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lila-lou · 2 months ago

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✨His second exception - Pt. 19/?✨

Summary: The moment Ben found out you were pregnant was probably the happiest moment of his life. However, happiness proved fleeting. Now, he is faced with the aftermath of his shattered dreams. Of what is left of you, and what is left of him.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, fluff

Word Count: 4638

A/N: This is the sequel to “His only exeption” - and Part 19 of "His second exception".

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙

As the evening settled in and you stepped inside the house with all the shopping bags in hand, you were greeted by the comforting stillness of home. The sound of the door closing echoed softly, and you took a deep breath, feeling both excited and a little nervous about what you had planned for tonight.

Ben was sprawled out on the couch, watching TV with a relaxed expression. He glanced over as you walked in, his eyebrows lifting slightly at the sight of all the bags you were carrying. “Looks like someone did some serious damage at the mall”, he teased, smirking as he turned his attention fully to you. “What, did you buy the whole store?”.

You rolled your eyes playfully, setting the bags down by the door. “Just a few things for the baby… and maybe a few things for me”, you said with a mischievous smile.

Ben raised an eyebrow, clearly interested now. “Oh? What kind of things?”.

You chuckled, shaking your head as you started sorting through the bags. “You’ll see soon enough. Patience”.

He grinned, leaning back on the couch, his eyes following your movements. “I’m not exactly known for my patience, sweetheart”.

You laughed, feeling your heart flutter slightly. As you unpacked the baby clothes and set them aside, you noticed Ben’s eyes flicking to the other bag—the one with the lingerie. His curiosity was piqued, but you knew you had to draw it out just a little longer.

“I’m going to go try something on”, you said casually, picking up the bag with the delicate lingerie inside. “Don’t go anywhere”.

Ben’s grin widened, clearly catching on. “Oh, I’m not going anywhere”, he murmured, his voice low and full of promise. “Take your time”.

You disappeared into the bedroom, closing the door behind you as you carefully pulled out the lingerie set you had chosen earlier. The soft, sheer fabric felt delicate in your hands as you slipped it on, adjusting the lace and bows just right. You took a moment to glance in the mirror, feeling a surge of confidence as you smoothed your hands over the fabric. Despite the changes your body had gone through, you felt beautiful—and you knew Ben would think so too.

With a deep breath, you opened the bedroom door and stepped out, making your way back into the living room where Ben was waiting. His eyes were fixed on the TV at first, but the moment he saw you, everything else faded from his focus. His gaze darkened, his usual playful smirk disappearing as his eyes slowly raked over you from head to toe.

“Wow”, he breathed, his voice low and husky. “You look… fucking gorgeous”.

You smiled, feeling a rush of satisfaction at his reaction. “You like it?”, you asked, stepping closer to him.

His hand immediately went to your waist, his fingers tracing the sheer fabric as he pulled you closer. “Like it?”, he repeated, his voice rough with desire. “I love it”.

As Ben’s palms brushed over the sheer cups of the lingerie, you felt an instant, electrifying response. The delicate fabric barely concealed your skin, and his touch sent a shiver through you. Your nipples hardened almost immediately under the gentle pressure of his hands.

You stood between his legs, feeling his warmth and the intensity of his gaze as he explored the soft lace. You bit your lip, trying to contain the gasp that threatened to escape as his fingertips traced over your sensitive skin.

Without warning, Ben’s hands tightened around your waist, and with a swift motion, he pulled you onto his lap, your body pressed flush against his. The sudden movement made you gasp, your heart skipping a beat as you straddled him, feeling the firm strength of his body beneath you. His grip on your hips was possessive yet gentle, guiding you into place as his eyes darkened with desire.

“You look so damn good”, he muttered, his voice low and gravelly, his gaze never leaving yours. His hands slipped down your sides, fingers tracing over the sheer fabric, sending sparks of heat through you with every touch.

Your hands instinctively found their way to his shoulders, steadying yourself as you leaned into him, the soft fabric of your lingerie brushing against him. He groaned softly, his lips brushing against the hollow of your throat, planting hot, deliberate kisses that left you breathless.

“Ben…”, you whispered, unable to finish the thought. The heat of his body and the teasing friction of the lace between you two were driving you wild, every movement making you crave more.

He grinned against your skin.

You could feel Ben’s erection pressing insistently against you through the fabric of his sweatpants.

As you began to slowly rock your hips, the friction was electrifying. Each subtle movement created a delicious pressure that made you both gasp. Ben's hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding your movements with a mix of urgency and tenderness. His breath hitched, and he let out a low groan, clearly responding to your every motion.

"Fuck", he muttered, his voice rough with need. His hands slid up your back, his fingers splaying out as he pulled you even closer. His lips found yours in a heated kiss, filled with a mix of passion and desperation.

You moaned softly into the kiss, feeling the intensity of the moment as you continued to rock against him. The heat between you both was almost overwhelming, making every touch, every movement feel incredibly intimate. His hands slid down to your thighs, squeezing gently as he guided you with a growing urgency.

"Keep doing that", he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of your mutual breaths and the soft rustle of fabric.

Your hips moved with increasing confidence, the sensation of him beneath you growing more intense with every pass.

As Ben continued to kiss down your neck, his breath hot and heavy against your skin, you felt a surge of boldness. With a trembling hand, you slipped it beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, feeling the warmth of his skin. His breath hitched, and he let out a low groan of approval as you reached for his erection.

Carefully, you pulled it free, feeling the firmness of him in your hand. Ben’s body tensed and he gasped softly against your neck, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he adjusted to the new sensation. The heat and hardness of him contrasted sharply with the softness of the lingerie you wore.

As you grinned, Ben’s hands moved with a sureness that matched the intensity in his eyes. He lifted you slightly, an unspoken coordination between your movements, and helped to pull aside the delicate fabric of your panties. The cool air mingled with the warmth of your arousal, your folds glistening, ready for him.

Ben’s breath caught as he took in the sight, his gaze darkening even more, if possible. His fingers traced the softness of your skin, teasing at the edges of your arousal before exploring more deeply, making you shudder with anticipation.

You moaned softly, leaning into his touch, your own hands tightening around him. The sensation of his fingers, gentle yet deliberate, exploring you, drew a gasp from your lips. Each touch was electrifying, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body.

Ben watched your reactions closely, his movements becoming more purposeful as he found the rhythm that made your breath hitch and your body arch towards him. His other hand remained firmly on your hip, holding you steady as he guided you, slowly aligning your bodies until you were positioned just right.

With a look that was both questioning and intense, he sought your confirmation, and upon seeing your eager nod, he carefully guided you down, helping you take him inside. The sensation of joining was overwhelming, a perfect fit that drew a deep, satisfying moan from both of you.

As you began to move your hips in a slow, deliberate rhythm, the connection between you deepened with each subtle motion. You felt every detail of him, each contour that meshed so perfectly with your own. Ben leaned his head back, a quiet grunt escaping him as the sensation intensified. His hands gripped your hips more firmly, guiding your movements to match the growing urgency building within both of you.

The room seemed to pulse with the heat of your joined bodies. Ben’s fingers dug into your hips, a silent plea for you to continue, to intensify the rhythm. His other hand traveled up your spine, sending shivers through you as it moved to the back of your neck, pulling you down for a deep, passionate kiss. His mouth moved against yours with the same fervor that his body moved with yours, each kiss punctuating the rhythm you set.

As you continued to move, Ben’s breath grew more ragged, each thrust drawing deeper groans from him.

He broke the kiss briefly, his voice a low, rough whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. “You know”, he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours, “no one’s ever felt as good around me as you do. Your tight pussy… fuck, it’s like you were made for this. Made for me”.

The heat of his words and the raw honesty in his voice only intensified the pleasure you were both experiencing.

Feeling a rush from his words, you leaned in closer, whispering against his lips, “Show me then. Show me how much better I am”.

Ben’s response was immediate and fervent. His hands tightened around you, a mix of possessiveness and adoration flashing through his eyes. “Every single time with you is like nothing I’ve ever felt”, he said, his voice husky. He adjusted his grip, lifting you slightly to meet his deep thrusts more directly. “Trust me, no one has ever come close”.

The air between you crackled with electricity, each word and touch amplifying the heat.

“You make me forget everyone before you”, his voice strained with effort as he met your movements.

You gasped, overwhelmed by the depth of his strokes and the sincerity in his voice. “Make me feel it”, you teased breathlessly, meeting his gaze with a provocative smile

Ben’s grin was both wicked and affectionate. He shifted, his hands guiding your hips in a rhythm that was both punishing and exquisitely paced. “Ask and you shall receive”, he murmured. With that, he increased his pace, his movements becoming even more deliberate and focused. Each thrust was a wordless declaration, a testament to the intensity of his feelings for you.

The sound of your joined bodies filled the room, a rhythmic symphony that matched the rapid beat of your hearts. Ben leaned forward, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck, his breath hot against your ear. “You feel that?”, he growled lowly, his voice thick with desire. “That’s how much better you are”.

Ben gently pushed you down onto the couch, positioning you beneath him. His gaze was heated and focused as he shifted his movements to maintain the pace—hard and unyielding—each thrust punctuated by a low groan from deep within him.

With a deliberate slowness, Ben bent his head down to your chest, his breath hot against the delicate fabric of your lingerie. He kissed you through the sheer material, his lips brushing against your sensitive nipples. The sensation of his hot mouth, combined with the roughness of his pace, sent a wave of mixed pain and pleasure through your body, heightening your senses.

He alternated between teasing kisses and slightly firmer nips, each touch sending shocks of desire straight to your core. You arched your back, pushing against him, needing more. His hands roamed over your body, one hand steadying your hip to keep the rhythm, the other tracing up your side to cup your breast over the lingerie, squeezing gently in rhythm with his thrusts.

The combination of his rough pace and the gentle, teasing exploration of your upper body was overwhelming. His deep, controlled movements drove you closer to the edge, while his lips and hands worshiped your body with a reverence that only Ben could convey.

You reached up, tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, urging him on without words. Ben responded with a low chuckle, his breath vibrating against your skin as he intensified both his kisses and his thrusts. The dual sensation of being filled deeply while also being adored so thoroughly was exquisite.

Amid the escalating pleasure, a breathless moan escaped you, laced with a teasing edge that reflected the intensity of the moment. “Now I see why…”, you managed to gasp out between thrusts, your voice a sultry mix of delight and mischief. “I can understand all those women… how they got lost in this”.

Ben’s reaction was immediate, his body tensing slightly, the look in his eyes burning with a new intensity—a mixture of pride and a deeper, more passionate resolve. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear, his voice a husky whisper that sent shivers down your spine. “But none of them”, he paused, punctuating each word with a deliberate thrust, “ever meant anything like you do”.

His words, though simple, struck deep, intertwining with the physical connection to add layers of emotion to the raw physicality of your encounter. Each movement of his hips now felt like a claim, a declaration that you were irrevocably his, just as he was yours.

Ben’s hands gripped you tighter, his movements becoming even more purposeful. He shifted slightly, changing the angle to deepen his thrusts, searching for that sweet spot that would make you unravel completely. His lips found yours again in a kiss that was both a conquest and a surrender, his tongue mirroring the movements below.

Your hands roamed over his back, feeling the play of muscles under his skin, each movement a testament to the depth of his arousal and his desire to please you, to claim you as much as to celebrate you. You wrapped a leg around his waist, pulling him even closer, wanting no space left between you.

As the intensity escalated further, Ben’s control and focus were palpable, his gaze locked on you with an unyielding fervor.

His breath was hot against your ear, his voice low and commanding, yet thick with desire. “Now come for me”, he growled, the roughness of his voice tinged with a raw need that echoed your own. His command, spoken with such authoritative tenderness, sent a thrill through you, intensifying the building pressure.

With his words spiraling in your ears and his body driving deeply into yours, you felt the climax building, unstoppable and fierce. You clung to him, your nails digging into his back as every muscle tensed in anticipation.

And then, with a final, deep thrust that hit just the right spot, you were over the edge. A cry escaped your lips, a sound that was part surrender, part victory, as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Your body clenched around him in intense, rhythmic spasms, your vision blurred with the overwhelming intensity of your release.

Ben’s response was immediate; his grip tightened, and a deep groan rumbled from his chest as he felt the waves of your orgasm, which triggered his own climax. His movements became erratic, driven by the pulsing heat of your body, until he too reached his peak, his release powerful and all-consuming. He pressed his forehead against yours, his breath ragged and hot against your face as he rode out the waves of his own climax, anchored by your presence.

As the last tremors of pleasure subsided, Ben collapsed gently onto you, his weight a comforting pressure but carefully mindful of your growing belly. He shifted slightly, adjusting his position to ensure he was not putting any undue pressure on you. His breathing was heavy, each exhale warm against your skin.

With a soft, contented sigh, he brushed a stray lock of hair from your face, his gaze tender as he looked down at you. “You good?”, he asked, his voice hushed with concern and affection.

You nodded, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Yeah”, you replied, your voice a blend of satisfaction and lingering pleasure.

Ben slowly pulled out of you, his movements gentle and tender as he adjusted his sweatpants, covering himself back up.

Without a word, he began to kiss his way down your body, his lips brushing over your collarbone, down to your breasts still covered in the delicate fabric of your lingerie. His kisses were reverent, each one filled with care and affection as he worshiped your body.

When his lips reached your baby bump, he paused, his eyes softening even further. He placed a hand gently on your stomach, his touch light and full of wonder. His lips pressed against your bump in a tender, lingering kiss, the act filled with so much love that your heart swelled in your chest.

You watched Ben with a sense of awe and tenderness, your heart swelling at the sight of him so completely absorbed in the moment, in you. His large, capable hands, which had often been used for battle and hardship, were now resting so gently on your growing belly, cradling the new life inside with such reverence.

His eyes, usually sharp and intense, were softened with an emotion that made you feel even more connected to him. You could see the vulnerability in his gaze, the shift in his demeanor that came with the realization of the life you two were bringing into the world together. It was a side of him not many had the privilege to see, and it made you feel more loved and cherished than ever before.

As his lips lingered on your bump, you reached down and gently ran your fingers through his hair, a soft smile pulling at your lips. His presence grounded you, and his affection toward you and the baby filled you with a profound sense of peace.

“You’re going to be such a great dad”, you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. You hadn’t planned to say it, but the words came naturally, as though they had been waiting for the right moment.

Ben paused at your words, his lips hovering just above your belly as he stiffened slightly. His hand remained on your bump, but you could see the subtle tension in his body as the weight of your compliment hung in the air. His eyes flickered with something you recognized—vulnerability, doubt, and perhaps even fear.

After a moment, he chuckled softly, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He looked up at you with a teasing grin, though you could tell it was masking something deeper. “Well, let’s just hope the kid doesn’t get my fucking temper”, he muttered, his voice light but carrying an undercurrent of unease.

You knew what he was doing—trying to deflect the gravity of the moment with humor, a defense mechanism you had seen him use countless times before. But there was something in his expression, something in the way his hand tensed slightly on your belly, that told you this was more than just a passing thought. He was worried.

You reached down, cupping his face with your hand, gently guiding his gaze back to yours. “Ben”, you said softly, your tone full of understanding. “You’re not your father”.

He looked away for a brief moment, his jaw tightening as the words seemed to hit something raw inside him. “Yeah, well…”, he began, his voice quieter now. “What if I fucking am? What if I screw this up like he did? What if I become the same…?”.

You didn’t let him finish. “You won’t”, you said firmly, your hand brushing along his cheek. “You’re not him. You’ve already proven that with how much you care, how much you love us. The fact that you’re even worried about it means you’re nothing like him”.

His fingers gently traced the curve of your belly, his touch more thoughtful now. “I just… don’t want to mess this up”, he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I want to be better for the baby… for you”.

Your heart swelled with affection for him. You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “You already are, Ben. You’re everything our baby need. And I know you’ll do whatever it takes to be the best dad because that’s who you are”.

Ben didn’t say anything for a moment, letting your words settle into the quiet space between you. His silence was thoughtful, a quiet acknowledgment that he was grappling with the emotions you'd stirred up. But that was okay. You knew that he needed to process this in his own time, to fight those inner battles and eventually come to realize, in his own way, that he was already more than enough.

You gave him a gentle smile, wanting to lift the mood a little, to bring him out of the shadows of doubt. You leaned forward slightly, brushing a playful kiss across his lips before raising an eyebrow. “So, any chance you’re going to carry me to the shower?”, you asked cheekily, a teasing lilt in your voice.

Ben’s eyes flickered with amusement as he broke out of his thoughts, the heaviness in the air slowly dissipating. A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth, and for a moment, the familiar spark of playfulness returned to his eyes. “Oh, you think I’m going to carry you now?”, he said, his voice low but filled with warmth.

You shrugged, keeping your tone light. “Well, I’m feeling kind of lazy. Plus, after that workout, I think you owe me”.

Ben chuckled, the sound deep and rumbling, finally allowing himself to relax a little. “Alright, alright”, he said, his voice softening with affection as he wrapped an arm around your waist, gently lifting you off the couch with an ease that never failed to amaze you.

As he stood, cradling you in his arms, you wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning in closer. “See? You’re already being an amazing… daddy”, you teased, giving him a playful grin.

Ben rolled his eyes, but there was no mistaking the affection in his gaze. “Don’t push your luck”, he muttered, though his tone was light, his mood visibly lifted by your playful banter.

You rested your head against his shoulder, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath you as he carried you toward the bathroom.

As Ben gently set you down in the bathroom, the soft glow of the lights cast a warm, intimate atmosphere around you both. Without a word, he moved closer, his hands sliding up your sides as he began to undress you with the same tenderness he’d shown earlier. His fingers traced the straps of your lingerie, slowly slipping them off your shoulders, his touch lingering on your skin.

The soft fabric fell away, and as he helped you out of it, his eyes wandered down to your chest, where your breasts were fuller than before—one of the many changes your body had gone through in recent months. A teasing grin spread across his face, and he raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by what he was about to say.

“Well, someone’s definitely filling out”, he remarked with a playful smirk, his voice low and teasing as his hands brushed lightly over your breasts. “Not that I’m complaining”.

You rolled your eyes, biting back a laugh as you playfully swatted at his chest. “Very subtle, Ben”, you teased, though the warmth of his hands and the affection in his voice made you feel anything but self-conscious.

Ben’s grin took on a slightly possessive edge as he knelt before you, carefully sliding your panties down. His eyes, warm yet intensely focused, watched the slow trail his cum made as it followed the fabric. Positioned as he was, you couldn’t see the details that captivated his attention, but you could feel his gaze and the thoughtful silence that filled the space between you.

As he set aside the panties, his hands lingered on your hips for a moment before moving up to gently caress your belly, his touch filled with a mix of awe and reverence.

Then, his lips curled into a playful smirk, the mood shifting slightly as a teasing spark lit up his eyes.

“You know”, he began, his voice low and teasing as his fingers traced small circles on your skin, “I think I’m developing a new kink”.

You raised an eyebrow, a laugh escaping your lips even as you felt a warm flush spread across your cheeks. “Oh really?”, you asked, the amusement clear in your voice, mingling with a curious intrigue.

Ben’s smirk held steady as he watched your reaction, clearly enjoying the playful banter between you two. “Yeah, there’s just something about a woman carrying my child that makes her irresistible”, he continued, his tone still light but bordering on provocatively cheeky. “It’s like, you’re marked as mine, and everyone can see it”.

You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a smile at his slightly over-the-top possessiveness, recognizing his tone as teasing rather than anything serious. “Is that so? I’m ‘marked’ am I?”, you retorted, playing along but with a hint of mock indignation. “What am I, territory?”.

Ben laughed, a deep, rich sound that filled the bathroom. “The sexiest territory”, he whispered, his voice dropping to a husky murmur.

Ben stood back up slowly, his eyes glinting with that familiar mix of playfulness and desire. As he rose, he licked his lips in that teasing way of his, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth between you. His hands still lingered on your waist, and for a moment, his gaze locked on yours, filled with unspoken promises.

Without another word, he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a deep, possessive kiss. It was slow at first, but it quickly deepened, the teasing replaced by raw passion. You could feel the intensity behind the kiss—his hands sliding up your sides to pull you closer, as if trying to erase any space between your bodies.

The warmth of his lips, the feel of his body against yours—it was all-consuming, making you momentarily forget everything else. The hot water from the shower cascaded around you both, creating a cocoon of intimacy, with only the sound of water and your shared breaths filling the space.

Ben’s grip tightened slightly, his kiss turning more urgent, as though he couldn’t get enough. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and his breath was heavy against your lips. He grinned again, that mischievous edge never entirely leaving him.

"You’re not just marked as mine", he whispered, his voice a low rumble. "You're everything I need. My woman, my future, my family".

His words, though possessive in nature, were laced with a sincerity that made your heart flutter. You couldn’t help but smile, running your fingers through his hair as you gazed up at him, your voice soft but teasing. “You’re lucky I love you, or I might have to remind you that I’m still my own person”.

Ben chuckled, kissing you again, softer this time. “Yeah, yeah, I know. But don’t think I’m not going to enjoy every fucking second of this”.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think. 🥰

Part 20

Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy@jackles010378@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles@sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl@emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444@seasonofthenerd@staple-your-mouth@artemys-ackles@selfdestructionandrhum@mystic-mara @kat-nee @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @star-yawnznn @me1501 @CheyNovaK @faephoria @hobby27 @baby19sthings @fitxgrld @winchesterwild78 @uddiifiigj @libby99hb @urgogodancer @urinternetmom @mochminnie @laaadygisbooornex3 @fallout-girl219

#jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x y/n #the boys #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys soldier boy #his second exception

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bettyfrommars · 9 months ago

Text

Dirty Metal Summer

a Dirty Dancing au

Part 4: Never Say Never

18+ONLY, MDNI, eventual smut, mention of blood and violence, a knife wound, mention of wounds, Jason being a typical prick, mention of assault, Steve gets hurt, misogynistic language, some angst, hurt and comfort. Reader goes by the nickname Bird. Eddie is in his late 20's and Reader is 21.

word count: 4.3k

masterlist playlist

Summary: You learn everything you need to know about both Jason and Troy while getting a taste of what Chrissy has had to deal with. Eddie tries to push you away but fails miserably. Robin and Steve are in a dire situation, and you turn to one of the only people you trust. A new opportunity presents itself and you decide to take the leap.

A/N: It's been so fun to put all of these characters into the setting of this beloved film. For those of you who are familiar with Dirty Dancing, I hope you enjoy a few of the scenes in this that were taken directly from it.

The next day, the three of you made your way to another spot on the lake in a rented boat for a picnic. Under the shade of a tree while your dad napped and Kim read a romance novel, you tried to draw Eddie. The curve of his mouth, the way his bangs skirted his eyebrows, the blunt nature of his nose. When you got home, you practiced in the attic for an hour, thought about throwing your cello off the balcony just to watch it splinter to pieces, and then you found yourself staring out the window, hoping for a glimpse of Eddie.

After dinner, you were the last one to leave the table, and the waiter Jason nudged your shoulder.

“Your dad seems really cool,” he gave a toothy, golden boy smile. “He signed a copy of one of his books for my mom.”

“He’s alright, I think I’ll keep him,” you said without returning the smile. Kim stopped in the archway to the foyer to turn and check if you were following, but you waved her off. Getting to know Jason was not high on your priority list, but you remembered Eddie flicking his cigarette at him that first day you arrived, and your curiosity was piqued.

Jason bent at the waist to stack some plates together, giving you a wink over his shoulder. “Listen, I know you’re kinda seeing Troy and all, but if you ever want to hang out we can—”

“I’m not seeing Troy,” you hissed, making sure the last few tables full of people couldn’t hear you. You were about to say he was “just a friend” but he wasn’t even that. “I barely know him.”

“Well, that’s not what he says,” Jason cocked his head, placing the used silverware on the tray as he moved around the table. “But anyway, if you ever want to have some fun, get away from this place or whatever, I could show you some stuff,” he lifted his eyebrows a few times suggestively. “Wait, you’re over 18, right?”

You followed him, ignoring his offer. “What did Troy tell you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he chuckled, as if it were funny. “Hey, I saw you talking to Chrissy the other day and, friendly advice? I’d keep your distance from that whole group if I were you.”

You held up the flower vase so he could pull the tablecloth off. “How do you know Chrissy?”

Jason cleared his throat, glancing at the people eating across the way. “I guess you could say Chrissy and I had some fun last summer.”

“She was your girlfriend?”

“She wishes,” he scoffed. “God created girls like Chrissy for one reason and one reason only.”

“Oh? And what reason is that?” You stopped helping him and stepped back.

“C’mon Bird, I know you’re from the suburbs, but you’re not that naive,” he moved the bin of dirty dishes to an empty chair.

He stepped closer and leaned in, whispering. “Girls like Chrissy, with serious daddy issues, they’re a great fuck, but no one wants to marry them. Same reason your boyfriend Troy had a turn with her.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” You said through gritted teeth, an internal rage building as you watched his mouth, picking up a piece of silverware as you went.

“She hides it well at work, but Chrissy’s one of those satanic metalhead freaks you’d never want to be seen in public with. Not if you had any self respect anyway.”

He continued, and you followed him over to the alcove by the kitchen, out of view from the other customers. “Some people matter and some people don’t, that’s all I’m saying. If she thought Troy would ever get serious with a girl like her, that’s her fault, not his.”

“Is that why I saw them arguing the other day? She wanted to be with him but he ended it?”

You were pushing the boundaries of gossip, but could tell Jason enjoyed the attention.

“I doubt it, those two were never serious,” he moved back for another waiter to pass by. “Chrissy keeps threatening to tell Joyce that Troy forced himself on her the last time they were together, but we all know that’s a lie. She was practically begging for it. Plus, it’s her word against his, and everyone knows she’s a whore.”

“I see.”

Jason leaned in so close his lips were almost grazing your ear. “If you want to come by later, my cabin number is—”

The fork you had in your hand jabbed between his legs, points finding their soft target with ease. Jason let out a high-pitched curse that made a few heads turn, but he was helpless not to back up as you moved forward, forcing him further down the hallway, out of sight.

“Whattt the fuck, shit, fuck you, bitch, what the shit—”

When you pushed the utensil in further, he whimpered a gasping plea to stop, but your aim made him too vulnerable to move.

You leaned in so that your body was close to his in the darkness of the corner, close enough to smell the cheap cologne he wore. “Do you have any idea how powerful the lawyers are that work for my dad? Try anything with me or Chrissy, and you’ll be sorry you ever met me.”

You stepped back and he coughed, bending over to cover his crotch with both hands, trying to catch his breath.

“You’re a fucking cunt,” he spat.

You charged forward again, forcing him to stumble back, putting his hands up as a form of surrender.

You winked, and threw the fork at him on your way out, letting it clatter to the ground.

—-------

The adrenaline was still pumping when you were halfway back to your cabin on foot and spotted Eddie. He was cutting across the grass from the sidewalk, heading away from you.

“Eddie!”

But he didn’t falter, as if he couldn’t hear you, but that was impossible. Unless he had headphones on? Nope, you didn’t see any.

He picked up his pace.

Instinct told you maybe he didn’t want to be bothered, or he was in a hurry somewhere, but your buzzing brain overrode all of the logic.

“Hey, do you have a second?” You finally caught up to him on the lawn under the trees where the outside movie was usually playing.

He stopped abruptly and dropped his shoulders, taking a breath before he turned, albeit reluctantly, to look at you. His expression was weary, if not wholly nonplussed.

“What’s up?” His tone was cold as he wet his lips and braced his hands at his hips. His toolbelt and his staff shirt were still on, as if he were on the clock so late in the evening. “I’ve got a…thing to get to.�� But if you need something, you just gotta ask up at the front desk. Or dial 0 on the phone in your—-””

“A thing at the Hideout?”

The muscles in his jaw tightened at that. You looked fucking adorable standing there with your hands balled into fists as if you were bout to punch him.

He breathed out, looking everywhere but your face. “Don’t you have some other vacation thing you should be doing right now? Like charades in the west lobby or salsa dancing on the veranda?”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “I suppose anything would be better than this lame conversation.”

The retort made his brows jut up. “Well, keep on walking, your highness,” he extended his arms in a flowing gesture. “Don’t let a lowlife like me stop you.”

“Fine.”

“Good.”

So, he turned and continued on his way, wood hammer handle slapping his thigh from its side holster. But it only took a few steps for him to halt, cursing through gritted teeth when he realized he couldn’t walk away from you, it just wasn’t that easy.

When he spun around, you were standing in the same spot but with your back to him. “Was there something you wanted to ask me?”

You pivoted on your heel, prepared to be cunty right back, but you couldn’t help but soften once your eyes met. You could’ve made something up in that moment, or you could’ve feigned forgetfulness, but instead, you told him the truth.

“I just wanted to see you.” You swallowed hard and so did he.

Eddie stiffened; a grin teasing at the corner of his mouth. He didn’t smile though, he couldn’t. Such a gesture would betray everything he did not want to feel at that moment. A pregnant silence lingered thick in the space between you while he worked his jaw, once again trying to avoid looking directly at your face. He wasn’t ready to have those types of feelings, especially for someone he could never have.

“There is something I have to do first, but I’ll be at the Hideout later if you want…I mean, if you want to walk down there and have a beer…that’s where I’ll be.”

“I’d like that,” was all you should’ve said, but then you added. “I like beer.”

—-----

Your heart was in your throat as you made your way back from the cabin in a fresh change of clothes. You practiced the things you would say when you saw Eddie again, in case your brain to mouth connection betrayed you again.

The path you were on led down beyond the tennis courts and the golf course, and then along a strip of parking near the employee cabins. The Hideout was not too far off, you noticed, but then there were bright headlights beaming at you, and you kept your head down, pumping your arms to the beat of your own thoughts.

But then you heard a scream.

It was someone in distress, and it sounded like…Robin?

Stuttering to a halt, you squinted looking into the headlights that were a good many yards away, not yet able to make out a person or even what type of car was there.

“Hello?” You stepped from the sidewalk, inching closer, but your words were only met with the sound of a door slamming. “Are you okay? Who is there?”

Robin came toward you then; there was what looked like blood smeared on the front of her shirt.

“Bird!” She seemed so relieved to see you, hurrying forward with tear-soaked cheeks. She was speaking in a tense whisper, checking around to see if there were others who might hear her. “Have you seen Eddie?”

You forgot how to speak as you took in the situation, mouth agape. “Are you…hurt? What’s going on?”

“I’m–I’m fine, it’s Steve,” a sob caught in her throat. “I need to find Eddie. Can you help me?”

“Yeah of course,” you gushed, following her to the van to maybe see what the damage was.

She opened the passenger door to the van and Steve would’ve fallen out if she hadn’t caught him. He was slumped there like dead weight, his face a sheet of white.

You hurried to help hold him up and your hand at his hip slipped along something warm and viscous over his jeans in the dark. His head lolled forward and he mumbled something incoherent, but it was good to know he was conscious.

From what you could see, one side of his face was swollen, his lip split open and bleeding. The hand closest to you looked raw and angry like he’s been punching a brick wall, and there were cuts on his arm from where he’d tried to block the strikes.

“One of them had a switchblade,” Robin gushed. “Motherfuckers, they stabbed him and I—-there were too many of them. We didn’t know. My ex, she had all of her friends there. She lied and told them Steve hurt her. He’d never even met her before and then—-”

“Robin, we need to get him to a hospital,” you propped Steve back up in the seat, ready to get behind the wheel if necessary. “He looks like he’s lost a lot of blood.”

“No hospitals!” They both said in unison, but Steve’s voice was more of a groan. “I can take care of him. Help me get him back to my cabin?”

“But, Robin—” you were genuinely concerned for his welfare, but also could not force them to go.

“This isn’t the first time Steve’s been hurt, okay? They find out he’s been involved in any type of fight and he’ll be on his ass. Help me, please.”

With Steve’s arms hooked around each of your shoulders, you went step by step. Steve barked in pain a few times as your free hand hugged the clothing to his wound. You could tell his leg was hurt too, as he was having a hard time walking.

Halfway to Robin's cabin, which was maybe a 100 yards up the sidewalk but felt like 10 miles, Jamie, Eddie’s new assistant came rushing down off of his nearby porch.

“What the fuck happened?” He moved to help you, to shift Steve’s weight onto him.

“Go get Eddie please? Tell him to hurry!”

Jamie looked from you to her, calculating where he thought Eddie would be, and then took off at a jog.

By the time you made it to the cabin, a handful of other employees were rushing in to help as well, following Robin’s instructions as she told them to put a clean sheet on her bed and boil some water. Once he was safe on the bed, more people rushed in, and you sunk back in the crowd.

They said no hospitals, but you knew someone who could help.

—------

You couldn’t remember running back to your cabin, it all happened so fast, your brain could barely keep up with your feet. Not to mention that you hated running. You paused at the door, hoping your dad wasn’t awake. You couldn’t let him see the blood on your clothes, he’d overreact in the worst way, and then the cops would be involved. Not to mention the fact that you’d lied earlier and said you were going to hang out with Troy.

Just in case, you took off your stained sweater and tucked it under your arm, revealing a clean tank top underneath. Thankfully, the house was dark and quiet, and you tip-toed in a rush to your aunt’s room.

“Kim?”

She was on her side with a pillow over her head.

You rushed up and sat on the bed, jostling her a bit until she pulled the pillow away and blinked at you.

“What the—what’s going on?” She sat up. “Is your dad okay?”

“No, he’s fine,” you whispered, tugging at her arm. “But I need you to come with me.”

“You need me to come with you now?” she balked, swiping hair out of her face, scrambling for her eyeglasses to look at the numbers on the bedside clock. “Bird, it’s almost midnight.”

She kicked her legs off the bed with a groan, watching you dig through her closet. You pulled out her leather, Swiss Army medical bag with all of her emergency travel supplies in it and slung it over your shoulder.

“I need your help,” you paused to make sure you were being quiet enough. “Someone’s hurt. I can’t explain right now, there’s no time. Please just trust me.”

She could see the fear and the emotion in your eyes, and didn’t ask any more questions as she went over to pull some clothes out of her drawers, removing her nightgown to get dressed as fast as she could.

—------

You filled her in on what you knew as you both hurried along at a fast pace. “Bird, a stab wound is serious. We need to call the—”

“We can’t!” You barked it much more harshly than you’d intended. “Please,” you softened. “It would take another hour for an ambulance to get out here anyway. Plus, I don’t think he has insurance.”

There was a crowd of people mingling on the porch around Robin’s cabin, and Kim pushed through them. The doorway itself was blocked by bodies, and once inside, the bed with Steve on it was at the center of the room. The employee cabins were all small and quaint, with a kitchenette against the far wall, and a beaded curtain that led to a bathroom with a standing shower. Kim raised her voice to be heard over the ones still blocking her way.

“Everyone stand back, please? I'm a nurse.”

Eddie was almost as pale as Steve when you saw him at his friend’s side. He was shirtless under his leather jacket, atop his black, belted jeans, like he’d left his cabin in a hurry. They’d removed Steve’s shirt, revealing an expanse of chest hair, cleaned him, and put a fresh towel over the wound. The blood wasn’t gushing, but he was gritting his teeth in pain, and the puffiness on his face made him almost unrecognizable from one side.

Kim looked from Robin to Eddie, rolling her sleeves up. “I need a sink to wash my hands in. Tell everyone else to leave, please?”

While Eddie forced all of the gawkers out, he made lingering eye contact with you, and you nodded to let him know everything would be alright.

Kim scooted a metal camp chair up by the bed and opened her medical bag, snapping her latex gloves on. “Hi there Steven, do you remember me? I’m going to take a look at you, okay?”

He swallowed. “How could I forget you?” His voice was scratchy, and when he tried to smile, he blanched in pain again. “You should see the other guy.”

“I know that must hurt,” Kim pulled a vial of liquid from one of the many pockets in her bag. “I’m going to give you something for the pain.”

She was doing her best to soothe him, keeping him apprised of every move she made, keeping him comfortable.

Eddie shut the door, locking everyone else out, including Chrissy, and came to stand behind you, cupping his hands on your arms, his warm body pressing into your back. The sensation made you dizzy. Maybe he needed the comfort, or he thought you did, but either way—you were grateful.

Kim looked up. “Robin? Is that your name?”

Robin nodded, inching closer, her eyes puffy from crying.

“You did a really good job of cleaning his wound. Do you think you could stay and assist? He’s going to need stitches.”

Robin was quick to nod emphatically. “You think he’s going to be okay?” A sob hitched in her throat. “He was protecting me. If I’d never gone there…if I…then he wouldn’t…” You went over to put your arm around her as fresh tears fell and dripped down her chin.

Kim caught Steve staring at her, dragging long blinks as the morphine took effect, his dry lips parted and pink with blood from his broken nose. She didn’t like answering those types of questions when she knew so little about the internal damage, but she found herself brushing hair off his forehead in a way that was not normally in her bedside manner.

“I have a good feeling he’ll live to make plenty more mistakes,” but then she quickly dropped her hand and went back to work.

“What can I do?” Eddie asked, stepping out from behind you, to the foot of the bed.

Kim frowned as she inspected the two broken fingers on one of Steve’s hands. “I’d like some coffee. Black, two sugars,” she said without looking up. “But the rest of you might as well go get some sleep. This is going to take a while.”

—-------

Kim begged you to go home so as to not worry your father when he woke up to an empty house, being that the sun would probably be up before she was done. You knew she was right, but you watched Eddie and Jamie go up the hill to the main house for a coffee run with longing reluctance. He ended up grabbing an entire coffee maker from the kitchen and a pitcher of water to make sure Kim had everything she needed for the night.

The next day, after pretending like nothing happened over brunch, and your dad went back to writing, you returned to Robin’s cabin with Kim to check on Steve.

Before rounding the corner to the porch, you heard Eddie’s voice before you saw him.

“...Chris, there is no way we’ll be able to find a bass player this late in the game,” he huffed.

And then Chrissy spoke up. “We can’t just bail on this gig, Ed. This could be huge for us. There has to be some—”

“Who?” His tone was annoyed. Not so much at her, but at the situation. “Emily will be out of town and Sean has a gig with his own band. We are out of options.”

“We have two weeks to find someone,” she chimed, full of hope.

“Yeah. Barely two weeks.” He leaned back against the railing of the porch so he could see him from where you and Kim stood frozen. “That’s not enough time.”

But then Kim stepped forward. “Hello everyone. It’s me again. Nurse Ratched.”

They both turned to greet her with enthusiasm, and Eddie extended his hand to help her up the stairs, even though she didn’t need it.

A smile quivered on his mouth when he locked eyes with you.

Kim knocked first, and then you heard her ask how her patient was doing once Robin let her in.

Chrissy and Eddie got quiet, possibly wondering how much you had heard. He wore a black, ribbed tank top under his unbuttoned work shirt, and Chrissy was in her waitress uniform as if she’d stopped by on her way to the main house.

“Everything good?” You broke the silence, feeling awkward.

They both spoke at once, but then Chrissy gestured for Eddie to continue. “Everything is good, it’s great. Your aunt, what she did for Steve last night, it was incredible,” he turned to snatch his smokes off of the table as he said it. “I didn’t know there were still people in the world willing to help strangers like that.”

“She’s pretty terrific,” you swallowed, noting the looks that the two kept exchanging. “What about the two of you? I guess this means you are out a bass player for a while?”

Besides the obvious trauma to his face and stomach, fingers on Steve's hand were broken from how hard he’d fought back. Even though Kim had been able to set them in splints, and they would eventually heal, it’d be a while before he could pick up a guitar again. She couldn’t speculate on the nerve damage, but there was a chance the dexterity would never be the same.

Chrissy sat on the edge of the railing with her hands folded in her lap. “Our band was invited to play at a show called Pedal to the Metal. It’s a once in a lifetime chance to get our name out there,” she glanced up at Eddie but he was staring at the ground, working his jaw.

“There’s always next year,” he deadpanned in a way that made you think he didn’t believe it.

“We won’t get invited again and you know it, Ed,” she tucked some hair behind her ear and avoided eye contact with you. “The Dead Alive and Heaven’s Harlots will be there. I’ve been dying to meet them.”

“Who are The Dead A—-” you were about to ask but then Eddie interrupted.

“Fuck those bands and fuck that stupid festival,” he grumbled. “We don’t need them. When Steve recovers, we’ll figure out how to pick up the pieces.”

The wheels in your brain were spinning so fast, you wouldn’t be surprised if smoke came out of your ears.

You cleared your throat. “Do you think maybe you could teach someone to play bass?”

Eddie barked a laugh out of his nose. “In two weeks? Hilarious.”

“I mean,” you scrambled for the right words, hoping they wouldn’t laugh you off the porch. “W-what if they already know strings really well? Like maybe, the cello? Wouldn’t it be easier for them to learn?”

Chrissy shrugged, not sure where you were going with the story, but Eddie cocked his head at you, eyes narrowing.

“It’s possible,” Chrissy frowned down at her lap and then swept her gaze up to you. “Do you have someone in mind?”

Before you could answer, Eddie waved his hand in the air and leaned his shoulder against the cabin. “Nope. No way,” he popped the “p” and shook his head, hair falling in his face. “It wouldn’t work, we don’t have enough time.”

Chrissy got to her feet. “C’mon Ed, someone like that could learn 5 songs in 2 weeks if they wanted to! But do we even know anyone like that?”

You swallowed hard, waited for both of them to stare at you, and then offered a nervous smile.

-----

Thank you to everyone reading and enjoying this little world. You know I always love hearing what you think ❤️🚬

------

taglist: @micheledawn1975@kurdtbean@katethetank@elvendria@spookysqaush86@somethingvicked@stylesxmunson@laurenlokirby@sapphire4082 @kellsck @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @justdamnpeachy @dashingdeb16 @corrodedcoffincumslut @bexreadstoomuch @ohmeg@marrowfrog00 @ahoyyharrington

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson series #Dirty Metal Summer #Eddie Munson fic #Steve Harrington #Robin Buckley #Dirty Dancing au #Steve Harrington fic #Eddie Munson smut #Stranger Things Fanfiction

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yummyuta · 3 months ago

Text

winner takes it all | p.w ft s.e

♡ genre: smut - mdni! slight angst | word count: 2,583

♡ pairing: wonbin x f. reader (ft bf! eunseok)

♡ warnings: cheating (reader is involved in a bet) alcohol consumption, public sex, unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving), slight dumbification

♡ summary: in a tense and unexpected turn of events reader finds herself spending the evening with her boyfriends racing rival.

♡ authors note: im back again with another wonseok fic only this time wonbin is the mc! i've had the idea of rival racers since april, and im so happy i got around to writing it. i hope you enjoyed this one! btw i do not condone cheating whatsoever, this is purely fictional.

♡ song recommendations:

the stands were packed, and the roar of the engines was deafening as the cars lined up for the start. you stood amongst the crowd, of fangirls screeching out your boyfriends name. as the countdown began and checkered flags were raised, your heartbeat accelerated. as supportive as you were of your man, and his career it always filled you with a sense of dread that someday he would get hurt. as the sound of the gunshot went off, signaling the race to begin you spotted eunseok’s car, a brilliant red streak on the track, and your eyes followed him eagerly. but as the race unfolded, another driver caught your attention. a sleek navy blue car with silver stars decorated across the hood and sides seemed to dance through the track with an almost mesmerizing grace. this mystery driver was audacious and precise, and you couldn’t help but admire his skill.

the race was fierce, as eunseok and his rival were locked in a breathtaking duel, their cars battling for every inch of the track. the crowd was on their feet, and you found herself torn between cheering for eunseok and marveling at the other mans performance. the final lap was a heart-stopping spectacle, and in a dramatic climax, both cars crossed the finish line at the same moment.

as the dust settled, you began running down towards the track, signaling to your boyfriends team to let you in. you noticed the tension between eunseok and his opponent. the two racers exchanged words that seemed more charged than celebratory. suddenly, the mystery man approached you, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of intensity and curiosity.

"you’re y/n, right?” he asked, his voice calm despite the adrenaline still pumping through him. "yes,” you replied, a bit taken aback. “how do you know me?” suddenly a hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you into a side hug. "dont you dare speak to her wonbin" eunseok barked at the man. eunseok turned to you, a look of concern in his eyes, "lets go home okay, forget this race" he quickly spat out. you sat there in confusion, before wonbin broke your focus. "now not so fast, i want my rematch. this time, the stakes are higher. the winner gets the privilege of spending time with you", he said so casually.

your eyes widened in shock. “what? i’m not a prize to be won.” eunseok looked conflicted, on the one hand he wanted to run away with you, and not look back while on the other he felt his pride and career would be at risk if he didnt take on the deal. the clock was ticking, it was time to make a decision, besides you were his good luck charm, as long as he had you he was sure he could win and everything would go back to the way it was. you believed in him, he knew that, so he took the leap, hoping you would understand.

"baby, this is about more than just the race", he confided in you. despite your discomfort, you saw the determination in his eyes and agreed to the terms of the rematch, hoping it would resolve the tension between them. the rematch was set for the following week, and the anticipation built up. when race day arrived, the atmosphere was charged, and the race was even more intense than before, with both racers pushing their limits. in a stunning final lap, wonbin edged out eunseok by a fraction of a second. the crowd erupted in cheers as wonbin crossed the finish line first. you felt a mix of emotions - sadness for eunseok, and a growing unease about what the night with wonbin would bring.

the bleachers started the clear, as people began making their way to the after party. you sat there in disbelief until you were faced with wonbin and eunseok directly in front of you. you were about to run towards your boyfriend until wonbin held out a hand to you. "i'm going to have my fun with you tonight", he smirked. you rolled your eyes, accepting your fate, then wonbin turned to his rival, saying, "dont worry ill try to have her back in one piece." eunseok nearly lunged at his enemy, you quickly reacted, standing in between them and placing a calming hand on eunseoks' chest. "i dont like this anymore than you do," you reassured him, placing a peck on his lips, before wonbin began dragging you away.

wonbin lead you into the bustling party, his hand held on tightly to your waist as he guided you through the crowd. all eyes were on you, everyone knew you were eunseoks girlfriend so it was no suprise to you that whispers and rumors immediately began to circulate. as the night went on, wonbin introduced you to his friends and fellow racers, shotaro, and anton. wonbins groupies also were intent on following you both around like lost puppies the whole time, waiting for a moment where you left his side, giving them the opportunity to pounce.

you were hoping for that as well, but wonbin only got more physical with you. he placed his hands wherever he could, your thighs, ass, waist, hips, shoulders barely leaving you space to breathe. his hands were rough, calloused, and cold, nothing compared to your boyfriends. a few times you would spot eunseok from across the room, it was like wonbin was purposely flaunting you in front of him. the minute eunseok met your gaze, he could only shake his head and down another shot, hoping he could drown his loss of you and the race in alcohol.

while wonbin was preoccupied for a few moments talking business with his manager, you managed to sneak off to the dance floor, swaying your body to the sweet sound and sipping on your cocktail. you were enjoying your peace until you felt the presence of someone behind you. wonbin reached around you, lightly grinding into your back, whispering compliments into your ear. "you know you are by far the hottest girl i have ever seen, i dont think eunseok realizes how lucky he is." your cheeks began to flush as heat began circulating around the two of you. you blamed it on the fact that you were borderline drunk at this point and kept moving to your own rhythm, hoping his words wouldn't phase you anymore.

you ignoring him only added more fuel to wonbins fire. he lived for the chase, he was a go-getter after all on and off the track. he decided to take things to the next level, sliding one hand up your shirt, while the other found its way lightly around your neck, testing the waters to see how you would react. to both of your surprises, you leaned further into him, letting out the cutest sighs he's ever heard. you were getting worked up, you knew it was wrong to be doing this you promised eunseok you wouldn't enjoy yourself, but also he is the one who put you in this position in the first place. you turned your head around in his grasp, looking into his eyes, the purple and blue lights reflecting off his beautiful features. you didn't stop yourself when he locked his lips with yours in an eager kiss. you also didn't stop him when he began to escort you off the dance floor and outside to the parking lot. the cool air, along with the reality of what just happened, smacked you in the face as soon as you stepped out. you instinctively moved toward eunseoks' car, and wonbin followed.

you leaned against the hood of his car, taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to compose yourself. this was wrong, and the guilt began to crash into you. you were lost in your thoughts until wonbin stepped in front of you, positioning himself in between your legs. "whats wrong baby, miss your boyfriend" he snarked. you stared at him with tears in your eyes, "why did you do this? couldn't you have found some other way to settle the score without ruining my relationship!" you screamed out in frustation as you balled up your fists, wanting to hit him but trying to contain your anger. he only continued to stare at you, getting more excited.

you didn't know this, but he's had his eye on you since the first day you came out to the track to support eunseok. when he looked for you in the stands, he imagined you cheering him on, he thought of you wearing his jacket, he thought of you running down, jumping into his arms and kissing him in celebration of his victories. he imagined laying you down in the backseat of his car, undressing you, as you begged him to keep going. he wanted you more than any championship title or the fame that came with it. "are you even listening to me?" you snapped annoyingly in his face.

now it was his turn to catch an attitude with you, he didnt have much time left before you went crawling back to eunseok, so he knew he needed to do something to bend you to his will before he missed his chance. he rolled his eyes, before grabbing your chin between his fingers, "baby we can do this the easy way, or the hard way, and i much prefer a challenge" he said with a sick smile before leaning in, not quite placing his lips on yours yet. he was testing you, "the choice is still yours though, just remember im not the bad guy here, eunseok is the one who didn't fight hard enough to keep you." your eyes swirled in his, he saw right through you, all your conflicting emotions, "you can't tell him okay, please, you already got what you wanted" was the last thing you thought before releasing all the tension, completing the space that was left between you. he pulled away ever so slightly, "you will be my dirty little secret" he growled before picking you up, placing you on the hood.

your legs wrapped around him as he began to unbutton your shorts. you made quick work pulling his racing jacket off his shoulders, taking if off and placing it next to you. he went for your shirt next, ripping it up and over your head, stretching his fingers to your back to unclasp your bra, exposing your tits. you leaned back, propping yourself up on your elbows, as he slid your shorts and underwear down your legs, and watched as he rid himself of his pants.

his buldge was prominent, he leaned in and you sighed, closing your eyes wanting to feel him again. you felt cold, leathery fabric being placed over your shoulders, opening your eyes as you saw he put his racing jacket on you. "that's much better," he purred in your ear. he began placing open-mouthed, tongue kisses on your breasts, collerbones, down your navel, to your inner thighs, licking and biting all the way to your glistening core. "you dont know how many times i imagined this," he muttered before locking his lips around your folds, sticking his tongue in your entrance.

his obscene slurping sounds mixed with your moans, the beat of the music from inside the party could barely be heard over the sounds you were making. he flicked his tongue in and out of you expertly, he had to be the best at everything in his life. he took the hand that was holding your hips apart, bringing it closer to you so he could play with your nub. like pressing on the gas pedal, he was firing you up with each second that went on. you threw your head back, hair sticking to your forehead, and jacket barely hanging onto your body as you arched your back, moving your hips closer to his mouth practically suffocating him. wonbin was bringing you closer to the finish line, and before you knew it, your orgasm smashed into you.

juices splattering all over his chin, as he pulled away, licking his lips, eyes blown out in lust and the moonlight sparkling on his face. "you taste even sweeter than i ever could have thought." your face was red, you were exposed and embarrassed, but you wanted more, "please, wonbin..." you had to be out of your mind, but you wanted to make the most of your mistake before it was over. "please what baby, use your words", he hissed back, "do you want my cock, you want to get fucked on top of your boyfriends car is that it?"

in the midst of everything, you completely forgot where you were. guilt started setting its way into your stomach once more. you wanted to curl up into a ball hiding yourself from the man in front of you. as ashamed as you were, you didn't want to think of it anymore, and your body was screaming at you, so you listened. "yes please fuck me until i forget" you begged him, "oh princess, trust me this will be a ride of a lifetime", he said before unveiling his cock, pressing it into you, his hips snapping into you. he was slightly longer and thicker than eunseok. easily reaching places, it took your boyfriend a few moments to get to. you gasped, exhaling every bit of bitter air that entered your lungs. he was knocking the wind out of you with every thrust. the car shaking, the hood bending with the weight of you and the force and speed of his hips pistoling in and out of your core.

"if only eunseok could see this, his precious girlfriend getting railed by his arch nemisis," wonbin teased. you hated to admit this to yourself, but the thought of it kinda turned you on. maybe if eunseok saw you like this, he would realize you dont deserve to be treated like a bargaining chip. your eyes rolled into the back of your head, biting down on your lip until you nearly bled, feeling your second orgasm of the night rapidly approaching. eunseok had never made you cum this fast, he was a sweet lover, but it wasnt always enough for you. maybe what you needed this whole time was someone who knew how to push your buttons. strings of curses flew from your mouth, as your body was being thrown around the hood of the car. wonbins bicepts flexing as he held your legs strongly around his waist.

"almost there baby, cum for me, let everyone hear whose the champion, who is fucking you this good," wonbin exclaimed. you went to cover your face, becoming extremely overwhelmed by his words. wonbin wasn't having that though, he needed to see every expression, every scrunch of your nose, and curve of your lips as you were overcome with pleasure. he grabbed your wrists pinning them above your head, "come on baby, say it, let eunseok know who the real winner is". your throat raw, and mouth dry, as you clenched around the man whose name came out of your mouth in broken screams and moans. wonbin pulled out of you, "thats it baby" he groaned as he painted your tits and stomach with his release.

your chest heaved, your body tingly, and brain nearly checked out. barely catching your breath, you were startled by the sound of your phone ringing from your pocket in your shorts. wonbin got off you, and as he pulled his pants back on, grabbing your device, bringing it to his ear "y/n phone, may i ask who is calling?" wonbin answered. you sat up, inching off the hood collecting yourself when you heard "oh its you, yeah, she's right here. we are by your car, she's exhausted, " wonbin exasperated into the speaker. realizing he was talking to eunseok, you quickly made yourself look as presentable as possible, hoping there were no signs of the sinful act that had just taken place. suddenly, the door slammed open, your boyfriend pacing towards you.

"times up, we are going home right now," he yelled. you turned to face wonbin for the final time that night, as he placed his index finger over his lips in a shushing motion, winking at you. when eunseok made his way over to your side, opening the passenger door for you, he took notice of your change in appearance. "why are you wearing wonbins jacket?" he said in disgust. you gulped, eyes beelining towards the ground, studdering trying to find an explanation. "didnt want her to catch a cold. besides it looks better on her anyway, you can give it back to me at the next race...when i beat you again." he confidently said as he walked over, getting in the driver seat of his own car, reving the engine and driving off into the starry night. as your boyfriend drove home, you clenched onto his rivals jacket, knees buckling as you recalled the events that had transpired, both of you sitting in silence, as the recollection of the time spent with wonbin slipped into the unknown.

#yummyuta #riize smut #riize hard hours #wonbin smut

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vivalas-vega · 2 years ago

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Flygirl / Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Reader

this idea came to me suddenly and I could not sleep until I wrote it. I really intended for this to be short and sweet but it took on a life of it’s own lol hope you enjoy!

flygirl / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader

add yourself to my taglist

word count: 8k

warnings: fluffy jake, swearing, probably a lot of fighter jet/flying inaccuracies, oral (f recieving), unprotected p-in-v (pls be safe)

summary: Whiskey is the Dagger Squad’s favorite bartender, and Hangman’s best friend... when he decides to take her flying long repressed feelings bubble to the surface.

Classic rock filtered through the jukebox nestled away in the corner, mixing harmoniously with the chatter of patrons scattered throughout the Hard Deck, all looking to unwind after a long day on the nearby Naval base. You stood behind the bar, fixing drinks and bobbing your head along to whatever tune was playing, pretending to be riveted by the story the old-timer was telling you. Your eyes skimmed the room, landing on your favorite group of pilots gathered around their usual spot at the pool table and you didn’t even notice the smile that tugged at the corners of your lips. They’d all filtered in a few months ago, having witnessed some old friends reuniting, new friends forming bonds, and a particular pair who seemed to be at odds but you knew better. You saw right through the two of them and knew once the pissing contest had run its course they’d be just as close as the rest of them.

You were an unofficial member of the Dagger Squad, having been their favorite bartender and earning a call sign of your own based upon your drink of choice, and they were the only group for whom you’d willingly go to your place of work on a night off. Your sights set on the tall blonde, hanging off to the side watching Rooster and Phoenix battle it out, and it wasn’t long before he noticed and was in motion, your senses overwhelmed by that southern drawl and the scent of his cologne. “Just the bartender I was hopin’ to see.”

“Hangman,” you greeted, trying not to smile as you prepared a gin and tonic for the mousy brunette now ogling the pilot who was only focused on your hands as you quickly mixed the drink. You set it before the girl who slowly went back to her friends, chuckling as she nearly tripped over her own feet in an attempt to keep her eyes on him for as long as possible, “she’s cute, you should go after her.”

“Who?” He mused, eyes boring into your own as he flashed his famous smirk and you just shook your head, pouring his drink into a tumbler and handing it to him before he even had a chance to order. “Not the whiskey I was hoping for,” he angled, referencing the callsign he’d bestowed upon you.

“You simply couldn’t handle it, Hangman,” you teased, wiping the bar down and raising an eyebrow at him. “You said you wanted to see me?”

“Mmhm, Maverick has granted me a favor,” he stated, watching as you slipped your apron off and tossed it under the bar, pouring your own drink before hopping over and following Hangman to your group of friends.

“And what might that favor be?” You knew better than to fall into any of his traps, but the setup of this one had your curiosity piqued.

“Well, we were all talking and we thought it was a damn shame our newest member has her own callsign, but has never been up in a fighter jet.” Your brows furrowed as you processed the implication of what he’d said, eyes shooting to Phoenix, then Rooster, looking for any hint of him yanking your chain.

“You’ve heard all our stories but have never experienced it, it was actually my idea,” Phoenix supplied and you gave her an exasperated look. Sure, they made what they did sound cool as hell and you loved how passionate they were about their line of work but you preferred your feet firmly planted on the earth below you, not whizzing around the skies.

“And, seeing as I saved Mav and Rooster’s life, I had a favor to cash in. Secured a two-seater and a spot on the runway at nine am tomorrow morning… so maybe make that your only drink tonight.” Hangman eyed the amber liquid in your glass.

“I’m not getting in a jet with you, Bagman,” you replied simply, earning a snort from Rooster.

He couldn’t hide his shock, “you don’t want to fly with the best pilot in the Navy?”

“Oh, so Maverick is taking me up? You should really work on your delivery, you had me confused for a moment.” Rooster let out a full laugh now, enjoying as you so easily worked him up.

“No, you’ll be flying with me. I thought you would be excited,” his tone was playful but you sighed as you heard the undertone of hurt.

“Flying is just not my thing,” you tried to save yourself but the looks of your friends made you realize you weren’t getting out of this. You should have been excited, even touched that they so badly wanted to share this part of their lives with you, to clue you in on the most important thing to them but in reality all you felt was a pit of anxiety. Especially because it was Jake Seresin you’d be flying with. You trusted him implicitly, on the ground, but in the sky? Well, you’d heard the stories of the cocky pilot, keen on taking risks and pulling out dangerous maneuvers even when the situation didn’t necessarily call for it. It was enough to make you shudder from your safe spot behind the bar, and you were perfectly fine with not completely being in the loop whenever they talked about their time in the air.

“Whiskey, you’re going to love it, I promise.” Phoenix reassured, looping her arm through yours, the other wrapping around your waist. You leaned against her and sighed, mind running with all the what if’s. What if this was the one time there was a malfunction with his engine, what if this was the one time he didn’t stick the landing, what if this was the one time he can’t fly his way out of a bird strike, what if- “I can literally hear the grinding of gears in your brain, Mav wouldn’t have said yes if he knew you wouldn’t be safe.” Phoenix broke you out of your spiral with a new tactic to calm your nerves, placing a kiss to your cheek and going back to her pool game.

“Wait no, come back I think she’s still anxious,” Hangman called after her, having enjoyed the moment of affection between you two but all he got was two middle fingers. You checked the time on your watch, realizing the night was winding down and you glanced at Penny who waved you off, conveying that you were fine to leave for the evening. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.” Hangman said to you softly, encouraging you to finish your drink and before you knew it he was taking your glass to the bar and grabbing your bag from Penny.

“If she comes off that jet with even a hair out of place, Hangman…” You could hear her warn and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Don’t worry Pen, you won’t even have the chance to kill me… there’s more than enough people on base that will do it for you.” He wasn’t wrong, you’d become a bit of a fixture to all of the Naval officers in the area, much like Penny had. You were there almost every night, fixing them drinks and offering a listening ear, whether they needed to decompress after a stressful day or boast over a victory and you wouldn’t have changed it for anything. You loved being at the Hard Deck, Penny paid you far more than she should and she encouraged you to follow your passions, indulging any one of your whims with nothing but love and support.

“You’ll be fine, you know. He cares about you more than anything, he’s not going to be reckless with you.” Rooster all but whispered into your ear as you hugged goodbye and it actually eased some of the tension that had your body rigid. He felt the change and smiled as he pulled away, a little smug to know he was the one that calmed the racing thoughts. “And if you change your mind, I’m sure I could sweet talk Mav into letting me take you.” He joked and you just shook your head with a small laugh, smiling up at Jake as his hand rested on the small of your back.

“So you two can run out of fuel above the Pacific?” He jabbed and you just waved your hand between the two of them.

“Not this argument again,” you sighed as you remembered the first night you’d met them all, and their little stand-off by the pool table. Jake’s hand was feather light on your back as he guided you out of the bar and into the cool night air, sliding his jacket over your shoulders just as he always did.

“You know, we do this every night, you’d think you’d remember a jacket.”

“Hoes don’t get cold.” You mumbled, wrapping it around your frame and he barked out a laugh. The silence was comfortable as you started the short walk along the beach to your bungalow, an old family home passed down not too far from the bar. You two had been doing this ever since you met, Jake knew you could take care of yourself but that didn’t stop him from wanting to see for himself that you’d made it home safe, and after one night of forgetting to text him once you did he made it his personal mission to be your escort. You’d protested, saying something about being strong and independent, but in reality you loved it. Out here you saw a completely different side of him. He wasn’t Hangman, he was just Jake.

“Why did you ask Mav if you could take me flying?” You finally asked, breaking the silence. It was so soft he almost didn’t catch it over the sound of the waves lapping against the shore a few yards away.

“Phoenix had a point, you’re a part of the squad and have to listen to all our stories, only seems fair to let you experience it for yourself.” He supplied the same answer from earlier in the night through tight lips and you narrowed your eyes as you looked up at him knowing he wasn’t giving you the full truth. Sure, it was a reason, but it wasn’t the reason.

“Wanna try that again?” You asked, climbing up the stairs of your back porch and settling into the creaky porch swing just as you always did, patting the spot beside you.

He was silent for a moment, swaying the two of you as he sat down, carefully considering his next words but sighing as he knew there wasn’t really anything he could get past you. “I’d honestly been thinking about it before Phoenix brought it up… she just gave me the perfect excuse to finally do something about it. Sometimes I feel like you’re the only person that actually knows me, but you’re missing this huge part and I don’t know… I kind of just wanted to share that with you.” Your breath caught at his vulnerability. You did know him better than anyone, your short walks on the beach that turned into long conversations on that very porch swing into the wee hours of the morning created a bond you didn’t have with any of the other aviators. Somewhere deep down you’d known the two of you were dancing around something much bigger than friendship but you’d both never admit it to yourselves or anyone else for fear of wrecking what you already had. They’d all been on North Island for much longer than you anticipated, and it seemed it would stay that way for a little while longer, but the thought of them all being whisked away from you, especially him, sent a sharp pang through your heart every time it crossed your mind and you’d never jeopardize your moments on the porch swing for something that may not pan out.

“You don’t actually have to if you don’t want to… I probably shouldn’t have sprung it on you in front of everyone, I just-” he started, seeing you deep in thought and suddenly getting self conscious, a feeling so foreign to him he couldn’t stand it.

“No, Jake I’m really touched you even want to take me flying… I know how much it means to you. I’m just a little scared, I mean I’ve heard all of your stories, and Rooster’s and Phoenix's and I just don’t understand how you guys do that every day.”

“Darlin’, all that scary stuff happens on missions. We’re just going on a little joy ride, no enemies lurking around or SAM’s to watch out for. Just you, me and the open sky.” He promised.

“It’s not even that, I…” you trailed off, knowing it was unfair to keep yourself guarded and not share what you were really scared of when he’d been so open with you, but something was stopping you from taking the plunge.

“Tell me,” he encouraged softly, his hand taking up residence on your thigh and rubbing reassuringly.

“I’m scared that I’m going to understand,” you admitted and he looked at you a little confused but waited for you to gather your thoughts enough to continue. “It really terrifies me, you know? What you all do… you rowdy pilots came into my bar and my life hasn’t been the same since, you guys are my family and I hate knowing that any one of these days you could get called away and never make your way back home to me. I’m scared that once I get up there with you I’m going to understand why you all love it so much and then I’m not even going to be able to be mad at you when something goes wrong.”

“Oh sweetheart,” he said, tenderly brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. He was sure his heart had broken wide open hearing your confession, hearing that this had been a fear of yours for longer than he knew. “We’re all going to be just fine, I don’t know if you know this or not but… Dagger Squad is pretty badass.” He said with a small smirk, trying to lift the mood.

“Maverick and Rooster almost died.” Your voice was small and he wasn’t sure how to combat this one. You were right, they did almost die and it was your voice that pushed him to fly after them, your voice that overruled every fiber of his being that was trained to take orders, your voice that got him a slap on the wrist for doing just the opposite. Sure, despite his icy exterior he’d grown a soft spot for Rooster, but more than that he just wasn’t sure he could ever look you in the eye again if he had to come home and tell you they hadn’t made it, that he didn’t do anything to help.

“But they didn’t. We’re an official squadron now, and we’re always going to have each other’s backs. No one on this team is dying until we’re all old and gray, and if for whatever reason something does happen, well… maybe then at least you’ll have the comfort of understanding. Understanding why we do it, and why we’re all okay with the risks.”

You nodded, “I am excited to fly with you, Jake. I kind of just wish you all had chosen different passions,” you said half-heartedly.

“Well sweetheart, then none of us would have ever walked into your bar.” He pulled you into his side, placing a reassuring kiss on your temple and you sat like that for a while, just enjoying the silence and feeling a little better that you’d told him your fears, about the one thing that often kept you up at night. He eventually tugged you up after you let out a loud yawn, pulling out his keys and unlocking your door with the spare you’d given him a while ago… engraved lovingly with ‘Dagger Spare’, a teasing prod to his position within that mission all those months ago. “Let's get you to sleep, you’ve got an exciting day ahead of you.”

He waited on the edge of your bed while you got ready, his own mind swirling as he reflected on what you’d told him. Sure, he knew you’d probably be disappointed if anything happened to them on a mission but he was hung up on your emphasis on him making his way home to you. Of course he flirted with you relentlessly, how could he not? He had decided a while ago you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and not just physically, though his mind, and eyes, did wander. You weaseled your way into his heart about a minute after he met you, in awe of how you handled the busiest night in the bar on your own, still finding the time to banter with him and challenge him like you’d known him your whole life. But despite it all, he would never cross that boundary, never intentionally push you too far with his remarks for fear of messing up a friendship with the only person he’d ever fully trusted.

“You can stay, if you want.” You mumbled, emerging from the bathroom in an oversized Navy shirt abandoned long ago by Jake after a group beach day at your house, and your hair tied up in a bun. Truth be told, it was one of his favorite comfy shirts, but he just didn’t have the heart to ask you for it back when you wore it so much better.

“That’s alright, darlin’,” he said, standing and pulling back the covers for you to slip into bed. You smiled softly as you settled in, watching as he propped himself up with a hand on your headboard to look down at you, “have something I need to grab before I blow your mind tomorrow.”

“Is that so?” Sleep was tugging at the corners of your mind and Jake committed the scene before him to memory, you looking up at him through tired eyes, his shirt riding up your exposed thighs. He tugged the blankets over you before the sight pushed him to do something reckless.

“Mmhm,” he replied nonchalantly before grabbing your phone, setting an alarm and plugging it in for you. “Meet me on base at 8, have some safety stuff to go over with you before I can take you up.”

You nodded, pulling the blankets under your chin and snuggling further into bed. “Thank you, Jake.”

“What for, sweetheart?”

“For being you.” Your eyes were closed now and he knew it was only a matter of seconds before you were asleep. He couldn’t help but smile, ducking down to brush your hair out of your face and place a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“Sweet dreams, honey.”

-----

The morning air sent a chill up your spine as you rolled down your window and passed your ID to the Naval officer at the guardhouse just outside the base, verifying you were in fact given clearance for the day. He waved you through and you felt the nerves begin to settle deep within your stomach as you found an empty parking spot. You stepped out of the car, adjusting your tank top as you looked down and wondered for the tenth time this morning if yoga pants and a thin tank were an appropriate choice for the day's activities. You felt you looked more ready for a run than flying around in a multi-million dollar fighter jet but you just weren’t sure what was appropriate.

You tapped the temporary key card you’d been given at the doors entrance, easily navigating your way through base to the hanger. This wasn’t the first time you’d been here, having been added to several of the pilots' visitors lists at various times to sit in on training per their request, or to watch them teach a new round of Top Gun students a flight maneuver on the radar. Your heart warmed as you remembered just how badly they wanted you to be a part of all of this with them, as much as you could, sharing the pieces they were able to.

“There she is!” Bob said excitedly, making his way to you as you walked out into the open air of the hangar to wrap you in a bear hug.

“Hey Bobby,” you greeted, ruffling his hair and walking with him as he rambled on about how excited he was for you to fly. “Oh wow, whole team is here for this.” You said, approaching the group a little nervously.

“Of course we are, we’ll be watching on the radar the whole time and listening in,” Mav reassured you. Your eyes darted around, looking for your favorite pilot but you didn’t see him anywhere.

“He’s just grabbing something,” Phoenix said, noting your confusion. “Meanwhile, I’ve been tasked with suiting you up.” She tugged you off to the side as everyone else lapsed back into conversation. She grabbed the flight suit that had been draped over a nearby table, watching you slip off your shoes and helping you step into it.

“Aw, I’m Natasha Trace for the day,” you said as she zipped you in, noticing her name patch and smiling.

“Actually, no you’re not.” She smirked, ripping the patch off and tucking it into her pocket. Hangman finally made an appearance and as you rejoined the group you noticed he had a helmet tucked under his arm and he invaded your space to smooth a new patch onto the now empty space of velcro on your chest.

“You made me a name patch?” You asked, fingers ghosting over your name in dark green embroidery, Whiskey just underneath it. You couldn’t help but feel a little emotional that he’d gone through all of this for you, and it turned into a lot emotional when he revealed the helmet, complete with your callsign just like everyone else's. “You did not.”

“If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right. I meant it, you’re a part of this team.” He smiled down at you, reassuringly squeezing your shoulders. Phoenix snapped a quick photo of you holding up your helmet, saying it was just about the cutest thing she’d ever seen before all of the pilots filtered back inside to watch the radar. He guided you past his own jet, smiling as you looked up at his name in big letters on the side, to the jet he’d be borrowing for the day. “How you feelin’?”

“A little more nervous, feels a lot more real now than it did last night.” You admitted, and he noticed the slight tremble in your hands before taking them in his own.

“It’s going to be just fine, once we get up there you’ll forget why you were even nervous.” He reassured, strapping you into all the necessary gear and securing your parachute pack to your back. He helped you climb up the steps, holding your hand as you stepped into the jet and sat in the backseat. He began pointing out everything in front of you, all the little buttons and where you could see them on the radar, explaining that this was Bob’s domain in the jet.

“Do I have to do anything?” You asked, feeling overwhelmed taking in everything before you.

He shook his head, “not at all, none of this has anything to do with the actual flying, it’s for weapons control on a mission and making sure we keep in contact with the base.” You nodded, feeling a little relieved you weren’t going to be given any kind of task. “Now, this is the important part, sweetheart, you see these loops right here?” He asked, pointing between your feet, “these are for if we need to punch out.”

“If we need to punch out?” You asked, your eyes widening.

“We won’t need to, but I need you to know where they are. If I tell you to eject, you need to do it the second I tell you to, and you need to pull up on these loops with everything you have, alright?” He asked, eyes looking intensely into yours, looking for confirmation you understood and you nodded. “And this right here,” he gestured to a string attached to something he’d strapped you into earlier, “is connected to your parachute. As soon as you’re clear of the jet pull this and it will deploy and make sure you land safely. You don’t worry about the rest, I’ll take care of it when we’re on the ground.”

“But, all of this is hypothetical right?” You asked, suddenly envisioning having to blast yourself out of the jet and parachute down to safety.

“All hypothetical, darlin’, this is just a fun little ride, but you’ve gotta know the basics.” He reassured, placing a warm hand over your own.

“Putting a lot of trust in you here, Jake,” you exhaled nervously.

“And I don’t take that lightly.” He squeezed your hand, “I’ll be taking you to the old training area we used for the last mission, minus all of the crazy maneuvers and stress. Just easy flying, and a few little tricks.” You nodded, feeling reassured that you weren’t going very far. He began strapping you in and you grunted as he pulled roughly, making sure everything was tight before tapping the helmet in your lap, signaling you to put it on. “This is your mask,” he said, clipping it into your helmet, “it’s got your mic in it so you and I can communicate when it’s a little loud in here, as well as so all our looky-loos can hear us.” Before you knew it you were ready to go, and Jake was hopping into the front seat, getting himself situated.

“Ready, darlin’?”

“As I’ll ever be.” You peered around the seat, watching as he pressed various buttons, completely unsure of what he was doing but soon you felt the engine roar to life underneath you and the nervous pit in your stomach Jake had settled just moments ago returned.

“Hangman to range control, takeoff prechecks complete, how do you read?”

“Loud and clear, you are clear to taxi.” Surely enough you began to move, slowly pulling out of the hangar and navigating to the runway.

“You remember what I said, Hangman?” Mav’s voice rang in your ears.

“Couldn’t forget it, sir.” He confirmed and had you not been more nervous you would have questioned it, but all you were focused on was not throwing up. Jake began going back and forth with the tower, confirming all sorts of things that sounded like a foreign language to you, until it didn’t.

“Hangman, you are cleared for take off.”

“Here we go, sweetheart.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, and you wished more than anything you could actually see him instead of the outline of his shoulders in front of you, seeing his bright green eyes might give you just a shred of comfort. He pressed a few more buttons, and suddenly you were gaining speed down the runway faster than you would have ever anticipated.

“Holy shit,” you muttered, muscles tensing as you lifted off the ground, soaring into the sky and watching as everything below you grew rather small. You quickly rose in altitude, and you blinked rapidly, internally repeating over and over again that Jake would never put you in danger even though the sheer incline of the jet had you questioning everything.

“How you doing back there?” He asked, as if he could sense your tension.

“Oh you know, totally fine and normal.” You laughed nervously.

“We’ll level out in a second, just gotta reach the hard deck.”

“Not my preferred hard deck…” you muttered and you heard him laugh in front of you. True to his word, the plane leveled out and you relaxed a little, feeling brave enough to look at the world below you. You tilted slightly to the right, turning as you circled around the base and increased speed as you assumed you were now on the designated flight path.

“We’ll reach the training area in about 5 minutes where the weather is cloudless and warm, in the meantime please keep your tray table locked and upright and enjoy the ride.” Jake joked and it further eased you, the tension leaving your muscles just as quickly as it had settled.

“That actually wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.” You mused, watching as the ocean slowly faded into the distance and taking in the tan and rocky terrain below.

“See, told you, sweetheart. Take off and landing is the roughest part and even then it’s not so scary.” It fell silent as you continued to look around you, and even more so than earlier you wished you could see his face, you were almost certain he’d have a look of calm content and you wanted so badly to see that part of him. The part that was at home up here, but you’d decided this was more than enough. “Alright sweetheart, you see that ridge ahead? We’re going up and over, weight of gravity will be going against us a little but nothing too crazy, you’ll just feel a little pressure.”

“Aye aye, Captain.” You teased.

“That’s Lieutenant, Whiskey.” You heard Mav correct in your ears and you laughed, forgetting they could all hear you for a moment. Just as he’d promised, you quickly overtook the ridge and gasped a little as you felt the weight pulling you back in your seat and winding you before you surged forward in your seat.

“You okay?” He asked, and honestly? You were more than okay. You felt a rush of adrenaline as you regained your breath and you couldn’t help but smile as exactly what you feared had happened. You understood. “Whiskey?” He prompted when you were silent.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good, Jake. More than good.” He knew that tone in your voice like the back of his hand and a grin erupted across his features, a giddy feeling rising in his chest knowing you were now enjoying this.

“And there we have it, she’s officially a flygirl.” You heard Rooster in your ears and you laughed, loving that even though you were flying with Jake, you still had everyone by your side.

“Take your mask off for a second,” you heard Jake say and you did as you were told, pulling it off and letting it dangle to the side.

“No fair, I wanna hear!” Phoenix said and you giggled, interest piqued at what he didn’t want them to hear.

“You get it now, don’t you?”

“This is fucking incredible, Jake. I’m not even in control and I feel like I can do anything. I get why you love this so much.”

“I wanted you to experience this, but more than that I wanted you to experience this with me. This is everything, sweetheart. Everything I need, and everything I want right here in this plane with me.” He said and your heart skipped a beat at his confession, “I just wanted you to know that, you can put your mask back on.” You did slowly, mind reeling with what he’d told you. Everything he wants?

“Hey, Whiskey?” You heard Bob as he pulled you from your thoughts and your head cocked, affirming with a ‘yeah’ that you’d heard him. “Wanna do something cool?”

You laughed, “sure, why not?”

“Alright, on your radar, third button from the right will switch you to a terrain map, can you do that?”

“Are you sure you want me pressing buttons back here, Bob?” You asked hesitantly, but pressed it anyway.

“You can’t hurt anything back there, once you do that do you see the joystick to your left with a red button underneath?”

“Mmhm,” you confirmed, fingers ghosting over the hard plastic.

“That right there is controlling your laser, move that around until you find a target below you, once you have it hit the red button and it’ll lock it in.” You did as you were told, hearing a tone sound in the cabin as you locked onto a tree just ahead. “There you go, you just secured a target for your other teammates to swoop in and hit.” The tone stopped as Jake passed the target and you smiled to yourself.

“Careful Bob, I might just steal your position as Phoenix's backseater.” You joked.

“I’ll start figuring out how to make that happen.” Phoenix teased, and while she was no longer pressing the mic button you were sure Bob was protesting back on base.

“Alright my little WSO, do you trust me?” Jake asked and any nerves you’d once felt were gone, and just as he promised you weren’t sure why you were nervous in the first place.

“Yes.” You were sure and confident, and Jake’s chest swelled knowing there wasn’t an ounce of dishonesty in your reply. Before you knew it you were on your side, zipping through the air as Jake pulled out all the stops for you, veering from side to side as you couldn’t stop the giggles falling from your lips, and he decided right then and there he would never stop trying to get you to laugh like that.

He whipped up and over, making you gasp as you clearly saw the ground through the canopy, “Jake, we’re upside down.” You said, an obvious observation and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yes, yes we are sweetheart,” he chuckled, flipping you back over and continuing to show you his favorite flying tricks, you laughing like a little kid the whole time. You fully and wholly understood with your whole being why Jake chose this path, why they all did. Zipping through the air and maneuvering in ways that shouldn’t have even been possible flooded your veins with the most euphoric feeling, leaving you dizzy with excitement.

“God, this is amazing. You are amazing, Jake.” You said breathless as he righted the plane after a barrel roll.

“You think you’ve had enough?” He asked, sidestepping the way you’d breathed out the compliment.

“Never, but we can head back.” You answered, knowing you couldn’t stay out here forever. He turned the plane, going back the way you’d come over the now familiar terrain, adrenaline still flowing through you leaving a stupid grin on your face.

“Ah shit, what the fuck birds are those?” You heard Jake ask with a sigh, flicking buttons before you jerked suddenly, “Hangman to control, breaching the hard deck to avoid a bird strike.”

“Confirmed.” Your altitude dropped rapidly, Jake clearly ignoring warning bells that sounded as you dipped lower than you thought you would, him expertly maneuvering the rocky hills not as far below you as they once were. The tension slowly rolled back in, now knowing these were not fun tricks he was pulling out but ones to keep you both safe. He narrowly avoided clipping into the side of a ridge, and you tried to keep your reactions to yourself as he whizzed through the canyon.

“Get out of the canyon, Hangman.” Rooster sounded in your ears, making your heart rate accelerate knowing that you weren’t the only one concerned.

“Working on it, bird boy.” He shot back, and sure enough you were back above the ridges like nothing had ever happened. “Whiskey, you okay back there?”

“Mmhm, never better.” You replied a little shakily.

“Congratulations, you just survived your first bird strike.” The flight back to base seemed shorter than it took to get there, and before you knew it you were touching down on the tarmac, engine coming to a low rumble as you taxied back into the hangar. You felt like you were buzzing as the canopy lifted and Jake quickly detached himself of all his gear to be at your side and help you out. “Are the reviews in?” He asked a little hesitantly, knowing you might be shaken after your unexpected trip through the canyon.

“Jake I- I mean, that was…” you trailed off, not having the words to describe what you were feeling, watching as his brow furrowed above you, carefully loosening all of your straps. You didn’t know if it was the adrenaline, or being high above the earth giving you a new perspective but suddenly everything looked different. Felt different. His previous words rattled around your mind and it felt like something had clicked into place. He pulled the helmet off your head, his hand coming to smooth down your hair and he just couldn’t decipher the look on your face, gazing up at him with wild eyes. He gave you a little tug as he undid the last of your safety harness and when he went to pull away you gripped the collar of his flight suit, keeping him right where you wanted him. “Jake…” you trailed off, eyes searching those pools of green you could never get enough of. Your hand moved from his flight suit, fingers grazing along his neck as you settled on his jaw, holding him in your hands and you felt him clench beneath your fingers. He had no idea what you were doing but hell if he was going to do anything to stop you, eyes almost challenging you to make your next move and you pushed yourself forward, lips brushing against his.

It was all he needed to push you back into your seat, kissing you with the hunger of a man starved. You moaned softly against him as his hand rested at the back of your head, gripping gently at the base and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, tongue brushing against yours. Somewhere in the back of your head you heard voices approaching but you didn’t have it in you to care, desperate to taste more of him.

“Hey flygirl, how are you- oh my.” Rooster stopped in his tracks as he saw what was going on just above them and awkwardly cleared his throat as Jake pulled away, lips swollen and a shit-eating grin taking over his features. “I take it you enjoyed yourself.” Your cheeks flushed, taking Jake’s hand as he helped you out of the jet, legs feeling like jelly as you all but stumbled down the steps.

You cleared your throat, “yes, I very much enjoyed myself.” Looking up at Jake the grin hadn’t worn off and you couldn’t help but laugh, feeling the adrenaline begin to wear off as you adjusted to being back on solid ground.

“Knew you’d love it.” Phoenix said, giving you a not-so-subtle thumbs up. The rest of the group now felt a little uncomfortable, not surprised but also not fully expecting what they’d walked in on and muttered some congratulations on your first flight and mentioning they’d meet you at the bar later before leaving you and Jake alone in the hangar. The tension in the air was palpable and you avoided his eyes, neither of you knowing quite what to say.

“Sweetheart, no wrong answer here,” he started after a few moments, “was that an ‘I’m hopped up on adrenaline’ kiss or something else?” You pondered your options. You could cop out and say it was the adrenaline, move on and pretend it had never happened, effectively preserving your friendship and ensuring you’d never lose him, or… or you could admit what it was. Admit that you were fooling yourself into thinking you were just friends with Jake Seresin, admit that in the dead of night and the solitude of your bedroom your mind did wander, did wonder what it would be like if you just crossed that boundary and let your feelings for him rush in.

“It wasn’t the adrenaline.” You finally said, looking up to meet his eyes and you saw the relief roll over him like a wave.

“Thank god.” He pulled you close and kissed you again, leaving you just as dizzy as you’d been thousands of feet in the air.

“Hey, Jake?” You asked, pulling away with a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Mmhm?”

“Take me home.”

-----

It was a clash of tongues and teeth as you stumbled your way through your house, Jake’s hands rough and exploring as he tried to commit the feeling of you beneath him to memory. Leaving a trail of clothes in your wake, he pushed you backwards into the bed a little harder than he intended and you giggled as your back hit the mattress, his kisses along your jaw much more tender than the previous action. His thigh slotted between yours as he leaned his weight into you, the pressure against your core coaxing a whine from your lips. He removed himself from your jaw, leg pushing up to give you more friction as he looked down at you as if you’d hung all the stars in the sky and the intensity of his gaze had you struggling to regain your breath.

“So beautiful,” he muttered, mostly to himself as his fingers ghosted along your cheekbone before pressing a delicate kiss to your cheek, then your lips as he continued his worship all the way down your exposed body, gently biting into the flesh and soothing the marks with his tongue as he went. He stopped just between your thighs, carefully kneeling at the edge of the bed and pulling you down to meet his face, taking his time kissing and sucking the soft skin just around where you wanted him the most. You writhed beneath him, desperate for something, anything, as he continued his dizzying assault on your senses. His eyes flicked up to your own, asking silently for permission as his fingers slipped under the lacy band of your underwear and you nodded, suddenly feeling nervous at being so exposed to him, already so desperate before he’d fully touched you.

The discarded scrap of fabric was tossed somewhere behind him as he hooked his arms around your thighs, holding you in place as his breath fanned over your dripping core causing you to shiver, “so beautiful,” he muttered again, pressing a kiss to your heat before licking a stripe up your folds and focusing his tongue to your clit. You gasped as he licked and swirled the sensitive bud, sucking it into his mouth as became desperate to taste more of you.

“Jake,” you moaned, the sound sending shocks straight to his cock and he didn’t think his name had ever sounded so good. He pulled away, much to your dismay that was voiced with a whine, before you felt him spit on your core, warm and dripping as he slowly teased your entrance, tongue reconnecting with your clit. He took his time, exploring you and exploring what made the sweetest sounds fall from your lips and your hips bucked as you silently pleaded him to stop teasing you.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” He made it clear that he had no intention to cease his teasing anytime soon, a single finger shallowly toying with your entrance as you coated him with your slick. You sighed when he fully plunged his finger in, searching for that spot that made obscenities tumble out of your mouth, stretching you as he added another digit, curling them just so. He focused his attention on you, watching as you lost yourself in the pleasure he was giving you, cock straining against his boxers and he quickly rid himself of them with his free hand to lazily stroke his length, desperate for some kind of friction as you made the most beautiful sounds above him. Your legs began to shake around his head as your release quickly began to approach, him abandoning his aching cock in pursuit of pushing them open when you’d tried to clamp them shut.

“Fuck, Jake, I-” you began babbling as your orgasm hit you like a freight train.

“That’s it, baby girl,” he mumbled against you, working you through your orgasm and lapping up everything you had to give him. He gingerly removed his fingers, tongue still working you as you twitched at the overstimulation coming down from your high. He kissed back up your body, settling on top of you and you kissed him desperately, tasting yourself on his lips and moaning as you felt him brush against you. You reached between your bodies, stroking his length as you lined him up to your entrance and despite everything his body was telling him, he paused. “You sure, sweetheart? We can wait.” You smiled up at him, knowing even as you were both lost in the passion of the moment, his top priority would always be making sure you were okay.

“Please,” you begged, “please, Jake.” He slowly began to sink into you, groaning into your ear as he bottomed out, giving you a moment to adjust. You wrapped your legs around him, moaning as the sting of the stretch began to ease only to be replaced with the pure pleasure of feeling full.

“So fucking tight, sweetheart,” he mumbled against you as he pulled almost fully out before sinking back in, desperate to feel the way you so easily accepted him again. He lifted his head slightly, hips bucking into yours and giving you a tender kiss before he quickened his pace, eyes meeting yours and you nodded at the silent question. His thrusts grew rougher as he threw one of your legs above his shoulder, the deeper angle making you throw your head back with a groan.

“Feel so fucking good,” you managed to get out between thrusts, only spurring him on more as he continued his relentless pace.

“So beautiful, taking me so well sweetheart,” he grunted, bringing a hand between you to circle your clit. You swore you were seeing stars as the pleasure overwhelmed you, the noises filling your bedroom nothing short of obscene and you began to feel the pressure build within you. You knew your second release was coming on quicker than the last and you intentionally clenched around him, trying to bring him there with you. “Fuck, do that again baby,” he groaned, dropping his head into your neck as you did and your nails scratched into his back, leaving red streaks in their wake. Your walls fluttered around him, body writhing as you came, his name falling from your lips like a prayer as you felt him twitch inside you and fill you with his cum. He placed tender kisses to your neck, working up to your jaw before peppering your face with kisses and coaxing breathless giggles from you as he slowly pulled out of you. He rolled onto his back, pulling you along with him and you settled into his side, head on his chest as you listened to his heartbeat slowly return to normal.

“Would have taken you flying a long time ago if I’d known this would happen,” leave it to Jake to take this opportunity to crack a joke and you just swatted at his chest.

“I guess I’m no better than the girls I tease at the bar… falling into bed with a cocky pilot.”

“Your cocky pilot.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you loved how that sounded.

“I love you,” you weren’t sure why you said it, the weight of the moment simply getting on top of you, but you heard his heart jump beneath you and wondered if maybe you’d spoken too soon.

“I love you too, darlin’.”

-----

Later that evening the Hard Deck roared with life, your friends excitedly buzzing about and rehashing your first flight.

“You handled that bird strike like a champ, I threw up the second I touched down after my first.” Phoenix said proudly, knowing you were more alike than Jake than you may have realized, knowing you would feel just as safe up there as you did right here.

“Not gonna lie, I did think I was gonna blow when we almost hit the ridge.”

“We didn’t almost hit anything, sweetheart,” Jake said cockily as he pressed a kiss to your temple, his arm wrapped snug around your waist. The group continued to chatter as you sipped your drink, pulling away from the conversation and leaning into the man at your side, humming in content.

“Hey, Jake?” You asked, looking over your group of friends before lifting your head to meet his eyes.

“Yeah darlin’?”

“This is everything. Everything I need, everything I want.”

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #hangman x you #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin smut #hangman smut #hangman x y/n #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction

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markhoffmans-certified-slut · 10 months ago

Note

hii, i was wondering if you could make a art x reader? i would prefer headcanons but anything is fine!! no rush btw <3

Art the Clown x f!reader

Word count: 1.5K

Notes: Okay, so I technically will be doing a “What it’s like to date Art the Clown” chapter, but this will sort of be in a similar format, if that makes sense. I hope that you enjoy this!! Sorry for the super long wait, I was digging through my asks and saw this one for the first time and I was like “I should do this” 😂

Also, there wasn’t any specification on if you wanted anything smutty as well, so I just kept this one fluffy!

<>~<>~<>

You met super unconventionally. It was dark out, you were walking home late, and you were wearing a sparkly dress and pretty heels. You were perfect bait for the clown. He assumed that you were leaving a club, a party, etc., but what he hadn’t expected was for you to be so aware of your surroundings. You had heard him, then you saw him, then you fucking bolted.

Art was so surprised to see the way you ran in the heels that he almost forgot to chase you.

Almost.

By time he had caught you, he thought you’d give up. Instead, he got whammed in the head by a loose brick you saw on the ground. His vision went blurry, but he watched you take the heels off quickly before running again. This time you seemed faster than before. For once, he gave up and looked at the sky through blurred vision and let you go.

A day went by, then a week, then a month, before he saw you again. A similar circumstance, but this time you were a bit more disorientated. You wore flats, had a wristlet-purse on, and jeans this time. You were grasping the wall for support, but you were alone. He watched you for a minute, slowly following behind the bushes across the street, remembering before when you had gotten away.

Did he hold a grudge? Sort of, but he wanted you. To kill? He was unsure. This was the very first time Art had ever seen a pretty girl walking alone and not immediately gotten the urge to stab until she was dead. He waited a minute, trying to decide what to do with his strange emotions, when he realized that the two of you were at the same spot where you had hit him over the head. Truth be told, the rest of that night was slightly blurry for him, and not just because his vision went wonky.

He was angry, but there was more inside of him than that. Curiosity, a dreaded sense of interest. Nobody had ever gotten away like you had. He wanted to know more about you. he needed to know more about you.

You were much more coherent the night before. Tonight you were wobbling on your feet. Part of you thought about going back, but you were already more than halfway home. By time you made it to the spot that you had hit that clown over the head, you were too far gone to turn back. Through your still drunken state, you continued to head in the direction of your apartment, holding onto the wall for support.

That’s when you heard a second set of footsteps right behind you splash in the water. By time you turned around, it was too late.

He held you in captivity with him for awhile. Occasionally bringing you back an eyeball or a dead mouse as a gift. Sort of like a cat. You would groan in disgust and scoot back against the wall while he sat cross-legged across from you and sent you a deranged smile while he waited for you to take his gift. When you eventually didn’t, Art would move on.

Slowly, you started to warm up to the strange clown. Never once did he hurt you. Only did he stand or sit there and watch you. It was creepy, sure, but you had a lot to be thankful for. Eventually Art let you out of the chains and showed you around his little workshop-makeshift sleeping area. Did he ever actually sleep? You weren’t sure.

Time went by fast with Art. Sooner than you thought, you started to actually like the clown. What came after that, you were certain your younger self would have been afraid of and disgusted by.

Months went by. Eventually you were free to wander the barred up building while he was out. Of course the door was locked from the outside, but truth be told, you were fine staying around here. He started to bring you actual food instead of just scraps he probably found in the dumpster.

And then, one day, he just left the door unlocked. A test, maybe? You were almost disgusted with yourself, but when the door creaked open when you tried it (mostly out of old habit), you hesitated. Then, you shut the door and went back to the bed you slept on and went to sleep. When Art came back, you could tell he was surprised.

After that, the rest was history.

The little gifts Art brought you back started to be less weird. Instead of body parts, dead mice, or metal scraps, he brought you back real food, a bracelet off a victim (shockingly without the arm attached), even a few books to pass the time.

One day, instead of a wave goodbye, you kissed him on the cheek. You swore you might have seen a hint of embarrassment in his eyes before he turned to leave.

Years went by quickly. One day Art returned you to your normal life, however he was quick to sneak into your apartment in the middle of the night and start resting with you. However, he trusted you. He allowed you to go back to work, to resume your life as it was before he kidnapped you. To see your friends again and go to bars, but this time the clown wouldn’t be the one stalking you to hurt you. He would follow you almost everywhere you went, watching, waiting for someone to try and hurt you so he could maim them.

The longer you were with him, the better his gifts continued to get, until one day he brought you back a shiny diamond ring and told you that you could start wearing it (this wasn’t a request).

Art understands that everybody can’t know who you belong to, but he wants to make sure everybody knows that you belong to someone.

He doesn’t care how hard this is to explain to your friends. If he sees you without the ring, he finds it and he puts it back on you.

There’s no reason to fight with him about anything. Art always gets his way in the end.

Surprisingly, Art really likes dogs and insists on you getting a puppy, even if you’re the one that will have to do all of the training. Art really wants a dog and he shows you which kind to get. However, if you bring home a different type of dog, he would accept that as well.

Sometimes when Art is sitting beside you, dressed in normal clothes without his clown makeup on, and he has his arm around you and the other resting on the dog, you feel almost normal.

You never end up actually getting married. The ring is symbolism enough to the both of you.

When he’s with you, Art slows down on the killing. Mostly because in order to cause midnight chaos, he has to be away from you. And sometimes all he really wants is to hold you while you’re sleeping.

He’s not entirely sure how you got to him the way you did, but he can’t say he complains. In a way, you hope that maybe Art will one day stop it all together. That he might end up being a normal husband-like-boyfriend-demon-being-thing.

At the end of the day, Art would choose you over murdering and you would choose him even if he continued with his old ways.

He loves horror movies and he will always make you watch them with him. If you ever get scared, he’ll make fun of you a little bit, but he will also keep you close and kiss your head. Art likes to watch bloody, gory horror movies, but his favorite is Nightmare on Elm Street.

He’s seen it over 75 times.

He falls asleep during regular movies.

Art is sort of like a guard dog. Every time that something goes bump in the night, even if he’s snoring louder than the devil, he bolts upright and insists on taking a look around. The dog usually goes with him. Because of this, new environments are harder for him to get used to.

He is like a bottomless pit. Art eats a lot of food.

Art is terrible at any form of game. He gets annoyed and swats his hand at the air and starts pouting when it gets too hard. Video game, board game, verbal game— it doesn’t matter. He sucks at all of them and 9 times out of 10 will refuse to play.

He teaches you sign language because he can’t/doesn’t speak. You think it’s funny how he overdoes everything he does when he mime’s it since he can’t talk.

He loves it when you play along with his miming. Sometimes he pretends that he’s stuck in a box and he likes it when you pretend like you can’t get to him.

Overall, Art is a shockingly supportive partner. When you’re having a bad day, he’ll ask if he needs to kill someone. He’s a great listener as well. He’ll sit there and hold you and rub your arm while you explain everything that happened. He’s more than willing to sit there for the whole night with you if it would truly help.

You’re stuck with him for the rest of your life. You can’t ever leave Art. He won’t let you.

#art the clown #terrifier #terrifier 2 #terrifier art the clown #art the clown x female reader #art the clown x female reader fluff #art the clown x reader #art the clown x reader fluff

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bugeater101 · 2 years ago

Text

Stop Hitting Yourself

Synopsis: After four years of high school, you were sick and tired of Yang Jeongin. However, your inexperience with relationships combined with his persistence have you questioning your feelings towards him. Now, in the final stretch of your secondary education, you've somehow been paired up with that brute in a project. Yet, your study plans in the library take a different turn when you let your curiosity (and his perseverance) get the better of you.

Content: bully!Jeongin x nerd!fem!reader, plus size!reader, virgin!innocent!reader (doesn't know anything besides basic biology), dom!Jeongin, big dick!Jeongin, Jeongin is a dumbass (also oscillates between like cold bad boy and golden retriever boy), hand kink, reader has small hands, Jeongin has huge hands (duh), enemies to lovers, school AU, the reader is a bit insecure and endures a lot of bullying by Jeongin (teasing, mocking, comments related to glasses, no other negative comments related to appearance), mentions of smoking, 0-100 kind of plot, groping, spanking, pain kink, oral sex (male!receiving), crying, degradation, slight size kink, public sex, unprotected sex (please where a condom!!), mentions of breeding, vaginal penetrative sex, a hella cute epilogue.

Word Count: ~16.9 k (I AM SO SORRY)

Author's Notes: This fic is for my lovely and patient followers and hte amazing anon who sent in this request! Also, even though this AU takes place in a high school setting, please note that both Jeongin and the reader are 18+ in this fic. Minors, do not interact! This work also follows a lot of stereotypes about like "nerds" and "bullies" but bear with me y'all. If you ever find yourself in a similar situation, trussss that it is not because the bully is harbouring some crush on you. This fic uses such dynamics to simply build towards the smut and power dynamics. To quote Tyler the Creator, "Hey, don't do anything I'm about to say." Also, I would eventually love to do another and much shorter part two, but that is an idea for another time. Thank y'all as always!

Taglist: @scribblemetae @mygsis, @9900z @taekbokki,@imtoooyoungforthisshit, @jihanlovic, @compersian

You had three goals once you entered high school: get good grades, stay out of trouble, and try to have fun.

Yang Jeongin, however, seemed hell-bent on destroying any semblance of peace in your life. In fact, you bet that his whole schedule was dedicated to manifesting your misery. Or, possibly, he just brought torment with him wherever he went.

Nevertheless, it was accurate to claim that his purpose (in your perception) was to make you miserable. For the past school year, you had seen more of Jeongin than you ever wished to: your schedules put him in at least two classes with you every semester for four years and you also lived relatively close to one another. So, your encounters were frequent, expected, and... "memorable", to say the least.

Every day since freshman orientation, you have been forced to acknowledge Jeongin's existence on a daily basis. Almost immediately, he adopted a particularly cruel stance toward you. When it all first started, his taunts were just for fun and to seek attention, to say the least. Now, he just seemed mean. Not to anyone in particular: Jeongin was just a generally disagreeable person, and especially to you. And it hurt.

Obviously, it hurt, who would not be hurt if they found themselves in such circumstances?

It was embarrassing to admit it, but Jeongin's indifference toward you was often offset by your more "cordial" feelings toward him. Actual motherfucking cordial feelings. In other words, you had harboured a small, tiny, minuscule, microscopic crush on him that even his meanest days could not challenge. So, you've had a crush on Jeongin since you first met him and it has been the dumbest thing you've ever done.

You remember when you first saw him. It was orientation for high school, the first day of the semester. You were a freshman and he was too. However, your appearance alone separated you and him into two distinct social categories. Like the delinquents that were his so-called friends, he wore his uniform messily: tie loose, shirt untucked, sneakers, and messy hair. Everything he did was with an insufferable air of nonchalance and disrespect, almost aggressive in the languid, lazy movements he made. Even his walk reeked of a cockiness that altered the milieu of the room. You couldn't believe how intolerable he was, nor could you believe how your cheeks flushed at the mere sight of him. High cheekbones, a fox-like face, slender build but definitely on the muscular side. God, not to mention he was big. He was tall, at least taller than the other boys in your grade. His height alone made him stick out like a sore thumb, not to mention his clothing. He had immediately caught your eye and it made you sick.

And then there was you: you were just as out of place as he was, but for entirely different reasons. Your hair was proper, your glasses were well polished, and your uniform was always ironed. Of course, the uniform rarely fit properly as you were bigger. The shirt never buttoned right and the skirt was too short in the back, making you feel much more out of place than you would have liked. Other than your rather ill-fitting uniform, your propriety and intelligence made you the odd one out. You contrasted much of the student population in those respects, especially Yang Jeongin.

For lack of a better word, you were a fucking loser. And so was Jeongin. But at least he owned it. Maybe that was what you liked about him, that he knew he wasn't much and didn't have to prove himself through school or other activities. Either that or how fucking attractive his jawline was or his messy hair.

Jeongin and his friends managed to sit somewhat near you during orientation. He couldn't see you from his position, but you could see him. His confident stare, the flirtatious grin he flashed, and the troublesome giddiness in his eyes would normally make you well annoyed. But, with him, it was somehow different, like he wasn't just another stupid boy you couldn't wait to ignore and forget. God. It was like some trope where he was the bad boy and you were some know-it-all who was desperate for some freedom, which he could offer you.

The entire assembly went over your head as your eyes transfixed on the boy who sat in front of you with his giggling gaggle of friends and troublemakers. You swore he thought he was one of the cutest boys you'd ever seen.

That all quickly changed once you got to know him.

You only had two classes with him that year but they were unforgettable due to the sheer torture he put you through. He would tease you, take your notes, copy off of your tests, and sometimes right his name on your homework (and he would still manage to get shitty grades). Needless to say, your fondness for him obviously and quickly diminished.

Yet, you still knew that those feelings hadn't entirely disappeared. They were still there, just somewhere deep down. However, some nights, those feelings were quite shallow and you didn't need to search so deeply to find them, as if you could reach out and touch them with ease. It happened late at night and only in the shroud of darkness. Your head would either be too busy or too slow, as if the overbearing presence of thoughts or their complete absence somehow created a tunnel to your most shameful yet needful desires. Though you wouldn't like to admit it, at these moments you find yourself pining for him. And then you feel those feelings, the ones that you don't really understand but you're too embarrassed to even type the words into the search bar and figure out what's going on so you just deal with them. And then you spend the night lying in your bed, tossing and turning to your memories of Jeongin, wondering what he would be like if he were here with you now.

Fuck. You need a boyfriend, or to at least get laid.

Yeah. You're inexperienced, but you know the basics. At least, you think you do. When it comes to Jeongin, all logic gets thrown out the window. You often find yourself wondering what you actually want to do with him: to kill him or… God, you couldn’t even think of the filthy things you wanted him to do to you. Maybe it was because you were too embarrassed to think such things, or maybe it was because you truly didn’t know what to think. Despite acing AP biology and understanding how everything physiologically works, your lack of experience has made you rather ill-equipped when it comes to anything romantic or "alleviating" those feelings you have when you think about Jeongin. Either way, your mind was blank when it came to him, especially those feelings that make you toss and turn and pray that weird giddy feeling goes away.

Now, after four years, you can practically taste your liberation from him. However, it's becoming increasingly difficult to ignore his teases. Not only is he becoming more annoying by the second, but it also seems like he is just getting fucking hotter. Especially when he magically starts paying attention in class and you finally have a chance to stare at him uninhibited, as if being free from his constant attention finally gives you a chance to admire him. It looks like you are staring off into space, but really you are studying him. His pretty face, how good he would look if he cleaned himself up a bit more, or even admitting to yourself how good he looks all scruffy. You would study his body, how slender he is, how you want to feed him good desserts, how you think he would be the type of boyfriend to never resist eating his partner's food. Then you would acknowledge how he keeps his nail beds clean. How nice his hands are, overall. How nice they would be to hold. How big they are, how veiny... how that insinuates he is big and veiny in other places.

...Okay, so you weren't completely out of the dating sphere. You were naive, but you knew how everything worked. However, you also knew that there was more than just strange feelings and vaginal penetration and orgasms and pregnancy and yada yada yada: there was more beyond sex than just sex. But, of course, you never worked up the courage to simply type lewd searches into Google or bother to ask any of your friends about it. Except for the hand thing, which is just that: a hand thing. A thing you have for hands, Jeognin’s hands, and yeah. Just a hand thing. Nothing else. Yeah.

Anyways, you remained—more or less—in the dark about sex. Though you would like to know more, you know that you've only felt certain feelings towards Jeongin, and only him, of all people. For any logical person, it is better to bury those feelings deep inside than let yourself accept that they are awoken by a ghastly man who cares little for you or your well-being.

You'd rather stick to your studies, anyways.

Today, however, was a particularly irritating day. Normally, Jeongin enjoyed following you around, jeering rude chants at you with his friends (your favourite was the classic and unoriginal "Hey four-eyes!" followed by a chorus of giggles), or trying to wrap his arm around you as you walked down the hall. Every time, you brushed him off. However, Jeongin's irritability was off the charts since he decided that today was the day to dress in a particularly irritating fashion. He had completely disregarded his school uniform altogether. Why did this of all things make you mad, exactly? Because he looked fucking amazing.

Wrinkled white shirt. Loose tie. And sweatpants. Not just any sweatpants, but grey sweatpants. God, it was like he was trying to annoy you. How could he look so good while wearing something so informal? He was borderline infuriating in his presence alone, now you had to cope with how his sweatpants left little to the imagination. Though you wished that someone would put a stop to this reign of terror, you knew that the school administration had completely given up trying to control him at this point. This institution had become Jeongin's domain and you were intended to suffer through it as well as your rage-based attraction to him. Nevertheless, you pushed those feelings below your impermeable layer of school-related anxiety and ignored them. You found this trick especially useful to you when he was your lab partner in chemistry last year. It is an especially useful tool now considering you were seated across from him.

While you tried to keep your eyes focused on the board in front of you and not on the hunk of the man to your left, the task immediately became easier once your teacher announced the first big project of the semester.

"This project will weigh at around 20% of your grade and will replace this module's exam." Sighs of relief passed through the class in waves, the whole class happy to know that they just have to make a powerpoint rather than study all night for a written test that they would likely fail. Peace, however, was momentary.

"However,” your teacher continued, “since this project is a large amount of work, it will be done in groups of two." You gave a quick smile to your friend and desk partner to your right, who smiled back.

"The groups, however, have been randomly assigned." Your faces both dropped. Actually, everyone stopped smiling. Then, waves of groans moved through the class.

"Stop complaining," the teacher sighed, rubbing her eyes. "To create a conducive learning environment that limits your amount of fun, I randomly assigned each of you to someone in the class who you likely do not talk to. I will post the partners at the end of class and I suggest that you start working on the project ASAP and throughout the weekend because it's due in a week." Another wave of groans rolled through the class and was immediately followed by complaints, questions, exasperated sighs, and a particularly harsh exhale from you. You hated assigned group projects. Due to your reputation, you were usually expected to carry the project along with whoever you were assigned. You never really minded the work as long as you got to choose your partner. Essentially, if the partner was your friend, you would happily and easily do all the work. But now that the teacher has “randomly selected” your partners (she surely just put them through a random assigning program), you felt your blood boil. Jeongin, however, was surely silently rejoicing at the announcement of a group-based project: it meant that he could coast by like he normally did in group projects.

The rest of the class drudged on with great exhaustion. Everyone loathed the prospect of seeing who they were paired up with at the end of it. The worst thing was that it was the Friday of a long weekend. School was meant to be the last thing on anyone's mind until Tuesday came around. You all should have been blessed with the freedom of three days off and whatever it entailed: drinking, parties, staying out late, suspicious excuses given to your guardians, small friend groups loitering at the park at night, getting high then going to the 7/11, and hangovers that you thought were terrible but would seem like small headaches when you're 22 and trying to keep up with college-level drinking. This was what the weekend was for. However, this teacher obviously loved to ruin everyone's time and force them to study and work on this project.

With the final bell, the teacher headed out first followed by a mass of same-dressed students who were eager to see the possible stranger that they would be paired with. Jeongin left first, keen to leave but also being able to leave easily as he had brought nothing to class. After a few minutes, you and your friend followed behind the crowd, watching the mass of students as they shoved to look at the list of partners on the corkboard. Some sulked away, others jeered as they had been blessed with the partnership of a friend. Jeongin was one of the first to walk away, smiling smugly and playfully shoving his friend as they sat idly by, waiting for their partners to come to them.

After a few minutes of struggle, you and your friend finally made your way to the list.

"Who'd you get?" You ask as she studies the list first.

"That kid that sits behind us," she says.

"Oh, that's good! His name is Seungmin, he’s sweet."

"Yeah, but..." her voice trailed off.

"But... what?" You inquired, her voice making you uneasy.

"You're gonna... your partner... just, see for yourself." She steps out of the way as your finger traces down the list to find your name.

And there it is. Next to your partners. And, frankly, you can do nothing but slowly turn and look at Jeongin leaning against the lockers behind you.

He gives you a small smile and raises his eyebrows.

"We'll meet at 5 in the library! I'll see you then!" He states with a twisted grin. With those few words said, he and his friend saunter off, leaving you dumbstruck with your friend praying for your well-being beside you.

“Y/n,” she asked with a soft touch to your arm, “are you okay?” You gave a stiff nod as you watched Jeongin walk away.

God. Those fucking grey sweatpants look so good on him.

---

"You're lucky that you know the librarian well enough that we can be left alone here," Jeongin teased, looking up at the high ceilings and clearly impressed by them. His arms hung low as he carried the stack of books he had slowly accumulated in his arms. Well, you place them in his arms, he just took them because he didn’t really know what to look for or how to study or what this class was even about.

You guessed by his expression (and from your past four years of being his victim) that Jeonging had probably never even set foot in the library. In fact, he had little to no intention of doing so for his whole high school career. Yet, thanks to you, here he was.

"I don't 'know the librarian,'" you groaned. "I volunteer here. Some of us need extracurriculars on our university applications. I just have the privilege of going here enough that I get an extra key to help lock up." You placed the book you were carrying on the wooden table and Jeonin copied your action, dropping the stack of texts with a sigh.

“In other words,” Jeongin taunted, “you know the librarian well enough to come here after hours”. You shot him a look before turning to the mess of textbooks and binders in front of you.

"We wouldn't be alone after-hours if we had just started immediately after class," you stated angrily as you sorted the books into piles for you and him. "But somebody had to go smoke with his friends outside, so now we've had to come after hours to study."

"Just know that it was a really good smoke break," Jeongin replied with glee as you divided up his and your reading materials, placing the books with a hidden rage that only came from years of bullying or sexual frustration. Or, in your case, a horrid cocktail of both. After you were done, you took a seat on one side of the table and gestured for him to sit opposite you. He got the hint and sat, immediately flipping through his books and shuffling them around, not even trying to look busy.

"All I know is that we're here, alone, with no one else around and that I could trash this place if I wanted,” he continued with an air of cockiness you wanted to destroy.

At this point, you were really starting to regret everything that has ever happened to you. Sure, having a key to the school's immense library was a bonus of being a diligent student: you knew you could always escape here and it was entrusted in your care. Many times you had retreated to this place in the hopes of peace and quiet from the troubles of school. It was your sanctuary.

Now, an early library closing, a nicotine addiction, and a late study session had forced you to bring him here.

"I know you won't do that,” you shot back, “and I also know that I could just lock you in here if I wanted for the whole weekend.” Your response made his eyes go wide with what seemed to be shock and worry. However, when a smile broke out on his face, you knew that he thought your threats were empty.

"You're fun!" He cheered.

"I will lock you in here, Jeongin." You restated in a serious tone which he didn't seem to take as seriously. "Now,” you continued, “get started on studying. We have a lot to do and I have no intention of doing it alone. You need to look through the blue book. Read sections 2 to 4 and take notes on anything related to the assignment. Check the study questions, too: there could be info in the answers that could help us out."

"I hate that you're making me work," he complained in an obnoxious tone that could only be embodied by a teenage boy who had never been put in his place. "Normally I do nothing and the person just lugs me along."

"Well, I'm tired of carrying group projects, so you have to carry your own weight," you sighed. "Now. Start studying."

Jeongin gave you an eye roll before quietly retreating to his book. The silence quickly engulfed the library and you flipped through your book, looking at where to begin and fearing how much you had to tackle.

Although this was a less-than-ideal situation, it did have its perks. To be honest, you never knew Jeongin could be quiet. It was nice to take quick glances at him while he studied, his face contorted as he analyzed the text and focused on his work. Just these few moments of silence seemed to give you hope. Maybe you could make the best of a bad situation. Maybe you could use this time to make Jeongin shut up for a few seconds and let you study his handsome face before being rudely disrupted by whatever dribble he decided to shoot out. Maybe this partnering was a blessing in disguise.

Your hopes were ruined as the silence was broken.

"God!" Jeongin groaned, leaning far back in his chair. "This is so borringgggggg!" Your annoyance immediately returned to your body. He was hot, but god did he like to pester you.

"Please, Jeongin, read the passages, I beg of you," you groaned as you looked through the books to find out the sections you were meant to study.

"Ughhhh..." he sighed. Suddenly, he loudly arose, chair screeching back as he picked up his books.

"What are you doing?" You asked, annoyed and barely looking up from the books you were still sorting through.

"I'm moving next to you," he responded as he waddled towards you, moving like a child who was purposefully aggravating a parent just for the fun of it.

"Please, God, tell me why," you groaned.

"Because I'm lost!" He sighed, "I'm gonna sit by you because I hate being this far away and this lost at the same time. You have to help me Y/N if you're gonna make me carry my weight on this project."

As he slid himself and his books beside you, you prayed to every God you knew of—Jesus, Demeter, Allah, YHWH—that you would be vaporized then and there.

There was no escaping this irritation. Normally, you'd parry any advancements Jeongin made. Oftentimes, you would even take a different path home or avoid certain wings of the school altogether just to get away from him. To be clear, Jeongin didn’t actually frighten you. You weren't scared of Jeongin, you were just horribly, dreadfully annoyed with him.

However, today was not a normal situation. There was no avoiding him: you were stuck with this fucking idiot on a group project with no hope of deflecting his pokes or prods.

"Oh, wait, before you start reading you should fix your glasses. They’re falling." He mumbles, "lemme… lemme just..." he then placed his pointer fingers on the center of your lens and pushed them up, readjusting the frames but dirtying your eyesight in the process. You shot him an angry look as he giggled, hating the smudge on the glass.

"If you must know," you seethed as you wiped your glasses off and placed them beside you, "I never wear them to read and study—two activities I still hope to do, despite your presence."

"Ah!" Jeongin dramatically fell back on his chair and grasped his heart as if he had just been shot straight through it. "Words hurt, y/n! I can't believe you would say such things to me! How dare you suggest I distract you!" He cried with a great fabricated sentiment.

Again, you rolled your eyes at his giggles and flirtatious fucking smile that made him look so damn dreamy that it made you want to punch a wall.

"Jeongin, please let me get back to studying."

"Call me 'Innie,'" he responded coolly.

You let a beat pass as you tried to process what he just said.

"...What?!" You hissed at him. That certainly got your attention.

"Call... me... 'Innie.'" His smile widened and he leaned forward, his face inches from yours and moving closer as he enunciated each syllable with mischief.

Part of you wanted to push him away. You wanted to leave the library, march straight home, and write a strongly worded email to your teacher telling her that, despite her requirements, you desperately wanted to complete the assignment by yourself.

The other part of yourself, however...

Shamefully, that part wanted him to lean in closer. It enjoyed his playful smile and tone, and thought about how wonderful it was that you two were together, alone, uninterrupted. It thought about all you could do behind closed doors. It thought about things that made you anxious and confused and, frankly, made you want to turn your brain off.

So, you agreed with the former part.

"Jeongin," you stressed, leaning back. "Please go back to studying. I don't have time to play your silly name games." His exaggerated groan to your response almost made you crack a smile. Almost.

"Come onnnnnn, Y/n!" He wailed, voice echoing throughout the archives. "You don't even have to say it in public! Please! Only once!" Suddenly, he leaned in again and his face was now mere centimetres from yours. His voice was hushed and his eyes had a strange look in them, something that was serious and tempting. It seemed like he was trying to be playfully urgent in his words, but his voice made each syllable come across as languid, as if he were edging you on, almost daring you to obey him.

"Just say it to me. Now, in private,” he pleaded.

Uh oh. That part of your brain that you tried to ignore was coming at you with a vengeance. You hardly noticed that your cheeks were starting to burn. Gathering all control, you tried to put an end to this foolishness.

"We won't ever be alone together after next week,” you replied calmly.

"What... what makes you say that?" He asked with a discouraged curiosity.

"Well... I can't imagine you'd want to hang out after this... after all..." you trailed off.

"After all...? What?" He continued, "After all 'I'm the smartest person in the district and intend to graduate top of the class so I don’t have time to hang out and do scumbag shit with my bestie Innie?"

Okay. Maybe Jeongin actually could humour you. After all, that impression is spot on. The blush on your cheeks had cooled now, but you had not noticed: your mind was too busy malfunctioning over the fact that you were smiling at something Yang Jeongin said to you. Jeongin had genuinely brought a smile to your face, and he seemed to notice, too.

"Woah! There's your smile!" Jeongin jeered, "I've been trying to get you to smile for like three or four years! 'Bout time!"

And just like that, your smile had disappeared without a trace. Your facial muscles even relaxed immediately, feeling no lingering strain from the act. How dare a fucking man tell you to smile, and to try and say that he has been wanting you to do so for four fucking years after bullying you for those same four goddamn years?! You felt like your chest would explode.

"What?! Where did it go?!" Jeongin whined, defeated and pouty because of it. "Pleeasseeeeeee smile again, y/n! You look so adorable when you do! I mean, you always do, but your smile! And I know you need your glasses and you look so cute with them, but I can finally see your whole face without them! Come oonnnnnnnnnn! Smileeeeeeee!!!"

Woah. Okay. Those words had sent that stupid, gullible, optimistic part of your brain into a frenzy. However, you clenched your jaw and kept a steady breath. You couldn’t let yourself get carried away as you knew it was all just a game to him. Everything was a game to him.

If Jeongin was telling the truth and that he thought you were “cute” or “always looked adorable”, you would have truly allowed yourself to believe his words. You would have beamed knowing that he thought it was beautiful if you did or didn’t smile, unable to hold back a response to his affection. If he was telling the truth, you were even ready to blush, beg, plead, flirt—whatever it took to keep him talking about how pretty you looked.

Yet, you are a pessimist, through and through. Before your imagination could run off with the idea that Jeongin’s words were honest and genuine, your heart twined knowing that whatever he was saying was likely far from the truth. What Jeongin said was likely rooted in some foolish, mean-spirited, and twisted way of teasing you. He always did something like this after annoying you: poke the bear then tell it how lovely it looks before it has the chance to chase him down. It was just like those boys in junior high who would yell across the class claiming that “his friend liked you" while the very same friend made disgusted faces. The boys would laugh then, as if the very idea of loving you was a joke. The girls, however, would share a solemn silence, a solidarity only experienced by the victims of female adolescence and the macabre. A

After all these experiences, you knew two things: boys were assholes and they were bullies. And Jeongin was part of them.

So, at this moment, you felt dizzy from the sheer humiliation of his words and your bubbling hatred. You couldn’t believe that Jeongin had the audacity to tease you like this, to say you were pretty when you knew that he had nothing positive to say about you. Saying such sweet things to you with nothing but ill intent behind them made you want to tackle him. Fuck his good looks or his conceited yet insanely attractive attitude.

So, instead of letting yourself be hopeful and toy with the idea that he may actually be saying a nice thing, you did what you did every time: move past it and try to suppress your anger.

Clearing your throat, you returned to your book.

"Affection and coquetry won't work on me, Jeongin," you stated, eyes burning into the pages to try and ward off the pain in your stomach from his words.

"Oh, really?"

God. When will he learn to give up?! He leaned playfully on his hand and swiftly placed his elbow on the table, simultaneously and seamlessly nudging your book out of the way with a coy smile. The act made you huff through your nostrils and dignify his presence with a glare. He didn’t even register the pain his words had caused you.

"They won't," you respond emotionlessly. All your emotions, however, became quite clear as you pushed your book back to its rightful place and shoved his elbow out of the way in the process, making him hiss from the pain. "And I doubt anything you do to me would count as flirtation."

Jeongin's sour face from the ache in his arm quickly changed to a wide-eyed, agape look. Oh no. The face of mischievous curiosity.

"I take that as a challenge!" He boomed.

"Oh, God, please smite me now," you mumbled, anxiety and rage rising.

"I just gotta figure out what you like about me and just really capitalize on it," he pondered aloud.

Well. That statement made you scoff.

"I like nothing about you," you dryly stated.

“Oh, come on!” He responds, hoping your words were of off-beat humour rather than born from frankness. Your annoyance was boiling over, unable to contain it.

“No, it’s true,” you stated with malice. “You tease me about my looks and try to make me feel pretty just to tear me down. It’s honestly sickening and, frankly, after four years, it’s kind of unoriginal, Jeongin.”

“Y/n, what?”

There was no humour in your voice in the next words you spoke, no inkling that what you said could be taken lightly. You had let yourself speak freely and felt the burn of horrid words as they dripped from your tongue.

“In fact, I would say I’d rather hate you. Extremely so.”

Silence engulfed the room. Not even the squeak of the chair as Jeongin shifted could be heard. You glanced up at the boy beside you. Jeongin was still and silent: two things he never was.

"...What?" you asked, your words met with no response but the cold echoes of the library.

“Y/n, how could you say that?” His voice almost cracked as he asked the question. You glanced up at him and caught his eyes. They were glassy, empty.

Oh no.

Oh no... that dreadful empathy inside of you made your heart ache and your stomach churn. How could you feel so horrible after saying one mean thing when he's been nothing but disrespectful to you for four years?!

"I, umm... I—I mean" you tried to defend yourself without seeming like an asshole, which was becoming increasingly difficult as your mind raced to fill the space. However, you realized you had nothing positive to say at all. “Ah, fuck it,” you whispered under your breath. “Jeongin, be serious. Why would I like anything about you when you are nothing but mean to me?"

"Mean to you?!" He spat back, breaking from his hurt trance and turning to anger, simultaneously exacerbating your rage. "When have I ever—!"

"You've been mean since the moment we met!” You shot back, “"You taunt me, tease me, and even follow me when we run into each other. It is hard enough dealing with academic stress, then I'm paired with the bully that makes my life a living hell and—"

"Bully?" He repeated with some distaste in his mouth and a saddened look on his face. "Is that what I am to you!?"

"What else would I call someone who's followed me every day for four years and has done nothing but jeer at me with his friends?! It is hard enough wanting to please everyone and excelling at school despite what I tell myself. But then I get some guy harassing me every day like it's his fucking day job. What else would I call him if not a 'bully'?! What, Jeongin, what?!"

The library walls repelled your voices again and let its old age absorb the hateful things you spat at each other. Slowly, the sound waves dissipated and silence consumed the wooden room. As the quiet settled, Jeongin let a beat pass, nothing to be said as he, too, let your words sink in.

"I... I just wanted..." His voice was hard, stern at first. Then, he sighed, cleared his throat and darted his eyes away, tone changing to a nervous and humble one. "I just… I'm sorry, y/n. Please know that, okay? I never meant for it to be like that or to go this far or even in this direction. Please know that."

The library had never seemed so unsettling to you until this moment.

Your mind dissected his words, prodding them and pulling them apart and trying to find if he was being malicious. Strangely enough, his words seemed... genuine.

Great. This meant two things: 1) that he was genuinely sorry after bullying you for four years, and 2) that, if you wanted to be the bigger person, you had to accept it. Worst of all, your brain came up with the perfect way to accept his apology and also humble yourself, and you really hated how perfect it was and how humiliating it would be. Sometimes, your really fucking hated how your brain worked.

"Innie,” you said softly, “Thank you.”

Jeongin's eyes went wide, so wide you swore they would pop out. The gasp that followed made you believe that he would consume all the air in the room.

"Say—say it again!" He stammered out excitedly.

"No," you replied as you cracked a small smile. "Take it as a peace offering. I, the person who spoke so ill of you, am extending an olive branch to you, the man who has wronged me."

"I understand so little of that metaphor but just know that I'm happy," he smiled. You rolled your eyes at his idiocy and smiled.

However, before you could conclude the discussion and finally, finally, finally, return to your book, Jeongin raised his hand in a half heart.

Hand. Jeongin's hand.

"What... what are you doing?" You mumbled out, studying his digits.

Pretty, big hand.

Fuck. Not these thoughts. Not now.

"C'mon, y/n! I'm making a heart for you to finish! As a peace offering or a tree branch or whatever you want to call it! Like this, yeah?" He demonstrated by making the shape with both hands, making a complete heart and showing it to you with a boyish grin.

Big, soft, veiny hands.

"Uh, y-yeah, Jeongin," your hand was shaking as you raised it to his own. Fuck, they were even bigger in comparison to yours.

Hands. Hold. Touch. Big and veiny and... big...God, what well is big?

That fucking part of your mind needs to shut the fuck up before you lobotomize yourself with a #2 pencil. Luckily Jeongin’s giggles as your hands briefly met to form a heart between the two of you snapped you away from such thoughts.

"Guess we're friends now, huh?" You muttered, trying to distract your perverted inner monologue.

"Aw, y/n!!!" He boyishly cheered. His impish smile was contrasted by his low chuckle. However, your own joy was challenged when Jeongin quickly interlaced your fingers in his.

Oh no.

My tiny hand in his.

"Wait, your hands are so small!"

So big... so big compared to me... so soft, so warm...

"Y-yeah, I've heard that before."

"They’re so adorable! My hands look so big compared to yours, yeah?" His other hand lightly traced your wrist before grabbing it and forcing you to spread your fingers to compare hand sizes.

So, so big. Could barely wrap my hand around him. Could barely wrap my hand around his—

“Wow you’re right,” you responded nervously.

You started to feel that strange feeling, the one you only experienced in solitude in the dead of night, not sitting across from a man who may or may not be your bully anymore and is using you like a plaything. God, why did that thought make these feelings even stronger? You crossed your legs and hoped to squash the voice in your head.

"Like woah! I knew my hands were big but this is crazy!"

Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it—

"Do you have anything else that’s big that I should know about?"

...oh fuck.

This library has gone through too many auditory extremes today. You know that this has got to be the loudest goddamn silence you have ever or will ever experience in your life. Both of your eyes were wide, your stare locked in with his as you sat engulfed in shock.

For the first time today, you felt just how hot your face was.

It felt like an eternity was passing within these seconds of horrifying, dreadful awkwardness. You prayed that once you would finally blink that he just be gone. Sadly, he still sat there, face unchanging and unforgiving.

His hands still held your own.

Breaking the silence, he let out the driest of coughs.

"Well, it's—"

"I-I'm sorry," you stuttered out. "I didn't mean to—"

"It's—It's no worries, truly," he stammered over. The silence came again, but less horrendous this time. Or maybe it was worse, you couldn't decide. All you noticed was the fact that his hand still hadn't left yours.

Jeongin decided to speak again, quieter this time. His eyes were wide, but glancing around frantically, trying to search for the right words. A harsh blush was forming down his ears and hard turned his honeyed skin into a scarlet red. You were strangely comforted knowing that he was just as mortified as you.

"I-It's wrong you know." He hesitated to continue. You, however, were all ears.

"Jeongin," you said slowly, "whatever do you mean?" He sighed, embarrassment consuming him.

"My friends looked it up and... apparently nose length is a more accurate measure.... but... you know..." Though you were fascinated to learn about this new little tidbit of info and that Jeongin actually knew something, you were way too focused on what he wanted to say.

"But what?" you asked in a small voice. His palm was sweating against yours as heat radiated from him.

"Well, just that.. you know... it's not like a rule. There are exceptions. It's just like a theory, yeah?" You nodded, glad to understand what he meant by that. Yet, you swore, that as he finally dropped his hand, exposing your skin to the bitter air of the dusty library, Jeongin uttered a brief "I should know." Though you wanted to poke and prod, you opted to just nod and turned with him towards the table, staring at the stack of unread books.

“Anyways…” you said, breaking the silence, “let’s get started.” Still, you couldn't help but sneak quick looks at Jeongin's face, trying to decide whether or not his nose was longer or shorter than average.

This had to be your least productive and positively worst study session ever.

"What section do I have to read again?" Jeongin asked.

Oh, thank God he said that. You much preferred harassing him about not paying attention than whatever the hell you just experienced.

"I told you," you sighed, flipping open his book and pointing at the contents. "These sections! 2 to 4! Please! Start!"

"But what if I get borreedddddd?" Jeongin groaned. There he was! There’s the annoying Jeongin you know. "I can barely see what you pointed at anyways! Can’t you just help me out?"

"Ohmygod," you muttered, tired but willing to do anything if it meant he shut up and study. "If I were to help you for a bit, do you swear to properly study and leave me alone after?"

"Pinky promise!" He smiled gleefully and stuck out his extended, large pinky finger. After staring blankly at the digit, you linked your smaller pinky around his and slung your head in defeat.

"Okay," you muttered. "Let's begin."

For a bit, this plan worked perfectly. After only 20 minutes, you read through section 2 together and helped point out the more important parts of the text. The 20 minutes were difficult, however. Being this close to him, being able to smell his cologne—which was nice and smelled expensive, contrasting his scruffiness—and brushed shoulders with him was almost too much. Wow. You really were touched starved. Nevertheless, your own lameness was virtually undetectable to you. You were more focused on how well Jeongin retained the information and how neat his words were. You guessed that his utter stupidity was most likely due to his inability to focus, which was still a struggle even as you helped him. Nevertheless, as you began section 3 and were about to return to your own work, you knew that he had already come a long—

"HOW LONG HAVE WE BEEN DOING THIS?" Jeongin cried.

Ah. There he is.

"Just a little more, Jeongin, okay? Please, just be bearable. I have my own work to do," you whined, stomping your feet from exhaustion. Even when he was trying to be polite, he still knew how to get on every one of your nerves.

"Can you please just keep helping me? Just this section and then I swear you can get back to your work?" He pouted. Was... was giving you puppy dog eyes?

You sighed. Again, defeated.

"Yeah, sure," you replied, "let's start here—"

"Y/n?" He interrupted. You rolled your eyes.

"Yes?" He let your snark reply hang before smirking.

"Come closer," he nudged playfully with a smile you would almost consider flirtatious if you hadn't been constantly reminded about his disobedient behaviour for the past hour.

"Why?" You asked genuinely.

"You're squinting! You said don't read with your glasses on but it's straining your eyes! Just..." he thought for a moment, glancing around. "Ugh, whatever! Here—"

Unexpectedly, his hands found their way around your body, slinking under your legs and around your back, sliding under your thighs and brushing the exposed skin.

"Jeongin! I can just put my glasses on—" you blabbered out nervously as he continued to lift you.

"Just come here, fuck!" He shot back, finally raising you from your chair and sliding you onto his lap.

"Jeongin!" You yelped.

Normally, anytime someone picked you up made you want to scream. This, however, this made you want to die.

As if by some magical swiftness, you had now found yourself sitting on Jeongin. Well, not on him. Just between his legs. His long legs were spread out, your thick thighs barely fitting onto the chair as he caged you. And he hadn't remembered to tuck your skirt in when you sat down, so now it splayed open. It had ridden up, exposing everything but your white cotton panties, and was surely flipped onto Jeongin's pants at the back. You just prayed he couldn't see anything. However, he probably couldn't considering how close he was. Worst of all, he kept you close by resting his hands on your hips, making sure you sat still. The pads of his long fingers held your tummy softly, dipping into the fat as his thumbs rubbed slowly up your lower back.

You swore you had never felt so warm in your life. As you broke out in a sweat, you feared that his wolfishly big hands were paired with a keen sense of smell.

"There!" He giggled, resting his chin on your shoulder and leaning his head against yours, studying the book with intentness that starkly contrasted the intimacy of how he held you. "Now you can see well!"

You opened and closed your mouth a few times trying to find something to say. Though his completely nonchalant demeanour was to be expected, you were still shocked but the literal position you were in. Not to mention the way his thumbs slowly drew circles on you while his hands shifted to hold your stomach. Your stomach for godsakes. How does he know exactly where to hold you to make you feel so secure and so goddamn embarrassed at the same time?! You pressed your thighs tightly together, trying to smother the weird feeling building between them that you tried so desperately to avoid. While you squished them your legs, your thighs were simultaneously crushed on either side by Jeongin's own, which were incredibly muscular: a feature you had never noticed until you were stuck between them.

"How..." you asked, "How did you do that? Aren't I heavy?"

"Am I complaining?" He asked back, a smirk in his voice. He wrapped his arms around your waist now, tugging you closer and pressing his chest fully into your back. "If you were ‘too heavy’, you wouldn't be sitting here right now, hm?”

"I-I suppose..." You start, not knowing what to say next.

"Now," he sighed with an air of exaggerated contentment, "if you want to finish this project sOooOOoo bad, then help me study!" God, how could he have you in the palm of his hand— literally— and still manage to pester you?!

"O-okay," you stuttered unsurely. "Well, let's start here and—"

"Mhm," Jeongin hummed, still massaging your fupa lightly and pressing his chest firmly against your back. You tried to burn a hole into the bookk—a feeble attempt at trying to distract yourself.

"A-as you can see," you coughed, "this section is more about analyzing the um..."—one of his hands started to rub lower—"the events t-talked about in the previous section a-and"—the other starts moving up, ghosting over your chest and playing with the top button of your shirt, leaving your tie untouched despite how you desperately wanted to loosen it—"t-trying to c-contextualize the previous section and… p-provide some background and… umm…."

"Gosh, y/n," Jeongin chuckled as his fingers rubbed the column of buttons, "I thought you were such a good student, but you seem so distracted. It's funny really."

Maybe he’s just distracted, you tell yourself, trying to reason what in the hell was going on. After all, he can barely sit still in class and often toyed with loose hems or drew on the margins of his papers. Therefore, it was perfectly reasonable to assume that he was just doing the same now: toying with your uniform as a means of distraction. He always played with you anyways, so it was safe to assume that it was some attention deficit that caused him to trifle with you. That's all it was. Or, at least, you prayed that would be the truth. As his hand fiddled with your skirt’s hemline and the other began loosening your tie, you were just hoping that this was all some absent-minded game for him. If that were the truth, then hopefully this dreadful pressure from between your thighs would disappear. It was building with every second and your panties were now so tight, so straggling, and so wet, latching onto your folds and aiding in your growing shyness.

"J-Jeongin," you began, "c-can you—"

"Innie, please, y/n," he teased in a low voice against your ear. "To you, it's Innie." Though you wanted to scream at him for uttering that petname again, you decided to push your pride aside. You needed him to stop, and you needed to utilize every tool in your arsenal to do so.

"I-innie," you stuttered out, shivering from the warmth that lingered on your ear from his breathy voice. "Can you please stop... you know... t-touching me?"

Again, Jeongin laughed. But, this time, it was drier, with less playfulness behind it and less mercy.

"Aw, y/n," he whispered into your ear, causing you to squirm a little, "I thought we were just having fun. Are you really getting all worked up over a few little touches? I thought you would like it more, you know, considering it's my big hands doing it." His last words were strongly enunciated by his hand tugging on your tie to gain access to your collar buttons. He started to play with them as you huffed, undoing them teasingly.

You were fuming at his words, knowing that: 1) he was just doing this because—at his core—Jeongin was just a fucking asshole, and 2) he was, sadly, correct. Still, you were determined to not let him know that he was right. Knowing him in the way you do, you couldn't let him take this victory

"I-is that really what this is about? Are you really hanging on to that! I had a lapse of judgment f-for one second and—" another button was undone and he began working on the next. After this next button, your bra chest would be exposed. It was only covered by an ill-fitting bra and you silently cursed your frugal self for not investing in better undergarments. Still, you continued. You had to. "I-I just fucking hate that you'd bring it up again! You just love to make fun of me d-don't you?! God, Jeongin, it is so typical of you to t-tease me like this and—Ah!"

The sound of clattering buttons across mahogany and the sudden exposure to air frightened you. Jeongin, however, didn't seem to mind.

"I told you," he stated in a voice you had never heard him use before. "It's 'Innie'. Yes?"

Clearly, he had gotten sick and tired of you talking. He just wanted you to finally be quiet, much like how you wanted him to do the same. To accomplish this, his hands found the opening of your shirt and ripped the fabric open, scattering the last of your buttons, ruffling your shirt, and exposing your chest to him. In exposing you, Jeongin gained the upper hand. It was obvious that all pride, all power you had disappeared. However, his action had also done something else: the sensation you tried so desperately to conceal was making you hopelessly needy. You unconsciously began to twist your hips, rubbing your thighs together in hopes of eliminating the feeling.

The book in front of you was long forgotten.

"Yes..." you replied back in a small voice. "Yes, Innie. S-sorry." You could almost feel Jeongin smile behind you, but, if you truly could, you didn't notice due to his hands returning to their place on your collarbone and stomach. His fingers now languidly traced your clavicle while the other massaged your tummy, fingertips slowly digging into your skirt and pulling out the parts of your shirt that were still tucked in.

"What a good baby," he chuckled, paying no mind to the nickname, though it made you redder than blood. "So fucking horny and no way to ask it. Such a fucking pervert. I bet you wanted this, didn’t you? You're even rutting back into me. Trying to get me worked up, hm?"

"No," you gasped with deep embarrassment, "never!"

"Tut tut, y/n," he tsked. "I know you're up to something."

"If anyone is up to something, it's you!" You protested. Your exclamations only made Jeongin laugh.

"Now, now," he giggled, "you wouldn't want anyone—say, a janitor or a lingering teacher—to hear us and come in? Wouldn't it be bad to see their star pupil being fondled by the school delinquent? Wouldn’t it be bad for them to notice that you liked it?"

Fuck. He knew how to shut you up. You turned your head to catch his gaze, shame and that peculiar feeling spreading all over your body into a delightful mix that only exacerbated your guilt. He knew he had you.

"That's what I thought," he laughed. "Now—"

Quickly, his hands moved toward your chest, dragged your bra down, and began to pinch your nipples, massaging your breasts and causing you to moan. Your hips increased their shallow rolls in an attempt to alleviate the pain. As you did, you felt what you could only suspect to be Jeongin's growing erection pressing into your ass. He definitely hiked up your skirt sometime before and was enjoying the sight of his clothed cock rubbing against your panty-clad behind.

"Innie! W-what are you—?"

"Oh, baby," he laughed and he rolled your buds between his fingers, making you whimper, "You say I'm distracting you from studying, but now your acting like such a little slut from only a few touches. You're so sensitive. I swear, you could be a virgin, hm?"

You dared not respond, only offering him a shy look as he continued to rub your chest.

"Oh," he giggled, "oh, of course you are. My sweet little goody-two-shoes hasn't had anyone touch her pussy yet, hm? My little virgin baby, yeah?"

"P-pussy?" you repeated, knowing that the word was dirty from the way it left a delictable taste in your mouth.

Jeongin mused, "My my, you are inexperienced." He let out a laugh that brought tears to your eyes, though it wouldn't be the first time he had made you cry. You were so frustrated and felt so strange and your panties were so wet and surely see-through and fuck! While your mind raged. Jeongin let one of his hands slip down your body and down your stomach, moving his other hand to grope the tit it had abandoned.

"Your pussy," Jeongin continued, ignoring your squirms and internal war, "is this right here."

Everything clicked as his fingers rubbed the damp white cotton into your pussy, rubbing up and down your folds with his middle and ring finger, slowly stopping to rub your clit and make your head spin. You glanced down, noticing how large his digits were and wondered how much he could stuff inside of you.

"Such an innocent fuck toy, never been used," he rambled, tongue licking the conch of your ear and making you whimper.

"J-Jeongin—I mean, Innie," you corrected. You could tell he was pleased by the way he hummed into your ears while he nibbled on the lobe, an action that should not make you want to moan as much as it should. "P-please stop touching me, it isn't appropriate.”

"But I thought I was helping you study, y/n," he pouted in a pouty tone, fingers never ceasing their motions. "Isn't this keeping me distracted? Isn't this helping you study? I need something to fiddle with, and you’re the perfect fucking stress toy for me." A particularly harsh rub into your panties and a tight grasp on your chest made you yelp. "Aren't you liking this, y/n? Liking me touching your soaking cunt? Fuck, you even soaked through your panties, how pathetic. " He spoke humorously through gritted teeth. He returned to slowly groping you, kissing down your neck loudly and rubbing his erection into your backside. You felt like you were going to explode.

"You are, aren’t you?" he panted as he rocked back and forth into you, drooling down your neck. "I thought you were a better student than this. I thought you were such a good girl who was put off by teasing. What did you call me again? A bully?" He said the word with joking vehemence; teasingly but backed by a viciousness that made you crumble. "Would a bully do nothing but defend you for four years? Would a bully beat up any fucking nerd who insulted your intelligence? Would a bully praise you and call you pretty only to be given the cold shoulder just ‘cause you didn’t believe it? Fuck, I wonder what the school board would think if they saw you like this, being fondled by a fucking bully." His words turned to mush in your head, your brain frenzying at his confession and his touches.

"Jeongin, please, I didn’t know! P-please, I just thought you didn’t l-like me, Jeongin. I thought you were m-mean and—ah!"

Your pleas were cut short as Jeongin stood up and shoved you forward, bending you over the table as his chair loudly scraped. He ripped—literally, ripped off your shirt at the seams, the sound filling the room along with your cries, with your bra being pulled off next. You were left in nothing but your shirt and tie: Jeongin wanted you to be at least a little dressed up for him when he claimed you. He grabbed your hair by the root and pulled your head up, making you release a sound that was a mixture of a cry and moan. The pain was unbearable, but the suffering mostly came from the absence of Jeongin's hands on you. At this point, you had realized that this feeling was some disgusting, perverted form of horniness directed at a man you hated. It made you feel dirty and desperate. But, most importantly, it made you feel in dire need of relief.

"I told you, y/n," Jeongin growled in that angry voice which didn't suit your impression of him, "that isn't my name." He released your hair and let your head fall to the table.

"I'm—I'm sorry," you begged as he moved the discarded books out from under you and threw them off the table. "P-please don't do anything mean!"

Funny. It was really funny to see you beg for him. It made him chuckle dryly before he hung himself over your back, once again pressing his chest into you—which you could feel was bare, meaning he must’ve removed it in the midst of things, leaving him in only his sweats.

"Oh, my innocent little baby," Jeongin panted into your ear, "you will be sorry." Jeongin's playful and perverted voice was matched by his hands slowly tugging down your panties, an action that caused you to chant a mantra of "no's" as your pussy was exposed to the cold air. Eventually, he had gotten impatient and tore the fabric up, an act that made tears fall from your eyes.

"Aw, don't worry, y/n," Jeongin humoured after seeing your lip tremble when he returned on top of you, caging you in and rubbing his clothed cock into your exposed cunt. "I'll take such good care of you after you learn a little lesson, yeah? Don't you just love to learn knew things, you fucking inexperienced little know-it-all?" You squirmed under him, begging for more and praying that he would give it to you. Yet, it seemed that patience offered itself to Jeongin when it pleased, and now he seemed to have all the time in the world.

Slowly, he rose his body from yours and rested his hands on your ass, rubbing the flimsy skirt and toying with your fat.

"Such a dumb fucking little virgin," he groaned as he let your pussy dampen the front of his sweats, pressing his throbbing dick into your needy cunt and making you whine. "Needs to learn a lesson."

Swiftly, his hand pulled away and slapped your ass.

"Innie!" You cried from the feeling, tears continuing to fall as his hand reached up and spanked you again, filling the library with lewd sounds to accompany your moans and his grunts.

"Say my fucking name again," he whispered with venom as he continued to spank you, enjoying how your ass reddened with each hit.

"Innie, Innie! Please stop!" You sobbed, making him laugh.

"Just—a few—more," he stated, marking every few words with a repeated spank. His other hand toyed with your ass, enjoying the softness and how your untouched flesh contrasted the growing blush on the other cheek.

"Y-yes—fuck! Yes, Innie!" You whimpered.

"God, such a fast learner," he grunted, continuing. "Aren't I helping you study, now? What if I helped you study every day, yeah? Licked your little cunt every time you got an answer right and then spanked you when you get one wrong? Maybe that'll help with your studying. Do you want a study buddy, y/n? Hm? Do you?"

"Yes, fuck I do!" You sniffled in defeat. "Only Innie, only Innie can teach me. Please!"

Finally, after a loud and particularly harsh spank from Jeongin accompanied by a satisfied grunt, he decided that your study session was over. He settled his large hand on your ass and rubbed the scarlet skin to try and coax you back down. Your back rose and fell while your knees buckled from the torture he had just put you through. You let out a sharp hiss and every time Jeongin's hand lovingly fondled the abused flesh. Jeongin, however, was beyond elated and relished your pain. In another demonstration of his strength, he flipped your body over like a ragdoll and pushed you onto the table so your legs hung over the edge. He then slotted himself between his legs and greeted your puffy face with a broad grin.

"Such a good little student for Innie," he teased. Pushing into you further, he let his cock press against your soaking cunt and further drench his sweatpants in your juices. The warmth of your bares chests pressing together made you smile while the squish of your breasts made Jeongin rejoice in being able to indulge in the plumpness of your body. He placed a layer of kisses from your forehead down your face, licking away your tears and shushing your sniffles.

"Did I do good?" You sniffled. Jeongin held his body over yours, blocking the light above with his broad, bare shoulders. He looked down at you with a mixture of emotions behind his eyes which were hard to discern, but were surely good-natured, regardless of his previous actions.

"Of course, y/n," he hummed, "so good." He let his hands roam up and down your bare thighs to reassure you, coaxing a smile out of you.

"Really?" You asked with a lightness you didn't expect as you reached up to cradle his face

"Absolutely," he chuckled while only moving to lay his hand over yours. He leaned down again and resumed his trail of kisses down your neck towards your chest. Your hands helped pull him down to you. You played with his thick locks before trailing your fingers down his back muscles.

"Such—a—smart—and—pretty—girl,” Jeongin cooed between every kiss to your chest. Each kiss between his words only increased your sense of pride and the neediness between your legs. The feelings only worsened when Jeongin finally attached his mouth to your nipple while he groped the other, suckling on you with a ferocity you didn't expect.

"F-fuck," you mewled as spit trickled down your chest.

"Are you ready to continue our lesson?" Jeongin asked while moving to suck on your other breast.

"Yes, Innie" you purred as you arched your back to meet his mouth. “Always ready for you.”

He chuckled and continued to satisfy you a bit longer, caught up in your moans and almost forgetting the pain of his erection as it desperately kneaded your cunt. Despite your small protests, he finally pulled himself away. Smiling at your pouty expression, he sauntered backward and stared at your limp body before speaking.

"Stand up."

It was embarrassing how fast you rose to the ground. You were only focused on following his orders, obeying him, needing more and fearing that you would get nothing if you were disobedient. You barely even noticed how naked you were until you felt the cool air meet your spit-covered tits. Yet, when you moved to cover yourself, you stopped when Jeongin gave a look that said “I am not afraid to bend you over my lap and spank you again.” He smiled when you let your arms drop to your sides.

"She's such a good girl," he muttered aloud, reaching out to pull you forward by your tie. Your eyes were only on him and his sweat-covered chest and dishevelled hair and raw lips that kissed your body so perfectly.

He let his thumb slide up your jaw as he tugged you to him, hand sliding up your cheek and holding your face before tilting your head up. Then, as if the punishment didn’t happen, as if this annoying study session didn’t happen, as if these past four years were just a fever dream that you had finally awakened from, he leaned down and captured your lips in his. He kissed you—truly kissed you—for the first time, but, surely, hopefully not the last time.

When he finally broke away, he studied your soft eyes and offered a small kiss to your forehead, as if he were sealing you as his and promising that "Yes, I am sorry for the way things were. I'm sorry that what began as meaningless teasing just for fun turned into a fucked up crush. I am sorry that I haven't told you until now. I'm sorry that I'm such a fucking perverted loser that I couldn't just tell the beautiful girl that I had a crush on for four years that I liked her. I'm sorry that it took four years just to kiss you. I’m sorry I kissed you under such circumstances. Just know that I want you. I want you, so deeply and so passionately, so please just drop to your knees and fucking suck my cock and let me kiss you and fuck you and hold you and let me be yours and you mine." Instead of speaking the words he wished, he simply changed his stare and licked his lips, catching the lingering taste of you on them.

"Wanna learn something new?" He asked rhetorically, thumb gliding on your lower lip. You didn't even respond to him. Not a nod or a hum. You simply just allowed your mouth to open and have his thumb slip in, immediately rubbing the digit with your tongue and soaking it in spit. You didn’t want to respond or even acknowledge the act, not when you waited four goddamn years to suck his fingers.

"I'll take that as a 'yes,'" Jeongin mused. "I think you can assume what I want you to do." In response, you just gave your head a slight shake, still warming his thumb with your tongue.

"Really?" He asked in a mocking voice that made you wildly embarrassed and red. "You really are just a dumb little toy waiting to be used. Such an eager baby that wants to learn, yeah?" This time, you gave him a slight nod. Your hand traced his abs and stroked each line, unsure of what to do but unable to remain still.

"Okay then. Guess I’ll have to give my baby step-by-step instructions, yeah?" he sighed. "Get on your knees."

Needless to say, you were shocked by the request. Though you were glass-eyed at this moment and almost choking on just the length of his thumb alone, you still had a working mind; one that was not distracted by Jeongin's eagerness pressing into your lower abdomen or how he looked at you or how much he wanted you or how fucking good his chest felt or how he shivered when your hand traced over his nipples. Despite all of this, you still had a conscience, and it told you to leave. It told you that this was an embarrassing turn of events that could only end badly and that you should run away, leaving him with his cock still hard and unsatisfied, then report him to the principal for bullying or public indecency or something! You knew that you should go.

Instead, you simply sank to your knees. You still suckled on Jeongin's thumb while he shakily exhaled a chorus of "you're such a good girl, such a good student, so smart, so sweet, so soft". Your hands trickled down his abs before rubbing the soft fabric of his sweatpants that you wanted so desperately to be removed. They hung off him proudly and lowly, kept up only by a measly tied knot and displaying his adonis belt that drew your eye line downwards. When you finally settled on your knees, your fingers and eyes traced down these lines and fiddled with the top of his sweatpants. Your fingers then traced lower until your hand palmed his heavy erection, unsure of what to do as you massaged the length. He was so stiff and long and big and—

Oh. He was big. Even in your inexperience, you knew it. It must have been a good few inches above average. You gulped at his size, in awe of his length that he was done so well to hide.

"Remember what you said earlier?" He asked, removing his thumb from your pop mouth so he could cup your jaw. He tried to tilt your head up, but it was too difficult with your eyes fixated on the heavy, large bulge that protruded from his pants.

"C'mon baby, remember what you said? Use your big girl memory and tell me," he cooed. Your hands rubbed up and down his thighs while your hips rutted against nothing, the pressure between them building exponentially due to neglect. He tilted your head again, meeting your big doe eyes and forcing your focus away from his strained hard-on.

"Innie," you choked out, fingers teasing the hem of his pants. "Hands... so big... so you must be..." He let you trail off and allowed your faze to return to his pants as they transfixed on the prominent outline of his cock and the stain on the fabric right at his tip.

"That stupid fucking theory about noses being indicators of size," he continued with a smile on his face, "is just that: a stupid fucking theory."

As if answering your prayers, he used his spare hand to slip the knot off. Then, with a small tug, he slowly lowered his pants enough, just enough to let his cock slip out. In turn, you were blessed with the picture-perfect image of his cock.

"Don't I prove that what you say about big hands is true, y/n?"

You just gave him a dumb nod, too needy to formulate proper words. However, he didn't need you to speak: he knew he was correct.

You always had a thing for his hands, but they were nothing compared to his cock. But together, when his large hands held his immaculately big, veiny, pulsing dick made your mouth water and dribble fall down your lips. His tip was red and leaking precum, begging to be touched or fucked or given some goddamn attention. He offered himself a few pumps, hissing as his heavy erection dripped fluids that you tried to catch desperately on your tongue. It wasn't enough. You needed more.

"Innie," you mewled, catching his attention.

"Y/n," he gasped as he stared down at your teary-eyed expression that was so cute and obviously needed to be rewarded.

"Please," you mumbled with embarrassment, "teach me." Your hand then went overtop of his and tightened around it, subsequently tightening the grip on his dick and making him moan a little louder than what he was comfortable with.

"Y/n, f-fuck," he whimpered as he pinched his eyes. With your eyes still transfixed on his hot tip, you pulled his hand off his cock and allowed both of your hands to hold him, heat radiating off of his length and precum coating your hands until they were glossy. You pumped it slowly, just as he did, mimicking the motion and unknowingly teasing him more than he would like.

"B-baby, please just suck it," he panted. You glanced up at him again and felt the drool pooling out of your mouth and collecting on your tongue. Then, with great hesitation, you pressed your tongue against him and licked up his slit, causing Jeongin to release a shaky grown that was soaked in pleasure.

"J-just like that—fuck!"

Your hands kept a steady pace while stuck your tongue out, giving him persistent and repeated licks. Each time you re-coated his cockhead in slobber and coaxed more profanities out of him. Still, you maintained a steady pace and dared not to increase your speed. You wanted to hear him beg and cry and whine like this forever.

"Fuck, y/n, take more of it in your mouth," he begged as his hands rested on your head and tangled in your hair. Yet, due to your dumb state and how good he sounded, you struggled to obey him

"Oh, right," he panted out, "you need to be shown how to do everything. My baby is just a little dumb student who needs to be taught. She needs to learn how to suck Innie’s cock like a good girl, right Y/n?" You simply hummed in response, continuing to pump and milk him. Jeognin’s hand found stability on the back of your head and balled your hair once again. The pull made you moan and the strain burned just as delectable as it did before.

"Now, open your mouth wide," he chuckled. You obeyed him like the dumb fucking slut you were and allowed your jaw to go slack, still rubbing your tongue on the underside of his tip and making him swallow back a moan.

"Good," he praised in a strained voice. "Now, take it." Suddenly, he pushed your head forward and forced your mouth to take his cock, gagging on his girth and soaking him in warmth. The intrusion made you hum loudly and for you to tighten your grip on his pulsing length Jeongin, on the other hand, was completely oblivious to your teary-eyed gags and continued to shove himself into you, inch by inch.

"G-good job," he whimpered in a low voice that he hoped he couldn't hear, "so warm." Though you could barely breathe and your mind was shocked by the act, you still felt yourself dripping onto the hardwood floor below you. Despite your confusion, your tongue and hands seemed to know what to do. As you gagged on him, the wet muscle rubbed up and down on any part of his cock it could reach while your hands pumped what your throat couldn't take.

"J-just like that," Jeongin hummed. He pulled your head back then and allowed you to take a deep breath in before pushing you down again. Shallow thrusts allowed him to push deeper into you and fluids to leak from your mouth onto the floor below you. Lewd, wet sound accompanied your gags, making Jeongin beyond elated.

"Y-You're the best student, y/n," he hoarsely whispered. "So smart and you've learned to let me fuck your mouth so easily. Such a fast learner, such a g-good, good girl for her Innie, yeah?" You could do little but hum along.

"Aw, does my baby want to breathe?" He asks through pants, to which you replied with an eager hum. He pulled you off his cock and you immediately gasped for air, hands leaving him to wipe the drool off your face and dry your tears.

"Better?" He asked, a mixture of sincerity and domineering sadism coating his voice.

"Y-yes, Innie," you responded feebly. He smiled at your answer.

"Good." He then changed his expression to a stern look and released your hair, letting you settle on your knees and take a few deep breaths.

"Next step," he began as he lifted his cock up and harshly grabbed your wrist to hold it up yourself. After placing the heavy cock in your hand, Jeongin then grabbed the other hand and forced you to cup his balls, unchanging in his expression or demeanour. He stared into you and you stared into him. He tutted and cooed at your expression which eagerly awaited instruction, begging to know what to do.

"Suck them. Now."

The order was processed in your head and left you spinning. Yet, you immediately obliged. After all, you didn't want to disappoint Jeongin. He thought you were a fast learner and he wanted to train his stupid slut as best he could. If you wanted him to be proud of you, then you had to prove him right. As such, your tongue left quick kitten licks his balls and the underside of his cock. Jeongin, through whines and moans, began to pet your head and encouraged you, s if he was begging instead of trying to dominate you.

"N-now," he stuttered out, "Pump me, fuck my cock with your hand, y/n." Your hand picked up a fast pace that glided over his slick cock and only deepened the desperation in Jeongin's voice.

"Shit.” He gaped at how well you did it, how well you obeyed him. You even began to take control, going back to suck his tip while your hands fondled the parts your mouth couldn't satisfy.

"M-missed the taste of my cock yeah? Missed how my pre-cum tasted on your tongue?" He rambled as you pumped him eagerly and sucked harshly. Sweat dripped down his forehead and a blush spread down his chest from you. He couldn't help but speak when he got like this: he praised everything you did and began to tell you everything he wished to say.

"Oh, y/n, I w-wished you knew why I teased you," he confessed through pants, "I wished you realized how much I like to annoy you, to get your attention, to tease you—mmh, fuck! All my friends know why I do it... every day they ask why I don't just go up to you and tell you why. But I could never seem to." Your mouth parted from his tip, your hand quickly replacing it, so you could properly look at the man who towered over you.

"Why... why didn't you do it, Innie?" you asked, voice still hoarse from when he made you take his cock.

"Because," he gasped out as he tried to steady himself. "Because... I like to tease you, to make you notice me. I just w-want you to notice me, you sweet thing, and take care of me like you are now. And you know what? I think that—f-fuck—I think you like it when I tease you, too." He was not wrong, and the ruined floor with the clothes and books on it was evidence. But, you also knew that he was right because here you were, sucking his cock and balls and choking on it with the greatest pleasure. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you. You wanted him to do things to you that you were too embarrassed to think about even in solitude.

You impatiently returned to his length, each lap of your tongue and stroke of your hand making his moans louder.

"Y/n," he groaned. "Y/n, y/n, y/n—" His voice got quicker as your motions increased in speed and determination. "Fuck d-don't stop, such a good girl! Perfect fucking mouth for me, perfect, so smart, such a tease—god!"

Suddenly, his hand pushed your head and his cock was shoved down your throat, mouth hugging him as his hips made shallow thrusts into you and gags erupted from your stuffed throat.

"Y/n, y/n, baby, y/n, swallow, swallow, please—" his chants were high pitched as he continued to rutt into your mouth, "—so tight so warm, I— I—I can't—hmph!" Jeongin pressed himself into you as far as he could while his hips twitched, causing you to choke but not dare pull away, not now, not when you were doing such a good job. Your mouth—reddened and swore from Jeogin's abuse—now leaked his cum that couldn't be swallowed.

"That—that, I—" Jeongin stammered unintelligibly. Ever the gentleman, Jeongin pulled you off his cock and watched the remaining liquid gush from your mouth. The cum trickled onto your tits and worn tie, making you squirm and for Jeongin to take a shaky breath.

"So, so precious," he muttered through exhausted pants. You stared up at him, coughing from the misuse of your throat and the need for air. Still, you felt strange: needy, unsatisfied, like you needed the same release Jeongin did.

"Innie, I need—"

"Please, rest, baby," he cooed, stroking your hair absent-mindedly as his still-hard cock pathetically dribbled out cum. You licked your lips at the sight: the taste of his juices still lingered on your mouth.

"No, no, I..." You pawed at his hands and gripped his wrists lightly. The act took him out of his trance and look down at you. You were sleeked in sweat and cum, your thighs were pressed together tightly and coated in slick. You bounced with impatience, wanting more and more and not knowing how to ask for it. However, Jeongin may be stupid and a jerk, but even he slowly pieced together what you wanted.

"Y/n, you—"

"Innie," you urged as you started to pull him down towards you. As you pulled him lower, you laid on your back, bringing him down with you. "Innie, please."

"Y/n, you should rest—" Jeongin tried to argue while he sank to his knees and placed his palm on the floor to steady himself.

"No." When he tried to argue again, you placed your mouth on his and pulled him fully on top of you on the library floor. When your lips finally parted, Jeongin stared at you with hopeful eyes.

"Please," you sobbed. You grasped one of his hands and slowly guided it down between your bodies, rutting against it as soon as it was close enough to your cunt. "Innie, please make it go away."

Jeongin smiled. Who was he to say no to you?

His hand immediately found your clit and began rubbing tight circles on it, making you writhe and whimper.

"F-Fuck, it feels so good," you mewled. Your pussy was gushing from the contact and it only became wetter when Jeongin licked his cum off of your chest. Bite marks and bruised skin were left behind in their stead, eager lips nipping at untouched skin. Though you hated being marked up and worried that it would show, you couldn't protest. Not when it felt this good, not when he was doing it.

Jeongin relished touching you, as well. He rubbed his cock onto your thigh while whimpering into each kiss. It was as if kissing you brought him to life, as if all of those years of teasing and picking on you had been worth it because he could fucking finally express his passion for you in a way that satisfied you both. Ever since he first saw you in the tight, ill-fitting uniform, he knew he wanted to be yours. Soon that feeling developed into the perverted dire need to bend you over the nearest surface and fuck you from behind. Now, as he was kissing down your chest, and fingered your perfect, tight hole, he knew he was so close to what he wanted.

"Fuck, I," he gasped out between kisses, "I can't." Unexpectedly, he sat up and fully slotted himself between your legs. Before you could protest, however, you found your knees pressed to your chest, your skirt bunched around your waist, and Jeongin was rubbing his cock through your folds.

"Jeongin!" You yelped.

"J-just the tip," he whined. "Innie is gonna put just the tip in and then he is gonna take such good care of you. He just needs the tip, just a little bit, just needs to feel his precious little baby, just needs the tip just—hmph! Fuck! Y/n, baby, t-take it."

Even if it was just his tip, you knew you were too tight for him. Just his cockhead alone was stretching you out. But, the pain, just like how he pulled your hair or spanked your ass or choked you, was amazing. Though you protested, it was all just for show: to rile him up or to maintain some semblance of propriety. Truly, you never wanted him to stop.

"I-Innie! It's too big! I can't— I can't it's too big— fuck!" You stammered as continued to push himself into you, filling you with more than he had promised. Your voice made him whine and push his face into the nape of your neck. Immediately, he began to nip and kiss your neck in a feeble attempt to control himself. Yet, as he plugged you, he knew that he couldn't resist. You just felt too good, too sweet, too soft, too warm, too wet, and too perfect to just put his tip in. With every shaky breath, he tried to control himself, but he just couldn't. After only a few seconds, he began to stuff you full.

"Innie! What are you—"

"It's j-just the tip, just a little more." His muffled stutters vibrated against your skin, "I just n-need you, just need my g-good little baby to fuck this cock and be good for Innie and take what I give her. Let me fuck your perfect cunt and fill your pussy with my cum. You'd like that, to be filled with my c-cum?" Jeongin was almost fully inside of you and viciously rubbed your clit with every centimetre. You had never felt so full in your life.

"C-cum, Innie's cum?" You repeated naively.

"Yeah, just my cum. Only mine, only Innie's. You're m-mine, just mine only I get to fill this with my cum. Yeah?" He rose and looked down at you, lips ghosting over yours. As he stared down at you, it was hard to pinpoint what he felt. Sure, there was the deliciousness of corrupting your naivety, being the first one to fuck your cunt, and how every inch that entered you made you moan louder and with more desperation. However, at that moment, as he glanced down into your eyes which were always so sweet, he was overcome by the dire need to protect you. He wanted nothing more than to love you and have you as his, more than he'd ever wanted before. His cock eased into you, your breasts were covered in his slobber, you had swallowed his cum, his dick was twitching from overstimulation, and all he could think of was how lovely you looked.

"Yes," you sniffled, "only for you, Jeongin, my Innie."

"Oh, y/n," he panted. His lips captured yours and kissed them softly, contrasting the quick friction against your clit and the stretch of your cunt accommodating his cock.

Then he pushed himself into you, impatience getting the best of him.

"Fuck!" You both whined at the same time: Jeongin from the feeling of your tight cunt hugging him so well, and you from how you were filled to the brim with him. His hands moved to your inner thighs, spreading them to allow himself to rest between them and hug his waist. He eagerly gripped the soft flesh to try and control himself. Softly, his thumbs rubbed your skin and he let out strained moans. Your eyes were pinched shut and, with your legs free, you wrapped them around his torso and pulled him into you. As you did, he pushed a little deeper, only a little, but you rejoiced in the sensation. You feared that if pulled out of you, you would crumble. It was all too much too soon, too fast and too good to let it end too quickly. Clawing at his back with tears streaming down your cheeks, each breath brought you closer to him.

"It's too much... Innie I-I can't I—"

"Please, please, y/n." The desperation in his voice made your eyes open and stare at him. His face had reburied in your chest and it took everything in him to look up at you. As soon as you saw the look on his face, you knew that it was too much for him too.

"Let me make you f-feel good," he panted as he pressed his forehead into yours, "j-just a little, just take it, p-please." He didn't wait for your response as he pulled out a little, clamping his eyes shut from the feeling of dragging his cock out of you and hissing to refrain from immediately pounding back into you.

"Shit, it f-feels so good," you sniffled as he eased back in.

"Yeah? I told you. S-such a d-dumb baby, so dumb for my cock." His voice made you whine and your hands go up to knot themselves in his hair, pulling it slowly as his hips found a peaceful rhythm that contradicted the merciless lust it made you feel.

"So dumb," you mindlessly repeated, "such a s-stupid fucking baby for Innie." Your words hitched as he made a particularly harsh thrust into you.

"Innie,” you asked in a small voice, “d-do you like it when I say that?"

Jeongin panted, trying to control himself, "Y/n, I—"

"You like to know I'm dumb, yeah? My stupid little pussy n-not know how to handle your big, veiny fucking c-cock?"

"Fuck, please, don't edge me," he strained through gritted teeth and with fingers dinging harshly into your thighs.

"T-teach me, teach me to how to fuck your cock."

He didn't intend to pick up the pace as quickly as he did. Nor did he mean to make his thrusts so harsh with such a lack of control that you moaned with each push and pull of his heavy dick. But, when it came to you, he couldn't control himself.

"I'm—gonna—fill—you—with—my—cum," he growled as he pistoned into you. His hands moved to your outer thighs, occasionally spanking them and enjoying each jiggle of fat with every thrust into you.

"Fuck, slow—please s-slow down," you sobbed as your tits dragged across his chest, your overly sensitive nipples. Jeongin, however, just chuckled, his laughs dying out quickly as they were replaced by quick breaths. His eyes became dark again and his grip on you tightened, sweat mixing with your own as precum made a white ring around his cock.

"Just know that it's gonna spill out of you, that I'm g-gonna fill you up every day and keep you stuffed with it," he whimpered as his hips rolled faster, making his eyes pinch shut. "So warm inside of you, leaking out and just waiting for me to stuff it all back in and cum again and again and again and again."

"Innie, it's too much, " you responded dumbly. Jeongin didn't care. He just loved to hear his petname come out in little whimpers. His eyes opened again slowly, taking you in. Fuck, you looked so cute and fucked out, so close yet still begging for more.

"What's my name? Say it," he demanded with a stern glare.

"I-Innie..."

"Say it again—fuck, say it again, baby," he gasped.

"Innie!" You responded on command, like a dog being asked to bark.

"F-fuck, please, y/n, one more time just once more please!" He panted as his cock dragged and drove into you at an unforgiven pace.

"Innie, Innie fuck me, please baby, Innie, fuck!" You whimpered

"Fuck, it makes you blush. Getting all embarrassed and flustered... I make you blush, huh? My pretty baby, my innocent y/n, so cute—shit!" Jeongin's voice suddenly caught in his throat as he felt you tighten around him. While his veiny cock pulsed with each thrust, your warm cunt throbbed as you felt that strange feeling build and build inside of you. One of his hands moved back to your neglected clit and started to circle it quickly, making you pant like the needy bitch you were.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck—ah! Y/n, baby, s-stop clenching or I'll—I'll—"

"Innie," you sniffled softly, your voice soaked in desperation. "P-please, make me cum. P-please, for me? Please!" You couldn't believe the words that left your mouth. Neither did Jeongin.

"Y/n, I'm—fuck—I'm gonna—" his thrusts became sloppy and your jaw went slack as you felt lust building to an inordinate degree.

"I'm gonna— Innie— fuck!"

"Y/n, my baby, my sweet b-baby I— cum, cum!"

"Innie!"

Your cunt began to pulsate and your back arched. The feeling was unimaginable, like nothing you could ever describe. It came over you quickly and suddenly, in a tremendous wave that you wish would last forever. Jeongin, in a brief moment of clarity, pulled out of you and rubbed his soaking cock quickly, letting out occasional and short grunts as he fucked his hand. Then, his hips stilled and cum began to spill out of his tip, coating your stomach and cunt in his cum. Yet, you hardly noticed: you were too-fucked out to care.

Riding your orgasm, you sank to the floor and Jeongin collapsed on top of you. Both of you took deep breaths and he dropped his head against yours, eyes shut in ecstasy. His hands lazily dragged up your body before resting on your face. He pet the sides of your jaw and drew your eyes open to meet his. Seeing your eyes was like seeing a home dock in a storm. He pressed his lips into yours and stole your breath away again.

The kiss—unlike the moments leading up to it—was slow, soft. It took its time and ended only when you two were satisfied. After being brought down to reality, Jeongin pulled away and brushed some hair out of your face.

"Y/n," he softly said.

"Jeongin, Innie," you said back, twirling with his sweaty locks and massaging the nape of his neck.

"We..." he panted out before taking a look around, "We gotta clean this place up and get the fuck out of here."

You stared at him in awe before cracking a smile.

---

You felt weird walking in with Jeongin and his gang on Tuesday. Gang? Maybe like "gaggle of friends that constantly annoy you but you are now stuck with and quickly learning to love." Needless to say, it felt like all eyes were on you. Actually, it was true. Teachers, students, faculty, everyone: no one could believe that the top student was now walking hand-in-hand with someone who held the reputation for being the school's worst student.

Despite being an outspoken and confirmed hater of Yang Jeongin, here you were: walking in next to him, with his arm slung around you, and blushing at his cute jokes. God, when did Jeongin become cute?! What a horrid thing to think, let alone believe. Yet, you knew it. He was cute. And now, the whole school knew that you thought so. Or, at least, that's what your giggles insinuated.

Maybe you always thought he was cute and now you allowed yourself to believe it, like those intrusive thoughts were actually right all along, and, yes, you did actually think he was incredibly sweet and handsome, and likely the best boyfriend. It's only been four days but he already has promised to walk you to and from school every day and has dates pre-planned with you up until graduation. He hasn't told you about the latter part yet, but he will soon enough. He just needs to wait until you're a little more comfortable with him before he confesses how much he absolutely adores you.

Being an "it" couple was not on your goal list for high school. Come to think of it, being stared at when you walk with your boyfriend and losing your virginity to him a mere four days before in the school library was not on the list either. Oh, how plans change. Somehow, however, you didn't mind the stares. Though most were shocked at how Jeongin had bagged the school's nerdiest (and hottest) girl, how that girl—who hated the man—now gleamed at him with adoration, and how they ever managed to get together in the first place, the most shocking element was the fact that your uniform was not up to code. Every day for the past few years, you were a picture-perfect student with pressed dress shirts, even ties, and cleanly pleated skirts. Now, your tie was loose and you were even wearing a hoodie—fuck, his, hoodie?! Jesus.

As you walked to class, you couldn't care less. Jeongin escorted you to first period, giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek and almost smiling at how cute you looked all wrapped in his hoodie. Your fellow students—hell, even the teacher—seemed bewildered by the interaction.

You, however, barely acknowledged them. You just noticed the man in front of you in a light that was so starkly different from the past four years.

"Got everything, yeah?" He said with a straight face.

"Yes, Innie," you smiled, making him glance away.

"I told you—" he started in a voice that was a little too loud, making him dart around to see if anyone was looking his way. And, of course, everyone was looking at you two because how could they not? The eyes on him made him uneasy, but when he turned back to you, all those uncomfortable feelings disappeared into nothing. He licked his lips anxiously and leaned in, adopting a hushed voice to try and retain a morsel of privacy. "I told you not to call me that in public, baby," he blubbered, "it ruins my image. Please, baby."

God, was he blushing? Fuck, he was perfect.

"Okay, Innie," you teased, making him ever redder. You stressed his nickname and relished in his embarrassed demeanour.

Huh. Maybe Jeongin had been right all along: teasing was fun, especially if it was done on the person you liked the most.

"Promise me you'll go to class, okay? I'll see you in last period, then we'll keep working on the project," you said.

"Ugghhghhhhh.." he groaned with a long-winded exasperation. "UGH... Okay."

"Great!" You smiled mischievously, "And we'll actually have to work on it. Unlike all those other times we... 'worked on the project' together this weekend."

"Y/n." His blush grew from his ears down his neck, still unable to make eye contact with you. You'd think that years of teasing you made him impervious to sly remarks, but when they're coming from you, well that's a different story.

"Why are you acting like this?! It was your fault in the first place!" You huffed with an air of playfulness. "I just wanna remind you that we won't be alone in the library this time!"

"Just... g-get to class, okay?" He stuttered, "I'll see you later, baby." Extending his hand out in a half-heart shape, you completed it with a giggle, adoring how small your hands were compared to your boyfriend’s. Then, Jeongin softly wrapped his hand around yours and pulled you in, offering you a kiss to your forehead. When he pulled away, he readjusted your glasses as they had slipped down your nose bridge.

"Perfect," he said with a small voice. With a final giggle from you, he watched you go into class.

Now there was the issue of what to do with his day. Normally, he'd spend first period smoking outside with his friends, wait until second period for the cafeteria to start serving pizza, go to third just to eat, then go to fourth period just to see you.

Now.. fuck. He was actually going to class. He hated how you were already having an effect on his lifestyle, but rejoiced that you operated in a position that dictated his life. If he was to be controlled, he would want you to be the one pulling the strings. Jeongin seemed to see you for who you really were: determined, intelligent, and perfect to coddle. Looking at you even had an effect on him, one that he could now proudly display instead of hiding behind bullying and teasing (not to say he’ll stop teasing you anytime soon).

As he slung himself into his assigned seat for first period, his surprise was mirrored on the teacher's face. God. Despite having only a few days passed since you two got together, you were already changing him to a noticeable degree. Yet, it was for the better. And he smiled knowing that if he was changing, that it was for good and that it was for you.

#jeongin smut #I.n. smut #yang jeongin smut #yang jeong x reader #jeongin x plus size reader #jeongin x y/n #i.n. x reader #stray kids smut #skz smut

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soombee · 1 month ago

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🫂 ｡ﾟ⊹ you’ve built a home in my heart — 15. who’s the bitch boy now?!

:: u got up at 2 am to get some snacks at the convenience store down the street. for your inconvenience, you quietly opened the door to meet a peculiar sight, someone trying to sleep on the floor across the hallway because their roommate has their gf over .. ?

warnings ⚠️ none, sappy shit </3

word count ‼️: 0.8k / 815 words

hai its been a long time ……. ( •̥ ̫ •̥ )

outside apartment complex, 5:38 pm

you stood outside the apartment building, waiting for your handsome date. you were excited, your heart beating out of your chest, your palms were extra sweaty, plus you couldn’t help but fidget with your fingers, hands, lips, and anything you could play with to relieve your anxiety.

you saw a familiar car pull up in front of you, “what the hell” you whisper to yourself as niki rolls the window down, “hey pretty lady! are u gonna get in or what?”

“hi silly” you flash your smile at him, “are you gonna open the door for me or what?”

“why yes, of course, anything for the princess of ansan, south korea” he says with a tinge of sarcasm in his voice as he makes his way to the passenger door, “and the queen of my heart.”

“shut the fuck up, riki” you accidentally hit his shoulder, “thank you” you kiss his cheek, feeling bad for the accident

when riki got in the car, you questioned him, curiosity took over you. “hey, isn’t this jay’s-“ he cut you off

“yes, it is, but it’s also mine” he kept his eyes on the road, “he gave me a safety key so i think he knows that ive been driving it” he smiles.

(6:30 pm, almost there)

“where are we going?” you asked, hoping for a clear answer, “you’ve been driving for foreverrr”

“secret” he sure loves keeping secrets

“did i dress for the occasion?” showing off your beautiful sundress, surely this question would make him slip

“maybe” riki laughs, he knows what your antics were. “whatever you ask, i wont tell you”

“whyyy” you pinch his cheek, making sure to leave a mark on his smug face

“cause it’s a secret and i don’t want to ruin the surprise” he pinches your nose, “plus we’re already here”

“hm?” you look through the windshield, seeing a beautiful blue beach, the water slowly running low on shore. its bright blue color like a cloudless sky

“ohmygod, it’s so pretty” you exclaim, not even hiding your excitement from riki

“just like you” he winks and gives you a lightskin stare while you just stare at him blankly, “okay nevermind then.”

“omg dude wait, i dont even have a swimsuit” you cup his cute face, his cheeks were so squishy and bouncy

“dont worry abt that, i already bought you one” he grins, you were concerned on what he bought you. “anyway, let’s go inside”

you followed riki as he led you towards the gorgeous beachside restaurant. the sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air, and the salty breeze tousled your hair. It felt perfect — too perfect almost, like something out of a movie. u hadn’t felt this excited and anxious at the same time in forever.

"come on, baby," he teased, giving you a mischievous grin as he opened the door to the restaurant

the interior is gorgeous, so homey and beautiful. fairy lights adorned the ceiling, casting a warm glow over the space. You two went outside, the beach was the perfect backdrop for your romantic date. He led you to a small table, already set with dinner—candles, a carefully laid-out platter of food, and all.

"riki, this is beautiful" you pouted, eyes wide in awe, “u did all of this?!!”

"well, jay lowkey helped a little," he admitted sheepishly, "but it was mostly me! and konon.."

you shook your head, a huge smile spreading across your face. "you know, for someone who jokes around a lot, you can be pretty romantic."

“pssshhhh,” he shrugged, pretending to brush it off, but you could tell he was proud. “you bring out the best in me, yn”

riki guided you to your seat and pulled it out for you. "my lady," he said with exaggerated politeness.

"why thank you, kind sir," you played along, feeling your heart swell with appreciation.

as you sat down, riki reached into his bag and pulled out a swimsuit. you couldn’t help but burst into laughter when you saw it—it was a pink two-piece with his face all over it!

"oh my god riki," you chuckled, holding it up. "really?"

"it’s cute!" he defended, but his grin told you he knew exactly what he was doing

"fine, fine," you sighed, still laughing. "i’ll wear it. but if I look ridiculous, you owe me."

"you could never look ridiculous," he replied smoothly, his gaze softening as he looked at you

you both sat in silence for a moment, the atmosphere suddenly shifting to something more serious, more intimate. the waves, the soft lights, his sweet gesture—it all felt so magical

"thank you, baby," you said softly, reaching for his face across the table. "this means a lot to me”

he put his hands over yours gently, his usual playful demeanor momentarily gone, “you mean a lot to me”

☆ prev || m.list || next — ♡

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ xtras over here !!

taglist (open) !! @aernx @alicesolengg @beomgyusonlywife @yourmyst4r @j-wyoung @yumilovesloona @astrae4 @mrowwww @chaechae-23

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zoandreez · 1 year ago

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can you meet me by the lake ? ☆.｡*‧₊˚

pairing: neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan x omaticayan!reader

summary: you were best friends with neteyam. you just wanted to see him, but his future olo'eyktan duties seem to interfere everytime you wish to.

word count: 855

warnings: angst? fluff resolve, reader has a name because who i look like calling you "why slash en"

a/n: apologies for my absence but unless you wanna do my trig and ap euro homework for me id rather you just wait

The memory of meeting Neteyam would forever be etched in yor mind. Back then, you were just young children. On this day, or at least the time you two met, your objective was to collect rocks for your songcord after your latest triumph: using your father's bow and arrow to hunt your first fish. So there you were in the forest, picking up rocks as you went along.

The forest hummed with life around you, as you scoured the ground around a lake for clear purple stones. It was in the middle of you turning around to examine a reflection that caught your eye when you collided into a little boy. Your newfound treasures fell to the floor, the two of you quickly dropping to retrieve them.

"Sorry!" The boy said, bubbling enthusiasm escaping from his voice. He was normally this excited, as you saw him one time with his mother, with the same infectious smile he had on his face right now.

His excitement quickly turned to curiosity as he noticed a clear rock on the floor you were reaching for. He quickly turned his attention to you, eyes filled with wonder. "Hey, where'd you get these from? They look so cool!" His admired eyes made you smile shyly, before you turned to the nearby lake.

"There's a small cave right beneath the waterfall. The water cleans the rocks and makes them look clear." Following your gaze, the boy spotted the delicate cascade of water descending from above. He quickly grabbed your hand, and tugged you along.

"Show me!"

The two of you spent the rest of the day carefully cradeling each rock, like its own jewel, inside the bioluminescence-filled cave. It lightly shimmered off the reflection of the sun as the two of you collected rocks to your hearts desire, falling asleep together. When you woke up, Neteyam was gone, but in his place sat a beautiful blue rock.

Even if you grew older, and life's responsibilites cast their shadows, this one day showed the two of you that you'd be best friends forever, and nothing will get in the way of that.

That's what you thought, at least.

You spent the day at the lakeside, a place that had become almost ritualistic in its significance. It had been a familiar route since your childhood, following the same trees past the same leaves, and meeting the same boy everyday. At fifteen, both you and Neteyam had grown considerably, trying to balance adolensence and responsibility.

Eventually, the process became the same, except most of the time, that "same boy" wasn't there.

Neteyam had three siblings. He took responsibility for every one of them, a "third parent," even. However, this often pulled him away, and your encounters became infrequent. It was almost as if life demanded you two apart, whether it was the call of duty to the Sky People war, or the need to watch Lo'ak due to his impulsive behaviors.

The sun taunted you, sitting right above you with warmth over the lake, turning the familiar mist into glistening droplets. It was enough to lightly heat the lake's usual icy bite, savoring the setting without somewhat freezing. Time had stretched longer than usual, as you held out hope for your best friend to make it. A promise he had made to you kept you lingering. Your emotions were not tinged with anger towards Neteyam; rather, a subdued disappointment hung in the air, a consequence of the inconvenience his tardiness had caused.

Eventually, you surrendered to your cracked heart, rising from the rock you were perched on. It was then that your gaze met his—the wide, yellow eyes that held both familiarity and apology. Neteyam's voice broke the silence, carrying a note of regret that underlined his words.

"Sai'tara," he addressed you, his voice evident with disappoiment. You could tell he scolded himself for allowing time to slip through his fingers, and his eyebrows furrowed with hurt when he saw your belongings clutched in your hand, a sign of your preperation to leave.

"Hey 'teyam," you muttered in response, your enthusiasm muted. His tardiness had cast a shadow over your usual excitement. Strangely, his presence seemed to amplify your frustration rather than soothe it. You noted the exhaustion etched into his features—the half-lidded eyes, the sunken bags beneath them, and a posture that bore the weight of something more than just his physical being.

The air was heavy with unspoken words, a silence that held the unaddressed tension between you two. "Listen, I'm sorry I'm late," he began, his voice tinged with a plea for understanding. "You know how it is, with Lo'ak being an idiot all the time—"

"Yeah yeah," you interjected. You didn't necesarily have time for him and his late antics. You completely understood his responsibilities, but they just didn't intertwine with your desires. It wasn't resentment that colled your emotions, but longing to just see your best friend.

His lips parted, ready to speak, but closed them once again. He walked up to you, saying nothing. He wrapped his arms around your waist before he melted into you. You shouldn't be accepting his embrace, your mind still distant from the idea of hanging out with Neteyam after it had been so long. But, for some reason..

Your arms slowly wrapped around him.

The remainder of the day flowed like a river of shared moments, laughter, and conversation. Neteyam's voice filled the air with his complaints about Lo'ak's antics, his exasperation giving way to your laughter. In turn, you poured out your own frustrations, venting about your sisters' tumultuous love lives, finding amusement in the way Neteyam's eyebrows would shoot up in response to your tales.

The small cave, the same one where your friendship had ignited all those years ago, bore witness to your conversations that traversed time and seamlessly picked up where they had left off.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting shadows that danced across the cave's walls, the weight of the day's interactions finally caught up with you. The familiar fatigue tugged at your eyelids, and you found your head nestling against his shoulder. The gentle rise and fall of his chest, the rhythm of his breath, provided an unexpected sense of comfort. In that cocoon of shared memories and newfound closeness, you succumbed to the embrace of sleep.

When your eyes fluttered open, it was to an empty space next to you. Neteyam was nowhere to be seen, his warmth and presence replaced by an echoing hollowness.

But then your gaze fell upon it—the necklace. Not just any necklace, but one that mirrored his own. The delicate beads held a pattern identical to his, though in lighter hues, and a small, carefully shaped rock took its place at the center.

A beautiful blue rock.

#avatar #avatar the way of water #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully #shorter than usual #im baaaaaaaack

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americasass81 · 2 months ago

Text

Basement Lovers

Warnings 18+ for the following:- Dubious Consent, Spooky Halloween Vibes, Mention of A Loved One’s Death, Implied Witchcraft, Implied Murder / Human Sacrifice, Loss of Virginity, Oral (Female receiving), Fingering, P in V Sex, Multiple Orgasms. Seriously do not read if any of this upsets you, the warnings are there for a reason. Feedback is welcomed and any mistakes are my own.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Author’s Note 1:- Flowing from my muse as part of this spooky season, it seemed by the time I was finished this fic lent itself to a totally unspecified male character so I simply went with it. Hope anyone that reads it envisions their own character and likes the result. A special thank you also has to go to the fabulous @caplanbuckybarnes whose Titles For Caplan Writing Challenge makes a very welcome appearance here too.

Author’s Note 2:- Flashback scenes in color.

Synopsis:- Coming across a strange body in the basement of an old abandoned mansion you quickly discover that not all myths belong to the past.

Pairings:- Unspecified Male Character x Female Reader

Total Word Count:- 4,052

Leaving home and setting out on your walk as you normally did, the autumn evening and the cooling breeze welcomed you always like a well known lover and eased away the tensions the daily grind of that work and life had left behind. And the children running to and fro in all the various costumes of the Halloween season only added to the magic. A magic you yourself would soon come to experience.

Smiling and waving at the passing parents who acknowledged your presence with the same cordial greeting before taking a left turn off the main road and heading towards the older part of the neighborhood, a whisper on the breeze caught your attention and sent an eerie feeling creeping down your spine, but as usual looking around you, you saw nothing and simply shrugged it off as part of the holiday atmosphere before heading off on your walk once more. Except you didn't get very far and there was definitely something to see after all.

Standing outside the old McHenry house now on Blackthorn Lane, the eerie feeling seemed stronger here but it was nothing compared to the compulsion that now moved you up the driveway towards the entrance. A path no one in living memory had ever walked before. Placing one foot in front of the other now, while looking around curiously as the very air seemed to shimmer and sway all around you, your hand coming up to rest upon the doorknob fully expected to find the thing locked. But that was not the case however.

Turning at your touch and opening now of its own volition, you turned your head back towards the road, fully intending to walk away from this unnatural occurrence, but it seemed the house had different plans. Calling out to you in a way no other place ever had, your curiosity now overpowered every sense of self preservation that had been drilled into you by those that had gone before you and so stepping inside you really should have been freaked out when the door slammed shut behind you, but your attention was focused elsewhere.

Gazing around the foyer now at an inside that looked far better maintained than the grounds outside, the beauty and grandeur once present here was still evident for all to see ... even beneath the layer of dust coating everything like a protective lover. Hell, even on closer inspection, you could see that the years hadn't really claimed this place at all. Walking now from room to room as a feeling you couldn't explain compelled you forwards, the windows were all still somehow intact and the floorboards showed not one sign of wear or decay. It was remarkable actually. What would have proved even more remarkable you imagined, had you ventured upwards, would be the fact that the roof overhead was still as pristine as the day the first slate had been placed upon it, but fate it seemed was calling you in a totally different direction.

Having made your way throughout the ground floor and right back to where you had started, a door now visible on the wall beneath the double staircase that definitely wasn't there before completely held your attention in a way that should have told any sane person to get the hell out of there. But then it was the failure of that very instinct earlier that already led you here and found you now opening this door too to see what lay inside. Which would end up being a most terrible mistake.

Walking forward now and ignoring this door closing too as if in a trance, the stone steps appearing before you didn't seem to register the danger you were in. For the house seemed to have you now. Continuing downwards now, one foot at a time, your eyes widened in both shock and surprise as the scene before you tapped into an old memory your grandmother had shared with you as a child and confirmed all that you now saw before you. The legend was true.

Seated in the middle of this basement type room on a throne cast in the most elaborate of materials, the man chained to its armrests however had to be none other than the last known occupant of this opulent manor. And the last known sorcerer from centuries ago if the stories were to be believed. Reaching back through your memory now to the week before your grandmother had died, the girl you were then recalled in vivid detail the tale she had spun that you had simply chalked up to an old woman's fanciful imagination. But that it seemed was no longer the case.

Speaking in hushed tones then that only came about with age, the woman you loved so dearly had painted a picture of a vibrant town that prospered far beyond the other towns and times around it until one day the truth of its success was finally laid bare and the decline which reaches all at last took hold there too.

Explaining how the story went of a neighborhood seamstress stumbling upon some strange ritual taking place within the bowels of McHenry Manor, your grandmother continued to explain that a group of skilled local women supposedly versed in the arts of witchcraft entered the Manor after hearing her report, performed some type of ritual of their own and were never heard from again as the Manor's grounds somehow sealed themselves shut to all who tried to enter.

At least, that was the official version.

Watching your grandmother's eyes light up now as so many kids did when they knew something no one else did, your grandmother beckoned you closer now so she could impart to you one last secret it seemed before time finally claimed her. What she had never told you before, what no one in your life or surrounding neighborhood had ever told you before it seemed, was that the mansion was far older than you had ever known and it was an ancestor of yours that had not only been one of the women responsible for its current condition, she was also the only one to walk free from that cursed place.

A place you had now entered.

Coming back to the present now and looking back on the story in a different light, you still couldn't understand what all this meant and what it had to do with you. But it seemed there were still mysteries here to unravel. Walking around the room now while blatantly ignoring the figure obviously trapped in its center, your hands coming in contact with an invisible barrier as you reached out to pick up something off a nearby table told you there was definitely more to your grandmother's story than just the creative ramblings of an old woman. For one, not a speck of dust lingered here as it did in the rooms above you.

Trying various other spots now along the table, cabinets and bookshelves still as pristinely preserved as every other part of this odd building, the invisible barrier still halting your progress might have triggered your frustration if a burst of inspiration didn't suddenly occur to you however ... the man on the throne? Was it possible somehow that he could be the one thing in this whole room that you could actually touch?

Holding onto this thought now while silencing every other thought and instinct that screamed at you not to follow through with your idiotic intentions, your feet brought you closer and closer to the center of the room and the vision now waiting there. For there was no other way to describe him.

Not one for putting much stock in looks if you were honest and wholly unskilled in the art of dating, sex and all that came with it, you would of course have to be both blind and stupid not to admit that the man now seated before you, untouched by time, was nothing short of stunning. Tall in life, if his seated posture was any indication, his dark hair, striking cheekbones and all round muscular frame offered a rare insight into the man he must have been in life and the presence he no doubt commanded in every room he must have entered. But what of him now?

Walking in a circle around the throne now while taking in the chains that ran from his wrist to the chair he occupied in death as he had in life, your mind still couldn't comprehend that this was the same man. How could it be? The story had seemed weird and fanciful enough when your grandmother had shared it with you. And now, here you stood before someone supposedly far, far older than you and yet ... he could so easily be someone with whom you could see yourself sharing a life.

Which probably explained why your hand now rested against his cheek as your fingers caressed the startlingly soft skin beneath them. But perhaps the most startling thing of all was the result this action brought forth as the stranger's eyes now opened and locked with yours as if trying to reach out and connect with your very soul. And perhaps that might have happened if his actions that followed didn't pull you from your musings.

"Witch, I can smell your magic," the stranger croaked out suddenly before continuing, "dormant as the ashes of ancient times, but no matter. Wherever the spark is present, I still have the power to reach out and harness it." Rising from his throne then as the chains still held him to it, your mind screamed at you again to run, but your legs didn't seem to want to cooperate to that extent. Taking one step back instead for every one he took towards you, the snapping of the iron as they reached their maximum length seemed to be just the catalyst you needed to fire you into action. However, your handsome stranger it seemed had other ideas.

Murmuring words you had never heard before, words in fact no other human had now heard in centuries, the barrier that previously kept you from his possessions now somehow extended to keep you from the door, but it wasn't this occurrence that frightened you at this moment. No, instead it was the niggling force working its way throughout your body that somehow now caused you to not only turn around and face your captor, but take you right back towards him.

Screaming at yourself now to fight whatever was happening, though no words were ever heard, your legs finally halting your movements just within his reach told you somehow that this was his doing. And that was even before the man spoke again. "Ah yes," he still croaked as his slender fingers now came up to caress your cheek in the very same manner yours had done to him earlier, "I can see her in you. Your ancestor. Can feel her in you too," he continued with a smirk and if nothing else had scared you thus far then this action definitely did.

Evil in a way you couldn't describe, the smirk, coupled with those same fingers roaming over any part of your immobile body his reach could now access, it was his next words that wormed their way into your heart and froze it solid. "She was with child. Did you know that?" he asked as he still caressed your skin before revealing the final details of the story your dear departed grandmother was never privy to. Standing her ground and refusing his advances and promises as each of her sisters fell before him, your ancestor it seemed had given the last of her power to bind him forever to this place, but not before he had cast one last spell himself. A terrifying one he now took pride in revealing to you.

Reaching for her stomach as her own hands closed around his wrists and forged the chains that kept him rooted to this spot, his words invoked an ancient and powerful curse that in turn bound him to her bloodline. Promised in time would come a child, ignorant in the ways of magic, but destined to be his forever by the mark that sealed her fate. A mark he now revealed to you as his hand formed a fist below your throat and tore your top clean in half. There above your belly button now, as it had been your whole life, his fingers tracing the crescent moon birthmark brought you back to yourself and the shocking implications of all that he had just revealed.

You were meant to be his. But how was such a thing even possible?

No one in your family that you knew of possessed any magical ability and the birthmark he so reverently spoke of had never so much as raised an eyebrow among anyone that had seen it. Surely if such a curse had been laid upon your ancestor someone in the family would have known about it. Been watching and waiting for it. Surely to simply ignore it would have been the height of foolishness. After all, if your ancestor was as powerful as this man and your grandmother had seemingly believed surely she would have left a warning for those that came after her that such a grave threat hung over every one of her female descendants.

Unless! What was it he had said about her giving the last of her power to bind him to this place? Could it be she had thought that no longer having magic would save her descendants from whatever he had done? The laugh you let escape your lips at this little insight now told both you and the stranger how foolish that miscalculation had proven to be however, for it seemed the stranger had won, your ancestor had lost and you would be expected to pay the ultimate price. But what was that price exactly?

Raising your head to look at the stranger now, though his fingers never left your mark, your voice caught in your throat at your first attempt at speaking, but a quick cough soon found his full focus back on your face as you now began to question exactly what lay ahead. And his answer made you wonder if the curse itself hadn't invisibly dictated aspects of your life you had never even considered. For it seemed your lack of experience could be laid at his feet.

Explaining now that you had the power to free him, while he had the power to awaken gifts you never even knew you possessed, it seemed a kiss was the key to this whole thing ... your first kiss. Bound through spells older than the oldest of gods, you giving yourself to him, body and soul, would complete the ritual and meld your souls together in a way that made both of you stronger than the parts that time had currently separated. But you had to agree. A choice your ancestor had refused time and time again it seemed, leaving you now having to choose to walk your own path like her or embrace the one she had unknowingly thrust upon you. Which didn't seem like much of a choice really given that you couldn't seem to leave this place.

Grasping onto this particular thought now and shocking the stranger as you turned around and walked away from him, your hand reaching out for the door once more and still finding it blocked from the same invisible barrier you suspected still held you here, you now returned to the stranger and asked the only question that truly seemed to matter. "If I refuse to help free you this barrier will keep me trapped here forever, right?" and the smirking nod he sent your way was the only confirmation you needed that your life as you knew it was well and truly forfeit. Which now left only one course of action available to you.

Moving forward now and placing your lips against his, what had started out as something weird and clumsy soon changed to something completely different however as the man before you took control and deepened the kiss into something you knew you could never have initiated on your own. Biting your lips gently before his tongue sought entry and began to twirl itself with yours, his hands now pulling your body flush against his made you suddenly aware of everything your young life had so far been missing out on. And it seemed this revelation only made you yearn for more.

Twenty-four years old now and already past the age that most of your friends had begun to experiment with all the hidden activities their bodies had been designed to experience, it seemed your earlier conclusion had been correct ... the spell invoked all those centuries ago had somehow suppressed your natural urges if the sounds emanating from your body now were any indication. Panting, moaning, whimpering and sighing as his kisses grew harsher and your bodies now began to grind against each other, you were about to push him away in a much needed attempt to suck some oxygen into your over exerted lungs when his weight suddenly pushing you down to the floor brought a whole different thought bubbling to your mind ... the chains that held him were no more.

Free to ravage you now in whatever depraved manner his years of captivity saw fit, it still seemed that he alone was in full control of the situation unfolding all around you as the concrete floor below you and his weight above you didn't quite seem to crush you in the manner you would have expected. But that still didn't bring you the relief it should have, for now there was nothing between you and the man that meant to claim you. And that's exactly what he set about doing.

Removing your clothes as he did his own, his lips, tongue and teeth now began the same manipulation of your body as they had with your mouth and the experience was one you knew you would never be able to recreate on your own or with any other. Sucking here. Licking there. Biting, pulling and squeezing with just the right amount of pressure to make you question whether the experience was pleasurable or painful, the moisture leaking now from between your legs left no doubt at least as to how your body felt. It was coming alive in a way it never had before.

Reaching out towards his own body now as you tried to find something to ground you while his skillful ministrations continued to pull you apart, his hips now grinding against your intimate area brought what he had planned into stark focus however and you suddenly found the strength to push him from you at least enough that you could now see the face of the man who was determined to make you his own. But were you ready for that? It seemed you would either have to get ready pretty fast or convince him of your fears and doubts however if the rod now glistening beneath his legs was any indication. For it seemed he was well on his way to getting things started. But it also seemed he wasn't totally ignorant of what the intricacies of the spell had entailed however, as his eyes now followed yours to his dangling member and the implications its growing size meant for you.

"Don't worry darling, I'm well versed in using this tool and preparing all equipment properly. It may hurt slightly at first," he cautioned as his fingers now rested against your cheek in a gesture meant to reassure, "but I promise the pleasure and power on offer will soon obliterate all memory of any discomfort our coupling creates," he continued and this time as his lips connected with your nether region instead of your mouth all concerns your mind had previously conjured seemed to disappear as it now tried desperately to keep your lungs working while also trying to find the words to express the feelings assaulting every nerve in your body from the sensations working their way from his mouth to your flower. But it seemed you couldn't really describe what was happening.

Holding down your hips with one hand as his tongue and teeth manipulated a particularly sensitive spot between your legs, you could now only pant out shallow breaths while murmuring the word yes over and over and over again as first one finger and then another entered your private field and connected with parts of you you never knew existed or were even capable of creating the reaction this man was now pulling from you. But you knew you never wanted him to stop.

Reaching towards his head now and locking it in place with your hands and thighs, he somehow took your participation as consent and doubling his efforts, the scream that ripped forth from your throat at the same time your body spasmed and liquid gushed from your garden into his waiting mouth told you that this must be what a full body orgasm felt like ... and you didn't think you could survive another. But it seemed your companion couldn't give a rat's ass what you thought.

Continuing to stimulate your flower as wave after wave of orgasmic bliss radiated through you from head to toe, you were too far gone it seemed to notice his manhood replace his mouth, but not too far gone apparently to remember the words his lips had spoken earlier as he thrust it home in one fluid motion and a scream tore your soul apart when a white hot pain traveled along every nerve ending you possessed and threatened to rip all conscious thought from you, leaving nothing behind but an empty husk dedicated now to nothing but his pleasure. But it seemed that was a mild exaggeration.

Remaining still within you and shushing your pain with soothing words that sounded vaguely like those one lover might speak to another, your bodies remained connected as one until suddenly the fullness within you became more than both of you seemed able to handle and your hips began to nudge his own all by themselves. Taking this as a sign now that you wanted more of what he had to offer, your shallow breaths and whimpered sobs soon gave way to slapping skin and ancient words as the man above you ratcheted his member in and out of your pussy while a magical glow spread forth from your birthmark and ignited a fire within far more penetrating than the one that triggered your meltdown when his erection had torn through your maidenhead.

Continuing to pound into you now over and over and over again as one orgasm ended and another one began, his words eventually died on the air at the same time his balls and cock tightened like a coil before releasing burst after burst of warm cum against your now well used walls. Swearing and groaning out above you now as those same walls clamped down hard around his shaft and milked him dry of every bit of his essence he had to give, his body now collapsing atop yours was indication enough that the man was spent. But you however still seemed to have some wits about you. Rolling him off of you onto his side now, though he still somehow managed to remain inside you and as a result brought you with him, you would have asked him what the future now held, but something told you the answer to that was pretty obvious.

Gazing at him now as the haze which held him earlier had somehow slipped away as a result of what both of you had just shared, the feeling between your legs, the memory of what both of you had just done and the sparks now lighting up your fingertips told you one thing loud and clear ... you were not your ancestor. Giving into your desires and the knowledge that had been kept from you your whole life, you had chosen your own path and for better or worse you would walk it now beside this man for however long forever lasted.

#TitlesForCaplan

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alittlerobin · 11 months ago

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William/Kate

tags: William's manicure word count: 1.4k

“Well, well, isn’t it the robin herself, home so soon. I take it the mission went well?”

Kate turned her focus from bidding goodnight to Harrison and Liam after their return to the castle, instead looking toward Alfons. Whereas they had just gotten home, he was shrugging on his coat, no doubt heading out for yet another night on the town. He said “so soon” but the sun had long set and it wouldn’t be an hour before the clocks chimed midnight.

She cast him an easy smile. “Yes, thank you. Take care of yourself tonight too.”

“You’re as foolishly kind as ever. As a show of my utmost gratitude, may I advise that you pay a visit to the lounge before you tuck in for the night? You might find your beloved William partaking in something most amusing. Tata for now.”

With that, he swept past her and out of the castle, his coat billowing behind him like raven’s wings. She narrowed her eyes, given that any and all of Alfons’s “amusing” suggestions needed to be taken with a grain of salt and a mountain of caution. However, if Will was there…

As she’d learned from Liam, it rarely did her good to stifle her curiosity. Besides, there was nothing in the castle that could do her harm, right? …Aside from Roger’s lab and Alfons’s gloveless hands and Jude’s sharp tongue—well, nothing that she hadn’t learned to handle.

Smoothing down her skirt, she headed to the lounge and indeed found William there. Except he wasn’t alone.

William sat relaxed in an armchair, a glass of red wine beside him, with his hand stretched out as if in offer. And Ellis, perched on a stool beside him, was holding William’s hand in both of his. He also was slightly hunched over, leaning into William, and—for a split second—it looked as if Ellis was kissing William like a knight paying tribute to a king. But that couldn’t possibly be right.

For one, Ellis didn’t pull away, maintaining his position as he did something to William’s hand. And two, William’s attention wasn’t even on the younger man, instead shifting to pick up his wine glass and bring it to his regal lips for a long and savoring sip.

His gaze flickered over to her and the corners of his lips curled over the rim of his wine glass. “Welcome back, my robin.”

She crossed the room without waiting, as if following a command bidding her to him, and the only thing that kept her from kissing his wine-darkened lips was Ellis muttering a greeting to her as well.

“What are you doing?” She leaned over and caught a glimpse of a bloodred compact. Ellis was buffing William’s nails, causing a matte red to turn shiny. “Oh, is this how…?”

“My manicure needed a touch-up.” William’s voice was as musical as always. “Ellis noticed and volunteered to help.”

“I thought it’d make him happy,” Ellis explained, as if there were any other reason for why he did things.

“Indeed. He’s doing a fantastic job. Don’t you think so, Kate?”

Nodding, she grabbed another stool from nearby and sat down next to them so she could watch. Ellis had buffed William’s nails to shiny perfection, then gently turned William’s hand so he could do the same to his thumb. And, for the first time ever, she saw the natural pink of William’s nails.

“Wow…” Somehow, the actual color felt unreal.

She’d heard from Liam that some French theatre actors he’d met had colored nails, and apparently there was a growing trend among noblewomen of using powders to pinken their nail beds to achieve the perfect manicured look, but she had never witnessed it herself. Of course, outside of William. She’d noticed his red nails, just as she’d noticed his eyes, the evening they’d met and yet they seemed to be such a natural part of him that she never gave it much thought. A dark part of her had simply assumed that his hands had been stained by blood so often and for so long that the color had engrained itself in him as a permanent reminder of his sins. Seeing it actually being done was fascinating.

William set his wine glass down on a small table beside his chair and there Kate noticed the manicure kit. It was standard, with cuticle pushers, snips, and a nail file amongst other things. Next to it were two compacts—one containing a bloodred powder and the other that resembled a cuticle cream.

“Is this always how you color them?” Kate asked, watching in fascination as Ellis started the process by nimbly rubbing a very thin layer of cream onto William’s nail.

“Yes.” William nodded. “Sometimes my maid will do it, sometimes I’ll do it myself. Victor is actually quite skilled at it himself, but our darling Reaper has been a tad too busy of late to indulge me. I was thinking to do them myself tonight, but Ellis beat me to it.”

“I don’t mind,” Ellis reassured, working with steadfast dedication. He dabbed the red powder over the top of the cream, building up the color until it was dark and foreboding. Cleaning the bit of excess traces off William’s skin, he then went over the nail with a strip of buffer leather until it set and shone. Now that she thought about it, Jude also had perfectly manicured nails which she’d considered a bit odd before, but perhaps this was the reason why: Ellis. “There, all done.”

William took his hand back from Ellis, curling his fingers into his palm as he inspected them with a hum. “Stunning. Don’t you think so, Kate?”

She did, nodding her compliments to Ellis who was wiping his hands clean on a small towel.

“Hey, Will… How happy are you right now?”

“What do you think, my dear boy?”

“Hmmm… Very happy, but not quite enough.” Ellis’s words formed a statement rather than a question. Kate couldn’t stop her gaze from flickering to the sheathed knife strapped to Ellis’s thigh. Ever since William had explained to her the contract between Ellis and Jude, she had the sense that the right—or the wrong—answer to that particular question would result in a happy ending only for one person.

William chuckled in confirmation. “You did a fantastic job. Thank you, Ellis.”

“Anytime.” Ellis shuffled off with a small smile, quietly wishing them both goodnight before he disappeared down the hall.

With him gone, Kate moved her stool closer to William and took his hand. She skimmed her fingertips over his newly recolored nails, but her skin came back clean without any transfer. The color really was the perfect red, deep and haunting. “You know, Alfons told me I’d find you in here.”

“Is that so?”

“I wonder if he thought seeing this would make me jealous…”

“Did it?”

She paused, considering her feelings. William was so loved, so adored by so many she often felt it a wonder that of everyone who passed through his world, he’d chosen her. And in return, she always wanted to do whatever she could to make herself feel like she deserved it. “Would you mind it if I learned how to do this for you? I… I’d like to be the one you ask from now on.”

“Of course, I’d be honored.”

The sweetness in his voice made her chest warm, affection bubbling up inside her. Maybe she could practice on herself, surprise him with a matching set on their next date. Normally, something like a red manicure would draw far too much attention for her to be comfortable, but if it were for William�� There was nothing she wouldn’t do for him.

“Ah, but what if you’re not around when I’d like them touched up? Will you make me wait?”

“I don’t mind if you ask someone else then. Like Ellis, or Victor. But I’d like to be the one to do this for you when I can.”

William chuckled, slipping his hand out of hers to cup her cheek. He stroked his thumb over it, his long red nail just brushing her skin. “My robin is always so very greedy.”

“And who made me that way?” she asked with a smile, tipping her face into his touch.

“Hmm, I wonder… A man just as selfish, no doubt.”

She laughed and leaned in, catching his lips with her, just as greedily as he'd taught her to be.

#ikevil #ikemen villains #ikevil fanfic #ikevil kate #ikevil william #ikevil ellis #william rex #ellis twilight #alfons sylvatica #ikeseries #otome #william's voice clip preview and the focus on his hands makes me go feral #that man has no right to look so good #ikevil fanfiction

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mysticalmallard · 4 months ago

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Spotted

Description: a few days later Opie thinks he's spotted her walking around Charming and he has to speak to her immediately.

This is part 5 of my Opie and the waitress series.

Word Count: 2,062

Warnings: none I think

SoA Taglist: @arkytiorlecter @aimkatsz @ravennaortiz @darqchilddaydreamz @mischiefnevermanaged89-blog @hatersaremymotivators @theshynerdsworld @thefrogytimes @youngadult9016

♥︎ If you wish to be added or removed from this taglist comment or message me ♥︎

Parts:

1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 •

SoA Masterlist ♥︎ Main Masterlist ♥︎ Series Masterlist

Opie and Jax ride their Harleys through the streets of Charming, the wind whipping through their hair. Opie's mind is filled with thoughts of the waitress, as it has been for days now. He keeps replaying their meetings in his head, wondering if she ever thought about him.

Suddenly, Opie thinks he sees a glimpse of her walking down the sidewalk but he was riding too fast to be sure.

He immediately hits the brakes, skidding to a halt turning to the side of the road swerving infront of Jax.

Jax nearly crashes into him, braking hard and looking at Opie with confusion. "What the hell, Ope?" he yells.

Opie ignores him, his eyes fixed on something across the street. "I think I saw her." he says bluntly, a mix of hope and anxiety in his voice.

Jax follows his gaze. "Who?" he asks, scanning the area, but not seeing anyone.

"The waitress," Opie says urgently, whipping hes head around still looking for her. "I swear I just saw her." he mumbles.

HONK "GET OUT OF THE ROAD MORONS" an angry driver yells as Opie and Jax are still partially blocking the road.

Opie ignores the driver, too focused on trying to spot the waitress. "Come on, she was right here. I know it." he says, still scanning the sidewalk, his heart racing.

"She probably went into a store or something let's park up and wait a beat and see if you spot her again" Jax suggests.

Opie nods, realizing he can't keep sitting in the road like an idiot. He takes a few deep breaths, trying to slow his heart rate as he parks his bike, Jax following suit. They both get off their bikes, leaning against them, waiting and watching for any sign of her.

They keep their eyes on the sidewalk, watching as people pass by. Some look at the bikers with mild curiosity, others avoid their gazes altogether. Opie's heart pounds in his chest, his eyes darting everywhere, searching every face. He can feel Jax's eyes on him, but he doesn't care. He's desperate to find her, to see her beautiful face again.

Several minutes pass, and there's still no sign of the waitress. Opie's starting to feel frustrated. Could he really have been hallucinating? "Maybe I was just seeing things, man" he mutters, more to himself than to Jax. He runs a hand through his hair, feeling foolish now. He was so sure he saw her, but now he doubts himself.

Jax lights a cigarette and passes it to Opie. "You know, if you just got her number, you wouldn't be acting so crazy right now" he says grinning.

Opie shoots him a glare. "Yeah, yeah, you've made that clear enough." he huffs, taking a drag from the cigarette.

He glances down the street one more time, the disappointment starting to set in. Maybe she was just some girl who looked like her, and he had gotten his hopes up for nothing.

He sighs, shaking his head. "What am I doing, man? Why am I so obsessed with this girl? I barely know her." he murmurs, taking another drag from the cigarette.

Jax shrugs, taking the cigarette back. "You've got a damn crush, Ope. It happens to the best of us."

"Yeah, I guess I do" he sighs "you should head back I'm just gonna wait here a little longer" she says not wanting to be teased anymore.

"Hell no, you think I'm gonna miss an opportunity to see who has got you twisted up like this" Jax replies gesturing vaguely at Opie.

Opie grunts, knowing there's no point in arguing. Jax is too damn stubborn.

The two of them sit in silence for a few more minutes, still watching the sidewalk intently. Opie can feel Jax's eyes on him occasionally, and it's irritating him.

Opie's eyes widen as he sees her walking out of the pawn shop across the street.

"There she is" he mutters, straightening up, his heart racing again.

Jax follows his gaze, spotting the waitress as well. He grins, looking back at Opie. "Well, well, well. Looks like you weren't hallucinating after all, Ope." he teases.

Opie doesn't even think as he runs across the street, dodging cars and nearly getting hit. He's tunnel visioned on the waitress, determined to catch up to her. He doesn't notice the angry drivers honking at him, or Jax calling his name.

He catches up to her quickly, his long legs closing the distance between them in no time at all. He reaches out, grabbing her arm, causing her to scream, whirling around swinging her purse at him hitting him in the face the contents spilling on the ground.

Opie stumbles back, more surprised than hurt. He holds up his hands, trying to placate her. "Hey, hey, hey, relax, it's me!" he says urgently.

"Opie? Oh my god, I'm so sorry I didn't know it was you. Are you okay?" She rambles her hand on her chest in shock.

Opie rubs his jaw where the purse hit him, wincing a little. "Yeah, I'm fine. I should have thought better than to grab you like that, sorry." he mutters, still a bit dazed from the impact.

Jax jogs up to them, laughing loudly. "Damn, Ope, she got you real good with that purse" he says, practically wheezing with laughter.

Opie glares at him, still holding his jaw. "Shut up, Jax" he mutters, his face reddening in embarrassment.

He looks back at Jessica she is on the ground trying to gather her things.

He crouches down to help her, scooping up a few of the spilled contents that lie on the ground, he sees a pawn slip among the items and sighs inwardly. He hands the items back to her, his heart still thumping after the unexpected confrontation.

"Thanks," she says quietly, smiling slightly as she takes the items.

"No problem," he replies softly, their eyes meeting for a moment. He's still dazed from the unexpected encounter, and the close proximity to her. He can feel Jax watching the two of them intently.

"Ain't you gonna introduce me Ope?" Jax says a shit eating grin on his face.

Opie rolls his eyes, half annoyed and half amused by Jax's antics. "This is Jessica," he says, gesturing at her. "Jessica, this is Jax, my best friend and pain in my ass."

Opie shoots Jax a warning glare, but the damage is already done. He knows Jax is going to tease him relentlessly about this later.

Jax chuckles, sticking out his hand for her to shake. "Pleased to meet you, darlin'. I've heard a lot about you." He grins at Opie as he says this, unable to resist teasing him.

"Good things, I hope," Jessica replies politely, shaking Jax's hand with a small smile.

"Oh yeah, only good things" Jax replies, still grinning.

Opie shoots him another dark look, silently begging him not to say anything else.

Jax ignores his look, clearly enjoying himself. "Opie here hasn't stopped talking about you since the first day he met you," he adds, clearly loving the way Opie's cheeks are turning redder.

"Jax, shut the hell up," Opie mutters through gritted teeth, silently willing a hole to open up in the ground he can disappear into.

Jax laughs again, throwing his arm around Opie's shoulder. "Now, now, Ope, no need to be embarrassed. I think it's cute that you have a little crush on the pretty lady here."

Opie mutters something unintelligible under his breath, his face burning red. He tries to shake off Jax's arm to no avail. Jax's hold on him is firm and he knows he's not going to be able to get out of this without making a scene.

Jessica looks between the two, a mixture of confusion and amusement on her face.

Jax grins, enjoying himself far too much. "Looks like Ope's all tongue-tied," he says, ruffling Opie's hair. "Can't say I blame him though. You're quite the looker."

Opie grits his teeth, resisting the urge to punch Jax. He tries to ignore him, turning his attention to Jessica instead. "Uh, sorry about him. He's a little..." he mumbles, feeling mortified.

Jax grins. "Charismatic, charming, suave...?" he offers.

Opie shoots him a glare. "I was going to say he's a jackass," he mutters.

She giggles "Don't worry about it..." she stands a little awkwardly unsure what to say or do now.

Opie smiles a little at her giggle, the sound going straight to his heart. He can feel Jax's gaze on him, silently telling him to say something already. He stumbles over his words, suddenly at a loss for what to say. "Uh, I, uh..." he stutters, feeling like an idiot.

Jax snickers beside him, finding this whole thing highly entertaining. He gives Opie a not-so-subtle nudge in the ribs.

"I think Ope here wants to invite you to a party we're having at the clubhouse tonight, it just a regular Friday night bash nothing fancy"

Opie shoots Jax a look, silently cursing him. 'Real smooth, Jax' he thinks.

He swallows, turning back to Jessica, trying to look a little less like a nervous fool. "Yeah, um, we're having a party tonight. You should come," he says, trying to sound casual. The invitation comes out a little rushed.

"A party huh?...can I bring my roommate?" She asks, she likes Opie but doesn't know him or the club that well enough to feel comfortable going alone.

Opie feels a twinge of disappointment, but he understands her hesitancy. He doesn't blame her for wanting to bring someone she knows, especially around the club.

"Uh, yeah, sure," he responds trying to hide how he feels. "Bring as many people as you want. The more the merrier, right?" he adds, giving a small, forced smile.

"Great! Here" she grabs his hand and a pen from her bag. She writes her number on him being carful to write it clearly. "Text me when and where to show up and I'll be there"

Opie watches as she writes her number on him, feeling her soft hand on his skin. It's a simple act, but it sends a jolt through him. He stares at the numbers on his hand, feeling both excited and panicked.

"Uh, yeah, cool," he manages to say, his voice betraying his emotions. "I'll text you, for sure."

Jax is watching the exchange with a knowing smirk, clearly amused by how flustered Opie is. He knows this is all new ground for his best friend, and he's enjoying every minute of it.

"I've got to go I have a job interview in like 15 minutes, but I'll see you later" She mumbles looking at her watch.

"Oh, right. Yeah, good luck with that," he says, trying to hide his disappointment. A part of him wants her to stay, to keep talking, but he knows she has to go.

He watches as she turns to leave, a mixture of excitement and nerves swirling in his stomach. He manages a small smile. "I'll text you later, about the party," he reassures her.

The moment she is far enough away he punches Jax in the shoulder, hard.

"Ow!" Jax exclaims, rubbing his shoulder. "What was that for? I helped you out, didn't I? you got her number and you're gonna see her again tonight" he grins.

"Oh yeah, great job, inviting her to a party full of naked women and drunk bikers, what a wonderful first date, you've helped me out so much," Opie says sarcastically, pissed off, stalking back to his bike.

Jax follows after him, still grinning. "Come on, it'll be fun. It's a SAMCRO party. She'll have a great time. Besides everyone will love her, she's hot"

Opie glares at him, climbing on his bike. "Right, because a girl like her dreams about being around drunk, lewd bikers....oh god please tell me Tig is out of town tonight" he says cringing at the thought of Tig meeting her.

"Sorry Ope, I saw Tig earlier today. He's definitely gonna be there tonight." he grins. "You'll just have to keep him away from your gal."

Opie groans, running a hand over his face. Just what he needs, Tig hitting on Jessica. He didn't think his night could get any more complicated.

"Great, just great," he mutters. "This party is gonna be a total disaster"

Jax laughs, hopping onto his bike as well.

#opie winston oneshot #opie winston imagine #sons of anarchy #samcro #soa #sons of anarchy x reader #jax teller one shot #jax and opie #jax soa #opie winston #opie #opie soa

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thesummerstorms · 3 months ago

Text

Out of curiosity, I went ahead and compiled all the known canonical interactions between Annabeth and Athena, specifically focusing on them actually conversing or meeting in person.

(For those who are curious about the numbers but are scared off by the massive wall of text, from what I can tell Athena has directly interacted with her daughter somewhere between 4 to 8 times in her life.

Two of the " 8 " are hypothetical but not confirmed based on the existence of the Yankees cap and it's behavior before and after Heroes of Olympus. One moment I personally don't count as actually being Athena so much as Annabeth's inner voice, but is up for interpretation. And the last questionable moment is where Athena's voice does speak to her but Annabeth does not actually interact with her mom beyond hearing that.

So I would say the most solid number cannon number is probably 4. )

Possibly something happened pre-series when Annabeth first got her hat. We don't actually know how that went down. But if there's a pre series meeting, that's the most likely spot.

Nothing in TLT. Athena's presence is felt but that's because of how oriented Annabeth and her siblings are initially to Athena's presumed will

Nothing in SOM that I remember. She's following in the footsteps of her mother's favorite, but Athena herself doesn't really have a role.

They do get to meet in TTC. Athena says more or less that she's proud of Annabeth then turns around and suggests killing Thalia and Percy.

It is low key interesting to me that this is probably one of the high points in what we see of their relationship, but this announcement of Annabeth having done well is addressed to the crowd, not Annabeth herself.

Annabeth interrupts Athena to protest the first time she advocates for killing Percy, but Athena cuts her off still without speaking to her

The goddess Athena cleared her throat and sat forward. “I am proud of my daughter as well. But there is a security risk here with the other two.”

“Mother!” Annabeth said. “How can you—”

Athena cut her off with a calm but firm look.

The second time Annabeth protests is the only time Athena speaks to Annabeth directly, but the use of 'exasperated' here is interesting in setting the tone of that interaction:

“Two years for Kronos to deceive you,” Athena said. “Much can change in two years, my young hero.” “Mother!” Annabeth said, exasperated. “It is only the truth, child. It is bad strategy to keep the animal alive. Or the boy.”

Of course Percy also meets Athena here and that's about Annabeth if not with Annabeth- first Athena giving him the clue/inspiration to escape the Hoover Dam, and then Athena telling him more or less to stay away from her daughter.

When Annabeth interrupts the later conversation, Athena leaves. It does make sense in the context of 'she was literally just giving Percy the shovel talk' but it is mildly interesting that this in an opportunity where she could speak directly to her daughter- and maybe she did!- but all we see on screen is her walking away

Also the shift from Mother to Mom, which very likely is just the social context unless you want to read into that ellipsis

“Percy!” Annabeth said, running through the crowd. She stopped short when she saw who I was talking to. “Oh…Mom.” “I will leave you,” Athena said. “For now.”

They don't meet or talk in BOTL and aren't mentioned as having done so between that summer and the previous winter. Athena continues to have an important presence through her history with Daedelus and the other gods identifying Annabeth as her daughter, but doesn't actually appear.

TLO is a lot more significant not in terms of quantity of interactions, but in terms of impact. First, Athena sends a warning/strategic advice to both Percy and Annabeth via Hermes. Including more disapproval for Percy/Annabeth

"[Athena] wanted to come back herself, but Zeus was not going to let his number one strategist leave his side while we’re battling Typhon. And so naturally he sent me to talk to you.” ...

...“Please, Hermes,” Annabeth said. “You said my mother wanted to come. Did she give you any messages for us?”...

...“Bah,” Hermes said. “Your mother said to warn you that you are on your own. You must hold Manhattan without the help of the gods. As if I didn’t know that. Why they pay her to be the wisdom goddess, I’m not sure.”

“Anything else?” Annabeth asked.

“She said you should try plan twenty-three. She said you would know what that meant.”

Annabeth’s face paled. Obviously she knew what it meant, and she didn’t like it. “Go on.”

“Last thing.” Hermes looked at me. “She said to tell Percy: ‘Remember the rivers.’ And, um, something about staying away from her daughter.”

And this is of course where we get the single most positive interaction between the two of them in all of the series

Athena called, “Annabeth Chase, my own daughter.”

Annabeth squeezed my arm, then walked forward and knelt at her mother’s feet.

Athena smiled. “You, my daughter, have exceeded all expectations. You have used your wits, your strength, and your courage to defend this city, and our seat of power. It has come to our attention that Olympus is…well, trashed. The Titan lord did much damage that will have to be repaired. We could rebuild it by magic, of course, and make it just as it was. But the gods feel that the city could be improved. We will take this as an opportunity. And you, my daughter, will design these improvements.”

Annabeth looked up, stunned. “My…my lady?”

Athena smiled wryly. “You are an architect, are you not? You have studied the techniques of Daedalus himself. Who better to redesign Olympus and make it a monument that will last for another eon?”

“You mean…I can design whatever I want?”

“As your heart desires,” the goddess said. “Make us a city for the ages.”

“As long as you have plenty of statues of me,” Apollo added.

“And me,” Aphrodite agreed.

“Hey, and me!” Ares said. “Big statues with huge wicked swords and—”

“All right!” Athena interrupted. “She gets the point. Rise, my daughter, official architect of Olympus.”

We don't have much Annabeth in TLH or SON so no real opportunities for anything there. I did do a keyword search for both "mother" and "Athena" to make sure I didn't miss some reference to something that happened off screen, but I didn't see anything.

Mark of Athena... Well. I'm gonna put the cut here because obviously there's a lot to say from here on.

Right off the bat in chapter one, we take a nose dive from the high point of TLO. We see the specifics of the meeting that Annabeth is referring to later in the book, but I still feel like the first description is useful information:

Annabeth wished she could pray to her mother for guidance, but that wasn’t possible now. Not after last month, when she’d had that horrible encounter with her mom and gotten the worst present of her life.…

And we get hints again when Annabeth receives her prophecy from Ella. Again this should probably all be one singular bullet point since it's just one meeting, but I found the lead up to the reveal too interesting

“The Mark of Athena burns through Rome,” Ella continued, cupping her hands over her ears and raising her voice. “Twins snuff out the angel’s breath, Who holds the key to endless death. Giants’ bane stands gold and pale, Won through pain from a woven jail.”

The effect was like someone dropping a flash grenade on the table. Everyone stared at the harpy. No one spoke. Annabeth’s heart was pounding. The Mark of Athena…She resisted the urge to check her pocket, but she could feel the silver coin growing warmer—the cursed gift from her mother. Follow the Mark of Athena. Avenge me.

She tells Percy about it eventually, though not in moment by moment detail

A sense of dread settled over [Percy]. “Why? Have you seen Athena?”

She didn’t meet his eyes. “A few weeks ago,” she admitted. “It…it wasn’t good. She didn’t seem like herself. Maybe it’s the Greek/Roman schizophrenia that Nemesis described. I’m not sure. She said some hurtful things. She said I had failed her.”

“Failed her?” Percy wasn’t sure he’d heard her right. Annabeth was the perfect demigod child. She was everything a daughter of Athena should be. “How could you ever—?”

“I don’t know,” she said miserably. “On top of that, I’ve been having nightmares of my own. They don’t make as much sense as yours.”

Then we finally get the details of Annabeth's interaction with Minerva/Athena. And it is identified as being Minerva however...

Minerva is the way she is because she recognizes herself as a reduction/fragment of Athena. Like explicitly she talks about what the Romans have "done to her" in changing her from the Greek Athena to the Roman Minerva. She gets mad when Annabeth calls her Minerva even.

Minerva's anger and violence are rooted in her internal indenfication with her past as Athena and her hatred for what the Romans did to the Greeks specifically. Minerva and Athena are deeply intertwined.

We also still count Nico and Hazel & Thalia and Jason as being siblings despite the Greek/Roman divide.

I will give you the fact that Minerva doesn't recognize Annabeth here and her judgement is impacted. But IMO I don't think it's fair to 100% disconnect this conversation from Athena even if it is Minerva in this scene. And it is a doozy of a scene.

She had just passed Sweet on America, the candy shop where Percy’s mom used to work, and was thinking about going inside to buy some blue candy for old times’ sake, when she saw Athena studying the subway map on the wall.

“Mother!” Annabeth couldn’t believe it. She hadn’t seen her mom in months—not since Zeus had closed the gates of Olympus and forbidden all communication with demigods. Many times, Annabeth had tried to call on her mom anyway, pleading for guidance, sending up burnt offerings with every meal at camp. She’d had no response. Now here was Athena, dressed in jeans and hiking boots and a red flannel shirt, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders. She held a backpack and a walking stick like she was prepared for a long journey.

“I must return home,” Athena murmured, studying the map. “The way is complex. I wish Odysseus were here. He would understand.”

“Mom!” Annabeth said. “Athena!” The goddess turned. She seemed to look right through Annabeth with no recognition.

“That was my name,” the goddess said dreamily. “Before they sacked my city, took my identity, made me this.” She looked at her clothes in disgust. “I must return home.”

Annabeth stepped back in shock. “You’re…you’re Minerva?”

“Don’t call me that!” The goddess’s gray eyes flared with anger. “I used to carry a spear and a shield. I held victory in the palm of my hand. I was so much more than this.”

“Mom.” Annabeth’s voice trembled. “It’s me, Annabeth. Your daughter.”

“My daughter…” Athena repeated. “Yes, my children will avenge me. They must destroy the Romans. Horrible, dishonorable, copycat Romans. Hera argued that we must keep the two camps apart. I said, No, let them fight. Let my children destroy the usurpers.”

Annabeth’s heartbeat thumped in her ears. “You wanted that? But you’re wise. You understand warfare better than any—”

“Once!” the goddess said. “Replaced. Sacked. Looted like a trophy and carted off—away from my beloved homeland. I lost so much. I swore I would never forgive. Neither would my children.”

She focused more closely on Annabeth. “You are my daughter?”

“Yes.” The goddess fished something from the pocket of her shirt—an old-fashioned subway token—and pressed it into Annabeth’s hand. “Follow the Mark of Athena,” the goddess said. “Avenge me.”

Annabeth had looked at the coin. As she watched, it changed from a New York subway token to an ancient silver drachma, the kind used by Athenians. It showed an owl, Athena’s sacred animal, with an olive branch on one side and a Greek inscription on the other.

The Mark of Athena.

At the time, Annabeth had had no idea what it meant. She didn’t understand why her mom was acting like this. Minerva or not, she shouldn’t be so confused.

“Mom…” She tried to make her tone as reasonable as possible. “Percy is missing. I need your help.”

She had started to explain Hera’s plan for bringing the camps together to battle Gaea and the giants, but the goddess stamped her walking stick against the marble floor.

“Never!” she said. “Anyone who helps Rome must perish. If you would join them, you are no child of mine. You have already failed me.”

“Mother!”

“I care nothing about this Percy. If he has gone over to the Romans, let him perish. Kill him. Kill all the Romans. Find the Mark, follow it to its source. Witness how Rome has disgraced me, and pledge your vengeance.”

“Athena isn’t the goddess of revenge.” Annabeth’s nails bit into her palms. The silver coin seemed to grow warmer in her hand. “Percy is everything to me.”

“And revenge is everything to me,” the goddess snarled. “Which of us is wiser?”

“Something is wrong with you. What’s happened?”

“Rome happened!” the goddess said bitterly. “See what they have done, making a Roman of me. They wish me to be their goddess? Then let them taste their own evil. Kill them, child.”

“No!”

“Then you are nothing.” The goddess turned to the subway map. Her expression softened, becoming confused and unfocused. “If I could find the route…the way home, then perhaps—But, no. Avenge me or leave me. You are no child of mine.”

Annabeth’s eyes stung. She thought of a thousand horrible things she wanted to say, but she couldn’t. She had turned and fled.

She’d tried to throw away the silver coin, but it simply reappeared in her pocket, the way Riptide did for Percy. Unfortunately, Annabeth’s drachma had no magical powers—at least nothing useful. It only gave her nightmares, and no matter what she tried, she couldn’t get rid of it.

And to my point earlier, even if fans want to pin this interaction on just Minerva, Annabeth still clearly identifies it as being an interaction with her mother, even well after she knows about the Greek/Roman divide.

Since Annabeth’s argument with Athena, the cap had lost its magic. Annabeth wasn’t sure why, but she’d stubbornly brought it along on the quest. Every morning she would try it on, hoping it would work again. So far it had only served as a reminder of her mother’s wrath.

She then hears her mother's voice in the civil war fort. To be fair, this is not actually a conversation so much as her hearing her mother's voice, and it is implied by Aphrodite that this might be subconscious but I'm still counting it for the purpose of record keeping.

Gaea’s voice faded. On the far wall, in the center of the spider swarm, a red symbol blazed to life: the figure of an owl like the one on the silver drachma, staring straight at Annabeth. Then, just as in her nightmares, the Mark of Athena burned across the walls, incinerating the spiders until the room was empty except for the smell of sickly sweet ashes. Go, said a new voice—Annabeth’s mother. Avenge me. Follow the Mark.

We do get mention of a 'voice' when Annabeth is on the quest. I do not personally interpret it as being Athena, and Annabeth seems to dismiss that possibility after a moment, but since the possibility is raised and not conclusively answered, I am including it for completeness' sake

You’ve got your intelligence, a voice said. Annabeth wondered if Athena was speaking to her, but that was probably just wishful thinking.

Not getting a full quote here, but notably there's no sign of an interaction from Athena either when Annabeth tells Arachne that the spider-woman is better than Athena OR when Annabeth prays:

"But the Athena Parthenos was free. Please wake up, Annabeth begged the statue. Mother, help me.

I wasn't in any way expecting Athena to react to that prayer, and I know 'divine laws' is the normal explanation but I am genuinely interested in what makes this moment from Percy at the arch. Not sarcastically, I just wish we had a little bit clearer of an idea of how things worked.

Then we finally get to House of Hades, where Annabeth is of course in Tartarus. To the best of my knowledge, her only direct interaction with Athena is through one of the demigod 's prophetic dreams where Athena praises her and then gives her another task/warning.

In the darkness below stood Reyna, the praetor of New Rome. Her cloak was the color of blood fresh from a vein. Her gold armor glinted. She stared up, her face regal and distant, and spoke directly into Annabeth’s mind.

You have done well, Reyna said, but the voice was Athena’s. The rest of my journey must be on the wings of Rome

. The praetor’s dark eyes turned as gray as storm clouds.

I must stand here, Reyna told her. The Roman must bring me.

In terms of plot/timing this really does make sense as a very short/driven/focused conversation. Please do not take this as me saying they should have had a mother-daughter therapy session here.

But what makes the content of this dream stand out more is that as far as I know, it's the only time Athena ever acknowledges the Mark of Athena quest at all when talking to her daughter, and the closest they come to discussing Tartarus. Which they didn't.

BOO doesn't have anything written from Annabeth or Percy's point of view, reducing what we are able to know about Annabeth and Athena. They do fight together, just like the other members of the seven and their parents, but it's from Jason's point of view so we get a distant observation with no emotion or dialogue attached.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jason saw Annabeth fighting Enceladus. At her side stood a woman with long dark hair and golden armor over her white robes. The goddess thrust her spear at the giant, then brandished her shield with the fearsome bronzed visage of Medusa. Together, Athena and Annabeth drove Enceladus back into the nearest wall of metal scaffolding, which collapsed on top of him.

Afterwards, we get a description of Athena interacting with Hermes, who is apparently trying to ignore her, but nothing with Annabeth. They both participate in the conversation with Zeus, but don't speak or respond to one another.

Annabeth is not a focus in any of the books of TOA, so of course there are no interactions there.

She may or may not have mentioned something that happened off-screen in the Magnus Chase books, but I don't know since I haven't read them. I wouldn't bet on it.

Finally, as of the writing of this post, the last PJO book we have is Chalice of the Gods. Athena interacts directly with Percy on screen, but not Annabeth. It is very strongly suggested that Athena assists Percy for Annabeth's sake.

We do get a mention of Annabeth's hat working again (as Percy needs it for the plot) and then there is a mention of it now causing discomfort to the user and Athena doing it on purpose to remind her child that power has a price.

We know for a fact that it did NOT work this way when Percy used it in either TLT or TTC. I would put my money on Rick just...forgetting that

but from an in universe context we might take it to imply Athena added a price to the use of the gift after Heroes of Olympus and somehow explained her reasoning to Annabeth. (I will leave my emotions about this scene for a different post.)

“Thanks for the loan of the Yankees cap, by the way,” I said. “You never told me it makes you uncomfortable when you wear it.”

She gave me a one-shoulder shrug. “All power has a price. Even being invisible. My mom taught me that a long time ago.” She sounded wistful, maybe a little sad, but not resentful.

She had apparently accepted the way the world worked according to Athena, even if she didn’t always agree, even if it sometimes didn’t make any more sense than Annabeth’s math homework did to me.

I have seen some people use all the above points from COG to suggest that Athena and Annabeth fully reconciled off screen. I personally hate that, but I don't think it's an unfair reading. It is a possibility. I wouldn't say the text confirms that definitively though.

#annabeth chase #pjo #percy jackson #Athena

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