating him like a cunt and he deserves better and, if you were anyone else in the world, I would’ve cut him off from you months ago and literally kept him under lock and key to keep him away from you if that’s what it would’ve taken.

“That said, I’m glad you’re asking the question. I hope this means you’re actually giving it some thought? You’re actually considering his feelings now? Considering your own, maybe?”

“What do you mean my own?”

“Your own feelings for him.”

“I don’t have feelings.”

Yoongi hummed non-committally and you could almost hear his eyes rolling through the phone.

“Well, anyway, let me repeat one more time for the record that you are a total dick to Hoseok and you should treat him better.”

“Thanks very much.”

“You’re welcome!” he rang off brightly, ignoring the sarcasm of your comment.

* * *

You were grumpy and hungover and tired and feeling unsettled, disturbed. It had been some time since you and Hoseok had discussed anything to do with... whatever it was that you were or had been or wanted to be, and it always made you uncomfortable. You did know, really, deep down, somewhere you tried not to look, that you were treating him badly, and on days when the hangover anxiety was at its worst, you felt sick with guilt about it. But you also felt sick at the thought of more. He wanted so much of you. More than you felt you had to give. He saw things in you that you were sure just weren’t there. And you didn’t want him to see the things you kept hidden, the dark things, the bad things, the things that would make him turn and run for the hills if he knew. He was too good for you and it scared you and it hurt you and you chose, simply, not to address it. To run away from it as far as you possibly could, which, when you’d had a drink or six, was not very far at all.

You showered to try to wash the discomfort away; you stuffed yourself full to try to distract yourself from the anxiety in your guts; you, briefly, considered drinking again but the thought brought bile to your throat. You stared, unseeing, at the TV, ostensibly watching a drama, but really replaying your own, real-life drama over and over in your head.

You wanted to be reasonable about it but the guilt and embarrassment and anxiety curdling in your gut made you feel sick and you couldn’t face it, so you chose not to be reasonable. You kept butting your head up against the fact that, if he really hated it that much, he could just not answer your calls. Sure, you could stop calling him, but you only did it when you’re drunk and who had that level of self-control after that many drinks? He didn’t have to come and get you; he didn’t have to walk you into your apartment; he didn’t have to put you to bed. He did all of that on his own. And maybe if he actually slept with you, it might've made a difference...

You tossed that thought aside because you knew both that it wasn't true and that you would not want to be anywhere near someone who would soberly fuck anyone even close to as drunk as you usually got. Hoseok was not that guy.

The more you thought about it, the more annoyed you got. You knew that you couldn’t really think straight; you were not at your best right now, but you were annoyed. You were annoyed that you had to be tired and hungover and thinking about this. Why couldn’t he just keep it simple for you both and leave you alone? Or, at least, ignore you when you didn’t leave him alone? You felt like he was making his feelings your problem. And you were done with it.

* * *

You stood outside his door, hesitating. The taxi ride over had taken just long enough that your immediate anger was subsiding and a tiny part of your rational brain was waking up again. Then you thought about the texts you sent him last night and were so embarrassed at yourself that you needed to feel something else: guilt, shame, anxiety, anything would do. You hammered at the door.

Hoseok opened it and looked surprised to see you, but nevertheless stepped back to let you in.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“We’re finishing this,” you told him and he looked at you blankly. “We’re finishing this now.”

“What do you mean? Finishing what?”

“This!”

You gestured frantically between the two of you.

“I’m fucking sick of this!” you cried. “You want me so fucking badly? Then why don’t you do something about it?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m saying do something! I’m not drunk anymore! Why don’t you do something?”

“Listen to what you’re suggesting. We’ve done that. And it’s ended up with us here. How do you think doing it again is going to lead somewhere different?”

You opened your mouth to argue but he wasn't finished.

“Besides which, I don’t want to just ‘do something’. That’s the whole problem. We’re in this because I want more than just something, I want more than just sex and you don’t. And when I made it clear to you that I wanted more, you ran for the fucking hills. Before you came running back, that is.”

You were surprised because he’d never argued with you like this before. You realised, with a lurch, that he’d never been angry with you before. You couldn’t put a name to what it made you feel; you were too busy swimming with frustration and anxiety and anger to be able to think clearly. You just knew that this was different so, maybe, this was good.

“And why do you let me back, then? If I’m so awful and I treat you like such shit, why do you pick up?”

“I already told you. And you don’t need to tell me I’ve lost my fucking dignity and pride; you don’t need to tell me that I should be better than that, that I shouldn’t be begging at your table for scraps. I already know. Trust me, no one is as sickened by me as I am.”

“Sickened? Wanting me sickens you, does it? I sicken you, do I?”

“Yes, actually.”

“Fuck you, Hoseok.”

You stalked closer to him, stuck a finger hard against his chest.

“Fuck you for putting that on me,” you spat.

The world held its breath for one second and, the next, you were tangled up in each other, his mouth finally on yours again, his hands against your skin, yours in his hair. He lifted your T-shirt over your head and you sighed as his fingers grazed your nipple, quickly teasing it to a tight bud. You pushed down his trousers and he stepped out of them, pushing you backwards until your legs hit the sofa. He ripped off his own top before guiding you down until you were lying on the sofa with Hoseok at your feet, tugging on your jogging bottoms. You tilted your hips to allow him to pull them off and he brought his hands up to relieve you of your underwear.

His eyes were black, darker than you’d ever seen them and he looked at you like you were in trouble, like he was imagining all the things he could do to you. You gulped and arousal pooled in your core; you were suddenly desperate for him, clawing at him until his mouth was on yours so you could taste him one more time. You palmed him through his boxers and he groaned into your mouth, swearing softly as he pulled away.

You were tingling all over with anticipation as he trailed kisses down your neck and onto your chest. He licked a broad strip across the mound of your breast and bit down hard on your soft flesh. You whimpered and arched your back into him, urging for more. He clamped his teeth around your nipple and sucked, rubbing his tongue over the stiff nub and you shivered.

“Oh god,” you whispered. You had forgotten it was this good.

“Touch me, please,” you asked quietly. You didn’t want to break whatever spell was over you, but you were aching with a desire so strong, it almost hurt. And you knew how much he liked to hear you beg. “Please, Hoseok, please touch me.”

“Why should I give you what you want?” he asked, looking up at you through half-lidded eyes, his mouth slack, breathing heavy, voice rough. “When do I get what I want, huh?”

“Anything. I’ll do anything, please.”

If you had both been thinking with your brains, you would both have known this was not true. Your brains were, however, otherwise indisposed.

Hoseok sat back on his knees, looking at you, a small smirk at the corner of his mouth. He stood, briefly, to discard his boxers and then he looked down at you, slowly pumping the thick length of his hot, stiff cock.

You were on your knees in an instant, replacing his hand with your own. You brought your open mouth to his tip, softly licking across his slit, keeping your eyes on his as you wrapped your lips around him and sank slowly, slowly down his shaft. He grunted when he hit the back of your throat and outright moaned when you kept going.

“God, I’ve missed this mouth,” he said, his voice tight and gruff. He gripped your hair with one hand and slowly pulled you back. Then he kept your head still as he thrust back in, still slowly at first, gentle almost, and then, when you moaned around him, faster, and then harder when your fingernails dug into his thighs. His eyes never left yours, even though yours were swimming with tears and he was no more than a blur above you. He was always looking at you. Until his eyes fluttered closed and you knew he was close to coming, could see it when his eyes opened again, piercing in their intensity; you could feel his cock twitch in your mouth and you tapped his leg, signalling him to stop.

He fell from you in an instant and you pushed him onto the sofa.

“Don’t think you’re the only one who gets to have their fun,” you told him.

You pushed him back until he was lying and you pinned him down with your knees either side of his head. He was impatient, wrapping his arms around your legs and pulling you down to him, your core wet and dripping over his mouth. He looked at you, making sure your eyes met as licked through your folds.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “I forgot just how wet you get. I’m going to fucking drown in you."

He licked into your centre, drinking you in, taking you for everything you’d got while you rolled your hips against him, rubbing your clit against his nose, desperate for contact, for friction. You heard him chuckle low in his throat and you whimpered.

He was impatient to get started but he liked to take his time with you. He wanted you to beg: beg him to start, beg him to keep going, beg him to finish you off. He licked languidly through your folds, he sucked, he nipped, he returned again to fuck you with his tongue, all while you shivered and whined above him, pleasure building in you, urgency mounting. You grabbed his hair with both hands and tried to hold him still so you could direct yourself above him, but he was stronger than you and his arms kept you in place.

“Hoseok, please. Please, I need to come.”

He hummed against you and you tugged on his hair.

“Please, please.”

You tried harder to grind against his face, your clit throbbing and burning under the absence of his touch. He held you still. His face was buried in your cunt and you could just see his eyes, glinting at you, watching you fall apart under your desperate need for him.

“Hoseok,” you panted. “Hoseok, please.” Your voice broke as your desperation peaked, every part of you alert and armed, like tinder just millimetres from a flame.

He finally sealed his lips around your clit and you went up like a bonfire, ecstasy roaring through you, consuming everything. You were hot and sweating and writhing on top of him as he licked and lapped and sucked at you, pulling sounds out of you that only he could: loud, desperate, animal cries and his name over and over and over again.

It was only when you let loose his hair and your legs quivered either side of his head that he loosened his own grip on you and you flopped backwards, lying on top of him with your head on his hip.

“See how good I am to you?” he asked, wiping his mouth, sliding out from underneath you, towering over you once more.

“Yeah,” you whimpered. You nodded. “Yeah, yeah, so good.”

“But you don’t fucking want me.”

“Yeah, I do. I do, Hoseok, god, I do. Please.”

He rested his hands against the arm of the sofa above your head and lowered his face to yours.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” he said low, menacing.

He kissed you lightly and you lifted your head to meet him again but he moved too far off. He knelt over you, his heavy cock resting on your mound, and considered you for a while. This wasn’t usually part of your game and you were impatient, still needy for him, remembering the way he split you open, the glorious stretch of him inside you, the fluidity and power with which he moved.

“Fuck. What do you want from me?” you asked.

He tipped forward, back over you, hands either side of your head, his face so close, you could barely see him. He moved and kissed you lightly just below the ear.

“Everything.”

He stood and put on his boxers and you were overwhelmed with anger again.

“For fuck’s sake, seriously?!” you shouted, hitting him with a scatter cushion. “Are you fucking kidding?”

He turned to you, pulling his trousers back up and shrugged.

“No, I’m not kidding. I told you. I want everything. I want you, all of you, even this shitty part of you that treats me like crap, even the part of you that tells me you love me and then pretends to forget all about it in the morning, even the part of you that pretends to be sickened by the very idea of being my girlfriend, despite the fact that you refer to yourself as mine in the dead of night. Even your excessive drinking, even your emotional constipation, even your big, fat heart that you try to hide from everyone, even your insistence that you don’t give a shit despite giving a hell of a lot of a shit all the damn time, even your stupid fucking determination to do everything by yourself even when you actually need help, even your terrible taste in films and those god-awful reality TV programs you like, even your snoring, even your back turned back against me. All of it. All of you. I fucking want all of you, all the fucking time.”

You stared breathlessly at him as his chest heaved, his breathing ragged. Your heart was in your throat, blood roaring in your ears. He was waiting for you to say something but you’d lost the ability to speak. Words flew into and out of your head without your being able to catch any of them. You couldn’t think. Your mind was buzzing, static blaring, nothing but white noise. You could only stare at him, bewildered, overwhelmed, utterly naked.

His breathing slowly settled and he rolled his eyes and turned away from you.

“Of course,” he muttered under his breath.

He was walking away from you and you knew you had to stop him. Your brain had no capacity to filter anything on its way to your mouth and you said it before you even really knew you were feeling it.

“I love you. I fucking love you.”

He turned quickly and watched you, wary, unsure. You didn’t let yourself think anymore. You staggered to your feet and took his hands and pulled him close to you.

“I fucking love you,” you said again. “I love you, ok? And I'm not drunk this time and fucking fine, if I’m such a piece of shit but you still want me, then fine. Fine. Have me.”

He was still looking at you, looking into your eyes like he was trying to solve a riddle.

“I’m not fucking with you. I’m not lying. I want you. I want you and have always wanted you and always wanted not to want you as much I do because you’re terrifying. Ever looked directly at the sun? Ever looked at the fucking face of god? ‘Cause I have and it’s you. Ok? It’s you. When I get drunk and I call you and I tell you that I love you, it’s true – that's true. It’s only you I call.” Your skin was hot, flushed, but from embarrassment now, from feeling skinned, raw, exposing yourself in a way that you never did, never wanted to. Your voice broke and you desperately didn’t want to cry, didn’t want this to be more embarrassing than it needed to be, didn’t want him to see how pathetic you really were even as you were telling him. “It’s only you I want. And it’s only when I’m not sober enough to fight myself that I can admit it. I’m a piece of shit and you’re a literal angel, a fucking god, but fine, if you really want to have me, have me. I’m yours.”

He gently nudged your nose with his and whispered your name, his eyes carefully watching you. Then he kissed you, soft and slow, and wrapped his arms around you. His hands wandered, exploring your body, caressing any part of you he could reach, as his tongue rolled with yours, as you raked your fingers through his hair, as he moaned into your mouth, as he picked you up and took you into the bedroom.

He lay you gently on the bed and slipped off his clothes once more. He covered your body with his and pressed kisses into your neck. Then he bit down and you keened, arching your back into him, suddenly violently, urgently aware of the slick between your legs, of your fluttering walls, desperate for him now.

“Please, Hoseok,” you whispered. “Please fuck me, now.”

This was where you were comfortable. No more talking. Just Hoseok with his body over yours, his soft skin and softer lips, his nimble fingers and strong body, his eyes black as pitch as he looked at you like you were prey.

“Gladly,” he whispered back, his lips just grazing yours.

He pressed himself against your entrance, eyes flicking between your face and your cunt as he watched himself disappear into you and watched your face, lest you betray any sign of pain or discomfort. But there was none. There was only the perfect, overwhelming fullness of him inside you and then the tight drag, feeling every contour of his cock, as he pulled back and thrust in again.

“God, no one compares to you- fuck...”

He liked to watch your face as you whined and whimpered beneath him when he lifted your legs, pushing against the backs of your thighs, hitting you deeper, harder. You were hot and sticky everywhere; your skin was slick with sweat, your cunt slick with arousal. Every part of you was fit to bursting, coming apart at the seams. You felt like a dam about to break and then he took his hand down between your bodies and pressed hard, the motion of his thrusts knocking his hand until you were crying out for more, much more, crying out that you were close, crying out please, please let me come, let me come. And he did. The flood engulfed you; you were pulled through a riptide of pleasure, unable to scream, unable to breathe, suffocating in the swirling pool of your orgasm. Hoseok kept going, fucking you through your climax until he was coming, too, painting your walls white, falling under the surface of ecstasy with you.

He fell down next to you and you lay, quiet save for your heavy breathing. When he took your hand in his, you let him, despite the thrum of anxiety in your heart.

“So,” he said, and he looked nervous when you turned towards him.

You were nervous but you’d said it now. And you’d missed him—you had. And Yoongi’s words were ringing in your ears, about your feelings, about how badly you treated Hoseok, and words from much, much longer ago, about how much you’d like him, what a great guy he was, how much Hoseok had liked meeting you, how much he liked you.

He was waiting for you to speak, not daring to go first. You looked down at your joined hands, looked up at the ceiling, looked at his face.

“I’m,” you began, your voice quiet and croaky. You cleared your throat but still didn’t know what words were going to come out. “I’m… I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you mean?”

He rolled onto his side, facing you, and you took your hand from his so you could use both to cover your face. You gave a frustrated sigh and slapped them onto the mattress on either side of you.

“I don’t know how to be a girlfriend. Not to you.”

“’Not to me’? What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing! That’s my whole point!”

You squirmed, embarrassment heating your cheeks again, and ended up on your side, facing him.

“There’s nothing wrong with you and it’s… intimidating. I’m not like that. You said it yourself. There’s a lot wrong with me and-”

“That’s not what I said. I actually think you’re perfect.”

You blinked, stunned into silence.

“But you said all those things.”

“I still think you’re perfect. Even though I said all those things, even though you do snore and even though you have handled this situation in about the worst possible way and even though it’s hurt my feelings. Even though all of it. I still think you’re perfect and I still love you.”

You turned onto your back, staring at the ceiling, blinking away fresh tears.

“I think you’re crazy,” you told him.

“There you go; there is something wrong with me after all.”

He leant over you and cupped your cheek with his hand. When he kissed you, it was soft and sweet and it wasn’t going to go anywhere—nor did you need it to.

“I don’t want to get it wrong,” you whispered to him, his face still close to yours, his breath fanning over your face.

He shrugged lightly.

“It’s ok if you do. We can’t be right all the time.”

“You’ll still love me?”

“Yes. After all this, I still love you. I’ve tried not to, I promise. So, yes, I will still love you if you get it wrong. As long as you love me.”

“I do.” You wanted to say it back, felt it stick in your throat. You swallowed hard, blinked slowly, took a deep breath. “I love you, too.”

He kissed you again, still soft, still gentle, and then settled back on his side.

“So…”

“So?”

“So can I actually call you my girlfriend now?”

You rolled your eyes playfully and couldn’t stop the little thrill in your heart or grin on your lips.

“I guess, if you must.”

He grinned back at you, wide, beaming.

“Yes, I fucking must!”

You thought that sounded just fine.

#hoseok x reader #hoseok smut #hoseok fic #jhope x reader #bts x reader #jhope smut #bts smut #bts fic #jhope fic #mmm repost

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shadowynn · 2 years

Text

| in love and lore | six |

pairing: ateez x fem reader

genre: fantasy/daemon/soulmate au

warnings: violence, death, yandere behavior, prejudice against mc. (things are a bit darker towards the end of this chapter)

summary: the daemon king and his seven black generals. names and faces of these eight had changed over the years as each new king was crowned, but their reputation as the most powerful daemons always remained the same. upon hearing the rumors one of the seven led the charge of the nearby battle, you should have stayed close to the encampment. you should have never wandered out on your own. but you did, and your life would never be the same again. good or bad, you would just have to wait to find out.

“There’s no need to be afraid, angel.” His words were a breath against the side of your neck. “You’ve done so much for us, let your king now return the favor.”

wordcount: 14.6k

| five | six | seven |

a/n: so, I knew this chapter was going to be long when i first wrote it, but it still ended up much longer than anticipated. oops. but this really is one of my favorites so far (though i have come to learn editing long chapters can be a pain) and hope you all enjoy this too! as always, all feedback is appreciated and loved. even if i don't reply, i read each and every comment and they always make me smile. :) the support for the series so far has been so sweet and i appreciate you all so, so much.

You had expected someone to wake you up the following morning, but found it was nearly midday when you rolled out of bed. The sun had long since reached its peak in the sky when you stepped outside, stretching out the kinks in your muscles. Just like Mingi had said, another Black General sat at the table near the entrance. He was scanning over a stack of papers, taking notes every so often in the margins, but looked up when he heard the tent rustling upon your exit.

You shuffled under his gaze, hovering near the entrance. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sleep so late.”

“Don’t worry about.” He waved your concern away, offering a smile in an attempt to ease your discomfort. “You’ve had a rough past few days and I’m sure the extra sleep was needed. If we had need of you, we would have woken you earlier.” Not only was he as attractive like the ones before, with streaks of red in his hair, but he was tall too. His figure towered over yours when he stood up to pull out the chair next to him and motioned for you to come over when he noticed you holding back. “But, please, come eat. We can head over to the infirmary when you’re ready.”

You were hesitant to take the seat, finding the act of someone pulling your seat out for you strange and foreign. Sure, Hyunwoo had done it for you a time or two, but only on special occasions such as your birthday, and even then it had been done in a half-teasing manner. But there was no hint of mockery in his stance, and he simply smiled at you once more.

He was gentle as you took the seat, pushing you forward and moving the full plate of food left on the table in front of you before returning to his seat. “I’m Yunho, by the way. It’s nice to meet you, angel.”

He stayed with you for the next few hours, leading you throughout the grounds just as Mingi had done the day before. He was less talkative than Mingi had been, and even more so whenever you tried to press him for answers, giving the same stupid excuses as all the others. You would just have to wait until you met with Hongjoong. When this meeting would actually take place, however, no one would say for sure. The only answer they gave was soon. You just had to be patient.

When the sun began to set, Yunho guided you back to the tent to eat and retire for the night, but it wasn’t just food that awaited you upon your return. Several daemons hung around the table when you approached behind Yunho, and you were quick to notice the black horns on each of them. Wooyoung and Seonghwa had made a return, as well as two others you had yet to meet, but were quickly introduced as San and Jongho.

Their presence was overwhelming. The aura of just one of them was intimidating as it was; the raw power each them held was nothing like anyone you had met before, and it all combined was nearly suffocating. But as oppressive as it felt, there was an inkling of contentment hidden beneath. The hollowness that had plagued you since Seonghwa had placed the mark on you had almost been filled, as though the part of you that had burned away had come back. For the first time in a while, you almost felt whole.

You grew accustomed to them quicker than you liked, no longer quite so tense every second you were forced to spend with them. You didn’t like them, and you hardly trusted them, but the nerves that had plagued you in the beginning began to dissipate with each day. You didn’t know what was to become of you, but the kindness they treated you with and the warmth that bloomed in your chest each time you saw one of them made you all the more confused and gave you all the more reason to keep your guard up.

Your time with them was vastly different than back in the city. You were under constant supervision by at least one of the Seven at all times, but they were much more lax with your work. No one ever woke you in the morning, allowing you to sleep as late as you wish and start work on your own time. And when you did work, no one dared to raise their voice or insult you. Your identity of being the Black Angel had become well known, and though discovering you were a half-daemon was a shock to them, it didn’t bother them as much as you had expected. Whether this was because they were actually grateful for what you had done, your constant guard, or both, it was hard to tell.

Hongjoong was oddly missing during the time you spent with them. While his generals were always more than happy to accompany you anywhere and everywhere - as long as it was inside their camp, that is - you had yet to even sneak a peek at their golden king. Despite the orders he gave towards you through them, he had remained out of sight for the time being. And though a part of you was itching to ask them when you would finally get to meet him and get the answers you desperately wanted, it was a different matter altogether to actually ask. Not when you weren’t even certain that he even was their king.

Yeosang was also gone more often than not, spending the majority of the time with Hongjoong in the city while you were left at camp. You had seen him once or twice, and the sight of his gleaming black horns had made your stomach twist. A painful reminder of the lies he had told you and the act he had committed in your name. He approached you once on your second morning, but was quick to pick up on your frustration in his attempt to strike up a conversation and kept his distance after that. The look he had given you as he went, so similar to that as a wounded puppy, had made your stomach twist once more. As though the fact he had hurt you had wounded him just as badly.

They had claimed you would stay with them until they had no further use of you. You had assumed this usefulness was in your healing abilities, but Mingi’s statements upon your arrival the first day had worried you. Leaving you with the fear your use to them was more than your ability, a thought that clung closer to you each day you remained here. Despite having attended to the remainder of their soldiers in the evening of your third day there, there was no inclination of sending you back from from Yunho when you arose the following morning.

And with no work at the moment, you were left with little else to do besides amuse yourself with your current guard. You had just finished lunch and was doodling on the back of one of the papers Yunho had been reading over when you had asked him for one. Though the two of you had settled into a relatively comfortable silence, you saw the way his eyes darted in your direction every so often to look at the random sketches you had done, especially the rough sketch you had done of him from your boredom in the top corner.

Your eyes glanced up when you felt the presence of another general, but it was the person who was with him that caught your eyes and had your breath hitching.

The pencil dropped from your hands and before Yunho could ask what was wrong, you were up from your seat and sprinting in their direction.

“Hyunwoo!” You called out your brother’s name and his head was quick to turn in your direction with just enough time to recognize you before you barreled straight into him. He caught you easily, arms wrapping around your body with the same force you had captured him with. “I was so worried about you. They said you were okay, but I still couldn’t help but wonder, you know? They didn’t lie, right? You’re not hurt?” The words came out in a single breath, rushing to voice the worry you had felt towards his and Soomin’s wellbeing in your absence. “And what about Minnie? Is she safe too?”

“We’re fine.” He pushed back the hands that had been running across his figure to check for wounds, brining your eyes back up to his face when you were satisfied he spoke the truth. “But what about you? Are you okay? Soomin and I were so worried when Suho informed us you had been taken.”

“I’m fine. I’ve just been sent here to heal their wounded for them.” You waved back his concern, knowing it was well placed with where you had been the past few days, but more worried about what had happened to him and your sister since you had last seen them. “What about you two? What happened to you?”

“We were ordered back to the house after the ceasefire was called. We’ve been there ever since, though I was called out for a task in the forge this morning before being brought here.”

His eyes flickered to Jongho, who you had yet to process was standing there next to you until that moment, his expression unreadable as he observed the exchange between the two of you.

You didn’t know how you felt about Jongho. While you had waved away Wooyoung’s and Seonghwa’s teasing comments about him the first night, you had quickly realized there had been some truth in them. He was quieter than the others. Almost bashful when it came to you, but a welcome relief to the way some of the others acted. You knew it very well could have just been an act to get you to drop your guard even more than you already had, but you still preferred his company more than the others, appreciating the silence that surrounded the two of you when you were alone.

“But you are okay, right, y/n? They haven’t done anything to you, have they?”

You shook your head, suddenly self-conscious under Jongho’s inquisitive gaze, wondering what thoughts might have been running through his mind at the moment. “No, I’ve been treated quite kindly since my arrival.”

“Don’t worry, your sister is safe here with us.” Jongho broke the silence, a hint of a smile breaking through as he added to your words.

“Woo, this is Jongho.” You pulled away from your brother, conscious of the way his and Jongho’s eyes kept glancing between each other. “Jongho, this is my brother Hyunwoo.” You knew there was a good chance the two had already become acquainted, but you felt the need to break the silence that had settled between you and it was the first thing you could come up with. “Is there a reason he’s here?”

Now that you were over your excitement of seeing your brother, the anxiety of what he was doing here began to settle inside you and whether or not you were the cause behind it. Jongho had been your guard the day before and had been curious about the dagger you had been using in the infirmary. He had asked to see it that night at dinner, testing out the design for himself. He had praised the workmanship of it, asking if it had also been your brother who had designed the arrowhead that had wounded Seonghwa when you had explained your brother had created it. You had been hesitant to answer his question, but you hadn’t sensed any hostility in his tone. Now, you wondered if you had made a mistake in telling him the truth and that your foolishness had gotten your brother in trouble.

“Hongjoong sent for him. He had a task for your brother earlier this morning and though you might enjoy having your brother accompany you back to your house to get ready for the ball this-“

“Wait, wait, wait,” you interrupted. Any relief you might have felt towards knowing Hyunwoo was was safe for the time being and you would finally get to go home immediately masked by the statement he had made towards your attendance of the masquerade. “I’m attending?”

You had first heard about the event at dinner when you had returned with Yunho that second night with them. It had been San who had first mentioned it, having given up his seat at the table for you to sit, and the first to inform Yunho of what he had missed in the peace talks that day. He had explained it was an event meant to try and lessen the tension built up from the war, but the knowing looks he had exchanged with the others, and the smirk Wooyoung had been unable to hide, had you doubting their words.

The only other mentions of it had been in passing; one general asking another if the proper preparations had been completed or not. While you held some curiosity towards the event, you never bothered questioning them on it. Your attendance was something you never considered, so you never had a reason to question them. The guest list had been reserved to a higher class, much higher than your own, and even if it hadn’t been, no one had extended an invitation your way. And you hadn’t cared. You had absolutely no desire to spend an entire evening surrounded by a crowd of people who would just serve to make your life as miserable as possible.

“Why wouldn’t you?” Yunho must have not trusted you when you had run off without a word and followed you over, his sudden response to your question making you jump. You hadn’t heard him approach. “It wouldn’t be a party without you, angel.”

“Oh, well, um, thank you for the offer, but I don’t really think me going is a good idea.”

Your head tilted, shuffling as a new form of panic bloomed inside you. They expected you to attend? It wasn’t because you hated social events, but rather just events filled with people who hated you. The thought of it sounded more like hell than a party in your mind, and you could only imagine what sort of hell would actually be raised when the humans realized you were there. Did they not realize that you would get kicked out faster than you could explain you had actually been invited. And that was only if you actually got in.

“Ah, but you see-“ Yunho’s reply was cut off short, and while you had found it strange the first few times it had happened to him and the others, you had quickly come to realize it was Hongjoong who was doing it. Apparently you weren’t the only one who he had taken control of before and was now acutely aware he was observing the scene between the four of you and Yunho had been about to say something he wasn’t supposed to. “We’re aware of how some humans might respond to your presence, but you don’t have to worry about them. We’ll make sure nothing happens to you while you’re there. You’re safe with us, remember?”

You just barely caught the tail end of his eyes fading back to black as you turned your head, another sign you had quickly come to discover meant it wasn't actually Yunho who you had just been speaking to. And like always, you had a hard time fighting the urge to glare up at him, hoping Hongjoong would see your frustration. He was more than perfectly content communicating with you through the others, but remained steadfast in staying away from you at the moment. If it wasn't for the fact he was the only one allowed to give you answers, you wouldn't have cared. And though meeting with him still terrified you, you were antsy for that time to come. The unsurety of you fate was starting to drive you crazy.

"Yes, you've all stated that several times now." Your arms crossed, unable to hide the frustration that came with the phrase they had been repeating over and over again the past few days. "But I still don't think it's a good idea. And even if it was, It's not like I have anything to wear." You really couldn't have cared less about what you did wear, but knew the few items in your wardrobe would pale in comparison to anything else the other attendees would be wearing, causing you to stick out even more than your normal presence would have already.

"Don't worry. We've already thought of that and you'll find clothes for you and your siblings were delivered to your house this morning."

"Why?" Once again the question that had plagued your life the past few weeks popped out, more than thoroughly confused as to why your attendance seemed so important to them.

"To thank you for everything you've done, angel."

"And we've been over this a million times. I didn't save Seonghwa and the others because I wanted some sort of payment. I didn't ask for you to repay me. I don't need you to repay me."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair at the lies they continued to tell you. After all, if they truly wanted to thank you for what you had done, they would let you sit this one out. But they weren't. And if Yunho's earlier statement hadn't been proof enough for there being some hidden agenda - what had he been going to say? - then their insistence of you attending was. What that agenda might have been, you hadn't a clue, but there had to be one. This wasn't them showing you gratitude for saving Seonghwa's life, you knew that, but until Hongjoong decided he would talk with you, you had no choice but to play their game. Your very life might depend on it.

"And I'm not saying this because I'm not thankful for what you've done for me. I am, truly. But you've already thanked me enough. You don't have to keep doing this. You've done more than enough to return the favor and then some. Just let it go, let me go, and we can all move along with out lives."

"I know this has all been confusing for you, y/n, but will you let us do this one last thing?" Yunho's gaze had softened, unfazed by your ranting as he raised a hand to the side of your face. "I promise things will start to make a lot more sense after tonight. Just hold on for us a bit longer, will you, angel?"

You wanted to disagree, but one look was all it took for you to know nothing you did or said would change either his or Jongho's mind on the matter. You could try all you wanted in convincing them to let you be, but nothing you said or did would change the end result. It would just be wasted time and breath.

"Sure, whatever." It's not like I have a choice.

You had to bite your tongue to keep the last statement from coming out. While you had some leniency when it came to them - you sure as hell didn't see anyone else talk to them in the same manner you just had - you didn't want to take the chance at possibly putting yourself in a worse position than you already were because you couldn't hold your tongue.

"What the hell is going on, n/n?" Hyunwoo asked when the two generals finally let you leave with your brother. "Angel? Really?"

"Welcome to my life for the past few weeks," you grumbled, arms crossing as you did your best to hide the blush his callout of one of the nicknames they had all given you had created. You hadn't put too much thought into it though. It was nothing more than a playful reference they made to your previous hidden identity. "I keep trying to figure out what's going on and what they're planning to do with me, but they won't answer any of my damn questions. It's all just 'Hongjoong will explain everything to you later,' but Hongjoong seems to have a keep interest in avoiding me at the moment."

You briefly wondered if you should be more careful with what you said about him, just in case he was still spying on you, but you brushed the concern off as soon as it came. Perhaps if you made him angry enough, he would finally come talk to you.

"He has no problem spying on me and telling the others, 'Oh, y/n is exhausted so let her sleep,' or 'y/n's not supposed to hear that yet, so talk about something else.' It's all been Hongjoong this and Hongjoong that, but oh, no. You just need to have some patience. He doesn't want to talk to you right now. And why's that, huh? Because it would be a crime for the daemon king to be seen with a fucking mutt?"

"Are you sure you should be talking about him in that manner?" Hyunwoo's voice had lowered, eyes sweeping the general area to check and see if you had been overheard.

"Oh, trust me. He would have heard me if he wanted to. Did I forget to mention that he's in my fucking head?" You groaned, half regretting what you had just said, but also half hoping he had actually heard it. All of it. "They won't go into any specifics with it, but I'm pretty sure he already knows exactly how frustrated I am with all of this. He has access to my brain whenever he wants, after all."

"He can read your thoughts?"

"According to them, it's a little more complicated than that, but who's to say they're just not telling me the truth to keep me from freaking out more than I am already." You shrugged, letting out another exhausted sigh. It felt nice to finally be able to get your emotions out. To finally release all your frustrations after keeping them in for so long. "To be honest, I'm starting to think this is just some sort of game they're playing. That this nice exterior they've shown me is just a front for something more sinister. Now that they've gotten use of my ability, they'll embarrass me in front of everyone tonight for being stupid enough to believe someone like me could actually be something more in life. Why else would they be doing all of this?"

"I don't know." Hyunwoo's words were still soft as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, doing his best to calm you down for the time being. "As crazy as it seems, I don't think their motive is anything sinister. I spent quite a bit of time with Jongho this morning, and I didn't get any ulterior motives from him. He just seemed genuinely curious about how my ability worked and even asked if he could see some of my previous work. And when he mentioned you, there was genuine warmth there. If you ask me, I think they really are grateful for what you've done for them, they just have a bad way of showing it."

"Maybe, but does it even matter?" You weren't sure how Hyunwoo's words made you feel. Unsure if them actually being grateful for you like they said was a better outcome than your own demise. "I don't know what they plan on doing with me, but the only good outcome that can come out of this is them finally letting me go. And based on what I've heard, I have a hard time believing that will happen." You sighed once more, wishing you had listened to your sister all those years ago and put your own wellbeing before people you didn't even know. "And now I've got you and Soomin wrapped into this as well. Minnie told me countless times to be careful and of how dangerous it was for me to be going out, but I just always thought the worst thing that would happen would be me dying. I never imagined something like this would happen. I just wanted to help people, but I only ended up managing to hurt the people I care about instead."

"It'll be okay, n/n. We'll get through this together." Hyunwoo's grip tightened, pulling you closer to him. "They offered you answers tonight, right? So we just have to make it through this silly party and then maybe you'll finally figure out what they plan on doing with you."

"I swear, Woo, if we somehow all make it out of this one alive, the next time you or Soomin warn me against doing something incredibly stupid, I'll listen. No ifs or buts."

Despite the situation, Hyunwoo laughed, the sound of it slowly easing the tension and fear that had been eating you up the past few days. "Well, if that's the case, you'll have to tell her that yourself. I'm sure Minnie would love to hear it."

"So she can hold it against me forever? Yeah, no thanks." You couldn't stop the giggle that came at his reply, playfully shoving him to the side, a sense of normalcy settling on you once more. For just a short moment, you were able to forget about the war and the daemons. For just a minute you could fool yourself into thinking it had all been one long dream.

But it all came crashing back down the moment you saw the dress the daemons had given you for the night's event.

If you didn’t think you were going to die beforehand, you sure as hell did now. Whether it would be at the hands of the humans, the daemons, or simply sheer embarrassment, you didn’t know. But you did know you wouldn’t be making it through the night unscathed. That was a given.

When Yunho had mentioned the clothes they had gotten you and your siblings for the ball that night, you had expected something similar to the dress presented to your sister. Something of high quality and beautiful, but simple enough to fit in with the rest of the crowd and not drive any unwarranted attention your way. You hadn’t expected something that would cause you to stand out more than if you had just been forced to wear one of the few dresses in your closet.

While Soomin’s was a deep maroon, yours was a bright, dazzling gold. The top was fitted, with a high neckline that crossed just below your collarbone in the front and let a small second of skin between your breasts bare alongside the entirety of your back. The skirt billowed out beneath your waist, and though loose and light with a slit that reached your upper thigh, still gave you enough cause for concern on what to do if you needed to run.

If the attention the style and color of the dress would bring didn’t make you uncomfortable already, the slit at your chest did. It wasn’t just because it showed more skin than you were used to showing - hell, you hardly even wore dresses, let alone something form fitting - but that it left the top half of the king’s sigil on your chest bared and exposed for anyone to see.

Soomin had attempted to alleviate some of your discomfort by reminding you it was a masquerade, but any relief the mask might have brought left as quickly as it came when you unwrapped the mask that had come with the dress. It was pure gold, melded and worked into an intricate design though extremely beautiful, did little to hide any of your discerning features. When Hyunwoo stopped behind you, you were quick to realize this was the task he had been requested for earlier that morning. You could see your brother’s gentle touch in the shape, and realized now why Jongho had been so curious about his ability.

But as beautiful as the piece was and as proud as it made you that even the daemons saw and appreciated your brother’s skill, you still regretted having to wear a mask that did nothing to hide your identity. If you weren’t certain of the daemon’s hidden agenda before, you were now. With a dress that screamed for attention all on its own and a mask that did little to hide your identity, they had to have something planned for you tonight. They wouldn’t have just dressed you up in something like this to simply thank you.

If it wasn’t for the fact Soomin and Hyunwoo would be at your side, you didn’t think you would have the courage to go. You had already tried to talk them out of making you go, begging for them to excuse your absence with being sick - the nerves bundled in your stomach definitely made you feel sick. But you knew it was pointless. Even if you did convince everyone to stay home, you knew it would be next to impossible. If they didn’t simply send someone to fetch you, Hongjoong could force you there on his own. And if it came to that, you weren’t sure how they might retaliate, afraid you would only risk your own life as well as your siblings.

Soomin did your hair, pulling and twisting it in a way that left the majority up and out of your face while leaving enough down to cover the tips of your ears. While this might have been enough for her to appear human in public, your luck of inheriting your father’s daemon eyes prevented you from easily blending in the way she could. And though she commented how pretty you looked, you couldn’t wish more than ever your eyes would suddenly appear human when she handed you the mirror. It didn’t matter how pretty you might have looked, all anyone had ever seen, or would ever see, were your slit pupils.

The trouble began before you even got inside the palace. Your cloak, once again mended and whole thanks to Soomin, was wrapped tightly against your body. Partially to keep out the brisk, autumn air and partially to keep the dress and mark hidden from view as long as possible. It did nothing to hide your identity, as an invitation with your names had come alongside the clothes given to you. The moment you walked up to the entrance and handed over the card, the guard eyed each of you with disdain.

It didn’t matter that he knew you were the people listed on the card and the guest list in his hands, the fact you were half-daemons had him convinced you were attempting to sneak inside and cause mayhem. For why would the council or the daemon king ever see fit to invite a bunch of mutts to an event that was meant to reign peace between them.

Though his actions struck a nerve with you, you were relieved all the same, hoping the commotion would be enough to send you all back to your house and avoid any further incidents. But just as you opened your mouth to convince the others to drop it and return home, a daemon guard approached your small group.

The human’s face blanched as the guard addressed you and your siblings in a cordial manner before quickly reprimanding him for offending the king’s personal guests. You didn’t know what part of the interaction made your stomach knot tighter. What might happen to the guard due to his mistake or the way the daemon spoke to you as he motioned you inside. The casualness of how he mentioned the king and his generals ‘eagerly awaited your appearance inside’ had you clutching the cloak all the more tightly around your body.

Unfortunately, you only had the safety of your cloak for a few moments longer. The moment you made it inside, a servant was asking to take it for you. And if you weren’t so terrified of revealing what laid beneath, you might have taken the time to note how strange it was to be treated like someone of a higher class for once in your life. You attempted to keep the cloak, shying away from their hands. The thought of taking it off and revealing the dress underneath made you terribly self-conscious, but when Soomin pointed out it might only attract more trouble, you hesitantly shrugged it off, shivering as the breeze from outside hit your skin.

You could already feel the eyes of the surrounding servants and guests milling around the antechamber as the golden dress was exposed. Your arms immediately wrapped around your chest and you hovered behind Hyunwoo is in shadow as the doors to the main hall were opened and you were ushered all the way inside.

You had been inside the castle of Maehwa before, often being asked to make personal calls to attend to any aches and pains of the council members and their families, but you were still left in awe at the scene before you. They had held balls and parties numerous times in the main hall of the castle, but they had never been anything but a fantasy for someone like you. Never before had you dared to so much as peek into one of these events, let alone actually be invited to one. And despite the events that had led up to this occasion, you couldn’t help but let a small smile sneak it’s way out as you took in the scene before you.

The main chandelier had been kept unlit, leaving the ones along the side as the only source of light besides the lanterns scattered amongst the room. It gave the scene a slightly eerie appearance from the way the shadows of the attendees danced along the way, but held a sense of enchantment all the same. Music filled the air from a small orchestra playing in a corner of the lower floor, while tables for food and drinks had been set up on the opposite end. And though the center of the main floor had been cleared for dancing, not many people occupied the space.

You strayed at the top of the staircase next to your siblings, taking in the sight of something that felt right out of a fantasy for you. And yet, here you were, dressed for the occasion in an outfit that was worth more than your own life. The gold glittered in the firelight, sending scattered beads of light dancing across the floors and walls it reflected off of. You might have been able to blend in well enough if you had been dressed in something more conservative. But the dramatic cut of the dress stuck out just as much as the color, influenced by the daemon’s style of clothing. There was no hiding in it, and already you could feel the gaze of the crowd around you, certain they were talking about you in hushed whispers amongst themselves.

You did your best to ignore them, fingers grasping for Hyunwoo’s forearm as you peeled past his shoulder to the scene below. A group was gathered at the base of the opposite staircase, set apart from the rest of the crowd that killed around. It didn’t take long to realize this was where the daemons had set up, recognizing the faces of the Seven behind their black masks. While you had always seen them handsome in their own way - something you would have never admitted out loud - it was even more evident tonight in the way they had cleaned up. Loose fitting shirts and leathers had been replaced with black formal attire, and the hair you always fought the urge to straighten out was slick and combed back.

An odd weight settled inside your chest as you observed them from across the room, tugging at you to go and free them. While the emptiness you had felt since the mark had been placed had nearly disappeared in your time with them the past few days, it had come back worse than ever when you had left with Hyunwoo. You had taken the tightness as nerves for the night’s events, but if that was the case, it should have worsened upon finally seeing them, not filled you with a bubbling sense of warmth and relief.

Whatever you thought of it though, disappeared when you took notice of the new face amongst the group. Even if it wasn’t for the way the lights glittered off the golden horns and crown that adorned his hair, you would have known who he was. Despite never seeing him before, you knew without a doubt this was Hongjoong. This was the daemon king.

He was breathtaking. Not that you had imagined him to be anything else. Not with the way each of his generals looked, but the sight of him still made your heart skip alongside a sharp intake of breath. Even with the distance and the golden mask - it’s twisted, metal shape that oddly seemed to mimic your own making you distinctly aware that this had been the other mask Hyunwoo had created - that hid his face, you knew he was just as attractive as the others. The way he was laughing at something Seonghwa had whispered to him making your stomach flip. Whether this was in awe, fear, or a mixture of both, you weren’t sure.

As though he knew you were looking at him - which very well could have been the case for all you knew - his head tilted up to the top of the staircase where you stood, eyes immediately locking onto your figure hiding behind your brother.

Hello, angel.

There was a hint of playfulness in his tone and you swore you could see a smirk cross his lips as the words echoed inside your head. If it weren’t for the fact he was actually there across the room, you might have felt some frustration over the fact this was the moment he finally decided to break his silence with you. Instead, it merely made your nerves spike and your heart skip another beat, each causing you to swiftly hide your face behind Hyunwoo’s back as a wave of heat flooded your body.

“I think I might go out to the balcony and get some air.”

Your words came out breathless, face hot and chest heavy as the situation you were in came rushing back. The awe of the scene that had killed you began to fade as those golden eyes seemed to pierce into your very being in that split second you had caught onto them. The words which had followed only confirmed it had been you he had looked at.

Now that you were finally seeing him, you wondered why you had ever dared to utter your frustrations towards him earlier. You might have wanted to meet him over the past few days, eager for just a hint of what was truly going on, but one look was all it took to make you weak. One look and you were ready to turn and run. The thought of having to get any closer than you already were nearly shook you to your core.

“But, y/n, you’ll freeze out there,” Hyunwoo replied, both he and Soomin oblivious to what had just happened. “Why don’t I just fetch us some drinks and we can find some dark corner to hide in for the rest of the night.”

“That sounds great, Woo. We’ll be over there,” Soomin voiced her agreement before you could voice any complaint you might have had, and dragged you over to an empty spot against the railing obscured by shadows.

“I don’t think I can do this, Min.” You leaned against the nearby pillar, trying your best to calm your anxiety as you purposefully positioned yourself so you weren’t facing him or the others anymore. “Everyone’s looking and I just know they’re talking. I can feel their judgement on the back of my neck.

“I know, but it’s just a few hours.” Soomin’s hand grabbed yours, squeezing it softly. “They did promise you answers if you came tonight, didn’t they?”

“That’s what Yunho said, but how do I know he wasn’t just lying to get me here tonight? What if it’s all just some scheme to pull me in and slit my throat?”

You gulped, unable to stop every worst case scenario from flooding your mind. Now that you were here, none of the options for how you saw this night going seemed very favorable. And even if you did succeed in getting the answers you yearned for, who’s to say they would even be anything you wanted to hear? And then, you would have to get close to Hongjoong to get them, a feat you didn’t know was possible or not.

“Did you see him, Min? He was so…” you paused, struggling to find the right word to describe how exactly he felt, “intense.”

“He’s something, that’s for sure.” Soomin nodded, observing him from across the room. “I can feel all of their auras from across the room. It’s…” she shivered, turning her gaze away, “uncomfortable.”

“Like you’re caught in a trap with no way out.” You struggled to suppress your own shiver, fully aware of what she was talking about. You may have grown used to their presence after the past few days, but the intensity had grown with the king in attendance.

Soomin nodded. “Though, it seems to do little to suppress Hayoon and the twins from fawning over him and the others.” Her lip twitched as she propped her elbows against the railing, a hint of a smile appearing as she watched them. “I wonder if they’re doing it on their own accord or if their parents put them up to it.”

Her statement caught you off guard and you turned back around to peek past the pillar to look for yourself. Sure enough, Hayoon and the twins, Sunhee and Yunhee, had crept as close to the daemons as possible. None of them so much as trying to hide their intentions as they did their best to catch the attention of one of the daemons beside them and wriggle their way inside.

You had very few interactions with the three girls over the years, but the few you had, had never been pleasant, making the scene with the woman at the infirmary a week ago nearly pale in comparison. The fact each girl had seemed to have suddenly put aside their dislike towards anything daemon because of a few pretty faces had you more frustrated than you had been when Wooyoung had first mentioned their attempt.

“I heard the council is trying to convince the daemons into a marriage union,” you replied, fighting the frustration that rose back up at the scene. “Funny how they don’t seem to mind daemon’s so much when they’re not the ones with the power. Do you think they realize what sort of children they’ll bear or do they magically think they’ll come out human?”

“And what are we talking about over here?” Hyunwoo had returned with the drinks, handing a glass to the both of you as his eyes attempted to follow your line of sight.

“Hayoon and the twins,” Soomin replied, pointing over towards them. “Apparently the humans are trying to secure a marriage alliance with the daemons, so there they are. Making an utter fool of themselves. I only wish I could hear what they’re actually saying.”

“Probably something about how hard it is to be the daughter of someone so high and respectable,” you huff, lips tilting upwards a smidge at the thought. They could try all they wanted to get the daemons’ attention, but you had heard enough over the past few days to know the marriage alliance was never happening.

“Or how difficult it is to find a respectable man in these times and day. All these men only seem to want to marry them for their money and stays. No one truly cares about who they are or how they feel. I mean, really? Who would ever do such a thing?”

You couldn’t hold back the giggle that popped out as Soomin followed your lead, quickly masking it with a hand to your mouth. The fact each girl was failing miserably at catching their attention only added to your amusement. And while the past few days had been strange and unnerving, you couldn’t help but wonder what sort of reaction you could pull out of them if they had known you had spent the past four days accompanied by them and each of them knew you by name.

“Oh, did they finally get a catch?” Hyunwoo asked, leaning over the railing to get a better look as one of the Seven, who you thought might have been San, whispered something into the king’s ear before breaking free from their group.

This immediately caught the attention of the three girls nearby, but any joy they might have felt fell when he passed them by without so much as a glance in their direction. You had little time to relish the disappointment that crossed their faces as San climbed the stairs behind them and began making his way in what appeared to be your direction.

You had no time to hide other than to attempt to obscure yourself in Hyunwoo’s shadows once more, turning your back towards him and hoping he would simply pass you by as he had done with them. Your attempts were in vain, however, as mere seconds later he drew close to your group and called you out by that ridiculous nickname they had given you.

You couldn’t stop the curse that slipped out from under your breath, nearly spitting out the sip of wine you had just taken and doing your best to compose yourself before he got too close.

“What are you doing up here hiding in a corner, pretty?” He peered around Hyunwoo’s shoulder, his smile playful as he caught your eyes. They didn’t stay long, straying for only a second or two before trailing downwards to fully take in your figure.

“Exactly what it looks like. I’m trying to stay inconspicuous.” You fidgeted under his gaze, arms crossing against your chest as you noticed the sets of eyes that had followed San’s movements to this point. Even Hayoon and the others had given up their antics for the time being to see what he was up to and who he might have been conversing with. “Which you’re not helping with by the way.”

“These must be your siblings.” San ignored your attempt at sending him away, turning to your siblings standing beside you. “Soomin and Hyunwoo, was it? It’s lovely to meet you both.”

“Likewise,” Soomin murmured, eyes glancing towards you as he smiled at her.

“Do you need something?” Your words pulled his attention back towards you, nearly shivering at the way his gaze shifted. You didn’t like that he was here meeting them. It felt strange, as though two different sides of your life was converging. As though he was wriggling his way into your private life.

“I happen to love dancing, angel, and am in search of the perfect partner.”

The inflection in his tone made you nervous and you swiftly shook your head, eyes widening. “No.”

“C’mon, pretty. You can’t just hide up here the whole time. Who will dance with me if you do?” He pouted, but his eyes were still teasing. “Please?”

“San, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“You do realize that us just being here is akin to a taboo, don’t you? I can’t imagine what sort of hell you’ll raise if someone like you dances with me.” Your words were hushed, trying not to draw any more attention your way than there already was. The only reason you had yet to have anyone approach you was most likely due to the fact you had yet to be properly identified. Because the last person anyone would expect to be the girl dressed in gold was you. “If you want to make friends with the humans, you have to leave me alone. Go dance with Hayoon. I’m sure she would be dying to based on the way she’s been flaunting herself over there.”

“But I don’t want to dance with her, I want to dance with you.” He pouted, tilting his head, but his eyes were still playful. “And if that’s the best excuse you have, then, well, I’d say this place could use a little hell.” He grabbed the drink from your hand and took a sip of his own before placing it on a nearby table and grabbing hold of your wrist. “If you don’t mind, I’ll be borrowing your lovely sister here for a few moments.” He bowed his head in their direction and dragged you away before either of them could object.

“San!” you whined, trying to pull him back as the panic began to build inside the pit of your stomach once more. “I don’t even know how to dance. I’ll only embarrass you.”

“Don’t worry, angel, I’m a great teacher.” He looked back, a smug smile set on his face and completely unfazed by your second attempt to get him to stop. “Just follow my lead and you’ll be fine. I promise.”

You were left with no choice but to follow after him, bunching up your skirt in your free hand as he led you down the stairs towards the dance floor. If you didn’t have the entire room’s attention on you beforehand, you sure as hell did now. Everyone was bound to be wondering just who had drawn one of the Seven out onto the dance floor.

But as much as the humans’ curiosity unnerved you, it was nothing compared to the gaze of the other daemons. You made the mistake of glancing in their direction just once as San guided you to the center of the floor and immediately regretted it. Now that you were closer to them than before, you were acutely aware of the way their eyes had latched onto your figure next to San. Another wave of heat ran through your body as your eyes ran past each of them and you wondered just how exactly you were going to get out of this night alive, let alone in one piece.

“San, I really don’t think this is a good idea.” Your hands were shaking as he guided the left onto his shoulder. It was bad enough this was your first time dancing, let alone with someone else, but the eyes that watched you made it all the worse. You didn’t care what San had said, this was only going to lead to embarrassment on your part.

“Nonsense, just relax, will you, sweetheart?” His other hand wrapped around your waist, and you couldn’t suppress the gasp he elicited from you when he used his grip on you to pull you in close. “I’ll be doing all the hard work here. Just take a deep breath, relax, and let me lead you, angel.”

That was much easier said than done, but his grip on you was secure. Though you stumbled a few times in the beginning, he always pulled you into the next movement without skipping a beat. And while the ease of his movements did lessen your panic, the attention the action pulled was enough to keep you on edge. You didn’t know where to look. San’s face was completely out of the question with the smug smirk that was plastered there, but the onlookers, especially the daemons, weren’t any better. Eventually, you settled on his jawline, trying hard to not accidentally step on his toes, a feat you had somehow managed to avoid for the time being.

“See, it’s not so bad is it?” His voice was a breath against your ear.

“Everyone’s staring,” you mumbled back, risking a glance behind him and regretting it immediately. If you weren’t so terrified of San or the reaction it would pull from him, you would have just biting your head into the crook of his neck to avoid seeing all of them.

“That’s because of you, angel. Everyone’s wondering just who the pretty girl in the golden dress is.” He chuckled at the way his statement made your cheeks tint, but he didn’t stop there, continuing before you had the chance to rebuke him. “Which you look absolutely ravishing in, by the way. I knew you would when I saw the dress, but damn.” He sighed, fingers tightening against your waist and pulling you flush against him.

If it wasn’t for the music filling the hall, you were afraid he would have heard how fast your heart was now beating. And given the position you were in, you did bury your face into his neck this time, not wanting him to see the effect his words had on you. At the chuckle that reverberated through his chest, however, you knew your actions had hidden absolutely nothing.

“You’re doing great, angel. I think it’s time for you to try a spin.”

“No.” You pulled your head back out, shaking it quickly as a new wave of desperation filled you. You were barely hanging on as it was. Complicating things more than they already were was only a guarantee you would mess up. “Don’t do it, San, I swear-“ But your words were cut off when he ignored your pleas once more and did it anyways.

His grip on your hand was secure, keeping you from stumbling as he spun you around, the motion of your movement causing the fabric of your skirt to swirl around you, casting the nearby area in a sparkle of lights.

“Please, don’t do that again.” You tightened your hold on him when he pulled you back in, breathless by the act. It wasn’t quite as terrifying as you had expected, especially because you had managed it successfully, but you felt much more secure with both of his hands on you.

He laughed, pulling you back into him, a move you could only hope meant he would oblige to your request this time around.

It felt like an eternity, but the song eventually fell to a close and San seemed content with one dance for the time being. You were quick to excuse yourself before he could think to take you over to the others, claiming you needed the bathroom when in actuality you headed outside to one of the upper balconies in front a desperate need for some air.

Grabbing another glass of wine on the way, you were relieved to find an empty spot near the opposite end of the room overlooking the courtyard down below. With winter fast approaching, the majority of the attendees remained inside, but the cool air felt refreshing against the heat the dance had built up inside you, and you leaned against the nearby ledge with a sigh.

What were you doing here? You didn’t belong here.

You had been promised answers tonight, but the dance with San had only served to create even more, unsure of what insanity had driven him to do it. He had said the party could use a little hell tonight, but what had that meant? Was it because their intentions were true, and they truly didn’t care if your were a half-daemon like Wooyoung had insisted upon that first night, or were they simply using you as a pawn? Did they simply want to thank you with a night you had only ever dreamed of before, or was their invitation merely a way to rile up the humans?

And then there was the way San had complimented you. It was different than before. The others, including Hongjoong, had all complimented you before, but those were nothing more than teasing nicknames and playful remarks. Angel was only a reference to your time as the Black Angel, and pretty, was well… just something they said to amuse themselves with the reaction it could pull from you. Tonight, however, San’s words had been different. It had been in the shift of his tone. And in the way his fingers had tightened their grip, as though he was afraid you would slip right through.

You shook the thoughts away, fighting the blush that crept back on your face as your mind ran through the scene once more, hating how easily you had melted at the words. He wasn’t being serious. He couldn’t have been serious. He hadn’t been thinking clearly when he had said it, clouded by the image before him to remember exactly who you were. To remember exactly what you were.

The answers to everything were back in the ballroom, but how were you going to get them? We’re you just supposed to wait until one of them approached you or were you expected to come to them, yourself? Without knowing exactly where you stood with any of them, it was impossible to tell. They had seemed lenient enough with you back in the camp, but it was a different world here. A world where you were reminded just who they were and not the man who stood guard over you. They were the eight most important daemons and you were, well, you. Would they simply react the way they always did if you were to approach or would they punish you for daring to approach without permission?

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard rustling behind you. Turning around, you expected to find one or both of your siblings, or perhaps even San when he realized you had lied to him. What you hadn’t expected to see was Hayoon and the twins in tow.

“You’re fucking kidding me. It was you?” Hayoon’s eyes hardened as she recognized you, lips puckering as she took in your appearance with a newfound disgust. “He picked the fucking mutt over me? What the hell are you even doing here?”

“I-”

“So that’s what she’s been doing since she got sent over to them,” one of the twins - you had never took the time to get to know them well enough to tell them apart - was quick to add as they approached you. “Fucking them in order to get some kind of favor, huh? Tell me, which one did you do it with to get this dress?”

“I can’t believe this. What the hell got in your head to think it would be okay for you to show up tonight, let alone in that thing.” Hayoon’s eyes raked over the dress, jealousy evident in her gaze. “My father said marriage was in the talks and that I should be sure to get his attention to secure it, but I can’t get him, let alone any of his stupid generals to even look in my direction thanks to you.”

“Well, well, well, would you look at this.” The other twin broke Hayoon’s ranting, finger pointing towards the golden mark gleaming in the moonlight. “She was the traitor after all. She was the one who killed that lady. She had to be. Daddy said they requested her by name, after all, so she must have been in league with them for some time now.”

“What did you even hope to gain from it, you stupid whore?” Her sister asked, head cocking. “I mean, you do know what they do to mutts like you, right?” She tan a nail against her neck, mimicking the act of them slitting it. “Did you think helping them would get you into their good graces? Did you think fucking them would keep them from killing you?”

“You do realize you’re nothing more than a pawn to them?” Hayoon was close enough for you to smell the alcohol on her breath, but her eyes were sharp. “That the only reason they’ve been entertaining you this whole time is to you use you against us? My father said marriage was in the works, but I’m not an idiot. I know the daemons would never dare to mix their blood with the likes of us. They’re too prideful for that. They’re just using you as a toy to mock us. Dangling you in front of us as a way to degrade us.” Her finger trailed against the fabric wrapped around your upper arm. “So, just what are we to do with this pretty, little plaything of theirs, girls?”

She grabbed hold of the fabric, tugging hard. The sound of it ripping left you gasping, making you wonder what was going to happen to you when they realized the dress had been ruined. You didn’t have the means or money to fix it.

“Hayoon, are you sure we should be doing this?” The twin on the left asked, more hesitant now that Hayoon seemed willing to act on her frustrations. Her eyes glanced back at the entrance to the balcony, as though worried of getting caught.

“Relax, Sunnie, they’re going to kill her once they’re done with her. We’ll just be doing them a favor when we beat them to it. After all, she is a traitor, so we’re only doing the right thing by turning her in once we have our fun with her.” She took the wine glass from your hand and tilted the rest of the contents onto the front of it, staining it beyond repair. “Oops, my hand slipped.”

You knew you should do something to defend yourself, either by words or actions, but you found yourself shutting down at the haughty expression Hayoon wore. After all, what if she was right? What if this really was nothing but a game for the daemons? And you were just a pawn to get back at the humans? That they would kill you once they were done with you.

Was this why they had brought you here tonight despite your insistence it was a bad idea? Did they dress you up and pull you out into the dance floor to attract trouble your way? To ensure something like this would happen to you? To ensure the humans would punish you, so they could use your death as an excuse to exterminate them all? And that they had only marked you as a means to see the war through to the end?

“What’s going on here, angel?”

Between the voice that spoke directly in your left ear to the arm that was suddenly snaking it’s way across your waist, you couldn’t keep from jumping. You weren’t they only one surprised by their sudden presence, and Hayoon stumbled backwards, eyes wide and blinking as she took in the figure who had just materialized behind you.

You didn’t have to look behind you to know who it was. Even if you hadn’t recognized the voice, you knew it was Seonghwa. While you had been confused by how quickly he had moved the night you had saved him, you had since come to learn his daemon ability had something to do with teleportation.

“Are they bothering you, pretty?”

You had a hard time deciphering the emotions running through you. You were relieved at his presence, grateful that he had come to your aid, but the venom that laced his voice kept you on edge. You didn’t have to look at him to know he was enraged. You could feel how tense his muscles were behind you, and you knew Hongjoong must have been observing you in your absence and had sent Seonghwa before things got out of hand. Whether this was because they were truly upset by the way the girls had spoken to you or because they were simply telling the truth behind the daemon’s behavior, you weren’t sure. Neither option ended with a positive outcome and the image of Hak Seongmin dead in the streets ran through your mind once more.

“No, I’m fine.” You tried to wriggle your way out of his grasp, growing more panicked as the situation began to escalate. If you didn’t do something quick, someone was going to end up in major trouble. “We were just talking.”

“Oh, are these friends of yours?” Despite your attempts at escaping, his grip on you was tight, fingers digging into your hip.

“Uh-huh, we’ve been friends forever.” Hayoon’s expression shifted at his response, eyes glittering dangerously as she took full advantage of his ‘mistake’. The innocent smile batted his way all but proving she was not aware of the danger in his stance. “I came out to compliment this beautiful dress of hers; it’s just a shame she spilled her wine. She’s always been a little clumsy.”

“Is that so?” Seonghwa twirled you around to face him, free hand roaming to the front of your dress that was no soaked. You couldn’t suppress the shiver his touch against your bare skin brought, the dark glint in his eyes lightening momentarily as his finger traced against the blade of the sword etched there. “It must have just slipped.” Oh, he knew. He definitely knew. “Why don’t we get you inside to warm back up, huh, pretty? The others have been eager to see you.”

“I… Mu dress, though. I should probably-“

“Invite your friends? What a wonderful idea, angel.” His hand raised to your face, cupping your cheek with a look that shook you to your core. “I’m sure the others would love to meet them.”

“Really?” Hayoon had a hard time holding back her surprise, but she recovered quickly, shooting a smug smirk in your direction when she thought Seonghwa wasn’t looking. The twins, however, seemed a lot less interested in Seonghwa’s offer, eyeing the two of you carefully as they whispered to each other behind Hayoon. “It would be an honor, sir.”

The last thing you wanted was to go with them. You knew something was up with Seonghwa. His grip was tight enough around your waist that you were afraid it would bruise, and the smile he sent your way was strained, not even remotely reaching his eyes. He was terrifying enough as it was when you had been with him before, but it was nothing compared to the scene now, and you couldn’t suppress a shiver from coursing through you when he dragged you along after him.

Hayoon, oblivious to the tension between you and Seonghwa, attempted to strike up a conversation with him as you went. She batted her eyes and hit him with the sweetest smiles she could manage, but Seonghwa didn’t even look in her direction. And once she realized her efforts were in vain, her smiles vanished altogether, exchanged for scowls directed towards the object of his fascination, you.

It would have unnerved you if your mind hadn’t already been elsewhere. Any fear you had felt towards Hayoon and her threats, and even Seonghwa, dissipated when the person he was taking you to finally hit you. Unless he decided to be mysteriously missing once more, you were finally going to meet Hongjoong. You were finally going to meet the daemon king.

“Seonghwa, I can’t do this.” Upon hearing you speak, he leaned his head towards you to better hear you, fingers drawing you all the closer towards him. A motion Hayoon was quick to pick on beside you. “My dress, it’s ruined. I can’t go in front of him or the others like this. Just let me go home, please? I want to go home.”

“It’ll be okay, angel. It’s our fault this happened. We told you we would keep you safe, that nothing would happen to you tonight, but we failed.” As you made it to the steps, his grip tightened once more to keep you steady. “The last thing any of us cares about right now is some stupid dress.”

“But-“

“Let’s just go see the others for a bit and then we can all go home, okay?” Seonghwa’s expression did soften this time when he looked down at you. “I promise.”

You wanted to tell him that defeated the whole point of your argument. As much as you did take relief in hearing you wouldn’t have to stay here for much longer, it did nothing to relieve the fears you had confessed earlier. It did nothing to get you away from having to see him. But any argument you might have been about to voice fell away as you took sight of the group you were approaching.

Despite the fear clawing it’s way through you, your eyes were quick to lock onto Hongjoong. He sat in the middle of the group, leg propped up as he lounged and looking every bit the king he was. His hair was multicolored, black on one side and white on the other, strange, but oddly fitting of his other features.

Mingi was bent over on his right, listening to something he was saying, but popped up as Seonghwa approached with you in tow. His dark eyes ran over your figure once before stepping away, allowing Hongjoong’s full attention to be on you as he disappeared to do whatever it was he had just been tasked with.

“Your majesty, I present to you Miss l/n y/n, the Black Angel.” Seonghwa’s grip released you as he bowed before stepping away to join the others and leaving you alone before him.

Unsure of what to do or how to act, you decided the best course of action was to follow Seonghwa’s lead and lifted your skirt to fall into a deep curtsy. You didn’t trust your voice enough to speak, so you remained silent. What would you have even said if you did find the courage? The proper etiquette for a situation such as this one was unknown and foreign to you. After all, never in your life did you think a moment like this one would ever come to you. Never in your life did you think you would be face to face with the daemon king.

He was silent at first, face unreadable as he took in your shaking figure. You didn’t dare look him in his eyes and stared at the floor instead, hoping he wouldn’t be upset by the fact the dress he had given you was now beyond repair.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person, angel.” He rose from his seat to approach you, and after only ever hearing his voice inside your head before, it felt strange to hear him speak to you out loud. “As well as to finally thank you for everything you’ve done for us.” It took everything in you to not flinch when he reached for your hand, but it was impossible to control the shiver that overtook you when his lips brushed against your knuckles. “You’ve done a great service to your king and your kindness will not be left unrewarded for much longer.”

“Please, you’ve already done so much. Any service I might have done to aid you had been paid in full already. No further reward is needed.” If he really wished to reward you like he said, he could do so by answering the questions that had been haunting you for the past weeks, but you didn’t dare voice this in front of him.

“Perhaps, but that doesn’t change the fact I feel my gratitude has remained unmatched by your kindness and grace.”

His head tilted and you were acutely aware of the way your hand was still grasped firmly in his. As much as you wanted to pull it away and disappear from his intense gaze, you found yourself leaning into it all the same. His mere presence was awe-inspiring. You could feel the power rolling off of him, the intensity of it far surpassing any of his generals, and yet, as terrifying as it was, it was also… inviting. You felt bare and exposed beneath him, and yet there was still a warmth to it hidden beneath the surface, as though inviting you to let his aura fill your entire being and make you whole once more.

The trance was broken when someone cleared their throat behind you, grounding you back to reality. You were swiftly reminded of the three other girls standing behind you awaiting the introductions Seonghwa had promised them. Hongjoong also took note of it, golden eyes glancing behind your shoulder and smile faltering as he took them in.

“These are your friends, are they not?” He spit the word out, as though the mere thought of them being anything resembling it was sickening. “Go see Jongho for me, will you, angel? I’d very much like to talk to them.”

“C’mere, angel.” Jongho called out to you, extending a hand towards you. Hongjoong used the grip he still had on you to extend it in his direction without allowing you to decide for yourself if it was something you wanted. Jongho’s hand was gentle, but firm as he brought you over towards him. His eyes were darker than normal and body tense as he pulled you close to him, masking his usual bashful behavior around you.

“Your highness, it is a pleasure to meet you.” Hayoon approached first, the only one who still seemed interested in this meeting, and drew herself into a deep curtsy. “I am Ahn Hayoon. My father is the lead councilman of Maehwa.”

“My interest doesn’t lie in introductions tonight as I’m already well aware of who you are.” There was a shift in his tone, dark and commanding. Even Hayoon seemed to be taken back, not quite as smug as you expected her to be when he stated he already knew who she was. “I’m far more interested as to what happened out on the balcony earlier.”

“I apologize, but I don’t quite understand what you mean.” Her face fell, eyes flickering towards you, almost as if she was asking for your help. Asking you to back her claims up. “If you’re referring to the dress, her hand slipped.”

“Ah, yes. And please remind me, was this before or after you threatened her life?”

“What? No, I-“

“‘They’re going to kill her once they’re done with her. We’ll just be doing them a favor when we beat them to it.’ Isn’t that what you had said? That you’ll turn her over to the authorities once you’ve had your fun with her?” A smile had crossed his features, but it wasn’t the same smile he had shown you moments earlier. There was nothing kind about this one. "Tell me, just what sort of fun were you referring to?"

“What does it even matter? She’s just a mutt. You already plan on killing her once you’re done with her anyways.” Hayoon’s face was pale, but she didn’t back down, frustrated by the fact you had seemingly still been picked over her and fueled by the alcohol she had consumed. “Whatever it is that she’s done for you, she just did it to save her own skin. She’s-“

But whatever other insults she was going to throw your way was replaced by a low gurgling and her hands flew up to her neck. In a movement faster than you could properly comprehend, Hongjoong had slit her throat; the only sign he had done it was the blood now dripping off his extended claws.

“Oops, my hand slipped.” He laughed, running his tongue over one of the nails to taste the blood that now stained them. “How disappointing,” his face fell, “it’s terribly bitter.”

Your entire body froze, heart nearly stopping as you watched her body slink to the floor.

He had killed her. Just like that. No questions asked. And all for what? Because she had threatened your life? Because she had offended you?

“You fucking monster!” A few scattered screams rose up, alerting the rest of the crowd of the murder that had just taken place, but it was Hayoon's father who drew your attention. "That was my daughter!" The high councilman of Maehwa made his way across the room, collapsing to his knees next to her body with a strangled cry. He was too late though. Hayoon was nearly beyond saving now. "You!" His finger pointed straight to you, eyes glistening with tears and yet glaring at you like this was all your fault.

Was it? Was this your fault?

“Get over here and save her. That’s an order.”

You knew you needed to move. You knew you needed to listen to him and pull yourself back together and try something to save her. She was gone, you knew that, but you couldn't just stand there and do nothing either. But no matter how much you screamed at your legs to move, you were frozen in your spot, paralyzed by fear. Your eyes were glued to the blood dripping off Hongjoong's hand, wondering why you had ever let your guard down around him. Why had you ever let your guard down around any of them? They were killers. You knew that. You had seen it.

Oh, god. Was Hayoon right? Were you next?

"Oh, that's an order?" Hongjoong bent down to match the man's eye level, head tilting to the side as though them ordering you to do anything for them was ridiculous. He grabbed the councilman's chin with his hand, bloody claws still extended and digging into his skin. "And what will you do after she saves your daughter's life, hm? What gratitude will you show her? A noose, perhaps? For taking the precious attention you and your daughter so desperately craved? You pigs make me fucking sick."

While the majority of the crowd watched the scene unfold in horor, glued to their spots in a similar fashion as yourself, a few attendees had made an attempt to escape through one of the two doorways leading out. But despite them remaining open, something was blocking them from leaving. Something invisible. Something that left their pounding fists bouncing back off uselessly.

"This woman has saved thousands of your soldiers and citizens and what have you done to show your appreciation, huh? What have you done to thank her?" Hongjoong dropped the councilman's head in disgust, standing to address the crowd. "She risked her life countless times to ensure the soldiers you left for dead had a second chance at life. Stayed up countless nights to brew the potions you took to save your own and not a single ounce of gratitude was ever shown her way. You punished her for the smallest of crimes. Claimed she was poisoning you. called her every derogatory name you could think of, treated her like she was less than you. You would let her die without a second thought, and yet, despite it all, she still worked tirelessly to help you. But that all changes tonight. Tonight, you'll pay for your crimes."

"C'mon, angel. Let's get you out of here." Jongho began to pull you away, guiding you to the stairs behind you.

"Why? What's going to happen?" You struggled up the stairs after him, nearly tripping on your skirts at his quick strides. You legs still struggled to move, the scene of Hayoon grasping at her throat repeating over and over again. If it wasn't for his tight grip on your waist, you though you would very well collapse. "What are you going to do?"

Your eyes glanced behind you as you traversed the upper level to the main door, unable to hear anything else Hongjoong was saying over the panicked crowd around you.

You didn't like Hayoon. Hell, if you were truly being honest, you would even say you hated Hayoon. Hated her for the way she had treated you. Maybe you had even wished she would known what it felt like to be the one on the other side, to get a small taste of her medicine, if just a little, but that hadn't meant you had wanted her to die.

"Nothing that you need to worry about. All you need to know is that you're safe with us now. None of these pigs will ever harm you again."

Jongho weaved his way through the crowd effortlessly, and the invisible barrier that had kept them from leaving had no effect on you as he guided you through the doorway with ease.

Jongho closed the doors to the hall once you were through, shutting out the noise of the room behind you. He seemed to breathe easier now that you were both out and motioned for a nearby daemon guard to grab your cloak before the two of you stepped outside. His shoulders were still tense, but his grip on you had lightened, fingers no longer digging into your skin.

"What the hell is happening, Jongho?" You pulled away from him as you found your strength once more, eyes narrowing. You didn't know what madness they had planned, but you knew nothing good was about to go down on the other side of those doors. Whatever it was, it was something they didn't want you to see. Something they didn't want you to know about. "Where are you taking me?"

"Has it... has it really always been like that for you?" Despite your obvious frustration, his gaze softened as he took you in, no longer in a hurry now that he had gotten you out of the main hall.

"What are you talking about?" You tilted your head, slightly caught off guard by his sudden change in topic.

"That girl. She treated you so horribly, even in front of Hongjoong, And the others..." His words were soft as he tried to reach for you once more, but you stepped back from him before his hand could touch, causing it to just fall short. "I could hear what they were saying about you. What everyone was saying about you. You've saved so many of their lives, and yet, the only gratitude they seem to show you is to allow you to keep breathing."

"So? It's nothing new." Your arms crossed, attempting indifference. "I've been treated like that since I was born. That's the price you pay when you're someone like me. You should know that. It's not like the daemons have ever treated us any better. Or has the fact you just kill us when we're born blinded you to the way we're treated when we're allowed to live?

"This," you motioned to your figure as you continued, to the dress that still adorned your body and the castle you were still standing in. "This isn't me, Jongho. This dress, this party, the people. None of this is me. They never have been and they never will be. Not for someone of my status. It's just the way that it's always been. It's the way it will always be. Hayoon knew that and you killed her for it."

Oh, god, why had they killed her?

"She was going to have you killed, angel."

"That didn't mean you had to kill her!" Your arms wrapped tighter around your body, unable to suppress the shiver that racked your body as your mind replayed the scene once more. "I didn't want you to kill her."

"I'm sorry, angel, truly, but she resigned herself to her own fate. You're under our protection and anyone who threatens the lives of those under the golden crown are punished with death. Hongjoong had no choice but to-"

"Choice? There's always choice." You spit back. "The law said I should have just let Seonghwa die, and yet I chose not to. So don't tell me you didn't have a choice. The only one who doesn't have a choice here, is me." You were done playing the nice and safe act. You were done playing their game. "So, what the hell is going on? And don't give me the fucking Hongjoong excuse. I want answers. Now."

"And you'll get them, angel, I promise. Let's just get you home and out of that dress. You can take a bath to calm down and change into something more comfortable, okay? And then we can talk. How does that sound?"

You shook your head. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"I know you're upset, y/n, and I can understand your frustrations, but will you please just come with me? I really don't want to have to force you back to camp."

You would have laughed at the irony of his words if it wasn't for the fact they had swiftly reminded you of the fact your siblings were still inside. In the midst of your panic, you had all but forgotten about Soomin and Hyunwoo, and your breath caught at the thought of them still being in there. Of something happening to them.

You scrambled back to the door, fingers prying at the handle to open it back up, but Jongho stopped your movements before just as it started moving.

"Let me go!" You struggled against his grasp, fighting to get back to the door. "My siblings are still in there!"

"y/n, please. You don't need to go back in there. Your siblings are fine. Mingi escorted them out a few minutes before we left. They'll be waiting for you back at camp when we return."

This made you stop. "They're at the camp?"

"Of course. We know how much they mean to you." Jongho smiled, taking advantage of your shocked state to let his fingers brush along your cheek, fully taking in your wide-eyed expression. "So, what do you say? Shall we head back and join them? The others will follow once they've finished taking care of a few things."

"If I agree, you'll answer my questions, right? You'll tell me what's going on?"

"You'll have to wait until Hongjoong returns, but yes. He promises to answer any and every question you might have for us." Jongho nodded, taking the cloak the guard had brought back and wrapping it around your body for you. "Is that okay, angel?"

You hated the sincerity he was showing you. How could he treat you with such softness after what had just happened? After everything they had done? Acting like he hadn't just willingly let his king murder someone and then following through with his orders without batting an eye. Acting like he was innocent in all this. Hongjoong may have killed Hayoon, but he was just as guilty for the role he had played.

Damn hypocrite.

Jongho flinched, making you half-wonder if he had just heard what you had called him in your head. Based on the frown that tugged at his lips, you assumed he had, but felt no ounce of guilt for it. After all, if he didn't want to hear how frustrated you were at him and the others right now, he shouldn't have gone digging through your mind.

"You already know the answer to that," you began your reply to his earlier statement, ignoring the pained expression that had crossed his face as you pushed past him to start the long walk back. "After all, we both know I don't have a choice."

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