#so i tried to pull an oc to help with that. at first i tried to get alec and ray cuz theyre the ones i developed a lot and like too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

anyalovesu · 1 day

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𝓐fter the Aftermath

heeseung x medical school fem!reader

—you and heeseung are best friends and highschool sweethearts that broke up before you entered medical school. now one of your friends from your highschool friend group is getting married—and they want the whole gang back before the wedding.

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genre : angst with fluff ending ( slightly suggestive ending again lol )

pairings : heeseung x fem!reader

wc : 4.4k+ words

cw :

☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ oc is mentioned ( ida )

☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ non-idol!au

☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ heeseung and reader were immature and dense asf

☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ jake, chaeryeong, and reader casually refers each other as "bitch"

☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ ( ft. en- & chaeryeong from itzy )

☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ jay and mentioned oc are getting married

☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ not proofread ( yet )

song : already over - sabrina carpenter ( emails i can't send , 2022 ) & you're losing me - taylor swift ( from the vault , 2023 )

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“A fucking Darry ring! Jay, you romantic fucker!” Chaeryeong squeals as soon as she sees the ring. “I didn't know you had it in you!”

“The fuck you mean you didn't know I had it in me? I've basically courted all three of you because you gatekept Ida so much in highschool!” Jay argued. To be fair, it really was the case. You three were looked at like feral cats whenever someone took the other. It took a lot of warming up for Heeseung back then when he started dating you. Ida and Chaeryeong have always been hesitant to let anyone in your heart, after all you have always been a woman with a goal and god knows what lengths your girls will take to make sure you get to your goals. You're just the same to them, so it was never a question for anyone. You never hesitated to bite whenever someone tried to hurt your girls. You saw each other through all of your phases, it was something that you learned overtime.

“But a Darry ring…” Chaeryeong trailed, holding Ida’s hand, admiring the shining diamond ring on her ring finger. You weren’t going to lie, the ring was beautiful, somehow, it really encapsulates the beauty of your friend just as well. You supposed Jay just knows her that well. “You’re gonna be stuck with this bitch for the rest of your life, Jongseong.”

“The fuck did you just say?”

“I don’t mind,” he replies lovingly.

You couldn’t help but feel your heart clench. You feel as though it was just yesterday when Heeseung would promise the same exact things to you and now you couldn’t bear to look at him. He was your bestfriend too—before you even met Chaeryeong and Ida. How did it even come to this?

“You’re quiet,” Jake chuckles, finding a seat next to you from the garden chair where you sat with your tablet, seemingly reviewing your fill for the weekend—bullshit, everyone knows you’re watching Chaeryeong admire the sparkling stone on Ida’s finger when everyone expected you and Heeseung to be the first to marry. And you thought so too. There was no other future than the one you once saw with Heeseung and it seemed to vanish into thin air when he needed more from you and there was nothing more than you could give.

“Do you want me to let the entire building know I’m here like Chaer is right now?” You playfully ask, trying to pull a grin for him to stop speculating.

“I’m saying all you have to do is admit that it hurts you, and it’s gonna feel a bit better.”

“I don’t have it in me to be hurt that my best friend is getting married to the love of her life.” You replied quietly, pretending to look at your tablet once again to avoid looking at Jake, who seemed to suddenly develop a magical skill to read your mind. “Ida deserves all that. I’m not supposed to be hurt that she’s going to spend the rest of her life with someone she wants to be with.”

“Ida does deserve to have her happy ending,” Jake nodded. “But it doesn’t make your feelings less valid.”

“I don’t get to be hurt over something that I brought upon myself.” You hummed, gathering your things to leave. But Jake managed to catch your hand, stopping you on your tracks.

“If he bothers you, just tell me and Chaer. We’ll take care of it.” He smiled at you pitifully before letting go of your hand.

“Thank you.”

It’s been years. You should’ve been over this long ago, and even though some days feel better than the others, you couldn’t help but blame yourself for how things went down with you and Heeseung.

You could still vividly remember how you cried in your study while Heeseung screamed and begged for you to say something—to fight him about something, that even just for a glimpse, show that you still care—but you tried to block him off, fully knowing that Heeseung was already ready to walk out of your life if you didn’t say a word and start an argument with him. But your medical admissions exams were coming up—you couldn’t fail your medical admission exams, your dad is already barely making enough to send you and your sister to school and your mom was sickly. You couldn’t fail and risk another year of hardship for your family.

Heeseung packed his bags and left that night. You didn’t reach out—kept pushing making sure you arose to the top of your class to retain your scholarship.

It’s been 3 years now. Your sister is in college and you were in medical school by means of your inheritance from your spinster aunt who had just passed away. While your father doesn’t have to work just as much because of your inheritance, he still has to make a living for him and your mom. What caused your and Heeseung’s drift was long resolved, but you didn’t have him anymore. You were on your own now.

“Are you okay, noona?” Riki points out as he reaches out to take your hand, pulling you back to reality as you stand in what you thought was an empty hallway. “You’re breathing fast.”

“Y-yeah, sorry.” You took your hand, immediately walking over to your shared room with Chaer to avoid talking about it even more.

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“Have you said something?” Jay asked curiously as he stood next to Heeseung who seemed busy playing billiards with Sunghoon and Jake.

As if on cue, Sunghoon and Jake look up from the pool table to glance at Jay and Heeseung, who kept his eyes on the table, seemingly trying to ignore Jay.

“Hyung, you can't keep on ignoring Y/N over something you were already aware of,” Jake sighed, looking at Heeseung intently. “You knew it was virtually impossible for her to give what you wanted her to give during that time.”

“Was it really that hard to give?” Heeseung spat at him, fuming that his friends are refusing to side with him on this one. “She could've said something!”

“Hee, you were asking her to marry you!” Jake argued. “Before M-DEET! You know how important that is for her! One point off on that exam and the scholarship is down the drain—and you thought it was the best time to propose? Heeseung, your best friend was about to break and you thought popping the question was a great idea?”

Jay was just as furious. How could Heeseung be that inconsiderate to you? You've been there for him in the best way that you could for more years than the rest of the group and never failed to give an answer to him in all of those years and the first time you failed to do so, he walked away and allowed you to blame yourself for it? He is insane to think that!

“She could've said no, Jongseong! She could've told me she didn't want to marry me—”

“Do you really think Y/N was no longer in love with you, that's why you walked away?” Sunghoon mumbles quietly.

“Why else?” Heeseung rolls his eyes, staring at Sunghoon hard, slamming the cue stick on the table. “She was with Jake most of the time—she still is. Maybe she wanted to marry Jake!”

“Okay, foul—” Jake looked appalled at the accusation. “Number 1, maybe if you wanted to pursue medicine too, you would be in the conversation. Number 2, hyung, literally what the fuck—she spent the last three years wishing she said something because she loved the living fuck out of your stupid excuse of an existence. And number 3, if you don't get your ass together and make amends with Y/N, I swear to your stupid excuse of a living, God will ignore all your hopes and dreams like you are ignoring the truth right now.”

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You say quietly by the deck, feet dipped in the cold lake water, listening to the cicadas sing their song for the night. It's been a while since you've had this kind of peace to yourself away from books and hospital halls. Don't get yourself wrong, you absolutely have no regrets on pursuing your dream—it wasn't just yours after all, it was your family's too. So, you really don't find it in you to regret putting everything in the line to chase for your medical degree. But man was it sad.

“You've been so quiet, babe,” Chaer mumbles quietly, which startled you a bit, making her laugh lightly as she settled next to you.

“The guys spoke to Heeseung-hyung,” Riki follows, sitting on your otherside.

“Why aren't you with them?” You asked. It's also been a while since all of you had a break, it was concerning to you why Riki wasn't spending it with someone he could relate to better and instead is preferring to sit here in boredom with you.

“I see them every time. It's been a while since I saw you and I wanted to make sure you were okay. You looked a bit shaken up a while ago,” the younger explains, reaching for your hand to fiddle with it. His hands were warm, unlike yours. You've always had freezing hands, you reckon it was the lack of sleep that caused your low-iron levels. A bit ironic to be unhealthy while pursuing a health-related program, but you suppose that's the way that it has to go. “Your hands are never warm.”

“They used to.” Chaer joked, before leaning her head against your shoulder.

“I'm going to push you bitch, don't try me,” you playfully threaten.

“But seriously, are you never going to talk about it?” Riki finally blurts out. “It's obviously taking a toll on you to be around him.”

“It's not the place for that—”

“Oh it is,” Chaer snorted. “It's all Ida and Jay are worrying about. You're going to be Ida's maid of honor and Heeseung is Jay's best man. You two are going to do a heck lot together when you take your break from school and start to do the wedding preparations with and for them. So it's smart to do this and let you guys sort it out. But the both of you seem to not get a fucking hint. So here we are.”

You sat flabbergasted at Chaer's expected bluntness. She always spoke before she could think, it was so in character of her to just blurt that out like it was nothing.

“Sweetheart, the way you and Heeseung ended isn't doing it good for the both of you—so whether you're going to get back together or close it off for good is going to be beneficial for everyone, especially you, once it's done.” She continued. “I don't understand why you're always so passionate to help and take care of people but never seem to take care of yourself. You purposely put yourself through shit and just expect yourself to live normally with it.”

“Do I really have the resources to not be in shit, Chaer?” You asked quietly, watching the calm lake and the moon sitting quietly on the horizon, lighting up the deck along with the light fixtures in the nearby gazebo. “I had a family to sustain and he was asking me to start a life with him. I couldn't do that and he knew it.”

“And I wanted to do just that. I wanted to marry him—but what about my family? What about Eunchae? Eomma? Appa? If it was just me, I would've said something. I would've just argued my entire night with him because I loved him more than I could ever possibly love myself but our future was on the line the next day. Did he ever think of that? He was my best friend! He should’ve known that!”

Chaer sat there listening to her, sloshing the water her feet were in. It was the first time in three years you ever talked about it. It was always hard for you and you drowned yourself in school to ever have time to speak about how you felt. And honestly, it felt lighter now. Your face was wet with tears and your chest was clenching but it was lighter now.

“I totally understand why Ida and Jay wanted to do this. But is it really possible? When Heeseung still thinks I just left him hanging for school?”

“Get your ass right there and speak it out, you wuss!”

All three of your heads turn to where the deck started, to see Sunghoon and Jake holding Heeseung by both of his arms, Sunoo and Jungwon following behind, making sure to catch Heeseung if he escapes the two holding him. Not too far away from the back door of the rest house, Jay and Ida stood with Jay's arm around your best friend's shoulders, laughing at the scene unfolding before them. They are sneaky motherfuckers for managing to pull this off, that’s for sure.

“Well, I think it's a conversation you two have to make now,” Chaer chuckled evilly at you, placing a soft kiss on you cheek before pushing herself up to stand on the deck and helping you and Riki.

Soon enough you and Heeseung were left alone. It was quieter now that everyone was dragged by Chaer inside the house to leave the two of you alone to talk it out.

Awkward. That’s what it is. You wouldn’t even look Heeseung in the eye. Were you afraid to fall for it again? Or were you afraid that it’ll taste more bitter now that you’re going to hear from Heeseung how selfish you were? Either way, it hurts. To be there and to not have the courage to say or do something. You could walk away… yeah that’s sensible. You could walk away and just leave things unsaid—it was the easy way out. But you know it’s not going to make anything better.

“In your entire lifetime, have you ever thought of kissing Jake?” Heeseung blurts out, sitting perfectly still. So still, that his feet weren’t creating ripples on the water it was dipped in.

Your eyes shoot wide as you sharply turn your body towards him, finding him looking at you intently, waiting for your response.

You? And Jake?

For as long as you could remember Jake has pined for Chaeryeong and you saw them as children that would die if they hadn’t got you to rely on ever since you started your pre-med. Jake has always been just a friend and for most of the years that you were friends with him, you were with Heeseung—you never thought of kissing Jake. You’ve always had Heeseung to do that with, it was nonsensical to think of ever kissing someone else.

Also, that was he thinking about all this time? That you and Jake were going to be a better pair than you and him?

“Is that why you walked away? You thought you would lose me to Jake?” You asked, appalled as you feel your heart doing somersaults inside your chest, gnawing at your ribcage, going berserk as you connect the dots right in front of you.

“Is it stupid?” he asked shamefully as he let out a huge sigh, eyes diverting towards his feet now. “You were with Jake for most of your time. I only see you when I come home from work after university and wake up with you getting ready to get in his car to start your day. What was I supposed to think?”

“Jake is your friend, Hee.” You utter, brows still furrowed but you didn’t have it in you to be mad at him—after all he had a point and you were finally hearing it for the first time. “Why would you think I would do that to you?”

“I know you wouldn’t. But Jake could. He has everything I don’t and I was immature to think that asking you to marry me would somehow give me comfort that it wasn’t going to happen because that’s what you do when people are upset. You offer them comfort. So when you weren’t arguing with me to somehow give me what I was needing that time I took it as a sign that I have already lost you to Jake. And I walked away.” You watch him intently, trying to figure out if he was being forced to do this or if he genuinely wanted to fix this after quite some time.

But Heeseung is Heeseung. He’s always been hard to predict. Was he really though? Or were you always too busy to notice what he was feeling that way?

You could’ve done something to mitigate the situation. You would’ve explained it better before you were in a tight situation where you physically and mentally couldn’t. How could you not notice? Heeseung is your best friend before everyone else. How come you never felt it?

“But I guess they were right. You had a dream and there’s nothing that could change your mind on that,” he sighed heavily. “It was immature. We were so young back then. Even I wouldn’t have known how I would’ve started that new chapter with you—it’s just that at that time, it was the only solution that I got. So I’m incredibly sorry for all the damage that I’ve caused.”

You didn’t quite know what to say. The confession was overwhelming that you found yourself speechless, just sitting there next to Heeseung, whom you know deep inside of your heart, despite all the pain he’s caused, you still loved so much. After all, you inflicted just as much pain to him when all that happened. But there were no words for the situation and it was eating you up that you didn’t know what to say. You felt like you were putting him in the same position as you did three years ago.

“I don’t know why I let my ego take so much of me in the past years to never reach out and try to fix this,” he continued. “It would be fine if you cannot forgive me right now. I can only hope that you do at some point in our lives—”

“Give me time to process it, Heeseung,” you blurted out, forcing yourself to say something. Even just for once, give it your all to never let Heeseung slip from your fingers again like you had done when you said nothing back then. “Give me time. That's all I want.”

“Take as much time as you want,” he smiles softly at you.

Oh you knew you were fucked when you saw that smile again. It’s like your demons were fighting themselves once again and not you anymore—you couldn’t explain it. You were happy and you haven’t felt that specific feeling of love and happiness for quite some time. How can it be so easy for Heeseung to do that to you?

On your third day out there, all of you found yourself sitting in a circle in the living room, with a couple of bottles of expensive sangria. It also turned out that you didn’t drink much because you were not blessed with the best alcohol tolerance that Chaeryeong and Jake had. After a couple glasses of sangria, you were already properly drunk off your face. But to your comfort, Ida was not any better. Jay had brought her to bed a good hour ago and the fact that you're still here, still sipping on your glass is an achievement itself.

“I miss when Jake wasn’t a bitch and he actually did not have to rely on me on Chaer to pass,” you blurted out, laughing as you leaned against Chaer.

“When was that? When wasn’t Jake a bitch?” Chaer laughed, unaware that she was actually sitting across from where you were instead of beside you. Heeseung could only smile as his heart swells at the sudden skinship. It’s been a while since he felt that way—or maybe he was just buzzed from the Sangria—or maybe he was falling in love. Either way, he doesn’t mind. Your hair smells nice, and you seem cozy resting your heavy head on his shoulder. “Jake is born a bitch and will die a bitch.”

“Why am I catching strays all of sudden?” Jake argues, sitting up straight as he pours Chaeryeong another glass.

“Because you’re a bitch!” You laughed continuously, completely off your face as you snuggled closer to what you thought was Chaeryeong. “I don’t even know why Heeseung thought I would choose you over him. The only thing I ever think of is whether or not it’s valid to pick a fight with you for giving me a headache all the time! Why would I even think about kissing you?”

“Y/N–”

“Girl, don’t even get me started—I have to call you so I can get up in the morning, I have to send you notes, keep up with your org work and your duty schedule because if I don’t you’d be a damned dead man walking! And why would I want to kiss you! Heeseung did that very well—”

“I do?”

You could feel the vibrations of his voice against the side of your head…oh shit.

Chaer… Chaeryeong… is sitting across you… next to Jake—

So then… who’s…. You sit up hastily and sharply turn towards him. You soon feel the alcohol washing out of you as soon as you realize that it wasn’t Chaeryeong you were leaning against all this time. Holy shit. You wanted the ground to open and swallow you whole right then and there— you couldn’t do it anymore.

“Tell me, baby. Did I kiss you well?” he asked again, watching as your eyes turned from shocked to dilated as you tilt your head slightly, smirking at him.

“You haven’t in a while. I wouldn’t dare to trust my judgment on that one,” you answer him. You don’t even know where it came from, liquid courage got the best of you in this one. Even Jay was sitting there, in shock of how risky you were getting.

“Wouldn’t you want to know?” he dared.

“Okay, you’re both drunk—” Jungwon stands up, panicked, preparing to pull you away before you do something you will regret.

“Oh let them be!” Chaer argues, pulling Jungwon back to his seat.

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You woke up with a massive headache. You daresay the world might be spinning before you as you pull yourself up from your bed. The sun was shining too bright—God you don’t remember having your bed across a glass door, what the hell.

And why doesn’t it smell like Chaeryeong lavender humidifier?

You rub your eyes to try and get a grip on where you were. It didn’t take a few more blinks before you realized that this isn’t yours and Chaeryeong’s room.

“Fuck.”

Well, you were dressed at least. You weren’t hurting anywhere but your massive migraine to be so sure if you did hook up with anyone last night. Jesus, you couldn’t remember anything and every time you tried you were welcomed with a massive wave of headache.

“Well, at least you beat Ida too in waking up first.” Heeseung chuckled from the door, making you jump in surprise as you looked at him, shirtless with only his sweatpants on with a tray of breakfast.

“Why aren’t you dressed?” You yelled at him, looking away.

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before, Y/N,” he chuckled as he settled the tray in front of you. “Eat up. You were out of it last night, Chaeryeong had to fight you to get you to change into your pajamas.”

“What did I do last night?”

“Do you really want to know?” He chuckled as he moved around at the foot of his bed to make himself comfortable.

“I woke up in your room— I’m already in too deep, nothing could be more embarrassing.”

“Well, aside from fighting Chaeryeong to get you to change, you also fought Jake to switch rooms with you so he can room with Chaer and you’d be in our room.” He started. “You insisted we had a serious matter to talk about but as soon as you were lying on the bed you refused to sleep until I gave you a kiss.”

“So did you?” you asked, reaching for the cup of ginger tea on the tray.

“You did sleep, didn’t you?”

“Too bad I can’t remember it,” you hummed nonchalantly, closing your eyes as you enjoyed your tea. “Do you want to discuss the important matter now?”

“Do you even remember what the important matter was?” he replied.

It was as if you could feel the room slowly turn cold as you peel your eyes open, seeing Heeseung look at you intently.

Of course you know what the important matter was. It was an important matter before you were drunk. It was an important matter before you were here in the first place.

“We were always an important matter to me, Hee,” you sighed. “I’m sorry I made you feel like it wasn’t three years ago.”

“It’s forgiven,” he replied shortly. “You had a lot on your plate and it took me a while to realize that. I should be the one asking for your forgiveness.”

“We both drew blood, Hee,” you said, softly, moving the tray to move closer to him. “And I fucked up just as much as you think you did. All I want to talk about is how do you want to move forward from this.”

“Would I be crazy to say that I want us to try again?”

You could feel your heart skip a beat as soon as you heard Hee asked you that. There’s nothing you wanted more than to have your Heeseung back. To have someone to hold and go home to. To be at home at last.

“It would be even more crazy of me if I declined that after years of manifesting fate would bring you back to me,” you smiled at him.

The next thing you knew he was moving the tray out of the bed, proposing something else for breakfast. You couldn’t care less, though. Your problems were all solved. Just have to survive medical school and everything else is in place—even if it wasn’t, at least Heeseung has you now—you don’t mind adversity, especially if it meant, Hee was there to hold your hand through it.

—end.

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masterlist

a/n : hiiiiiii i'm so sorry for being mia ! internship and everything else with my personal life and school has been taking a toll on my mental health and i had to step back a bit which resulted into this ( along with the mob fic that i've been trying to write ) being pushed to the backburner but it's here now ! i would also like to thank u guys sm for the love you've given home race winner i genuinely did not think that fic would do well but i'm glad u guys enjoyed it ! i hope u guys enjoy this as much as that one !!

also if you have requests, or any plot ideas whether it may be for a part 2 of my other previous works lemme know here or dm me ! i'll try my best to write itttt ! ( might post my requests reminders later on but i'll let u guys know immediately if i'm uncomfy with the req, it's my first time doing this and i still don't have a concept of what i can and can't write so might still figure that out along the way )

tnx for making it this far <33

xo, anya ୨୧

#୨୧ anya's works #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen #enhypen angst #enha fluff #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #heeseung angst #heeseung x reader #heeseung exes to lovers #heeseung x you #heeseung x y/n #heeseung x medical school!reader #lee heeseung #enhypen nonidol!au #enhypen au

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aria0fgold · 2 months

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i really really hate to bother because. i know this can be a very personal thing and i dont want to overstep im just..idk i want help on a thing? you dont have to feel pressured if you dont want to disclose. but i was wondering how exactly you figured out you were a system? i mainly ask because ive been questioning for a while now and i just want to hear others experiences..

It's okay, I don't mind! And I don't think it's overstepping for me really! Tbh, I first wondered with being a system aroooouund last month? It was around the time I was drawing, and out of boredom I was like: "Man I wanna talk to someone but I need to draw." And then at the time, Alerik (the one I normally call Aly) went and talked to me! But during then, I was like: Haha boredom so strong I ended up talking to an OC (I remember making a post bout that too cuz I thought it was just a silly imagination thing).

I even had to cut that drawing time slightly short cuz after some time, my head just started hurting REALLY BAD, it was a different kind of headache than I normally had which was weird since I didn't do anything different much. And then! A day after that, Aly stayed and kept talking to me which I was like: "Oh wow this is kinda nice." (The system anvil hanging above my head waiting for me to notice it). So during that month, Aly would talk to me on and off and then I had sooome suspicions like: "Wait a sec what if this is... more than just imagination?" And Aly would just "Yeah. You're a system." And I was like: "??? BUT WHAT IF--" "Aria, search about it." I searched about it: "...But still--" "*loud sigh*"

It wasn't until I played Slay the Princess when I mustered up the courage to ask around bout it cuz I remember seeing friends from a server think of Slay the Princess as a game that really shows what being a system is like even though it isn't reeeally about being a system. So I sent a message like: "Yall what does it mean when a character in your head starts talking to you without much effort and it seems like they're their own person?" And Kaun, a friend that's a system too, talked to me about it and asked around too so yeah! That's how I found out that: "Oh stars that aint an imagination thing, I'm A SYSTEM???" "I told you..."

#arianswer #anon #its also a gradual thing that when i looked back made sense cuz i actually got to first talk to aly around the end of 2022?#it was when i first finished playing OMORI and i started to work on myself by a lot and i needed some help for introspection #cuz it never works out if IM the one asking questions cuz id end up answering in a bad way cuz its me and i didnt like myself back then #so i tried to pull an oc to help with that. at first i tried to get alec and ray cuz theyre the ones i developed a lot and like too #but it didnt rlly work out cuz it took way too much effort to maintain the conversation but then i thought: what if alerik then?#and doing the question and answer with him flows waaaay better but maybe cuz i never thought much bout it and i also rarely #talked to him actively outside introspection. we didnt end up being properly connected in a way? the way aly described it was that #we got connected faintly like a door opening for a short amount of time only for it to close again and lose the connection #also from talking to aly. hes been around for a loooong time apparently! ever since i was young! but we couldnt interact directly #apparently whenever i dissociate as a kid. it was aly taking the wheel until its safe but i have the Memory Hole Curse #so i cant really remember it at all. aly can pinpoint around the time of what age i am tho and he said it was when i was in elementary

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yunhoszn · 7 months

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save a horse, ride a cowboy

PAIRING jeong yunho x f!reader

WORD COUNT 12.25k

GENRES fluff﹒angst﹒smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, reader is a city girl but i tried not using too many gendered terms, cowboy!yunho RAHHHHH, mentions of food, reader has a boyfriend for most of the fic (an oc) but there’s no real infidelity, reader embarrasses themselves on what i’d say is a few occasions too many, yunho is down bad, masturbation (m! and brief f! receiving), lowkey voyeurism, a really bad dad joke, horse riding scene bc i feel that’s pivotal for a cowboy fic, lots and lots of kissing, marking, teasing, vaginal fingering x2, oral sex (f! receiving) x2, multiple orgasms, very slight edging, praise, pet names (baby, babe, and princess oops), unprotected sex (BE SAFE PLS I BEG), cowgirl position, pull out method, missionary position, creampie lol, ending is cute but also kinda up for interpretation? i guess <3

SUMMARY when your grandparents decided to retire and take a summer’s long vacation in celebration, they leave their house in your care. at least you don’t have to worry about feeding the farm animals. but you do have to worry about the tall, handsome cowboy who does.

MORE AND SHE’S DONE oh my god, this fic actually pulled so much out of me i think i was the one seeing stars by the end.. 😭 but i’m so proud of it and the goals i tried meeting while writing. first of all the length??? insane for me. i can hardly get myself to write anything longer thank 5k 😞 THATS ENOUGH ABOUT ME THO,,, this fic was heavily inspired by the django performance if u couldn’t tell by the banner 😝 and i’d first like to thank the academy aka @kimsohn for encouraging me to write this and fueling my delusions ilysm maya <3 i’d also like to give a huge thank u to @bro-atz TYSM FOR BETAING AND HELPING WITH SCENES BRO ur my life saver fr <3 PLS PLS PLS REBLOG IF U ENJOYED!!

Growing up, you weren’t the biggest fan of trips to your grandparents’ farm in the rural countryside.

You were born in a big city, full of all the glitz and glam. There were bright lights that lit the skyline at night, distracting from the stars that illuminated above. The wide open space was blocked by high towers and large skyscrapers. You were accustomed to the sound of bustling pedestrians and the obnoxious honking of cars in the streets. There was seldom an evening of complete silence.

Everything was so tightly packed together, within walking distance if you didn’t feel like hopping in a car for a fifteen minute drive. You appreciated the insanity of the train station in the mornings before school, the metro so busy with students and working class individuals. You came into contact with numerous strangers throughout your day to day life.

However, every summer until you were a senior in high school was a different story.

Your parents wanted to keep you humble, you supposed, shipping you off to your grandparents’ for three months. Living in the city kept people too sheltered, too primped and polished for the real world. They wanted you to have that exposure, to experience what it was like to live without the fanciness of urbanization. The nine months out of the year that you spent in the city stunted that exposure, though.

When you’d arrive at their farm, luggage stacked like you were taking a trip to London or Paris, you felt like a glorified version of Regina George. Maybe Blair Waldorf. Elle Woods? You weren’t even rich like that. Your parents were nice, middle class people. There was just something about cow manure and the fear of stepping on a freshly laid egg that made it difficult to adjust to the setting.

It was most likely your stubbornness throughout your childhood that held you back even as you got older and more educated. You thought after graduating high school, the three-months-long “retreat” would come to an end. You’d only need to visit when necessary, maybe a week max. And that was true to an extent. During your university years, you only visited the farm around once a year. You were too consumed with school to even go home sometimes.

And then your grandparents decided to retire.

Their farm had supplied the town over with produce and other home-grown items for as long as you could remember. But they were getting older and no one in the family was willing to inherit the farm or its responsibilities. In celebration of their retirement, they planned a grand vacation to visit multiple countries. Their itinerary spanned an entire summer, just like your trips to the farm when you were younger.

Because you were the only one familiar enough with the area, they enlisted you to housesit while they were gone. You tried to get out of it, but they didn’t trust anyone else as much as you, despite your convictions about country life. So you reluctantly agreed, packing up your things to prepare for another grueling summer at the farm one last time.

But there was a bit of a setback.

”What do you mean someone’s living in the farmhouse behind their house?” You shriek into the receiver, holding your phone between your shoulder and ear as you zip up your final bag. Your mom sighs on the other end.

”Your grandma just only now told me, apparently it slipped her mind,” you can hear the sympathy in her tone. “He’s this boy who grew up in the town and he’s gonna take over the farm for them on the condition that they still live on the property. She said he shouldn’t get in your way and he’s expecting your presence. You’ll only see him if you ever actually go out to the farm and when he brings groceries to the house.”

”Great. Another thing I didn’t sign up for.” You mutter, giving your bedroom a once over to make sure you’re not forgetting anything. “Is there anything else I should know before I get there, like a secret pet or maybe a family living in the attic?”

”Watch the attitude, Y/N,” she warns, and you shut up immediately. “Look, I know this isn’t ideal. You’re a grown adult and you’d rather spend your summer going out with your friends, but you already told your grandparents you would do this for them. It’ll be over before you know it.”

You sigh, nodding even though she can’t see it. At least you didn’t have to worry about caring for their farm animals. It was time to think of this as a staycation rather than torture. Sure, your friends were going to be living it up in the Bahamas for a week and your boyfriend was going to be here while you were surrounded by nothing but flat landscape for acres.

Perhaps it was good for you that there would be someone else on the property. You might’ve started to feel scared being alone in the middle of nowhere for so long. Though, your boyfriend probably won’t be the biggest fan of you staying within the vicinity of another man for three months. You’d just deal with that later.

The drive to your grandparents’ farm is actually more peaceful than anything else. Driving for long periods of time wasn’t your favorite thing to do, but doing it by yourself with nothing but your music filling your ears was a sort of therapy. It allowed you to come to terms with your fate for the summer and what it could entail, even if it wasn’t exactly what you had in mind.

Seeing the lush greenery for miles upon miles as you neared their home evoked a sense of tranquility within you. If you kept a positive outlook on your situation, you would make it through these next few months unscathed and your sanity still intact. Maybe you despised the wide open space for years when you were a kid, but now that you’re an adult, you think you could learn to appreciate it and its beauty.

As long as the guy living in the farmhouse didn’t bother you like your grandmother said, everything would be—

Oh.

You pull up in front of the house, already thrown for a loop by the tall, very handsome stranger walking his dog back from the mailbox. His dark hair obscured his eyes, a bandana tied around his neck to match with the one hanging off the Border Collie’s collar. The two turn around at the sound of your engine, stopping in their tracks once you’ve parked.

He brings a hand up to shield the sun from his eyes, watching cautiously as you park slowly. You don’t know why you’re so anxious, it’s not like you’ll be interacting with him much during your stay anyways. There’s something about his slender figure and the fact that he was so clearly dedicated to what he does upon first glance that it makes you feel shy. You suck in a sharp breath before deciding to exit your vehicle, wiping clammy palms on your denim shorts. You’re starting to regret not dressing a little cuter, a little more presentable.

His features soften upon recognizing you, the pretty granddaughter that your grandparents showed him prior to leaving for their trip. The hand sheltering his face falls to his side and he gives you a warm smile, somehow warmer and brighter than the sweltering summer sun. You’d always been told not to talk to strangers, to keep your distance for your own safety, but you can’t help mirroring his expression with a small wave.

“H-Hi,” your voice wobbles and you kind of want to die just a bit. “I’m Y/N. My grandparents mentioned you lived in the farmhouse out back, but didn’t give me a name or face to expect.”

He extends his arm out and you shake his hand, albeit slightly nervously. His eyes squint when he glances between you and his dog. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N. I’m Yunho, and this is Yeoreum.”

The name is fitting for the red and white colored Border Collie, her tongue sticking out as she stares up at you with big eyes that almost resemble her owner’s. You bend down to pet her, patting the soft tufts of fur on her head and appreciating her licks of excitement. Yunho laughs, whistling to catch her attention.

“Yunho and Yeoreum,” you repeat, a tiny grin on your face. “Befitting. Does she come with the property?”

“Unfortunately, no. She’s spoken for,” he teases, a pout on his features. “But she can visit whenever you’d like. Jokes aside, did you need any help moving stuff into the house?”

”That would be great, actually!” You scratch the back of your neck, lips pursing. Yunho waits for you to unlock the trunk of your car and places Yeoreum’s leash in your possession, making quick work transporting your bags inside. What was just supposed to be some light assistance, has evidently become him doing everything on his own while you stand and look pretty with his dog.

You didn’t bring too much with you since you didn’t have plans to leave while you were housesitting and your grandparents weren’t so old fashioned that they didn’t have a washing machine. Still, you felt useless allowing this stranger you’d just met to do all this manual labor on your behalf.

”Does he always do this?” You murmur to the Border Collie, falling to a seat on the lowest front porch step. She doesn’t give you a response (not that you expected her to), but pants happily in lieu of one, craning her head so you can scratch the spot behind her ear.

“You’re a guest, it’s just good hospitality for me to help.” Yunho says as he comes out of the house, stationing himself in front of you with his hands on his hips, thumbs in his belt loops.

“There’s a difference between helping and doing the work yourself. You’re just being modest,” you push yourself up to hand him Yeoreum’s leash. “But thank you anyway, that was really nice. I’m so tired from driving up here, so I think I would’ve collapsed doing all that back and forth.”

”You should go rest,” he glances at the house behind you. “There’s a whole three months of farm life ahead of you, so don’t wear your pretty little self out just yet.”

Yunho salutes to you and takes his leave, walking around your grandparents’ house toward what you assume is the farmhouse. Your eyes are wide and your cheeks feel hot, and you’re well aware that it’s not because of the summer heat. Your fingers clutch at the material of your t-shirt and you shake it to fan yourself.

It seemed like you were in for a bumpy ride these next few months. But like you reiterated prior to arriving, everything would be just fine so long as you and farm boy went your separate routes and lived your separate lives.

Yeah. Things would be alright. You hope.

It’s a week into your stay on your grandparents’ farm when you bump into Yunho again.

You’re toweling your neck after getting out of the shower, heading into the kitchen to make yourself another bowl of cereal for breakfast. So far the only downside has been your inability to cook a decent meal. Takeout or your boyfriend sleeping over were usually your saving grace, but without having either of those options, you’ve stuck to microwaveable things.

The sight of Yunho unloading groceries onto the counter has you squealing and nearly jumping out of your own skin. He flinches at your volume, knocking over the bag of rice resting against the vase in the center. Thankfully it was still sealed shut, if not there would’ve been a mess of rice grains all over the island counter. His clumsiness has you slapping a palm over your mouth to silence your giggles, not wanting to embarrass him.

”Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you…” You apologize sheepishly, folding your towel over your arm and placing it on a barstool nearby.

“N-No, you’re fine! I shouldn’t have just let myself in, it’s kinda just a habit. You deserve your privacy without having to worry about whether or not I’m gonna barge in unannounced.” He dismisses your apology with a wave of his hand. “I’ll just put these up for you and then I’ll be on my way.”

”Can I help?” You waddle over to him, fingers laced behind your back. “I’d feel bad watching you put my groceries away for me after going out and getting them.”

Yunho gestures for you to occupy the space beside him with a small smile that takes solace at the corner of his mouth. The two of you do everything in complete silence, still not entirely used to each other’s presence because of the lack of crossing paths. As you’re finishing up, you start grabbing the items you need for your cereal. He raises an eyebrow at you.

”You don’t want something a little more filling?” He suddenly questions, jutting his chin at your bowl.

”I would love that if I knew how to cook,” you laugh. “Ironic isn’t it? The granddaughter of two farmers can’t cook to save their life.”

Yunho shakes his head with a chuckle, ruffling his hair. “Well, I don’t have to feed the horses for another hour if you’d like for me to whip up something better than a bowl of cereal.”

“Really?” Your eyebrows furrow. Despite growing up with the mindset that you were above the farm life your grandparents tried to impose on you, you hated feeling like you were coming across as entitled. You didn’t want Yunho to think you were lazy or that you were too good. “You don’t have to do that. I can survive on instant ramen and cereal, I swear.”

”Y/N,” he says your name with a certain authority to it, and you’ve never loved the sound of your name coming out of someone else’s mouth so much before. “I want to. I’m not the world’s greatest chef or anything, but I have a couple tricks up my sleeve.”

”Okay, then,” you nod, taking a seat at the island. You watch in awe as he dances around the kitchen and prepares something for you. It’s weird, not in the sense that you feel awkward around this complete stranger, but because you feel the opposite. You feel comfortable around him, like you’ve known him for a while. It’s almost like Yunho has been a casual part of your life for much longer than a week. He’s easy to get along with, easy to mold into what you’re used to.

And that’s weird because you have a boyfriend. A boyfriend who cooks dinner for you most nights, but somehow has never made you feel this taken care of. It throws you off. That should definitely not be the case. How is this man doing this in one week and your boyfriend couldn’t in two years?

The guilt settles in the pit of your stomach quickly. Sure, your boyfriend might’ve had a habit of forgetting important dates and didn’t give you half as much attention as he should’ve, but did that warrant the emotions brewing in your chest? Could that excuse this notion that maybe it was time to finally call it quits?

You zone out as Yunho finishes cooking your breakfast, too inside of your head to even fawn over the doting and slight coddling he was doing. Maybe you need to have a long conversation with Seojun about your relationship and where you want it to go. Perhaps it was a nice idea to invite him out to visit the farm, it could do you both some good.

“Ta-da!” Yunho holds out a plate to you, the sparkle in his eyes effectively pushing out any thoughts of your boyfriend and the shame that was picking at you. You can’t help but reciprocate his expression when you see how delicious the food looks.

He’d made you omurice, the ketchup on top in cute squiggly lines to form whiskers and a little dog face. You accept the plate gratifyingly, your fingers brushing as you do so. He smiles shyly, eyeing you carefully while you take the first bite. You don’t remember the last time you had a home cooked breakfast, accustomed to the occasional muffin at the coffee shop near your house.

”’Not the world’s greatest chef’ my ass,” you grumble, pouting at his humbleness and his inability to be bad at anything. “I might just ask you to have breakfast with me every morning if you can chef it up this well.”

That melodic laugh of his rings in your ears, his elbows resting on the island and his chin in his palms. “I’m sure Yeoreum would appreciate a companion who isn’t me.”

“How long have you had her?” You ask, shoveling more omurice into your mouth. If you weren’t so hungry and so appeased by how delicious it was, you’d feel bad for ruining his hard work. The ketchup no longer looked like a dog, but rather a splatter of red all over your plate.

“Almost four years now. I had her for a year before I met your grandparents. She adores them, so it’s no surprise that she likes you too.” He has this fond gaze in his eyes as he talks about his beloved Border Collie and it makes your heart ache.

The fact that he has such a good relationship with your grandparents seals the deal for you. Well, it would seal the deal if you were single. Yunho is like the ideal man that every parent would want their daughter to bring home. He knows how to cook, knows how to clean. He’s adept around the house, skilled in yard work and other random jobs like fixing leaky pipes and installing new appliances. He’s gentle, but doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty.

Your parents would never meet him, though. After the summer was over, you’d be back in Seoul and he would still be here, a distant memory. You forcibly laugh away the thought, excusing it as your response to his words and continuing the conversation about his dog.

Perhaps this stay would be harder to get through than you thought.

As the weeks pass you by, you find yourself becoming more and more infatuated with Jeong Yunho.

Cooking breakfast for you in the morning has become a regular thing. Monitoring him at the stove with sleepy eyes and a mug of fresh coffee in your hands has ingrained itself into your routine. Yeoreum called the spot beneath your stool her own now, laying there as her owner made your food. You think the transition from seeing him as just this comforting presence, this kind individual, to wanting something more was almost too smooth.

Especially right now as you sit on the back porch sipping on some lemonade, admiring the cowboy as he transfers bales of hay from the bed of his pickup truck to the pigpen and the cattle pen. He pauses in between trips, stripping off his flannel and tying it around his waist. He lifts the hem of the white tank top he’s wearing and uses it to wipe sweat from his forehead, revealing the toned abdomen he had been hiding from you up until now.

You feel like you’re going insane, trying to pretend like you’re reading your book as you not so subtly gawk at his muscles straining with each bale he lifts. It’s crazy really, the effect he has on you doing his fucking job. You’ve made it a habit to sit out here and stare at him under the guise of various other things. Aside from being borderline obsessive, it’s horrible because you’re still very much in a relationship.

Most people would feel a hell of a lot worse than you do, like their entire world was crumbling between their fingertips just for finding someone else attractive. But for some reason, as time has continued to roll on, that guilt— that self-preservation— has faded. You’re dipping into another emotion that you’re too scared to explore.

Yunho takes a break from his labor to guzzle down a bottle of water, his chest heaving up and down from exertion. Had you been paying attention to anything other than the view of the handsome man, you would’ve noticed the glass sliding out of your grasp, the condensation becoming far too dense to keep a solid grip on the cup. In the midst of drooling over him, your lemonade falls to the ground with a loud clanging noise.

Your reflexes are only swift enough to save your book, but the drink spills everywhere else and you wince at how embarrassing the situation is. You hurry inside to grab a towel before he can see the mortification enveloping your features. He seemed like the observant type, like one scan of your face could tell him everything he needs to know without a single word exchanged. Your fingers curl around the edge of the counter, blowing a raspberry while you attempt to regulate your blood pressure.

Through the window above the kitchen sink, you make out a confused Yunho, brows furrowed as he looks in the direction of the house. He worried over you entirely too much, particularly when you take into account the fact that all you did was think about him in manners not necessarily safe for work. Maybe you were just delirious. That was the only logical explanation for why you’re spiraling.

The high temperatures of the summer coupled with your surroundings are contributing to your change in behavior. Yes. That made sense. You weren’t crazy.

With a bit more reprieve, you’re able to grab a tea towel and head back outside to clean up your mess. (Not unaccompanied by a couple glances in Yunho’s direction, but that’s fine. Perfectly healthy even. It’s normal to check up on a friend. At least, that’s what you tell yourself, but who’s holding you accountable?)

“You know you’ve been making me breakfast every morning without asking for anything in return,” you speak up one morning, chin resting on the island. “Is there anything I can do to repay you?”

Yunho purses his lips as he hands you your plate. “Nah, I like cooking for you.”

You try to ignore the way that has your heart fluttering in your chest, try to ignore the warmth blooming beneath your skin. Your eyes glance down at your food to avoid eye contact, bringing your chopsticks up to your lips. “Okay, well I wanna do something for you.”

Despite mumbling the words, he hears you anyway and smiles to himself as he takes a sip from his mug. He rolls up the sleeves of his denim button up, reaching down to scratch behind Yeoreum’s ear, the area that you’ve learned is her favorite. She pants joyfully, jumping on his leg excitedly. He looks between the two of you.

”Missy here needs a bath,” he says, cooing at her. “I was gonna give her one later, after I cleaned out the stables, but if you don’t mind doing it.”

”I’d do just about anything for that precious girl,” you nod enthusiastically. “Consider it done.”

This is how you end up out back, dog shampoo in one hand and the water hose in the other.

Yeoreum’s signature bandana and collar lay on one of the rocking chairs on the porch, the dog looking so different without her accessories as you prepare to bathe her. You wet her fur generously, squeezing enough shampoo into your palm to lather it on. Compared to your childhood pets, she’s pretty well behaved.

She’s probably one of the only dogs who’s ever actually enjoyed taking a bath, sitting still for you while you scrub and rinse and repeat. You take your time with cleaning her, wanting to make sure you do your best as a thank you for every plate Yunho has ever made you. Usually, this isn’t something you would jump at the opportunity to do. Somehow, being back at the farm this past month or so has done everything your parents tried to do when you were younger.

It could’ve had to do with the desensitization of being here every summer for so long that it just never stuck when you were grade school age. But now, fully grown and experiencing this all over again on your own, with new faces at your side, it’s like you’re being exposed to something different. You can see why your mom and dad didn’t want the city life to become a dependency.

You preferred the view of cabs and cafés over cows and chickens in the past, but now you found a sense of familiarity in them. You’d always want to go home as soon as you got here. Unlike other kids, you wanted your summer to be over as quickly as possible. You couldn’t imagine going home after this, though. This unveiled attachment to the farm you detested when you were younger could only be accredited to one person, and it was a little frightening.

He constantly brought out parts of you that you didn’t know existed. This enigma, the one that emphasized how big of a role he’s fulfilling in the short period of time you’ve been here, drills itself into your brain every day. You knew you had to acknowledge it sooner or later, but it was just less of a hassle to act like it wasn’t screaming at you. Your fear of change was a more pertinent issue to ignore, so you let it consume all else.

While getting lost in your thoughts, Yeoreum starts shaking and startles you, causing your hold on the hose to loosen, water spraying everywhere. The diversion has you losing your footing and slipping in the mud. You shriek, though it does nothing to block the stream that drenches you, your clothes getting wet. The universe decides it’s not on your side, because you happened to wear a white shirt. Why you chose to do that when you knew you were bathing a dog, you have no clue, but it was a little too late for regrets.

Yeoreum jumps out of the basin you had her in and runs to the farmhouse just as Yunho’s walking out, fresh from the shower. You forgot that he was cleaning the stables at the same time you were giving the Border Collie her bath, but now you’re starting to wish you waited until afterward just in case you needed the assistance. And well, you definitely needed the assistance.

Plucking the tail end of the mishap, Yunho’s initial reaction is to laugh at your misfortune, but the closer he gets to the scene, the laughter dies out in his throat. Your top is sheer enough that he can map out the outline of your black bra. It leaves very little to the imagination and he thinks he might fall to his knees right here.

Since your grandparents told him that you��d be house sitting while they were away and proudly showcased a photo of you, he’s been enthralled by you. You had the face of an angel, or maybe a really enticing demon, he hasn’t cogitated it much yet.

He swallows thickly, hoping to keep his composure as he makes his way to you. His hand is a little shaky when it reaches to take the hose from you, squeezing his eyes closed and switching off the water. He stays there for a few seconds to mentally prep himself for an up-close-and-personal look at you, even going as far as holding his breath.

“Uh— you— um— you should go inside and dry off before you catch a cold,” Yunho keeps his eyes cast downward. He’s grateful that you don’t note how red the tips of his ears are, or how he thinks the sky is suddenly much more interesting than your face.

Your head cocks to the side in confusion. “What do you mean ‘before I catch a cold’? It’s, like, a million degrees out.”

“The temperature drops at night and the sun’s setting soon. I’ll handle it from here. Yeoreum ran off, so I gotta chase after her anyway and I don’t think you want her to soak you more than she already has.” He’s insistent on shooing you away and getting you inside of the house. You huff.

”Okay… If you say so…”

Reluctantly, you spin around and traverse back. The draft of the air conditioning has you shivering, rubbing up and down your arms as you enter the bathroom to inspect the damage. Your eyes almost bulge out of their sockets when you finally see yourself. No wonder Yunho was so adamant on staving you off like you were the plague.

In your defense, you didn’t think the hose won the battle by that much. You assumed you’d just gotten everything above your shoulders wet, but no. You were practically doused head to toe. And the clear display of your brassiere under your clothes was the last thing on your mind.

He was stronger than you. Actually, he was a more respectful person than you. You would’ve gawked at him shamelessly if the roles were reversed. But at least you’re self aware! Right? The first step in recognizing that you have a problem, is admitting that you have a problem. That’s what you think they say in those addiction commercials, but you could be wrong.

Wow. Now you were comparing him to drugs. Though, you suppose there isn’t that huge of a difference. Both had equal success rates in terms of getting people high and then making it hard to wane off their effects.

You really had to quit it with the metaphor usage.

It’s around midnight that night when the lightbulb in the bathroom goes out, halting you from finishing your bedtime routine.

You’re exhausted to say the least, face damp from washing it and one of those fuzzy hairbands with the animal ears perched on your head. You were ready to crash out, but there were still a couple things you needed to do before that. It was proving to be a little difficult in the pitch black bathroom. The window above the shower was too narrow to provide any sufficient moonlight.

With a low grumble, you shuffle into your slippers and make the short trek from your grandparents’ house to Yunho in the farmhouse. You hug yourself when a strong breeze blows past, your flimsy t-shirt and sleep shorts doing hardly anything to block the cool summer night’s air.

A piece of you feels a little bad for bothering him so late, but you have no idea how to change a lightbulb. You don’t even know where the lightbulbs are. Besides, you think you’d electrocute yourself if you made an attempt to do it on your own.

You huff out a sigh and bring your knuckles up to knock at his door, waiting patiently for a response. He’s not asleep, you know this because he’s mentioned that his internal clock doesn’t turn off until two in the morning. Circadian rhythms were an odd concept, so to each their own.

“Yunho! It’s Y/N! Open up!”

When a few minutes have passed, you try the knob. Maybe it was a bit… too presumptuous of you to enter his home without explicit permission. Yes, you’d known each other for the better part of a month and a half, and yes, you’d gotten very close in that timeframe, but did that constitute your actions?

Whether or not the answer to that question was a yes or a no, you really wish you would’ve just waited outside. As you venture further in search of the cowboy, you stumble upon something you shouldn’t have.

Standing in the hallway on the other side of his bedroom, the door ajar at least an inch, you catch a glimpse of him on his bed. That white tank top you’re so used to seeing him in is between his teeth, eyebrows knit together in pure pleasure as he fists his cock with a purpose. His nostrils are flared and whiny moans escape from behind the fabric.

His head falls back every now and then, eyes fluttering shut when he runs his thumb over the slit. He’s so focused that he doesn’t notice you, too entranced with chasing his high. Your lips part as you watch him fuck up into his hand, his shirt slipping from his mouth when he groans out a curse.

Just as quickly as you become distracted by the sight of Yunho jerking off, you become aware of what you’re doing. You flee the scene before you get yourself caught, exiting the farmhouse as quietly as you can. The lightbulb can wait until morning, it wasn’t that important, honestly. You’re in a daze the entire walk back to your grandparents house, goosebumps littering your arms and the image of him in such an obscene state burned into your brain.

You fall backwards onto your bed, staring at the ceiling in hopes of willing away the path your mind is beginning to wander towards. All you can think about is the sight of him so desperate for release, large hand wrapped around his dick, abdomen contracting with need. You know you weren’t supposed to see, weren’t supposed to bear witness to something so personal.

It’s difficult to push out the nasty, inappropriate thoughts clouding your head. His expressions contorted into absolute bliss. His slender fingers could probably do so much more than your own, could probably reach places you’d never even dreamed of. And fuck, his dick, prettier and bigger than any other you’ve ever seen.

Your chest blushes with heat, an embarrassment washing over you when you realize you’re turned on. You should feel terrible for intruding on Yunho’s privacy like that, especially without him knowing, but all you can do is want him more than you already do. That craving for something deeper, carnal, fans the flame engulfing you, dragging you further into the sick and twisted hell you’ve created for yourself.

Yunho has been nothing but welcoming, kind and gentle with you, someone he didn’t even know the name of until last month. Someone who’s done everything in their power to repress this lifestyle for so long. And for some reason, it just comes so easily with him. You don’t feel forced to enjoy living on the farm. He makes you laugh and puts a smile on your face effortlessly. He has you wondering if life can actually be this simple.

But when all is said and done, there will be somebody else waiting for you back home. Somebody who doesn’t know how to whip up omurice with freshly laid eggs. Somebody who isn’t even a dog person, who thinks pets are nuisances. Somebody who doesn’t live in the farmhouse behind your grandparents’. It’s a bitter pill to swallow.

If you touch yourself with tears streaming down your cheeks to the thought of the man who has eyes that resemble the night sky, well that’s between you and whatever higher being exists out there.

You sit across from Yunho with bated breath, afraid that if you opened your mouth he would know your dirty secret. You avoid his eyes for the same reason, like one good look at you would reveal what you were trying to hide.

Yunho himself was doing his best to pretend like he hadn’t masturbated to the thought of you last night. He liked to think he was good at keeping his feelings under wraps. It wasn’t like he didn’t know you were in a relationship, he’s heard you on the phone before. He stays silent as he fries rice in a pan and has some bread in the toaster. The only sounds in the kitchen are sizzling and the pants coming from Yeoreum under your stool.

In the time that you’ve been here, never once has it been awkward between you like this. The conversation usually doesn’t stop flowing, rolling on and on and filtering into things that don’t pertain to the original subject. He rarely has his back to you for too long, turning over his shoulder to shoot you a grin every here and now.

Both of you go to speak at the same time as a means of salvaging the morning from eternal strain. You stare at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. Truly, you were two birds of a feather, or however that saying goes.

”Sorry, I don’t know why I’m being so quiet today,” Yunho says, though he knows it’s a lie. “I guess I had a long night.”

”Oh, that reminds me,” his mention of the previous night has you recalling the reason you went out to the farmhouse in the first place. “The light in my bathroom went out, do you think you can fix it for me?”

“Yeah, for sure,” he begins preparing your plate. “Actually, I have this joke about lightbulbs. You wanna hear it?”

Your lips curl into a smile, already attempting to hold back your laughter. With a raised eyebrow, you respond, “What is it?”

”What did the lightbulb say to the light switch?” He asks nonchalantly, taking a bite from his own piece of toast. You’re failing miserably at acting like you don’t think the joke is funny, although he hasn’t even told you the punchline yet.

”I dunno, Yunho, what did the lightbulb say to the light switch?”

“‘You turn me on.’”

There’s a pregnant pause as the joke resonates and you can’t stop yourself from cackling at how stupid it is. He joins in, but mostly because your laughter is contagious. His chest swells with pride at his successful landing, feeling like he’s on top of the world just for bringing a smile to your face. God, he was down tremendously bad.

Your spoon clatters onto the counter as you lean over, a hand clapped over your mouth as your boisterous laughing simmers into a giggle. Yunho leans into you slightly, matching your energy as he munches on his toast. This is what has you conflicted, so at war with yourself. The proximity should have you pulling away, but something about him always reels you in, despite the consequences that await.

And unfortunately, those consequences come to a head today.

“Are you fucking serious, Y/N?”

You and Yunho jump back, whipping towards the source of the voice. Seojun stands there, his bags at his feet and his face crestfallen, disbelief written all over it. He shakes his head and turns to leave, you stumbling off of the barstool to follow behind him. The guilt you’ve only ever felt momentarily settles deep in your chest and deep in your stomach, though you technically haven’t done anything wrong.

Your abruptness startles Yeoreum and she’s up in a heartbeat, tailing behind you curiously. Yunho has to rush to stop her, but a part of himself wants to do the same. No matter how much he likes you, he’s never wanted to be the cause of your relationship falling apart. He wanted you organically, not like this.

”Seojun! Wait!” You call after him, holding up a hand to block out the harsh sunlight, tripping over your slippers. He scoffs.

“What am I waiting for? You to spew some bullshit about how nothing’s going on between the two of you? I’m not fucking stupid, Y/N. I’m not blind.” He pops open his trunk and throws his bags in haphazardly.

”You’re being unreasonable,” you exclaim, rounding the car so you’re directly in front of him. “There is nothing going on. We’ve just gotten to know each other since we live in the same vicinity. Did you want me to stay here for three months and hole myself away with no other human contact?”

“He was just supposed to be the guy who lived in the farmhouse. He wasn’t supposed to bother you. That’s what you told me, remember?” Seojun is losing his patience, something that has always been the root of the problem when you’ve gotten into past arguments. “How do you expect me to react when I come to surprise you and see you being so close to another man?”

“I was laughing at a joke he told me. You’re making this a bigger deal than it is and blowing everything completely out of proportion. I’m sorry that it never came up that we became friends, but I didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve never once cheated on you in the three years we’ve been together and for you to accuse me of that is so fucking low of you.” You’re not going to cry, not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s won. He thrives off of seeing your vulnerability and you won’t let him have it.

“I saw the way he was looking at you,” he seethes, balling his hands into fists at his sides. “I know that look because that’s how I used to look at you.”

A laugh devoid of any humor leaves you and he blinks. “That’s how you ‘used to’ look at me? When did you stop? And why am I just finding this out?”

”That’s not— that isn’t what I meant, Y/N—“

”No, Seojun. You did,” you glance away from him, nipping at the inside of your cheek. “We’re grasping for straws. We aren’t going anywhere anymore and we haven’t for a while now. That’s why we're standing here arguing over this. I just want to know why you didn’t just tell me.”

”I’m too complacent,” he sighs, breathing through his nose. “I was too comfortable with you and I didn’t know how to let you go or walk away. But you’re right, there isn’t anything for us to save, and it seems like we’re both ready to move on.”

“What does that mean?”

“I saw how you were looking at him, too. You might not have acted on it, but you have feelings for him. I’m not gonna stay and hold you back.” Seojun unlocks his car, opening the door. “And for what it’s worth, you won’t be wasting your time.”

You don’t respond, instead humming and letting him drive off. Once his car is far enough out of your view, you go back into the house. There’s an indescribable emotion that hostages you, binding your wrists and tying you down metaphorically. You can’t seem to shake it.

Yunho is still in the kitchen, sitting on the floor with Yeoreum to keep her calm. He gazes up at you expectantly and you feel the tears you were suppressing from Seojun bubbling up. If you weren’t going to cry in front of your (now ex) boyfriend, you definitely weren’t going to cry in front of him.

With a trembling exhale, you force yourself to say, “I need to be alone.”

He understands empathetically, clipping on Yeoreum’s leash and leaving the house in the same breath. That in itself has you crying like a baby the moment you’re all by yourself. You hold your face in your hands, body shuddering with each sob you release.

I saw the way he was looking at you.

I saw how you were looking at him, too.

You had a lot to think about, and everything always seemed to circle back to Jeong Yunho.

A couple days escape you before you register you haven’t seen much of Yunho. After your breakup with Seojun, you really did need a bit of room to process it all, but you hadn’t realized just how much you depended on the cowboy’s presence until you were missing it.

You hadn’t meant to push him away, if that’s how he saw it. A night of bawling your eyes out with a pint of ice cream and The Vow was enough to cure you. However, it appears that he thought you needed more, going as far as putting a pin in your daily breakfast ritual. You aren’t sure how to extend an olive branch when you weren’t even trying to cause a rift between you in the first place.

Being with someone for three years may not seem like a lot, but that fraction of your life is stuck with you, like a thumbtack that refuses to come out of the wall. You’d had boyfriends before Seojun, but they weren’t nearly as serious. There weren't formal introductions between parents, no late night conversations that bleed into early mornings, no sleepovers and quick kisses before work.

Of course, after a certain point, those had just become habitual. You weren’t doing them because they evoked a sense of love or care anymore, but rather because you were familiar with them. It was safer to continue the pattern of waking up and falling asleep to Seojun on the other side of the bed, the intrusion of sunlight and the cacophony of traffic outside your window, even if you didn’t really want to.

And then you came here.

Somehow, returning to your grandparents’ farm was exactly what you needed to break through that cycle. As much as you would love to attest it to your location and discovering the appreciation your family wanted you to feel for it, you know the real reason. It’s all thanks to a certain cowboy.

Yunho’s feelings for you run far deeper than he could’ve imagined. He doesn’t know the extent of what happened with you and Seojun, but he thinks putting distance between you is better in the long run anyway. On the off chance you’re still together, he wants to preserve his heart. He’s handed it to someone else too easily in the past and he doesn’t want to make that mistake with you if you don’t feel the same.

But even on the off chance that you’ve broken up, he still wants to stop himself from falling further and harder than he already has. Without ill will, he doubts that you would give up the life you have in the city for this, for him. He’ll be perpetually chained to being a faint imprint on your memory of the summer. You’ll think back to the months you spent here and he’ll have played only a minor role.

It was wishful thinking, too hopeful of him to presume this would lead to a happy ending. You were from different worlds, led different lives. It was time for him to be realistic. And that meant implementing the space that was supposed to exist between you from the get go.

Though, you make it difficult when he bumps into you on the way back from the mailbox. Déjà vu, anyone?

Yeoreum is excited to see you, jumping onto her haunches to lick your face when you kneel to her level. You giggle, squeezing one eye shut as you balance yourself and hold her still so her weight doesn’t clamber you both onto the ground. Your fingers pet to top of her head softly as you coo, “Who’s a good girl?”

Yunho physically winces when his chest tightens at the sight of his two favorite girls. The word ‘distance’ bounces around his head like a pinball, reminding him what he’s supposed to be doing. He just can’t bring himself to walk away. Especially when you look at him with those pretty eyes of yours.

“Hey…” You start, steeling your tone to ensure it’s even. “I’m sorry if it seemed like I was avoiding you or something. I needed some time to myself to figure things out. It wasn’t my intention to shut you out and put you on the back burner.”

”No, it’s okay. I had to figure stuff out on my own, too,” he uses his bandana to dab at the sweat perspiring on his forehead. “Did you sort through whatever you needed to?”

“I did,” you nod, standing upright. “Seojun and I broke up, so I had to sit with my feelings for a bit. We’ve been together for so long, I think I needed to remember what it was like to be without him, and then I realized that’s basically what I’ve been doing since I came here.”

”Oh.” Yunho’s lips form an ‘O’ shape, hands dragging down the sides of his pants. “I’m sorry— um— about your breakup.”

”Don’t be,” you smile, dismissing his sympathy. “It was a long time coming, honestly. We weren’t really in the relationship wholeheartedly anymore. There wasn’t a point in stringing it along, you know? But that’s enough about me, did you figure your own things out?”

”I thought I did,” he says, which is true considering he’d been mulling over what to do with his emotions subsequent to your argument with your ex. “And then I kinda steered off course. It’s alright, though, I think I like the new conclusion I’ve come to a lot better.”

You might be on the same page now, but there was an entire discussion that had to happen to solidify that. Following a very emotionally charged past couple days, you could do without that today. You’re both just glad that the air is cleared and you can resume building the bond that began forming the moment you stepped foot onto the farm, no restrictions whatsoever.

“Have you ever ridden a horse?”

You glance up from your book, this time genuinely reading it as Yunho fed the chickens and cleaned up their coop. He towers over you while he asks the question, his shadow thwarting off any direct sunlight. Your nose scrunches.

“When I was in, like, middle school? It’s been a minute,” you answer, making sure to bookmark the page you stopped at. “Why?

”Would you let me teach you how to do it again?” He nips at his lower lip, like he’s nervous you’ll say no. The truth of the matter is you’d say yes even if he asked you to commit arson, which is kind of a problem.

“That sounds fun,” you shrug. “What time should I be ready?”

”Uh, now?”

Okay, so sitting on a horse did not seem this scary when you were twelve.

It probably had to do with you being fearless and whatnot, but also because you did whatever your grandparents asked just to appease them. The faster you got off the damn horse, the faster you could go back inside and situate yourself in front of the TV. They thought they were making progress with you, but really you were outsmarting the outsmarters.

Sweat glazes on the underside of your hands, disrupting the security of your grasp on the reins. Yunho thought it would be wiser if he stayed on foot, guiding you and the horse around the perimeter of the pen. You hoped you didn’t look as afraid as you were, but you’re certain the slight quiver of your bottom lip gives it away.

“You’re doing fine, Y/N,” he reassures, maintaining a comforting amount of eye contact with you.

”Am I? Or does it just seem that way because you’re pulling the horse?” You quip, gripping the reins tighter when it steps over a rock and you sway a little. Your tone is laced with sarcasm, something Yunho hasn’t heard much of from you since you’ve met, but he thinks it’s cute that you resort to violence when you’re scared.

You notice the quirk of his mouth and how he’s trying not to laugh at your terror. It pisses you off solely because his humor isn’t unwarranted. You are being a bit over dramatic. He unties his bandana from around his neck and tosses it to you. “So you don’t callus your hands.”

He’s too thoughtful, too considerate for his own good, but that’s what roped you in. Even when you met for the first time, he had you figured out. The longer you stare at him, the more you realize just how perfect he is. If you were still in school and you were tasked with writing an essay about the summer you spent here, you’re sure the words would flow onto the pages flawlessly, without skipping a beat. Your prose would be so beautifully written, that even the most notable authors would be envious of your experience.

The only downside of this was the fact that time was beginning to seep through your fingers. There was mutuality in your feelings for each other, that was almost unequivocal. You were both just hesitant in taking that first leap. The uncertainty lied with that goodbye at the end of August, the one that’ll hurt a lot more than it was supposed to. But you know that postponing your unceremonious declaration of feelings would just do more harm than anything else.

One consistency you’ve singled out since coming back to the farm is this common theme of divine intervention, or fate, whatever you want to call it. Right when you’re on the brink of an epiphany, you’re always forcefully shoved into it, like a freight train crashing into its platform traveling at full speed. This moment is no different.

Yeoreum barking at a squirrel on the other side of the pen scares the horse who’s back you were currently on. It bucks up and you release the reins in alarm. You fall quickly, but Yunho’s quicker, catching you in his arms like it’s been a childhood dream of his to be a superhero. He searches your face for any indication that you might be hurt, a hand coming up to cup your cheek.

The eyes you’ve grown to adore examine your own with so much care that you find yourself melting in his hold. Your face instinctively leans into his palm, fingers still clutching the fabric of his shirt like he may drop you.

It’s nearly second-nature to minimize the gap between you.

You never understood what novelists meant when they described kissing scenes. And you think that’s because you’d never truly had a kiss like this before. It was as if they were all talking about this second, this blip in time. The sparks that shoot from where your lips meet to the tips of your fingers, the thump-thump-thump of your heartbeat in your ears, the sensation of never wanting to escape, never wanting to stop.

Yunho’s hand snakes behind your head, tangling in your hair to deepen the connection. It’s hungry. It’s desperate. It’s too much. It’s not enough. Everything that had been stacking on top of each other was leading to this, the collision that rivaled the Big Bang. You whine into his lips, an invitation but also an inquiry.

He parts from you just so he can catch his breath, his forehead resting on yours. “Can I take you inside?”

You nod fervently. “Yes. Please.”

He wastes no time hauling you to the farmhouse. His grip on your wrist is gentle as he pulls you into his bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed and trapping you between his legs. Your restraint wears thin, nimble fingers fumbling with the rest of the buttons on his denim shirt. You push it off of his shoulders, a bit shell shocked when you discover that he’s wearing a regular t-shirt as opposed to his usual tank top.

“You would pull something like this today of all days,” you laugh breathily, untucking the shirt from his pants. He reciprocates the sentiment, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck while you undress him.

“Is it evil of me to say I was sorta hoping this would happen?” He speaks into your exposed collarbone, nipping, sucking, biting the skin. Your appreciative sigh goads him, his tongue gliding across the abused surface as a form of relief.

“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head, fast to yank off his shirt and run your nails down his abdomen. “I’ve been waiting for this for too long.”

“Yeah?” Yunho flips the two of you easily so you’re the one on the bed now. He pushes up the hem of your shirt, pecking your stomach to your clavicle as he shows more and more of your skin until the fabric is removed from your body. “Can’t believe I finally get to have you.”

You involuntarily moan, completely untouched and because of his words alone. Every part of you feels like it’s lit ablaze, burning with want and need and everything in between. This ran further than just what-ifs and late night fantasies. Your relationship with Yunho tiptoed on the edge of something you’ve never known before, and that makes this so much more special.

He glances up at you when his fingers reach for the button of your shorts, a silent ask for permission. You give him the green light and hold yourself up on your elbows, watching with your breathing trapped in your throat as he rids of your panties along with them. His hands push your knees to your chest, kissing your inner thighs and right around the place you need him most, but never there.

“Yunho…” You warn, but it comes across as a broken whimper rather than an establishment of authority. He laughs and then his lips are pressing to your clit, a sweet kiss that has all rationality taking a vacation from your brain. Your head tips back and you fist at the sheets.

He drags his tongue through your folds, swirling it around the sensitive bundle of nerves each time it makes its return. It’s almost criminal how good it feels to have his mouth on your cunt, eyes already heavy lidded with pleasure. He sucks on your clit at the same time he decides to insert a finger into your entrance, curling it experimentally just because he can. Like you predicted, it reaches that spongy spot at the crook of your pussy, brushing it once he’s sure he’s found it.

While you walked in on him fucking his fist, the only thing on his mind was you. He was so absorbed in the mental image of what you would look like beneath him, wiggling, writhing, squirming with indulgence. His social awareness was at a zero. This replayed over and over until he came, his thoughts so vivid he could’ve swore it was real.

But this, the actual thing, was so much better; his forearm pinning your hips down, his middle finger curling and uncurling inside of you, his mouth working overtime to inch you towards the edge of that steep cliff. He moans when your eyebrows practically coalesce, bottom lip trapped between your teeth. You look so gorgeous like this, so disoriented all because of the bliss he was providing. The vibrations of the sound have you arching your back, uncontrollable whines running from your mouth.

“Feel good?” Yunho asks, disconnecting his mouth and replacing it with his other hand, ring and middle digits swiping across your clit with practiced pressure.

“Mhm,” you nod frantically, eyes on the brink of rolling to the back of your head. “Feels so good, Yun… Just like that, ‘m almost there.”

That’s all he needs to hear, switching his hand and mouth once again, focusing on alternating harsh and gentle sucks of your clit, adding a second finger to pump in and out of your hole. The doubled change in stimulation knocks the wind out of you, the precipice of your orgasm so close you can taste it. You’d never been brought to the summit this early in the past, and you think Yunho deserves some sort of reward for being the first to do so.

You’d worry about that later though, because you’re blindsided by it before you can even conjure your next thought. You cum with a cry, tears springing to your eyes from the immense amount of ecstasy coursing through your veins, swimming in your bloodstream. Yunho coos at you, not stopping until you’ve relaxed in his hold. “That’s it, baby, you’re doing so well.”

The praise makes your head feel airy, like empty space unoccupied by anything. If you paid attention in chemistry, then you’d know that’s highly impossible, but you didn’t. The only chemistry you even remotely care about is the one between you and Yunho, the tension that has piled higher and higher for days on end until its crescendo now.

You sit up to kiss him roughly, savoring the taste of yourself on his lips. He smiles into it, a hand raising to caress the underside of your jaw. He climbs onto the bed, scooting you up so you’re positioned by the pillows. It doesn’t take much effort for your bodies to swap, his back to the headboard. You clumsily seat yourself on his lap, a knee on either side of him and sighing wistfully when his mouth trails down your throat and sternum, slender fingers sneaking behind you to unclasp your bra.

He aids you in removing his pants, still simultaneously prioritizing kisses all over your bare chest. When you’re both fully naked, you take your time admiring his cock. It’s just as pretty as you remember, long and thick. Your hand wraps around it gingerly, stroking the length as you lean down to kiss him again. You don’t think you could ever get enough of his lips on your own.

“I’m not exactly getting any action over here, so I don’t have any condoms,” he says into your kiss, voice no louder than a whisper.

“That’s okay,” you run your fingers through his hair. “Wanna feel you anyways, all of you.”

”Fuck, Y/N, you can kill a man with those words.” He groans, nails digging into your hips. You giggle, but it’s interrupted by him sitting you fully, his dick slipping through your lower lips. A whine brushes his ear when the tip catches your clit, repeating the movement until you can’t stay still.

The closest you’ll ever get to Heaven on earth is Yunho’s cock pushing inside of you, filling you up so deliciously you think you could die like this. Your jaw slackens, hands coming up to support yourself on his shoulders. Even if this is a one time thing, something that never happens again during your stay at the farm, he wants you to remember this when you go back home. He wants you to recall this sliver in your timeline and never forget it, wants his name engraved in your memory like a branding iron.

Once he feels you’ve adjusted to him well enough, he pulls you off of him almost entirely, just to ram back in without mercy. He punches a voluminous moan from you, eyes watching where he disappears in you and reemerges. You’re tighter and so much warmer than he dreamed you’d be, but it’s perfect. You suck him in like a vacuum, as if his cock was made to be inside of you, as if you didn’t want him to part from you.

“You’re s-so deep, Yun,” you mewl, pulling him in for another headache-inducing kiss. “Don’t wanna stop.”

He exhales through his nostrils, mumbling out a curse when your walls squeeze around him. He wanted to last a while for you, wanted to hold out and prolong this moment until you were both on the crest of passing out. But you feel like a glove, your silk-adjacent cunt begging for more and more.

“Think I might cum soon, princess,” he groans, tossing his head back and just about losing every ounce of his sanity when your lips start marking the column of his throat.

His big hands move under your thighs, holding you in place so he can fuck up into you. The pace at which his cock drills in and out of your pussy has you seeing stars, eyes snapping shut and nothing but colorful spots decorating your vision. You were already abhorrently sensitive following your first orgasm, so it didn’t really take much to introduce the second.

Your hips stutter and it washes over you like a tidal wave, your body shuddering and collapsing into his top half. He pulls out of you quickly, mouth stationed by your ear as he jerks himself off until he’s painting your backside. He moans, a lot like the sounds he was making the other night, and you feel the need to just kiss him again.

Your lips lock sweetly, a stark contrast to your previous actions. Yunho curves a hand on your cheek, seperating from you the smallest distance so he can admire you. The smile that etches onto his expression makes you dizzier than anything else. However, the cutesiness can only span so long before the setting gives way.

Yunho’s hand snakes in between you, his forefinger sliding up and down your slit teasingly. Your breath comes out shaky, your face finding purchase in the crook of his neck. He replaces the digit with his middle finger, parting your pussy lips in search of your clit. It doesn’t take him very long to find it, rubbing tight circles into the engorged skin. You moan into his shoulder, resting your forehead on it to see the way he works your cunt.

“You’re so wet, baby. Have I not fucked you enough?” He whispers into your ear huskily. Yunho talking dirty to you is something you didn’t know you needed in your life. His finger slips downward, thrusting up into your hole with ease. He keeps massaging your clit with his palm, the stimulation making your head woozy.

“Mmmph— Yun, god. Feels too good.” You whine, gyrating your hips on his hand.

“Is that right, babe?” He encourages, adding a second finger and increasing the speed of their thrusts, almost like you hadn’t been in this position already. “I can’t wait to feel this tight little pussy around my cock again. Gonna fuck you harder than the last.”

Your whimpers raise in volume, focusing on the way he curls his digits in you, applying pressure with the heel of his palm to the circles he’s rubbing into your clit. You can sense your third orgasm approaching, warmth flooding your cheeks at how embarrassingly fast he worked you back up. Your walls clench around his fingers, alerting him of how close you are. He pauses, worming his body down so his face is eye level with your cunt again.

Yunho does the whole teasing thing a second time, kissing and suckling the hot skin of your belly, knowingly denying you of your release. You grab a handful of his hair, tugging at the ends to spur him on. He groans, giving into you and licking a straight line up your slit. He inserts both fingers again, this time using his tongue to manipulate your swollen clit.

The heat of Yunho’s mouth makes your insides ache, the necessity to cum intensifying. You keen loudly, desperately, needily, the sight of the brunette between your legs so incredibly arousing. He sucks on your throbbing clit, his long fingers as deep as they can go, and you crumble.

“Oh my god— oh my god— I’m cumming! I’m—” You cut yourself off, convulsing under him. He laps up as much of your juices as he can, coating his chin with your release. You moan as you pull him towards you to unify your lips, a mixture of your saliva and cum connect your mouths in strings. At this point, the sex is messier than anything you could’ve plucked from your wildest dreams.

One hand trails down your body, using your nimble fingers to play with your sensitive clit when he starts fisting his cock in preparation to enter your pussy again. You use your free hand to scratch at his contracting abs. He hisses, propping himself up with one arm next to your head and his eyes trained on the way you finger yourself at the same time. You can feel his breath on your cheeks and being in this proximity to him fuels your yearning.

“Please, Yun… Need you back inside of me,” you whimper. Rubbing your clit with your own fingers isn’t satisfying enough, not with him here in front of you, not when you know how good he can make you feel.

“Fuck, baby, when you beg like that I don’t know if I can hold back.” He chuckles lowly. It rumbles from his chest, shooting to your core.

“So don’t,” you rouse. “This is more than just a one time thing for me, Yunho.”

His eyes widen just a bit, your confession catching him off guard. That’s all he needs to line himself up with your hole, hooking his forearm under your knee as he slides in, stretching your cunt so perfectly with his perfect cock. “Shit— you’re so tight, princess… It’s almost like I didn’t just fuck you within an inch of your life.” He moans and spreads your legs wider. He bottoms out with a grunt, throwing his head back from the feeling of your velvety walls. A near deafening cry is ripped from your vocal cords. He nips at your neck, starting to piston his hips.

His thrusts don’t slow but become calculated, speeding up and diving deep simultaneously. It only took a short amount of time to figure out what you liked and he used it to his advantage. Yunho hikes your knee to your chest, groping your tits with his free hand. He twists and tugs at your nipples just hard enough that it contributes to your pleasure rather than hurts you.

It’s as if he doesn’t feel buried inside of you sufficiently, because he decreases his pace to press and fold your other leg up, his hips ramming into your ass with each thrust now. The tip of his cock kisses at what feels like your cervix. That familiar coil begins to fasten again, keening with every drive into your cunt. The squelching noises would’ve made you cower in shame with anyone else, but with Yunho it turns you on further.

You moan, and he flattens his hand on the lower part of your stomach. Yunho groans, biting the skin where your shoulder meets your neck. Your fingers find your clit again, circling insatiably to get yourself off.

“You gonna cum for me again?” He rasps, his hold on your legs almost painful. The backs of your thighs burn, but you endure it for the sake of the moment. You reach up and behind yourself, grabbing at the headboard in an attempt to match his force.

“Oh my god, yes— yes yes yes yes,” you babble, the syllables blurring together like your mind. “Gonna cum so hard for you, Yunho. Keep going, please.”

His lips attach to yours, tongues tangling sloppily. The position you’re in is on the opposite end of the spectrum from how you were expecting this summer reunion to go. Had you not been made aware of Yunho living here at the last minute, you probably would’ve backed out of your commitment to staying. Deep down you’re a little too thankful that your grandmother mentioned him when it was too late to reconsider.

“I think I’m in love with you, Y/N,” Yunho whispers into your mouth.

You let go of the headboard, cupping his jaw and kissing him lovingly. “Me too.”

Your fingers speed up and so do his thrusts, perfectly timed with each other to shove you both towards your highs. You’re on the cusp of falling apart, arching into him to close the gap between your bodies.

“Wanna cum inside you. Can I?” Yunho grunts.

“Yes yes, please. Fill me up, Yun, want all of you.”

He continues to abuse your cunt, pounding into you like his life depended on it. You sob, clamping your walls around him. He freezes, suddenly spilling into you. “Come on, baby, cum on my cock.” The warmth of his release and his words coax your orgasm, the fluttering of your cunt milking every single drop from him that it can. Even with his dick plugging you up, you can feel it dripping out of you and onto the sheets below.

He rocks into you languidly until you’ve calmed down enough for him to pull out. His forehead is flush on your chest, rising and falling with it, both of you so spent from the intense physical activity you engaged in. You stare up at the ceiling with heavy eyelids, carding your fingers through his hair to soothe him.

“You meant what you said right? About this not being a one time thing.” Yunho says hesitantly, like he’s afraid of permeating the atmosphere you created.

“I don’t think I can go home at the end of the summer and forget the way I feel for you, Yunho.” You admit out loud. There had been a constant struggle in your head over whether or not to follow your heart, but as he looks at you with those sparkly eyes of his, you know your answer. And you feel a little stupid for ever considering the counter.

“And what exactly are those feelings?” He pushes, folding his hands on your sternum and laying his cheek on top. You giggle, brushing his hair out of his view. As tempting as it was to divulge your theatrical journey in assessing your emotions, you’re too exhausted to stay awake. It would have to wait for another day.

“You have the rest of the summer to find out, cowboy.”

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez jeong yunho #ateez yunho #ateez yunho x reader #ateez yunho smut #jeong yunho x reader #jeong yunho smut #yunho x reader #yunho smut #yunhoszn

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gimmethatagustd · 1 year

Text

wanna watch a sex tape | kth (ft. pjm)

When Taehyung invited you over to watch a movie, you didn’t think the movie he had in mind would be your sex tape… And you definitely didn’t think his roommate would want to watch, too.

↳ pairing: taehyung x reader x jimin

↳ wc/date: 6.9k | August 2023

↳ warnings: no pronouns/gendered language for oc except "pussy", namjoon has mono and it's not the album (hahahaaa), homemade pornography, Big Dick Tae, exhibitionism, humiliation kink (but it's like... unintentional? tae isn't mean or anything), handjob, blowjob, deepthroating, facefucking, crying, anal and vaginal fingering, unprotected anal and vaginal sex, double penetration, creampie, subspace, sub!reader, soft!dom tae, switch!jimin ig, an insane amount of lube like way too much, they're all arguing with each other the entire time, tae tries to deepthroat a camcorder

↳ notes: lol yeahhh soooo... idk what's up with me and threesomes lately, but, uhhh, i'm too embarrassed to proofread this so i'll do it later hkjds

↳ masterlist / taglist

↳ what was jai listening to? up! - lil vada & donnysolo

The Wannabe-Photographer Chronicles (mini-series) Masterlist

“It’s just a movie,” he’d said. “What’s wrong with two friends watching a movie? It’s Netflix and chill in the most literal way, I promise,” he’d insisted.

So why does Taehyung have pulled up what appears to be a video editing software instead of Netflix?

You sit with your back against Taehyung’s headboard and your legs tucked beneath you while you watch him place his laptop on the bed in front of you. The moment he presses play, you feel all the blood drain from your body.

“Kim Taehyung, turn that the fuck off!” you screech. You lunge forward to slap the space bar, effectively pausing the video. “Why? Why why why why why?”

“You said I could pick the movie,” Taehyung says with a slight pout.

“This is not a fucking movie!”

There on the screen, with a fucking sepia filter, is a still of Taehyung’s fingers lodged deep between your thighs. The tendons and veins in his wrist and forearm pop to the surface from the thrusting motion. In the second it took to pause the video, you’d heard your own breathy moans blare from the laptop’s speakers.

This is probably the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you in your entire life. Probably in anyone’s life! You’re living a nightmare.

“You’re right, it’s not a movie,” Taehyung sighs. He leans back on his palms and lets his head loll to the side as he stares at you blankly, almost as if he’s bored. It’s enraging how hot he looks. “It’s just raw footage. I have a lot of edits to make before I could call it a movie. For starters, I already hate the filter.”

Ears and cheeks aflame with invisible heat, you dig your fingers into the bed’s fluffy comforter to prevent yourself from clawing Taehyung’s eyes out. He’s genuinely insufferable and has been for as long as you’ve known him.

You don’t know how you keep finding yourself in these unfortunate situations with Taehyung. The first time, he provoked you. How could you have reasonably walked away from him at Hoseok’s party when it was in your own fucking apartment? After he fucked your pussy and took a photo when you came? What were you supposed to have done?! You’d already tried kicking him out. The little shit just wiggled his way under your skin and made you itch.

The whole striptease thing hadn’t been your fault, either. Hoseok had a whole conversation with you about not “scaring away” his friends as if it’s somehow on you that his friends are all annoying. But you love Hoseok, no matter how difficult he makes your life sometimes, and you told yourself that you would do better to be nice. Helping Taehyung with his college photography assignment seemed like a nice way to hold out an olive branch to the asshole. How could you have known that it would end with, with, with a sex tape?

Because that’s what this is on Taehyung’s laptop. A fucking sex tape.

You made a sex tape with Kim fucking Taehyung, the most infuriating man on the planet, and now you’re sitting on his bed while he explains his editing software like this is the most normal thing you could be doing on a Friday night.

“Are you even listening?” Taehyung narrows his eyes at you. His fingers hover over the trackpad, posed to click on the video’s play button.

You swat his hand away, and he yelps.

“Stop it right now,” you snap. “We are not watching this.”

You’re so embarrassed that your entire body is on fire. The skin at the nape of your neck prickles, and your stomach swoops so severely that you’re afraid you might pass out from how difficult it is to inhale. It doesn’t help that Taehyung’s previous look of irritation has morphed into something slimy and smug.

Of course, the universe is never on your side. Assuming Taehyung will let this go is nothing more than a pipe dream.

“You’re that upset about it?” Taehyung isn’t sincere when he asks.

Using the arrow keys, he fast-forwards through the video. Despite your embarrassment, you can’t take your eyes off the frames as they quickly flash across the screen. Taehyung lingers momentarily on a part of the video that makes the heat in your face travel south.

Most people look better in real life than in photos, but Taehyung is flawless no matter the circumstance. His sharp, dark eyes stare back at you through the screen. From the angle his head is tilted, his eyes have a narrowed, almost sleepy appearance as he looks through his eyelashes at the camera. You can only see the top half of his face because the lower half is buried between your thighs.

You straighten your posture and clasp your hands in your lap. Forcing yourself to look away from the laptop is hard, and you hate yourself for being so affected by the image of Taehyung eating you out. It was a fluke. A mistake. Something fueled by lust and some weird desire for you to prove that… what? You could fuck him, and it mean nothing?

“This is the best part.”

You don’t want to look again, but you do. It isn’t Taehyung’s comment that draws you toward the laptop once more, but another voice. Your own.

“I liked you better when you were crying and begging for me like a good boy.”

In the moment, you thought you’d been snappy and clever when you said that line – meant to be an insult more than anything. Listening to it now, you’re ashamed to hear something far more… suggestive to your tone. Had it really been like that? Or are you overanalyzing now?

“I can still be a good boy for you like this…”

Taehyung’s rough, fucked-out voice makes your entire body tense. It was fucking hot when he said it then, and hearing it again only confirms that, yes, it was fucking hot.

The sound of skin slapping against skin and broken moans flood the room. Watching yourself on video is surreal, a version of you that you wouldn’t otherwise ever know. Most people live their entire lives without knowing what they look like when they’re having sex – not like this. And here you are, watching a version of you fuck yourself on Taehyung’s cock in the very bed you sit on right now.

“Honestly, I’m offended that you don’t even appreciate how well I edited these shots. They all flow so seamlessly; didn’t you notice?”

For some reason, the pout Taehyung wears tugs at your heart in a way you wish it wouldn’t. He just looks so genuine.

“Taehyung,” you speak sternly, hoping you can set the tone for a more serious conversation. Even though your face isn’t in the video, you’re still a little nervous about what Taehyung will do with it.

Another part of you is very turned on because the video is still playing, and even though you’re looking at Taehyung, you can see the movement out of the corner of your eye. It only gets worse when Taehyung’s moans grow louder.

“Yeah?”

Taehyung’s lips part slightly. You watch him run his tongue against the inside of his cheek with your heart hammering in your chest and heat pooling between your legs. Taehyung exhales in real life, the sound soft and shaky, at the exact moment he cums in the video.

Whatever you were about to say evaporates from your mind like mist in the wind because he sounds so pretty.

Fucking hell.

“What?” Taehyung tries again to get an answer from you, but you can’t speak.

By now, you’re thoroughly wet, to the point that your thighs feel damp from being pressed together. Your underwear is uncomfortable when you shift, and you wish you’d worn more than a pair of baggy basketball shorts. They go well with your cute cropped hoodie and the Nikes you left at Taehyung’s front door. At least they’re black, so there’s no chance your arousal will be seen through your clothes.

The last thing you need is for Taehyung to know you’re turned on.

“Nothing,” you finally respond, tearing your gaze from his face.

The new view is worse, though. You immediately look down and see the last frame of the video. Taehyung’s cock rests on your bare ass, cum splattered on your cheeks and lower back, his cock shiny and slick. You breathe in sharply and seal your fate because Taehyung immediately pounces on that tiny detail.

“I know you liked it,” Taehyung goads, his pout morphing into the classic grin you’ve grown to both hate and love.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Don’t lie.”

You twist around to face him fully. “Listen here, you little piece of–”

It’s like deja vu, really, how your eyes fall to look at the bulge in Taehyung’s pants. This time, he’s wearing light grey sweatpants that are a little tight in the crotch, showing a clear outline of his cock resting along his thigh. The fabric at the head of his cock is darker than the rest, a wet spot that has your body throbbing with desire.

Perhaps from the attention, Taehyung’s cock kicks up, twitching in the confines of his sweats. He lets out a quiet, breathy laugh.

“I’m listening.”

Taehyung reaches over to squeeze your knee when you still don't speak. Slowly, he glides his hand up your thigh. Once he reaches the hem of your shorts, he lifts his gaze from where his hand is hot on your skin to your face. His eyes lock with yours as he slips his hand into the leg of your shorts and continues following the inside of your thigh.

Despite Taehyung’s body heat, you shiver from his touch as he travels higher and higher. It tickles, but you bite your lip and force yourself to stay still. The only part of you that moves is your chest as you rapidly take shallow breaths. It does nothing to calm you down; if anything, it worsens everything. You’re working yourself up to the point that you’re gushing in your underwear.

Taehyung’s fingers trace along the elastic, and you know he can feel how soaked you are. His gaze weighs heavy on you, eyes dark and lidded. He presses his fingers against your underwear and drags them along your lips, lightly increasing his pressure to massage your clit.

“Oh,” you let out with a gasp, digging your fingers into the comforter. You automatically open your legs further, allowing Taehyung better access. He continues rubbing your clit through your underwear, his movements too slow and light for your liking. “Taehyung…”

“Hm?” He’s so fucking smug you want to slap him, but you also don’t want him to stop.

“Just, fucking, just–”

Your desperate request for him to just fucking finger you already is cut off by Taehyung’s bedroom door flying open. With an embarrassing scream, you practically leap off Taehyung’s bed.

“Taehyungieeee! I was supposed to hang out with Namjoon hyung, but he canceled because he got fucking mono. Can you believe? Who gets mono at almost thirty years old? Seriously! I asked him who he’s been making out with, but he–”

The dark-haired man stops midsentence with his jaw hanging off its hinges. Wide, unsuspecting eyes flit from your look of horror to the outline of Taehyung’s dick in his pants to Taehyung’s hand now resting on your knee. But what’s somehow the most embarrassing thing is that the man’s eyes eventually land on Taehyung’s laptop, where his dick and your ass are still on display.

“Oh wow.”

Taehyung lets out a long groan and lets his head roll backward.

“This is exactly why I tell you to knock before you come in here.”

“W-what!” The man sputters. “This is my fault?”

After a moment of staring at the ceiling, Taehyung levels his gaze to stare at the man. “Did you knock?”

The man looks pained when forced to say, “No…”

You would rather die than be here right now. You watch the two men begin bickering about proper roommate etiquette because this is apparently Taehyung’s roommate, Jimin, who you didn’t know even existed. A convenient thing to leave out, right? Of course, Taehyung wouldn’t fucking tell you that there’s the possibility that someone might be in the apartment with you.

“Well, what are you watching?” Jimin walks toward the bed to get a better look at Taehyung’s laptop. “Fuck, that guy’s cock is huge. What’s this on?”

“Oh my god, Taehyung, make it go away!” You finally hiss, slapping Taehyung in the arm to make him do something.

Taehyung throws his head back in a fit of laughter, which makes you slap him even harder.

“That’s me.”

Jimin nearly chokes. “Excuse me?”

The look on Taehyung’s face is a mix of pride and mischief. He’s absolutely glowing, absorbing all the praise, even if it’s accidentally given.

“That is my cock. And the ass…” Taehyung jabs his thumb in your direction, much to your displeasure.

“Oh,” Jimin exclaims. “Your ass looks great.”

“For fuck’s sake, I need to get out of here.”

“No!” Taehyung reaches for your arm to keep you from getting up. “We haven’t even fully watched it yet.”

You narrow your eyes and gesture in Jimin’s direction. Even if you wanted to watch the sex tape – which you definitely don’t – you can’t watch it with Taehyung’s roommate hovering over you like this. You don’t even understand why the guy is still here or how he and Taehyung can converse normally while Taehyung’s got a literal erection.

Boys are so fucking weird.

“Can I watch, too?”

Your eyes nearly bug out of your head. There’s no way, no fucking way. And yet Taehyung’s already nodding and scooting over for Jimin to sit on the other side of him.

“I worked so hard on this, and it’s going unappreciated.” Taehyung glares at you.

Before you can react, Taehyung has restarted the video. His hand migrates from your arm back down to your knee and squeezes lightly, maybe in an attempt to be comforting, but you’re already beginning to die inside from embarrassment.

It doesn’t help that Jimin is gorgeous. You find yourself admiring him as he watches the video, which Taehyung has now turned on with full volume. Jimin’s eyes are glued to the screen. Occasionally, he makes little comments to praise Taehyung’s editing skills or point out how you and Taehyung have “great chemistry.” But the most intriguing part is when Jimin begins to squirm.

It’s still early in the video, just after Taehyung starts eating you out, when you notice Jimin’s hand move to rest in his lap. It isn’t subtle how he adjusts his erection in his jeans, but he doesn’t know that you’re staring at him.

There’s something about knowing that this complete stranger is now hard because of watching your porn that rekindles the arousal buzzing inside you. It doesn’t help that Jimin and Taehyung are right; the video is hot. It’s ridiculously hot.

Distracted, you don’t realize Taehyung’s attention is no longer on the video like Jimin’s is. Instead, he’s got his eyes on where his hand disappears into your shorts again. This time, he wiggles his fingers inside your underwear.

The first press of his fingertips against your clit makes you moan, high-pitched and desperate. You immediately slap your hand over your mouth, and Taehyung chuckles.

“Y’know, I was thinking…” Taehyung begins, noticing that Jimin’s now watching his fingers move in your shorts. “We should make another video.”

“You should,” Jimin agrees immediately with a nod. It’s eager, without shame, and that alone makes your pussy throb for some reason.

Are you into exhibitionism? Is that what this is? What the fuck is going on?

“No way,” you try to protest, but another moan comes from deep in your chest when Taehyung slips his middle finger inside you.

“I could film it,” Jimin offers, as though finding a director is the issue. His chest rises rapidly as his pretty eyes roam your body.

Just as before, you let your legs spread. By now, Taehyung isn’t trying to hide what he’s doing. He openly fingers you with his roommate sitting right there, watching. You lean back on your palms and let your head fall back when Taehyung squeezes your thigh with his other hand to hold you open.

“Yeah, Chim, you film it,” Taehyung agrees. “Baby? Wanna do it now?” He slips a second finger inside you, and you think it’s unfair that he’s asking you this while fingers you because you’d probably do anything to get him to fuck you right now, whether you want to admit it or not.

“Fuck you,” you hiss. “Fine.”

With a grin, Taehyung removes his fingers from you. You want to complain, but he and Jimin are off the bed by the time you sit up again. You sit there, dumbfounded, as Taehyung heads to his closet. Jimin trails behind him, nodding at the instructions Taehyung gives him.

The two return to the bed once they each have a camcorder. They’re smaller than the one Taehyung used before, sleeker, and more colorful compared to the all-black, more heavy-duty one from before.

Taehyung sets his camera on the bed next to you while Jimin fiddles with his from where he stands at the edge of the bed.

“Take your clothes off, baby.”

You bite your lip at the term of endearment you’ve always told Taehyung not to call you, that he calls you anyway. This time, there’s something different about it. You watch him shred his clothes, tossing his t-shirt to the floor and then dropping his sweatpants. As you expected, he isn’t wearing underwear. The sight of his cock, so big and hard that it hangs heavy between his legs, makes you finally start moving.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you throw out just because you have to stay in character unless you want Taehyung to think you’re in love with him or something.

But he grins like an idiot and kneels on the bed while he waits for you to strip. You thought it would be weird getting naked in front of a stranger, but excitement thrums through you as you think about Jimin’s eyes on you, filming you, while Taehyung fucks you.

“Should we do introductions like they do in those casting videos?” Taehyung grins up at Jimin.

The poor guy’s face is bright pink, and his forehead glistens with sweat. Nothing has even happened yet, but he’s completely hard and looks like he’s about to have a heart attack. His hands shake worse than yours had when Taheyung ate you out in the video.

“Chim.”

Jimin swallows but doesn’t speak.

“Jimin,” Taehyung tries again. It seems like Taehyung has a knack for leaving people speechless. He moves to the edge of the bed, still on his knees, and leans forward slightly. Jimin must be too nervous to move because he stands completely still as Taehyung opens his mouth.

You watch with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal as Taehyung takes the flip screen of the camcorder into his mouth. All the while, he keeps his eyes locked on Jimin’s.

It’s so fucking hot you have to look away.

Finally, something snaps. Jimin jerks backward, pulling the camera out of Taehyung’s mouth.

“Tae!” He exclaims in disbelief, quickly using his sleeve to clean the screen. “What is wrong with you?”

“If you wanna join us so bad, hurry up and take your clothes off.”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to. Your dick spoke for you.”

Jimin takes his eyes off Taehyung to look at you. It’s an unspoken request you find yourself granting by nodding your head without even thinking. How could you deny a man that looks like that? Whatever happens, happens. But you know that you want them both if you can have them. The thought just never crossed your mind before.

It seems that Taehyung has helped you learn a lot about yourself, like how you apparently get off on being embarrassed.

“I don’t want to fuck you,” Jimin announces to Taehyung. He tries to look serious, but it’s hard not to laugh when his dick bobs from how quickly he tugged his jeans off his body.

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “I don’t want to fuck you either; shut up.”

You thought it would be awkward having Taehyung and Jimin in bed with you, and it is, sort of. Uncharted territory is scary, no matter what it is. It must be evident that you’re feeling this way because Taehyung reaches for you. He pulls you close by the back of the head, and you think the kiss will be rough and charged. Instead, it’s soft. He moves his lips with yours in a gentle rhythm, something meant to be grounding and comforting. His other hand cradles the side of your face, and his thumb caresses your cheek.

“You guys are so cute.” Jimin’s comment makes you pull back from Taehyung.

“No, we’re not.”

“Thank you.”

You scowl at Taehyung, but he’s still wearing that grin that’s getting harder to hate. It slowly fades into something darker once Taehyung finally looks at your body, eyes lingering on how shiny and wet your thighs are from him fucking you with his fingers.

Taehyung bites his lip, reaching for the camcorder on the bed beside you.

“Let me record Jimin fucking your face, baby.”

You and Jimin gasp simultaneously, immediately turning your heads to look at each other. Even though it’s clear that Jimin was invited into this to have sex with you, too, for some reason, you thought Taehyung would be greedier. You thought he wouldn’t want to share, didn’t expect that he’d be the one calling the shots.

Then again, it isn’t that surprising. Hasn’t Taehyung always called the shots? Sure, you let him, but he was good at it. A director. He’s in his element, you realize.

You quickly realize, once Jimin’s cock is down your throat, that Jimin is the greedy one. He kneels directly in front of where you sit on the bed and digs his fingers into the back of your head to hold you still as he fucks your throat.

“You’re doing such a good job, baby,” Taehyung murmurs. He kneels next to you, recording all the sloppy sounds and visuals of you messily gagging on Jimin’s cock while you jerk Taehyung off.

Tears spill from your eyes as Jimin’s cock hits the back of your throat. You do your best to keep pumping Taehyung’s cock, but your rhythm falters.

“Fuck, yes, swallow. Like that.”

Jimin’s moans are different than Taehyung’s. While Taehyung’s moans are soft and deep, Jimin’s are high-pitched and erratic, coming in stunted waves rather than smooth like Taehyung’s. They sound pretty together, even if they’re so different.

You can tell Jimin won’t last as long as Taehyung, though. He has to pull away from you very quickly, which is fine because you gasp for air, leaning forward slightly to catch your breath.

“Don’t go so fucking hard,” Taehyung snaps once he sees your reaction.

“Wha–” Jimin’s eyes grow wide.

“I’m fine.” Your voice is hoarse, but you’re genuinely okay. You pat Taehyung on the thigh to reassure him because, well, it’s kind of cute that he cared enough to chastise his friend like that.

Taehyung reaches down to wipe the tears from your cheeks with a stern look that feels strange coming from him. “Let’s take care of you, okay, baby?”

It’s soft, the way he talks to you. It isn’t for the cameras.

“I wanna go first. You got your chance before,” Jimin whines.

“Why don’t you ask me then?”

Jimin crosses his arms against his chest. “May I fuck you first?”

“Sure,” you say with a shrug.

Taehyung rolls his eyes, but despite the annoyed look on his face, he flops backward onto the bed. The motion causes his cock to slap against his hip, and he groans, slightly rolling on his side.

“See, stop being such a drama queen,” Jimin chides.

You let out a rather unattractive snort that makes Jimin grin.

“I like him.”

“Shut up.”

For once, Taehyung doesn’t have a witty comeback or a stupid smirk to flash your way. Instead, his face twists into something unpleasant. The expression quickly dissolves, and you almost feel like you’ve imagined it.

Taehyung leans back on his elbows and looks down at where you settle between his legs. Even when Jimin moves to kneel behind you, Taehyung’s eyes never leave yours except to check the flipped screen of his camcorder.

“Wait, use this.” Taehyung sits up, and his cock is suddenly very close to your face. He reaches over to open his nightstand drawer, nearly ripping the entire thing out. “A lot of it.”

Something passes between Taehyung and Jimin’s hands. You only glimpse it, but between what you see and the sound of a cap popping open, you know it’s a half-empty bottle of lube that Jimin is now squeezing all over your ass.

“What the hell,” you hiss as the cool liquid drips down your thighs. “Might as well dump the whole fucking thing on me, shit.”

You refuse to admit that it feels nice having Jimin massage the lube into your skin. It heats up quickly, and his hand easily glides across your muscles. You feel yourself sink forward, lifting your lower half to give Jimin more access. In the midst of how good Jimin’s hand feels, something cold and hard presses against your lower back.

“If you ruin my camera, Jimin–”

“That’s hyung to you.”

“No fucking way.”

Their banter would be cute if you didn’t have your ass in the air and Taehyung’s dick mere inches from your face. And maybe if you didn’t fucking hate Taehyung and weren’t wary of Jimin at best.

“Are we gonna do something, or…?”

Taehyung fluffs a pillow behind his head to keep him propped up so he’ll have a better shot for filming.

“Yeah, put it in your mouth.”

You roll your eyes because there Taehyung goes, bossing you around again, but something deep inside whispers that you fucking like it. Not that you would say it out loud. You can’t help how your pussy gushes over him, though. It’s a betrayal, honestly.

“Say, please.”

Taehyung sticks his tongue out at you. “No.”

You don’t have a chance to bitch him out because Jimin chooses that moment to slowly inch his cock inside of you.

“Oh my god,” you moan with your lips brushing against the base of Taehyung’s cock. You rock back gently, helping Jimin ease into you.

“So tight,” Jimin says once his hips are flat against your thighs and his cock is fully buried inside you.

“Right?” Taehyung murmurs. “You always feel so good.”

It’s a bit difficult to bob your head along Taehyung’s cock when Jimin’s fucking into you like his life depends on it. The rhythm is all off, but Taehyung doesn’t seem to mind. He’s watching you with fucking stars in his eyes, hyperfocused on where your lips suckle the head of his cock. When you take more of him into your mouth, he switches the camcorder to his right hand and reaches out to you with his left.

Taehyung runs his thumb along your upper lip, shallowly dipping into the corner of your mouth to feel how little space there is with your mouth full of his cock.

“Don’t run away; you gotta take it,” Jimin grunts, squeezing your waist and pulling you back hard onto his cock.

You want to snap at Jimin that it’s not your fault you keep getting lurched forward, but Taehyung’s letting out cute little whimpers from you rubbing your tongue against his slit, and you don’t want to do anything to make him stop.

When you finally pull off Taehyung to breathe, a string of spit connects your lips to his shiny cock.

“Can I fuck you in the ass, baby?” Taehyung practically hums the question, his voice already fucked out, deep and hoarse. “I think we need to diversify our portfolio.”

At the question, Jimin slows down his thrusts until they’re shallow and don’t jostle you too severely.

You’re nodding before your brain can catch up to how your body reacts to Taehyung’s request.

“Jimin?”

“On it, boss.”

You mean to groan in annoyance at how fucking corny they are – as if they’re actually trying to make this into a bad porno – but a moan comes out instead as Jimin slowly presses a generously lubed finger against your rim.

“Have you done this before?” Jimin asks, working you open with one finger before moving on to a second.

“Y-yeah,” you whimper, the sensation of Jimin’s cock still moving inside you while his fingers are in your ass enough to make you lose your mind. Even if you hadn’t fingered yourself before, the amount of lube Jimin poured all over your ass removes nearly all the friction and tension.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” Taehyung groans in an almost frustrated tone. He reaches down to pump his cock since you’re virtually useless with Jimin’s fingers and cock moving inside of you simultaneously.

“Oh my god, Jimin.” You bury your face in the inside of Taehyung’s thigh, biting down just to ground yourself.

“Shit, that hurts,” Taehyung hisses, but he doesn’t tell you to stop.

Once Jimin has four fingers inside of you, he leans forward to get closer to ask you if you’re ready.

“Do you want us at the same time?”

Something that almost sounds pained comes from Taehyung, a broken whimper you’ve never heard from him before. He squeezes his eyes shut and nods his head even though the question isn’t for him.

“Please, fuck, Y/N, please say yes.”

You can’t even appreciate hearing Taehyung beg because you’re desperate for this, too.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s just, let’s go.” You get up, nearly slipping from all the lube that has dripped down onto your body and Taehyung’s.

“I don’t understand how Taehyung ended up not doing any of the work,” Jimin grumbles as he helps you turn around.

You’re hardly paying attention to the men’s bickering. They can do whatever weird bromance thing they’re doing, but you’re trying to get doubly dicked down. Cameras or not.

You sit on Taehyung’s abdomen with your legs on either side of his thighs and face Jimin. Taehyung’s large hands squeeze your waist to lift you up while Jimin grabs Taehyung’s cock to guide the head to your rim.

“I can’t believe I have to touch your dick,” Jimin adds to his list of grievances that you’re sure Taehyung will never hear the end of.

Taehyung just laughs, causing your body to jiggle in his tight grip.

“Don’t act like you don’t love it.”

Jimin grimaces. “I really don’t.”

It’s surprising that the two have never done this before when it feels so natural for the three of you to fall into place like this.

Eventually, Jimin lets go of Taehyung’s cock once the tip pushes inside you. Taehyung feels much bigger than you remember, and Jimin’s fingers certainly don’t compare. Luckily, Taehyung is gentle as he pushes past the ring of muscles. Thank god for the ridiculous amount of lube. It allows you to sink down on Taehyung’s cock with only mild discomfort at first.

“Relax, baby,” Taehyung murmurs. His hands slide up to squeeze your tits, rubbing and pinching your nipples as you eventually slide fully onto his cock.

“O-o-okay,” you stutter as Jimin kneels between you and Taehyung’s legs.

Jimin’s slow as he eases his cock into your pussy, mindful of the pressure you will feel with both cocks inside you. He pauses when he’s halfway in to squeeze even more lube onto his cock, making sure there’s enough to drip down to Taehyung’s, too.

“What are we filming, a fucking lube ad? What is this?”

“Shh, baby, you’re gonna ruin the audio,” Taehyung scolds from behind you.

Biting your lip, you watch Jimin’s face as he concentrates on sliding into you. He’s pretty, sweet even, but… he’s not Taehyung.

“Wait.”

Jimin’s bright eyes flit up to meet yours. Concern twists his features, making his eyebrows scrunch together. “Are you okay?”

“What’s wrong? Does it hurt? Did we not prep you enough?” Taehyung tries to sit up, but Jimin slaps his thigh.

“Stop moving!”

“I just wanna know what’s going on!”

Taehyung rubs comforting circles into your sides, sliding his thumbs down to trace your hip bones before running his palms back across your ribs.

You shake your head and try not to think about what you’re going to say.

“I… I want to,” your face heats up, and you internally scold yourself for feeling the way you do. “I want Tae.”

Your words are rushed, but Jimin seems to understand – perhaps even more than what you’ve let on because he gives you a small smile and eases out of you without any questions.

“What?” Taehyung peers from around your body.

“No assfucking for you, buddy. Better luck next time.”

“Jimin!” It’s your turn to haul a slap, this one hard against Jimin’s arm. “I’m a person.”

At least Jimin has enough sense to appear bashful. Grabbing your arms, he helps you lift off of Taehyung. He guides you so you’ve got your knees on either side of Taehyung’s hips.

When you straddle Taehyung, you press your palms to his chest and dig your fingers into his firm pecs. He’s gorgeous like this, skin smooth and tan. A few moles scatter his torso, like little flecks of chocolate that you suddenly realize you’ve missed out on having the chance to lick up. His cheeks are dusted a light pink, and his sweaty bangs are brushed away from his forehead.

He’s gorgeous all the time, but especially like this.

“See something you like?”

You dig your nails into his skin, and Taehyung winces, but he maintains that stupid fucking sparkle of mischief in his eyes.

“Shut up. Maybe.”

Taehyung’s grin widens. It’s bright and lopsided, makes him look like an idiot, honestly, and your stomach swoops because, fuck, you’re so fucked.

“Are you two lovebirds ready or what? My dick is starting to hurt.”

Taehyung apparently thinks slapping your ass is the best way to respond to Jimin’s question.

Reaching between your bodies, you guide Taehyung’s cock inside your pussy. The unholy amount of lube makes it easy for him to slip in, which is good because you need to focus on relaxing your body once you feel Jimin’s cock press against your rim.

You’ve never had two dicks at once – god, it sounds insane when you think about it, even though you know plenty of people who have explored this side of their sexual fantasies. It just isn’t something you’d do, mainly because you’ve always been insecure and a little shy. The hardass exterior is a great wall you’ve built to hide from getting your heart broken, but of course, Taehyung has managed to fuck with all your plans.

It’s a strange sensation once Jimin fully bottoms out. The three of you freeze, allowing your body to adjust.

After a while, Taehyung grabs your ass, holding you open as he and Jimin slowly begin to rock into you. As it was when you were sucking Taehyung off, it’s a bit difficult to find the right rhythm at first. Taehyung and Jimin bicker back and forth about who should thrust first and who should pull back. Taehyung jostles you in his lap a few times, squeezing your thighs to adjust your legs against his hips when he isn’t kneading your ass.

Jimin eventually pushes down on your back, pressing you against Taehyung to open your hips more. The action pushes your chest into Taehyung’s face, much to his amusement, because he immediately sucks one of your perky nipples into his mouth.

“Oh god,” you moan, reaching out to squeeze Taehyung’s broad shoulders when he flicks your nipple with the tip of his tongue. His mouth is wet and warm, and your nipples have always been extra sensitive when you’re aroused.

“Fuck, Tae, just, go now,” Jimin instructs through gritted teeth.

Taehyung begins thrusting into you at a different tempo, knocking your heart into your throat because you can feel both of their cocks alternating thrusts inside of you now, both rubbing against each other between your walls.

It’s embarrassing when the first wave of tears starts streaming down your face. You start babbling, hardly aware of what you’re saying because the pleasure is so intense it feels as though your brain completely short circuits.

“Tae, Tae, oh my god, Taehyung,” you breathily chant into Taehyung’s ear. You can’t lean far forward because you have to keep your back arched for both Jimin and Taehyung to comfortably thrust into you. That frustrates you because you suddenly feel the need to be closer to Taehyung. It’s like everything inside of you will explode if you don’t.

“Tae, I n-need y-y-you,” you sob.

“Shhh, baby, we got you, okay? I got you.” Taehyung reaches up to lightly wrap his hand around your throat. It isn’t meant to choke you, just to comfort you with his presence since he can’t hold you against his chest.

“Dropping?” Jimin asks as he pounds into you from behind.

“Just sensitive, I think,” Taehyung responds for you, and it makes you warm to know that he knows you well enough to answer correctly.

His hand slides from your throat to hold your jaw. The position allows him to press his middle finger into your mouth. You immediately suck on it, finding comfort in it even as you continue to cry from the pleasure.

“I’m gonna cum. Tae. I’m gonna cum.”

Taehyung’s hand quickly drops to squeeze between your bodies. He rubs your clit, adding the extra sensation you need to finally push you over the edge. You cry out Taehyung’s name as you cum on both his and Jimin’s cocks, fingers digging into Taehyung’s pecs so hard that you worry you’ll draw blood.

Jimin immediately cums, too, the feeling of your ass clenching around his cock proving too much for him.

“Wait, wait,” he pleads until Taehyung stops moving. “Let me pull out.”

You whimper when you feel Jimin ease out of you, your ass clenching and unclenching as your body adjusts. Now that only Taehyung is inside you, you collapse against his chest. Your lips find his neck and suck, making him shiver underneath you.

“Can I move?” Taehyung asks, and you hum, too afraid to speak.

Taehyung fucks into you harder than he had before. There’s something desperate about it, the way he chases his pleasure and can thrust at the speed he wants without needing to match with Jimin. You don’t even know what Jimin’s doing, probably cleaning himself up or filming you. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is how Taehyung moans your name as he thrusts into you. It’s sloppy and wet, something Taehyung appreciates.

“You sound so good,” he moans into your ear. “Will you cum for me again?”

You frantically nod your head, already almost there.

“Just let go for me, okay? You can trust me.”

It feels like more than just sex when he whispers it in your ear, another quiet promise meant for you and not the camera.

You cum for a second time, this one accompanied by a silent scream that’s pressed into the crook of Taehyung’s sweaty neck.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Taehyung groans, squeezing you against his chest as he finally finds his release, too.

You feel warm and gooey, none of your limbs cooperating when Taehyung tries to move you off him. Jimin has to help, and the two lay you on your back and get to work cleaning you up. It should be embarrassing, but you kind of like having two men doting on you. It’s nice, even if you’re still a little sticky from cum and lube, even after they’ve done their best to wipe your body down.

Why haven’t you ever done this before? This is lovely. Men should be taking care of you.

You smile at them, brain fuzzy and warm, when Jimin helps Taehyung tuck you into bed.

“How are you feeling?” Taehyung asks. He presses his thumb to your bottom lip, caressing it lightly.

“I’m barely holding on.”

Jimin snorts and immediately turns his head away when Taehyung shoots him a death glare.

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” The nervousness in Taehyung’s voice is cute.

“You’re cute.”

Rather than say something smug, Taehyung covers his face with his hands.

“We broke Y/N.”

“What?” Jimin whips his head back around. “What, because you’re cute?”

“Yes.”

You use the rest of your strength to slap Taehyung in the thigh. “Oh, shut the fuck up before I kick your ass. Take the fucking compliment.”

Taehyung peeks at you from between his fingers. “Fuck, you scared me for a second there.”

With a roll of his eyes, Jimin stands up and stretches his arms out. “You’re both fucking drama queens.”

do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work

#jimin x reader #bts fanfic #bts x reader #jimin fanfic #jimin smut #bts fluff #bts smut #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #taehyung x reader #taehyung fanfic #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #the wannabe photographer chronicles #wanna watch a sex tape

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badbtssmut · 9 months

Note

no.4 .gynecologist taehyung and innocent oc breast touching, fingering, just putting in his cock to 'check' her

Admin note: Changed to doctor

“Hmm… I see.” Your doctor, Taehyung, hummed.

You held in your breath, heat rushing to your cheeks as his fingers pumped in and out of your vagina. His expression was one of deep concentration as he examined you.

You were on the medical chair in his office, legs spread wide apart for him as he checked you.

“I will need a deeper look before I can confirm the diagnosis. Can you pull up your shirt and remove your bra for me please? It will make it easier for me to examine you properly if your chest is exposed. It won't take long.”

You nodded and did as you were told. You unbuttoned the white blouse you wore and slipped the straps of your bra down, exposing your breasts to him. You couldn't help but notice how he seemed to be staring at them a little.

He massaged your breasts and when he was done with that he unbuckled his belt. “Chest is looking great, no problem there.” Taehyung pulled down his pants and briefs, letting them drop to his ankles. He was rock hard, his cock long and thick.

“I need to have a deeper look in your vagina, it might feel uncomfortable but try not to tense up too much. Try and relax, I promise it will be quick, I just need to get a clear view of the cervix and I'll know more then. Okay, darling? It will hurt, but only for a second. Try not to move too much while I do it, alright? And no matter what you do, try not to make any noises. You don't want to disturb the other doctors, right?” He smiled at you. “We don't want to interrupt them, they're very busy and have a lot of patients to see today. Don't worry, I'll be gentle, it'll be over before you know it, okay, darling?”

“Yes, sir.”

Taehyung nodded and positioned his cock at your entrance, rubbing it against your folds. He took his time, coating his length in your wetness, teasing you until you were dripping wet.

And then he was inside you, pushing in deeper and deeper, inch by inch.

You held your breath, trying your best not to make a sound. The feeling of him inside you was overwhelming. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest and you felt lightheaded. You bit your lip, trying your best not to moan or gasp. You knew you were not allowed to.

“O-oh, too big…” You gasped as you felt him stretch your tight walls.

Taehyung let out a breathy chuckle. “It will fit, I promise, your body just needs to adjust to it.”

You closed your eyes, taking in the sensation.

After a moment, he began to thrust, moving slowly at first, building up his pace. He moved his hips in a steady rhythm, pumping in and out of you, picking up his pace as you started to loosen up.

Your body jerked, involuntarily reacting to the pleasure he was giving you. You tried to control yourself but you were not succeeding, your moans slipping past your lips despite your attempts to muffle them.

It was so good, so, so good. He was filling you up and stretching you so nicely, fucking you deep and hard.

Taehyung noticed this and put a hand over your mouth, covering it and muffling your moans. He fucked you even harder, his cock pounding into you, his hips slamming into yours with each thrust.

Your hands gripped the armrests of the chair. Your eyes were closed tightly, your breathing coming out in sharp, ragged gasps.

Taehyung groaned as he continued to fuck you, his hand still covering your mouth, silencing your moans.

“A-ah!” You weren’t sure what was happening to your body. Your walls began to tighten and contract around him, squeezing him as he drove his cock in and out of you. A warm sensation was building up inside you, starting in your core and spreading throughout your body.

The warmth quickly grew and spread, your whole body beginning to shake as the pleasure intensified. Your legs tensed and shook, your toes curling.

“Everything is looking great, y/n. Get dressed and feel free to leave.” Taehyung told you as he pulled out.

You quickly fixed yourself, putting on your bra and buttoning up your blouse.

You were still feeling a little bit shaky from your orgasm, and you struggled to stand.

Taehyung smiled and patted you on the head. “Let’s have another check up next week, just to double check things.”

You left the office and walked down the corridor, trying to make your way to the exit. You didn’t question any of it, he was a doctor after all.

#bts smut #bts x reader #bts requests #bts smut requests #bts fanfic #taehyung smut #bts smut fanfic #bts request

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roanofarcc · 3 months

Text

ONE DANCE, PLEASE?

pairing: trevor lefkowitz x ghost bride!reader

summary: since your death, weddings at Woodstone have been a source of bitterness for you but that doesn’t stop trevor from attempting to cheer you up with a dance

word count. 1.6k || masterlist

warnings: fem!reader, mentions of death, dead!reader

a/n: this is my first ghosts fic so please be gentle! I love the idea of a ghost bride and debated on making it into an OC or reader story. I think I like having it be in little one-shots! it’s a crime more hasn’t been written for trevor (or any of the show’s characters). feel free to request for trevor or any other ghosts characters <3

“Are you going to mope around for eternity?” Sasappis asked you, standing arms crossed in front of a beautiful garden decorated to the nines. The backdrop to your sulking was stunning flowers tied in bunches and pastel dresses moving around the patio-turned-dance floor.

“Is that not the point of being a ghost?” you replied, jutting out your feet forever stuck in kitten heels and skin-colored pantyhose. Sass lightly kicked your foot with his and nodded his head to the corner just off the dance floor where the rest of the ghosts danced and laughed. A part of you was jealous of how easily they enjoyed themselves at weddings and how they were not plagued with an eternal hatred for them and what they represented.

It always felt like a cruel joke, even though it never had anything to do with you, when Sam and Jay hosted a wedding at their B&B. As much as you loved the couple, you couldn’t stand what most considered a joyous event. The union of two people in love, not tainted by tragedy, grew your restatement each time. Weddings were a part of the business and helped Sam and Jay bring in the money they desperately needed to fix up the mansion, but that didn’t mean you had to enjoy yourself. Instead, you spent each event sulking on the sidelines, ignoring the pang in your chest, and avoiding your ghostly counterparts' advances to cheer you up. The only thing that would’ve cheered you up was a do-over of your big day that was ruined by a strike of unluckiness, resulting in your untimely death.

Sass narrowed his gaze at you but decided against saying whatever he wanted to. Instead, he turned on his heel and headed back to the ghosts. You adverted your gaze back down to the beads sewn into your dress, picking at them with the wish you could pull the garment apart with your hands, but since it was what you died in, it would forever stick to you.

A slow song played through the DJ’s speakers as the sun slowly began to set over the yard. Strung lights glittered warmly, bathing the attendees in a golden glow. The bride had looked radiant since she arrived at the mansion days ago, and all day you had to watch her and her husband’s love run circles around you. Your malice wasn’t aimed directly at the happy couple, but rather at what they represented and the reminder of what you almost had.

Someone appeared beside you, their presence clouding your solitude-sulking. “What a bunch of losers,” the person said, causing you to turn your head and meet Trevor. “I mean, seriously, this song was lame when I went to weddings and people are still dancing to it? I get the appeal of throwbacks but let’s pick this snooze-fest up a little, am I right?”

You rolled your eyes. “What do you know about weddings?”

“I happen to have been invited to a lot of them, thank you very much. Well, the receptions and bachelor parties, usually. Those weddings had a lot more alcohol and single bridesmaids.” You said nothing in response, hoping your dimly lit mood would shoo Trevor away. You were mistaken, though. If anything, your silence only encouraged him further. He moved in closer to your side, standing with his hands on his hips as he gazed out across the crowd. “I think they may need some help livening things up a bit. Care to join me?”

He often tried to do that, brighten your mood by offering to dance with you. And every time you turn him down, not because you didn't want to, but because you’re worried that the second you start to enjoy yourself at a wedding, tragedy will follow a second time around. You liked Trevor and couldn’t stand the thought of enjoying yourself only to hurt yourself, again, or him. In your head, as long as you moped around, everything would stay the same as they were, which you loved more than you’d admit aloud. You liked your ghost-mates and you liked Sam and Jay. If you somehow brought some unfortunate curse upon any of them because you enjoyed yourself just as you had on your own wedding day, you weren’t sure you could cope with that a second time around, not when you hardly coped with it from the first time.

“Trevor…” you sighed, defeated and slumped-shouldered.

Normally, he dropped it after that. He usually sat quietly at your side until his excitement and urge to join the party overwhelmed him and he resumed dancing with Flower or attempting to play pranks on the livings with Thorfinn. That time, however, he took you by surprise. He moved directly in front of you, face set with a certain tone of seriousness that was odd.

“Nope,” he said, simply. “You are not moping for eternity. I won’t let you.”

“That’s not your choice.”

He smirked, cheekily and annoying but stupidly charming. Those three words suited him too well. Trevor extended his hand out, making a grabbing motion with his hand. “One dance, that’s all I’m askin’. That’s all I need to change your mind.” You tightened your grip on the skirt of your dress, unbudging at his request. “One dance. Please?” His voice was a little lower, pleading almost.

One dance. You never got to dance at your wedding. Something bad could happen, it probably would.

Trevor’s fingers grazed your knuckles, tapping them lightly and looking at you in a way, underneath the golden light, that made you consider it. He noticed your hesitation and dropped his hand back down at his side.

“Okay,” he said after a beat before he turned away with a little frown on his lips that made you feel even worse.

There was something wrong with you, maybe it was some kind of ghostly side effect of dying on your wedding day; perhaps you were doomed to live in the murky waters of what-if and why.

The bride and groom were in the middle of the patio dance floor, spinning each other around in quiet fits of laughter and bodies pressed as close as they could get with the bride’s fluffy dress. They were married, dancing as two halves of a whole with nothing bad lingering over their heads. There was no impending doom, aside from you sitting on the outskirts. The doom was you and your mind, rippled with jealousy, sadness, and a million questions of what exactly you could have done differently that day. But the truth was, there was nothing you could have done. Fate was fate, as Flower had once said in one of her more insightful conversations. Fate was messy and included bear attacks, arrows in necks, and accidents. Fate found you there, at the Woodstone mansion forever a fiancee but now entangled with the fates of your ghost friends who also found themselves there forever.

Forever was such a long, made even longer with eternity hanging on your shoulders. How many more weddings would you sit there, watching and sulking in your own unhappiness that others wanted to fix for you?

Something between a groan and a sigh left your lips as you stood up, letting your wedding dress fall back down to the ground in the pristine condition you had died in it in. “Trevor,” you said again, louder as you called after him. He stopped, slowly turning around with a confused quirk of his brow. You nervously picked at the beads again, but that time wasn’t to pick them off but rather settle them back in place in a similar way to how you had picked at them awaiting your turn to walk down the aisle. A dance was not nearly as monumental as that, but it carried a weight that pressed down on your chest.

“One dance,” you said. He stared at you for a moment like he wasn’t sure he had heard you right. It wasn’t until Thor punched him in the arm with a hardy laugh and Hetty pushed him forward towards you.

Trevor approached you, smoothing out his tie. “Really?” he asked.

You nodded. “If anything bad happens, I’m blaming it on you," you said only half joking.

He smiled, wide and toothy and the way that made you subconsciously want to copy it. “The worst thing that’ll happen is me stepping on your feet. I haven’t slow danced since prom.” Despite that, he dramatically bowed and extended his hand. “May I have this dance,” he said in a terrible accent. You couldn’t help but laugh lightly, some of that weight lifting from where it hurt your chest.

Once you accepted his hand, he all but dragged you to a quiet corner of the dance floor, away from where any livings would walk through you two, and away from the other ghosts and their suggestive smirks and comments pointed at the two of you.

When you danced, with his feet clumsily trying to avoid stepping on yours and hands rested on your waist, nothing bad happened. You did not die a second time around, nor did tragedy strike in the way you feared. The only thing that occurred was dancing, peppered with occasional laughter and a quick apology when Trevor stepped on your skirt and halted your movements. You recovered with a shake of your head and a slight lead in the dance, which he didn’t voice but silently appreciated.

#cbs ghosts #trevor lefkowitz #trevor lefkowitz x reader #trevor lefkowitz x you #sasappis #thorfinn #isaac higgintoot #hetty woodstone #alberta haynes #flower montero #pete martino #ghosts fanfiction #cbs ghosts fanfiction

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naughtyneganjdm · 11 months

Text

Back Pain

Summary: After you find Negan on the floor of his cell in pain when he hurt his back, you offer to give him a massage. With how touch starved Negan is, you find yourself taking advantage of the moment and make Negan feel good in other ways.

Characters: Negan & the reader (OC, second person)

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50901724

Warnings: 18+, Swearing, smut, little to no plot, hurt/comfort, submissive Negan, dominant reader, praise kink, p*ssy job, begging Negan, etc.

Notes: This is pure filth. Not gonna lie. I thought I would make it innocent at first, but that's not how this story wanted to be written. I hope you enjoy it.

You would never admit this to the rest of the people in Alexandria, but days like these were your favorites. Getting to be the person to go and spend some time with Negan when you gave him his meals for the day actually was something you looked forward to. Many people hated the job, but you took it whenever you could. Talking to Negan was something you enjoyed. Even though people didn’t really give Negan credit, he was quite intelligent and knew a lot about books. You always enjoyed having conversations with him. Sure, he was a bit of a smart ass and was always very inappropriate at times, but you liked it. You liked him. So any chance you could take to do this, you would. And people wouldn’t often fight you on it when you offered. Negan rubbed a lot of the people in Alexandria the wrong way, but you felt like you saw more to him than everyone else did.

Heading down to the cell that they kept Negan in, you clutched tightly to the tray that Negan’s food was on when you didn’t see him sitting at either in the corner of the room or on the cot that they had for him, “Negan?”

“Oh, hey,” Negan’s voice responded raspier than normal causing you to drop your head to see that he was laying on the center of the floor face first on the ground. His head turned toward you and he let out a small groan. “I’m…here.”

“Are you okay?” you wondered noticing that he wasn’t moving much and he let out a hesitant breath.

“I think I pulled out my back,” Negan was honest, his words coming out in a slow slur. His eyebrows bounced up and he let out a groan when he tried to push himself up but let out a hiss when he braced his hands on the floor. “My tennis ball went underneath the cot. I bent down to grab it and well…the rest is history.”

“Oh,” you chuckled, setting his tray of food down on the ground to slide it under the bars for him. “Do you need some help?”

“You trust me enough for that?” Negan managed to pull himself up to his knees, his hands still bracing on the floor when he winced. “Getting older sucks. My back has always been shit, but this fucking cot doesn’t help any.”

“I trust you,” you assured him pulling out the keys to his cell. Opening up the door, you closed it behind you when you entered it and headed over to Negan. Wrapping your arm around his waist, you reached for the other arm and wrapped it around your shoulders. Using your strength, you helped pull him up from the ground and heard him grumble under his breath. “Let’s get you seated.”

“If people could see me now,” Negan winced, his left hand reaching behind him to press over the small of his back. “Big bad Negan pulls out his back and he’s in agony. I’d love to say I hurt it doing something incredibly wild, but nope. Just reaching for a tennis ball.”

“It happens to the best of us,” you cracked a smile and thought about it for a moment. “Do you want me to massage your back for you? Try to help you loosen things up?”

“I don’t know,” Negan began looking toward the window in his room letting out a long sigh. “They really don’t like you in here with me.”

“I could care less what they think. Lay down,” you instructed, getting up from the cot that you were sitting on together. Pushing into Negan’s shoulder, you could see the resistance in his movements before he finally lowered down face first on the cot. Adjusting the pillow under his head, Negan wiggled a bit until he found himself in a comfortable position. “Do I have permission to touch you?”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan grumbled when you carefully lowered down onto the cot with him. Crawling in over him, you rest your knees at his sides. A loud exhale fell from his throat when you lowered your hands to start caressing over his lower back. Watching his body language, you wanted to make sure that you weren’t going to hurt him while you did it. Carefully you caressed further up the length of his long back and then up toward his shoulders. Taking your time, you paid attention to him learning what areas seemed to affect him by his breathing changes. Putting a bit more pressure into your touch had Negan groaning out. “That’s good.”

“Are you sure? You’re shaking,” you noticed, pulling your hands away from Negan when he looked back at you over his shoulder. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“No, it’s not that. I just…” Negan turned on his side, visible pain in his face when he stretched his back a certain way. There was embarrassment flooding into his features, when he forced himself to look away from you. “I haven’t been touched in a very long time. Never by someone being gentle or kind at least…”

Frowning, you reached out to palm in over the side of Negan’s face. You were tender in the way you touched his face and Negan let out a tremoring sound. His eyes came to a close, his lips parting when he leaned into your palm showing how much he missed simply just the touch of another person. Cuddling his face in against your palm, you felt your heart rate quicken with the way his short beard tickled at your flesh.

Using your free hand, you outstretched it to drag your fingertips over the top of his hand hearing his breathing getting louder. Stroking tenderly at his flesh, you took your time noticing the way that his shaking got more intense. Hooking your fingers with his, you leaned forward to place a faint kiss over his temple.

“Lay back down,” you commanded and he did as you asked of him. Going back to the original plan, you continued to rub his back. The knots that you had worked on started to loosen up and you noticed that it made Negan much more relaxed beneath you as well. Sliding your palms down Negan’s back, you reached the back of the gray t-shirt that he was wearing. Tugging faintly at the material, you managed to sneak your fingers in underneath it for your fingers to come in contact with the warmth of his flesh. The sound Negan made showed you that he was alright with it. A breath caught in your throat as your touch raised up toward his shoulders. There was no question that he was enjoying what you were doing by the sounds that he was making. “Feeling better?”

“So much,” Negan breathed out, his head cuddling in closer to the pillow. Dragging your hands down Negan’s back, this time you slid your hands down over his sides and toward his lower abdomen. That had his back arching up and you repeated the motion up again. Multiple times you did the same thing and what sounded like a moan fell from Negan’s throat. “Stop.”

“What’s wrong?” you questioned almost losing your balance over him when Negan pulled himself from underneath you and toward the opposite end of the cot. Almost instinctively he reached for the pillow that he had been laying on and covered the center of his pants with it. An amused sound escaped your lips when Negan’s face flushed over with red.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” Negan looked ashamed and you knew what he was insinuating was going on. “I wanted this to be as innocent as possible, but the way you were touching me…”

“That’s okay Negan,” you hushed him, reaching out to place your hand in over his and he seemed to tremor. “I’m not mad.”

“You’re not?” Negan confirmed with you, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. Dropping his head, Negan looked toward the pillow that was covering his lap and he shook his head. “If you want to leave, I will understand. Shit, I wouldn’t blame you.”

Nodding, you stood up from the cot. The expression over Negan’s features showed that he was disappointed at the thought of you leaving and it made your heart flutter in your chest. Stepping forward, you reached for the pillow that was over Negan’s lap and he clung tightly to it. Shaking your head, you hushed him and grabbed the pillow. Setting it beside Negan, your eyes lowered to see the bulge that was at the center of his pants showing that he did get a hard on from what you had been doing.

“Lift your arms,” you instructed with Negan’s hazel eyes locked on yours. At first, he seemed nervous and like he didn’t want to listen, but when your fingers grabbed the bottom of his shirt he obeyed.

“Yes ma’am,” Negan’s tongue dragged out over his bottom lip lifting his arms for you. Pulling his shirt up and over the lengths of his slender abdomen, you tossed the shirt aside and heard him breathe out shakenly. Dragging your fingers across his shoulder had his pupils dilating. His lips parted and he didn’t take his eyes from yours. Teasing your fingers further down over the center of his chest had Negan leaning back against the wall. Stroking over his slender abdomen, you circled your fingers through the dark curls of hair that covered his flesh. It had Negan breathing unevenly and he was trembling again showing how much this was truly heightening everything for him. Sliding your fingers down further, you reached the belt in Negan’s pants and heard him whimper. “What is this?”

“Relax,” you ordered once more not giving him an answer when you started to pull apart the material of the belt. Once you got the material separate, you went for the button in his jeans and unhooked it. Leaning forward, Negan’s lips hovered in over yours. The warmth of his breath lingered, his eyes narrowing with how close you were to him. “You shouldn’t have been treated like this Negan. You deserve better than you were given.”

Negan’s hazel eyes fell to your lips as you dragged the zipper down in his jeans. Faintly your lips dragged over his and it made him let out what sounded like a whimper. Pressing forward, his lips claimed yours in a hungry, passionate kiss. One that surprised even you. Negan’s fingers curled around the back of your neck while the kiss lingered. There wasn’t much time to separate from Negan because he was eager to keep kissing you over and over again. Purring against his lips, you went to pull back, but he was eager to meet you again, his tongue brushing between your lips causing you to place your hand over the center of his chest to stop him.

Tugging at the material of Negan’s jeans, you got them down his long slender legs and tossed them aside after pulling off the boots that he was wearing. Curling your fingers around the back of Negan’s calf muscle, you caressed over his body and watched hm tip his head back. The vein at the side of Negan’s neck was bulging while you squeeze and caressed at the flesh of Negan’s thighs.

The large bulge at the center of Negan’s gray boxer briefs was very evident and you felt your mouth go wet at the sight of it, “We’re going to finish your massage.”

“But…” Negan’s head lowered back down, his lips parted and he looked disappointed to hear you say that. “I thought…”

“We will, just not right now…” you whispered making him frown when you admitted that. “Lay back down on your stomach.”

Following your instructions, Negan did as he was told laying back face down on the cot, getting comfortable again. This time you crawled in over him again and caressed over the planes of his back. Your touch was more sensual making sure to slide over his shoulders, down over the side of his torso, toward the front of his lower abdomen and back toward his lower back.

Adjusting your weight, you moved down lower and allowed your palms to drag down over his small bottom caressing over the flesh. Sliding further down, you squeezed at the back of his thighs and heard him moaning. Sliding your hand between his thighs, you cupped his balls through the material of his boxer briefs and it had him moaning out.

Reaching for Negan’s boxer briefs, you tugged the material down and heard his shuddering exhale that followed. Unhurriedly you exposed Negan’s small ass to your sight and smiled. Caressing at his lower back had his hips arching slightly and you caressed lower.

“Lift,” you instructed sliding your hand around Negan’s side around to the front. Doing what you asked, he arched his hips up slightly allowing your fingers to connect with his rigid manhood. The moan that followed from Negan drew chills to fill your own body. At first your strokes were slow, taking the time to test Negan’s flesh in your grasp. Lowering further in over Negan, you pressed kisses over his earlobe and felt Negan lazily bucking his hips up toward your caresses. “Are you being a good boy or a bad boy?”

“A good boy,” Negan panted, his head stealing a glance back over at you. His eyelids were heavy, his hazel eyes locked on you while you continued to take your time jerking him off.

“You are such a good boy,” you praised him, kissing over his jawline. Another deep, raspy moan fell from his throat when you nibbled at his flesh. “But when I need you to be, you’ll be my bad boy, won’t you?”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan nodded his head, whining when you pulled your hand away from his cock. “Please…please don’t stop…”

Snickering, you caressed over the lengths of Negan’s back and sighed, “Get on your back…”

Shakily he moved on the small cot and stretched out beneath you, his hands settling in over your thighs when you rest yourself on your knees over him. Your eyes fell to his swollen cock and it made you suck at your bottom lip. There was a vulnerability in Negan’s eyes and it was such an interesting thing to see. You weren’t used to this idea of Negan, but you loved it.

“Just lay back, relax and be my good boy,” you praised Negan caressing over the lengths of his lower abdomen and it had him licking his lips again. Curling your left hand around Negan’s girthy shaft, you started to stroke over him again and watch his abdomen sink in with his deep breaths. “I want you to come for me. Do you think you could do that for me?”

Nodding his head, Negan looked down toward your hand watching it pump away at his flesh. Outstretching his hand, he stroked down over the side of your face in a gentle sweep. Turning your head toward his hand, you kissed over the center of his palm before taking his index finger between your lips. Nibbling at the tip had his faint moan filling the small cell and when you took it further into your mouth you had him hissing out.

Sucking at his finger had him panting when your other hand joined to help stroke over Negan’s body. It was throbbing in your grasp and you knew that Negan’s body was eager to come. Hell, he wanted it so bad.

Pulling your mouth away from Negan’s finger with a wet sound, you allowed your grasp to get stronger while you jerked Negan off and felt his hips arching up toward you. Rocking your hips forward had the denim of your jeans rubbing up against the ridge of the tip of his cock and it had him grunting loudly.

You hated to admit it, but this turned you on more than you planned on it doing. Getting up from the cot had Negan whining and you saw his cock twitching with the anticipation of not getting to finish. When he saw that you were undoing your pants, he let out a shuddering breath. The way his eyes ate you alive when you pushed your panties down with your pants and then crawled in over him brought an incredible amount of confidence to you.

Eagerly Negan pushed up onto his hands, his mouth claiming yours again in a passionate sweep. Pressing your hand into the center of his chest, you forced him back down onto the cot. Huffing out, Negan’s hands settled in over your hips giving them soft sweeps with his thumbs. Lowering his left hand, Negan grabbed the base of his erection in attempt to lead his cock to your entrance, but you pulled your hips back and shook your head.

“You’re supposed to be my good boy, don’t be bad…” you warned him watching Negan pout and he nodded his head. “You’re not allowed to enter me. I told you we’ll have sex and you can be in me however you want, but right now it’s just a massage.”

“I don’t understand,” Negan’s hands brushed up and under your shirt, his rough fingertips caressing over your torso. Pushing up the material of your shirt, Negan lifted up enough to pull the cup of your bra down. Taking your breast into his mouth, Negan’s tongue circled your nipple before sucking faintly at the flesh. Pulling back with wet lips, Negan allowed his thumb to circle the bud. “You are so fucking beautiful.”

“You’ll start to understand,” you hushed him, using your left hand to caress over his length. Bringing the tip of it to your wet folds, you traced the swollen head between them. His moan vibrated against your lips and you bit faintly at his bottom lip. “Lay back…”

Pushing into his chest, you forced Negan back on the bed again. Reaching for his hands, you put them over his head and allowed his cock to rest against his lower abdomen. Hovering your hips over his length, you started to rock your hips over Negan’s shaft allowing your sensitive folds to rub up against his cock again and again. Every roll of your hips would have the tip of his cock rubbing against your clitoris and it was giving you the right amount of friction to make this just as pleasurable for you.

“Does that feel good?” you demanded an answer, your free hand reaching to grab a hold of Negan’s jawline to get him to stare up at you. “Do you like this kind of massage?”

“So much,” Negan growled against your lips when he lifted up enough to kiss you again. You put a lot of power into the rolls of your thrusts and you hoped the sounds the two of you were making wouldn’t draw the attention of those outside. “You’re teasing me.”

“I am,” you hushed him sucking at his bottom lip, dragging your tongue out over his flesh. “I’m going to let you do whatever you want to me, but we’re going to give that back a rest for today. Let it heal and then tomorrow, this pussy is completely yours.”

“You could ride me,” Negan begged against your lips, his breathing broken with his eyebrows furrowing while you continued to rub up against his cock. Shaking your head, you felt your heart hammering inside of your chest and this was doing wonders on your sensitive bundle of nerves. You were so wet and you could hear it by the way you were rubbing up against Negan. “Please.”

“No,” you shook your head, keeping his hands forced above his head. Hot, wet kisses were pressed over his lips while his moans grew louder.

“I’m begging you,” Negan huffed against your flesh, his hazel eyes rolling back to a close while you used his cock for both yours and his pleasure.

“You want to come inside of me?” you inquired watching Negan desperately nod his head. His dimples were prominent, his eyes full of lust and want for you. “You want to be balls deep inside of me?”

“I do,” he whined, lifting his head to see that there was precum developing at the tip while you continued to rub your pussy up against the length of his cock. It was a wet sensation and he loved it, but he was so desperate for more. “I promise it will feel so good.”

“This already feels good,” you corrected him cooing out with the friction it caused against your clit. “I promise you, tomorrow you can fill me with your cum you beautiful, gorgeous man.”

“I can’t wait until tomorrow,” he whined once more and you tsked against his lips, pulling your hips up and away from him. Your own body hated that move, but you were trying to make a point of who was in charge. “Maybe just the tip?”

“If I get the tip inside of me, I’m gonna want the whole thing beautiful,” you licked at his lips drawing Negan to moan once more. “I can stop all together if you want. You’re being a bad boy Negan.”

“No. No, please,” Negan begged once more, his expression growing more upset. “I promise to be a good boy.”

“Of course you do,” you smiled using your hand that wasn’t holding his wrists above his head to drag your fingers through his wet hair. Adjusting your hips over him again, Negan was eager to arch his hips up toward you to have you rubbing yourself over his throbbing manhood. “You have such a pretty cock. You know that?”

“I do?” he breathed out and you smiled. You didn’t realize you had it in you to be such a dominant in a situation like this, but Negan was so touch starved that it was easy for him to be your submissive. “You are so fucking beautiful.”

Lowering yourself closer to him, you released Negan’s wrists and felt him wrapping his arms around you while you upped the speed of you rubbing your pussy up against his erection. Your cries grew louder, matching the sounds that Negan was making. Between kisses, Negan would steal quick looks to see what was happening between the two of you. There were chills flooding your body, your pulse jumping in your throat when you cried out.

One over exaggerated roll of your hips with him arching up led the tip of his cock to enter your wet and ready entrance when you slid back. It immediately made you moan out against Negan’s mouth when his thick cock stretched you on your rock back. Digging your nails into his shoulder had him hissing out and you lifted your head to stare into his desperate hazel eyes.

“You bad boy,” you shook your head feeling the ache with having Negan’s cock inside of you. Your movements stopped and Negan threw his head back.

“I’m so sorry. It was an accident, I swear,” Negan pled with you, seeing that you were unhurriedly sinking down over his cock. Once you had him filling you to the brim, you rocked your hips in a circular motion over him. You told yourself you wouldn’t let this happen, but fuck it felt so good with him inside of you. Neither one of you were going to last much longer. But hell, you were going to take advantage of it. Starting to bounce your hips over his length powerfully had his moan raspy and his eyebrows furrowing. “You feel so good. So wet…so tight…”

Your movements were strong and steady setting a pace between the two of you that had the cot squeaking with the motions. You were still laying over Negan having his hips bouncing up toward your movements eagerly. The wet sounds of your bodies moving in unison grew louder. Negan’s left hand was caressing over the back of your neck, urging you to his lips while his right reached between you to allow his thumb to caress over your clitoris. With your motions, you helped aid to that friction and fuck it felt so good.

“Negan,” you panted his name, tossing your head back feeling your thighs start to tremor and shake against him. Burying your nose against the side of his neck, you paused your movements over him when you felt your walls clenching tightly to Negan’s cock after you orgasmed with him inside of you. Panting against his flesh you were in awe of the way he caressed over your neck and his other hand slid around to palm over your bottom.

“Permission for me to come?” Negan requested and you laughed, gaining enough strength to bounce your hips over him repeatedly. Winces became more frequent from his throat when you felt the first twitch of his cock inside of you. The warmth of Negan’s release was felt and you looked down between the two of you to see his cum dripping down the base of his cock and your mixed fluids pooling at his groin. It surprised you how Negan clung to you when he came, desperate to kiss you and hold you close while you milked him completely of his release. Falling in over his chest, you stroked your fingers over the center of it and heard him breathing loudly. “If you don’t punish me and you still want it, I promise I will make tomorrow perfect. It will be all about you and only you.”

“This wasn’t all that bad Negan,” you slurred, tracing your fingertips over his wet lips noticing that he was nervous about how you would respond to things. “It actually felt pretty nice, didn’t it?”

“Yes ma’am,” he growled, rolling you over onto your back with him over you. A thick rumble of a moan fell from his throat when he pulled his hips back allowing his cock to pull from you.

“You filled me up good, didn’t you?” you stroked your fingers through his wet hair and he gave you a single nod. “Maybe you should clean up your mess. Don’t you think?”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan smirked kissing your lips one final time before peppering kisses down over the lengths of your body. In this moment you found yourself thankful that Negan was so touch starved to begin with because you were certain now after everything you could tell Negan to jump and he would ask how high.

----

Tags: @slutlanna976 @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @de-gabyconamor @ibelongtonegan @smallsadjellyfish @labyrinthofheartagrams @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan @redmercysugar @caprithebunny @tuttifuckinfruitty @emoryhemsworth @a-girl-interupted @akumune @stoneyggirl2 @xsarcasticwriterx @insertneganhere @haleygreen23 @xhannahbananax03 @sanctuaryforthelost @burningredaffair @killaweiser @dead-of-niight @ayumi-wolf @hollyismentallyillhelp @promiscuousbarnes @tone-stark @lanadelnegan

#Negan #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #Negan fanfiction #negan x reader #The Walking Dead #Negan smut #negan x you #twd fanfiction #negan imagine #Negan Smith

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helen-with-an-a · 5 months

Text

First Time Crush pt 3

Hiya. So this is the final part of First Time Crush. It's a little Ellie/R heavy but I hope you like it.

Barca Femeni x Reader ; OC x Reader

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3

Description: R's got some exciting stuff to share with the team

Word Count: 3.5k

Things with Ellie were fantastic. You felt your whole world shifting around her. She was your sun, and you were in orbit.

You had gone on three dates already. The first one was painfully awkward, you thought, anyway.

You were walking out of the stadium alone – thankfully. Everyone was waiting for you to finish your shower and get ready, the promise of Ellie waiting outside making you shake with excited nerves.

You had fretted the night before over what to wear. Every outfit you owned suddenly felt wrong on your body – either it was too tight, and you felt self-conscious, or it was too loose, and you felt stupid. You were nearly in tears as you phoned Ingrid, tugging harshly at your hair and scratching painful lines into your skin as you got overwhelmed.

“Kjæreste?” Ingrid asked, confused as to why you were phoning so late in the day before a match.

“Too much.” You had eventually squeaked out, trying really hard not to let the tears fall. That was all Ingrid needed to hear before she gathered up Mapí and broke several speed laws to get to yours.

They found you sat amongst a pile of clothes, eyes red with suppressed tears and a dejected look on your face.

“Oh, neña.” Mapí had pulled you from the floor, guiding you to your bed as she hugged you tightly. “Respiraciones profundas,” she said, exaggerating her breathing and running a gentle hand through your hair. Ingrid had silently gathered up your clothes, slipping them back onto hangers and into their designated places before sitting on the other side.

“What happened, søtnos?” Ingrid asked as you pulled back a little from Mapí.

“I’m seeing Ellie tomorrow.” You hoped that was all the explanation you needed to give – it was, at least, for Ingrid, but she wanted you to voice your concerns fully. “I was trying to decide what to wear. Everything felt wrong.” Your voice wobbled as you tried to breathe away the rising tears. Mapí’s hand came to grip yours tightly, the action helping to ground you somewhat.

“Ok, cariño…"

You had sat for over an hour with them as they helped ease your fears and craft the perfect yet comfortable outfit for your coffee date with Ellie. And now, you were going on that date. You had hoped the others would leave before you so you could greet Ellie without fanfare, but it seemed like that would not be happening … at least, not as you had hoped. As you slipped your bag on your shoulder, you felt every pair of eyes on you.

“Estas lista para ir?” Jana, Pina, Bruna and Patri stood with mischievous smiles as you turned around to face the changing room.

“Ella irá sola, chicas.” Alexia interrupted before you could speak, smiling as you sent her a grateful smile. You laughed as their protests inadvertently eased your worries, and you slipped out the door.

Ellie looked like an absolute goddess as you sallied up to her. The collar of her blue away kit peeked out from underneath her soft cream sweater—you really hoped it was yours she was wearing.

“Hey, beautiful.” She smiled that dazzling smile that took your breath away. “You played so well today,” she complimented, the praise bringing a rosy hue to your cheeks.

“Th-thank you,” you stammered. There was an awkward pause; at least, you thought it was awkward (Ellie was taking the time to admire you and hadn’t even realised the gap).

“Are you ready to go?” She wondered. You nodded, eyes staying resolutely on her shoes. “Can I hold your hand?” She asked, not wanting to overstep any boundary you might have. Your brain froze – you barely even realised your enthusiastic nodding – as her warm hand slipped into yours. Her skin was smooth and soft as she intertwined your fingers, pulling you away from the stadium. “So, where do you want to go?” She questioned, inwardly smiling as she watched you panic slightly at her words.

“Um, it’s not too far. Maybe like a 10-minute walk. It’s takeaway only, but I thought I could show you some places?” It was the most words Ellie had ever heard you say in one go. Her heart fluttered at your timid nature, pride swelling in her chest as she thought about you planning the date despite being so unsure.

The date was perfect. She was perfect … but you were an awkward mess. Despite her protests, you had bought her coffee and several pastries before taking her to a small little woodland trail. It wasn’t a big hike … or a hike at all, really, maybe 5 minutes on flat ground, but it wasn’t well-walked and offered you the privacy you wanted for the date. The meadow you took her to was breathtaking; wildflowers filled the green space as you sat. She had, naturally, taken control of most of the conversation, letting you have the space to talk when you wanted. You also had sat in comfortable silence for a time, your hand still firmly in hers as you watched the clouds dance above your heads. You thought you were far too shy and awkward for Ellie to want anything to do with you, but she had surprised you as you ended the date at her front door.

“So, beautiful, care to do this again?” she smirked. Your brain short-circuited, your heartbeat quickened, and another crimson blush spread across your cheeks. You nodded, swallowing down the nerves as you took a deep breath.

“I really enjoyed today,” you confessed, smiling as she squeezed your hand in response.

“So, did I. When’s your next day off?” She lifted her hand to push some of your hair away from your face.

“Um … Monday? But if that’s too soon, then that’s fine too.” You rushed out. It was only Saturday, after all.

“Monday sounds good,” she smiled her earth-shattering smile again. “I have a lecture in the morning, but I can meet you for lunch. I’m free all afternoon. Maybe you could come round here, and I could cook, and we could just hang out?”

“That sounds really nice.” You smiled at her, finally meeting her eyes.

“Perfect,” she giggled – her voice sounding like it was handcrafted by angels. “I’ll text you.” She leaned in, pressing her lips to your cheek before turning around and unlocking her front door, allowing you a moment to try to collect yourself. “Bye, beautiful.” She waved, her fingers fluttering gently as she closed her door.

The second date went just as well. She was so perfect. You were … less awkward than you were before.

Ellie: How do you say my beautiful girl in Spanish? x

Beautiful: mi niña hermosa

Beautiful: why?

Ellie has changed your contact to Mi Niña Hermosa

Mi Niña Hermosa: oh

Ellie: :)

You have changed Ellie’s contact to Mi Diosa

Mi Diosa: what does that mean? x

Mi Niña Hermosa is typing …

Mi Diosa: what does that mean ????

Mi Niña Hermosa: :)

You arrived at her flat exactly on time… well, actually, you were 15 minutes early, but you had walked to the small flower shop on the way and picked a beautiful bouquet of wildflowers. You were then only 3 minutes early, but you waited on a low wall near her building for the right time to ring the buzzer.

“Hey, beautiful.” Her voice sounded so perfect even through the bad intercom.

“Hi, mi diosa.” You tested it out, your heart beating nervously as you did. You took some solace in her not knowing what it meant. The door beeped, and the lock clicked, signalling it was open. The walk up was familiar (you had done it only two days prior) yet foreign. It seemed like a nice enough place – clean, friendly, and, most importantly, safe. You don’t know why you liked the thought of Ellie living in a lovely, dirt-free, safe flat, but it eased your nerves slightly. You knocked on the door, gripping the flowers. The door was wrenched open, and Ellie appeared in front of you. She looked even more gorgeous than the first time.

“Oh my gosh, they’re stunning. Beautiful, you shouldn’t have.” She said as you presented them to her.

“Not as stunning as you.” You weren’t a flirter, but it felt natural to say, so you said it. The all-consuming nerves that had been present at your first weren’t as harsh; instead, a pleasant fluttering stirred in your stomach. If you had been watching Ellie, you would have seen the shy smile and rosy tint rising on her cheeks. Instead, you were looking around her flat. She had lots of pictures of friends and family around, some decorative artwork on the walls, and soft blankets piled neatly on the sofa.

“C’mon. I didn’t know what you could eat with your diet and whatnot, so I’ve made fancy sandwiches.” She put her hand on your waist, the patch of bare skin where your top had ridden up, blazing with heat when her hand touched.

You had spent all afternoon with Ellie. It started with her carrying the conversation, like every interaction you had so far, but as time went on and the shadows lengthened, you were becoming more open – although you were still oblivious to your flirtiness (everything that you wanted to said, you had, not quite realising how teasing it sounded). You were becoming more like yourself – your intelligence shone through, and your kindness and gentle nature made Ellie fall even harder for you.

Eventually, you had left the sanctuary of Ellie’s flat long after nightfall but not too late as you had an early morning training session, and you were mindful of her schedule.

“Bye, beautiful.” Ellie had said, much like she did on Saturday.

“Bye, mi Diosa.” You replied, your eyes dancing over her features. She stepped forward, one hand holding the door, one hand resting on your arm, and she pressed a delicate kiss to the corner of your mouth. Almost all the calmness you felt that afternoon disappeared as you struggled to breathe. Did she mean to kiss you there? Was it a misplaced kiss on the cheek? Did she want to kiss you properly? You blinked owlishly at her, a subtle smile gracing your features.

“I miss you already.” She blew you a final kiss as she shut the door, leaving you to your thoughts as you tried to calm yourself.

Mi Diosa: is it too soon to ask you out again?

Mi Niña Hermosa: I finish at 5 tomorrow – I could cook for you?

Mi Niña Hermosa: It’s a match day on Wednesday tho so it will have to be fairly healthy

You have sent a maps link. Click here to open it: https://www....

Mi Diosa: Sounds perfect I’ll be there at 6? x

You had been … odd … at training. That was the only way the team could describe you. You were happy enough, so they weren’t questioning it too much. But you seemed different.

“Pequeña, estás bien?” Alexia had asked, concerned over your behaviour.

“Hmm? Oh, yeh.” You smiled at her. She nodded, but her expression wasn’t convinced. You were training well, better than you had been all season, to be honest. It was hard to put a finger on. Ingrid had tried next, sitting next to your cubby in the changing room as you swapped your boots for your trainers.

“Is everything alright, Kjæreste?”

“Huh?” You were distracted again, mentally running over the checklist for tonight for the thousandth time. “Yeh, I’m good,” you dismissed, smiling at her—her expression similar to Alexia’s.

Throughout the day, everyone had come up to you, even Vicky, asking if you were ok and reminding you that if you needed to talk, you could do it. It wasn’t until you had rushed out of the changing rooms bang on 5pm that they could talk freely.

“Ella es rara, verdad?” Patri asked as soon as the door swung shut. There were many hums of agreement as they wondered what it could be.

“Maybe it’s something to do with that girl she had a crush on?” Lucy pondered.

“Ha dicho cómo fue su cita?” Pina asked, looking around at the shaking heads.

“Maybe that’s a good thing.” Keira suggested

“O tal vez se estrelló y se quemó,” Martina added pessimistically. The room went silent.

“Bueno, independientemente de lo que pasó, tenemos que dejarla venir a nosotros. Lo hará cuando esté lista.” Alexia said with finality, putting the situation to rest, at least for the moment.

You had just finished getting ready when the doorbell rang. 6 pm on the dot … you liked a punctual girl.

“Hola, hermosa,” Ellie laughed as you stumbled to get the door open.

“Hola, mi Diosa. Cómo estás?” She looked a little lost for a moment before answering. “Estoy bien, y tu?” Her words were a little staccato but very well-pronounced.

“Muy bien, mi Diosa.” You smiled at her smile. “Por favor, entra” You stepped back to let her in. It was clear she didn’t understand what your phrase meant but understood the sentiment all the same. Only when she walked past did you realise she also had a small bouquet of rainbow flowers, the plastic wrapping crinkling as she moved. “I thought we could cook something together. It is only chicken, veg and pasta, but it’s nice.” You explained, looking at the various produce on the side.

“That sounds fantastic.”

Much like the day before, you chatted the evening away. You laughed over your meal; you sat too close to her on the sofa as you continued giggling at the stories you shared. Eventually, she got fed up with her skin lightly brushing yours and lifted herself up and onto your lap.

You froze, suddenly nervous again at her closeness. She froze, thinking she may have pushed this too far. She loved how open you were becoming with her; your behaviour was closer to what she saw when you were on the pitch during warmups and after the matches. Had she just ruined this?

“Is this … ok?” she whispered to you. You gulped, taking in the sweet scent of her perfume before nodded, letting a shy smile spread across your lips. “Good,” she said, taking your fingers in her hand and fiddling with them as she continued her story.

You wanted it to last longer, but you had a midweek match, so you needed an earlier night.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed as you walked her to your door.

“It’s ok,” she reassured you again.

“Will I … are you... areyougoingtothegame?” you rushed out. She raised an eyebrow at you. “Are you coming to the game tomorrow?” you asked slower this time, unable to meet her eyes. She lifted her finger, pulling your face up to meet her gaze.

“Of course I am.” She smiled softly. “I’m a season ticket holder, I’ll have you know,” she said smugly.

“You are?”

“Yes, I am. And I’ve never missed a home game. Not one this whole season.” She puffed her chest out with pride.

“A true culer, then.” You teased. “Next year, you won’t need a season ticket,” you promised, your eyes flicking down to her lips.

“And why’s that?” she asked, hoping you were hinting at what she wanted you to imply.

“If we give the club enough notice, we get 2 free tickets per home game,” you explained. “Front row … box and pitch access if you want it.” Your eyes flicked back up to meet hers.

“Is this your way of asking me to watch your games, specifically to support you, not Barça Femeni as a whole?” She quirked her eyebrow up in question, her gaze drifting to your lips. The air between you grew heavy, and she pushed herself up to meet your height. “Can I …”

“Please.” You cut her off. Her hands locked into your hair; your fingers drifted along her waist. She tasted like heaven. That was all you could think as she kissed you. First, it was just a quick peck, but then she drew herself back, deepening it as she pressed herself into your body.

“Woah,” she gasped when you eventually parted.

“Now, I really don’t want you to go.” You whined, equally as out of breath.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at the match? I’ll wear your England jersey so you can spot me easier.” You smiled at her words.

“I think I’m starting, so I might not be able to come over until after.”

“That’s ok. As long as you come over at some point.” She smiled her warm, soft smile at you.

“Maybe I could introduce you properly to the girls? As my girlfriend?” you asked shyly, unwilling to meet her eye. She waited, hoping you would look at her – you were still tightly pushed together, her arms around your neck, yours gently resting on her waist.

“Look at me, please,” she asked softly. You did, automatically calming down when your gazes met. "I would love to officially meet my girlfriend’s friends.” Your glittering smile nearly knocked her off her feet.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, beautiful,” she murmured, pressing a final kiss to your lips as she extricated herself from your embrace.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, mi diosa”

“I still don’t know what that means.” She pouted.

“Don’t worry, I know someone more than willing to teach you Spanish.”

Mi Diosa: Goodnight, beautiful

Mi Niña Hermosa: Goodnight, mi novia bonita

You changed Mi diosa’s contact to Mi Novia Bonita

Mi Novia Bonita: stop saying stuff when I don’t know what it means !!!

Mi Niña Hermosa: :)

You played the best game of your life. Your technique was flawless. Your skills were unmatched. You had your name on the score sheet 4 times, along with 3 assists. It was a textbook match for you. You were on fire.

“What has happened to you?” Lucy asked, confused as to the changes in you.

“What do you mean?” You asked, buzzing with energy as you clapped the fans. You came to a stop in front of a very familiar white jersey. You abandoned Lucy, coming to standing in between Alexia and Ingrid.

“Mira quien ha venido a verte.” Alexia nudged you gently, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Do you want to go say hi?” Ingrid asked, putting a hand on the middle of your back, ready to give a push if you denied.

“Maybe later,” you sighed as you made eye contact with Ellie. You blushed a little at the wink she threw your way. They mistook it as you getting shy over your crush’s attention being on you.

“Nawww,” Alexia cooed. “Te estás poniendo tímida debido a tu enamoramiento?” She teased lightly, pinching your bright red cheek. This was it, the perfect timing.

“Is it still a crush if she’s your girlfriend?” You asked, smirking at the two of them before running away into the crowd.

You and Ellie watched at the chaos you caused amongst the players. She had pulled on her home kit, which she had slipped into her bag before she left. She wanted to stand out for you on the pitch, but she knew that being in a stark white top might not be the best thing if she needed to hide from the wrath of some players. You sat further back in the stadium, laughing as Alexia made the rounds, clearly informing people of what you had so casually announced. You could imagine what each one was saying. You acted it out for Ellie, mimicking the disbelieving voices of Patri and Pina, the shocked ones of Irene and Paños. Your favourite person to mock was Mapí – she stood, mouth open, arms by her side as Ingrid told her the news. You don’t think you’d ever seen her speechless before.

“C’mon, we best get going.” You said, standing up and offering her your hand.

“We?” She asked, shocked.

“I’m not dropping that bomb on them, then hiding for 20 minutes and then returning alone.” You explained, thinking your reasoning was obvious.

“You’re crazy if you think I’m going in there after you said that, then ran away for 20 minutes.” She looked at you, mouth open and eyes wide. “They’ll eat me alive.”

“Nonsense. If anything, they’ll be happy I finally asked the hermoso desconocido to be my hermosa novia.” You smirked, extending your hand again and wiggling your eyebrows.

“I still don’t know what you said,” Ellie grumbled, taking your hand.

“Don’t worry, mi diosa. We have plenty of time for me to teach you.”

I hope you liked it <3<3<3

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loaksbitch · 2 years

Text

originally jake sully written but made a neteyam ver. let's go let's go.

warnings - size kink, tummy bulging, spitting, breast play kinda, getting your hands held behind you, toruk makto neteyam is enough to be a freaking warning yes? riding, whiny and crying oc, neteyam whimpers like once of twice if you squint, mean neteyam turns to soft neteyam at the end

this is roughly 2k y'all, so idk what to feel about it! reblog + likes are appreciated and not pressured, i love each and every one of you!! mwah. 20ish toruk makto!neteyam

“i’ll make it fit” — neteyam sully ver. (⨳)

you’re finally satisfied with your work, twirling around with a smile. the leaves you made as a sexy cloth that barley covered your body didn’t fail you as you feel something if you churn at the thought of greeting your mate with this

neteyam would be back by the eclipse from the war party and you just can’t wait to show him off about your new creations.

the glowing leaves allover your chest and ghosting your nipples as they reflect their light on your blue striped soft skin. and there’s a web like cloth covering you down there that clearly shows the jewels between your leg.

as the night came on, you couldn’t help but feel nervous and insecurity starts to sip in you.

what if he doesn’t like it? what if he’ll laugh at you? what if— enough! you try to focus on your breath. “it’s gonna turn out good.” you comfort yourself. your ears suddenly perk when you catch a familiar footsteps getting near and near to the hammock you share with your mate and decide to hide quickly

meanwhile you’re hidden, neteyam couldn’t keep feeling instant worries when he didn’t see you at the welcoming session. were you sick? he tried to ask your friends but they just shrugged and said they didn’t see you the whole day

neteyam admits he was pretty excited to see you and waited for you to shower him with kisses to make him feel better and less stressed but no, you weren’t even there.

it was dark when he entered the hammock and frowned, the candles were blown out and everything is neatly set. “princess?” neteyam’s voice was calculated with worries. “i’m home, where are you?”

you’re nervously shuffling from one foot to another. “baby if this is one of your jokes you know i’m tir–“ neteyam’s words get stuck when you come to view. at first he was about to load his gun but the feminine and petite body of yours appears in front of him and your man’s breath hitched at the sight of you

your braids were undone and flawlessly splayed allover your shoulders, his eyes are trained down your body and neteyam curses under his breath as his cock stirs and twitches. the valley between your chest and your two swelled breast shown under the glowing leaves you’re wearing

then his eyes go down to your hip curves and small waist and finally to your thighs that he wants to be choked with. “ma ‘teyam.” your sexy voice makes his ears flatten and he closes his eyes. “fuck princess, what’re you supposed to be doing right now?”

you shyly glance behind him then at him. your eyes widen when the equipments are harshly thrown to the side on the hammock mat and neteyam is walking to you with a burning lust in his eyes

“i’ll just tak…” neteyam’s teeth clash to yours as he shuts you up with toe curling kiss. you can’t even form a word when he’s pulling you by your cheeks and neck desperate to have more of you. you turn your head to the side to take a breath but neteyam takes the chance to leave wet kisses on your neck as he bites and licks the spot, marking you in ways that makes you sigh.

“you didn’t come to welcome me baby,” he says before pressing his forehead to yours while you two take deep breathes from the kiss you’ve shared. “i was searching for you” he slightly pouts making you guilty

“sorry baby, i had to make a welcoming present for you.” he hums with a smile plastered on his face. “this is the best gift ever.” he leans to kiss you as he bends slightly and grip onto your thighs

“jump, pretty girl.” you only giggle before jumping to your mate’s hold. he starts to kiss you and you devilishly mess with his hair. you run your hands through it and grip on his locks hard making neteyam moan into your mouth.

as your body settles to the thick mat of the hammock and neteyam pushes your legs open to settle himself in between them, you start to feel a little too insecure. “i’ve dreamt of this for so long baby, you’ve no idea.” you gulp when he continues

“having you under me, on top of me, in every fucking position with this glowing like loincloth you made allover you.” he tells you softly, his lips pressed on the corner of your lips.

you try to sit up and go along with his kiss but neteyam leans back and pushes you back to the mat, making you huff out. you’re watching every move of his when he starts to trail kisses on your chest.

“nete, jus–“

you moan when his mouth engulfs your perked nipple with his warm mouth and sucks gently. “neteyam, ma ‘teyeam…” you sigh, tiny hands returning to his locks. his other hand is holding the glowing leaves that were covering your breast out of the way before starting to massage your breast well and let your nipple roll between his fingers.

it felt so good that had you arching your back, chest pressing to his face. neteyam leaves your nipple with small ‘pop’ sound and watches how his saliva reflects to glowing leaves lights on your nipple. “stay still baby.” he shifts his attention to the other nipple and starts to slowly tug it with his teeth before putting his whole mouth onto your nipple

“oh eywa!” you sigh.

“princess?” you’re gasping when he’s on top of you and gently smiling. “i want you to touch me too, i want you to show me how i make you feel with your hands, yeah?” you’re only able to nod while your mate is fully clothed and you’re almost naked

“good girl.”

you feel him start to trail a kiss down your stomach a to your navel. once he was in front of your web like fabric that’s covering your pussy, he closes his eyes and takes a breath before using his teeth to slide off the web like loincloth from your body.

you can imagine how his erected cock is begging to be free and looking for attention.

neteyam used his hand to rip off the fabric that’s being a wall from getting what he wanted and deep growl from he chest haves when he sees your arousal creating a thin line and connected to the fabric. oh how he wanted to devour you so bad

the thing is removed from your legs and thrown to the side and neteyam presses your legs wider to see your folds slowly open and your clit throb. oh how your scent is driving him nuts. “you’re so wet.” he says and you’re about to talk before he wraps his mouth on your clit and starts to suck. hard.

“NETEYAM!” you cry out, half of your body jolting up when he tugs on your clit with his teeth. you feel him take a long sniff and moan before plunging his tongue to your hole. “oh mother,” your long moan makes his ego boost and he keeps lapping your juices

your hands are on his locks now, tugging hard and grinding him onto your pussy, but his glare was telling you he wants to drag you there by himself.

your hips risen and gets pressed down with your mate’s large palm below your navel. “let me make you cum.” was the only thing he said before ruining you. his nose grinding onto your throbbing clit while he laps your arousal clean with his tongue fucking you deep.

“ngh..!” you’re now pushing his head away but one strong hand grabs yours and throws it to the side. he’s getting frustrated when you keep pushing him away from making you happiest woman alive.

your chest having up and down was a sign to tell him you’re almost there, and neteyam grins in the middle of tongue fucking you. “that’s it baby, cum for me. cum for your ‘teyam.” and you let go.

back arched, you let go of the bubble in your stomach.

neteyam? he’s so mesmerized by your state and how you’re gushing his face had him completely bricked up right now.

neteyam crawls the mat until he’s your face level and your cheeks redden from the sight. his lips and chin is glistening from your release that shines from the light directly coming out from the moon. neteyam used his arm to wipe your arousal from his face.

he didn’t waste anytime as he unties his loincloth and throw it to the side. your inside clenches at the sight of your man’s cock as it sprang and slaps his stomach before bouncing at the freedom.

it’s veiny and you can’t help but moan when neteyam uses his own hands to bring his cock down and palm himself. “so fucking sexy you are.” he tells you as he stares to your soul, “you drive me insane, everything about you… drives me insane.” he whines when his thumb gilded over his own slit.

“shit, need to be inside you.” at his words you spread your legs wide but frown when neteyam shook his head and got out from in between your legs. “where are you going?” he wasn’t even going anywhere

your confused state follows his actions and neteyam lies beside you on his back and turns to you, tapping you thigh. “c’mere” he pulls you to him and your eyes widen understanding his request. “n-no.” you’re only ignored before you feel yourself being pulled and sat on him.

you’re now straddling him as you’re sat right above his blue throbbing cock. “you’re gonna be so deep like this” you say trying to change his mind but your words only turn him on. “mhm, it’s gonna be okay.”

“‘teyam, it won’t fit…” you persist and try to get up but neteyam pulls you down. “i’ll make it fit.” your inside clenches. “oh,” your mouth opens for a loud moan when neteyam squeezes your ass and split them for his hard and angry tip to enter you.

“swallow me just like that, fuck yeah baby.” you winch every second you welcome him inside you. it’s not like you guys haven’t had sex recently, you both did fuck yesterday morning but he’s so big you’ve to readjust him and take him well every time he fucks in to yo-

“neteyam!” you gasp out when he thrusts upward and chuckles when you slap his chest hard. “you’re so slow, princess and i told ya i need to be inside you.” you whimper when he runs his hand up to your thighs and hips then waist and grips you right there.

you feel his girth kiss the opening of your cervix and your toes curl. “that’s it baby, relax for me” you’re taking deep breath and your man feels your walls relax around him. “arch your back and ride me.” he deadpans

you nod, eyes wide and adjust yourself on top of him enough to lean and use the wooden drawer behind him as a leverage but you instantly let a sharp scream out them neteyam ruts to you up again but this time harder

“nuh-uh princess.” he licks his lips and sighs in between strangled moan. “i said back arched.” his brows are knitted and his face serious. “need you to ride me with your back arched.”

you’re about to curse him before he raise an eyebrow as a warning.

you lick your lips and decide to be a good girl by arching you back and using your hands to support you by placing them on his chest. you’re slow but start to move your hips and neteyam nods while moaning

“yeah that’s it my girl, fuck me just like that.” you can’t even say a word at his praising that are like a pat on your head. your unintentional clench only pushes him to the edge every time you’re moving on top of him.

“you’re so tight.” he tells you with a breathless moan as you raise up and kneel before sinking down his length. “mhm,” you both moan. you’re shuddering above him with every move you make and you try to lean in to him.

“back arched, fuck me back arched princess” he repeats, he’s so gonna be the death of you.

you’re too unfocused to hear him and eventually lean. “fucking little brat.” neteyam hisses before bringing his body up and kneeling as you’re sat on his strong thighs while he’s inside you

you feel him bring both of your hands to your back and holds them both with one hand while the other lands on your waist and pushes you to his chest. you’re now bent in half, breast pressed to him and hands held behind you

you close your eyes tight when you feel neteyam so much deeper than before and you’re sure you can feel your tummy bulged out with his cock like that.

“look at me.”

you didn’t think twice before opening your yellow eyes and look straight to his. “not gonna tell you again or imma have to break you alright?” his tone is serious. “you ride me with your back arched got it?” you’re awfully silent but yelp as he tugs your hands that’s behind you

“yes!” you gasp but he wasn’t buying your whining self. “yes what?” he huffs “yes! yes sir” your forehead is sweating and you let a relieved sigh out when he loosens his grip on yours but doesn’t completely lets you go

with your back arched, you start to bounce on his dick and hear him mutter sweet nothings to your ear. “ma ‘teyam”, you’re whimpering at this point, tears threatening to fall.

you moan while neteyam leans and boldly licks your mouth and starts to thrust, wildly moving his hips. “n-no wait don’t move!”

you’re trying to free your hand to push him away but neteyam only tightens his hands on your small ones. “trying to escape now, are we?” his chest roars with a chuckle. “you think i’ll let you go right after you greet me with that slutty cloth of yours?” you feel him nudge your nose with his.

“mhm?” you shake your head, “no s-sir…oh mother eywa!” you keep gasping for air while neteyam keeps kissing you. you try to turn your face away from him but his one hand comes to grip your jaw at a place. “stop turning away from my love to you.” he’s so romantic yet wicked.

neteyam ruts to you while ruining you and he leans back to see where you both are connected, your skin slapping and squelching sound helps him get near his orgasm. with one last look at your face, neteyam sucks onto his own mouth and collect a glob of spit

you’re whining messy when his spit directly hits your exposed clit, “ma ‘teyam...” you cry out and by the sound you’re letting out and your erratic movement he knew you’re close

“let it out, baby.” he smiles as he fucks into you. “cum for me” you wanted to tell him at least to stop when you’re cumming but his tortures can’t even let you think of a word, your brain is completely mushed.

you gush out on his cock and neteyam throws his head back when he feels you milk him good. “oh fuck fuck fuck i’m close.”

you watch him with blurry eyes and black dots covering your vision as your body keeps jolting.

“tell me you love me baby.” his harsh breath hits your lips when he pressed his forehead against yours. “tell me you love me so fucking much hm?”

“i- i lov…i love you” you’re gasping for air and neteyam closes his eyes a happy smile stretching his lips. “i love you more, i love you so fucking much” you feel his hand that was holding your hand being you let’s you go and you instantly wrap your hands on his neck

“‘m sorry i hurt you princess.” neteyam says, tucking your hair behind your ear and you just nod too tired to talk back. “i’m gonna cum” his eyes flatten and he whispers. “cum for me” you tell him and he obeys

it was his last push when you said that word and neteyam shoots ropes of cum inside you. “you’re tiny and adorable when you struggle against me” he growls trying to recover from his orgasm

“and you looked beautiful tonight.” you giggle and shy yourself away from him. “hm, no look at me when i tell you how amazing you’re.” he kisses your nose.

“i love you” he whispers still inside you. “i love you too.” you kiss him.

neteyam rolls his eyes at your confession, “don’t say ‘too’ it feels like you’re just agreeing with me to feel good.” he’s so dramatic sometimes, “fine, i love you more.” neteyam suddenly gives you a hard thrust and you whine. “‘teyam i’m sore!” you tell him

“hm, sorry but i love you most and you know that.”

you don’t fight back at this point, you just agree and tell him to clean you up and go to bed.

sprinkles pandora’s holy water on y’all thirsty bitches out there who’s twinning with me 👯‍♂️

5K notes · View notes

chuluoyi · 7 months

Text

UNHOLY MATRIMONY — 12

✩°｡ ⋆ the most twisted curse

- fushiguro megumi x oc/reader - oc/reader's character name is hara sena, pronouns still refer to “you” and i won’t mention it often—just for the sake of aesthetic rather than repeatedly writing "y/n"

in another life, in which fate is still screwing his life over, Fushiguro Megumi finds himself in an arranged marriage―with you.

genre/warnings: arranged marriage au, drama, heavy angst, description of major injury and blood, hurt/comfort (or no comfort?), there is one fluff scene! :))

notes: next chapter will be the last <3

series masterlist | next. seize your happiness

Megumi stopped in his tracks in horror.

Blood. There was so much blood. It was everywhere, painting everything in angry scarlet―

And you. In the middle of it.

"Sena..." The pounding of his heart was deafening, drowning anything else. It started from his hands, and slowly but unmistakably, his entire body began to tremble with terror— "Sena!"

He was late. When he arrived to the Zen’in mansion, everything was in shambles. The disciplinary chamber reeked of blood and destruction, Naoya’s pallid corpse and—

He quickly made his way to where you were, and felt his throat closing in.

Your face was battered and bruised, your lips were torn and blood streamed down your torso as if it were a cascading waterfall. Your right leg was twisted into an unnatural angle, and everything else was simply—

You looked absolutely broken.

"Damn it, fuck—"

With panic seeping in, Megumi couldn't think straight. He brought you to his arms, and with the movement, he could feel the stickiness of your blood staining him, the stench filling his lungs, and he almost wheezed as a result.

“You… why…” the hands that were holding you trembled, both with fear and genuine fury.

Fear, because he was losing you with each second he wasn’t able to get you to the help faster. Fury, because he had left you so unprotected that you ended up in this state.

It was more towards himself. All things prior this day be damned. Megumi hated himself with each second. He would be able to stand against Naoya, and in case he couldn’t then he still had his final card through Mahoraga, but you?

You couldn’t go against him and he didn’t mean it in belittling way. Naoya was known for his speed and offensive prowess, and you weren’t built for that. He would totally wreck you first before you could unleash your fatal technique—which he assumed what happened since you were able to take him out in the end.

But that didn’t matter anymore. Not when you were dying like this, before Megumi was able to say anything to you.

Last time he saw you, you were crying for him not to go. He tried many times to banish that image away from his mind because it was so vivid. He remembered how sobs wracked your body as he left you with the most hurtful parting words:

“It’s done. We’re done. I don’t want to see you ever again.”

It was almost like a curse. He really never saw you again before now. And now, he wasn’t even sure if you were still alive at all.

No, that was indeed a curse.

The voice in his mind whispered many things he tried to mute the past few weeks. He had cursed you—and perhaps, himself too—and now he was left with the consequences.

“No, no...” he said in a broken whisper as he had a look over your state. "I'm begging you—"

In his arms was the only girl he had loved. He never wanted any harm to come to you, despite everything that had gone down. That decision to pull out the divorce papers too—a part of him had hoped that with cutting all ties with you, it would free you from all of this mess too.

“Hang in there—!”

But you weren’t responsive at all. He couldn’t even feel you breathing. He felt like picking up a doll, a destroyed one, with the way your head lolled lifelessly in his arms.

Megumi didn’t really know what was worse—the guilt or the pain in his chest. But he kept trekking forward even as the his eyes burned with tears, with your bloodied form in his hold.

Because for all he knew, no matter what happened onwards, his world had ended right where you were.

When he handed you over to the emergency room, he was struck once more by just how vividly red everything was.

His hands, arm, and shirt were drenched in your blood. Megumi stood numbly before the sliding doors, ears still ringing from Ieiri Shoko’s harsh barks to her assistants, the sight of you being taken away again beyond the door left a burning sensation in his throat.

You had shed so much blood, would you still pull through?

He didn’t know how much time had passed since he brought you here. It felt like a long of time, and he knew it to be true when Gojo arrived at Shoko's clinic with the sun already dipping low on the horizon. He didn’t know why though, perhaps his longtime friend was the one contacting him.

“Megumi, are you okay?” he immediately asked upon seeing him on sight, slumped with his head low. He grabbed his shoulder, turning him to face him directly.

Megumi looked up to his former mentor slowly, almost as if he was paralyzed. Eyes empty, with your blood still covering him—he hadn't made any attempt to wash it off.

“Megumi, come on. You have to clean yourself—”

“Gojo-sensei…” he suddenly croaked, throat dry. “I have to be here…”

“Go wash yourself first—”

Those words were the tipping point. His pent-up fury suddenly exploded at that moment—

“Get off me!”

Megumi pushed him away with such strength that Gojo nearly fell onto his backside, only managing to stay upright because of his good reflexes.

"Why does it matter to you?" Megumi spat out, anger seething between his clenched teeth. "How can I possibly think about cleaning up when—when, she’s i-inside… and I can't even tell if she's still alive or not?!”

“Megumi—”

“Why… why do you have to agree to that binding vow?” right now Megumi just wanted to blame anything—anyone, everyone, this accursed world, and even himself. The burning in his chest was scalding, making his voice tight with emotion. “Why do you agree to something that could make her put her life in danger?!”

“...”

"Why! Just why!" The tears he'd been holding back finally broke free, cascading down his cheeks as he let out a howl that echoed through the deserted hospital corridor.

Gojo could only stare at him in silence, pondering the irony of the situation. You, who wanted to end everything out of your love for him, and Megumi, who wanted to cut you out of this mess and never wanted you to be involved in the first place. Both of you meant the best for each other—protecting each other through your own ways.

Gojo wouldn't be able to go against any of Megumi's wishes from now on. Because once again, he knew what it was.

How love is the most twisted curse of all.

You... are always so pretty.

In your sorcerer's uniform. In the morning when you just woke up. The night you cried.

In each and every image Megumi had of you, you were always beautiful. But there was one poignant sight that stood out, where you were most breathtaking... and that was during your wedding day.

You were the very picture of a dream bride. Wrapped in that white silk kimono, brushed by the traditional make up and hairdo—he could've sworn he had never seen anyone so stunning before you in his entire life. And the fact that you had appeared out of nowhere in his life one day, only to become his bride, filled him with even greater wonder.

You were beautiful then... but there was something about you he didn't quite like still.

You appeared ashen, almost as though you were ill. You looked like someone would hound you if you weren't there. And above all, you looked unhappy.

—which was hauntingly similar to your appearance now. Beneath the pristine, unblemished hospital blanket, you looked exceedingly pale and lifeless, with the beeping of the machine serving as the only assurance he had that you were still here.

You appeared as though you were merely sleeping, but when he reached out to grasp your hand in his, it felt chillingly cold. It didn't feel like you—an eerie sensation as foreign as the stab of pain he felt in his chest.

"Hey..." his voice came out in a faint whisper as his eyes quietly looked you over. "Are you... still there?"

Beep… Beep… Beep…

"You're not in pain anymore... right?" he asked into the empty, thin air.

It was cruel to him that you looked absolutely at peace, with how your eyes tightly shut and your eyelashes not even once fluttered. If this was your way of punishing him for leaving you, then it was incredibly, irrevocably cruel.

But you wouldn't. Megumi knew you wouldn't. Because you trusted him, until the very end. Even when he left.

He gritted his teeth, feeling his heart break once again. "If you're there... then please... just wake up."

Beep... Beep... Beep...

"...I'm sorry. I'm sorry for leaving you—I'm sorry... for..."

Beep... Beep... Beep...

"—for letting you get hurt..."

Beep... Beep... Beep...

"You... shouldn't. But why—you—" The lump in his throat choked off his words. "...damn—"

Beep... Beep... Beep...

"I love you."

He pushed through to utter those words, a tear trailing down his cheek, because in that moment, he truly didn't know what else there was to say.

"I love you... so please... just wake up already. I want to say sorry—and that this time for sure... I won't leave you ever again. I will protect you... I w-will... protect you with everything I've got, so just—!"

It hurts so much. Seeing you like this, not responding to anything he said. You were just there, suspended between life and death, and he couldn't do anything about it.

And so, in that hollow, silent hospital room, he released all his cries, hopelessness, and regrets— with no one there to witness his anguish.

Upon learning what had happened, Hana's immediate instinct was to reach Megumi's side.

She dashed through the bustling hospital corridors, disregarding anything and everything in her way—even when she bumped into people, she only muttered a brisk apology and went on her way.

She didn't really know what she was looking for. Her naivety merely spurred her to search for him. It didn't really register to her that you were hurt to the point of possibly dying. For one, she just couldn't really believe it was from the warning you left her, and another part of her was overwhelmed with fear at the thought of Megumi venturing into that barred area.

"Aww, don't trip, miss."

Hana halted on the spot, quickly turning her head towards the source—and came the second most shocking event that happened to her today.

Everyone knows this person. The pinnacle of jujutsu society. Someone so elusive and jarring that it was a wonder that he took in a disgraced Zen'in in the first place.

Gojo Satoru's lips curled into a crude smile. "No one inside is going anywhere you know. Might be better if you slow down and catch your breath."

"Where's Megumi?" she asked almost immediately, and yet to her surprise, he only chuckled.

"He's absolutely fine, you know. Anyone hearing will mistake him for being the one in a near-death situation."

So it's true. You didn't seem to be faring well at all. "Did you see him just now?"

"Ha." Gojo let out a snort. "Miss, are you really sure you want to see him right now?"

Okay, even Hana couldn't pretend to be amiable anymore. Gojo really and truly lived up to his outrageous reputation of being a public annoyance. "What are you trying to say? I'm just worried for him. Where is he?"

"He's inside, here." he gestured towards the door next to him with a tilt of his chin. "But honestly, I'd recommend you not go in."

"And why should I listen to you?"

"Because I know things best? Heh."

Hana wasn't having this any longer. He went past Gojo and turned the knob open, stalking inside—

And then, suddenly, she felt numb.

Megumi was asleep in an uncomfortable position at the edge of your bed—his face marked by dried tears, and his grip tight around your hand. Once again, Kurusu Hana felt her heart sink, reminiscent of the first day she encountered him in that small café, seeing him dragging you by your hand.

Deep down, she knew it. That it's stupid to hope for more—to hope for your marriage to utterly fail to make space for her in his life.

...because no matter how, even when everything crumbled into dust, she never really stood a chance, did she?

"Megumi! Show me your rabbits!"

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow. On one night after he just went back from work, all he wanted was to have a rest, not using more cursed energy. "For what?"

You pouted. "They're cute, I want to play with them!"

"...no. I'm tired."

"You..." you widened your eyes in surprise. "It's me! Your very dutiful wife, how can you not fulfill her wish?!"

"Dutiful? Nah. I can think of 10 instances in which you are anything but obedient."

There was something about you pleading with him that made his heart soft. He was a goner the very moment you pursed your lips. But messing with you always brought a smile to his face, and for the sake of teasing, he declined you. At least, until you turned away from him with an indignant "Hmph!"

Megumi let out a small chuckle. "Look here."

"Don't want to!"

"Oh? You won't see them then."

You quickly snapped your head back towards him, and right before you—voila!—there appeared a swarm of his rabbits.

"Whoa!" your eyes shone with excitement, like a kid. "Whoa, whoa! Come here! Cute rabbits, come to meee~"

And in that moment, as his chest swelled with warmth, he thought that if all it took to see your smile was to conjure rabbits, then he was willing to do just that for the rest of his life.

. . .

Megumi woke up with a jerk.

The first sensation he registered was the coldness of his feet. Following that realization, it hit him—there were no rabbits, none of your smile, he was in your room, and the coolness from your hand still clung to his skin.

He glanced over at you, and his heart bled once more.

You still looked as serene as before.

You had a nostalgic dream.

Everything you saw in those fragmented scenes were your real memories. Your childhood. Grimmer days you'd much prefer to keep away.

You were never the favored child, and your mother—a mistress—was in a less favorable situation.

It was always the same routine that you didn't really feel hurt anymore. Your stepsisters were born entitled—they never really treated you that kindly, and with your father being the passive being he was, you never really tried to voice your grievance.

"Mama, when will we move out of here?" you inquired one day, your head resting in her lap while she gently stroked your hair. You were barely fourteen back then, still struggling with newfound knowledge of curses and how they exist in your already muddled world.

Your only friend, your only supporter who made everything bearable—who taught you love... was your mother, who loved you with everything she had.

"Hmm? Do you not like it here?" she asked you with a small smile, as if to encourage you to elaborate more.

"I hate it here," you stressed, biting your lower lip. "Everything is cursed."

"Hush, Sena! You have to be careful with your words."

You looked away, not really guilty though. You might not be able to bash your shitty father, but you could definitely curse some things.

"Are you happy living like this, Mama?" you found yourself asking, feeling a wave of sadness wash over you. It seemed so unjust that you and your mother were treated as lesser individuals on a daily basis. Why did you have to endure this fate?

"Me?" she seemed to ponder a bit before nodding. "Of course. You're here, of course I'm happy."

"Even when they are awful to us?"

"Mm-hmm. Don't pay them any mind. Being here is better then out there."

"I don't think so. I think out there is most likely far better than this."

Your mother didn't answer, but she kept her thin smile, still combing her hands through your hair fondly.

At that stage in your life, you believed your mother had simply resigned herself to her circumstances. She needed the Hara clan to survive, and you too as much as you wanted to deny it—a fact that irritated you to some degree.

It would take many years and much reflection for you to understand that the bigger part that played in her decision to stay, enduring all the unpleasantness that came with being a mistress, was for your sake—to give you the best.

"One day," your voice was a little louder than a whisper, but carried a certain resolve that your mother couldn't help but notice. "I'll take both of us away from this hellhole, and only then will we truly be happy."

You really thought she'd finally drop the facade and go along with your idea, so her rebuke left you speechless. "No," she said firmly.

"Why?!"

"That must not be your only goal in life, Sena," her smile faded. "You... need to have other plans, not just to escape from here and then be left with nothing afterwards."

"But—!"

"Maybe you're too young to understand this, but please always keep this in mind, from now onwards," your mother sighed softly. "You... must not live your life for me. You need to be your own person. And most importantly, you can't turn out like me."

"Mama, you're—" you shot up into a sitting position. "Why—"

"You have to lead a better life than me." Her smile returned as she spoke her next words. "Freer. Happier. With more love. When the time comes when you can freely choose how you want to live your life, I want you to use that chance to the fullest."

You didn't really understand. Not really, back then.

But now...

“I want you to chase after what makes you happy the most. Seize your happiness.” She was impossibly gentle that it brought tears to your eyes. “In whatever form it might be, regardless of how I am in that moment, please choose only for yourself.”

Seize your happiness… now that you thought about it. It finally made sense.

When your father was about to sell you off to Naoya, your mother tried so many ways to ward you off. She wanted to remove the obstacle for you—namely herself, with fervent hope you would be free even when she had to be stuck in that hell you called home.

And so, now… is this finally the chance for you to chase after your happiness? But how? What does ‘happiness’ mean to you now that you were left with nothing and that even Megumi hates you?

Still those three words resonated deep within you. If they said that curses are born of human’s strong emotions, then most likely your mother too could manifest a curse. She wanted you to live.

. . .

Against all odds out there, finally—

You blinked your eyes open slowly.

And the first thing that entered your eyesight is —

next : seize your happiness

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 4 months

Text

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 17: How Could I Ever Forget?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy. This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter seventeen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 9.1K

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing, Angst, Past Violence reference, Soft Ben, Fluff, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC, Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Additional Warning: Soldier Boy is again, super OC and fluffy in this chapter. If you do not like that, you probably shouldn't read this?

****************************************

Guide

Rosemary's Phone

Reader's Phone

*****************************************

You sigh softly as you wake, the light from under your curtains illuminates your bedroom and sends a warm glow over your bed. You had never been a morning person. The only motivation you ever had to get out of bed was the hope of a cup of strong coffee waiting for you in the kitchen. But as you lay there, mind still a little cloudy from sleep you can't help but think that something feels different, that you've forgotten something important.

Maybe a shower will make me remember.

Instinctively you start to move towards the edge of your bed to get up, but something heavy tightens its grip around your chest making it impossible to move from its embrace.

What?

“Where are you going?” Ben’s voice is slurred and muffled against the pillow behind you.

The events of the night before begin to surface from the sweet haze of sleep, Ben showing up, you yelling at him, him bringing you lavender and saying everything you always wanted him to, and finally him holding you while you cried. You still weren’t sure that last part happened. That or Ben's ability to open his heart to you and tell you what he was feeling rather than reverting back into the cold attitude he adopted as Soldier Boy. In fact, you hadn't seen one shred of Soldier Boy yesterday, you'd only seen Ben, and deep down you hoped that you'd never see Soldier Boy ever again.

“Stay.” He murmurs, pulling your back into his muscular chest. “Please.”

His body is wrapped around yours, shielding you from your door, face buried in your hair, while one arm rests around your abdomen and the other is somewhere above your head bracing against the headboard. It feels natural and it makes anxiety electrify your veins.

Because what if he was going to leave again?

You turn your head to look over your shoulder.

Ben’s head is laying on the same pillow yours is, his eyes are closed, and his hair is falling forward into his peaceful face. Deep down another memory of this exact scenario surfaces, of you waking up before him when you were children and wishing that he wanted this as much as you did. Of course now he said he had wanted you the entire time time, and that he wasn’t going to leave, but deep down you dreaded what would happen when he opened his eyes.

Would he go cold again? Push me away? Say that he didn't mean any of it?

You try not to think that. You wanted him to mean all of it. You wanted him to fix it, to make it like it was before, make everything like the morning you woke up on his chest and he smiled down at you like you were everything he ever wanted. You wanted every day of your life to start that way, to be fused with wonder, love, and expectation. That morning you had woken up on his chest after your birthday, was one of the happiest memories you had, but what followed those few moments of happiness tore your heart out.

He said he wanted to fix this, that he wanted to be with me. You bite the inside of your cheek. He’s lied before. The thought fills you with dread.

“You’re thinking too much.” Ben sighs opening one green eye to stare at you. It’s a light green from sleep, but just as piercing as usual.

“I am not.”

Sometimes you though that Ben was psychic, because he was always able to read you, the same way that you always had been able to read him. Even when you were kids Ben was always able to tell what you were thinking, not to mention he always had a habit of showing up whenever you needed him.

Ben chuckles and opens his other eye. “I know you better than anyone else Sweetheart.”

“Maybe a little.” You admit.

“Hmm.”

You turn in his arms so you can look at his face and Ben adjusts his arm to drop over the curve of your hip, gently brushing his fingertips against you the base of your spine. But you don’t smile.

“What is it?” He whispers moving his face closer with a soft smile that tugs at something in your chest. “You can tell me.”

“You know.” You don't meet his eyes, the sour feeling in your chest growing with your confession as you level your gaze at his chin.

“Oh.” Ben's smile drops into a frown.

“It’s a little weird. That you’re here and you want to be-“

“I do.”

“I know. But I keep waiting for you to leave again, for you to push me away.” You hate that you have to say it out loud, but he might as well know what you're thinking. He needs to understand how much he hurt you and how worried you were about that. It was worse to keep it inside. That's what you had been doing for the better part of 40 years and now that it was all out in the open you did feel a little better, but it still hung on your heart.

“I don’t want to leave you-"

“I know that. Or at least a part of me does. The other part…” You trail off.

Ben is quiet for a minute, before he brings his hand up to brush away the strands of your hair that have fallen into your eyes. “Do you still want me here?” His expression turns pained when he asks it, voice barely above a whisper.

You look at him, tracing the strong jaw you’d memorized, the unruly brown hair that you always wished to run you fingers through, the proud arch of his brow, and the gentle bow of his lips. “Yes.” You answer honestly. "I do."

Ben looks relieved. "Then I won't leave."

The weight of those words grounds you to this moment. He wants to be here. He doesn't want to go.

"How'd you sleep?" His right hand is still tracing your spine in smooth comforting circles over the back of your soft t-shirt.

"Good. Did you sleep?"

"Better than I have in forty years."

"I figured." You smile faintly. You allow your hands to rest on his chest, just over his heart between you so you can feel the steady beat against your fingertips. It solidified the fact that he was here with you. You stop the urge to trace your finger across his muscles, but instead focus on the warmth that soaks through his shirt into the palms of your hands. "Probably should get a little more sleep, those dark circles look like bruises." You trace the prominent purple marks that curve beneath his eyes.

You think about everything Ben told you about the lab that he was a prisoner in, all the experiments and torture he went through believing that he deserved it.

He didn't. You think to yourself as you search his face, noting again that Ben looks the same, but also different. I wonder if I'm the same way. Then again I didn't go through forty years of unrelenting torture in a Russian Lab.

The thought makes anger surge against your skin. When you were with Countess you had felt a little guilty about losing control, but now you reveled in it. She deserved more than what I did to her. If I had known what she did to Ben, I would have made it hurt.

You think about Noir, the TNT Twins, and MindStorm. You had been happy to lose touch with them after everything that happened with Ben, happy to leave behind the life you had when you were on Payback, but now you weren't sure. Ben telling you how they betrayed him made you reconsider your life in the shadows, made you reconsider turning your back on your powers. Because they deserved the same thing you did to Countess.

"I was trying to, but somebody woke me up." Ben rolls his eyes at you, bringing you out of your thoughts of your teammates. "I remember you hating mornings as much as I do. Why are you awake?”

"I do hate mornings, but coffee makes them tolerable. Plus, I really need to take a shower."

"Oh good. I didn’t want to say anything but you really stink." Ben teases with a smirk.

"Wow." You scoff. "Big talk coming from the guy who smells like reefer, whiskey, and week old motel."

"You’re right I should probably take a shower too. But I’ll let you go first. Seems like the gentlemanly thing to do." Ben's smirk coupled with the mischievous glint in his eyes makes your heart warm. It was familiar in the best way. You didn't realize how much you missed it, how much you missed him. You'd tried to forget of course, how much you needed him in your life, how much you longed for him to be with you, and how much your friendship meant to you.

"Oh are you calling yourself a gentleman now? Because-"

“I am as much a gentleman as you are a lady and we both know that it’s a close tie.”

“Uh-huh sure.” You roll your eyes. "Maybe I would have been a lady if someone hadn't gotten me kicked out of the Dawson School For Girls."

"I never heard a thank you for that." Ben shrugs. His hand continues to circle at the base of your spine, his touch trailing warmth up your back. You weren't prepared for his touch to do the same thing to you that it did forty years ago.

It made you forget everything else, but him and it scared you. Because again you could feel yourself opening up to him, could feel yourself beginning to depend on him being there with you.

"I'll be sure to write you a thank you note."

“Hmm." Ben breathes. "Don’t use all the hot water.”

“Since this is my apartment and I pay for the water I feel that I should be entitled to use most of it.”

“Are you saying that I have to write you a check to take a shower?”

“Yep.”

“You’re fucking annoying.” Ben rolls his eyes at you playfully.

“I know. I’ve got forty years of sarcasm to make up for, so, might as well get used to it.” You smirk tapping him on the nose.

“I look forward to it.” Ben smiles back.

You try to get out of your bed again, but Ben tightens his grip on your waist pulling you back against his chest so that your faces are inches apart.

“Ben, I can't take a shower if you're holding me hostage." You joke pushing against his chest.

Ben leans his forehead against yours, making the next taunt vanish from your mind. “I missed you.”

You smile despite your mixed feelings over the two of you and the past forty years. It was hard to hold on to the fear of him pushing you away when he was holding you so close to him and gazing at you the same way he did the morning after he gave you everything you wanted.

“I missed you too.” You reply, gently smoothing a wrinkle in the front of his t-shirt.

It wasn’t a lie. You missed him more than life itself. Not just because you loved him, but because he was your best friend. He knew you inside and out, better than anyone else.

His gaze drops to your lips then flicks up to your eyes and you know what he wants but you're not ready.

“Ben-“ You breathe as he shifts his face closer. “I want to take this slow. I need us to take this slow.”

“I know.” He sighs, but then the edge of his mouth twitches. “That’s why I didn’t make a joke about saving hot water and taking a shower together.”

“Much appreciated.”

“Mhmm. It was difficult not to.” Ben pauses, his expression turns serious. “I’m going to make this right I promise. I’m going to fix this.” It wasn't the first time he'd said it, but it was nice to hear again.

The determination in his voice makes you hopeful. It made you understand that he wasn’t going to give up, even if that meant waiting for you to be ready. He was showing a considerable amount of restraint. The Soldier Boy version of Ben was not gentle or patient, but it made you feel special, as if it was only you that Ben reserved this part of himself for.

“I know.”

“I love you.” His hand comes to cup your cheek, bright green eyes searching yours earnestly.

“I love you too.”

Ben's thumb gently traces across your cheekbone. “Maybe don’t take a shower.”

“You said I stunk.” You reply with a snort, leaning your face into his touch.

“You don’t. I actually think you smell a little like me right now.”

“Oh great-“

It wasn’t that he smelled bad. Ben still smelled like his shampoo and aftershave, but there were a few other smells, all of which were stale, and ones that you attributed to the motel room Butcher made him stay in.

I can’t believe Butcher just left.

You hadn't asked Ben how he got him to leave or really why Butcher was so eager to help Ben get out of Russia.

“I like it. Plus that means you'd have to go and I don't want you to go yet." Ben’s voice softens.

Your eyes widen with his confession.

"Stay.” He whispers. The vulnerability in his eyes is back, striking you full on in the chest. You weren’t used to that, used to him being so open about wanting you, about wanting to be with you. Or really his want to do something so intimate without having sex.

"Okay." You relent and he pulls you closer.

Your hands drift up into his hair before you can stop them, rustling through the chocolate strands, smiling as Ben sighs and presses his head into your right shoulder.

And as conflicted you are about all of this, it does something to you, makes a piece of yourself fit back together that you thought you lost long ago, because you saw that Ben was trying. He was making an effort to fix all of this. And you really hoped that he could.

*****************************************

When you get out of the shower Ben isn't in your bedroom and the dread comes roaring back like an old enemy.

Did he leave?

The thought is immediate, followed by how empty your bedroom looks without him in it.

Shit. How can I be so dependable on him being in here already? Why am I doing this to myself again?

"Ben?" You say cautiously, shaking out your wet hair around your shoulders onto your soft t-shirt.

"Out here." Ben shouts from the kitchen.

The amount of relief you hear when he answers in his warm timbre again makes you anxious, because you hated how much your body responded to him and how quickly you had reinserted him into your life. It was like your heart wanted to break again.

You had opted to put the same clothes on that you had been wearing before because the sweatpants and t-shirt were preferable for a lazy morning and you weren't expecting to go anywhere today.

Well, not really. Then again I might have to go talk to Rosemary. How do I tell her that her dad is back and he showed up at my apartment? Or better yet, how do I tell her that he spent the night?

You press your lips together.

I mean I didn't sleep with him, but I did sleep with him and I don’t think she's going to be ecstatic that he's back in my life. Or our lives? Is she going to actually want him in her life?

You think about what Ben said about not leaving and his want to stay with you.

How am I going to explain any of this to her? She's just going to say that I forgave him and not listen to me. She's just so damn stubborn.

Another thought crosses your mind just as quickly.

How am I going to tell Ben that he’s a dad?

You had considered that exact question in the past, when you wondered what would have happened if Ben hadn’t died. If you would have told him that you were pregnant and if he would have even cared. Especially after everything he said that night and everything he did.

And now that he was back and said he didn’t want to leave, you weren’t sure how to tell him he was a dad. He was still trying to get used to living in the present, not to mention you were still trying to get used to him wanting to be there with you and the idea that he loved you.

But I can’t just avoid Rosemary. She needs to know this, needs to know that he’s back. Why is my life so complicated?

Ben's reply is followed by a loud crashing noise and some muffled curses, that draw you out of your thoughts about your daughter.

"Are you okay?" You run out of your bedroom into the hallway, but stop in shock just as you enter the edge of your living room. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Come on you stupid, fucking thing!" Ben shouts. He’s standing in your kitchen, holding your coffeemaker in a chokehold against his chest, and aggressively jabbing his finger against the digital interface.

“Wait stop! You’re going to break it! And I’ll never forgive you if you break Sully!” You rush over to where he's standing in your kitchen, taking the machine from him and placing it back on the counter. It looks okay, but not having coffee this morning was not an option for you. Not having coffee after the night you'd had meant that someone in the apartment was going to die and it wasn't going to be you.

“Sully?” Ben asks confused.

“The coffeemaker.” You begin to hook it up and type in the normal settings you use, before going to look through your cabinets for the bag of coffee grounds.

I know I still have some in here somewhere.

“You named your coffeemaker?”

“He looks like an Sully." You shrug as you look over at him with a smile.

You didn't tell him that it was Lou that named the coffeemaker after you watched Monster's Inc. with her and she imprinted on the closest blue object.

"And what are you doing?” You ask. The smell of the coffee grounds gives you a jolt of energy as you scoop out the correct amount for the machine.

Ben watches you go through the steps. “I wanted to make you coffee.”

The thought was surprising, given that Ben had never made you coffee, ever. Whenever he woke up at you apartment all those mornings you both either went for coffee at the café down the street, or you made coffee while Ben took a shower.

“It’s okay I’ll do it. It’s a little more high tech than what you’re used to.” You start to push him gently out of the way so you can reach the glass decanter where it sits on the drying rack next to the sink.

“No.” He says firmly, refusing to budge. “I want to know how to make you coffee.”

“Why?”

“Because you love coffee and maybe one morning I’d like to- I don’t know- make you some or something?”

“Do you see yourself in my kitchen? Because that’s something I’d never imagine-“ You try to think of him walking around, making breakfast or dinner but the image doesn’t fit. Ben didn’t know how to cook, not to mention his usual misogynistic attitude usually meant that he never set foot in the kitchen except to find a bottle of booze.

He crosses his arms over his chest defiantly. “Well this is where I live. I imagine that I’d be in the kitchen at some point.”

You freeze, your hand still pressed against his bicep from when you tried to move him out of the way.

“What?” Ben realizes what he’s said. “Oh- um- I know you want to take things slow, but I figured I could just sleep on the couch. I didn’t need to sleep in bed with you like last night. I-“ He scrunches up his face, unsure. “I wasn’t lying when I said I wasn’t going to leave you again and I thought I might as well be living here. But if I assumed wrong I can get an apartment if that makes you more comfortable. I mean I didn’t use the one I had forty years ago, I spent most of my time at your apartment with you and I kinda thought-well-“ He’s watching you with wide eyes. “Fuck. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have assumed-“

Ben was blabbering, nervous despite his inability to admit it, afraid in his own way that you were going to reject him, think him less of a man for revealing how much he wanted you to be in his life. And it does something to you, understanding that you're not the only one who's afraid of what comes next.

You smile at his obvious discomfort, heart clenching to see how much he wants to stay, and recognize how much you don't want him to go. How despite everything, you want him to stay here with you, and that you don't want him to live somewhere else. Because living somewhere else means that you wouldn't wake up in his arms and you wouldn't see his sleepy smile when he first opened his eyes.

You hug him around the waist and tuck your face into the hollow of his throat. “You can live here Ben.” You say, your voice no more than a murmur.

“Are you sure? I know that you don’t want to rush things. You want to take this slow and I understand how important that is to you.“ Ben's hands come up around you to hold you closer to him.

“Kinda hard for you to fix things if you’re living somewhere across town.” You mutter into his shirt, nuzzling your face into the soft fabric. “Plus I like the idea of you bringing me coffee in the morning.”

“And I like the idea of living with you.” He whispers into the top of your head. “So does that mean I’m entitled to hot water?”

“We can discuss terms later. Right now I really need some coffee.” You place you chin on his chest and look up into his deep green eyes.

“So you’ll take payment in the form of coffee?” Ben's smile is contagious.

“Perhaps.”

Ten minutes later Sully is buzzing pleasantly as it brews, glinting blue in the light that streams through the large windows on the opposite side of your apartment, and Ben knows how to use it without swearing and breaking it in half.

He drifts over to the part of your living room that serves as your art studio, examining the canvases splashed with color and the half-full sketchbooks on the large wooden table pressed under the windows. It was messier over there than the rest of your apartment, but you thrived on the mess, thrived on the chaos of art supplies that were scattered over the table top like multicolored fish.

“I followed your advice.” You smile leaning against the counter to watch him. “Started selling my art. It’s selling pretty well. Has been for a while.”

It was still weird that he was here in your apartment. Each time you looked up and saw him, you were surprised, but at the same time there was something deep down that was happy to see him there, dressed in normal clothes. Waking up next to him and having him make you coffee was the domestic relationship you had wanted with him so long ago. It was what you used to imagine when you were curled up on your couch in your old apartment downtown.

“Of course it is. You’re talented.” He replies while flipping through your sketchpad, the flick of the pages drowned out by the bubbling of the coffee.

"I actually have a show coming up in a few weeks-" You weren't sure if you were still going to make enough pieces in time, especially given everything that was happening in your life with Ben or what would happen when you told Rosemary.

"Good." Ben glances up from the sketchpad. "I want to go."

"I'd like that." You blush under his gaze before your eyes drift back to the box of letters smiling faintly. “I still can’t believe you kept them.”

“Got kicked out of boarding school number nine because of them.”

“I thought you got kicked out because you were in a fight.” You raise an eyebrow. “You never told me why.”

“Because someone stole the letters and read them out loud in the cafeteria.”

“You’re kidding!” You snort.

“No.”

“So he exposed you for being a simp and your immediate reaction was to fight him in the cafeteria?” Your fingertips brush over the faded script on the sheets of paper.

“Being a what?” Ben looks confused as he walks slowly towards you.

“Oh right.” You press your lips together to think of a way to explain it without insulting him. “It means being head over heels for someone.” It was a bit of a stretch but he didn’t need to know that. He didn’t need to know that the meaning was closer to something Ben would ascribe to being a pussy.

“I am.” His hands go on the counter around you pinning you between the metal and his muscular chest, looking down with so much love and care in his eyes that it makes you dizzy.

It was jarring. How could he flip the switch so easily? How could he be so open now to me and not be like this before?

You think about the moments you spent in bed together 40 years ago, the look in his eyes the perfect morning, how he held you like he never wanted you to let him go and you didn’t want him to.

“Are you now?”

“Mhmm.” Ben tilts his head down towards your forehead, but just before it rests against yours, your phone buzzes where you left it on the counter the night before, drawing your eyes to the illuminated screen.

“What is that?” Ben asks. You gently push him away to pick up the phone that continues to vibrate.

“Shit.” You mutter to yourself. You had ten missed calls from Rosemary not to mention a barrage of texts that each got more and more unhinged as they were delivered.

Hey. Did you land? Mom? HELLO? Mom are you in trouble? MOM. Please you’re scaring me. Pick up the phone. PICK UP THE PHONE PICK UP THE PHONE If you don’t pick up I’m going to buy a plane ticket. I bought a plane ticket. I’m packing a bag- I’m calling Lou’s babysitter. I’m scheduling an Uber!

Alright to whoever has my mom’s fucking phone, I’m coming and when I get there she better be okay. Because if she’s not, there will be nowhere for you to hide.

You tap out a quick message to sate her ridiculous descent into madness, before thinking of what you need to say next.

Rosie it’s okay. I’m fine!

She Immediately texts back.

What’s the safe word?

Pineapple.

What’s the second safe word?

Your fingertips hover over the screen as you try to remember if Rosemary had decided a second word that gave the all clear, but you can't remember one.

We don’t have a second safe word?

I know I was testing you. Where the hell did you go? Why didn’t you text me? I thought the plane was supposed to land early this morning?

My plans changed I didn’t have to go to Russia. I’ll tell you later. Lots happened and I need to work a few things out.

What happened? Did you find out he wasn’t there?

No I didn’t need to go.

You stop typing to try and think of a way to phrase that her father showed up out of the blue and slept over.

Well he didn't sleep over, sleep over, but he did stay in my bed with me and… she's going to kill me.

Because?

BECAUSE?

He kinda showed up here.

HE WHAT?

He showed up at my apartment.

Are you okay? DID HE HURT YOU? ILL BE THERE IN TEN MINUTES-

No he didn’t hurt me. I promise. All we did was talk. If anything I hurt him.

Good.

You watch the three dots flicker across the screen of your phone to signify that she is responding, waiting with your heartbeat thundering in your ears.

Is he still there?

Yes.

Do you need me to come over?

No. He’s been through a lot. The last thing he needs is for you to show up guns blazing. I haven’t told him about you or Lou yet-

You fucking forgave him didn’t you? WHY?!!

I didn’t forgive him. It’s complicated-

What happened to just slapping him around a bit then telling him to fuck off? That was a good plan. I LOVED THAT PLAN!

Well I did tell him to fuck off but it got more complicated.

OH MY FUCKING G-

“Hey you okay?” Ben’s voice jars you from the barrage of messages on your phone. His gaze is leveled on your face, noting the worried frown that pulls at your lips.

“Yeah. Sorry someone was texting me-“ You try to wave him off, afraid that he can see the texts on the screen of your phone.

I don't want him to find out this way. Not by glancing over my shoulder and seeing the manic, overprotective texts from our daughter.

“They were what?” He looks down at the phone in your hand confused, but you lock the screen.

“Oh right. Sorry I forgot that you’ve been living under a rock the past forty years. It’s kinda like sending a message, instantaneously so you can talk to someone else.”

You really didn't feel like explaining texting and Wi-fi at the moment with him. You were too worried about the introduction between Ben and Rosemary that was looming over you like a guillotine.

But he still looks confused.

“I’ll get you a phone, don’t worry.”

There's so much he's missed.

Your phone buzzes in your hand and you know it’s Rosemary.

She's not going to give up.

Ben looks down at it again curious. “Sounds like someone’s trying to get ahold of you.”

“She can wait.”

“She?”

“Friend of mine.” You answer quickly.

Ben raises an eyebrow. “I can tell when you’re lying.”

“I know.”

The phone buzzes again and you sigh, knowing that the longer you ignore her, the worse it will be. And the last thing you needed was for Rosemary to show up and kick down the door of your apartment with Lou in tow.

“Impatient isn’t she?” Ben comments, noting how the phone continues to vibrate.

“Yeah she is. She’s also incredibly stubborn.”

“Huh sounds like someone I know.” The edge of his mouth quirks in a familiar smile that makes you wish that you had the courage to tell him.

“You have no idea.”

“So?”

“Are you going to answer her?”

“I should.” You press your lips together trying to think of a way to bring this up. “Ben I have to tell you something.”

“What?” He brushes back your hair, tenderly stroking his finger along your skin and trailing warmth with his caress. It distracts you for a moment.

“Well after that night we spent together I-um- I stopped being a hero.”

How the fuck do I say this?

“Yes I assumed that given what we talked about at the premiere.” He frowns remembering that night.

“And it wasn’t just because I wanted to leave it was because-um- well, I was different.”

How is he going to react? Is he going to be happy? Angry? Upset that we weren't more careful?

“Sweetheart I know you’re different, that’s why I love you.” He’s watching you softly, eyes a light green, filled with more love than you can comprehend.

It makes it difficult to find your words.

“No not like that I was, well, there’s no easy way to say this.” You pause and take Ben’s hand, raising your eyes to his and stroking your thumb over the warm skin. “I left because I was pre-“

Butcher kicks open the front door of your apartment interrupting what you were going to say next. “Good morning lovebirds. Did you kiss and make up yet?” Butcher flashes a salacious grin, eyeing Ben and your close proximity.

“That’s none of your fucking business.” Ben snaps his eyes narrowed at the man standing in the doorway.

“Touchy.” Butcher raises his hands in a sarcastic surrender.

“Why are you here?” You ask turning to look at him.

Could he have chosen a WORSE time to come here?

Hughie is loitering in the hall behind him as if deciding whether or not to come in. You couldn't blame him. The poor guy looked like a deer in the headlights yesterday when you threw Ben across the room.

Butcher walks into the kitchen straight for the coffeemaker not asking for permission before he pours himself a cup. “Well I found those TNT fucks that your boyfriend was looking for. Thought he’d want to pay them a visit.”

You turn to look at Ben surprised. “You’re going after the twins?”

Ben and you hadn’t spoken about his next move. He’d only talked about his plans to stay with you and hadn’t mentioned anything about going after your old team.

Not that you were against it. You weren't against making them pay for what they did to him. You weren't against making the remaining members wish that they hadn't sold Ben out. Of course, you hadn't said that to Ben. If anything you were going to give it a few days to get settled together before you brought it up. And you certainly weren't going to bring it up in front of Rosemary, who had been less than pleased when you killed Countess, and wouldn't approve of a bloody rampage all over New York. It definitely wouldn't make her like Ben any more than she already did.

"Yeah." Ben's expression darkens as his eyes flick from your face to Butcher. “Where are they?”

“A few hours outside New York. Brought your suit.”

You didn't like how eager Butcher was to help Ben and remember what Legend said about how Butcher liked killing supes. It made you anxious, because why would Butcher want to help Ben? Was it for the thrill of it? But the last thing you were going to do was leave Ben with a guy who likes killing supes.

Hughie holds up a plastic bag that must contain Ben’s old supe suit and you try not to shudder when you remember the last time you saw him wear it.

“I’ll be a minute.” Ben mutters to you squeezing your hand once before taking the bag and disappearing down the dark hallway towards your bedroom.

But you're not done talking about this with him and as you turn to follow, Hughie steps in front of you.

“Hey I just wanted to say that I'm really sorry."

“About what?” You ask confused.

What does he have to apologize for? He saw Ben and me yelling at each other and saw me throw him across the room. If anything I should be embarrassed about them hearing everything that I shouted at Ben yesterday.

“If I had known what happened between the two of you I would have tried harder to keep Butcher from bringing him here.” Hughie rubs the back of his neck and scrunches up his face sheepishly.

Again, what is he doing hanging around Butcher? Hughie seems to care about other people. And Butcher just seems like-

Your eyes skate to where Butcher is drinking from his cup of coffee unamused. And Butcher is just an asshole.

"It's okay. I'm glad you did. I've been holding on to some stuff for a really long time and Ben has been too. I’m glad that we got to talk things out.”

“So you're okay now?" Hughie raises an eyebrow. "He didn't-“ He pauses as if he's uncomfortable saying what comes next and you try to understand why.

“Didn't?” You ask confused.

“He's kinda rough I was worried that he would-“

He thought that Ben would hurt me.

“Ben might seem a little gruff, but not with me. He's never-“ You stop remembering the premiere and adjust your sentence. “He wouldn't hurt me. And if anything you saw that I can handle him pretty well.” You can't help, but smile and nod your head back towards the couch.

“Yeah. That was intense.” Hughie cracks a nervous smile.

“Yeah” You laugh awkwardly. “ I didn’t mean to lose my shit like that. I’m usually pretty good at controlling myself-"

“Is that what happened to Countess?” Butcher interrupts.

You blink at him surprised. “Yeah. She tried to kill me and she- she said a few things not worth repeating. I didn’t go there with the intention of killing her, I actually just wanted to talk but it got out of hand.”

"What exactly are your powers anyway? Vought's files said you were like him." Butcher nods his head in the direction of where Ben disappeared to.

"I am." The lie is easy. It was the secret that you kept for eighty years, the secret that only Ben and Rosemary knew. Because you knew that particular power made you different than other supes. You had been disappointed to learn that Rosemary's power also made her different than the usual roster of other supe powers that you had encountered in your lifetime. And it made you worry about Lou. Rosemary and you were waiting for the day that Lou's powers manifested and you hoped that Lou didn't have any.

Butcher's eyes narrow like he doesn't believe you, but you shrug it off.

“But I’m going to go check on him so I’ll be right back.”

And you leave your kitchen before Butcher and Hughie can ask you anything else.

When you walk in through the door of your bedroom, Ben is changing into his suit. He’s wearing the dark pants, but the top half of his suit is aying on your bedspread, and that means that you can see every perfect indention of muscle on Ben’s torso.

You'd seen him without a shirt before, obviously, many times, but each time it did the same thing. Again you curse him for looking this good after being trapped in a Russian lab for 40 years.

Did they let him work out there? Was the lab the same place Ivan Drago trained before he faced Rocky? How is any of this fair?

Your cheeks warm and your heartbeat thuds loudly in your chest as you gaze at him, so you turn back to close the door behind you to clear your head.

"You also get me pretty excited when you take your shirt off Sweetheart." Ben smirks at you with a wink as he picks up the top half of his suit, sliding it on over his head, but his helmet is nowhere to be seen.

Guess he wasn't trying to hide anymore.

You stand there for a minute watching him. "Are you sure about Butcher?"

"What about him?"

"I don't know. I don't understand why he's helping you with all of this-"

Ben goes silent and he turns towards his toolbelt, gun, and knife on your bed.

"What did you promise him?" You take a step towards Ben, to catch his eye.

He doesn't answer immediately, instead he buckles his toolbelt around his waist. "He wants me to go after Homelander. He said that he would help me find what's left of our old team if I do."

"Homelander?" You sputter. "You're kidding right?"

"What? He looks like a pussy-"

You could see some of the macho version of Soldier Boy beginning to unfold from the man who stood in front of you and you didn't like it. It wasn't that you hated the protective side of Ben, the side that always made you feel safe, it was the other side, the side that beat others into submission after they had surrendered that you didn't like.

"Do you even know anything about him?"

Honestly you didn't know too much about Homelander either, just that he was Vought's new golden boy and seemed incredibly shallow, not to mention each time you saw an interview or a picture it unnerved you.

Homelander's eyes were cold, lifeless, and empty. Each time he smiled you could see a glimmer of something dark behind them. You had seen it before, seen it in the eyes of supes like Liberty who believed that nothing could stop them, supes who believed that they were gods and everyone else was below them.

"Doesn't matter. Butcher thinks that whatever the fuck is in my chest will wipe him out."

"And you believe him?"

"Maybe-"

"Ben."

"What? You don't think I'm strong enough to take him?" His entire body turns back to look at you, something dark lurking behind his eyes that reminds you of the day you stood between him and Noir.

"That's not what I said. It's not about being strong enough to kill Homelander, it's about you trusting Butcher. You don't know anything about him and he's using you to live out his fantasy of killing Homelander. Legend told me that Butcher has this thing about killing supes and he has a bone to pick with Homelander because he did something to Butcher's wife."

"So?"

You shake your head in frustration, trying to get Ben to understand what you were saying. "Ben please, listen to me. I don't care about Homelander, I don't care about Butcher, I care about you-"

Going after Homelander was crazy. The one thing you knew about him, was how Vought continued to stress how indestructible he was, the exact same thing they had said about Ben and you. But leaving Ben with Butcher was crazier. Butcher didn't give a damn about Ben, he was just using him to do the one thing that he couldn't do himself.

"I know that." Ben sighs. "I care about you too."

"And I don't think it's a good idea for you to be doing everything he says-"

"I'm not doing everything he says. We have a deal. And if this is about you being upset with me going after our team, you can't talk me out of it."

“No Ben-“

“Fuck whatever Butcher says about Homelander. I have to do this.” Ben's jaw tightens, eyes flashing with anger as he remembers what happened in Nicaragua.

“Ben-“

“You weren’t there when it happened. You don't understand what they did to me, what it was like to be in that fucking lab! And I’m not going to let those incestuous fucks get away with it.” His teeth grind down together. "I'm not going to let any of them get away with it."

The air in your bedroom begins to get unnaturally warm, a orangish tinge beginning to peak through Ben's suit as his new power begins to manifest.

“Ben!” You shout, stepping towards him and laying your hands against his chest to snap him out of it. Your hands burn as they press against his suit, but you don’t let go of him.

He blinks a few times, gaining control, the brightness fading as he does so, but you don't drop your hands from over his heart.

“What?”

“I know.” You say gently.

“Huh?”

“I know you have to do this and I’m not going to try and stop you from going after our team. They deserve to pay for it. I was going to say that I’m going with you.”

“No.” His answer is immediate.

“What?”

“No.”

“What happened to not wanting to leave me?”

“I don’t want to leave you. But I have to, just for a few hours. I’ll come back I promise-“ Ben's hand falls on your waist, right where your shirt meets the top of your sweatpants, allowing you to feel the warmth of his skin through the fabric.

“No. The last time I let you go alone Countess told me you died and then you got taken away to Russia. I'm not letting you go alone."

The fear of him getting taken all over again squeezes your heart in your chest, because yes, maybe Butcher wanted Ben to go after Homelander, but what would Butcher do when Ben finished the job? Would he send him back to Russia? You weren't going to sit around and find out, you were going to make sure no one did that to Ben ever again. And if that meant him not leaving your sight, you were okay with that.

Ben continues to frown at you, before an odd look crosses his face. "Did you kill her?"

"Yes." You chew the inside of your cheek. "I didn't mean to, she said a few things and she killed me-"

“She killed you?” Ben growls and he begins to lift the bottom of your shirt to find the scar forgetting himself, but you drop your hand over his to stop him.

“It doesn’t matter. She’s dead now.”

She might be dead, but what she said rings in your ears and the proud smile Countess had flashes through your mind. The triumphant look on her face after she told you why she had sex with Ben. The same look that was on her face, before you ripped her head off.

"What did she say?" Ben asks, but then he realizes after the question passes through his lips, noting your expression and remembering what you yelled at him yesterday. "Sweetheart-“

"It's okay-" You shake your head to dissipate the memory of Countess.

“No it isn’t.” Ben's hand cups your face. “What she said wasn’t true. That night meant everything to me. It wasn’t a mistake and it wasn’t disappointing in any way. Believe me.” His thumb brushes against your cheek and you lean into his touch.

“I do. I shouldn't have let what she said get to me and I shouldn’t have believed her. I can't remember the last time I lost control. I hadn't used my powers in a while-"

"Which is why you shouldn’t come."

“I don’t want you to get taken or hurt." Your hand comes up to hold his hand against your cheek.

Ben rolls his eyes at you, cracking a smile. "I won't get hurt."

"It doesn't matter what you say. I'm going."

His smile drops. “No.”

You really couldn't figure out why Ben was doing this. You both had powers and you trained together. You had been on "missions" for Vought before, and before everything happened, you were going to be in Nicaragua with him. So why was this any different?

“Why not? I’m just as strong as you. I’m just as indestructible-“

Ben pulls his hand from your face. “But you’re not indestructible! You die."

"I come back-"

"Have you thought that maybe I don't want you to come because I hate watching you die?" He snaps angrily.

"What?"

"Do you have any idea what that’s like for me?" He shouts eyes blazing through the soft light in the bedroom. “Hearing your heartbeat stop, watching you take your last breath, knowing that there’s absolutely nothing I can do?”

Whatever thoughts or words you were going to say shrivel up on the tip of your tongue. You'd never thought about it like that before. You'd thought that your ability to come back to life after would have reassured him.

He knows what my powers are. He knows what I can do-

"I hate feeling fucking helpless and every time you get hurt I’m reminded that I can’t help you! That I’m not strong enough to protect you!” He sits down on your bed, hands clenching into fists where they rest on his thighs.

"Ben-"

“When you came with me I promised that I would be strong for both of us, that I would always protect you and every time you die it just makes me feel like I’ve failed!” His gaze is leveled at you feet.

You inhale sharply with his confession. It was what he promised you the night he told you to say no to Howard, the night that you thought he was asking you in his own way to marry him. You could remember the promise, remember the way he held you close to him, eyes wide and vulnerable when he spoke it to you. That night anything had seemed possible. And despite everything that happened with Countess, Ben had never broken that promise to you. He had protected you, he had been strong for you when you needed him to be.

You remember the night of your brother's funeral when he drove all night to be there for you, and how he continued to show up in your life when you were having a hard time as if he seemed to know when you needed him the most.

"Ben-” You try again, this time a little softer.

"Do you have any idea what it’s like to exist in those thirteen fucking seconds wondering if you’re going to come back or not? If that’s the last time I’ll ever see you smile? If you’ll ever open your eyes and look at me ever again?" This time he raises his green eyes to yours and you see a lifetime of emotion reflected in them. It's the same look he had when you woke up after you took a bullet for him and died for the first time. He had yelled at you for it, told you never to do it again, shouted that he could take care of himself and he didn't need you to protect him.

And you suddenly understand, you understand why Ben knew it was thirteen seconds, why he was the first one to ever tell you that it was thirteen seconds. Because each time he counted hoping that you would come back to him.

He doesn’t say anything just continues to sit on the end of the bed, dropping his eyes to the floor again, and wringing his hands together.

You sit down next to him, the bed dipping beneath you, and reach for his hands, but Ben has other plans. He grabs your waist and pulls you up into his lap so you're straddling his thighs. You don't have time to be shocked, because Ben presses his face into your neck and brings both of his arms around your torso to hold you to him. Deep down you know that this is the opposite of taking it slow, but you can't bring yourself to push him away. Because again he was showing the vulnerable side of himself that made you want to comfort him, the side of him that he hid from you for so long.

"You’ve seen me die before.” You breathe, running your hand up and down his back in a soothing motion.

“Doesn’t mean it gets any easier.” He mumbles and you feel his lips brush against the half moon shaped scar over your heart, a reminder of the bullet you took for him all those years ago.“I thought I lost you that day.” Ben mutters into your shirt. “I don’t know what I would have done if I had-“

“You didn’t.”

“But I could have. “I hated that you did it. That you were willing to die for me. You’re worth so much more than I am-"

“The fact that you think that means the opposite.” You run your fingers through his hair, feeling his arms tighten around your hips. “Your father may have made you believe that, but I don't. You’re not a failure Ben. And you could never disappoint me.”

“I already did.”

“Hey we’re moving past that. And I’m sure that I’ve disappointed you plenty.”

“Never.”

“I find that hard to believe.” You snort, and for a moment, you think Ben is going to look up at you and smile, but his face stays buried against your chest.

“Hmm.”

You wait for a moment, stroking your fingers through his hair. “How do you think I felt when they told me you were gone? That I’d never see you again?"

“You were angry at me-“

“That doesn’t mean I wasn’t devastated when they told me you died. I thought that the last thing I’d ever said to you was that you were like your dad and that I regretted having you in my life.”

That was something that you had to live with over the past forty years, because even though what Ben did hurt you, you hated that the last time you saw him was like that. You hated the thought that Ben died believing that you didn't care about him.

Maybe in some ways he did die believing that. All those years at that lab weren't easy for him.

“I-“

“I swear if you say ‘I deserved it’ again I will kill you.” You say pulling his face up to yours and frowning at him.

“I won’t.”

"Good. Now are you done coming up with ridiculous reasons why I can't come with you to see our old friends? Because I'm genuinely curious to know if they're still pretending that they're not fucking."

Ben cracks a smile. "Yes. But only if you promise me that you'll stay behind me."

"Can't." You start to get off of him, but Ben tightens his grip preventing you from leaving.

"Why not?"

"Because I've never broken a promise to you and I'm not going to start now."

"I just don't want you to get hurt." Ben sighs.

"I know. And I don't want to lose you again." You press your forehead against his, threading your fingertips in his dark hair.

You weren't sure what it would do to you if you did lose him, if he walked out of your life or if he went by himself to face your old teammates and vanished. You had been destroyed when everything fell apart the first time, and you knew this time would be worse if it happened. You could feel it in every fiber of your being, just like somewhere deep down you could feel that what was happening now between him and you was different somehow, that it had changed, but not in a bad way.

"I don't want to lose you either Sweetheart. I love you."

"I love you too."

And when Butcher beats his fist against your bedroom door a few minutes later, you're still in his arms, allowing him to hold you close and allowing yourself to begin to trust him again.

***************************************

A/N: Sorry it took me a long time to get this one out! I had a hard time writing this chapter, and honestly it's still not my favorite, but big things are coming!!!

Thank you so much for reading!! If you'd like to be added to my taglist please let me know :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs @bughill126 @simplyfixated @sleepjam @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts @onlyangel-444 @lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress @my-obsession-spn @lifeonawhim @soldirboy @liuope @brynanna @carpenterswife @xxannyxx @babyinatrench-coat1 @the-gentle-spirit @valryomen @cassieriddle713 @shaggzthatsnottheworm @lil-soup @ej13928 @topstory21 @boywivlove @mrsjenniferwinchester @vivre-dans-la-nuit @megara0224 @daisy-the-quake

#soldier boy x you #soldier boy x reader #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy #soldier boy/ben #jensen ackles #the boys amazon #the boys fanfic #jackles #the boys #soldier boy fic #soldier boy x y/n #the boys series #the boys season 3 #You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

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muniimyg · 7 months

Text

5: the oblivious // series m.list

note: okok... i'm sorry i have to taint them. i jus think... HE DESERVED THIS !!! ahwuhaksjf srsly i tried so hard to keep this fic pure n fluffy ,,, mebe next time LOL

warnings: jk fingers oc in the library :') ,, dirty talk ,, oc cums !! implied smut thru/out their convo ?? yeah ...

taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “aao” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @rrosiitas @jkslvsnella @parkinglot-nights @kissyfacekoo

“Hey, you.”

Before you can turn your head, it’s like your heart already knows who it is. Actually, it’s pretty much a given on who it is.

Jungkook catches up next to you, snaking his arm around your waist. He pulls you close and kisses the top of your head, followed by a tight hug. He squeezes you until you squeal free from his grip.

“There’s a kinder way of greeting me that doesn’t involve squeezing my guts out,” you criticize him half-heartedly. "What ever happened to just saying hi?"

He chuckles. “It went down the drain after the first time I kissed you."

“You always wanna kiss me, huh?”

Pretending to be offended, he shoots you a glare. “Now, now… Don’t act like you didn’t come running back for a goodnight kiss—”

“Okay, okay,” you yield. “I get it. Can you—”

Without hesitation, Jungkook takes your tote bag off of your shoulders. Along with your books in your hands, he tilts his head towards the library, assuming that's where you're headed. You nod in response. Like second nature, he offers you his hand.

You take it.

With a smile, he adds, “Let's go. I got it, mi.”

Confused, you tilt your head at him. “Mi?”

He then scrunches his nose at you. “Figure it out.”

You huff but mutter an “okay, fine.” Although, you don't really think about it. You have a feeling you already know what he means.

With that, you continue to walk towards the library. As you do so, Jungkook walks beside you, happier than ever. He smiles brightly when you ask him about his day. To which he replies that it was the same old same old. He states that the only exciting part about today was that he got dismissed early from class because his professor had an appointment. Hence, him being able to catch up to you on time. On Monday's, you're usually at the library by 2PM sharp. He usually joins you at 3PM, making today an hour more special than usual. You laugh, joking that he's too into you. Jungkook doesn't deny it. Poorly, he utters under his breath; “like you wouldn’t do the same…”

You laugh because you heard it.

But more than that, you laugh because it’s true. If the tables were turned, you’d be in his position. You’d be the one looking for him. In all honesty, you don't know when that started... But it has and you wouldn't have it any other way.

Jungkook likes the mood right now. It’s a lot like the end-of-spring weather today. It’s playful and sweet. Moments like these are exactly why he gets so many butterflies when he’s around you. Maybe it’s because he finally feels like things are moving forward between you two. Maybe it’s because he feels your effort. Maybe because it’s finally happening.

You have butterflies too.

They say love is only really made up of two things: choices and timing. With your entire heart, you can't help but feel hopeful that this is that.

This is it.

When you two make it in front of the library, Jungkook holds the door open for you. Happily, you head to your spot only to find it taken.

“Oh…” you frown. “That’s—”

“Do you want me to ask them to move?” Jungkook suggests. "I can do it."

He says it nonchalantly like it's no big deal.

That's the difference between you and him. For many things, Jungkook's approach is much more confident and not personal. You on the other hand... Would rather eat the wrong order than correct the workers. It's difficult for you to feel like you aren't inconveniencing others. It's easier for you to suck it up and move on.

With wide eyes, you shake your head. “What? No. That spot—”

“It's yours if you want it... I know you want it. I can get it for you." He repeats himself. "Just tell me to, baby. I got it.”

Your heart is touched by the way he validates your feelings. More than that, your heart is touched by how he understands and protects what matters to you. There's kindness in his actions. There's thoughtfulness and in a way, it makes you wonder just how well he knows your heart. Though it's just a spot in your favourite library; it's also where you feel the most safe. That's all he really wants... To be with you wherever you are the happiest. He wants it so bad. He just wants to sit with you.

When that realization hits, you can't stop it.

Your heart skips a beat.

“It’s… Okay, fine. Y-yeah, it is my favourite spot but it's also whatever," because wherever you are is my new favourite spot. "We can sit somewhere else—”

His eyes light up.

“I know a spot.”

“You do?”

“Mhmm.” Jungkook nods towards the other end of the library. Before you can think twice, he takes your hand and tugs you to follow him.

And so that's what you do.

You hold his hand tightly.

You follow him.

You set your butterflies free.

Jungkook leads you to the corner of the library. It’s a little secluded, bordered by bookshelves, and only lit by one big window. Your usual spot is right in the heart of the library. Where the high ceilings look magnificent at every time of day, and the busy atmosphere motivates you to keep going… This part of the library is sleepier. It’s hidden. It’s a little—

“I-is this where you go to make out with your girls?” you attempt to joke your nervousness away.

Jungkook grins. “Jealous?”

“Only if it’s true.”

He shakes his head, completely impressed with how you answer him. It’s times like these where he has no doubt that he likes the wrong girl. This is it. You’re the best match for him. He won’t have anyone else.

He refuses to.

Jungkook pulls you down to his lap, and as you settle in, he kisses your neck. Out of reflex, you hesitate when someone walks past you two. They chuckle at you two as if they know the spot... As if they know Jungkook.

You clear your throat and shift away.

Instantly, he notices and sighs. He isn't disappointed or annoyed, he knows you're shy. He knows you need reassurance. He knows to listen to you.

“___, if you think this is some fuckboy move I’m pulling… You’re right. But it’s not my move. It’s Jin’s.” He confesses. “I’ve never made out with a girl in the library. Never felt like it… Like, it’s just so boring and like… The lowest level of an exhibition kink.”

“What’s the highest?”

Jungkook blanks out.

“Don’t edge me like that,” he warns you. “Don’t ask if the answer has nothing to do with you and me.”

More than his head and heart, Jungkook feels like his dick might go crazy.

You laugh, as you get up from his lap and sit on the chair beside him. He groans and keeps his hand on your wrist as you move. Jungkook only lets go when you reach over for your bag and begin to unpack.

He watches you as you prepare your notes in front of him and turn your laptop on. In complete disbelief of the direction of the conversation, he can’t take his eyes off of you.

It’s like he’s in a trance. He doesn’t know if he’s even blinking. He must be, right? You’re the only thing that he sees. The only thing he can think of lately... And to see you so close to him? It feels surreal.

He’s so lucky.

He’s so in love.

There’s no other way of putting it.

Over these past few months, you’ve made it incredibly difficult for him to deny his feelings. He can’t even suppress them anymore like the good subconscious fuckboy he is. You have not only captured his heart with your gentleness, but you have him mesmerized with every single part of yourself that you give to him. As time goes by, he isn’t sure how much more he can hold out before a kiss turns into something more or how many words he has left to use before the words “marry me,” escape his lips. It’s just so easy with you.

It’s so easy to feel loved and be in love.

“Stop staring at me,” you hum as you read through your articles. You don’t even glance at him, but you feel it. You feel the desire to. You should give in… Right? Maybe—

“God, you have no idea how hard I’m trying.”

You turn to look at him, lips curved into a small smile. “T-try harder… Like me.”

This time, Jungkook is caught off guard. Maybe you aren't as oblivious as he once thought you were.

“What do you mean?” he asks, moving his seat closer to you. You sit back and lean in towards his body. It's as if the work you prepared to focus on has completely lost its significance.

It has.

“I think you’re handsome,” you admit. You say it so gently that it comes off a little timid... Sure nonetheless. “But you don’t see my eyes popping out of my head—”

“You think I’m handsome?” Jungkook chuckles, feeling flattered with the way you're trying so hard to get past this nonchalantly. Nice try, ___. He plans to milk this out as much as possible. “What else?”

You scrunch your nose at him. “A little annoying to be honest. This is my study time, and you’re acting all cute.”

“So you think I’m handsome and cute?”

Rolling your eyes, you push away from him playfully. “I think you know know what you are.”

Instantly, he hates the distance you put in between you two. You were just close to him… Why move away? He moves closer to you. You giggle as you feel him moving your hair from your neck. Sweetly, he kisses your neck and behind your ear.

“Just means more coming from you… You know? Makes me happy when you think of me.”

“I always think of you,” you breathe, pushing him away again. He gives you a lazy smile and you squish his lips together into a pout. “Are you done? Stop staring at me. Stop trying to make out with me. Stop—”

“Why?” Jungkook tests you, removing your hands from his face. You’re tongue tied. “___, if you’re in love with me, fess up now. Aren’t we supposed to be doing that honesty thing?”

“That was more for you than it is for me…” you remind him. “Now, get it together or get out.”

“You can’t kick me out of the library. You aren’t the police. If you are, show me your handcuffs.” Jungkook demands. “Plus, this is my spot.”

With an annoyed tone, you sit up and argue back. “You took my spot—”

“Shhh,” he cuts you off by pressing a kiss on your lips. Your lips chase his as he pulls away. You let out a whine and furrow your eyebrows together.

One more, please.

One more kiss.

Jungkook settles back to his seat and takes his books out. Ignoring your pleas, he places his hand on your knee (like he always does) and hushes you one last time; “___, get it together or get out.”

Jungkook’s hand on your knees somehow made it up your skirt.

Let’s not talk about it. Instead, let’s just accept that this is what’s happening now.

Even so, you admit that a part of you should have seen this coming… Nevertheless, you aren’t mad that it’s happening. You’d be lying if you never went through your ovulation and didn’t think about Jungkook… Besides, he’s been so good to you. He deserves this!

God, did he deserve this.

He has wanted this for so long. Aside from being mindlessly in love with you 24/7, he has thought about it. Of course, he has. At the end of the day, his heart can't be the only thing that's in(to) you. He's a nice guy, meaning he’d rather service you first.

Mark his word but the day you and him actually do sleep together and it's you doing things to him...

It will be unforgettable.

It will be incomparable.

It will be everything.

For now, this is it. His hoodie sits on top of your lap as his fingers are up your pussy. You two are still in the library at his spot. Everyone has left to eat dinner. The only ones at the library are the workers and the try-hard students in the main rooms.

Besides… You’re close.

Really fucking close.

As his fingers pump inside you, you squirm in your chair. Leaning your forehead against his chest, he rests his chin on top of your head and utters; “take it, baby. You can do it. Make me proud.”

“I c-can’t,” you cry, feeling it in your bones at this point. His fingers curl inside you, and you practically jump out of your seat when he adds his thumb to rub onto your clit.

“Wish it was my mouth,” he whines. “Can I do that next time, baby? Can I suck your cunt? So fucking swollen right now... You thinking of me eating you out, baby? Wanna lick that pussy so bad.. Ahh, fuck.”

“M-mnhmphh,” you moan at the thought. “Kiss me, p-please…”

You tilt your face up and pursed your lips at him. Jungkook lowers his head and kisses you, deep and slow. It’s a contradiction to how he picks up the pace and fucks you with his fingers. You gasp, mouth opening for him. He catches your tongue and sucks on it.

Pulling away, you grab a handful of his shirt and tug on it. Holding onto it, you pant and feel the tingles in your body intensify.

“That’s it, ___. Clench around my fucking fingers,” he hisses. “Be an angel and cream them, yeah? Fuck my fingers back if you want. I’ll let you.”

You shake your head. “N-no. You started this, you finish it.”

He grins. “What my girl wants, she gets.”

He keeps going, fucking you with his fingers. They curl, searching inside your pussy as if there’s something to fucking find. Actually, maybe he’ll find your dignity in there. You must have lost your mind to be fingered in the fucking library!

Your thoughts are cut off when he pulls his fingers out and rubs your folds. You almost cry when you feel him pinch your clit.

“Jungkook,” you whine, feeling yourself climax.

“Jungkook,” he mocks, as he feels your upper body collapse against his.

As you feel yourself cum, you gather the strength to stick up for yourself. “S-shut up.”

He laughs, and kisses the top of your head as he pulls his fingers out. He murmurs between kisses; “Good job, baby… Did so good. Proud of you.”

Your heart flutters as you catch your breath and straighten your posture. With Jungkook’s free hand, he reaches in his bag for the little packet of tissue (that you had packed in there a few days ago because you noticed he had a runny nose) and nonchalantly wipes your mess.

“Your fingers—”

Jungkook shoves them in his mouth, sucking on your cum. As he cleans them off, you glare at him.

“Don't—oh my god," you huff. Suddenly, you feel embarrassed about everything that just happened. Jungkook laughs and leans forward. He kisses your cheek, asking if you're okay. You nod and feel yourself beginning to blank out.

"You're nasty."

He cups your face and kisses your lips. “Yeah, yeah... But, baby, I wasn’t the one that came in the library.”

#bts fic #bts scenario #jk scenario #jk uni au #bts uni au #jk drabble series #jk smut #jk fluff

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roosterforme · 4 months

Text

Covering the Classics Part 13 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Confronting Kevin in California should have made Anna feel like she had the advantage, but nothing with him ever went to plan. As soon as Bob encounters Anna's husband for himself, he knows something isn't quite right.

Warnings: Angst, Kevin is a dick, bruises on Anna's arm, adult language, 18+

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

"Did you delete her number yet?" Nat asked as she lifted her helmet and Bob's off of the shelf in the hangar where their gear was stored when they weren't flying. "Or are you trying to prolong the pain like some sort of sadistic artist?"

Bob flinched at her words, because she hit a little too close to home for his liking. It wasn't that he wanted to be missing Anna like this, but he had been writing a lot of poetry about her. He couldn't help himself. He hadn't posted any since the one about his bookshelf, but that didn't mean his computer wasn't full of it.

"I'm not trying to prolong the pain," he told his friend with a grimace. "I don't know what I'm doing."

She shoved his helmet down onto his head and told him, "I know she threw you for a loop, but either delete her number or give her another chance. Don't sit in this annoying gray area. I don't know why you guys insist on doing that shit. I tried for ten years to get Bradley to contact his wife, but he just flounced around in the gray area like an idiot instead. Don't be like him," she said firmly, pointing to where Bradley was looking down at his phone with a dopey smile on his face. He was almost definitely texting his wife if he looked like that.

Bob sighed. "Nat, I don't know if she wants me to give her another chance right now. She said she's going to deal with her husband, but I think she needs time."

Nat rolled her eyes and held her hands up in the air. "Why don't you," she said, waving her fingers like she was performing magic, "talk to her again?!"

Bob pulled his helmet off again, saying, "What would you suggest I say? She already knows I've had feelings for her for months. There's just a point where it becomes too much."

"You could tell her that even though it blew up in your face, she's the best lay of your life." Bob immediately wished he hadn't told her that. "Or that you'll still be around after she figures her shit out. I think the ball is in your court."

He was still blushing furiously and nowhere closer to knowing what he should be doing when they all got called to the tower, but he did smile when Nat snapped at Bradley to put his phone away. She probably needed to get laid more than Bob ever did.

---------------------------

The bus ride from San Diego to Carlsbad shouldn't take an hour and a half when it would take barely forty minutes to drive yourself. Not for the first time, Anna wished she had a car in California. That way she could get to Kevin faster. Kevin. Fucking Kevin. The man who was the reason she didn't have a car in California.

She needed to stay calm. If she could catch him while his guard was down and convince him to just sign the paperwork, she would be golden. But every time she thought about seeing his face, she started to panic. She had seen nothing except kind faces for months. The faces of her friends. The faces of her students. Bob's beautiful blue eyes always seemed to look at her with a smile behind them. Even now, after she met up with him for a little bit at the bookstore, his eyes were kind.

Her hands shook slightly. She needed to deal with Kevin so she could move on and never have to see him again. Then she could work on getting back to the people who didn't look at her like she was worthless. When the bus finally fought its way through traffic and made a stop near the hotel where the conference was being held, she sprinted down the steps and up the block. She had already memorized the map and knew she needed to find the grand ballroom, but when she got to the upscale hotel, she was sweaty and panting for breath, and even the doorman was looking at her skeptically as she slipped inside.

The lobby was crowded enough that she padded her way across the marble floor in her beat up sneakers, blending in well enough with the others. Signs for the National Neurological Physicians Association conference were plastered all over the place, and she had to keep from rolling her eyes. It was laughable that physicians from all over would come here to listen to Kevin blathering on and on about his specialty area of study. But when Anna paused to really think about it for a second, something close to cold fury started flowing through her veins, because she was the one who paid for that for him. She was the reason he was a speaker at this massive conference in the first place.

With renewed purpose, she picked up her pace and turned right past the elevator bank, following the signs that led her toward several people in monogrammed lab coats. The ballroom was in sight, and she was ready to push through the double doors when one of the men in a lab coat popped up in front of her.

"Not so fast," he said, a forced smile plastered on his face. "You're late for the introductory speakers, and you haven't signed in yet."

"Oh," she said, scrambling to push her bag up on her shoulder. "Right." When he gestured toward a long table with some unclaimed name badges and information booklets, Anna's heart skipped a beat. She took a step closer, praying nobody would ask her for any sort of identification, and reached for the badge that said Dr. Angela Harmon, MD. She clipped it onto her shirt, realizing she was terribly under dressed to even try to pull this off, and then she picked up the booklet with Dr. Harmon's name on it as well. "Is this all I need?" she asked, tapping the name badge and praying this random woman didn't decide to show up right now.

With a nod, the man said, "Please try to find a seat at the back to keep disruption to a minimum. I believe Dr. Webber is still speaking, and you know how excited we all are to have him here."

Anna had to bite down on the inside of her cheek and take a deep breath before she could say, "So excited," through clenched teeth. "I wouldn't dream of being disruptive."

"Of course not," he agreed, finally smiling kindly. "Enjoy the conference, Dr. Harmon."

Carefully and as quietly as she could, Anna entered the ballroom to find hundreds of people sitting in rows of chairs listening to her worthless husband giving a presentation in a three piece suit.

"But we already know recent attempts to update computational axial tomography are largely like someone trying to reinvent the wheel," he said with a charming smile, and the room hummed with amused laughter like everyone was in on some sort of inside joke. Anna's skin crawled as she carefully took a seat in the last row, praying Kevin hadn't seen her yet. If he was this well known and well regarded in his field, then he didn't need money from her manuscript. He was simply holding onto it to be an ass.

She had to listen to him for twenty more minutes after that. Nineteen too long in her book. His voice sounded light and carefree, and his smile was handsome and unassuming. Frankly he was putting on some sort of persona, and it was nothing like she was used to. But it wasn't until he started on a short presentation that Anna's attention was piqued, because it was then that she saw he was using the laptop that they used to share. The one she used to type up her book.

A soft sound escaped her as she stared longingly at it, wondering if her work was still there. He slammed the computer shut, and she was jolted back to reality as he said, "Once again, thank you all for being here for the next week. We have so many groundbreaking topics to learn about and some of the most renowned research physicians in the country sharing their expertise with us. Let's take a quick break and then dive right into new MRI techniques with Dr. Nunez."

There was an immediate round of applause, and Anna jumped to her feet, heart pounding so hard, it was making her nauseous. When she headed toward his cocky, smiling face, she realized Kevin was already surrounded by colleagues, shaking hands and laughing. And that was when he spotted her. They'd been on the phone just a handful of hours ago, but he looked shocked to see her here. She watched his sharp, gray eyes narrow in on her with a spiteful glare before he smoothed out his features into something neutral. And that's when she came to terms with the fact that he would know she was living in southern California. That's when she knew she needed to make this work.

"Anna," he said with absolutely no emotion as she cut in front of the person he was talking to. "What are you doing here?"

She swallowed hard, imagining Bob and her two friends were with her, urging her on, cheering for her to fix this. "I have something for you to sign," she told him as her voice shook. She took a step closer as she reached into her bag to pull out the folded paperwork and a pen.

"No," he practically growled under his breath, trying not to draw more attention to himself. "Why are you doing this here? I'm a little busy."

Anna wanted to laugh in his face. She was a little busy trying to get on with her stupid life, but that didn't stop him from disrupting her mission every day. "Just sign the divorce papers, Kevin," she demanded, but she sounded like a child even to her own ears. His eyes flashed with so much anger, she could barely breathe with him this close to her. He was built similarly to Bob, which was a frightening realization. Where Kevin always used his size as an intimidation tactic, Bob had never done that to her. She always felt safe around him. Right now she felt very unsafe around Kevin, even though they were literally in the midst of a crowd of people.

"Just sign it," she whispered, trying to push the document into his solid chest. It was unbelievable that at one time, she was in love with this man. It was crazy to think about how he used to tell her he loved her too. "Please, Kevin." He looked so angry right now, and Anna felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up in fear as the people behind her started whispering.

"Who is this woman? That's not Alyssa."

"Did she say divorce? Isn't he married to that other physician? The pregnant one?"

So Alyssa was pregnant. And nobody here even knew about Anna. It was like she didn't even exist. Like she had never existed to her husband. A mortifying little sob bubbled free from the back of her throat, and she looked up at Kevin as he said, "Let's take a little walk."

His hand closed around her bicep, and Anna wanted to yelp as he pulled her up onto the stage, past the podium, where nobody else would be able to hear them. The laptop was right there, and she considered trying to take it, but she'd never make it out of the hotel let alone back to her apartment with it. Instead she tripped along next to him until he had her where he wanted her.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" he snarled. "Were you always this stupid? Or have you gotten worse?"

"Come on, Kevin," she pleaded, and he finally released her throbbing arm. "You don't need it. Look how well you're doing. You don't need my book."

He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair as if he was trying his hardest to keep his composure. "You think you can come here and embarrass me in front of my peers? Mentioning our marriage like we still have one when you moved away?"

Her fist clenched at her side. "Our marriage didn't fall apart because I left," she hissed under her breath. "It fell apart because of you. And now your mistress is pregnant?"

Kevin sighed. "I understand that you're jealous, Anna. I really do, but I'm not signing anything for you."

She clenched and unclenched her fist. The desire to punch him in the face was so strong as her other hand shook with the papers grasped between her fingers. She was far from jealous, and he knew it. He wanted to get a rise out of her because he felt cornered. "I don't care what these people think about me," she whispered. "But you do. So just sign it."

He stood before her, tall and broad with his jaw set as he said, "There is no way in hell you have what it takes to intimidate me. Now get the fuck out of here, or I will have security remove you from the hotel for disrupting the conference."

She knew she didn't have any other choice. If she somehow got herself in trouble for being here, she didn't have the money to spend on more legal help. So she took a step backwards just as Kevin's hand flew up to pull the name badge from her shirt. "And you're obviously not Dr. Harmon. She has enormous tits, and I fucked her last year in Toronto. Now go."

Twenty minutes later, Anna was back on the bus heading south toward San Diego, empty handed with tears in her eyes and a bruised arm.

-----------------------------

"What happened to your pretty girlfriend?"

Bob looked up from his phone as he walked up his porch steps after a long run on Monday evening. He hadn't been sleeping well, debating reaching out to Anna again, and he was hoping the run would tire him out. But he should have known Suzanne would have her door open and her game shows blaring at this hour.

"Hi, Suzanne," he said, wishing he could just duck inside his own place without having to chat with her.

"I haven't seen her again in weeks."

Bob sighed and tipped his head back. "She's not my girlfriend. She never was."

"Not with that attitude," his neighbor mused under her breath.

"You have a good night, Suzanne." Bob swatted Sylvester away from his front door before heading inside and up to take a shower. He thought about Anna as he ran his soapy hands along his body. He tried not to, but she was on his mind a lot. When he climbed into bed, his skin felt too hot. He opened the window to let the late fall air in, but it did nothing to help him. He wanted to see her, even just to make sure she was still okay.

He reached for his phone, typed up a text, and then deleted it. "You sound so desperate for her," he groaned, trying again. But again he had to delete it rather than send it. Finally he settled on something simple.

Hey, I've been craving some peanuts from Chippy's. Feel like joining me for a bit tomorrow?

It sounded neutral enough. If she said no, he'd ask Jessica to make sure the ladies were checking in on her. If she said yes, then Bob could see with his own eyes if she was okay. He would also get to see with his own eyes how fucking beautiful she was, but that didn't matter as much, honestly.

He was just slipping into a daydream where Anna's husband divorced her tomorrow and never left the state of New Jersey again when his phone vibrated on his nightstand.

Anna Webber: Peanuts from Chippy's sound heavenly right now. I would love to join you for a little bit.

He exhaled as the cooler air finally met his skin, and he pulled his sheet over himself after he promised to meet her there.

----------------------------

Before she went down to the quad with her lunch bag, Anna adjusted her cardigan. She knew her sleeve was covering his bruised arm, but she felt naked all morning during her lectures anyway. She felt like her skin and the inside of her brain were on full display for everyone. She wondered when Alyssa was due. She wondered if Kevin slept with Dr. Harmon when he was in Toronto last June or last October. Perhaps both. She wondered how someone who was so full of shit could keep coming out ahead of her.

"Anna!"

At least her friends were still faithfully waiting for her at the weird looking tree. And at least Bob was making it a point to let her know she was welcome around him. She could hardly wait to go to Chippy's later.

"Hi," she said, plopping down in between them on the bench, adjusting her sleeve one more time before pulling her sad sandwich out. "What's new in the world of science and mathematics?"

Almost immediately, she had a container of veggies and a homemade ranch dip in her hand while her friend told her about a fascinating math conference she wanted to go to next year in Philadelphia. Apparently the dates were just announced, and you had to be someone important to even get an invitation. Anna loved that her friend already knew she was going to go, but it made her dwell on Kevin and his conference which was still going on in Carlsbad.

"Oh!" Jessica said as she poured some potato chips on her already delectable looking sandwich. "Jake and I are going to Cabo next month! A much needed break after the term ends."

"I love that for you," Anna told her, feeling jealous in spite of herself. And that made her feel even sadder. She almost winced when her other friend wrapped her arm around her, inadvertently mashing her hand against the bruise from Kevin.

"Don't worry. Bradley and I aren't going anywhere for term break. I wanted to, but his favorite Grateful Dead cover band is playing right here in San Diego on New Year's Eve, and he absolutely can't miss it. That would be a crime." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm which made Anna laugh. "How's your week going?" she asked cautiously.

Anna wanted to tell them all about going to the conference at the hotel. She wanted to tell them that she saw Kevin and left with less than nothing. She would tell them, but not right now when she only had a little bit of time before she had to give her Classics lecture. She didn't want to run the risk of arriving to the lecture hall with tears in her eyes.

Instead she softly said, "I'm going to see Bob later. Just a quick visit to Chippy's for some peanuts."

Jessica was instantly vibrating with excitement. "That's great. I think you and he will have fun!"

"We will," Anna confirmed. Even though it was a little awkward, she'd had a nice time with him at the bookstore. She always did. Because he was kind and sweet and literally the opposite of everything that Kevin turned out to be. She just wished there was some reality in which she could feel his arms around her again. "We will."

The end of lunch came way more quickly than she wanted it to, and Anna found herself mentally regrouping to try to find another way to get her manuscript. She taught her last two lectures and graded a handful of essays, counting down the minutes until she could see Bob again. His blue eyes would be soft when he looked at her, and his words would be enough to make her feel better even if they only engaged in some small talk.

When she only had thirty minutes until she was supposed to meet him, she printed off sixty copies of the quiz she would need for tomorrow afternoon. Anna locked her office door behind her as she headed down to the teacher's lounge to retrieve the quizzes before someone moved them, never to be seen again. She learned her lesson after last time that if you didn't grab them right away, there was a good chance they'd end up in the trash. Then she would drop them off before going to meet Bob.

----------------------------

Since he was running early, Bob decided to just head to Anna's office and meet her there. He'd been so antsy to see her, he showered and dressed in his favorite jeans and tee shirt in record time after work. Even though he'd only been in this one academic building one time, he remembered exactly how to get to her office. Having an outstanding sense of direction just came with the territory for a WSO, but her hallway also smelled like fresh baked bread.

When he rounded the last corner, Bob skidded to a halt and ducked back behind the wall. There was a man about his age who was vigorously jiggling Anna's doorknob. "Anna. Open the door so we can talk," he said calmly even as he pushed his fingers through his hair in exasperation. Bob didn't know who he was, but he had a bad feeling, and that's when the man turned his head and spotted him.

Bob squared his shoulders to try to match the other man's height as he rounded the corner completely and asked, "Are you looking for Dr. Webber?"

The other man appraised him with cool gray eyes and smirked. "Let me guess. You're sleeping with her?"

Bob's heart lurched into his stomach as the color drained from his face. He knew this had to be Kevin. He knew it without confirmation, and now he didn't know how the hell he was supposed to respond. So he simply kept his mouth shut while the other man took a step in his direction.

"She really likes to act so high and mighty. Very hypocritical in this scenario," he muttered, making Bob's skin crawl. "I can't believe her."

Bob swallowed hard, trying to figure out why Anna agreed to go to Chippy's today if she knew Kevin was in San Diego. All he knew about was what she'd told him when she came to his house. Bob didn't think he should divulge too much to this man, so he simply asked, "What do you want from her?"

The answer was swift and felt like a punch to the gut. "She's my wife, and she's coming back to New Jersey with me where I can keep track of her. She doesn't belong here, and she needs to stop lying. So why don't you tell me what you want from her?"

His nostrils flared as his fingers curled into fists, and Bob had to take a few deep breaths before he said, "I just wanted to make sure she's okay."

Kevin crossed his arms over his chest and said, "She's nothing you need to be concerned about."

The uneasy feeling that started to fill him up spread through his whole body now, and Bob took a step backwards. Maybe Anna was already at Chippy's. Maybe she didn't know Kevin was here at all. He backtracked his way through the building as he started to panic. What if she did know he was here? What if she had played Bob and everyone else the whole time?

He would check for her at Chippy's. He made it all the way across the quad to a weird looking tree that was growing sideways when he froze again. It just didn't make sense. Anna said she hated Kevin and never wanted to go back to New Jersey, and Bob had no reason to believe someone else over her.

He started calling her phone, torn as to which direction he should head. Back up to her office? To Chippy's where they were supposed to meet up? She didn't answer. He started toward the bar, covering the few blocks at a brisk pace as he tried to call her again. He walked back and forth across that sticky floor through the clusters of students enjoying an after class drink before he was satisfied that she wasn't there.

"Damn it, Anna. Answer your phone," he muttered as he ran back to her building and up to her office. The building was virtually empty at this hour, and now there was nobody in the hallway at all. He knocked on her door and called out her name, but he was met with silence. The kind of silence that just didn't feel right.

He felt like he was going crazy, running in circles both metaphorically and physically for this woman, and when he finally reached his truck, he had to wipe the sweat from his brow. Her apartment wasn't far from campus, and he didn't know where else to even look at this point. When he got there, he parked and tried to call her one more time before someone else who lived in the building simply held the door open for him.

"Thanks," he muttered, heading for the stairwell and taking the steps two at a time until he reached Anna's floor. And then her apartment. What he heard coming from inside made him want to rip the door from the hinges.

--------------------------

I hate Kevin. Hate. Him. I'm sorry, but he's still going to get worse. Just remember that Bob is a sweet cinnamon bun. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 14

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#bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fic #bob floyd fanfiction #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd fanfiction #robert floyd #robert floyd fic #robert floyd x oc #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #roosterforme #covering the classics

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violet-butterflies · 1 year

Text

❥︎ yandere! Merman

❥︎ Warnings ! ☞︎︎︎ sexual harassment, kidnapping ( male yandere! oc x gn reader ) Click to see part 2 and a nsfw spin-off !

It was a dark and stormy night when you first met the merman. You were a lighthouse keeper on a tiny island that was not densely populated. The people that did live on the island were mostly fishermen that lead a peaceful and simple life. However, this night was not peaceful. The storm was roaring and the tides were filled with rage.

You simply went to town to buy a few things and maybe grab a drink with the friendly residents when the storm picked up, forcing you to retreat inside a cave near the sea. You thought it was dangerous since the cave could be flooded when the tides were high but the thunder and lightning seemed even more dangerous since you were walking around the beach with no trees in sight.

You expected to be bored inside a moist and salty-smelling cave but what happened was far from what you had expected.

Inside was a beautiful and ethereal merman who stared at you with wide and scared eyes. He had long white hair that was decorated with seaweed and pearls. He had nothing on, showing off his well-toned body. The most unbelievable part was the fact that instead of legs, there was a long and shimmering silver tail that was covered in scars and a fin that looked like it had a hole in it.

You awkwardly tried to approach it, trying to not scare the merman but failing since he started to thrash in the small pool of water in the cave.

"Shh, shh, shh... I'm not gonna hurt you," you said quietly and gently. The merman must've sensed that you meant no harm as he let you come closer.

The trust only grew when you spent the night, trying to help treat his injuries with the very minimal supplies that you had.

The next few weeks, you'd come and accompany the merman inside the cave. Not only that, you'd come and bring him food and books to show him. Your days mostly consisted of nothing before sunset when your job actually starts anyways so you had plenty of time to spare. Of course, you kept his existence a secret since you didn't want to bring any harm to your new friend.

It was odd though, his wounds have long healed but he kept lingering in the cave. You were on your wits end as you didn't know what he wanted and he can't speak English. You tried teaching him but, you weren't sure if it was because he was half fish, but he was not the smartest being.

You were about to stand and leave the cave to do your job before the merman snatched your hand and pulled you into the water with him. Startled, your body froze as the merman smiled when he looked at you. He hugged you and began to kiss your neck. Not only that, he began clawing at your clothes as he gave you a passionate kiss. You eventually snapped out of it before biting the merman's tongue hard to surprise him into letting you go. You quickly swam back to land and looked at the water with wide eyes. The merman looked at you with a look of surprise and desperation as he tried to go on land to take you back into his hands.

That obviously didn't work though since you ran out before he could even begin to get his whole body out of the water.

You didn't bother coming back to the cave since you felt scared and confused at the incident.

The merman basically forced himself on you but on the other hand, he was a mermaid that probably didn't know anything about human knowledge or consent. Still, though, you felt uncomfortable and it was probably better to leave him alone so he can go back into the ocean.

You didn't expect to ever see him again until you saw a familiar figure flopping on the beach just in front of your secluded lighthouse. In an instant, your eyes went wide as you rushed out to the merman before anyone sees him.

As soon as you came into the merman's line of sight, his eyes lights up and began trying to flop faster towards you.

"What are you doing here?! You can be here!"

"I... I sorryyyy" the merman attempted to say with a slow and dragged accent. You can't help but feel surprised since you didn't expect him to remember anything you tried to teach him.

You somehow got him back into the ocean and as you turned around to go back to shore, he pulled you down into the ocean with him. Deeper and deeper until the ocean covers your senses.

#tw: yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc #male yandere #lovesick #yandere merman #yandere merman x reader

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2hightocare · 7 months

Text

LOVE WAGER! 01

Synopsis: Meeting a crazy stranger who cuts in line, tries to tell you love like the books doesn’t exist—it’s whatever. You won’t ever see him again… right?

Pairings: jungkook x fem!reader

Genre: college au. strangers to friends to lovers. forced proximity.

Warnings: mentions of divorce parents, Jungkook lowkey being insufferable, banter, cussing, a little bit of them being enemies, nicknames, oc being a hopeless romantic at heart, Jungkook being lowkey a cynic… them meeting each other so many times, choking!

a/n: first chapter out!! Woohoo, I’ve been keeping them close to my heart for quite some time. Ever since I listened to “in between” by Gracie Abrams.. I was inspired to write them—the song is so them coded.💌

★ masterlist!

3 years ago…

You were a hopeless romantic.

Most people called it being delusional— by people, you mean the random stranger in front of you.

The first time you met Jungkook, not only did he cut in front of you in line, but he also started shit-talking about how delusional you had to be to think romance books were even remotely comparable to real life.

The line at the cupcake shop was long. You had been wanting to try the new chocolate-covered strawberry flavor from your favorite cupcake shop in the city. The shop was always full, but today it was packed to the bone— the line almost reached outside the door. The people sitting at the cute pastel-colored tables were even leaving because the space was getting so crowded.

It was a Friday, and you had just left school. Your black backpack hung loosely over one shoulder as you stared down at your phone, trying not to die playing Subway Surfers. When your phone died, you internally groaned.

You mentally rolled your eyes before looking forward, where the line was starting to move faster. You were probably the fourth person in line, which was good since you'd only been there for around twenty minutes. You slipped your phone into the back pocket of your jeans before reaching for the zipper of your backpack—pulling out the latest book you hadn’t finished reading amidst all the assignments teachers had been bombarding you with. You thought it was dumb, considering it was your senior year in high school—why not just let you off easy?

You zipped up your backpack before slipping it on, tucking in the small hair that fell into your face when you opened your book. You moved forward as the line advanced, not bothered by the conversations from everyone around you—it was like your own brown noise, which you usually looked up on YouTube whenever you wanted to act like the main character in a movie.

Romance books were your thing. The same went for movies; you loved a good romantic story with the most cliché plot in the world—it did it for you every single time.

Your dad had tried getting you into self-help books, fiction books, or even those thriller books where you had to guess who kills who. He would back this up with actually learning something from reading a book, and you tried all those genres, you really did. You were the most specific girl there could be; if the book didn't impress you within one chapter, you closed it and moved on.

You were basically in love with the idea of love, imagining someone doing all those things you had seen in movies and read about, which filled you with hope that someone could care and love you that way. Yes, you believed in soulmates; you believed that someone, somewhere in this world, was destined to be with you, no matter the circumstances. You believed that if two people were destined for each other, they would find a way to each other, one way or another.

“Hi, baby, you still haven’t ordered? The line is so fucking long.” A strange boy, who looked around your age or maybe slightly older due to his eyebrow piercing, spoke up. He had a navy blue cap with the Yankees logo on the front, and you could see small pieces of his hair. It looked like a dark brown, but at some angles, it looked black, so you thought maybe he dyed it. He was cute, with a sharp jaw and dimples, which you immediately noticed when they showed on his left cheek as he bit his lip, waiting for you to reply.

“I’m sorry—“ you started, only to be cut off by him. “I've been meaning to show you this, babe.” He cut you off before basically shoving his phone into your face. His phone showed his notes app open with a text that read, ‘Please act like you know me so I can cut in line; it’s so long, and I have somewhere to be.’

Your brows furrowed at the pleading guy. You had no clue what his name was, but he looked like he was seriously about to lose his mind if he had to wait another minute in line. You shook your head before nodding— a smile burst on his face.

“Thank you,” he mouthed to you, to which you only shrugged before closing your book. “What flavor are you getting, lovebug?” He said, his nose scrunching in disgust at what he just said. A small laugh escaped your lips since that was the cringiest shit you had heard all day, maybe even all week if you didn’t count your dad trying to write you a poem about his love for your cat.

“I want to get the new chocolate-covered strawberry flavor. What about you?” You said, your fingers fidgeting with the pages of your closed book. His eyes dropped to your hands as you moved up in line, now second in line.

“Is that your book?” He said instead of replying to your question. “Yeah, do you read?” A spike of excitement was clear in your face and voice, only to be squashed when he opened his mouth.

“Do you actually believe anything in there is remotely realistic?” He said nonchalantly before removing his cap, letting his fluffy hair fall in his face before almost immediately collecting it back, placing his cap backward this time.

“I—“ you stutter, your mouth slightly agape, not knowing how to reply without sounding dumb. Because, yeah, you strongly believed romance books were able to happen in real life if someone loved you enough. “Well.. I mean, love happens anywhere,” you shrug, but he only nods his head in a condescending way. Not only were you helping him skip in line—he was basically criticizing your view on love.

“Well, duh, love happens, but all that cringey shit is the dumbest thing our generation normalized. Like, nobody is going to confess their love with a microphone in the middle of a dance-off,” he scoffs. You didn’t understand why he actually looked like he seriously hated the idea of making gestures for someone you loved or cared about.

“Well, obviously, I find that stupid as well, but there are other gestures to show your appreciation and love for someone.” You turn your whole body to face him. He’s not much taller than you, maybe two inches if you really wanted to know, and the cap maybe added another inch, but that didn’t matter since your eyesight was eye level with his.

“Love is embarrassing,” he says, crossing his arms in front of him. You felt the lady behind you both, her eyes bore into you both, trying to figure out why the supposed couple were fighting about love.

“How is love embarrassing?” You scoff before turning around to look in front of you, at the back of the head of the man who was ordering.

“Because love makes you do embarrassing shit all the time; that’s the easiest way I can put it for you, ribbons,” he replies with a duh tone, raising his eyebrows at you, which you see from your peripheral vision.

“Ribbons?” You turn to him, your arms crossed over your book as you glare at him. “Pink ribbon. Don’t you think you look a little too old to be wearing bows?” A grin appears on his face as he casually points to the pink ribbon tied into a bow in your hair.

“The fuck? Not only did I let you skip the line, but you’re a) talking shit about my favorite genre, and b) making fun of me wearing bows.” You turn your full body to him, which he only raises his hands in defense, as if you had a gun pointed at him.

“Damn, my bad. I thought this was a free country; you know your amendments, right?” He raises an eyebrow at you. “Yes, I fucking know my amendments,” you reply, absolutely annoyed at him bringing history into this.

“Freedom of speech,” he says before walking in front of you to the cashier. You were annoyed, maybe even angry. How dare he talk shit and say freedom of speech when you just did him a favor.

“He cut in front of me,” you point to him as you tell on him to the cashier, his jaw dropping to the floor. “Did you just tell on me? What the fuck,” he side-eyes you as you just shrugged.

“I respectfully need to ask you to go to the back of the line,” the cashier says, shooting you an apologetic look. You bite on the inside of your cheek to contain the smile that is threatening to slip out, as he sends you a mocking face, which you return, because apparently, you both were literal children. He rolled his eyes before he walked off.

2 years ago..

The second time you met Jungkook, you almost died due to choking on your coke.

You and your best-friend, Amelia, sat in a booth, munching on pizza, while you hear her ramble about the latest drama on campus.

“I can’t believe he cheated on her. I was so shocked, like I couldn’t believe he would do that after he literally gave her a promise ring—I heard it was expensive as well, bro,” Amelia said, stuffing a French fry in her mouth.

Amelia and you had been best friends since your freshman year at Preston University. She ended up in your dorm room by mistake, until security escorted her to her corresponding room. You both even had your calculus class together, which ended in both of you ripping your hair out because you truly had no clue what the professor was talking about.

“Oh my god, you’re lying!” you gasped, taking a bite of your folded pizza. “Alexandra said she didn’t care, but apparently, she was crying at the frat party we were supposed to go to yesterday,” Amelia said, pressing her lips together with wide eyes. As you were about to reply, she gasped.

“Holy shit, babes, don’t turn around, but there’s this fine-ass guy behind you,” she said. Without thinking you turned your whole body to look at the guy she was talking about.

“Or just turn your whole body, I don't care,” she added, rolling her eyes.

“Wait, who?” you asked, staring at the group of boys in front of you. They were all cute, just not your type whatsoever. “He just turned around, so you can’t see his face, but the one with the black beanie,” Amelia whispered to you as she took a sip of her Dr Pepper.

As you stared at the back of the boy who was engrossed in a conversation with his friend, a loud laugh escaped his lips before he threw his head back, letting you catch a glimpse of his face.

“Oh, fuck, his laugh is hot as fuck as well,” Amelia said behind you, chewing on her crispy fries. “Do you think he has a girlfrien—“ The words melted from your mouth as the beanie boy turned around. “Yeah, he definitely has a girlfriend,” Amelia said nonchalantly, clearly not catching how your eyes widened, as you both stare at the boy who had cut in front of you in line three years ago.

He was taller, much taller, and he was built—you could tell even from his oversized long-sleeve shirt. As much as you wanted to disagree, he was undeniably attractive. The eyebrow piercing was still there, but it somehow looked better than when you first saw it.

“Ribbons?” he said, pointing at you with a chuckle, making you flinch for absolutely no reason. Amelia looked between both of you, trying to read the room.

“Mr. anti-romantic?” You fired back, a huge smile breaking out on his face before he excused himself from his friend group and made his way to your booth. “I see you got a nickname for me... I feel honored,” he said, pressing a palm to his heart dramatically before shooting a nod at Amelia, who waved with a small smile on her face.

You just rolled your eyes. He was the most childish person you had ever met, and that says a lot since this was only the second time you'd ever spoken to him. “I wouldn’t be so honored,” you mumbled, shooting him a tight-lipped smile as he shook his head with a low chuckle.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Amelia said out of nowhere, both you and the unknown boy's heads snap to the side as a smirk makes it’s way to his mouth, while you throw daggers at Amelia with your eyes for her blunt question. “I doubt he would ever hav—“ you start, only to be rudely interrupted by none other than Mr. anti-romantic himself.

“I actually do, and I was just about to meet her here, but I saw your friend and just had to come and say hello,” he said to your best friend, all while wearing a condescending smile.

“Oof, I feel bad for her,” you shrugged, before placing the straw of your clear cup in your mouth and sipping on your coke.

“Eh, she says I’m a pretty good boyfriend, not a hopeless romantic like someone I know,” he said, watching your eyes meet his before you tilted your head in a mocking way, which he picked up immediately.

“I wonder how you even got her to say yes to you,” you bit back, your eyes maintaining contact with his, not wanting to be the first to break it. But he was too good at it; you almost felt like crumbling into a ball from how intense his stare was.

“I guess you could say there are more ways to please a woman without love letters,” he said nonchalantly. You choked on your coke as the liquid went down the wrong pipe, making you start having a coughing attack.

His and Amelia’s eyes widened as Amelia immediately swatted the man who was right beside you. His hand made contact with your arm, raising it up in the air.

“The fuck are you doing?” Amelia said aggressively, side-eyeing him, as you basically died in front of their wondering eyes. You really didn’t expect him to just talk about his sexual life so openly without a care. You would want to crawl into a hole if your boyfriend ever talked about your private moments like that to anyone.

“My mom said if you put someone’s hand up, it makes your cough go away. I don’t fucking know! I’m not a doctor,” he shot back at your best friend as he raised your arm in the air. Your cough slightly disappeared as you tapped on your chest as if that would do anything to stop it.

“Are you good?” Amelia said as she basically hovered over the table. You felt the whole dinner's eyes on you as you tried to recover from the insane coughing fit you just had. “Y-yeah, fuck,” you coughed, your arms still up in the air from his hold. “I almost for real thought you were about to die. I already imagined myself behind bars,” he said, rubbing his unoccupied hand through his face with a sigh.

“Now I’m hoping I actually died,” you said, yanking your arm away from his grasp.

“We’re leaving, Amelia. Let’s go,” you said, standing up, collecting your jacket and bag, and pushing him out of the way, standing up beside him.

He hovered over you; you almost wanted to jump up to reach his height, but you were already embarrassed enough. So instead, you fixed your denim skirt before looking up at him.

“Well, it was so not nice to see you again, and hopefully we don’t get to meet again, Mr. anti-romantic. Goodbye,” you said as you sent him a fake smile his way.

You pulled on Amelia’s hand before she could say anything and walked out of the dining room without looking back at the boy who was standing in the same place, watching the girl he almost witnessed pass away by choking on coke from him even remotely bringing up sex.

A small chuckle left past his lips as he made his way to the table where his friends were seated.

“Dude, what the fuck happened? Why was that pretty girl coughing like crazy?” Taehyung said, eyeing the door through which you had just left.

Jungkook didn’t know why his heart picked up when his best friend called you pretty. He wasn’t blind; you were beautiful. When he first met you, you both were obviously much younger. If it wasn’t for how much you had grown into your face and the braces you once had were long gone, it would’ve been your aura that gave it away. You were more outspoken, which kinda took him back but sent a sense of excitement through his body.

“No clue. Just some girl I met in my senior year... kinda taken aback I ran into her again,” Jungkook said before picking up the menu from the table, looking for what food he should order. “Maybe it’s fate, bro,” Namjoon teased, which made Jungkook drop his menu on the table.

“You guys know all that shit is bullshit, right? It was just a coincidence. I’ll probably never see her again after this,” Jungkook rolled his eyes, leaning backward onto the booth and crossing his arms in front of him defensively.

“Whatever you say, champion,” Hoseok whistled as he called the waitress.

Jungkook's brain immediately canceled out the noise as he started running through all the possible scenarios that would leave you both at the same place at the same time. His body shook from the possibility of it being fate; he hated the idea of the answer being anything besides actual proven fact. He didn’t care how cynical he might sound; he had trusted so many people in his life, including his parents, who always preached about love and honesty. But flash forward to him having to skip around each house of his parents every weekday and weekend. He hated how he believed them when they said love can get through everything. Absolutely not—divorce.

He just imagined your perfect household, two parents at the same home who still say ‘I love you’ to each other every chance they get. You get to read your books in your living room without a fight breaking out out of nowhere just because someone forgot to throw the trash out.

Love didn’t exist in his eyes. He believed in mutual respect. He doesn’t believe in the whole crazy in love charade. His girlfriend Haneul didn’t really want the whole whispering cute things in each other's ears or dancing under the moon either, and that’s why he chose her.

Plus, he wasn’t an asshole when it came to love when it came to other people. Did he want to ruin their moment and tell them they wouldn’t last? Yes—but he never does.

He saw how broken his mom was after the divorce. He thought about the idea of love and if someone came to love you, you would do anything in your power to not hurt them. It had been five years since his parents’ divorce, and everyone seemed to have moved on perfectly, while Jungkook watched how his perspective of love changed drastically over time.

He was glad that you didn’t have to go through what he had to go through, given your obvious naivety. That was entirely the only reason he shit-talked about love when he first met you, which was the most jackass move he could’ve done, especially after you let him skip the line. But after you told on him to the cashier like a little child, he was thinking of actually tackling you.

Either way, it didn’t matter for him to be worrying or thinking about you in the first place, when he didn’t even know your name. Plus, he would never see you again, that’s for sure.

Present day..

Psychology class was your number one nemesis. You literally begged the counselor to let you have another class that wasn’t psychology. Not only did he laugh, but he said it would do you good. In your mind, he basically called you crazy—maybe you did need the class after all.

As you huffed and puffed to your last class of the day, you fixed your glasses on your face and tightened the high ponytail with the white ribbon that matched the outfit Amelia helped you pick out. You pushed open the door to the class and were greeted by half-empty seats and no professor, giving you the option to choose where you sat.

You were a middle-seat row girl, unable to see far away without your glasses. You also avoided sitting too close to the front, fearing teachers would call on you.

As you took a seat in the chair, a body sat beside you without a word. You didn’t even care to look as you took out your laptop from your backpack, worrying about how this year’s professor might be. You had heard from last year’s students that the teacher might have been the devil’s spawn.

While you were finally seated, you moved your head to your left to see the body next to you engrossed in their phone. Your jaw dropped as you were met with none other than Mr. Anti-Romantic.

“What the actual fuck, are you stalking me or something?” you said, absolutely baffled by how many times you had run into him and from all the empty seats, he decided to sit next to you.

He immediately raised his head from his phone, his eyes widening as he stared at your obviously angry face. “Ribbons? What the actual fuck, I didn’t realize that was you,” he said, throwing his head back in shock.

“You had to know it was me, why else would you sit beside me?” you scoffed, crossing your arms in front of you. He looked the same as the last time you saw him, except now he had a full sleeve of tattoos on his right arm, and the eyebrow piercing was long gone.

Now that he was closer to you, you could see the small mole he had under his lip and the scar on his cheek. His hair was shorter and black, but classroom lights deceived, so maybe it was fully brown, but you didn’t dare to ask.

“Don’t think you’re special, Ribbons. I just can’t see from the back, and in the front, teachers always pick on you to talk in front of the class, and I’m trying to avoid that,” he explained, having the same process as you, but unfortunately, the other half of his brain didn’t process the idea of love.

“Are you sure you have the right class?” you bit out, hoping he had walked into the wrong class and would have to leave immediately. You seriously couldn’t even wrap your head around the fact that he was here and that he went to the same university as you—this being the first time he had seen you around campus.

“Psychology class A65,” he side-eyed you as you rolled your eyes and faced the board, trying your best to ignore his presence.

“You know you can just move to another seat, right?” he said, pointing to all the empty seats beside you. Your head slowly turned to the side to face his face as he gave you a tight-lipped smile.

“Why would I move when I was here first?” you scoffed his way as he shrugged, indicating that he couldn’t care less. “’Cause I truly don’t care, but you obviously seem affected by my presence, so Ribbons, pick your seat,” he pointed to the available seats.

You imagined the easiest way you could kill someone, but tackling him to the ground at this exact moment might bring attention to you both, so you just breathed out of your nose before giving him a fake smile and rolling your eyes.

“I’m not leaving, and for your information, I’m perfectly fine and not bothered by your presence whatsoever,” you said, trying your best to seem as calm and collected as possible.

“For your information…” he mocked beside you, trying to imitate your voice before chuckling. “I swear, Ribbons, I can see smoke coming out of your ears and nose,” he laughed.

“Stop calling me Ribbons,” you gritted your teeth, already at your limit.

“What else do you want me to call you? I don’t know your name, and you’re still wearing ribbons, I can see,” Mr. Anti-Romantic pointed to the white ribbon in your hair. You rolled your eyes before sending his calm, collected figure a scanty smile.

“Y/n,” you said, tilting your head to the side, as if asking him to tell you his name. “I like Mr. Anti-Romantic, not gonna lie,” he bit his lip, trying to contain his laughter as you were about to lose your composure at any moment.

“You aggravate me, and I don’t know why,” you mumbled, hoping he didn’t hear—but he did, loud and clear. “Jeon Jungkook,” he said, and before you could reply, the professor strode in, wearing the weirdest clothes you could imagine.

“She looks like that one crazy Victorious teacher,” he whispered softly, only for you to hear, smugly bending downward so you could hear better. A small laugh left your lips. “Sikowitz?” you whispered back as both of you stared forward at the professor, who was talking about the syllabus. “Yeah, spot the difference: hard level,” he whispered.

You looked down at your hands, trying to hide the amusement on your face.

For the rest of the class, you guys didn’t talk whatsoever, and honestly, you wouldn’t know if he tried, since you were absorbed in whatever Mrs. Calderon was saying.

“So, here’s where you start hating me, I’m giving you guys a project,” she said, leaning on her desk, making the desk creak. You could hear small groans from students around you, but not loud enough for her to hear.

“It will be a partner project, which I chose randomly, and no, I’m not changing them. I want you guys to be able to work with whomever, no matter what,” she said, a sense of dread passing through you.

“I would email each and every one of you what the project is about. It is due at the end of the quarter, so I better not hear, ‘I didn’t have time, Miss,’” Mrs. Calderon said before picking up a sheet of paper.

"Here are the partners, so after class, come and check who your partner is so you can start talking about what you both will do." With that the bell ringing, everyone stood up and rushed to the paper, including yourself. You held tightly onto your backpack strap as you waited for people to move out of the way—half of the people bitched about who they got, they couldn’t possibly be that bad.

Your heart dropped to your ass as you read your name—Jungkook squished beside you, looking for his name, only to find it where your finger was already on.

You got paired up with Jungkook. What kind of fuckery was this?

As Jungkook read "Y/n Y/ln & Jeon Jungkook," he couldn’t believe his eyes. He almost lost his mind when he realized it was you when he sat next to you, but he tried his best to act unaffected. However, this was too much of a "fuck you" sign from the universe—Jungkook didn’t think he did something so horribly to be rewarded like this.

What the fuck were the odds, and how could he scientifically prove that it’s not the universe trying to mess with him?

Taglist💌— @httpjeonlicious @thekookiedealer @somehowukook @taiwan0618 @gwsjungkookie @seokout @sealuv79 @junecat18 @joonsanswer @letjungcoook7 @skzthinker @ahgasegotarmy116recs @ivygguk (I couldn’t add some idk why😓)

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