#so i guess those people count as ocs? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

onlyswan · 8 months ago

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summary: in which the sweet ache of yearning metamorphoses into the art of intimacy and knowing.

idol!jk x reader, est. relationship / fluffy fluff, a dash of angst, explicit content (minors dni!!) / word count: 10.5k

warnings/content: divided into seven parts. it’s like a timeline hehe <3 ; mainly in jk’s pov!! ; underaged drinking (oc is 18 in that part but the legal age of drinking in sk is 19 so!) ; mention of almost? n*des (neither sent by our mcs) ; making out ; thigh grinding ; brief or*l (f. rec + allusions to m. rec) ; mention and allusion to s*x [yesyes it’s the first time] [oc may or may not cry a little too…] ; they have a ‘what if i die before you?’ discourse lmao

playlist! restless - bibi ; lily of the valley - daniel ; who do you love - the black skirts ; intro (end of the world) - ariana grande ; snow - josh makazo

> in which masterlist!

note: look at my gorjus ethereal bf !!!! anyway… hi, i’m back ^_^ here’s my not so little offering to those who’s been missing the iw couple <3 as always i��d love to hear your thoughts :") come chat!!

—

I. THE FALLING

“just stay the night.” you blurt out, turning to jungkook to express your worry. “i can’t let you leave right now. it’s not safe.”

his wide eyes scan the headline of the news once more.

heavy snowfall, road accident, several injured… versus staying the night at the apartment of not quite his friend, not quite his lover, for the first time.

he can’t deny that he favors the latter over the former with an explicable feeling rendering him breathless. still, he can’t allow his enthusiasm to cloud his better judgement. he knows he’s still somewhat of a stranger to you. he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome or make you feel uncomfortable in your own space.

“are you sure you’re comfortable with it?”

“sure. should i be worried?“

“no! uhm, i just thought not everyone would be comfortable to have a person they’re not very close with to sleep over.”

you chuckle, lightly bumping your shoulder against his. “chill. i have bigger things to be scared of than the guy who just cried with me while watching an anime movie.”

oh… he thought you were too absorbed in wiping your own tears to notice him crying too.

he slumps back on the sofa with a sigh. “i see. i guess we’re left with no choice then.”

“i have an extra toothbrush!”

—

jungkook doesn’t quite understand people’s obsession with his eyes, but getting enamored by the innocence that yours seem to glisten with, he wonders if he is experiencing the same case.

“can you see if this fits you?”

you stand before him with a stack of neatly folded clothes, unraveling a pair of gray sweatpants to hold up infront of him.

“i think… there’s a string? oh, there’s none.”

he chuckles. “you forgot?”

“well, it’s not mine. my ex never came back for his clothes.“ you huff with a roll of your eyes, muttering a silent his loss into the air. “i’ve washed it though! don’t worry! it’s just- you know- sleeping in denim pants is uncomfortable.”

does that mean you still wear the clothes of your exes? this pisses him off for some unknown reason. he would much rather sleep uncomfortably than wear their clothes.

you kindly smile, pushing the black knitted sweater against his chest. “but this is mine. it’s really warm and comfortable!”

but on another note, you’re too sweet and thoughtful. how could he ever say no?

—

the sweatpants is a little loose around his waist. your sweater, however, feels incredibly soft against his skin. as he walks back into the living room, he pulls down his sweater paws and runs his hands across its sleeves. if he had to describe the feeling it evokes, he would say it is very much similar to rolling around on freshly washed and dried bedsheets.

“it’s nice, right?”

he whips his head around upon hearing the sound of your voice. for a quick second, you caress his arm with the back of your hand, and even with the barrier separating your skin from his, the casual touch causes his breath to hitch.

“i finished cleaning the room. i set up a comforter on the floor so you can take the bed.”

“is that so? thank you!”

he zooms past you. you’re left standing alone, blinking in confusion. he is more than happy to welcome himself into your bedroom… so he can slyly steal the bed you prepared for yourself. he slides under the covers, makes himself all cozy with his hands resting on the back of his head as if it’s not a raging winter and he’s lying under the summer sun.

“and what do we have here?”

jungkook cracks one eye open. there you are leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed. you raise your eyebrows at him, demanding an answer.

“what?” he smiles childishly. “you’re the one doing me a favor. i’m not going to let you sleep on the floor.”

“how polite. suit yourself, sir.” you shake your head in amusement, smiling.

you enter the room, flicking the lightswitch off and locking the door at the speed of light. without thinking, probably; muscle memory formed by your routine. he is the only thing not a part of it. yet.

“goodnight, jungkook.”

“goodnight.”

he still sees you moving around in the dark. you crouch down beside him and he feels the extra pillow he’s partially crushing under his weight be jerked away all of a sudden.

“i need this one. sorry.” you whisper-shout apologetically. “goodnight! sweet dreams!”

—

jungkook sighs, tired of mindlessly scrolling through social media. his eyes flutter shut as he allows his phone to collapse on his chest. he is yet to even figure out if going to work later would be possible because of the blocked roads. he has gotten enough earful about not heading straight to the dorm and he cannot risk any more. because then, he would have to see less of you.

he sneakily opens his eyes, craning his head to the side to steal a glance of you, but he finds that you’ve already fallen asleep on your textbook and he’s unable to look away again. bathed in the warm light of the lampshade on your bedside, he has never seen you more peaceful. he learns with hard evidence that you’re a side sleeper, curled up underneath the blanket and cutely snuggled against the pillow you took from him.

he doesn’t know how long he’s been admiring you, but he knows he doesn’t want you to think of him as a creep. you stir in your sleep and his hand swiftly flies to his phone. pretending to be absorbed in reading the first tweet he comes across, he tries taking another subtle glimpse of you.

it’s as if he’s been caught and punished.

he flinches.

your textbook collides with the floor, landing only inches next to his pillow. he begins sweating. he could’ve easily gotten a concussion at best, death at worst.

he sits up with his elbows anchoring him, poking around to investigate the cause of the fall. admittedly, he’s a little sad to see your back now facing him.

“shit, what am i doing?” he roughly rubs his face to knock some sense back into him.

he needs to get some sleep. yeah, that’s it. nothing more.

he picks up your textbook, taking it upon himself to bring it over to your desk. on his way back, he also decides to to turn off the lampshade.

his finger freezes on the button, however. he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip to silence the giggle that threatens to escape him— so fucking endeared to discover that you’ve kicked off your blanket and rolled over to your other side along with the pillow, your thigh carelessly slumped over it.

he tucks himself back into bed, heart feeling all warm and fuzzy.

“so, so adorable.”

the words escape him without thought; the smile on his face ever-present even as he drifts off to dreamland.

—

II. ALLOW ME TO LINGER BY THE DOOR

“hey, it’s getting late. shouldn’t you be heading home by now?”

you sit beside jungkook on the sofa after a phone call, and his round eyes grow twice their size when you steal the iced tea from his grasp, nonchalant as your lips wrap around the same red straw his have been only seconds ago.

he awkwardly clears his throat, perhaps to mask his loud heartbeat. “is your friend okay?”

“oh, she’ll be fine. it’s her fault so i can’t do much for her this time.” you shrug, picking up your chopsticks as you eye the last dumpling in the bowl. “still hate that guy, though.”

“the one you think is lying about being rich?”

“i don’t know much about real ones, but i’m pretty sure i’ve seen enough fake diamonds!”

that seems to hits the right spot to elevate your mood. you hum happily as you chew, collapsing on the cushions and looking straight ahead at the television screen.

“sorry about that. you must be bored and tired by now.”

“about that…” jungkook swallows his nervousness. he rests his arm on top of the sofa, just to act cool. he’s so close to you yet still so distant. “i’m dead tired from filming today. i’ve been up since four in the morning. would it be too much trouble if i spend the night again?”

“i should be the one asking you that. why do you like this trashy place way more than i do?” you shake your head, wiping your mouth with a paper napkin. “i’ll go fix up so you can rest then. you’re lucky minji didn’t claim the bed first.”

fuck, he was supposed to get kicked out?

“wait! do you need a change of clothes?”

“there’s no need!” he replies a little too quickly. if he has to wear the clothes of another one of your exes, he might end up on the news for setting himself on fire. “i have extras in my backpack i didn’t got to wear today.”

“oh, okay.” you flash him a smile before disappearing into the bedroom.

yeah, how convenient.

he exhales through his mouth.

when did he start lying? his mother would be very disappointed in him. but on the other hand, his father would explode in boisterous laughter and pat him on the back. nevermind… that just makes it worse.

“guess i’m going to hell!” he shrugs, wearing a smile that is rather too jubilant.

he grabs his backpack on the floor and heads to the bathroom; your home is another home away from home.

—

jungkook is exhausted from dance practice. he must’ve exerted himself too hard again without realizing it. for the third time this week, he’s attaching pain relief patches to his neck and shoulders, shirt pulled to the side as to expose the area. normally, he’d just take it off without care, but he’s in a different setting. while he’s pretty confident with the current condition of his body, it would be rude to strip out of nowhere. and you make him nervous. would he fluster you or would you fluster him? he’s not prepared to find out yet.

“are you okay?”

his movements from below capture your attention amidst catching up to the events in your group chats.

“i’m okay, just a little sore. don’t worry!” he waves off your concern with a scrunch of his nose. “i also fell asleep in the car earlier so…”

“i can give you a massage. if you want.”

“no, it’s fine.” even though the offer sounds extremely tempting, especially coming from you. “i know you’re tired too.”

“hm, your loss. i’m kind of an expert at it.”

he squints his eyes at you. “really?”

“you don’t believe me?”

you sit up on the bed with an offended gasp, and he laughs at how you quite literally rose up to the challenge.

“we do have actual experts come in and take care of us too, you know that?”

“excuse you, i’m an actual expert! i have more than a decade of experience!”

he isn’t surprised to witness you climb down immediately afterwards, sitting behind him with your hands already on his shoulders.

“hmm, my dad worked at construction sites. my mom had a desk job. this- this was my job.” your fingers begin pressing down as if you’re assessing him, touching the bare skin of his still exposed shoulder. “got paid with extra allowance. making money was easy back then.”

“you’re so adorab- ah, ah, ah-” his sentence is cut short by his own self when you apply pressure on a big knot, gently massaging it in small circles to loosen the tightly wound muscle fibers. “fuck, it hurts… yeah, that’s good. don’t stop.”

he hears you snort, feels your forehead collapse on his back as vibrant giggles rack your body. a blush of red creeps up to his cheeks and he’s thankful that you can’t see his face.

he laughs along, belly aching. “okay, okay- i heard it! i should keep my mouth shut!”

“no no no, i won’t laugh anymore!”

“you’re still doing it right now!”

“i’ll stop!” you sniffle, laughed to the point of tears. you squeeze his shoulders. “just relax! you’re so tense here, see? no wonder it hurts.”

there’s no denying that his body is pushed to its limits everyday; he has grown accustomed of this kind of lifestyle and he doesn’t complain. you’re making him want to do it all the time, though. if it means getting pampered like this? hell yeah.

“it hurts here too. over- over here-” he reaches a hand to his back, patting the area that has been bothering him all day. “this part. will you make it go away, please?”

“here? your shoulder blade?”

“yes!”

“okay. tell me if i should go gentler or harder. i don’t want to hurt you.”

it’s his turn to snort. he shortly learns that was not a smart move.

“ah, ah, ah-” you pull at his ear and this time he moans in pain. “oh, come on! you gave that one away!”

“shut up! you’re not allowed to laugh too!”

—

he tries not to create more embarrassing sounds. at some point he begun to busy himself with his phone, but to no avail, there are occasional moans and grunts he can’t bite down because you weren’t lying about being a pretty damn good masseur. and then he does it on purpose once, just to hear you laugh again, because his being already feels a million times lighter and you show no signs of exhaustion or boredom.

“you have a mole here,” you casually observe. he feels a light touch on the side of his neck and the butterflies in his stomach become untamed. “it’s sexy.”

he blushes, caught off guard by the compliment. “thank you.”

“you’re welcome.” you hum.

the minutes pass by and he is no longer faking silence, however. all he can think about now is how he wishes that he was lying down for this. how long has it been? you’ve been definitely at it for almost an hour. he yawns, eyelids fighting to stay open but failing miserably.

“hey, wipe your drool.”

he blinks. your beautiful face greets him— for a second, he’s convinced that he has begun dreaming. with a mischievous grin, you lift the collar of his shirt to wipe the corners of his lips, and in a state of near delirium, he cackles.

“seriously, thank you… i-i don’t even know what to say. i really needed that.” he sighs, carelessly rubbing his heavy eyes. “i’ll treat you to dinner tomorrow. how about that?”

“sounds good. now go to sleep.” you pat his back before rising on your feet. “your head kept on dropping and i felt bad.”

“that happens a lot.”

“well, it’s bad for your neck. keep doing it and i’ll get more free dinners.”

the unmistakable sound of a kiss that follows, it suspiciously matches with the warmth that lingers on his cheek.

“goodnight!”

“goodnight…” he only manages to mumble.

his mind has gone off to space. you tuck yourself into your bed after turning off the lampshade while jungkook feels like he just got blasted to the moon. he needs to get out of here. STAT.

“i’ll go drink some water. do you want me to get you a glass?”

“no, i’m fine.”

he makes out your figure shuffling in the dark, snuggled closely to a pillow.

he nods, which you probably didn’t even see. he steps out of the room as quietly as possible, slowly closing the door as to produce the smallest click. he pads to the kitchen still feeling light, almost like he’s walking on a path made out of clouds. he pours himself a glass of cold water from the fridge, chugs it down to the very last drop.

he licks his lips as he sets down the glass on the counter. he sighs deeply. he can still feel the outline of your lips, sticky lip balm printed on his skin. is it normal that he couldn’t be bothered to wipe it off?

“totally worth going to hell for.” he muses, unaware of the smirk that has started playing on his lips.

he briskly washes the glass at the sink, wiping it dry with a towel before deposting it back into the rack.

as expected, you’ve already fallen asleep by the time that he returns. the light from the hallway casts a glow over your face and it’s a sight that is painfully intimate in its own peculiar way.

he can’t put a name to it, but whatever this feeling is, he likes it and he wants it to last.

and so, he lingers by the door for a few seconds more.

—

III. THE YEARNING

jungkook hisses your name with yet another curse, heart so close to jumping out of his chest. when you were on the phone incoherently begging him to take you home from the club, he expected to carry out a passed out person from his car to their apartment floor, which he found no problem with aside from the possibility of having to deal with them throwing up.

instead, he is struck by an unusual combination of amusement and distress. he has been running around trying to capture you as you spend your final bursts of energy ringing strangers’ doorbells. your exhilarated laughter echoes throughout the hallways. he must confess that he was laughing along with you the first time… until it started to get a little bit out of hand.

if someone recognizes him by chance, he would be beyond fucked.

“don’t- don't do it! stop it! please!” he finally manages to seize your wrist before it can reach another, forced to wrap his arms around your torso so you won’t escape from him again. “are you crazy? it’s 3am! people are sleeping!”

“that’s the point.” you mewl, looking back to him with a childish pout underneath the hood of your coat. “why are they sleeping? it’s when the ghosts come out. does no one ever think about ghosts’ feelings? because i do! if i were a ghost, i’d be lonely and crying right now!”

oh my god, what is happening?

“so let’s invite them and everyone for more drinks!” you jump up and down, his secure hold doesn’t hold a candle to your hypernese. “jungkook, i want to drink more! more more more! buy me!”

unfortunately, he doesn’t have the time to dwell on your cuteness. he hears a door click from behind and his instincts instantaneously kick in. oh shit, you actually fucking woke someone up. he sweeps you off your feet, clasping a hand over your mouth to mute your angry protests. he turns at a corner, trapping you against the wall.

a deep and manly voice fills the silence. “hello? who’s there?”

two pairs of eyes widen, staring at each other as if they can read minds through them. he notices the unsteady rise and fall of your chest; your heart must be beating as fast as his. he has to pull down his black mask to be able to breathe.

“you’re going to be the death of me.” he grumbles with a pointed look.

when you smile, he perceives it first through the palm of his hand before it reaches your eyes. only then does he fully register the dangerously close proximity between you.

dangerous because he wants to kiss you.

dangerous because you’d dare him to do it and his self-control has been reduced to a million cracks.

“ah, this prank again! fucking teenagers!”

and the door slams shut. you both flinch.

“that guy has a fridge full of beer!”

you are vexed, voice muffled but still clearly loud. you harshly paw at his forearm to remove his hand, and your pout finally comes into view.

“no, you’ve had enough! seriously, what am i going to do with you? huh? you shouldn’t even be drinking at all.” he blows a loud breath, frustratedly running his fingers through his hair. “how did you even get in the club? fake id? you have it, don’t you?”

you rush to defend yourself. “i’m only younger by a year and i don’t look like it! as if they actually care in those places. they only want money.”

he begins to question if the bloodshot of your eyes is solely because of the alcohol or you’re also on the verge of tears.

“why? are you mad at me?”

“no, i’m not mad. should i be?”

“…i don’t know. why do you even care about things like that? you’re not my boyfriend or my parent so i don’t need to explain myself to you.” you angrily ramble, wriggling out of the tight spot he had you trapped in.

and that felt like a fucking dagger to the heart.

“you know what? i-i can do this. i can take care of myself, so go home.”

“____, don’t be like this, please. you’re drunk.”

“i’m not drunk, just tipsy! you can go home!”

he runs after you, but you shrug him off and continue walking away, perhaps a little too fast. he curses himself when he catches up to you seconds too late, witnessing you fall over to the floor with a thump and a whimper.

“are you okay?! where does it hurt?!”

you shake your head profusely, but your hands gripping your ankle gives away the answers. he doesn’t press you further. without another word, he hooks an arm under your knees and the other under your back, swooping you from the floor. he stands up straight, adjusts your position slightly, and walks the path you attempted to travel alone in your intoxicated state.

perhaps he is mad. he went and abandoned his rest time when you said that you needed him, only for you to rudely send him home. he has the right to be mad, even just a little bit, despite the fact that he isn’t your boyfriend, right?

not that it matters.

you cling to his neck and it all melts away.

he glances down at you. a soft smile has replaced your frown. “oh, so now you’re happy again?”

“yes,” you tilt your head. “feels like i’m floating.”

“where’s your key?”

“huh?”

“your key-”

“oh!”

you dig out the item from the pocket of your coat. you proudly dangle it infront of his face along with the colorful keychains attached to it; the bear was gifted by yours truly from japan. he totally forgot that it existed. the last time he saw it was when he tossed it in the paper bag he gave you.

he’s not even your boyfriend. the two of you know that doesn’t make sense anymore.

—

after he sets you down on the sofa, he kneels on the floor to remove the heels from your aching feet. he gets the hang of it after unfastening the second strap. while he’s preoccupied, you strip off your coat to combat the increased temperature of your body.

“i need to pee.” you urgently kick off the heels as you rise on your feet.

jungkook looks up and forgets how to breathe. you are irresistibly gorgeous; the cherry red mid-thigh dress you’ve been hiding from him hugs your body so perfectly. he’s ensnared and thoroughly convinced that you’re aware of your power to leave men and women alike sweating and tongue-tied.

goddammit, he is mad. you were at the club looking like this among flashing lights and grinding bodies and he is not your boyfriend.

“doesn’t your ankle hurt?”

“doesn’t matter. i need to pee.”

he clicks his tongue as you limp your way towards the bathroom.

“you’re so hardheaded.”

he lifts up your arm to bring it over his shoulders; he holds your waist to assist you.

“and your heart is so soft.” you giggle, and his world stops when you hold his face… peppering his cheek with an amount of kisses he doesn’t have half the mind to count.

you said you’re not drunk, just tipsy. does that mean you genuinely like him this much and you’ll remember it when you wake up?

dear god, he hopes so.

—

jungkook is supposed to wake up in four hours. however, he’s still wide awake sitting by your pillow, mind completely blank on what he’s supposed to do now that you’re safe and sound. he can’t bring himself to leave just yet. you bump against his knee as you shuffle and squirm, eyes closed but yet to land in the confines of slumber. he can hear your rugged and frustrated breathing, can’t help but to hopelessly adore how pretty you are even with knitted eyebrows and tousled hair.

he likes you so much. he knows it hasn’t been that long since you met but the thought of losing the chance of winning you over makes him want to cry and throw a tantrum. you’re running in his mind day and night. you have permeated all his senses. you charm him with your unapologetic existence and you effortlessly captivate his ungiven affections.

when it comes to love, his passion becomes a weakness.

a whine emits from your parted lips as if you sense that something is wrong. your hands pat around the mattress— searching and searching, until they stumble upon him. you push yourself up, head landing on the pillow, and your arms, they hug him close by his waist. only then do you finally come to a still, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

you are at peace and he is experiencing an emotional turmoil— falling in love. this is simply not fair.

the lines are becoming so blurry. he is losing control of his hands, hyperaware of what he is capable with his possession of them. he strokes your head gently, hair brushing across his palm— this is soothing to him as much as it is you.

this feels right, he thinks. he wants time to stretch from this galaxy to another.

he feels a weak tug at his sweater.

“i’m cold now,” your complaint comes out mumbled against the thick fabric.

next thing he knows you’re pulling him down by his collar, leaving him with no choice but to lie down beside you as to not crush you under his weight. where the hell did you gather the strength to do that?!

he hisses in panic. “yah! what are you doing?”

“i’m cold,” you repeat.

“____, we’re lying down on the blanket. if you can just scoot over for a seco- i’ll take it out. move-”

his attempts on communicating to you only fall on deaf ears. he zips his mouth to admit defeat.

you cling to him for warmth, and jungkook finds himself giving more than that. he volunteers his arm to be your pillow, softly cupping the back of your head as you nuzzle your face on his chest; his other arm wraps around your torso to keep you close. it is quite a tight fit on a single bed— he figures out a lame excuse for later.

now he can say for certain that you’re hearing his heartbeat, but he doesn’t seem to care anymore. he also doesn’t mind the scent of alcohol because it’s tragically losing the battle against your sweet perfume. it renders him enchanted. and the dress… that hypnotizing dress. he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to banish the sinful thoughts flooding his imagination.

he didn’t peg you to be the physically affectionate type, but seeing that you can’t sleep without hugging something, someone— he wants to be just the thing that you cherish as your safe haven. he wants this memory to be cute… and romantic. but too much heavy on the romance, you affect his body and heart in ways no one can.

he tries to will his growing erection to ebb away. it’s not an appropriate situation. he likes and respects you too much.

“my makeup…”

you said it so quietly, he almost believed he was making it up in his head.

“what was that?”

“will you- please, will you help me take off my makeup? it’s bothering me.” you make one final request at the depths of drowsiness, speech slurred and stuttered. “the wipes… the drawer behind you.”

he should’ve thought of that. he’s learning. next time, he will.

he settles into his previous position after grabbing the wipes.

“how do i help? is it okay if i d-”

he interrupts his question when he realizes that you’ve finally fallen asleep.

his sigh momentarily fills the defeaning silence of the night. the exhaustion has also begun to take a toll on him. he’s going to have to catch up on sleep during car rides and set breaks. he’s already dreading it as he’s planning around their hectic schedule.

as he wipes off your makeup as carefully as possible, he mutters into the thin air. “you owe me a massage for this.”

—

IV. HAPPINESS OUTSIDE DAYDREAMS

“you’re my boyfriend now and you don’t sleep on the floor anymore. how cute is that?” you happily think out loud, swinging your feet dangling at the edge of the bed. “but if you want to go back to our old ways… my bed is small even for me.”

“no way. are you kidding?!” he jokingly protests in an angry manner. “your bed is perfect.”

jungkook is on cloud nine. it sure does feel good to hear you sound so happy calling him your boyfriend, even more so to reap its special privileges.

“i keep forgetting to ask. which side do you prefer?”

you’re sat facing the door. “i don’t know, but i’m used to sleeping here.”

“alright. i’ll stay here.” he climbs under the covers, spreading his arms once his back hits the mattress. the smirk on his face widens. “come here, baby.”

a grunt slips past his lips when you jump into his arms without warning, eventually falling over to the side when he moves to envelope you in his embrace.

“you’re so warm.” you purr in contentment as you bury your face against his chest. “i love cuddling so much.”

“i’ve noticed,” he replies. he softly squeezes your exposed thigh after you slump your leg over his hip to maximize your comfort. “your pillow must be softer than me though.”

“no, i like you more… cuddling is proven to have health benefits, you know?”

he quirks an eyebrow. “oh really? give me examples.”

“it releases happy chemicals in the brain… it apparently also helps to lower blood pressure and heart rate, and it-” you fail to stifle a sleepy yawn, hands grasping the cloth of his shirt and forming closed fists. “…improves one’s quality of sleep.”

“i can see it’s working well for you.” he chuckles.

“is it for you?”

“mhmm, yes,” he presses his lips to your forehead. “i’m happy. there’s only happy chemicals in my brain right now.”

jungkook means it wholeheartedly and it feels strange. he doesn’t feel happy in this moment alone. this happiness is colossal and there’s not nearly enough hours in a day to take it all in. this happiness will still be here when he wakes up tomorrow, and the day after that. this happiness stays with him even when you’re not physically present. you’ve turned him into an optimistic fool but it’s not always that he experiences an attraction this strong.

he’s smitten and he can’t hide it. the people who are around him everyday sees it on his face; he doesn’t even need to say it out loud. all that corny shenanigans about romance giving you a certain type of glow is apparently true, it turns out.

“kissing is said to have the same effects, actually.”

your coyness captivates him from his thoughts.

he draws back slightly, the glint of mischief in his eyes mirroring yours. “where do you learn these things?”

“through reading and experience.” you shrug innocently. “want to test that out too?”

you’re everywhere. he can taste your lips, your tongue; your body wash floods his sense of smell with a sweet and clean scent, plus something else he can’t quite name. he can only it describe as you. your hair is tangled in his fingers and your hands… so delicate and teasing with every touch, it feels like being electrified. it still feels incredibly chilly outside but heat is radiating off his skin. he needs to peel himself off you before he loses his last shred of self-control.

“baby…” he whispers, lips only a couple inches from yours. he takes your hand in a tender hold, placing it over his racing heartbeat. “i’m not sure about this one being good for my health.”

“but it is. you just burnt some calories.” you smile, wiping the sweat that has started to form on his forehead. “should we stop?”

he feels his cheeks become more flushed, but his craving for you has overtaken his shyness. he might as well be drunk; intoxicated by you.

“no.” he refuses, conflicted and almost pained. “i can’t…”

he gets rid of the distance between your lips once more, swallowing the first obscene moan he brings out of you.

—

V. THE SPRING FLOWER IN THE EYE OF THE STORM

although you know they held affection for you, the boys you’ve attracted in your life have made one thing clear: they see you as an object of desire, and you unintentionally play the part well. if you were going to make their wet dreams come true, then you ought to derive pleasure from it as well without shame.

but with jungkook, the tables have turned. you wore the same lipstick from last time to rile him up on purpose, but instead you’re the one stuck trying to recall a time you were this putty in somebody’s hands. you’re not in control— you expect this thought would make you spiral, but it doesn’t.

you stumble inside your apartment making out with your boyfriend and you have an orange azalea tucked behind your ear. his hand is in your mess of a hair and it protects your head from the impact of the wall as your back collides with it. you don’t know if it was on purpose or not but your heart flutters nonetheless. this is sickeningly romantic and you want to drown yourself in it.

“oh, feels good.” his mouth on your neck is addictive, you imagine it would be heavenly on more vulnerable parts of you. your nails harshly dig into his shoulder as he takes his time with every lick, every nip of his teeth— eager to learn more about your body and what makes it weak at the knees.

you tug at his hair with a whisper. “jungkook…”

“mhm? yes, baby?”

you thought you’ve seen and felt enough. you know about lust, but never felt a chemistry this electrifying. there’s an emotion screaming beneath the daze in jungkook’s eyes; it’s always been there, but not this loud. you think if you trust your gut and open yourself up… you might just come to gain an understanding of it.

you bite your bottom lip, behind it a shadow of a smile. “bedroom.”

his restless hands slide down to hook around your thighs, and not long after, your legs are wrapped around his waist as he navigates your apartment blinded by the mutual refusal of your lips to disconnect. you giggle every time he bumps into something and groans. with his fear of accidentally letting you fall felt through his tight grip, you’re the one who kicks the bedroom shut. the sound couldn’t have been louder than the pounding of your heart reaching your own ears.

jungkook is gentle as he lays you down on the bed, but your lack of inhibitions reign over you. you begin unbuttoning his shirt, unconsciously grinding your heat against his thigh as you do so. it catches him by surprise, but then his strong hands find purchase on your waist, and you know he wants this as much as you do.

the kiss is broken up by a moan when his grip falls to your hips, guiding your wild movements in chasing pleasure with a tenderness and sensuality that transforms you into a feverish mess. another gush of arousal ruins your underwear worse. you kiss him again and eventually you lose count of the buttons— patience runs thin and with adrenaline rushing through your veins, you tear his shirt apart.

he hisses. “baby, shit- what did y-”

“shhh,” you place an index finger over his lips.

he chuckles raspily, shaking his head in disbelief. your giggles join him, equally amused with yourself.

it’s still for a few seconds, but you can hear each other breathe in the dark. you’ve seen him naked but his silhouette alone stirs the fuel spreading throughout your body. he’s perfect. your lips reclaim the place of your finger. your hands caress every inch of his skin, every curve of his flesh they can reach. he doesn’t make an effort to hold his noises and it turns you on more, if that is even possible at this point. his muscles continue to tense under your touches, even worse when you find his nipples to tease and play with. he’s perfect.

“it’s my turn.” he tries to say in the middle of the kiss, but you don’t hear a thing until he’s pulling away breathless and you’re whining in disappointment. “let me return the flavor please? i’ve been going crazy thinking about it. fuck, please.”

you sit up on the bed, pushing his naked chest challengingly. “what? you want to eat me out?“

he swallows, wide scandalized eyes failing to escape your keen observation. “i do.”

you watch him watch you strip off your sweater, “really…?” and then unclasp your bra, allowing its straps to provocatively slide down your shoulders.

“ye-yes, really.”

“then what’s stopping you?”

he whines out your name, interrupting himself with his craving for another kiss as he slips off your bra completely. it gets lost on the floor along with your sweater and you smirk deviously against his lips. “you’re testing me like this, huh? you’re so mean.”

you lie on your bed but you feel like you’re on top of the world. jungkook scatters kisses from your neck down to your chest, occasionally licking and biting as if he can’t help but to taste you. he uncovers another ticklish spot along your ribcage, but you bite your lip to control your giggles. instead, you touch his face to subtly guide him away from it.

he nuzzles his cheek against your palm, eyelids fluttering close as he presses a soft kiss to your wrist.

“may i?”

the shape of his lips lingers there. no one has ever kissed your wrist, nor have you ever imagined the first time to take place in bed.

your thumb strokes his cheek tenderly. the silence that follows there after concerns jungkook. he calls out your name, snapping you out of deep thought.

“may i?” he repeats himself.

he is patiently suspended over the waistband of your skirt. ever the gentleman, you half-smile.

“will you fuck me good after?”

the hand on his face sneaks down to pull up the skirt over your stomach; an even tinier piece of fabric covers the most intimate part of your body.

“whatever you want, baby, i will do it.” he promises.

you can hear the smirk in his voice, but you’re unable to form another response as his tongue laves over the lace, the warmth and wetness saturating through and stimulating your clit— once, slowly, and then over and over again.

you gasp, jolting and squirming in pleasure. he only makes it worse when he hums and you feel the vibration against you. you whine and he squeezes the soft flesh of your inner thighs in an attempt soothe you, keep you still, nuzzling his cheek as he meets your heated gaze.

“relax… is my baby always this sensitive?” he places a chaste kiss over your clit, causing your breath to hitch. “‘cause i’ve barely started.”

“jungkook,” you impatiently whine. “why’d you stop? just do it, please- need you.”

you’d wipe off that stupid smirk on his face if only you weren’t so pent up and you didn’t need his tongue.

“wow… didn’t think you’re the type to beg.” he muses, more so talking to himself. “i like it.”

hell no, you’re not.

but finally, he dives in, greedily pulling aside the flimsy material for a real taste of you. instead of a sharp remark, erotic sounds between a moan and a sob emit from your lips. your toes curl at the surge of mind-numbing ecstasy overwhelming your body. your hands fisting the sheets fly to his hair, frantically tugging like you can’t take it, but you beg and beg and beg him for more.

—

the last time you had sex was more than four months ago. you realized that you liked jungkook, and you simply didn’t want to do it with anybody else. sexual frustration combined with the romantic pining for a man that could potentially ruin your life; your youth has been nothing short of eventful.

has sex always been this good? you can’t remember. you’re drunk on pleasure even in the aftermath; you’re not sure if you’re really here or floating someplace else. as you catch your breath, jungkook soothes your body with gentle kisses and strokes of your skin, whispering sweet nothings. mostly babbling about how beautiful you are. and you feel it— feel beautiful, you mean.

you gradually open your eyes, vision adjusting to the divine view infront of you. jungkook is golden, skin still glistening with sweat under the warm glow of the lampshade. your heart skips a beat when he smiles at you.

“are you good? do you need anything? water?”

“again.”

his eyes widens. “again?“

“round two.” you giggle.

you push yourself up to reach his lips, but the kiss ends too soon for your liking.

“jungkook-” you complain.

“wait!”

you stare in bewilderment as he bends down from the edge of bed, appearing to be reaching for one of the objects discarded on the floor.

“what is it?”

“i found it!”

it’s the flower.

beaming with a hue of pure excitement, he tucks the azalea behind your ear for the second time tonight. pretty, he says it so quietly that you only understand through the movement of his lips.

he looks bewitched by you. in a different setting you’d be smug about it, but at this moment, you don’t understand. you can’t read what’s on his mind. if only you could see yourself through his eyes, even for just a moment, then maybe you’d understand why he’s dancing with fire and folding with his tower of cards.

it would be too silly and embarrassing to start crying now, right?

you swallow the lump in your throat, glassy eyes overshadowed by your boyfriend leaning in to plant a kiss on your forehead. as if that isn’t enough to entirely melt your heart, he intertwines his fingers with yours. your walls come crumbling down. in a haste to forbid your emotions from breaking free, you reach for him and slip your tongue in his mouth for a fervent kiss.

the burning tears that drip down to your temples are lost evidence you will bring to the grave.

—

“you’re not supposed to be awake.” jungkook complains as soon as he opens the door.

you only spare him a glance before returning to your task. instead of being under the sheets, you’re sat on the floor with his button-up shirt from last night laid across your lap. only several steps closer and he realizes that you’re sewing.

he exhales through his mouth in surprise, setting aside the tray of food on the bed before joining you on the floor.

“baby, what are you doing?! it’s fine. you don’t need to fix it.”

“i know, but i want to.” you reply, smiling, eyes still swollen from sleep focused on the needle and thread. “i stepped on one of the buttons so i looked for the two other.”

he’s dumbfounded watching you sew with so much care and precision. oh my god, he is in love with you. he thinks it so loud he gets terrified that he might’ve ended up speaking it out loud too.

“at least eat first!”

“wow, where did you buy ingredients so early?”

“early?” he scratches his head. “it’s lunch time.”

“what?!” your eyes grow twice their size. “jungkook, i’m late for work! what didn’t you wake me up?!”

“you- you we- you were tired!” he stutters defending himself.

he awkwardly catches his shirt when you throw it aside in a rush to get to the bathroom.

“baby, what about your food?!” he yells.

“wait, i forgot my towel-” you pop out from the doorframe, beaming at him breathlessly. “oh, please pack the food in my lunchbox!”

—

VI. SPEAKING TRUTHFULLY, YOU’RE THE ONE FOR ME

“i missed you.”

you giggle. “you look drunk.”

you hold jungkook’s cheeks in the palm of your hands, and he revels in the comforting warmth radiating from them.

he closes his eyes with a toothy grin. “i’m exhausted.”

“then go to sleep!”

“i don’t want to!”

he opens one eye, peeking at you.

“i came here so you won’t have to tire yourself out more going to my place.” you pout. “why do you hate resting?”

“this is me resting,” he says as a matter of fact, leaning down to give your lips a peck. “you are my rest.”

while it may be true that his body is begging for sleep, his mind is willing him to stay awake for as long as he can. he likes that he has nothing to prove here; he can simply be. you’re softly tracing his skin, forming constellations from the moles on his face, and he knows they’re created out of pure wonder and love.

“this one’s so cute!” you gush. “nobody talks about it enough.”

you place an affectionate kiss on the mole at the bridge of his nose.

“maybe because nobody has noticed it but you.”

you roll your eyes. “as if i’m the only one who spends their free time looking at your face.”

“but you’re the one who can view me in the highest quality.” he brings his face a little closer to tease you; noses almost brushing. “no one else can have me this close.”

“that’s right. or else you will never have me this close again.”

you squint your eyes at him as a threat; a frown making a permanent residence on your lips. fuck, when is he not thinking about kissing you?

“aigoo, look at you sulking!” he exclaims with a laugh.

“i’m not!”

“okay, whatever you say.” he replies in a sing-song voice.

it’s silent for a few beats as he engulfs you in his embrace. he feels like he’s being recharged, and with that comes along the overdue acknowledgement of his exhaustion. he meant it when he said that you are his rest.

“you know, i can’t help but to wonder sometimes.”

there is an undertone of hesitance in the way you spoke which is not typical of you. this prompts him to draw back a little, just enough to get a good look of your face.

“wonder about?”

“i’m not trying to put myself down or anything like that, by the way. i’m not expecting you to say the right thing or whatever either. i’m just-”

you pause, teeth nervously biting your lip. his heart aches in an instant when you avoid his eyes.

“i’m just genuinely curious? and saying what’s on my mind.”

“what is it?” he juts out his bottom lip. “you’re scaring me.”

“it’s not a big deal!”

“go on then. i’m listening.”

“i mean, i know i’m a catch, and- and i have a lot to offer, and i’m special in my own way. but you have a lot of…” you blink, trying to find the right term. “options.”

the word alone causes distaste to morph in his facial expression.

“okay, okay, i know! ugh, i don’t know how else to say it. but you have these beautiful and amazing people throwing themselves at you and sometimes i’m flabbergasted that you actively reject them for me.”

“baby, what are you even saying-”

“i’m serious. there are girls i would’ve totally gone for!”

“but they’re not you!”

he tilts your chin, smiling when at last, he recaptures your wide-eyed gaze.

“it’s really as simple as that.”

“but when we weren’t official yet-”

“i liked you from the start, if i didn’t make that obvious enough.”

you scrunch your cute nose; a smile of pure giddiness starting to form on your face. “you did… i knew.”

“i can’t believe you’re thinking about things like that. i only have eyes for you, baby. do you remember the first fight we had, huh? remember how i got drunk and cried?”

he doesn’t particularly like to relive the trauma and consequences of receiving unsolicited… almost naked… photos of an acquaintance while he’s watching a silly youtube video on his phone with his significant other. anything can be fixed in a relationship if both parties exert the effort, but trust, it is almost impossible to rebuild.

she didn’t know he was, is, in a relationship. in general, no one outside his inner circle really expects him to be in a relationship, or at least be in one that is serious or long-term. because, well, where would he find the time and energy for that kind of stuff?

but keeping you as a secret was his way of protecting you, and if you were hurting because of that, you didn’t show it.

oh, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t mad.

you needed some time to clear your head, you said. ignored his texts and phone calls; shooed him away when he begged at your front door. that issue may already been resolved, but he’s still not done proving that he’s solely committed to you.

you’re one of the most important people in his life. he loves you and he tends to get worried that you will never know much.

you gasp, hitting his chest. “when did that happen?!”

“why are you shocked…?” he narrows his eyes. “you didn’t know?”

“how would i know?”

he scratches his head in confusion. he should probably stop talking at this point and not dig his own grave, but his honesty leads him on. “…didn’t taehyungie-hyung send you a video? or did i make that up in my head?”

he immediately regrets it when the sparkle of mischief appears in your eyes.

“he’s still awake, right?”

“actually, he sleeps early nowadays!”

you wiggle out of his embrace, playfully sticking out your tongue at him. “i’ll go get the copy from him right now.”

“it was so long ago. it’s probably deleted by now!”

“wouldn’t hurt to check.”

“baby, no! it’s embarrassing!” he attempts to pull you back, but his hands barely reach you. “let’s just go to sleep, hm? didn’t you come here to put me to sleep?”

“aw, my love…”

he melts when you gingerly stroke his hair too. he will never live it down if his friends witnessed you babying him and him loving it.

“just close your eyes.”

and with your hand obstructing his vision, he sees pitch black and floating spots and flecks.

“i’ll be back in a minute! mwah!”

but despite his sense of sight being taken away, he still feels you spring off the mattress. the weight of your feet against the floor resonates along with the shout of your name as he follows you out of his bedroom.

you squeal in panic when you realize that you’re being chased. “go back to bed!”

“i won’t unless you go back with me!”

this is one of the instances in which jungkook is grateful for his gifts of athletic prowess and long limbs.

with little to no effort, he overtakes you in the race towards taehyung’s bedroom. doe eyes akin to a deer caught in the headlights, he swings the door open.

taehyung’s eyes flicker up from his phone. he’s frankly not surprised about the intrusion, not after hearing the commotion outside.

“need anything?”

“all the videos you have of him drunk!”

“hyung, no! you can’t give it!”

—

VII. THE CHOICE TO STAY

“give it to me.”

the blanket that jungkook carried from the bedroom is snatched away from his hands. it becomes unfurled and thrown over to shield your shivering vessel from the cold. without a word, he crawls on the couch and under the blanket, hugging you from behind as you catch up on your ongoing tv shows.

relief… he’s been looking forward to this all day.

the tension in his muscles, from head to toe, begin to fade away, especially as you take his hand in yours so you can give it a chaste kiss. it’s quick, but long enough for him to feel the softness of your lips. his hug tightens. he remains silent as he inhales, and exhales, slow and calm. he’s not trying to fall asleep as much as trying to shut down his brain. they say the world has stopped but from his point of view, it has erupted into chaos and he has no other choice but to watch it fall apart and to attempt to rebuild it at the same time. god knows he is doing the best he can but it feels like his best will never not be lacking.

jungkook is scared, and he is more scared knowing that everyone else is too. but for the past two years, whether you’re whole or broken, whether he’s climbing or falling— it never made a difference. you’ve always stayed.

he finds comfort in knowing that he has this constant among the ominous unknown.

his little firefly; your light won’t go out even as the world lets out its final sigh.

“my love, why are you sad?”

you flipped to your other side when another commercial break rolled in; now you’re hovering over him, curious eyes studying every inch of his face.

“is my love hurt anywhere?” you coo. “where should i kiss?”

his body shakes with quiet laughter as you pepper his face with kisses, trailing down to his jaw until you reach the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

“or do you want a massage? here? know you had a looong day.”

“really? how’d you know?”

“yeah, ‘cause you haven’t showered. you’re all stinky.”

“oh, am i?” he playfully pinches your waist, which you react to with a drawn out whine. “and yet you’re still cuddling with me.”

“so? do you need my massage therapy services or not?!”

“no. i only need my lover, please.” he pleads with droopy eyelids, emphasizing his request by tangling his limbs with yours.

he can’t hide from you like he hides from himself. you’re much more gentler with his heart than he is; unconciously, he trusts you more with it.

“you have me. what’s wrong?”

your hands anchored on the sofa are swept away as he pulls you closer, your weight crashing down on him entirely. he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your natural scent and the lavender in your body wash.

“eh, it’s just work… everything that could go wrong is going wrong. we’re trying to figure things out, but what can we do really…? there’s nothing. i- this-this whole thing is just so fucking frustrating, baby. i’m sorry.”

“it’s not just work! it’s your reason for living. of course this is frustrating and painful for you. it’s understandable to feel that way.”

he can practically hear you pouting. he is proven right when you lift your head, leaning in to give him a kiss. he smiles against your lips. he loves you so much.

“so please don’t burn yourself out trying to be okay. you have me by your side who can help you carry your burdens.”

it was scary at the beginning, but now it only feels right. it is impossible not to love you with all of his heart and soul; you deserve nothing less and more than what he can give. when you hug him, he hugs you back tighter.

“you’re my reason to live too.”

“i shouldn’t be. what if i die before you?”

“yah, don’t says things like that!” he scolds you faster than he can think, eyebrows knitted together and frown a tad deeper. “you won’t. it won’t happen.”

“i will die eventually.” you grimace.

“please don’t say such things as ‘i want you to move on and meet someone else and fall in love again and remarry.’ i don’t want to hear it!” he rambles so fast that he doesn’t even understand himself, stumbling and lisping. “i will seriously cry!”

“oh, i don’t care for things like that.”

you make yourself more comfortable; your boyfriend as your own personal bed. sleeping on top of him has been a natural occurence these days, not that he minds. you’re so soft and warm. it’s like hugging a stuffed toy to sleep. still, he’s mindful of you falling off the couch again.

“do whatever you like.” your eyes meet as you bestow him with a smile. “i’ll be dead; i won’t even know what happens next.”

“you don’t care? huh…” he huffs over the hypothetical.

the mere consideration of it feels like cheating. he knows that it technically isn’t, but he can’t imagine spending the rest of his life with someone who isn’t you. nevertheless, if he was being honest and it was the other way around, he’d probably do tell you to leave your heart open. but the topic is not the other way around and jungkook’s heart is stubbornly bound to you.

“why am i getting upset?”

“i don’t care because i’m confident.” you say candidly. “you can fall in love with someone else, but no one will ever love you the way that i do.”

ah, and here comes a side of you that he knows and loves. he swears that cupid is in the room and his heart was just hit by another one of his arrows. it feels so good to be loved so fearlessly.

“i know, so why even bother?” he arrives at a conclusion to his defense, but there’s a much better solution. “please never ever leave me so i won’t have to deal with this dilemma.”

he catches you roll your eyes before he comes face-to-face with the back of your head. your cheek rests on top of his chest; he feels it above his beating heart.

“what then? are we supposed to die together?”

he hums in thought. “it’s not a totally bad idea. we live together, so wouldn’t that make sense too?”

“wow, very shakespearean of you.”

“oh, that’s right! see? isn’t this your type of thing? let’s do it!”

“oh my god, you’re so stupid.” you hide your face behind your hand, giggling in disbelief of the sharp turn this conversation took.

jungkook loves making you laugh. for a little while, he forgets everything else. the world outside may be terrifying but you have your own in your shared apartment. you’re his reason to live too. you ignite the life in his veins. you kiss him with an appetite for passion and love and he enters heaven on earth.

“thank you.” you mumble against his lips.

“thank you?”

“for loving me, for living with me…” your voice wavers and his heart drops to his stomach. he can hold back his tears, but never when he sees yours flowing. “even when you’re tired and having a hard time.”

“you make it sound like a chore, but the truth is loving you gives me the strength to work hard everyday. you do know that, right? baby?” he strokes your hair tenderly, hoping that you receive his sincerity. “i should be the one thanking you… i should say it more often. you didn’t give up on loving me even when it was hurting you.”

“it’s all in the past… you were hurting too.” you reply in a faint whisper. “i love you.”

cupid must owe him a tremendous favor to have granted him the purest form of love a human being could have.

he plants a kiss on your forehead, noticing the rise of your shoulders. an endearing thing they occasionally do when you’re happy, shy, or flattered. it’s one of the many things he learned about you since you started living under the same roof.

he’s been learning about himself too. he tried saving you from himself but this fact is now well-established— you are the sun; it only hurts him to push you away because you’re in everything. it’s the little things that will haunt him if lost. when pieced together, they declare that you love him and he loves you.

the words i’m going home have gained more meaning and he’s excited to say them at the end of each day. he talks about his day and you talk about yours. you find out he’s the reason your lotion ran out too fast again and you chase him around the apartment until he promises to buy you the biggest bottle. you play rock-paper-scissors to figure out who will wash the dishes or receive the food from the delivery guy. you watch too many cooking videos on his phone until one of you falls asleep. most of the time it’s you. tonight, it’s still you.

he must confess that up to this day, he admires you when you sleep. you are safe and sound, and he is mended in places he did not know existed.

it’s time to sleep, he also decides.

he cocoons you in the blanket, then provides another layer of warmth which is his body. once settled, he closes his eyes, sighing in contentment. “what’s the use of our giant bed if we keep on sleeping on the couch?”

—

(?). AN ETERNAL RECORD: MY TREASURE, MY LOVE (ARCHIVED)

[DEC 25 ‘17 02:12AM]

“is it rolling?”

“yes, it’s rolling.”

you excitedly look at the film camera from the thick pile of snow on the ground, moving your arms up and down and your legs from side to side. an attempt to create a snow angel.

your giggles and the crackles of the snow are heard through the speaker.

the lens zoom in on your face.

childlike joy in the form of an everlasting smile and snowflakes on your hair.

“am i doing it?!”

“you are!”

“really?”

“really!”

“is it pretty?”

your face comes out of the frame. for a second only the white snow is seen, and then the dark brown of your coat as you skip towards the camera.

“let me watch!”

the camera shakes before it pans to the ground.

rustling of clothes and a shy, panicked voice.

“hold on- i-i’ll just fix the…”

“why?”

“huh, what do i do?” a forced laugh to mask nervousness. “i think it didn’t save-”

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook drabble #jungkook one shot #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook au #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #bts reaction

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darkbluekies · 1 month ago

Note

Dr kry x nurse reader

Like imagine nurse reader was college student wanted to be a nurse to learn some medicine or help people sick and taking care old people

Sea sick

Doctor!yandere OC x nurse!reader

Summary: being the only one to be granted as Dr Kry’s apprentice on board a hospital ship ends in tragedy

Warning: yandere, sinking ships (fictional ship and incident), poisoning, indirect killing, mentions of dead bodies and autopsies, blood, sharp objects

Word count: 8k

A/N: a lot of people hav wanted a story where darling is a nurse and I have tried writing it so many times over a year, but haven't been able yo. So I tried changing location and it seemed to work, so it is not exactly what was asked, but I hope that it is enjoyable anyway!

He stands on the promenade deck, watching out over the harbor, breathing in the fresh air. People carried on stretchers catch his eyes.

He used to get sea sick during his first weeks out at sea. There was something about how the ship rocked back and forth during the stormy days that made his stomach turn inside out and want to eject the food he had eaten. But now that he's been here for three months, it's barely noticeable. He hasn't thrown up for three weeks. A new record.

He has grown to like the rocking motion of the sea, but doesn’t care much for the people he shares the ship with. The female nurses try to invite him into their cabins, the male nurses fight over who will be his apprentice and the doctors either watch him with jealousy or ignore him. It’s only for a few more months, until he has saved up enough money. Until everything is over.

They’ve just picked up a town hall full amount of wounded soldiers and new nurses. Doctor Kry has heard that his new trainee will be among them. He scans the crowd of people walking towards the gangway, trying to guess which one will be his to deal with. He hopes that they are obedient — he has no interest in scolding them — and that they aren’t stupid.

“Watching the fresh blood?” a voice asks.

He turns to the side to see one of the other doctors coming out to look at the new herd. Doctor Hart is an asshole, always in everyone’s business. One could almost think that he was getting paid for it.

“You could say that”, Doctor Kry replies shortly.

“How many dead, do you think?”

Doctor Kry let his eyes wander over the crowd below.

“Fifty, maybe”, he says.

It’s a cruel game, he knows that, to guess how many won’t survive the trip to the mainland. But he doesn’t know how to converse with the other doctors unless he joins in on their sad games.

Sometimes, he plays with the nurses out on deck. There’s all sorts of games tucked away in boxes, ready to be taken out whenever.

“I heard that your trainee will be among those”, Doctor Hart says and nods down at the group of waiting people. “Who’s the lucky one?”

“I don’t know”, Doctor Kry replies shortly and stops leaning on the railing. “I should go find out.”

He doesn’t wait to hear the reply. He’s not sure where to go for his trainee to find him, but he decides to go to his cabin — if not to be at a static place, then to get away from everyone. Him getting a trainee must be the only hot topic they have.

He navigates the white naked steel corridors to get to his cabin. It’s hard to believe that this naked ship should be covered with polished oak panels, golden details and expensive paintings. None of that can be afforded to be lost, in case the ship is sunk.

They have lifeboat drills every morning to make sure that everyone on board knows what to do. Since they rotate staff often, those drills need to be done. They’re boring, but handy.

The ship is nothing more than an empty shell of what she’s supposed to be, stripped of anything that gives her personality. All that’s left is bare necessities, nothing for pleasure.

He opens his door and walks in. The room is small and only contains a bed and a desk, the walls bare steel. It has a rectangular window overlooking the forecastle and he can’t help but think that he has gotten one of the best cabins on the ship. He knows that doctors, officers — both military and ship — and a handful of passengers, get better cabins than the wounded or nurses.

Doctor Kry sits down by the table and opens his notebook to write. He has time to finish two pages before there is a knock on the door. It’s a drastic knock, as if the person on the other side of the door is either nervous or eagerly excited. He stands up, not knowing what to expect as he opens the door. Outside stands a young thing, with their hands clasped in front of them. You take him by surprise. You’re not what he expected — but then again, what had he been expecting?

“Are you Doctor Kry?” you ask.

“Yes, I am”, he replies.

“I’m told that I am your apprentice.”

He lets his eyes wander over you. You seem so … small? You’re younger than he had thought, and there’s something naive about you. He can’t help but wonder what events has led you to end up here.

He realizes that he can’t have you standing out in the corridor forever and steps aside, gesturing for you to come in. You walk past him into the small room and look around.

“You have a better cabin than I do”, you say with a small — nervous — laugh, as if to bring some kind of humanity into the conversation. It’s as if you want to skip right past the awkward small talk. You grimace. “I have to share a cabin with five others. We only have a small porthole.”

Doctor Kry closes the door.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

“Oh, sorry”, you reply quickly, eyes widening with realization. “Y/N.”

Doctor Kry can’t help but tug at the corner of his lips.

“Are you always this light-headed, Y/N?” he asks.

You look down in embarrassment.

“No, doctor”, you say. “I am just nervous. I haven’t done anything like this before. Sorry, doctor.”

“Sit down.”

You look around for somewhere to sit and end up on his neatly fixed bed. Doctor Kry sits down on his chair by his desk. You fiddle with your hands in your lap as your eyes follow him.

“You’re going to be my trainee, which means that you have to listen to me at all times”, Doctor Kry says. “The medical field is a profession that requires precision. One faulty move and someone could die. Is that clear?”

“Yes, doctor.”

“I’m responsible for you, so I don’t want you doing anything stupid, do you get that? No breaking rules, no stupid behavior.”

“Yes, doctor.”

He stretches his neck.

“This doesn’t have to do with you but I will tell you this anyway, in case it should occur”, he says stiffly. “If any of the other nurses give you any trouble, you’ll come tell me right away, understood?”

“Yes doctor”, you reply.

“Good. In that case, let's get started. A lot of people have boarded the ship today, and we need to check up on them. You might have thought that you’d get a day to settle in, but that’s not how we do things here. On board, things can happen at any hour of the day and you need to be prepared.”

You nod.

“Good”, he says, pleased. “Let’s go then, we have work to do.”

When he stands, so do you. He walks towards the door and so do you. You follow him through the corridors like a puppy, in silence. You don’t say anything. Maybe this will work for him after all?

You come out to the main staircase, a pathetic excuse of what it should be, and walk up a flight of stairs. What should be the lounge is now an operating theater and bedroom to wounded soldiers. He can hear you draw a breath as you walk in. The smell must hit you, he guesses, the smell of pain and blood.

You follow him around the open room as he talks to different men and women who have all kinds of painful injuries and sickness symptoms. You’re quiet behind him. When he’s done with his round, he takes you out onto the promenade to get you some fresh air. You hold onto the wooden railing.

“That can be unpleasant”, he says, leaning onto the railing beside you with his elbows. “Especially if it is one's first time. You’ll get used to it.”

“I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to expect”, you reply. “I knew that it would be … bad … I just didn’t know what type. Tomorrow will be better. Now I know what to expect.”

You give him a small smile. Don’t give up on me yet, I will prove myself to you. You are weirdly cute.

“Why are you here if you lack so much experience?” he asks.

“Good question”, you sigh. “Money problems, I suppose. My family has it rough.”

“How long will you be here?”

“A few months, until I've saved enough money.”

Doctor Kry nods. “Same here.”

“Is life on board tiresome?” you wonder. “What do you do out on sea?”

“Some play deck games, some write, draw or read”, Doctor Kry says. “Some spend time with the wounded. Everyone comes up with different activities.”

“I would like to explore the ship, see what the home I will have for the coming months contains.”

“If you want I can give you a tour.”

“Really? Thank you, I would love that.”

You follow the doctor inside again. He decides to start from the bottom of the beast and show you up to the very top.

The orlop deck is the one right above the boilers. The two of you shouldn't wander further below, in case of danger. The orlop deck contains a mailroom and the cargo hold. It's chilly inside the ominous cargo room. Wooden boxes stand in groups.

“These contain everything from weapons to medical equipment to food and alcohol”, Doctor Kry says and taps the top of a wooden box. “Some people — of the military staff, I've been told — sneak down here to steal some of it. I wouldn't advise you to explore down here. The ones you'll meet will most likely be drunk beyond measure and not trustable.”

“I understand”, you say.

“That being said, let's go upstairs.”

G-deck is filled with bunk beds, rows and rows of them. Walls that used to separate cabins have been demolished and left are the marks on the floors where they should stand. People are in bed, either sleeping or chatting with each other. They’re wearing bandage.

F-deck was the same as G-deck, filled with bunk beds and cabins.

E-deck has a pool with crystal clear water. It’s a simple pool, only there for exercise. It used to have much more detailing, a children’s part of the pool and some children’s floating toys.

“It would be nice to swim here”, you say. “After long hours of standing.”

“I think it is nice”, Doctor Kry says. “I haven’t used the pool yet. I think it’s seawater but, like I said, I haven’t tried the pool yet.”

Before he has time to think, you’ve crouched down, sunk your cupped hand into the water and taken a lick. Doctor Kry gasps and twitches forward.

“What are you doing?” he questions.

“It is seawater”, you say.

He grabs your wrist, pulls you up on your feet and shakes your hands free of the water.

“That is disgusting, do not do that again”, he says sternly.

You laugh slightly, meeting his eyes. Doctor Kry shakes his head, but has to restrain himself to not smile.

“Get out”, he says, nodding at the door.

You walk before him. Your youthful behavior is going to wear him down.

D-deck has more dim corridors than the others you’ve explored. Doctor Kry stops in front of a steel door with his hand resting on the handle.

“This room is the morgue”, he says slowly. “I don’t expect you to like this room, but I do expect you to treat it with respect. Don’t do anything ‘fun’ here, like you did in the pool. Understood?”

You nod. Doctor Kry opens the door. A chilly wind blows through you. You hug yourself. The room is colder than the winds up on deck and you look at Doctor Kry to see if he’s also feeling the cold. Along the walls of the room are numbered hatches. You don’t need him to explain what is inside them. Doctor Kry opens a door to the right, showing a small room with an operating table on it.

“Have you ever performed an autopsy?” you ask.

“Many times”, he responds and closes the door.

“Do they get … easier every time?”

“Easier? I wouldn’t say easier, but you learn to shut off your brain. You’ll learn that too while working here.”

He walks you out of the morgue. D-deck also contains even more wards.

C-deck has the first class dining saloon, now nothing more than a school cafeteria. The tables are simple, the chairs looking uncomfortable. A few men sit by a table eating. Doctor Kry is quick to get you out.

B-deck has more cabins and open wards, along with an enclosed promenade deck filled with beds, where patients can rest in fresh air. There’s nothing left of the verandah cafe, the suites have been emptied and the hairdresser doesn’t have the equipment that it once had.

A-deck is the only deck on the ship left with some of her old personality. The lounge has some armchairs and couches and the smoking room still has the painted glass windows. You look at the painted mermaid on the window.

“It’s beautiful”, you say.

“It is”, Doctor Kry says. “I think it has something to do with Greek mythology, but I haven’t asked.”

The enclosed promenade deck the two of you had been on is on the same deck. Boat deck, on the other hand, has nothing enclosed. Nothing to shield anyone from wind or rain. Rows upon rows of lifeboats stand in their davits, collapsible ones are positioned on the roofs for easy access.

“Okay, I think you’ve seen it all”, Doctor Kry says and sighs. “Not much, as you can see. Majority of it have been removed in case anything would happen to the ship.”

“Is there a risk of something happening?”

“The ship is painted white with a green line and big, red crosses. People know better than to sink a hospital ship.”

“But at night you can’t see what color the ship is painted.”

“I assure you that has been thought of. I will show you. Meet me at my cabin at sunset.”

“Okay.”

You knock at his door as the sun is resting on the horizon. Doctor Kry stands up from his chair a bit too quickly.

“Good evening”, you say. “I’m here.”

“So you are”, he replies and grabs his beige coat. “Let’s go, we can get dinner afterwards.”

You follow him out to the main staircase and up to the boat deck. The red shade above you is fading into dark blue skies. Wherever you look, nothing breaks it. You follow Doctor Kry to the stern where you have a good view of the ship. A strand of green light lights up the side of the ship, big spotlights turned to the red crosses. The green light gives your face a magical shade, one which makes the doctor stare at you when you’re not looking.

“You can sleep soundly”, he says. “As you can see, there are lights showing other ships what we are. Now, how about some food?”

“Yes, please.”

The two of you walk back inside and make your way down to the dining hall. You don’t say anything, but the way your hand travels the railing down the main staircase makes him smile.

You get a bowl of soup and a piece of bread. Doctor Kry leads you to a table full of doctors where he always sits. Not because he likes their company, but because he doesn’t want to sit with the immature nurses.

“So this is your apprentice?” Doctor Hart says, eyeing you.

“Yes”, Doctor Kry replies.

You sit down beside him.

“I’m Y/N”, you say, remembering how you had forgotten to introduce yourself to Kry earlier. “

“You are a voluntary nurse, right?” a doctor asks.

“Yes.”

“What training do you have?”

“The absolute minimum, sir. I didn't have time to learn more before being sent here.”

“That’s why they’re my apprentice”, Doctor Kry says before anyone else has time to say something that could invalidate your lack of knowledge. “I’m supposed to train them.”

“You have gotten an unfortunate fit, Y/N”, Doctor Hart says jokingly. “Kry is a good doctor, but probably the most boring man I have ever come across.”

You frown, looking between him and your mentor.

“I wouldn’t say that”, you say slowly.

Doctor Kry looks at you with a small smile before taking a bite of his sandwich.

“If you ever get tired of this boring man, I could always use a trainee”, Doctor Hart says with a small smirk.

The other doctors laugh. You give them a small, uncomfortable smile.

“Let them be”, Doctor Kry says warningly. “You don't have to be an ass to the newcomers.”

He turns away from them, looking at you.

“Don’t listen to them”, he whispers.

“Okay”, you reply quietly and give him a thankful smile.

He spends the rest of the dinner conversing with you, completely ignoring the other doctors. He asks you about your family life, the members in it, what your favorite memory is. For the first time in months, he's had a purposeful conversation, one he won't forget the second he leaves the dining hall. You've only been here less than a day and yet you've managed to put color in this white steel beast.

“I shouldn't keep you”, he says suddenly. “I suppose that you're tired. You should rest. I will see you tomorrow morning. Will you find your way to your cabin?”

“I think so”, you smile. “Thank you.”

“Be at my door at seven tomorrow morning.”

You nod. Doctor Kry gives you a small nod before walking away. His heart pounds in his chest, already looking forward to tomorrow morning.

Days go by. You spend every waking hour with your mentor, following him like a dog. You don't get why everyone else calls him strict, why some pity you for having him. And some pity themselves for not being picked. It's a weird feeling, you find, that everyone has a divided opinion of you and you have no idea who thinks what. All eyes on you, and none seem to be in your favor.

Doctor Kry is awoken by knocking on his door. Still in his drowsy state can he recognize the pattern. You have a unique sense of knocking. The darkness still covers the sky.

You're standing outside, wet to the bone, wearing your pajamas and a guilty look in your eyes.

“You told me to tell you right away”, you say quickly. “I'm not sure if you meant that literally but … I have nowhere else to go.”

Your voice dies out. Doctor Kry frowns, looking at your wet form up and down.

“What happened?” he asks suspiciously.

“They locked me out.”

“What are you talking about? Who locked you out?”

“The other nurses.”

What?

“Why are you wet?”

“They threw water on me and threw me out of the room. I-I guess that it was a joke but … I didn’t really … find it funny …”

He can tell that you're shivering, although you're trying your best not to show it. It makes him unexplainably furious.

“Come inside”, he says and steps aside.

He's quick to grab his towel from his trunk and wrap it around you. You sit down on his chair.

“Did they say anything to you?” he asks.

“Not from what I heard”, you reply quietly, shaking slightly. “Everything went on so quickly. I barely had time to wake up before I found myself in the corridor.”

“They threw you?” Doctor Kry asks, trying to understand.

“Grabbed me by my arms and threw me out.”

“You must have hit the opposite wall in the corridor.”

“It’s fine.”

He feels his heart tug. His poor little apprentice, getting thrown around like trash. He knew that the nurses were assholes, but he is appalled that none of them even tried to befriend you. He knows that it’s because of him. In some way shape or form, it always leads back to him. It’s his responsibility to take care of you now. And, like hell, he’ll do it.

“Let’s get you out of those wet clothes to start with”, he says and removes the towel from around your body. “You’ll get sick if you keep them on any longer.”

He helps you remove them and dress you in his spare pajamas, offering you his bed.

“Don’t go back to that room”, he says.

“Why?”

“I feel like I am responsible for you and that’s why I can’t let you back there.”

“What do I do then?”

It’s such a simple question, but it makes him feel even more determined to take care of you. You’re asking him how to proceed. You trust him enough to let him decide what should happen to you. It’s enough to make him hear his heart in his ears.

“You’ll stay here for the night, and I will decide what to do with you in the morning”, he says and removes the cover of the bed. “Why don’t you go to bed while I get you a hot cup of tea?”

“Okay, thank you, doctor”, you say quietly.

“Of course.”

He smiles as he walks out, but the second he closes the door he feels a pain in his heart. He has been with you for two weeks by now and every day has been a pleasure. He can’t remember the last time he’s been this excited to work. Every meal, he spends it with you. He plays deck games with you on your breaks and play board games in the lounge at night. You’re interesting to him without being annoying. Everyone else gets on his nerves, being too much, too loud, too clingy and too … much. You, somehow, seem to be just perfect in every category. It’s such a rare trait for him to find. He doesn’t care that no one else understands it — on the contrary, he finds it great that he is the only one you spend your time with — but he hates that the others are childish enough to mess with you because of it.

Sea air must bring even the sanest people to madness.

The morgue flashes before his eyes and he stops right in his tracks. He wants to. Oh, how he wants to. But there’s no way that he could play it off. On a secluded place like a ship, there was no place to hide a crime. Nowhere to flee if he did get caught. He’ll figure it out, though. They won’t go unpunished.

He gets the cup of tea and makes his way back to the cabin.

“Drink this”, he says and holds the cup to your lips. “This should warm you up.”

He notices how you’re trying to take the cup from him, but he won't let you. Wants to feed you. You drink slowly.

“What do I do from now on?” you ask.

“Well, firstly, I will talk to your roommates”, the doctor says. “Tomorrow morning. You can take my bed, I will sleep on the floor.”

“No, I can’t do that. I’ve troubled you enough, doctor.”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he tucks you in and opens his trunk to take out a shirt to use as a pillow.

“Doctor, please”, you say. “I can take the floor.”

“Don’t be absurd. Enough of this, now go to sleep.”

There’s no use in fighting him, he will not budge. You try to lay as still as you can, but it’s hard to drift off to sleep. You’re unaware that Kry is awake as well, having an even harder time getting some rest. The only thing he can think of is how angry he is at those nurses … but also a particular happiness. They sent you his way. In an unofficial way they sent you right into his clutches.

The very next morning, he awakens to find you there, in his bed, sleeping peacefully. He stares at you. There is something so heavenly about you. Something alive, among all this death and suffering.

He changes into his uniform before walking through the ominous corridors of your room. His knock must have echoed in the room because he can hear a few surprised gasps.

He recognizes the tired face that opens.

“If you don't mind, I'll grab Y/N’s things”, he says and, before waiting for a response, pushes past into the room, hitting their shoulder intentionally. “Where are they?”

“Under that bunk bed.”

He follows the pointed finger and grabs a brown bag.

“You should be ashamed of yourselves, you know”, he says without changing his normal calm tone. “I thought nurses were supposed to be caring, but what do I know? I never spend time with them. And now I see that it was with good reason.”

“What makes you so special?” one of the nurses scoffs. “There are a lot of doctors people would choose before you too.”

“I'm aware of that, and I'm very thankful for it. But you shouldn't forget that there is a hierarchy on board. I might not fall for your charms, but I can still get you downgraded to kitchen staff.”

He walks out. You're still sleeping when he returns to his cabin and he decides to go get you breakfast.

“Wake up”, he says and places the tray on the desk. “I've gotten you breakfast.”

“Really?” you ask and sit up. “Thank you so much. And thank you for letting me stay here.”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he gives you a cup of coffee.

“I brought your things”, he says. “I don’t think that you should go back to that room at all. I will try to get you into another cabin.”

“Oh”, you say. “Thank you.”

“You say awfully many ‘thank you’s.”

“Well, you do awfully many nice things for me.”

He tries not to show how happy he gets, but his ears burn a crimson red. You get out of bed and walk over to your bag, looking around for something.

“I want to give you something”, you say and hold your hands behind your back.

“What?” asks.

You take out a little porcelain dog, a spitting image of a Golden Retriever.

“I don’t have much”, you say, “but I really value this little thing. Take it.”

“No”, Doctor Kry says simply.

“I don’t have anything else.”

“Which is why I can’t take it.”

“Please?”

He looks at the little dog in your hands and the pleading look in your eyes. His hand reach out and take it in his hand, knowing that he won’t keep it. He will find a way to give it back to you at a later time. But he has to accept it for now so that you don’t feel stupid.

He places it on his desk and gives you the cup of coffee again.

“What will we work with today?” you ask.

“We’re picking up some new people.”

Everytime they pick up new people, he’s reminded of your limited time. One day, sooner than desired, you will walk off the gangway … and someone will take your place. No. Never. He doesn't want anyone else other than you.

Among the newcomers, you find a child. The six year old boy seems to like running along the big ship's decks.

You and Kry observe him from the promenade boat above.

“Why is there a child?” you ask. “Isn’t it dangerous to let a little boy run around?”

“His parents must either be military, a nurse or wounded”, Doctor Kry replies.

You let go of the railing. Doctor Kry follows you with his eyes as you make your way down to the boy. You introduce yourself, take his little hand and ask him for his. Nicholas. You play with him. Doctor Kry can’t look away. You’re a natural with children. The little boy seems to have genuinely fun with you. You’re running along the deck, back and forth. You pretend to have a hard time catching up with him, making Doctor Kry smile. He’s not much for children. They’re loud, unpredictable and lack consequence-think. He hates all of it. But you seem to have a natural talent for it. The boy seem so comfortable with you. It’s adorable.

“Doctor!” you shout.

“What?” he replies without raising his voice.

“Come down, let’s play something!”

He sighs and lets go of the railing before making his way down to you and Nicholas.

“This is doctor Kry”, you tell the boy. “He won’t bite you.”

“Bite?” Doctor Kry scoffs. “Since when have I ever bitten someone?”

“That’s what I’m saying — you won’t bite him.”

“I never bite to begin with.”

“That’s what I’m saying, so what are you arguing about?”

“Y/N- … nevermind, I’m getting nowhere.”

You laugh. He shakes his head disapprovingly, but his heart aches fondly. You’re like an annoying fly buzzing around, but he doesn’t want to kill you.

You play curling on the deck and you throw lamely to let the little boy win. He tries to match it, tries to follow your lead.

The image doesn’t leave his brain for the rest of the day. The only thing he sees is you with the little boy.

“Doctor, be careful!”

He doesn’t notice how he’s slipped with the scalpel and cut himself in the palm. With a hiss, he backs away from the man on the operating table. You grab his other arm and pulls him with you. His head is awfully cloudy. The only thing he sees in front of him is your smile when you played with the boy.

“Sit here”, you say and place him down on a chair. “Are you okay?”

“Yes … yes, I’m fine”, he says and clears his throat.

You clean his hand and wrap it in bandage. Your touch makes him want to pass out. But it also makes him want to yell in frustration. How could he slip up that easily? He has never been distracted during an autopsy and suddenly seeing you with a child puts him out of balance enough for him to slip the knife?

“You need to be careful”, you tell him.

“I know”, he sighs, rolling his eyes. “I don’t enjoy hurting myself.”

“I didn’t mean that, I know you’re careful, I just-”

He realizes that he’s made a mistake.

“I know”, he says, cutting you of before sighing heavily and continuing in defeat. “I didn’t mean to sound mad. I’m not angry with you.”

He could never be. If anything, he’s furious at himself.

“It’s okay”, you say gently.

You let go of his bandaged hand.

“It should be okay now”, you say. “But I don’t think that you should go back.”

“I won’t”, he says. “They need a steady hand and clearly my isn’t.”

“Don’t be hard on yourself, doctor. It happens to the best of us.”

He sighs and stands up, keeping his eyes on a point above your head.

“Let’s go out”, he says stiffly and clenches his jaw. “I need air.”

“Do you want to be alone?” you ask.

His reply comes short. “Just come.”

You nod and hurry after him out on deck. His entire body screams anger. You don’t dare to open your mouth, scared to upset him even more. Instead, you follow him like a shadow around the promenade deck. He suddenly stops and looks at you, as if he just only realized that you are still here. You back away a few steps to give him space. He flinches forward, as if his body wants to walk over to you, but his brain stops him. He wants to hug you. Wants so bad. But it is not professional.

“Maybe i should go”, you say. “I think that you need some alone time to think. I’ll see you later, okay? Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“No, wait”, he says and grabs your arm. “Don’t leave.”

You look at him questionably.

“Let’s just sit”, he says and pulls you over to the deck chairs.

“Are you sure that you’re okay?” you ask hesitantly. “You seem a bit on edge.”

“It’s not directed at you”, he says.

“Okay, but you’re still upset. I know that you hurt yourself, but it’s okay, it’ll heal quickly.”

“It’s not just that.”

He never makes mistakes. He never slips up. You’re becoming dangerous for him.

“Do you want to tell me?” you ask.

He shakes his head and gives you a small smile. “No. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

It’s cute how worried you are about him. He gives you a smile.

It feels like a dagger through the heart when you tell him that it is your last week on board. What do you mean that you’re going home? You just came here. His mind spins as he tries to come up with something. He needs you here on this boat — or wherever he is — to work properly. Both figuratively and literally. He feels like he performs better, both in the operating theater and as a human.

The cut on his hand has healed by now, but he can still feel the burning sensation of your fingers against his skin. He can’t — won't — forget it. He kept the bandage, despite the blood on it.

You need to be kept here … and he needs to come up with a solution on how to keep you. He could make you trip down the stairs and have you break a leg. No, you could still return home with broken bones. He could tie you up and lock you in, but if you screamed loud enough someone would hear you through the thin steel walls. You need to blend in. How does one blend in, in a floating prison with wounded people.

Oh. Of course.

He makes his way to the medical supply room, looking around for something — anything — that he can use. He finds a little green bottle. You shouldn’t drink it straight away, but if he dilutes it in water, it should be fine.

He decides to mix some of the dangerous substance in your tea the following mornings. For the first few days, there seem to be no symptoms of his little poisoning. Until the fourth morning when you’re not at his door when he expects you. He gets himself dressed and out of the room, marching down to your new — own — cabin. He knocks on the door.

“Y/N, are you awake?” he asks.

“Yes”, he hears your voice through the door, your voice thick and hoarse.

“Can I come in?”

“No.”

He opens the door. You’re lying in the bed, curled up with your arms over your stomach.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

You shake your head weakly. “Not well. My stomach really hurts … I think that I’m going to throw up. I haven’t been able to go get a bucket so I’ve been trying to keep it in.”

“I’ll get you a bucket.”

He leaves the room. Out in the corridor, he can’t help but smile. It’s finally kicking in. He had been worried that it wouldn’t work until you had left the ship … where he can’t care for you. He gets a clean bucket from a storage closet and returns.

“Let’s get you up right”, he says and helps you sit up.

The motion alone is enough to have you throwing up. He places the bucket under your mouth, letting you empty yourself.

“I’m sorry”, you hiccup.

“It’s okay”, he replies.

“I don’t think I can work today.”

“I don’t expect you to.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that.”

He opens the window and sits down by the desk.

“You don’t have to stay here”, you say weakly, leaning against the wall. “I’ll be fine.”

“You won’t be fine”, the doctor says. “I can see that. You took care of me, now I’ll take care of you.”

“It’s different. I just put on bandage.”

“So? You weren’t skilled for more. I am, and I intend to put my knowledge to use.”

He stands up abruptly, deciding to start right away.

“Let’s get you some fresh air”, he says. “This open window won’t do.”

“Doctor, I can’t move”, you say, eyes widening. “I-I’ve tried, but I-I … I can’t.”

He frowns. Has he done too much?

“My stomach hurts so much and my limbs don’t seem to want to move.”

“It’ll be okay”, he says shortly and lifts you up in his arms. “I’ll do the moving for you.”

He walks slowly along the decks, so as not to make your nausea even more unbearable. He walks out to the enclosed promenade where rows of beds stand along the walls and places you down in one of them, making sure to get you in the sunlight. With a smile, he tucks you in.

“Some fresh air and sunlight will do you good”, he says and sits down on the side of the bed. “Why don’t you try to get some rest? I suppose you haven’t had much this night. I’m not going anywhere, you’ll be safe.”

You nod and make yourself a bit more comfortable.

“It’s hard to not be nauseous when the ship moves so much”, you mumble.

“I have the bucket, you can vomit as much as you’d like”, he says.

“In that case I won’t vomit at all. Because I don’t want to.”

Doctor Kry scoffs with a smile.

“I know”, he says. “Try to rest now.”

He sits by your side until you’ve fallen asleep. You are so unbelievably sweet. In every single way. Doctor Kry stands up to go empty the bucket. He walks out the enclosed promenade, out onto the open deck and throws the contains over the side.

“What’s with your apprentice?” Doctor Hart asks, walking over to him with his hands in his pockets. “Rumour says that they’re sick.”

“Yes, they are”, he says shortly.

“Weren’t they going home this week?”

Do not remind me.

“They were”, he says, even colder. “Not anymore. I can’t let them go back if they have some kind of sickness. Better for them to be isolated here where it can’t spread far.”

“Is it contagious?”

“Yes, very. I think that you should stay away from them — tell everyone else to be cautious and keep distance as well.”

He grimaces and quickly backs away from him, walking away. Doctor Kry smirks and shakes his head.

And you consider yourself smart enough to be a doctor?

“What are you doing?”

The little boy is back. Nicholas stands a few steps behind him, watching curiously.

“I’m emptying a bucket”, Doctor Kry answers, trying not to sound short and cold like usual. You like this kid and if he’s impolite to him, he’s sure he’ll hear about it from you.

“Why?”

“Because there was vomit in it.”

“Ew! Did you get seasick?”

He rolls his eyes. “No, not me. Y/N’s not feeling well.”

“Is Y/N sick?”

“Yes.”

He looks worried. His best friend isn’t feeling well? Doctor Kry sighs.

“Do you want to come and meet them later?” he asks. “They’re resting right now but you can come visit when they’re awake again.”

“When is that?” Nicholas asks.

“I don’t know.”

“How will I know then?”

“I don’t know.”

He doesn’t wait to hear more dumb questions. Doctor Kry walks straight back to the enclosed promenade and places the bucket by the bed. He sits down by your legs and takes your hand.

A few days go by. He continuous to poison your tea, and help you throw up. When your body doesn’t want to do it anymore, when it’s too exhausted to work for your benefit, he has to help.

“Alright, open your mouth”, he says, brushing any type of hair away from your face. “This will not be pleasant, but I need you to throw up, okay?”

You sit beside him on the bed with the bucket in your lap, hugging it tightly. Your unsure grimace is enough to answer.

“I know”, he sighs. “It’ll be quick. It won’t hurt.”

“Okay”, you mumble and nod, opening your mouth.

He reaches in with his fingers until they touch the soft part of the back of the mouth. Your mouth is warm and soft, making him feel light headed. As soon as you gag, he pulls his fingers away. You hover over the bucket for the thirteenth time in twenty four hours. Doctor Kry pats your back.

“There you go”, he says. “See? Quick and easy.”

“Easy?” you cough, giving him a stern eye. “Nowhere near easy.”

“Okay, maybe not easy. Bad wording. But it’s over now. Good job, I’m proud of you.”

A sad smile appears on your face. You lean your head onto his shoulder, sighing in exhaustion. Doctor Kry tenses. His heart stops.

“I’m so tired”, you whisper. “My body hurts.”

He hesitates before wrapping his arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer to him. Your scent clogs up his head.

“I should be home by now”, you whisper.

“I know”, doctor Kry whispers comfortingly.

You break out into sobs. Doctor Kry swallows. He can imagine how you must feel. Body broken and unresponsive, not back home with your family like you had planned and anticipated … and you can’t do anything to stop it. Doctor Kry turns your body to him and hugs you. Holding you feels like heaven. You fit perfectly in his arms, as if you were made for him, and him only. You were born to be his.

“I'm sorry if this is unprofessional”, you mumble.

“It's okay, you're sick”, he replies thickly

He closes his eyes, enjoying the embrace. It’s everything he could — and have — ever dreamt of. His own little patient, in his arms, where they belong. Only for him. Oh, God, he can never let you go. You will be here for as long as he is, and then he’ll take you back home to him. Whether you like it or not.

“I’m cold.”

“I'll go get you some more blankets.”

He dreads to let you go but he can't deny your request. Your warmth disappears from his embrace.

He decides to hurry, wanting to get back to you as quickly as possible. As he walks down the main staircase, he feels the entire ship shudder and hear a loud ‘bang’. He has to grab onto the staircase railing to not fall over. The sound of porcelain crashing onto the floor in the distance hits him. He hurries down.

A man covered in soot runs past him. One of the men from the boiler room.

“The ship is flooding!” he shouts in full panic. “We're sinking!”

Doctor Kry widens his eyes. There's no way, right? They're a hospital ship! No one in their right mind would sink a hospital ship! His mind forgets the blanket. He needs a lifebelt. Not a blanket.

He runs past the room where you had stayed first, and he can see the nurses inside trying to scramble their belongings into small purses. Without thinking, he marches over, shuts the door and grabs the nearest fire extinguisher to break the lock. He throws the fire extinguisher to the side and hurries down the corridor, opening the first door he finds. It's a cabin for female nurses. He reaches over one of the bunk beds, to a net where lifebelts Are kept. He pulls down two and runs out.

The floor has started to shift beneath him. He can tell that it tilts to his left. She's going down by the stern.

He runs up the stairs, trying to push his way through a flood of people desperately climbing upwards. He wants to shout at them, but it won't matter. No one else will listen or care. Instead, he uses force to push himself through the crowd.

He has to get to you before anything happens. There's no certainty in how much time there is, but there is a certainty of death if he doesn't hurry up.

He runs through packed corridors, ripping open your door.

“What's going on?” you ask with wide eyes.

There's something horrific with your fearful eyes. Everything about you is dull and tired, besides your panicking eyes.

“We've been hit”, he says in a steady voice and forces the white lifebelt over your head, tying it tightly around your body. “We need to get to a lifeboat as quickly as possible.”

“What?” you ask in shock. “What happened? You said that we were okay, that nothing would happen to a hospital ship!”

He doesn't answer. If he does, he's worried that he'll snap at you. Instead, he lifts you up and carries you out of the room. He makes sure not to trip, but carrying you through tilted spaces is harder than he expects. Giving up is not an option, however.

The boat deck is crowded. He manages to get through to a lifeboat and sits down with you in his arms.

“I’m scared”, you whisper.

“It's okay”, the doctor whispers back. “Everything is going to be okay.”

He holds you tightly when the lifeboat slowly sinks towards the water, scared that you might fall off.

Seeing the ship from afar as the lifeboat makes its way away from it finally puts things together in your head. You gasp. You had been on that … and if Kry hadn't come get you you would still be on it, waiting for death.

The bow slowly rises out of the water, dripping with water. The sun shines right on it, as if it is the ocean’s main attraction. The room where doctor Kry locked in the nurses is far underwater by now. He hides a smirk under his hand. He had promised that they would be punished for what they had done. They'd have a chance if they hadn't been childish.

“I never thought that I’d see something like this”, you say. “I never wanted to see the bottom of a ship.”

“Me neither”, the doctor replies.

“Will many die?”

“No, not many. I’m sure of it.”

You creep closer to him, shivering although you don’t feel any cold winds. He holds you tighter.

The only thing left of the floating hospital is a steamy, bubbling mess, filled with debris. It’s like you can hear her hit the ocean floor. You can’t help but wonder what position she is in, if you’ll ever get to know. If anyone ever will dive down and check. If that will be possible.

“It’s so silent”, you whisper and meet his blue eyes. “It shouldn’t be silent … should it?”

“I don’t know”, he replies. “What is the other choice? People screaming?”

You shake your head quickly. Don’t want to imagine that.

Hours go by. When the evening comes, you’re picked up by another ship and given blankets and food. Doctor Kry stays close to you, not letting anyone get close. He sits in a protective position beside you, arms crossed over his chest, eyes scanning everything and everyone around him.

The little boy clings to a woman who you guess is his mother. He doesn’t seem to understand what has happened, how lucky he is, and you hope that he never will.

“What will happen now?” you wonder quietly.

“I will continue to care for you until you are well”, he says. “That’s what will happen. I will take care of the rest, you don’t have to worry about anything. Just lean on me and everything will be alright, okay?”

You nod. Doctor Kry smiles and straightens his neck.

“Good.”

You look up at the colorful evening sky and sighs. No one died this day — apart from a few nurses who doctor Kry didn’t like, but he will never tell you that — and that is a comfort. But you’re unaware of the plans doctor Kry has for you. And maybe that’s for the best.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x reader #yandere fics #yandere doctor

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star-trek-dumb-comics · 5 months ago

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I guess I forgot to post this but - last year I made a bunch of star trek OCs ! They're a group of friends who all serve abord the USS T'Sera during the late TNG era. I just really wanted to design a friend group made up of the four original federation founding members lol

They're on my ArtFight if anyone here participates

Here's some info about them :

Khov is a xenobiologist. Quite the Andorian history nerd, he won't shut up about the Ch'eraotherh Dynasty (his Roman Empire).

His naturally emotional disposition as an Andorian especially expresses itself when he's nervous or under some pressure, making him seem jumpy or easily panicked. But he's as capable of doing his job and performing under pressure as any other Starfleet officer - externalizing his emotions is just the way he regulates and keeps a cool head.

He's usually well spoken and witty (you need to when you're friends with Rog and Ketis) but when it comes to romantic encounters he easily gets flustered. He has a (not-so) secret crush on the chief of security of the T'Sera, which he is very embarrassed about

Nadia is a relief helmsman. She's very eager and optimistic, and motivated to move up in the ranks. She loves piloting and daydreams about saving the whole ship with her prowess at the helm (and maybe even have a maneuver named after her, why not !)

She's a space native, her parents worked on a deep-space cargo freighter.

She often appears chill and the "reasonable middle ground" in her friend's heated debates (which they call "human mediator syndrome").

She also loves discussing couple gossip and gives a lot of romantic advice despite never having been in a romantic relationship herself (she's probably aroace but hasn't really thought about it)

Rog is a security officer. He first met Ketis on his arrival day during his medical checkup - during which he got into one of the most fun arguments in his life, and they've been best friends since then.

He values honesty and despises bootlickers and people pleasers. In that he counts those who try to start an argument with him as a pleasing tactic - he wants his debates to be genuine, thank you very much !

He's also a bit of an order and cleanliness freak.

His job at security made him very observant and perceptive . He's also capable of functioning on very little sleep.

Ketis a medical technician. He genuinely enjoys his friend group of varied emotional species, he finds it stimulating and an intellectual challenge (as well as a test of his emotional repression). He also finds their reasoning and points of view interesting and is always taking them into consideration. All this makes him pretty critical of some vulcans' arrogance and sense of superiority over other species, which he considers an to be an emotional response.

He particularly likes debating and can hold a friendly argument tirelessly, which is always good when being friends with a Tellarite.

He suffers from motion/space sickness, which is rare for a vulcan - and especially for a vulcan in starfleet. He sort of became infamous for it on the ship after an incident where he threw up on the Captain (who he was taking care of in sickbay during a red alert). Good thing he's purely logical because that'd be really embarrassing !

#star trek #non comic art #ocs #original characters #tng #andorian #vulcan #tellarite #starfleet #oc #original character #star trek fanart

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kumkaniudaku · 2 days ago

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Askew

Summary: Terry makes good on a promise.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: SMUT (18+)

Previous: At Last: Part Two

“I’m gonna fuck the glasses off your face tonight. Okay?”

A simple sentence. No fanfare. No lingering touch or a suggestive look. Not even a repeat of his matter-of-fact declaration despite the words nearly being lost to the pockets of conversation in Corey’s kitchen during a rowdier than usual Friendsgiving gathering. Terry calmly whispered the plain statement into Patrice’s ear as he passed by on the way out of the door to join the other men in the backyard.

Patrice tried to appear unphased while she sipped from her plastic cup of white wine. “Now?”

“I’ll let you know.”

He’d made up his mind to have her babbling incoherent sentences while he bent her over the living room couch before they could make it out of the house, but holding in his little secret had proven difficult. Terry wished he could blame it on the tequila shots or the haze of weed smoke blown out of mouths far too federally employed to still be dabbling with the plant. Either would be an acceptable lie because the truth was too trivial to share. It was the North Carolina A&T crew neck and black cat-eye glasses Patrice had chosen to sport for the night. His mind dreamt up all the times he’d missed her studying for exams in the sweater a hair too large, and glasses that made her look like a professor during office hours while she bounced around the room making small talk with people he hardly recognized. His social butterfly moving her lips a mile a minute when all he wanted to do was feel those lips on every square inch of his body.

Terry needed her in the worst way. The bathroom might’ve sufficed. Maybe even the backseat of his truck. But neither option provided the sound insulation he needed to fulfill his raging desire. He’d need the privacy of their home and a TV turned all the way up to avoid disturbing the neighbors.

The signal to leave came with a quick tap on Patrice’s hip in the middle of a spirited talk with her best friend, Vicky, about something he couldn’t care less about.

“I guess that’s my cue, girl,” Patrice laughed, trying to play her role as the chatty wife being called away by her quiet husband. “Talk to you later?”

Their exit featured hurried goodbyes and promises to return for the Christmas game night that they likely wouldn’t remember come daylight. Hands fumbled with keyfobs and door handles in their mad dash to somewhere a little more secluded. Blue lights from the dashboard reflected from Patrice’s glasses as they made out in front of their childhood friend’s house like maniacs, too intoxicated with lust to care if someone saw them from the open front door.

One hand on the steering and the other middle and ring fingers deep in warm pussy had Terry breaking speed limits and running stop signs to turn a twenty-minute journey into ten if he were lucky.

They didn’t waste time with light switches or picking up discarded clothing on the clumsy journey to the bedroom. A split second of clarity told Terry to flip on the lamp as Patrice made the descent to his dick one sloppy kiss on his chest and stomach at a time.

“What you got for me?”

More than he’d bargained for should’ve been the answer had she taken the time to use her mouth for anything more than making his muscled thighs tense like he’d been tased.

With a pillow folded between her legs while she lay on her stomach and eyes looking up at Terry over the rim of her spectacles, Patrice put on an oral demonstration fit for a professional. Her glasses fogged from the cold air and steamy situation unfolding on their marital bed.

The corners of her mouth stinging from the stretch of him and the ache building in her core kept her tethered to reality when she wanted to escape into the pleasure of seeing her man so vulnerable from her touch.

He hissed and cursed as she ran a flat tongue on the underside of his dick. “Fuck, girl. I knew I’d get all of this up out you one day. Damn…”

Gobbsmacked. Astounded. Sucked into oblivion. Terry had transcended time and space once Patrice made a home for him at the back of her throat over and over again. Spit coated her hands, chin, and his lap while she focused on leaving him too stupefied to utter anything that had more than one syllable. She could’ve swiped every dollar from his wallet, bank account, and retirement fund and he’d still thank her for inviting him into her mouth.

Low groans and rough requests for more sounded like applause as Patrice went to work on her lover. His approach to the mountaintop matched hers as she desperately searched for friction from the pillow below her.

“Hell yeah, like that, baby. You know what you doin’. Shit.” Praise came in heeps. Her silk press had long turned into reigns for Terry to keep her head stable. Tears mixed with saliva for extra lubrication. She looked gorgeous under amber light to her husband.

Up and down, up and down. Take it. Gargle it down. Breathe through your nose. Looping mantras played in her head as he took control to finish what she’d started.

His release came in a photo finish. His toes curled from pure ecstasy. Body seized up in beautiful suspension, each bulging muscle in his arms and torso on display. Head thrown back to direct his loud moan to the ceiling. Eyeballs rolled behind fluttering lids. Kids drained down the hatch, never to reach their full potential.

She cleaned up the remnants with her tongue, splitting her attention between Terry and the building orgasm as she swiveled her hips against firm cotton. He stared down at her, taking in the way her jaw dropped to form that ‘o’ he loved so much. Her brow furrowed once her teeth took hold of her bottom lip.

“That feel good to you, baby?”

“Mhmm.” Patrice tried to give a more accurate description of her mind state. All she could manage was a slurred hum in the affirmative while he watched her unravel at the seams without his help.

“Show me. I wanna watch.”

And watch he did. Dick in hand and back pressed against the headboard, Terry used his refractory period to watch Patrice turn his pillow into her personal fuck toy. Her hips bucked slowly under his attention while she searched for her first eruption.

His stroke matched her movements blow for blow while she admired her lone audience member. Siren eyes and a confident smirk, hands kneading bountiful breasts, and his name rolling from her lips kept him engrossed in her one-woman show.

The inevitable approached like a crashing wave against a calm shore. “Let me cum for you, Terrence. Can I do that? Tell me.”

Patrice knew the trouble she’d started. Using his first name, and asking for permission, it was all to elicit the reaction Terry so eagerly provided. He scrambled to his knees for the chance to hover over her with his forehead pressed so tightly against hers that they shared pools of sweat.

Intense blue-green eyes peered down at her, wordlessly edging her closer to paradise.

“Nuh uh, eyes up here,” Patrice instructed when the view of quaking thighs and waxed lower lips became too distracting for Terry. “Tell me when, my love. I’m all yours.”

Her voice climbed, sounding like a symphony to his ears. He waited and watched until she met the brink of too much stimulation. “Now. Right now.”

A rush of emotions forever intertwining two bodies flowed between them through a kiss dominated by silky tongues and Patrice’s swallowed mewls. Terry had perfected the art of kissing. Knowing when to suck at her bottom lip, when to wrap his large hand around Patrice’s throat to keep her head angled upward, and when to pull away for other pursuits.

Normally, hickeys were childish evidence of adult activities, but tonight they were trophies for a job well done.

“I love you so much.” Even in furious fucking where feelings took a backseat to more carnal desires, Terry refused to miss an opportunity to utter his favorite phrase. He sucked a nipple into his mouth, letting his tongue trace the outline of her areola to his heart’s content before pulling away to show the other the same attention. He listened to her sigh and smiled. “I love the way you sound.”

“What else?”

A lick up her sternum before a kiss. “I love the way you say my name.”

“Yeah?”

“I love your body. You’re perfect.” An open-mouthed kiss at the base of her neck as he gripped her waist. “I love the way you take dick. Especially tonight. Think you can take some more for me, pretty?”

Like a magnet, Terry’s fingers found their way to Patrice’s slick inner lips as he gathered wetness to drag skilled digits around her clit. Her breath audibly hitched from the contact, making him chuckle with his lips pressed against her cheek. Slow circles, maddeningly slow and gentle enough to feel like nothing at all had her willing to agree to just about anything to get off.

“Whatever you say, baby.”

Terry didn’t say much. It wasn’t his nature. Only short, honey-sweet directions for Patrice to press her chest to crumpled sheets and spread her knees wide. He made it so easy to comply. So easy to contort herself into any position he wanted because she knew what awaited her on the other side.

He had her at his mercy. Her sat ass high up in the air with her flower on display from a gloriously deep arch. Terry felt an animalistic switch flip to remind him of his promise. Pupils dilated and reinvigorated by the lewd image manifesting at his fingertip, he went to work.

A relentless pounding. Punishing strokes that made the bed creak from the stress of it all. The sheer force knocked Patrice’s glasses askew without an opportunity for adjustment. She could only claw at the foot of the bed and push her hips back into his to match the rhythm.

The sound of smacking skin and mixed moans created a soundtrack for rabid, desperate fucking. His thumbs left impressions on the delicate skin of her back, turning his knuckles white as he dug deeper.

Patrice took every inch like only she could, earning a rough smack as appreciation.

“That’s my girl,” Terry gritted through clenched teeth. “Stay with me. I feel you.”

It was all too much. The angle. The vision of Terry’s chest clenching and releasing for exertion as Patrice looked back at him. The way his brows knitted in concentration. The scent of his cologne wafted with every move. His tattoos glistened under dim lights.

“Oh my God!”

Early sparks of a white-hot release turned Patrice into putty, forcing Terry to hold her close.

One hand between her legs and the other putting soft pressure on the sides of her neck kept Patrice and Terry tethered on their quest for joint waves.

“I love you.”

“I need you.”

“You feel so good inside me.”

“Kiss me. Please.”

“Cum for me.”

Terry sank his teeth into Patrice’s shoulder as she clenched around him, no longer able to contain himself as she clenched around him. Shared euphoria. A once in a blue moon experience that neither of them had encountered.

Moans became indistinguishable. Eyelids clamped shut as hips sputtered. Glasses tumbled from the bed to the floor, having served their purpose. Bodies wrapped themselves around the other until they were spent, toppled over, and basking in the feel of each other.

“Good job, baby.” Terry praised, his voice soothing her mind while his hands rubbed the peaks and valleys of Patrice’s hips and thighs while they lay on their sides. He couldn’t bring himself to pull out, too engrossed in the subtle aftershocks deep inside her body. “You okay? Talk to me.”

Patrice breathed out a delirious laugh as she turned to look at him over her shoulder. “I can’t see! I can’t believe you fucked me blind. You’re insane.”

“How much time you got tonight? I got some shit I been wanting to do to you for a long time.”

“Like what?”

Whispers of new positions and marathon lovemaking made the hairs on her arms stand at attention. A second promise had entered the mix.

They’d make a baby or spend the rest of the night and into the morning trying.

---

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future content.

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @hrlzy @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl @ariiijestertheklown

#aaron pierre #terry richmond #terry richmond x oc #rebel ridge

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lolawritesfanfics · 6 months ago

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The After Party

Gif by: hils79

Genre: Idol!AU, 9th member!AU, angst, smut, fluff

Pairing: Mingi x female reader, reader x OC

Word count: I honestly don't know.🤷‍♀️

Content warnings/themes: Week 2 Coachella Mingi (yes, that is a warning.), reader is the 9th and only female member of ATEEZ, reader, her female friends and most of ATEEZ are in their early 20s, jealousy, hidden mutual feelings, confessions, someone almost gets beat up by ATEEZ(minus Mingi), slut shaming(from toxic "fans" and some guy), implied female masturbation, oral(f receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex(Do NOT do this in real life!😡), multiple positions, spanking, Mingi is a nasty pervert, mention of panties, nipple play, pet names(baby, bunny), let me know if I missed or misspelled anything.

Y/n's POV

"What the fuck was that?!"

Oh boy.......how did I end up in this situation?

I guess I have to start from the beginning.

We finished our Week 2 Coachella performance(which was absolutely fucking amazing.), so I decided to throw a large after party with my ATEEZ members and my female friends to celebrate.

Before we went to the after party, one of my female friends, Denise, got me to wear a really gorgeous black floral lace corset dress, where the lace showed around my abdominal area, the dress really hugged and accentuated my curves which I appreciate.

"Hey Y/n, are you ever gonna get with Mingi or what?" Denise asked. "No, I can't, Denise. Mingi is my bandmate, if that was to ever happen and the fans and public found out about us, it would ruin our careers forever. Not to mention the amount of endless hate I'll receive, hell would have to freeze over before people would stop calling me a whore and a slut for existing." I replied.

Ever since I debuted with ATEEZ as the 9th and only female member, I have always been a target of hate, especially from toxic female "fans" who would comment awful things about me such as:

"She's nothing but a cheap slut with no talent."

"I bet she slept with all the other members in order to debut."

"She only got to debut because of her looks and sex appeal."

"The whore of ATEEZ."

Another one of my female friends, Mia, facepalms and shakes her head and says "Y/n, you care way too much about people think of you, those "fans" who post those hateful comments about you are just jealous of the fact that you're in the same group as the members, especially Mingi."

"Exactly, you know you want Mingi, Y/n. I mean, you talk to us about how you want to be dicked down by Mingi all the time, so why are you not allowing yourself to be with him? Besides, you can be in a secret relationship with Mingi, the fans and the public doesn't have to know." Denise complains as Mia nods in agreement.

In their defense, I do want Mingi, so badly my body aches for his touch. I cannot count the amount of times I fantasised about Mingi, I even touched myself and made myself cum to the (im)pure thought of all the unholy, depraved things I would let Mingi do to me so many times that I'm embarassed to say it out loud.

And being in a secret relationship with Mingi would be such a good id- No, no, no and no, I cannot and will not ruin my members' reputation just because I want Mingi to myself. We made it too far to just let it all crumble down because of my feelings.

As I shake off the thoughts of being with Mingi, Iet down my hair and put on styling mousse to make it more defined, then I do a smoky eye with mascara, an wine red ombré lip, lightly spray on my Black Opium perfume, put on my black stilleto heels on and call it a night.

"Y/n, you ready? Everybody's waiting for you!!!" Denise called as Mia did a come-here gesture for me to hurry. "Yes, I'm on my way!!!" I replied as I walked out my hotel room to the after party with Denise and Mia.

"HEY Y/N!!!" The rest of my female friends, Tatiana and Simone, greeted as they pull me, Denise and Mia in for a group hug.

"Why hello ladies." Wooyoung greeted. "Hey, Wooyoung." We greeted back. "You all look gorgoeous tonight."

"Thank you, Wooyoung." We all said as we giggled due to him complimenting us.

"Wooyoung, such a shameless flatterer, is he." Simone says as she shakes her head in pure fondness.

"He sure is, anyways what the hell are we waiting for, let's celebrate for Christ's sake!!!" Tatiana cheers as we all go to party.

"Hey Wooyoung, call the rest, the party is about to start!!!" I called him.

"Will do, Y/n. Yeosang! Seonghwa! Jongho! The party's about to start!"

90s and early 2000s pop, hip hop and r&b music booms throughout nearly the entire hotel as me, my friends and bandmates Wooyoung, Yeosang, Seonghwa and Jongho dance to our hearts' content in celebration of our week 2 Coachella performance. Then an hour later, Tatiana introduces me and the girls to this guy in our age range called Jason. "It's so good to finally meet you ladies, Tati told me so much about y'all, especially you, Y/n." Jason says as he gives me a lustful smirk which doesn't sit well with my friends and I, but me and Tatiana try to ignore it.

As the song Genie in the Bottle by Christina Aguilera comes to an end, Simone taps me on the shoulder and says "Y/n, if you need us for anything, we'll be at the door over there." while pointing at the door in the middle of the venue room where the party is taking place which is not too far from me.

"Ok. Thank you guys." I nod. Simone, Mia and Denise go on their way as she warns me "Be careful with that Jason guy, ok?" I nod, she smiles and follows Denise and Mia.

As the party goes on, I dance with Jason when he asks me "So how is it like with your bandmates, Y/n?" with that damn smirk. Then I reply "Oh, my bandmates are really great people to be around, especially Mingi. Throughout all the years I was with them, they always made me feel welcome, safe as if I've known them all my life." with a smile on my face at the thought of them. "Oh, is that so?" Jason tilts his head to the right with his infamous smirk and a jealous glint in his eyes, which obviously weirded me out but then again I try to ignore that.

As more early 2000s songs such as Promiscuous and Maneater by Nelly Furtado, The Way I Are by Timbaland and Gimme More by Britney Spears played throughout the party, Jason and I continue to dance together with our bodies increasingly pressing against each other, which doesn't go unnoticed not only by my female friends but with my bandmates Wooyoung, Yeosang, Seonghwa and Jongho as they looked at each other in suspicion and confusion at me and Jason. Dancing so closely against him doesn't feel right to me, however I try to ignore it in order to help myself move on from Mingi but it doesn't work.

Then Jason tucks my side bangs behind my ear to whisper softly "Can we take this to the pool?" I nod as he grabs my hand to lead me to the changing room where I changed into my glittery gold bikini while Jason changed into his swimming shorts. He then takes from the changing room to the outdoor pool with gorgeous pink and purple lights. We step into the pool, Jason grabs my waist and pulls me closer to him. "You've been really enjoying yourself, haven't you Y/n." once again with that smirk. I look down and nod with a forced smile as what Jason said isn't the truth at all in the slightest(not that he knows this, of course). Throughout the whole time I danced with him, all I could think about was Mingi and how I wished he was the one I was dancing with instead of Jason.

His notorious smirk soons fades away into a serious look on his face as he holds up my chin with his thumb and index finger to get me to look at him, he states " Y/N, I met a lot women in my lifetime and I must say, you are one of the most beautiful women I have ever laid my eyes on." "Really?!" I squeaked out with a stunned look on my face. Jason curtly nodded as he come even closer to me than ever before. He holds up my chin again as he turns to kiss me. My hearts starts to beat rapidly against my chest, I force myself to close my eyes as Jason leans in to kiss me.

Until I heard someone clear their throat.

My eyes shoots wide open as I turn my head to the right. To my greatest shock and horror, my heart hammers against my chest and my face goes pale as I see Mingi, face to face, with the most furious look in his face I have ever seen in all the years I've known him, with jealousy and lust in his eyes, along with Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, San, Wooyoung, Jongho and all my female friends looking at me and Jason, shocked beyond belief.

"Y/n, what's the meaning of all this?!! Who is this guy?!! Hongjoong exclaims, pointing at Jason, who is confused and irritated at this whole situation happening here.

" I...I..." I stutter, not knowing what to do or say.

"And why are you alone in the pool with him?" Yunho questions, with a puzzled look.

San turns to Wooyoung and exclaims "How the hell did this happen?!" while pointing at me and Jason, who is becoming increasingly annoyed.

"Oh, I'll tell you. Tatiana introduced this Jason guy to Y/N and the rest of her friends!!!" Wooyoung exclaims as he points at Jason, then at Tatiana.

"Huh?!" Hongjoong, Seonghwa and Yunho exclaimed, raising their eyebrows.

"That's his name? Tch, Jason." San scoffs which really pissed off Jason as he darts his head and glares at San.

Tatiana immediately raises her hands in defense and raised her voice. "Hey, hey, hey!!! I only invited Jason to the after party and introduced him to Y/N, Mia, Simone and Denise. I didn't expect him to try kiss Y/n!"

Jason becomes more and more angry as he fumed "What the fuck is this bullshit, Tatiana?!!" glaring at her in which she becomes visibly upset at his accusatory remark.

"Hey, don't you dare frown at her, Jason." Mia warns Jason as she wags her index finger at him with a stern glare. She turns to me and questions "Also, Y/n, why the hell did you go in the pool with him in the first place?!" "Exactly." Denise added, rubbing her temples in annoyance, as Yeosang, Seonghwa, Jongho and Simone nodded in agreement.

I look around, speechless as I still don't know how to go on about this situation I found myself in.

"Y/n, I think it's best we call this party off." Seonghwa states as Hongjoong curtly nodded in agreement.

"No." Mingi says for the first time since this messy incident took place, taking everyone, including me, aback.

"You can continue with this party, I'll take Y/n with me to my hotel room so she can explain herself to me about whatever this is." Mingi says as he take off his jacket.

"Y/n." Mingi calls out my name.

"Y-yes, Mingi?" I answered with a shaky voice.

"Get out of the pool, put on my jacket and follow me to my room." Mingi says flat out.

Jason snaps when he hears this, he gets out of the pool, goes up to Mingi to bark at him " Fuck off, you asshole!!! Find your own girl, I had Y/n first!"

Mingi scoffs and sneered at Jason "You think I give a fuck about you want?"

Mingi turns to me and says "Y/n, you have two choices now, me or him?"

Everyone, especially Mia and Denise, look at me in hopes I'll pick Mingi over Jason.

I wanted Mingi to myself for such a long time so, I no longer see the point in fighting my feelings anymore.

I take in a deep breath and reply,

"You, Mingi." as I get up out of the pool and go towards him.

Jason looks at me in an unimpressed, condescending stare and has the audacity to open his decaying mouth to say to me "I actually expected a lot better from you, Y/n. But of course, what is there to expect from such a cheap slut."

"Wow." I say as I look at Jason with the utmost unimpressed expression ever.

Everyone else screamed out "WHAT?!" in absolute fury at Jason's hateful comment towards me due to me rejecting him for Mingi.

"You lowlife bastard!!!" San roars as he charges towards Jason, along with the rest of the members.

Jason, now terrified, tries to run away but ends up slipping on the concrete floor towards the end of the outdoor pool porch.

"Mingi, take Y/N to your hotel room while we deal with this bitch made loser!!!" Hongjoong shouted.

"Will do, Captain! Y/N, put on my jacket and come with me." Mingi says as I put on his jacket. He grabs my hand and leads me to his hotel room.

Author's POV

"Oh, I'll make you regret saying that about Y/n." Yunho growls as he rolls his sleeves up.

"Me too!!!" Wooyoung roars as he clenched his fists.

"And the rest of us, you son of a bitch. Get him, boys!! Seonghwa yells, all of them ready to lunge at Jason.

Jason screams "NOOOOO!!!"

However Tatiana rushes to stop them. "WAIT!!!" she yells.

"What is it now, Tatiana?!! Wooyoung growls at her with gritted teeth.

"I have a better idea on how we should deal with Jason." She says.

"And what is the idea do you have in mind, Tatiana?" Jongho questions. "Yeah, how are we sure that your idea is better, Tatiana? Yeosang added.

"Mia! Denise!" Tatiana calls with a come-here motion.

"Yes, Tatiana?" Denise replied, with a confused look on her face, along with Mia.

"Y/n talks to the both of y'all about Mingi, right?" Tatiana questioned.

'Well duh, she goes on and on about him all the time, including all the nasty shit she would allow Mingi to do to her" Mia confirmed, which made all the other ATEEZ members raise their eyebrows in shock and curiosity.

Jason becomes confused as he can't hear what everyone else is saying as they're talking in hushed tones.

"She does?!" Yeosang and Simone whisper yells in shock.

"Yep, a lot of it involves hair pulling, manhandling and multiple positions." Denise confirmed.

"Well damn, this is news to me." Yunho chuckled.

"I never knew Y/n is so naughty." San smirked. "Anyway, Tatiana, what the hell has this information got to do with your idea?" Wooyoung asked.

"In Mingi's hotel room, he and Y/n could end up having sex, so why don't we force Jason to hear them fuck?" Tatiana whispers in Wooyoung's ear.

Wooyoung gleefully smirks at Tatiana's delightfully lewd idea. " You know what, Tatiana? You're a genius." he LOVED her idea.

"So what did she say?" Hongjoong curiously asked as everyone were all ears.

"She said we should get that loser to listen to Y/N and Mingi fucking." Wooyoung confirmed with a mischievious smirk on his face.

Everyone else, even including Jongho and Simone, giggled at the dirty idea. "I'll give you credit, Tatiana, your idea is indeed better than we initially had in mind." Hongjoong stated and winked at Tatiana, which made her flustered as a result.

"Jongho! San! Carry that dork up to the area facing Mingi's hotel room door. Wooyoung! Yeosang! Get a stable chair, really good duct tape and follow Jongho and San. Seonghwa! Yunho! You both look after the ladies in the party, ok?"

"Ay, ay, Captain!" Seonghwa and Yunho replied in unison.

"Hey! Who are you calling a dork, asshole?!" Jason yelled at Hongjoong.

"Oh, shut up, you idiot." Jongho spits out as he carried the pathetic man along with San.

Y/n's POV

Mingi and I finally make it to his hotel room, he closes and locks his door as I take off his jacket and put on the hanger next to the door on the left side.

Mingi looks at me and exclaims "What the fuck was that?!".

'What was what?" I asked as I dart my eyes left and right with a puzzled look on my face.

"Don't play dumb with me, Y/n. You, in the pool with that Jason guy, that fucker trying to kiss you and you allowing him?! What the hell was that?!" Mingi seethed with jealousy, lust and desire in his feline eyes, which makes me throb with need in between my thighs.

"Mingi, I can explain!" I plead with him.

"Oh, you better explain yourself, Y/n and start explaining right goddamn now." Mingi ordered. "And I don't want to hear about what led up to whatever that was, I wanna hear WHY you were in the pool with that asshole in the first place." He added.

I take in a deep breath, clear my throat and decide to tell him the truth about everything.

"Mingi, the reason why I was in the pool with Jason is because I was trying to move on from you."

Mingi looks at me, confused and asks "What do you mean by "trying to move on from me"?"

I sigh and confirm his question "Mingi, I wanted you for a long time, I chose not to tell you because I was worried if we were together and the fans and the public found out about us, it would ruin everything we worked so hard for, not to mention how people would always attack me for ruining ATEEZ's reputation, especially yours. I felt I would be selfish and inconsiderate if I told you my feelings, Mingi."

Mingi walks closer to me and says "Y/N, look at me in my eyes." I look at him in his eyes as he lifts up my chin with his index finger.

"What if I told you...I want you to be selfish, Y/n?" Mingi purred in my ear with that deep, raspy voice of his that always makes me soaking wet.

"W-what d-do you mean?" I stutter, already trembling, feeling breathless from how seductively Mingi whispered in my ear.

"You said you want me, right Y/N?" I nod with no hesitation as his statement is true in every sense of the word. "If wanting me to fuck you senseless makes you selfish, then be selfish with me, Y/n. Because quite frankly, I don't give a fuck about what the fans or the public thinks of us, baby."

Mingi then crashes his lips against mine with a needy, desperate kiss as he pins me against the hotel door with my legs wrapped around his waist, leaving my wine red lipstick smudged, sending me into a state of bliss and ecstasy.

I knew Mingi would be a good kisser but goddamn.....he took my breath away.

As he wantonly kisses my jaw, he purrs in my ear "I'm gonna do all the nasty shit you've wanted me to do to you, all the things you said amongst your friends."

"W-what?!" I squeaked out as my eyes pop wide open, completely caught off guard by his dirty remark.

He chuckles with a lewd smirk "Oh baby, don't act so innocent with me. Did you really think I don't know how you talk about me with your friends? The amount of times you touched yourself in your dorm when you thought no one else was around?"

My cheeks burned, flustered at his confirmation.

"There's no need to be shy, Y/n. I think it's hot." Mingi coos as he cups my cheeks with his left hand.

He then kisses my neck, sucking, gently biting and leaving hickies on it, making me moan and whine as a result.

As he goes down to my chest, he takes off my bikini bra, showcasing my erect nipples.

"Goddamn, you have such gorgeous tits, Y/N." He then sucks and nibbles my left nipple. "Mingi!! Please.." I gasped. My body starts to heat up, I try to suppress my moans and whimpers by pressing my lips together as Mingi sucks on both of my nipples.

He leaves a trail of kisses from my chest to in between my inner thighs, where my arousal drips down to my legs. "I want to eat your pussy so bad." Mingi breathed out.

"Mingi!!" I cried out as he ripped my bikini panties off. "Don't worry, bunny. I'll buy you another set." I clenched around nothing at the pet name, Mingi takes notice of this. "Oh, you like that, huh?" He smirks. He then takes a view of my dripping, aching cunt, face to face. "My God, you're dripping, you have such a pretty pussy. I bet you taste so good."

He put my legs on his shoulders and latches on my throbbing clit with his wet lips, making me throw my head back against the door and nearly scream as a result.

I clutch my mouth shut, biting into my left hand, to keep my voice down as he sucks and licks my clit like a starved man, desperate moans and whimpers threatening to erupt from within me.

All of a sudden, Mingi takes his mouth away from my clit, leaving me all taken aback, confused and frustrated. "Mingi, wh-wh-why did you stop?"

"You fucking tease me by showing off on stage, touch yourself to the thought of me when no one's at the dorm, talk about all these things you want me to do to you to your friends and you hide those moans from me? Very rude of you, don't you think?"

The fucking audacity of this menace. I'm literally wet and horny all the damn time because his goddamn antics on stage, him grabbing his cock every 5 seconds, his deep, raspy ass voice that goes straight to my clit and so many other things I go on and on about, is this man for real?!

Before I even get the chance to go off at Mingi, he goes down to hungrily suck my clit, making me throw my head back against the door again and scream out loud in pleasure.

"Mingi! Please...please, pl-ease."

"Please what, Y/n?" He growls.

"Please keep going." I shakily moan.

"Then don't you dare hide those moans from me, otherwise neither of us will cum."

I quickly nodded, desperate to have my sweet release.

Mingi then continues his attack on my clit with his mouth.

My moans and whimpers start to fill up the room, I stroke his platnium blonde locks as he flicks my clit with his tongue, he moans into my throbbing bud. "My God, your pussy is so delicious, so much better than licking off your red panties."

No wonder I couldn't find my red panties anywhere in my dorm.

Perhaps, I should have been disgusted from Mingi saying this but it just made me even more needy and desperate for him.

Because of this, I drew closer and closer to my much needed orgasm, my moans becoming more high pitched and breathless.

"Mingi....baby, I'm so close, please don't stop"

"I won't stop, bunny. I promise" He breathes out as his sucks and flicks on my clit becomes much quicker and desperate.

Then I feel that oh so familiar knot in my stomach. "Oooh! Mingi, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, please keep going."

My breathing become more uneven and labored, my bangs stick to my forehead in sweat as that the knot in my stomach becomes tight, so close to snapping.

"Mingi! I'm cumming, I'm cumming, ooh!"

"Cum for me, baby" Mingi says as he gives one last harsh suck on my clit, looking into my eyes with the most lustful, ravenous gaze which pushes me over the edge.

"Mingi!! MINGI!!! Mingi-i-i-i...."

I breathlessly moan out his name as I come down from my high, he greedily licks my aching cunt clean of my cum, moaning as he tastes it.

"Goddamn, baby, you taste absolutely divine, even better than I've imagined."

He gets his head out of between my thighs, my cheeks burn as I see his face covered with my juices. I use my fingers to get all my nectar off of his face, he hungrily sucks my fingers as I put inside his mouth, groaning as he relishes in my taste.

Immediately after, he crashes his lips against mine with a hungry, needy kiss, I let him inside my mouth and have reign over my tongue as he puts my legs around his waist and carries me to the bed.

He lays me down on the bed, rolls me around so my butt is facing him. He grabs and kneads my ass slowly so he can have a feel of it, soon enough, I yelp in suprise and pleasure as he slaps each cheek of my ass, sending shivers down my spine. "You have such an amazing ass, Y/n. Are you ready for my cock, baby?"

"Yes, yes, yes, I'm ready, I need you inside of me." I enthusiastically nod as I plead for Mingi. "Get on all fours, baby, don't put your head on the mattress, bunny." He orders as I obediently comply to him.

He takes off his belt, takes his huge cock out of his pants, making my eyes pop wide open in shock and worry that it might hurt or not fit. "M-Mingi, w-would it fit?" I ask him, worried and scared. "Don't worry, bunny, I'll make it fit. I won't hurt you, I promise." Mingi reassures me, rubbing my right shoulder. He then spreads my lower cheeks apart, rubs his tip, dripping of pre-cum on my dripping entrance. "Oh my God, you're soaking wet." He moans out. Slowly and carefully, he pushes himself into me, tears prickle in my eyes at the almost painful stretch. I roll my eyes a bit and let a choked moan when he's fully inside of me. Mingi gives me time to adjust to his monster cock.

"Are you ready for me, bunny?" Mingi groans. I nod, looking at him with pleading eyes. Not even a second after that, he slams his cock into me, making me cry out as a result.

Soon enough, Mingi's thrusts becomes more hard hitting, rapid and desperate, he moans into my ear, sending chills down my spine, making me even more wet than ever now.

I yelp and whine as I feel his bulge in my stomach and how Mingi's throbbing, hard dick feels inside of me. "Baby, you feel how hard I am for you? That's how you make me feel, you have no idea what you do to me. I wanted to...nnnnggh...to fuck you like this...ssss...for a very long time...aaah." Mingi desperately moans into my ear.

That alone drove me dangerously close to my second orgasm of tonight. Our moans and whines fills up the room to the brim as Mingi's thrusts becomes sloppy and hurried. "Oooh baby, please...sss...I'm so close, I need you to cum with me...sssss...I need to cum inside you, please." Mingi begs me, so needy to have his long awaited release inside me.

Immediately, the familiar knot came very quickly tightening rapidly, ready to snap. "Oh Mingi!! I'm cumming, I'm cumming, cum with me..ooh..now."

Mingi and I yell and whimper each other's names as we cum together, feeling his hot seed inside of me while soaking him with my cream.

I scream without any hesitation, tears of pleasure fall out my eyes, leaving my mascara running as Mingi pounds straight into me, not allowing me to recover from my precious orgasm.

"Mingi! Mingi, please, please, please."

He continues his relentless pace on me, both of us wildly moaning, too lost in the entangling pleasure to care if anyone can hear us.

"Y/n, you're gonna make me cum again, I can't s-stop, I c-can't control it." Mingi needily whines.

Soon enough, when that knot in our stomachs snapped, we came again together as I collaspe with my face on the mattress.

'MINGI!!! Baby-y-y...."

"Y/N!!! Y/n...ssss...baby"

Mingi rolls me around as we recover from our highs so I can look at him, face to face.

"I'm not done with you, bunny" He reminds me as he puts my legs on his shoulders. He look at me directly with small hints of lingering jealousy, lust, passion, desire and even love(?) when he states this "I'm going to give you what no other man can give to you, ever."

Suddenly, he once again slams himself into me, making me scream out loud again as I arch my back from his immediate thrust.

Our moans and whimpers freely flow across the room as Mingi beats up my slutty cunt once again with hard hitting, rapid thrusts.

"Y/n..ssss..tell me. Can that Jason bastard fuck you better than I can, huh? Mingi grunts.

"Nnn..no, he can't." I weakly moan.

"I can't hear you." Mingi growls out as he even further sped his thrusts.

"NO, NO, NO!! He can't, he can't, he can't!" I scream and sob out of pleasure as Mingi went even faster than ever before.

"Damn fucking right, he can't. You can't get enough of me nor my dick, look at how your pussy sucks me in, baby." He grunts, pointing his chin at my pussy. I lift myself up a bit to take a look, my cheeks burned profusely at the lewd, obscene view of Mingi's cock disappearing into my cunt.

"You wanna cum for me, baby?" He moans out. I rapidly nodded. "Then look at me in my eyes while I'm splitting you open, ok bunny" I nodded once again and laid back down on the mattress.

Mingi continues his merciless pace, loudly moaning as we both look into each other's eyes. The knot in my stomach start to develop for the umpteenth time tonight.

Mingi's moans soon turn into whines and whimpers as he's close to having his release. My head is full of him fucking me into the next century when he moans out "Y/n, w-would you-fuuuuck-be mine?"

I get a bit out of my daze when he says this "Y-Yours, as in?" I whine, not completely sure of his question.

"Y/n, would you..haah..be my girlfriend?" He breathed out. This completely snaps me out of ny daze. "Yes, yes, yes!! I would be your girlfriend." I cry out of pleasure and pure happiness.

Mingi brightly smiles at me accepting his confession. "Baby, I need you to cum with me, I'm gonna cum." He whimpers.

Our whimpers becomes more desperate and high pitched as the knots in our stomach are about to snap once again.

"Oh fuck, baby, I'm cumming, cum with me at the same time." Mingi cries out.

"MINGI!!"

"Y/N!!"

We both scream and sob each other's names as we came down from our most intense orgasm ever with our foreheads touching each other.

We take a while to recover before we get up. Mingi slowly stands up to get a towel and a water bottle, he cleans me up with the towel and gives me the water bottle to drink off of. "Thank you, Mingi." I rasp as my voice is worn out from all the screaming from earlier.

"Anything for my beloved girlfriend." Mingi coos as he pecks my lips. "Goddamn, it feels so good saying that." He breathes out in pure bliss.

Suddenly we hear a strangled, muffled cry from outside Mingi's hotel room. "The fuck is that?" He questions with a puzzled look on his face as he gets up from the bed.

"Mingi, can you help me up, please? I can't feel my legs anymore." I call for him, reaching my arms out in his direction. "Alright, bunny, I'll help you up." He chuckles in fondness. I wrap my arms around his shoulders as I walk beside him towards the door.

He opens the door and tell me why do I see Jason, tied down to a chair with duct tape around his arms, legs and mouth, with his swimming shorts on?!

Jason rocks side to side on the chair, muffled cried come out of him with a traumatised look on his face.

"What the fuck is Jason doing here?!" I exclaim, all bewildered by what's in front of me.

I hear giggles on right side of the corridor, me and Mingi go outside of his room to see Wooyoung and Tatiana snickering with their hands over their mouths.

"Which one of you came up with this?" I ask them, pointing at the mortfied man tied on the chair.

"Her idea." Wooyoung replies, pointing at Tatiana, leaving Mingi and I pleasantly suprised. "I thought it would be a good idea to get back at him for calling you a slut when you rejected him, Y/n" Tatiana smirks, shrugging her shoulders. "It certainly was, thank you, Tatiana." Mingi replies.

He then turns to Jason, still feeling humiliated after what happened (as he should be.) and fiercely glares at him. "You better know your fucking place, you asshole." He growls, still furious at Jason's verbal attack towards me from hours earlier. Terrified out of his mind, he rapidly nodded his head, shaking in his chair.

"Let's get going, baby" Mingi says as we walk down to the after party.

"See, I told y'all Mingi and Y/n would end up having sex, I mean, look at her makeup!" Tatiana giggles, pointing my face.

"Oh man, Tati's not lying, Y/n's lipstick is all smudged." San chuckles.

"And her mascara is all over her cheeks." Wooyoung snickers.

"She really looks like she's been fucked." Yeosang grins as the rest laugh while examining my face.

"Hey! Cut my girlfriend some slack, will ya?" Mingi replies in my defense, making everyone else stop dead in their heels and snap their heads in his direction, completely taken aback by what he said.

"Girlfriend?!" The Ateez members yells out in pure shock.

"Mingi......repeat what you just said." Denise says, stunned, as she and the rest of the girls come closer to us.

"Y/n is my girlfriend, we're a couple." Mingi confirms.

"Oh Hallelujah! The Lord has answered my prayers!" Denise shouts in pure delight as she raises her hands in the air.

"Well motherfucking finally! Took y'all long enough." Mia added.

"I'm so happy for the both of you." Simone beamed at the great news.

"LET'S CELEBRATE!" Tatiana cheers as she calls the Dj to turn up the music.

I smile ear to ear in pure, unadulterated joy, Mingi looks at me into my eyes with genuine love, he holds my chin to pull me into a loving, passionate kiss as the music plays in the background.

At this point, I don't care if I'm called the most deplorable of names anymore due to being the only female member or Mingi's significant other because I have him, the members, the rest of my friends and that's all that matters.

Happy (belated) birthday to @almightyddeonghwa and @callmeghostly!!!

Taglist: @jeon-ify, @ja3honey, @bunnliix , @itsnotmydejavu , @yourfatherlucifer , @holybibly , @beenbaanbuun , @whatudowhennooneseesyou , @shinestarhwaa

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wildernessuntothemselves · 1 year ago

Text

Jealousy, Jealousy... | Part 6

A/N: don't even have a summary for this. oc is in love with gyu and gyu is in love with another girl but both are virgin losers and gyu is a horndog who would let oc do what she wants to him just as long as he gets to cum.

Word count: 6.2k

Genre: Smut, angst, fluff

Warnings: fem!reader, loss of virginity, PIV sex, fingering, brief pussy licking, sub!reader, dom!yeonjun.

Despite what Beomgyu said, he and Haeun seem to have become an item, just as you and Yeonjun are now. They’re always together, as you are with Yeonjun, and it’s like you and Beomgyu don’t even know each other anymore. He’s always hanging out with her and you’re always hanging out with Yeonjun. You hardly see Beomgyu anymore, which makes it weird the way he’s sitting on your bed, watching you get ready just like old times.

You remember how you and he used to play a game sometimes as you got ready where you’d pick out various outfits and try them out for Beomgyu, giving him a mini-fashion show that he would narrate as if it was a football game, going on about how groundbreaking the designs are and how pretty the model (you) looks.

He was your main supporter in going into fashion as a major. You don’t think you would’ve had the courage to do it without him. He always believed in you and stood by you even when your parents were upset at you for choosing a career with such an uncertain future. He told you that if one of you succeeds, you’ll just pull the other up too. If his music career takes off, he’ll contract you to be the creative director for the band and if your fashion career takes off, you’ll have to hire him as your model. And if you both fail…well you’ll be strippers together.

You laugh as you remember your promise and turn back towards Beomgyu, who was sitting on your bed watching you. “Hey, remember our backup plan? That we’ll make a two-man stripper show to repay our student debt?”

But Beomgyu doesn’t share your laughter. Instead he just hums, focusing on your dress.

“What? You don’t like it?” You ask, insecure. You’re not used to wearing something this extravagant but Yeonjun is taking you to a photography exhibition tonight and he told you it’s gonna be really fancy.

You’re not sure if being stressed out and sweating as you try not to get judged by all those more talented and influential people is the best idea for a date but Yeonjun insisted that if you wanted to get into fashion, you have to start mingling.

You didn’t even have a proper dress. You had to wear something you made for a fallen goddess shoot you had in mind, but by the look Beomgyu is giving you, it’s probably trash.

"Does it matter?" He asks and you frown. "What do you mean?"

"It means that with what you're wearing, I don't even know why you’re bothering going on a date when you can just invite him over and let him fuck you now, skip the formalities."

"You're unbelievable." You spit out, trying to hide the dread filling your chest and making you struggle to breathe. Yes, the dress was a bit more revealing than you’re used to, but it’s an art event, people wear this stuff there all the time.

“Where did you even get this dress?” He asks in distaste and you hold your head up high. “I made it.”

That makes him back down, his eyes visibly softening as regret shows on his face. “Oh… It’s pretty.”

You snort in disbelief. "Why are you even here, Beomgyu?"

He shrugs. "Just watching this shitshow go down."

“Right.” You mutter bitterly, "I guess it was too much to expect you to act like a friend."

"I am your friend.” He says as if declaring it is enough to make it true. “I'm your best friend."

"I wouldn't be so sure."

He jumps off the bed when he hears that, quickly getting in front of you. "What does that mean?”

"Nothing. I'm going to be late." You try to get past him but he won’t let you. "No. What do you mean by that? You said I'd never lose you."

"Yeah, that was before you transformed into this asshole who accuses me of trying to sabotage his career and calling me a slut for daring to date."

He moves back, stunned at your words, and you almost laugh. Is he really surprised? "I'm just… working through some stuff."

"Stuff? That's your excuse?" You ask incredulously and he looks away. Is “stuff” worth what he’s done to your friendship?

"It's just hard for me to see you with him." He finally admits and you sigh. Not this again. "Beomgyu, I know you’re worried about your band, but Yeonjun and I are adults, even if we break up, that doesn't mean–"

"It's not about that." He shakes his head, cutting you off.

"Then what is it?" You ask, frustrated. Frankly, you’re at your rope’s end with his weird behavior.

"You're too good for him."

"What?” You reel back. Now, this is new. “Is it because he sleeps around? Because we’ve talked about it and he insisted that just because he's had many casual relationships before doesn't mean he's gonna cheat on me. We've been together for a while now and he has been nothing but wonderful to me."

He really has. You don't know what's wrong with you. Why can't you love him the way you love your asshole best friend? Maybe it will come with time? You've known Beomgyu for years and your love for him didn't develop overnight. Maybe you just need to give your relationship with Yeonjun more time.

You hope it doesn't take years to get over Beomgyu and fall in love with Yeonjun though.

"It's not that. It's not him. You're too good for everyone."

"Beomgyu…" You walk towards him and hold his hands. "I know you're not used to me going out with guys because, well, I've kind of lead a fairly loser-ish life--you know, you've been there– and maybe me and Yeonjun won't end up working out and maybe I'll end up hurt but I can't just be virginal forever. I have to try to find someone for me."

"But you have someone." He pulls you towards him, resting his forehead against yours as he plays with your hands. "Me."

That hurt more than any mean thing he has ever said to you and he doesn't even mean to hurt you. He has been terrible to you all this time because he thinks you deserve more? Because he wants things to stay the way they are? That is fucking absurd and so infuriating. Why couldn't he have just told you that instead of acting like an ass? Not wanting to lose you doesn’t mean he gets to order you around. Being worried about you doesn't give him the right to treat you like a stupid slut.

"Don't be stupid." You say harshly, making him flinch. You try again, softer this time, not letting the anger and pain through as much. "I know I have you but I need more."

"More what? Why can't things just stay the way they are? We have fun together, right? I make you laugh. I'm there for you when you're down. We've even messed around. What can he give you that I can't?"

Love. You need love and even though Beomgyu loves you very much, it's not in the way you need.

"Beomgyu, you’re being very childish about this. We're not twelve anymore. I know you’re scared that we'll drift apart if I find someone but the only reason we’ve been drifting apart is because of your behavior. I can't keep coddling you. You may not like it because it’s only been you and I until now, but it's time for me to find an actual boyfriend instead of this–this joke I have with you."

Maybe you’re being too harsh on him but you’re honestly too hurt to sugarcoat it anymore. And you also need to hear it yourself. What you have with Beomgyu isn't real and you need to face the fact that it will never be. "I need someone to actually love and to hold and to be my other half. Us messing around together is just that, messing around, nothing more. I need something real. You do too. I mean you're finally with the woman you've been chasing after for years. Do you really wanna throw that away just because you're scared?"

Still, seeing the way he becomes quiet after your outburst, looking away from you and not responding… maybe you could’ve been nicer about it.

“Beomgyu…” You sigh, reaching out to turn his face towards you but he pushes your hand away, refusing to meet your gaze.

"Go. You’re late for your date." He grits out and you look at the time. Crap. You are!

You look at him again, seeing the tension in his jaw and shoulders, something that resembles pain etched on his features. Should you stay and work this out for him or go on your date? If you stay, you’d be choosing him yet again. If you stay then you’ll just teach him that all he needs to do is act out and you’ll cave and do what he wants. No, you need to make some changes. That’s what you promised Yeonjun when you and him decided to become exclusive. Beomgyu can’t come first anymore.

"I have to go. Let’s talk about this later." You step back, ignoring the hurt in his eyes as you grab your bag and head for the door.

____________________

When Yeonjun said the place was fancy, he wasn’t kidding. You’re blown away right now, surrounded by people you’ve only known about through magazine spreads and hours of admiration through the internet. You can’t believe you’re here in the same room with such talented artists and creators.

You feast your eyes on the multiple displays from different photographers and artists, analyzing their technique, their vision, and their subject, and you’re just in awe. This is exactly where you should be, mingling with the others in your field, making connections, building a network… except you haven’t really gotten the hang of socializing yet. You’re too nervous to talk to anyone. You just stand silently next to Yeonjun as he charms his way through the crowd, joking there, throwing a compliment here or purring a small flirty line that has the other party blushing.

He can turn it on for anyone. He’s so good you can’t help wondering where his charming nature ends and his actual affection for you begins. How do you know he’s not just charming you the same way he charms everyone else?

“Do you like it?” Yeonjun asks, and you snap out of your thoughts. You look around to see that everyone around you has left and you’re standing alone with him. “Huh?”

“You’ve been staring at this particular shot for a long time. Do you like it?” He laughs and you shake your head. “Not really.”

“Really? Why not? It’s well shot, the composition is good, the set design is top-notch and the clothes really complement the atmosphere.”

“That’s all true.” You agree, and he laughs–his sweet tinkering laugh that makes you smile. “Then what’s the problem?”

“I don’t like the model. It’s obvious the photographer was going for a femme fatale look but she doesn’t deliver. She’s supposed to have the face of an angel but the aura of the devil. She has to convey the monster within but she’s so afraid of not looking pretty, it just comes across as if she’s putting on an act rather than losing herself in the madness of it.”

“You really don’t like her, huh?” He laughs, and you furrow your eyebrows. “Well, it’s not really her fault so much as it’s the fault of the photographer. They should be directing the model on how to act and correcting them when they’re doing something wrong. This model is obviously gorgeous and she has the potential in her to look fierce, but with a weak direction like this, all you get is what basically amounts to a child dressing in her mother’s clothes.”

You hear someone huff behind you and turn around to see a very disgruntled man. “And to whom do I owe this very shrewd commentary on my work?”

Oh, shit. Oh, fuck.

“I–I am… I’m nobody.” You squeak, wishing the monster from the next picture over would jump out of the frame and swallow you whole right now.

“That’s right, you are nobody.” The man haughtily agrees.

“Hey, man, she’s just giving her opinion.” Yeonjun attempts to interject but the man pays him no mind. “I am an award winning photographer. I don’t take the juvenile half-baked opinions of nobodies. Come back when you’ve actually achieved something that could hold a candle to what I’ve done over my career. Oh no wait, you’ll never amount to anything if these are the opinions your artistically challenged brain comes up with.”

“Hey–Yeonjun protests, a scene starting to form around you, but you quickly cut it short–the humiliation already too much for you to handle.

“I’m sorry.” You tear up, quickly turning and running away.

Through your tears, you can see the shocked and confused looks of the other patrons so you quickly keep your gaze to the ground until you’re out of the gallery and near Yeonjun’s car in the quiet parking lot where no one can see you cry.

No one except Yeonjun who followed closely after you. “Wait up! Baby–Are you okay?”

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I embarrassed you in front of everyone. I’m sorry I ruined your night.” You babble, tears streaming down your face. “You shouldn’t have taken me to such a nice place. I didn’t deserve it.”

Why the hell did you even think you would ever make it in such a business. The best you’d be able to achieve is etsy store designs and wedding photographs. You’ve just messed up your first chance at making connections AND you fucked up your date with Yeonjun. You’re such a screw up.

“Woah, calm down. You didn’t do any of those things.” He holds you in his arms and you bury your face in his shirt, seeking comfort and a place to hide from him. “Don’t lie. I ruined everything.”

Maybe now he’ll even realize that you’re not as cool as he thought you were. That you’re not actually this artistic person he probably imagined you as and lose interest. He’d know you’re a fraud and dump you. Then you’d be left with no Beomgyu and no boyfriend. Just your loser self.

“You didn’t. But you crying might ruin my shirt.”

You gasp, pulling away and trying to step back but he holds you by the arms, giving you a mischievous grin. “I’m kidding. You can soak me through with tears and snot all you want.”

“You’re an asshole.” You smack his chest, pouting.

“Maybe. But I got you to stop crying.” He says and you frown. He actually did. While you might’ve preferred a more sweet approach to getting you to stop crying, this still worked.

You sigh, little cries bubbling up in your chest still. “I still am sorry. You wanted to do something nice for me and I ruined it with my big mouth.”

“No, you didn’t.” He retorts, wiping away the few stray tears still falling. “I loved hearing everything you had to say. I thought you made some really good points. He was just threatened that you could've done a way better job than he did.”

“You really think so?” You peer up at him, hopeful that he’s not just saying that to make you feel better.

“Yes, but don’t start crying again.” He laughs, kissing the pout you answer him with. “In fact, I’m free if you ever want to try it out. And I want you to know that I take very good direction.”

There goes the flirting again. The one that makes you wonder if he’s sincere or it’s just part of his charm.

"Yeah, we could do that." You say nervously, letting him prop your chin up to press a proper kiss onto your lips.

“Do you wanna get something to eat?” He asks but you shake your head. “Not hungry. Too depressed.”

“Aw, baby, do you wanna head back home with me? I can make you forget all about that asshole.” He brushes your hair out of your face, kissing you again, and you know what he’s really asking.

You’ve already gone on a few dates with him. It’s not too soon for this. This is what people who like each other do after going on multiple dates. And if you want to get over Beomgyu, you’re going to have to completely give yourself to Yeonjun. You can’t be holding anything back in the hopes that Beomyu might want it someday.

You put on a brave smile for Yeonjun. “Yes. Let’s head home.”

____________________________

“Hey, you don’t have to be nervous.” Yeonjun whispers to you, feeling you tense up as he tries to push the straps of your dress down your shoulders. “You’re beautiful."

Does he really think that? You can’t be that beautiful compared to the women he’s been with.

"Did I tell you how much I love this dress?" He asks, toying with the neckline, and you shake your head. "I love it. Makes you look like a movie star. So beautiful and sexy. Almost makes me not want to take it off."

His lips brush softly over your skin, raising goosebumps in their wake before he pulls back to look you in the eye. "But I wanna see all of you. Will you let me see you, doll?"

You nod, holding your breath as he pulls the dress down your chest, kissing every inch of skin on the way until your breasts are bare and his plush lips are wrapped around your nipple.

“Yeonjun…” You whine, grabbing onto his hair as he kisses and kneads your breasts, slowly but surely turning you on.

“Does it feel good, doll?” Yeonjun smirks, one of his hands going between your legs to rub your pussy.

“Yes. Please.”

“I got you, baby.” His mouth moves down your body as he pulls your leg apart.

“Missed this.” He murmurs, reaching your pussy and giving it a wide lick as his finger prods at your opening and pushes through. “Oh, that went in easy.”

“I… I finger myself.” You admit bashfully, covering your face with your hands, feeling embarrassed for some reason but Yeonjun just laughs and leans up to remove your hands and kiss you. “That’s okay, makes my job easier.”

You give him a confused look but quickly realize what he means when he presses another finger into you, moving both of them in and out to loosen your pussy.

“See? All good. I’ll have you fucked open for me in no time.” He drawls, staring you down confidently as he works another finger into you. You tense up on that last one so he uses his thumb to rub your clit to get you to relax a bit. “There you go. Open up for me, doll. Let yourself feel good.”

You’re trying to, you really are. You’re trying to focus on the moment, the burning feeling moving up your body from your pussy that just needs to be quenched.

He’s doing it so well, hitting all the right spots, completely confident and self-assured. He knows exactly what he’s doing. No clumsiness. No unchecked lust. No uncontainable eagerness. Just steady, purposeful movements that touch you places you didn’t even know you were sensitive.

“Feels good.” You slur, pressing your pussy further into his hand, grinding against his palm to seek more of that mind-numbing stimulation. “More.”

“I know, baby. But let me take it slow for you.”

You shake your head. You don’t want it slow. You want him to lose himself in you. “No. Want you now.”

“Doll–”

“Fuck me, Yeonjun. Make me yours.” Please. Please make me yours. Make me stop thinking about him.

Are you doing this for all the wrong reasons? Maybe, but how else are you supposed to get over Beomgyu? Don't they say the best way to get over a guy is to get under another one? Well, you'll just have to test that theory.

Yeonjun relents, shushing your needy mewls with kisses as he takes his hand away. “Hush, doll. I’ll fill you up again in a second.” He undoes his pants and pushes them off along with his underwear before grabbing you by the thighs and lining himself up with your pussy.

“You ready, baby?” He asks and you just stare at his cock.

Has Beomgyu already fucked her? He must have. He’s so needy to get his dick wet that he’d never miss up the chance.

You look up at Yeonjun. “Do it. Fuck me.”

Ok, so maybe you fingering yourself hadn’t fully prepared you for this. Maybe you should’ve taken a page out of Beomgyu’s book and gotten yourself a sex toy–a dildo to practice with before the real thing.

Thankfully, Yeonjun takes it slow despite your earlier demands, thrusting into you shallowly, letting you get used to his length bit by bit.

“Relax for me, doll.” He purrs gently, kissing all over your face as his hands massage your thighs, doing his best to get you to loosen up.

“Yes, Junnie.” You whimper, head falling back as you will your body to relax. You hear a soft chuckle coming from him. “Junnie? That’s cute.”

You blush as you realize what you’d said. You couldn’t help it. You love giving cute nicknames to your friends. And you guess your boyfriend too.

Yeah, because Yeonjun is your boyfriend now and boyfriends and girlfriends have sex. You know Yeonjun must have done it with all his previous girlfriends. It would’ve been weird if you didn’t.

Not that Yeonjun pressured you to do it or anything. But you know he wanted it. You wanted it too. You just couldn’t get Beomgyu out of your head. Which is why it’s good that you’re finally doing this–smothering that last candle you were holding out for him.

“You’re tensing again, doll.” Yeonjun tells you, kissing your neck. “Not that I don’t enjoy it. It feels like heaven when you squeeze down on my cock like that, but I want this to feel good for you too.”

Yes, it’s the right thing to do this… right?

“Okay…” You breathe, trying to relax and focus on the moment, letting your muscles unclench as Yeonjun presses his cock in and out of you.

Once you’re sufficiently relaxed, you start to actually feel good again, his cock feeling much better than your fingers ever did. It reaches places inside you that you never could by yourself. It’s so thick and long, dragging along your walls and stimulating those sensitive spots inside you that make your toes curl.

“Yeah, you like that, baby?” He drawls, taking note of the moans you were now letting out but he still takes it slow.

You breath hitches, his words too closely resembling what Beomgyu had said to you before, and for a split second you see Beomgyu over you instead of Yeonjun, his long hair tickling your face and his intense gaze burning you up.

“Yeonjun–” You gasp, digging your fingers into his arms. “Harder, please.”

Maybe if he fucks you harder, it’ll push Beomgyu out of your brain. Maybe if he fucks you harder, you could mistake his casual affection for the raw passion you crave.

“Are you sure, doll?” He asks, concerned.

“Yes, please, Yeonjun. Fuck me hard.” You insist, hoping your eyes convey how much you need it.

“Your wish is my command, baby.” He grabs your thighs, pressing them against the sides of your body and getting on top of you, driving his dick so deep inside you it makes you throw your head back in a long, choked out moan.

But he doesn’t let up, fucking into you again and again, bullying his cock into your virgin pussy at a brutal pace until you have no more breath to scream, and then he fucks you more.

“Baby, you with me?” Yeonjun pants, not letting up.

“Isss good….” You mumble, brain short-circuiting, caught by the fire spreading from your pussy to set your body alight. “S-so good.”

You vaguely hear him laugh through his own grunts, “Good girl, just lay back and let me make you feel good.”

You nod, tears brimming at your eyelashes at the overwhelming feeling. But you love it, the burning pleasure making its way through your body and making you forget about anyone else but Yeonjun.

“Junnie… soooo good…. Too g-good...” You cry, your pussy fluttering around his cock as it hammers in and out of you, your legs trying to slam together to take a break from the excessive pleasure, but they can’t. Not when Yeonjun’s hold on you is so bruising, his hips keeping at that brutal pace that makes you unable to even string along a full sentence.

“You asked for it, doll. Now be good and take it.” He grunts, bending down to pluck one of your nipples into his mouth, his teeth lightly grazing the sensitive nub.

“No–no—Junnie!” You scream, unable to take it anymore, your pussy clamping down on his cock as your whole body shudders with a blinding orgasm.

“Oh, fuck–baby, baby, I’m cumming.” Yeonjun groans, quickly taking his cock out as he cums on your belly, and replacing it with his fingers when you start crying at the emptiness.

“I got you, doll. I got you.” He murmurs, pumping his fingers in and out of you as he milks his cock of the last drops of his orgasm–letting you both down gently.

When you start squirming at the overstimulation–the fires retreating from your brain–he pulls his fingers out and bends down to kiss you. “It’s okay, baby. You did really well.”

You look up at him, the insecurity creeping back in again now that the mind-numbing pleasure is gone. “Did you like it? Did you like m-me?”

Were you good? Did you live up to his past lovers? Were you supposed to do something more? Be more proactive? Did he enjoy his time?

He chuckles. “Yes. You were great, baby. You felt so good.” He reassures you simply, pressing a kiss against your forehead.

“Okay.” His answer doesn't really give you the reassurance you needed. You don’t even know what you need him to do or say, but you know he’s not giving it to you. And he notices.

“You okay, doll?” He asks, giving you a skeptical look and you nod. “Yeah.”

He doesn’t appear to be convinced by your answer. “Are you sure? Wanna take a shower?”

You shake your head, getting off the bed and beginning to dress yourself up again. “No, that’s okay. I can take a shower at home.”

“Home? You’re not staying over?” He gives you a look of confusion which you reciprocate. “Oh. I don’t know. Do you want me to?”

You blink at him, genuinely unsure. You didn’t want to presume anything. You don’t have experience doing this. You don't know if you’re supposed to stay or if it’s too soon.

“Of course. I’m not just gonna make you go home after we fucked.” He chuckles, pulling you back down to the bed. “You have to stay the night.”

“I don’t know…” You hesitate. If you stay, Beomgyu will probably know what you've done. He'll know that you and Yeonjun had sex. But if you leave you'd be choosing Beomgyu again. You need to let go of him.

“Okay.”

___________________

You end up having a nice time with Yeonjun once you get over your anxiety and trepidation of losing your virginity to someone other than Beomgyu. It's silly but you suppose on some level you thought you'd have your first time with him.

And it's not just that. For a second you let the insecurity get to you and you wondered if Yeonjun would act differently now that you had sex. That he'd show his true face and break your heart, but he doesn’t. He is as sweet as ever, giving you some of his clothes and staying up in bed with you, having those precious pillow talks that are so important early in a relationship.

He is easy to talk to, and when he does that cute thing where he scrunches his nose up and pokes his tongue out as he's teasing you, it makes your heart flutter.

You find out that singing isn’t his only passion--that dancing is his first love. He even gets up out of the cozy comfort of the bed to show you a few dance moves when you whine and insist he shows you. You watch him with a big smile on your face as he executes them so well even in his bedroom, his movements so fluid yet precise, it’s mesmerizing. And when he’s done he smiles that sweet smile of his and lunges back into bed with you and you take him into your arms as if he could actually belong there.

It was so unlike how he usually is on stage and in front of others that it tugs in your heartstrings a bit, making you feel special for being allowed to witness this.

You fall asleep in his arms and wake up in his arms, forgetting about that aching feeling of emptiness in the center of your chest for a few blissful hours.

And in the morning you even make breakfast together. Or more like he makes you breakfast while you make coffee.

“Oh, man. I haven’t had a proper breakfast in sooo long.” You moan, digging into the omelet and sausages he made you.

“You don’t cook?” He asks, smiling as he watches you eat.

“Nope. Me and Beomgyu are hopeless. We’ve almost burned the kitchen too many times that now we don’t even bother.”

“Then what do you guys eat?”

“Frozen goods and slimy take-out. We’re building a formidable gut microbiome. We’re actually part of the country’s biological weapons program.”

Yeonjun laughs. “Well, sorry for ruining your trajectory by feeding you actual food.”

“Ah, well, Beomgyu can carry the torch by himself.” You shrug, mouth full of food.

“You guys are really close, huh?” He asks, and the mood grows a bit gloomy. You chew slowly, thinking your words through before answering. “Yeah, he’s my best friend.”

“He’s more than that though, isn’t he?” He pushes and you hesitate.

Once again, you know exactly what he's asking, and you’re faced with a decision to make between an uncertain future with Yeonjun, nurturing a candlelight that is so shaky it might get snuffed out at any moment, or live on hopes and dreams with Beomgyu, praying for the sun to break out from behind the clouds after years of waiting for it to no avail.

“No.” You finally say, looking up at him, trying to be decisive, hoping it will come naturally with time. “No, he’s not. Not anymore. We’ve agreed to be exclusive, you and I, and I’m serious about it.”

Yeonjun's smile is slow, cautious. “Good to hear.”

Do either of you actually believe it? Do you really think you can move on from Beomgyu? You don’t know but you know that you have to try and you know that you'd like to try with Yeonjun.

________________________________

Still, heading home you feel uneasy. Like you'd done something wrong you’re going to get punished for, and so to ease the guilt and tension, you grab something on the way with you–just some donuts and coffee, a small token of peace, knowing Beomgyu would be hungry and that the best way to get into his good graces is to offer him junk food. It's not like he was going to make himself breakfast or anything anyway.

When you step into the apartment, you find him sitting on the couch just as you had expected.

“Wanna eat? I got you your favorite donuts.” You wave the food next to your head in lieu of a greeting.

He stares at you for a few seconds, not saying anything. Shit, does he know? Can he see it on you? Probably, since you’re still wearing Yeonjun’s clothes.

But he just says, “Sure.” and makes room for you on the couch.

You accept it gladly, watching as he takes the donuts out and offers you some. “No, thanks, I already ate.”

Once again, he pauses, studying you for a second before looking away and taking a bite of his donut.

“Ugh, I was starving. This is the real stuff.” He groans and you grin. "Yeah. This is food as God intended it, processed and fried until it barely resembles food." You hum in agreement, making him giggle.

For a second you think you're off the hook. For a second you think things can just be normal like he wanted. But then he asks you something that stops you cold.

"How was the date?"

You study his expression, trying to decipher a hidden agenda in the question. Is this a trick? Is he asking just so he can say something mean about it? Is he going to act vindictive once you tell him how it went?

But he looks genuinely curious to your scrutinizing eyes, and so you decide to just tell him the truth. "Ugh, awful. You know how completely unaware I am of my surroundings? Well, I started criticizing this one photo and the photographer was standing right behind me."

Beomgyu gasps, a piece of food flying out of his mouth at you. "No! What did he say?"

You brush it off in disgust. "He said I was a nobody."

Beomgyu's face twists up in anger as he puts the food down. "What the fuck? He said that?"

"Well, I said it and he just confirmed it." You explain sheepishly, still feeling the sting of the humiliation even now. "He said he has all these awards and I have nothing and never will and he won't listen to someone like me."

"He's a fucking idiot.” Beomgyu rages, immediately jumps to your defense, “What, he thinks just because he has awards that he's the only one who can have an opinion? You know most of these awards are just rich people smelling their own farts, right? Real talent like yours cannot be measured."

Beomgyu is as fiercely defensive of you as he has always been and it brings a small smile to your face. However, the wound that the encounter opened up is still raw and just that isn’t enough to make you feel better.

"Well, I wish it would be measured a little bit. You know we've both been doing this for years but while your band is getting bigger and bigger–and I'm so happy for you–I seem to be getting nowhere." You tell him glumly. You haven’t gotten any recognition for your work even though you work your ass off, dreaming up concepts, executing them to the best of your ability, and trying to get someone to notice.

"Hey, hey, you will. I am certain of it. No one this talented can go unseen for long. They will notice you one day and they will be blown away." He scoots closer to you, holding your face in his warm hands and caressing your cheeks lovingly. "And hey, if all else fails, you always have that backup plan of being our main stylist and photographer. Me and Yeonjun will make sure of it. And not as a sympathy job either but because we truly believe in you."

"You would work with Yeonjun again for me?" You ask, touched. Beomgyu has been very stand-offish with Yeonjun ever since you started dating him. He only interacts with him the bare minimum to still allow the band to function. It’s not ideal but at least they’re not fighting anymore.

"I would do anything for you." He smiles at you, the smile not quite reaching his sad eyes.

Has his eyes always looked like this? So melancholic? Still, you feel comfort looking into them. You feel love and familiarity. You feel home.

You do your best not to tear up, knowing if you let that dam crumble you'll end up saying things you'll regret. So you hold it together, despite how much you ache to throw yourself in his arms. You missed this. You missed him. You miss what you wish you could be.

But then he takes his hand away and asks quietly, “Did you spend the night with him?”

“Yes.” You admit in a small voice, heart hammering against your chest.

“Got it.” He says simply, and it’s somehow worse than him getting angry. There is a sense of loss there that you can’t explain but it aches, deep and inaccessible.

“Thanks for the food.” He says, getting up and throwing the rest of it in the trash.

"Wait. Where are you going?” You ask when you see him heading for the door.

“Out.” He says simply, seeming to be in a hurry to leave but you’re not ready to let him go yet. “Can't you stay for a bit?"

"I'm sorry. I've got something to get to. But I'll catch up with you later, okay?" He doesn’t even wait for you to answer before he’s out of the door.

“Okay.” You mumble quietly to yourself, letting the tears fall freely, having no reason to hide them anymore.

_____________________________

A/N: AHHHH two more chapter left. the end is nigh and only one boy can win. as always feedback gives me the motivation to write and upload faster. also just to let you know i will be giving patreon a try and an alternative ending to this fic will be published with the losing boy there.

Back to our regularly scheduled programming. which boy do you want oc to end up with (voting has no bearing on the final results though i guess now it doesn't matter because we'll have an alternative ending anyway)

Taglist: @blxxsss @sanasour @tinkw1nks @lol6sposts @zuzuhasablog @beomsl @seolis-world @stantxtorurmissingout @wonwooz1@yaorzu-blog@allylikesdabee@rkivezzs@malieno @leviathanlee26 @yomomas-stuff @kurisaiyunobara @girlwholovekpop @zuzuhasablog @viaaasdiary @ho3forkpop @skzvcr @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n @izzyexe @boomfrogg @kpop-cakepops-recs @chronicallygyu @girlwholovekpop

#txt smut #tomorrow x together smut #dom!idol #sub!reader #fem!reader

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jazziejax · 5 months ago

Text

𝐀𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲

𝐌𝐬.𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥

Pairings- Black!OC x Abbott Elementary Cast, later Black!OC x Manny (Can be read as x Reader though!)

Summary- Pilot Episode Experience with Naoya Lovel

Warnings- Swearing, kids, mixed race reader( those aren’t warnings really, just what to expect)

Jazzie’sNotes!- let me know what you guys think!! I’ve been really obsessed with Abbott Elementary recently and I’m contemplating if I want to write S1&S2 just to get to the Manny season. I want to get there fast but I know what won’t be possible with two seasons worth of writing. Let me know what you guys think I should do.

Word Count- 6,358

“Okay, so you wouldn't put the number on the bottom because that's what?” The older woman asked, drawing out her words as she stood in front of her fourth-grade class, pointing at the whiteboard behind her with her yardstick.

“The denominator.” The class answered.

“Correct, and what do we call the one on top?”

“The numerator.”

“Yes! You guys are killing this lesson.” She smiled as she placed her hands on her hips. She caught the camera crew in the corner of her eyes and then turned to them. “Or should I say I’m killing this lesson?” She smirked, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she posed. It was silent for a moment as they all watched her just smile.

“Wouldn’t you agree?” She’s asked, looking at one of the guys behind the camera. He nodded, moving the camera along with him, causing her to smile and adjust her glasses. “Why, thank you.”

“Hello! My name is Naoya Lovel. Pronounced Now-Ya, it’s Japanese because I’m half Japanese. Don’t ask why I’m half Japanese in Philly, it’s a long story.” She sighed as she shook her head.

“Well, actually, let me tell you the story because it’s actually kind of crazy.” She chuckled, starting to explain, but it then cut to another clip of her in the class.

“Ms.Lovel, we ran out of paper towels.” A student said, standing in front of her desk with paint on the palms of his hands. Noaya looked up, at him, a slight frown on her face. “Ohh, okay, well I have some in my desk.” She started, pulling open her desk drawer. The camera angled down to catch the empty towel box staring back at her. She smirked up at them awkwardly and shrugged her shoulders. “What, I have a constant runny nose.”

“As a teacher, you teach kids how to solve problems while solving your own. In your personal life and at school. And in this school, there are a lot.”

“Ms.Lovel, I need paper towels too.” Another student said, showing her blue and pink palms to her teacher. Noaya then stood from her seat, looking around her room. “Okay, okay class. Give me one sec.” She said, nervously looking around her room to solve her paper towel problem. She the. Saw a stray beach towel near the window on her small bookshelf. “Oh! Here we are, guys.” She said, rushing over to the towel and snatching it up.

“This could be a lesson too.” She smiled excitedly and grabbed a pair of large scissors from her desk. “I probably shouldn’t have these just sitting out.” She mumbled to herself, giving the camera a sideways glance. “So class, this is going to be a hands-on moment. If there are almost thirty of you, how many pieces would I need to cut this into for you guys to share?” She asked, looking at all of them. There was a moment before anyone said anything, the kids thinking over their answer. Then, some of their hands shot up. Naoya flashed the cameras behind her a quick smile before turning back to the kids.

“Noaya, Jacob, and I came in last year with 20 other teachers. We’re three of the four left so…trauma bonding, I guess?” Janine said, in regards to the other girl.

“Yeah, I taught for two years before I got here, I transferred from Addington to here because those people are a bunch of stuck-up freaks who are just in it for a little extra on their check.” She said with a smirk. “And that’s not what I’m here for, I’m here to change lives.” She boated, folding her arms.

“Hey, Melissa, can you please tell “Ta-Nehisi Quotes” here that “white boy” is a term of endearment from the corner store people?” Janie said as she walked into the break room on the second floor.

“Ooh, cheese steaks?” Naoya questioned as she looked up from her papers, knowing the full situation after only hearing the words ‘white boy’ and ‘corner store’.”

“For Zach Ertz, yeah.” Melissa started, turning around with a fresh cup of coffee in her hands. “For him. It’s an insult.” She smirked, then paused at the sight of the cameras in her face.

“Well, you guys, I need a new rug. Mine is officially done.” Janie said.” Coming take a seat right next to the working woman.

“Mhmm! Me too.” Jacob started, taking a seat on the other side of her. “I shook mine out and all the asthma kids had to go to the nurse's office.” This conversation caused her to raise her head, placing her work aside and adjusting her glasses as she listened.

“Yeah, mine’s busted.” Melissa started. “And you can’t class up a rug like you can a couch with a nice coat of plastic.”

“You guys have rugs? All we have is a little mat.” Naoya started, looking between all of them. They all cringed at her words, but couldn’t say more before someone’s loud voice cut through the air.

“Hey-yo! What it does, baby-boo?” Ava yelled as she walked into the break room and over to where they were sitting. “What yall think about this little film crew I bought in here.”

“Distracting makes our jobs harder,” Melissa said disinterestedly, shooting the crew a glare.

“I wish I would have known this was going to be a video thing, I would have made myself look better,” Naoya mumbled, causing the camera to turn her way. She smiled, making her face appear happier than usual.

“But exciting. We about to be on TV.” Ava said, looking between them all.

“Because they are covering underfunded, loosely managed, public schools in America.” Barbra interrupted in a matter-of-fact tone.

“No press is bad press, Barb.” Ava practically disregarded the woman’s claim, continuing to smile at the camera. “Look at Mel Gibson. Still thriving.” She laughed. “ “Daddy’s Home 2”? Hilarious!” She looked around the room, either expecting people to laugh with or or just so confined in her large ego that she didn’t care if they laughed or not.

“Ava’s the worst person I know,” Noaya stated. “I’ve never seen her show an ounce of care about anything other than money. Which is a terrible mindset to have as a principal because you’re literally in the brokeest position of power.”

“There you are.” Ms.Schwartz sighed as she rushed into the room, spotting Ava. “Ava, can I talk to you?” The woman was out of breath as she stood before the principal, and her attire was disheveled. “I-I need an aid. I’m outnumbered there. The kids are crazy.” She ranted this wild look in her eyes. “One of the kids told me to ‘mind my six’ this morning, I don’t know what that means! I need help!” She ranted. Ava placed and hand on her shoulder.

“Calm down.” The darker woman said, cutting Ms. Schwartz off. “They’re just kids. And, besides, aids cost money, and we don’t have that.” She said before flashing a quick smile at the cameras. “Right, but I just—” Ms. Schwartz started again.

“Do you want to split your salary with somebody else?” Ava asked, leaning closer and angling both of them away from the cameras.

“No.” The other woman said dejected.

“No!” Ava cut her off before she could continue to rant. “No, I didn’t think so.”

“Well, if we can’t get aides, maybe we can get new rugs?” Janine chimed up, standing from her seat.

“All I’m hearing is “new, new, new, need, need, need,” Ava answered. “And yet, Barb, one of our best and most senior teachers here.” She continued, walking over to the older woman who sat at the table with Melissa and drank her coffee. “She never complains. What is your secret, Barb?”

“Knowing there’s not much you can do, Ava.” The woman said with a sarcastic smile. But Ava didn’t care to hear her condescending tone.

“So understanding.” The principal smiled, looking around the room. “Be like Ms.Howard, people.” That was all she said before she left the room.

Noaya shook her head as she started to collect her things, knowing the bell would be ringing anytime soon.

“But, I’m not Ms.Howard.” Ms.Schwartz cried from where she stood.

“Ohh, Tina, look.” Janine started, walking over to the stressed woman. “Try some counting exercises, between one and forty the kids start to quiet down.” The other woman gave a slight nod before she exited the room, still in obvious distress. “You, know, a little support might help make things happen, ladies,” Janie said, turning around to face the older two women in the room.

“My support was gonna do about as much as that five-year-old bra you’ve got on right there,” Barbra said as she pushed in her chair. The camera then cuts to Naoya staring at the camera, her jaw clenched. Janine looked down at her chest for a slip second, before covering it up with her sweater and deciding to ignore the woman’s bra statement. “Hey, it’s not impossible to get things. Melissa asked for those new toy cash registers for her classroom and got them.”

“Yeah, those aren’t toys.” The Italian woman stared as she put on her coat. “I know a guy who wired a Walmart demolition. I got a guy for everything. I know a guy right now working on the stadium build. Need rebar?” She asked, looking around the room.

Noya just shook her head.

“No,” Janine answered.

“Melissa is resourceful, capable.” Ms. Howard started, looking between all the younger teachers. Naoya’shead jerked back at what she was insinuating but before she could say anything, Janine placed a hand on her shoulder and started talking.

“Well, I think the younger teachers are capable.”

“Really? Then why is it that Ms.Schwartz’s hair is falling out? Why does Jacob here need a smoking break every five minutes?” The woman sassed, gesturing over to the male beside her.

“I switched to an herbal vape.” He tried to defend himself.

“And why can’t any of you stick it out longer than two years? More turnovers than a bakery.” She hissed before her and Melissa walked out of the door. Once it shut behind them, Naoya turned to her friends beside her.

“I almost lose my job every day dealing with the people here.” She shook her head, resting her butt on the table behind her, the other two following suit.

“You know what? Hell, I think we should still try for rugs.” Jacob’s said.

“Yeah.” Janine agreed.

“You know, before I taught here, I was in Zimbabwe.” Jacob started, causing Noaya to stand up completely and begin to walk to the door. “I was going Teachers Without Boarders, and what I learned—.”

“Jacob.” Noaya cut in, turning to face the two of them. “What did we say you about, like, not talking about your time in Africa?” She said, gesturing between her and Janine. The boy stuttered, trying to come up with an appropriate answer.

“We told you to stop. Yeah, it’s weird.” Janine finished, looking over at the male.

“I have an immense amount of respect for my elders, including the ones I work with.” Naoya smiled at the cameras. “But Mrs.Howard has a smart mouth on her. A mouth that has never been directed at me.” She continued to smile, although strained, and raised her hands in mock defense. “But the day it is the day I got to prison.” And although she was finished, she was cut off by the sound of quick hurried footsteps making their way around the corner. She turned around just in time to catch Janine with a student.

“Noaya, come quick, there’s a fight.” The older woman got out as best as she could, although out of breath. Naoya ran around the corner, practically leaving the child and shirt woman in the dust.

“Damn, she’s fast,” Janine said, briefing glancing at the kids next to her before rushing to follow the running woman.

“What the hell is going on here?” Naoya yelled as she entered the hectic scene with a bat in her hands. She saw the crazed look the teachers were giving her and she shrugged. “I heard there was a fight, I brought it just in case.”

“Where did you get that? I was right behind you.” Janie asked, out of breath with her hands on her knees.

“I didn’t know she had it in her like that.” Melissa nodded a proud smirk on her lips. “I like her.”

“That’s beside the point, what happened?” Naoya asked, looking at the older white woman standing in front of a child. “He hit me first!” Ms.Schwartz said, pointing at the boy across from her.

“Liar!” The boy yelled back at her, being held back by Ms.Howard.

“I’m a liar? I'M A LIAR?” Ms.Schwartz asked a crazed look in her eyes, her gaze solely trained on the little boy.

“I can’t believe she hit a kid,” Noaya said, shock written all over her face as she folded her arms. “I mean, I threaten that I will but I never actually do it.” She shrugged.

“Okay!” Ava yelled, interrupting the conversation between the small group of teachers. “So, not good. Ms.Schwartz was out of line and clearly didn’t know how to handle her class.” The woman sighed.

“You hired her.” Melissa spat back.

“And fired her,” Ava responded. “They give me a lot of power around here. It’s crazy.” The woman smirked.

Melissa and Noaya both gave the camera a look of disbelief.

“In the meantime, Mr.Johnson will be watching her class.” Ava finished.

“Mr.Johnson the janitor?” Naoya spoke up. “Our conspiracy theorist janitor? Teaching social studies? Do we not see the problem with this?” She asked, looking around at the group.

“I think maybe we should alert the school district to this,” Jacob spoke up, getting spins of approval from the rest. “I mean, a child was harmed.” He tried to finish before Ava cut in.

“Hey! Harmed?” She questioned. “I handled this. No need to let them know that a child was harmed on my wa—” She stopped, remembering that she was being recorded, and looked towards the camera. “On the school's watch, to be clear.” She clarified.

“Ava, this is not handled,” Janine spoke up. “There is a 70-year-old custodian who voted for Kanye teaching social studies right now.” The woman stressed, pointing down the hall. “We need help. Look, I know we don’t have any money—“

“Okay!” Ava cut her off. “Alright. I’ll make a small emergency budget request to the district, and then you guys can get pencils and hire aides or whatever else you need.”

“So, even rugs?” Janine asked her entire demeanor from earlier changing at the woman’s words.

“Sure! Just email a request.” Ava replied.

“Okay! I can- I can write an email.” Janine smiled excitedly.”

“Another day in principal life.” Ava smiled at the cameras before walking away, horribly singing some old song. “I believe the children are our future.”

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“Um…Hello?” An unfamiliar voice called out as she came into the school building, making their way to stand in front of the desk. “I’m looking for Ms.Coleman.” The man said. Melissa looked up at him. “Oh, yeah she’s—“ She was cut off by Ava rushing up next to her.

“Hello.” Again said flirtatiously, looking the man up and down.

“Hi, I’m Gregory Eddie. I’m the sun for the teacher who, uh…” He trailed off, looking down at the papers he pulled from his briefcase. “Pinter a student.” The man said worriedly, looking back up at her.

“Oh! You’re the sub.” Ava said. “Forgive me, I thought one of my colleagues here hired a stripper for me.” Ava laughed off, dismissing the looks Melissa and Barbra gave her. “Okay.” That was all Gregory could say to that, giving the woman obvious judgmental looks.

“Nice to meet you, young man.” Barbra offered him a kind smile.

“Yeah, nice to meet you, Ryan,” Melissa said, staring at the together papers.

“It’s Gregory.”

“Eh, let’s see how long you’ll be here.” She said, only flexing up after she was done stapling. “Then I’ll remember your name. Okay, Tim?”

Gregory didn’t even have time to fully digest the interactions he just had with the women before him before Jacob came around the corner. “Yes!” He smiled, stalking up to the man. “My dude.” He said, arms open for some sort of hug but was cut short by Gregory putting his hand out. “Oh, yeah,” Jacob said, placing his hand on the one offered out to him. “Keeping it profesh. I like that.” He smiled, leaning against the counter. “I’m Jacob. It’s nice to see another male teacher in here. It’s not a lot of us. Hey, now I got somebody to talk sports with. You like women’s tennis?” The paler man asked, before shooting the camera a sideways glance. “Or, as I call it, you know, regular tennis.”

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Naoya was walking the halls, whistling a tune with her bad over her shoulders when she came across a tall, good-looking man in a gray sweater. Hearing her, the man turned around to see a tall, light-skinned woman with a large, light brown puff ponytail at the back of her head. She had on specs that covered most of her face, enlarging her eyes. She was dressed in a slightly baggy pair of dark wash denim jeans with brown shoes that matched the brown in her green sweater, paired with a white shirt underneath. Seeing the mysterious man, she furrowed her brows at him from down the hall.

“Uh, hello.” The man waved awkwardly from down the hall.

Naoya waved back as she made her way closer to the man. “Uh, hi. Are you lost?” She asked, slowing down when she got in front of him. “In a school building?…And smelling like pee and/or vomit. I’m calling security.” She started to back up and pull out her phone, or even yell before she stopped and frowned. “Oh wait, I am security.” She said, moving her bat to her good hand getting ready to swing.

“Wait!” The man yelled, sticking out his hands in defense. “I’m a sub! I’m here to fill in for the woman who kicked the kid.” He defended.

Naoya visibly relaxed as she looked the man up and down, taking in his formal attire. “Okay.” She said, dropping her defensive pose. “That still doesn’t explain the smell.” She said, giving the man a disgusted once over. Gregory stuttered to get an answer, embarrassed by the cameras and such an awkward situation in front of another beautiful woman.

“It’s a long story. A broken toilet, a student wet his pants, another one threw up.” The man shrugged, a look of disgust crossing his face as he thought it all over. At his words, Noaya nodded with a look of understanding.

“No, yeah. I get it. Well, um, congratulations on being here considering…” She trailed off, gesturing around the school and then to him. “If you need anything at all, I’m at the very end of the hall. I'm Naoya Lovel, and I teach fourth grade. I’ll be here to help any way I can, I am known for having everything anyone might ever need, so.” She shrugged and began walking away, pat him, and to her class. The man nodded, a sliver of a smile on his face as his eyes stayed trained on the spot she just left. Catching the camera out of the corner of his eye, she quickly straightened up and then turned the opposite way to face her. “May I ask why you’re carrying a bat?” He asked.

Naoya stopped walking, the bad still in her hand as she angled her body slightly to look back at him. “No, you may not.” She said with a smile before continuing to walk away and into her classroom. Gregory just nodded and walked into his room as well.

“Today was utterly disgusting, but she and Janine seem nice.” He smiled slightly.

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“I got a good feeling about this,” Jacob smirked at Naoya and Janine as they and the rest of the teachers gathered outside at the entrance of the school. It had something to do with Ava needing them to see the improvements she made to the school. “Right? Me too!” Janine said excitedly. Naoya rolled her eyes, stuffing her hands in her pockets due to the cold weather.

“I wish I could live in the blissful ignorance you guys call optimism.” She said, looking between her two friends. They only rolled their eyes at the girl, who was usually a pessimistic person, so they didn’t take her words too seriously.

“Good morning!” Ava said to all the teachers before her, who were obviously in no good mood. “Good Morning!” Janine was the only one to respond.

“Gregory.” Ava finished, giving the man a look. Noaya furrowed her brows slightly, throwing the man a sideways glance.

“The district was so moved by my plea that they approved the emergency budget and sent us the money right away,” Ava said to the group. The crowd started clapping, Jacob and Janine were genuinely happy while most were in shock that the district pulled through.

“Okay, we could have hired aides, we could have got rugs.” Ava continued as the clapping died down. “But then I thought, “No. We need something more immediate.” She said, her words causing Naoya to nod her head as she began slowly making her way away from the group. She knew this wasn’t going to end well, and this was her stopping herself from throwing her loafers at Ava’s head.

“Oh, no, no. The rugs are immediate.” Janie spoke up. “They’re like instant Xanax for kids. I explained it all in my email.” She told the group as she made her way to extract her phone from her purse.

“Girl, who told you to send an email?” Ava asked, looking down the steps at the shorter woman. Jannie stopped what she was doing and glared at Ava. “You did.” She hissed, looking at her confused.

“Anyways, I always feel better when I get my hair done.” Ava continued, not caring for what Janine had to say, as she showed off her new blonde number. “Thus, I do better work, like I’m doing now.” She smiled at them. “You know, fix the outside, the inside takes care of itself.” She then gestured up to the giant tarp over the building, the man pulling it down to show a sign.

It was a giant Willard R. Abbott Elementary sign with Ava on it, leaning onto the letters. The teachers just stood there and looked up at the sign, no words were said between any of them. But they all had the same thought.

What the fuck?

“Yall seeing this?” Ava asked, copying her pose that was on the sign.

“A plastic sign?” Janine asked, looking between the woman and the sign.

“Thank God for the school district, because they gave us $3,000 and I had to spend all of it.” Ava said as if she didn’t care about the severity of the words she just said.

“You spent all of the money on this?!” Janie asked in disbelief.

“Rush job, can you believe this quality?” The terrible principal continued.

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“This is fucking ridiculous, she has gone too far,” Naoya said as she, Jacob, Janine, and Gregory rushed back into the school.

“Somebody needs to do something before I get my bat back out. Actually, Forget the bat, I’m gonna go get a gu—.”

“Okay! Yes.” Jacob cut her off, trying to ignore the scared look Noaya received from Janine and Gregory, while she just continued to sit in her anger, not even seeing them. “Somebody, anybody but you, should do something.” The man said to the angry woman.

“You know what. I’m gonna do something.” Janine said, as stored up and Naoya. Well, maybe not as much but still fired up.

“Okay, alright. Whatever you do, I will co-sign it.” Jacob encouraged. “Yes!” Janine said. “That is how change works. Someone does something and somebody co-signs it.” He finished.

“I want Jannie to succeed in what her plan is because Ava needs to be out in her place, “professionally”, or whatever Jacob said,” Naoya stated, rolling her eyes. “But I also want her to prove something to Barb. For her sake. Because Janine really needs a mother figure in her life and the constant groveling for Barb’s praise is starting to make me want to choke.” She finished with a shrug. “That’s my girl though, I love her.”

“Hey, you two, wait up! I’m going out to lunch too.” Janie called out to Melissa and Bard as they walked down the hall. The camera caught Naoya, who rolled her eyes at the situation she was just talking about making an appearance as she walked after Janine.

“Oh yeah, where are you going for lunch pip-squeak? Bird feeder?” Melissa joked, putting her purse over her shoulder.

“Thought you’d be working on your next miracle from Saint Ava.” Barbra pushed.

“Ha ha, No.” The shorter woman defended herself. “I don’t think I’ll need anything from Ava ever again.” Janine smiled, her words causing the other three women to look confused.

“What does that mean?” Naoya chimed in from behind them, ready to go out for lunch as well.

“Well, I emailed the superintendent and told him everything Ava has done today. No way she doesn’t get fired.” Janie bragged.

“Oh, for the lives of God.” Melissa groaned.

“Janine,” Noaya said in disappointment. “This is why I told you to tell me.”

“What?” She asked, looking between the three women.

“The superintendent never sees our emails,” Barbra told her. “He has them bounced back to the person in charge of where they came from.”

“Wait, I’m sorry.” Janie stared. “Person in charge? That means the emails go back to…” She trailed off, the dots connecting. Just in time for said person to come in the intercom with an announcement.

“Teachers, it’s come to my attention that some of you—one of you—.” Ava clarified, looking through the glass of her office at the group of women standing at the door, her eyes trained on one in particular. “Think it’s okay to go over my head. So, during lunch break—this lunch break—we’ll be having a trait workshop so that we can learn how to become a woke family.” The woman was clearly pissed off, glaring at Janine from where she sat. “It’s gonna be fun!”

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“We are at a crossroads, this is a crisis,” Ava stressed as she stood before the hired group of teachers.

“No, a crisis is eating the cafeteria pizza for lunch.” Naoya chimed in from where she sat in the back.

“Uh, why are we here, exactly?” Gregory asked his seat right in front of hers.

“Well, chocolate drop.” Ava started, causing Naoya to snicker at the name. “I learned that someone here doesn’t respect me. But it’s not about me. Because if you don’t respect me, how can you respect this school?” She continued, causing them all to look at her confused as such a stupid correlation. But, it looks like Ava took that as a look of confusion due to her question.

“You can’t. It’s mathematically impossible.” She finished.

“W-Whoa. Who doesn’t respect you, Ava—I mean, the school?” Jacob asked.

“Me,” Naoya said but seemed to be completely ignored.

“It’s not important. We’re gonna make this a group matter so as too not to single any one person out.” The woman answered him. “Let’s try an excuse where we say whatever we want out loud to each other, no matter how critical. It’ll be fun, let’s start with Janine.” She said, looking over at the short woman who was practically shrinking in on herself.

“Janine?” She asked, smirking evilly.

“Yes?” Janine asked dejectedly, knowing that this whole situation was her fault and knowing that Ava did the exact thing she said she didn’t want to. Single her out.

“You’re pushy, squeaky and annoying,” Ava stated.

Collective disagreement was heated around the room.

“Excuse me?” Melissa piped up.

“Thaya just…” Gregory said.

“When is it my turn?” Naoya asked, starting to take her earring out of her ear.

“No, it’s not bad. No.” Ava defended. “We’re shaking to make us all better. Constructive. Hershey kiss, why don’t you try, start with Janine.” She pushed.

“I don’t want to.” The man sighed.

“You’re right, it should be someone who knows her better. Noaya, Jacob, Barbra?” She asked, looking between the two.

“When is it your turn? I wanna go when it’s your turn.” Naoya stated, folding her arms to keep herself at bay. Gregory glanced back, seeing the look of pure hatred on her face.

“Well, her hair is—“ Jacob started before getting cut off.

“Not!” Noaya and Barba said at the same time, the younger more so talking to her friend next to Janine, who gave the man next to her a look of disbelief.

“Ava, no one’s doing this to anyone.” Melissa started, looking at the woman before her.

“Hold on, I came prepared for this. Sheena, come on in.” Ava said, looking behind her to a student who was sitting behind the library desk.

“Ava, that is my student, she should be at lunch right now,” Janine complained, as everyone in the room looked at the little girl, trying to see what Ava's plan was.

“I am kinda hungry.” The little girl sighed, begrudgingly walking closer to the woman.

“Sheena, remember what we talked about? What was the thing that you wished was different about Ms.Teagues?” Ava asked the little girl. She just stood there, not knowing what to say as the whole room waited on her.

“She got some big feet.” Mr.Johnson chimed in from the very back of the children’s library where he was sweeping.

“Okay.” Janine sighed before standing from her seat. “Everyone, that’s enough. I am the person who disrespected Ava. I emailed the superintendent to tell him that she spent the school's money on a sign.”

“And got her hair done,” Naoya said, Janine, gesturing over to her in agreement.

“I’m sorry, Ava.” She continued. “And I’m sorry everyone missed lunch, especially you, Sheena. But I didn’t it because I care about the kids in this school, and that shouldn’t be a bad thing.” She ranted. “I—Okay. You know what.” She sighed, done talking. She felt as if no one was listening anyway and just wanted to leave. She was on her way out before turning back around. “Sheena, you should have this. I’m sorry.” She said, handing the school pizza over to the girl.

“Uh, no thank you.” The girl said, shaking her head. Janine just sighed again and turned to leave.

Ava chuckled as she watched the girl walk off, shaking her head. “Not a compelling speaker.” She smirked as she shook her head. “Charisma vacuum, am I right?”

Noaya cracked her neck as she stood up. The teachers in front of her filmed a little at the sound and her sudden movements. But she ignored that. “You know what, Ava? I was going to whoop your ass in the parking lot, and as much satisfaction as that would bring me, I don’t want to lose my job. Because I care about these kids. Just like Janine. And she may be a lot of things, like naive, a bit clingy and too cheerful—.”

“Ooh, this is good stuff, let me call her back in here,” Ava smirked as if she didn’t hear the first part of the girls’ speech.

“But she is also right.” Barba cut in, standing up with Naoya. “You know, actually wanting to help the children at this school shouldn’t be a bag thing.” The older woman finished for her. Afterwards, both her and Naoya walked out, letting Ava sit with their words.

They walked out to find the girl in front of her classroom, looking through the window. “Janine, ignore Ava. Big feet are a sign of fertility.” Barbra stated.

“I’m telling you to just give me the signal, I can have her framed for mur—something.” The light skinned girl said, catching herself in front of the cameras.

“Every lunch period, guys.” Was all Janine said before stepping out of their way to show the inside of her class. They both looked in seeing a little boy napping on his jacket, as the library door sounded again. “Every single one, Amir comes and naps in the rug.” She said, informing the whole group as Melissa, Jacob and Gregory joined.

“Mm-hmm. He was in my class.” Barbra said with a fond smile on her face. Mom’s got a lot of kids. Dad’s not around and when she is, the parents fight.”

“Right, so he doesn’t get much sleep. I told him to sleep at his desk, but she says that rug is softer—.” The shirt woman paused, trying to get emotional over the whole situation. “Softer than his bed at home.” There was a moment of silence as all the adults sat with her words. It’s hard hearing about the life of the kids you see everyday, knowing they live lives no one should. And knowing it’s on you to create a better life for them at school.

“You know what? I don’t care I you think I’m good at this or not anymore. I care about whether or not I can make a change.” Janine told Barbra as sternly as she could, which wasn’t a lot.

“Janine.” The woman started. “Teachers at a school like Abbott— we have to be able to do it all. We are admin, we are social workers, we are therapists, we are second parents. Hell, sometimes we’re even first.”

“Mm-hmm.” Melissa agreed.

“Why?” Barbra continued. “It sure ain’t the money.”

“Yup. I can make more working the street, easy.” Melissa chimed in. Causing Jacob and Naoya to look at each other in concern.

“Prostitution?” She mouthed over to the man, who shrugged.

“Look, we do this ‘cause we’re supposed to.” Melissa said to Janine. “It’s a calling. You answered.”

They all looked at eachother fondly, before Jacob started.

“I believe it was Brother Cornel West—“

“No.”

“Don’t.”

“Not right now, white boy.”

They all told him, causing the man to retreat back to his corner.

“You want to know my secret?” Barbra asked, ringing the subject back to where it was. “Do everything you can for your kids.” She smiled. “We’ll help. Hey, I suggest we put our money together and buy Janine the rug.” The older woman encouraged. “What yall think?”

“Absolutely.” Melissa said, pulling out her wallet.

“Guys, you can’t.” Janine started, looking between them. “You don’t have it. I know because I have the same salary as you and I overdrafted on a doughnut hole this morning.”

“Don’t tell me how much money I have.” Noaya stated, holding her hand out as a halt to the girl's words. “I do not claim that broke energy.”

“Well, why are you gonna do?” Barbra asked. “Steal a rug?”

“Not me, but I know a guy who knows a guy?” Janie trailed off, looking between Noaya and Melissa. The light skinned girl raised her hands. “I don’t know a cute guy that can steal that many carpets that fast.” She shrugged, a hopeless look on her face as she glanced at Melissa.

“Way ahead of you.” The woman said as she started typing into her phone. “I’m gonna have to bake a ziti.” She said, holding the phone up to her ear. “Hey, Tony, ya big strung, listen, you still working that stabiuk build?” She said into the device as she walked away from the group.

Sometime later, a guys pulled up in a truck around back with a bunch of rugs for them. They all celebrated, going one by one to grab a rug. “Yay! I finally have one! My room was so depressing.” Naoya said as she waked down the hall with her rug.

“You’re on a mission.” Gregory stated, looking at the shorter girl in between him and Noaya. “It’s cool to see.”

“Thank you. Just a day in the life of being a teacher here. You get used to it.” Janine smiled.

“And that smell in the walls?” He asked, pointing.

“Oh no, you’re never gonna get used to that. Sometimes I wish I had a bad nose like Naoya.” She joked, elbowing the girl next to her. The taller woman lightly groaned. “Janine, you know that’s a big insecurity of mine. I have a fear of smelling bad.” The half Japanese girl tried to clarify to the male. “You’re subbing to go full time right?” She asked, wanting to change the subject.

“Um, we’ll see.” He said as they all briefly stopped in the hallway. “This job definitely surprises me.”

“Well, I hope you stay.” Janine said. “For the kids.” She clarified. Naoya shot a quick glacé to the camera, a small smirk on her face. She then decided to walk away. The camera caught Gregory’s eyes jumping from both women walking away, a small smile on his face. He then looked in the camera and dropped his expression.

“I’ll stick around for a while.” He said. “You know, for the kids.”

“Look guys!” Naoya said as she rolled out her shakes rug for her students. They all celebrated, clapping excitedly at the fact that they had a rug now.

“Ms.Lovel, I hate the egales.” One student said, standing next to the woman.

“Yeah, me too, kid. But don’t tell anyone I said that.” She said, patting the top of their head as Ava walked past her door. She paused at the sight of the rugs. Naoya placed her hands on her hips and cocked her neck, making Ava glare at the woman for a quick second before walking away.

“And that kids, is how you get rid of the enemy without fighting.” She said, pointing around the room to make sure they were watching. “Now that we have a rug, let’s watch that nature documentary!” She said excitedly, causing all the students to yell with excitement well.

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kallista-diune · 4 months ago

Text

Suprise... - part 1

Words count - 1319

OC name is Via, sorry I can't force myself yet to change habits 😅 White hair are specific for a reason, but you can imagine the rest of her appearance as you like.

My first concept changed a lite since the Imagine blurb. Second part won't be fast unfortunately, sorry :( I'm still learning to write stories in English, it probably would be much longer and faster if I was writing in my native language.

_______

Mae just stormed out from the abandoned house which was currently their hideout on the planet Kiros. Nice, quiet forests, safe lakes, small cities. The door slammed behind her, making the two other remaining people flinch. White haired woman looked over at her partner with annoyance in her eyes.

“I swear, if the Master wouldn't punish me later, I would smack her head with anything heavy…” She said and the man chuckled.

“She's young and rebellious. She likes to think we are beneath her, less important. I’m used to it and just continue to do my job.

“Maybe. But I really don't like how she is treating you, Qimir. You are such an intelligent man, without you she wouldn't even know where to go or look.”

“Without us Snowflake.” Qimir pointed at her. Again with that nickname… Via tried very hard not to show how much his little nicknames messed with her heart. “Don't forget that your connection to nature in the Force is very helpful for her, me and our Master. We are both important to him.”

“I'm trying to really believe him when he praises me… But… never mind. We should get to sleep. She exhausted me…”

“He never praises without meaning it. You know how he is.” Qimir offered her a warm smile. “But yeah we should hit the pillow. I guess you're sleeping next to the wall?”

“Yes, mister radiator. Have I ever mentioned that I would freeze long ago without you?” Via laughed and got up from the floor.

“Every time we go somewhere where it's cold at night. “ Qimir playfully rolled his eyes and followed her to their shared makeshift bed.

They didn't even bother to change, always ready to run if something would happen. Via took her place and a moment after Qimir was laying beside her, his back facing her front. Always respectful. At least at the beginning… Throughout the night, he was often changing positions, sometimes ending up cuddling her. Usually when the night was really cold. Via didn't know if it was for his own need of heat or somehow he sensed her shiver. Her home planet was hot and humid which was the reason why she was even less resistant to low temperatures.

It was such a good thing their Master knew or probably sensed through the Force her struggles, and he always gave her additional covers when she was sleeping on his island while training. Who knew he actually had at least a string of compassion in him.

Qimir on the other hand was just sweet and caring, but he couldn't know what those little hugs were doing to her. She was hiding her feelings for so long… Despite his somewhat unkempt appearance, he was a handsome man. His smile brightens up any blue day and her heart skipped a beat every time. His little playful head tilts accompanied with his signature single brow raise without a fail made her laugh every time. He liked to watch her braid her hair into a crown-like style around her head, sometimes helping if her hands were too stiff from the cold. She welcomed his closeness every time, trying so hard not to show her excitement. If he was hinting to her he was in fact interested in her, she was oblivious. Her mind was somewhat clouded with fear. Fear of being rejected or scolded by their Master for creating a relationship among his subjects.

This night was a nightmare. It was getting colder and colder, wind bringing unpleasant waves and Via was not able to fall asleep. She tried very hard to resist and not do something stupid, but her resolve was weakening every passing minute.

“Get your shit together Via… He won’t be mad…” and with that thought she turned, now facing Qimir. He was currently laying on his back, one hand under his head making a perfect opening for her to snuggle closer. So she did. Her heart beating wildly in her chest as the only option was to lay her head on his arm. The moment she does that he stirred awake.

“Hey, what is… oh Maker you are freezing! Come here, poor thing.” Qimir pulled her close, maneuvering her so her head was on his warm chest, her whole body pressed with his. His next move made her heart race as he grabbed the back of her thigh and placed her leg between his. His hands held her tightly, rubbing along her back to warm her up faster.

“I’m s…sorry…”

“Don’t be. It’s okay, I got you Sweetheart.” Qimir kissed her forehead, making her blush and she was hardly able to hold in a gasp. His heat engulfed her, making her slightly relax and finally feel drowsiness.

What she couldn't see was Qimirs signature satisfied half smirk…

_______

“You did good on the last mission, both of you.” The Master spoke, tilting his helmet clad head a little. “Via, go prepare for training, I will discuss Maes new mission. This time you will go alone. Qimir won't accompany you either. This time you will handle things by yourself.”

Via bowed her head and turned to go back to the ship. She couldn't help but smile mischievously, happy that Mae would finally experience doing something without their help. She entered the ship and quickly changed as well as gathered her things knowing she will probably stay here for quite some time. When she was going down the ramp, she saw that Master was nowhere to be seen, but she spotted a very angry looking Mae heading her way.

“What did you two tell him huh?” she stopped less than an arm length before Via.

“What do you mean? I haven’t spoken with the Master until we arrived here.”

“Don't lie to me! Why is he sending me off alone this time then?”

Something snapped inside Via and she venomously responded.

“Suddenly afraid you are not up to the task on your own, Mae?

“Listen here you little shit. You are useless. Week in the Force. Master is taking pity or keeping you for Qimir to fuck when he is bored. I don’t need you.” With that she passed her hitting Via's shoulder angrily with hers. Via held her ground, guarding her thoughts tightly as she walked away from the ship. Mae quickly fired up the ship and started to take off. Only when Via was sure Mae was at a safe distance, her composure dropped. Her knees gave up and she fell on the soft sand. Her eyes watered as her body shook in a silent cry.

Mae was right, she was useless and weak. She never believed in herself even if the Master and Qimir were telling her they needed her and she was wanted.

Suddenly warm strong arms engulfed her body. She was so deep in her head she didn’t even feel her Master's appearance. He pulled her into his lap, cradling her head to the crook of his neck, rubbing lightly her hair and back. She felt even more bad about herself. She tried to pull away in a desperate attempt to save her dignity but he held her firmly in place.

“I am here for you, my Angel. Cry. Let it all out.”

“I…I’m… use…useless M…Master…” Via cried out.

“No. It is a lie you accepted. You know me well enough to know I wouldn't be here right now with you if I shared her opinion.” His voice was gentle, he only ever had that tone with her. After a deep consideration of his words Via slowly nodded against his neck. His embrace felt somehow familiar, the heat of his body, his smell. She felt safe.

“Thank you, Master.” She managed to say clearly and she dared to put her arms around him as well. She couldn't tell how long he held her in his arms, but his hold never lessened.

_______

#qimir #the acolyte #the stranger #qimir x reader #qimir x oc #star wars #star wars the acolyte #manny jacinto #desire #star wars fanfiction

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yoonia · 14 days ago

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🖋️ one your stories that sticks to me the most was the (im)perfect ending. I really wish to see how you visualize their lives after. will Joon ever find out about the baby? will they reunite again? what happens when they do🤭? will Joon finally get his head out of his a** and end his marriage and be true to his feelings 🧐 or will OC has her own happy ending with someone else🤔?

💌 I think other people have said this before, but you are an admirable person that I've ever met online. You've worked hard on your stories and have always given us a lot. even now, you choose to spread positivity and share gifts for others to celebrate your birthday and I think that's the sweetest thing anyone could ever do. happy belated birthday, Dia. You deserve so much happiness and a lot more. I hope your coffee is always hot and your pillow always warm. wishing you and all your precious kitties an abundance of health and joy 💝💝

omg I've been getting the same questions sent to me for this couple, so I guess this might be a good chance to provide some answers for those who have been waiting for it lol

I know that the last letter mentioned in the fic didn't specify how much OC shared about her baby, so I guess this is where we get to see what other things she sent with the letter for Namjoon. I hope you enjoy the snippet and the visualisation below!!

— title: Our Imperfections| pairings: Namjoon x female reader| genre: second chances!au, infidelity!au, post divorce/break-up!au, angst | word count: 1,410 words — summary | Namjoon is on a mission to fix the mess he created. — ratings & warnings | +18 / M for mature; talk about divorce and custody, post break-up, mentions of infidelity

— original: The (Im)perfect Ending by @yoonia — fic drop date: Oct 30th, 2024 — song companion: loved

“Don’t forget that you need to pick up Sunny early Saturday morning for her class camping trip.”

Hearing her voice on the phone, clipped with orders, used to make Namjoon wince. Now he is used to it. Always so business-like, even when talking about their only child.

“Did you get that?”

Her voice returns when he doesn’t answer. He holds back from rolling his eyes and calmly answers. “Yeah, I got that. Saturday morning. Early.”

His reaction isn’t the only thing he is holding back. Asking why six-year-olds would go on a camping trip might only end up with him getting a long lecture through the phone. He doesn’t have that much time to endure that. And having his ear burning from it is really the last thing he needs right now.

“Right. I’ll text you the details.” A sigh, then, “Sunny also wants you to be the one to drive her to school Monday. So I’m packing up extra clothes for her to stay with you another night. Is that good?”

Namjoon closes his eyes. As much as he loves having extra time with his daughter, having the child’s mother schedule their time for him without consulting him first rubs him the wrong way. If he doesn’t know any better, he would have thought that she keeps doing this as a payback. Causing trouble and brushing his ego for choosing to step out of their marriage—the marriage that she had worked so hard to paint as perfect for the world to see.

But Namjoon knows better.

He knows that she has always been this way.

Even when they were still together, she always had to be the one running the show, while Namjoon would have to follow. She was the one holding the pen, writing the story for them through her rose-coloured glasses, while forcing him into a role that he never felt like he could fit into.

At one point, it caused him to lose himself.

Only that he realised it too late. Far too late, because it hadn’t just started when they got married, but long before—when they grew up together and being fed their parents’ beliefs that they would end up together once they turned adults; when they became teenagers and she insisted that it would only be right if they started dating to make their parents’ dreams come true and when she started planning their wedding day just when Namjoon was starting to find a chance to write his own story, to walk a different path, with a completely different person.

It wasn’t until he was able to find his old self and feel like himself again through the mistakes he made when he finally found the courage to leave that life. Yet, once again, he was too late.

Far too late.

“Namjoon? Do you—”

Her voice breaks him out of his wandering thoughts, only for her words to get drowned by the sound of the announcement blaring through the speakers above his head.

“Attention, passengers on Flight 345 with service to Sydney. We are now beginning our boarding process at Gate 12B. Please…”

The voice fades as passengers rush in front of him to find the departure gate, and Namjoon waits until the announcement stops before taking his palm off his phone.

“Where are you? Are you on another business trip?”

Namjoon almost laughs. He finds it hard to believe that after spending an entire fifteen minutes on call with him, she never thought about asking him where he was or where he was up to.

Business as usual. Even when it’s about our new arrangement.

“Australia. I just landed. That’s why I couldn’t take your call until now.”

“Oh…”

“You do realise the longer you’re on this call, the more expensive it will be, don’t you?”

Silence, then her bitter voice is heard. “How was I supposed to know where you were?”

You could have asked.

Sighing, Namjoon shakes his head. “Look, just text or email me all the details about Sunny’s trip. I’ll be back in Seoul Friday afternoon. Okay?”

“Okay.” Her voice softens. “Take care, Namjoon.”

The call ends, and Namjoon breathes a heavy sigh. Feeling exhaustion after speaking to her is one thing, but once it wanes, guilt always seems to take root. It doesn’t matter if he had fallen out of love a long time ago. He cannot deny that he has made too many mistakes that he is still trying hard to make up for. His decision to stay in the marriage for Sunny, using her as an excuse to hang on to the final threads that were offered to him instead of stepping away from that fallen marriage, was his last, yet probably most detrimental for his own mental health and any chance he ever had to make things right for everyone.

Including you.

Hoisting his duffle bag on his shoulder, Namjoon walks across the airport’s lot to find his ride. There is a reason why he is here, and he isn’t going to stop until he finds what he is searching for.

It takes him nearly an hour to reach his destination.

The small coffee shop looks quite inconspicuous as it stands between various other shops downtown, yet it still catches Namjoon’s eyes the moment he arrives.

Quaint and delicate, with natural wooden colours chosen as the accents at the front side of the shop and dark window frames, it reminds him so much of you.

The sound of the bell chimes above his head as he steps in, immediately welcomed by the fresh scent of coffee beans, chocolate, and a bit of cinnamon. Spicy and sweet and pleasantly warm. A young boy with a thick Australian accent welcomes him from the cashier, yet his eyes travel across the room, where the figure that has been filling his dreams at night appears.

Smiling at the young barista, he walks up towards you instead. You have yet to notice him in the room. Your eyes are locked on the small child sitting on the sofa by the corner, swinging his legs as he receives a small sip cup from your hands.

His eyes find him first, looking over your shoulder while you still have your back facing Namjoon and the front door.

“Now you sit tight right here until Mommy finishes work, okay? And don’t—”

“Mama?” the boy cuts you off before you can finish speaking, his chubby finger pointing towards Namjoon, “Da..?”

Your body freezes. Namjoon hears a soft gasp before you straighten up and slowly turn to face him. The moment you see him standing there, your eyes grow wide and you quickly move to hide your son behind you. Only the child is quick, as he hops off the sofa to stand right behind you, clinging onto your legs as he peeks at Namjoon.

A line which he read from your letter echoes in his mind as he returns the boy’s curious gaze, just as it does many nights after you were gone—

“I have a boy. He’s here. He might have a dimple on his cheek too that might show up once he’s grown a bit older. His name is…”

Namjoon bends down. “Sammy, is it?”

The boy, Sammy, slowly nods. Namjoon smiles. “You look handsome. You’re being a good boy to your Mommy now?”

“Yea…”

Chuckling softly, Namjoon straightens up to face you. Your eyes are covered with tears as you look back at him. “How—” you gasp, “What are you doing here?”

Because I’ll chase you to the end of the world if I could.

Those are the words that Namjoon has always wanted to say to you. A promise that he never got a chance to say before you left him. It was a mistake that he had been dreading the most when he first received your letter, along with a copy of your sonogram and your final word of goodbye.

“Keeping a promise,” he merely says. “I think we have a lot to talk about.”

A deep sigh escapes your lips. The sound pains him. But the sight of every tension being lifted from your shoulders gives him a sense of calm.

“I guess we do,” you whisper to him with a broken smile.

A lot of them.

He can almost hear those words coming from you. Just like he almost says out loud,

I have all the time in the world to talk and listen now. For you.

For your fall tune, I think this song will fit perfectly well for this.

𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖋𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖆𝖉𝖊: dia’s birthday bash 2024 ⇝ closed!

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sl-newsie · 4 months ago

Text

Melted Mind (Dr. Spencer Reid x OC Coworker)

Summary: The team checks into a hotel and one of their coworkers has never used a sauna, leading to late night shenanigans. (Hinting at intimacy towards the end)

“You’ve never used a sauna?”

I’ve had a lot of strange and unusual conversations with the BAU but this has got to be a very random one. I guess one half-mention of never having used a sauna seems to be the hot topic of tonight.

I shake my head at Emily’s question. “Never had a reason to. I can’t stand being too hot.”

Of course now Spencer has to hop in and give his input. “Saunas actually help us sweat toxins out of our bodies and improve lymphatic drainage. They also reduce stress levels and help strengthen the immune system.”

I love him dearly but he can come in at the worst times. Just because he’s my boyfriend does not mean he can drag me into this too.

Meanwhile Emily is looking at the hotel’s brochure. “There’s one in the pool room. We should try it.”

Um, no. We’ve just spent three hours flying. I feel no need to sit in a boiling hot room with my coworkers.

Quick, grab the suitcase and start walking away. “I think I’m going to relax in my room-”

Morgan grabs my arm. “C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

In the corner of my eye I see JJ and Penelope waving goodbye with cheeky smiles. Hotch has already gone to his room and Rossi avoids the situation by heading for the bar. There’s no getting out of this.

There’s no other way to say it. This is Hell. I won’t sugarcoat it.

I don’t care how Emily tries to sell this as a good thing because it’s a ‘steam sauna.’ Spencer’s facts from earlier have completely flown the coop because thinking about the positive health benefits of sweating is the last thing on my mind. All I can think of is drinking water and staying alive.

“I’m melting.” We’ve been here for half an hour and I’m already slumped in the corner.

“You look like a lava lamp."

My glare can burn through walls. “Thanks, Morgan.”

“That swimsuit is really cute,” Emily comments. “But why wear a shirt over it?”

The suit I packed is my patriotic one. A one-piece suit with blue and white stars at the top cascading into red and white stripes. When we met up in the hall I threw on a swim shirt and I guess that raised a few eyebrows. Why? I don’t know.

“Some call it image paranoia, I call it modesty. I will not walk around half-naked in a hotel lobby.” Technically my onepiece could count as a leotard but it’s still not modest.

Emily snickers. “Between you and Reid both you guys could give a lecture on social etiquette.”

“I’m giving a lecture?”

Reid pokes his head in and a wave of cold air washes over me. It’s Heaven! But it’s only a split second because he closes the door and I’m submerged in the moist prison once more. He hops up on the seat next to me and from the look he gives me I can tell he’s looking to see if I’m still alive. I think I am. Maybe.

“Here’s the boy genius!” Morgan claps and gestures to my limp body’s presentation of a corpse. “What do you think of this lovely swimsuit?”

Why? Why did Morgan of all people have to find out about us? I’m honestly surprised Penelope didn’t find out first. If only Spencer didn’t want a picture of me on his desk so badly. Ever since we became official he’s been much more manly about it. Like he wants to make sure everyone knows I’m his. It’s actually cute.

Spencer gives me a look-over. “Very patriotic. It looks nice.”

Those eyes say more than that. He loves it.

“Thank you. I’m lucky I brought it with me. Though this may be what I’m buried in if I don’t make it through tonight. This sauna’s going to be the death of me.”

So the night goes on. My mind dwindles in and out of the conversation but the only thing keeping me awake is Spencer’s occasional squeeze on my shoulder. Though him rubbing my back is definitely not helping. After a while my mind starts to wander.

“Ever notice how radio stations play the same songs over and over?”

The chatter stops and in the corner of my glazed eye I see everyone look at me.

“That’s kinda deep,” Morgan teases.

“I can’t help it. This sauna’s making me think deep.”

Emily waves a hand in front of me. “Ok, I think it’s time to call it a night. You need to drink some water. Make sure she gets to bed safely, Reid.”

Reid gives me a hidden smirk. He’s definitely thinking about that out of context. Thankfully the others are too tired to notice and we all slowly exit the human vegetable steamer from Hell.

“I’ll go get you a towel,” Reid says before walking off.

I’ll finally get to go to my room, rinse off and relax- Uh-oh. I catch a quick glance out the window. A pair of blue sunglasses lies on a patio lawn chair. No one’s outside. I guess I should do the Girl Scout routine of returning them to the lobby desk.

Brr! How is the air outside so cold? The sauna must have really gotten to me. Back inside now- Oh no. Is it my wandering mind or am I locked out? No. No! I don’t have a key card!

Inside Spencer walks around the pool looking for me. The towel he’s carrying might as well be a fur coat.

“Oh- Spencer! Help!” I knock on the glass door. “Please! I’m locked out!”

Reid’s eyes widen and he strides over. “How did you get stuck out there?”

“Someone left their sunglasses out here and I didn’t think about needing a key card to get back inside. Could you let me in?”

He starts reaching for the door but then gets an amused smirk. “Hmm. I don’t know…”

Is he kidding? “Spencer! Please! It’s freezing out here!”

Reid checks the thermostat. “It’s only 65 degrees.”

“I just came out of a sauna! Do you want me to pass out?” I put my hands on my hips.

Spencer’s laughter is muffled by the glass but he turns the doorknob anyway. “Open sesame.”

I sigh in relief at the warm air. “Thank you- oh!”

My temperature spikes the instant Spencer’s lips are on mine. He backs me against the cold condensation-covered door and pulls me close to him. I hope no one’s looking!

“It was hard not to do that in front of the team, seeing you in this suit.” Spencer presses a kiss on my cheek. “It looks very nice.”

If I weren’t so exhausted I’d encourage this. “Ready to go to bed? I’m getting tired.”

“Me too.” Reid wraps the towel around my shaking shoulders and we start walking back. “Would you like me to rub your back?”

“I’d love that very much, Spencer.”

The sight of our hotel room is equivalent to scoring an A+. I speed-wash through the shower and all but dive onto the soft bed. I lift my sleepy head up to look at Spencer, who’s sitting in the lounge chair staring at me.

“What?”

“You know my attraction to you didn’t start from your body,” he murmurs, still looking at me as if examining a piece of art.

I smile shyly and look down. “It was my eyes.”

He walks over and kneels down to my level. “It was your eyes. Those eyes that show a deep wisdom but are always wide with excited curiosity.”

Spencer crawls up onto the bed and rests his head on my chest. “Still tired? I can feel your heart rate elevating-”

“Let me pause the lecture, professor.” I put a finger to his lips. “It’s time to sleep. You can resume tomorrow.”

He sighs but gives in to his own tired state by going limp. I’m too tired to push him off.

“You were right, Spencer. Saunas really do reduce stress levels. Even if I was almost locked out.”

He smiles with his eyes closed and feels around for the bedside light switch. “Goodnight, angel.”

The room goes dark and I give him one last kiss. “Goodnight, genius.”

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starcrossedxwriter · 10 months ago

Text

Wicked Fantasies Part 8 (MBJ x OC)

A/N: This gif has nothing to do with anything other than I thought it was hot as fuck... and baby boy gets a little... rough and ruthless this chapter (in a good way LOL) Enjoy!

***

Michael’s hand lazily grazed the length of Raven’s spine as they laid in bed, limbs tangled and sheets disheveled from their wild night together. It was their first night back since their trip and jet lag spurred Michael to finally introduced ropes into their play and fuck, Raven had been in heaven. Of course, now her body was sore and aching from hanging from his set up and the only plans she had the next day were to sleep. But it was worth every ache and pain she felt and she would gladly sign up for it over and over and over again.

“You ever think about marriage… kids?” Michael asked, knowing the question was random but it had been on his mind since before it was appropriate to envision that life with her. And with whatever Tasha had planned barreling down on him, something in him yearned to know that she saw a future with him, that she wanted a future with him.

“Yea. I mean I didn’t think it would happen for me. I think about marriage a lot. Kids are… tough,” she muttered, her nails grazing against his skin, so lightly it made him feel almost ticklish.

“You’re afraid of not being there for them?”

Raven shifted uncomfortably on his chest. She rested her head against his heart, the soft thumps of his heartbeat soothing to the anxiety coursing through her. She had thought about all of these things with Michael but it was still impossible to believe she truly deserved them, that he truly wanted them with her. And she hated how easily he saw through her, saw her deepest fears and insecurities as if she had just spelled them out for him.

“Yea, I guess… I wouldn't wish my life on any kid and there’s a lot of all this we have no control over. How much time… when yours is up. It’s always been hard to think about the future though… plan for it. I’ve just always felt like I was being chased and assumed that one day it would catch up to me? This is the first time in my life I don’t feel that… since I met you. So now I suppose I should think about the future.” She paused. “I think I’d like it… not sure how good I’d be at it. Being a mother. Your mom is the closest example I have of a good one. But the chance to build my own family? One with all the things I never had, all the things a child deserves? Yea, it would be nice.”

“What do you think about building that family… with me?”

Raven perked up, shocked to hear those words come out of his mouth. She did not know why but she had not considered the conversation taking this turn for some reason. The idea of him wanting to marry her was about as foolish as wishing diamonds to cascade from the sky like rain. It just was not realistic.

“In my wildest fantasies. But…” her voice trailed off.

“What?”

“I love you… adore you. But I guess there’s still a piece of me that doesn’t believe this is real. That believes you’ll wake up one day and remember that I was the girl you paid to have sex with you. You know… can’t turn a whore into a housewife. And you wouldn’t be wrong, I’m not exactly wifey material. And hell, I’m probably the last person you should want raising your kids. Not a role model, nothing to aspire to. My life is a mess.”

Michael knew a few months would not undo years of self deprecation but it felt like a physical wound to hear her count herself out like this. How could she not see how perfect she was? How amazing she was?

“You shouldn’t talk about yourself like that, baby. And should give yourself more credit. You are one of the kindest people I’ve ever met, you’re a survivor, hardworking, gentle, nurturing. That’s everything I want in a wife… and a mother for my children. You’re so much more than whatever your dad or idiot sister convinced you were. You’re everythin’.”

“You don’t mean that,” she whispered, turning away her head to face the opposite wall. She could not let herself believe that. They had not been together long and Raven was still waiting for the honeymoon phase to end and the other shoe to drop. She knew he would walk up one day and realize he could not build anything real with her. He would hurt her and disappoint her just like every other person in her life. She desperately desired to be wrong but she also refused to let herself have too much hope. Because of all the things and people she survived in her life, Michael was the one thing she knew had the power to actually destroy her.

He pulled her deeper into his chest and kissed her forehead tenderly. “Aint ever told you shit I didn’t mean, baby girl. And I get why you don’t believe it or trust it. But I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to you. I’m here for the long haul, we’re gonna build that life together, I promise.”

Her response felt lodged in her throat, too painful to release into the space. She tried to get them out but saying them out loud would make them too real. So she just pressed her lips into his chest before turning over and closing her eyes. She knew she did not need to say anything for Michael to know how she felt. He always knew.

As he watched her attempt to sleep, Michael thought about his meeting the next day with Alex. He had spent his entire trip and tonight so wrapped up in his girl that he almost forgot Tasha was threatening to destroy their bubble. He had to figure out what to do because he saw that future with Raven as clear as day and no one and nothing would stand in his way.

***

“I can’t believe you,” Alex muttered to herself as she paced around her office. “You know… one day, I would just love it if you summoned me or came down here with good news. You saved a fuckin’ family of puppies from a would-be murderer, helped an old lady cross the road, saved someone from a burning building… solved fuckin’ world hunger and told someone. But nooooooooo. It’s never that. It’s always some problem because you literally can’t keep your fuckin’ dick to yourself. Have you ever heard of masturbation?? O-Or a fuckin’ fleshlight??”

Michael groaned as she ranted about his recklessness and foolishness.

“So you gon’ keep yellin’ at me or tell me how to fix this?”

Alex scoffed. “Fixing the fact that you got involved with, not one, but TWO prostitutes, proceeded to fall in love with one of them like this is some nigga’s version of Pretty Woman, causing the other prostitute to get so jealous, she is extorting you for money is so far above my pay grade, it isn’t even funny.”

“The amount I pay you?? Ain’t shit above your pay grade,” Michael muttered under his breath. “Look, I don’t know why you’re mad at me! I’m the victim here. Blackmail is a crime!”

Alex could not keep the shrill laughter that bubbled to her lips from spilling over. “Oh fuck off. ‘I’m the victim,’” she mimicked with a vicious glare. “You're not the victim. You’re the fuckin’ unserious superstar idiot I’ve saddled my entire career to. But you sure as fuck aren’t the victim. The only victim here will be Raven. And me when I die prematurely from dealing with your bullshit. But mainly Raven when this girl tells the entire world she made her living getting paid for sex. They’ll rip her to shreds. You wouldn’t understand it because you’re a man and your privilege insulates you. You’ll be a punchline on late night tv for a few weeks and move on but she won’t come back from this. The world won’t let her come back from it.”

“Didn’t come for a feminism 101 lecture, Alex. I know this fucks her over more than me. How do we fix it??”

Alex threw her hands up in the air. “Fuck if I know? This is why I don’t like PR relationships, Michael. It always falls apart eventually, secrets don’t last in our world. To be honest, if it’s gonna come out anyway, I'd just admit the truth about how you met before Tasha could. You could own the narrative that way at least. But Raven isn’t going to agree to that, no woman in her shoes would.”

“So aside from giving her more money, how can I stop this?”

“Wait more money? You already gave her some?”

Michael shrugged. “Yea like $10k. Why?”

Alex shook her head. “Well she’s not gonna stop at $10k. Honestly, that’s light work for how much I would’ve demanded. Now we’re dealin’ with a fucking stupid extortionist too.” She threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. “Eventually, it won’t be money she wants, Mike. She wants you and if you don’t want her, then I don’t know how to fix this.” she paused. “What did Raven say about all this?”

Michael grimaced. “I… haven’t told her.”

Alex’s eyes grew wide. “Annndd that’s why you schlepped your stupid ass all the way down here instead of having me come to you. You can’t keep this from her. It’s her name and reputation that’ll get dragged to hell and back if Tamara or whatever this fuckin girl’s name is, decides to skip her happy criminal ass to Page 6. You have to tell her, Michael, and let her know that you’re still in contact with this woman. I can sell water to fish in the goddamn ocean, I can spin anything out there. But I won’t be able to mend your relationship if she gets upset that you lied. Tell her and get ahead of this.”

“I need a plan first. Raven is the strongest person I know, don’t get me wrong. But she’s been through too much shit for me to dump a problem I created on her doorstep. No one… no one in her life protects her. Protects her feelings and body and…” he ran his hand over his face. “I tried countless times since we got back but she’s finally happy, Alex. Finally has some peace. Is it that wrong for me to just pay Tasha and keep it movin’? Raven never even needs to know.”

“It’s not wrong… the instinct isn’t wrong but it’s not right either when that peace is fiction. It’s not real, Michael. She deserves to know something that affects her life as much, frankly more than yours. Your reputation will recover, it always does. I’m not sure hers will. And maybe she would… make a different choice about your relationship if she knew that.”

“You want her to leave me?”

Alex raised her hands in surrender at his sharp tone. “No. I don’t want her to leave you. I actually really like her, certainly more than the other idiot instagram girls you paraded around here as your girlfriends. She did what I thought nothing could… she turned you into a serious person. But… maybe you two do need a break until this Tasha person is willing to let you go. She might decide that protecting her name, her peace… her ability to move through life without a modern scarlet A on her chest is more important than whatever feelings, however strong, she has for you. And you… your directorial debut is out in March. We’re about to start a press run in a month. Award season starts next Sunday, for which you are a highly anticipated nominee. Any scandal detracts from the biggest moment of your career. Look, I’m not telling you to do anything. But I am saying, it’s the only path I see that doesn’t destroy you both. And if you love her as much as you say you do, you’d take the short term hit to save her. Or at least present it as an option.”

Michael heard everything she said and in his heart, he knew she was right. But what she was asking? His heart and soul would not allow him to do it.

“I can’t lose her, Alex. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me. I won’t lose her. I know Tash… she’s all bark, no bite. I give her some attention and throw some cash her way and this’ll all blow over.”

Alex sized him up for a few moments before shrugging. “Well I hope for Raven’s sake, and mine, you know what you’re doing.”

“I know what I’m doin’, Alex. I promise.” Michael knocked his knuckles against her desk before standing up to leave.

“Are you really that good at sex?” she mused, glancing at him up and down as if she was trying to imagine it for herself. “I just can’t imagine anyone, especially a man, is good enough in bed to warrant all this.”

“I know it ain’t your cup of tea,” he offered with a wink. “But what can I say? I’m blessed with hella talents.”

Alex rolled her eyes. “Alright, well get your hella talented ass outta my office.” However, before he left, she called out. “Oh! The Golden Globes… need to know if you’re taking Raven so they can finalize the sitting chart.”

Michael rolled his eyes. His least favorite part about his job: award season. An unbearable time of year made worse by the fact that he was nominated at every single one save the Tonys this year. He did not have the energy or desire to sit for hours on end, starving and be forced to smile and wave and pretend to be happy if he lost. But he knew the unbearable practice would be made a bit more bearable if Raven was by his side while he did it.

“Shit. All this shit goin’ on since New Years, forgot to ask her. Tell them she’s goin’. I just gotta get them to pull her a dress and shit. Thanks for the reminder.”

And with that, he started to walk out. As he reached his car, he pulled out his phone and texted Tasha to meet him at the St. Regis tomorrow night at 10. He was going to end this as soon as possible.

***

Michael paced the length of his hotel room, wearing a hole in the carpet as he went.

“This is a bad idea,” he mumbled to himself a couple of times. But this was the least of about 100 bad ideas in his mind and it was the only bad idea that protected his girlfriend’s peace. He knew Alex was right and it was wrong but he was determined to keep Raven as far from this situation as possible.

However, even he had to admit to himself that his reasoning was not just to protect her peace. He also did not want to admit that he had still had conversations with Tasha before they were official, that he had made promises to her and then broke them. Raven was one of the few people on this planet who saw him as a good person and he refused to ruin that image. Protecting Raven and, selfishly, how she looked at him was all that mattered to him. What people said about him in the media and on Twitter did not.

A soft knock on his door jolted him out of his thoughts and his limbs to move. He felt uncomfortable even meeting Tasha here but she had demanded their first meeting be in person. So here he was.

When he opened the door, Tasha leaned against the door frame with a triumphant smirk painted on her face. A year ago, he would have pulled her inside and tore her clothes off with lightning speed. But today? He had never been less attracted to someone in his life, less enthused to see someone.

“Hey baby.”

Her arms snaked around his broad shoulders as she leaned in for a kiss. A kiss that Michael artfully and skillfully dodged. He twisted out of her embrace and pulled her into his hotel room, sparing a quick glance down the long hotel hallway to ensure no prying eyes lurked before slamming the door shut.

“You don’t seem happy to see me, baby.”

Michael could hear the teasing in her voice, could tell she enjoyed whatever power trip she currently had over him.

“Why would I be happy to see someone blackmailin’ and threatenin’ me?” he mumbled just loud enough for her to hear him.

“Forcing you to follow through with the promises you made to me is hardly blackmail.” She sat down on the edge of the expansive bed and leaned back slightly on her hands.

Michael had hoped to keep this “meeting” as brief as possible. He did not want to be in a room with her for any longer than he needed to. He walked over to the bed and grabbed two envelopes he had sat on the bedside table. He tossed the thicker one, filled with cash, at her before walking across the room and leaning on the desk to watch her.

“Another $10k at your request. Now, tell me a number.”

“A number for what?” she asked innocently.

“A number big enough to get you to sign this,” he tossed another envelope at her. “Standard NDA and an agreement not to contact me or Raven again.”

Tasha let out a low humorless chuckle. “All this… for that basic nobody. You never did a fraction of this shit for me…” she mused as she unfolded the papers and read them silently.

Michael scoffed. “I did everything we agreed to. Flew you out, bought you more shit than I could count. The only thing Raven got that you didn’t was my heart and I’m not apologizin’ for that. What we had was business, Tash. And our business needs to end now. So what’s the number?”

Tasha stared at him for a few minutes before discarding them on the bed. “Fine. I’ll deal. $50k and one more night. The two of us. And I’ll sign them. That’s the price.”

“Not happenin’, name a number.”

Tasha merely shrugged. “Nope. You want me out of your life? That’s the price. Both things.”

“Why? Let’s cut the bullshit, Tash. You don’t love me, you don’t want me. You want my money. So name a higher number.”

“You’re absolutely right. I don’t love you… I’m not Raven, an idiot who falls for the first client I get. I love your money and the comfort it provides. But one thing I don’t like is disrespect. You dropped me out in the cold with no warning like two years of fucking you meant nothing. Like I meant nothing. So yea, maybe months ago, it would’ve just been about the money. But now, it’s about so much more than that.”

“So what? You blackmail me into fuckin’ you one more time and it proves what?”

Tasha laughed. “Doesn’t prove anything except that you ain’t shit, which I already knew. I don’t need proof of anything. See you and Raven were built on a lie and honestly, watching the two of you fall the fuck apart will bring me far more joy than a couple extra bucks. Fuck me and the guilt will eat that good boy you bury deep inside alive. Eventually, you’ll crack and Raven’ll find out. Or I dunno, maybe I’ll tell her. Either way, I could smell the insecurities on that girl from a mile away. She’ll never forgive you and your relationship falls apart. Don’t fuck me and I tell the world you did anyway and that she was a prostitute. And then your relationship definitely falls apart when her life gets ruined. Either way, I get cash, you end up alone and Raven learns what so many girls before also learned the hard way: don’t fuck with what’s mine. I was thinking of calling TMZ the week of the Oscars? That’ll sure spice up the biggest week of your career. Or maybe right before the Creed III premiere… any preference?” At his silence, she merely shrugged. “Well, just let me know. Feel free to keep booking this room for us until you decide. I always liked this view.”

As Michael watched her, he quickly realized how he wholly underestimated her in every possible way. This was not a woman who was willing to let him go. Ever. And both of his “choices” were specifically designed to hurt Raven. There was no scenario where she came out of it unscathed. And it was really all his fault. Had he simply cut Tasha off at the onset or been smarter about how he handled her, they would not be in this mess.

Michael stood and walked toward the door.

“I’ll call you to book our time next week. Maybe you’ll change your mind. Or maybe I’ll change my mind and call TMZ before then,” she called after him as Michael slammed the door behind them.

As he stood in the barren hotel hallway, he resisted the urge to punch a hole in the wall before his security whisked him away to the service elevator to take him outside to his car. He was thankful Alex had been willing to book the hotel under her name and credit card. He would not have considered it originally but after that conversation, he would not have put it past Tasha to add the hotel receipt to her arsenal of blackmail.

He slammed the door of his jeep with such force even Allen jumped slightly at the sound.

“My bad,” he mumbled as he slouched back into his seat. He could not remember the last time something had frustrated him to this degree. He was fucked. They were fucked. Tasha had him by the balls and he knew there was no move that would get him out of this mess without throwing Raven under the bus.

He refused to cheat on Raven. Not just because he knew it would just give Tasha another thing to hold over him but because that was simply not him. He played the role of the bad boy, terrible guy but the one line he had never crossed with a girlfriend in his life was to cheat on her. He knew that pain intimately and he vowed to never inflict it on someone else. He had never even been tempted to cheat. And Raven would certainly not be the woman he broke that vow on.

And because he knew he would never sleep with Tasha or any woman who was not Raven again, there was no end to this in sight. He would just have to sit and wait for her to lob a grenade and blow up his girlfriend’s life. And that made him feel like more of a failure than any flopped movie or failed deal ever had. He was supposed to be the one person in her life that protected her and he had failed her, just like everyone else.

“Bad night, Mr. Jordan?” Allen called from the front seat.

“Somethin’ like that.” He sighed. “Fucked up and not sure it’s fixable.”

Allen glanced back in the rearview mirror and nodded. “Is it not fixable or do you just not like the consequences of fixing it?”

Michael bowed his head. He adored Allen but lately, he hated him and his meddling, correct but unsolicited advice. However, he would never say that to him.

“Mixture of both. Really just no way to fix it that doesn’t hurt someone I love.”

“Raven?”

“That transparent, huh?”

Allen smiled to himself. “You always were, sir. If all the answers hurt her, then you have to decide which path causes the least harm to her. And then you just hope she forgives you when it’s over. That’s all you can do. Or you find another path that doesn’t.”

Michael’s head thudded against his seat’s headrest. He knew Allen was right, just as Alex had been. There was no fixing this situation, no silver bullet that would solve all of their problems and save Raven’s reputation in the process. All roads led to the same destination: the world finding out he and Raven lied. But there was one path that bypassed Tasha, put more of the media focus on him and his terrible decisions, and allowed him to control the when, where, and how of it all. And it did not hurt that this particular path would also allow him to hold Tasha accountable for all her shit in the process.

“Thanks, Allen.”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and found Alex’s number. It was late but she was, thankfully, just as much of a night owl as he was.

“Finish your date with your favorite extortionist?” Alex joked as she picked up the phone. He could hear her munching on something as she spoke, likely popcorn.

“You always got jokes. Listen… I think you were right earlier. Let’s control the narrative.”

He could hear her shifting around as if she were sitting up at his words. “Ok, I’m intrigued. Raven? You gonna ask her what she thinks?”

He shook his head. “Nah. If we do it right, she never needs to know.”

***

It was after midnight by the time Michael arrived back home. However, he and Alex had worked out a foolproof plan during the drive. A plan they felt would allow Michael to take the biggest hit while Raven’s name would be a mere footnote by any reporter who doesn’t want to be accused of misogyny. It did all hinge on Tasha dragging out her games for longer than a week. But Michael had a feeling she would. She clearly enjoyed watching him squirm. They’d get past the Golden Globes and then he would seek help from someone whose only motivation in this world was money, someone who - for the right price - would do exactly what he asked.

He said a quick goodnight to Allen before running up the stairs to his master bedroom. He was surprised to find Raven curled up on his side of the bed, her face buried in his pillow. Her preferred sleeping position was literally on top of him and he knew, when he wasn’t home, this was the best she could get.

He laughed lightly at her kindle which was half hanging out of her hand, the young woman clearly having fallen asleep reading. She had not even put her scarf on the giant pineapple of curls on her head or taken off her reading glasses, which told him she had tried her hardest to stay awake till he got home. He watched her, like a creep admittedly, for several minutes before he moved.

He had never felt love like this a day in his life. He had always accepted that he would never find it, never find someone who could and would love him unconditionally. But she did, she loved him even though he was not sure he deserved it. And everytime she looked at him, touched him, curled into his side to sleep, he felt the depths of it in his very being. Their love was pure and he refused to let anyone taint it.

He moved as quietly as possible to the bed and took the kindle out of her hand and slid her glasses off. Thankfully, she slept like a rock. However, she only stirred as he tried to gently tie her scarf around her edges to protect her hair. She stretched and let out a deep but insanely cute yawn as she blinked a few times.

“H-Hey babe. S-sorry, I tried to wait for you.”

Michael leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. “Don’t apologize. I didn’t mean to wake you. Just knew you’d be pissed if you woke up with no scarf on.”

She chuckled. “You’re right about that. H-How was your dinner meeting?”

“Fine,” he waved his hand dismissively. He hated that he had lied to her but it was the only excuse he could think of that did not bring more questions. Raven was generally inquisitive but she tended to understand the often secret nature of some roles and Hollywood meetings so she did not often pry for information he did not offer up. “Might have a role for me but shit is still in flux. We’ll probably need to meet again to iron out some details.”

She nodded as she forced herself into a seated position. “I’ll never understand you Hollywood types. Who wants to have a dinner meeting at 10 pm?”

“Logistics are easier for later dinners. It’s a whole thing.” He rolled his shoulders a bit, the tension of the day making his entire body ache.

“You ok? You seem so tense, baby.”

He studied her for a moment, taking in the genuine care on her face. So few people looked at him like that, like a human with needs and feelings. They just saw him as a product to sell or an ATM to get their needs met. But not Raven, never Raven. Even when he was quite literally paying her to be there. She saw him for him. And in that moment, he realized how close he was to losing that, how at risk this precious peace they both had found was. And that terrified him. Losing her terrified him. And he knew that whatever path he chose, that was the risk. And that filled him with such an overwhelming sense of dread.

He rarely felt overwhelmed by his own feelings. But right then, he felt like he could not even think straight enough to answer that simple question. And he knew that simple question was his out, his chance to tell her the truth about what tension he was feeling and why.

So instead of speaking, he used his impeccable strength to pull her into his lap. Her fingers played in the coarse hair of his beard as he stared at her, concern filling her eyes as she took in the solemn and stressed look in his.

“Hey… baby… what’s wrong?”

“N-Nothin’. Nothin’,” he lied, his courage deflating like a popped balloon. As soon as the words left his mouth, his lips crashed into hers, stealing her breath right out of her mouth. He could not talk, could not have a conversation. He just needed to feel her, all of her.

He could not bring himself to do it, to ask her for her permission to do what he knew had to be done. All roads led to the same destination and this was the only one he could see that left them with the least amount of bruises. He did not have the heart to tell her that the only path forward for them was to destroy her reputation now or have Tasha do it later. He did not have the heart to tell her he failed her, that he could not protect her from this.

Raven could feel everything in that kiss, his own stress and tension and pain. She wondered if more had gone on tonight at his meeting than he was willing to let on. Typically, Michael was the emotional rock, holding her up and giving her space to fall apart. But tonight, she was reminded that sometimes the strong ones need that too.

She broke off their kiss to catch her breath before whispering, “Take what you need.”

Michael rested his forehead against hers. “You sure?”

“Consider me your stress ball,” she joked with a half smile. “Do your worst. I trust you.”

Trust you don’t deserve, a cold voice inside hurled at him.

Michael said nothing as he flipped Raven over onto her stomach. There was no love or sweetness in the way he handled her as he arranged her lethargic limbs in the position he desired, ass high and face pressed into his comforter. He did not give her any warning as he sheathed himself inside her with one thrust, Raven squealing at the sudden and rough intrusion.

“Fuckkkkkkkk,” she moaned as he bottomed out inside her. She did not understand how his size and girth still managed to leave her breathless.

“You always this wet for me, baby?”

“Y-Yes,” she whimpered as he gave her a brief moment to adjust to him.

“Yes what?” he demanded with a sharp and painful slap against her plump ass. “Yes daddy,” she amended quickly. She could already tell she would be bruised and sore by the time he was done with her. But she could not hope to care. Whatever he needed, she would gladly give.

They rarely did quickies, Michael enjoyed the warm up far too much to skip it. But tonight, he needed the adrenaline of rough, uninhibited fucking. He needed to hear her screams, the slaps of his hips against her ass. Needed to feel the soft skin of her hips beneath his hand as he rammed into her. He needed to let go of the stress of the last 48 hours with the woman he loved, let go of the feelings of objective failure he felt. He needed to get lost in her.

Raven was in pure bliss as Michael fucked her at a pace and intensity she had rarely seen from him. She could not even keep up with him to match his thrusts into her. All she could do was lay there and scream out as he took her.

“Shit, shit. J-just like that,” she moaned as his hands dug into her skin. Her fingers curled around the softness of his comforter as she used it to muffle the screams of her orgasm.

“Fuck, this pussy feels so good gripping my dick, baby. That’s right, cum for daddy.”

Her body instinctively shied away from the overwhelming feelings of pleasure and pain he provided, causing his grip to only grow tighter so she could not escape him, as if she would disappear right before his eyes if he loosened his grip on her at all.

“The fuck you runnin’ for?? You said do my worst right? So take this dick!” His voice was commanding as he spanked her, the sound reverberating around his bedroom.

“I-It’s too m-much,” she moaned out as she felt another orgasm start to build.

“You can take it. I know you can. Be a good girl for me.”

Hearing the words “good girl” on his lips were almost enough to make her orgasm right then on the spot.

Her upper body collapsed as another orgasm hit her like a train of endless ecstasy. Only Michael’s brute strength held her up as he chased his own release. Her body felt like putty in his hands, completely pliant and under his control.

“You gonna cum again for me, baby?” he demanded.

Raven felt as if he was fucking her into another dimension, was she even on Earth anymore? She could barely form thoughts let alone words to answer his questions. And as the silence stretched on and only her moans and squeals punctuated the sound of his thrusts, Michael knew she needed an incentive to remember the rules.

He wrapped his fist in her hair, which had unceremoniously fallen out of her scarf and pulled her up so her back was flush against his body. He wrapped his hand around her throat and squeezed lightly, loving how Raven’s eyes rolled back into her head and a long moan escaped her. He noticed the tear tracks on her cheeks and almost wondered if he was pushing her too far.

“Need me to stop?” he asked quietly, not slowing down his pace or movement as he asked.

Despite how overwhelmed and exhausted she felt, Raven could not comprehend the idea of him stopping. She had offered him this and she wanted it too. “D-don’t stop… p-please don’t stop.”

“Ok then. When daddy asks you somethin’, you fuckin’ answer!”

He let her body fall forward before he started spanking her with every ounce of strength he had. The pain radiated through her entire body but it was a delicious hurt, one she wished she could have all the time. Michael’s spankings were one of her favorite parts of their sex life. But now she knew that he was holding back some of his strength on her account. And she did not want that ever again. If this was him totally uninhibited and unrestrained, she would be his stress ball every day of the week.

She shook her head as tears slowly trekked down her face. “I-I c-can’t…”

Whether that was to convey that she could not speak or couldn’t come again, Michael did not know nor did not care. Until he heard a safeword cross her lips, he would drain them both of everything they collectively had.

“Yea, you can. Cause daddy demands it.”

His fingers found their way to her clit and roughly circled it, Raven’s entire body tensing as she reached her peak for the third time. He thanked the good lord he had had the forethought to soundproof his bedroom when he built this house years ago. That way he nor his parents had to be scarred for life. But even he wondered if her screams of pleasure would test the limits of that particular design feature.

However, they were the perfect symphony that pushed him right over the edge. He increased his pace, as if that were possible, hammering into her before he pressed her hips tightly against his form as he came inside her with a loud moan of his own. He collapsed next to her prone form for a moment as he tried to catch his breath.

He ran his hand through her hair, the young woman letting out a soft, appreciative whimper that acknowledged his touch and gentleness but let him know she was utterly spent.

He pushed himself out of bed and started a bath, adding some epsom salt to the water in hopes that would soothe whatever aches he caused. He returned to his bed and rubbed her back to get her attention.

“Bath,” he whispered, before he scooped her up into his arms as if she were a small child. He carried her into the bathroom and quickly redid her hair and scarf before settling her into the tub.

A moan slipped past her lips as the hot water surrounded her limbs. Michael positioned himself behind her, his arm pressed into her breasts to keep her flush to his chest.

“Was I too rough?”

Her heart warmed at the question. She would not have offered her body to him if she had not wanted rough but she appreciated that he still cared enough about her to check in, during and after.

“No, I love it when you get lost in it. But you’re sure you’re ok?”

“Yea… think the stress of the awards and the press tour next month are just getting to me. I’m good, babe.” A cop out but it was all he could offer.

Though it was difficult to get her limbs to move properly, she shifted so she could turn around and look at him. She chewed on her lip for a moment before saying, “You’d tell me if… something was wrong, right? Like you’re always there for me and my problems, listening and fixing. A-and well… I know I can’t like fix whatever it is or anything or probably even understand it. But I hope you know you can trust me with stuff. I just d-don’t want you to think you can’t… if you ever need to o-or - ”

Michael leaned forward and captured her lips, silencing the sweet ramblings his girl was known for.

“Yea I know, baby.”

He felt her entire body sort of deflate with relief before she settled back against his chest.

“Good. I’m glad.”

They sat in silence as Michael’s hands slowly and methodically massaged her body, starting at her shoulders and working their way down at a deliciously slow but tantalizing pace. He took his time, kneading each of her muscles until the ache she felt subsided. His hands were massaging her thighs, which was doing more to work her up than calm her down, when Michael

“Be my date on Sunday.” He kissed her on the neck.

“Sunday? What’s on Sunday?” she asked, not even opening her eyes as she enjoyed the work of the Lord Almighty he was doing on her thighs.

“The Globes.”

Raven immediately pushed off of his chest in shock. An award show? Those glittery and glamorous programs she had watched as a kid?

What’s my fucking life right now?? She asked herself as it hit her, for the first time, that things like this would be a regular occurrence now that she and Michael were serious. This was the big leagues and she was going to be standing right beside him.

“The Globes… as in THE Golden Globes?? You’re kidding right?”

He laughed at the look of utter shock on her face. “Yes, those Globes. And nah, why would I joke about that shit? I want the sexiest woman in the world on my arm when I win.”

Michael did not want to be ruled by fear of when Tasha would lob her grenade at them, if she even had the chance. They deserved to just have a fun and extravagant night out together. This would be the biggest night of his career and if their names were going to be thrown into a scandal either way, he could at least enjoy a night out with Raven before it does.

Raven shook her head, though her heart and childish brain screamed at her for doing so. Why was she pushing back? Every fiber of her being just wanted her to yell “YES, YES, YES!”

“B-But what about your parents?? Maybe you should take one of them o-or your siblings? I mean I’d love to go. Like seriously THE Golden Globes with like every entertainer I adore and love? But this is such a big moment in your career. Don’t you want to spend it with… I dunno, the people who’ve been there for the ride? I just got here,” she chuckled. “Don’t ask me out of some obligation. If there’s someone else you’d prefer, I won’t be offended. I didn’t expect an invite to all these anyway, you know? Figured you take family or your friends or someone more important to you… What if you look back and regret not taking one of them? You should -”

“Babe!” he cut her off, his palm cradling her cheek to keep her gaze on him.. “You said all that in one breath. Breathe for me, baby girl.” Raven appreciated that he could always see when she was spiraling and stop it. She forced air into her lungs before nodding for him to speak. “My family’s been to hella award shows, they’ve seen as many of them as a single person could ever want to. But even if they hadn’t, you’re the most important person to me right now. So I want to look out if I win and see you there. You are the most important person in my life.”

“You’re sure?”

“Wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t, promise.”

“Then yes. I’d love to.” She turned fully and straddled his hips, kissing him deeply. Her hips instinctively grinded against him, a smile gracing her features as she felt his cock start to grow hard beneath him. She did not care that he fucked her into near oblivion a mere 10 minutes ago. Just him offering to take her to the biggest award show of his career to date filled her with such joy and happiness. And now, she had no interest in going to sleep. Now? She just needed more. More of him and his love, attention, and care.

“Not too sore, baby girl?” he asked as he pulled one of her nipples in between his lips and sucked gently before biting the swell of her breast, Raven’s head falling back with a small cry.

“Never… I need you,” she whispered in his ear as she sucked on the soft skin of his neck. “Please.”

“Get up here and ride daddy’s dick.”

Raven did not need to be told twice as she positioned herself over him and slid down.

“Enjoy it cause then it’s my turn again.” He winked at her with the most wicked glint in his eyes that let Raven know she would not sleep for hours.

***

“So how does it feel? Mr. Golden Globe winner??” Raven asked for the 100th time as she and Michael walked back into the condo. The condo was really only used now when they were at events super late. And staying out until 3 am meant neither of them were all too interested in making the trek back to his home.

Michael chuckled, “The same way it felt 10 minutes ago, Rae.”

She gave herself a playful facepalm. “I’m sorry, I’m being annoying. I’m just so excited for you! I mean tonight was amazing and magical and you were amazing and everyone was literally singing your praises. And I’m just…” she turned and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders. “I’m really proud of you. No one deserves this moment more.”

“Thank you. It was even better with you by my side.”

Raven let out a childlike squeal as Michael picked her up in his arms, her after party dress bunched up in his hands. However, before she could tell him to be careful of the fabric, he merely smirked. “It’ll be on the floor in a minute. Don’t worry bout that shit.”

She merely rolled her eyes as he playfully tossed her onto his bed and launched himself on top of her. She let out a loud oof as his weight pushed her deeper into the bed and laughed.

She moaned as he kissed her before she had to stop him for a brief moment. As much as she loved being glammed up by his team, she could not deny that the full glam and fake lashes they put on her were not as comfortable almost 10 hours later.

“Let me hang up the dress and wash my face before you ravish me? These lashes are killing me and it’s gonna take me a few minutes to peel these spanx off.”

He seemed wholly uninterested in letting her do any of those things until the phone in his pants started to ring. He knew only one person who dared to call him this late. The disgruntled huff he pushed out made her cackle but he rolled off of her, allowing her to get up.

“Fine, I’ll allow it. But only cause Alex would only call this late if it was important.”

As he answered the phone, she disappeared into the guest room where all of her clothes were stored. She made quick work of stripping down to her panties and ensuring her dress was stowed properly in its garment bag. It had been a delicate yet gorgeous gown and she had not trusted Michael not to accidentally destroy it in his quest to get it off her. She knew he could afford to pay for it but she did not even want to know how much a Valentino dress would set him back.

She joyfully ripped the fake lashes on her eyes off before washing her face several times to get off all the makeup she had on. She looked stunning, as she always did when his glam team got a hold of her. But she also would rather do this tedious task now than in a few hours when Michael was done with her.

She thought about slipping into some lingerie as she pulled off her nipple covers. But she figured it would take more time than necessary to put any of it on and Michael would likely just rip it off her within seconds. So she made her way back to his room nearly naked with just her thong on.

However, when she returned, Michael’s mood was far more subdued than when she left. She raised an eyebrow as she straddled his hips, his hands barely touching her hips, a departure from his usual grip on her.

“Everything ok?”

“That was Alex. We… got a problem.”

“Ok?”

He rubbed her lower back as he spoke as if that would calm her for whatever was about to come out of his mouth. “She got a call from TMZ that they have a source… that told them about us. How we met and… that we lied to everyone about it. And they are gonna run it sometime tomorrow.”

Raven scratched her forehead, the joy she felt moments ago dissipating almost immediately.

This can’t be happening…

“W-what?? B-But… N-No, no. She’s… I-is she sure?”

“Baby, calm down. It’s gonna be ok. Apparently, the angle he took was favorable to you? It doesn’t shame you or anything. It’s just honest about the circumstances of how we met.”

Raven felt as if her whole world had just come falling down around her as she leapt off his lap. “It’s favorable to me?? That’s a super small comfort w-when you just told me that the entire world is about to find out I was a prostitute, Michael! C-Cause no one’s gonna care that you were date number like 3 in a series of failed dates o-or that you were the first guy to even pay me for sex. They’re just gonna care that I did it. This reporter doesn’t need to shame me when the whole fucking world will.” She paced up and down beside his bed as she tried to will her panic to subside. “I-Is there anyway to stop it?? W-why is this even happening?? I mean it’s been months. Who would even care enough to c-come out and say something now??”

Michael stood and grabbed her by the arm, he pulled her into his embrace but he knew it would do little to soothe her. “It could’ve been anyone? Employee at the hotel, someone who works for Helen. Alex is trying to find out who and more about the story so we can figure out what to do. And this person probably realized that now, with award season and Creed, would be the most profitable time to release shit about me. I’m sorry, Rae. I should’ve seen this comin’. It’s my fault.”

The clear guilt in his voice cut through the haze of panic she felt and caused her to stop thinking about herself for a moment.

Fuck, how selfish are you? A story like this could potentially ruin his career and all she could think about was how it affected her. Michael could lose work and deals and prestige because of a story like this. What did she have to lose? A family that already hated her and she had cut off? A reputation that, at least in the industry she was once in, was already tarnished?

“No, d-don’t apologize. I'm sorry. I’m over here freaking out and you’re the one with an actual career to lose. I just… I guess when it didn’t come out initially, I assumed it wouldn’t? A-and I just… freaked out. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t make it all about me.”

“It’s cool. And ok to be upset. I’m used to shit like this… you aren’t. Good thing is, shit like this stays in the news for a few days and then it passes. Alex and I’ll work on a plan tomorrow once it’s out and fix this shit. I promise.”

All Raven could make herself do was nod as she let her forehead fall onto his bare chest, a sudden wave of exhaustion hitting her. Even with Michael, there was always something. There was no true peace in her life, or least, none that lasted long enough for her to enjoy it.

An uncomfortable tightness grew in her chest as she realized what was barreling toward them both. And for the first time in a long time, Michael’s arms did not bring her the comfort she needed. In fact, they only added to her stress. She wanted to be with him but she also knew that her presence would be a distraction. He had to figure out the best response for his career without feeling the need to cater to her emotions and she wanted to break down and cry and scream without being worried he would feel guilty.

Which meant she could not be there with him when this story broke. She needed space and alone time to process this.

“Do you think Allen could take me home?” she whispered. “I n-need to be alone.”

“Rae, stay. We should talk about this.”

She could see the panic bloom in his eyes and it made her adjust her statement. “I’m not m-mad at you, baby. You don’t have control over who talks to the media and when. I know you would stop it if you could. I just… knowing it’s coming out is a lot to process and I need to do that alone in my own space. And you need to be focused on your career, not me and my feelings. I’ll check in with you tomorrow but I d-don’t want to talk tonight. I just want to be alone.”

Michael pressed his lips to her forehead before walking over to his dresser and pulling out a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt that she had stored there. He helped her get dressed before calling Allen to come back to take her home. He knew she was not upset with him but he could not help but feel disheartened at how she retreated into herself. He could see all the emotions she felt painted on her face and that made him want to demand she stay so he could help her through it.

But he knew that was not fair. If she said she needed space, he had to respect that. The reason she was feeling this way was his fault anyway.

“You’re sure you’re gonna be ok? I can come with you?” He tried one last time when Allen texted that he was downstairs.

“Positive. Just need a couple hours to myself to get my head around everything. I’ll come to the house tomorrow evening after it's out and we can talk. Just give me a few hours, please.”

He nodded, silently acquiescing to her wishes, despite every piece of him wanting to protest.

Raven offered him a peck on the lips before heading down in the elevator, desperate to scream or yell or throw something across the room. She supposed she always knew there was a chance it could come out. After all, there were a handful of people that knew the truth. But she had just lulled herself into believing it wouldn’t, that their peace would be safe.

Her head felt like it was spinning when she finally laid down an hour later in her own bed. She had only taken the time to switch into one of Michael’s sweatshirts that she had commandeered from his house so she could curl up in his scent. She wrapped herself tightly in her blanket and let out a shuddering and shaky breath.

He’s gonna leave you. A voice finally said the fear that gripped her since he told her the news. She had not wanted to admit it but she knew it was coming. He was going to leave her.

How could he possibly stay? Why would he want to stay? His entire team would demand he cut ties with her. There was no other option. She knew it and he likely knew it too. His safest bet was likely to paint her as a woman who manipulated him or a gold digger after his money. She spent enough time on social media to know what the media and everyday people would say about her. They’d call her a slut and a whore, never mind that she was only doing what she had to do to survive. That would not matter to them. And then the dogpilling would begin. Some internet detective would find out she was also a stripper and this would give her sister the perfect chance to shame her like she always wanted to.

‘There are always other options than selling yourself’ they’d say. They’d question his manhood for even wanting to be with her in the first place. And it would not matter that prostitution was the oldest profession in civilization or that Michael was her first real customer. Her doing it with him would be enough for them to brand her with every terrible name women avoid being labeled.

She hastily wiped away the few tears that fell as she stared at her ceiling. These would be her last few moments of peace in her life and she realized that tonight was likely her last night with Michael. She felt her heart break at the idea. However, she would walk away, she realized. If that was what it took to save him and his career and this moment in his life, she would walk away from him. It would cut her deeper than any wound but she would do it for him if he asked.

And now, every second felt like a countdown to that moment. When she would arrive at his house tomorrow afternoon and be greeted with the cold slap of rejection. She would just have to prepare herself.

She reached into her nightstand and pulled out a bottle of old sleeping pills she used to use when she first lost her writing contract. She had struggled so much that her doctor prescribed them. It had been almost a year since she needed them but tonight was an exception. She just wanted to fall into the deep, dreamless sleep they provided so she would not have to sit awake and think about how everything in this world was designed to destroy her. She popped one in her mouth and snuggled up with her pillow while her tears fell, the protective blanket of sleep covering her within minutes.

Tag List: @readinghere2023 @blackerthings @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @physicxal @purplehairgawdess @miyuhpapayuh @rueruesclues @geemamii @certifiedlesbianbaddie @pipsqueak-98 @nyifly22 @destinio1 @twocentaur @gopaperless @musicisme333 @roguekiki @majesticbrownjawn @taurusqueen83 @mysteryuz @miamormilan @itsknor-thedeep @naj-ay444 @mads-grace4 @nayaesworld @kholdkill @msniaimani @nccu-rnc @apenasumlug4r

***

A/N: Welp... Michael's keeping secrets, Tasha is smarter (kinda, maybe?) than Michael thought and poor Raven's completely in the dark. Drop a comment and let me know who you think this "source" is and how you think these two are going to react to the article! And so exciting - chapter 9 is like 1/3 done lol so it'll be out in the next two weeks. Would be sooner but I'm on vacation next week. Thanks for reading, commenting, liking... all the things! :)

#black writers #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x oc #mbjordanedit #black panther #michael b jordan x reader #michael b jordan fanfic #creed 3 #adonis creed #creed iii

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kumkaniudaku · 2 months ago

Text

Stay A While (3)

Summary: Terry get's a lesson in love and shares it with Patrice.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 5,049

Part: 3 of ??

Warnings: Smut (18+)

One. Two.

"Well, James, how you been?"

"Honestly, Pop. I don't know where to start."

Wooden spoons banged and scraped across pots on the stove while Marvin scooped red beans and rice into a small ceramic bowl. He'd long shed his work coveralls for an open flannel shirt and khakis to spend some quality time with his only son.

James was their shared middle name in a long line of Richmond men dating back to their family migration from New Orleans to Fayetteville in the 50s. Marvin was a proud, honorable man. He never said a bad word about anybody, and no one had a bad word to say about him. He taught Terry how to play football, make a pot of dirty rice to perfection, and the importance of ensuring a lady never touched a doorhandle in his presence. He was the reason Terry joined the Marine Corps after a career in the NFL looked unlikely. He was the reason his boy spoke softly and carried a big stick. And he was one of only two people Terry trusted with his heart.

With two bowls and spoons on a serving tray, Marvin made his way to the kitchen table. He stopped short to get a good look at his son with blue green eyes even more captivating than Terry's. He noted the new frown lines developing on his brow and the lone grey hair sprouting in his goatee. His boy was stressed and confused. He didn't need a conversation to tell him that but welcomed it anyway.

After sliding one bowl across the table, he took a seat with his signature grunt. "Start at the top. Plenty of time still left in the day."

Terry quietly thanked his father for his generosity and avoided the question by eating the first bite of his meal. They ate in silence for several seconds until Terry took a deep breath.

"I think I've been okay. More ups than downs lately, but the downs are pretty damn low. I'm having a tough time sleeping. I'm barely working. I feel like a burden for Treece more than I feel like a man who can actually do something for her."

"Being a man is about more than what you can do."

"Yeah, but…" Terry trailed off, trying to gather his thoughts. "It's just - things weren't supposed to be this hard. I gave this country a lot of my time, and I guess I expected to say my goodbyes and roll into my next chapter. Now, my plan b needs a plan b, and I'm out of options."

"You're not out of options. You don't like askin' for help. Proud like your grandaddy."

"And you too."

Marvin chuckled and shook his head as he took another spoonful of food. "This ain't about me."

The two men shared a laugh, their voices sounding nearly identical as they bounced off the walls. He was the spitting image of his father, both in stature and moral compass.

"What do you need, James?" Marvin had grown serious again, making Terry avert his eyes to focus on his food. "I'll save you the stress of asking, but you gotta tell me what I need to offer. Is it money?"

"Not much. Enough to pay some bills until the end of the month, and I can have it back to you. I think I have a shot at this job on base if I can get through the second interview."

"How you getting back and forth? I know y'all do the Lyft and Ubom thing these days. Ridin' around with strangers like we didn't spend a whole decade tell y'all not to."

Terry laughed. "It's Uber, Pop. But, no. Treece is out for the summer, so I'm…using her car when I need it. I don't wanna take advantage of her."

"Those some of the bills you need help paying?" Marvin's question was answered with a silent head nod and eyes filled with shame. He softened his voice as he reached into his wallet for the cash he had on hand. "It's what you're supposed to do. Ain't no shame. That money is for yourself. Give me til tomorrow afternoon to have more. Five grand enough?"

"Ah, Pop, I don-"

"We didn't work as hard as we did for nothing. Plus, it's your college fund money we never withdrew. You're lucky your mother hasn't used it for renovations. She's been eyeing your sister's old room for an indoor she-shed or whatever the hell it's called."

Marvin sounded exasperated by the concept of his wife's latest project, which amused Terry. They hadn't changed since the day he left. They were just two people who had been in love since the day they met and remained committed to supporting each other through the ebbs and flows of life.

Standing from the kitchen table, Marvin shuffled around the corner to the garage entrance and returned with a ring of keys and a pile of mail. He tossed them at Terry and returned to his seat.

"What's this?"

"Keys to GMC outside. Take it. You might need to run it for a little bit and change the oil, but it works fine. The rest is your mail." Terry opened his mouth to protest and received a glare from his father in return. "I gave you my best speech about askin' for help, and here you go ruining things. Take the truck before I tell your mama."

"Alright, alright," Terry laughed as he raised his hands. "I love you, Pop."

"Love you, man. I'm proud of you." Not ones for the warm fuzzies of hugs, the two extended their arms across the table for a quick fist bump before returning to their meals. Marvin let his son eat in peace for a few moments before the corner of his lips curled in a knowing smile. "So…Patrice Ellis, huh? That little love letter you wrote in 10th grade finally coming true?"

"Pop."

"Ah, come on. It's alright to be in love, son. She's a good girl. Got good folks, too. What's the holdup?"

In love? The more Terry attempted to negotiate the gravity of the phrase within himself, the more he had to reckon with the idea that his father may not be that far off base.

Terry slowed his eating and looked at his father for help. "You think I'm in love?"

"Oh, I know you are. You didn't come back to Fayetteville for me, did you?"

"How would I know, though? How did you know?"

Marvin stopped eating to sit back in his chair. A fond smile crossed his face as he thought of his younger years.

"I knew I was in love when I wanted to show up every day and do the work to be with her. It didn't matter if she pissed me off or if we disagreed about decisions. At the end of every day, I can look at her and know I'm where I want to be forever. Plus, I still get a little fired up when she walks through the door all these years later. I ain't much to look at, but your mother is…"

Marvin let his sentence drop to whistle at the mention of his wife. Terry pretended to take exception but eventually laughed at his father's antics. He quickly relaxed into a contemplative state.

"I wanna be the best I can for her," he spoke softly. "I get…sad when she's gone for too long. Sometimes, I find myself forcing conversation just to make her look at me because the light in her eyes is the only thing keeping me grounded most days. What does that mean?"

"You don't need me to answer that, son. Go with what you know."

Before Terry could seek more advice, the mechanical roar of the garage door made Marvin nearly spring out of his seat to greet his one true love.

Outside, Patrice was nearly doubled over from laughter in the front seat.

Diedra "DeeDee" Richmond was the quintessential Southern black woman. Like a prim and proper belle, she wore her color-treated blonde hair big to match an even bigger personality. She wore heels with every outfit and never left the house without earrings, but she could also drink and cuss like a sailor.

When she offered Patrice the chance to tag along for her monthly Sister Circle meeting, there was no chance she'd miss the opportunity to ditch Terry and kick it with the upper crust of Black women.

"And, girl, Rita thinks we can't tell that she took every one of those appetizers out of the damn freezer section. At least go to the Publix bakery. Finger sandwiches ain't that expensive."

Amid their gossip session, the garage door's chime caught Dee Dee's attention, effectively ending her one-woman show in favor of giving her husband the eye. Behind him, Terry stood with a nervous smile and puppy dog eyes that he directed at Patrice.

"Marry a Richmond, child. You'll never lift a finger for the rest of your life. Lord knows I love me some him. Hey, baby!" DeeDee advised as she watched Marvin nearly float to the driver's side to open her door.

Patrice watched Marvin and DeeDee fawn over each other like teenage lovers until the faint pop of her door opening brought her back to life.

Terry stood in the gap with his hand out to offer assistance. She accepted without protest, letting him gently pull her from the passenger side with her bags in tow and close the door behind her.

"I missed you."

Terry's admission came in a sweet voice as he dipped his head to place two chaste kisses on Patrice's lips. Only the knowledge of his parents 10 feet away kept her from turning an innocent display of affection into something vulgar.

Patrice chased his lips once he pulled away, earning a deep chuckle that vibrated her chest.

"We kissing in front of the parents now?"

"Too much," he asked, suddenly embarrassed.

She used her thumb to wipe lip gloss from his bottom lip before rising to her tip toes to kiss his nose. "No. You're perfect."

Dee Dee and Marvin watched the young couple giggle at nothing in particular with broad smiles and full hearts.

"Treece, when's the last time you had some of my red beans and rice?"

Marvin's question made both of them jump like children caught in the act with the realization that they weren't alone.

"Way too long," Patrice answered, her stomach almost growling at the mention.

"Then have dinner with us. We'd love to have you."

Patrice looked toward Terry for confirmation, making Dee Dee cackle as she started up the stairs into her home. "Child, forget him. Terrence don't run nothing 'round here! Come get this food."

Terry's eyes grew wide at his mother's dismissal while Patrice dissolved into an uncontrollable fit of laughter at his expense on her way into the house.

"Oh, that's funny," he asked, following her lead. "That's the last time I let y'all hang out unsupervised."

Three extra hours at Terry's parents' house wasn't enough for the tandem to abandon their new night routine.

Patrice stood at her bathroom sink, scrubbing the day from her face while Terry made himself comfortable on her closed toilet lid. Sometimes, he read something from Patrice's bookshelf, both preferring to simply exist in the same room. Other times, he watched baseball on his phone and attempted to provide color commentary despite Patrice not showing interest. This time, though, he sat with relaxed shoulders and low eyes while she moved through her beauty routine.

Something about the sleepytime body wash had him laser-focused on how her legs looked a mile long beneath her nightshirt, oiled to perfection and glistening under the warm vanity lights. He wanted to reach out and touch her. Maybe pull her closer by her thighs and whisper every single nasty thought on his mind below her navel until she promised never to leave his side.

But, he shook his inner man loose and leaned forward to re-engage with her as she called his name.

"You know you should use a gentle exfoliant every once in a while. It'll help your breakouts. Use some of my sunscreen, too. It's dangerous for you to let the sun hit your face with no protection."

Blah, blah, blah. Everything she said sounded like a chorus of 1000 angels to him. She could've revealed the cure to cancer, and he would be too lovestruck to notice.

Knowing his restraint was dwindling, he stood abruptly and stretched his arms above his head with a yawn as she added moisturizer to her face.

Patrice watched him take up space behind her through the mirror, shifting so he could leave something to remember him by on her shoulder and neck.

"Good night," he spoke between kisses, the words muffled against her skin.

"Already? It's not that late, is it?"

"I promised Corey I'd help him with football practice at Francis tomorrow morning."

"He'll run you ragged if you don't speak up."

"I'll speak up. I promise."

Using what little space she had, Patrice turned to rest her backside on the counter and face Terry. She used her index finger to hook his gold herringbone chain and bring him down for a kiss. Or kisses. It'd been so long since they could have each other in this way. Time and experience, both together and separately, had them maneuvering like professionals. Each kiss was teasing and sensual in equal measure. A tangible mastery of retreating and aggression made the pursuit of one another worth the wait.

They'd lost track of their exhibition until Terry's phone buzzing against the toilet seat jolted them back into reality.

Patrice flattened her palms against his chest to create some separation and end what would surely turn into blurred lines if they weren't careful. "Good night, TJ. Grab that exfoliant out of my shower before you leave. It's in the caddie."

Terry took the gentle redirection in stride, smiling at her through the mirror before turning to do as she had asked. Patrice used what little focus she could muster to secure her headscarf to her head, desperate to extend her box braids for one more week.

"What's this?"

"What's what?" She didn't bother to look away from her task until the low hum of her vibrator caught her attention. She whipped her body around, too stunned to reach for the bright pink toy that had Terry smirking as he examined its buttons. "That is my personal property for personal and private use."

"When's the last time you used it?"

"It's been a while. A month or so." Mostly true. She couldn't say she hadn't thought about it more recently.

"Since I've been here?"

She shrugged. "Kinda hard to get comfortable when there's a person on the other side of the wall."

The mere sound of the only thing to touch her in two years made the hair on her arms stand at attention. Her eyes darted between the toy and Terry, who made himself familiar with each speed and pattern, cycling through dirty thoughts and intrigue as he held the device against his arm to get a feel for the intensity,

Setting one? Bearable. A softball. Setting three? Maybe she'd call out his name from the pleasure? Setting seven? Surely, she'd hang on to him like a wet t-shirt on a Playboy model while she rode the crest of her orgasm.

The possibilities excited him to no end. He needed to test each and every theory.

In two clicks, he returned the toy to its original setting and then off completely, holding it in one hand while taking slow steps to close the gap between him and the only person on his mind.

She shifted her weight nervously as he approached, unsure how to respond until he towered over her with a look she knew all too well.

Desire.

Their senses were heightened. Everything felt surreal, almost as if one misstep could send them flying through a portal back to a more disappointing reality.

Terry could smell the faint hint of mint on Patrice's breath before dipping his head to nip at her bottom lip with his teeth. She responded like he knew she would by making him work for his prize. Patrice never let him intimidate her. Not for their first time together all those years ago, certainly not now.

He chuckled before leaning in again, this time leaving a trail of short kisses from her jaw to her clavicle. He inhaled deeply, breathing in vanilla and the subtle spice of his cologne from moments earlier.

Suddenly, Patrice felt weightless. Her feet dangled briefly and without warning as Terry took her from standing to sitting on the cold, hard counter before she could protest.

Patrice fought for stability, using the peaks and valleys across the expanse of his muscled arms as her anchor in the dizzying experience that was his affection. Her lips parted to draw in sharp breaths and release airy sighs of approval in a feeble attempt to remain present. At the same time, he kissed his appreciation wherever his lips saw fit. Her legs acted under their own power to spread wider and make room for whatever came next.

Her hands left a trail of tingles as she dragged them from his arms to the back of his head, down the sides of his face, over his tank top, between his pecs, and, finally, into the waistband of his shorts.

Surprised by her touch, he lurched forward to grab her wrist. "Not this time," he whispered, unsure he meant what he was saying.

Patrice nodded in understanding, earning a sloppy kiss for her obedience.

There was no discerning where his mouth ended, and hers began. They were on one accord, hungrily tasting, exploring, and consuming each other without holding back.

Then, the low hum returned. This time, it was closer than Patrice remembered.

Cold silicone soon caressed her inner thigh. A low whimper escaped past her lips as she made eye contact with Terry. He leaned close enough to speak against her mouth.

"You trust me?"

"Mhmm," she answered, fighting to keep her eyes open as he moved further up her leg.

"Let me take care of you, then. Take these off for me."

Trembling fingers latched onto her boyshorts, pushing them to mid-thigh for Terry to take care of the rest. As quickly as he was gone, he'd returned for another taste of her tongue. Languid and unhurried, he used the time to relax her while slowly inching the vibrator to her center.

Initial contact made her hips buck forward, and her head softly hit the mirror behind her. Terry chased her with sloppy kisses at the base of her neck.

The slow and steady setting was enough to get her wet and sticky. Terry'd be lying if he said the thought alone didn't have him wanting to renege on his early statement and dive in with reckless abandon. But, he remained steadfast in his pursuit of her pleasure.

Once the initial shock had worn off, Patrice ground her hips slowly, making small circles while the vibration worked to settle her nerves. Terry took a break from leaving praises in the form of kisses on her throat to smile at his girl.

"You're beautiful. You know that?"

She gripped his chin and pulled him closer for a fiery kiss that he let her lead. "Yeah. But, I love to hear you say it."

"Good," he answered, grinning at her confidence as he upped the intensity on her vibrator. Her eyes clamped shut as her entire body tensed. "Stay with me."

A deep, steadying breath turned into a silent scream as Patrice gave in to the natural urge to hold her breath. Terry used his free hand to sneak up her tank top and grope one breast while pressing his lips to her ear.

"Breathe, baby. In and out." He modeled the behavior until she found the strength to match his tempo. "There you go. You feel good?"

"Yes, yes," she whisper-chanted to the ceiling, her head thrown back in unimaginable euphoria.

"I want you to feel this good every day. You deserve it, right?"

A twisting, turning feeling at the pit of her stomach forced her to draw in a deep breath to steady herself. Her answer came in a soft moan. "Right."

"Damn right." Pressing his forehead to hers, he zeroed in on each of her features twisted in unthinkable pleasure.

She kept her mouth open to sigh and moan as she saw fit. Her nostrils flared in a rhythm as she tried to force herself to breathe through every peak and valley of the moment. Her brows were knitted, and her eyes closed as if she were too afraid to look at him. He wondered what she was thinking.

Did she want him inside of her as much as he wanted the same for himself? Was she yearning for more pressure? Could she feel how much he loved her?

"Don't get quiet on me. I want everything. Let 'em hear you. You need more?"

A quick glance down helped him reposition the vibrator on her already sensitive bud, earning a guttural curse as appreciation for his good deed.

"Fuck! Don't move. Please don't move."

Terry obliged for the moment, too entranced by his view of her flower on full display for his viewing pleasure. Glistening. Wet. Beautiful. Appetizing like nothing he'd ever seen before. He pulled the toy away and replaced its presence with his thumb. Slow circles and firm pressure made her want to close her legs to escape the overwhelming stimulation, but her attempt was futile. She was at his mercy.

"Damn," he whispered to himself, enamored by the way her body reacted to his touch.

Every revolution around her clit brought with it more wetness at her entrance and indentations in his arms from her nails gripping for dear life.

It wasn't enough to touch her. He needed to taste.

Using his middle and ring fingers, he teased his introduction with gentle brushes against her inner lips. She keened for more against his mouth as she held his face close. He granted her wish and pushed into her slowly, immediately feeling her warmth envelop his long digits.

Their mouths hung open, breaths being traded between the two as he set a slow pace. Not enough to bring forth a release. Just enough for Terry to get what he came for.

Removing his fingers left him with a coating of clear arousal nearly dripping to his knuckles. Patrice watched him as he smirked at the sight, examining it like a jeweler appraising precious diamonds.

When he'd seen enough, he put both fingers into his mouth and closed his eyes to savor the taste. Patrice's mouth hung open as if waiting for her turn to experience the wonders of her juices.

Had she closed her eyes for even a second, she would have missed Terry extending his tongue from his mouth to allow a mixture of his saliva and her essence the chance to slide from his tongue in anticipation of a new host.

Something profound and hungry within her made her lean her head back and hold her tongue out to receive all that he had to give. It excited her, delighted her, and aroused her like never before.

Like a lewd work of art, spit connected their tongues in what would otherwise be seen as an infraction among more proper circles. But fuckin' wasn't proper, and all forms of affection were welcomed in their home.

Almost immediately, Terry rushed to reward her with a wild and frenzied kiss that nearly surprised him.

Primal. Carnal. Intense. Fucking disgusting. He loved every minute of it.

The race was on. Terry kept their lips connected as he returned the vibrator to her clit, dialing up the settings to a level below their max.

Patrice's moans and his couldn't be distinguished from one another. Her hips bucked wildly. Her fingernails left marks in their wake as they scratched at his arms and back. Her body twitched and seized in anticipation of the inevitable.

"Oh my - fuck!" Satisfied tears slid from the corners of her eyes and down her cheeks to her man's awaiting lips. "Terrence!"

Terry remained locked in. A man possessed. A one-track mind focused on nothing other than completing the mission.

The first stage of her orgasm came without a warning. Heat washed over her as if she'd stepped outside at high noon, making her skin almost unbearable to live in. Her toes curled, her voice caught in her throat despite the intense desire to release a scream from the depths of her soul into the atmosphere.

She thanked Terry and God in Heaven for blessing her with the opportunity to touch the moon and the stars without ever leaving her home. Terry used his free hand to grip and massage her thighs, knowing that the best was yet to come.

Patrice's voice began to climb as the main event approached. Shallow breaths gave way to loud gasps for air, which came rapidly while she did the same. She was suspended in a beautiful bliss and already sad about the prospect of coming down.

Her lover reveled in the opportunity to see her unraveling at the seams.

"I'll always come back to you, beautiful. No matter what, okay? Look at me." His request earned intense focus from Patrice under hooded eyes. "You're so pretty. Say it back to me. Tell me you're pretty."

"I'm so pretty!" Impending release sent all her words out in one breathless sentence.

He smiled at her compliance. "I know you're close. Hold my hand."

Her fingers scrambled against the counter, filling the spaces between his fingers and gripping with enough force to turn her knuckles a lighter shade of brown.

"That's my girl. I love you," was all he could manage before Patrice let out something akin to a squeal, turning his declaration into background fodder.

Sensitive, overstimulated, and completely spent, the after-effects of her release had her panting to recover. Her ears rang with a heady feeling that could only be compared to a few puffs of homegrown bud.

Terry held her through it all, propping her up while her body sagged against him for stability. He put aside the vibrator to run his palms up and down her legs while he showered her temple with whispered praises and sweet kisses.

He waited until her breathing was even before gingerly pressing his forehead to hers. "You good?"

His smirk was incredibly smug. He was proud of himself, and for good reason. She was open to giving credit where credit was due.

"You can never leave this house without me again. I hope you're happy."

"That's the whole point. My granny taught me some things during them summers down in New Orleans, you know?"

"Oh, so this is some magic shit?"

"Family business, baby. Gotta have the last name to find out." A playful glint in his eyes and a squeeze to her waist made Patrice's stomach feel butterflies that she thought would never return. Terry tapped her nose with his index finger and stepped back. "Stay put. I'll clean you up."

Patrice scoffed. Stay put. As if she could go anywhere. As if she wanted to go anywhere.

Like the perfect gentleman, Terry was tender with his care. A warm towel to soothe sore muscles and ensure a thorough cleanup was mandatory. The extra loving was complimentary for only his favorite lady.

"Stay with me tonight," Patrice requested as he slid her panties back up her legs.

He shook his head and smiled while prompting her to lift her hips. "I don't know if that's a good idea, Treecey."

"I just wanna be next to you. Nothing more."

Terry regarded her doe-eyed plea with a small smile as he helped her off the counter. He pulled her into an embrace, fiending for one more kiss. She obliged happily until he'd had his fill.

His hands slid from her sides to her ass for a generous squeeze before answering.

"Okay. Whatever you want. Let me handle something real quick, and then I'll meet you there."

Patrice accepted her victory with a silly happy dance before turning to make enough room in her bed for an extra person. Terry sent her on her way with a light tap to her ass, amused by how something as simple as sleeping next to each other was exciting for her.

Once she was safely out of the bathroom with the door shut behind her, he finally found time to take a deep breath and compose himself. The actual test of his strength was in the next room, and he couldn't risk the trust he'd worked so hard to build.

After adjusting his shorts, he picked up his phone and sat on the toilet lid, hoping that watching dog videos or Nationals highlights would clear his mind.

He had every intention of opening the web browser on his phone until he noticed a series of messages from an old friend.

From: McBride

You check your mail?

Trial against chief starts in two weeks. Gonna need you to testify to take him down

Know you said you weren’t coming back

Do it for Mike

---

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @oniccah @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @deja-r

#terry richmond #terry richmond x oc #rebel ridge #aaron pierre

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