#it's so hard to come up with like...good content when the weather is gross and i don't stay outside longer than necessary lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dfortrafalgar · 9 months ago

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Hiii! I'm so happy you are taking requests! I love the way you write, everything feels so real! I'm loving ILY and it's a bittersweet feeling now that it is ending (I'm the anon that commented early on saying that it was so relatable because I also had a miscarriage at 6 weeks). Thank you for that fic 🥰🤗

Now, my requests, if you choose to take it! I would love a jealous/protective Law X fem reader. I was thinking, no established relationship but some flirting going on, perhaps. Could be SFW or NSFW, it's up to you! I would just really loooooove some protective Law! I'm also obsessed with his hands so you can do whatever with that 😂

Did I mention that I love your writting? I did? I'll do it again. Thank you for sharing your gift! ❤️

I'm in annon but you can call me R.J. 😋😎

AAA HELLO R.J im so happy to hear from you again!!!!! no lie ive been thinking about you every day, your first message during my story was so amazingly sweet and touching and i havent been able to stop thinking about it, im so happy that you loved the end of the fic and to hear that you're doing well!!! <333

i ended up projecting a bit in this fic... and it ended up being a bit more Protective Law rather than Jealous Law, but i hope you like it all the same! i also juggled on nsfw, but decided that sfw worked better for this specific plot, so i hope that's alright!!!

thank you so much for requesting!!!! 💗❤️💓💕

Decontaminate the Heart

Law x Fem Reader

Your feelings toward Law had gone from a reasonable level of respect to a deep infatuation that you were readily keeping hidden. An unfortunate encounter with a predatory shopkeep might be what unravels your feelings... and the feelings of your captain.

Warnings: some descriptions of gross behavior from a stranger, light fluff, pre-relationship vibes, protective law but also struggling-to-accept-his-feelings awkward law

Law wasn’t fond of the word ‘jealous.’ After all, he was a seasoned veteran in the long game of Keeping All Human Emotions Bottled Up Inside So That You Don’t Show Weakness To Those Who Might Be Out To Hurt You. He had become a pro at it, too. After all, putting a word to an undefined emotion only validated that feeling, which was exactly the opposite of what Law needed. Mouth constantly downturned in a pensive frown, steely, cold eyes shutting down all encounters with those he deemed unfamiliar or even the slightest bit threatening, holding even his closest friends at arm’s length on good days. If he wasn’t the strong-willed, feared captain of the Heart Pirates, a man with a three billion beri bounty on his head, then who was he?

The answer is: a loser. He was a loser. Especially after he brought you on board his crew as a boatswain. That day, he unwillingly began the downward spiral that would transform into his emotional demise. A psychic catastrophe. An inner turmoil of the highest degree.

Ikkaku called it infatuation. Bepo called it love. The rest of his raunchy, stifled male crew called it being horny.

Whatever it was, it had Law in a steel trap, never letting go.

And on a particularly warm, sunny day, docked cliffside on an island with idyllic spring weather, his steel trap was donned in a flowy sundress that complimented her entire outward appearance in a way he didn’t think was humanly possible. When she first greeted Law before they departed the Polar Tang, she had bent down slightly, holding her hands together in front of her and pushing her biceps together just enough that her cleavage was on center stage for just a brief moment. She had giggled at the way Law’s face flushed with a crimson hue. Unprovoked… but not necessarily unappreciated.

Days for leisure were hard to come by as a pirate, so the crew was sure to take full advantage of the opportunities that crossed your path. The pirates were given the freedom to roam to their heart’s content, so long as they didn’t cause trouble. “Stress-free activities are crucial to maintaining good cardiac health,” Law would say. But everyone knew he enjoyed some sparring days off just as much as any average bloke.

Especially when those days off were spent in your company.

“Thank you for coming with me, Captain!” you quipped, your voice cheerful as you walked beside him, a small paper bag clutched in your hand, containing a small product you had just purchased from one of the local shops. The entire crew had shed their usual boiler suits for the day in exchange for more casual attire, you taking the opportunity to don the sundress that you had purchased a few months ago with Ikkaku. “I’m always happy when you take days off to get out of that stuffy office of your’s.”

Law fought tooth and nail to keep the pleased smirk that twitched his lips from showing on his face. He already needed to duel with his wandering eyes which kept itching to gaze at the way your breasts fit into the bodice of your light, flowy gown. “Of course, it’s nice to get out sometimes.” ‘With you,’ he added in his head before quickly balling up the thought into a crumpled mess and chucking it into a garbage pail. The worst part about all of this, unrelated to walking side-by-side with you (which was the complete opposite of a bad thing), was the fact that he was pressured to leave Kikoku behind on the Polar Tang. He felt naked without his sword perched on his right shoulder.

Your eyes were eagerly glancing between the storefronts that surrounded you on both sides, happy townspeople window shopping with their families and loved ones, partaking in the outdoor food markets, and spending quality time in the sun. The domestic bliss of days like this always made your soul feel lighter, your footsteps almost floating off the ground. A few couples passed by, their hands intertwined and souls combining with bliss, a sight that made Law’s own fingers twitch with the deep-seeded need to grasp your hand. Every once in a while, your own fingers would tingle with the desire to reach out for him as well.

He wouldn’t hold your hand because of affection, Law told himself. It was just to make sure other people knew you were off limits.

Was that because of affection? Was he even entitled to such a thought?

He stifled a frustrated groan. “Are you looking for something?” he asked curiously, picking up on the way your gleaming eyes darted to and fro.

“There was a shop I read about in the latest paper that I could have sworn was on this island…” you muttered, bringing your free hand up to nervously stroke the skin of your cheek. After a few more moments, your face lit up as your eyes landed on a shop tucked away between two larger markets, almost completely hidden from public view. “Found it!”

Law’s heart almost leapt out of his throat when you subconsciously snatched his hand, yanking him out of the flow of people on the street and towards the storefront. His stern golden eyes flashed up towards the sign above the front door.

‘WILD BILL’S PAWN SHOP’

“You read about this somewhere?” he asked, his voice revealing a level of skepticism as you stopped in front of the front door. A dingy, beat-up ‘OPEN’ sign carved into a plank of birch wood and hanging from a rusty chain was flipped outward toward the street, beckoning townsfolk inside to peruse whatever wares were contained within the unassuming wooden shack.

You excitedly nodded. “Yup, I was looking for places that might sell rare coins.”

Law’s breath caught in his throat. “But you don’t collect coins.”

“I was looking for you!” you called out, flashing him a smile that could have easily put him in an early grave. So much for being conscious of his heart health. With the way his organ was hammering behind his sternum, he had half a mind to be worried about spontaneous cardiac arrest.

Instead of responding, all he could muster was a quiet, pensive, “Hmm.”

You finally released his hand (his palm felt so cold now), and pushed open the thin wooden door to enter the shop. An obnoxious, ear-piercing bell chimed above the hinges, alerting any other shoppers or employees of your entrance. Law always hated gimmicks like that, they were a pirate’s worst nightmare. Instantly, the smell of centuries old dust and mildew flooded Law’s nose, making him suppress a sneeze into the collar of his shirt. He was about to make a snide remark about being susceptible to allergens, but kept his lips sealed when an amused giggle emitted from your lips at the way his face contorted with mild disgust.

He blindly followed you to the back of the store, past dusty shelves containing books from all walks of life, old technology that Law had never even seen before, and antiques from across the globe. Your expression remained one of wonder as you passed by each new item, gazing fondly at some of the more sentimental goods- boxes of old postcards, old newspapers from decades prior, wanted posters for pirates long deceased. For such a ratty-looking establishment, the variety of wares this ‘Wild Bill’ had on hand was quite impressive. In the very back of the store, a long glass case spanning almost the entire length of the wall was situated, separating a back room from the rest of the establishment. There was a small space to walk around behind the case in between the wall, where small sliding doors were built in to allow someone to remove the wares kept safe inside.

Law’s eyes finally lit up in wonder.

A plethora of fine metalwork was kept in the special enclosure, jewelry with the finest minerals and perfectly sculpted details in precious velvet boxes, metal treasures surely passed down through generations of wealth, and in the nearest corner, an assortment of collectable, commemorative coins from across the world. You smiled to yourself as Law drifted toward the coins, crouching down on his calves to more closely inspect what the shop had to offer.

He was so adorable.

“Can I help you folks with anything?” a voice from behind you asked, startling you from your affectionate daze.

A larger, older man emerged from behind one of the tall bookshelves, his hands in his pockets. He was dressed surprisingly gaudy, a bright purple overcoat that traveled past his rump covering a sky-blue button-up shirt and a polka dot bowtie. His belly was quite large, a curled handlebar mustache perched atop his upper lip. He looked wildly out of place in such a modest, dusty shop. Must be Wild Bill.

You flashed a cordial smile. “Just looking around!”

The sound of your talking alerted Law, who stayed crouched in front of the coin collection but tossed accusatory glares over his shoulder, assessing the man’s interactions with you under an analytical gaze. Out of instinct, as a pirate. As a captain. Nothing more… probably.

“Well, let me know if you need help finding anything!” the man hollered, his receding hairline making the dim light of the nearby lamps reflect off his oily skin. He stepped behind the glass containers with a small huff and disappeared into the back room, a curtain swooping closed behind him.

With the outrageous stranger gone, Law resumed looking over the fine details of each coin housed within their own individual boxes, while you approached the other end of the glass case and examined the jewelry.

Your eyes darted excitedly between pieces. Delicate rings with rare gemstones sat perfectly in their boxes, some dated as old as centuries ago. A bracelet that was assembled with the finest minerals, gleaming brightly through the dim atmosphere of the shop. As your eyes continued to dart from one object to the next, you finally found yourself entranced by one thing in particular. It was a necklace, more of a choker than a longer-hanging piece, with a small purple amethyst mounted elegantly in the center of a silver pendant. The complimentary silver chain seemed to be fairly heavy duty just as it was delicate enough to still be an elegant accessory. You felt a smile pull at your lips. You doubted you had enough beri to afford it, but you’d be damned if you couldn’t at least try it on.

Wild Bill once again appeared from behind the curtain after a few moments, placing a few items on top of the counter to be placed inside the glass enclosure. Law watched as the old man’s gaze turned to you as you bent over, tucking your dress behind your knees to crouch down and get a closer look at the amethyst necklace.

“Anything caught your eye, missy?” Bill asked, his voice far too loud for such a small shop as he leaned over the top of the counter and gazed through the transparent surface at the pieces you were admiring. A seemingly friendly smile adorned his pudgy face.

You enthusiastically nodded. “Yes, actually, can I try on this necklace?” Your finger pointed through the protective barrier toward your interest. “The one with the small amethyst pendant.”

Law kept watching your interaction out of the corner of his eye.

“Of course, of course!” boomed Bill, bending over and sliding the door of the case open to remove the necklace, holding it by the chain in his large, burly hand.

Without being asked, he stepped out from behind the counter and approached you from behind, unclasping the chain and looping it around your neck. Law watched, his leg muscles tensing as you visibly stiffened at the proximity of the man as he clasped the chain together around your neck. He pulled over a small standing mirror to have you admire the piece that sat elegantly between your collarbones. Your fingers ghosted over the gemstone embedded in the fine silver, a small smile ghosting over your lips.

“It looks absolutely beautiful,” you whispered.

Bill stepped closer, almost pinning you from behind against the counter. His large hands rested against the glass case, caging you in. “It does… fitting for a beautiful woman such as yourself.”

The air went ice cold as Law watched the man’s hand wander upward, trailing across your forearm and up toward your bicep, across your shoulder and to your neck. Your face had quickly contorted into an expression of terror, having been caged against the counter all of a sudden against your will, being caressed by this stranger. Law felt frozen. His brain was screaming at him to move, to do something, to get you out of this shop as soon as possible. But he couldn’t move. Why couldn’t he move?

“I’m sorry, I think I’m going to pass, actually,” you uttered, trying to push yourself away from him. Your voice had quickly grown shaky, apprehensive.

“No, no, it really does suit you!” Bill murmured, his head angling downward, predatory eyes gazing over the soft skin of your neck. The way he kept you pinned against the counter prevented you from moving away from him. His belly was almost pushed flush against your back, making your hands tremble in fear.

“ROOM.”

A flash of blue light engulfed the surrounding area. You immediately breathed a sigh of mild relief. A static sensation permeated the space around you, making goosebumps rise across your skin and the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. Just as soon as the bubble surrounded you, the predatory man was replaced with your captain standing protectively behind you, his lean hand on your shoulder to keep you steady.

Now he’d done it.

“You’re…” Bill stammered, his own hands shaking with realization. “I’ve seen that ability, you’re… you’re…!”

Law didn’t give him time to fully realize who’s identity he was dealing with before his hand was in yours, forcefully dragging you out of the shop, harshly pushing between narrow shelves of delicate antiques until the two of you burst back out into the sunlight. Law didn’t let up his pace, your feet barely keeping you steady as you ran. Onlookers stepped back, shocked gasps and wide eyes following the two of you in your mad scramble back to the cliff where the submarine was kept concealed. He just needed to get you some place secure. Somewhere where you could wash away the phantom grime of the hands that had just touched you.

What a bad day to leave his sword behind.

The two of you had just barely made it past the outskirts of the port town when you tripped, slamming into Law’s backside and falling to your knees with a pained grunt. The shoes you were wearing definitely weren’t built for mad sprints through a town.

“Shit…” Law grumbled, crouching down in front of you. “Are you alright?”

Your hands were still shaking, anxiously palming the dirt and grass beneath your fingers as your lungs heaved, desperate to catch up on the oxygen you lost in your frantic sprint. Small tears brimmed in the corners of your eyes, but you were quick to blink them away. Your heart was pounding madly in your chest, your brain a fuzzy mess of scrambled, panicked thoughts that couldn’t make sense in any order. Law was so close to you, so close you could almost smell the mild soap he used in the shower. Something woody. Mellow. So very him. You wanted to hug him. The stress of the sudden incident was rapidly catching up to you.

Instead, the only thing you managed to do was blurt out an awkward, weary, “Thank you.”

Law wordlessly helped you to your feet, walking you back to the Polar Tang. His mouth was drawn in that pensive line once more.

—

It took a few hours for you to register the fact that you had sprinted out of the pawn shop with the necklace still clasped around your neck. When you took it off, you held it gently in your hands, gazing at the way the brilliant purple gem was nestled perfectly in the metal sculpted around it. But the fingerprints around the chain from the predatory man who groped you left a phantom burning pain on your skin. You still loved the piece, you truly did, and you wished you could wear it, but you felt violated. There was no denying it.

You needed to scrub it clean. You needed to scrub your own body clean, it seemed.

Law was in the medical bay when you carefully knocked on the door, hoping that no one was in there with him. The tired sounding, ‘Come in,’ granted you permission to gently push the heavy hatch door open, stepping into the dim lighting and closing the entrance behind you.

Your captain was in the midst of re-organizing the entire medicine cabinet, floor to ceiling. He did it when he was stressed.

“Yeah?” was all he asked when you entered, barely looking away from his obsessive work while you stood awkwardly in the doorway, holding your necklace in your cupped hands like it was a suspicious specimen to be brought to a lab.

“I know this is a weird request, but can you disinfect this?” you asked.

You held up the necklace by the very end of the chain, dangling it in the air away from you. Law finally turned his attention toward you, an eyebrow raised.

“Why?” He sounded genuinely oblivious to why you would ask for such a favor.

You rocked back and forth on your heels. “It still feels like it has the fingerprints of that guy. From the shop,” you clarified. When you said it out loud, you grimaced at how childish you sounded, but at the same time, you felt your concerns, your insecurities over what had transpired, were justified.

You were violated. Case closed.

It seemed Law picked up on that as well. As much as he struggled to put himself in other peoples’ shoes, he could see the anxious look in your eyes that told him everything he needed to know- you wanted to wash away all traces of the man who burst your personal bubble in one of the worst ways imaginable.

Law felt a searing jealousy in his chest, the sudden reminder of the way your face contorted in utter horror as you were touched.

Your captain wordlessly stepped forward and gently took the chain from your fingers. You watched him silently as he stepped back toward the counter, rummaging through the supplies he had laid out mid-organizing before procuring an opaque bottle of rubbing alcohol and filling a small container about halfway with the solution before submerging your necklace inside. He capped the bottle and placed it back where he found it, amongst his other disinfectant chemicals.

“We’ll let that sit for a few minutes,” he suggested. “In the meantime, I have these wet napkins you can use to clean your neck, if you want.”

He took the words right out of your head, as if he could read your mind. You gratefully accepted the small container of alcohol wipes, starting with your neck and rubbing the cold solution down your collarbones, chest, and arms. You didn’t care if it would dry out your skin later, the feeling of wiping away that man’s fingerprints in some capacity was more freeing than anything else in the world.

Law simply watched, glancing away from you every once in a while when you turned at an angle that would let you see him staring wanton daggers in your direction. He shouldn’t be watching you scrub yourself down while fully clothed, if anything that could also be a violation of your unspoken privacy.

After what felt like hours, you finally disposed of the wipes in the nearby waste receptacle while Law fished out your necklace with a gloved hand, placing it on a dry cloth and carefully removing all the liquid from the surface of the metal.

He started speaking without thinking. “Silver and amethyst are sturdy materials that can be placed in rubbing alcohol for disinfecting,” he stated. “If this was some other weaker gem, like an emerald, it wouldn’t be so easy.”

You grinned, stepping closer as he polished the chain. His hand that wasn’t gloved carefully moved along the cloth, outlining the shape of the necklace folded under it in precise, delicate motions.

Goodness, you loved his hands.

“So you’re as good with rocks and minerals as you are with health science?” you asked, a small, playful smirk on your lips.

Law’s own mouth twitched upward. “I suppose so.” He gently unfolded the cloth and removed the necklace. “There, all clean.”

You grinned appreciatively, turning around and brushing away any obstacles in the way of your neck.

He stared at you from behind your back. “... What are you doing?” he asked dumbly.

You tossed a glance over your shoulder. “Waiting for you to put it on.”

Law chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you confirmed. “I trust you.”

What you didn’t say was just how much you trusted him. You would willingly lay down your life for your captain, the love for him, both as a person and as a pirate, greatly surpassing that of a captain and his subordinate. Sometimes, well, most of the time, you desperately hoped that he felt the same way.

After understanding your request, Law stepped toward you slightly, one hand still gloved as he looped the necklace around the front of your neck, bringing both ends of the chain around the back to clasp at the base of your spine. His deft, inked fingers left scorching hot trails in their wake, your skin craving his touch. The complete opposite of your counter in the pawn shop.

Once secured, you turned around to face him, a pleased smile on your face as your fingers once again ghosted over the delicate, purple mineral embedded into the pendant. “How does it look?”

Law prayed that the blush on his cheeks wasn’t noticeable through the dim lighting on the medical bay. He would put necklaces on your soft skin every day if you’d let him.

Oh, how he wished you’d let him.

“It looks great…” he mumbled, his voice soft and apprehensive. “It suits you.”

His voice, the anxious tilt of his eyebrows, spoke volumes to you as your smile grew wider. “Hey, Law?”

He turned his attention back to you, his lips pressed firmly together.

“Thank you for protecting me back there,” you sighed. Your voice had gone quiet, but the look on your face was indebted.

“Of course,” he whispered back. His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, his brain clearly struggling to say the words he so desperately wanted to say.

The sight had you suppressing a giggle as you stepped forward, fighting back your reservations as you wrapped your arms around his torso in a hug, dropping your head into the crook of his shoulder and inhaling that scent that was oh-so familiar to you. Disinfectant and oil, so clearly from living life on the Polar Tang, but also so distinctly him.

You loved it.

You were starting to come to the conclusion that you really loved him.

And with the way Law’s arms slowly wrapped around your own body, the hands you loved so much resting between your shoulder blades and the lowest point of your back, you started to wonder if he secretly, deep down in that weary heart of his, felt the same way about you.

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #op x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #request fics

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gay-wh0re-slut · 8 months ago

Note

rhea smut where rhea and reader get into a petty argument (that's not even serious they're both just stubborn) and they decide instead of arguing they take their anger/tension out on eachother by fucking? (this is really just an excuse for bottom rhea again...)

omg yes i can bc im a stubborn ass bitch too hahahaha

(((also sorry this has taken me so long to do but thank you for the request <3)))

Bath Time

rhea x fem!reader

content: rhea flashes her big blue eyes… oh SHES GETTING IT and by getting it i mean fingering, oral, slight edging, hot sexy times

You hear the front door open, footsteps and two sets paws clacking on the hard wood floor, door closing and locking back. Sitting on the kitchen counter eating some cereal, Rhea finally comes into view, unhooking Barry and Luna from their leashes.

“Oh,” she said a little shocked, “good morning!”

“Morning, love,” you kicked your feet slightly. “How was the walk?”

“The weather was so nice, but because of the rain last night there were…some puddles,” she pointed at Barry.

You look to the terrier and see that his paws and legs were covered with dirt. Your mouth dropped but quickly closed once you looked at Luna, she was completely dry, typical.

“I tried to wipe him off as best I could before we came in but he just thought I was playing with him,” her big shoulders shrugged.

“Of course,” you giggled, “well it is your turn to give him a bath.”

It took her a second to process what you said as she was putting the leashes on the hooks by the garage door, “w-what?”

“I did it last time he got all gross, so it’s your turn,” you repeated.

“No no no no, I specifically remember him splashing the hell outta me because I had to take an extra long time getting the mud off of him from the last time it poured down and we let him out the back,” she walked towards you with her hands on her hips. Her booty shorts, big tshirt and little messy bun weren’t helping her look scary.

You took your last bite and put the bowl in the sink, “no that was the time before mine because I have snapchat memory proof of the last time he took a bath because I did it. He was doing surprisingly well so I decided to take a bubble picture, remember?”

She thought for a split second, “no, that was before the fiasco happened when I was doing it. I had to pee so bad that I asked you to watch him and then he got too excited to see me again that he jumped in the water!”

You could tell she was getting a little frustrated but you knew you were right. “Yes, I remember that, but I gave him a bath when you were at a show. I posted it on my instagram stories too, Dom even said ‘wow he’s acting right for once!’ So I for sure did it last time, so it’s definitely your turn,” you crossed your arms in satisfaction, thinking you finally won.

She bowed her head and squeezed the bridge of her nose, “I don’t remember that.”

“Well, it’s true,” you leaned your hands on the counter, kicking your feet again as you leaned into her gaze, hoping that she would give in anyway, even though you were definitely correct.

She finally looked at you, “don’t look at me like that,” she huffed.

You bit your lip ever so slightly, “like what? I’m not doing anything!” You knew exactly what you were doing.

She sighed as she looked at the ceiling. You knew it was hard for her to get mad at you because you never did anything wrong in her eyes. She looked back down at you and finally pushed her way between your legs, “baby,” she said in her gravelly voice.

“Noooo, don’t do that,” you stopped her almost immediately.

“Baby,” her hands grazed along your outer thighs as she looked up at you, “please, I’ll do… the dishes for the week or take out the trash or-”

“Stop it,” it was hard to tell her no because of the overwhelming power she had over you but you couldn’t let her win this time, “you know I’m right or you wouldn’t be doing this,” you avoided eye contact because if you did look at her eyes, it would be over.

“Oh c’mon,” her tattooed hands slowly moved up your torso under your shirt, “we can take a shower after.”

Still refusing to look at her, “I can take a shower by myself, thank you.”

“But it would be so much better if I was with you,” her nails were gently scratching at your back sending chills down your spine, “c’mon,” she whispered, “look at me.”

You crossed your arms and looked up at the ceiling dramatically with a big sigh, “no, because this happens every time, but I’m winning this one,” you huffed.

She left soft kisses on your arms, but you pulled away, only after letting her get a few in.

“You know it’s your turn or you wouldn’t be acting this way and you know it!”

Her soft growl came through, “why won’t you look at me?” completely ignoring what you have been saying.

“I can’t, Rhea,” you said annoyed, “and you know that.”

She let that sit in the air for a minute thinking of what to say next. Though you weren’t looking at her directly you could tell that she was seething and it made you feel satisfied. Even though it was a little toxic, you loved when she got upset because that either meant that she put you in your place or you got your way. You didn’t let this happen often though because then you knew that would be too much, but when it did, it was so fun.

Tricking you, one of her hands gently slid out from under your shirt and glided up your chest, to your shoulder, to the back of your neck, but then the mood quickly changed when she flung her hand around grabbed your face forcefully, pulling your head down to finally look at her.

“Let’s make a deal,” her eyes flashed dark, staring into yours.

Your heart pounded as she pulled you closer, unfolding your arms to brace yourself on the counter. You were about to speak but she started again.

“Whoever…finishes first, has to give him a bath,” an evil grin grew on her face.

“And what does that mean?” you asked knowing exactly what that meant.

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” her grip tightened slightly.

You pulled your head out of her grip by grabbing her wrist and squeezing it, causing her to loosen her fingers. You yanked her closer to you looking down at her, which you never got to do because she was a bit taller than you, and gave her an evil grin back, “You can’t even last a second under me.”

Her facial expression changed immediately when you pulled her closer to you, scared but intrigued. Her eyes widened at your dig, but quickly changed back to sinful, “I could say the same about you, princess,” she gave you a wicked grin as she yanked back her arm.

“I’d like to see you try,” you growled.

She took a deep breath, glaring back at you. In what seemed like half of a second, she pulled your hips towards her and picked you up off the counter. She flung you over her shoulder, fireman style, and carried you to the bedroom. You gently writhed and kicked as she walked through the house but she smacked your ass to calm you down…it didn’t help.

Once inside the room she closed the door to keep the dogs out, then turned around and slammed you on the bed. It literally took your breath away but you didn’t care. She ripped her shirt off and threw into oblivion as she crawled on top of you, immediately starting to kiss over your body. You loved when she touched you no matter what kind, but you knew you couldn’t let this go on for long.

So you let her go for a minute longer, letting her think that the small moans and sighs were a sign of you losing the bet. Taking a deep breath and gathering all your strength, you pushed her to the side of you and climbed on top of her. Blue eyes widened at the sudden change. “Don’t think you’re winning this one, Ripley,” you knew she could never back down from a challenge.

“Wanna bet?” she said right before flipping you back over to the first position.

You grunted in disappointment because obviously she was stronger than you. She went back to leaving a trail of gentle kisses on your exposed skin as her hands found the hem of your shirt, pulling it up slowly, teasing you.

It was working, and you hated it. You were going to win. But…you also loved it so you reveled in it for a little while, letting her cherish you before you ultimately took over. She carefully pulled your arms causing you to sit up, then quickly took your shirt off throwing it into the same oblivion. Landing one of her hands on your now bare shoulder as the other gripped your hair, pulling your head to one side exposing your neck. You swore you saw her eyes turn red as she dove into you, nipping and sucking at your skin.

Gentle moans and whimpers asking for more fell out of you with ease. The hand on your shoulder moved down to your breast, tightly squeezing it before moving to your chest to push you back down with a little force. You huffed as you landed, looking up at her. Her strong tattooed legs straddling your hips, her chest heaving quickly as she looked over you as if she was going to eat you alive. She raked a hand through her hair, licking her teeth. An evil smile grew on her face, you could’ve folded right then but you didn’t, you can’t let her win.

“You look so…helpless,” she whispered almost laughing.

Your brow furrowed at her as your eyes squinted in fake anger, knowing she didn’t actually mean it, she just wanted to get a rise out of you. She did this often when she wanted you to fight back. And you loved it.

“Aw, did that hit a nerve?”

“Never,” you said but caught her by surprise as you hooked a leg around the front of her torso and pushed her back as you sat up copying her pose above her. She looked genuinely shocked that you could do that.

“Where the fuck did you learn that?” her voice was shaky. You got her.

“Watching you,” you said nonchalantly. Finally you were in charge, but surprisingly, she didn’t stop you.

You genuinely didn’t think you would get this far though you had all that confidence, so you hesitated for a second before you decided on what to do next. You cupped her face, gently caressing it with your thumb which led to you gliding it over her lips. She voluntarily opened her mouth, giving you the idea to put it in, “close,” was all you needed to say and she followed orders. Her tongue swirled over your finger with her piercing clinking on your nail, followed by her giving it a good suck. Finally letting her go, she opened her mouth letting it fall out gently sliding off of her tongue.

Wiping your thumb in the process, you traced your hand down the center of her chest. Once it reached her tight sports bra, you caressed one of her breasts, toying with her piercing underneath. Now both hands were tugging at the elastic trying to get it off.

“Oh please,” she huffed as she sat up and took it off for you throwing it to the other clothing, “better?” as she laid back down.

“Someone’s eager to lose,” you cooed.

“Watch your mouth, princess. I’m just letting you get some licks in before I take over,” she rolled her eyes.

“As if you don’t like when I’m on top,” you squinted.

“Shut up,” was all she could say. You knew you were right, as much as she liked being the dominant one, she loved being taken care of once in a while.

You rolled your eyes in response as you dive down to her chest. You began leaving sloppy kisses all over her now bare skin. You traced your tongue up her chest to her neck, ending at her ear. You gave it a small bite, “now look who’s helpless,” you whispered. You gave a good bite on her neck causing her to whine loudly, grabbing at your hips for support.

You chuckled at her response. Going down once more, leaving a trail of kisses, nips and bites, you shimmied your hips further down her legs as you went. Listening to her small but deep moans could send you over the edge easily but you didn’t dare to venture that far.

As you snuck your way down her toned torso, you grabbed the waistband of her black booty shorts and dragged them down with you. She voluntarily lifted her hips letting you pull them off of her. You struggled a bit because of how tight they were but she didn’t seem to mind too much.

You hummed at the sight of her, “you’re so pretty.” The pace so far was intense and fast but as soon as those shorts hit the floor and you saw her sprawled in front of you, a switch went off in your hand to slow things down.

“You’d look prettier with your face between my legs,” she blurted out above you. Shocked at what she said but also a little pleased.

“Oh so eager,” you caressed your hands up her tattooed thighs slowly. Taking your sweet time, sometimes dragging your nails on her skin just to watch the goosebumps form. You got very close to her center more than a few times but didn’t want to give her that satisfaction just yet. You took one last trip around the skin of her legs before forcing them open. You situated yourself on your knees between her strong legs that could choke you out at any second, but that wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing, you thought.

“Please do something before I take over. You’re not gonna win at this pace,” she scoffed out of fake boredom.

“So you know I’m right!”

“N-no, that’s not what I said, I sai-”

“No I heard you, don’t worry though, I’m still gonna win no matter what,” you giggled as you finally dove down to pick up the pace again. Without any warm up or the chance for her to give you a snarky comment in response you swiped your tongue up her center.

“Fuck!” her back arched for a split second.

You let out a soft chuckle. Repositioning yourself on your stomach and slinking your arms under her beefy thighs for leverage, you continued to lap at her core. Her hands for their way to your head gripping at your hair. “You should really let me do this more often,” you kissed her thigh looking up at her writhing. The sight of her was so pleasing.

“Shut up!” she snarled but you loved it. She pushed you further into her, wanting more.

You were surprised that she was helping you win because you both knew this was a game but deep down, you knew how to play it better than her. You’ve studied for this, worked your way around her likes and dislikes. You wanted- no, needed to win just to prove that you were right.

As you were lapping her up and thinking of all the ways to get her to finish quicker, she suddenly yanked your hair up forcing you to crawl on top of her, “Ooww! What’re you doing?” you winced.

“Not letting you win,” she breathed before slamming her lips against yours to prevent you from talking back. Of course you easily fell into it. Unfortunately, she took the opportunity and whipped you back around onto the bed as she hopped on top of you. She pinned your arms above your head with one hand as she grazed the other hand up your stomach, between your breasts, finally locking it in place on your neck. “You know I’m going to win, so why don’t you just give up now, princess? Make it easier for both of us,” her eyes twinkled.

You huffed at her knowing that the pet name always got to you, “bite me.”

She was mad for a split second before her expression turned wicked, “whatever you say,” as she dove down to your neck and began to sink her teeth into you.

“Shit,” you whined as you tried to release yourself from her godly grip. You loved it too much, you needed her to stop but also… you didn’t.

She continued to nip and bite where she pleased until she was satisfied, “oops,” she said slyly looking at the marks she left.

She finally let go of your hands but didn’t let go of your throat. One of your hands found her wrist while the other landed on her thigh that was keeping you down. You tried to wriggle your way out from under her but she refused. Her free hand snuck its way under your waist band, teasing as if she would go farther as if she forgot about the game.

“You’re not gonna win at this rate,” you copied her from earlier.

“Don’t,” she tightened her grip on your neck, “mock me, babygirl. I’m just getting started,” she chuckled as she finally released your throat. She gave you an evil grin before she shuffled off of you and almost actually ripped your booty shorts and underwear off of you.

You bounced on the bed from the force, “damn!”

“Chill,” she huffed jokingly. Without hesitation she immediately shoved her hand between your thighs and began to circle your clit and hard.

You arched your back in response slamming your fists on the bed, “damn!” You said in a more needy tone than before. Whimpers fell out of you with ease, it was so hard for you to hold them back.

She continued her motion while diving onto your nipple with her skilled mouth, sucking and twirling her tongue just right. Your hands tangled themselves in her hair. Unfortunately, with this fast pace and extra stimulation, you’ve never been closer to finishing this fast before. As much as it pained you, you pushed her head away and sat up to face her. Her hand below stopped its motion.

“What? What’s wrong?!” she looked genuinely concerned.

“I can’t let you win,” as you pushed her down onto her back so that now your heads were at the foot of the bed.

“So I was close to winning,” she exclaimed

“Barely,” you lied. You crawled back down her tan body hoping to continue what you started before, and surprisingly she let you.

But this time you amped it up. As your tongue flicked about her center, with her writhing above you, you easily slipped your middle finger inside of her. A loud moan filled the room, satisfying you. You smiled into her core as you gently began to pump your finger in and out of her. Slowly increasing your pace as time went on, your tongue working its magic and her moans filling the room louder and louder, you knew she wouldn’t be able to last much longer.

Surprisingly, she didn’t stop you this time. You finalized your pace and kept it steady, swirling your tongue on her clit, you couldn’t wait to win.

“GOD… FUCK!” She screamed as she arched her back so hard she almost levitated off the bed. Her muscles were clenching around your finger, and her eyes rolled to the back of her head…you won.

You continued your motions until she finally came down from her high. You slowly removed your hand from her as you took one last long lick to clean her up. She shivered pulling your head up from below. You made eye contact with her as you sucked your finger clean, crawling back on top of her. You sat your happy self down on her hips watching her chest rise and fall, letting her catch her breath.

“I win,” you snarled with a wicked grin.

“Best two out of three,” she breathed.

You thought for a minute, “Bring it.”

#rhea ripley #wwe #rhea ripley x reader #i’m so sorry this took so fucking long please don’t hate me please #i thought this was a fun idea so i had to do it

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butterznack · 3 months ago

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out of touch

Pairing : Jihyo x afab!reader

Summary : another late night studying while face-timing with your girlfriend who tells you to take a break.

Genre : smut, established relationship, college!au

Warnings : 18+, phone sex, mutual masturbation, fingering, sex talk? kinda?, clit stimulation, g-spot stimulation

a/n : first attempt at writing smut, it’s kinda short, maybe a bit rushed at the end, it’s not that bad, it’s not incredible, it’s fine enough for me to post it here lol. tell me if i missed any warnings regarding the smut <3

“I’m a mess.”

“What are you talking about?” Your girlfriend inquires.

“I’m falling behind in my classes, again.”

You watch as Jihyo tilts her head to the side, chin propped up on her hand and staring into your soul through her phone screen. You want to blame it on her and claim it is solely because of her charm, her gorgeous face and sweet words of hers that you are failing your classes this semester.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you whine, leaning back into your chair, defeated.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, love,” but the smirk slowly stretching the corners of her lips gives her away and you pout.

You’ve had to retake three classes you flunked last semester. One because you dropped it as you realized five classes were too much workload for you; a second because the professor didn’t want to gross up the class’ grades even though everyone was complaining about the teacher’s unrelated-to-the-course’s-content questions in the exam, which made you and a bunch of other students fail; and a last because it was an elective you chose outside of your department of study and miserably failed as well. But maybe Advanced Calculus I when you were majoring in communications was not the brightest idea of your undergrad career.

What even is the Cauchy sequence anyway?

“That bad?” Jihyo asks, voice soft and laced with concern.

“I’m supposed to graduate next semester,” you start, throwing your pen on your desk, “and I said the same thing last semester.”

You curse at the sky, well, your dorm room’s ceiling. The scene has Jihyo giggling, and you mirror her smile, it helps a bit with the dreadful feeling bubbling at the pit of your stomach.

“Baby,” you melt at the pet name, “far be it from me to discourage you from studying right now, I believe you should take a break.”

“I can’t,” you pause, “I don’t want to.”

You see your girlfriend’s face get closer to the camera, and you think you hear the faint sound of her footsteps and a key turning in its lock.

“Because you’re gonna think about it all night, get probably four hours of sleep tops, and miss your first class of the day tomorrow?” she guesses, settling back into her desk chair and adjusting her phone in front of her so you can now see her fully. She’s got one leg propped up on the seat, and her tiny shorts riding up the inner part of her thigh are letting you see her baby blue and yellow flowers panties.

“Hello? Baby, you’re frozen.”

“Yeah, sorry, what were you saying?” You ask, stumbling over your words. You lift your eyes to her face, her hair is tied up in a ponytail and she’s wearing her glasses, a thin and roundish frame complimenting the shape and size of her eyes as they stare into yours. Her neck is exposed, and you see a pink-ish spot near her collarbone, remnants of your latest weekend spent together at her place.

“Case in point,” she pauses, “you should take a break, love.”

The term of endearment makes you whine, a shiver running up your spine to your nape. Jihyo’s tone is sweet, and yet authoritative.

“I’m not good at taking breaks when you’re not there, love.” You emphasize the pet name, trying hard not to crumble under her gaze, now fueled with the idea of a challenge. A look that screams bet.

“Well first of all you can’t possibly be comfortable with that hoodie on. I mean, come on baby, it’s April, the weather’s good. Light even.” And it is a suggestion, your girlfriend is too refined to simply tell you to take your hoodie off. A common occurrence when you started dating, you and Jihyo being downright blunt and short-winded, as if you were in a rush, finding the one weekend you’d manage to have with one another too short to your liking.

While you were still living and studying in different cities, you both got to appreciate and savor those days together.

The more you got to explore each other’s bodies - the tiny lion’s wrinkle making a guest appearance between Jihyo’s eyebrows when giving the first lick at her soaking cunt, or the head thrown back and mouth agape when her fingers poked and rubbed at your g-spot, the more you understood the importance of taking your time, of tiptoeing around, investing more time into foreplay and teasing more than ever now.

“I’m feeling very light,” you grin. Your fingers travel down south, catching the hem of your oversized hoodie and you slowly lift it, revealing your shorts first. Jihyo’s eyes follow your hand, biting down lightly on her bottom lip. She’s attentive, observing and taking in every inch of skin you expose.

You lift the hoodie up to your breasts. Then, sliding both hands underneath it, you grab at them, pulling them up as you keep raising the hoodie higher. As the shirt gathers near your collarbone, you let go of your tits, letting them bounce down.

You can hear Jihyo bite back a mewl through the microphone, her own hand fondling one tit, occasionally pinching the nipple that you can tell are both perking up beneath the fabric of her tank top.

“Copycat,” she smirks when you roll your nipples between your fingers.

“Learned from the best,” you breathe in a whine, staring at her free hand running down her stomach to her shorts. Jihyo lets her hand wander lower, shamelessly palming at her crotch and you watch as her pinky and pointer peek out the sides of the inseam of her bottoms.

“Bet you’d like a taste of me right now, huh?” She taunts.

And you can tell your girlfriend’s panties are drenched just from the dazed look in her eyes and the blush on her cheeks.

While Jihyo’s boobs are a delight for you to touch and gawk at (sometimes, you’re no better than a man), it is also way obvious your girlfriend also gets rapidly turned on and wet just looking at your own. You didn’t think cumming from just mouth and tongue on your nipples was possible until you met her. Jihyo’s skills in that matter were truly unmatched.

“Looks like you’re having a hard time breathing, love,” you tease in return, observing the quick rise and fall of her chest, though you’re no better. “You don’t seem comfortable right now.”

She scoffs, but ultimately decides on baring herself completely to you. Jihyo slides down her shorts and panties at a languid pace, bending down in her chair to gather the underwear and show it off to the camera. She lets it fall between her legs, a playful smile adorning her face, as she settles back into her initial position on the seat. She keeps her top on, an invitation to let your imagination run wild, to let you picture her boobs all round and swollen from arousal and her nipples red.

That’s all it takes for you to start panting, puffing out air as you take in the sight of your girlfriend’s pussy glistening in the lowlight of her dorm room. Jihyo resumes her ministrations, two fingers teasing at her slit, coating them in her arousal to glide them back up her clit. You’re a goner the moment you see her back arching against the backseat, and you finally let go of your tits to undress completely, too hot and bothered at the marvelous sight of your girlfriend getting off to you playing with yourself you don’t think you can hold back any longer.

You’re just as aroused and wet as Jihyo is. Your pussy is throbbing, clenching around nothing, but you don’t give in just yet.

“Keep up with me okay?” Jihyo prompts, and you nod, too focused on the way her fingers prob between her lower lips.

You get both legs to spread wide on the armrests of your desk chair, a hand going down to your soaked cunt, using it as a lubricant to toy at your clit. “You’re the one who should keep up with me,” you jest.

Jihyo doesn’t back down, getting one finger in, and you both moan at the same time. Her pace is slow and steady at first, and you don’t miss out the lewd squelching sounds her pussy makes when she ups her speed, mixed with the whines and moans she unabashedly sings out of her lungs.

For a minute you think about telling her to keep quiet, picturing her stuffing her mouth with the panties on display in front of her pussy. Maybe on another occasion.

You do as you said you would and match her rhythm on your clit, your middle finger circling at the bundle of nerves as fast as Jihyo is now fingering herself. You know the angle is not what you give her when you’re the one stuffing her cunt with your fingers, she’s well aware of it too. Jihyo frowns, it is not enough and it is frustrating, she barely reaches her g-spot, but follows through nonetheless.

When she pulls out to rub at her clit, you put two fingers in and they slide with ease. You moan, there’s still a slight burn and you feel yourself tightening around your fingers. Eyes glued to the screen of your phone, you watch as your girlfriend gets rough on her clit, her moans and gasps less sparse and louder.

“Slow down pretty,” you whimper, “talk to me.”

“Baby, I want your mouth on me,” Jihyo muses. “Fuck, I wish I could sit on your face right now.”

You gasp, going back to massage one tit while circling at your clit again. “I’m the best at it, right? Say it, love,” you demand, and all Jihyo does is nod, eyes shut, she’s pinching one nipple between her fingers, still assaulting her clit, she’s chasing her high. “Look at me.”

Jihyo opens her eyes and what a sight you are. Fucked out, legs spread wide on your chair, boobs bouncing lightly against your arms, your arousal is dripping on the seat of your chair.

Your moans are now as strong as hers, you’re a whimpering mess in front of her and that does it for Jihyo. Your girlfriend has her back arching, she’s doing her best to keep her eyes on you. Her orgasm hits her like a wave against the shore. She grips the armrest, riding herself through her high and more, wincing and whining from the overstimulation.

“Oh fuck,” you gasp, the coil in your stomach snaps and it takes all your willpower to not close your legs on your hand at the risk of falling down from your chair.

“You okay, love?”

You can vaguely hear your girlfriend calling for you.

“Don’t scare me like that,” Jihyo huffs, straightens up and moves closer to her phone. You do the same, still fully naked.

“Weren’t you the one telling me to take a break?” you smile.

“It looked like you fainted for a sec,” she retorts, her lips stretching into a tired smile mimicking yours. “I hope it helped though.”

“Don’t worry, it did.”

#✒️ – fics #twice imagines #twice fics #twice smut #twice x reader #twice x you #twice x y/n #park jihyo x reader #park jihyo x you #park jihyo x y/n #jihyo smut #jihyo x reader #jihyo x you #jihyo x y/n

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mindyco · 2 months ago

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ARC 1: 07 ⚠︎

📢❗🚨 CONTENT WARNING: this chapter contains some gore and gross talk!

Review

She stepped back, wiping her hands on her apron, and tilted her head as she observed the contrast. The dark, grimy alleyway and the weathered dumpster stood in stark contrast to the bright pink goodie bag. The sight made her laugh softly.

"There was no way in hell he would miss it."

▼▼▼▼

The week had passed with an almost surreal sense of normalcy for her. After placing the goodie bag on the dumpster, she'd rushed to the alley the next morning, heart racing with anticipation as though it were Christmas morning.

When she saw the pink package gone, she danced around like a middle school play—he'd taken it!

(AU: someone else could've taken it bbygurl "( – ⌓ – )=3).

Business, however, remained slow.

She spent most of her days surrounded by silence, the hum of her phone playing the news.

Her eyes would drift toward the screen, scrolling through stories about mysterious gang takedowns happening across the city. Every report made her heart skip with excitement. It's him. It's gotta be him.

The streets outside were dark, save for the occasional flicker of passing headlights. Y/N stood at the workbench, dusting her hands with flour as she prepared dough to rise overnight. The rhythmic motions of kneading were soothing, her mind drifting as she worked.

A strand of hair fell into her face, tickling her cheek. She huffed, blowing it away, only for it to settle back in the same spot.

"You've got to be kidding me," she muttered, as she used the back of her wrist to nudge the loose hair behind her ear, careful to keep the flour on her hands away from her hair.

Brinnggg!!!

The bell above the door chimed.

Her head snapped up, heart leaping. A customer? This late? She quickly grabbed the bag of flour she'd been using, her rolling pin wedged into the top, and rushed to the front.

She placed the flour bag and rolling pin on the counter behind the register without thinking, turning toward the door with a wide, eager smile.

Her smile faltered.

Four men lounged lazily at the counter, dragon tattoos winding up their arms.

The Purple Dragons.

Their presence felt like an oil spill on clean water.

Y/N stiffened, her fingers twitching at her sides. She could feel their eyes on her—gross and invasive, crawling over her like ants.

She forced a smile, her voice a little too bright to cover her unease. "Welcome! What can I get for you today?"

The men glanced at each other, smirking like they shared an inside joke. One of them stepped forward, leaning against the counter with a predatory grin. "What ya' got here?" he asked mockingly, his eyes scanning the run down bakery.

Her shoulders tensed. "I...I've got cupcakes," she said, her voice steady, though her hands trembled slightly as she gripped the edge of her apron. "They're not exactly fresh, but they're still good..."

One of the men chuckled, the sound low and predatory. "Cupcakes, huh?" he said, dragging the word out like he was tasting it on his tongue.

He leaned against the counter, smirking. "Nah, sweetheart, we ain't here for cupcakes. We're here to talk business." His grin widened, a dangerous glint in his eye that made her stomach churn.

Her stomach twisted in fear. "...Business?"

"Yeah," he sneered. "You see, my boys and I protect this area now. And protection ain't cheap. So from now on, ya' gonna start payin' us a lil' tax. Keep the bad guys away, ya' know?"

She swallowed hard. "I... I don't have any money," she stammered. "No one's been coming in—there's nothing to pay you with."

The thug's expression darkened. He pulled a knife from his pocket, flicking it open with a menacing grin. "Wrong answer."

She instinctively took a step back, her pulse racing as panic began to set in. "Wait—please! I'm telling the truth. There's no money here. The register's empty!" She gestured toward the old, battered cash register as proof.

He took a step forward, eyes glinting with malice. "Then we'll just have to take somethin' else, won't we?"

She backed up, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Her back hit the counter, fingers fumbling behind her, searching for anything she could use to defend herself.

The Purple Dragon thug advanced on her, his cocky smirk widening with every step. Her fingers tightened around the rolling pin hidden in the bag of flour behind her.

She had one plan: swing the rolling pin and knock him out.

Simple. Effective. Foolproof.

Or so she thought.

As he leaned closer, his knife glinting ominously under the warm lights, Y/N clenched her eyes shut.

She swung her arm.

SLAP!

The sound rang through the bakery like a firecracker. The air went still, heavy with disbelief. Y/N's palm tingled, and she froze, confused.

S...Slap...?

She cautiously opened one eye, expecting to see the thug retaliating after slapping her. Instead, she saw him holding his face, his jaw slack in sheer disbelief.

His eyes were wide, his fingers pressing against the growing red imprint, outlined in white flour, of her hand on his cheek.

Y/N blinked, her mind blank for a moment.

Oh...

Well...

...I guess that works?

The other Purple Dragons stood frozen, their expressions a mix of confusion and horror as if they couldn't process what had just happened.

"Uh... okay then," she muttered under her breath, raising the rolling pin in her other hand. With all the force she could muster, she brought it down on his head.

CRACK!

"I—You—" he stammered, swaying on his feet like a drunkard. But somehow—somehow—he stayed standing.

"Eh...?"

Sir, what...?!

The thug's head jerked up, his face twisted in pure hatred. Blood dripped down from the gash on his forehead, running over his nose and down to his chin. His eyes gleamed with such intensity that Y/N could swear her soul left her body for a moment.

It felt like she was in the middle of a horror movie, and he was the monster.

Her hands went slack, and the rolling pin slipped from her fingers, clattering to the floor.

"Hiieee—!!"

Her feet skidded slightly on the flour-dusted tiles as she sprinted for her gosh darn life. She reached the back door and twisted the handle, desperately trying to open it.

But before she could escape, a sharp yank pulled her backward. Her head snapped back as the thug's bloody hand gripped a fistful of her hair. "Ack—! My hair!" Y/N wailed, tears springing to her eyes from the pain.

"Let go, damn it! I'm about to go bald!"

He dragged her back toward the front of the bakery, her heels scraping against the floor as she flailed uselessly, her cries of protest falling on deaf ears.

Through teary eyes and blurry vision, she caught glimpses of the chaos around her. Her bakery—the small space she had poured her everything into—was in ruins. The display case was shattered, shards of glass glinting under the flickering lights. Chairs lay broken, their legs snapped like twigs, and her cupcakes made just that morning were crushed beneath heavy boots.

The other Purple Dragons paid her no mind. They were too busy tearing the place apart, swinging their bats and fists at anything that remained intact. Bags of flour were ripped open, coating the air with a white haze.

The bakery was unrecognizable.

He knelt down in front of her, his large hand still gripping the back of her head, forcing her to look up at him. His face inched closer, their proximity so unnervingly intimate that, to an outsider, it might have looked like a tender moment—a hot man gently holding his partner, leaning in to whisper sweet nothings.

But there was no romance here, neither was a hot man.

In Y/N's eyes, he looked like a demon dragged straight from the depths of hell.

"You think you can get away with that, huh?" he hissed, his voice low and menacing. His breath, reeking of cigarettes, hit her face, making her gag. "I'm gonna make you regret—"

Blood dripped from the gash on his forehead, down to his chin, before splattering onto her cheek.

"Mmph..." She flinched, trying to turn her face away. Her stomach twisted in revulsion as the warm, sticky drop slid down her neck.

"Don't you fucking turn away from me!" he snapped, his voice rising in anger. His free hand shot out, gripping her chin roughly and yanking her face back toward him.

"Agh...!"

His blood-slicked fingers dug into her skin, smearing streaks across her cheeks. The iron scent mixed with the stench of his breath made her eyes water.

I'm gonna be sick...

The lights flickered.

Y/N's breath caught. The thug paused, his head snapping up as he looked around. The other Purple Dragons stiffened, their smug expressions wavering. The room plunged into complete darkness, save for the faint glow of streetlights filtering in through the windows.

"What the hell is going on?!" the thug barked, his grip on Y/N tightening.

A soft sound cut through the darkness—barely a whisper of movement. Then came the sickening thud of something heavy hitting the ground, followed by a muffled groan.

"Boss?" one of the gang members called out, his voice trembling. "What's going—?"

Another thud. Another groan. The sound of bodies collapsing filled the room, one after another.

The thug holding Y/N froze, his fingers trembling slightly as he pulled her closer like a human shield. "Who's there?!" he shouted into the void.

Before she could even register what was happening, the thug was ripped away from her like a ragdoll. His hand tore free of her hair, leaving her stumbling backward against the counter. The cold edge of it pressed into her back as she clutched the counter for support.

A sharp cry of pain split the air, quickly followed by a heavy thud.

She didn't dare move, frozen in place as the violence seemed to swirl around her in the darkness. Her scalp throbbed where the thug had grabbed her, the warmth of his blood still slick on her skin.

She could hear the sickening crack of bones breaking—sharp and violent, like twigs snapping underfoot.

And then... silence.

The bakery was eerily quiet now, save for the soft, labored breathing of someone else in the room.

She blinked, trying to adjust her eyes to the faint light. She could barely make out the shape of a figure standing above the thugs. One of them stirred, groaning as he tried to get back up, but the figure moved swiftly—his foot pressing down hard on the thug's chest, pinning him to the ground effortlessly.

"It's over now," came the low, soothing voice, deep and steady, calming her frantic heartbeat. His eyes, though she couldn't see them clearly, were on her the entire time.

Her heart raced even faster. That voice... She knew that voice. Her mind whirled, memories of the alleyway flashing before her—the man she'd spoken to, hidden in the shadows. It was him.

୨ TINY THEATRE ୧

Thugs: Teehee, we've come to extort you!

Y/N: (◔_◔)💅 Guess you don't know who my manz is...

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

୨ Any constructive criticism? Please comment below! ˘ᗜ˘ ৎ

#x reader #tmnt #bayverse leo #leonardo x reader #bayverse tmnt #leo x reader #tmnt 2014 #tmnt bayverse #tmnt leonardo

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declanlikesmusic · 1 year ago

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Today's Listens: Episode 002

August 6th, 2023

Welcome back to the series! I hope that as I write more of these and document my growing thoughts on music & albums, we all come to acknowledge that while you may disagree with me on some takes more than others, we would all best come together to civilly discuss our collective love for the music that we're passionate for.

That said, this is a content warning for graphic imagery, specifically on the cover art for this first album. If you're not a fan of gross bodily organs and stuff, don't worry, neither am I.

Nirvana – In Utero (1993)

I'm kicking off today with me accepting the fact that I'm not a big In Utero guy. I know this album has often seen reappraisal as considered by a great deal of music peeps to be Nirvana's best album, but I'm personally firmly in the Nevermind camp, even though my last revisit of that album wasn't as infatuated. That said, while I wasn't keen on the raw recordings of this album at first, I grew to be more based and accustomed to it in the years since, leading to some damn good enjoyment nonetheless. It's a very good album all the same and I respect the status that it has, especially today.

6.9 / 10

Highlights: Heart-Shaped Box, Very Ape, Milk It, All Apologies

t e l e p a t h テレパシー能力者 – アンドロメダ (2014)

I'm taking my sweet ass time with Telepath's massive discography of legendary vaporwave & slushwave music, but coming back to this one in particular was a shockingly pleasant surprise. I've always seen this as one of his most meditative albums, but I didn't recall it having actual music much on my first listen. So coming back to this, I can't believe I walked away with so many highlights. This thing is gorgeous; it gives you a ton of memorable short-term melodies and some beautiful deep cuts that run much longer and justifiably so. This might go down as one of my favourite Telepath albums, to be honest, but I still just can't wait to get the rest of his big heavy-hitters out of the way like this one.

7.8 / 10

Highlights: 空に光、いつも、二、アトラクション、不思議、蒸気涙

Gupi – None (2020)

So after work was a non-starter due to the weather, I headed right back home after lunch and rolled upon this record that I had heard all the way back when it came out. Many were hooked onto this, not just because of what this producer was making, but also because of who he even was. Goes to show you the true, unbridled power of nepotism. Speaking of non-starters, the opening title track was a deeply unpleasant first impression to me, but I was pleasantly surprised (again) that the rest of the record picked right up from there and remained consistently decent throughout, even great in spots towards the end. Bubblegum bass (and subsequently hyperpop) were running completely wild during the days of 100 gecs, so it was only natural for this young talent to bust through with this debut and have me have a decent time with it as well. I just don't look forward to revisiting his duo project with Fraxiom, that one was rough when I heard it, even if his track here was good too. I also really liked the refrain on False Awakening as well.

6.5 / 10

Highlights: Driving Directly Into a Concrete Wall, Regression, Faking It, False Awakening

N.W.A – Straight Outta Compton (1988)

For my 1,312th rating on my second RateYourMusic account, I thought I'd finally tune into one of the most respected and critically acclaimed rap albums of all time, not to mention among the most controversial records of the 80s and good for it too. The first two cuts off this album are iconic, though I've always been more of a Fuck tha Police type of person myself, and after that, Parental Discretion iz Advised and Express Yourself are great listens too. God, this drops off hard though. The last four tracks of the main album were a slog, from their Compton's n the House remix to the closer Quiet on tha Set. Every beat was far too scant & repetitive for my liking, especially at the runtimes they were given and tracks like I Ain't tha 1 especially had some lyrical clunkers that read as childish. Still, this was a fine time with some prime cuts, but just way more underwhelming by the end of it.

6.4 / 10

Highlights: Straight Outta Compton, Fuck tha Police, If it Ain't Ruff, Parental Discretion iz Advised, Express Yourself

Arctic Monkeys – Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not (2006)

I remember some time last year when I was trying to pull myself out of the rut of music listening burnout, I tuned in to a pair of Arctic Monkeys records with a friend/carer of mine. This excessively long-titled album was one of the two, the other being the excessively short-titled AM. I ended up preferring and even loving AM by comparison, but that doesn't (nor should it) undermine this debut album's accomplishments, especially as it's still very good to this day and has some exceptional highlights coming out of it. I thought to return to it just to have a simple good fuck rock time and I got exactly that. God bless the Arctic Monkeys for giving me exactly what I expected.

7.1 / 10

Highlights: The View From the Afternoon, I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor, Fake Tales of San Francisco, Perhaps Vampires is a Bit Strong But…, A Certain Romance

Rollergirl! – I Love You, Rollergirl! (2014)

Keats Collective as a label was the birthplace of future funk as a genre, thanks to acts like Saint Pepsi, Macross 82-99, Flamingosis, Lancaster and yes, Rollergirl getting a spotlight all over their formative years. This is currently the last EP Rollergirl has put out after their popular Self-Titled got buzz in the scene, but I'm certainly not as thrilled about this one. Compared to that previous EP, this record lacks a lot of the energy and tempo that I would've hoped to carry over. It felt a lot more homogenised and sterile by comparison, but I still really appreciated bits and pieces, like the opener, the closer (especially) and the part in I Love You by the end where the sample was chopped to sing out the album title. It's good and if you're curious, I wouldn't stray away from it. Like with rollerskates.

7.0 / 10

Highlights: Boogie Down, I Love You, Last Night

Yes – Close to the Edge (1972)

I've been meaning to revisit this record for the longest time now and I finally put my foot down to retry it. I really loved this record when I first heard it, but I can't say that I adore it as much as I appreciate it now still. It remains a wonderfully crafted record, but I've never been able to fawn over the title track and its segments until the last one. It's the B-side of this record that almost completely sold me and while it didn't win me all the way over in the end, I was still very happy with what I heard. If you wanna get into progressive rock, this is still one of the greatest places to start.

7.4 / 10

Highlights: And You and I, Siberian Khatru

INTERNET CLUB – DELUXE (2011)

Finally, to conclude the night, I wanted to listen to something very obsure, almost dark while eerie, ominous and mysteriously short. Who better to turn to for that than the one who made ▣世界から解放され▣？This super short, almost 15-minute offering was the first of a strange trilogy of pioneering broken transmission mini-albums and while I strongly admired ▣世界から解放され▣ for what it contributed to the scene, I ended up falling out of that same appreciation for the finale NHK REMINDS YOU TO BOOST YOUR SIGNAL. Returning to this album though was a complete shock to me; despite the rough start, when it got to the title track, I was in complete love with the looping sample and as the rest of the record went on, Robin displays hit after hit with chopped up vaporwave tunes and mystifying glitches. It ended up being my favourite of the three by a very good margin! Obviously, I don't expect this one to click with everybody, but if this intrigues you and you've already dipped your toes into the broken transmission or signalwave subgenres, I don't see why you wouldn't enjoy this one! Except NO MORE MONO, that one was uncomfortable.

7.9 / 10

Highlights: NIGHT DRIVE, DELUXE, ONLY IN DREAMS, SHARPER DUB, HEARTS (NIGHT DRIVE, PART TWO)

So that was a lot that I listened to today, but I had a ton of fun with it! Let me know what you thought of any of these albums and what I should try in the near future! Thank you so much for reading and stay gay!

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yslkook · 4 years ago

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just like magic

pairing: house husband!seokjin x wife!reader summary: some moments of bliss with you and seokjin in your married life together. word count: 11k warnings: cursing, alcohol, smut (oral f receiving, penetrative sex), suggestive content a/n: some of these moments are inspired by ariana grande songs, enjoy <3 ty to @cutechim for reading some of this!! AND THANK YOU TO HANA FOR THIS BEAUTIFUL BANNER IM IN TEARS

ONE. pov.

The faint golden glow of the early morning barely touches Jin as he rolls over to press his lips to your shoulder, where your sleep shirt has slipped down a bit. You’re still seemingly asleep, soft snores leaving your parted lips and your alarm hasn’t gone off yet.

It always goes off at the most opportune times.

He presses himself closer to you, molding his hips to yours and shoving his hand up your faded purple sleep shirt to palm your tits. You sigh happily, pushing back against him in your sleep.

Jin knows you’re close to waking up, if the quickness of your breaths is any indicator. You smile with your eyes still closed as he drops feathery kisses to your cheeks, your chin, your neck.

“I know you’re awake,” Jin rolls his eyes, his voice hoarse from just waking up.

“I’m sleeping,” You mumble, turning towards him and wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. Jin only laughs airily, dipping his head for a kiss to your lips.

“Wake up then,” Jin breathes. You can feel his half hard cock tucked in his boxers against your thigh already and you hum. It only takes a simple brush for you to buck your hips towards him, centering your bare core to his cock.

You hadn’t bothered with panties last night, after he had fucked you back to sleep. Despite the faint ache in between your legs, you wrap your leg around his hip and pull him on top of you.

“Thought you were sleeping.”

“My annoying husband woke me up,” You say, eyes still slick with sleep. Arousal rolls in your belly when he grinds into you lightly.

The pink haze of sleep begins to slip away as Jin kisses you deeply, with more urgency than before.

“Had to give you something to remember me by today,” Jin whispers, “It’s Monday, after all.”

“Don’t remind me,” You groan, rubbing your eyes, “This week is gonna fucking suck, baby.”

“Shh,” Jin says, pressing a finger to your lips, “We have, like, thirty minutes before you have to start getting ready for work.”

“Better make it worth it, babes,” You laugh and he squeezes your thighs. He raises his head, looking at you like you’re a meal and like you’re his queen.

His lips are heated against your skin, your giggles turning into soft moans of his name quickly.

“Jin, baby,” You say, voice sounding muffled to your ears, “I have to be at work early-”

“Can’t even appreciate my wifey’s sexy bod,” Jin grumbles and you swat his shoulder, “God, I could eat this pussy out all day-”

“Saying sexy like that isn’t sexy,” You complain, “And you’re not doing anything, you’re just breathing on my clit- gonna give me an embolism-”

One look from Jin, a kiss and a few rolls of your clit with his thumb has you wet against his fingers- the man, your husband of three years, knows your body even better than you know yourself. He knows you better than you know yourself.

His mouth slips over your inner thighs, his hands tight around your hips to hold you in place as you buck your hips impatiently for friction. Jin is so handsome in the morning (well, he’s handsome all the time), but something about the puffiness of his eyes and the pink of his cheeks from sleep always has your pussy fluttering.

Your husband of three years, and your boyfriend for six years before that- he always has your pussy fluttering and your heart soaring.

Jin swipes his fingers across your glossy folds, glistening just for him, and presses his mouth to your sensitive clit. His hands wander, squeezing your tits fondly, roaming over the hidden bites from the prior night easily. You widen your legs and carelessly throw them over his shoulders.

“Jin,” You whine, “I want you, stop teasing me-”

“‘M not,” Jin says, voice dripping with thick, honeyed desire, “I just, you know how much I love this pussy.”

“Yeah, you love my pussy more than you love me,” You tease, “Please-”

You cut yourself off with a sharp moan as his tongue flicks over your clit teasingly. Hooded eyes meet his dark eyes as his tongue delves deeper into your wet folds, and your thighs quiver almost instantly once he rubs your clit with his thumb.

You’re so sensitive. It’s how he likes you best. (He likes you sensitive, and he likes you in that tight dark green dress you’re planning on wearing to work today.)

Jin loves you in the morning, with the taste of the night before in between your legs. You end the night with him and start your morning with him- it’s all he wants. All he wants is something to remember him by during your inevitably busy days.

“I love you,” Jin mumbles, “My gorgeous girl. Sound so pretty when you cum in my mouth…”

He loves teasing you, loves making you beg for him. And this time is no different. A string of curses fly from your mouth, your back arching when you beg his name in broken noises.

“Good morning to me,” You giggle lazily, pulling him in for a kiss.

“Good morning to my pretty wifey,” Jin hums and you push him on his back, straddling his hips.

Yeah. It’s your favorite type of morning.

TWO. love language.

“It’s Friday,” Jin mumbles, wrapping his arms around your waist as you pour two mugs of coffee for you both, “The weather outside is awful. You’ll get blown away, just stay home baby.”

You’re already dressed and ready to go into the office, eyeliner sharp and lipstick perfectly placed, but one look outside of the window has you reconsidering. You had already decided that you’d stay home and work from the dining table or the couch but you enjoy seeing Jin grovel a little too much. So you let him.

“When did you become a meteorologist,” You mutter, threading your fingers through his and squeezing.

Your calendar today is quite light. Only a few meetings, a few deliverables for you to provide. You’ve already decided that you’ll stay home and shower Jin with at much attention as you can, but he pouts against your neck.

“That’s the dream.”

“I thought the dream was being my husband.”

“That comes in a close second to being a meteorologist, and I think there’s a one hundred percent chance that you’ll be staying home today and giving me cuddles.”

You roll your eyes at him but can’t resist the smile that tugs at your lips. Turning in his arms and handing him a cup of coffee with a dash of milk and caramel coffee creamer, you lean forward for a kiss.

A crack of thunder sends you jumping in his arms and yelping, nearly dropping the mug to the floor but Jin grabs it before you can.

He knows you better than you know yourself.

“I’m staying home, baby,” You say, “It’s not worth it. And I have a light day today so maybe…” You trail a finger over the thick vein in his neck and over his chest with a sly grin.

“So maybe we can take a nap together at noon,” Jin finishes your sentence for you with a gleam in his eyes.

“...Or that.”

Working from the dining table whenever you worked from home made you feel close to Jin. He’d flit around you, pecking you with kisses or a squeeze of your shoulder whenever he passed you, or telling you to get up off your ass if you’ve been sitting too long. But mostly, you just enjoy his company and working from home always puts you in a good mood.

Even if you have a designated office in the cozy townhouse you’ve been living with Jin in for two years now, you prefer the dining table for work from home days. You do use the office, if you really need to. But those days are few and far between.

You have about an hour before you have to log in, so you decide to make breakfast for Jin while he waters the plants upstairs. Usually, it’s Jin making you breakfast- he always makes it a point to have breakfast with you before you leave for work.

You’re happy to have a man who doesn’t resent you for being the breadwinner, as your family and friends had cautioned you of years ago. You had scoffed at them then, as if they knew anything about you or Jin. He’s happy to support you and be your biggest cheerleader and you’re his biggest cheerleader.

You had met in college, studying the same discipline and where you were passionate about it, he wasn’t. He had such a passion for life that was refreshing, and he brought out the best in you. Jin made you laugh, he made you love, and you both just worked so well together. Even on your off days, you both just knew each other.

You cut your avocado egg toasts in half and pour a glass of mango pineapple smoothie (Jin’s favorite) for both of you.

“Hey, honey,” You call when he pokes his head around the corner and see his fluffy purple house slippers, “Breakfast is ready.”

Jin kisses you in appreciation, pulling you closer to him by your waist. “Girl of my dreams making me breakfast, huh?”

“Shut up,” You swat his chest, “It’s too gross to take Bomi out, right?”

“Yeah, my baby is still sleeping in her bed,” Jin says, yelping when you pinch his waist.

“Your baby?”

“Oh, fine, our baby,” Jin rolls his eyes, “Was gonna take her to see Jimin and baby Jia today. Fucking storm…”

“Maybe they can come over this weekend, when it passes,” You hum, “We can make those lemon bars she likes.”

“We can do brunch with them? Have some margaritas and mojitos,” Jin suggests, tugging your hand to join him at the breakfast bar.

“I’m sure Sunmi would appreciate that,” You reply.

You both look up to the ceiling when you hear Bomi trotting out of her bed and at the top of the stairs. You stand at the bottom with open arms and she bounds towards you eagerly, nuzzling you with her soft nose and licking you everywhere.

“Hi Bomi, baby,” You coo and scratch her head, “It’s raining outside, we can’t go to the dog park today. You can hang out with Mommy and Daddy inside.”

She only looks at you with big, light brown eyes and pants in excitement. She slides out of your arms and stands in front of Jin, only to jump and cuddle into his lap.

“You’re getting so big, Bomi,” Jin whispers, “Gonna tackle me over someday.”

“She could take you,” You tease and sit next to him, tickling Bomi’s jaw. You put some dog food into her bowl (that Jin made himself in his ceramics class that he took on a whim and also painted) and pour some water for her in her water bowl.

Bomi immediately jumps off to have her own breakfast. You can vividly remember when you and Jin had both fallen in love with her at the adoption shelter, almost three years ago now. She had seemed so scared, and you and Jin had approached her cautiously. You knew she had an instant connection (like you had, years ago) with Jin when she touched his paw and saw stars in his eyes.

You brought her home less than two weeks later, and she’s been your baby ever since.

Jin nudges your foot playfully. You nudge him back.

“Got a long day today?” Jin murmurs after a bite of avocado toast. You wipe away stray avocado with your thumb and lick it for yourself.

“Nah, should be done around two or three,” You reply. Jin beams at you and kisses your temple.

“Don’t let me keep you,” You say airily, “I know you like working out in the mornings. I put protein powder in your smoothie.”

He rolls his eyes. As if you could come in the way of his meticulously crafted routine. Today, he was planning on working on the story he was writing, working out, and making lunch and dinner. He would be doing a little more, if the weather wasn’t working against him.

Jin loves the flexibility of his life, honestly. He loves being able to do the things he loves, while you do the things you love. And if that means him not technically having a stable job, and you bringing home most of the money, that’s more than okay with him. Besides, you’ve both come a long way from any insecurities that that might have brought.

He loves that all of his joy for life also comes with you by his side.

That’s what over ten years of being together will do.

***

“Baby,” You call from the couch, “Come here. I miss you.”

Your meetings for the day have finished and you have finished the bulk of your work, leaving the majority of your day free to finish up loose ends and send a few emails. This week has been filled with many early mornings and late nights, leaving both you and Jin yearning for the weekend and for more time with each other.

He comes to you with wide, puppy eyes and you beckon him forward. “Sit with me, honey. Please?”

Jin leans towards you, chin on your shoulder and chest to your back as he watches you type away. Your shoulders instantly relax with his touch and the comforting scent of his rain scented shower gel. He’s still warm from his shower and he wraps an arm around your waist.

It’s your favorite place to be.

“Is that woman being annoying,” Jin asks, “The one on your project for that document change you gotta make?”

“Nah, she’s been out this week,” You mutter, “I gotta have a heart to heart with her next week and tell her to stop railroading me every chance she gets.”

“Damn you’re so sexy when you get all mean,” Jin shivers dramatically and you laugh against him.

“‘M not mean,” You reply absently, clicking ‘send’ on an email and messaging your boss to have a good weekend. Bomi has woken up from her nap and joins you both on the couch, curling in your lap and dwarfing over your laptop screen.

“Bomi,” You chuckle and rub her back, “Silly girl.”

She only looks at you with wide eyes, happy that she has your attention. It reminds you a little bit of how Jin looks at you when he catches your eye. Jin leans over and takes Bomi from you and cuddles here in his lap. He turns around so his back is pressed against yours and his legs outstretched the other way. The warmth of him against you is welcome as you finish up your emails and sign off for the weekend as quickly as you can.

“Okay,” You murmur, “‘M done with work. Wanna take Bomi out for a walk with me? Looks like the storm stopped for the most part…”

“Sure, maybe I’ll finally get my kiss in the rain.”

“Yeah, and we’ll both get pneumonia,” You chastise him, patting his cheek, “Has Jungkook been getting in your head lately? Mr. Romance over there.”

Jin gasps in offense, “More like I’m getting in his head. Everything he knows about romance is because of me.”

“Okay, baby. Whatever you say.”

THREE. honeymoon avenue.

“I have two weeks of vacation left,” You muse, running your hands through Jin’s hair, “We should go to Phuket. We’ve been meaning to for years…”

“They say November is the best time,” Jin replies, peering over to the computer. Where you’re currently looking up flights and hotels to Phuket.

“November is next week, Seokjin.”

“Okay, and? Spontaneity is the backbone of long-term relationships,” Jin says matter-of-factly and dodges the inevitable swat to his shoulder.

“I thought trust, love, and respect is the backbone of long-term relationships.”

“That too. But really, it’s the fact that my hot wife wants to take me, her even hotter husband on a romantic getaway-”

“We should go,” You murmur, already thinking about the clear, pristine waters and white, sandy beaches. Not to mention the food…

“Baby, will you text in the groupchat? Ask if anyone wants to go,” You say, bookmarking beaches and places to sightsee. You already have a growing list of hotels and AirBnb’s that you want to investigate further.

“Not everyone is as spontaneous as us, sweets,” Jin says, “Peasants.”

***

In the end, only you and Jin end up deciding to go to Phuket. It was too last minute for your friends, especially for your friends with young children.

It’s just you and Jin in Phuket for a week. You had decided to leave Bomi with the dog sitter, as she hated flying and was terrified of it.

By the time you both get settled in your Airbnb, you’re both bouncing off the walls with pent up energy.

Phuket isn’t ready for the storm that was you and Seokjin.

***

“Sweets, you ready for dinner?” Jin calls from the bedroom, leaning against the headboard of the bed.

“Five minutes!”

Jin rolls his eyes fondly, very well acquainted with how long it takes for you to get ready sometimes. Your eyeliner had to be just perfect, lipstick complimenting your eye makeup, your jewelry a statement but not obnoxious… The list goes on.

He scrolls on his phone impatiently, looking at the photos the dog-sitter sent of Bomi and then he lets his friends know what their plans were. They all excitedly ask for pictures and updates.

He’s already gotten quite tan since being here, and it’s only been four and a half days. Though most of the time during those four and a half days was spent at the beach, hiking, exploring, or sipping drinks at the beach bar.

Bliss. Seeing the way the sun glows on your skin and the way you beam at him without the stress of deadlines and responsibilities is a sight he’ll never tire of. If his photo album on his phone is anything to go by, it’s filled with candids of you and photos of you sprinkled in with the scenery and the food you’ve both been eating.

You’ll try anything once, and Jin will, too.

Five minutes go by.

“I’m hungry,” Jin whines, finally getting up and leaning against the doorframe. His throat goes a little dry when you look at him with wide eyes, in the middle of applying your false lashes.

“Two minutes, baby, I promise-”

“I should eat you instead,” Jin says, eyes raking over your figure brazenly. You’re wearing a tight red dress with thin straps, and a thin necklace that he had bought you for your most recent birthday sits around your neck.

“What a line,” You roll your eyes.

“It worked, didn’t it?” Jin says cockily, “Got you forever and always.”

“How romantic.”

***

You can’t deny the butterflies that you still get around Jin, especially when he looks at you like that over dinner. Like you’re the only thing in the entire world when his eyes are molten gold for you and you only.

You won’t deny that the way he calls you his wife in that low, raspy voice sends a rush of something curling in your belly. You’ll blame it on the third glass of sam song that you’ve had. Jin himself is on his third glass of mekhong. His ears and the apples of his cheeks are flushed red from the alcohol.

You want to pounce on him. Who does Seokjin think he is? His lips are bitten and a little red from chapstick. And from you kissing him before arriving at the restaurant for your reservation. The top two buttons of his shirt are undone, giving you a few of his collarbones and the necklace around his neck.

Your face feels hot. It’s probably the alcohol. Jin knows that look on your face. The one where you’re impatient. The one where you just want him and want him and want him.

He’ll take care of you. He always will.

***

“My pretty wifey,” Jin murmurs, face buried in your neck as he rocks into you slowly. The hot, slow glide of his cock burns in the best way, leaving you sated and wanting more at the same time.

“My gorgeous girl,” Jin says and you whine, clenching around him. Your legs wrap around his waist and he groans, dotting your skin in kisses. He’s all around you, coating you in a pillowy haze. Your lipstick stains his lips, fading on his neck and his glistening chest.

“Can’t believe you did this for me,” He groans, fingers ghosting over your bare, sensitive pussy. (Yes, you’d gotten a wax before vacation. As it had been a while, and you wanted to see Jin’s reaction.)

“Fuck, Jin,” You sigh. You feel a little dazed, a little airy. “Feel so fucking good. You’re so… big, always feel so fucking good.”

Your clothes are strewn about in various corners of the Airbnb, both of you too hasty and impatient to get your hands on each other after dinner and a short walk on the beach. Honestly, you would’ve fucked him out on the beach if he allowed you to. The way the moonlight hit his eyes just made your brain shut off and think lewd thoughts of only him.

You’ve cum at least three times now, and Jin shows no signs of stopping. Truthfully, neither do you- you can keep up with him and he can keep up with you. It’s part of what’s made you both work so well.

“Good, baby?” Jin mumbles. He doesn’t give you time to answer before gathering you in his arms and sitting you up. Your tits are plastered to his chest, and you can’t help but snake a hand in between you both and playfully twist his nipple. The angle of his cock in you is deeper than before and you struggle to stave off the need to cum.

“Yeah,” You say faintly.

“What’s on the agenda tomorrow?” Jin asks quietly, slowing and stopping his movements. You whine again when he stops moving inside of you.

“Shh, baby,” Jin says, “Just wanna be with you like this. What’re we doing tomorrow?”

“Seriously?” You grunt, trying to get some friction on your clit but he halts your movements with a large hand on your hips. You pinch his nipple hard and he yelps. “You wanna talk about our itinerary tomorrow when you’re balls deep inside me-”

“Yeah, I gotta plan ahead,” Jin snorts.

“Um,” You mumble, trying to gain your wits about you, “The market. A-and the distillery, and then…”

“And then?” Jin purrs in your ear, nipping your earlobe.

“And then the elephant sanctuary. Maybe Bangla road a-at night,” You reply, pressing your face into his neck.

“Good girl,” Jin breathes and you whimper into his skin, “My smart, wonderful, amazing wifey-”

“Wanna be your wife forever,” The words slip out of your mouth without you meaning to, as they usually do. Something about Jin calling you his wife like that sets you ablaze, makes you possessive for a man already yours.

“Good thing we’re married then, huh?” Jin jokes and you let out a breathless laugh.

“Baby,” You exhale, “Wanna cum. Wanna cum so bad, wanna feel my hubby’s cum-”

Jin groans into your neck, biting your clavicle lightly. “You’re so impatient,” He chides lightly.

“Will you move-”

“I told you to wait-”

“Fine, I’ll just,” You push him on his back roughly and press your palms to his chest and sigh happily when you finally get the friction you’re craving as you begin to bounce on his cock. Jin squeezes your hips, your tits and pulls you closer to him to mouth at your chest. He wraps a hand around your neck lightly as you try to keep your rhythm steady and your breaths stutter.

You ignore the burn in your thighs in favor of clenching around his cock and focusing on how full you feel.

Jin’s eyes are hooded, zeroed in on you exactly how you like them to be. He can sense when you’re beginning to get tired, holding your hips tightly and taking control over to slam his hips into yours. He stays focused on the way your lips part in a delicious ‘o’ and he pulls your face close to his harshly to capture your lips in a bruising kiss. You whimper into his mouth as he slams into you, his hips pistoning and your voice growing louder and louder.

He circles your clit, moves the same hand to your lips and pushes his thumb into your mouth and you eagerly accept his finger. Spit coats his thumb and he hums in approval.

You cum abruptly and unexpectedly, pleasure washing over you in waves at the simple clasp of his big hand around your neck. His cock is still throbbing inside you, pace relentless. Tears gather around your waterline from oversensitivity but you murmur for him to cum, you tell him how much you want his cum in you and he moans your name in your ear before emptying himself in your pussy.

“I love you,” You mumble, wrapping your arms around his neck and gripping his necklace lightly. He wipes any stray moisture from your eyes and kisses your forehead.

“I love you,” Jin says hoarsely. Jin tries to pull out but you protest, wanting to lay with him for a few moments longer. At some point, you end up dozing off in his arms and Jin cleans you both up before tucking you into bed.

You feel the faint brush of his lips on your forehead and bury yourself into his side before you tumble into sleep.

FOUR. long days.

you.

You woke up this morning with a migraine (truly one of the worst ways to wake up). Despite taking medicine after it became too excruciating to bear and increasing your water intake, your head was still throbbing nearly twelve hours later.

Not to mention, everyone at work was grating on your last nerve. It seemed that everyone wanted a piece of you today and you were getting pulled in a million different directions. You didn’t even have time to do the things you needed to do.

The only people who you were able to speak to without feeling like ripping your hair out were Namjoon and Jungkook. Even they told you that you should probably go home early, since it looked like you were about to pass out. Namjoon offered to call Jin to pick you up, but you refused quickly.

Being in your office was making your migraine worse. So by 3 PM, you pack your stuff up and head out without bidding anybody goodbye.

Your feet ache, your head is pounding, you’re hungry and you could absolutely scream. You rest your forehead on your steering wheel before pulling out of your parking space with bleary eyes. Your suit feels stifling today, and it feels difficult to breathe.

You want Jin, you’ve wanted Jin since you arrived at work and everything went to shit. But you can’t bear to listen to a single sound over your speakers so you just wait until you get home.

***

“You’re home early,” Jin says, looking up at you from his glasses at the dining table. You say nothing, only dropping your backpack to the floor and climbing into his lap tiredly.

“Oh, honey,” Jin murmurs, kissing your hair and rubbing your shoulder. Your eyes are closed and you hum into his neck.

“My head hurts a lot,” You say quietly into his skin, “Today sucked.”

“Let’s go get you changed, honey.”

Bomi follows both of you upstairs, sitting in her bed as Jin changes you out of your work clothes. He starts with your suit jacket, peeling it off easily and hanging it back up in your closet. Then, he pulls your button-up from the waistband of your pants and unbuttons your shirt slowly, pressing a soft kiss to your skin with each button that comes undone. Jin easily unclasps your bra, letting his fingers trail over your skin, before pulling one of his shirts over your head.

You’re already feeling a little better.

Jin pushes your pants down your legs and taps the back of your thighs so he can pull your favorite sweatpants up. “Gotta take your makeup off, baby.”

You make a noise of acknowledgment and allow him to take you to the bathroom, where he gently washes away the remnants of your day (after he washes his hands).

After he moisturizes your face with a tender touch, he pulls you into his chest for a long hug. His hands roam your back from under his shirt and you sigh.

“Can we nap,” You mumble, eyes already closing.

Jin nods and carries you to bed, making sure to draw the curtains closed to envelope you both in as much darkness as possible. He tucks you in before stepping away for a minute, but you’re already being beckoned towards sleep. “Baby, take medicine,” Jin murmurs, holding two pills and a glass of water in his hand. You sit up with a wince and do as he says.

“Good girl,” Jin says, cradling your cheek and crawling into bed with you. Jin turns on his side and drapes himself over you. He smiles when you sigh contentedly and he kisses your hair, coaxing you further into sleep with a few rubs of your belly.

Your soft snores fill the room and Jin only hopes you wake up feeling a little better.

***

jin.

Jin can’t seem to knock this metaphorical wall down, no matter how much coffee he chugs, how long he sits in the home office, how long he stares at his laptop screen.

Writer’s block. What a pain.

He runs a hand through his already messy hair and catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He looks like shit- bags under his eyes, fatigued, zapped of energy and motivation.

But he has a deadline coming up in the next few months and he has absolutely nothing to show for it. He had had success with his first short story, but he’d called it beginner’s luck. Then came the second story, and the third.

And now here he is. Riding on the coattails of his initial success. Maybe this is how far his mild talent would take him. Maybe this is all he can put out into the world.

It was nice while it lasted.

Jin huffs loudly. He knows you’d scold him for thinking such thoughts, for wallowing like this. You’d kiss him, murmur words of comfort and tell him that you believe in him.

He wants you, he wants you to hold him. A sudden wave of sadness and inadequacy washes over him.

Jin will just wait for you to get home. Until then, he’ll lay in bed and wallow in self-pity. Just how he likes.

***

You know something is wrong when Jin doesn’t reply to your texts after a few hours or send you a silly meme, or a corny joke as he usually does. He could be busy, but you just have a feeling.

So when you come home to see Bomi and Jin cuddled in bed, you only softly sigh. Jin rarely takes afternoon naps- it’s clear he’s upset.

“Jin?” You murmur, “Everything okay, baby?” You kneel on the floor of the side of the bed he’s facing and push his hair from his eyes. Jin blearily looks at you with fatigue in the lines of his face.

“No,” He says, voice muffled, “Lay with me? But take your outside clothes off.”

You bite your tongue, wanting to say “when have I ever laid in bed in outside clothes” but you refrain. You quickly wash up and change into comfy clothes and slide into bed to wrap your arms around his waist. You press your nose to his neck and drop a kiss there.

Jin relaxes immediately in your hold, finally able to get his mind to stop going a million miles a minute. Your hands are soothing and gentle around him, you wrap your legs around his to cocoon him in your embrace.

“Wanna talk about it, baby?” You murmur, dropping a kiss to the back of his ear.

“I just,” Jin sighs, “This story. I feel so stuck, and they want the first draft in a few weeks and I have nothing- I mean, what if this is it. This is all I could put out into the universe and… I felt like I was finally doing something great, something I loved. I felt like I was finally getting started-”

“Oh, sweetheart,” You coo, “It’s scary doing something amazing and feeling like you can’t replicate the same success. Or the same quality end result. Maybe you just need a break, honey. For a few days. And I’m sure if you ask for an extension, they’ll understand. You have so many words in this pretty head, baby. You have so many stories to tell.”

Jin turns in your arms, his eyes a little wet. You cup his cheek tenderly and he leans into your touch.

“You work so hard baby,” You murmur, “You’re so hard on yourself. Be patient with yourself.”

“I love you,” He mutters, pulling you in for a hug, “I love you. Even if you did wear outside clothes in bed, I love you.”

FIVE. nasa.

Falling in love with Seokjin came naturally- you had met him in one of your shared college classes in undergrad during your second year of college, and had become acquaintances that way. It had taken you longer to become real friends with him, but it hadn’t taken you long at all to realize how attracted you were to him.

You wanted him and he wanted you, as he drunkenly told you over shitty vodka shots at the bar that your mutual friends were celebrating their twenty-first birthdays at. He was so shy at the time, he still is sometimes, that you could understand how much it took for him to admit it to you. Whether it was out of intoxication or not. Of course, it had taken some time for you to get your shit together with each other. But the rest was history.

College sweethearts. You can still remember what it felt like in the beginning, how he made your heart grow ten sizes in your chest and made you feel like you were in the clouds. You can remember because you still feel it now, over ten years later. Give or take.

You remember your friends and your older cousins telling you that it wouldn’t work- that you were two very different people. You were too uptight, you didn’t take risks, you were not Seokjin’s type at all. Sure, maybe it seemed that way on paper. But the more you knew him and grew to love him, the more you felt like he was the missing piece of your puzzle.

You’ve long let go of the doubts of people around you. And it was even more bothersome that your own friends and family questioned your judgment. Because his friends and his family loved you. They sang your praises whether you were present or not, and his friends and family had slowly become your friends and family, too.

It made you happy beyond happy.

But there were some times when you and Jin were not on the same wavelength, and today was one of those days. You both fought here and there, like any couple did. But it had been a long time since you both fought like this.

You were both spending the day at the park with Bomi and then furniture shopping for a new coffee table. Jin had been inspired to redo the decor in the living room and you were basking in his inspiration.

But the morning had first started with you spilling your coffee and subsequently breaking your mug when it had slipped right out of your hands. You had then cut yourself on one of the sharper pieces after ensuring that Bomi was in her crate so she wouldn’t get hurt because of your stupidity-

Jin comes bounding down the stairs with panicked, wide eyes when he sees you pouting and holding a cloth to your hand. He looks down at the spilt coffee and the broken pieces of your mug and sighs.

You clean up the broken pieces with Jin and he checks your hands and feet afterwards. He helps you bandage your hand up, even though it’s a superficial cut. “Clumsy,” Jin snorts, “You’d lose your head if you didn’t have me.”

It had been such a small thing, but then a few other small things started adding up. Bomi peed on the rug before you had left for the park.

And to top it all off, Jin’s shoulder has been bothering him more than usual. His shoulder pain has been flaring up over the last few months, and despite your attempts to coax him into physical therapy or at least a doctor’s visit, he stubbornly refuses to. Something about it just being a part of getting older, or something.

Every time you try telling him to see a doctor, it ends in a minuscule fight and Jin shuts the conversation down. You can’t understand what the big deal is. Maybe there’s something more going on, something he’s not sharing with you.

This morning is one of those days that his shoulder is aching more than it usually does. You offer to drive to the park, but he grits his teeth and tells you that he can handle it.

You let it go for now.

At the park, Jin relaxes considerably, running around and playing with Bomi. There are some other dogs around so you and Jin let Bomi play with them, chatting with the other dog parents around you. Bomi is still getting used to being around other dogs, so you’re both happy to see her meshing well.

Bomi begins to tire herself out, curling at your feet and panting. Indicating that she’s tired and thirsty. Maybe a little hungry.

“Hi Bomi baby,” You coo, “Want some water and treats? Come, baby.”

“Wanna head out soon? We gotta check out the furniture store still,” Jin murmurs to you and you nod. He seems impatient, tapping his foot against the grass but you say nothing.

You rub his back fleetingly once Bomi finishes her treats and you carry her leash in your hand, your other hand in Jin’s. He’s tense, eyes narrowed in concentration and you think you know why. You think his shoulder is bothering him and he’s being stubborn about it.

You put Bomi in the backseat, stopping Jin from getting in the driver’s seat for a second. “Hey,” You mumble, taking your hands in his, “I’ll drive-”

“No, I’ll drive,” He says it with a note of finality and you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“I know your shoulder hurts, love,” You try to say as gently as you can, “Let me do it.”

“I’m fine,” Jin insists, stubbornness dripping from his tone, “Get in the car. I’m fine.”

You huff, rolling your eyes. The car ride is quiet, tension filling the spaces between you. You want to say something, you really do. But you don’t want to upset him further when he’s driving.

But then you see him wince and groan softly in pain with his hands on the steering wheel.

“Seokjin, pull over,” You say a little firmly. A little annoyed that he let it get this far.

“I can’t just pull over,” He hisses, “Besides, I’m fine, I’ll get us home-”

“We were supposed to go to the furniture store,” You roll your eyes, “But you’re right, pull over so I can drive us home. And I’m calling the doc once we get home-”

“No!” Jin exclaims, “I’m not fucking pulling over-”

“Why not? I’m literally telling you that I’ll drive! Baby, please-”

Jin rarely ever loses his patience with you, but today is just one of those days. “You should’ve fucking driven then,” He somehow has the audacity to say.

“You’re joking right? I told you multiple times I would drive,” You refrain from raising your voice, “You won’t call the doctor, you won’t see a physical therapist. What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“Leave it alone! You’re supposed to fucking leave it alone,” Seokjin says, not holding back the irritation on his tongue. The hoops on his ears dangle and bounce when he looks at you quickly.

He ignores the hurt on your face and watches it transform into anger.

“Alright, I’ll just fucking leave it alone, since you’re doing such a great job of taking care of it yourself,” You mutter.

“Don’t- don’t scold me under your breath,” He says, more like yells, “A-and quit nagging me about it, fuck!”

The irritation in your belly vanishes quickly, hiding behind your hurting heart. You turn away from him, facing the passenger side window so he doesn’t see your eyes beginning to water.

Jin sighs, already realizing his error. You hate when anyone raises their voice at you, much less when it’s him. Shit. He has to fix this, but damn, you can be pushy when you want to be.

You sniffle.

“I’m sorry,” Jin says instantly, “Baby, I’m sorry I yelled.”

“Just drive, Seokjin,” You sigh, wiping your eyes.

So you both sit in silence.

***

“Baby,” Jin begs, “Please, baby, say something.”

“I don’t know what to say,” You mumble, his words ringing clear in your head. You had put Bomi in her bed, as she had somehow fallen asleep despite you and Jin arguing.

So now you’re both standing in the living room, looking at each other sadly. “Can I hug you?” Jin asks, walking towards you with outstretched arms. He dwarfs over you but you stand limply in his arms, your own arms hanging awkwardly at your side.

“Baby,” Jin pleads with you, cradling your cheek.

You’ve had worse fights with him in the past. But you knew him, you knew he wouldn’t lash out like this normally.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” You say bluntly, “And don’t lie to me and say everything’s fine. This isn’t just about your shoulder, so what is it?”

Of course you’d know that he was hiding something. You’re his other half after all, so he shouldn’t be surprised.

Jin sighs, rubbing his face tiredly. “I just…” He whispers.

“Tell me, baby,” You say reassuringly, hand on his chest, “It’s just me.”

He squeezes his eyes shut to gather his thoughts before opening his mouth and giving himself the chance to hurt your feelings again. “I just...I feel like I have no reason to get sick. To be in pain, I mean, what am I doing? I’m just at home, anyway-”

“Seokjin,” You murmur in a hushed whisper, “You’re not just at home-”

“I just feel- inadequate sometimes lately,” Jin says, his eyes wide and vulnerable, “I feel stuck and like… unsettled. I just want to be a husband you can be proud of. I’m sorry I yelled at you in the car.”

“Honey,” You cup his face with love in your eyes, “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out together, okay? You can tell me anything, when you’re ready. I hate pushing you to open up but sometimes you just need it, baby.

“I’ll always be proud of you no matter what. You are my dream babe, so supportive and loving and I always feel safe with you. If you want to work again, we’ll figure it out. If you want to write something else, we’ll figure it out. I’ll always be proud of you, but I want you to be proud of you, too. I love you.

“And you can make it up to me with dinner,” You joke, pulling a laugh from him.

“I’m really sorry,” Jin says, pulling you in for a proper hug. This time you reciprocate and hold him close.

“I know, love,” You murmur, “I know.”

SIX. question and answer.

Seokjin had quit his job about two years before you both had gotten married. He’d been dreaming about finally putting his dream of being a true storyteller to the test, and you had supported him. You’d read through his drafts and his manuscripts and encouraged him to pursue it full time. After all, you made enough to sustain you both and then some. And it’s not like he wasn’t making any money at all- he did freelance work with his writing for the most part.

He was good, he was more than good. He was great. Jin was a natural born storyteller, knowing exactly when to focus on details and when to zoom out and focus on the big picture. The way he wrote his stories genuinely felt like he was spinning words out of gold thread when you read what he wrote.

And he’d blush, the tips of his ears going red, when you said that to him with such conviction because you meant it.

Jin would get his big break soon, you were sure of it. But honestly, Jin was content like this. Freelancing his work, writing and keeping up with his new ideas and stories. It was one of the greatest gifts of his life, he thinks.

You and Jin are both content with your lives. You both find new ways to excite each other and new ways to fall even deeper in love with each other. It’s funny because your wedding hadn’t really even been planned. You both would have been content to exist as boyfriend and girlfriend until the end of time, but the idea of being his wife and of him being your husband was too mesmerizing for you both to let go of.

Neither of you wanted anything big or flashy. In fact, the way Jin had brought it up had been over breakfast (which in itself was so very him)-

“I wanna be yours forever,” Jin says bluntly, syrup at the corner of his mouth.

“Is that a proposal or are you just saying that,” You tease but his eyes are serious.

“Do you want it to be a proposal? I know we’ve talked about marriage and how what we are now is enough for both of us. I know you love me and I know I love you. But… god, I want to be your husband. I want you to be my wife.”

“Okay,” You shrug, “So let’s get married.”

“That’s it?”

“Does it need to be any more complicated?” You ask, “Like you said. I already know I want to be with you forever. Let’s make it official. Besides… I wanna be your pretty wifey. Don’t you want that?”

And that was that. You told your parents and he told his parents that you’d be getting married in court, and they had respectively scolded you both for not telling them before or planning anything. But nevertheless, they still came and they were witnesses at the court wedding. Only a few friends had come (you’d only invited a few)- the guys and some of your girls.

Jungkook had cried along with your mother.

You and Jin at least had a small get together with your friends and family to celebrate a little bit. Your parents were a little miffed that they didn’t have a chance to have an elaborately planned wedding for their eldest daughter, but they knew you. They knew you wouldn’t have wanted all of that.

“At least they told you and invited us to come,” Your brother says, rolling his eyes at your mother.

But it’s inevitable that for the last few years, the question of whether you both would ever grace your respective parents with grandchildren comes up repeatedly. Your parents are harder on you and more incessant than Jin’s parents are.

Many family gatherings have ended with you losing your temper with your parents, specifically your mother and your aunts. Your patience runs out quickly with them and Jin knows it. It’s part of the reason why you’ve been distancing yourself from your mother and aunts- it’s exhausting and tiresome to keep having the same conversation. Jin has been witness to your frustrated tears one too many times to count. First, they’d bug you about when you and Jin would get married. And now, they bug you about when you’ll have children.

You and Jin are happy right now. Neither of you had explicitly decided that you didn’t want kids. You’re both just taking it easy. And your family can’t seem to understand that.

Of course, you’ve both talked about kids together. And you’ve thought about whether you were meant to have kids extensively. Truthfully, you never really saw it becoming a reality.

But again… not right now. Maybe later. Or maybe not ever. The decision will come when it comes. It’s been years, and your feelings haven’t changed one way or another.

Your mother says you’re too laid back. Which is funny, because when she met Jin for the first time, she told you that you were too uptight for him.

Jin’s family doesn’t push either of you. His mother treats you like her own daughter, and for that you’re grateful. You’ve heard stories from friends about shitty in-laws, and you’re glad that Jin’s family is your own family.

The Kims are having a small party on this gorgeous summer evening- you and Jin are in attendance, along with his brother, his brother’s wife, and their two kids, and a few of Jin’s aunts, uncles and cousins.

Jin seems to sense that you’re both about to get ambushed by his mother and his aunts in the kitchen after drinks and dinner before you do. You stand closer to him, subtly squeezing his hand in yours. He grips your hand and squeezes back.

At least he’s with you, and you don’t have to fend for yourself, you think dryly.

“You ladies got something to say?” Jin says, his jaw starting to tick. He’s getting upset and you rub your thumb over his hand.

“We only want what’s best for you,” His mom says with a sigh, “You’re both getting older, when will you have kids-”

You swallow a lump down as your throat goes dry and the urge to cry overwhelms you.

“Stop,” Jin warns, his voice low, “We’re not doing this. Not here, not now.”

“We haven’t said anything for this long,” His aunt complains. You want to melt into the floor.

Are you the problem?

“Do you want a trophy for minding your own business?” Jin says, glaring at his aunt, who cowers with the heat in his stare. You can’t find your voice, so you let Jin speak for both of you.

“Don’t speak to your aunt like that,” His mother scolds Jin but he’s not having it.

“I will, if any of you speak to my wife and I like this,” Jin hisses, “We’re leaving.”

Jin squeezes your hand and you refuse to let go of him. Your vision is blurry from unshed tears and Jin notices. You manage to hold it in while you grab your purse, until you get to the car and let a few tears fall before shoving your face into his chest and sobbing.

“I know, baby,” Jin sighs, rubbing your back soothingly, “I’m sorry. Let’s go home.”

***

“I don’t know what to say,” You mumble into his chest. You had both immediately changed into night clothes to cuddle in bed, with Bomi in your arms.

“I’m tired,” Jin sighs, “Tired of them asking. Tired of everyone asking us.”

“I’m sorry,” You say, looking up at him, “They’re our family.”

“Doesn’t mean they get to be the way they are,” Jin rolls his eyes.

“I know,” You reply, “I’m running out of things to say to them. We’re gonna push everyone away if we keep this up.”

You say the last part jokingly, but you both know it’s a very real possibility. It’s becoming harder and harder for you both to give them the benefit of the doubt, to say that they only ask out of their own good intentions. It’s beginning to hurt you more and more.

“Maybe they need to be pushed away,” Jin mumbles, “If it means getting some peace of mind and not feeling like this whenever we see our families, maybe it’s worth it.”

“Maybe.”

A beat of comfortable silence.

“Do you want kids?” Jin asks bluntly, “It’s been a while since we actually talked about it. Just want to make sure nothing has changed.”

“No, not now,” You murmur, “Maybe someday. It’s such a hard question to answer. I don’t want to say no definitively but I don’t want to say yes definitively either… Do you want kids?”

“Maybe someday,” Jin echoes, “We can revisit in a few months. Or next year. Whenever we feel like it. Because it’s our decision.”

“Your mom is right,” You sigh, “I am getting older, you know. If we do want kids, we should seriously start thinking about it soon.”

“There are other ways to have kids,” Jin says pointedly, “When we’re both ready. Not because we feel like we have to.”

“Okay,” You say softly, “I love you.”

It’s that simple and that’s that. (For now, at least.)

SEVEN. together.

As you and Seokjin had tumbled out of your late twenties, you both found yourself preferring boozy brunch to nights out. At least with boozy brunch, you could recuperate during the day so you weren’t hungover for the entirety of the next day.

That’s not to say that you didn’t enjoy a night out every so often with your friends. You liked going out more than Jin did, even when you were in college.

So it was no surprise that at Taehyung’s boozy birthday brunch, you were well on your way to being drunk and Jin was, too. It had been a long time since you had seen your friends- it really only feels like you see each other for birthdays or big events. You miss the days of college, when you could see each other at the drop of a hat. It never felt this busy even in the years right after college. In the early years, even though most of them were younger than you and Jin, it still felt like there was more time.

It makes you feel nostalgic. You hear Jungkook teasing Jin (as he often does) and Jin dramatically responding. His cheeks are flushed red, the flush creeping down to his neck.

God, he looks so good.

You tear your eyes away from him when Taehyung’s girlfriend calls your name. She asks if you want to dance and you immediately say fuck yes, and stand up with her and with Sunmi to head to the dance floor with two drinks in your hands.

You can feel Jin’s eyes on your backside- you know you looked good. The pink crop top you had chosen for brunch was tight around your chest and you know these dark wash jeans and short heels (coincidentally your favorite) made your legs and your ass look fantastic.

Not that you didn’t look fantastic at all hours of the day. But you like being reminded that your man cannot get enough of you.

You’re careful with your drinks, ensuring that not a single drop is wasted while you dance with your friends. It’s been a long time since you’ve been able to let loose like this, and it makes you happy to be surrounded by friends that you love.

Sunmi’s hands are on your hips as you throw your head back in loose laughter. You’re vaguely aware of someone taking selfies of the three of you. Mostly, you can feel Jin’s lazy gaze on you, and a few other eyes as well.

You’ll give your husband something to watch, alright.

***

Somehow, it’s only 3 PM when it feels like it's 11 PM. And somehow, Taehyung is eager to go to the club at night, after an afternoon of reckless drinking. You and Jin exchange a wordless look, already knowing where your head is at.

“Yah… just let us know where the pregame is,” Jin says and Taehyung beams at him, “We’ll take a power nap until then.”

You feel bad that you and Jin probably won’t be going out, but you don’t want to dim his excitement. And honestly, knowing your friends, they’d all hype themselves up after an entire afternoon of drinking only to crash, pass out, and order in to chill.

“I don’t really wanna go,” You complain once you’re both in the comfort of your home, changed and ready for a nap.

“Jungkook told me that they’re all crashing anyway,” Jin says.

“Besides, I wanna blow you when you wake up,” You say sleepily.

“Why not now,” Jin whines, “Look at me, I’m already half hard. Help me.”

“I’ll puke on your dick if I suck you off right now.”

“Not like it hasn’t happened before-”

“Seokjin!”

“Ugh, fine,” Jin says dramatically, “I’ll just suffer then.”

“Okay, then perish.”

EIGHT. self.

Jin likes lists. He’s a big fan of crossing things off of his lists (which he keeps in his planner and his journal depending on what he makes lists for), and there are very few things as satisfying as completing a task from his list.

He’s a huge stationery enthusiast, only allowing both himself and you to use materials that he deemed satisfactory. He’s recently come across the magic that is washi tape, thanks to Namjoon.

Today, he’s taking Bomi out for a walk and to the nearby dog park, then he’s going to outline some new story ideas in his notebook (to later add to his drive on his laptop), and then he’s visiting baby Jia and Jimin with Yoongi and Holly.

Inspiration seems to be flooding through his pores these days, and he’ll ride that wave for as long as he can.

After seeing Jia and Jimin, he’ll stop by the grocery store and restock some on veggies, spices and meat. Routinely, you and Jin switch on who makes dinner for the week. You do enjoy cooking (it’s your time to decompress) but you’ll gladly admit that your man cooks better than you.

He claims that his secret ingredient is love. You think it’s because he’s more patient than you.

Sunday mornings at least twice a month are spent baking with Jin. You both like trying and making new things together. Sometimes it comes out great, and sometimes it doesn’t.

Jin also picks up some of your shared favorite snacks, two new bottles of wine to try, and a bag of clementines.

***

Initially, the quiet of the house without you felt a bit stifling at times. And once Bomi came into the picture, it became a little more lively. And then Jin had taken some plant recommendations and tips from Namjoon. He takes care of them meticulously, and you even have two succulents on your office desk that Jin had surprised you with.

And then you had surprised him with a record player with a few vinyls of his favorite albums and artists.

You both had made it a home project after purchasing the record player to build a sturdy, wooden audio rack together. Of course, it had taken months to finish (and if you had called Jin your sexy lumberjack husband and taken photos of him posing with the table together, then that was your business).

Jin puts some music on the record player before taking Bomi’s harness off and letting her stretch her legs. He puts the vegetables and the meat in the fridge and fills up a glass of water (as well as Bomi’s water bowl).

Maybe he’ll put a candle on and work from the couch.

Jin usually prefers working in his house with music faintly playing in the background. But sometimes, he likes working with Yoongi in his studio. Somehow, the feeling and sound of Yoongi working on his own music puts Jin in the right headspace to write and get his words on paper.

Jin puts his head down and loses track of time as he types away, tapping his foot to the music in time with the beat. Bomi curls up to his side and rests her head on his thigh.

It must be about two hours later, when his phone starts ringing. It’s Hoseok calling and Jin picks up instantly, knowing that he’s been having a tough time recently. Hoseok had taken the week off to get his thoughts sorted, and it’s clear that he wants (or needs) some company. So Jin tells him to come over and he warms up some leftovers and prepares some snacks.

Hoseok and Jin end up lying in bed together, under the duvet with Bomi in Hoseok’s arms. Jin turns the music up, as it’s comforting to hear in the silence. He doesn’t push him to talk, unless he really wants to. Eventually, with a sigh, he does.

It’s almost disconcerting, seeing the pull of Hoseok’s lips into a sharp frown. He’s usually so happy, and smiley, sunshine personified. But he is only human and he is not immune to hard days and generally feeling this way.

Jin only holds Hoseok close to him as he tells him how he’s been feeling the last few weeks. Months really. The words stumble out, forcing their way out of his throat (and some tears do, too).

Jin only rubs his friend’s arm reassuringly and listens.

***

You find Jin and Hoseok tucked away in your bed and you’re sure to be quiet and light on your feet when you arrive home from work. You let them have their time together, only saying hello to them when you arrive and start preparing dinner with a glass of wine in your hands.

“You don’t-” Hoseok protests, and you hold your hand up before he can even finish his sentence.

“Stay for dinner, Hobi. It’s been a while,” You murmur with a soft smile, “Besides, Jin got new wine and we’d love to try some with you.”

So he stays, and you see him smile genuinely for the first time in a long time.

NINE. to the nines.

“I love being your arm candy,” Jin murmurs into your ear when you both walk into the swanky hotel together, “Because I’m the only 11 in the room.”

“You’re so full of it,” You roll your eyes, swatting his chest playfully. Truthfully, you enjoy these events so much more when Jin is with you. You can hardly stand being in the room with these many people from work when you don’t have to be.

But being with Jin makes things like this bearable. Enjoyable, even.

It’s the director’s retirement party, and nearly everyone at the company is here for the party. You spot Jungkook and Namjoon with their respective significant others near the open bar and immediately make a beeline for them.

“Hey,” You murmur, giving them each a tight hug, “You all clean up very nicely.”

“Yah! You didn’t even tell me that when we left the house,” Jin pouts and you roll your eyes. Again.

A lie, and you both know it.

“Let’s make a drinking game out of this shindig,” You mutter and everyone looks on with interested eyes, “Every time you see your boss-”

“You don’t need to make a drinking game outta it,” Jungkook says, wrapping an arm around his date’s shoulders, “We’re already tipsy-”

“Of course you are,” Seokjin rolls his eyes, “Wouldn’t expect anything less-”

“Don’t come for me, I know you both took tequila shots before getting here-”

You leave Jin and Jungkook bickering and walk with Namjoon and his date to the open bar.

“What do you two feel like having,” You muse, “Let’s get this party going, everyone looks like they’re wasted or like they’d rather be anywhere but here.”

“Should we be networking,” Namjoon muses, taking a look around the ballroom.

“I only network from eight to five pm on weekdays and after that I need a six month notice in advance if I’m being forced to network,” You say flatly, “Let’s just enjoy, Joon.”

“If you say so, boss,” Namjoon grins good-naturedly at you. You hand out your respective drinks, beckoning Jin towards you and have a quiet cheers together.

You’re happy to be with your friends, and with Jin, even if it’s a work event that you have an unspoken obligation to attend.

***

It appears that Taemin does not quite see the ring on your finger- or he sees it and he willfully ignores it. Or it’s the alcohol and he’s just being far more flirty than usual. Either way, you take it in stride and dip out of the conversation as soon as you can to make your way back to Jin.

Who had been watching the whole interaction with amused eyes.

“Are you jealous?” You ask with a sugary grin.

“Yeah, definitely,” Jin rolls his eyes, “Jealous that your coworker caught five minutes of your time. Should I go rough him up?”

“I love when you protect my honor,” You wink at him, rubbing his chest absently, “It’s so sexy.”

“I love you,” Jin says abruptly, “I’m proud to be the person on your arm, you know that?”

“Yeah,” You say dreamily, “I love you.”

You and Jin end up finishing the night with Jungkook, Namjoon and their dates at a nearby pizza place. Even if you look out of place in fancy formal wear, none of you pay it any mind.

Neither you nor Jin particularly prefer PDA, but you can’t help but lean your head against his shoulder when you start to yawn. You’re struggling to stay present in the conversation and Jin’s warmth next to you is pushing you closer and closer to sleep.

You end up dozing off without realizing it, and Jin adjusts himself so that your head is comfortably resting on his shoulder. Everyone is sure to keep their voices down since you’ve fallen into a deep sleep apparently, and once everyone’s finished with their food Jin hesitates to wake you up.

“Honey,” Jin murmurs, shaking your shoulder gently, “The Uber’s almost here. We can go home and go to sleep. A pizza parlor is no place for sleeping.”

It takes a few moments of shaking your shoulder and whispering for you to wake up before Jin just lifts you up and carries you outside. You inhale loudly at the sudden movement and your eyes spring open.

“Jin,” You mumble into his neck, “‘M so tired.”

“I know, baby, we’ll be home soon. Gonna put you down now, alright?”

Your feet hit the ground but you stay in his embrace, eyes still closed and face tucked into his neck. You force your eyes open with a groan and look over his shoulder to see Jungkook and Namjoon in similar embraces with their own dates.

“They’re cute,” You say softly to Jin, “We’re cuter, but they’re still cute.”

“That’s my girl,” Jin grins and pecks your forehead.

“‘M your pretty wifey,” You remind him. As if he needs a reminder.

“‘M your pretty hubby,” Jin says. As if you need the reminder.

He’s your forever, and you’re his forever. Things between you both have always been relatively simple and easy.

And this fact is no different.

tags: @kentobean

#seokjin x reader #seokjin smut #seokjin fluff #seokjin #seokjin x you

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jayankles · 3 years ago

Text

The Culmination: Endgame

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Word Count: 2362

Summary: Y/N doesn’t feel so good and it’s not like her to not answer the phone to Sebastian. He was right to send over Josie, Y/N’s friend, over to find out what’s wrong.

Warnings: Angst, Implied Smut, Fluff

Written for: @anyfandomangstbingo | @anyfandomfluffbingo | @anyfandomgoesbingo

Squares Filled: Sick fic | first time | “I really don’t like doing this over the phone”

A/N - Blake Lively is not a representation of the reader; it’s just for the dress. And the other beautiful woman is exactly who I pictured for Josie.

Feedback is gold and appreciated

Of course, you were sick today. The day that Sebastian had told you that he was to take a day at the gym then spend it with Don. You knew that when you woke up this morning it wasn’t going to be a good day, the cold sheets a little foreshadowing of how your day would have gone. The little guttural feeling you had punching you in the gut right now, it had you on the floor, bent over the toilet seat with your head in the bowl.

You felt awful. Unable to move, unless it was your throat spasming. Definitely the worst day so far, you couldn’t move and when you finally were able to move at all you felt like a robot. Not a good look.

You decided that it was time to head back to bed, none of your food would stay down so you made yourself a bottle of water and stumbled into bed with a bucket in your hand, ready to put the bucket on the floor beside your bed.

Pulling at the covers, you curled up under them and took a swig of your drink. Tears rolled down your face as you felt the pain grow stronger, you rubbed your stomach in hopes it would make you feel better; it didn’t.

All you could do was pray that you would fall asleep to not feel this pain anymore. Sleep evaded you. The pain is all there is that you feel. You threw up another three times before you finally succumbed to the pleasures of sleep. Rattling of keys had been the object that had drawn you out of your few moments of slumber. You didn’t dare move though, there was no point, you couldn’t move anyway.

“Y/N! Y/N, where are you?” It took you a minute to realise that it was your friend, Josie, shouting your name in hopes of finding you. “Y/N, Whe- There you are. What are you still doing in bed? Oh...”

She looked as if she sighed out a breath of relief before she retracted, covering her mouth and nose with her hand. Inhaling the stench of the room, she quickly ran out of there, returning with air freshener, spraying it around you to make her feel better.

“You need a bath, babe. Stay here and I’ll run you one. Of course you’re going to stay here, you poor thing.” Josie rambled, you stopped her before she could go on for another hour.

“Jo, pour some lavender in there. Love you.”

Freshly out of the bath after thirty minutes, you were wrapped up in Sebastian’s bathrobe, a reminder that he was home as it still smelt like him. “I hate feeling like this. It sucks. But I feel better already.”

Josie softly smiled at you, pity in her eyes. “Must have been that nap you took but I know it sucks. Could you imagine Seb with this kinda illness, though? It would be 100% worse just because it’s man flu.”

“Thank you for being here.” You said, taking a seat on the couch. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Seb called, said he tried texting and video chatting you but you wouldn’t pick up. I guess he was right to have me come over and check on you.”

“He’s such a cutie.” You groaned as you walked, the bath only slightly relieving some of the pain.

“I know. It makes me wanna barf… not like you, though. That shit is nasty, no, thank you, ma’am.” She tutted through a pinched nose, reminding of just how gross you felt and smelt not even a mere hour ago.

“You’re a pleasure as always, Jo. Always so kind to me, when I feel like shit. Thank you.”

She shrugged knowingly, a smirk on her face as she reached forward for the remote, finding a music channel and turning it down a little so it faded into the background becoming nothing but white noise. “So do you know what brought this on? Eat some bad food?”

“I don’t think so, otherwise Seb would feel the same way right?”

“Well you aren’t pooping as well as being sick so this isn’t a viral or bacterial thing. You’re not burning up? No severe migraines?” She asked and you only had one answer.

“Nope. And no, my appendix hasn’t burst because I’ve already had it out.” You said, becoming tired again as you let out a yawn.

“Well, I think I might need to slip out for a little bit.”

“Why? Where are you going? I thought you were going to take care of me?”

“I am. I’m just gonna head to the store and grab you some stuff to make tomato soup. I’ll be twenty minutes tops.” Josie was true to her word, never taking more than the twenty minutes she promised. Putting the bag of groceries on the counter, Josie pulls out the contents, revealing the ingredients she offered to get for you but you could tell that there was something else in the bag.

“What’s in there?”

Josie was fidgety, her fingers twiddling together. “I need you to keep an open mind because I think I know why you’re grossly throwing up.”

“Hit me. I wanna know how I can feel better right now.”

“It’s a good thing that you’re sitting down because…” She paused, making a face that she knew you weren’t going to like. “Because I think you’re pregnant.” her face unchanging as she pulled out the pregnancy test.

Then it hit you.

No.No.No. Fuck!

Hands dancing.

Tongues twining.

Passion blooming.

It was everything you could have asked for when he was away but now that Sebastian was back, you couldn’t keep your hands off of him. You covered every area of the apartment possible.

Oh crap.

“Fuck!”

“Yes you did.” Josie laughed at her own joke, the reaction not quite the same on your end.

“Oh god, Sebastian is going to kill me. He’s never going to want to talk to me. Why was I so stupid? Oh, I’m never gonna hear from him again. I’ll be kicked out. I’ll be a single mother. I’m gonna have to live with you and if I have this baby, you’re gonna hate me, then you’re gonna kick me out too. ”

Josie scoffed at you, helping you scurf back your hair away from your face, making you look into her wide eyes. “First of all, chill. I gotchu, you know I gotchu forever. Sebastian isn’t like that, but if he is you will never see him again and that is a promise and maybe a little bit of a threat. He’ll deserve it if he hurts you so. Just be my alibi if anything ever happens. Just go take the test. Negative? You’re just sick. Positive? You call Sebastian and you talk to him like an adult.”

“Why are you always right? Don’t you ever get sick of it?” You huffed before you smiled at her, squeezing at her hand after taking the small handful of the pregnancy test boxes back to the bathroom.

Five minutes passed and you were holding the peed on sticks in your hand, four out of five of them being positive. “I think I need to call Sebastian, and a doctor.”

After making an appointment with the doctor, you took a deep breath and pressed the button to call Sebastian. He picks up the call pretty quickly and you are not surprised.

“Y/N! Finally! Are you okay? What happened?”

“Hey bubba. I’m fine, just a little sickness. But I really don’t like doing this over the phone. When are you coming home. We need to talk.”

Two months later.

It was the night of the premiere of Avengers: Endgame and you couldn’t be more thrilled for the success that the Marvel Franchise had. It was 10 years of absolute lovable craziness. Thank you, Stan Lee.

You had no idea that you would be here on the aptly coloured, purple carpet with Sebastian after all you would have thought that you would still be with him after the whole pregnancy fiasco but the two of you were able to talk things through. Things were thrown, voices were raised, and tears were shed but still after all of that, Sebastian made the executive decision to calm the two of you down. The stress was no good for anyone at this point. You were both going to be parents; it’s what was established.

The two of you walked hand in hand, palms sweating as the cameras flashed, and photographers called out to each and every star that was involved in the production of Endgame. The culmination of the whole franchise was just so surreal, the fact that it was ending with a bang both made you swell with pride but it also made you a tad emotional because this collection of amazing characters wouldn’t continue but the legacy they left would. And that was what mattered.

“Sebastian! Y/N! Over here!” You heard from one of the interviewers, looking beautiful in her outfit, Sebastian rubbed his thumb across your knuckles, you were going to be okay. He was right there with you and you had done this a few times before. He was there for you.

“Hi.” “Hello. You and Sebastian answered at the same time, making the interviewer laugh.

“Wait, I remember you. I bought you a soup in a thermos and Tom gave you his jacket. I see we got lucky with good weather today, huh?” You said, smiling at her.

“Yes. You remember me?!” The woman turned to the camera looking right into the lens of it. “Guys, I’m fangirling so hard right now. Ah!”

Once the woman got her fangirling out of the way, she moved onto the interview, trying to get any information that she could before the movie premiered. Sebastian took over that one, telling her that there was no way that they were allowed to say anything about the movie other than he was dust.

“Now we’ve got that movie non gossip out of the way. Are you okay to talk freely about your pregnancy?”

You looked to Sebastian, it was his decision just as much as it was yours, you knew that Sebastian wanted to keep his private life separate from his professional acting career. “It’s okay, honey. Go ahead.”

“I think you’re good to go.”

“Thank you. I must say that you do look stunning in that dress.” She gushed, you thanked her, hiding your face a little. You loved this dress, the nude under layer and the little white and purple flowers that scattered across your dress, your bump barely visible through your dress.

“How far along are you?”

“Well, we’re in the first week of the second trimester. So I’m a little more confident when telling you that.”

“That’s amazing. Was the pregnancy planned at all?”

You made a face, sucking in a little air, looking to Sebastian for a little light to be shed on the situation. “Not at all. It was Y/N’s friend that actually realised that her morning sickness wasn’t her having the flu. She felt absolutely awful that morning, it was enough to know that it was bad when I tried to call her and I didn’t get an answer.

“We had our issues, you know, we didn’t know what to do, we're new at this. But I think that it’s important to know that you don’t abandon your family.” Sebastian softly smiled at you, subconsciously putting a hand on your slowly growing stomach. “I guess that is what this franchise is about though, right? It’s about family and- and looking out for one another. Everybody’s got a somebody here and I love that.”

“And Thanos, fucks it all up and snaps his goddamn fingers.” The three of you and the cameraman began to laugh at your little outburst about the mad, purple titan. “God, I can’t wait for the premiere tonight but I’m scared. For everybody. But especially for me, you know, I’m an emotional person anyway, add a hormonal woman to the mix and a whole lot of angst. Get my ice cream and tissues ready, because I’m coming for you, Thanos.”

“I heard that!”

“Love you, Josh. For the record, Josh is a nice guy, the character he plays is a big old sack of balls and I have no idea how he does it so convincingly.” Lovingly, you made eyes at Seb. “But it’s just like my Sebastian, a dark hydra assassin but in reality he’s a big ball of sunshine and goofiness. And I love him for it.”

“This is- this is what gets me.” The interviewer leaned in a little as Sebastian’s voice dropped to a slight whisper. “I know that she is going to be the best mom for our child because Y/N loves everything and everyone and that is a great quality to have but she’s also caring and matches my goofy side but her sass outweighs mine of course, no one can beat that.”

“Aww, he’s making me cry already. Seb,” you whined. “My makeup.”

“Well that's it folks.” The woman spoke, telling the audience that this was one of the cutest interviews that she had ever taken, that she could die happy and quickly saying congratulations before the two of you were whisked away to walk the carpet again and pose for pictures.

“You’re way too good to me, you know that right?” You said to Seb as you admired the sky blue suit he was wearing over his plain white tee. “I never even got to tell them that this baby will have the hottest dad in the world as well as the sweetest man. Thank you for being my baby daddy.”

Unbeknownst to you, the cameras had caught every single moment the two of you shared. The kisses you shared together, were now shared with the world, all over social media. At this point you didn’t care, you only cared about the man in front of you and the baby growing in your stomach. And this god damn movie!

Feedback is gold and appreciated

#anyfandomgoesbingo #anyfandomangstbingo #anyfandomfluffbingo #sebastian x reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan angst #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan x pregnant!reader #sebastian x pregnant!reader #mcu fic #rpf fic #sebastian stan fic #sebastian x reader fluff #queue you!#jayankles #jayankles writes #bailey writes

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yungidreamer · 4 years ago

Text

Day One

I’m not really back but I needed a distraction today so I wrote a little oneshot something. I’m posting this unedited so sorry for any typos or mistakes.

Summary: Yunho has fallen in love with his best friend and a Valentine’s Day together goes from angst to passion with a single heartfelt question.

Wordcount: 5.7k

Content warnings: angsty miscommunications, a little bit of strong language, communication that borders on consent porn (lol), making out, dry humping, protected penetrative sex (M,F). Happy ending.

“Oh hey,” Yunho greeted as he poked his head out through his front door. “You made it! Come on inside. I’m just finishing a few things up.”

“Am I too early?” Her eyes flicked to her watch to check how early she was. “I can always go buy some snacks and come back or something?”

“No, no, no, no,” he rushed to assure her, putting his large hand on her shoulder. “I’ve got all that covered. Come in, come in.” With a nod she stepped in through the door and into the apartment. Slipping off her shoes in the small well near the doorway, she made her way into the very familiar apartment. Two years of friendship meant she had spent hours and hours here studying, eating, and just hanging out. It was familiar and comfortable, almost a second home. He came to her place too, of course, it just depended on the day. It didn’t really matter, neither of them cared. It was all about whatever worked for both of them.

Today it was his place and almost an ordinary day. Almost.

“Why don’t you take a seat,” Yunho gestured at the old fluffy couch that sat across from the television in the living room. “You want a drink?”

“Uh maybe some tea?” She said as she flopped onto the couch. “It’s really cold out there.”

“Yeah, the weather has really been something, hasn’t it?” He chuckled as he walked into the kitchen, raising his voice as he walked to make sure she could still hear him. “I probably should have been a gentleman and come to you, especially given the day.”

“Since when has that been a thing between us?” She laughed.

“Hey,” he protested as he flipped the switch on the kettle. “I’m always a gentleman.”

“You’re a good guy and you’re a friend,” she admitted. “But it's never been like that between us.” Even if I wanted it to be, she finished in her head.

“Well no,” he shifted uncomfortably on his feet in the doorway. “But what kind of friend makes you trudge across town in the snow just for a movie and to hang out.”

“What, did you want to cancel it?” She questioned, a twinge of pain tweaking in her chest.

“And leave you with nothing to do on valentines day?” Yunho scoffed. “No, I should have come to you.”

“How is that better?” She rolled her eyes and looked away towards the TV to start flipping through Netflix to find the movie they were going to watch.

“Then I’d be the one out there trudging through the snow getting cold,” he pouted slightly at her before heading to the freshly boiled kettle. “It’s the gentlemanly thing to do.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she shrugged, speaking loudly enough for him to hear her over the slosh of the water into the mug. “I’m just as capable of making the trip as you are.”

“Can’t you ever just let me do the nice thing for you just because?” He huffed tiredly as he strode out with the steaming mug in hand.

“I mean yeah,” she shrugged and took it from him, not meeting his eyes. “But we aren’t like that. I can come to you just as easily as you can come to me. You don’t have to coddle me or something.”

“Sometimes it's just nice to be nice, bub,” he said over his shoulder as he went back to the kitchen to finish throwing the snacks into something. With a sigh he pulled out the two large bowls they always used for snacks and grabbed the large bag of chips from the counter. Why does she always have to make it so hard for me to do nice things for her, he asked himself. Every single time he tried to do something sweet, to show her that maybe he could be something more than just a friend, she did this. She became as prickly as a hedgehog and half the time wouldn’t even look at him. It was maddening.

This is probably it, he told himself, you’re friends and that’s it, just accept it. He sighed and gathered the snacks into his hands and headed back to the living room. There she was, sitting there, feet curled cutely under her as she held the warm mug with both hands, alternating between blowing on it and taking loud sips of the still hot drink. She was so...cute, it gave him a little flutter of butterflies in his gut that he had to mentally brush away as he set the bowls and platter down on the coffee table.

“So is this still what you want to watch?” She asked, the classic romcom pulled up on the screen.

“Well, seems right, what with what day it is and all,” he shrugged.

“Valentines Day,” she nodded. “As long as you’re sure.”

“What, you don’t?” He turned to face her, trying to read her reaction. “We don’t have to.”

“No it should be fun,” she put up a hand and waved away his offer. “You just aren’t a romance sort of guy. I don’t want you to watch something you don’t want to just because...I don’t know, because you think I want to or because of TrAdItIoN.”

She gave the last word a dramatic tone to emphasize it properly in the context.

“You say tradition like it’s a bad thing.” Yunho scoffed.

“Yeah, I mean usually it's why people do things they don’t really want to do, but they feel like they are supposed to,” she leaned her head back against the cushions behind her as she looked over at the tall boy beside her.

“Sometimes,” he admitted. “But sometimes things become traditions because they are nice to do.”

“And romcoms on Valentine's Day is nice to do,” she smiled up at him with an understanding laugh.

“Yeah it is,” Yunho grinned back. “So let’s get on with tradition.” She gave him a nod and let him start the movie as she grabbed a couple of chips and settled her head lightly on his shoulder, where it often sat as they watched movies together. Yunho set the remote on the arm of the couch and lifted the arm she was leaning against, moving it to wrap around her shoulder and pull her against him and guiding her head to rest on his chest. She relaxed against him and let out a little sigh as the movie started. Yunho fixed his eyes on the TV, purposefully concentrating on the movie rather than the warm, soft curves of the woman tucked into his side.

She jerked awake, her head having lost it’s careful perch on his chest when she went slightly limp in her sleep. Cracking open her eyes, she lifted her head and started to straighten up, pushing the heel of her palm down to push herself back up. Yunho made a grunt beside her and it was in that moment that she noticed just where her hand had landed and what it was pressed against. That warm, thick lump under her palm was a very happy Yunho separated from her touch by a mere layer of jean fabric.

“Shit,” she cursed, jerking back as if it had suddenly grown as hot as a cast iron pan that had been sitting on a stove at full heat. Yunho’s hand that had not been resting on her waist as she rested against him, clenched against his thigh and he turned his eyes to the kitchen as he felt her pull away.

“Sorry… sorry… I didn’t… sorry…” she kept muttering as she scurried to stand up.

“It’s okay,” Yunho rushed to assure her. “You didn’t… you just fell asleep.”

“I think… maybe I should just go home for today,” she turned towards the door, rubbing her hot, pink cheeks. “I’m clearly really tired today. Maybe I’m getting sick or something…”

“Do you feel sick?” He stepped forward and reached out to try and test her forehead.

“I am feeling a little nauseous right now,” she admitted, dodging his touch.

Pausing, he looked at her as she knelt down and reached for her shoes. “Am I that gross?” He asked quietly, unable to keep the small pang of hurt from coloring his tone.

“What?” She froze, turning to blink up at him with owlish eyes.

“You accidentally touched me for two seconds and it makes you feel sick,” he rubbed the back of his neck and clenched his jaw in frustration. “How am I supposed to take that?”

“I didn’t-- it’s not that,” she sighed, letting herself fall into a slump and dropping the shoe she had been about to put on. “I’m embarrassed, okay?”

“You didn’t do anything you need to be embarrassed about,” he objected. “I like that you do that sometimes.”

“Do… do what?” She froze looking up at him.

“Fall asleep on me,” Yunho dug his socked toes into the carpet as he muttered his reply, barely loud enough to be heard. “I like that you feel comfortable with me; that you relax.”

“You didn’t invite me over for a nap,” she shook her head and grimaced at the memory of the part she wasn’t even willing to acknowledge out loud.

“I invited you over to spend some time with you,” he shrugged, hiding his hands in his pockets. “If you spend a little of that time napping next to me… I don’t mind. You’re still here with me.”

“That’s sweet,” she offered, reaching for her shoe again. “I just think… maybe another day would be better.”

“Please don’t go,” Yunho managed to squeeze out. “I’ve been looking forward to this all week. I’ve missed hanging out.”

“What if…” She sighed. “How about we meet for coffee or something tomorrow?” Something out of both of their places seemed safe enough, she silently settled on. They needed a reset in general. Things had been awkward lately and she was sure that if she wasn’t careful, she was one step away from doing something stupid that would really ruin everything between them.

“If you want,” he gave a little shrug, heart sinking in his chest.

“Or we can just take a little break instead,” she offered, finally managing to sink her heel into her boot. “I know things have been weird lately, so maybe that would just be for the best.”

“What did I do wrong,” he finally forced himself to ask. A big part of him didn’t want to ask; didn’t want to know. But she was slipping away already. If she went through the door today, he was almost positive it would be awhile before he saw her again.

“Nothing,” she shook her head, determinedly stuffing her other foot into her second shoe. “You didn’t do anything.” She grumbled, double knotting the lace of her shoe. “But you know that things have been a little weird as well as I do and I would rather take a few weeks apart than have things get to the point where we… aren’t friends at all.”

“Weeks?” He breathed in disbelief. “No, that’s it. Just stop.” Reaching down, he pulled her to stand facing him. “Talk to me. Tell me what I did. It must have been something. Please just give me a chance to fix it.”

“You didn’t do anything,” she shook her head, lowering her gaze.

“Please tell me,” he implored, a tightness in his chest holding his breath captive. Bringing his hands to her face, he held it facing his own, his eyes searching for some clue as to why she was slipping away. “Let me fix it.”

“You…” she started, feeling the prickle of tears filling her eyes. He looked so sad, but what was she supposed to say? She loved him so much, the very last thing she wanted to do was hurt him, but wasn’t a little pain now better than a goodbye? They were friends. Just friends. It had to be enough because she couldn’t imagine things without him. It was more important than that aching want he caused in her whenever she saw him and more important than whatever might have been.

“Let me…” He breathed, letting his gaze fall to her lips. For both of them, the moment froze, time stopped and stretched like an ocean of possibilities, a thousand chances with a thousand rewards and consequences down each path.

“Yunho,” his name fell from her lips, breaking the spell like it had been as inconsequential as the filament of a spider’s web.

“Can’t you just love me back?” He whispered, holding her cheeks, running the pads of his thumbs over her cheekbones.

“I love you so much more than you know,” she admitted, bringing her hands to cover the backs of his.

“Then don’t go,” he drew closer. “Stay with me.”

“For the movie?” She ventured, half joking, half wanting to pull away again, back to the comfortable pretending space where she didn’t really have to risk her heart or their friendship.

“Forget the movie,” he gave a watery chuckle. “Stay for me.”

“Okay,” she nodded after a second, no longer able to keep herself from leaning towards his tempting cupid's bow lips. Meeting in the middle, their lips touched and exhilaration and relief flooded both of them at the contact. He started moving backwards, wanting to take both of them away from the threat the door represented just behind her.

“Wait,” she panted, pulling back just a shade to get it out.

“What?” He asked, barely giving her space, moving his lips over to the corner of her mouth.

“Shoes,” she breathed, her fingers tightening on his wrists.

“Oh,” he nodded, dropping to his knees in front of her and immediately moving to pull them off without even bothering to untie them. He finally managed to pull them off, throwing them behind her before pulling her into his arms to take her back to the couch where all this had started, this time kissing her like a drowning man sucking in breath as he breaks the surface of water. Months of want and need flowed forth like a flood finally having broken through the last levy that had held it back.

When the front of the couch finally brushed the back of his thighs, he let himself fall backwards into the soft cushions, bringing her with him, her knees hooked around his hips. His hands moved to grip her hips, coaxing her to grind against his wanting body. She moaned against his lips, her hands moving to brush along his shoulders and neck. He filled her senses completely, from the salty sweetness of his lips, to the scent of his warm skin, to the huff and moan of his breath tickling her ears. He was heaven. He was that thing her whole being had been itching for, for months.

“Mmm,” he moaned, letting his tongue flick over her bottom lip. “Tell me that you want this, too. I need to know it's not just me.”

“It’s not just you,” she assured him, returning the motion and brushing the tip of her nose against his. “I’ve wanted this so long.”

“Why… why didn’t you say something?” He queried, letting his fingers move into the waistband of her pants. “We could have… we could have done this so long ago.”

“I thought it was just me,” she explained. “I didn’t want to ruin things between us. I’d rather have friend Yunho than nothing at all.”

“You won’t get rid of me that easily,” he laughed. “Even if I hadn’t spent the better part of the last year thinking of you every time I…” he couldn’t bring himself to finish the admission, a pink blush blooming on the tips of his ears and his cheeks. “I wouldn’t have let it come between us.”

“Why didn’t you say something then?” She turned the question around on him.

“Because everytime I tried to get a little closer to you, you bristled and ran away from me,” he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “How was I supposed to read that?”

“I’m sorry,” she leaned into him pressing a line of kisses along the side of his neck.

“Apology accepted,” he cleared his throat, leaning back to allow her better access. With one hand between her shoulder blades and the other tucked into the waistband of her jeans, he pressed her against him. “Just don’t stop.”

She let out an eager hmmm and gave the flesh just below his ear a gentle suck. Goosebumps prickled over his arms and he felt himself pulse with want. It was euphoric, his every fantasy coming true and everything was moving both too fast and too slow for his taste.

“There are too many clothes,” he grumbled, feeling her lips tease along the line of his collar. “I want to touch you.”

“I guess we could…” she paused, leaning her temple against his shoulder. “Do you want to move into your room?”

“Really?” He asked, pulling her up so he could look into her eyes.

“I mean the couch is okay too,” she was quick to nod.

“No I mean,” he pursed his lips and shifted a little under her. “We can just do this. I don’t want to rush anything.”

“I’m not promising that we’ll do everything tonight,” she began carefully. “But, if you want to, I think I’d like to see where this goes somewhere a little more comfortable.”

“Give me, like, five minutes,” he told her, sliding her off his lap and into the cushion beside him. “I just want to clean up a little.”

“Sure,” she nodded. “Maybe I can just go to the bathroom and wash my face and stuff while you pick up.”

“Yeah, sure,” he agreed happily, taking her by the hand as he stood up. Dropping her off in front of the bathroom door he walked over to the linen closet and pulled out a new set of sheets, then headed for his bedroom. If this was going to happen, he told himself, it was going to happen in clean sheets. Quickly stripping the bed, he threw the new sheets on the bed and picked up the few socks and little bits of whatever that happened to have been left on the floor over the past couple of days. Throwing away the trash, he gathered the old sheets and the laundry, taking it out to the washer, deciding he could start it later, but certainly had better things to do at the moment.

Since the bathroom door was still closed, he decided he had enough time to do just a few little things to set the mood. Candles, where did I leave those things, he wondered in his head as he poked his head into the living room and then into the hall closet. Ah-ha, he thought victoriously as he laid eyes on the little box of candles and glass holders. Grabbing them, he made his way back to his bedroom and put the little votives on every surface far enough away from something flammable he had.

Just as he lit the last candle, he heard the click of the bathroom door opening. He tossed the lighter into the nearest drawer and nervously tried to brush the wrinkles out of the front of his shirt. The gesture was more soothing than it was effective, but was cute to see nonetheless when she poked her head around the frame of the door to see him.

“Hi,” she said nervously. “Are you done?”

“Yeah,” Yunho nodded, straightening up. “Do you… do you still want to move in here?”

“Yeah,” she replied with a smile. “It looks nice.”

“Thanks,” he replied automatically more than anything else. “So… ummm…”

“Let’s start by getting a little more comfortable,” she suggested, taking a few steps into the room.

“Right, yes,” he nodded vigorously, coming to meet her. When they were standing just a few inches apart, she reached out, putting her hands on his forearms comfortingly.

“Do you mind if I help you out of these?” She asked as her fingers moved to the button on his jeans.

“Please,” Yunho had been feeling the pressure of the tight fabric against his erection for what felt like forever and would be glad to be free of it. His hands moved to help guide the jeans off his hips as she undid the button and slid the zipper down. He leaned down to kiss her as he stepped out of the stiff fabric as it slumped around his ankles. Her hands went to the fastenings of her own jeans, kicking them off as he nuzzled and licked at her lips.

“What about this next?” She suggested, tugging at his shirt gently. Without answering he pulled back and pulled it off over his head as quickly as he could manage, leaving him in his socks and boxers.

“What about yours?” He asked, a hopeful look in his eyes as his hand brushed over her sleeve.

“Yeah,” she brought her hands over her head, allowing him to pull it off and toss it on top of her jeans off to the side.

“Bed?” He asked, wrapping his arms around her hips and lifting her against his chest. She nodded and brought her lips to his as he took the couple of steps to the mattress. Letting her down gently, he let her crawl backwards to the head of the bed and stretch out with her head on the pillows before crawling after her. As he drew near, looming over her with his much larger body, she opened her thighs to allow him to lay in the cradle they created.

“Hey,” she chuckled, bringing her arms to wrap around his neck as he laid himself over her.

“Hi,” he replied with a shy laugh. “We still good?”

“Uh-huh,” she nodded, brushing his bangs off his forehead. “Can I ask you something?”

“Hmmm?” His puppyish eyes looked into hers intently.

“Did you change the sheets?” she giggled, looking up into his overly serious expression.

“Yes,” he admitted.

“Mmm, I thought so,” she nodded. “They don’t smell like you.”

“Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?” He questioned, holding himself up on his forearms to keep most of his weight off her.

“Both… neither?” She said indecisively. “Just come a little closer to me.” He leaned closer, bringing his lips to her as he allowed more of his weight to press into her. Letting out a contented sigh, she deepened the kiss as she let her hands wander over the broad expanse of his bare back.

Yunho let himself get lost in the soft sensations of her lips and her hands as he pressed himself close. She felt as good and as comforting as he had dreamed she would on all those lonely nights. His tongue slipped in past her lips and past her teeth to tangle with her own, dancing together in a mutual sweep of pleasurable sensation.

Time passed unobserved as they lazily explored each other, mouth to mouth, hands gently flitting over the skin they could find. When he finally pulled back, he rolled slightly off her, laying his head on the pillow beside hers. He nuzzled into her cheek, his eyes closing as he just took in her scent mixed with the freshness of the clean sheets.

“Do you want to stop for tonight?” She asked, running her hand over his arm where it curved around her waist.

“We can if you’d like,” he offered. “I just wanted to hold you for a while.”

“I actually,” she started to speak and he could actually feel the heat of her blush rise against his lips as he kissed her cheek. “I’m feeling a little needy. We don’t have to go all the way but I kind of want a little something more.”

“Okay,” he nodded, pulling himself up onto one elbow. “What do you need?”

“I kind of… I just need a little friction,” she explained, her face aflame as she did. “Maybe you can just lay back and I’ll take care of it… with you, if that’s okay?”

“Yeah, show me what you like,” he nodded, eagerly shifting to lay on his back. Sitting up, she moved to straddle his hips, putting a knee to either side. Leaning forward, she propped herself up with a hand just above each of his shoulders. Unable to bring herself to look into his eyes at the moment, she closed her eyes and let her head droop slightly forward as she shifted her hips, looking for the right angle to get the friction she sought. Drawing in a deep breath through her nose, she tentatively slid herself along the ridge of his erection.

Yunho watched her face as she started to move, tantalized by the blissfully seeking expression on her face combined with the sensation of her grinding against him. He watched as her movements became more fluid and more sure, listening as her breathing became faster then hitched now and again as she hit something more pleasurable on her body. She was beautiful and tempting as she used his body to find some relief to the tension that knitted her brow.

“Does it feel good?” He asked, his hands helping her hips to press more harshly against him.

“Yeah,” she panted. “So good.”

“Is it better with me?” He questioned, wanting to know he was playing some part in that look on her face.

“So much better,” she agreed. “You make me feel so good.”

“Are you going to come all over me?” He prompted, bringing one hand up to her stomach to feel the muscles clench and quiver.

“Oh god, yes I think so,” she nodded, speeding up her grinding.

“Can you look in my eyes when you do, love,” he pressed, hearing that uneven puff that said she was getting close. Her movements faltered slightly, but she swallowed and managed to finally meet his gaze. Her eyes were hooded and hazy, and her pupils wide from a mix of the dim light of the candles and the pleasure coursing in her veins.

“So pretty,” he praised huskily. “Come for me, yeah?”

“Uh- uh-huh,” she nodded, her arms quivering and threatening to give out. With just a few more moves, she came apart over him. Her jaw went slack and her eyes squeezed shut as her body went rigid for a few seconds before a shiver worked its way through her body starting at her shoulders and reverberating down to her toes.

Weakness suffused her and her arms finally gave out. Collapsed against his chest, she huddled against him as she caught her breath. He murmured sweet nothings to her, soothing her with his voice as his hands stroked against her slightly tacky back. Want made his skin hurt but he savored this moment knowing it was a sort of first he would never have again. It was a fulfilment of a fantasy that had haunted him for months and part of him was afraid to poke at it, afraid it would burst like a bubble.

“Thank you,” she sighed, taking a deep breath that turned into a yawn.

“Are you up for a little more?” He tested, rubbing his chin gently against the top of her head. “I can take a few minutes to myself if you aren’t.”

“I can take a little more,” she nodded against his chest. “But I’m not feeling terribly coordinated at the moment.”

“It’s okay,” he chuffed, rolling them both over so that he was once again on top of her. “I think I can do the work this time.” Depositing her gently on the bed, he pulled back to look down at her nestled comfortably in his bed. She looked just right there, like she belonged there beside him. “Do you mind if I take the rest of the clothes off?”

“That’s fine,” she nodded. With a sigh, she propped herself up and reached behind her back to unhook her bra so he could remove it as he slid his boxers off and tossed them somewhere off the bed. Doing the same with her bra, he sat up on his heels and hooked his fingers in the band of her panties, pulling them gently down her legs and off. He knelt between her legs and looked down at her as she relaxed into the pile of pillows again. Her eyes skimmed over his face and down his body in that moment, taking in his strong, lean body.

“Oh my,” she breathed when her eyes finally lowered to his erection.

“What?” He asked as he moved to cover himself, slightly self conscious at the reaction.

“You’re just… big,” she replied after a second’s pause.

“I guess,” he admitted, blushing. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, reaching out in her desire to reassure him.

“Just one second,” he held up a finger then leaned over to open the drawer in his bedside table. After a little digging, he pulled out a small foil wrapper and tore it open.

“I’m on birth control,” she mentioned. “But better safe than sorry, right.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, rolling the latex down his length before reaching back into the drawer, this time pulling out a tube of clear lube. Taking a little on his fingers, he spread it between her already slick nether lips, just to be sure, before getting a little that he used on his latex covered length. Wiping his hand clean on a tissue, he finally lay down between her thighs, lining himself up with her core.

“You still want me?” He asked, running his hand up her side as he smiled down at her.

“Yes,” she nodded, wrapping her arms around his ribs as she relaxed beneath him.

“You’ve…” He paused, hips poised to thrust when it occurred to him to ask.

“Yeah, I’ve done this before,” she assured him, hugging his hips with her thighs, coaxing him to enter her.

“If it’s not good,” he said, slowly working himself into her body. “Just say something, promise?”

“I will,” she agreed. With each gentle thrust he went a little deeper, sinking himself into her moist heat inch by inch. Her body stretched satisfyingly around him, hugging his length with a sweet tension.

“Mmm, oh god,” he breathed as he reached the end of her body. “You’re okay?”

“Yeah, keep going,” she urged, her fingers gripping his shoulders as she moved impatiently. “You feel so good.”

He nodded and buried his head in the pillows near her head, letting his eyes close as he enjoyed the sensation of sliding in and out of her tight body. His body arched and curved against her as he found a slow and steady rhythm that had pleasure thrumming through him. It was even better than every late night fantasy that had flitted through his mind as he had imagined being with her. The only thing that would scratch that tickle of sexual frustration that had haunted him for months.

“Yunho,” she breathed his name against his collarbone, her lips ghosting over his skin as she spoke his name. He whispered hers back over and over, like a quiet mantra in the quiet of the room, otherwise filled with the creak of the bed and the rustle of the sheets amid the rhythmic pants of their breathing.

“Tell me I make you feel good,” he groaned, leaning close to feel her nipples abrade his chest as he moved against her.

“You feel like heaven,” she swore breathlessly.

“Mmmm,” he shuttered and his hips stuttered against her. “I’m not gonna last long. Can you come again? I want to feel you come around me.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, moving one hand to touch herself between them.

“Okay,” he closed his eyes and tried to think about something else, even as he felt himself getting close to that precipice. He couldn’t help but get drawn in by the feel of her hand moving against herself between them and he prayed she was as close as he was.

“Can you tell me I’m beautiful?” She asked shyly, her breath coming faster again.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against her temple. “So fucking beautiful I can barely breath when I look at you.” She let out a muffled little groan and he felt the first flutter of her body around him. He let out a long string of praise for her as he thrust into her, her hand trembling as she chased that pleasure again. He moaned out praise for every inch of her and every feature, exhaustively listing every freckle, dimple, and curve he loved about her until he felt her body burst with pleasure, pulsingly gripping his length and driving him over the edge and robbed him of speech as he spilled himself inside her.

In the moments that followed they both slowly fell back to earth, coming back to themselves, limbs entwined in the dim, quiet room. With a quick apology he rolled his weight off her, pulling her along with him so that she was curled against his side as they caught their breath.

Slipping the condom off, he cleaned himself up with a tissue and tossed both into the nearby trash before turning to give the woman beside him an assessing look.

“Do you want to go clean up a little before we go to sleep?” He asked, running a finger gently over her arm.

“In another minute,” she gave a single, tired nod.

“Okay,” he agreed, rubbing her skin to warm in as the sweat they had developed cooled it. After a few beats he broke the silence with another question, “Ummm, does this count as our day one?”

“Yeah,” she laughed. “Valentine’s Day, huh? I guess that will make it easy to remember, won’t it?”

“I’m not sure I’d say that was the memorable part,” he teased back. “Thank you for being mine.”

“Thank you for loving me back,” she said, craning up to press a kiss to his lips. “Happy day one.”

“I can’t wait to spend the rest of my days with you,” he grinned, wrapping her tightly in his arms and breathing her in as he held her close.

Masterlist

#jeong yunho #Yunho #yunho scenarios #yunho smut #ateez smut #ateez #ateez fluff #kpop smut #kpop scenarios #kpop angst #kpop fluff #ateez angst #friends to lovers #one shot

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ghost-oftheriver · 4 years ago

Text

Parent Guidance Recommended

word count: 3,281

focus characters: Pacifica Northwest, Fiddleford H. McGucket

warnings: child neglect, implications of alcoholism, implications of infidelity, mugging, knives, threatening, generally awful people

summary: On the worst birthday she’s ever had, Pacifica finds herself seeking support from a source she’d least expect; the new owner of the once-Northwest Manor, her own former home.

Pacifica was turning fourteen on the Fourth of July. A perfect birthday. Perfect girl. Perfect family.

Her parents would throw a party. Like any Northwest party, with gorgeous, itchy lace ball gowns and impeccable etiquette, each word in every conversation spoken with flawless flow, with purposeful posture and respect-demanding mannerisms. A perfect party for perfect people, with perfect food prepared.

After claiming her designated ruby-studded chair at the dinner table, she would be shocked when her plate was revealed to her. Deep-fried Roareos. Stacked in a small sweet-powdered delicious heap in front of her, chocolately, cream-filled cookies, dipped in batter and deep-fried to perfection. Sugary. Messy. Pacifica had never had it before. How did her parents know she wanted to try it?

She turned her head to cast a quizzical look to her parents, who’d been watching her, holding each other with loving smiles directed at her. A warm feeling spread inside her like warm butter. She reached for a fork.. but hesitated, and hovered her hand over the plate instead. She casted another glance at her parents to see their reaction. No cold response was elicited so far. In fact, she could have sworn her father nodded in approval.

She delicately picked one of the cookies up with her thumb and forefinger, and raised it to her lips to nibble at it. Her senses were flooded with warm, sweet goodness. Just as amazing as she imagined. She stuffed the rest in her mouth, going so far as to lick her fingers. Her lips were coated with melted cream. She neglected the napkins beside her plate to instead lick the sugar mixture from her lips. Barbaric. But her parents didn’t seem to mind either of the actions. She thought she even heard an amused giggle from her mother.

“Sweetie, would you like your presents now or after you’re finished?” Priscilla— no, this was Mom— asked. Pacifica paused. She had a say? Were they not on a schedule? She supposed if she was given the option, she would love to open gifts while she snacked on the rest of the Roareos.

“Now, please,” the young blond girl responded. On cue, one of the butlers was beside her, placing a neatly-packaged gift box on her lap. A beautiful purple silk ribbon sat on top, holding it together. She couldn’t recall the last time she felt so eager to reveal its contents.

What was inside? Some comfy clothes? Paint, perhaps? A cute animal plush that would contrast the creepy porcelain dolls in her room? The possibilities were endless.

Delightfully, she tugged at it. The box opened. As she peered inside, her excitement dissolved. The warm feeling turned to ice.

The bell. The one her father carried on his person at all times. The one that willed his command in the mansion. The one Pacifica hated. Suddenly Preston was standing over her, slowly picking the bronze item up.

Loving smile gone, replaced with a disapproving, even disgusted scowl. She shrank in her seat.

“Pacifica Elise Northwest,” he boomed. “So it’s true. You’re mingling with the common, ignoble crowds these days.”

“No!” she found herself crying out. “It’s not like that! I have to!”

“Have to what? Work a lowly job as a waitress in that slobbish cesspit? At that- that disgusting, sorry excuse for a dining destination? THAT’S NOT ACCEPTABLE EVER. How can you call yourself a Northwest? How can you call yourself our daughter?”

The very first thought she woke up to was that it was too good to be real.

Tangled in her sheets, warm tears trickling down her cheeks. She sniffled and quickly wiped them away before slipping out of bed.

The house was dark. Silent. The clock on the wall read 7:52. Her parents’ bedroom was empty as she passed. It smelled of wine. They would not be back for a while. Pacifica found herself releasing a sigh, her tension easing a little, even if that meant she’d be spending her birthday alone for the very first time. She leaned against the doorframe and closed her eyes, trying to recall the good part of the dream, trying to revive the taste of the sugary treat, but it was gone. Soured by the unreality of it. All it was doing was making her hungry belly ache.

When checking the refrigerator, cabinets and pantry and coming to the realization that all that was left was a loaf of bread, a half-empty tube of Bringles and a couple dinner kits. No breakfast food. Not even a single egg. Not even leftovers. Something like despair and disappointment blossomed inside her. She would have to eat at the diner again…

She snagged her wallet from the counter only to find her twenty had disappeared, leaving only a couple measly ones and fives and whatever coins were loose inside. She felt the tears building a little again and slapped the wallet shut to try to stifle them. There was a time she had nearly everything, but now after Weirdmaggedon, she couldn’t even trust that her own hard-earned cash wouldn’t be snagged if left around her own greedy birthgivers. Her strength was being sapped by the will not to burst into a sobbing fit. There was enough in there to cover breakfast at work when she got to Greasy’s, at least.

With her belly still growling, she changed out of her nightwear, threw on her apron and a pair of aviators and began the walk to work.

The day was a bright one, sunny and a little breezy. A pleasant temperature. It did not reflect how Pacifica felt. Despite the summer weather, she pulled her scarf over her head, casting shade over her face. The neighborhood streets were mostly void of people, every house gated off. Just because they lost the mansion did not mean the Northwests were living in squalor, but her spending money was strictly monitored. Her parents now enforced that any money she spent, she’d have to earn. A fourteen year old. A child. Just so her birthgivers could ensure a few extra dollars in their account.

Pacifica couldn’t help but feel the fanciness of the neighborhood was almost deceitful. Her own household was a prime example. Her own rumbling tummy was a prime example. She wondered if there were others who lived in these houses that had similar problems as hers. Unlikely here.. however there were definitely others, people who’d been pushed to extremes just to get by.

Whether that was the reason behind why Pacifica soon found herself being followed halfway through the trip, she didn’t know. The feeling of being watched intensified by the minute, and glances into the reflections of shop windows told her there was a person. They refused to let up for at least a couple of blocks, the likelihood that they were just going the same direction by chance was steadily decreasing. They probably saw her leaving the wealthier neighborhood. The young girl picked up her pace. It did her no good.

The next moments were a blur. Her arm was snatched. When she struggled, a slice put a stop to it. Her arm began to bleed. Something sharp pressed to her throat, stiffening every muscle in her body. Vulgar language was hurled at her, demanding cooperation before her purse was yanked from her shoulder, and she was thrown to the curb. She was left winded, bruised, panicked and hyperventilating. She struggled for her breath back.

Mugged. She’d been mugged for the few measly dollars she had on her. And the fact that her first thought after all that was concern for what her parents would think that she let those precious dollars be nicked in the first place.. it only increased her distraught. Her breaths hastened more and more, and she didn’t realize her tears had finally started to flow until she was already sprinting down the street, her vision muddled. Every step felt like thunder to her ears. Home. She just wanted to go home. Maybe she couldn’t be herself as much, and maybe she was always busy, under constant supervision. But at least there was stability. At least there was certainty of the future. At least it was comfortable, at least there was always food on the table, breakfast, lunch and dinner. At least her father never stumbled around reeking of alcohol while only Lord knew where her mother was. Maybe her parents weren’t the best to other people but at least she could be certain they were true to each other. At least she could pretend everything was fine.

Pacifica wasn’t sure how far she’d gone. She was sweaty, she felt gross and sticky. Her legs were sore, threatening to give out if she went any further. She was still bleeding. She ached everywhere. But she’d reached her destination. She stood at the bottom of a familiar, long driveway, and at the top, sitting on a large hill, towering over the town stood the proud family mansion. Waves of nostalgia and sorrow crashed over her. Everything felt so gross. Every memory tainted by the knowledge of her parents’ true nature. She couldn’t even speak to anyone, not even her parents. Who would listen to a rich brat whine about how she used to be richer? Certainly not any of the townsfolk.

She found herself staring at the manor for a while, not entirely sure what to do.

“...What am I doing here…?” Pacifica whispered, sniffling and reaching for the tissues she kept in her purse, only to be hit with the whirlwind of events that had just happened again. Her arm stung. She could barely hold herself upright. She felt so… so tired. She meekly wiped her nose on her sleeve, and started to turn around when suddenly she bumped into someone.

“Wo-ah there, kiddo, careful, better watch where ya—” a cheerful voice piped, before cutting itself off when the sight of Pacifica in her disheveled state registered. “Huh? Hey.. Ah’ know you.”

Color drained from Pacifica’s cheeks. This guy again.. Why was he here? She quickly wiped the tears from her cheeks as she tried a witty remark, but — “Y-y-ea-h, well-, wh-o w-ou-uldn’-t-” — ultimately failing when her quivering body wouldn’t stop heaving sobs. Again she sniffled. Disgusting. In front of the hillbilly too.

McGucket’s face morphed into something like sympathy. He kneeled down to her height. “Ah- hey, what’s goin’ on kiddo? Are ya alright?”

Pacifica parted her lips. She wanted to say yes. Her instincts screamed at her to say yes. She could practically hear her birthgivers demanding her to say yes. She had to be perfect. She had to be flawless. She had to be stoic, proud, happy, for her family.

But that’s not what came out.

“n-NO!” she cried, her knees finally buckling as if the years of abuse weighing down on her shoulders finally came crashing down on top of her. Her face buried in her hands, sobbing violently into them. She wasn’t okay, she wasn’t okay, she wasn’t okay. Wails and cries escaped. She couldn’t stop the tears anymore. She was in so much pain, she was so alone. The sobs wouldn’t stop. The raging storm of emotion only continued to demolish her walls, clawing at her pride and self esteem. Everything she pretended to be crashed and burned at that moment.

Fiddleford had been a little stunned by the sudden breakdown, but he started to piece the situation together from the bits and pieces the poor girl was babbling. He didn’t get up and walk away like Pacifica was expecting him to. He stayed put, even placed his hand on her shoulder to try to console her. When she didn’t flinch away from him, the old man started rubbing circles on her back as she cried and cried. Fiddleford never was the best at comfort.. though he could only imagine how long this outburst had been bottled up, and he thought it best that Pacifica let it all out before trying to say anything.

It was a while before Pacifica’s sobs began to calm enough to allow her to speak in more coherent sentences. The story became clearer. She spoke about how her parents had mistreated her, like she was an accessory rather than a human being, a literal child. How things had been getting worse this past year since they were forced to move due to her father’s irresponsible stock market decisions during Weirdmaggedon, to preserve what fortune they had left. How she felt more at home at the diner than she ever did at her own residence. How she hardly saw her parents anymore. How everything had changed for the worst. The way her parents had become about money, even how they scolded her for ‘nagging’ about her birthday the previous day, when it had been the first time she brought it up in half a year. It all hurt terribly to speak of but Pacifica couldn’t help but notice the sudden weightless feeling after getting everything out. She was surprised to find Old Man McGucket was still listening.

“Y’know,” he spoke finally, “Ah knew a fella once who thought ‘e had everythin’ before ‘e lost it all too. ‘Should’a been there for ‘im like he needed.”

Pacifica was quiet for a moment. “..W..ho was he?”

Fiddleford only waved his hand. “Ol’ college buddy. Doin’ mighty fine these days. Now whaddya say we get off’a the street an’ patch up that lil’ ol’ scratch a’ yours inside?”

It tooka moment to register the question through his southern accent, but when she did, her eyebrows knit together in confusion. “..I- inside..?”

Inside the mansion. Pacifica almost couldn’t believe it. Old Man McGucket was the one that bought the Northwest Manor. She wondered how on earth a former homeless man was possibly able to afford such a grand purchase, until peeks into a couple rooms along the hallway that had been filled with computers and strange machinery told her she didn’t know nearly as much about McGucket as she previously thought.

It was so strange walking through the hallways again. Everything was the same, but different. Was the grand rustic architecture and furniture always so beautiful? And… were those.. raccoons she was spotting out of the corner of her eyes?

McGucket led her to a room with a couch- a familiar silver-themed room with a certain carpet pattern. It looked nearly the same, except for the banjo leaning against the couch’s armrest, and maybe a few more stains than its previous flawless condition “for guests- that is, for guests to look at”. Despite her emotional state, she found herself smiling at the memory of her adventures with Dipper Pines, trying to bust that ghost… until she recalled the punishment her parents had made for her after that was all over. She began to feel a little sick. Her gaze dropped to the floor as McGucket trudged into the room, plopped onto the couch and patted the cushions beside him. Hesitantly, she followed him and did as gestured. It was.. weird to be back. She wiped her eyes again.

“How’d that’a happen?”

“..What?” the question hit her like a slap.

“The cut.” He gestured to the bleeding injury with a bandaged hand.

“...Oh.” Again, her gaze dropped. Her eyes began to mist again before she shut them. “..I-I.. I was.. um.. mugged on the way here… They stole my favorite purse…” Shame burned at her belly. She didn’t see any sign of judgement in McGucket’s reaction, though. He didn’t ask why she let that happen, or why she wasn’t responsible enough to bring someone with her. There was only concern for her.

“Oh.. ‘Ahm sorry that’a happened. Gravity Falls’s usually safe.. er- ah..” The old man scratched the back of his head. “‘least, it’s not the people ya gotta usually worry ‘bout.”

“Heh.. yeah..” Shrugging, the old man pulled out a full-blown first aid kid, temporarily baffling Pacifica for a moment. “Wai- were you just carrying that—?”

The question went without a response as McGucket went straight to disinfecting the cut. “‘Doesn’t look terri-bubly deep,” he piped. “Should’a stopped bleeding by now but we’ll patch it up ta’ keep it safe while it’s a-healin’.”

“Wait.. how do you know how to do this..?” Pacifica asked, furrowing her eyebrows a little. The old man gave her a cheery grin.

“Well, ‘gotta pick up somethin’ ‘bout it after livin’ in the dump buildin’ evil whatsits and thingamajigs outta rusty metal for a couple’a decades.”

..Oh. Well, that would make sense, she supposed.. Briefly, the question as to why he was being so nice to her after the way she and her family treated him crossed her mind. She wondered if that friend he mentioned had something to do with it… Suddenly she found herself wishing she’d paid closer attention to the details of the relationships between the other people involved in the zodiac. She guessed it could be that hotter Mr. Pines (or.. Dr. Pines?), she recalled seeing some kind of emotional exchange between him and McGucket during Weirdmaggedon.

Occupied with her thoughts, she hardly realized McGucket had completely finished with the bandage until he announced it.

“Done!” he cheered, stuffing the first aid kit back into the oblivion from which it came. Weird. More Gravity Falls weirdness. “...Thanks.”

“Anytime, sweetie. Y’always got’a listenin’ ear right here if ya’ need it.”

Pacifica gave him a small, grateful smile. The old man would never know what that meant to her.

“I.. I don’t know..” she sighed softly. “Today was just… awful… It’s the first birthday I’ll be spending alone, and I guess it’s… getting to me…”

“Yer birthday’s today?? Ah, Ah’m sorry, sugerbun,” McGucket spoke. “Awful break, goin’ through somethin’ like a’this on’a birthday mornin’. Say, ya always got a place right ‘ere if ya need. Plenty a’ empty bedrooms.”

Pacifica raised her head. “...R...Really..?”

McGucket beamed. “Why sure! Ya remind me a’ my lil’ Tator Tot, Ah’ miss ‘em somethin’ terrible. It gets a lil’ lonely in this ‘ere big ol’ mansion sometimes and ah wouldn’t mind a visit from some young folk from a’time ta’ time.”

She could… she could visit. Whenever she wanted? Her old home, without her parents around. McGucket was that okay with her? Even going so far as to compare her to (presumably) his own kid? That was… incredible. Before thinking it through, she threw her arms around the old man, chorusing her ‘thank you’s with a bubble of laughter. Though startled, Fiddleford slowly returned the hug with a warm smile.

He stank quite a bit. Pacifica recoiled a little at the realization of what she was doing. Ew. What would people think of her if they caught her doing something so unthinkable? Willingly embracing this stinky old man who…. gave incredible hugs.. Her concern suddenly dissolved. In its stead, a certain safety appeared, and she melted into it a little more. It was the same feeling she craved in her dreams. Dirt didn’t matter at all anymore. The feeling of a parental embrace shielding her from the unpleasantness of the world was all she could bring herself to care about at that moment. It felt so warm… Before she knew it, she was tearing up again.

“...Thank you, McGucket..”

“Heheh, anytime, sugarbun. Say, since it is yer birthday, whaddya say we hit th’ town an’ find somethin’ ta’ cheer ya up?”

Pacifica wiped her eyes with her palm. What an offer... To think a year ago she would never had even considered walking around with the old kook as a possible option, but.. She found herself looking forward to it. “I… I would love that.”

[Part 1 of ??? possibly 2??]

#this totally isn’t a vent piece for the nightmares i keep waking up from skdhkdbd #i’ll prolly write the second part. soon #my writing #gravity falls #gravity falls fanfiction #gravity falls fic #pacifica northwest #gravity falls pacifica #fiddleford mcgucket #gravity falls mcgucket #found family #angst with a happy ending #comfort

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stolensiren · 2 years ago

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heavy gets light // ari & cass

TIMING: sometime before 12 feet deep PARTIES: @letsbenditlikebennett & @stolensiren SUMMARY: ari invites cass over to enjoy the last of the season's swimming weather, and the two discuss life and relationships. CONTENT: none

If there was one habit Ari had picked up in White Crest it was worrying about what could go wrong, because if it could go wrong, it typically would. While she didn’t know what fae stuff potentially had Cass in danger, she knew she had to protect her friend. The idea of losing yet another friend weighed heavily on her, so she would have Cass around as much as humanly possible. Or as werewolfly and sirenly possible. Hopefully convincing wouldn’t be that hard. Ari was in fact miserable and Cass was a good friend who would wanna cheer her up, not that it was really a possibility until she reversed the wish in question. “So I was thinking we could swim a bit before it starts getting too cold out and I have to cover the pool. Then we can hit the books or whatever.”

It was always easier for Cass to let a friend cheer her up when it seemed like they might need the companionship as much as she did. Despite knowing that her friends wanted to help her, part of her always felt selfish letting them. So when Ari mentioned that she could use a friend, there was no hesitation in Cass’s agreement. This would be good, she thought, for the both of them. This could be what they both needed. She offered Ari a small smile at the suggestion, nodding her head. “We gotta make sure the pool’s getting used as much as possible, right?” She agreed with a quick thumbs up. “It’ll be fun.”

“Exactly,” Ari agreed half-heartedly, “Get in the last hoorah of Hot Girl Summer and all that shit.” Not that she found herself actively participating in the hot girl summer activities the further summer went on. None of it meant anything and only served to remind her just how much she missed coming home to Athena. “We could always film a TikTok,” she added, “Been getting even more traction with those since some author dude has been appearing in a few of them. Didn’t even realize they were an author at first honestly, I was just down to fuck around with the Sauce.”

Even filming a TikTok didn’t sound all that fun to Ari. She needed Levi to get its act together and fast. There was only so long she could keep up like nothing was wrong, especially with Cass and she’d told it she wouldn’t tell Cass about everything. Not that she owed Levi literally anything, but if she was going to help it learn to be a better person, she couldn’t just betray its trust. Which meant keeping Cass here without spilling what she did to Levi and why and not spilling the favor Sloane had asked of her. “Maybe we could…,” she trailed off, “Would you mind doing a sleepover?”

“I am a pretty big fan of your content,” Cass replied with a grin that was only mostly fake. “I’d be honored to be in one. But, like, I’m not eating that mud stuff. I watched that one, and it was gross.” If nothing else, filming TikToks with Ari and participating in the ‘hot girl summer’ that Cass had mostly wasted making a fool of herself over and over again would provide a welcome distraction to… thinking about how she’d made a fool of herself over and over again. She’d still be miserable, probably, but at least she’d be miserable with a friend. There was something to be said for that.

And there could be something to be said for that for Ari, too. Cass didn’t know what was bothering her friend, but it was clear that something was. Ari was sad, and Cass wanted to help. So at the mention of a sleepover, she nodded quickly. “Um, yes. For sure. Maybe I can braid your hair? And we can watch dumb movies! And talk about…” She trailed off with a grimace. Talk about boys was the stereotype, but that wasn’t what Cass wanted to talk about. Not that she was sure she wanted to talk about the girl who was on her mind, either. “We can talk about whatever you want,” she amended, as if that had been her intention from the start despite the clear fact that it definitely wasn’t.

“You mean the Sauce,” Ari retorted with a small shudder, “It actually doesn’t taste bad… kinda just tastes like stale pastries. Same as the mimes. You lose your voice though so I don’t recommend it.” If she were being honest, she didn’t really feel like she had it in her to make an actually ridiculous TikTok and that was kind of her brand. “Maybe we can try a trend or something later. Check back in on that thought after a few White Claws.” Now that she at least knew Cass was staying the night, she could relax a bit. Didn’t have to worry about all the bad things that could happen to her friend the moment she left the farm.

“All of that sounds perfect,” Ari responded with a laugh that sounded forced, “I think stereotypically it’s boys, can’t say I’ve had any of those on my mind.” Though maybe it would be nice to actually talk about missing Athena with someone she didn’t feel the need to skirt around things with. Even asking Rio how Athena was doing had left her feeling bad for putting her best friend in that position. “I’d love the hair braiding, my sister used to braid mine for me,” she explained with a sad smile, “I’ve got so many dumb movies and snacks. We can talk about whatever we want. They should make talking about girls equally as much of a thing though.” She led them out toward the pool with towels and cooler in hand. “I guess I’ve kinda had a girl on my mind lately though.”

“I am not calling it the Sauce,” Cass insisted with a laugh that was genuine, in spite of everything. Ari was good at that, at bringing out joy even when it was the last thing on Cass’s mind. “Same as the mimes? I’m not eating mimes, either. You can keep your stale pastries. But I will take you up on those White Claws.” If nothing else, it would provide her with some sense of warmth in her chest… even if it was kind of the manufactured kind.

Of course Ari knew the usual thing to talk about at sleepovers. “Is there a boy you want to talk about?” Cass was genuinely curious. Her love life was, of course, a big mess, but maybe Ari’s was better. Ari certainly deserved that much, at least. “I’m pretty good at braiding hair, but I really only ever get to practice on myself. It’ll be fun to do it to someone else for a change.” She smiled at the mention that talking about girls should go hand in hand with talking about boys. “Who’s the girl? You gotta spill.”

“I’d say to put respect on its name but… The mimes don’t deserve that,” Ari joked, feeling a bit lighter, but still the joke felt hollow. It was better than nothing at least and more importantly, if Cass was here with her, she was safe. No one was causing any harm on this farm with Ulf just inside. That sense of safety was something she’d missed a lot when Ulf was gone. “White Claws it is,” she said as she grabbed one out of the cooler, “Grapefruit or Black Cherry?”

“Boy? Not really,” Ari grimaced, “I mean, I’m attracted to guys too and would risk it all for Harry Styles, but nah.” The prospect of having pretty braids would have normally had her giddy so she cracked a grin. The love and warmth was still there, knowing her friend cared about her and wanted her to have a good time. “Perfect, we’ll be looking extra cute then for our TikTok debut,” she said, pausing before she explained the girl that had been on her mind constantly again as of late, “My ex-girlfriend, actually. Athena, Rio’s sister. She… doesn’t live here anymore, but she has asked Rio about me… and I maybe ordered her every special edition of Taylor Swift’s new album for her birthday. I don’t know, I kinda really fucked things up there and it’s kinda just stuck with me?”

“The mimes definitely don’t deserve that,” Cass agreed with a snort. They were both putting on an act here, that much was pretty clear. But… at least they had each other. It was always better to be sad with a friend than it was to be sad alone, in Cass’s experience. “I’ll do grapefruit.” Cass made grabby hands at the can, eager to give her hands something to do… and potentially take her mind off everything that was bothering her.

Huffing a laugh, Cass nodded. “Same. Maybe not specifically Harry Styles, though.” She felt a little more normal than she had in a long time, relief a tangible thing as she settled into gossip with a friend. Motioning for Ari to come sit in front of her, Cass opted to get started on the promised braids as her friend spoke, nodding along with the words. “If she asked about you, that’s a good sign, isn’t it? Where is she now? Maybe you could visit her sometime. If there’s one thing I learned from romcoms, it’s that dramatically showing up at someone’s doorstep in the pouring rain is, like, a foolproof way to get them back. I could hold the boombox for you! You know, if we can find a boombox in 2022.”

Ari handed a grapefruit White Claw over to Cass and took a seat beside her in the pool, leaning against the edge of it. The water was a bit brisk, but it was a nice contrast to the sun that was shining a bit too brightly considering the time of day. She stopped trying to keep up with what the hell was even going on every hour in White Crest anymore. It seemed as if everything was falling apart, which only furthered any feelings of worry she had. “You’re valid, that means more Styles for me,” she teased half-heartedly.

More than anything, Ari did want to believe Athena having asked about her was a good sign. It was hard to feel like she deserved forgiveness for leaving the way she did, but maybe more than anyone, Athena could understand the need to get out of White Crest. The place despite having plenty of open spaces could really feel like it was just caving in on you… especially literally lately. “I think so, but could be wishful thinking and all,” she responded wistfully, “She’s in Connecticut now. Going to med school at Yale like the beautiful genius she is.” And she was glad that Athena got to make that choice for herself, something she’d never been allowed to do when her parents were alive. Rio and Athena both deserved the freedom to grow into the people they wanted to be, more than anyone. “Hm, the boom box does sound fun. We both love Taylor Swift, think I know the perfect song and everything.”

Ari sighed, “I just don’t know if it’d really make a difference. We’d still be states apart at the end of it… though it does kinda feel like this town is literally falling the fuck apart.”

Absently, Cass ran her fingers through Ari’s damp hair, separating it into sections and beginning to braid without really thinking about it. She paused occasionally to sip at the White Claw, enjoying the taste with a quiet hum. “I’ll play your wingman for the Style chase,” she teased. “I can definitely get him to talk to you.”

She listened as Ari talked about the real holder of her heart — not some pretty boy with a nice voice, but a girl she’d loved and lost before Cass knew her at all. It was clear that Ari still cared about her ex, and Cass longed for her to have that. If anyone deserved happiness, it was Ari. Ari, who always knew when she was down and tried to help her even when she wasn’t feeling so great herself. Ari, who’d been through so much in the time Cass had known her, and even more before that. There was probably no hope for Cass’s love life now, but there had to be some for Ari’s. Cass wouldn’t accept any other option.

“You could do long distance. Plenty of people make that work, you know, meet up on the weekends and make the time you spend together more special for it. Or… Or you could go there, or she could come here. You’re not stuck where you’re at, either of you.”

“Oh, I’m sure you could,” Ari agreed, smiling even if it didn’t quite reach her eyes. It was a good moment even if she couldn’t necessarily feel just how good it was. One day when things were turned back around, she could look back on the memory as a good one because it was. Time with a friend who wanted to be there for you no matter what was always special and she was lucky to have someone like Cass in her life. That much she knew without a doubt even if the normal warmth and happiness it brought wasn’t present.

“Huh, I guess you make a point,” Ari mused, “I do like Connecticut. Lived there for a while when I was like… 10, I think? It just seems wild that she cares about how I’m doing with how I left in such a hurry.” The thing was, it wasn’t that simple. She could probably drag Rio with her, but there were too many other people here she loved, too. Kaden, Cass, Ulf, Aavyan, Rory, Sloane, Emilio, Teddy, Leah, Nicole. The list was long and hard for her to completely part with and she had just started school again. Though if the town kept going how it was she wasn’t sure how much longer any of them could be okay here. “I guess long distance is possible, too. There’s a lot of people I love here. Like you, obviously.”

She sat on that thought for a few moments. Maybe Ari would go see Athena soon. She wasn’t sure she could see the warden in person and just not immediately run into her arms. The same arms that used to pull her close every single night and felt so clear in her memories. “I guess I won’t know til I talk to her anyway. Should probably give her a heads up not to order those albums for herself.” She shrugged and took the boombox idea to heart. The least she could do now was shoot over a text and make sure she wasn’t spending money on things that were already ordered for her. “What about you? Any special someone you got your eye on?”

It was clear that Ari’s smile wasn’t entirely genuine, but Cass didn’t think she had any room to point that out. Not when she, too, was faking. But… maybe it was okay. Maybe they could sit here and talk about Harry Styles and drink White Claws until none of it mattered anymore. Cass really wanted to believe that such a thing was possible, even when it seemed pretty unfeasible.

“I think you can make a home just about anywhere,” she commented with a small shrug. It was what she’d done, after all, in White Crest. When she’d first arrived in this little town, she hadn’t expected for it to be anything more than a place she’d hang out for a few weeks, but now? She had a family here. She had a friend who would sit with her and drink White Claws when she was sad. She’d never had that before, not anywhere else. “And if you did go, you’d obviously have to come back and visit, like, all the time. Who else am I going to drink White Claws in the pool with?” She nudged Ari playfully, twisting her hair as she continued the braid.

With a little laugh, she nodded. “Yeah, I don’t think randomly showing up is as easy as the romcoms make it seem. Like, what if she wasn’t home? Then you gotta sit outside and wait, and that totally takes the romance out of the gesture. But… For what it’s worth, I definitely think you should at least call her. Just to see where you stand. You never know until you ask, right?” Her expression fell as Ari turned the question back around to her, and she took a long swig from her White Claw mostly to avoid answering. But it couldn’t exactly last forever, and she sighed as she swallowed it. “I don’t know. I thought there might be someone, but… I think I might have messed it up.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right about that,” Ari agreed, remembering how home could even be a car and feel like home with the right person, “Not to be super cheesy, but home is more people than an actual place.” Like how the farm didn’t feel like home when it was only home, but now filled with faces of loved ones it felt like it. How even Kaden’s couch or Emilio’s dirty apartment floor felt more like home than here when it was empty.

Even moments like this where they were both clearly hurting and trying to smile through it made the place feel more like home. Ari would normally be more truthful with Cass, but between Levi asking her not to tell Cass about the fury wish and Sloane’s favor, she couldn’t exactly spill any beans. It just meant they both needed this time together. “Obviously,” she said dramatically, “Can’t leave you to crash the local Walmart’s profits all by yourself. We’ve got a mission here.”

Ari playfully nudged Cass before taking a gulp of her own White Claw, letting the artificial warmth do its thing. “Definitely not that easy,” she nodded, “But I think if I never at least try to talk to her, I’ll always wonder. Before it was the freaking out thinking I killed someone and then I had a guilt demon living in my head… and it’s like now that I finally have my head fully back to myself, I think about her all the damn time. You’re right, I’ll call or text her soon.” When the line of questioning turned to Cass, she could feel the shift in the air and frowned. Clearly they’d both seen better days. “Might be? Cass, it’s you. I doubt you messed it up. What happened?”

“You’re definitely right about that.” Cass didn’t think she’d ever really had a home before White Crest, even when there had been consistent places where she slept at the end of each day. None of the group homes or foster homes she’d stayed in as a kid had ever really encompassed the word the way they were meant to. Ironically, some of the warehouses she’d squatted in when she was homeless had come closer, because at least she’d had freedom there. But… White Crest blew it all out of the water. She had her apartment here, and the lighthouse, and Metzli’s house. This farm, too, sometimes. White Crest was so much home that it was strange to think about, but it was the people who made it that way. Without them, it would be just another town. Cass knew that.

And Ari was undoubtedly one of those people. If she did decide to leave town to pursue romance, Cass would miss her. But she’d be happy for her, too. She deserved to be happy, more than almost anyone else Cass had ever known. She deserved to take any chance she might get at it without guilt. But she was going to hold her to that promise to visit. “Exactly. I need my partner in crime, right?”

She smiled as Ari confirmed that she’d call her ex soon, glad to hear that all the other things were out of her head now. She couldn’t imagine what the guilt demon thing must have felt like, but… She knew what it felt like to grapple with the idea that someone was dead because of you a little too well. She took another long gulp of her White Claw at the thought. “I bet she’ll be happy to hear from you,” she said with a grin, and she meant it. There was no way anyone wouldn’t be happy to hear from someone like Ari. Cass knew that. She sighed at her friend’s question, fiddling absently with the tab on the White Claw can. “I… She asked me not to do something, but I thought I could fix things if I did. So I ignored her. And I did it. And I know I messed things up, because she told me. And she hasn’t talked to me at all since.”

“And I need mine,” Ari replied with a nudge and a tilt of her can, “Might be getting a little ahead of ourselves there anyway.” Realistically, she didn’t know for sure if Athena would even want to talk to her after the way she left let alone see her again. Part of her had a good feeling though even if it couldn’t sink in completely. Either way, it’d be closure if nothing else. She wished she could feel that floaty feeling along with the nerves, but she’d get there. Right now, this moment mattered most. She could see Cass was hurting and there was truly not much she could do about it.

“Maybe there’s more going on there than meets the eye,” Ari suggested as she placed a hand on Cass’ shoulder, “This place is kinda crazy. She may just need to sort through what you were trying to fix?” It was all very vague, so she wasn’t sure what to suggest, but she seriously doubted Cass messed things up to any sort of big degree, especially when it was clear her intentions were good. Cass was the sort of person that liked to make people happy and was damn good at it, fury wishes aside. “What happened exactly? It sounds like you meant well. She may be upset, but I’m sure once she’s had some time, she’ll see that you just wanted to help. And if she doesn’t, that’s her loss. You are the best.”

“Probably,” Cass agreed. Maybe she had a habit of that, a way of needing reassurance even when there was no real reason to believe in the necessity of it. Ari deserved to be happy, and if finding her ex and running off with her was what she needed to do that, Cass wanted to support her. But… She also wanted to know that, even in this purely hypothetical situation that may never really come to fruition, she wouldn’t be left behind. It was the same with Levi, with Metzli, with Marina. Cass needed to know that the people she loved would still love her, even when they had other things to focus on.

Sighing, Cass shrugged a shoulder. It was hard to hold onto the idea that there was more to the situation with Sloane than met the eye because it was hard to imagine clinging to that hope only to have it yanked away all over again. Especially when the most obvious answer was probably the correct one, and the most obvious answer was exactly what Sloane had said to Cass in her bedroom — she’d fucked up. Pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, she sucked her teeth thoughtfully. “It’s Sloane,” she admitted bluntly. “I had… I have this stupid crush on her. And I thought — I mean, we almost kissed. A few weeks back. But she’d been really weird about the idea of her mom, like, knowing I exist. Like, she made me climb out a window when she came home while we were hanging out one time. And I thought — I thought if I could just talk to her mom, just once, I could…” She trailed off, suddenly at a loss for words after saying perhaps far too many at once. “I guess it doesn’t really matter what I thought. I did exactly what she asked me not to do, and she doesn’t want anything to do with me now. Not that I can blame her, because… I mean, it’s like she said, right? I fucked up. I ruined it.”

Admittedly, the pieces should have fallen into place for Ari much sooner, but sometimes the obvious had a way of flying right over her head if it wasn’t directly in front of her. The moment Sloane’s name was spoken aloud, she had to make a concerted effort to not drop her White Claw into the pool along with her jaw. It made sense, Sloane asking for Ari to look out for Cass, her mom dealing with some fae stuff. None of it was simple, but she didn’t think it was Cass’ fault, at least not in a way that meant Sloane would never wanna talk to her again. She sighed, “There’s definitely more going on than meets the eye there then. Not really my place to say anything, but I don’t think she’ll be upset forever, you know?”

There was only so much Ari could say without revealing what Sloane was. Even that context didn’t make things that much easier to understand, but fae stuff was enough of an answer for her. She perked up a bit. “Does Sloane know what you are?”

Cass wanted to believe that Ari was right. Of course she did. She wanted to think that she hadn’t ruined everything permanently, wanted to think that there was still some hope of cleaning things up, of at least getting back to her friendship with Sloane even if anything more was certainly off the table now, but… The look on Sloane’s face in her bedroom after she’d dragged Cass away from Shannon wouldn’t leave her mind. The hurt, the betrayal, the quiet anger. There were some things you couldn’t come back from; Cass thought that this might be one of them. “I think she might be,” she admitted quietly, a lump in her throat. “I think I really screwed things up, you know?”

Sighing, she looked down at her hands as they clutched the White Claw like a lifeline, the condensation from the can leaving cold water on her skin. Swallowing tightly, she shook her head. “No. I don’t — I don’t really know how to tell people. Or if I want to tell people. Or if I should. I just — I know she wouldn’t… not like me anymore if she knew, but I think she might look at me differently.” How could she not? To go from thinking of someone as human to understanding that they were something else definitely changed your perception of them. “And I like — liked the way she looked at me.” Past tense now. That stung, too.

“I don’t think so,” Ari reassured, knowing only a little more than she let on, “I mean, this is White Crest. Nothing is ever that straightforward, you know?” Part of her wished she could tell her that Sloane wanted to protect her, that her mom had some sort of fae stuff going on, that Sloane was fae– but Sloane had trusted her. Didn’t even ask for a promise out of her even if it was something Ari would have willingly given. Sloane had been a good friend to her, looked out for her and listened to her, she wasn’t going to break her trust like that.

“Maybe when you talk next, you should mention it,” Ari pressed, “I know it’s hard to bring up, but I know she’d be okay with it. She knows I’m a werewolf and is totally chill about it. I think having everything out on the table will make it easier to talk and all.” She frowned as Cass spoke more, she knew what it was like to miss that feeling and the warmth that came with it. “Hey, I don’t think so. You’re still Cass. You were a siren when she looked at you before, knowing doesn’t change anything. Just don’t give up yet. I have a feeling she’ll come around when she’s ready.”

“Nothing’s straightforward except for the things that are.” Because, inevitably, some things still would be. Things like Cass being too much or not enough or both at once, somehow. Things like her stubborn, innate ability to ruin every good thing she got. Sometimes, things were exactly what they seemed, even in White Crest. And this, Cass feared, was just one of those times.

She didn’t know if telling Sloane what she was would have changed anything. She didn’t see how that kind of honesty could shift the outcome when honesty hadn’t been the thing that caused it. And she didn’t think it mattered now, anyway. “I’m not sure I’ll get to talk to her again,” she admitted. “I don’t — I mean, I figure I messed up, so I should let her reach out first. But I don’t think she’s going to.” She hadn’t yet, and that didn’t exactly bode well. “I was a siren when I messed it all up, too.” Being Cass was the problem. It always had been.

“Yeah, and given you’re both my friends and I know a lot about both of you,” Ari explained, “This isn’t one of those things that is straightforward. And that’s all I can say on that.” She knew Sloane wasn’t someone who necessarily trusted others easily and the last thing she wanted to do was break that trust. Still, she wanted Cass and Sloane to work things out. She could so clearly see them being good together despite the very clear miscommunication going on here. “She’ll reach out when she’s ready either way,” she reassured, “Maybe just try not to beat yourself up about it too much in the meantime. You have a good heart and meant well, I’m sure Sloane knows that even if she is upset.”

Ari tilted her can toward Cass’. “For now, we’ll find something silly to do and try not to worry too much, sound good?”

It was clear that Ari knew more than she was saying, but Cass wouldn’t push her. She’d already broken Sloane’s trust once; the last thing she wanted to do was break it again, especially if it meant hurting Ari, too. It was difficult for her to accept what Ari was saying as fact, difficult to believe that things could be repaired or that Sloane would reach out to her after everything, but… Ari wasn’t going to be convinced otherwise, and Cass didn’t particularly want to spend her time on pessimism, anyway. Not when distractions were a much more tempting thing to cling to.

Offering her friend a small smile, she nodded her head. “Sounds perfect,” she agreed. If she tried hard enough, she could almost make herself believe it too.

#letsbenditlikebennett #ari: heavy gets light

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bonny-kookoo · 4 years ago

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Bittersweet (JJK x Reader) ☕️💜🔞

🍪 Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

🍪 Genre: Barista!AU, Mutual pining, smut because this is my content we’re talking about

🍪 Warnings: mentions of sickness, mentions of vomiting, best boi Koo, coffee puns, casual y’all during sex, protected sex because we have our lives under control in this household, overstimulation, rough! Koo, spanking (like..once), doggy-style because why not, reader rides Koo for a moment before he takes the upper hand again, they’re just being a mess ok

🍪 Summary: every day she’s his favorite costumer. So when she’s suddenly absent; what’s he supposed to do without any way to contact her?

Jungkooks eyes began to sparkle as she stepped inside, wrapped up in a fluffy brown jacket, a scarf around her neck.

His scarf to be exact.

Now, they both weren't a couple- but close enough. He'd given her his scarf the day before as she'd forgotten hers at home; and due to the cold weather outside, he'd immediately gotten concerned over her health. He knew that she hated the cold- so he'd gifted his own protection against the harsh wind outside to her, uncaring about himself in that moment.

It gave him a weird sense of pride knowing that she wore it still. And as she stepped closer, Jungkook had already prepared her usual order- never forgetting to include her favorite cookies, a thing he'd memorized by now. She never quite drank coffee, but more like, milk and sugar with a drop of coffee. His coworker, Jin, had made fun of it several times in the past; he'd always stepped in however, as soon as he could see how embarrassed she got.

"Oh?" He asked, as he noticed her red nose and glossy eyes. "Are you okay?" He asked, and she giggled before coughing. He furrowed his brows. Hopefully she didn't want to go to work like that- but by now he knew her well enough to have a very big suspicion that that was exactly her plan for the day.

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Oh hey what's brewing? Looking good yourself, thanks for the compliment-" She said, trying to laugh but coughing again. "Hey look, I kind of wanted to return your scarf, but I also don't want to share my bacteria with you so- is it okay if I keep it for a bit?" She said, voice a bit muffled due to her facemask. He nodded, a slight pout on his lips.

"I know you're gonna go to work but-" He said, placing her order on the counter for her to take, as she placed down the money he took. "Can you at least go home a bit earlier? You really do look not so good." He said, doe-eyes growing a bit pleading at her as she sighed.

"I'll try, okay?" She said, and he nodded. Technically he'd ask her to promise, but he also knew how headstrong she was. The fact that she aknowledged his request was good enough for now.

"Okay." He said, smiling a bit as he waved from behind the counter as she left. "Take care!" He called out as she still waved, almost tripping over the small step outside the door as he chuckled, turning to the next costumer.

She wasn't there the next day.

Typically he should not get too worried about it, but as the week passed, she still didn't show up. A coworker of hers couldn't tell him either what was going on; only that she wasn't at work either.

So she was probably at home resting. Hopefully.

"...kook. Jungkook!" Jin called out, saving his younger coworker from spilling hot milk all over his hand. "Okay, spill the beans loverboy." He sternly said as he took him to the side, the cafe calm and almost empty as they were close to closing time. Jungkook sighed as he ran a hand over his face, groaning for a moment.

"I'm worried!" He exclaimed, no need to say out loud who he was talking about. "I know that she's an independent adult person who can surely take care of herself but what if something happened? What if she's at home too sick to take care of herself? Jin during the entire time she came here, she never missed an entire week!" He explained in pout as he let himself flop down on one of the small chairs. Seokjin sighed, before he looked at the clock.

"Go. I'll wrap things up today." He said, as Jungkook furrowed his brows. Even if he went home now, that didn't help his situation at all! "I'll give you her number and you can call her-" He started, as Jungkook suddenly jumped up.

"You have her number?! Why didn't you tell me?" He yelled, absolutely scandalized by this.

Seokjin threw his hands up in defeat. "Okay slow down, first of all you never asked. Second of all she told me not to!" He said, and Jungkooks look shifted. He suddenly didn't look offended anymore- he looked hurt. Betrayed almost.

"Why.?" He asked, now way quieter.

Jin sighed. "She wanted you to ask for it instead." He answered, and Jungkook threw his head back again, groaning as Jin laughed. "Give me your phone.." He said, taking the device from him and putting in her contact info. "There you go. Use protection kid!" He called after Jungkook, who'd immediately grabbed his phone and ran out, putting on his coat on his way.

The older one simply shook his head, smiling.

"..yeah?" The very tired voice of hers answered as Jungkook sat up straighter on his couch.

"H-Hey its Jungkook! You know, Kookie, the barista who puts in vanilla sugar instead of the lame stuff?" He said, and suddenly a laugh reached his ear, making him involuntarily smile. "Hey, I.. you didn't show up the entire week and it made me kind of worry so, I wanted to ask if you're good?" He asked, shyness slowly dying down.

Her voice sounded strained. "Yeah yeah, just great-" She said, before coughing. "Okay yeah no. Have you ever needed to sneeze but you couldnt?" She asked, and he hummed a reply, agreeing that he indeed had been in that situation before. "I feel absolutely like I'm gonna, you know, throw up, but I can't." She groaned, and his brows furrowed at that.

"I promise I don't try to be creepy here but-" He started, as he looked at his dog, peacefully sleeping next to him on the couch. "Can you give me your address maybe so I can come over? I- Listen I'm super worried, and no one should be left alone when sick." He said, and wondered if he was overstepping a line. Until he heard some shuffling, and a jingling sound.

"I'll text it to you, k? I uh.. unlocked the door now because I sure as hell won't be getting up anymore today." She said, as he chuckled.

"Oh, so you're gonna make me your maid?" He asked, and she giggled.

"Thats the plan Kookie."

"Y/N?" He called, without getting an answer. He thought about it, before trying a second attempt. "Midget!"

The answer was almost instantly. "The fuck do you mean Mid-" She tried, before coughing.

Jungkook walked inside the bedroom after searching for a moment, looking at her with a pitiful smile as he leaned against the doorframe. If she wasn't feeling so absolutely disgusting in that moment, she would've whistled at his way different outfit. After all, she mainly only saw him in his regular work attire; the black button up and ripped jeans he sported now a complete one-eighty to that. He looked so much more mature like that- now actually giving away that he was a bit older than her. Did he always have such a defined jawline? He could definitely cut a bitch with that-

Wow, exit was three miles ago.

"Done staring sugar?" He asked, and she only groaned, burying herself deeper into her massive mountain of blankets as he chuckled. "Alright. I'm gonna carry you into the living room, because I wont be spending my time in your stuffy bedroom." He said, making her giggle as she peeked out of her makeshift burrito.

"You won't?" She asked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively before sneezing into the blankets, making him chuckle again.

"You're sick, so no." He said, and she suddenly yelped as he leaned down to pick her up. "What?" He asked with wide eyes.

"I'm sick!"

"So?"

"I'm sick."

"Heard that before." He said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. She swallowed a bit at that because- was that a tattoo staring at her? Why did she never notice his hand was inked?! She shook her head, to focus again. "You'll get sick too!" She explained, before he scoffed.

"It's not like I'm licking your face sugar, now stop being difficult." He said, as he picked her up, blankets and everything included as he carried her back, placing her onto her couch before he squatted down in front of her face. "I'm gonna heat up some soup, and you'll eat something alright?" He said, and she shook her head.

"I'm gonna throw it up." She said, a pout evident. She didn't want his hard work to simply go down the drain- quite literally.

"That's okay." He answered, as she furrowed her brows. "You probably can't throw up because you haven't eaten. People typically feel better after vomiting so it's okay. Win win situation, really." He said as if it wasn't a huge deal.

"It's gross though." She mumbled.

"It happens." He said back, as he placed the white plastic bag on her kitchen counter, filling some of the soup from the plastic container into a small bowl he had a bit of issues finding, before he heated it up in her microwave. He was absolutely terrified of using them usually, making her laugh at him every time someone brought it up, but this time he didn't care much. "Here, let me help." He hummed, as he placed the bowl and a spoon on the small coffee table in front of her couch, helping her sit up properly. "Slowly, okay? You don't need to finish it, just a bit at a time alright sugar?" He requested, and she nodded, watching him as he sat down next to her, bowl on his thigh while he blew on the spoon, careful to cool the liquid food down before offering it. She kept her eyes on his focused face as she opened her lips, accepting it as he gently smiled. "There we go. Hope it doesn't suck, Jin says I can't cook for shit." He said with a chuckle.

"Doesn't matter, I can't taste much anyways." She shrugged, as he offered another small spoonful.

He snorted a bit as he kept himself concentrated. "Well I guess I'll just have to get you better, and cook for you when your tastebuds work again." He decided, as she smiled.

"Huh?" He noticed, as the small form of her whizzed past him, practically throwing open the bathroom door before he heard her. He dried his hands, sighing as he went inside the bathroom, spotting her leaning over the toilet bowl, gripping it with pale hands. "Oh sugar." He hummed, before he squatted next to her, a comforting hand running over her back as the other gathered her hair, holding it away from her face. He hushed her the best he could, a bit of helplessness seeping into his mind as he watched her struggle. She leaned her head on the side of the bowl for a moment, breathing heavily with closed eyes. Jungkook reached for a piece of toilet paper, wiping her mouth before he continued his gentle caressing of her back. "Better?" He asked, and she nodded, before opening her eyes, tearing up. "Whats wrong?" He asked, as he helped her sit, flushing the toilet.

"I hate this." She said, angrily wiping her eyes.

"Everyone gets sick." He said with a slight smile, searching for toothpaste as he prepared everything for her to get the taste off of her tongue.

"Thats not what I meant." She mumbled, as he looked at her. "I hate that you see me like this. I'm disgusting and a walking piece of dead meat at this point, radiating germs." She huffed, as he went down in front of her, pointing her toothbrush at her lips as she opened them almost automatically. He smiled at her reaction, placing the brush inside her mouth as she took over, lazily brushing her teeth.

"I think you're still pretty." He said, as she looked at him with an unamused look in her eyes. "I feel good that you let me take care of you like this. It feels nice that you let me see you like that." He explained, as he helped her up to walk towards the sink, turning on the water as she rinsed her mouth. "I don't like you any less, of you're worried about that." He said, and she almost choked on the water inside her mouth.

She knew he liked her, romantically, yet he'd never openly said it.

"I know its a bit sudden, but I've been pretty obvious." He said, as he wiped her mouth with a towel, before smiling at her.

"If I wasn't sick right now I'd be all cliche and kiss you right now, but I can't." She said, pouting a bit as he chuckled, kissing his two fingers before placing them onto her lips.

"Indirect kiss then."

"Okay but espresso is absolutely disgusting." She said, leaning over the counter to grab a mini cookie, before yelping as Jungkook playfully slapped her hands.

"Everyone can decide for themselves, first of all, and stop stealing shit." He said as he pointed at her, gasping scandalized as she teasingly tried to bite his finger. "Really now?" He asked, and she laughed.

"Okay kids, be disgusting somewhere else please!" Seokjin yelled, grabbing Jungkook by his apron as he pushed him into the backroom, telling him to change and go home. "Yoongi and I will close up today." He said to the young girl waiting, as she nodded.

"Alright sugar, lets go and be disgusting!" Jungkook exclaimed as he emerged from the backroom, now dressed in familiar all black attire, as he scooped her up, making her laugh as they both walked out of the cafe, towards his car.

"I want you to move in with me." He said between huffs of breaths as she mewled underneath him, body shaking with every encounter with his thrusting hips. She nodded as she smiled when he leaned down to kiss her collarbone, hand running over her breasts as he teasingly pinched a nipple between his fingers.

"You'll- urgh-" She groaned, as he bit the skin. "You'll have to carry my shit though." She pressed out, as he laughed at that, leaning back as he expertly angled his hips to hit her sweet spot deep inside, making her arch her back.

"Ah- that's fine with m..me!" He stuttered as he began to put more force into his movements, sacrificing speed for strength as she hummed in delight underneath him, grabbing the pillow above her head as she started to grow restless. "You gonna cum sugar? Nice and hard?" He asked playfully as he moved his hand over her exposed clit, fingers rubbing over the sensitive bundle of nerves as she gasped in pleasure, thighs suddenly shaking as she came, clenching around him. "Hm, good girl." He hummed, before she huffed, suddenly squirming before she squealed, wetness escaping her as he chuckled, sight enough to send him over the edge as well. "There we go, giving me a show aren't you sugar?" He said, voice hoarse as he let himself lean over her again, before she suddenly grinned up at him, pulling him down and shoving a bit to get him to lay down, suddenly above him as she sunk down on his still sensitive cock.

He laghed and choked up as she continued to ride him, her own second orgasm approaching as he squeezed his eyes shut. "God- good god ah!" He yelled out between laughter at the way he could feel his own legs tremble, unsure if what he was feeling was torture of absolute heaven. "Pl-Please God, Baby you're-" He pressed out, gasping as he suddenly felt himself close to a second orgasm as well. "You're gonna kill me you fucking demon!" He exclaimed, roughly turning her around as he pulled her legs against her stomach again, thrusting with newfound strength, as she giggled and squealed. "That's what you wanted?" He asked between gritted teeth as she pressed her eyes close. "Little demon can't get enough of this dick?" He teased as she nodded, now desperately racing towards her release as he suddenly slipped out of her, adjusting the condom with a trembling hand as he manhandles her laughing body onto her stomach, pulling on her lower half as he slipped inside her wet cunt from behind, bringing his inked hand down onto her butt with a loud slap for good measure as she whined. "Oh now you're complaining? Should've known what-" He groaned out in between his words as he grabbed her thighs, pulling her against his relentless hips as she moaned out into the pillow below her. "-Should've know what you got yourself into." He finished, before she arched her back again, reaching behind her to push him off as her eyes teared up from overstimulation. As he saw her painful expression he immediately pulled out of her, pulling the condom off of his erection as he desperately pumped his length, finishing in small spurts on the arch of her back before they both collapsed, breathing heavily.

"Okay, I loved every second of it sugar but-" He exclaimed breathless, as she cuddled up next to him, throwing a leg over his body as he laughed. "What the fuck was that?"

But she simply giggled, mind still too hazy to form any words.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts smut #bts #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions

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portiaadams · 4 years ago

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Meyer and Charlie Smut

I wrote Lanskiano smut. It’s embedded in my Richard Harrow/Clara Thompson story. For those who don’t care about Richard and my OC, here is Charlie and Meyer having a moment

December 31st, 1921

The sound of the engine and the clacking of the train against the rails filled the room, but could not overcome the roaring silence between the room's inhabitants. Charlie adjusted his legs once more, trying to find some way to fit them on the single bed. God damn it, this was a bed for a child not a grown fucking man. The Darmody kid was probably too big for it. Charlie wasn't sure how long he'd been awake-this time-but it was one of many things really pissing him off.

From the larger bed there was a quick flash of light and then the scent of sulfur and tobacco. "I offered to take that bed," Meyer said after a slow exhale.

"Them shoulders of yours wouldn't have even fit," Charlie groused.

Determining Charlie's mood came as naturally to him as determining the weather before he stepped off his stoop. Certainly, Charlie's moods could be as mercurial as the weather. And at the moment, Charlie's mood registered as stormy.

"Charlie," Meyer began.

"Can it, Meyer," Charlie answered and swung his legs off the bed, stumbling in the dark for his own cigarettes and lighter.

"You are being irrational," Meyer responded.

"That brutto figlio di puttana bastardo was up your ass all night. You enjoyed though, didn't ya?"

Meyer sighed. Charlie acted like he was the only one who wanted. Meyer's first memory was wanting. Wanting enough to eat, wanting a warmer fire, wanting. Those years when his father was gone and he did all a kid could do to keep his mother and siblings fed and warm.

But wanting. Wanting in America was sharper, brighter, different. There was so much more to want. From the moment he stepped off the ship he moved as fast as his little legs would carry him. He moved to learn English, to get out of the classroom full of tiny children and catch up with his peers, he moved to learn the streets and determine how to make money any way he could. He moved as fast as he could because he knew the goal was to leave the Lower East Side behind him. To move fast enough that one day he could even outrun wanting.

But nothing, not a lifetime of yearning for acceptance and security, held a candle to his ever-present need for Charlie. There was no part of him that did not want every part of Charlie. And as much as his wants dictated every carefully crafted move of his life, there was nothing he wanted more than Charlie. In his life, in his office, in his bed. Even if it made no sense. Even if it had no place in his plan.

"He was circling round you like a bitch in heat," Charlie continued.

"The way Gillian Darmody circled around you? The way the chorus girls do?" Meyer snapped back. He spent years, he spent agonizing nights, watching Charlie charm women whose desire for him was as clear as the powder on their faces.

"That's different, and you know it well as me."

"How?"

"They're broads, Meyer! It don't matter like..." Charlie stopped talking, not knowing how to put into words what mattered. They was just broads. They wasn't in his mind like Meyer was. Even Meyer wasn't with him he could still hear the little addin' machine in his head, telling him to be smart. Telling him to think.

Being with those women was like grabbing a dog from a cart and eating it on the street. Scratched the itch of need. Satisfying enough at the moment.

Being with Meyer was different and Meyer damn well knew it. They was friends and they was more and when more changed to be even more...It ain't like people understood their friendship anyway. The Jew and the Italian. They was supposed to be mortal enemies, not friends for life. Not...whatever they was.

"I gotta keep up appearances," Charlie said because that was also a true thing. He hadn't told Meyer that Clara knew. No need to introduce complications. They was careful. They was always careful. "That's why I can't believe you let the guy get near you like that."

Meyer shook his head. "Charlie, he's married. To Lady Rose. I think he's just an adventurer."

"Yeah. I know what adventure he's after," Charlie responded.

"A man like that..."

"What? You think you ain't good enough for a fonferer like that cercatore d'oro? What, you just good enough for the likes of me, that it?"

The petulance in Charlie's voice was so familiar. "Charlie, come here."

"Mey, I ain't in the mood."

Meyer doubted that. Charlie was rarely not in the mood. "Charlie," he said again.

Charlie heard the gruff tone in Meyer's voice. He was angry, he was still angry, but that tone in Meyer's voice always did the same thing to him. Instinct drove him to Meyer's side.

Didn't mean he wasn't still angry, though. He sat next to Meyer silently. One man wearing an undershirt that buttons with sleeves that come down to his elbows, although the width of his shoulders and upper arms often mean the seams ripped and tore and stretched due to the strain placed upon them. The other man wore the new kind of undershirt-knit, sleeveless, no buttons.

Charlie told Meyer all the time he should switch. Be more modern. But Meyer couldn't quite break away from tradition in some matters.

"There will always be others, won't there, Charlie?" Meyer asks, and even though he knew the answer for a moment he willed Charlie to lie to him. "After all, we'll have to marry one day, won't we?"

"I ain't. Look at Harrow and Clara."

Meyer turned to stare at Charlie. Personally, he thought Harrow had chained himself to a klafte in pearls. But the man seemed to love her. And Clara seemed as happy as he thought her capable of being.

"Harrow seems content enough."

"That ain't the thing, Mey. They love each other. But we all know how this ends. Clara sobbing over a morgue slab with Darmody's brat and a baby or two besides clinging to her. I ain't gonna do that to a woman."

Such a delicate jaw in such a strong face, Meyer thought idly before bringing Charlie's face to his. Charlie didn't fight it, and soon their mouths were finishing the disagreement. Charlie fell first-Charlie always fell first-letting his mouth open and Meyer plunder its depths.

Charlie's mouth tasted of hot honey and something deeper, sweeter, more savory. It was the taste and sensation he spent a lifetime chasing down in penny candy bins and bakeries and sweet shops. Much like with the candy he had kept in his pockets from the first time he had spare pennies, he knew he'd never have enough of it.

It was the sweetness he'd always craved.

The hard, taut muscles of Charlie Luciano's body, the ones that struck fear around the underworld (and occasionally in the upper echelons) of New York went soft and loose as something else grew hard. Without realizing it, Meyer turned Charlie so he was on his knees, his head laying on the soft Irish linen pillowcase embroidered with the ever-present P.

Meyer's left hand drifted over the hard muscles of Charlie's stomach down to the mother of pearl buttons on Charlie's beloved silk boxers. His fingers drifted over the buttons but didn't try to undo them. Instead, he reached down to the impossibly soft skin of Charlie's inner thigh and began drawing lazy circles. His right hand combed through Charlie's thick dark curls before yanking sharply so Charlie had to turn his face to Meyer to save his hair, their faces so close they were breathing in each other's breaths.

"Tell me, Charlie. Tell me why I'm different from Gillian and those broads."

Charlie's breath was hot and fast. "God damn it, Mey. Just touch me."

"Tell me the things I do to you I'll never do to Dennis Malley," Meyer said, his hand cupping over Charlie's bulge momentarily before going back to stroking his inner thigh.

"You do lots of stuff I'd fucking kill anybody else for," Charlie said, knowing they were journeying into uncharted territory. "You knot up my god damn hands with your tie."

Meyer leaned over so his face was against the smooth back of Charlie's neck, wanting to inhale Charlie's scent, wanting to inhale Charlie. "Yes, true. What else," he asked while his hand slid under the paisley silk to caress the very tip of Charlie's cock.

Charlie tried to push his hips into Meyer's fingers but Meyer removed his hand from Charlie's hair and grabbed him around the hips. "Don't even try it," Meyer whispered harshly.

"You put your prick in my mouth and push it in until I choke. You like it when I choke."

True, Meyer thought, because who wouldn't want Charlie on his knees? Who wouldn't want to see those pretty lips wrapped around their cock? He rewarded Charlie with a quick tug that made both of them momentarily forget to breathe.

"You make me grab my own prick and you watch. Sometimes you put your fingers in...god damn it, Meyer, you know where you put your fingers."

For a moment Meyer's hands brushed back against the buttons. What did it matter, he decided, Charlie bought his silk underwear by the gross. He yanked on them so hard that the mother of pearl buttons scattered across the thick antique rug. Filled with a need to feel the silky soft flesh of Charlie's back under the thick fur of his chest he first pushed up Charlie's undershirt until it was wrapped around Charlie's shoulders before Meyer sat back on his own knees to more carefully remove his own underthings. After all, he'd spent good money on them. No need for carelessness.

"For our mutual benefit you should continue," Meyer growled, fighting the urge to have Charlie right now.

Charlie licked his lips. Meyer was leaning over him to grab something from the bag on the floor, causing Meyer's dick to press against his lower back. It gave him some satisfaction to realize Meyer was as hard as he was. He writhed under Meyer and was rewarded by Meyer groaning above him. He heard the sound of glass and the knowledge of what was in Meyer's hand made precum start leaking out of the tip of his dick.

"You put on oil on your fingers and then you put oil on me and sometimes you put oil on my hand so I can rub it on your dick," Charlie finally managed to say.

Meyer's hand was covered with oil as it started massaging the top of Charlie's ass. Charlie groaned as Meyer's fingers slipped into his crack.

The light coming in the edges of the curtains was changing but Meyer was too distracted by the sight in front of him to think about what that meant. He was intoxicated by the scent, sight, and feel of Charlie. "What else?"

The linen of the pillowcase was now being crushed between Charlie's fingers. The fuck if he was going to ruin this moment like a damn kid. "You put me on my side," Charlie continued after taking a deep breath and Meyer moved him so quickly he fell onto his side with a thump.

After positioning Charlie's legs to his liking Meyer continued to let his hand move down.

"You push your fingers inside me," Charlie managed to gasp out as he felt one of Meyer's fingers breach him. "Mey, your fingers are so fucking thick."

Meyer lowered his mouth onto the top of Charlie's shoulders, his own breath coming at an incredibly thick pace, overtaken by the need to taste Charlie's flesh salty and warm under his tongue. Neither man noticed the bedside clock striking six.

Nor did they notice the train was no longer rocking beneath them.

With great care Meyer worked in a second finger and started scissoring, looking for the spot that always made Charlie howl.

Charlie howled. Meyer pressed harder.

"God damn it, Meyer, god damn it..." Charlie pleaded.

"Say it," Meyer begged, his breath hot against Charlie's ear, the game having rebounded until his need was as raw and urgent as Charlie's own.

"I want you, Mey, please," Charlie finally sobbed out. "You fuck me, you fuck me, holy mother of god please just fuck me."

"Charlie, god," Meyer breathed out, his heart hammering in his chest.

The words falling from Charlie's mouth dissolved into nonsense. For a moment their faces were pressed together, letting Meyer feel the pulse in Charlie's temple in the bones of his own face.

Once more Meyer pressed his fingertips against Charlie's jaw and their mouths opened to each other. There was no more dominance or one-upmanship. Instead, there was the slow slide of their mouths melding together until Meyer can no longer determine where he ends and Charlie begins.

One hand gripped Charlie's hip, holding him in place. Meyer could feel the tenseness in Charlie when he first breached him and the pain hit, but after a moment he could feel Charlie's muscles relaxing under his hand.

"I gotta move, tesoro," Meyer finally breathed out.

One of Charlie's hands braced against the soft mossy velvet of the headboard while his other reached back for any part of Meyer he could touch. It didn't matter that Meyer was ever so slowly moving ever deeper inside him. He needed more. He wanted everything.

"Move, libster. Damn it, move," Charlie answered, his hand finally finding Meyer's ass to pull him closer, to pull him further in.

Time lost meaning. Seconds, minutes, hours, days fell away. There was just this. Meyer's hand finally came around to touch Charlie in the way Charlie had wanted since the game began, since time began.

Finally, they fell into the soaked sheets, the ruins of Charlie's underthings trapped beneath them, their legs and hands twisted together, both of them breathless and boneless. Their faces were still pressed together and as Meyer relaxed back into sleep he realized their faces were wet.

He wasn't sure who had cried.

#boardwalk empire #boardwalk fic #charlie luciano #meyer lansky #soulmates in crime #lanskiano #otp: friends since childhood #gangster husbands #smut

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boneswriteswords · 5 years ago

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Showers: Slasher Version (The Bois)

Hi, here is a thing. None of the writing is even. I don’t care. I struggled.

Hope y’all like it. :) Its my usual crap quality. Also if there is someone you want me to add to these sorts of things, let me know. I just picked based on who I know best.

Warning: Some of these are kinda NSFW. Like not really but its h i n t e d.

This is unedited and unbeta’d because we die like men here.

Jason Voorhees:

Jason had issues with water. Even before you knew he was more than an urban myth, you figured he’d have major hang-ups being around water. His tragic drowning at the hands of cruel children and incompetent counselors would have given him lasting trauma around water.

And you were right.

However, you weren’t prepared for the hang-ups to extend to showers simply because it didn’t involve large bodies of water. Granted, he never needed to shower before. The only times the layers of grime slipped off his body were when it was raining and even then, he often took shelter in his cabin to avoid it. All water was bad water.

That changed when you came around. He chose you to be loved by him. His mother encouraged him, telling him that you were his and you were there to love him and his mother has never been wrong before.

She wasn’t this time either. You looked at him in all that he was and loved him so truly that his heart would have stuttered a beat if he had one. In turn, Jason’s diamond sharp focus centers on you, keeping you away from harm as best he can. He keeps you close to him, his world off-kilter when he can’t see you immediately.

You had never felt so safe in your life, knowing he was there guarding you. Knowing he was killing to make sure you stayed safe.

To his dismay, however, he discovered that you liked water. You liked showers and baths. You liked swimming. You liked to sit on the porch and listen to the rain. You liked taking walks when the rain was light enough to not get completely drenched. You liked it all.

He hated it.

But he loved you.

And he trusted that you would never lead him into danger.

“The water is warm. The steam rises and shrouds everything in a dream. The day washes from your body and prepares you for a new day. There is is healing in cleanliness,” you told him as you undressed one evening, unperturbed by his eyes roaming over your body. It wasn’t a new sensation, the feeling of his gaze on your naked body but it still delighted you.

Jason watched you as you turn the shower on and stepped inside.

His hunger for you stirred, clawing its way to the surface as he watched you squirt some delicious smelling concoction into your hands and lathered into your hair. He liked the way the suds slithered down your body.

If he wanted to join you, he’d have to get in.

Slowly, he undressed and stepped inside behind you, your hand already reaching out for his.

Michael Myers:

Michael is not going to shower unless there is some benefit for him. If he feels inclined to bathe, he will just stand under the spray (or the rain) for a bit and call it a day. No scrubbing. No washing. No actual removal of anything other than the surface layer of gross. He doesn’t care all that much about how dirty he is. He’s just going to get dirty again.

That doesn’t mean he won’t join you when you shower. Michael is hedonistic; he does what he wants and searches for things that feel good to him. It is part of why he kills so much – it feels good to him. In the months after he followed you home and refused to leave, he found that he very much likes how it feels when you run your hands along his body with soapy water.

A lot about you makes him feel good – its why he’s keeping you alive and protected – but the sensations of warm water, small hands, and the different smells of your bathing products are at the top of the list.

He insists on being present during all your showers as a result.

You sighed at the familiar squeak of the shower door, the rush of cold air against your side, the grip on your wrist dragging you a step over towards the intruder.

“Hi Michael,” you sigh, wiping your eyes with your free hand so you can look up at him. His mask was still on, the steam from the shower not so intense that he felt the need to remove it this time, and his eyes pierced yours from behind it. He didn’t respond, he hardly ever did, but the hand griping your wrist brought it up and laid it on the soap.

You could feel your lips twitch as you lather it in your hands, “Where do you want me to start?”

Michael grunted, taking your wrist again and laying on his chest. You suppressed a grin. Michael didn’t like when you pointed out that he liked things and would stop doing them out of protest.

“Okay,” you whisper, the sound getting lost as you run your hands from the top of his shoulders to the dip of his waist, doing your best to ignore the soft contented grumbling vibrating under your hands.

Brahms Heelshire:

Contrary to what you expected from him, Brahms loves to take baths and showers. He likes being warm above all else, having been forced to endure harsh cold weather during his years in the walls of his home.

(You once asked him why he preferred to be running hot, given what happened to him, and, in a rare glimpse of Adult!Brahms, he told you he has issues with flames and not warmth. Warmth does not mean fire.) The showers and baths provide it in a way your arms can’t and he likes to revel in the sensation.

However, just because he likes it, doesn’t mean he is going to make your life any easier by getting in when you instruct him to. He is a brat and while he loves you more than any living that has ever or will ever exist, he loves to make your job taking care of him harder. You have to work for it.

‘Its only fair,’ he tells himself, grinning behind his mask as you get the shower ready for him, scolding him as you do, ‘You made me love you without having to work for it. I continue to love you without you having to work for it. You have to work for something.’

“Okay Brahms, get in. Its nice and warm but not too hot. Time to get clean,” you say, stepping away from the shower, frowning when you see that he was still fully clothed.

You sigh, “Brahms, we talked about this. You need to shower. Its been four days. You promised me.”

“No,” he stomped his foot, child voice in full effect, “I don’t want to.”

“Brahms -”

“No!”

“Brah-”

“No! No! NO!”

“Bra-”

“NOOOOOOOO!”

“Okay! Fine. No shower for Brahms,” you grumbled, pinching the bridge of your nose and his grin widens at your mounting frustration, “You can go now.”

He lets out a childish yell, grabbing your hand so you can play with him, but you stand firm when he tries to tug you along.

“Hey?!”

“Oh no Brahms. You may not want this shower,” you grin and his heart beats hard against his ribs, “But I do. You may go but I fully plan to enjoy this shower.”

You pause, letting go of his hand so you can remove the cardigan he had forced you into earlier in the day and letting it drop onto the floor. You start to work open the buttons on your shirt, taking a peek at him from under your lashes as you did.

“Its a shame that I’ll be in there all alone. We could have shared it but I guess I can’t make you now can I?”

Your shirt fell to the floor.

He knew he was being tricked. He knew this was a ploy to get him to bathe. He knew he was losing the game he started.

You slide your pants down your legs, your underwear going with it, and turn around. The length of your back, the dip of your spine as it curves into your ass, the little crease of flesh that he loves to stroke and bite....all open for his consumption. He watched as you reached behind, unsnapping your bra and peeling it away from you.

Fuck it, he decided as he pulled his cardigan off, he’ll just have you work for something else.

Bubba Sawyer:

Baby Boi Sawyer is a sweaty boy. He is a hard working man. He works on the property during the morning, cuts and prepares the meat during the afternoon, cooks dinner in the evening, and passes at night out most days. Bathing was something he didn’t do as much as one should simply because of how impractical it was.

And, a lot of the time, there wasn’t any decently tempered water left after his brothers showered. Drayton always got first dibs because he ‘worked out of the home and needed to look presentable.’

Bubba immediately took up a better hygiene routine when he met you. Short showers in the morning. Two rinses in the afternoon depending on what you were doing that day (he’d skip them if you were at the gas station for the day). A longer shower before dinner. There was a bar of soap in one of the pockets of his apron at all times.

You quickly became family to the Sawyers, accepting and falling into their lifestyle seamlessly with little to no bitching from Drayton.

And under no circumstances did he want you to think he was stinky. He was already struggling with the fact that you’d think he was ugly and dumb. He couldn’t change his face - the masks helped hide it but he knew there was no fixing what was underneath - and he couldn’t change his inability to speak - he tried so hard to learn so you’d think he was smart but he just couldn’t make the words come out - but he could change how he smelled.

You also seemed to like to seek him out during the day, bringing out fresh lemonade and snacks so he was forced to take a break from his work and chat with you.

Bubba loved it. He loved you.

But he hated it. He hated himself.

He had to work and when he worked, he sweat and when he sweat, he stunk and if he stunk, you wouldn’t like him. He was anxious, tipping around you throughout the day to wash down and decrease the smell before you found him. He had never been so paranoid in his life.

It was only a matter of time before you caught him off guard though.

It was the best day of his life.

Not only did you not mind the smell (“Bubby, sweetest of men, you work all day outside in the heat. You sweat. I’d be surprised if you didn’t have a bit of smell”), but you told him you thought he was attractive (“You are literally so attractive when you’re working and covered in dirt. Its not fair.). You leaned into him, paying no attention to the dampness of his clothing and how some of it transferred onto yours, and gave him a kiss, paying even less attention to the sweat above his upper lip. You leaned into him during dinner - the first time he hadn’t showered beforehand since knowing you -, pressing into him as close as possible while eating and interlocked your leg with his under the table.

But the best part was when you pulled him into the shower when the day’s work was done and scrubbed him clean, smiling into his mouth as you did.

Bo Sinclair:

Showers are one of the few places where Bo can be soft with you. In public, he maintains a carefully crafted visage of a stereotypical tough guy. Toxically masculine. Overly rough. Dominating. Borderline violent in every twitch of his brow and flex of his fingers. Bo would rather chew his own tongue off than admit he was anything softer than a rock.

But you knew better.

In private, away from the prying eyes of the living and the dead, he becomes pliable, veneer slipping away from where it’s settled in the tension in his shoulders and clench of his jaw. His touch loosens into a grip less desperate. He breathes deeper.

He folds into you like clay, allowing you to guide him. He relaxes in your arms and allows everything to drift away. Nothing can get him. Not his victims. Not his responsibilities. Not his mother. Not his trauma.

He is safe.

Showers were a way he could let you know that he was feeling vulnerable, that he needed to get away to break. The shower was a place where no one will follow. In the months following the birth of your relationship, it became a way for him to communicate to you what his needs were.

And you adapted.

So when he barges into the house, huffing and growling with murder in his eyes, and says he needs a shower, you know what he means and what you need to do.

You get in the shower first, going through the motions of washing you hair, and push open the glass door you hear the rustling of his clothes. You let him lean on you, first gripping onto you from behind, and then turning to look into his eyes.

The shower fills the room with steam and in the blur, he will break and you will put him back together.

Vincent Sinclair:

This man has no concept of time. He lives in his basement and gets so wrapped into his projects that the world fades to background noise. He barely takes the time between the wax town and his own art pieces to sleep so taking a shower is very much not a priority for him.

He will if he must. There have been times when a victim gets too close and things end up bloodier than intended. Vincent does not like how blood gets tacky on his skin.

Other than that, he won’t. Its not to be gross, he just has no idea of how much time passes between one shower and the next and he’s rather work in the basement.

He does argue with you about it because of that. After three days, the stank will start to become prominent when you breathe near him. After four days, the stank becomes visible. After the fifth day, you get involved because his smell literally wakes you up from a dead sleep.

You’ve mastered the art of arguing with him though so its not too bad. You go into the basement and tell him he needs a shower. He’ll grunt. You will reiterate that he promised he would take more showers, because he had. He’ll agree that he did but it is not time for a shower. He just took one. You will bring out the calendar you use to mark when he showers - one of your only big fights involved not having proof of when he last showered so you got a calendar and marked it together - and count the number of days between the last mark and the current day.

(You can and will get Bo to confirm what day it is currently. He thinks all of it is stupid but no one asked him)

He will realize that he is wrong, apologize, and shower before its time for bed. You rarely ever join him. Vincent considers showering to be a very private activity and his insecurities about his face and body are something you and him work on every day. He is fine with you seeing him as he is in dim lighting but the bright florescent lights in the bathroom are a different story and you respect him.

(You wonder if the bright lights in the bathroom are part of the reason why he avoids showering but its something you won’t bring up just yet.)

When he comes out, damp and warm and smelling nice, you wrap him up in your arms and hide away in your duvets until the sun comes up and Vincent will whisper thank-yous into your skin.

Thomas Hewitt:

Thomas was used to not bathing as often as he’d want. Between the hot Texas sun, the heavy-duty (and often bloody) work he did on a daily basis, and the lack of hours in the day, taking a shower was on the low end of his priorities list. He’d rather catch 20 minutes more of sleep.

After your relationship got more physical, he made showering a larger priority for the simple fact that he likes to wipe your body down. Especially after sex. He likes to hold you so you are facing the water and he can press his entire body against your back. Grabbing the body wash – something you introduced to him-, he’ll lather it up and run it over your body until the only thing left on your flesh are his marks.

You are so small compared to him. He loves to watch how his hands encompass and grip your flesh, pressing into the proof of your love for him, the trust you give him.

“Oooo,” you breathe, leaning back even further into the wall of man behind you. Thomas’s hands dipped lower, fanning out over your thighs and you could feel the beginnings of renewed arousal. He purposely avoided your cunt and you knew he was unsure if you were feeling sore. “That’s feels nice, lovely.”

A deep grunt. He’d never admit it but he loved when you called him lovely. There was something precious in the way you cooed the word at him that caused his knees to buckle. His hands moved up to your waist, pressing and searching. He grabbed your breasts and your returning whimper was lost in the sound of the spray. You could feel him at the small of your back, hot and heavy but he made no move to buck into you.

He could, if he was inclined. He could lift you up and fit you on him with ease, forcing his way into your body like a sword in a sheath. You knew it. He knew it.

But he wouldn’t.

Not without your consent.

Not without your permission.

Gripping one of his hands in your significantly smaller ones, you lowered it back down, cooing at the stretch of his fingers dipping inside of you and gave him all the permission he needed.

~~~~

End

~~~~

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shortjeb-probs · 4 years ago

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Fic Revival

After being dead for nearly five years, my fic Payback is making a comeback!

Important to note: Chapters 1- 68 were written by a 15-16 year old and chapters 69+ are being written by a 21-22 year old. Stylistically, the writing will be different, but I’ve tried to make sure that it’s enjoyable regardless.

Check out chapter 1 below!

Chapter 1: Then

It would have been fitting if the dirt beneath your short fingernails was oozing mud. It would have been fitting if the dust caked in the seams of your clothing dripped off the fabric into puddles. Anything would have suited this moment better than the cherry pink rays that mingled with fantastic gold, last vestiges of the beautiful day that had taken place, showering into a brilliant sunset. Anything dark or dreary or gross would have been better than what was.

It would have matched Sans' expression if it was as disgusting outside as you felt inside. Your teeth chattered lightly, and despite knowing that you should have maintained a calm face as you looked up at the storm that was Sans, you couldn't help it. Your brows were furrowed and your lips were tightly twisted in a vicious scowl, your fists were grabbing at the ground and tearing up clumps, and you were poised to spring at the skeleton.

Your belongings lay littered against the dead grass. At least that was fitting, you thought angrily. And maybe you were, too. You were an angry lightning bolt, threatening to pierce back up to the heavens and charge at the storm that had thrust your anger into you. The front of your shoes dug into the ground slightly, grass parting at your force as your toes fought to find a better hold.

He said nothing. For once, that lazy stupid grin you had stupidly fallen for because you were stupid--! You breathed heavily, calm, you told yourself, stay calm. For once, that stupid smile was wiped clean off of his visage, finally. Your heart twanged as you thought that it had taken much too long, you knew it wasn't true. You loved his smile, you loved him.

You couldn't convince yourself otherwise even if you tried. And oh, were you trying.

Scarlet paint smeared on the sky from invisible brush bristles, and your calves began to burn from the position you still held. You lifted your hands from the defensive hold they had taken by your sides, undoing the fists your fists quickly, not stopping to cringe as warmed earth fell from your fingers. Your teeth flashed briefly as a snarl a dog would be proud of curled onto your lips, and you sucked chilly air through the small gap in between the top and bottom sets of teeth. A shiver worked its way to your spine as the cold froze your teeth, but you bit it back.

He stared at you from his place in the doorway, right hand just itching to slam the door it held. You could see his fingers twitching from the desire to shut you out one final time. You wondered how Papyrus, who was away at Napstablook's, would react to see the two of you this way. You, in your near beastly pose, and Sans who stood with his left eye whipping through green, yellow, and blue rapidly. Had he ever seen such a sight, the one that was currently your, now, ex boyfriend? You sure hadn't.

Sans leaned forward suddenly, daring you to so much as move, and you did. You rose to a standing position, towering over the various bags and boxes easily. An army of stuff that you could use at your disposal, should you feel like getting violent. You did, but you held both your tongue and your fury. Your key chain sat heavily in your left pocket, and you dug them out when you remembered they were there.

Sans did not watch curiously, instead his arm, the left, reaching towards you. He presented his hand, palm skywards, and you continued to shuffle through the variety of keys until you slid your home key out of the loop. You didn't even look at him as you tossed it, hearing it clang against his bones as he caught it, and then against the wall after he threw it. You shoved your keys back in your pocket, fingers lingering for a second too long before you threw your hand back down to your side.

You lowered yourself and began to pile box onto box, a makeshift wall to block him from your sights that doubled as a means of carrying your items. You tested the weight, it was light enough that you could carry it to your car with ease, and so you began to do just that. The height of the boxes stopped so that the top one could rest against your forehead, and you maneuvered the familiar grasses like the expert you were. This was your home, you'd be damned if you didn't know it well.

A slur of curses sullied your mouth, waiting eagerly to pour out. You had denied them for so long, but you figured it wouldn't hurt now. You cursed the skies that would not mirror neither your anger nor your sorrow, you cursed fate for having teased you with a happy eternity only to cut it short, you cursed everything from ocean to ocean, and finally, you cursed Sans. "Fucking skeleton," You exhaled, face growing haggard as you refused to let his name slip from your lips again. Never again. "Stupid fucking skeleton. Dumb shit." You'd like to think you were better than this, but if the weather would not cooperate, your growls would have to make do with creating the thunderous atmosphere he had created.

Balancing the stack on one of your arms, you plucked out your keys again and shuffled through them, jamming the correct one into the slot without missing a beat. You swung the door open, narrowly missing the metal as it scraped by, and your fingers thunked harshly against the button that unlocked all of the doors but the trunk. You sidestepped to the right until you were directly in front of the door to the back seats. You swung that open, too, pressure screeching against the door as it shook from your power. You felt the glower of that damned skeleton on your back.

You began to pile the boxes into the car, cursing again when you saw that not all of your belongings would fit. Like hell you were coming back here again. You shoved them in haphazardly, fitting boxes in where boxes would fit before turning on your heels and marching back to the front yard. You had at least two more trips worth of stuff to grab, it would have been one if someone would help, he wanted to see you out as fast as he could anyway, but that damned lazy skeleton--! False malice that masked a deep hurt shadowed over your gaze, not that you trained it on Sans.

You were shaking now, but not with cold, exhaustion, or anger. Though it didn't show in anything but the slight tremors, the cutting sadness was searing through you like a wicked flame that you so heartily wished to douse. You picked up the latest stack, this one heavier than the first by a great deal, but not enough to cause you to falter in your movements as you guided back to your car. You threw the boxes in once more. It took a few tries, but you finally pushed the car door shut, and it stayed that way when you moved away from it. You pressed the still open driver's side door, fingers fumbling for the button that would unlock the trunk. You still had a few boxes from this last trip that would not fit in the back seats, no matter how hard you tried.

You walked quickly back over, picking the objects left by the side of your car up swiftly and traveled to the back of your car, eyes scanning over it as it went. It was a dusty old van you had snagged from the side of the road for a few hundred dollars, a good deal for a decent car, a few years back. You sneered at the color, an enthralling cobalt that mirrored the magic currently flowing from Sans' eye. You'd wanted to get it repainted, anyway.

You shoved the remaining boxes in the trunk and went back for the last of your belongings. As you padded across the grass, you couldn't help but ask yourself why Sans was still waiting on the front porch, his figure present in your peripherals. It would be easier for the both of you if he would just shut that door, you didn't care if it was closed to you forever. Your heart twinged, alright, maybe you did care.

You forced anger into your heart like air into your lungs, gulping it down in slow steady breaths. It simmered in your stomach, boiling enough to threaten the contents of your dinner, but would go no further than that. The tendrils of what you wanted to be hatred snaked up and around towards your heart, but stopped well before they could reach their destination. You cursed your inability to dislike Sans, too.

You slid the few bags over your shoulders and gathered up the last few boxes, a monumentally lighter load than your last, even lighter than the first, and stood. You made no hesitation to meet eyes with your former lover, willing there to be some flicker of doubt, some hesitation that you pretended to lack. Not even the slightest flicker crossed into his burning eye. With that, you turned away from him, exiting the yard for what would likely be the last time for a long time.

You crossed the distance to your car with ease, your shaking having stopped when you looked into his heated gaze that final time. A chilling breeze brushed against your cheek, stinging your skin harshly. That was fitting, you thought almost merrily. The wind only continued to pick up, swirling around you and tickling your fuzz-covered scalp. You dropped the boxes in and slid the bags beside them, huffing slightly as you reached up, grabbed onto cold metal, and slammed your arms down. You ran cold fingers through what little hair you had, promising yourself a hair cut as soon as you could get one, and began to walk towards the only open door.

Your cracked lips began to leak crimson fluids as your teeth tore at the skin carelessly. The inside of your cheeks had been snagged raw, suffering a similar treatment that your bottom lip was currently facing, and you inhaled deeply. The door shut firmly after you had seated yourself, your seat belt going ignored for now. You would get to it later, the very next stoplight or stop sign, you promised, but for right now, you were getting out of here.

The hood of your car was towards the street, so you didn't need to adjust the rear view mirror or look behind you. You started the ignition, turning the heat on once the car was started, and began to drive. You peeled out of the driveway quick enough to rattle your bones, but not so much so that you appeared desperate in your want to leave. You blinked away a sudden wetness as you swerved onto the streets, the distance between your former home and you increasing with every second. You noticed that Sans still had not backed away from the door, its openness likely inviting the harrowing winds that had previously tugged at your clothes.

The sun dipped further beneath the horizon, wisps of dark blue graying the edges furthest away from its fleeting light. You didn't know where to go now. You hadn't woken up and expected to have all of your stuff packed and placed on your lawn, solely their lawn now, you hadn't been expecting anything like what had happened! Your shoulders slumped as you rounded the corner, the bone brothers' home disappearing from view with a sense of finality. When you came home from work earlier, that was what was waiting for you. Brown boxes and soured moods.

The angry flame that had coursed through your veins, bubbled your stomach, and stopped before reaching your heart died out as you continued driving. You wondered if it would ever return again, likely when you saw Sans next, which at the moment, you hoped would be never. The road jostled your car slightly with every odd bump, and after a few minutes, you arrived to a stoplight. You turned your body quickly, buckling yourself in before dwelling on your current situation.

You wouldn't be able to turn to Papyrus, who had quickly become one of your best friends, aside from maybe Toriel. Sans had surpassed the 'Best Friend' status that so little people had just been able to make it to. He had become the wall you would lean against when you needed it, the clock that would offer as much time as you needed, the source of childish joy and wild laughter, the cause of playfully disappointed groans whenever he would utter those awful jokes, the most comfortable person you had ever been with, the being that presented more light than the sun, of which had drooped beyond the horizon and left an inky blue tone in the sky, for the two and a half years you two had been together. The..

You stopped yourself, wounds already clawing deeper within you. The soft trembles had returned, but they were no longer quiet. You shook violently, now, pitiful sniffles you could not push back any longer pairing alongside those awful shakes. You glared into the road, willing holes to burn through the asphalt. That didn't happen, but the light did turn green, giving you something else to focus on.

You juggled your thoughts, staying focused on the road the whole while, before settling. If you could turn to neither Papyrus, for he was busy and would likely side with his brother anyway regardless of what you could say or do, nor Toriel, who had likely heard of Sans' temper and would favor with the friend she had made long before you ever stepped into her life, you would turn to the next person. You idly wondered if Toriel knew what you did not, the source of Sans' immense rage. You pushed the thought back.

You pulled over near an empty street vendor cart, digging in your right pocket for your phone. Like most of your belongings, it was old and outdated, but again similar to your items, it worked, and it worked well. You dialed the familiar number without a thought, pressing the phone to your ear as the fingers of your left hand tapped on the steering wheel lightly. A few seconds later, and a dull click sounded through your speakers. Your voice, rough with disuse and grief, surprised you with the confidence warped within the sound, "Hey, Mettaton,"

Link to Ch2: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5700913/chapters/13135003#workskin

#dead fic #dead fic revival #sans x reader #reader is trans male #reader is trans #reader has not started hormone therapy #reader insert #undertale x reader #undertale fanfiction #angst #fluff #bara sans #reader identifies as male

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