#its raining so hard I hope it stops by the time I have to head out
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Alone in the EPA office, really old building, its storming, I have the lights turned down, I was talking about ghosts with my coworkers earlier, and at some point today I heard screaming down the hall.
View outside my window rn
#wrenfea.exe#partially described#its raining so hard I hope it stops by the time I have to head out#I hate storms#and when I leave I have to go through the basement tunnel bc its more accessible for my chair
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Chasing Cars | ch 3 (jjk)
âsummary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?
âpairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader
ârating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)
âgenre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff
âwarnings: a power outage, Jungkook being a menace as per always, getting stood up for Valentine's Day, falling on a patch of ice, alcohol, curses, peach, OC gets a little jealous, explicit content: teasing?, dom!Jungkook, big dick!Jungkook, sex toy (vibrator), male and female masturbation, praising, cum play (don't be stupid), fingering
âword count: 13.2k
âa/n: this is like one of my fav chapters in this whole series, and also the one inspired by jungkook's iconic live with the candle and the white dress shirt and oof :') hope you enjoy it!! Thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing, you guys are the best <3
âseries masterpost
âadd yourself to the taglist here!
âââââ
If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol
âââââ
Thursday, February 14thÂ
Sometimes, the universe aligns to create such a shitty day that you think your life is a joke. A cruel joke, and youâre just the sitcom character that people use to make themselves feel better.
Today has been one of those days. You woke up late, somehow not hearing your alarm, and got to your midterm so late you didnât have time to finish. At least you were confident in the answers that you did write down, so you think thereâs a chance youâll still pass.Â
Then, you forgot your student ID, and the lady at the cafeteria refused to let you eat even though sheâs seen you almost every day of the semester so far. Nabi offered you some of her salad, but you felt bad and barely ate.
Then the rain started â freezing rain at that â and you had to run to the other building for your genetics class, ending with your hair half frozen and the knowledge that youâre going to get sick by tomorrow.
Genetics class in and of itself is fine. Your stomach gurgling all through the class isnât, and youâve noticed people looking at you where youâre sitting, every time your stomach thinks itâs a whale and it needs to sing to its fellow mates.
During break, someone offers you a protein bar, and you take it with cheeks burning, thanking them profusely. Though you hate the taste of protein bars, and you struggle to finish it without puking on the desk. You power through, and then the class resumes, and you try to focus. Itâs hard, and when you receive a text from Hoseok, you stop pretending that youâre listening.
[2:47 pm] Hobi: have u seen the weather outside? [2:47 pm] You: yeah itâs trash. I think Iâm still half frozen [2:49 pm] Hobi: donât have power at my place anymore [2:50 pm] Hobi: and it looks dangerous to drive
You know exactly whatâs coming. It shouldnât even come as a surprise â you donât know why you agreed to meet up on Valentineâs Day. Yet, youâve been looking forward to it all day, perhaps because itâs been so shit even hanging out with Hoseok on this day of celebration of love seemed better.
[2:50 pm] Hobi: any chance I can get a raincheck?
You want to bash your head on the desk, and of course, the professor chooses this exact moment to call you out for being on your phone. You flush a deep red, mumbling an apology as you put your phone face down on the desk. Everyoneâs looking at you, and from where youâre sitting at the back of the class you can see that half the people arenât even taking notes. You think theyâre full of shit for glaring at you, but you canât help the way you turn crimson, and Nabi stifles a laugh next to you.
âShut up,â you whisper through gritted teeth, elbowing her in the ribs.Â
She shrugs innocently, and then her eyes slide back to the professor as he resumes the class. Not wanting to risk it, you focus too, and it seems the shame is what you need to finally concentrate because you find yourself typing away on the computer, describing the pictures in the PowerPoint slides so you can understand them later.
The lights go out five minutes before the end of the class. The projector shuts down in time, a clear indication that the college has run out of power too â something that rarely ever happens unless itâs the end of the world outside.
Thereâs a series of gasps, and the professor looks so jaded at the front of the class that you wouldnât be surprised if heâs made of the actual precious stone. He looks towards the door, where you can see that the light has also gone out in the hallway.
Without even a glance at the class, he slams his laptop shut, heaving out a sigh.
âClass dismissed for today, we donât have enough time left to wait for the power to come back on.âÂ
It doesnât even take half a second before everyone is starting to put their stuff away, the class suddenly overcome with a cacophony of sounds, and Nabi turns to you.
âWho were you texting during class?â she asks, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
âShut up.â You put your laptop in your bag, chugging the rest of your water bottle before you stuff it next to the laptop. âHobi cancelled on me.â
Of course the whole friend group now knows about you two. You have Hoseok to blame for that, and his incredibly good idea to have sex at a party last week, where Yoongi walked in on the two of you. Youâve never seen Yoongi look more uncomfortable before in your life and, to your surprise, heâs been teased about the situation a lot more than you or Hoseok. Itâs still a relief because you were afraid the friend group would go to shit if people knew, but now it seems itâs only solidified it even more.
âBruh,â Nabi lets out. âWhy?â
You motion to the dead neon lights over your heads. âThe weather. He doesnât have power anymore.â
âShit.â You finish packing your stuff and youâre walking out of the class when she continues, âThatâs wild though, didnât think the freezing rain would hit that bad.â
A girl in front of you turns as if summoned. âTheyâre saying itâs going to be the worst storm of the century.â She points her phone towards you and Nabi, screen first. âLook, tons of trees have already fallen.â
Your eyes widen, because indeed sheâs showing a picture from a group chat, of a tree having fallen on someoneâs poor car. You wince in time with Nabi.
âRIP to whoeverâs car that is,â you answer.
The girl nods, a wistful expression taking over her features. âThat would be my boyfriendâs.â
You donât talk more after that, and she jogs to join her friends closer to the stairs. You take that as an opportunity to finally reply to Hoseok, grabbing your phone out of the pocket of your coat.
[3:59 pm] You: power even went out in college so yeah, np!
Hoseok is quicker to reply than youâve expected, saying that heâd like to meet up some time this weekend if you can. You donât promise him anything, though you donât really have plans as of right now.
Youâve just got a feeling that, if the storm is going to be the storm of the century, you wonât be hanging out for at least a few days. And the moment you step outside, you realize that it might even take more than a few days.
Trees have fallen everywhere. The sidewalk is entirely iced, and just by the time youâve made it to the bus stop in front of the building, youâve seen a car accident, both cars unable to stop at a stop sign. You figure taking the bus would be dangerous right now, and you settle on aiming for the pedestrian trail that leads to a park near your apartment, while Nabi parts to head towards the dorm, where apparently the power is still on. She tells you to let her know if you have power at home, and then you turn to head towards home, fishing your phone out of your pocket.
At least itâs not raining heavily as you walk. Itâs the only positive thing in your day, and you hold onto your phone, sending a text to Taehyung to inform him of the situation.
Youâre two minutes from home when you slip on a slab of ice, and you fall in a puddle of mud that stains your pale pants. You donât even know how there can be mud when everything else is frozen, but of course, you had to fall in it. You assess yourself for a second, making sure nothing hurts too bad and then you mutter, âOf fucking course.â
You donât even feel like getting up. If it wasnât for the fact that the mud in which youâre sitting is freezing, you think youâd sit there until you died. You feel drained, and the weight of the day finally hits you head-on, bringing tears to your eyes.
Or maybe itâs just the embarrassment of walking home with your favourite pair of pants ruined. You donât even know anymore; too much has happened in just a few hours for your brain to accept to be working anymore. You angrily blink the tears away, knowing youâll break down the second you step inside your own home.
You can only hope that Jungkook is not going to be there. You hold onto that hope as you get to the building, and when you see the lights are out, the tears win against you. You carefully walk up the stairs â even they are covered in a thick sheet of ice â and surprisingly, you make it to the top unscathed.
You try to unlock the door with shaky fingers, struggling to find the hole through the blurriness of your tears, and you almost consider breaking the door down when it suddenly swings open in front of you.
âPeach?â
Youâre aware that youâve got fat tears rolling down your cheeks. Youâre aware that you probably look a mess â you are a mess â but all you can do is stare at Jungkook.
âIs something wrong?â he asks, voice laced with concern as he steps aside to let you in.
You put your bag down, shrugging as he shuts the door behind him carefully, eyeing you as if youâre a specimen of a rare animal thatâs going to run if he startles it. You refuse to meet his gaze, refuse to speak lest you embarrass yourself with crying even more. All you do is angrily wipe your cheeks with the back of your hand.
âHey,â he says, and he puts a hand on your shoulder. âWhatâs wrong?â
You motion around. âWhatâs wrong?â You scoff, and out of spite, you force down the wave of tears that is threatening to meet the ones youâve just dried on your cheeks. âEverything is fucking wrong.â
You glance at Jungkook, and heâs just watching, eyes widened. He seems startled by your outburst, and you think you see him gulp.
âDo youâŠâ he trails off, glancing at the door. You only then realize that heâs clad in his winter coat, and he was probably on his way out when you arrived. âDo you want to talk about it?â
You shake your head no, hating yourself for the way your bottom lip trembles.Â
His hand is still on your shoulder, and it slowly slides to your arm. âDid you hurt yourself?â he asks.
Heâs only then realized that youâre half-covered in mud.
âI fell on a patch of ice,â you answer.
He makes you turn, assessing the damage. âIf you soak your pants in water, I can get the stain out.â
âThereâs no power.â
He turns you back around, offering you a small smile as he cocks an eyebrow arrogantly. âAstute.â
You want to punch him so bad, but what you do is laugh, which makes you think youâve gone crazy.
âWater still runs, though,â he points out. âIâll take care of it when the power comes back on. Doesnât even need to be warm. You can save whatâs left of the hot water for a shower if you want?â
He says it like a question, and you shrug your shoulders. A new tear rolls on your cheek, and to your surprise, Jungkook dries it with his thumb. He then points to your shoes.
âTake these off. Youâre going to take a shower before the neighbours steal the water.â
âI donâtâŠâ you trail off, as heâs just staring at you as if what you were going to say was going to be the stupidest shit heâs ever heard. As much as you want to hate him right now, the way his hand feels on your arm is making the anxiety lessen, until you realize that itâs going to be okay.
You can head to Ria and Nabiâs dorm right after a quick shower.
âMâkay,â you finally accept. âBut you can go, you donât have to stay.â
He shrugs, and when he lets go of your arm, you almost want to grab his hand and put it back there. âI was just going to charge my phone in my car. It can wait.â
You hold his gaze, feeling swallowed by his big doe eyes. It finishes drying the tears on your waterline, and you take a deep steadying breath. âMâkay,â you repeat.
At that he smirks, nodding his head once. He kicks off his shoes as you carefully take yours off, and then he makes grabby hands at you.
âWhat?â you ask.
âYour coat,â he answers. âIâll put it in the closet for you.â
You slightly frown. âWhy?â
âBecause Iâm trying to be nice?â When you remain silent, he chuckles. âYou think Iâm just going to let my best friendâs sister cry when she gets home?â
The words hurt, even though theyâre just a statement of what you are to him. âYouâre so random.â
He looks somehow offended. âJust give me your coat, peach.â Heâs stern, and you have half a thought to mimic him, but you resist. When you hand him the coat, he offers you a grin. âSee, that wasnât so hard.â
Once again you surprise yourself by laughing, and the grin on his lips softens in a way that makes you warm inside.
âYouâre annoying,â you whine.
He shrugs as he opens the closet. âJust go take a quick shower. Make sure to soak the pants too.â
âYes, mom.â
He chokes on a snort. âOof, no, donât call me mom.â
You stifle a laugh, but a smile tugs at the corner of your lips. He faces you again, and you startle as he pinches your cheek. You push him off, as all he does is offer you a wide grin that makes dimples appear on his cheeks.
Youâve never really seen those dimples before, not while heâs smiling. You have to force yourself to look away, and as entrancing as they are, you manage to have your gaze drop to a random spot on the floor. âAlright then, Iâll grab my stuff. You can charge your phone while Iâm in the shower.â
âAll good, Iâm at 65%,â he says. âI just checked online, and the power outage will likely last through the night so⊠figured I didnât have anything better to do.â
You purse your lips. âOh.â
Thereâs an awkward silence before he motions to the bathroom. âArenât you going?â
Your cheeks burn, and you nod once before heading towards your room as he snorts behind you, evidently laughing at you. You ignore him, quickly grabbing a change of clothes and bringing them to the bathroom. Jungkookâs moved to the couch, and to your surprise you see him with a book in hand.
âYou read?â
The question is out before you realize, and Jungkookâs head snaps in your direction.
âItâs for a class.â
You nod once. âRight.â You then scrape your throat, glance at the bathroom and then settle your eyes on him again. âIâll be right back.â
He smiles at you, and itâs the last thing you see before you walk into the bathroom, softly shutting the door behind you. Luckily enough, itâs still light enough outside for you to be able to shower without being in the dark, and as Jungkook advertised, thereâs still hot water.
You take the fastest shower of your life, not wanting to risk running out of hot water, and then you put your dirty pants in the sink, soaking them in cold water. You put your clean clothes on â nothing impressive, just a pair of black sweatpants with a white t-shirt. You take one look at yourself in the mirror â you look like youâve gone through hell, but at least youâre refreshed.Â
With a steadying breath, you walk out of the bathroom, and your eyes immediately find Jungkook where heâs still sitting on the couch, looking like he hasnât moved an inch. He glances at you before resuming his attention on his book. You feel awkward, yet you still walk in his direction because, frankly, what else is there for you to do when thereâs no power?
âWhatâs the book about?â you enquire.
He raises it for you to see as you sit next to him. He moves too fast, and all you can see is something about trickle-down economy before the book is back in his lap.
âLooks boring.â
He laughs. âIt is. Plus, trickle-down economics is bullshit.â
You nod wisely, even though your knowledge in the economy and business field is little to zero. All you know is that trickle-down economics is what rich people use to defend their actions, which immediately makes it so you donât trust it one bit.
Eat the rich and all that.
âRight,â you let out.
Jungkook throws you a glance. âFeeling better?â
You donât know how to answer. Because, yes, you feel somehow better now that you are clean and warmed from the shower, but youâre still very aware that the power is out, youâve likely failed a midterm, and your date was cancelled.
âSort of,â you answer, shrugging your shoulders. âToday was just a shitshow.âÂ
He says nothing, but his big eyes on you entice you to open up to him, making you feel more at ease than youâve ever been around him.
Maybe because you just need someone to vent to after all.
âLike⊠I woke up late this morning,â you tell him. âArrived so late to my midterm that I couldnât finish. Then realized that I forgot my wallet here and couldnât eat lunch. Got stood up for a date tonight, and now no power here? This day has been the worst.â
You sit back on the couch after youâve finished your tirade, and Jungkook just looks at you curiously. You donât register youâve called hanging out with Hoseok a date until Jungkook says, âYou had a Valentineâs Day date?â
You shut your eyes, pinch the bridge of your nose and exhale loudly. âSort of. Not really a date.â
âHow can it not really be a date?â
You entirely miss the teasing in his voice, mostly because youâre appalled at yourself for the slipping. âItâs just⊠my friend with benefits, so not a date.â
âDamn, peach,â he says, and he bursts out laughing. You crack an eye open, your heart feeling like itâs been stabbed as Jungkook grins at you. âDidnât think you were one to have a friend with benefits.â
You narrow your eyes at him. âWhy?â
âI donât know.â He shrugs, and his gaze slides away from you as his brows furrow slightly. âYouâre Taeâs sister, and the way he talks about you I just⊠I donât know.â
Annoyance creeps into you as you cock an eyebrow. âYou shouldnât listen to what Taehyung says about me. He still thinks Iâm twelve.â
Jungkook snorts, and to your surprise, it makes you smile, right as he glances at you.Â
âAre you not?â
âYah!â You punch him in the shoulder, and he laughs as he massages the spot. âIâll have you know Iâm an adult.â
His features turn somber, and he plays with his piercing for a time before he answers. âIâm starting to realize it, trust me.â
In the somberness of his eyes, a spark ignites, and you feel as if electricity is running on every inch of your body. You wish it would run into the building instead, bringing the power back on but unfortunately, youâre the only victim, and all you can do is hold his gaze.
The moment stretches until you grow uncomfortable, and your eyes slide to the Switch under the TV, as if itâll find solace there.
âAnyway,â you say, scraping your throat. âApparently thereâs still power at the dorms so I think Iâll head over there.â
âYouâll abandon me?â he says, faking offence. âRight when I offered to take care of your pants? The nerves on you.â
You roll your eyes as the awkwardness fades to be replaced by the annoyance Jungkook usually brings out of you. âYouâre a big boy, you donât need me.â
âYou sure you want to walk all the way there though? What if you fall again?â
You push him as he smiles wickedly, satisfied that heâs annoyed you. âI hate you.â
âYou know what you hate even more than me?â
Your brow creases in confusion. âWhat?â
He shrugs his shoulders, a smirk growing on his lips. âYouâll have to stay for me to answer.â
You sigh deeply, folding your arms on your chest. You gauge him, watch as his smirk only widens while you ponder staying here. And you donât even know why youâre considering it in the first place. Thereâs just something about being able to talk to Jungkook like this, about being comfortable next to him that makes you want to stay.
âName a single reason why I should stay,â you finally say.
His smirk turns victorious. âIâll cook something for you.â
âThe power is out,â you feel the need to remind him.Â
He throws you a no-bullshit look. âReally, peach, you need to find a bit of creativity in your life.â
âWhat?â
âThe stove doesnât run on electricity, it runs on gas.â
You look up at the ceiling. âHow was I supposed to know that, I barely ever cook.â
âI cook!â he bursts, waving the book around. You didnât realize he was still holding it, and you laugh as the pages flutter around. âAnd you usually steal my food, so just let me make something for you tonight.â
You purse your lips, meeting his gaze as he looks at you, faking annoyance. âWhat do you want to cook?â
âI have chicken that I need to cook tonight if I donât want it to go bad,â he says. âI can make noodles with it.â
It takes you all but two seconds before you realize that thereâs no way youâre going to leave when Jungkook is suggesting to cook for you. âAlright.â
âYeah?â You nod, and Jungkook beams. âYou wonât regret it.â
You laugh, slightly shaking your head as he puts the book away and gets up. He offers you his hand, the one with the tattoos on the back of it, and you furrow your brows. âWhat?â
âGo get changed,â he says, hand still extended between you. âIâll give you a Valentineâs Day date, but youâre going to have to play the part too.â
Something stops in your chest â your heart, most likely â and youâre hit with the thought that this is a bad idea. That whatever Jungkook means by that is going to be the mistake of the century, yet you still find yourself accepting his extended hand.
He pulls you to your feet, and he doesnât let go of your hand for a moment, big doe eyes widening slightly as he looks at you.
âYouâŠâ you trail off, scraping your throat as you look away from his eyes.
Itâs all you can do not to get lost in his gaze.Â
âI?â he presses, voice low.
âYou should dress up too,â you mumble, cheeks burning. âSo Iâm not alone.â
He lets go of your hand, and your fingers twitch as it falls to your side. When his index finds your chin, you think your blood stops in your veins. He makes you tilt your head back, enough so that youâre forced to meet his gaze.
âI will.â His voice is grave, and you donât miss the way his eyes dart to your lips once as they part. âIâm going to make this worth it. You deserve it after such a shit day, donât you?â
You gulp. âYeah?â
He pats your cheek. âYeah, you do.â
And then heâs walking away. Youâre left standing there, heart racing in your chest, feeling so warm you think youâre about to catch fire. You watch him disappear into his room, and itâs only when heâs out of sight that you manage to move, making your way to your own room.
You shut the door behind you, resting against it as you take deep breaths to calm down. Youâre not sure if itâs doing you any good, because this is Jungkook. Jungkook, with his tattoo sleeve and piercings, your older brotherâs best friend. Your roommate, the man thatâs been playing with you for weeks, for months, like youâre just some playdough. You think heâs doing it on purpose. He has to â heâs trying to make your life miserable because youâre Taehyungâs sister. You donât see what else it could be. Because why the fuck would Jungkook act like this with you?
Youâre not stupid enough to believe it isnât your fault. Because you were there the night of The Incident, and you reckon things have changed with Jungkook since that night.Â
You take a deep, steadying breath before pushing up from the door. No matter what it is that is making Jungkook act like this, youâre still curious to see what heâs preparing for you. Spending time with him like this, with no power and nothing else to do than talkâŠ
Maybe itâs going to help you understand whatâs happening in that thick skull of his. So you search for something to wear, something warm since the heating is also down. You settle on brown dress pants that you know make your ass look amazing, and you pair them with a pale beige wool turtleneck. You tuck the shirt in your pants, putting a belt on to make sure it stays in place, and then you take a good look at yourself in your standing mirror. Satisfied with your outfit, you make to move out of your room, but you stop with your hand halfway to the knob.
You can hear Jungkook humming in his room, a soft melody thatâs making you think heâs taking a long time in there. Is he actually dressing up? It makes something terribly warm and soft settle in your chest, and you turn back around, grab your makeup pouch and head to your desk.
If this is a date, or whatever it is that Jungkook considers dates to be, you want to look good for it. So you put a little bit of makeup on, trusting your instinct to make it look great even though the light of your small mirror doesnât turn on since thereâs still no power. You hear Jungkook get out of his room before youâre done, and you hope he doesnât decide to come here.
You doubt he would, but you somehow feel awkward as youâre getting ready. Because heâs your older brotherâs best friend, because heâs a college fuckboy, because heâs been making you feel too many things lately â most of them you repress as if your life depends on it. And you think, your life does depend on it. Because nothing can happen between you and Jungkook; you wouldnât do that to Taehyung. And mostly, you wouldnât do that to Jungkook, because you know Taehyung would hate him if something did happen.
You sigh. It comes out shakily, a clear indication that youâre growing anxious, and you almost want to laugh at yourself. You want to tell yourself to get a grip, to just play along for things are bound to go back to normality when the power comes back.Â
You only stop feeling anxious when Taehyung texts you, your phone lighting up where youâve put it down on your desk.
[5:02 pm] brötherđœ: jk texted me the same thing! Glad u wonât be alone tonight [5:02 pm] You: heâs gonna cook dinner [5:03 pm] brötherđœ: lmao, jk doesnât cook for girls, feel lucky
With that you realize that, indeed, you should feel lucky. Because Jungkook can be a friend, if not anything else. Itâs reassuring, and you finish getting ready feeling lighter than youâve felt all day, as if the hell that today was is all forgotten.Â
You spray some perfume on the inside of your wrists, dabbing it on your neck before you finally declare yourself ready to head out of your room. You hope Jungkook wonât make fun of you â heâd be the kind of guy to make fun of you for this, you just know it â and you make your way to the kitchen, where you can hear him busying himself.
Heâs brought his portable speaker out of his room. The one that also has a projector in it, and it shines northern lights on the walls and on the ceiling of the kitchen, giving it a cozy atmosphere. No music is playing as of right now, yet Jungkook is still humming, voice low yet melodious.
You rarely hear him sing, but anytime you do, you feel like your ears are blessed by an angel.
He reappears from where he was hidden in the fridge, and his mouth falls open as he catches sight of you.Â
Heâs wearing a white dress shirt. You think itâs made of linen â it doesnât look particularly fancy. Yet the way heâs rolled it on his forearms is weirdly attractive, even though heâs only wearing grey sweatpants with it. Itâs a look, a look you think only he can pull off. Heâs taken the time to style his hair back, and heâs put on earrings youâve only seen him wear a couple of times during parties.
He eyes you up and down, his doe eyes crinkling in appreciation. âYou look good, peach.â
The compliment makes you blush, and you offer him a small smile. He echoes it right away, and he holds up a bottle of rosé that you bought two months ago and forgot all about since then.
âWine?â you let out as you stop in front of him. You feel awkward because, obviously, itâs wine, but you still hold his gaze as he nods.
âItâs yours butâŠâ He shrugs, glancing at the label. âI figured itâd work well with the chicken.â
You nod once. âSure, we can drink it.â
It makes him happy. You can see it in the way he beams, and then he puts it down on the counter with the rest of the ingredients. When he moves, you catch a whiff of his cologne, and you feel your cheeks burn again. You glance outside â the rain has stopped, but grey clouds are still looming in the sky as the world slowly darkens. You wonder if theyâll go away some time tonight â without the light pollution, you reckon youâd be able to stargaze.
You end up helping Jungkook with the cooking, chopping some vegetables as he takes care of the meat. Youâre not particularly hungry, so you take your time, talking about everything and nothing. Jungkook is good at this, you realize. Heâs good at changing your mind, at making sure it doesnât wander back to your midterm and to the rest of your shitty day. He makes you laugh, cracking stupid jokes whenever you do something, smirking at you when you roll your eyes.
Being with him like this also makes you understand why heâs Taehyungâs friend. He feels more natural this way, less fuckboy-ish, and itâs a side of him youâve never really seen before.
You sit at the kitchen table, sharing a glass of the rosĂ© wine while the food simmers on the stove. Jungkookâs put on an indie music playlist before you started cooking â something you teased him about. Who knew Jeon Jungkook likes indie music?
âHow was Tae before college?â Jungkook asks all of a sudden when thereâs a lull in the conversation. âHe barely talks about high school.â
You know the exact reason why, and her name is Youna. Taehyungâs ex, his high school sweetheart. The one that moved to the other side of the country without ever once looking back.
âHe was an idiot,â you answer, and Jungkook laughs. âNo, seriously. He dated the same girl all through high school. Was convinced he was going to marry her.â
âThat sounds on brand with Tae,â Jungkook says, nodding his head wisely. âHe said that about every girl heâs dated in college, but most of them donât last more than a few weeks.â
You wince. âRemember Hailey from last semester?â
She lasted about three weeks, but she spent most of those at the apartment. It was the only three weeks where Jungkook and you had talked more than just small talk â or his usual teasing. Mostly because you kept complaining about her, and Jungkook kept saying you were cute when you were mad.
Come to think of it, it still was teasing.
âFuck, her voice,â Jungkook lets out, shaking his head. âIâm sure she was faking having such a high voice. I donât know how Taehyung could deal with that.â
Itâs your turn to laugh, and Jungkook smiles as he watches you. âI swear to God, I was about to kick Tae out of the apartment,â you say. âIâm glad she didnât last.â
âAgreed.â
Thereâs another silence as the song switches on Jungkookâs speaker. You take a sip of wine, appreciating the taste, and Jungkook gets up to check the food on the stove. He comes back a moment later, sitting back next to you.
You think heâs closer. He feels closer, and the smell of his cologne fills your nose again.Â
âYou put on some cologne,â you state, and it startles you somehow. You werenât expecting to say that and, clearly, Jungkook wasnât expecting it either.
âYeah.â He looks down at himself as if the cologne is visible on him. âDo you like it?â
You gulp. âYeah, you smell good.â
He smirks, nodding his head. âYou too, peach. I love the vanilla scent.â
You donât know what to do with the compliment. You mutter a thank you before taking a large sip of wine, and Jungkook chuckles before following your lead.
âDo you think Tae and that girl in France will last?â you ask. âHe still hasnât told me who she is.â
Indeed, heâs remained evasive whenever youâve asked. You stalked the people that are with him on the semester abroad, and you think two of the girls could be your brotherâs type, but itâs hard to tell.
âOh,â Jungkook lets out. He grabs his phone, resting his forearms on the table as he opens it. He goes on Instagram, and as it loads, he glances at you. âHeâs told me. Let me show you.â
âWhat!â you exclaim. âHow come he told you and not me?â
Jungkook chuckles. âNo idea. But here.â
He shows you the girlâs profile, and you take his phone as you scroll through the pictures. To your surprise, sheâs not one of the two girls you stalked. She looks shy, barely showing her face in her pictures, most of them being of nature anyway. Come to think of it, you do get a romantic vibe from her feed, and you reckon that would work well with Taehyung.Â
Youâre about to give Jungkook his phone back when it vibrates in your hand, a notification appearing at the top.Â
[6:05 pm] Shelly đŠđ: are u gonna be here soon?
Itâs not your fault that you read it, and your gaze widens as you look up from the device. Jungkook hasnât noticed, and he smiles at you, seemingly expectant.
âSo?â he asks.
âYou had a date tonight?â
His mouth falls open. He looks guilty, eyes widening and taking a sheepish expression. He remains silent, and you can almost see the cogs turning in his head as he thinks of what to answer.
You donât know how to feel. You feel bad for the girl â Shelly â whoâs clearly waiting for Jungkook somewhere. You feel bad that he chose to stay with you because you were upset, but mostly you feel strange that heâs doing all of this for you when thereâs someone waiting for him.Â
The emojis next to her name are enough of an explanation of what she is to Jungkook. Still, you feel increasingly uncomfortable, even more so as he says nothing.
âWhat the fuck, JK?â
âSheâs no one,â he says when you get up. âTrust me, Iâve only hung out with her a couple of times.â
You laugh, and itâs somehow void of joy. âWhy would I care?â
He looks at the glasses of wine, and then at the food on the stove. âI donât know⊠because weâreâŠâ He motions between you, and then at said glasses of wine and food. âI just forgot to tell her I wasnât going to come over.â
Itâs enough of a reminder that Jungkook, for all his current kindness, is a renowned college fuckboy. It reminds you of all the times youâve heard him fuck â was Shelly one of the girls? You feel disgusted, and you walk out of the kitchen, not wanting to look at Jungkook right now.
âPeach,â he says as he follows you out in the darkness of the living room.
The living room is also strangely cold, and you shiver as you turn towards him. âWhat?â
âIâm sorry,â he apologizes. âBut why are you even reacting like this?â
You scoff. âI donât know, Jungkook, you tell me.â
You canât see his expression. But when he takes a step closer to you, you feel the heat of his body radiating in the space between you.
âAre you jealous?â he asks, and you hear the smirk in his voice.
âNo,â you say, and you scoff again. âIâm weirded out.â
âBecause I was going to fuck someone tonight?â Itâs his turn to scoff when you remain silent. âWerenât you going to fuck that dude? Hoseok?â
You donât know how he remembers Hoseokâs name, but heâs got a point. You wet your lips, tongue poking your cheek next. âRight.â
âCome on, peach, just come back in the kitchen,â he says. He grabs your hand, and your breath gets caught in your throat as he escorts you back to the chair where you were sitting. You begrudgingly follow, and when youâre seated he towers over you.
You tilt your head back. âWhat?â
He flicks your nose, and you dodge a second too late. âYouâre cute when youâre jealous.â
âFuck off,â you grumble. âI wasnât jealous I was just weirded out.â
He smiles at you wickedly. âOf course, peach. Of course.â
He sounds so cocky you want to hate him, but all you can do is glare at the table. He pushes your wine glass towards you as he sits back next to you and you wordlessly take it to chug it.
âNow that thatâs done,â he says once youâve put it back on the table, âwhat do you think of Taeâs girl?â
You had all but forgotten why you were holding Jungkookâs phone in the first place. You recall her Instagram to the forefront of your mind, pursing your lips.Â
âShe looks chill,â you answer.
Jungkook pouts. âJust that?â
You shrug. âWhat else am I supposed to say?â
âWell,â Jungkook starts. âFor one I canât believe sheâs Taeâs type. She looks nothing like the girls he dated here. Like just think about Hailey?â
You just nod, because in truth you fully agree with him.Â
âHer Instagram is a vibe though,â Jungkook continues. âTae is big on vibes so⊠maybe it works?â
You nod once more, tilting your head to the side as you really think about it. Because frankly youâd like for Taehyung to find someone that lasts. As much as you know heâs been having fun in college, you know his happiness usually lies in a healthy relationship like the one he had with his ex.Â
âHopefully it does,â you finally say. âTae deserves it.â
Jungkook looks at you, somber expression on his features as he plays with his piercing. It makes your heart cease in your chest, and you busy yourself with refilling the wine glasses as he remains silent.
âHe does,â Jungkook eventually replies. âHe actually really does.â
He sounds so serious you throw him a questioning glance. âYeah?â
He blinks once, as if stepping out of a daze before flashing his infuriating smirk at you again. âDefinitely.â
Thereâs an awkward silence, and you watch as he takes a sip of wine before getting up to check on the food. He deems it ready, and makes two bowls, one for you and one for him. He sets yours in front of you, a proud smile on his lips.
âSmells good,â you compliment him as he sits.
He winks at you. âWait till you taste.â
You have to resist the urge to roll your eyes, and you take a tentative bite, holding his gaze as he expectantly waits.
âShit,â you let out, and you fan your mouth with your hand. âWhy is it so spicy?â
âDonât tell me youâre like your brother and canât stand spicy food,â he complains as you take a long sip of wine.
You put your wine glass back down, wincing as it clinks against the bowl. It fortunately doesnât break, and you push it away from the dish as you chuckle. âWhatâs wrong with not liking spicy food?â
He pouts. âYou guys are so weak.â
You fake-glare at him. âThis shit is so spicy it would wake the dead.â
He snorts, stifling his laugh until you meet his gaze and you burst out laughing at the same time. You think itâs the first time youâve ever heard him guffaw like this. His laugh is contagious, pretty, and youâre convinced it can have healing effects.
Youâre convinced it has healing effects. Indeed, in that instant, you finally really forget about the day, the heaviness it left behind dwindling into nothingness. Itâs replaced with happiness, and chatter with Jungkook becomes easier, more natural.Â
You realize he smiles a lot. You make him laugh a lot too, and whenever he does you feel your heart flutter in your chest. You donât like the feeling, know itâs a mistake, but with the wine, all you can do is try to make him laugh some more, and smile whenever he does.
Youâre on your first beer after finishing the wine â and the overly spicy food, which Jungkook congratulated you profusely for finishing. Youâve talked about every subject thatâs come to your mind so far, none feeling taboo with Jungkook. He eventually tells you about Shelly â she is indeed one of the girls youâve heard him sleep with â and you laugh as he admits heâs really happy he didnât have to see her tonight.
You canât help but snort. âJeon Jungkook, saying no to sex? Iâve heard everything.â
âBruh.â He laughs, shaking his head. âIs your opinion of me so low you think sex is the most important thing to me?â
His eyes are gleaming with mischief in the light of his speaker, which will apparently run out of battery soon. You both donât care, and youâve lit a candle in case it does die. Its sweet fragrance has been chasing the smell of the food away, and itâs been giving the kitchen a homey vibe, even as itâs growing chilly.
âIs it not?â you tease.
He rolls his eyes, shaking his head at you. âNot at all.â
You throw him a no-bullshit look that makes him frown cutely.Â
âHow long can you go without having sex?â you ask him, holding in a laugh.
He narrows his doe eyes at you. âAt least a few weeks.â
âA few weeks? Thatâs nothing!â
âYah,â he bursts, and he laughs as you snort. âPeach, just because I have casual sex doesnât mean I canât stop if I want to.â
âThen stop,â you challenge him.
He cocks an eyebrow. âGive me one reason why I should.â
âTo prove a point?â
His eyes narrow further, but if youâve understood one thing about Jeon Jungkook, itâs that he doesnât step down from a challenge. No, as competitive as he is, youâre pretty sure heâll do it.
âPeach,â he purrs, and it has something warm form in the pit of your stomach. âIs it really about me proving a point, or is it about you being jealous?â
You choke on the sip of beer you were taking, which only makes him laugh. You think itâs a little condescending, but you know he doesnât mean it in a bad way. You still punch him in the shoulder for it, unable to resist.
âWhy would I be jealous?â you ask. âHobi fucks me good.â
Jungkook shuts his eyes and his nose scrunches. He shakes his head once before looking at you again. âI didnât want to know that.â
You smile as if youâve never done anything wrong in your whole life. âYour loss.â
He laughs at that, gaze dropping to the table. Silence grows between you, but itâs comfortable, not like what silence with Hoseok feels like. With Hoseok you feel the need to speak whenever thereâs a lull in the conversation but, right now, youâre content with just sitting back in your chair, sipping on your beer.
To your surprise, Jungkook starts singing over the song, gaze lost in his own glass of beer. His voice settles deep inside of you, resonating in your soul, and you just look at him, awe clouding your mind.
Youâre not sure heâs realized heâs singing. Because when he meets your gaze, he lets out a small laugh. âWhy are you looking at me like this?â
âYou have a beautiful voice,â you whisper.
Itâs hard to tell in the dim light, but youâre pretty sure his cheeks have turned pink. âNah.â
âNo, Iâm serious,â you insist. âI often hear you hum and⊠you sing really well.â
His nose scrunches up again. âStop it.â
âJust take the compliment,â you say, laughing as he plays with his piercing.
You reckon it might be the first time in your life youâve ever seen Jeon Jungkook shy. Because he clearly is, and he looks away from you, running his hand through his hair. It undoes the hairstyle, and a strand falls on his forehead.
Youâve never felt such a visceral need to brush your hand through someoneâs hair before. You manage to resist, busying yourself with holding your beer instead.
âMâkay,â he lets out. âThanks, peach.â
His voice is soft. Softer than the fur of a puppy, and it makes the warm thing in you grow. You gulp, wetting your lips. You donât miss the way his eyes glance at your mouth, and he looks conflicted for half a second before he smirks again.
âWe should have hung out like this before,â he declares.
âYeah?â is all you can answer.
You feel yourself leaning in. You havenât even realized how close youâre sitting to him until youâre leaning in. He does too. He leans forward, tilting his head to the side slightly. He looks surprised, even more so when one of your hands finds the back of his neck, pulling him closer until youâve erased the distance between you.
You both didnât close your eyes. And you both look startled from your lips touching, so much so that you let go of him, straightening away from him. He, on the other hand, hasnât moved, and his gaze goes fully serious before he grabs your arm gently, pulling you closer to him again.
This time, when your mouths meet, you shut your eyes, sighing softly as he kisses you. His piercings press into your lower lip, and as his mouth moves against you, you feel the warm thing inside of you grow so big it bursts. It bursts the same way fireworks do â in an explosion of colours that leaves you waiting for more.
He doesnât disappoint. He tilts his head to the side, deepening the kiss. His hand on your arm moves up until it rests on your shoulder before he decides better and moves it to the side of your neck. His thumb swipes at your jaw, gently, and itâs his turn to sigh in the kiss.
When his tongue darts out of his mouth, you meet it with your own. For a reason unknown, you expect it to make you both grow horny, but the kiss remains soft, slow like you have all of eternity stretched out in front of you.
Even though itâs languid, even though itâs soft, you grow dizzy, head spinning as you taste the beer in Jungkookâs mouth. As his hand moves to the nape of your neck, pulling you closer. You rest one hand on his chest, right above his heart, and you feel the organ racing under your fingers. It makes you grab a handful of fabric as if that will anchor you in the present.
As if that will make you forget that youâre kissing your brotherâs best friend.Â
It does, though you reckon it might be the way Jungkook shifts in his chair, moving so that you can straddle him. And he pulls you in, softly, tugging on your arm until you let go of the shirt and drape it over his shoulder. You sit on him, legs on each side of him, your toes barely even touching the floor. Still, your mouths move in unison, his lips petal soft against yours.Â
Your other arm circles his neck too, until youâre holding him against you. His large hands land on your waist, gently, and his thumbs stroke you, barely even grazing you over the thick fabric of your wool turtleneck.
You donât know how long you kiss. It just seems like you both donât want to stop, like you both know the moment you stop will be a wake-up call, one youâd rather avoid while you get stuck in this bubble of eternity with him. The fireworks keep on shining bright, warm summer sun blooming in your heart as if this, this was always meant to be.
Oxygen is futile when youâre kissing Jeon Jungkook. Not needed, as if he breathes air into your lungs. You think he does, and you sigh once more as your hands get lost in the hair on the back of his head.
The next swipe of his tongue is sharper, carries more intent, and you both startle, finally parting from each other. Though you remain a hairsbreadth away, longing for his lips the moment your mouths arenât connected anymore.
Immobile, you breathe in shakily, and you hear him do it too. Heâs still stroking you, gently, and he wraps his arms around your waist to pull you in. You rest your head on his shoulder, breathing in the clean laundry smell of his shirt, along with the scent of his cologne as you turn your face towards his neck.
The moment stretches some more, as you listen to the music. His grip around you loosens as you press a soft kiss on the mole youâve discovered on his neck. He pushes you back, gently, until your back is against the table. Your gazes meet then, and you wonder if his eyes always shine like this. Do they always hold the light of the universe in them, or did you set fire to his gaze?
He gulps and his mouth falls open. His pupils fill with something you canât quite put your finger on, yet it has clouds taking over the summer sun in your heart until the beating organ goes cold.
âNow youâve had a fake Valentineâs Day kiss,â he murmurs, and the fireworks burst into a void that tastes like ash as you interpret his gaze.
Heâs regretting this. It takes over all of his features, turning his big doe eyes into hearths of remorse. It finishes dousing the sun in your heart until the star goes to sleep, and all thatâs left is the echoes of what once was.
âFake?â is all you manage to let out.
He shuts his eyes, eyelids fluttering close softly. He looks like an angel repenting as he rests his forehead against yours, forcing your own eyes shut from the proximity.
âWe shouldnât be doing this,â he reminds you, reality sinking into his words.Â
You nod against him before pulling away. You try to get up, but his hands on your waist hold you in place.
âLet me go,â you whisper.Â
He does so, albeit reluctantly, arms falling to his sides in a defeated manner. You try to not let yourself think about it too much, try to forget what just happened as you stand up, moving away from him.
Without his body heat you shiver, and you hate yourself for the next words you say.
âWe should share a room tonight. Itâs going to be cold.â
His eyes shoot open as he turns his head towards you, surprise replacing the reality. As if he thought he ruined everything, and you think maybe he did. Maybe he did ruin everything, but you donât even want to be thinking about it right now. You just want to go to sleep, to let the night pass.
Maybe the insanity will go with it.
âAre you sure?â he asks.
You shrug your shoulders. âYou know, Taehyung doesnât have to know everything.â
Jungkook slowly gets up, facing you. You gulp as he pushes a strand of hair behind your ear, hand going to your chin again. He leans in, forcing you to tilt your head back until his lips find yours again.
It lasts a fraction of a second, yet it leaves you scrambling for breath as he takes a step back. He nods as you meet his gaze, an eyebrow cocked in question.
âWe can sleep in your room,â he says. âItâs smaller, itâs going to be easier to keep it warm.â
Right as he finishes his sentence the battery of his speaker dies, and silence surrounds you as the northern lights go to sleep. The light flickers in time with the flame of the candle, and you glance at it.
âSounds good,â you agree, and you wet your lips as you look at him again. His big doe eyes still shine even with just the candlelight, and you wish the world was different. Wish that he wasnât Taeâs friend, that you could just grab him and have him kiss you stupid again. But heâs right. You shouldnât be doing this.
Sharing a bed is only practical. Only because itâs cold, and you have to survive the night. A voice at the very back of your mind tells you that you could head over to the dorms, but you donât want to.
You want to remain here, in this instant outside of the linear timeline of your life.
âMaybe you should get your bed covers?â you suggest. âSo we donât get cold.â
He smiles, so far from his usual smirk and grin that you feel a pang in your chest. âYeah. Yes, thatâs a good idea.â
All of five minutes later, he meets you in your room. Youâve changed into your previous outfit, and heâs swiped his dress shirt for an oversized white Nike t-shirt. Heâs holding his bed cover to his chest, just a white bundle that he offers you as if heâs trying to make peace with you. You motion to your bed, and he nods before walking over to it.
You shut the door behind him, turning to look at him as he debates for a few seconds where to sleep in your bed. He starts by putting his bed cover over yours and then chooses to sit at the foot of the bed, on the side thatâs against the wall.
He then turns to meet your gaze, his profile cast in the flickering light of the candle from the kitchen and the few others youâve lit while waiting for him.
âI think this is the first time Iâve been in this room since Jimin moved out,â he tells you, and his lips stretch into that same soft smile.
You glance around, pursing your lips. âHope it doesnât disappoint.â
âIt doesnât,â he reassures you as he imitates your action, observing your room. âIt feels like you.â
Not knowing whatâs that supposed to mean, you cock an eyebrow. âDoes it?â
âYeah.â
He doesnât explain further, and you shrug it off as you move closer to your bed to sit on the edge. The moment youâre in his vicinity your heart picks up in your chest. Itâs hard to believe that Jeon Jungkook is in your bed right now, and you have to remind yourself that itâs purely because it currently is freezing in your apartment.Â
âShould weâŠâ you trail off, motioning at the bed.
He chuckles, a sweet sound that forces you to gaze at him, eyes widening as your heartbeat picks up even more. âYou want me in your bed so bad, do you?â
You short-circuit, flushing fully red as you struggle to find something witty to reply with. Falling short on words, you end up shrugging your shoulders as you move under the covers, hoping he wonât tease you further.Â
You highly doubt youâd survive him teasing you more.
To your relief, Jungkook ends up chuckling again, but he remains silent as he slides in next to you, keeping a safe distance between the two of you. You lie on your back, while he turns to face you, and you feel the weight of his gaze on your profile.
It makes you turn to look at him, and he offers you the same kind smile.
âShouldnât we blow the candles out?â he asks, and his gaze darts to where youâve left the candles on your desk and night table. âJust to make sure we donât burn the building down.â
âYou want to go to sleep right away?â
You hate yourself for saying that. Indeed, a smirk grows on his lips and he jumps on the occasion to say, âYou want to do something else?â
Something grows hot inside of you, and itâs not that same summer sun he ignited in you earlier. You wet your lips, burning from the inside out as you remind him, âWe shouldnât.â
He chuckles again. âDidnât you say he doesnât need to know?â
You meet his gaze, find the mischief behind his big doe eyes and roll yours. âYouâre annoying.â
Right on cue you shiver. It takes you by surprise, because you feel your insides burning, yet the temperature in your room is low, winning against the warmth.
âAre you cold?â he asks, no traces of mischief left in his eyes. Only concern can be found in his pupils, and you want to hate him for it.
âA little,â you admit. âThe covers are just cold.â
They actually are, as your bodies have yet to warm them. To your surprise, Jungkook sidles closer to you.Â
âI can hold you, if you want. Iâm always too hot.â
You burn a thousand shades of red as you wet your lips. âYou donât have to.â
âCome on, peach, I wonât let you freeze while Iâm right here.â
Yet he doesnât do anything, waits until youâve nodded your head to slide even closer, and he loosely wraps his arm around your waist. His warm breath fans the side of your face, and you do your best to ignore it.
âBetter?â he asks, voice low as he whispers in your ear.
You shut your eyes as electricity courses through your whole body. âYeah.â
âGood.â
Your brain zeroes in on the weight of his arm on you, and when his fingers start tracing random figures on your waist, you let out a small yelp.
âThat tickles,â you tell him.
He does it again, and you try to push him away. Only, Jungkook is far stronger than you, and all you manage to do is end up with your back against him as he holds you firmly to him.
âStop,â you beg, a little breathlessly.
âItâs warming you up, is it not?â
You roll your eyes, though you reckon it is. You donât feel nearly as cold anymore, and you can feel the heat growing in you again. As an attempt to get away from him, you shuffle, and it earns you a breathless chuckle from him.
Just to make sure you didnât imagine the whole thing, you move your hips again. Something twitches in his sweatpants and your mouth falls open.
âYouâreâŠâ
âConsequences of the position,â heâs quick to say. âDonât worry about it.â
You donât know how you possibly can not worry about it. Itâs all your brain can focus on as you shift again, and this time he hisses.
âMaybe you should not do that.â His voice is low, husky, and it sends shivers all over your body.Â
You bite your lips. âWhy?â
He pulls you back in, flush against his chest. His lips ghost on the side of your neck, and you think youâve been struck with lightning. âBecause we canât do anything about it.â
âRight.â
He rests his head on the pillow behind you again, sighing deeply. His hand holds you against him, forcing you to feel every inch of his hard body pressing into you.
Of his hard dick too, where it pushes into your ass.
âMaybe we should go to sleep,â you say, eyes fluttering shut.
He nods. âWe should.â
âI need to blow out the candles.â
His arm loosens around you before he fully lets you go. You prop yourself on an elbow, leaning towards the night table. You blow out the candle youâve left there, and before you can move you feel Jungkookâs palm resting on your hip.
âShit, peach,â he whispers.
You look behind yourself. Your position is explicit, as if youâre angling yourself to fuck yourself on him better. It makes you move your hips, and you see the moment something snaps inside of him.
âWhy donât you lie down next to me before we blow the rest of the candles out?â
Thereâs something stern, authoritative in his voice, and you immediately obey him.Â
âOn your back,â he adds.
You exhale shakily as you turn, not daring to disobey. His hand lands flat on your stomach, and he starts drawing circles around your navel. You inhale sharply as he nudges your cheek with his nose.
âYou look stressed.â
âWhat are you doing?â
You hear the smirk in his voice when he says, âHelping you fall asleep?â
âJungkookâŠâ
âPeach.â
You fall silent as he keeps tracing circles. He sighs next to you, almost longingly and he rests his forehead against your temple. His lips are so close you think you feel their softness on your cheek.
âYouâre driving me crazy,â he whispers. His fingers still on you, under your navel. Some inch or so over the band of your sweatpants and he pushes your shirt up before resuming his actions directly on your skin.
âWe really shouldnâtâŠâ you trail off.
âAre you going to be able to sleep?â he asks.
Itâs rhetorical â he knows just as well as you that you wonât. âNo.â
âIt could help you sleep.â
You donât want to know what the âitâ refers to. âYeah?â
He wets his lips, or maybe he plays with his piercing. But from the proximity, you feel his tongue and you think youâre going to die right then and there.
âDoesnât it help you sleep when you touch yourself?â
Youâre soaking your panties. Youâre burning up, caught on fire by every strike of lightning that Jungkookâs words ignite in you.
âDoes it help you?â you counter-back, remembering when you heard him watching porn two weeks ago.
âIt does. Always sleep soundly after.â
You slowly nod, gulping as his lips close on your jaw, and he sucks gently.Â
Heâs danger in human form. And he knows what heâs doing, he knows how to weave words to cause your undoing. You think heâs already started weeks ago, the night of the Incident.Â
Taehyung is miles away from your thoughts when you say, âYou want to touch me?â
He smirks against you, licks at the spot he just sucked on. âWhy donât you show me how you touch yourself?â
He moves his hand away from your stomach, and you moan softly when he parts your thighs open, resting his palm on the one closest to him as he presses it against his hard dick.
âShit, Jungkook.â
âI know.â
You hate him. You hate him so much you slide your hand between your legs, pressing a circle on your clit.
âGood girl.â
You moan again, yet you stop your ministrations on yourself. âI want to watch you touch yourself too.â
He grunts, grinds his dick in the side of your thigh once more. âYou want to see me come?â
âWant you to finger me with your cum.â
Youâve gone insane. You think thereâs an asylum out there for you, yet Jungkook only chuckles manly against your jaw. âPeach, I wonât touch you tonight.â You whine, and he sucks on your jaw again. âYou can do it yourself.â
Heâs mad. So are you, and you untie the knot of your sweatpants so you can slide your hand in. You moan softly as you find your clit, and you dip two fingers inside of yourself before moving back to the bundle of nerves.
âJerk yourself off,â you tell him. You try to sound commanding, dominant, but your voice is whiny. It earns you a smirk from him as he turns on his back. He takes off his pants and underwear, clearly not as shy as you. You canât see his dick when you look down as heâs still under the covers, and you gulp as you imagine it.
Feeling bold, you push the covers off, needing to see him. And the sight doesnât disappoint. His dick is large. Not excessively long, but the girth makes you understand why heâs got girls screaming whenever he fucks them. His tip is glistening with precum, and he runs his thumb on the slit before spreading the precum on his shaft. Large veins run along the length, from base to top, and youâre struck thinking heâs got the prettiest cock youâve seen in your life.
âLike what you see?â he teases as he strokes his dick once, slowly but with a firm grip.
âDo you want to see me too?â
You really are bold. Far bolder than youâve ever been with anyone before. Maybe because all of tonight Jungkook has put you at ease, and you think thereâs nothing embarrassing about finally living out your fantasy. Especially not when heâs so pliable to it, willing to follow you into the land of insanity.
Scratch that â heâs the one leading to madness.
âItâs only fair if I see you too, no?â he teases with a smirk on his lips as he looks at you with his dark, intense gaze.
âYeah.â
Itâs all you say before you shimmy out of your pants. You donât miss the way his eyes go to your hip, where you have a large dragon tattoo. He curses under his breath. âDidnât know you were tatted.â
âGot it last semester,â you answer with a shaky voice.
He smirks up at you. âHot.â
You gulp, unable to hold his gaze for longer than a few seconds. Shier than him, you keep the panties on. To your surprise, he sits up, runs his hand on the inside of your thigh before he lies down on the other side so he has a view of between your legs. His feet are next to your head, and you angle yourself away from them so that they arenât in your face anymore.
âTouch yourself, peach.â
You nod, and you draw circles on your clit through the fabric of your underwear. Itâs a plain black thong, yet you feel immensely sexy when Jungkookâs doe eyes narrow dangerously as he watches you touching yourself, stroking his dick lazily.
You watch how he touches himself, heart beating out of your chest. Youâre on fire, a wildfire raging through you, and you moan softly as you press harder into you.
âWhy donât you touch yourself under your panties, mmh?â he asks, gaze sliding up to meet yours before he goes back between your legs. âWonât it feel better?â
You canât resist him. You push your panties to the side, holding them with one hand as you go back to your clit. Your thighs instinctively want to close together, but he holds them open.
âPut your fingers in.â
You do. You push two digits in, arching them as you rub at the sweet spot inside of you. He watches, licking his lips as he increases the pace on his dick. You moan right as he grunts, the sound making shivers course up and down your spine.
âWhy donât you use your vibrator instead?â
You entirely stop moving, digits deep inside of you. âHuh?â
âIâve heard you use a vibrator,â he explains. âI want to see you bury it in your tight little pussy.â
Your walls clench around your fingers at his crude words, and it doesnât take any more for you to roll towards your night table so you can grab said vibrator. When youâre settled back in your previous position, you click it on, and the soft buzzing fills your room.
âWait,â Jungkook says, stopping you before youâve pushed your panties aside again. âTake this off.â
He pinches the fabric on your hip, over the tattoo, and all you can do is nod once before you do. He licks his lips, looking at you appreciatively through half-lidded eyes. He looks between your legs, where you just know he can see your juices glistening. Before he says anything else, you put the vibrator on your clit, legs twitching as harsh pleasure courses through you.
To your surprise, he moans, a low sound that has your pussy clench hard. Of course he sees, and heâs quick to say, âPut it in, peach.â
You obey, and you let out a breathy sound as you immediately rub your clit with your other hand. The next few minutes are a world of bliss, of pleasure and of Jungkookâs praises and grunts, entwined with your moans. You think your room is burning hot, or maybe itâs just his eyes on you. His balls are tight as he jerks off harder, faster, eyes never once moving away from the spot between your legs, where your vibrator makes squelching sounds as you push it in and out of you.
âYouâre doing so well,â Jungkook tells you after youâve moaned loudly.Â
Youâre nearing your high, but for some reason, you havenât been able to hit it yet. His words bring you closer, yet it remains just barely out of touch.
âSo fucking well,â he adds, breathlessly, and you notice heâs gripping his dick harder, moving so fast you barely can see his hand, except when it slows on his head with a flick of his wrist. He moans, grunts loudly. âYouâre so hot, Iâm going to come.â
âFuck,â you curse as you watch him push his shirt up, and you catch sight of his defined muscles. They contract as he jerks himself off, and you think youâre drooling.
Maybe because youâre so close to hitting an orgasm that you canât do anything other than drool.
He glances at your face once. You meet his gaze, blood boiling as you see his eyebrows almost touching over his eyes, his mouth slightly agape as he breathes loudly. His eyelids flutter close as his eyebrows bunch up over his eyes even more, and then he moans out something that sounds like your name.
Not âpeachâ. Your full name. It makes your eyes water as you observe him, as you watch how he looks in pain. And then he curses, and your eyes fall to his dick to see white spurts of cum coming out, covering the tattoos on the back of his hand as he keeps moving, never once faltering.
Your walls clench tightly around your vibrator. You think youâre about to come, but the orgasm doesnât want to hit, evading you frustratingly. Your motions grow inconsistent, the push and the pull of the vibrator clearly not enough for you.
As Jungkook comes down from his high, he surveys you once more, features blissed out from coming. He watches you struggle as his hand stops at the base of his dick.
âLook at the mess I made because of you,â he says, and you moan. He tilts his head to the side, pulls at his piercing, and then stops you. Puts his hand over yours between your legs as the vibrator rests deep inside of you. âDo you need help?â
You feel some of his cum as it spills from his hand to yours. You keep rubbing on your clit, meeting his gaze as he awaits your answer. âYes.â
He smirks, and you let him grab your vibrator. He pulls it out of you, watches your juice on it with a hungry look on his features before he hands it to you again. âPut this on your clit.â
You obey, and you sigh in pleasure as he covers two of his fingers with his cum, even picking some up where it fell on his abdomen, decorating his defined abs. You know exactly what heâs going to do before he does, and it makes you curse.
He meets your gaze. âAre you on the pill?â
âIUD.â
He smirks. âGood girl.â
And then he pushes his cum-covered fingers inside of you, arching them to expertly play with your g-spot. You cry out, throwing your head back in pleasure. He fucks you with his digits for a while, and you press your vibrator hard on your clit, as if itâs going to make you come faster.
All it does is make you close your thighs on his wrist. He pulls his fingers out, forces you to spread your legs wide open again, and then circles your entrance with one finger.
âItâs so hot, to watch my cum dripping out of you.â
His digits are in again before you can reply, and he fucks you so well, you crash right into your orgasm, walls spasming around his fingers. You moan, loudly so, and tears prick at your eyes as the waves of your orgasm drown everything in you, making you shake with pleasure.
You ride the high for a long time. Longer than youâve ever had before, and Jungkook whispers filthy praises to you all through it, until you cringe with oversensitivity and turn off the vibrator. You put it down next to you, and Jungkook pushes in and out twice more before he pulls his fingers out of you.
You remain silent for a while, both of you regaining your breath. Once you stop feeling like youâre seconds away from passing out, you prop yourself on your elbows, watching him. Heâs still looking between your legs, and you instinctively close them.
His eyes shoot to your face, and he smirks. âYou have no idea how hot you are with my cum dripping out of you, peach.â
You bite your lip, so hard you think you taste blood. âShit.â
âI know.â
âWhat did we do?â
He shrugs, sucking on his piercing. âWe made sure weâll sleep well, thatâs all.â
You sigh, nodding once before you lie back down on the bed. âShit,â you repeat.
This time he laughs. Itâs a soft sound, something that makes your heart squeeze in your chest. For some reason, it reminds you of the kiss in the kitchen, and butterflies flutter in your stomach.
Even more so as he says, âLet me go get something to clean you up with.â
He pulls his boxers up and then gets up. You miss the way he winces as his feet hit the cold floor, and heâs back with a washcloth before youâve had time to realize he was gone.
âIâm sorry, there was no hot water left.â
âOh,â you let out.
He chuckles as he sits next to you. âDo you want to do it orâŠ?â
You nod, and you grab the washcloth out of his hands before cleaning yourself up. It really is cold, and you wince, one eye shutting as you make sure youâre clean before handing it back to him.
âWhat do you want me to do with this?â he asks, a teasing tone in his voice.
âI donât know?âÂ
He laughs, still grabbing it before throwing it in your hamper. âDid you want to pee before going to bed?â
You nod again. âI should.â
âAre you okay to get there?â
You roll your eyes, finally finding some of your usual defiance. âYou didnât fuck me, Jungkook, I can still use my legs.â
âRight,â he lets out before chuckling. âIâll wait for you here then.â
The trip to the bathroom is the worst youâve ever experienced, with how cold it is in the rest of the apartment. Youâre pleased that your room is warm when you come back, and your heart squeezes in your chest as you see Jungkook lying on his side, looking at you as you enter and shut the door behind you.
He smiles warmly at you. âBetter?â
âWhy is it so cold?â you complain, which makes him laugh that cute, giggly laugh of his. You immediately look away from him, not wanting him to see the blush on your cheeks.
You blow the rest of the candles out, and in the dark, you make your way to your bed. You slide under the covers, sighing at how warm they are now.
âIâm glad you stayed,â Jungkook says as you settle next to him.
You gulp. âWhat?â
âYou said you were going to go to the dorms,â he reminds you, even though that was an eternity ago. âIâm glad you didnât.â
âOh,â you let out. Youâre happy itâs dark because your cheeks burn so much you imagine youâve turned purple. âIâm glad I stayed too.â
He sighs, and you feel the mattress move as he shifts. âDo you want to cuddle?â he asks. âFor warmth.â
You snort, and even though youâre in the dark, you nod.Â
âSure.â
A few seconds later, youâre the small spoon again, and he holds you close to him. He sighs once more, and it ends with a yawn that has you laugh softly.
âTired?â you tease him.
âYeah.â He chuckles, nuzzling his face in your hair. âIâm going to sleep like a rock.â
So are you. Even if you shouldnât, even if you and Jungkook probably committed a big mistake tonight, you still know youâre going to sleep soundly.
Especially as his breathing evens out behind you, interrupted by soft snores here and there. It forms a melody that lulls you to the land of dreams, to a land where you can forget that heâs Taehyungâs best friend, and where you can imagine that heâs yours after all. Itâs idyllic, unreal, yet your sleeping form clings to it like itâs a lifeline in a storm.
You just know that reality is bound to hit again soon.
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Oooooof yep. They really did that hehehe. What did you guys think? Did you like it? Let me know!!
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#chasing cars ch 3#jungkook smut#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#jungkook x you#jungkook x reader#jungkook fic#jungkook#jjk smut#jjk angst#jjk fluff#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk fic#jjk#jeon jungkook#btswritersclub#chasing cars#chasing cars series
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02. sharing a bed series ; skz ; lee know
masterlist.
sharing a bed series part 2/8. because itâs the cheesiest most classic trope and itâs FUN.
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pairing: lee know/reader content info: sexual content. friends2lovers, sharing a bed trope. reader&minho had an argument. reader gets pussy eaten. minho likes to tease.
inspired by the cinematic masterpiece known to the world as lee know log 9, aka that vlog where minho went camping and i never recovered.
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There is a perpetual hum around the campsite, heaters and lamps and cookers buzzing through the night, plus the rain has started coming down harder. Its restless patter over the tarp of the luxury tent is more a nuisance than relaxing.Â
The noise is not why you are still awake.  Your insomnia is the cause of good old-fashioned guilt.Â
You and Minho lost your reservation thanks to some traffic delays and the campsite only had single-bed tents available by the time you arrived. You have been sharing a bed all weekend, but right now you are alone. Minho stormed out an hour ago, claiming he needed a walk to clear his head after your argument.
The argument you started.Â
All weekend, youâve been testing Minhoâs seemingly infallible patience. Minho might joke around sharply, but heâs a secret softy and itâs hard to get him genuinely angry. You could feel yourself being a ridiculous ass but, like everything else of late, it felt out of control. You were like a third party watching your own stupid argument, unable to stop yourself and unable to help him. He was the mature one, leaving to find some space.
Even if it was after calling you ridiculous and uptight.    Â
You didnât cry. You didnât let yourself cry. Maybe you canât control anything else, but you can control that.Â
Now, you just lay in bed and listen to the rain. You canât sleep anyway, so you leave the lights on for Minho.   The rain is coming down pretty hard. You hope he gets back soon.  Much as you donât want to face him, you are worried about him.Â
As if summoned by your thoughts, the tent opens and Minho stomps inside. He is wearing a backwards hat and a hoodie, neither of which did much to protect him from the downpour. You look over your shoulder at him, watching him shake himself out.  The wet hat comes off and hits the ground with a slap, the hoodie following. It leaves him shivering in a t-shirt and shorts, his jaw clenched.Â
He turns abruptly, looking right at you. There is so much intensity in his gaze as he stares at you, slicking his wet hair back.  An unbidden spark of heat bursts inside you.  I want him to look at me like that when he fucks me, you think. The thought makes you whip away to stare at the white tent wall. Your heart pounds.  That pounding intensifies when Minho struts up to bed, crossing the space in a few quick strides. You donât dare turn around, clutching the blankets and staring at the wall.
He turns off the lights. Then you hear him leave, disappearing into the small bathroom joined to your tent.Â
You exhale. It takes a while to come down from the burst of adrenaline, but it has mostly dwindled by the time Minho returns. You hear him moving about in the dark. You lay straight as a board, your back to him.Â
You stare through the dark at nothing. You know you should apologize for earlier but you canât bring yourself to speak.  You just breathe.Â
Minho climbs into the bed. It dips under his weight and you feel a flood of warmth from his company. He has toweled himself dry and changed into sweatpants and a dry t-shirt. He smells fresh and clean, and just a little woodsy. The bed is not very big so he bumps you as he lays down. It makes your heart race again, which just makes you cringe.Â
The rain has slowed. It still patters against the roof of the tent, but gently. Â
The quiet makes the silence between you even more tense. It feels heavier than the blankets, dense and suffocating.  You swallow.Â
The argument was your fault. Everything that went wrong this weekend was your fault. Youâve been on edge and quick to overreaction, uncharacteristic to your usual composure. You could tell it was worrying Minho but he has never been the type to pry. No, he waits until he is asked, which would be great if you knew how to ask. Hug me, hold me, help me.  You donât know how to ask for the things you want.  So you just continued to spiral, taking it out on him. Â
It should be you turning around, you facing him, you apologizing, but itâs Minho who rolls over. You freeze when he wraps his arms around you and hugs you tight from behind.  He doesnât quite kiss your shoulder, but he presses his face there for a second.  Wisps of his dyed blonde hair tickle your face.  You can imagine his eyes closing when he sighs.Â
âIâm sorry,â he says. âI shouldnât have said that shit.  I donât even know why we were fighting. Just call it my fault, okay?  I shouldnât have taken a city girl camping.â Â
He is trying to joke with you. His friendliness is what gets you. Even after everything, he is still so good to you. Â
You put a hand over your mouth, trying to stifle the sound when you start crying. Itâs a useless effort because your shoulders shake and Minho can feel it. Resigned to your pitiful state, you let your gasps shudder out of you.Â
âHey, hey,â he says, rolling you onto your back. He wipes his thumbs over your wet cheeks, staring down at you with his brow furrowed in confusion. âI was just kidding. Iâm sorry. Take a free slap.â He grabs your hand and lightly taps his own cheek with it.Â
It does make you laugh, but itâs a watery sound, rippling through your tears.Â
âMinho,â you say miserably, âI lost my job.âÂ
Understanding fills his expression. You canât bear to look at him, so you roll towards him to hide your face in his chest.  He lets you, wrapping an arm around you and rubbing your back as you make a blubbery mess on his shirt.  You tell him the whole story, about the promotion you lost to someone else, about the sudden downsizing and subsequent firing.  You are someone who functions with meticulous planning so your life being upended sent you hurtling into an unfamiliar state of panic. Â
âThatâs why I went out alone the other night,â you say. Your tears have slowed to hiccups by now. âI know it was stupid and it made you mad. I just felt like I was gonna explode.âÂ
Hopping bars and picking up random men is very out of wont for you.  Thatâs why you did it. Minho was less than pleased when he found out you went wandering around downtown at night, inebriated and alone.  His scolding was reasonable but you were beyond reason.
He goes stiff when you mention it now, though he doesnât stop rubbing your back.Â
âI wasnât mad,â he says after a minute. âI was just worried. AndâŠâ
You peek up at him. He sighs and groans and yells all at once, an amazing feat of sound, throwing his head back so it thumps hard against the headboard.Â
âI was jealous,â he says bitterly.Â
âJealous,â you say. âOf me?â Â
âYes.â He gives you a very sarcastic look.  âI wished it was me in that little black dress going out andâno. Obviously not of you. Why do you always torture me like this?  Go cry on the floor.â He jostles you but jokingly, still holding you against him.Â
You laugh a little, resting your head on his shoulder. Your head feels fuzzy and you donât think itâs from crying. Minho just admitted he was jealous of you going out with some other guy.  It feels like your heart is doing circus tricks.Â
âThere was nothing to be jealous of anyway,â you say softly. âWe didnât do anything. He insisted he was, um, really good with, uh, his mouth, you know, but then, like, the more he insisted, um, you know me, I started thinking too hard and, um, he couldnât make me, wellâŠâ
âKeep stammering. It makes me feel less embarrassed about myself.â Â
âMinho.â You slap his chest. His laugh is more of a maniacal cackle, his demeanour having shifted back to glee at your admission.  You lift your head to look at him, biting your lip, noticing how his eyes go to your mouth. âHe wound up leaving before it could go farther,â you say, your words startling him into meeting your gaze. You know itâs a petty blow, but you canât help but admit, âHe said I was too uptight and left.â
Minhoâs whole face scrunches up like he just got punched in the gut. Â Â
âNo,â he says. âNo.   Youâre just saying that to bully me. I didnât call you the same thing as that idiot.â Â
âItâs okay,â you say.Â
âNo.â He groans again, closing his eyes and kicking his feet. âAhhhhhhh. I should be shot!â Â
You are laughing properly now, clinging to him as he squirms in horror.        Â
âIâm sorry,â you say. âI didnât mean to make you feel bad.â
âOh really?â He cocks an eyebrow at you, his mouth a grim line.Â
âWell.â You burst into laughter all over again. âMaybe just a little!âÂ
He laughs hard at that, shaking his head, but still retaliates by tickling you. Your laughter turns hysterical, peels of giggles as he pokes every ticklish inch of skin.Â
âMinhoooo,â you whine to no avail. He just grins and continues his attack.Â
Your wriggling pushes the blankets off the bed. You try and whack him with a pillow so that hits the floor too. Soon it is just you and Minho and some dishevelled bedsheets, you on your back with him leaning over you.  You are both out of breath, both smiling. His hands are by your head, cradling you under him, while yours are on his chest as if preparing to push.Â
The room feels quiet, the silence again tense. But this tension is not rife with the same uncertainty as before.  It is not guilt or shame, but a longing that comes from the whispered confession that he was jealous of the last man in your bed, the simple reality that he is sharing your bed right now.   Â
You do not push him away. You hook your fingers in the collar of his shirt and pull. His elbows bend as he swoops down, meeting your raised head. He kisses you, deep and hot and slow, gently pressing your head back into the plush bed. Your squirming is very different now, legs opening to make room for him to settle between them. He feels so good on top of you, the feeling of his strong thighs between your legs, of his chest under your hands, wisps of hair brushing your face as he kisses and kisses and kisses you.Â
The kiss ends when you are simply too breathless to continue. He rests his forehead against yours, breathing hard.Â
âWow,â you say softly. You look at him. His dark eyes are often severe in a playful way and right now they are intense, seductive, and it isnât a joke.  You touch his bottom lip, holding his gaze while he kisses the tips of your fingers.  âJust so you know, that kiss was way better than everything that happened the other night.â
He grins at that.Â
âOh,â he says. âReally?âÂ
âYeah.â You watch him kiss your fingers again, then your palm. He looks at you as he dips a little lower, kissing the inside of your wrist. You are hypnotized by the heat of his dark stare, so you speak without thinking much. âEverything you do turns me on, though,â you say. âEven earlier, when you were crushing that garlic with the knifeââ
His seduction breaks with a little laugh and he raises both eyebrows.Â
âGarlic?â he asks. âThe garlic got you hot?â
âDonât make fun of me,â you say, pouting. âYou already made me cry once tonightâŠâ
âOh, is that what happened?â he says. âSure, okay, letâs play. I made you cry.  I should make it up to you?â
âMhmâŠâ
âWell then.â He leans in close to kiss you but he lingers for a torturously long time, just hovering above your lips.  Then he abruptly pulls away. He kneels upright and sits back on his heels. Â
Confused, you push yourself up on your elbows.  He is looking around the room and tapping his chin thoughtfully.
âWhat is it?â you ask. Â
âHmm?â He looks at you, tilting his head as if you are the confusing one. âWhat? Iâm just looking for some garlic, since youâre into that for some reason. Give me a minute to remember where I put it.â Â
âAhhh, I hate you!â You flop back down, covering your face with your hands.Â
Minho, diabolical creature that he is, throws back his head and laughs. He tries to pry your hands off your face but you stubbornly hold on. He sighs with theatrical exasperation and gives up. Â
You hear the rustle of fabric. Curious, you peek between your fingers. Minho is staring down at you with a single eyebrow cocked, a smug little smirk tugging at his lips. That smirk grows as he reaches back, flexing his arms before grabbing the back of his t-shirt and pulling. Your hands fall away from your face completely, your eyes drinking in the gradual reveal of skin as he pulls his shirt off.  It lands somewhere on the floor, forgotten.Â
ïżœïżœOkay,â he says, nodding curtly. âYour turn.â He makes a come-hither motion with two fingers. âCome on. Hurry up.âÂ
Your brain has short-circuited. It takes a second to make sense of his request and another minute to actually do it. You sit up long enough to peel your shirt off, then flop back down where you continue to stare at him.  You are checking each other out, looking up and down.  Your eyes goes over his bare chest and down, your mouth falling open.Â
You breath catches when he cups his hardening dick through his sweatpants, rubbing the heel of his hand there.Â
You meet his gaze, already breathing harder.
âWhat else then?â he says, still stroking himself through his clothes as he looks at you.Â
âUh, ah, erm, hmââ
âYou said everything I do turns you on.â He falls forward and catches himself on both hands, so suddenly you gasp.  Once again his arms cage you in, his face close to yours. His hips come down heavy between your legs, his dick hard where it presses intimately against you. âSo,â he says. âWhat else then?âÂ
âOh.â You are staring at his mouth, gaze heavy-lidded when he rocks against you. âUm. Well. Sometimes when youâre driving in reverse and you put your hand on my headrest, it kindaââÂ
Once again, his seduction attempt is thwarted when he canât help but laugh. He drops his head, laughing harder when you lightly smack him.   Â
âStop asking if youâre just gonna laugh!â you say, even while laughing too.Â
âOkay,â he says. âGarlic and driving in reverse. Iâm learning so much.âÂ
âIâm gonna kill you.âÂ
âThat would be very rude,â he says. âEspecially since Iâm about to go down on you.âÂ
âYouâwhaâohhhââ
You grab his head instinctively, fingers sinking into the natural dark roots of his dyed hair, just as he dips down to press kisses on your chest. You arch under him as his mouth finds every sensitive spot, licking sweetly and biting meanly, as to be expected from Minho. By the time he reaches the waistband of your shorts, you are panting and wriggling and clawing at him desperately. Â
You donât even have time to overthink. The world and all its troubles fall away for the time being. Â
You will figure things out. You always do. Right now, you let yourself lose control.  You usually hate the feeling, but in this moment you donât mind at all, because Minho has you.  You trust him completely. Surrender is easy. Â
The rest of your clothes join the messy heap on the floor.  He runs his hand smoothly along the inside of your thigh before guiding it over his shoulder.  He kisses there, then kisses you excruciatingly chastely between your legs. When you try and move, he keeps you steady, the sturdy hands that captivated you now holding you firmly in place.Â
When he finally stops torturing you, he gives you everything at once: a long, hot lick right up your centre. Again, your fingers find his hair. He doesnât complain or lose focus even though you are scratching at him a bit ferociously. Ever a skilled worker, he stays on task. It is so deft and swift and thorough; you get so wet and slippery that you can feel it running it down your skin. Â
When you get close, your hips lift but he brings you back. He looks up between your thighs as he brings you over the edge. Your legs shake and your eyes close and you bite your hand just a little, trying not to be too noisy in the middle of the night at a campsite.Â
He climbs back up when finished, looking like a very smug feline as he wipes his face on the back of his hand. Â
âOn a scale of garlic to driving in reverseââ he starts.Â
You playfully cuff the side of his head.Â
âThat good?â he continues to tease.Â
You roll your eyes but smile.  You think it is a seductive smile, but you do feel a little wrecked.  Still, you stay on task too, sliding your hand down his chest, down, down, down andâ
âOh,â you say. You look down at the same time as him. A noticeable wet stain is on the front of his sweatpants. âYou alreadyââ
He flops down beside you and sighs.
âSorry,â he says. âYou werenât the only one amazed with my sexy performance.âÂ
âThatâs okay,â you say with a laugh. You roll over to rest your head on his chest. His arm comes down around you, hand running down your naked back. You giggle when he cups and squeezes your ass. You dance your fingers down his pants to the wet spot where he came. âI think itâs kinda hot, actually.âÂ
Minho came from eating you out. Of course you think itâs hot.Â
And of course he has to be Minho about it.Â
âOkay,â he says. âGarlic. Driving in reverse. Premature ejaculation.  Uptight was definitely the wrong word. I honestly donât know if I can keep up with a freak like youââ
âUgh!â You roll away and turn your back to him, mostly to hide the fact you are laughing at his stupid joke.Â
He follows you, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you from behind. This time he kisses your shoulder properly, once, twice, three times. All the way up your neck to your ear and just behind it.Â
âYouâre lucky I like you so much,â you whisper.Â
âI like you too,â he whispers back, kissing your shoulder again.Â
You smile and close your eyes, listening to the rain and letting yourself snuggle safely in his arms.Â
#skz smut#stray kids smut#lee know smut#lee know x reader#lee minho x reader#lee minho smut#skz x reader
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Tags : Light Angst, Drinking, Hate Sex, Rough Sex (It gets rough), Daddy Kink, Degradation, Belly Bulging, Fingering, and one mention of peeing.
A/N: First fic finally came out... Thank God! I just want to say thanks to @capslocked for introducing me to other writers that helped me out. Thank you @gangplanksorenji, @ggidolsmuts, @iznsfw, and @fillinforlater for editing and guiding a beginner like me. Also thank you to the other writers (that didn't want their name to be mentioned.)
A glimpse, no. Perhaps a little longer, a gaze maybe? How about something more drawn out, a stare? To and away, you stared. âThis is getting dangerous,â you deemed all the while staring at her.Â
The two of you walked slowly in the wet, desolate streetsâadmiring the peaceful solace the night brought. The streets lighting up but dying down; a moonlight gleam hugged her delicate features. The midnight dress emphasised her pale beautiful skin, foregrounded by the starry night. The base of her neckâher defined collarbone seeping down to her chestâcaressed by the midnight breeze.
The rushing rain trailed off of your face. Her hand held yours, pulling you through city streets. Twisting through your callous hand, your hands intertwined. A mistake maybe? No matter. If it was you from the past it mightâve posed a problem but not anymore. By pure instinct, you grasped hers as well, strengthening the purest form of human connection.
A light flashed at the corner of your eye, the bus stop sign reflecting the moonlight glare. She seemed to not mind the rain, but you didnât want her getting sick. A pull, strong enough to take control but gentle enough not to hurt her, was all it took to break her gait. You pulled her towards the bus stop, sheltering the both of you from the rain.
Admittedly, you pulled her a tad too hard; and Hyewon, unable to stop, came crashing onto your torso. Not wanting gravity to take control, you stiffened up.
âYah!â she growled.
Your arms welcomed the crashing Hyewon, wrapping her in a tight embrace. Wet. Both of your clothes drenched and hers even more noticeableâher soaked clothes clung onto her body, tightening around every single curve, the very definition of form-fitting. You felt it all: the warmth of her hand on your pecs and her hot humid breath making its way up to you.
Seeing her eyes squeeze shut and her lips quiver, you brought her closer to youâembracing her a little while longer in hopes of soothing her distress.
You held her by her shoulders, âSorry! Are you ok?â full of concern.
She unwrapped her eyelids, âY-yeah. Iâm fine. You just⊠surprised me, thatâs all.â Â
You plopped her down on the bench, safe from the rain. Shivering, probably because of the cold, you took off your coat and wrapped it around herânot taking ânoâ for an answer.
âOh⊠thanks.â She looked up, her eyes like that of a raindropâreflecting your irises into hers. Hyewon would normally be easy to read. She was the type of person to lay it all bareâmaking you comfortable knowing she didnât have any ulterior motives, but this time felt a little different. Her irises reflected the care and intimacy you had for her. You tried to look away but you were immediately drawn back in.
You take a kneel, your face now half an arms length away from her, only now do you notice the peaks of her mounds piercing through her dress. Bare. With every breath, her thin frame expanded and contracted. The fragility of her body displayed itself in all its glory.
âIt worked out anyways,â her voice brought you back to your senses, âYou dragged us to where I planned to go.â
And so, you waited for the next bus to arrive. A moment of peace and tranquility, a moment so plain from which insanity can derive from. Yet you felt your consciousness ebb away, and as clear as your thoughts were mere moments ago, your head slowly swayed into the flow of the wind. At once, you were struck with a certain heaviness. Your head over your shoulder, on the lookout, only to see Hyewonâs head leaning against it. Unbeknownst to you, your cheeks flushed red like a paper lantern, the city serving as backdrop. Were you able to disassociate yourself tangibly, the scene transpiring right now painted a romantic cliche.Â
A beam of light made its way around the cornerâthe bus finally arrived. âHyewon,â you shook her by her shoulders. A small shift but nothing more. âYouâre joking?â you murmured.
âWhere did she even want to goâŠ?â A heave and a ho, you carried her like a log. The driver motioned towards an empty seat in the back row. You sat her down once again with utmost care to not wake her up. Her head flailed towards the windowâthump, thump, thumpâhitting the window as the bus rode through the bumps. Your hand broke through the space in between and pulled her head closer up against your shoulder, her head resting on your shoulder once again.Â
Deep asleep, she didnât notice you going through her bag in search of anything indicating the location of her humble abode. It didnât take long, Gyeoul Gong-gan Apartment Unit 381. âWait⊠we live in the same apartment. What am I doing?â you mused, your thoughts clearly influenced by the devilâs nectar. With a tolerance stronger than most, weakness struck with a heavy advantage. Clearly not used to it, your eyes grew heavy and fellâonly putting up a tiny struggle before your head soon followed.Â
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FlashbackâŠ
The pitter-pattering of the rain echoed throughout your apartment. The once lively place now reflected the same gloom the weather gave off. Oddly enough, it was calming for you. It served as a nice distraction to what used to be an apartment teeming with happiness and laughterâenough to rack up multiple noise complaintsânow filled with a dreadful quietness, constantly reminding you of your lonesome. Minutes slipped by without notice, you found yourself staring at the ceiling with no recollection of the events prior to your sleep. Whether it be the drinks or the stress of university life, nights were no longer the same. There was never a release, a sigh of relief like there used to be, but it was all a subconscious effort to distract yourself.Â
After a couple of seconds, your pillow started to vibrate, or so you thought. It took quite some time before you could get his body moving but you did. You have one missed call. Suddenly, you felt rejuvenated. âDid she call?â you scrambled out of your bed, âI knew it was all going to be okay.â And similar to that of a balloon, you deflatedâshoulders slumping and your breath slipping outâjust as quickly as you scrambled. âHey man⊠wanna go out to eat,â the message read out, âClass is starting again, the others are worried about you.â It was your best friend, Seonghoon.
Itâs been a while since your friend group last hung out together; and because of the pandemic, the first years of your university life took place online. Little did you know that this supposedly forgettable and uneventful time in your life would actually be your undoing. One that would imprint a mark inside that would slowly gnaw at you from the inside out. Like a boat hemmed in the fogâfog so light it looked like cotton, fog so light that you couldnât help but underestimate itâthe captainâs head on a swivel. So desperate, you looked for any light that shone through the softest white that enveloped you. Clouded. And there it was, the fire and the glow in the form of a girl. More luster than the starry sky and more luminous than the lone lantern in the night. Like the vacuum of space, she took you in with a pull stronger than that of black holes. The same dark nothingness in the middle of the starry sky, she was a person of immeasurable depthâan abyss, so enthralling you couldnât let your gaze slip.Â
The fire that embraced you with the warmth in the cold darkness, turned out to be the same fire that would reduce you to ashesâto nothing but a former shell of yourself. She called the tune and you listened. The tidal waves that would move as the moon influenced. The same body of water that would be lifeless without movement, âMaybe it was for the better.â She pulled the stringâthe tension tighter than an ancient lyreâand you broke.
Your phone vibrates once more, this time an alarm. Laundry - 3:00 pm. It was that time of the week but this one was more important than the last. Everyone was getting ready to go back to face-to-face classes after two years and first impressions were very important. But with dark circles under your eyes and a gaze so flat, it cut the airâyou werenât in the most presentable state. It took some incredible self-persuasion for you to finally get moving. Granted, all you had done so far was wash your face and wear some new clothes, but it was a step in the right direction no matter how minute it was. After taking some time to fix yourself up, you scanned your apartment. The acrid smell of the multiple leftovers pierced your nostrilsâstrong and stinging, you choked upâfinally snapping you out of your sad-stricken state, even if only for a moment. Immediately realizing the gravity of the situation, you hurriedly grabbed your washed and dirty clothes and took them down to the laundromat.
It didnât take long for you to go down the flight of stairs and reach the laundromat. An orange hue struck past the window, a nice and calming atmosphere, or so it would have been if you hadnât confined yourself in your room; essentially locking yourself away from all sunlight other than the dim and gloomy light struggling through the thickness of the curtains, like that of an eclipse.Â
Itâs been six months since your apartment was last filled with the voice of another and even longer since you last met up with your friends. âMaybe I should goâŠ?â you questioned yourself, âWhat if I kill the vibe though?â You went back up the stairs and cleaned your apartment while waiting for the laundry. It didnât take long, as the orange hue was still there when you went back downstairs. Quicker than you thought, you found some free time; memories of smiles and laughter came flooding in. You had so much free time now⊠time that would have normally been spent witâ
The laundry came to a stop unnoticed, but the cycle signal broke your train of thought. You collected your clothes and brought them back up. 1⊠2⊠3⊠4⊠The elevator taking longer than usual, your mind wandered once again. A tiny grin started to form on your face, quickly turning itself upside down. âDamn⊠Iâm really gonna live with this for quite some tiââÂ
âOh my God, itâs been so long!â a voice interrupted, âremember me?âÂ
A dazed, âHuh?â slipped out; with furrowed brows and squinted eyes, you tried to identify the owner of the voice but to no avail. Silence filled the air momentarily, âUh⊠I think you have the wrong guy,â you suggested.Â
âOh, come on! Itâs me,â she swiped a lock of disheveled hair, âHow about now?âÂ
Your jaw fell, words stuck in your throat, âHyeâHyewon? What are you doing here?â
âWhat do you mean? I live here,â she retorted, âSo⊠youâre getting your things ready for class, huh?â A puzzled look appeared on your face, âDonât tell me you also go to Seoul University.âÂ
âAlsoâŠ?â her eyes widened, a realization, âWhat are you majoring in?âÂ
âArchitecture,â they said in parallel to each other. âJinx! You owe me a soda,â she exclaimed. Â
âWhaââ a smug face greeted you, âHow did you know?âÂ
She turned her head away, âThatâs a secret.â
âYou canât be serious, right? Iâm busy right now,â you exhaled.Â
âYou can just buy me one some other time,â she presented her phone, âJust give me your phone number. I changed mine a while back.â In a rush, you quickly put it in and disappeared from her view.
âââââââââââââââ
The bustling city filled your senses: the people being dragged by the unseeing hand of capitalism, the awful artificial vibrations of the many cars racing to get to their workplaces, the smell of the tears of the hardworking man, and the swell of humanity creeping in everyoneâs personal space. It all slowly crept inâlike the vignette forming in your vision. All sounds slowly if not suddenly muffled themselves.Â
A tap on the shoulder, âYo⊠you good?â your head subtly swung, mimicking that of a pendulum, a response but not to the question. âY-yeah⊠Sorry, I zoned out.âÂ
âItâs our stop soon, get your things,â Seonghoon told you. "By the way have you heard of the newââ A ring broke the one-sided conversationâHyewon was calling. âOooh, so you have got someone?â he teased.Â
You waved Seonghoon off and answered the phone. âHeâHi!â a snicker from Seonghoon earned another wave. The voice on the phone echoed, âDonât tell me youâve forgotten what I said last time? I was waiting for you, you know?âÂ
âRight⊠yeah. Of course, I remember,â you replied, âThereâs a Korean BBQ spot I know downtown. Are you free this Friday?â Your reply earned a smirk from your friend. âAlright then, just call me. Iâll pick you up.âÂ
âAnd with that, the date has been set,â you exhaled.
Seonghoonâs brows furrowed, âItâs a date?!?!?â
 Eyes widened, âWhat!? No, no, no! I meant the date September 14!âÂ
A playful punch hit you on your shoulder, âRelax⊠I was just messing with you. Itâs our stop by the way.â Seonghoon led the way while you followed. It was quite a trek before you would reach the main campus, eventually splitting up due to the difference in departments. You would then drag your drained self through the day, and all of a sudden it was nighttime.Â
The swell of humanity had already dissipated, and what remained were the remnants of people picking themselves back up from their busy day. There were also a few peopleâwhether responsible or irresponsible, weâll never knowâburning the midnight oil. Some people were playing catch-up, while others were trying to get ahead of everyone else. It just made it clear that everyone was moving without a single care for your own problems.
And with less than three days to prepare and classes taking up most if not all of your time, it was physically impossible to be at your best.
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The sound of sizzling meat mixed with the aroma of seasonings and sauces fill your senses as you enter the building. The aroma was intoxicating, causing your mouth to waterâyet you couldnât do anything but wait as you and Hyewon stood outside waiting to be ushered to your seats.
Korea just transitioned away from its pandemic protocols. Itâs been ages since you last ate out by yourself, let alone with the company of someone else.
âIs it only going to be the two of you?â the waiter asked. You nodded in response.
âJust follow me.â The waiter motioned towards an empty seat. You allowed your partner to go first (now donât get it wrong, you guys arenât in that type of relationship) displaying your gentlemanly behavior. Partners, in a non-romantic way, just seems like the appropriate way to call it
The both of you sat down to where the waiter ushered you. You were welcomed by a soft yellow hue coming through the window from the lamppost outside. A calming atmosphere radiated from where you satâthe seats being padded which allowed for some of your stiffness to disappear.
Taking a short look around, your architectural senses started tingling. Things you wouldnât have noticed before become apparentâGreek pillars lifted the ceiling to a higher degree than normal, to allow for a spacious and comfortable feeling, while small pots of flowers hung from the ceiling reminded you of ancient history, the Hanging Gardens of Babylon to be exact.Â
Ancient history⊠well, thatâs another way to describe what you and Hyewon have going on. Itâs been ages since you guys last met yet somehow youâre here eating with her, like it was just the good old days.
Anyways, it was kind of weird that a Korean barbecue restaurant had such a niche and unique design. The theme didnât really match, like, who would pair the straight and harmonious architecture of the Greeks with a casual and relaxed establishment? The contrast between the two didnât make sense from an outsiderâs perspective but you guess it was a quality restaurant. There was an hour long line after all, so people must like it.
After looking around, you finally found your vision was naturally attracted to her face. You did look at everything else already so it just made sense to focus on the one last thing you havenât paid attention to, whether on purpose or not.
Hyewon was definitely beautiful but you never really got a proper look at her. It wasnât like youâd just randomly stare at her for a good ten seconds or so, thatâd be weird⊠but it was happening right now. However, things are unexpectedly in your favor. Right now, all of her attention was directed towards the menuâif this was any other world, sheâd have made a hole through the menu with how intense her gaze was.
It was clear she took great care of her appearance. Her skin was smooth to the touch, you imagine. Her lips were full and upturned at the corners, giving her a soft look of innocence. Hair, long and draped over her shoulders like the gentle waves of the ocean. Eyes, large and expressiveâalmost giving you a full view to what she was thinkingâand her beauty was enhanced by her effortless charm and grace⊠or lack thereof. You knew that when it came to the grace part, she wasnât the most graceful whenever food was in front of her.
You guys ordered some grilled pork belly accompanied by an assortment of side-dishes and some good old soju. With excellent service, your order arrived within ten minutes. She had just gone to the bathroom to touch up her makeupâso light that you didnât even notice she had put it on. She returned at basically the perfect time.
âHey! Are you going to help me or not?â She exclaimed, ready to put the meat on. You were staring at her againâno menu to distract her this time.
âY-yeah⊠Sorry, I was just thinking about some things.â You reached out for the tongs she was handing you.
âItâs just our first week. Is there something wrong?â she asked with a hint of concern.
Eureka! The contrast between the straight and harmonious architecture of the Greeks and the relaxed and casual establishment perfectly reminded you of Hyewon. Her soft and innocent look, that just radiated charm and grace, was in complete contrast to how she actually acts around people. She was always a genuine person that did and said whatever she wanted. She never bothered to please other people just for the sake of it. Kind of weird that youâre comparing a restaurant to a person but thatâs what happens to architecture majors.
You brushed away all of your thoughts. âNo, no, no. Itâs not a school thing,â you replied quickly, trying to clear her concern.
âHmmm⊠If you say so.â She hesitated, trying not to pry. âAnyways, letâs start cooking for real this time. Letâs leave all that stuff for another time.â
You finally started cooking. You laid the pieces of meat over the piping hot grill. You watched as it cooked itself from the overwhelming heat coming from the grill. You watched as the raw fat from the pork belly slowly transformed to a nice golden brown and its juices slowly dripped off the edge. You were so absorbed into watching the meat being cooked that you didnât even begin to notice the rustic scent of the grill slowly change to that of a tasty aroma. The sound of the crackling fat over the heat was nothing but music to your ears. You couldnât read minds but you could tell that Hyewon shared the same thoughts as you. As far as you could tell, she was still the same Hyewon from your high school days that loved anything related to food.
You watched as the piece of meat slowly metamorphosed from a raw and inedible piece of meat to something irresistible.
Finally, it was time for you two to dig in. You reached out to grab the tongs and place the pieces of meat onto both of your plates.
Hyewon took the first bite with amazing speed as if it was a race. Her cheeks puffed up and just as quickly as she reached for it, she gasped for air. She made a fanning motion trying to get as much cold air in her mouth as possible. You offered her a drink to wash it down but she refused. She didnât want her first bite to be diluted with alcohol.
âI know you want to savor it but⊠is this really the way?â you laughed as she stood up, trying to get even more air. It took a moment but she sat down soon after.
âWhew⊠That was an invigorating first bite.â She heaved.
âYeah⊠Burning your mouth is definitely one way to feel alive and healthy,â you retorted. Concerned, you proposed a compromise to the hungry Hyewon. âLetâs eat some of the side dishes while we wait for it to cool, okay?âÂ
âFineâŠâ her eyes downcast. The side dishes were quickly consumed, and it was, again, the time for the main dish.Â
You saw her all giddy and full of energy, making tiny quiet claps in anticipationâyou couldnât help but find it adorable. And for the rest of the main event, you found yourself constantly distracted by the amount of happiness Hyewon radiated with every bite. âSo this is what parents feel like when they say that they can feel full just from watching their children eat,â you thought.Â
Some time passed by; conversations came and went, more pieces of meat were cooked and eaten, and drinks were poured and emptied.Â
âSo⊠why did you major in architecture?â If it was any other person, it wouldâve been difficult to discern what she just said. Hyewonâs cheeks were puffed up, trying to do two things at the same timeâenjoy some food whilst talking to you.Â
âYou know you shouldnât talk with your mouth full right?â an awful attempt to change the topic. Her cheeks slowly deflated as the pork gradually melted inside her mouth. What shouldâve been a good ten seconds, now became two. It was impossible for you to think of a response that fastâor at least an answer that would be believable enough. Running out of time, you deciâ âOk⊠so why did you major in architecture again?â she interrupted, her eyes lit up all proud and smug. Her face radiated like that of a golden retriever that just fulfilled its ownerâs commands.Â
Your stream of consciousness wandered away. The numerous chatter, that once filled your ears, was now all muffled. The crackling fat on the grill found its way through the chatter to your ears, the aroma filled your nose. It was all so beautifully distracting.Â
âHello??â her hand swatting the air in front of you, trying to get your attention. âDid you not heââ you stuffed her mouth with the last piece of pork. That should buy you some time.Â
You started to interrogate himself, âWhy did I choose architecture again? Do they even make a lot of money?â subconsciously holding yourself away from the truth of it all.
Hyewon started chewing vigorously. The girl who always savored the last piece went out the window. The time that you bought yourself quickly ran out.Â
âWhy didnât she take her time with the last piece?!?!â you panicked.Â
âYou do realize that that was the last piece right?â A pitiful last attempt to distract her from the topic at hand.Â
Her face quickly turned from one of eagerness and excitement to one of great disappointment. You saw her looking over the table, her eyes desperately panning left and right in search of leftovers. Sad to say, it truly was the last piece.Â
You saw her poutingâher face all scrunched up, hands clenched into a tight fist, her eyes downcast, and shoulders following the same trajectoryâthough unable to rid herself of her cute aura. You couldnât take it seriously because of how large the contrast was, yet you knew the gravity of the situation. âEhemâŠâ you coughed, raising your hand in hopes of gathering the attention of an unoccupied waiter.
A good ten seconds passed by and you couldnât help but be bothered by the daggers pointing behind your back. Wanting to correct the situation, you stood upâdisregarding how you looked to everyone elseâtrying to get the waitersâ and waitressesâ attention.Â
âCould we get two more servings and some more drinks?â you said as you looked towards Hyewon, hoping to satisfy her. Arms crossed and lips pouted, she maintained her rigid and immovable stance. You knew she wouldnât budge until you were actually able to replace what was taken away and then some. It took some time but she finally got around. Her once pouting face now held the crescent of the moon on her lips.Â
You reached out for the tongs once again and slowly distributed the meat onto their plates. Her face lit up every time he placed a piece onto her plate and drooped down every time you put one on yours. Noticing the small detail, you regretfully decided to just give the rest of the unclaimed pieces.Â
Her wide smile glistened, allowing the rest of her features to shine. She regained her radiance, the same radiance reflected onto him. And with the mood lifted by such a vibrant display, moments slipped by without notice.
Your hand interrupting the bustling atmosphere, you asked for the bill, to which a waitress arrived and gave, or so you thought. Another hand made its way to interrupt the waitress this time. The hand was delicate and gracefulâslender fingers that tapered off into slender nails, wrists dainty yet strong and embraced by a simple hair tie. âI can pay. It was my idea anyway,â she protested. Fearing another fight, you decided to concedeâbut not entirely. The LED lights slowly crept in as the natural light slowly dispersed. âWhat if I offer to take her home?â you thought, âHeyââÂ
She interrupted, âYou wanna drink some more?â presenting her hand.Â
She gathered her long locks of silky hair, âWouldnât want to be wasted so far from home do ya?â Her fingers worked gracefullyâtwisting and looping the hair into a tight bun, leaving some lengths untied for a slightly disheveled look.
âSo⊠are you gonna take my hand or what?â She swiped the stray lock of hair from her face. Not missing a heartbeat, you took her handâthe very same hand you admired just a few minutes ago. To your surprise, her fingers intertwined with yoursâan intimate and romantic gestureâbut you had not a single clue if it held any meaning. Hyewon always had a problem with personal space and physical touch. âSo this is what those boys, who confessed to her, felt.âÂ
The cobwebs of your heart were slowly getting woven away. âIs this right? Am I allowed to feel like this?â The invisible vice grip returned, ever so slightly tightening in your solar plexus. To what shouldâve been butterflies in your stomach, were the rotten cocoons all knotted up.Â
You shook your head in discord of your own thoughts. âYeah⊠thereâs no way. We literally just met again after all these years.â Hyewon pulled you by your hands outside, oblivious to your thoughts.Â
âWhere exactly are we going?â you stopped in your tracks, forcing her to break her pace.
âDonât worry about it,â she chuckled, âDid you always ask these many questions?â She tugged on you again, âNow, come on!â Forcing an exhale out of him, âFine!âÂ
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Flashback endâŠ
âWake up you lovebirds!!â The driver yelled inside the now empty bus. Eyelids still heavy, everything slowly came into focusâyour head resting on Hyewonâs. Somehow still asleep, âWhat the hellâŠ? Is she a light drinker?â you carried her to her unit.
âDonât tell me her keys fell outâŠâ the slight jingle when exiting the bus replayed in your mind. Not wanting to leave her out in the open, you took her a floor down to your apartment.
Light. Your hands behind her knees, her breasts pressing onto you. You find yourself conscious of her braless venture with the way you felt her tits plunge itself, in its erectness, on your back; sending waves of sensation to and from your back.
You lay her down on the couch, dripping water all over the place. âHow the fuck am I supposed to dry all of this?â Scratching your head, you began to unbutton your polo.
A hand slithers its way from the back of your shoulders to your absâthe finger tracing the definition of your muscles, leisurely admiring it. âI canât believe your ex is missing out on this,â the girl whispers into your ears.
Earning a well-deserved shove, âGet the fuck off me! Iâm letting this go just because youâre drunk.â
âOr what?â her voice alluring, tempting a reaction out of you.
A pinch to your templeâtrying to hold yourself back, letting out an extended exhale, âI swearâ say one more word and Iâm gonnââ
A flash of light glared through the windowâexposing her naked body, her transparent midnight dress gripping tightlyâfollowed by a roaring thunder.
Donât look. Your head turned away, you donât see her approach you. A turn back and youâre greeted by her face, not a foot furtherâher face tilted, awaiting a reaction out of you. Eyes downcast, youâre taller than her, stronger than her, and yet it feels as though she has you under her grasp. She grabs your chin, âWhat now?â The water in her clothes weighed it down, slowly showing off more and more of her chest.
You grab Hyewonâs wrist, causing her lips to quiver. A twist and a turn, like that of a ballerina, you switch places. You trap her between your body and the wall, her hand forced by your own against it. âSo you can take charge~â her voice trailed off.
âFuck this.â You let go of her hand, the gentleness absent. Youâre not falling for anything at this point. Itâs clear she wants to rile you up⊠but why?
âItâs been six months right? Six months of no action too, I presume?â you see what sheâs getting at.
âWas it all planned? Was that innocent display a lie?â
âDoes that matter? I know you want me,â her finger peeling back her lower lip, âIâve seen the way your eyes stare at me.â
âYouâre not getting what you want, you know that right? I donât know why I thought this shit would work,â you wave her off.
âI always get what I want~â approaching you ever so slowly. âIsnât that right?â her hands curling behind your neck.
You prove her rightâyou lean in for a kiss, her hands pull on your hair, âWhere did all that bravado go? Guess you were a bad boyfriend huh?â
You lift her by her waist, her body draping over your shoulders as you throw her onto the bed, not without a single smirk curling up her mouth, âThere it is⊠thereâs the man I want.â
âYou fucking whore,â your fists clenching, âYou think you can just come in here and do what you want? You donât deserve any of that lovey-dovey shit.â
âOh~ trust me. I donât want any of that.â Hyewon crawls with no care in the world, her eyes focused on your bulge. Fuck. She lacks manners, lacks graceâher eyes completely bewitched. To her, you are her food for the night. Her teeth skillfully peels your underwear, revealing your cock. âOoooh, big, veiny.â How phallic.
And suddenly, her grace comes backâthe sultry grace of sucking your cock. She swallows it all in one dive. Thereâs no beauty behind it all, or at least there shouldnât be. There was something hypnotic about how she stared at you with your cock in her lips.
Look down and all you can see is her disheveled hair with your hands gripping to the shape of her head. A subtle force keeps her plunging deeper and deeper to no end. Her tongue swirls around your cock, rubbing all over the veins, not leaving a spot untouched. Her nose plugged, her other senses heightened itself to that of a supernatural level. She feels you through the veins of your cock lodged in her throat, every throb and every pulse. She reads you completelyâyou werenât thinking with your brain after all.
Not enough. You push her head deeper, her nose plunging deeper into your pelvis. Hyewonâs sultry grace disappears, âWAI-â The silent apartment, now resonates with the sinful sounds struggling out of her throat. âHMMMF!â her hands slamming onto your thigh. âChoke on it!â you punch it in. The walls of her throat begin to collapse, tightening. A cough, or so it should have been but instead she choked more on your cock, clearly too much for her to handle, the length forcing its way down even more.
Release. She pushes back, gasping for air. She needs oxygen and you deprived her of it. âIâm not done with you,â you grab her head and force your cock deep down her throat again.
âStop, stop, stop! I canât fucking bre- GOUHK!â A galore of drool seeped out the corners of her mouth, dripping down onto the already wet sheets. âFuck you,â Hyewon slurs, this time you pull on hair. The constant bobbing continues, though not of her own volition. You press her head onto your pelvis one last time, this one stronger than all the others. Your spine buckles downâthe same amount of force one would put when opening the lid of a jar, arms tensing and veins appearingâyou unload onto the walls of her throat. The goopy, thick liquid forcing its way down to her stomach. Unable to take it all in, she pushes you away and coughs up the rest. You go along with it, feeling your load force its way out.
Hyewon lays down on her back, gasping for air, occasionally coughing up your cum like a broken water fountain.
âH-Holy shit⊠I almost died there.â Hyewon exaggerates as her fingers pull on the corners of her mouth, widening the moist entrance to show the masterpiece you created within her velvety wallsâclumps of white semen sticking to her uvula, semen blending in with her ivory-like teeth.
âYouâre not a one-hit wonder are you? If you were then Iâd understand why she left you,â another remark looking to irk something inside of you. You pull on her ankles, âOw! You could be much kinder to a lady like me, you know?â The sarcasm in her voice telling you she doesnât give a shit about your feelings and your past.
Rip her dress off, âFuck you! That was expensive.â
âYou think I fucking care?â You shoot out a glare so flat it cuts the air.
âOh~ I know you donât,â she giggles, âNow fuck me like the slut I am will you?â
You twist her bodyâher back now facing you. Her hands unfolding her pussy, making way for your cock. A plunge deep inside, âOh⊠fuck~ Youâre so fucking tight.â Her plush flesh tightens around you. Hyewonâs hands are busy trying to keep herself saneâgrasping at the sheets, almost ripping them.
âYeah~ Just like that⊠daddy,â she turns around. You greet her face with a slap, earning a yelp. âIâm so fucking trashy right?â You hear the smirk in her voice.
âYouâre not fucking learning are you?â her hair brutally balled up into your fists. Pull tighterâher back arching. Pull tighterâyour other arm now putting her into a chokehold. You thrust into her, vehemently, without a single care. You have full control now. Let go of her hair and palm her abs, feeling your cock swell through.
âFUCKKKK!â She tries her best to push your arm away, âFuckin- Stop! Stop pressing on it! YOU"RE GONNA RIP ME IN HALF!â She claws at your chokehold, trying her very best to get out. Fuck thatâs hot.
Itâs the way she surrenders every part of her body as you fuck the living shit out of herâwell, itâs not like she has a say in the matter. You push her into any position you want. Manipulate her like a doll, existing purely for your pleasure.
The whines, the slurring of her voice, all of it so enthralling to hear. You feel her saliva drip onto your arms. You thrust harder than the last with every incomplete sentence coming out of her filthy mouth. With every incoherent word, your cock throbs. Every single moan now a glass-breaking scream. Youâre piling on noise complaints. Harder. Youâre really in it nowâin herâalmost fucking her ten crimes deep before you can relish in your high. The knot in your stomach is slowly unravelling, the floodgates are about to open. Youâre remolding her into your toyâif only she wasnât the one playing with your emotions but who cares, you were having the time of your life. Another rip-roaring scream, the last one. Now, everything that came out of her mouth was nothing else but a low grumble, her voice box pushed to its very limits.
Hyewonâs nails dig deep into your arms, âAhm- IâM PEEING!â Her muscles contracting, her hips buckling. Your cock following the trajectory. Sheâs on her toes. You feel the warm fluid trickling down your thighs. You donât let up; in fact, you squeeze tighter.
The whites of her eyes take over as they roll back in her head. A hand free, you go further. You mask her with your hand, her grumbles struggling through it. Every moan, every groan. You feel her depleting energy, channeled by her voice, propagating through your very veins.
Fall in love with the idea of sophistication, the assumption of carnal layers peeled back, to reveal the sin of lust inside such a person, peeled back one by one.
Take away a sapien. You were stripping her down to her very core, diluting it. Primitive. With pure instinctual fucking, you were singlehandedly reverting her DNA millenniumâs back.
You free Hyewon from your clutches.
What a masterpiece to behold! Her body lays on the mattressâlimp, almost lifeless. A quiver then and there easing your worries. Your floodgates open, you unload on her backâropes of semen shooting outâmarking her as yours. It fits her so well, almost like a back tattoo (but made of cum). The liquids making a cocktail in the sheets.
Your heart is beating out of your chest. You arenât satisfied⊠yet. Your fingertips dig into her cheeks, âFucking weak slut. All that talk for nothing.â Hyewonâs gaze is cloudy, she isnât even staring at you. Sheâs drunk-dazed, almost jaded. You slap her face with your cock, âWake up, bitch! We arenât done!â
Itâs a bit too late for some foreplay but here you are, rubbing her cunt vigorously. Are you starting a fire? One thingâs certain, her nerves are burning and youâre warming her upâher erogenous zones. Preparing them for the experience theyâre about to go through.
Finger her. Your fingersâthree to be exactâmake their way through the ruined walls, like an explorer finding the ruins of ancient civilization. You feel some precum sticking to her walls. You bottom out, reaching the furthest your hand could go. You curl your finger in a come-hither motion, jerking it in a disorderly, primal manner. No techniques. Itâs the pure girth of your fingers stimulating her G-spot, almost clawing at her walls, her body quivers with the slightest touch.
Hyewon, still unconscious, her body declares its sign of life with every single convulsion.
You donât limit yourself. Your other hand making its way to her ass. What is meant to be a delicate spotâthrow that out the windowâyou go at it with intensity. Rather than curling your fingers, you put pressure on the walls of her ass, working it in a circular motionâstirring it in its chaotic mess.
The obligatory orgasm, and when it eventually does come, like a dopamine hit, is thrilling and satisfying but for no more than a few fleeting moments but thatâs all you need.
Her back arching, pelvis thrusting the air, her arms reaching for the ceiling, palms spreading to its very limit. Her liquids squirts all over your hand. You send an electric charge coursing through her veins, essentially resuscitating her, âHOLY SHITTT- LET ME TAKE A BREAK! PLEASE! DADDY! PLEASE! TOO MUCH! ITâS TOO MUCH! IâM CUMM-â Hyewonâs last words before passing out again. Her body crumples on the bedâher body in shambles, almost droopy.
A deafening silence fills the room, the only thing you can hear are your weary breaths. You just finished but are you finished? You look back, the view unlike any other. Sheâs a tool and nothing more. And despite looking pristine just moments agoâlike a flower untouched, the color white personifiedâher body says otherwise.
How sinful. How tempting. Sheâs all that and she knows it. Hyewon may think sheâs a devil but you beg to differ. A fallen angel youâd say. Itâs almost artistic as to how much she encapsulates it without knowing so. The innocence remains the same, unaware of her surroundings and herself. Is lust a sin? You hear the moans reverberate from the upper floor. The normality of it all hits you. Itâs an innocent sin. Thereâs no point overthinking. Enjoy yourself⊠just like Hyewon just now. You needed it, the release. âYou could have been a lot kinder about your words, you know?â you give her a spank, blood vessels squeezing, your hands imprinting itself.
âYou knew I was awake?â she looks back, struggling to sit herself upâher arms weak from what you just put her through. You lay beside her. âYah!â You put her in your arms, this one a tender embrace.
Hyewon tucks her head under your neck, her finger tracing circles on your pecs, âJust so you know, Iâm not taking back what I said. I donât know her but sheâs a bitch.â
You let out a chuckle as your fingers run through her hair, almost massaging her scalp. âAre you trying to score some good guy points now?â she looks up, her eyes devoid of ulterior motives.
âIs it working?â your other hand makes its way under her chin, caressing it.
Her lips quiver, resisting the urge to smile. âNo,â she says as she hides her face away, pressing them onto your abs.
âLetâs get up by the way, your liquids are everywhere,â you punctuate.
You get off the bed, helping her on the way up, âI didnât rough you up too bad, did I?â
An attempt to prove you wrong, she smacks your hand away, rejecting any form of help. âIâm an independent woman,â she says all smugly.
âOh yeah?â you give her the side-eye, your fingers point toward her legs, âIs there an earthquake right now? Youâre wobbling like crazy.â
âFuck you,â she says just to immediately use your body as support. She looks up to see your smug face, âI hate you, you know that?â
âYour body sure doesnât say so. But I still canât believe you did all that⊠for me,â you grab onto her shoulders, standing her straight.
âI did all that for youâyour cock all right? Donât get it twisted,â you twist her body, then carrying her like a princess, âYah! Put me down!â
âOr what?â you lean in closer, almost biting her ear. It sends shivers across her body, you feel the way her body just shivered, âYouâre turned on again, arenât you?â Met with silence, the sensation of wetness on your arm serves as her answer, âJust⊠donât say those things next time, okay?â
âWho says thereâs gonna be a next time?â shuffling in your arms.
âI did,â you give a light kiss on her forehead, âYou were just lucky I gave in to you this time.â
âAnd if I donât stop talking shit about your ex?â she crosses her arms.
âThen Iâll make sure youâll be the one to give in,â you carry her towards the bathroom.
âWell⊠sheâs a bitch,â you give her a glare, âNow, teach me a lesson in the shower will you?â
A/N: Hello!! I finally got this out! It took longer than I wanted since I got sick, and I just couldn't write properly. I got some more time now so hit me with some asks/requests. I might do them... but what's for sure is another fic before February ends. -đ
#kpop gg#idol x male reader#kpop smut#izone smut#kang hyewon#hyewon smut#kpop fanfic#male reader#kang hyewon smut#girl group smut#smut#light angst
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i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 3
summary ;; Sullys stick together. You learn the hard way what happens when you don't. PART 2 | PART 4 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; descriptions of blood and violence incoming, beware! shout out to the ppl who predicted the stuff in this chapter LMAO so um... i couldnt tag everybody who asked when i said i would... there's apparently a limit to how many people you can tag. please forgive me đ im not taking any tagging requests anymore since i cant do it. so sorry about that,,,, seriously also, thank you so much for 1160 followers! i still cant fucking believe it... daddy issues solidarity đ€đ»đ€đ»
âHi there Corporal, you hear me? Yeah, I know you do. As much as Iâm charmed by the fatherly love I could give you a big old sloppy wet kiss, we have unfinished business.â
Rain covered the rustling of clothes and the click-clacks of readjusted weapons as concentrated silence hung in the air, thick and heavy like the morning mist swallowing up the forest.
No answer.Â
What face could your parents be making right now? Heartbeat in your ears, you tried to hide your shame by looking down, but a jerk on your queue set you straight. the avatar holding you digging his gun sharper in your neck.   Â
âWhat, cat got your tongue all of a sudden?â The leaderâs stare found yours. âLet me give you a quick remedy.âÂ
Theyâd linked your device into another for the sound to be relayed outside and the voice detection range could be wider, in other words, they wanted your father to hear what was happening to you. Your braid was yanked as if the one pulling it wanted to snap it right off your skull, no amount of training could stop the scream torn out of you â all the show just for him.Â
The line was deadly still, save for some rustling, crackling static that you could have easily mistaken for hissing.
A ghost of a smile shadowed the manâs face, he extended his rifle to tip your chin up. âGuess weâre gonna have to be louder than that to wake daddy up sweetheart.âÂ
âStop!â Father yelled, the unexpected timing of it made you jump. That earned him a group chuckle from the avatars around you. âStop.â
He talked. He didnât leave you to fend for yourself in this. Thank Eywa!
âThat was fast,â the captor behind you said.Â
âThought youâd have forgotten English by now, playing native.â
â...Quaritch?âÂ
Quaritch. That awful, awful man from the stories your mother killed? Spiderâs father? But⊠But he was dead. How could sky people know how to cheat death?
âIn the flesh.âÂ
Fatherâs voice wavered, youâd think he was scared if you didnât know any better. âThatâs impossible.â
âBack from the grave just for you, Jake.â
âThen Iâll just have to put you right back where you belong.â
The squad of avatars openly laughed at that, boisterous, confident, arrogant.Â
This was Toruk Makto they were openly mocking. None of them would last for one minute in front of him and yetâ
âQuite the teary lovers reunion weâre havinâ here, but you got busy while I was gone, huh?â He looked down at you again, yellow eyes filled with mirth. âI have this tiny bird here we plucked right out of the air. Imagine my surprise to learn sheâs yours. Is this the only one, or you got yourself a litter now?â
Silence again.Â
âWhat do you want?â
âStraight to the point as always.â The smug smile momentarily twitched into an unamused, withheld resentment. This man was nearing the end of his capacity to keep taunting. âI donât think Iâll tell yet. You know I love to be a tease.â
Your ears rotated upwards in treacherous hope at your father's next words. âIf you touch one hair on my daughterâs head I swear to godââ
âYou exchanged your god for this shithole, Jake. Letâs not kid ourselves now.â Any hint of playing around was gone, now, eyes fixated on something on the ground ahead. âYour daughter will be my guest for a while. Think of it as summer vacation. Donât worry, unlike the Naâvi, weâre very hospitable.â His thumb brushed over a button. âUntil next time.â
âFucking bastardââ
With one beep, the call was over. Quaritch was touching the band around his neck this time. âIron Sky, Blue on Actual. We are standing by for extract, over.âÂ
You began to tussle against the avatar behind your back. âNo! No! Let me go!âÂ
âBe advised. We're bringing in a high value prisoner.â
âDadâs really gonna flay her alive this time, I canât wait.â Loâak, positioned just behind the flap of the tent to not be seen from the outside as he peeked with one eyeball just in case, was watching his parents vehemently yell at each other in whispers that started out loud, but got hushed probably to not reach him and his siblings. Aggressive limb gestures were flying in the air, and at one point, his mom had tried to run off somewhere and was forcefully stopped.Â
Dad was currently pacing around like a wild animal with one hand permanently stuck rubbing his face, and mom turned away from him, holding her forehead. âTheyâre really going at it, huh?
Kiri was not amused with his insistence to breach their privacy. âWhatâs so interesting about watching this kind of thing?â
âCatharsis?â He remarked in English, feeling sophisticated. âYou remember Spider talking about it? Purification and emotional cleansing through relief that youâre not going through the horrible tragedy, the character on stage is.âÂ
âYouâre normally so dumb.â Loâak bore his fangs at her matter-of-fact tone of voice. âYour brain only comes back on when itâs about chaos.â
âIâm petty, and what about it?â A tilt of his head to dare Kiri to ask for her point, then his attention was thwarted by an incomprehensible cry from his mother. She was pushing dad from his arms, furious like Loâak had never seen before as the upset man tried to hold her more. âLook at mom and dad breathing fire at each other! You think theyâre discussing how to punish her?â
âStop spying already skxawng, mom will be angry if she sees you. Weâre supposed to be in bed.â
âShut up, Iâm trying to listen here!â His ears were tilting at every angle to make out any words that reached to him as nothing but a cluster of broken sounds. âWhy did they have to go far?âÂ
âBecause they wanted to be away from peeping toms like you?â
âAnd youâre still here too, so?â Loâak gave his sister a meaningful look. âI know you wanna see too.â
âUgh!â Kiri shoved out her tongue at him, eyes dead. âAnd itâs not funny, by the way! They are fighting. Stop being happy about it.â
He knew they were fighting about his older sister, and that sheâd get all the heat and fallout from it the moment she was back. Loâakâs head was full of what he could get out of it, or what to ask her for in return for helping her out in her detention. So satisfying to be the sibling who wasnât in trouble. He should do it more, actually. âIt is funny when itâs not about me.âÂ
âYouâre sick for taking joy in anotherâs suffering.â
âOh, Iâm doomed, then.â Kiri took whatever fat was on his thin arm between her thumb and forefinger, and twisted. Loâak had to blink away the tears that rushed to his eyes, snatching his limb away from the displeased girl and pushing her away in return â he was annoyed at how much that hurt, why was that so damaging for no reason? âYeouch! What the hell?â
âWill it kill you to practice mindfulness once in a while?âÂ
He raised his voiceâs pitch to mock the wobbly, ear-scratching whine of yours, and exaggerated his body movements to match, too. âI hate you!â Â
âGross.â She tried to shove him, he caught her hands in the air, pushing her back and getting the spiteful annoyance of his sister as a result. âDad was actually hurt by that.â Loâakâs eyes could roll down the hills by themselves the way that sounded, but Kiri, as always, was bothered so inexplicably. âI donât like this. I have a bad feeling.â
That bad feeling was the herald of dadâs upcoming cranky ill-temper and what would follow after you inevitably had to come crawling back home with tail between your legs, Neteyam dragging you from the scruff of your neck. Loâak was refusing to sleep so he could enjoy the fight.Â
âMe personally, am over the moon, ikran duty is so gonna be off my hands. For months.â He halted at the idea that just went off in his head, tail swishing with the hype. âI wanna tell Spider. Iâll go get him.â
âAbsolutely not. You sneak off now and theyâll laser-focus all the anger on you!â Kiri was pointing a warning hand at him, but slowly lowered it, one corner of her mouth twitching up. She was holding back amusement. âHey, you know what? Nevermind, you can go. I want you to go. I have to see this.â
âHa-ha.â Loâakâs tail stuttered, losing enthusiasm. âAttempted murder, much?â
âGuys, whatâs going onâŠâ
Upon the unexpected voice that wobbled its way into their conversation, they both looked down to see Tuk gripping her weaved blanket with one hand and dragging it on the floor as she made her way to them, the other rubbing her eyes one by one so sleep dripping from them would fly away.
âSee, you woke her up! What do we do now?â
âYou woke her up by yelling, why is it my fault now?â
âI didnât, youââ
âDid too.â
âDid not.â
âDid too.â
âDid nââ
âGuysâŠâ Tuk pulled on Kiriâs hand, and the foreign object she was clutching the whole time distracted Loâak. It must have dug into the older oneâs skin that she carefully picked it up to inspect. The ear pieces they took off before they went to sleep. This one was Kiriâs. âNeteyamâs calling. You didnât hearâŠâ
Grinning, Loâak snatched it up and skipped backwards and put it in his own ear, ignoring Kiriâs hushed yells to give it back now and the groans about ruining it with his stinky, cheesy earwax. He had to keep bouncing around, the girl was chasing him around the tent. âBro! Tell her sheâs sooo dead. Dadâs literally keeping guard in front of the tentââ
âLoâak, quit it.â Neteyamâs tremulous answer was harsh. Loâakâs smile wavered as he dodged Kiriâs arm and jumped over discarded cups on the floor, knocking over wooden spoons. âI need you to tell me whatâs happening over there.â
âAw, babyâs so scared to come back she needs to make a game plan first?â He laughed, slapping Kiriâs hands away. âIâll only tell if she gives back my karambit knife.â
His older brother sighed, a bit too exasperated.Â
âYeah, Iâm not letting that one go and Iâm also making it your problemââ
âLoâak, she isnât here.â
He stopped dead in his tracks. âWhat?â
âShe isnât here. I couldnât find her.â Kiri bumped into him, unable to stop herself at the right time to hit the brakes due to how abruptly Loâak had stilled. Theyâd almost tumbled over. âDad told me to wait until he contacts her and Iâve been waiting for minutes. Now tell me whatâs going on over there.â
âBro, youâre serious?â
âWhy wouldnât I be serious, skxawng!âÂ
He turned to Kiri in disgusted discomfort, who had damn-near glued her own ear to his to hear better. âForget months, Iâll be free for years. Dadâs not gonna let her take one step off the camp anymore.â
The girl would stomp her foot if she was a couple years younger. âWhatâs this about?â
And Neteyam would shake Loâak from the neck for ignoring him this long while he was fussing. âTell me already youâ!â
âTheyâre having a fight bro.â He leaned better to peep outside the tent. âYeah.â
âShe came back? Why didnât you tell me?â
It was uncommon for Neteyam to completely disregard the previous input heâd been given. Loâak didnât understand this level of anxiety. âAre you having a brain fart? Would we be having this conversation if she was here? Itâs mom and dad who are fighting.â
It wasnât that serious â on the contrary, his sister was quite simple to understand. She didnât want to be found and had changed her place of hiding. End of story. The golden boyâs worrywart nature was keeping him from reasoning.Â
âDonât be a smartass.â Loâak practically felt Neteyamâs want to land a loud smack on his back. âWere they only able to reach her, then? Is that why theyâre fighting?â
âYouâre asking me?ââ
The older boy began to grumble under his breath. âThis is why I called Kiri.â
Said girlâs ears perked up over picking her name from the static-surrounded line. Loâak snorted. âOuch, bro.â
Kiri shook him from the elbow. âMe? What about me?â
âGreat title for your autobiography.â
Kiri raised her arms to give him a beating and Loâak was already bolting away from anywhere near her vicinity. The siblings didnât even take notice of the line with Neteyam going dark as they focused on their own play-scuffle for a while.Â
Until Loâak bumped into someone.
It wasnât Tuk.Â
Shoulders pulled into himself, he turned around torturously freaked out to find dad standing there like a ghost, his tactical vest packed to the brim and gun hanging from his back the way they wore their bows.Â
The blue of his skin had faded into an ashier tone, amber eyes wide and bloodshot, the veins on the normally put together Oloâeyktanâs forehead were bulging, even a socially clueless person would pick up something was seriously wrong. He commanded cold authority of the battlefield simply by the way he stood, immediately triggering Loâak into soldier mode. Â
He took a few steps back, chin hanging low at the lightless, unblinking stare his father pushed down on him. âSir.â
All the sleepiness that had Tuk unresponsive and nodding off through Loâak and Kiriâs push-and-pull was knocked out of her at the sight, she was now unnerved and frightened. âDad?â
The manâs intensity was somehow eased by his youngestâs reaction, but he held back from taking her in his arms like he normally would to comfort her, didnât even care to remark on how they were supposed to be sleeping â how theyâd woken their little sister up, instead focusing on Loâak. âI want you all to listen well. Your mother and I are heading out for a minute and your grandmother will be with you soon â Neteyam is Oscar-Mike to come back here. Stay put and donât go anywhere, understand?â His finger pointed accusingly at him. âDonât cause trouble. Looking at you boy, what Iâm saying here is Marine proof. Iâm at the end of my wits here, donât even think about slipping a tail out of this tent.âÂ
The potent severity of whatever the hell was making him this agitated to the point of a voice so hoarse it was unrecognizable got the wheels in Loâakâs head whirring. âWhatâs happening, dad?â
âOne child!â The thundering shout came down on him with the force of a falling mountain, making Loâak jump out of his skin. âI need one child of mine to listen to me without asking any questions today!â Dadâs voice broke when Tuk whined, he shut his eyes as if he was in physical pain, and flexed his jaw, shaking his head and pulling the girl in from her shoulders to soothe her. Still no direct hugging. âJesus Christ.â
âIâm sorry sir,â Loâak said immediately, distraught by the over-the-top reaction, hands unknowingly curling into fists by his sides. Whenever that sky people word âJesusâ slipped from dad not having any control between the border of his two languages, the boy knew it was demanding gravitas. âI heard you CFB.â
âGood.â He thinned his lips. âKiri, please.â
Loâak frowned at dad basically asking for her to play her brotherâs keeper in Neteyamâs absence in two simple words.
She nodded. âI know dad.â
He caught a glimpse of his mother running in the distance, her fatherâs bow in her hand.Â
Just what was happening? What had you done?Â
Eywa, it had to be sky people.Â
Dad saw the realization in his face. âStay,â he emphasized, one final time before he was also gone with the wind.Â
Loâak wouldnât have obeyed if it wasnât for his grandmother arriving just in time, keeping them busy with a story about the arrival of a wounded ikran with no rider.
You realized the gunshot wound puncturing your upper abdomen was there the whole time when the avatars put first aid and later slapped a rectangular sky people bandage on it that helped clotting or whatever it was called, the pain simply not being there had played a big factor in it with the body running on pure adrenaline.Â
(Crouching close to you, Quaritch had bragged, âWe arenât so bad after all, huh, sweetheart? Itâs called civilization. Your daddy ever taught you about that?â
Civilization, your ass. They needed you. There was nothing well-meaning about what they were doing.
And the nickname had ticked you off, sullying the good memories of father, your head slammed into his nose in full power after a hiss.
âNow my daddy taught me that!â you spat in English as other avatars had tackled you. The man claiming to be Quaritch was smiling as he wiped away the blood trickling down his nose.
What was the point in trying to patch you up if they were going to do this, then?)
You were now a part of an elaborate trap to lure your father in. Bait. The worst position to be in. This was the kind of trouble Loâak would get himself in. It was too late to go back now, the mess youâd gotten yourself into had made itself known.Â
Think, think! How could you get out of this?
Within the unsleeping forestâs nightly noises chirping all around you, a specific call in the air halted your train of thought.Â
It was mom.Â
Your parents were here. But how? How did they know where you were, exactly? Dread and expectation pooled in your heart, coexisting in a nauseating mix.Â
Father must be thinking that you already caused so much trouble, they couldnât know you were also hurt, youâd never hear the end of it.
But there was no time to think, the pain you should have been feeling was ebbing its way into your body, and she was calling in the night to inform you to get ready.
All hell broke loose when the man who held you tight from your queue was shot right from the back of his head with an arrow, collapsing right on top of you.Â
You couldnât get away in time to not be crushed by his dead body and promptly got squished between the mossy soil and him, his gun was hurting you, the wound on your stomach getting in the way of you using your core to push the body off.Â
How many minutes had passed with you struggling to get him off as a hurricane of bullets roared, you didnât know (it hurt, pain was climbing towards the threshold) â mom was able to break free from the weight of a whole AMP suit, as youâd heard as a child, a Naâvi was naturally strong, but you couldnât even crawl out. Panic was a rope tightening around your ribcage as your breathing picked up
All of a sudden, the weight was gone, and the only remaining thing from it was the big gun left from the avatar you found yourself hugging for dear life, eyes wide as saucers. Before you could see whoever had done that, you got hoisted up right back on your feet and tried to run, only to be held tighter and pulled behind the trunk of a tree.
âHey, itâs me, itâs me!â Clumsy, overwrought hands were cupping your cheeks and â and oh, it was your father.Â
You didnât know whether to be afraid or cry from happiness.
Once he was sure you registered it was him by staring intently in your eyes with that edge of the softness youâd missed so much, his hold shifted to your neck and around your shoulders, and he gave you a look-over, checking for any wounds. Too bad what he was searching for was behind the gun you were holding. âAre you hurt?â He shook you when you were too stunned to answer. âAre you hurt at all?â
âNo,â you shook your head automatically, it was weak against the explosions of bullets raining down all around you, but father had picked it up regardless, only focusing on you for the moment.
In the darkness, nobody could see the blood running down your body, that bandage had come out at one point.Â
âOn my mark, weâre gonna run, okay?â He nodded to you, tomahawk axe in hand coated in a dark substance, commanding your full attention. âFollow me. Ready? Ready?â
You werenât ready at all, stomach feeling like it was being stabbed at every heartbeat, but you couldnât tell him that.Â
Instead, you ran like hell, moored by fatherâs taut clutch on your forearm pulling you forward to match his incredible speed dodging roots, bushes and branches.Â
Things stopped moving only when you were enveloped in momâs embrace, consciousness almost flying off from the relief that washed over you. Kisses were peppered along your hairline and forehead, her mumbling your name in gratitude blending with your panting. Tears burned bitter in your eyes, but you couldnât cry, not when father was looking at you like that, chest rising and falling. You instantaneously remembered why you were holding that gun at the intensity he was radiating, tail escaping between your legs and letting mom hold you.Â
At least this way he wasnât able to objurgate you. Â
Over her shoulder, you saw three ikrans instead of two. Heart soaring, you were skipping towards him in pure astonishment in a heartbeat. âHey buddy!â Â
His head lowered down towards you in bird-like movements. In this angle, it looked like he was giving you a razor sharp-toothed big grin.Â
âHe brought us here,â your mother said. The hand you were going to pet the ikran with stopped midway at her dejected tone. âYou have passed Iknimaya, I take it. On your own.â
You didnât know what to say, feeling immense guilt at having made her this disappointed over it. If this was any normal situation, any normal fight at all, you would have shot back with, âWell father told me to do it.â
But you were tired.Â
Your pain threshold was being threatened, and you needed to get to your grandmother before any of your parents saw the situation you were in and this escalated into the worst fight you were going to get into in your entire life.Â
Fatherâs only response was a dead cold, âCâmon, we gotta get outta here.â
He didnât talk to you after that. Not one word.Â
Squatting on an ikranâs back on a flight with an abdominal gunshot wound you were trying to hide was not an option unless you wanted to pass out midair and was looking for a free dive, so you were all but hugging the poor thingâs neck like a monkey, trusting him to follow your parents while you concentrated on mentally fighting to level out the pain.Â
Nonsensical as it was to believe the gun stuck between your ikranâs neck and your stomach was acting as a tampon to lessen the bleeding, you were concerned with how dumb it must have looked to father and mom, how incompetent they must think of you that their daughter didnât even know how to ride right.Â
Got an ikran for nothing.Â
Would they be less proud of you seeing how funny it appeared, nevermind that it was to contain your pain all the while not trying to faint?
But no words were exchanged about it.Â
Father clamping up right after heâd made sure you werenât hurt (yikes) had resulted in this awkward trip succumbing in total silence. They had sandwiched you between them, only necessary space for the ikrans to beat their wings freely left, so close that you could discern the scariest look on father yet, deepening the lines of age in his face while simultaneously expressing his barely contained desire to kill someone.Â
A ticking time bomb.Â
Forget speaking at all, but not only did he never address you until now, he didnât even look in your direction for once. You knew because staring at him for five minutes straight for him to just acknowledge your existence had proven to be unfruitful.Â
And the tears involuntarily streamed down your cheeks with how utterly worthless and alone that made you feel, trapped in this agony you couldnât help but hide because heâd think you didnât deserve to complain after bringing it upon yourself. You would rather bite your tongue and bear the pain than stay dreading his reaction.Â
Yeah, no, he couldnât know.Â
Mom was looking over at you every one minute to make sure you were okay after her ears picked up on your sniffles, arrows of worry shot from her side sinking down your skin every single time, and you hated to make her this way.Â
Your ikran kept comforting you through tsaheylu until you landed.
Father had promptly jumped down, agile and making haste away somewhere, passing you by and giving the cold shoulder. You all but slid off your own ikran, managing to make the gun stay where it should be, as you couldnât help but weakly call out to him for one drop of consolation. âFatherâŠâ
He didnât stop for you, quickening his steps, but his ears twitched, the tail beating the air ferociously halting and lowering before it returned to the previous motions, and those were the only indications that heâd heard it Lima Charlie.
The man just didnât want to talk to you.   Â
And you had to make yourself believe it wasnât the emotional devastation that had you falling down, but the wound sucking out all your energy now that you had gotten to safety.Â
âMaâite?â Mom rushed to you. âMaâite, whatâs wrong? What is it?â
âIâm okay, mom, itâs okay.â You were sitting on the floor, cross-legged. Thank goodness you still had the unbreakable willpower (and not the fear of Eywa put into you by father) to hold your shit together. âIâm okay. Just tired. My knees buckled. Weak, you know?â You swallowed, smiling. âIâm just⊠Just resting.â
Her gaze full of concern studied you, zeroing in on the gun you clung on for dear life against your stomach. Her hands lovingly brushed your hair, gripped your shoulders and elbows even though you were disgustingly clammy all over. It was grounding, anchoring within the ocean of pain washing over you in waves.Â
âOh, why are you sweating so much? Youâre freezing.â You clutched the gun harder in a panic when she grasped it, most likely to put it away. It was the wrong reaction to have, but you werenât exactly in the position to function healthily.Â
Mom, as any other person would, got suspicious from it, her eyes flying up to your owlish ones â blanked out like a frightened animal. âYouâre fine now,â she whispered, thankfully attributing it to how disturbed you must be, still not out of survival mode. âYou are safe, my daughter. Mom is here.â She cupped your cheek, but every touch to your body hurt now, even when it was away from the gaping wound, still gushing blood, trickling down your hips and getting you scared that itâd be discovered once you stood up. âIâm here.â She searched your soul to know just why you were grimacing at her attempts of comforting. âI will take this now, you do not need it anymore.â
You snapped out of the gradually darkening gray haze momâs lulling was laying you down gingerly into. âNo, please donât,â your breathing hitched. She was going to see. She couldnât see. You had to avoid this somehow, as long as you could. Grandmotherâs tent. You would make it, you had to. âIâll⊠Iâll just sit here for a while, okay? I need to just⊠take a small break, and then Iâll⊠Can you go back? Iâll follow later. Father is angry, I donâtââ
âNonsense.â Incredulous and enraged suddenly about something you couldnât put a finger on, and before you could stop her, she tried to haul you up with her by gripping your upper arms â colors exploded behind your eyelids, getting you you to lose consciousness for two seconds, your vision flooding back in a starry kaleidoscope. When momâs voice reached your ears, it was in staccato exclaims your ears were ringing too much to discern. She was shaking you.Â
You werenât able to sit up straight anymore, leaning forward â mom had caught you, utterly confused and panicked at the same time. And then your head was lying on the crook of her elbow resting on her legs sheâd tucked under herself. The moment youâd switched from sitting to straight up lying down was missing from your memories.Â
A baby being cradled. Yes, this is exactly what it was like. Gentle arms surrounded you amidst the pulsating sea of agony.Â
Your body was letting go, but your arms were vices around the gun, still holding that last line. Donât let go. Donât let go. They canât know. Father will be so mad if he learns. ââm okay⊠âst restinââŠâ
When your eyes cleared enough for the surroundings to be only a bit blurry, your mom was looking at the hand sheâd just tried to take away the gun with, caked with your blood that had stained it, out of it and perplexed like she didnât want to believe it.Â
Her gut-wrenchingly stunned numbness sent the misery clawing its way inside into overdrive, pulling your consciousness down to the earth from the clouds it was ascending to. âNot mine,â you forced out, but it came out as begging. Everything was falling apart. The plan was so simple, why couldnât you do anything right? âNot mine. Please. Mom, itâs okay.âÂ
âNoâŠâ Mumbling, she started sharply swaying back and forth, and with one brutally vigorous attack, she ripped the gun away from your arms, and hurled it away â then it was over. Your sob wasnât due to the motion hurting you, it was all entirely for the broken wail of your mother at seeing the bloodied mess, tears spilling from her eyes as she reached down to press down at the pouring liquid. âNo! No! Oh Great Mother! Why did you hide this! Oh, my daughter!âÂ
âNo, mom, Iâm fine, itâs nothing. Not my blood. Not my blood, okay?â You reached up weakly and wiped at her cheeks with trembling fingers, your heart got crushed worse than the pain could beat you down at her grief â lungs constricting. Where was all the air? âIâll get up. Iâll go to grandmother, donât cry. Just resting.â
Frantically looking around, she yelled, âJake!ââ but her voice didnât quite come out, breathy as if sheâd been punched in the ribcage seconds prior.
A heartbeatâs worth of nothingness, after which you were full-on freaking out. Only one thought: Father will be angry.Â
âNo!â You shrieked, and blood swelled in one strong pump against momâs fingers. She looked down at you in anguish, pupils blown wide, arm tightening around you as if you were a flailing bird. âDonât tell him! Donât tell father! Heâll really kill me for thisââ
âNo, no no no,â she shook her head, frenzied, tone cracked from beginning to end. âDo not say that. Donât you ever say thatââ
But you were struggling in her arms, wanting nothing but to crawl away into a hole, no reason registering whatsoever, only instinct. âHeâll be so angry,â you begged, pleading, pink spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth. The sound of gurgling accompanying the words you forced your whole body to form. âYou canât tell him â you canât! He already hates me!â
The more you thrashed around and kicked your legs, the more you bled.
âPlease, Great Mother!â The more mom lost her mind, hissing and howling hysterically, crazed, hugging you tighter and rocking. âJake! Jake! MaâJake!â She put her temple against yours. âNot my daughter, please, EywaâŠâ
Why was she being like this? It wasnât that serious! You were okay!
Delirium claimed you hot as she kept calling his name and her unbreakable hold on you kept you in a cage of a motherâs despair. In your feverish mind, a threat to your life was coming. Weakness spread like wildfire around your body and chipped away at the pain, slowly picking it apart to replace it with drowsiness. âDonât call âim,â you continued to repeat, over and over again. âIâm just taking a break. Donât call him over. Heâs gonna be angry. Heâll hate me. He hates me. Please, mom.â
The sentences slurred together, shortened, wilted away pitifully, your voice died down, tongue deteriorating into only echoing, âHe hates me.â A withered away, old flute.Â
Your ikran was bellowing in the distance and you looked. The torches on cave walls were illuminating him and finally revealing to you his beautiful color scheme.   Â
And then your father was here, falling to his knees right beside you, his glistening wide eyes flying everywhere around your body â tracing all the blood, hands hovering above you as if he didnât know where to start piecing a shattered vase back together.  Â
It was over.
Fully expecting the chastising you were about to receive to shake the floating mountains so bad the enemy would be able to spot you, you began to apologize â pride be damned, this battle be lost, youâd failed anyway. âPlease donât be mad,â you shuddered, meek and unsteady, tunnel vision flickering at the edges only perceiving him. âItâs my faultâIâm sorryâplease donât be angryââ
âStop talking,â he ordered, rough and harsh, eyebrows knitted tightly, and out of breath â probably because of how hard he was trying to hold the anger back. You knew. That had to be it. âDonât speak.â
Ah of course. This was only natural when he had refused to utter a single word at you the whole way, denying you the temporary comfort of a simple glance.Â
Even the hand he pressed down so ruthlessly firm on your stomach it might as well be a boulder pinning you down was meant to be punishment, the whines your unbreathing lungs couldnât stop turned into yowls â you hadnât even noticed your hands were wrapped around fatherâs wrist in an effort to push him away, scratching him, but he only added his other hand on top of the other in return.
âHang on, sweetheart, I got you, please hang on a little longer,â he pleaded, but you were already too far gone, Eywa was cruel to have plugged your ears to the endearment youâd been dying to hear from him for so long, making the last things you were aware father said to you the fact that he didnât even want to hear you talking.Â
And you fulfilled his wish.Â
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#dad!jake x daughter!reader#dad!jake sully x reader#dad!jake sully x daughter!reader#jake sully x reader#jake sully x daughter!reader#sully family x reader#mom!neytiri x reader#neteyam x sister!reader#neytiri x daughter!reader#lo'ak x sister!reader#kiri x sister!reader#irma: đ#đ: light
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take it slow
Kaz Brekker x Fem! reader
request:
hi love!! could you please do a Kaz Brekker x reader where the reader helps Kaz cut his hair?? maybe itâs super hard for Kaz to do it himself for some reason and he finally lets reader help. they take it really slow tho so kaz is comfortable. thanks đ„°đ„°
warnings: not proof-read, canon typical violence, talking of gambling, a whole lot of angsty fluff, Kaz working through his skin aversion/phobia, switches a lot between the reader's pov and Kaz's, I tried to be fancy with the wiring but its meh, mid ending
You sighed, looking out over the bustling tables and colourful clothes that made up the Crow Club. Pigeons and regulars crowd the tables to avoid the pouring rain beyond the doors. Nights like this were freezing, the Ketterdam cold had a way of finding the cracks in buildings. Seeping into homes and putting out fires. Whenever it would get too bad, the Crow Club would get busier. Kaz carefully built the club to be enticing, it was hard to leave the comfort of warmth with weather like tonight.
You were in charge tonight, a steep task seeming the steady stream of people entering the club. Kaz had locked himself in his room at the slat, the last job the crows had gone on went south. Kaz took a bullet to the arm, effectively losing his strength for the foreseeable future. It had made him sourer than usual, he had chewed Jesper out for being careless and letting the job go south.
You looked over at the gunslinger now, sitting at a table with Wylan, the latter trying to stop too much money from being squandered. You had promised to stake him for the night, to make up for the way Kaz had treated him, it was the least you could do. Even so, you still felt the gnaw of guilt watching him at the table. You weren't a fan of gambling, at least not the kind Jesper was. He liked the thrill of the unknown, but he never knew when to stop. At least Wylan was with him now, supervising to be sure Jesper had a good time but not so much that he would regret it.
Nina and Matthias were here tonight as well, they hardly ever stayed around the club, but tonight Nina had convinced Matthias to have a drink and enjoy the night. Inej had been with them at the start of the night but had since slunk off to do what she did best. You hoped Kaz hadn't sent her on any errands tonight, you worried the spider might just get washed off her perch if she was. The steep gables of Ketterdam were treacherous on a clear day, they would be lethal tonight.
You were startled when a shout echoed around the room, the man it came from was clearly unhappy with his hand. He stood from his seat and grabbed the dealer by his collar, shaking and shouting in his face. You rolled your eyes, men who lost at the tables often blamed the dealers for their misfortune. The man yelling had silenced the club, everyone watching as Keeg pushed his way over to the man. Fighting and violence were not allowed in the Crow Club, if you had an issue you took it outside. You watched from the stairs as Keeg seized the man and hauled him away from the tables, tossing him outside into the rain with a terse warning not to stick around. The room was bustling again before the doors even closed.
You climbed down the stairs and headed to where Matthias and Nina were sitting, comfortably tucked into one of the quieter corners of the club. Nina lit up when she saw you, as she always did.
'Are you here to join us?" She asked, gesturing to the empty seat beside her.
You shook your head, "Have you seen Kaz tonight?"
Nina rolled her eyes, "I offered to help him with his arm but he refused." She crossed her arms, "Quite rudely, actually."
You offered her a small smile that felt fake, "Sounds like Kaz."
Nina waved her hand dismissively, taking a sip of her drink.
You turned to look back over the club, knowing you should be focused on the events that transpired here, but being unable to stop your mind wander back to the attic of the slat.
Kaz was not the easiest person to love but you did so anyway. Last night you had tried to offer him comfort, but he had lashed out and left you feeling stupid. You knew he had regretted his words, the moment he said them his eyes gave away his shock. Kaz was all sharp lines and harshness, he had boarded his heart up with cruel words and violent ways. You knew that he would not change at the drop of a hat, but you saw the good in him. The good he spent years burying so deep he couldn't find it himself. So you stayed patient, you gave him space when he needed it. Cautious not to smother him or hasten him when he was not ready. He would let you in, piece by piece until all his walls were gone, and he felt safe with you.
In the last few months since getting closer, Kaz had let you past his defences. He quietly told you small details about himself. How he had grown up outside of Lij, on a farm he had left behind after his father's death. How he was always fascinated with sleight of hand - magic - even as he outgrew childhood. He had even slowly told you about his brother. Only small things, like how he had been 5 years older and had died not long after they came to Ketterdam. You could see how hard it was for him to share those small things, watch him fight with himself about if he should tell you. So in turn, you told him about your own quietly kept secrets. It was a strange transaction, but you could feel the bond between you both strengthening the more you shared in the quiet of Kaz's room.
Nina pulled you from your trance with a hand on your arm, she drew your attention back to the present. You turned to look at her, knowing already she could feel how your heart was racing with worry.
"You should go try again," She said, squeezing your hand.
"I'm meant to be closing."
"We can do it," Matthias replied, "Jesper and Wylan will help."
You looked over to where Wylan and Jesper were, they seemed to feel your eyes on them and they turned and offered smiles.
"Go," Nina urged again, "Before I change my mind and cozy up in bed."
You hugged your friend tight, thanking her and asking her to pass on thanks to Wylan and Jesper.
You forced yourself out the doors before you could dwell too much more on it. Keeg waved you off, letting you know he would keep watch as you were gone.
You shoved your hands into your pockets as you walked, keeping your head down to avoid the rain as much as possible. You walked as quickly as you could, sticking to the side of buildings to avoid getting drenched in the downpour.
As you crossed over the bridge a few blocks away from the slat, Inej fell into step beside you. You were used to the Suli girl appearing at your side, if It were anyone else you would get startled, but Inej was always a comforting presence. Sometimes you felt like she was a saint, the way she watched over you and the crows. You told her this often, reminding her of how appreciative you were to have a friend like her around.
"Kaz hasn't sent you on any jobs tonight has he?"
Inej shook her head, "No."
You let out a breathy laugh, "Then why were you jumping across the rooftops?"
You knew the answer.
"I feel at home on the roofs, it's my own Ketterdam."
You hummed, taking in her answer. Inej told you about the time she spent training on the highwire as a child, how she loved the feeling of being free so high off the ground. She was brave and unwavering like that and you admired her greatly for it.
As you came up on the Slat, Inej disappeared back into the shadows of the night. She would return to the club, or retire to her room, but she enjoyed climbing her way across Ketterdam and you were happy to let her do so.
The slat was mostly quiet when you entered. Anika and a few other Dregs were drinking and conversing quietly as if not to disturb anyone. You knew it was to not bother Kaz. Although Dirtyhands had put in a lot of effort and money into making the slat warm and dry, voices still carried. Most nights you could hear conversations from the bottom floor all the way in Kaz's attic, it was how you knew whenever Jesper got back. He was loud enough to be heard all over the slat.
You started your climb up the stairs, watching your rain-soaked boots take each step with certainty. Although you climbed these stairs multiple times a day, you still felt as if you might trip down them. They were narrow and steep, a recipe for disaster when the rain made your shoes slippery.
Three floors up, you stopped in your room. It was hardly a room and more of a closet, fitting your cot and dresser and not much else. You truly didn't mind, you were right next door to Inej and you only ever came to your room to sleep or change.
You kicked off your boots and stripped off your socks, replacing them quickly with a dry pair to keep your feet warm. You shrugged off your jacket and hung it on the door handle , with any luck it would dry before you would need it again tomorrow. You slipped out of the room and headed back to the stairs to Kaz's room.
Your feet made no sound as you climbed the steps, the silence of your movements allowing you to listen for Kaz in his room. Most of the time you would hear him shuffling through papers, but tonight there was little noise coming from behind the door. As you reached up to knock you prayed he wasn't sleeping.
"Yes?"
You cracked open the door, surprised to find Kaz wasn't sitting at his desk but standing in front of the small mirror in the corner of the room. He had scissors in his good hand, the other shakingly brushing back his hair from his face.
You had noticed how Kaz's hair had gotten much longer lately. The dark strands often blocking his eyes. You knew it drove him crazy, he hated having his hair in his eyes, but he had been too busy to fix it for now.
Kaz shared how he cut his own hair not long ago, you remembered the conversation vividly. He had caught his reflection in the mirror as he washed his hands in the small basin, asking you if you liked his hair.
You had been surprised, Kaz never cared for what others thought of his appearance. You told him the truth, that you loved his hair. Loved how he took time to cut it and try to style it, to you it showed his quiet care. When you asked why he was suddenly concerned, he mentioned how Nina had teased him about it once. It had been a harmless comment, but to him brought back the fact that he feared others touch so much he couldn't bare to let someone else cut it. So it looked rough, uneven in some parts and sometimes much shorter than he intended. You offered to help him when he was ready, but he had yet to take you up on the offer.
"Kaz," You sighed, taking a tentative step forward as if not to startle him. "You should be resting."
Kaz just frowned at his reflection.
His hands were shaking, you noticed. His right hand with the scissors shook so subtly that you might have missed It if you weren't looking. His other hand gripped tight to the side of the basin, as he fought the pain that throbbed down his bicep.
"I can't stand it anymore," Kaz growled, glaring at the hair that kept flopping in his face.
You chuckled, watching the man glower at his reflection with all his barrel brutality.
Crossing the room towards him, you held out your hand, "Let me help."
Kaz stared at your hand like it was foreign. You waited patiently as he had an internal battle. You felt a pang of sympathy when you watched a look of longing pass over Kaz's face. He wanted to let you help, he wanted nothing more than to feel your hands running through his hair with the tender care you always held. But the waters were always there, right below him. If he let you help, they might just swallow him whole.
Finally, Kaz resigned the scissors to you with a sigh.
You smiled at him, "We'll take it slowly." You promised, "If it gets too much, tell me and weâll stop."
Kaz nodded.
He watched you in the mirror as you stood behind him, assessing what he had already done and what you would do. You knew he liked it a certain way, you spent enough time staring at him to memorize how it always looked. You made eye contact with Kaz in the mirror.
"Ready?"
Kaz nodded, taking in a deep breath.
You ran your hand through his hair, combing it back off his face with your fingers. You could almost feel how Kaz relaxed, his tense shoulders falling just a little. You took it as a good sign, continuing to gently pull his hair away from his face and start cutting.
It was slow going, you paused every few minutes to remind Kaz to breathe and release the tension in his muscles. You had no intention of making him suffer through his flashbacks alone. So you muttered reassuring words, offering to take a longer break or to step back for a moment as he processed. Kaz would shake his head, refusing to let you move away in case he would never feel you close again.
Your body was so warm he could feel it through the shirt on his back. You were always comforting and warm like a fire on a cold day. Kaz sometimes felt himself leaning into the feeling, leaning into you. Getting close to someone after so many years of pushing everyone away was terrifying for him. But he was determined to work through it, to be worthy of the gentleness and care you bestowed on him.
When you were done, you ran your fingers through his hair one last time. Your fingertips brushed against the skin on the back of his neck. Typically, the feeling would repulse him, send him spiralling into the frigid waves, but now he felt warmth grow from where you touched. He let out a sigh, revelling in the peace that he felt at that moment. It had been so long since skin-on-skin contact had made him feel something other than repulsion, he had almost forgotten what it was like.
You stepped back, placing the scissors on the desk and giving him space. You were buzzing with emotions and you feared they might just burst out of you if you stayed too close.
The room was silent, the only sound coming from you and Kaz's quiet breaths. You could feel your heart beating erratically, it pulsated through your body as you tried to steady it. Kaz was staring at your handiwork in the mirror, his hands running through it and feeling how it reacted. After a few tense moments, he turned to you, the smallest of smiles on his lips.
Kaz's smiles were hard to earn. Often, it felt like his only facial expression was the stern frown he always wore. But every now and again, in the safety of these four walls, his eyes would relax and his lips pull upwards.
The first time Kaz had smiled at you, you had felt drunk. You could live in that moment for a million years and never grow sick of it. His smile was so gentle, it warmed you from the inside out. You searched for that feeling everywhere, but it only ever came when Kaz smiled.
You felt hopelessly lovesick now, staring into the eyes of the bastard of the barrel. He was so different within these walls, still sarcastic and ill-tempered at times, but also gentle and caring. When he allowed himself the chance to feel safe, you could see the little boy from Lij who loved magic and games.
"Thank you."
You could only just hear the words over the roar of your heartbeat, offering Kaz a tight-lipped smile and a wave of your hand.
"It's no problem."
You both stayed silent for a little longer, looking everywhere but at each other. You were brimming with butterflies, the same giddy feeling you got when you had your first crush.
Kaz stood from his perch, slowly limping over to you. You waited as he did so, worried a move might break the spell that overcame you both. You fiddled with your fingers, trying to calm the thoughts racing through your mind.
Kaz reached out a gloved hand, holding your hand to stop your anxious habit. You had held his hand before, mostly when he wore his gloves so that he wouldn't get too overwhelmed, but it always made you feel safe. The most dangerous man in all of Ketterdam was not dirtyhands here, he was Kaz, gentle and loving.
You watched silently as Kaz pulled his hand away and slipped his gloves off. You knew that he preferred to take things slowly, he needed to take things slowly. You were in no rush, you had all the time in the world for the man before you.
Kaz's hands were still shaky, trembling ever so slightly as he reached for you again. He slowly raised his good hand to your face, hesitating before making contact. His eyes held a question, asking kindly for your permission. You accepted with a small nod, unable to help the tiny smile on your lips. Kaz's hand was colder than you were expecting as he cupped your cheek, you were sure he would be able to feel how hot you were. His slender fingers sat against your jawline, his thumb feathering across your cheekbone, like he was exploring your face. You subconsciously leaned into his hand, closing your eyes and letting a sigh slip from your lips. You could live here forever, in this safety and warmth, tucked away from the prying eyes of Ketterdam.
Kaz took a shaky breath in and you pulled away, startled that you might have pushed him too far. He only smiled, taking a small step forward and keeping his hand on your cheek. You could feel his breath on your skin now, the ghosting of his fingers. It almost felt like a dream. Kaz leaned in a little closer, your foreheads almost touching. His eyes flickered from your lips to your eyes and back.
Kaz wanted nothing more than to close the gap between you and press his lips to yours. You were so warm, your face tucked into his hand like it was made to be held by him. Your breath tickled his skin, it reminded him how you were here, alive. Saints, if he could just lean forward and-
All at once the water was snatching him under. The feeling of your skin turning cold and deathly. He lurched back, holding in his gags of disgust as the freezing waters overtook him.
"Kaz?"
He fell backwards, scrambling to put space between you both as he choked on the waters.
You could only watch as Kaz scrambled away from you, unable to do anything to stop him. He pulled himself as far away from you as he could, becoming a mess of shaking and shuddering breaths. He was panicking, the anxiety and fear clearly written across his features. It hurt, you wanted to help him but you feared you might only make it worse.
You knew you wouldn't be able to leave him in such a state, hyperventilating on the floor of his room. So you slowly lowered yourself to the ground, a good meter away from him to not suffocate him.
"I'm here, Kaz," You said softly, watching over him, "You're safe."
He took another few shuddering breaths, but they were slower than the last. You took it as a sign to keep going.
"Take it slow," You spoke just above a whisper, "I'm not going anywhere."
You stayed a safe distance away as Kaz calmed down, watching over him and offering quiet reassurances as he slowly came to himself. When the panic was gone from his eyes, it was replaced with guilt. You knew how hard it was for Kaz to touch skin, you didn't know exactly why, but you didn't mind taking things slow for him.
You cut Kaz before he could say he was sorry, "It's okay."
Kaz reached for his gloves and shoved them on, "It's not."
You shuffled a little closer, "Kaz." The boy looked up at you with his dark eyes, "Truly, it's alright. I will wait for you. If it takes days, weeks or years, I will be here."
Kaz's eyes were glossy, you had never seen him cry but perhaps this was the closest he ever got.
"You, Kaz Brekker, are worth waiting for."
Kaz looked down, "Rietveld."
It caught you entirely off guard, "What?"
Kaz slowly lifted his eyes to yours, "My real name is Kaz Rietveld."
Your face burst into a bright grin, "Well, Kaz Rietveld, it's nice to meet you."
#kaz brekker#kaz and jesper#kaz brekker x you#kaz brekker x reader#inej ghafa#inej x reader#inej ghafa x reader#six of crows#six of crows x reader#nina zenik#nina zenik x reader#matthias helvar#nina x matthias#matthias helvar x reader#jesper fahey#jesper fahey x reader#wylan hendriks#wylan van eck#wylan x reader#wylan van eck x reader#six of crows nina#six of crows wylan#six of crows jesper#ketterdam#crooked kingdom#sab#soc#sab x reader#sab s2#sab s2 spoilers
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wc: 2.6k
contents: nanami x gn!reader; age gap (they're both adults); kind of a mentor/mentee relationship (but not really); reader has some unresolved issues; (sexual?) tension; seemingly one-sided crush; suggestive; MDNI
a/n: a little something while I'm working on the toji fic. the voices made me write this, I hope y'all will enjoy it. comments and reblogs are very much appreciated! divider credits: @cafekitsune
âAre you hungry?â
A shake of your head, barely noticeable. As expected, Nanami mused. He held down a loud sigh.
The lethargic state in which the mission â the whole day â had left him was wearing him down, and all he wanted to do was lie in his bed and close his eyes. But even then, sleep came hard to him; it hovered above him, a painful tease, but it never dared to give him a sweet release. He couldnât remember the last time he felt fully rested.
âIs there something else you want?â, Nanami tried again, a swift glance towards you.
You only made a dismissive noise in response. The sound almost got drowned out by the heavy rain outside of Nanamiâs car. Every hit of the rain against his windows like a punch, with vigour and frustration behind it. Nanami tried not to let his frustration show.
If there was one thing Nanami didn't lack, it was self-awareness.
He knew that in the eyes of most of his peers, he came across as stern, overly composed and perhaps a bit too serious. More than once did he hear from them that he ought to relax more and be less formal, but despite all that, they still had a certain respect (and some even admiration) for him. He was able to handle majority of his peers, albeit with a headache sometimes.
Yet he - for the life of him - couldn't figure out why you suddenly became a different person when he was near you. He caught a glimpse of how you acted around others â you were relaxed, laughed at some of the jokes that were made and could hold conversations without any problems.
So why did you act so strange around him?
Nanami would even go so far as to say that you seemed irritated by him. Sometimes heâd catch the roll of your eyes when heâd admonish you, or you'd give him a halfhearted nod when heâd share an important piece of information with you, as if you were trying to have as little conversation with him as possible. As if any interaction with him was a pain in the ass. It deepened his frown each time, the ache in his already throbbing head only getting worse.
He was used to a reaction like this towards Gojo, someone who was naturally irritating, but towards him?
Today, you went on a mission together. Initially, you were supposed to go on your own, but the higher ups decided it would be better if Nanami tagged along, in case something happened and you wouldnât be able to handle it.
Nanami told you that he would stay out of the mission - your mission - and that he would only intervene if he thought it was necessary. Until a certain point, you believed that the mission was going well and that it would end in success for you. A way to prove yourself, to show everyone how capable you were. But then fate decided to show its twisted sense of humor today; just when you thought you had exorcised all the curses, another one suddenly came from behind you, catching you off guard. Too fast for you to react in time.
And the worst thing? Nanami had to come to your rescue, even though you nearly had it.
So now you were sitting in his car, parked in front of the apartment complex you lived in and waited. For what? You didnât quite know. Nanami told you to wait until the rain stopped, since none of you had an umbrella with you. How considerate of him, right?
He sat next to you in the driver's seat, not a single strand of his perfectly coiffed hair out of place, not even a small stain on his clean, pressed suit.
With each passing minute, the silence between the two of you only grew more tense. Since all available managers were busy with other sorcerers, Nanami offered to use his car. He didnât expect to do much or any work at all.
Your arms were crossed against your chest as you stared out of the window, chewing on the inside of your cheek and pointedly avoiding looking at the man next to you. You seemed uncomfortable, visibly upset, and that in return made Nanami restless; he tried to remember if he unknowingly offended you earlier. He sometimes tended to be a bit harsh, not feeling and seeing the need to sugarcoat things, but he was not someone who was reluctant to praise. So what did he do to you to make you dislike him?
He cleared his throat, one of his hands loosening his tie. It started to feel awfully tight around his neck.
"If you have a problem, you can tell me. After all, we are both adults here.â
"There's no problem," you muttered, fingers intertwined in your lap. You didnât sound very convincing and your eyes still refused to meet his.
"Clearly there is," he said matter-of-factly, tired of beating around the bush. He wanted your honesty; he could handle it. After all, he had dealt with worse things in his life. "I may not know you that well, but I can see that something is bothering you."
Another beat of silence and Nanami considered dropping the subject and giving up. If you didnât want to talk, then he wonât force you.
You felt like pure shit. The truth was, you definitely had a problem. With him. And even though he probably didn't mean to, he brought out the worst in you, all those ugly, desperate feelings that were buried deep inside your body. You hated the way he nagged you or made you feel stupid and fragile. You usually prided yourself on being confident and collected, but he could make you question yourself and your abilities so easily without even trying. You wanted to be independent, not have to lean on him for support; you were a strong sorcerer, for God's sake. So when he had to step in and rescue you like a damsel in distress, it did more than just irritate you. Simply put, your ego couldn't handle it. And it wasn't even his fault, the cause was entirely your own deep-seated insecurities.
He wasn't much older than you, yet he somehow made you feel like a lost child that lacked decades of experience. It annoyed you, but what annoyed you even more was the strong attraction you felt towards him.
Nanami was intimidating yet gentle, someone with good intentions, probably better than any of the other senior sorcerers you worked with.
You longed for his praise, to hear his approval and let it wrap you in a warm embrace. But you were afraid of falling for it, of becoming dependent. An addict. You could never be casual about such things, the intensity was too strong in your heart, a part of you.
The smell of his expensive cologne made your head spin, the urge to nuzzle your face against his neck and breathe in his comforting, masculine scent growing harder and harder to resist. It was like fighting a natural instinct, every fiber of your body yelling at you to give in.
But what made it even harder was the simple fact that he would never see you in that light. Nanami was too good a man, you knew it, everyone knew it. It was supposed to lessen your attraction, but somehow it made it stronger. Maybe there was something seriously wrong with you.
Averting your gaze from the window, you couldn't help but let your eyes linger on his thighs, the thickness of them stretched across the seat, muscles straining against his tight slacks. You swallowed as your mind began to wander.
You imagined his big hand, the same one he used to exorcise curses, gently caressing the nape of your neck, the other one cupping your cheek so tenderly, as if you would crack under the slightest pressure, thumb brushing under your eye. The band of his watch would dig lightly into your skin, leaving faint marks that you'd only notice later when you looked in the mirror.
The sounds he'd make, a hungry humming vibrating against your lips as his mouth would fit perfectly against yours in a desperate rhythm, as if he'd waited far too long to devour you. A choked moan as your hand pressed against his thigh to stabilize yourself, nails digging into the fat there as the muscles twitched under your burning touch.Â
The deep blush that would color his cheeks, spreading across the bridge of his nose as his breath hitched. The growing bulge between his thighs that would ache and harden as you brushed your fingertips over it, his hips lifting up and chasing for more.
You wanted to see him crumble because of you, to succumb to his desires and abandon his principles. To bring all the pleasure that brew underneath his skin to a boil. But you weren't naive; you knew it would only remain a distant dream, a hidden fantasy of yours. Because it was Nanami.
"I'm just exhausted," you finally responded with a shake of your head, daring to briefly meet his piercing brown eyes, rid of his glasses. You watched how his lips pressed into a flat line, his head tilted the slightest bit. You thought the expression on his face could be concern.
"Then you should take it easy," Nanami said, so frustratingly considerate. "You may be an adult, but you're still too young to suffer all this stress."
Immediately, as if he had pressed a trigger point, a groan left your mouth at his words and your head slammed back against the car seat rather dramatically. Your fingers pinched the bridge of your nose.
"Stop treating me like an incompetent child. I can handle this perfectly fine. Seriously, you're acting as if Iâve just started as a sorcerer, even though I've been doing this for several years now."
Nanami went still and blinked. His brows furrowed, the shadows on his face darkened, and he shifted in his seat to face you properly. "I do believe you're competent. You're talented, but that doesn't mean you should disregard your own limits."
Your eyelashes fluttered and you peered at him from the corner of your half-lidded eye.
"I just want you to take me seriously."
"I do. And I don't want you to end up like me; it's my duty as your senior to make sure you have it better than I did."
"But it makes me feel like shit," you bit back, all the frustration pouring out of you like an uncontrollable body of water. You couldn't hold back anymore, the gates now opened. "You may have no ill intentions, but that doesn't mean your actions can't negatively affect me."
You waved a hand at him. "And then you had to save me today. I really thought I could do it for a moment, but of course I screwed up. And you had to clean up after me."
"You did not mess up," Nanami insisted stubbornly.
âOh, câmon,â you scowled. âI always seem to do so in your eyes.â
"I never thought of you that way," Nanami replied, the tension in his face softening. "I didn't know you felt that way."
"Well," you murmured, rubbing the back of your neck. "I guess that's on me." You exhaled, head tipped back. "It's just hard, you know? To show any sign of weakness."
"But it's not weakness. You're just being human."
Then he reached his hand up, and you watched as he placed it on your shoulder, the size of his hand dwarfing it. The warmth of his careful touch made your skin tingle through your clothes, his thumb rubbing lightly against the tingling spot. In just a few seconds, you found it harder to breathe, the air too stuffy in his car, which seemed to have shrunk.Â
A casual touch, you thought. Nothing special. But the way it consumed you and festered through your body was anything but casual.
"You did well today,â Nanami said pointedly, an attempt to calm and reassure you. The deep timbre of his voice crossed the small distance between you and traveled through your body, tightening the knot in your stomach. Your fingers pressed into the side of your seat. You held his piercing stare, fearing for a moment that he could read you every thought and figure you out. Your tongue poked out to wet your lips. A weak nod was all you could give him. Â
He removed his hand, slowly, and for a fleeting moment you thought that his fingers lingered on you for a little too long before he resumed his former position and his hand returned to his leg.
You subtly shook your head again â clearly your exhaustion was taking over you and clouding your mind. You had to get yourself together. Maybe a short trip to Shoko would help.
"How do you deal with all this stress?" you asked, more calmly now that the cat was out of the bag.
He made a sound, a mix of a huff and a sigh. âI donât deal with it; Iâm afraid it will always accompany me.â
You hummed, tilting your head to rest on your shoulder. Your eyes flickered back to him. "Sounds exhausting. Have you tried anything to relieve the stress?"
âI donât think thereâs something that could relieve it. I guess thatâs just the price I pay as a sorcerer.â
"Really?" you asked, sounding skeptical. "Is there really nothing that would help relax your body? Take your mind off all this jujutsu stuff?"
His lips parted, words sitting right on the tip of his tongue, but they closed again. Instead, âNo, I canât really think of anything.â Â
âHmh, but that way you might die from the stress, and not because of a mission. That would be an unimpressive way to go.â
To your surprise, he let out a snort, the ghost of a thin smile forming on his face.
âYouâre probably right.â
âMaybe I can help.â
He didnât respond right away. Then, âHow?â
"By locking Gojo up for a few hours. Or a few days."
The amused glint in the brown of his irises returned. He rubbed his eyes.
"I'm afraid that won't do much. Knowing him, he'd find a way to be annoying from wherever he's locked up."
You were about to reply, hoping to keep the conversation going, but then you looked outside; the rain had stopped. All that remained was the dark sky. Your teeth sank into your lower lip, hesitating.
"âŠI have to go now. Itâs late and you probably also want to go home."
He gave you a curt nod. His eyes were now focused forward, an unreadable expression crossing his face.
You opened the door and climbed out of the seat, your feet already on the ground, before you turned your head slightly, giving Nanami a view of your side profile.
ââŠthank you, Nanami.â And Iâm sorry, you wanted to add. But you werenât there yet. Your stupid pride still had a firm grip on you and not even the little conversation you had could get you out of it. Perhaps you needed more time.
âOf course.â
As you closed the door and started to walk away, you didn't get to see him slump back into his seat with a heavy sigh, a hand running down his face, the tips of his ears turning a crimson color as shame coursed through his veins.
You would be the death of him, he was sure of it.
#jjk x reader#nanami x reader#nanami kento x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#nanami x you#nanami kento x you#suggestive
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your heart, a sonnet
Author!Joel Miller x F!Reader
summary: you discover thereâs more to your boyfriend than you realize
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, no outbreak/modern AU & Joel has both his daughters, surprise hidden identity reveal, grumpy but soft!Joel who has a secret love language of writing and love letters, mentions of unspecified age gap (readerâs age is not mentioned but Joel is older & in his 50âs), light discussion of reader and Joelâs insecurities, reader is addressed as darlin/honey/baby, a few spicy moments where Joel gets handsy
word count: 5.3k
a/n: I know, I know⊠this doesnât seem like the typical Joel fic but i blame Pedroâs look at the Hollywood star walk of fame ceremony because it immediately made me think âoh thatâs Joelâ and now here we are lol I couldnât have done this without my forever babe @the-wild-wolves-around-you and i canât thank her enough along with @ahauntedcowboy for always letting me scream about all my wild ideas, and now to you, if youâre reading this too I also canât thank you enough âĄ
You first met Joel at a bookstore.
The weekend after your birthday you went in to treat yourself and wandered into the records section of the store. As you flipped through the selections, the sudden sight of a Fleetwood Mac album had you inhaling sharply in surprise.
âSâgood one.â Thatâs when the sudden smooth drawl of a southern accent floated out to you.
A few steps beside you stood an absolutely gorgeous man. The evergreen plaid button up shirt he wore flattered him as if it was made to be only worn by him. Rugged and distinguished, he seemed like a romance hero plucked straight out from one of the books among the shelves. You even blinked a few times wondering if he was real.
âIf you donât take it, might have to fight ya for it.â Even with his gruff low voice, an underlying teasing nature radiated friendly and light.
Now, many months later, a piece of you believes you might have fallen for him right then and there.
Joel is a rare beautiful soul of a man. Heâs strong and a bit rough around the edges. He used to work as a contractor, even managed to build a very reputable business with his brother. His hard work remains effortlessly etched into his hands that now type editing books, his current job. Heâs kind, so deeply loyal and loves fiercely.
With a yawn, you slip out of bed to pull on his cozy Texas longhorn shirt.
Heading downstairs, you walk among the clouds.
Instead of working at his office desk, Joel sits at the dining table typing away. Just seeing him wear his reading glasses sends a delicious desire trickling through you like a soft rain.
His dark earth eyes flicker up over the edge of his laptop and his gaze softens.
âWas wonderinâ when you were gonna wake up.â His wonderfully smooth as molasses voice makes you want to get caught up in its sticky sweetness.
âItâs not even that late. Youâre one who woke up wanting to get work done on a Saturday.â You scoff playfully yet press your lips to his, a soft good morning greeting.
âBesidesâŠwhoâs the reason I slept in so soundly, hm?â You smile against Joelâs lips that now twitch with a smirk.
His large warm hand slowly creeps up against your bare leg and rubs soft against your skin. After a few sleepy kisses, Joelâs tongue smoothly slips into your mouth trying to now consume you with a syrupy heat.
Joel pulls you down onto his lap. Your hands run up his chest to his cherub curly gray hair. His lips leave yours to start nipping at your jaw.
âWhat happened to working, cowboy?â You sigh softly.
âCome keep me company, darlinâ.â He breathes out and any hope of maybe making breakfast is happily forgotten.
The rest of the morning unfolds at a nebulous pace you bask in.
When a late brunch is finished and you start cleaning up the kitchen, Joelâs warm solid hands map out your hips with other plans in mind. He slides behind you, a towering comfort that you lean back against.
âYouâre extra handsy today Mr. Miller.â You tease.
âI can stop?â Joel offers while his scruffy beard scrapes a path against your skin. Against you, his broad shoulders, his wonderfully built frame, wraps you in his protective cover.
You hum a content no and move your hands over his now.
âJust wanna enjoy being with ya before I get busy.â Joel mutters while his hand slides down your cozy lounge shorts.
You had forgotten about his upcoming work plans.
You already want to mourn the impending weekend without him, but that can wait for another day. Especially when his thick fingers delicately, so sinfully, run up and down your underwear playfully touching you.
But then that weekend arrives and it brings a hollowness.
Lounging on the couch back at the apartment you share with your best friend, you force yourself not to text Joel again. Heâs busy and you know this. So you vow to hold all your yearning and longing chained inside like a Jane Austen heroine.
âAre you done sulking?â Your best friend teases from the kitchen and you glare at her from the couch.
âI get it, being awake from your hunky handsome older boyfriend is hard. What will you ever do?â She snickers playfully. Youâre tempted to throw the nearby couch pillows at her.
âWhat did you say his job was?â She asks.
âHe used to be a contractor, but now heâs a book editor.â You answer.
âA hardworking hot Texas cowboy who reads and is a good man? Yeah, keep him locked up.â Your best snorts and you understand exactly what she means.
Fanged temptation claws at you more to text him again. Joel promised he would call you tonight and you donât doubt him. But you didnât realize how badly youâd missed him.
âAlright,â your best friend declares. âNo more moping! Iâm dragging you out with me to that book signing Iâve been talking about.â
Sheâs been obsessed with this apocalyptic novel series for so long. You happily tag along and even perk up when you see how excited she gets.
âAnd the author is finally doing a book tour! Heâs kept his identity hidden this entire time so I wanna get a chance to maybe just even see him!â Your best friend gushes the entire time she drives you both to the bookstore the signing would be held.
Just so happens itâs the same bookstore where you first met Joel. A deep surge of affection swallows you whole and you float on blissful lovesick nostalgia.
Then the impressive line already waiting outside the front doors stuns you.
âI told you! Itâs a big deal! Plus the series is so good.â Your best friend exclaims. She has been trying to get you into the series for a while.
The core of it focuses on two young girls who manage to survive an apocalyptic fungal zombie outbreak. The series follows the girls growing up, the journey to live with each other, and how it slowly bonds them as sisters.
âI heard theyâre trying to make a Netflix series on it.â Your friend adds hopeful.
You canât help but snag your best friendâs book copy she also hopes will get signed. Flipping through the front pages you land to the dedication page.
âTo my baby girls, this will always be for you two.â
The author must have based the series on their daughters. Thatâs adorable.
Now curious, you flip to the first chapter.
âAfter seeing the end of the world, after witnessing the carnage of life consume itself, Ellie thinks sheâs seen it all.â
Your best friend's sudden excited laugh pulls you out of the book. Sheâs talking with the other fans in line and you decide to join in.
Everyone discusses how worth the wait will be and how most of them even purchased the newest released book to make sure they reserved a slot for the signing.
âSo whyâs the author finally doing a face reveal?â You ask quietly not wanting to seem too out of place.
âSo apparently,â your best friend begins in her hush about to spill the good gossip voice. âSome random ass moron on Twitter came out and said they were the true author. It became a whole messy issue of who it really was.â
Your best friend goes into more detail about how even a couple of online sites had articles on it.
âThatâs awful.â You sympathize with the author. It mustâve been a headache trying to enjoy the peace of anonymity only for it becoming something used against them. You can only imagine how heartbreaking it was to see others steal and take credit for your work.
Like a surprise strike of lightning, an electric excitement suddenly breaks through the air.
Glancing up, you watch the line rapidly move towards the front doors. Time to go in.
Unfortunately, the main seating for the reading and q&a fills up fast. The bookstore though manages to wrangle the remainder of the crowd that can fit on the first floor towards a section where they can watch. Itâs more than enough for your best friend whoâs about to burst with anticipation. The buoyant commotion in the room even pulls you into its current and you get excited to see the new surprise author.
Soon a chic handsome older looking man, the moderator of the event, scurries to the front of the gathered group.
Warmly he begins the introduction to the writer.
First, writing sweet childrenâs books, stories for his daughters, those works became the authorâs first publications. After that he navigated apocalyptic writing and his hit series has earned critical acclaim.
âSimply known as the anonymous writer J Miller. Iâve had the greatest pleasure to know this man as both his friend and now agent and Iâm beyond proud to introduce him to you. Everyone please help me in welcoming J Miller!â
The thunderous applause and screams of excitement galvanize the entire room.
Then Joel walks out from the side.
Your heart instantly leaves your body.
For a moment you think your lovesick yearning heart has you slightly projecting Joel in any man you might see.
But the minute you focus, truly watch him slide into the chair, you see him.
Soft gray grown out curls, a strong beautiful nose, the patchy beard with the spots you love to kiss, and his reading glasses - the ones heâs so self conscious about because of how they make him look âso good damn old,â yet you love how they distinguish and elevate his appearance. You even remember the first time Joel wore them while he read waiting for you.
Truth makes its way into your heart.
Itâs Joel.
The famous mystery author is your Joel.
âThanks Frank.â And when he takes the mic, thanking his agent, his slick southern sunset voice melts the crowd.
âSo, uh heâs gorgeous?!â Someone behind you squeals.
âWho wouldâve thought heâd be this hot?!â Someone adds.
The whispers and mummers swarm like wasps buzzing all around you and you want to swat at them.
You canât wrap your mind around this or the amount of emotions rushing through you. You feel separated from your body, floating detached from the scene and trying to gather yourself back.
Why didnât he tell you?
Did he not trust you?
Joel suddenly laughs at something Frank says, that gruff wonderful laugh you hear after you show him a ridiculous video or his daughters tease him. It snaps you back into awareness.
âHeâs about to read a section!â Your friend giddily whispers under her breath
Now you fully focus on this man, this almost stranger.
Heâs so handsome it isnât fair. He looks like a distinguished professor and your throat tightens seeing how broad his shoulders look in the dark casual suit jacket he wears.
âOne of my favorite parts.â He admits quietly. âItâs when Ellie and Sarah realize they can make it outta Pittsburgh together.â
His daughters. He named his characters after them.
Joel clears his throat and begins.
He reads the passage with a magnetic cadence. The words slip from him like the smooth drink of whiskey that lingers on your tongue. When he finishes, an ache twists in your chest.
The applause he gets is shatteringly loud. The smallest bit of pride does float through you. But confusion drowns it out.
The floor now opens to quick questions. Some are about the book itself and the certain decisions made writing wise. Others are obviously about why he stayed hidden for so long.
That one perks you up quickly.
In such typical Joel fashion, he shrugs.
âJust couldnât figure out Twitter, sâall.â
Everyone laughs at his playful reply and you do as well, but it sounds hollow and watery.
Soon enough the last question arrives.
âDo you ever see yourself writing for any other genres? I mean, weâve seen horror and some moments of romance in the series. So Iâm just curious if youâd write anything else?!â The lady asks brightly and now you simply settle your thoughts aside to listen.
Joel chuckes, a bit breathless and his gaze drops. This entire time heâs teetered between a sly southern charm thatâs hypnotized you, to being guarded almost a bit nervous.
But now a boyishly hesitant grin falls over him and itâs so familiar.
âUh, guess romance would be the next Iâd maybe try.â He answers low, bashful.
The crowd erupts into fangirl like shrieks.
âRight?! I keep saying he doesnât know the potential he has if he became a romance writer!â Frank, who has such a bright and lovely personality, adds.
Too many emotions clash in you.
You wonder if he wants to explore romance writing because of you?
Or a much harsher voice creeps out from the back of your mind whispering maybe youâre just being used for source material.
You quickly stomp those thoughts away.
The rest of the event shifts to the signing and you walk in a sort of guided daze.
âYou okay?â Your best friend asks gently, noticing your slight mood change.
You donât have the heart to tell her the truth yet. This was something she had been looking forward to and you didnât want to ruin her excitement or experience. So you wearily just smile and tell her your head simply started hurting.
She sympathetically nods.
âThankfully we wonât be waiting too long.â She adds and explains how the signing would be called by groups.
âWe might not have gotten seats, but we did manage to sneak into group A for the signing.â She grins proud and it lifts your spirits.
The line curls against the sides of the bookshelves blocking your view of Joel. It becomes both a blessing and a curse.
Maybe you should wait in the car for his and your sake?
However, something inside you slightly bitter, raw and wanting answers, decides to stay. Besides you, your dear friend tries to keep herself calm but you can sense her bubbling nervous energy.
âIâd be calmer if he wasnât so damn attractive.â She hisses and a jealous flare gently rises in you.
âJust think,â you reassure her. âHeâs probably just as nervous as you.â
The relieved comforted grin she gives you makes staying worth it. But then all of that flies out the window the closer and closer you get to Joel.
Petrified dread claws its way in when you realize your best friend is next in line.
âHe looks kinda familiar now that weâre closer.â The casual comment your friend says makes your heart sink.
âMaybe.â You mutter.
The times Joel has been to your place your roommate, your best friend, has been either at work or sleeping. You can only think of the first instant you introduce Joel to her when he picked you up on a date.
Your eyes flicker straight to Joel.
His hair seems so perfectly curled and his dark jacket highlights his wonderful grays.
Thankfully, any discussion of who he might look like gets squashed because your best friend gets called next in line. She turns to you squeaking excitedly and you beam back bright.
Joel lifts his eyes up, like a true southern gentleman wanting to give someone his full attention.
You wait on the side and watch the interaction unfold. Joel chuckles at something your best friend says and youâre glad sheâs enjoying herself.
The book signing is done so fast. In a blink, itâs finished. With her newly signed book, your friend turns to you. She makes a slightly embarrassing but endearing noise of excitement that has you laughing.
Thatâs when your eyes flicker over to Joel and your gaze locks with his.
Instantly, Joelâs handsome face drops. His gorgeous earth eyes widen as he immediately recognizes you. His mouth falls open slightly and a flash of something close to fear fills the depths of his eyes.
He breathes out your name on a shaky exhale.
Everything seems to slow and stop. You donât know what to say. So all you do is weakly smile.
The fleeting moment fades. The next group in line already giggles moving towards the table.
Timeâs up. Turning on your heels to leave with your friend, Joel calls out to you, calls your name.
âWait!â
You freeze.
Glancing back at him, Joelâs eyes pin you on the spot. An unspoken heaviness hangs in his deep eyes while he stares intently at you.
âItâs okay, weâll talk later.â By some strange possession of slight bravery, or maybe delusion, you manage to speak.
But itâs all you can say and itâs all you can do before Frank, Joelâs agent, slides in to whisper something to him.
The moment again shatters.
Your best friend however grills you the rest of the day
Thatâs when you pull out your phone. You show her a photo you secretly took of Joel. Itâs one where heâs adorably glaring at his ipad while he tried ordering take out for dinner.
Your best friend shrieks. âHeâs your boyfriend?!â
He is.
Your boyfriend, Joel, is a writer, a very famous best selling author.
And that weight yanks you under a dangerous current you canât seem to swim against.
Even after lunch, even getting back to your apartment and trying to settle your thoughts, your emotions are still so tangled.
You mindlessly scroll through your phone for the rest of the day and a blink, you notice itâs already early evening. Your plan to stay sulking is ruined when your phone starts ringing so loud.
Itâs Joel.
âHello?â You answer as composed as you can.
âDarlin?â His beautiful rich voice sounds hesitant and guarded.
âHi.â You reply back quietly.
âCan we talk?â He asks just as low.
You agree, expecting to have the discussion on the phone. Except a knock taps on your apartment door and scares you right out of your body.
Ever proactive, ever the man who takes action, Joel stands waiting for you when you open the door.
Youâre thankful more than ever that your best friend went to the gym for the evening.
âWanna sit outside for a bit? Maybe get some air? Sâreally nice outside today.â He offers gentle.
Heâs breaking up with you. Thatâs what your mind jumps to.
At least the weather is surprisingly kind this early evening.
Youâve sat out here on your apartmentâs decent sized balcony with Joel before. But now the energy between you and him shifts strangely.
The sky stretches above a soft sherbet orange. A breeze comes, thankfully not too cold, but you think about maybe heading in to grab a blanket.
Joel however quickly slings off his jacket and drapes it over you. Always the gentleman.
The smell of his cologne, so comforting and masculine, wraps around you like a cloud.
You thank him with a soft small smile and Joel nods. Then he sighs and leans forward on the folding chair.
âAlways loved the outdoors.â He begins, a small olive branch of a conversation to break the tension. âThe girls and I love hiking the trails out by the lake. You ever been?â
You shake your head no.
âMaybe one day we can all go together.â The comment holds hope, a delicate thread of it. Yet you catch the hesitation.
Your eyes flicker to him, confused and cautious.
âWait, you arenât breaking up with me?â You blurt out, maybe just wanting to get it over with. You hate the way your voice cracks slightly.
Joel, with his beautiful concerned wide eyes, snaps his face to you.
âWhat? Honey no. Thought maybe youâd be the one maybe tryinâ to break up with me.â Joel, who Sarah jokes about how some of their neighbors question if heâs perpetually grumpy, stares at you with a tenderness that melts you to your core.
You canât help but laugh watery.
âWhy dâya think Iâd want to end things with you?â He asks patiently.
You can think of so many.
Heâs a famous writer whoâs about to maybe become an online sensation. Heâs older than you, wiser and seasoned. Heâs a full on father with young teenage daughters.
So you reveal your heart to him and all the fears that dwell in its shadows. You wipe away a few tears that manage to spill out.
Joel moves to hold your hands in his, a guarded warmth and protection keeping you stable.
With a heavy sigh, Joelâs attention fully focused on you.
âHoneyâŠIâm so sorry for not telling you about my work, about me, sooner.â He earnestly apologizes and his words drip with comforing earnesty.
Now his gaze drops down to where your hand sits in his.
âDidnât want it complicatinâ things with us. I knew I had to tell you eventually. But reallyâŠI was worried youâd see me differently once you knew. I know I donât seem like the writinâ type anyway.â He mutters and you miss the hint of embarrassment coloring his tone.
You squeeze his hands.
This could never make you look at Joel in a negative light. If anything, you now feel proud knowing heâs a writer. You do explain your worries though and the ache you felt knowing he kept his from you.
âI know darlinâ and I promise,â he squeezes your hands now. âNo more secrets between us.â
âYouâŠusâŠmeans more to me than youâll know.â He adds and you draw his hands up to your mouth.
You kiss his worn hands, his hard working beautiful hands that now move to hold your face so tenderly in their grasp. His thumb strokes your bottom lip delicately as if youâll disappear from his sight.
âCan I kiss ya baby?â
You nod and in that same breath Joel pulls you towards him. He kisses you light, delicate enough that you feel so precious and treasured within his hold.
It seems like such a simple small kiss but it soaks into your bones.
You have so many questions. And as much as youâd like to make out with your boyfriend on the balcony, youâd like answers.
So you pull away and stand up.
Joel looks adorable as confusion paints his face.
âDonât worry Iâm just getting us a blanket.â You grin at him as you sling on his jacket claiming it as your own.
Blanket in hand you now curl up with him in the lawn chair, thankful for its sturdiness and cozy size. Your heart soars at how quickly Joel pulls you into his arms and basically onto his lap.
It feels like itâs been months since youâve last been with him, or maybe thatâs just how exhausting today was.
Joel sighs content and pleased once you fully rest against him. Hesitantly you ask if itâs okay if you can talk about him, about his work.
âAsk away honey. Iâll tell ya everything nâ anything.â He says firm.
You grin and your thumb starts stroking the back of his hand.
âSo what made you decide to reveal yourself now? I heard there was an issue about someone saying they were you?â You ask, thinking of the discussions earlier with your best friend.
âYeah..â Joel now sighs tired with an ancient weariness that settles over his handsome face.
âSarah was the one who saw it first on Twitter or wherever it was.â He adds with a grumble.
Your heart aches knowing one of the girls saw it first.
âDidnât help either that I ainât online. So it became a whole fuckinâ mess we had to deal with it a couple months back.â
A light bulb goes off inside your brain.
âWas that when you said you had to visit a family friend out of town?â You connect the dots.
âYup.â Joel nods. âWent to visit Frank, my agent, to try and figure this shit out. Couldâve let it all maybe die down but⊠ya know.â He huffs and you understand completely.
Joel is too stubborn, a bit too prideful. You almost snort amused just over the thought of him trying to let the situation blow over.
âFrank wants to meet ya by the way.â Now his voice dips with a bashful tone while his hands begin softly stroking your thighs.
âIâd love to meet him too.â You truthfully tell Joel.
âSo, are you going to be online now? Should I start making secret accounts to follow you?â You now tease and Joel barks a beautiful amused laugh.
âBaby, Iâm over 50. The only apps I need on my phone are candy crush and ESPN. Ainât got the time or patience for social medias.â
Now youâre the one laughing.
It feels freeing, blissful, like this is the first moment youâre spending time with him all over again. Yet, thereâs a deeper sacred connection that settles.
You canât help but kiss him again and Joel eagerly welcomes you on his lips.
Now his lips move fervently, almost possessively, against yours, licking and trying to consume you. A small moan squeaks out of you.
âCome on baby,â he mutters, shifting you against his lap so that you fully feel his hardness straining against his pants. âWanna taste ya.â
Youâre thankful you manage to drag him back inside because you canât imagine getting intimate with Joel on the balcony. Well, at least not yet. But that was a thought for another day.
Now in the afterglowâs soft relaxing peace you wish for more time with him.
But Joel must sense that ache too.
âSâlate honey. Come back home with me. Even if itâs just for the night.â He mutters against your lips and you canât deny him. You donât want to deny him or the aching tug pulling you to him.
That night you fully embrace every inch of the man Joel Miller is and let a dizzying adoration for him swallow you whole.
The next morning, in the soft early still dark shade of his room, Joel wakes you with a tender kiss to your forehead.
âGotta go meet with Frank for the day. Iâll see ya later, honey.â He mutters against your cozy heated skin.
You hum a soft agreement and sleepily wish him a goodbye before falling back to sleep. After that, you wake up later to a colder and empty bed.
Tugging on another one of Joelâs shirts you head downstairs already missing his presence.
And when you get downstairs, there on the table sits the most gorgeous floral arrangement. Its beautiful vibrant blooms make your heart flutter so fast against its cage.
A folded paper sits beside the flowers. Your name is written on the front in Joelâs slightly chicken scratch like handwriting.
You scramble fast to grab it.
A letter, heâs written you a letter.
âHoney,
I know Iâve already apologized and youâve forgiven my old undeserving ass.â
You snort at that line but continue on.
âBut I just wanted to fully apologize to you again. Might take me a while until I stop, but just be patient with my old bones yeah?â
You would. Your heart would and will always wait for him.
âDoesnât seem like it but, I aint that good at talking about things, about my feelings. Shocker right?â
You smirk. You know he isnât good with words - thatâs why it almost feels ironic and a bit unreal that heâs an author.
Youâve discovered Joel shows his affection through his actions.
He spent an entire day rearranging a business scheduling conflict just so that Tommy didnât have to worry about it. Joel never missed a single one of Ellieâs basketball games. Sarah only prefers a certain type of orange juice and Joel never fails to only get that one.
The first few weeks you started dating Joel you got sick with a nasty cold. He dropped off a whole bag of various items like tissues and cough drops. It was then you knew his heart shines through his actions.
He sometimes surprises you with an order from your favorite take out spot. He never lets you touch a door, always opening them for you instead. Heâs the most generous lover and never fails to remind you of how tender, how consuming, his passion can be.
Joel does grumble, sometimes even seems grouchy, but he loves fiercely.
And now here he is showing you this side of him, this form of himself as a writer.
So you return to reading his letter.
âI got into writing because it helped me process all my emotions, my thoughts, the good and bad days - everything. And sharing my writing with others, especially with someone as important as you, still makes me feel so vulnerable. Funny how that worked out though huh? Guess fate wanted to drag my ass and make me face my fears and vulnerability and whatnot.â
Someone as important as you - The line makes your heart flutter.
âI know I told you the reasons why I didnât tell you. But another reason was because I was afraid.
I was afraid of how much you mean to me. Telling you about this part of me would be taking a bigger step. And it scared me shitless. Cause darlinâ I havenât felt this way in a very long time. Like, as Ellie loves to say, in such a long time that âdinosaurs werenât even fossils.â
That makes you laugh a bit watery but you let his words carry you again.
âYou make my damn heart race when you smile. I get so worked up just seeing you walk around my house as if you were always meant to be here. And I didn't want to lose that either. I still donât.
You feel like a bright future, like waking up after a cloudy week and the sun greets you so nicely. And I just wanna stay in that warmth, your warmth.
Yeah sorry, that line might be too romance novel writer for my leagueâŠbut like I said Iâm thinking about it. And itâs because of you.
We said no more secrets yeah?
So Iâm not lying when I say youâve become so god damn important to me. And I wanna see more days with you, as many as youâll have with me.
Fuck. This damn letter already feels too long and I hate my old ass for rambling and maybe not making sense. But I adore you honey. Plain in simple.
And Iâm just gonna leave it at that.
Donât miss me too much and Iâll see you soon.
P.S I picked that bookstore as the tourâs first stop here because itâs where I met you⊠and Iâll always be grateful for that
-Joelâ
You now fight back an absolute oceanâs worth of adoration for this man.
Tears clog your throat and you try not letting them flood your vision, but itâs so hard. So hard when youâre this head over heels.
You donât want to say it yet, and you donât know if heâs even ready to say it, but the emotion filling you like a newborn star feels like love.
You barely manage to send out a text thanking him and hoping youâll get to talk to him soon.
Joel, ever the endearing man he is, replies back with a simple heart emoji and you laugh.
You really might love this man.
And you hope, you so brightly hope, that he maybe loves you too.
You think of his book series, of how he became a writer simply wanting to tell his daughters stories. Those stories grew out of his love for them and now he gets to crystallize that among his pages.
You realize how writing truly is its own form of love.
After all, what better way for a writer to show their love, their heart, than to capture you in their words?
You think thatâs where writers must live now, in the heart. Or maybe - your maybe gruff handsome one just does. And you happily welcome Joelâs place in yours and hope he resides there forever like a love poem etched into your very soul.
#hello hi if you read this know me and author Joel are writing you a love letter#Joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#author!joel miller#Joel miller fic#Joel đ€
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love and power
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prelude
âask for forgiveness,
never permission.â
Alastor x Fem!Reader ; MDNI 18+ ; [y/n] used sparingly ; Alias in Hell is Sylvie
tags: acid rain wound, cannibals living their best lives in cannibal town, slow burn eventual: smut, violence, toxic themes
word count: 1.7k
hello world! i currently have alastor brain rot and felt compelled to jump back into writing fan fiction. iâm a little rusty and iâm not sure how many parts there will be; i wonât deny that this is purely self-indulgent but i hope you enjoy all the same :)
prelude ; chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three ; chapter four ; chapter five ; chapter six ; chapter seven ; chapter eight ; chapter nine ; chapter ten: part one ; chapter ten: part two
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Hell wasnât what you had expected it to be. It was worse.
Thoughts of your grandmother rose to your mind, despite how desperately you tried to push them down. âHell is the absence of God,â she would always say after one of her famous rants. A warning you perhaps would have heeded, had it been coming from a place of love instead of moral superiority.Â
You had seen her on the streets of Hell a few times now, always sure to avoid catching her attention. The warm pleasure that bloomed in your chest was too precious to give up, despite knowing how good it would feel to rub her fate in her face. A lot of good all those Sunday mornings had done her, haughty bitch! You wondered how often your grandmother laid awake at night, desperate to know how she had ended up here. A wicked grin spread across your lips, revealing milky-pink fangs.
It was hard not to imagine the look your father would have given you if you could tell him she was here. He would definitely have scolded you, but you knew a small part of him would be amused. If calling her a bad grandmother was putting it lightly, she was an even worse mother-in-law. Hopefully you would never get the chance to tell him; Mother was waiting for him in Heaven, after all. And things should be much easier for him now, all things considered. Leaving him alone hadnât been part of the plan, so all you could do was tell yourself that it had been worth it. Someday you would believe it.
Grandmother was right though, loathe as you were to admit it, and the feeling of loss burned through you every morning when you awoke. Every night, you dreamed of rain; the sound of it, the smell of it, the feeling of it coming down on you in the middle of the family garden. Oh, how you missed the garden. The dark, wet dirt. Blue puffs of hydrangea against stark-white azaleas, your motherâs coveted yellow roses. The Spanish Moss hanging like phantom sails off the branches of the huge oak tree in the corner, where your father had placed a bench and made a small pond. You would sit under that tree for hours lost in a book, listening to the sounds of the garden.
The fire and brimstone you could endure. It was the way everything else was twisted here that was grueling. As if feeling your lament, a drop of acid rain hit your window, quickly morphing into a full-blown storm. A frustrated growl erupted from you and you rolled onto your stomach, burying your head under your pillow and said a silent prayer to whatever force would grant mercy on your roof. You couldnât afford to get it fixed again. The prayer had been answered just a moment after the rain stopped, when a drop of it fell from the ceiling and onto your pale, unsuspecting calf, your mattress absorbing the scream of pain that tore through your chest.
As the acid made its way through your leg, and eventually your mattress, all you could do was sob. Eternity⊠This was eternity.Â
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If this morning had been good, the day could only now be considered grand.
There was really nothing quite like a post-rain stroll through Cannibal Town, witnessing the misfortune of partially-dissolved sinners who had been caught in the deluge being consumed on the streets by the lively, ever-hungry inhabitants. Alastor would never tire of this jovial bunch that called this part of the Pentagram home, reveling in the sound of screams, the crunching of bone, the almost-lewd and animalistic grunts of feasting.
Were Rosie not expecting him for tea, he might have allowed himself to join in on the fun. Alas, his only solace was that Rosie never served anything less than superb, being the excellent hostess that she is.
He was quite intrigued by her invitation to join her alone, which meant that this likely wasnât anything to do with donating a small army of cannibals to aid in the fight against the Angels. Indeed, Charlieâs presence would be required once it was time to cash that favor in.
Not that he didnât enjoy a casual visit (as casual a visit between Overlords could be), he couldnât help but wonder. Thinking a few steps ahead was a must if one was going to thrive in Hell, and well, it was no secret that Alastor was doing a pretty fine job at that, all things considered. He began to whistle, earning a few gory smiles from cannibals who stopped mid-meal to enjoy the tune. A true honor.
Rosie opened the door for him before he even had the chance to knock, the âClosed for Rainâ sign clattering against the glass as she cooed. âAlastorrr! Come in, come in, before it starts raining again.â
As if on queue, a roll of thunder tore through the clouds, drawing a cheer from the denizens of Cannibal Town in anticipation for round two.Â
âRosie, my dear, always an honor and a privilege to be deemed worthy of your company,â Alastor said, bowing his head as Rosie feigned a blush, leading him to the parlor where they would be taking their tea.
The usual pleasantries were exchanged between sips of tea, coffee, and candied organs, which Alastor forced himself to consume through sheer courtesy. It was all part of the art of visiting, one he quite enjoyed, and he would never shame his motherâs memory with bad manners. They had just finished a plate of finger sandwiches when Rosie leaned in slightly, the conspiring grin on her face letting him know that it was, at last, time for business.
âYouâre always so good to indulge me, Alastor. It doesnât go unnoticed,â she said, grinning as she motioned to a maid to come grab their empty plates. âIâm sure youâve been dying to know why I asked you over here this afternoon.â
âOh, Rosie, itâs purely selfish! You know how hard it is to find good company in this godforsaken place. Iâm more than grateful to receive your hospitality,â he said with a trademark smile and flick of the wrist, leaning back in his chair as the maid cleared the table.
She had just turned to leave with their plates when the smile on his face nearly faltered. Was that⊠almond he smelled? It had been so long, but he was fairly certain it was. There was an underlying trace of blood, though that was common enough around here. But almond? It was too pleasant for Hell.
Rosieâs eyes darkened to match her grin, not missing the twitch of Alastorâs mouth. She knew heâd have been able to smell it. It seemed that so far only Hellborn could pick it up, but what would be the fun in letting him know that?Â
âDivine, isnât she? A walking pastry, but not much of a talker. I like to bring her around whenever a room needs some pizzazz! She wouldâve been eaten alive had I not taken her in,â Rosie whispered cheekily, as the maid returned with a fresh kettle and a gelatin mold for dessert. Rosie, not missing a beat once the tray had been set down, turned to her with a smile. âThank you dear, you can leave now. Iâll ring the bell if we need anything else.â
The maid gave a silent curtsy and left the room as instructed, her sweet scent clinging to the air. Since coming to Hell, he took pleasure in the taste of bloody iron, the bite of black coffee. But in life⊠Memories of marzipan and frangipane tarts swam in his mind. And hadnât Mother used almonds in her cherry pie crust? It took Alastor all he had not to drool, unsettled by the sudden rush of saliva in his mouth. Ages had passed since he last thought of such sweet things. He cleared his throat with as much grace as he could muster. Rosie only grinned.
âWell, sheâs certainly new, so I suppose itâs not surprising she doesnât talk much. Itâs quite easy to tell when a sinner is⊠adjusting. So morose! Youâre very gracious to have taken her on.â Alastor took a sip of coffee, desperate to get that almond smell out of his nostrils.Â
âWe both seem to be rather gracious these days, donât you think?â
And there it was.
Rosie sat back in her chair and crossed her legs as she continued. âI was actually wondering if perhaps she might fare better in that hotel youâre running. Donât get me wrong, she smells incredible, but fuck does she suck the air out of a room once the novelty wears off. She was scaring away clients, and you know itâs pretty bad if cannibals are uneasy around you for Christâs sake, which is why I had her start working back here, butâŠâ
Alastor had to resist gripping his knee, putting all his effort into maintaining a pleasant face. He had expected to be asked for a favor of sorts, but never did he imagine that Rosie wanted him to take on an employee. Sheâs had sinners sign contracts for little less than a new parasol, let alone a job. There was something more to this.
And beyond being an air freshener, what good was she for, really? He could deal with quiet, but to have to put up with yet another sulky face! What he had done to deserve it, he didnât know.
But he knew there wasnât really a choice other than to take the poor creature into his charge. Rosie was an alley he deeply cherished, and he was already in her debt for the help she had provided just weeks ago. This was no doubt the first part of paying that debt back, a sign of goodwill. Not every deal was beneficial from the start; still, Alastor wouldnât outright accept the offer. That was part of the fun.
âWell we already have a maid,â Alastor said gently, âbut after the recent renovation, we are anticipating more sinners to check in. Not that I doubt Nifftyâs abilities, but I suppose she could do with some help when business picks up. How long were you thinking of lending her to our cause?â
Rosie waved her hand. âLend? Oh, honey, if youâre willing to take her, sheâs yours. Iâve got plenty of helping hands, but it does me no good to have such a wet blanket hanging around. Thereâs just the matter ofâŠ,â Rosie trailed off as she reached into her purse, retrieving what Alastor already knew she had been grabbing for, ââŠher contract.â
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#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fan fiction#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor the radio demon#alastor x reader#alastor x female reader#alastor smut#hazbin hotel smut#song fic#if i canât have love i want power#love and power#x reader#slow burn#the radio demon#hazbin hotel slow burn
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pairing: paul atreides x reader
word count: 2000
warnings: light angst with a happy ending
summary: you are the empress of the known universe alongside paul atreides, however, you dont agree with what hes doing, so you give him an ultimatum.
You had always loved the rain. Especially on Caladan. Yes, on your home planet it had rained fairly frequently, but it wasnât the same. The rain on Caladan came down by the bucket full, not measly little drops. Each minute sheets of water fell from the sky like rolls of silver fabric.Â
The only thing that lulled you to sleep more effectively than rain on a window, was the slow, contented breathing of your husband beside you, and the slow movement of his fingers brushing against your waist. Every now and again heâd re-adjust his position to get even closer to you.Â
Usually he fell asleep before he was practically clinging to you, but tonight was not one of those occasions.Â
âPaul,â You laughed breathily, pushing away from him a bit in order to spin in his arms and face him.Â
He groaned in complaint as you moved away from him and opened his eyes blearily.Â
âWhyâre you moving awayâŠâ He complained, trying to pull you back to him.Â
âBecause youâre practically on top of me, Iâm not a hot water bottle.â You chided, although the teasing smile on your face gave away your true feelings.Â
âNo, youâre better.â He said, a sly smile on his face, âNow câmere, Iâm cold.âÂ
You sighed, but did as he said, tugging his arm around you and lacing your fingers together.Â
You could feel Paulâs smile on the back of your neck as he found a way to hold you even closer.Â
âI love you.â He whispered, and you replied in kind, the smile that formed on your face certain to match the one he was currently wearing.Â
âPromise youâll stay with me?âÂ
âMhm. I promise.âÂ
Now, as you paced nervously around the hangar, you couldnât help but think back to that promise you had made. At the time, you thought that nothing could tear you away from Paul Atreides, not the sun nor the stars.Â
Of course, you could never have planned for him becoming Emperor of the known universe. And you could have never known that it would be him tearing the both of you apart.Â
At first, when you had been planning your escape, you had hoped that the aircraft would arrive before your husband. That was before you remembered who your husband was now. He would notice you were gone almost immediately, so you had to plan for confrontation, not avoid it.Â
âWhat is this?â A voice came from the entrance to the hangar, echoing through the cavernous room and into your ears. He didnât sound angry, merely confused.
You turned to face him and his expression was just what you thought it would be, torn between angry and distressed. In his hand, he held the note which you had written, telling him to meet you down here.
âI am leaving, Paul. For Caladan.â You said firmly, turning to face him.Â
He smiled weakly, shaking his head, âWhy all the smoke and mirrors? If you wanted to return home you should have said so. I would have prepared a ship for us both-â
âBecause I am not going with you.â You interrupted, your voice harsh.
âWhat do you mean? It is not exactly typical for the Empress to leave her husband days after the coronation.â He laughed, but it was not the melodic sound you had once loved, instead it was forced, choked even.Â
âWell, you are not the typical Emperor. I am leaving, and you will not follow me.â You stated, remaining firm, even as your heart threatened to betray your mind and run back to him.Â
Paul just stared at you, his face painted white in shock.Â
âWhy?â He asked, his voice cracking.
âBecause I can no longer stay by your side and watch you become this. You are becoming someone I do not recognise.âÂ
âMy love, what are you talking about-?â
âI'm talking about this, Paul! Your holy war! You do remember that, donât you? The war you swore to me youâd do anything to stop? And now, here you are, at its forefront.â
âI had no choice.â He said, his eyes hardening slightly.
âYou always have a choice. You are their so-called âmessiahâ. Their emperor. They would fly into the sun if you asked them to. So ask them, stop this war before it consumes everything.â
âYou know it is not that simple!â He shouted, and you couldnât help but flinch slightly before rallying yourself.
âThe man I married on Caladan would not have cared about simplicity. He would have cared about what was right, what was moral! He would never have entered this conflict, he would have laid down his life to prevent it! And I would have been right beside him.âÂ
âThis conflict was inevitable! I am doing my very best to minimise the damage, canât you understand that?â
âI understand that you are still not doing enough.â
Paul looked at you, incredulously, anger filling his gaze, âReally? How can I do more when my own wife does not believe in me! You claim to support me, and yet now you are leaving me. My position is still weak, and you leave the only man you have ever claimed to love.â
âYour position! You are faced with the massacre of your people and all you can speak of is your position!?. Have you no soul left Paul? Did it melt away on Arrakis, scorched by the sun?âÂ
Suddenly all the anger and venom drained from Paulâs face, and he found himself dropping to his knees, and begging you to stay.Â
âYou are my soul. You have been all these years. You keep me balanced, you are my morality, my goodness. Everything I do is for you, my love, for your safety. I only care about my position for it is your position also, all the power I have acquired is only in the name of keeping you from harm.â
You looked at him, staring deeply into his eyes, that piercing blue that you had thought so beautiful when they finally changed. Now they were just a reminder of how much he had changed since coming to this awful place.Â
âI want to believe you. But you have always had such a way with words. I watched the way you deceived those people into following you, is that what youâre doing now?âÂ
He rose to his feet again, taking your hands in his. His face was frantic with fear.Â
âI would never deceive you. I mean every word, Iâve felt this way my whole life. You are the most important thing to me. You know I would never lie to you.â
For the first time since the conversation began, you hesitated slightly. Could you believe him? Eventually, you landed on an answer.Â
â...I do. You would never lie to me on purpose. You are lying to yourself too Paul. You know that I have never wanted position, nor power, heavens, I have never even wanted safety! All I have ever wanted is you, wholly, truly, with no barriers-â
âAnd you have me!âÂ
You reached up to splay your hand across his cheek, wiping away the tears that threatened to spill from his blue-blue eyes.Â
âNo, I donât have you. I have splinters of you, and I fear the rest is lost. You may bear the resemblance of the man I love, but you are not him.â
He opened his mouth to protest, but no sound came out.Â
Suddenly there was the immense whirring of gears, and you knew your ship was here to take you to Caladan.
âIâm afraid we do not have much time, so listen to what I say,â He didnât react, his face remaining desperate and heartbroken, but you continued anyway.
âIf you finally realise what you have done, and you fix it, come to me on Caladan. But I donât want to see the Muadâdib, or the âMessiahâ, or the Kwisatz Haderach. The only man I wish to see is my husband, Paul Atreides. Remember that Paul.âÂ
You gave him one last longing look before turning away from him, and making towards the ship that was emerging from the floor of the hangar.
âIâll see you again?â He called, his voice cracking slightly as he stared after your retreating form in defeat.Â
âHopefully so, my love, hopefully so.âÂ
And with that, you stepped onto the outstretched platform of the ship, and shut the door behind you. Paul stayed in the hangar until the craft was gone, biting his tongue so as not to call out to you again and beg you to stay. Â
*
The message that the Emperor would be coming to visit you had come far sooner than you expected. Â
And you were disappointed in him. He was breaking your agreement, and so soon. It had only been a year, and to your knowledge there had been no change in the situation.
 Perhaps he was coming to ask for a divorce, maybe heâd found someone else since you left. That would certainly be ironic, considering the way he had begged for you to stay on Arrakis.Â
However, you were incorrect, because only a few days later a messenger came to tell you that the jihad had ended.        Â
Immediately you leapt out of your seat, clasping your hand over your mouth in shock. He had done it.Â
For the next few days, Castle Caladan was abuzz with preparations for the Emperor returning home. You oversaw said preparations with a watchful eye, and though you wouldnât admit it, you were happier than you had been in years. As much as you didnât want to admit it, you had missed Paul terribly.Â
Yet, when his ship landed, you were nowhere to be found.Â
âWhere is my wife?â Paul asked one of your ladies in waiting as he strode through the halls of his childhood home.Â
âMy lord, she left on a walk to the cliffs this morning, and has not returned since. Would you like me to send someone to fetch her?â
The Emperorâs harsh expression softened slightly. âNo, Iâll go.âÂ
It didnât take Paul long to work out where you had gone, and as he climbed one of the paths up to the cliffs, he was glad to see you sitting on one of the benches, clad in the green silks of house Atreides.Â
He called your name, and his voice cut through the gusting winds into your ear, and you turned to face him with a searching look on your face.Â
You stood, and couldnât help but jog towards your husband, gathering your skirts so you didnât trip and make a fool of yourself. However, you stopped short of running into his arms, opting to stand just in front of him so you could inspect his face properly.Â
âIs it you, Paul? Have you finally come back to me?â You asked, your voice cracking slightly.Â
âItâs me,â He whispered, reaching a hand out to touch you, âIâm sorry I didnât listen to you, what I was doing was wrong, and I know that now, and-!â
You cut off his rambling apology by surging forwards into his arms and kissing him fiercely. He immediately responded in kind, wrapping an arm around your waist and cradling your head in his hand, whilst you held onto the lapels of his coat as tightly as you could.Â
Despite the fact you wanted to stay like that forever, eventually the need for oxygen prevailed, and you broke away to take a deep breath in, laughing lightly at the sight of his flushed face.Â
He grinned at you, moving the hand that was on the back of our head back to your cheek, brushing his thumb along your face.Â
âYou missed me?â He asked, teasing, but his voice had a slight edge of concern to it.Â
âYes. I missed you so much.â You said immediately, emphatically. Because you had missed Paul, it felt as if you hadnât seen the real him for years, and the feeling of being reunited was almost too much for you to contain.Â
He let out a short sigh of relief, âI missed you too. But itâs ok, because Iâve fixed it all. They still think Iâm their messiah, but Iâm going to stop acting like it. And you were right, I was power hungry, and selfish, and I exploited so many people, and I betrayed you, and-â
âEnough, Paul.â You said, looking at him with so much care that he couldnât help but smile softly, âYes, you have made mistakes, but it wasnât all your fault. And youâve made a change now, youâre doing the right thing. And Iâll always be there for you. I had to leave to help you, but I knew weâd see each other again. And here we are, back home, just like old times.âÂ
âYouâre right.âÂ
âI often am, my love.âÂ
He wrapped his arms around you once again, âWill you stay with me, here?âÂ
You nodded, âMhm. Iâll stay for good this time.â
#fanfic#writing#paul atredies x reader#paul atreides x you#dune part two#dune movie#dune#dune part 2#fluff#minor angst#established relationship#theyre so in love i hate them#arguing
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Miguel OâHara x reader
Tags: 18+ ONLY mdni, College AU, roommates to lovers, tooth-rotting love for this man, pussy-devouring, fingering, squirting, I wrote this in one go so you get what ya get
Word count: 2.3k- written in one, prolonged blackout
Notes: Iâm fucking back bitches. I missed you, I missed this. I hope I stick around this time. This was supposed to be a blurb about squirting but the melancholy romantic won again.
Cross-posted to Ao3!
Thereâs something about the smell of crisp summer morning, the feeling of gentle air, humidity whispering across your face. The inescapable heat of late July is hidden from the world in its earliest hours.
âKeep up MamĂ, Iâm not getting stuck in the rain because youâre daydreaming.â
You pick up the pace, jogging in quick steps to catch up to Miguel. Heâs farther ahead than you realized, strong muscles and wispy brown hair outlined by dark storm clouds.
Your breath is heavy, rattling against your ribs while you match the canter of Miguelâs long stride. Heâs never gone easy on you, but your labored breathing makes him ease up a bit.
âWhatâs got your attention this morning? Or were you admiring the view behind me?â Miguel reaches up to adjust the cloth headband keeping his hair out of his face. His arms look like theyâre chiseled from marble, strong, tanned skin flexes under the cutoff he wears in some iteration every morning.
Your eyes glaze over, not realizing the intensity of your gawking until Miguelâs eyes find yours. The color is deeper than usual, darker and melting into the black of his pupil. You write it off as the gloomy weather above, but he licks his bottom lip before relinquishing your stare.
You forgot what he asked you, but he doesnât press the subject any further. Out of character, but appreciated.
âWhat time is your last class over tonight?â He asks, you fix your eyes on a stop sign ahead to avoid getting lost in his stare again. You see him from the corner of your eye, the angle making it seem that his gaze is focused on the bounce of your chest.
Itâs just the angle, you sound even less convincing in your own head.
âUh- well itâs Monday, so I have lab until 4:30.â You groan out the last part, ruminating on the long day ahead of you.
âMy evening class got canceled for today, so I can take care of dinner tonight.â
You hum at him, his offer settles against your shoulders like honey. Something to look forward to at the end of a long day.
Sometimes he almost feels real.
He folded you into his life like melted chocolate. An easy, peaceful affection towards you since you moved in all those months ago. An offer to join his morning runs, filling a thermos of coffee for you to grab before leaving the apartment, coming home to dinner with that casual dismissal that makes your head spin.
âItâs no problem, mamĂ, thatâs what roommates are for.â Heâs always been so plain and earnest, smoothing over any objections with a sugary term of endearment and those big brown eyes.
Your heart aches so deeply when you forget that heâs just your roommate. Stabbing and twisting in your breastbone when you think about how much effort he must put in with dates.
You stop abruptly, feet cemented to the sidewalk and chest heaving rapidly. Miguel slows to a stop when he notices you missing from his side.
âHey, donât tell me youâre quitting, weâre two blocks from the apartment.â His voice is light, but his eyes fall from amusement to concern when he sees how hard your breath falls from your lungs.
âWhoa, whatâs wrong, are you feeling okay?â He paces towards you and another deep inhale fills your senses with his musky scent instead of the rainy morning air you desperately need.
âI- Iâm fine,â you struggle against the words, lifting your gaze to see Miguelâs sweat-slicked curls flop against his forehead.
You blame the early hour, or light-headedness, or a moment of delirium as your hand comes up to tuck the stray hair back under his headband.
âYouâre so beautiful, Miguel.â
Your words tumble out, breaching the filter in the back of your mouth that keeps you from saying stupid shit to the man youâre stuck in a lease with.
Miguelâs breath hitches, concern falling away and filling its place with an unreadable expression. His eyes pace between your pupils, freezing the blood flowing under your skin. Why does his proximity make you act like a love-sick puppy? The frustration wells up, lining your tear ducts.
âThat- I- Iâm sorry.â You return his look with an awkward laugh, coughing around the lump in your throat.
Your body moves on autopilot, sidestepping his frame to make a run for it, but Miguel circles your wrist with a large palm. His skin is callused and warm as he pulls you to stand in front of him once again.
He holds you in his stare, burning eyes and the light grip of your wrist is more than enough to keep you in place.
Thereâs nothing more you can do but stutter around your tattered pride. Racking against your brain to find an excuse for your weird behavior. A possession? A moment of psychosis? Youâll call a priest later, but you first need to get away from Miguel and the sweet smell of cologne and sweat so you can think clearly again.
âMi hermosa,â your balance is kicked out from under you as he holds both wrists against his chest.
Miguelâs lips dip down to you, you can almost taste his cherry chapstick as he traces his words above your mouth. You feel the first drops of rain as they hit Miguelâs cheek and bounce off your nose. Before you can taste that distinct cherry flavor, the angry crack of thunder pulls your bones from your skin.
âWe need to get home,â you see a flash of lightning as it reflects in Miguelâs eyes, it splits the clouds and opens up a swollen reservoir- rain pounding down on the two of you, âweâre getting soaked Mig-â
âSay the word, MamĂ,â He interrupts you, barely fazed by the storm that was ripped from your soul and clawed itself into the sky, âTell me to fuck off and Iâll never try this again.â
Miguel drops his grip on your wrists, moving those eclipsing palms to the juncture of your neck. His lips beg for your touch once again and for the millionth time.
âBĂ©same.â Your accent is rigid and unpracticed, remedial at best but music to Miguelâs ears. His mouth meets yours in a wide smile, fingers finding purchase on either side of your neck.
His kiss is dripping and desperate, if youâre not careful you could drown right here and sink into the concrete.
All of the times youâve imagined this moment are nothing compared to the real thing. Heâs aggressive and hungry, licking into your mouth and vibrating your tongue with a growl.
âJesus fucking Christ,â Miguel bites at your lip before pulling away, his face is obscured in the pouring rain, âyou have no idea how long Iâve wanted to do that.â
How wrong he is, you think.
Miguel pulled you through the threshold of your shared apartment as soon as the door was unlocked, the only sense he has left is depleted- used up from keeping his composure while you fumble with your keys. His strong, broad arms circling around your waist to tug you ever closer, keeping your mouth open and whining against his.
Your feet lift from the carpet as Miguel lifts you up with the same effort as a paperweight. The feeling of his hands settling on your ass is the last pull against your unwinding composure. Youâre legs wrap around his middle and you grind down hard against his abdomen.
âFuck, I can feel your pussy through your leggings.â His words make you dizzy, grinding against him with a brainless rhythm.
âWe donât have to,â his lips trace down your neck between each word, âwe donât have to do anything you donât want to.â
The sincerity in his eyes hits you squarely in the chest and moving across your skin like fever.
âMiggy, I need you. Please, anything you give me- Iâll take it.â
Your even tone shocks the both of you, the most confident youâve sounded all morning.
âFuck, I almost want to make you regret those words.â His teeth graze the tender spot under your chin.
âBut the first thing I want is a taste of that sweet little cunt.â Youâre sure your knees would buckle if Miguel wasnât holding you, the rough tambor of his voice will be the death of you- youâll take your chances.
Miguel carries you past the small kitchen and living area, you donât notice where heâs sat you until he pulls his lips away from yours.
His room smells like fresh laundry and pine, the bedspread heâs set you on is tucked neatly on either side and soft under your touch. Youâve sat in this exact spot plenty of times, to study into the late night, to watch reruns of your favorite show on lazy Sunday afternoons- but never like this.
Miguel pushes you lightly so your back hits the mattress, he spreads your legs apart at the knee and you feel the tight fabric of your leggings as it shifts against your pussy.
Your running set is tight against your skin, sweat and rain covering your trembling body so that every inch is sticky and damp.
Miguelâs pointer and middle finger rub against your pussy, memorizing the outline of your plush lips under thin nylon. Heâll tuck the image into the back of his mind in case he needs it later.
âMmm, no panties this morning,â he muses, pressing his thumb against your clit.
Miguel pulls at the fabric on your pussy, letting it snap back against your skin, you can feel the tight material drenched from your aching pussy. You want to tell him that you can hardly take this teasing, but all that comes out is a wobbly string of please, please, please.
âDonât worry, MamĂ, Iâm gonna take care of you.â Your thoughts donât catch up to him until the chill of open air hits your bare cunt. Your soaked leggings are tossed to the corner of his almost clinically clean room.
Miguel takes a moment to marvel at the sopping wet pussy heâs got trapped against his mattress.
âQue maravilla,â he kisses his words flatly against your puffy lips before coaxing them open with his nose. His face is covered in you already, glistening across his lips and chin. But itâs not enough, it wonât be enough until you drown him.
His tongue laps at you like youâre whatâs keeping him alive. He kisses with his mouth open, collecting your offering to him and drinking it down with every flat lashing of his tongue.
You taste tangy and sweet, a heady mix of sweat and pheromones that pulls him in ever closer. Desperate to drink his fill of you. Every long swipe at your sloppy hole is dotted with a kiss, every inch of skin is electric- zapping against your clit with every measured nip.
Miguelâs fingers find their way to rest against your pussy, pushing in gently when heâs satisfied with how well his tongue worked you open.
Once the digits are wettened, Miguel pushes two in to the first knuckle. He groans at the feeling of how welcoming your pussy is, how responsive you are to his touch.
He licks his praises against your soft skin as your muscles relax around the thick intrusion. His vision fuzzy at the edges thinking about how youâll take his cock. The thought is pushed back for now, lingering on it could break you when heâs just gotten started.
Your hips rock down against him, catching your clit with his wide palm.
Your whimpering emboldens him, cock weeping in the waistband of his shorts. Heâs harder than heâs ever been, the frustrating ache in his balls is poured right into the quickening pace of his fingers. He needs you to break- crumble into pieces so he can put them back together.
âMiguel, fuck, I need- you need to slow down or Iâm gonnaâ
Your pleas fall on deaf ears, Miguel is hypnotized at the sight of your pussy spilling over against him. He doesnât relent even as you cry out and shake under him. He doesnât miss a beat as your pussy squelches, clear liquid splashing against his chest.
âOh fuck, you didnât mention youâre a squirter.â His pace is torturous, pumping against that spot deep inside you that turns you into a puddle.
Once his other hand comes down to circle your clit, you know that youâre done for. The fear of letting loose like this is something that holds your rigid body from completely letting go. No oneâs ever pulled you from that damn before, but Miguel has torn it down completely.
âLet go for me, MamĂ, need to feel you cum against my fingers, need to see you squirt for me again.â The words drip from his mouth like hot syrup and coat your stiff muscles.
He pulls more out of you with each pump of those skilled fingers, more than you ever thought you had in you, more than you could imagine.
You cry as you cum, tears spilling over your cheeks in fat streams. The feelings youâve kept inside for Miguel, the schoolgirl crush, the craving, the primal need all splashes against the both of you with the telltale spasm of your cunt against his fingers.
Your mind feels like itâs been dipped in wax, dripping from itâs fixed position to coat your shoulders. He makes quick work of tugging you back down to earth, lying next to your limp body with an anchoring hand on your stomach. He coos you, whispering praise into your hairline.
The sun peeks through Miguelâs window, clouds moving on to the next town and leaving the still early morning to brighten up the sky. Your face feels hot in realization.
Youâve got a long day ahead of you.
* * *
All work is mine blah blah I donât wanna go find my old copyright thing but Iâll piss in your water supply if you steal this.
#miguel oâhara smut#miguel oâhara x reader#atsv miguel#miguel oâhara#atsv x reader#miguel spiderverse
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âïžđ€â€ïžâđ©čđ + Jimin pretty please
TITLE: Almost Romantic
PAIRING: jimin x reader
GENRE: rom-com, slice of life(?), Slow burn, Drama
WORD COUNT: 6k
TRIGGER WARNING: none (this is the first time i'm writing something with no trigger warning! hehe)
SUMMARY: After an awkward car ride in the rain, you end up at Park Jimin's fancy place, sneezing and fighting off both a cold and your long-time crush on him.
a/n: This story is entirely a work of fiction and is the sole property of @kookiewithluv. The characters, events, and scenarios depicted are products of the imagination and are not intended to represent or reflect real-life situations, nor do I wish for anything portrayed here to occur in reality. I kindly ask that my work not be copied, translated, or reposted as your own on this or any other platform, including YouTube. Please respect the effort and originality behind this piece. Thank you for your understanding and support.
a/n: Hey Anon! First off, let me apologize for taking forever to get back to you. I mean, wow, it took me so long you'd think I was trying to cure world hunger or something. Honestly, I have no idea what I ended up doing, and after all this time, I can only hope it's halfway decent. If you like it, please tell me so I can stop questioning all my life choices. And thank you for sending a Jimin request because OMG, I am dangerously obsessed with this man. Seriously. Anyway, hope you enjoy it. Luv ya!
The rain hammered down in relentless sheets, drumming against the tin roof of the bus stop above you. The cold air howled through the deserted street, wrapping itself around you like an unwelcome guest. The flickering streetlight cast a pale, ghostly glow, its harsh light accentuating the emptiness around you. You hugged yourself tightly, your arms gripping your sides as if you could hold yourself together.
You shivered, your breath coming out in quick, visible puffs. The dampness seeped through your clothes, clinging to your skin and chilling you to the bone. Drops of water slid down your face, some from the rain, others threatening to spill from your eyes. You blinked them away furiously, biting down on the inside of your cheek to keep from breaking down. Mina had warned you about staying late at the office, but as always, you thought you knew better. Now you stood here, stranded and freezing, your phone a useless piece of metal in your bag.
A gust of wind tore through the street, whipping your hair into your face and dragging the rain sideways. You turned your head away, teeth chattering. The cold felt like it was pressing in, squeezing the air from your lungs. You couldnât even hear your own shaky breathing over the roar of the storm.
The faint glow of headlights pierced through the rain, growing brighter as the car approached. Your heart surged with a flicker of hope, and you stumbled forward, arm jerking up to wave frantically. âPlease,â you whispered, though your voice was swallowed by the storm. âPlease stop.â
The carâs tires splashed through a puddle, sending icy water spraying onto your shoes. Its headlights illuminated you for a split second before sweeping past, leaving you in the dark once more. You stood frozen, your arm still raised as you stared after the fading taillights.
Your chest tightened, and you swallowed hard, trying to choke back the lump rising in your throat. Your hand dropped slowly to your side, trembling as you clenched it into a fist. The ache in your chest grew heavier, a suffocating weight that pressed against your ribs. A tear slipped free, quickly hidden by the rain streaking down your face. You swiped at your cheeks angrily.
The wind howled again, and you crumpled onto the cold bench behind you, wrapping your arms around you, tightly. Your nails dug into your damp sleeves as your shoulders began to shake. You couldnât cryâwhat good would it do? No one was coming. No one ever did. The darkness pressed in closer, whispering that you were alone, as you rocked yourself gently.
Your heart jolted as you caught sight of the same car stopped just a few feet away. Its brake lights glowed faintly in the rain before it suddenly began reversing. The tires splashed through puddles, the sound sharp against the muffled roar of the storm. Before you could process what was happening, the car screeched to a halt right in front of you.
Were you happy? No.
Relieved? Not even close.
Scared? Absolutely.
Your legs locked in place as you stared at the car, your mind racing. Why would someone stop now after ignoring you the first time? The question sent a shiver down your spine. The pounding rain felt distant compared to the thunderous beating of your heart. Every nerve screamed at you to run, but your feet refused to move. You tried to steady your breathing, silently chanting, Stay calm, stay calm, but your chest tightened like a coiled spring, ready to snap.
The car door opposite you creaked open, the noise slicing through the storm like a warning bell. Your body tensed, muscles coiling as if preparing to bolt. But just as quickly, the door slammed shut again. What? Your brows furrowed, and for a fleeting moment, confusion overpowered fear. Is this person okay? Or are they just messing with me?
The passenger window began to lower, gliding down with a soft whoosh. Your breath hitched as a familiar face emerged, half-shrouded in the shadows of the car's interior. Park Jimin. Your boss. Your obnoxiously attractive, arrogant, self-absorbed boss. Relief washed over you like a bucket of icy water, though it was short-lived.
âGet in,â he commanded, his voice low and clipped as he motioned impatiently with his hand. You hesitated, frozen under his sharp gaze, but another gust of wind pushed you forward, your feet dragging against the puddled pavement. The rain soaked you even more as you opened the car door and slid in, trembling from the cold. The interior smelled faintly of leather and expensive cologne, but any sense of comfort was destroyed by his sharp voice cutting through the space.
âAre you out of your fucking mind? What the hell are you doing here at this time of night? And why were you walking so damn slow?â
Your head snapped toward him, your eyes narrowing despite the exhaustion clawing at you. Of course, his first instinct wasnât to ask if you were okay but to criticize. You forced a tight-lipped smile, your fingers curling into the damp fabric of your skirt.
âYes, Mr. Park. Iâm perfectly fine,â you bit out, the words dripping with sarcasm you tried to mask behind a strained politeness. Your fake smile wavered as you glanced at him, silently debating whether strangling him would be worth losing your ride home.
Jimin scoffed, shaking his head slightly, as though reading your thoughts. His eyes trailed over your face, lingering for a moment before they dropped lower. You noticed the shift in his expression too late. His gaze flicked to your collarbone, then downward. His eyes widened briefly before he snapped his head forward, clearing his throat with a harsh sound.
Confused, you frowned and followed his gaze. Your stomach sank as your eyes landed on the problem. Your white blouse, drenched from the rain, clung to your body like a second skin, and the bright red lace of your bra was clearly visible underneath.
A gasp escaped your lips as your arms flew up instinctively to cover your chest. âOh my god,â you muttered, turning your body away from him, your face heating despite the cold. You shot him a glare over your shoulder, clutching your arms tightly around yourself.
Jimin rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze entirely. He shook his head, exhaling sharply through his nose as he shrugged off his blazer. Without a word, he leaned over and held it out to you. You snatched it from his hand, your lips twisting into a scowl.
âYou couldâve stopped the car near me,â you muttered under your breath, slipping the warm fabric over your shoulders. The faint scent of his cologne clung to it. So... manly.
His head snapped toward you, brows furrowed. âSo, itâs my fault now?â
âDuh!â you shot back, pulling the blazer tighter around yourself as if it could shield you from his attitude.
âAnd what about the fact that you were walking so maddeningly slow? Like you were planning to camp out there all night?â
Your jaw clenched, your hands balling into fists at your sides. âShut up,â you hissed, your voice low but dripping with frustration.
Jiminâs eyes widened slightly, his lips parting in mock disbelief. âDid you justââ
âYes, yes, yes! I just told you to shut uuuupppp!â you yelled, throwing your hands in the air. Your voice echoed sharply inside the car, silencing him completely. The weight of your outburst hit you like a tidal wave, embarrassment creeping up your neck. You turned your face away, heat flooding your cheeks. Great. Now I look like a lunatic.
He stared at you, stunned, his lips slightly parted as though he couldnât quite process what had just happened. His wide eyes and slack jaw only made you angrier. You could practically feel his judgment radiating off him, and it made you want to crawl under a rockâor strangle him slowly and thoroughly.
âStop staring and start the damn car,â you snapped, your voice cracking slightly.
His gaze lingered for a moment longer before he blinked, shaking his head. His cheeks flushed a soft pink, and he hurriedly looked away, gripping the steering wheel tightly. âFine,â he muttered, starting the engine with a low rumble.
The car began to move, the rain now a blurred sheet outside the windows. Silence settled between you, heavy and awkward, broken only by the rhythmic swish of the windshield wipers. You sank back into the seat, pressing your hand to your forehead as a dull ache throbbed at your temples. A cold shiver raced down your spine, and you took a shaky breath, hoping it would settle your nerves.
âHow long, Mr. Park?â you asked, your voice quieter now, the fight in you momentarily drained.
âNot far,â he replied, glancing at you briefly before returning his eyes to the road. âMy house is just a few blocks away. Weâll be there soon.â
Your heart stopped. You sat up straighter, your hands clutching the blazer tightly. âWhat the hell do you mean, your house?â
He spared you another glance, his brows knitting together in mild confusion. âIâm taking you home,â he said, his tone matter-of-fact.
âWhose home?â you nearly screeched, pulling the blazer tighter around you as though it could somehow protect you from this insanity.
âMine,â he said simply, his eyes darting back to the road.
"Home. Your home," you repeated, your tone sharp as you gestured toward him. "I wanted to go to my home."
Jiminâs knuckles tightened on the steering wheel, his jaw ticking in irritation. âI didnât know the address,â he said flatly, avoiding your gaze.
âYou couldâve just asked!â
âI wanted to, but you yelled at me to shut up.â
âAnd so your brilliant solution was to bring me here?â you retorted, throwing your hands up in disbelief.
His eyes snapped to yours, narrowing as he pulled the car to a jerky stop. âExcuse me? I live here. What the hell do you mean by here?â he asked, his voice low and offended, his brows drawing together.
You glared at him, your lips curling into a bitter scowl. âThen why have you stopped in the middle of nowhere?â
Jiminâs lips parted, a humourless laugh escaping him as he ran a hand through his damp hair. âI think youâve been out in the rain too long. Maybe some water leaked into your brain because itâs clearly not working. We are not in the middle of nowhere, you deranged woman.â
Before you could retort, he pushed his door open with a sharp motion and stepped out, slamming it shut behind him. You stared after him in disbelief, his broad back retreating into the rain. Grumbling under your breath, you wrestled with your seatbelt, finally kicking the door open and following him.
The rain hit you like icy needles, soaking through your clothes as you stumbled out of the car. The moment you stepped onto the pavement, you froze, your jaw slack. In front of you stood a towering, modern building, its glass facade gleaming despite the downpour. âWow,â you muttered under your breath, momentarily forgetting your anger. But then you caught sight of Jiminâs retreating figure, and you cursed under your breath, hiking up your heels to chase after him.
âOf course, youâd leave me behind,â you muttered as your heels clicked against the wet pavement.
Jimin turned his head slightly, flashing you a grin that made you want to slap it off his face. âOh, youâre here! I thought youâd decided to spend the night in the car,â he teased, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
You narrowed your eyes at him, shivering as you wrapped his blazer tighter around yourself. âDo you have a knife at home?â you asked, your tone casual as you both inside the elevator.
He paused mid-step, his shoulders stiffening slightly. âYeah⊠why?â
âJust so I know where to find one,â you replied, tilting your head innocently. âFor when you start talking too much rubbish.â
Jimin turned to face you fully, his brows lifting as his mouth parted in shock. For a brief moment, he looked genuinely alarmed. Then, as you burst into laughter at his expression, he sighed in relief, shaking his head.
âYou think youâre funny?â he asked, his voice low as he stepped closer to you, his eyes narrowing slightly.
You smirked, lifting your chin. âI think Iâm adorable.â
His lips twitched into a smirk of his own as he leaned in, his face now dangerously close to yours. You wanted to step back, but the cold glass of the elevator doors pressed against your back, trapping you. His dark eyes glinted with amusement as he opened his mouth to respondâ
And then you sneezed.
Hard.
Right into his face.
The moment froze, your eyes widening in horror as he flinched, wiping at his face with his sleeve. âWhat the actual hell?!â he yelled, his voice a mixture of disbelief and rage. He stepped back, his face scrunching up in disgust as he muttered a string of curses, switching languages with every expletive. English, Japanese, Chinese, and then a barrage of rapid Korean filled the small elevator.
You stared down at your feet, heat crawling up your neck. âSorryâŠâ you mumbled, barely audible, too mortified to meet his eyes.
He glared at you, his nostrils flaring. âSorry? Sorry?!â He stepped forward, looking like he had a whole speech preparedâ
But the elevator dinged, its doors sliding open.
For the first time that night, you silently thanked every god you could think of as Jimin stomped out, muttering under his breath. You hurried after him, sneezing again as the cold air hit you.
âSit,â he barked, pointing to the plush couch in his spacious living room. His voice was sharp, but his eyes softened for a moment as they flicked to your shivering form.
You sat without a word, clutching his blazer tightly around you. Jimin disappeared into hallway, still muttering under his breath. As you sneezed again, you couldnât help but laugh softly at the ridiculousness of it all, even if he was plotting your demise in the next room.
He came back, dressed in a plain sweatshirt and gray sweatpants, his hair sticking up in messy tufts, like heâd been running his hands through it. Barefoot and casual, he shouldâve looked harmless, but instead, he looked annoyingly good. His sharp gaze locked on you as he walked closer, his lips pressed into a tight line, like he had something serious to say. Your throat dried up when he stopped right in front of you, the scent of his and something uniquely him filling the air between you. He leaned in, his face inches from yours, and just as his lips parted to speakâ
You sneezed.
Right on his face.
âWomen, seriously?â he muttered, his lips curling into a smirk as he wiped the back of his hand against his face.
You scowled, tugging his oversized blazer tighter around yourself. âWhat? I canât help it!â
âYou canât help anything. The only thing you can help at is being mean and senseless.â
âExcuse me?â you snapped, leaning toward him, ready to unleash your furyâbut another sneeze erupted before you could get the words out.
âEww!â he exclaimed, jerking back like youâd just sprayed him with acid.
He pointed toward the hallway, his expression torn between disgust and resignation. âYou, come with me. Before you drown my house with your sneezes.â
You rolled your eyes, trudging after him as he led you through the sleek, modern interior of his house.
âI didnât ask you to bring me here,â you grumbled, your damp hair sticking to your neck. âYou couldâve just dropped me off at my place.â
He turned his head slightly, his brow furrowing in exasperation. âDid you see how hard it was raining? You wanted me to take you home and then drive back through that storm? I couldâve gotten stuckâor worse. You should be grateful!â
You glared at his back, muttering under your breath, âGrateful, my ass.â
Jimin stopped in front of a door and pushed it open, revealing a spacious, minimalist bedroom. He disappeared into the walk-in closet without a word, emerging moments later with a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants.
âHere,â he said, shoving the clothes into your arms. âChange into this.â His voice softened, just for a second, before he added, âBathroomâs on the right. Donât take forever.â
You raised a brow as he turned and left without waiting for a response. Rude.
But as you glanced around his roomâsimple yet elegant with muted tones and clean linesâyou couldnât deny the faint flutter in your chest. It was surreal, standing here, surrounded by the essence of him. Once upon a time, when youâd first started working at the company, youâd harboured the most ridiculous crush on him. Obsessive, even. But youâd gotten over it. Or at least you thought you had.
Quickly peeling off your wet clothes, you slipped into the hoodie and sweatpants. They were far too big, the sleeves swallowing your hands, but they were warm and soft. And they smelled⊠like him. Clean, woodsy, with the faintest hint of something sharp and intoxicating. You hated how comforting it felt.
Or maybe you didnât.
When you returned to the living room, he was sprawled on the couch, one arm draped over the backrest. His eyes flicked to you, scanning you briefly before he gestured toward the coffee table. âSoup,â he said simply.
Your gaze shifted to the large bowl sitting on the table, steam rising from the golden liquid. Your heart softened a fraction as you sat beside him, the warmth of the soup drawing you in. Without a second thought, you grabbed the bowl and scooped up a spoonful.
The second it touched your tongue, the heat seared your mouth, and you yelped, dropping the spoon back into the bowl. Jiminâs eyes widened, as he shot forward. âWhat the hell?!â he exclaimed, snatching the bowl out of your hands and placing it back on the table.
Before you could respond, he was in front of you, crouching slightly, his face a mixture of panic and concern. leaning closer. He started fanning your mouth with his hand, his brows furrowed as he muttered under his breath. Then, without warning, he leaned in further and blew.
The cool air hit your lips, and your breath hitched. His face was inches from yours now, his dark eyes focused intently on your mouth. You froze, acutely aware of the way his hand hovered just beneath your chin, steadying you. The moment stretched, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. His gaze flicked to yours, and for a heartbeat, neither of you moved. His lips parted slightly, his breath warm against your cheek.
âAre you blind? C-Canât you see itâs hot?â he scolded, his voice breaking slightly as he cleared his throat and shifted awkwardly on the couch. His eyes darted away from yours, and for a fleeting moment, you caught the faintest hint of colour creeping up his neck.
You nodded, the sting of embarrassment silencing any snarky retort. Any other day, youâd have torn into him for bossing you around, but now? You couldnât even muster a glare. Instead, you pressed your palms to your cheeks, only to realize they were burning.
What the hell was wrong with you?
Your mind raced as you sat frozen in place. Youâre over him. Youâre over him, you chanted silently, willing the blush to disappear. But deep down, you knew the truthâyour heart was still as stupid as ever.
And then, just as you thought you could gather yourself, you sneezed again.
His head whipped toward you, eyes narrowing slightly. You braced for the scolding that was surely coming, shoulders tensing as you sucked in a breath.
But instead, he shifted closer.
Your breath hitched.
His gaze softened, his brows knitting together with concern as he leaned in. âAre you really sick?â he asked, his voice quieter this time, almost gentle.
Before you could answer, his hand moved toward your face. You froze as his fingertips brushed your forehead, testing your temperature. His touch was warmâtoo warmâand your heart thudded violently in your chest.
He frowned, his hand lingering for a moment longer before sliding down to the side of your neck, his thumb grazing your jaw.
That was it. You were doomed.
Your pulse quickened beneath his touch, and you swore he could feel it. His brows furrowed deeper, his expression shifting from mild concern to genuine worry. âYouâre turning red,â he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. His thumb moved slightly, tracing an invisible line along your skin. âDo⊠Do I need to call a doctor?â
The tenderness in his tone almost shattered you. Why did he have to be like this? Why now?
You shook your head quickly, snapping out of your daze and leaning back, desperate to put some distance between you. âNo,â you managed to croak, your voice embarrassingly hoarse.
He blinked, his hand falling back to his side as he sat upright. âOh,â he said, his tone clipped. His shoulders stiffened as if he suddenly realized how close heâd been.
You caught his slight grimace as he scooted away, the small gap between you growing wider.
Your chest tightened, and before you knew it, you were pouting.
His gaze flicked to you, one brow arching in confusion. âWhat?â he asked, his voice tinged with suspicion.
You shook your head quickly, too flustered to explain.
âSeriously, whatâs wrong now?â he pressed, his brows drawing together again.
But you just shook your head once more, biting your lip to keep from saying something stupidâlike how much youâd missed this, how much you wished heâd never pulled away.
And yet, even as he leaned back into his corner of the couch, his gaze lingered on you for a second longer than necessary, his expression unreadable. And that tiny, almost imperceptible pause was enough to make your heart ache with hope.
âYou hungry?â he asked, his voice low and casual as he glanced over at you.
âNo,â you said quickly, your tone sharper than intended.
His lips quirked up, clearly not believing you. âYou sure? I can cook,â he offered, his brows lifting in that way that made his face unbearably soft, like he was trying to coax the truth out of you.
You shook your head firmly. âIâm sure,â you mumbled, shifting your gaze back to the soup in your hands. Youâd already eaten, and you knew he had too.
A comfortable silence fell between you. He leaned back on the couch, his head resting against the cushions, eyes fluttering closed. His chest rose and fell evenly, and for the first time since youâd met him, he looked utterly at peace.
And absolutely stunning.
You tried not to stare, but your eyes betrayed you, taking in every detail. The way his jawline looked sharper under the dim light, the soft curve of his lashes resting against his cheeks, and his lipsâGod, his lipsâfull and slightly parted, as if he was moments away from whispering something that would undo you.
Your gaze trailed down to his clothes, his sweatshirt slightly rumpled but hugging his shoulders perfectly. His loose, comfy sweatpants sat just right on his hips, and even in such an unassuming outfit, he looked... ethereal.
It wasnât fair. How could someone look like that just sitting there?
You pulled your eyes away, forcing yourself to look out the glass wall instead. The rain pounded relentlessly against it, streaks of water catching the faint glow of the city lights outside. The storm showed no signs of stopping, and you couldnât help but regret staying late at the office.
I couldâve finished it all tomorrow, you thought bitterly, tightening your grip on the warm bowl in your hands. Your eyes drifted back to him, unable to help yourself. The question burned at the back of your mind: why had he stayed late? You knew he often worked late, but on busy nights like this, he typically stayed at the office rather than going home. Tonight, though, heâd changed that.
You frowned slightly. What was different this time?
You didnât knowâand couldnât have knownâthat the difference was you.
He had seen the storm warning on the news and had sent everyone home early, but you had stayed behind, stubbornly working. He had been about to leave, but seeing you there, so focused, so unaware of the weather worsening, had stopped him in his tracks. Jimin was nothing if not professional, but he had always harboured an unspoken interest in youâa quiet, persistent fondness he never let show.
And now, here you both were.
The silence stretched on, the sound of the rain filling the space between you. You werenât sure how much time had passed, but when you finally opened your mouth to speak, the words were out before you could stop them. And you almost regretted it. Almost.
"Do you have a girlfriend?" The question slipped out before you could stop yourself, your eyes widening in surprise at your own words.
Jiminâs eyes flicked open, locking with yours instantly. There was a quiet amusement in his gaze, and his lips tugged up into that soft, teasing smile that made your heart do something you tried to ignore. He didnât speak right away, just studied you as if he could read everything you werenât saying.
âNo,â he replied, his voice quiet and surprisingly soft. âWhy do you ask?â
You swallowed, suddenly feeling silly, and looked everywhere but at himâout the window, at your hands, the bowl of soup on the table. Anywhere but him.
He leaned back into the couch, clearly amused, a playful edge to his tone. âWhy are you behaving like this?â His smile was still there, small but knowing.
âLike what?â you blurted out, but even as the words left your mouth, you knew it was a bit of a dumb question.
âI donât know. You tell me.â He raised an eyebrow, watching you like you were a puzzle he was determined to figure out.
You stared at him, blinking a few times like heâd just sprouted another head, making his laughter bubble up, soft but genuine.
âWhy are you staring at me like that?â he teased.
âBecause youâre talking weird,â you said, voice a bit sharper than you intended, but your words faltered under his gaze.
He chuckled again, the sound warm and disarming, sending a flutter through your chest. âYouâre behaving weird,â he countered.
You let out a frustrated huff and turned away from him, crossing your arms tightly over your chest, hoping the action would somehow shield you from whatever was happening between the two of you.
He chuckled again, and it was like a spark igniting inside you, frustrating and electrifying all at once. You glared at him, but even that seemed pointless when he was looking at you like thatâlike he could read the thoughts swirling in your head.
The silence that fell was oddly peaceful, but it didnât sit well with you. You always needed something more. Chaos, noise, anything but stillness. Fidgeting in your seat, you couldnât stand it anymore. You broke the silence, your voice sounding louder than you intended.
âMr. Parkââ
He cut you off with a soft smile, sitting up slightly. âYou can call me Jimin,â he said, the words coming out like an invitation, a subtle challenge in his eyes.
You raised an eyebrow, hesitant. You glanced away quickly, feeling the heat creep up your neck as you crossed your arms defensively. âAre you sure?â
His gaze didnât waver, locking onto yours with an intensity that made you feel suddenly exposed, vulnerable in a way you couldnât explain. âWhy do you look so unsure?â he asked, his voice gentle but with a teasing edge.
You stiffened, trying to find somethingâanythingâto say. âYou were perfectly okay threatening me and cursing at me. What happened now?â
His face twisted into a playful look of disbelief. âWhen did Iââ
You were about to cut him off, but the teasing glint in his eyes silenced you.
âHuh?â His head tilted, and his smile grew, mischievous and daring.
âOkay! But I donât mean any of it,â you blurted out, the words tumbling over each other as you sat up straighter, hoping it would make you look less flustered.
âOf course you donât,â he said, his laugh escaping just beneath his words. The playful glint in his eyes only deepened as he relaxed back into the couch, arms spread wide like he was claiming the space between you. A soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and you couldnât help but feel that same pull in your chest, though you tried to ignore it.
You crossed your arms tighter over your chest, trying to regain some control over yourself. âYou really think youâre so charming, donât you?â
He leaned in slightly, his smile widening, and your stomach fluttered despite your best attempts to stay unaffected.
âI donât just think... I know.â His voice was full of that confidence that made your heart race, that impossible assurance that had you questioning everything.
You rolled your eyes, but even you knew it was more for show than anything. Your lips wanted to curl up, but you kept them pressed tight, the heat in your cheeks betraying the hard facade you tried to maintain.
âYeah, right. Your just full of yourself,â you shot back, trying to sound unaffected, but the playful tone that slipped into your voice gave you away.
âMaybe,â he said with a shrug, his grin widening. âBut Iâve got goods to back it up. Just look at how you're blushing.â
Your cheeks burned at his words, and you immediately shifted in your seat, trying to hide the heat spreading across your face. Your heart was racing now, and you could barely keep your breath steady.
âAm not!â you protested, but it came out weak, a poor defence against the blush that was clearly visible.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused, before standing up. âSure, letâs go.â
Confused, you followed him, your feet moving almost mechanically. You barely registered his words at first, still caught in the strange feeling his teasing had left in your chest. âItâs getting late. We should go to bed.â
Something about the way he said "we" made your stomach twist, or was it flutter? You werenât sure. All you could hear now was the odd ringing in your ears, a soft buzz that drowned out everything else.
âWe?â The word slipped from your mouth before you could stop it, confusion knitting your brows together as you watched him.
He gave you a small, almost reassuring smile as he stepped into his bedroom, holding the door open for you. His eyes never left you as he waited, his gaze warm, not at all like you had imagined it would be.
You stepped in hesitantly, your heart pounding with every step you took closer to him. Your mind was swirling, but you couldnât place what was happening. You trusted him, you did, but something about this moment felt differentâfelt new.
âWhat happened?â he asked softly, his hands reaching out to gently pull you toward him, his touch grounding you in a way that made everything else fade into the background.
You blinked, confused. âHuh?â
His eyes searched your face with concern, his brows furrowing as his fingers grazed your cheek. âYouâre so... pale.â
âAm I?â you whispered, suddenly aware of how unsteady you felt.
He didnât seem satisfied with the answer. His touch moved from your face to your forehead, gently pressing as though checking for something. His fingers trailed down to your neck, the soft touch sending shivers down your spine.
You felt lightheaded, almost as if his hand was the only thing keeping you grounded. Your knees wobbled, your breath catching in your throat as your vision blurred.
âWhat happened to you?â His voice was barely a whisper now, a trace of worry creeping in that made your heart thud painfully in your chest.
The softness in his tone made your legs feel even weaker, like they could give out at any moment. Your body trembled slightly under his touch, your mind too foggy to make sense of anything.
Before you could even respond, he scooped you up effortlessly, his strength surprising you. He laid you down gently on the bed, the sudden movement making everything feel even more surreal.
You felt lighter than you ever had, almost weightless, like you could just float away. But your headâyour head felt impossibly heavy, as if you couldnât hold it up anymore. The dizziness washed over you in waves, your senses fading. You barely registered the way his face hovered above you, worry etched deep in his expression as he watched you. His hand was still on your forehead, his touch warm against your cool skin.
You barely registered the way his face hovered above you, worry etched deep in his expression as he watched you. His hand was still on your forehead, his touch warm against your cool skin.
âGod, what... hap-happened?â he murmured again, but you couldnât find the strength to answer. Your vision blurred even further, the world around you spinning uncontrollably. You felt yourself slip away, your body growing heavier.
And then, without warning, everything went black.
You blinked your eyes open, still disoriented, only to find Jimin staring down at you. His face was inches away, concern etched across his features. His hand was gently placed on your arm, and his eyes were wide, scanning your face for any sign of distress. The dim light in the room made the worried expression on his face all the more intense.
"You okay?" His voice was soft, almost hesitant, as he helped you sit up, his hand guiding you gently. He reached for the glass of water from the bedside table, offering it to you with a quiet determination. Without thinking, you drank it in one go, the cool liquid helping to clear the fog in your mind. You nodded weakly, still feeling lightheaded, but trying to reassure him.
"You fainted," he said, his voice unsteady as he watched you closely, his brows furrowed in disbelief. You nodded again, still not fully processing what had just happened.
He looked at you, his eyes wide with surprise, lips parted in a mixture of concern and confusion. His expression was so pure, so real, it made something twist in your chest. You couldnât help but chuckle, though it was soft, a little breathless.
"Iâm fine, Jimin," you reassured him, the words coming out far less convincing than you hoped.
"No, you're not," he said firmly, his voice almost pleading, his tone so filled with worry it made your heart clench. "You fainted. Letâs go to doctor."
"Iâm fine," you repeated, though the words felt weak. His eyes never left yours, searching for any sign that you were telling the truth. His hand reached up, rubbing his face in frustration, his worry only growing.
"And Iâm worried," he said, the words hanging heavy in the air between you. His gaze softened, and you could see it in his eyesâthe deep concern, the care that he couldnât hide.
You felt a strange warmth spread through your chest, something raw and unspoken. But you also didnât want him to act like this, not with you. Not now, not after everything.
âWhy?â Your voice came out softer than you intended, almost a whisper, and you couldnât look him in the eyes. It was the question youâd been asking yourself for so long, and now it slipped out before you could stop it. Your heart raced, your chest tightening as you waited for him to answer.
For a moment, he was silent. His eyes flickered with something unreadable, his gaze softening, and you could feel the tension between you grow thicker, thicker still. Then, as if to break the tension, he slowly reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch so gentle it sent a shiver down your spine. His hand lingered, resting on your skin, as if he wasnât ready to pull away.
âSleep,â he murmured, the word leaving his lips like a tender command. But the last thing you wanted to do was sleep. The night was still young, the rain pouring outside, the sound of it filling the room. The cold breeze from the open window brushed against your skin, but it was nothing compared to the warmth in your chest.
âIâll sleep on the couch in the living room,â he said, as if it was the most natural thing to do. You stared at him, confused, unsure why he was saying that. You hadnât asked him to, hadnât even thought of it.
âWhy?â you asked, your voice cracking just slightly.
âBecause youâre sleeping on my bed,â he said, his voice firm but kind, as if it was obvious. He made you lie back down, covering you with the duvet, the soft fabric comforting against your skin. As he stepped back, you couldnât stop the aching feeling in your chest, that unbearable pull that made your heart beat faster.
He moved toward the door, slow and deliberate, like he didnât want to leave but had to. Every step he took felt like an eternity, and you wanted to call out to him, tell him to stop. But you couldnât. You didnât have the words.
When he reached the door, he paused and turned around to face you. His gaze softened, and he smiledâa small, almost shy smile, but one that made your chest ache. "Sleep tight, love. We have something important to talk about tomorrow." And with that, he closed the door softly behind him.
You lay there in the quiet room, your heart still racing, your mind spinning. You stared at the door, your thoughts scattered, your breath shaky. Did he just� Did he just call you love?
The word echoed in your head, a faint warmth spreading through your veins. It was too much, and yet, you couldnât stop the flutter in your chest. The night had shifted, everything had shifted, but you didnât know what it meant. You didnât know what tomorrow would bring, but for the first time in a long while, you felt a flicker of hope.
And as the rain continued to pour outside, the sound somehow soothing your frayed nerves, you let your eyes flutter shut, your heart still thumping, your thoughts tangled in him.
I donât know if you liked it or not, but please, leave some feedback. Like, tell me how much you loved it or absolutely hated it. Iâm all ears... honestly, Iâm mostly just here for the drama either way.
#thankyou so much for sending me this ask anon#thanks anon!#anon ask#kookiewithluv#bts ffs#bts ff#bts fanfic#bts smut#jimin fic#jimin smut#park jimin#bts jimin#jimin#jimin ah#jimin x reader#jimin x you#jiminshiii
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Gonna ask me to dance, Cowboy?
Jasper Hale X Reader
Summary: Reader was in an accident that damaged her spinal cord and left her temporarily wheelchair bound. It's during this time that the Cullens move to Forks, and she meets and falls in love with Jasper. A little bit of your story, wrapped up with a big surprise at the end. Requested by @twilightlover2007
Words: 2457
Note: Obviously went with Jasper and boy did this take on a life of its own! I hope you like it!!! It's a little cheesy, but that's what I like.
Disclaimer: I have limited knowledge of temporary paralysis and life with a wheelchair. If I'm wrong about anything, please let me know!
---
The accident happened before the Cullens moved to Forks. You donât remember much of it, which the doctor says can be common given the head trauma you experienced. All you know is that you were driving home from a game and a drunk driver decided not to stop at the red light.
The accident left you with some severe damage to your spinal cord. Not irreversible, but enough to strand you in a wheelchair. It took almost two months alone for the fractures in your leg to heal, and then another to find a good physical therapist in Seattle who could work with you.
In the midst of this, the Cullens showed up. And you fell for Jasper like a newborn fawn trying to walk for the first time. A fitting comparison considering your legs worked just as well.Â
Your friends thought you were crazy. Afterall, he was the leastâŠapproachable of the group. Always frowning. Not at all talkative. Everyone thought he was a bit of a grouch. But you knew better.
You met the real Jasper the first Friday after they arrived. It was another game day, meaning your little high school was going all out cheering for the team throughout the day (even though everyone knew you didnât stand a fighting chance).Â
You were making your way to the pep rally at the end of the day when someone jostled you from behind, sending your wheelchair right over the sidewalkâs ledge and into the grass. You cursed the schoolâs outdoor hallways so hard that day. It was raining, as it always was, and the moment your wheels hit the ground, you could feel them sink into the mud.
You were effectively trapped.
Or at least, you thought you were. Until a certain blond appeared out of nowhere.
---
âAre you alright, miss?â
You huff out a laugh, trying to keep a smile despite it all, âYah, yes, Iâm okay. Just a little stu-â
When you look up, the words get stuck in your throat. Jasper Hale. Jasper Hale is standing right in front of you, in the rain, hair already sticking to his face, and despite the concern dripping from his features, you canât help but notice how absolutely gorgeous he is. How did you not notice before?
Before you can stop yourself, the thoughts spill out of your mouth, âWow, youâre really pretty.â
Shock flickers across the blondâs face, though itâs quickly replaced by a soft smirk that makes his eyes crinkle just a little, somehow making him look more attractive. You blink. And blink. And blink. Until what you said finally sinks in.
Your face goes impossibly red.Â
âI am so sorry,â you squeak, eyes wide. His smile only widens when you continue to sputter, âIâm fine! Really. And um, I, you can, you donât have to worry! Iâll just-â
You try to push yourself forward, anything to escape this moment, but your wheels just spin futilely in the mud. Youâre not going anywhere, not without help, and Jasper seems to know that, his gold eyes glinting with amusement. You purse your lips, face only going darker.
âWould you like help, darlinâ?â Jasper asks, voice low and honey-like, and wow - it seems so unfair for someone to look so handsome and sound like that too.
You cast him an embarrassed smile, âYes please. If you really donât mind, that is.â
The blond chuckles, the sound making your heart flutter. He makes it look effortless, the way he maneuvers you out of the grass and back onto the hallway sidewalk. You hum happily when youâre back on solid ground, wheeling back and forth a bit to dislodge the mud from your rims.
âThatâs better,â you sigh, spinning back to face him, âThank you so much.â
Jasper nods, âIt was my pleasure, miss.â
You roll your eyes playfully, âPlease, call me (Y/n). (Y/n) (L/n). Miss makes me feel so old, and Iâm like, a hundred percent sure youâre older than me.â
Something flickers behind his eyes, but it disappears as quickly as it came.Â
âWell, itâs a pleasure to meet you, Miss (Y/n).â You narrow your eyes, but he only grins a little teasingly, which you refuse to admit makes your pulse race even more. âThe nameâs Jasper Hale.â
âNice to meet you too, Jasper.â Officially at least.
âI suppose you were headinâ to the rally?â
Your nose scrunches,âYep. Before the impromptu shower, at least.â
âWould yâmind if I accompany you?âÂ
Blinking, you glance up at him in surprise. Jasper just looks down at you, face still set in a charming, calm smile, so different from the scowl youâd grown accustomed to in passing. Heâs being genuine. Actually genuine. It makes your face go warm all over again.
âI think Iâd like that.â
---
You donât know what possessed Jasper Hale to help you that day, but he did.
From then on, you and Jasper became friends. He was still a bit odd, but his whole family was. And you liked them. Even Rosalie, whose bluntness was refreshing compared to most of the girls at your school. You befriended all of them, but you and Jasper were particularly close.
Falling for him was easy. Between the soft smile he seemed to reserve only for you and the way he always supported you, how could you not? You realized it after a particular hard day of physical therapy, when your legs were aching and it felt like you were making absolutely no progress. It was a day that Jasper offered to pick you up because your dad had to work late.
---
Jasper can tell youâre upset before he even reaches you.
You sit at the entrance to the rehab center, head ducked, fingers fidgeting in your lap. You see Jasperâs shoes first before heâs kneeling in front of you, honey eyes dark with concern as they flicker over your features. You look back at him, eyes blurry with unshed tears.
The blondâs gaze softens, âOh, darlinâ.â
And you break.
All the pent up frustration and guilt youâve been holding onto comes pouring out. You manage to stay quiet, barely, but your whole body trembles with your tears as you collapse forward into Jasperâs arms. He holds you close, not saying a word, just humming softly into your hair.
The longer you stay like that, the calmer you feel. Itâs like magic, the storm of your emotions calming to a dull roar, until you can take in a few deep breaths
Itâs only when your hiccuping goes quiet that he draws you back, eyes scanning you again. You glance down, feeling too raw, too vulnerable like this, with his thoughtful gaze burning over you. But you also feel undeniably safe somehow.
âYouâre doinâ so well, darlin,â he eventually murmurs, voice low, soothing your frayed edges. âI know youâve been hurtinâ and youâre feelinâ like giving up, but weâre all so proud of you. Someday youâll be back on your feet and Iâll be here âtil that day comes. And long after it.â
Itâs the most you think youâve ever heard him say at once. His words ring with something so genuine, you canât help but melt.
âThanks, Jasper.â
âAlways, darlin.â
---
It felt like more than a promise about that day. More than just a friend being there for another friend. And it was the moment you realized you really liked Jasper Hale.Â
It was only a matter of time before you learned about his world.
None of them told you, of course. They couldnât. But the truth was hard to deny when a lone vampire came through Forks and almost killed you.Â
You knew it was a bad idea to go out by yourself. Even though your legs were getting stronger from your perseverance in physical therapy, you still couldnât walk by yourself. Which made you quite the easy target.
Luckily, Jasper was just in time to save you.
After the shock, though, came all your questions. Why did that man try to bite you? How did Jasper throw him all the way down the alley? How did he know where to find you and that you were in trouble?
A silently distraught Jasper ended up taking you back to the Cullen house. The air was tense, except for Alice, who was more than excited. She foresaw it all, of course.
Carlisle explained it all to you as Jasper paced off to the side. A scowl lingered on his lips, his eyes set on something distant. The moment you felt a flicker of panic though, he was there, kneeling at your side, smoothing a hand over your shoulder. You covered his with your own, holding on so tightly that if he were human, he'd probably be hissing in pain. You had a good grip strength from wheeling around for a few months.
It took time to settle into this new reality. Jasper gave you space to process, scared to push you too hard, but you wouldnât have it. Vampire or not, you couldnât stand the distance. You hadnât realized just how ingrained he was in your life until then. Whenever something happened, no matter how small it was, you wanted to rush to him and tell him everything. You hated life without him.
So you ended up asking him out.
Dating came as naturally as breathing. Nothing changed. He still drove you to physical therapy and walked you to all of your classes. Only now, he would press a kiss to your forehead when you parted ways and take you on dates after every p.t. appointment.Â
You had never been happier.
Thatâs when you came up with an idea for the upcoming school formal.
---
âYou ready, darlin?â Jasper pauses at your side of the car, wheelchair pulled out and set up behind him.
You grin, squashing the nerves buzzing in your chest before he can sense them, âYes! Now help me out of here, mister.â
The blond chuckles. He helps you down from the car, touch overwhelmingly tender, as if heâs scared of breaking you. Which, you suppose, he could. You settle into your wheelchair with practiced ease, your dress only causing a little trouble.
The night starts off perfectly. You take your pictures and meet up with his siblings inside the venue. Everything is beautiful. As usual, Forks high went all out with the theme. Itâs something cheesy, like âa night under the starsâ, everything draped in a deep navy blue, the ceiling decorated with shimmering stars.
When the dancing starts, you give Alice the cue. She sends you a little wink before dashing off to the dj booth. You catch Edward grinning out of the corner of your eye. It was impossible to keep him out of it, what with the whole mind reading thing, so you just shoot the man a playful glare. He stifles a chuckle, making an excuse to go get some punch, despite the fact he canât drink it.
Sighing softly, you steel your nerves, spinning back to your boyfriend.
âHey,â you call, catching the cuff of his suit.
Jasperâs eyes turn to you, and oh, wow, youâll never get used to that. The way he looks at you, itâs like youâre one of the stars decorating the night. His eyes glow with an overwhelming warmth and something so so fond. All of a sudden it feels like youâre the only two in the room, everything else fading away.
âYes, darlin?âHe hums, slipping your hand into his to brush his thumb over your knuckles.
The touch sends sparks cascading over your skin, settling in your chest among the wild butterflies. You bite your lip to try and hold back a massive smile.
âYou gonna ask me to dance, cowboy?â You tease.
A smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth.
Jasper makes a show of pretending to tip a hat, voice bright with amusement, âMy apologies maâam. I shouldnât have kept you waitinâ.â
âMmm, Iâll forgive you,â you hum, biting back a laugh, âjust this once, Mister Hale.â
âThatâs very kind of you, darlin. Now, would you give me the pleasure of escortinâ you to the dance floor?â
âWhy, of course.â
Jasper figures heâll hold you up as you dance, or maybe spin you while you sit. Anything you want.
Except you do neither of those things. Instead, you gather every ounce of your strength, and shakily push yourself to your feet. Your wheelchair disappears (thank you Alice) and you stand there, all on your own.
After a few seconds, youâre certain that your legs wonât give out, and glance up at the blond expectantly.
Jasper stares back at you, eyes wide, brows arched. It almost looks like heâs forgotten to breathe, his whole body rigid. Shocked. Your grin finally breaks loose, so wide it makes your cheeks ache. Squeezing his hand, you take a tentative step closer. A little wobbly, but you stay standing. Itâs only one step, but -
Youâre walking.
In an instant, Jasperâs hands are cupping your face, and itâs only then you realize youâre crying. Tears race down around your smile and heâs quick to wipe them away, drawing you close so he can rest your foreheads together.
âMy Lord, darlin-â He lets out a breathless laugh. â-youâre goinâ tâmake this old manâs heart start again.â
You giggle, curling your arms around his neck, âI wanted to surprise you.â
âBeen a long time since Iâve been surprised.â
âBut I did?â
âYes, you certainly did.â
Jasper leans down, pressing his lips to yours. Itâs soft, featherlight, and you feel like youâre floating. Itâs perfect. Everything about it is perfect and so much better than you expected.
The vampire pulls back, just enough to whisper against your lips, âYouâre amazinâ darlin. Absolutely amazinâ.â
âI couldnât have done it without you,â you hum back, âNow, dance with me, cowboy.â
Your song comes on. The one you first danced with Jasper to in your kitchen, when he set you on his feet and held you close to support your weight. A knowing grin falls across his lips, his eyes creasing as he looks down at you.
âIt would be my pleasure.â
Unlike that first time, you donât have to stand on his feet. You donât even have to clutch onto him to stay upright. Instead, you rest your hands on his shoulders, and Jasper traces his along your waist. The two of you move together slowly, perfectly.
By the end of it, youâre leaning against him, head tucked under his chin, just soaking in the feeling of his arms around you, his lips pressed to the crown of your head. Your legs are shaking, but you donât care.
This is everything you could ever ask for.
---
I had fun writing this!! It came really clearly for me, though it ended up being a lot longer than I thought because I wanted to add so much exposition.
#reader insert#x reader#reader#jasper hale#jasper whitlock#twilight saga#twilight#jasper hale x reader#jasper x reader#jasper whitlock x reader#sorry for any mistakes#correct me if i'm wrong
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Young and beautiful
hyunjin x reader. mutual obsession. lots of fluff. they are in love your honor (but still haven't told each other).
feedback is highly appreciated <3
You never really understood the difference between loving someone and being in love with them.
That is until you met Hyunjin.
You didn't love him the way you loved sunsets or the smell of earth after the rain.
You were in love with him. You were so submerged in Hyunjin's love that it was all you could feel within you at times.
Other emotions come and go in you, like tidal waves lapping softly at the shore. But the love for him stays- it echoes inside you like the distant ringing of a cathedral bell.
You imagined that your love for Hyunjin slowly seeped into your body and intertwined itself with every atom that formed you. That loving him became a certainty for your being, just like your name or the lines stretching across your palm.
Still, despite all those grand feelings you harbored, you never dared to confess to him. Those five words were stuck in your throat, and you had to force them down each time Hyunjin existed near you.
You didn't want to scare him off. But most importantly, you didn't want him to feel forced to reciprocate your feelings.
So you didn't say it. But you kissed the mole under his eye whenever his face was close enough to you. You sent him daily reminders to drink water because he tended to forget it. And you slipped encouraging notes in the pockets of his jackets, so he'd find them randomly throughout his days.
Those were wordless confessions you sent his way in the hopes that he'd understand. That he'd feel your love and he'd store it inside him, keeping it safe until the day you finally found the courage to say it.
And on mornings like this one, it was especially hard to not shout your love for the whole world to hear.
You rose before Hyunjin, and the sun was streaming through your curtains- its golden rays casting an ethereal glow on his sleeping figure. You slowly trace the outline of Hyunjin's face, sliding your finger down his eyebrows, his eyes, his nose and his plump lips. His lips reminded you of soft cushions, rosy and yours.
"Morning, angel," he whispers, eyes still closed, and you bury your head in his neck, "Morning, baby."
His arms instinctively wrap around you, pulling you closer to him. But it wasn't enough. It was never enough with him. You wished you could crawl inside of him and build a home for you to rest in there.
Hyunjin places a soft kiss on the top of your head, and you retaliate by kissing his neck. Once, twice, and then you stop counting.
"I think the rest of my body is getting jealous of my neck," he giggles and you lean away, smiling cheekily. "Really? We can't have that, can we?"
"No, that'd be sooo unfair," he pouts playfully and you laugh, before straddling his lap. You start with a kiss to his forehead and he smiles at you so brightly, you feel sorry for the sun shining outside, for it could never rival with your Hyunjin.
You then kiss his eyes- the left one first, then the right one. The tip of his nose is next, his rosy cheeks follow, and finally, his mouth. His lips move against yours slowly, his hands finding your hair and gently threading through it. There was no rush- you had the rest of your life to love him.
When you both inevitably pull away, panting for air, Hyunjin grabs your hand and places it on top of his wildly beating heart.
"You feel it?" he asks breathlessly and you nod timidly in response. Sometimes you couldn't believe the effect you had on him.
"Whenever you laugh, I feel as if my heart is in the palm of your hand. And you are squeezing it to the beat of your laugh," he speaks quietly, making your breath hitch in your throat.
"When you kiss me, I feel as if my skin is on fire, tingling all over from your lips. But it's not a burning sensation, it's more of a warm one. You make me forget all the days I've spent feeling cold before you." He clasps your hand in his tightly, as if holding it gave him the force to speak.
"And when you look at me I feel as if you are the answer to all my prayers. Even the ones I haven't made yet." He pauses, gazing deeply into your eyes, "You are everything to me, yn. And I don't- I don't mind if you don't feel the same. I love you enough for the both of us."
"You love me?" you question, eyes wide staring into his. It felt as if your heart was leaping out of your chest, leaving you dazed in its trail.
"I do."
You start to giggle, bewildered by his words, which then morphs into a fullblown laugh. Hyunjin simply looks at you, a confused smile adorning his face.
"So you're telling me," you try to speak through your laughter, "I've been torturing myself for the past weeks so I wouldn't tell you and you love me?"
"Wait. You love me too?"
"Do I love you?" you repeat incredulously, "Hyunjin you are everything I've ever loved and more in human form."
"Say it," he whispers breathlessly and you beam at him.
"I am in love with you, Hwang Hyunjin."
"Say it again," he grins, as he grabs your body and spins it around, until you are laying on the bed and he's hovering over you.
"I am in love with you."
"Again."
"I'm in love with you," you giggle and he sighs happily, leaning his forehead on yours.
"I think your laugh just gained a strong competitor."
"What do you mean?"
"You saying I love you has just become my favorite sound," he explains, kissing your forehead gently.
"My poor laugh was dethroned?" you ask and he nods sadly, "Unfortunately. But you know what my favorite favorite sound will be ?"
"What?"
"You saying yes when I ask you to marry me."
"Who says my answer is yes?" you tease, even as an evident blush creeps up your neck.
"I'll keep asking until you agree."
"it might take time."
"I'll still ask even when I'm seventy."
"Yeah? even when I'm no longer young and beautiful?" you joke, referencing to one of your favorite songs to listen to together.
"Nonsense, you'll always be beautiful. And I...", he leans down, bopping his nose with yours, "I will love you till my last breath."
"You do love me," you whisper in relief, any hint of teasing gone from your voice and he smiles softly at you.
"More than you'll ever know."
#hyunjin this is me confessing my love to you#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#stray kids#stray kids fluff#skz au#skz fluff#hyunjin#hyunjin fluff#hwang hyunjin fluff#hyunjin x reader#kpop imagines#stray kids imagine#skz headcanons#stray kids recs#stray kids headcanons#stray kids fanfic#skz hwang hyunjin#skz hyunjin#skz scenarios#stray kids fanfiction#skz imagines
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Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 97 (Cherished Friendships)
Conrad tried to make breakfast for his hosts while a familiar light rain drizzled outside, but Neal rushed into the kitchen to stop him. "It's an old stove. Real finnicky," he insisted. "Maybe you should let someone else do that. Heather, maybe."
"It's no trouble. I had a stove like this growing up," said Conrad, but Neal shook his head.
"It's not a good idea."
Daisy shook her head with a gentle chuckle. "Don't let him scare you. He's just trying to scam a meal out of his daughter now that she's as good as any gourmet chef."
They all knew it was more than that, but they went along with the excuse because it was easier that way. "It's not like I'm making anyone ambrosia," Heather said. There was nothing special about her scrambled eggs and bacon, but she took over at the stove while Conrad hung out with sleepy Lavender, instead.
The early morning rains let up and the sun came out, so Heather and Conrad next headed to Old New Henford, where Everett, Spencer, and their children had settled well into the mild winter season - at least it was more seasonal than their last home in Oasis Springs.
"Greyson, say hello to your godmother, Heather."
"Hi, Heather," he said cheerily. "Hey! You have glasses, too!"
"I told you she did." Spencer looked apologetically at her old friend. "He just got glasses recently and was feeling insecure, so I was trying to tell him all the awesome people I know who rock glasses."
"Your glasses look really good, Greyson. The bright red is so cool!" Heather wasn't lying to him about his glasses, though she played up the excitement to help Spencer convince him to embrace this change in his appearance. "I've had glasses for pretty much as long as I can remember, and I love wearing them. If I looked as cool as you, I'd love them even more!"
Seven-year-old Greyson smiled up at Heather. "You look pretty cool," he said, before running off to play on the monkey bars in their backyard.
Heather watched firsthand the bond between Spencer and her sons. Especially four-year-old Jett, who was Heather's biological child, but was treated the same as his siblings. He followed Spencer everywhere and loved making everyone laugh. "I seriously don't know why you doubt yourself, Spence," Heather gushed. "You're an incredible mom."
They also met Everett and Spencer's third little miracle - a daughter they named Violet. She was about six months younger than Lavender, with big blue eyes like her mother.
"I hope you don't mind that their names are so similar," said Spencer. "I've just always loved the name and I thought maybe the girls might grow up to be friends as close as we are. If that happens, their names are a perfect set!"
Heather smiled at the thought. "I think Violet's name is perfect, and I'd love for her and Lavender to have as many adventures together as we have!"
"I'm still planning to take you to Selvadorada with me next time, if you can get away."
Heather nodded. "And I'm still planning to get away, as long as business stays as manageable as its been lately!"
Everett's father Bob stopped by to say hello, and Heather thought to ask him about Agnes and Agatha. "How does it feel seeing clones of your dead mothers walk around town?"
He laughed. "It was hard to get used to, but now it comforts me whenever I see them. They're together forever, just like they wanted to be."
They left for San Myshuno after leaving the Pancakes' after lunch, picking up Ash from the Landgraabs' penthouse before stopping in to visit with Heather's old friend, Dylan Richards, and her family. Pearl was a year and a half older than Ash, but their mothers were happy to see them get along.
"You can do my math homework?"
Ash shrugged. "It's not that hard. Just numbers."
"I don't like numbers," Pearl complained. "I prefer dancing, but every time I want to practice, Darrell gets in the way!" Pearl's toddler brother perked up from the sofa at the mention of his name. "Be glad you have sisters. Little brothers are so annoying!"
Pearl's father, Gavin, chuckled. "He just wants to spend time with his big sister, sweetheart. He loves you!"
"Why can't he love me and be less annoying?" she moaned.
Gavin took Darrell into the hall to help him use up some of his energy, and by now, Lavender was struggling. It had been days since she'd been in her own crib and felt the familiar surroundings of their home in Brindleton Bay. Though she'd been her wiggly, happy self for most of the weekend, she was fading fast.
Heather had hoped to stop in to see Holly and Kris' daughter, Betta, who was only a few weeks younger than Lavender, but Heather and Conrad knew it was time to head home.
(Look at that face. She would not stand being passed around for cuddles in one more stranger's arms this day!)
They knew they'd see Heather's youngest niece during the Winterfest holidays, but they still had a few weeks of work left until the festive season. ->
<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start
NOTE: Did I give Heather and Everett's children all colour names? Yes I did. Am I plotting something? Maybe. Will we know what that is for years? No. đ Did plotting encourage me to give Violet a better outfit than the default medieval cc dress and bucket hat she aged up in? Also no.
#sims 4#sims 4 gameplay#sims 4 screenshots#sims 4 legacy#sims in bloom#ts4#ts4 gameplay#ts4 legacy#ts4 screenshots#sims 4 story#ts4 story#legacy challenge#sims legacy#ts4 legacy challenge#gen 2#san myshuno#henford on bagley#gavin richards#bob pancakes#alice spencer kim#eric lewis
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sparrow in the storm â ais
summary: ais becomes a sanctuary for not only one, but two little sparrows.
word count: 1.1k
content warnings: gn!reader ⊠established relationship ⊠fluff ⊠mild mild suggestive themes ⊠reader wearing aisâs yukata cuz its their god given right
notes: a while ago, @hollana sent me cute ask one + ask two and @danger-bird made adorable fanart for it. they really made my entire month! so this is dedicated to them :) this is also a birthday gift for @danger-bird, as today is their birthday today. i hope they have a wonderful celebration!
The bright melody of birdsong carried you out of the haze of your dreams.
So soft and sweet it was, it wrapped around you like a silken blanket, a touch warmer than the drowsy heat emanating from the fabric of Aisâs yukata that covered your entire body at the moment.
The birdsong was serenading in your left ear, so you languidly turned in that direction, your nose immediately brushing against the thigh of the Monster sitting upright beside you, cross-legged. You peeled your eyes open, and your world delicately smudged red from the eerie glow radiating from the waters of the Seaspring.
Between the cradle of his red horns, an actual sparrow was nesting in the darkness of Aisâs hair.
You stare at the bird for a few seconds, watching the crystalline rain droplets gather like gem clusters on Ais's head. âSo youâre finally replacing me, it seems.â
Eyes closed, Ais smirked. âJealousy doesnât suit you.â
You roll your eyes so hard that it's a miracle they didnât become lodged in your skull.
You sat up and yawned, idly fidgeting with the bandages wrapped around your arms. âWhen did you even get a real sparrow, anyway?â
âShe flew in with the storm,â was Aisâs soft reply, and you listen to the din of rain thundering the rooftop of the Seaspring like a barrage of fists striking down from the heavens, the cloudy light seeping in from the outside painting his bare chest in translucent silver splashes. âShe was weak. Couldnât leave her out in the cold.â
You smiled a bit as the bird, still singing its merry little song, fluttered down from his hair to nuzzle against his face. She truly adored him, no different than any other creature that falls in love with Ais when they cross his path. âSo you let her nest in your hair?â
âNothing is stopping you from making a nest yourself, sparrow.â
You roll your eyes yet again. Ais is the only one alive who can make you feel heavenly tenderness and agitation that burns hotter than any hellfire. âYou do realize Iâm not a real bird, right?â
Ais opened his eyes and turned his head to fully regard you then. Your heart skipped a beat once, twice, and a third time as he looked you up and down slowly as if caressing you with the sharpness of his eyes. You pulled his yukata tighter around your body, suddenly becoming shy. It was almost hard to breathe when his eyes went warm like that and became lovelier than crimson jewels glittering in the light of golden sunshine.
Ais hummed thoughtfully. âCouldâve fooled me.â
You blink owlishly at him. Then, incensed, you promptly smacked his shoulder, hot irritation and a sickening sense of warmth going to war inside you. âYou are so incredibly annoying.â
The bastard began to chuckle, and his new songbird had the gall to chirp alongside him as if she were laughing at your embarrassment too. How dare that cute, feathery homewrecker?
âŠOkay, maybe you were a little jealous, but you would quite literally swallow a thousand teacup shards than ever admit to that, so you opened your mouth to say something particularly acerbic and snarky when suddenly Ais pursed his lips and whistled a colorful melody, cupping his hands together.
You and the bird both reacted as if Ais plucked the string of some latent instinct in your bodies. The bird fluttered down to rest in his large waiting palms, and you couldnât help but be drawn in by his gravitational pull and the need to be near him and soak up the rest of his misty heat like a flower drinking the last dredges of summer rain.
You press into his side and watch Aisâs calloused thumbs gently smooth through the dandelion fluff of the birdâs feathers, the little thing happily thrilling all the while, before looking up at his face and feeling your heart melt instantly.
There was a certain radiance to Ais when he cared for something or someone. It was like trailing fingers along the surface of iridescent water, yearning to crack below the glowing surface to discover the beauty underneath. You know what youâll find in those waters will make you feel whole again.
There was a softness to his gaze, a look you knew he reserved for you and you alone, especially when he thought you werenât looking, embers sparking from the depths of his eyes, keeping you warm when you couldnât do it yourself. You wanted him to look at you like that always, and you wanted his hands, the same hands that cradled the singing sparrow with a practiced gentleness, the same hands that held you with the same reverence, to always hold yours until the whole world rotten away.
âShe has your eyes,â Ais murmured, resting his cheek on top of your head. You softly snorted but did not offer a rebuttal this time. You can let him have his delusions just this once. âYou think sheâll let us keep her?â
You nod, and after he lets the bird fly back to her rightful place upon his head, you let him pull you into his lap. âI donât see why not. Itâs safer here than out there, even if itâs the scariest place I've ever slept in.â
Ais chuckled against the crown of your head, a rich sound that sent decadent shivers up your spine. âYâknow, I never had two singing sparrows live with me before. This is going to be nice.â
You snort softly against his chest. He was pushing it with this âwho is the real sparrowâ contest. âUh, what kind of song do I sing? I donât consider yelling at you all the time to be particularly soothing.â
Ais hummed. âYou sing a different kind of song, not the kind made for polite company but for my ears alone. I like how needy you sound when I -â
This was a learning moment to stop taking his bait.
You jerk your head back far enough to make contact with his sternum, and he lets out a short huff of startled breath. You pull his yukata over your face, desperately trying to hide the savage scarlet burning of your cheeks. âI hate you. Iâm going back to sleep. Donât wake me up ever again. Have fun spending time with your new lover.â
Even when struggling to catch his breath, Ais still dared to chuckle at your red-hot embarrassment. You wouldâve enjoyed the sound of his laughter if you didnât want to strangle him to death.
Soon, the sweet melody of birdsong, the torrential storm outside, and Aisâs heartbeatâa firm and steady drumbeat against your earâlulled you into a soft, safe dream where everything you desired was within reach.
#â â writing#ais x reader#touchstarved game#ais touchstarved#touchstarved ais#touchstarved x reader#touchstarved game x reader#touchstarved ais x reader
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