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#would love to know what the final straw was here
wolverigrl · 2 days
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Request for Hugh story.
The reader gets a little jealous when Hugh has to spend some time with his ex wife and kids, so to show his girlfriend just how much he loves her. Hugh makes her romantic dinner just for them.
Jelousy
Hugh Jackman x reader
!A/N! I hope you like this requested story! <3
Warnings: jealousy, cheesy, nothing more!
Enjoy!
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It had been a year and a half since Hugh and I had started dating. The first year had been incredible - dream-like, really. But things had changed. It started slowly, creeping in like an unwanted shadow. His work, the endless promotion for his new movie, had taken over our lives. We barely saw each other anymore. And when he wasn’t jetting across the globe for press junkets, he was here in New York - spending time with his ex-wife and their kids.
I knew it was important for him to be there for them, to maintain that family bond. And I understood that. I tried to understand it. But lately, it felt like I was always waiting. Waiting for him to come home. Waiting for some kind of sign that I still mattered.
And today? Today was the final straw.
I had seen the photos online—Hugh and Deborra-Lee with their kids, laughing, looking so perfect together. Like nothing had ever changed between them. It wasn’t rational, I knew that. He had been married to her for years, and they shared a lot of history. But no matter how hard I tried to suppress it, the jealousy kept bubbling up inside me, threatening to spill over.
So when Hugh finally walked through the door that evening, his face lit up with a tired but warm smile, I couldn’t hold back anymore.
"Had a good day?" I asked, my tone far too sharp for what was supposed to be a casual question.
He dropped his keys on the counter and looked at me, confused by the edge in my voice. "Yeah... spent the day with the kids. It was nice. What about you?"
"Great." I replied, unable to mask the bitterness. "Saw the pictures. You all looked... happy."
Hugh's brows furrowed. "What do you mean? Of course, we were happy. I was spending time with the kids- "
"And your ex-wife." I cut him off, my arms crossing defensively. "You’ve been spending a lot of time with her, haven’t you?"
He stared at me, his confusion deepening. "Y/n, she's the mother of my kids. We’re not together, you know that. You have nothing to worry about."
"I don’t?" I scoffed, shaking my head. "Because it feels like I’m the last thing on your mind these days. I’m starting to forget what it’s like to even have you around."
Hugh stepped toward me, his voice soft but firm. "That’s not fair, y/n. You know how crazy things have been with the movie, and I’m trying to be there for the kids. It’s complicated."
"Yeah, it is complicated!" I snapped, my frustration boiling over. I could feel the words tumbling out of me, unstoppable now. "I would never ask you to choose between me and them, Hugh, but I’m not asking for much. I just want to feel like I matter too."
He ran a hand through his hair, clearly exasperated but trying to stay calm. "You do matter. You know you do."
"Do I?" I shot back, my voice cracking despite my best efforts to stay composed. "Because lately, it feels like I’m just here. Waiting for you to remember I exist!"
Hugh’s expression softened, his frustration giving way to something more vulnerable. "Love, come on... it’s not like that."
But I couldn’t listen anymore. The flood of emotions was too much, and I needed space. "I need to get out of here." I muttered, grabbing my coat and heading for the door.
"Y/n, wait!" Hugh called after me, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. I just needed air, space - anything to clear my head. The door clicked shut behind me, and I found myself walking aimlessly through the streets of New York, my emotions swirling in my chest like a storm.
The crisp night air hit my face as I wandered through the city. My mind raced as I replayed the argument over and over. Why had I let it get this far? Why hadn’t I talked to him sooner, before it all exploded like this? I knew he wasn’t intentionally pushing me away, but lately, it felt like I was invisible.
After an hour of walking and stewing in my own thoughts, I realized I needed to head back. I couldn’t avoid this forever. We needed to talk - really talk. And maybe I needed to apologize for being... well, dramatic. I sighed, turning back toward the apartment, my steps slower, more thoughtful.
When I finally reached the door, I took a deep breath, expecting tension. But as I stepped inside, I was met with something completely unexpected.
The lights were dim, and there was soft music playing in the background. I slipped off my shoes and walked towards the kitchen. The smell of something delicious - my favorite dish - wafted through the air. Candles flickered gently on the dining table, which had been set for two. The entire room felt warm and inviting, a strong contrast to the storm that had been brewing between us earlier.
I stood frozen in the corridor, blinking in disbelief. Hugh emerged from the kitchen, his eyes soft and apologetic as he wiped his hands on a towel.
"Hey." he said gently, his voice carrying a tenderness that tugged at my heart. "I, uh... I made dinner. I figured we could use some time, just the two of us."
I stared at him, the earlier frustration slowly melting away. "Hugh... you didn’t have to do all this."
"Yes, I did." he said, stepping closer. His eyes searched mine, and the sincerity in them made my chest tighten. "I’ve been so caught up in everything - work, the kids - that I forgot to make time for us. And that’s not okay. You’re right."
I bit my lip, guilt washing over me. "I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I just... I was feeling- "
"I know." he interrupted softly, his hands reaching out to gently hold mine. "And I get it. I should’ve been more present with you. I never meant to make you feel like you didn’t matter because you do, more than anything."
I swallowed hard, my heart swelling as I looked up at him. The anger, the jealousy - it all felt so small now. He had always been the man who showed up, who cared, even when life got overwhelming. And right now, he was standing here, showing me exactly how much I meant to him.
"I’m sorry." I whispered, my voice trembling as I squeezed his hands.
Hugh shook his head, his thumbs brushing over my knuckles gently. "I’m sorry too. I love you, y/n. I never want you to feel like you’re anything less than my priority."
The weight of his words settled over me, soothing the ache I’d been carrying for days. I let out a shaky breath, feeling the tension between us dissolve. "I love you too." I said softly, my heart swelling with the truth of it.
He smiled, that familiar, warm smile that made me feel like everything was going to be okay. "So... how about we start over? No more fighting. Just... dinner."
I nodded, smiling despite myself. "Yeah. I’d like that."
We sat down at the table, and the moment was so simple, so intimate. Hugh had made my favorite dish - pasta with that special sauce he always made when we had date nights at home. The food was incredible, but what made it even better was the way we kept stealing glances at each other, the quiet joy in the air as we ate.
By the time we were done, my heart felt lighter. We moved to the couch, and I leaned into him as his arms wrapped around me, pulling me close. I could feel the warmth of his chest, his heartbeat steady and reassuring.
"I missed this." I whispered, resting my head against him.
Hugh pressed a kiss to the top of my head, his lips lingering there for a moment. "I missed you. I hate that I made you feel like I wasn’t here. I’ll do better, I promise."
I tilted my head up to look at him, my eyes meeting his. The tenderness in his gaze made my heart skip a beat. "You always show up when it matters, Hugh. I just... I need to know you’ll keep doing that."
"I will," he murmured, his voice low and earnest. "You’re not an afterthought, Y/N. You’re my home."
Those words wrapped around me, filling the cracks that had formed over the past few weeks. I reached up, cupping his face as I kissed him softly, pouring every bit of love and gratitude I felt into that kiss.
When we pulled away, I couldn’t help but smile. "You really went all out, huh? Cooking, candles... the whole deal."
Hugh grinned, his eyes twinkling. "Well, I figured you deserved a little romance after putting up with me."
I laughed softly, leaning in closer. "I think we both deserved it."
He tilted his head down, kissing the top of mine softly. "I don’t ever want you to doubt how much I love you. I know I’ve been distracted, but I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere."
My heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his voice wrapping around me like a promise. I looked up at him, meeting his gaze. "I know." I whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek. "And I love you. I just... needed to hear it."
He smiled, a lazy, boyish grin that made my stomach flutter. "Then I’ll make sure you hear it more often."
He leaned down, brushing his lips against mine, slow and sweet, like he had all the time in the world just to kiss me. It wasn’t rushed or desperate. It was full of everything - love, reassurance, and that deep, quiet connection we shared. When we finally pulled away, our foreheads rested against each other, and I could feel his breath against my lips.
We stayed wrapped up together on the couch, the warmth of his body melting away any lingering tension. His arm was draped protectively around my shoulders, pulling me close, while I rested my head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was comforting, grounding. Every time I shifted, he pulled me in just a little tighter, like he couldn’t stand the thought of even an inch between us.
"You know." he murmured, his fingers lazily tracing circles on my arm, "I’ve missed this. Just being here with you. No noise, no schedules. Just... us."
I smiled into his chest, feeling the softness of his words settle over me like a warm blanket. "I’ve missed it too. More than I realized."
We sat there for a while longer, the quiet of the apartment settling around us. Hugh shifted slightly, pulling a blanket over us and tucking it in around my shoulders. He kissed my forehead again, lingering as though he couldn’t help himself.
"And you know." he whispered softly, his voice like velvet against the night air, "you’re my favorite part of everything. Of coming home, of my whole day. You’re it."
My heart melted. I snuggled deeper into his embrace, closing my eyes as I felt the warmth of his love surround me. "You’re my favorite too." I whispered back, feeling safe, cherished, and so completely loved.
We stayed that way, wrapped up in each other, letting the world fade away. No more jealousy, no more distance. Just us, together. And in that moment, everything felt perfect - like this was exactly where we were supposed to be.
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I'd appreciate feedback! <3
xoxo
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synthville · 1 year
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“I don’t think you understand just how much it sucked to be your kid.”
RAFFI MUSIKER - ST: PIC - S01E05
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asterias-record-shop · 6 months
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not-so-secret secret (t.n. & m.r.)
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Theo has always had a crush on you, but with you being his best friend's step-sister, he never did anything… but then he realized how close Mattheo was to you. Got damn, this drabble is 2.3K words.
“You can’t date my bloody sister,” Mattheo snapped, shaking his head before throwing his head back to chug down a shot of firewhisky. “You’re fucking insane.”
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Theo shook his head along with Mattheo, sighing. “Y-You know that I wouldn’t-“
“With the way you look at her, yeah you would,” Mattheo shook his head as his eyes trailed your form at the Slytherin party, a slight bite of his lip making Theo look at you too. “Angel! Come over here.”
You paused your actions of dancing with your friends, grabbing your drink to walk over to the two friends. Theo loved to watch you saunter over, your hips swaying as you stood next to Mattheo who wrapped his arm around your waist to pull you flush against his side.
“Go get me another drink, yeah?” Mattheo looked up at you as you hummed softly, giving him yours.
“I’m not going to finish it, I didn’t like it,” you explained as he took it, seemingly not bothered that your step-brother had his arm wrapped around you.
Theo didn’t have siblings, so that must have been normal, right?
“Thank you, angel,” he hummed as he took your drink, taking a sip before jerking his head at Theo. “Get Theo a drink then, yeah? He needs one.”
You hummed again, nodding as you smiled at Theo. “What do you want?”
“Whatever,” Theo wasn’t going to be picky when you were going to get him a drink. “I’ll take whatever you get for me.”
You nodded, letting your fingers twirl in his hair. “Okay.”
It was a simple reaction for him to lean into your touch making you giggle, his head following your touch before you walked away, making Mattheo laugh. “Goodness… you’re fucking whipped.”
Quickly, Theo looked over, shaking his head. “N-No, I’m not-”
“Yes the fuck you are,” Mattheo’s voice has a dangerous bite to it as he glared at Theo. “You better stay the fuck away from her.”
This was confusing to Theodore. He watched as you walked over, your green dress slipping further up your thighs as you weaved through people, but he watched as you finally stood in front of him and gave him the drink. “Here! I got you your favorite.”
“Thanks, Y/N,” Theo said as you sat on the couch between the two of them, lifting up your legs to place your thighs on Mattheo’s. Theo watched as you did so, swallowing as you looked at him before taking a sip through the tiny straw. “Mmm, it’s good.”
“Is it?” You sat up straighter, leaning towards him. “Can I try it?”
“Yeah, of course,” he offered the cup to you in his hand, watching as you took the straw and slowly took a sip. “Good?”
You hummed, smiling as you took out the straw with your teeth before licking the bottom to get the drops that began to fall. “Mmm, so good,” you hummed before giving him the straw, putting it between his teeth as he opened his mouth. “Do you mind if we share?”
“Of course not.”
Mattheo’s hand moved to your thigh, squeezing in almost a warning-like way. It did not concern you, though, not when tonight was your night to tempt him – to tease him.
“Angel,” Mattheo warned, but it didn’t seem like Theo heard as he offered his drink to you and watched as you took a large sip, never breaking eye contact. “Stop it.”
You did not listen, offering it back to Theo and purposely letting some of the liquor fall down your lips before swiping at it with your thumb and licking it off. Theo’s eyes continued to follow you, never looking away as you tilted your head slightly.
By Merlin’s name, Theo was fine.
“Are you single, Theo?”
Your question made him swallow, inhaling slightly, before nodding. “Yes.”
“I am too,” you smiled, and your words made Mattheo’s grip tighten on your thigh as you bit your lip slightly at the feeling.
“I know.”
You were about to respond before Mattheo dragged you out, Theo swallowing as you both disappeared. At first, he waited a few minutes, he waited for you both to come back, but you didn’t.
So he went out to look for you both.
At first, it took him a minute to find out where you both were, but a few harsh breaths made his stomach twist.
“No! No, I w-won’t do it again, I promise!” A voice sobbed, stuttering before gags fell from your mouth.
“Yes you will,” another harsh voice bit back, the gags getting louder as Theo turned a corner, the sight of you pressed against one of the castle pillars with Mattheo’s fingers shoved down your throat certainly a sight to see.
It took Theo a second to register the fact that Mattheo had his slacks down to his knees as he fucked into you from behind, white pearlescent liquid running down your inner thighs as he breathed heavily.
“You love being a teasing little slut… mmm, your pussy is always so open whenever I don’t fuck you because you’re such a desperate little whore,” Mattheo growled back in response, his other hand pushing forward to slap against your clit. A yelp fell from your lips as Mattheo’s hips got faster, his harsh breaths turning into loud, guttural moans as his fingers twisted your sensitive bud. “You’re such a fucking whore… desperate for your step-brother’s cock, aren’t you a whore angel? Hm?”
His fingers pushed farther down your throat as you gagged, tears streaming down your cheeks as you nodded mindlessly.
This sight shouldn’t have been a turn on, but it was. Cum covering your inner thighs as he fucked into you, globs of arousal continuing to fall down your thighs and make a messy puddle on the floor. How long had he been fucking you? How many times have you cum?
The mere thought made Theo rock hard, and he couldn’t help himself, pushing his hands down to start undoing his pants and pumping himself, groaning as he tilted back his head. It was so perverted what he was doing, but he couldn’t stop himself – besides, there was no way Mattheo would ever let him have you.
He was always so submissive with you, he couldn’t help it, but now he knew your not-so-secret secret, and now he knew what to do.
So, as soon as he finished jacking himself off – he knew exactly what to do.
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The next day, he saw Mattheo – who was grinning like he knew Theo saw you both fucking last night. Like he knew Theo would follow you both out.
“Mattheo,” Theo smiled as he stood in front of his best friend, tilting his head. “You’re happy today.”
“Mmm, I had a good night,” Mattheo was sick and Theo knew it, but it was as though that sickness was slowly spreading to Theo as he leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “I’m pretty sure I just got a girl pregnant, and I think you know exactly who I’m talking about. You’re not exactly the most quiet person when you jack off.”
Theo just hummed in response, but leaned closer to Mattheo’s ear. “I know I’m not. And I’m going to be just as loud when I tell every press outlet that Voldemort’s son is a sick bastard who fucks his pretty little step-sister unless you let me fuck her too.”
Mattheo pulled away, a smirk on his face as he tilted his head. “Took you long enough.”
“Matty, what’s going on?” You were shocked when Mattheo took his fingers out of you, and instead of putting his cock in you to replace his digits, he stepped back. “Matty!”
“Hush angel,” he whispers, smiling as the door slowly begins to open. It was a normal reaction for you to try and cover yourself before Mattheo leaned down quickly, grabbing your wrists with one hand and pinning them to the mattress. “What are you doing, huh?”
“M-Mattheo, who is it-”
“Hey pretty girl,” Theo’s voice rang out, a soft moan escaping your mouth when you saw him pumping his cock.
The sight of Theo walking toward you, pumping himself as Mattheo went around your body, keeping your hands pinned down as he slowly hovered above your face. “You remember how you felt watched last night, angel? Well, there’s our audience…”
Theo’s eyes never looked away from your soaked cunt, your cum running down your beautiful, wet folds before he kneeled between your legs and held your plush thighs to his hips. “Mhm… and now it’s time to be more involved, darling…”
“W-Wait-!” You groaned as he pushed into you, your words leaving your mind as your voice disappeared as Theo started to rut his hips. Your mind went blank as you desperately tried to rut your hips into his in response, Mattheo stroking his tip all along your face with a smirk.
“You really are a whore… so desperate for any cock to fuck into you and fill your womb up with cum.”
You were about to bite back with a more harsh response, but Mattheo only took that as an entrance into your mouth, slamming his hips forward into your mouth making you choke. Your throat was still sore from last night, a whine falling from your lips before you started to gag with every thrust.
The feeling of your cunt was absolute heaven to Theo, and this gave him the chance to fully give into his more harsh code. Normally, he would have been more gentle, but he couldn’t. Mattheo’s sickness has spread to him, and now, he would never be able to go back.
“Fucking bloody hell,” Theodore moaned out, throwing his head back as he sets into a steady pace fucking into you, loud groans falling from his lips with every thrust. “She’s so fucking wet.”
“Mmm, just wait until you get her mouth,” Mattheo spoke smugly, his cock dragging and fucking down your throat roughly, as though he did not care if he would hurt you. Truthfully, he did not care if he would hurt you and you both knew that, but sometimes he felt nice. “Fuck angel, Theo knows our secret now… he can fuck you whenever he pleases and he won’t tell anyone…”
You whined loudly around his cock, hips bucking unconsciously as you tried to squeeze your thighs together, Theodore’s hands quickly going down to press your thighs to the bed. “Uh uh, my darling,” he groaned, his thrusts getting rougher as he grunted. “You’re not fucking moving away from me… merlin, you have a better cunt than I could have ever imagine, holy shit…” he drawled on in a loud moan, his hips stuttering as Mattheo cackled.
“Are you close already? You’re truly acting like a fucking virgin, come on angel, make him cum.”
You always listened to Mattheo, beginning to rock your hips into Theo’s who moaned loudly as you did so, leaning forward and fucking into you at a new position. The feeling made you moan and gag around Mattheo’s cock, the feeling of two cocks inside of you making you go insane as your stomach began to twist. It was your third orgasm, the feeling making you whine as the pit of your stomach began to feel like it was almost burning, a pulsing heat from your clit as Theo’s thumb swiped repeatedly over the sensitive bud. You gagged as you self-consciously needed to beg to cum, strangled words escaping making Mattheo groan.
“She’s about to cum. You have to listen to her beg.”
He pulled his cock out of your mouth making you cough repeatedly, but Theo’s hips only got faster, a broken wail coming from your mouth. “W-Wait! Th-Theo, it’s too much, t-too much!”
Mattheo continued to pump his cock above your face, ready to spurt cum all over you. “Beg to cum, angel, or I’ll make him pull out of you so quick you won’t even get to force yourself.”
The thought made you wail, a soft sob coming from your mouth as you eagerly nodded your head. “Pl-Please, Theo! Please, I want to cum, I want to cum!”
Theo only let out a guttural groan, barely able to speak as his thrusts got faster, hitting that spot inside of you that made your mind blur and your stomach hit that peak as your vision went black.
“Fucking cum. Cum, you stupid fucking slut,” he was finally giving into that need to be cruel, that sickness that Mattheo harnessed in the most possessive way – the need to truly use you like a fuck toy.
As Theo moaned loudly, his hips still not pausing in their rough thrusts while he came inside of you, fucking his cum deeper inside of you as you came with a loud, broken scream, Mattheo laughed as he pumped himself, spurting perfect ropes of cum all along your lips and chin, even spurting some into your mouth and on your neck.
The three of you slowly rode out your highs, Theo unable to stop the movements of his hips as Mattheo let go of your hands and let his now slightly softened cock settle on your chin with his balls in your mouth. It was his way of ordering you to continue to pump him, which you did as you suckled carefully against his ball sac.
“Fuck,” Theo whispered breathlessly, inhaling as his thrusts began to feel more composed, a whine falling from your lips. “She looks so hot.”
“I know,” Mattheo whispered, stroking your hair as you tilted your head to the side to keep eye contact with him. “She can suck you off, too. As soon as you stop hogging her cunt.”
This made Theo laugh as your eyes rolled back. Maybe it was good to have an audience, after all.
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I do not ever give consent to my work being published on other platforms or being translated at any point, even if it is a request. If my work is on any other platform, it’s without my permission. Your media consumption is not my responsiblity.
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© asterias-record-shop
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bountycancelled · 1 year
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OPLA characters reacting to a sweet, girly reader who turns out to be a a ruthless fighter
genre: headcanons, fem! reader, kinda suggestive??, idfk just read it bro
requested: nope, but reqs are open! pls, for the love of god, request for the opla♡
feat: zoro, sanji
a/n: reader's feminine but not female if that makes sense, only witting again because I'm obsessed with the one piece live action. also, this may be a little ooc, since I haven't watched the anime/read the manga, sorry about that! also, if you wanna be added to my perm taglist, pls feel free to ask!
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☆ZORO☆
when you first joined the crew, zoro was immediately unsure of what exactly you brought to the table. I mean, they already had a swordsman, a sharp shooter, a navigator, a dumb cook and a captain/motivational speaker. so what were you doing here?
from luffy's explanation of you, he was aware that you were a good fighter, but he had never seen you in action.
the only things he had seen from you were stuffed animals laying around the ship, pastel outfits he could spot for miles, and bows that had been put in his hair while he slept.
he was tolerant of you at best, and straight up apathetic at worst, but finally, there came a time where someone tried picking a fight with you since you seemed like an easy target while you were walking with him and nami.
although he wasn't particularly fond of you (lies), he still felt the need to defend you as a crewmate, but the ass whooping you gave the stranger made him freeze in place.
there was blood splatter on your pretty face, deep red sploches of your cute clothes, and a look of pure hatred in your eyes. and you had never looked more beautiful in zoros eyes.
that was the first time zoro had ever smiled at you. sure, he had slightly smirked at your cuter tendencies, but in that moment he was truly smitten with you.
from that day, zoro wanted to train with you. what you lacked that he had in experience, you made up for in absolute cruelty when fighting. you were quick, agile and you weren't afraid to make zoro hurt, and he loved every second of it.
zoro would sometimes smile when he saw bruising on his body from his time training with you but catch himself and go stone faced immediately. no, he was not falling for you, absolutely not.
except he was, and the next time you showed up by his side with a slight limp, some tears in your cotton candy coloured clothes, blood all over you, and a sadistic smile on your face, he would tell you as much.
SANJI♡
sanji is unsurprisingly, enamoured by you the second you join the straw hats.
I'm talking, looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, cheesy and constant compliments like "you're cuter than any of your stuffed animals, yn-swan~" and even brushing up on his baking skills to bake you aesthetically pleasing sweet treats that always put a smile on your face.
if I'm being completely honest, it doesn't bother him that he doesn't know exactly what your strengths are, you could be amazing at everything like barbie or you could literally not know night from day and he'd still admire you all the same.
one day, you're wearing bottoms that are on the shorter side not that sanji minds at all and you're out exploring the island you're at with him by your side, holding all your bags because in his words "angels don't do hard labour when he's around" when someone decides to hit on you.
you reject them politely, but when they make a less than appropriate comment about your outfit, you click your tongue and shake your head, readying yourself to hospitalise someone.
sanji's mood switches to one of being happy because he's around you to one of murderous intent the second this rando tries you, but you already have them wheezing on the floor with broken nose before sanji can even lift his leg off of the ground.
you're back to usual self, fixing the bow on your hair while complaining about how fucking hard it is to get blood stains off of your clothes, while sanji is thinking about how fucking hard he is
safe to say that this heartless, terrifying side of you makes sanji fall even harder and question whether or not he's a masochist.
he'll still insist on doing things like carrying you anywhere (most of your shoes you impractical as fuck, but style>functionality always) lifting things for you and treating you like a piece of fine china because that's exactly what you deserve, no matter how badass you are.
only difference is, now he'll never come to aid when it comes to kicking ass, because he enjoys seeing you take people to heaven and back more than anything.
he compliments now range from "omg you are the most adorable, lovable, doll-like angel I've ever seen" to "please punch me, step on me, make my nose bleed, choke me-" and he's now ten times more annoying about you than he was before, which no one thought was possible.
believe me when I say that images of you in frilly outfits with your eyes gleaming like diamonds eveytime you make someone bleed occupy 90% of his thoughts. (the other 10% is all things cooking, of course.)
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ghostnokia · 2 years
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oceantornadoo · 2 months
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you: an absolute teeth-aching bone deep want to be loved and to give love. that hollow feeling behind your chest is too familiar and you want it gone. you just want to be in love, to treat someone with gentleness and to be wanted.
your 141 bae who has been in love with you since the moment he met you: ...i'm right here
gn!reader headcanons below the cut:
childhood best friend simon: let's say you knew him before he lost his family. a scrawny-limbed blond, always willing to extend a trip to the park or a cigarette behind school - anything to not go home. you'd visit him when he started part-time as a butcher in high school, wrinkling your nose at the smell of bloody meat but staying anyways, doing your homework at the singular table in the shop. he was there when you moved away from town, for college or a new job or any life-altering decision that he was secondary to, something simon could only hope to grasp. once he leaves for the military, you mourn your relationship and move on. simon is a blur in your mind, a reminder of snow days and sweet tea summers and leaf piles and dandelion picking, on a nostalgic shelf in the untouched corners of your brain. ten years later, you've finally made a name for yourself and truly gotten out; grown roots. but you still have this soul-deep yearning, some unfamiliar-shaped hole in your chest that miraculously fills when you open your door to simon, a grown man who's tired of wanting you from afar. tired of stalking your social media and writing fantasies in his head. tired of picking people to fuck just because they look like you, then going soft halfway through because their voice isn't the right pitch. he's here, and he's ready to do whatever it takes.
best friend gaz: now this is different from a childhood best friend, so keep that in mind. gaz is always this guy-next-door type with a panty-dropping smile and impeccable manners. this notion does him some good, helps him avoid some deep-rooted british military prejudices, but it also turns you away. you check him off as nice and place him in the best friend box. you don't understand how he tracks your every move on a mission, almost always getting caught by johnny or price. you miss how he grips his pint ten times harder when he sees you on the pub floor, dancing with some stranger whose hands are a bit too low. he tells you he gets rejected for being "too nice", but really, he ignores his 27 unread DMs and flirty cafe eye contact in favor of movie nights, prank wars, your shitty reality shows. he's grasping onto straws, can't you see sweetheart? when you're drunk and turn into a cuddler, he can pretend just for a second that you truly mean it. gaz lets your hands wander under his shirt, lets you murmur your darkest fear of never being loved into the quietness of your room, leaving you to sleep on top of your covers with a kiss to the forehead. he doesn't know what's pushed him over: you almost dying on that last mission, you making out with a stranger in a bar, you you you in those pants and that shirt and that's it. he has to say something. has to put it all on the line because gaz can't live like this anymore.
best friend's brother price: it was some one-sided crush, your best friend's brother with his suave teenage ways as compared to your brutal tween phase, acne and braces on the way. it had dissipated quickly, john never the wiser, his presence substituted with trendy band obsessions and first kisses. instead, it happened at your best friend's wedding. you were both in the wedding party, some object of fate throwing you together as your best friend forced you two to dance. you were tipsy on champagne, on the happiness of marriage, that you giddily admitted your fleeting childhood crush and how much john had grown since then. and that was it. john was always going to settle down, always going to have a pretty thing waiting for him back home, he just didn't figure out until right now that it would be you. he tries to hide his affections under friendliness, not wanting to ruin your friendship with his sibling, but john has never been discrete. he's suddenly invading your life with offers of fixing your kitchen sink, painting that one spot you can't reach, moving your couch to fit your latest pinterest board. you're practically family, love - which kills all your hopes for something more, feeling like a familyzone. but john means it differently, means you're predestined to be his, already accepted and loved by his loved ones and how could he not see it before? you refuse to accept his kindness and it absolutely kills him, so he scares off potential dates and any chance of meet-cutes with an arm around your waist and why can't you see him the way he sees you?
friends with benefits johnny: it was just sex, right? you'd been the one to say it, the one to set that boundary with your fellow sergeant. you didn't think johnny was capable of more, mistaking his cheeky smirks and booming laugh for being unserious, when in reality, johnny is as serious as it gets. he tells himself he can fuck you because he'll marry you one day, that cross sitting heavy under his shirts. he doesn't wash his sheets for weeks after that first fuck, too busy inhaling the scent of you cumming around his mouth, his cock. that is, until, you tell him his sheets stink and refuse to fuck him and he pretends you're having an argument as a married couple, all intimate and bored. johnny sees a recruit getting too flirty and pulls you into a supply closet using his best distraction methods. he sways you from joining a month's long solo mission, some stupid excuse about missing your lips too much when really he knows it's a suicide mission. johnny forces you to stay over after a midnight fuck, some bullshit about simon being up at that time and seeing you in the hallway on base. in reality, he treasures cuddling you with his brawny arms, pretending you're his willingly. pretending he's made peace with you, this wild creature, never tamed but understood. he can't force himself to ask for more, too scared to lose the crumbs he's holding onto. johnny tries to hide it with a fiery personality and a thick accent, but inside? he's a complete goner.
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vnti-vntiety-recs · 6 months
Text
GUARDIAN GLOVES (M)
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★  PAIRING: Boxer! Jeno x Reader 
☆ WORD COUNT: 12k
★ GENRE(S): Brother’s Bestfriend AU, Childhood Friend AU?, Smut
☆ SUMMARY:  No matter how badly you want to start over, your rebellious past follows you to college, and you can't run from it forever Your brother Jaemin was your rock growing up, but now that he has left for an out-of-state university, he can no longer save you. You do not want to burden your brother's best friend, but he might be the only one who can save you from the person of your past who refuses to let you go.
★ ☆ WARNINGS: Unprotected sex, sexual intercourse, fighting, harassment, and stalking, mentions of violence, guns and drugs, abusive relationships.
☆★ NOTES: Read with caution, please; some scenes can be intense. Leave nice comments, please <3 
It was a mistake; you knew it was a mistake; your brother and friends both told you so. Now, due to the enormous amounts of red flags you have ignored, you have found yourself in some hot water. What can you say? Love makes you blind.
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“You cant keep putting up with this! We need to do something,” your friend Ryujin stressed “This has been going on for too long; im scared something serious might happen” You were worried that wrinkles might form from how much shes been furrowing her brow.
“Im fine! Its not even that serious, ok? Just drop it,” you say, sitting on your bed with your head buried in your hands as your roommate paced the dorm room. You had never seen her so upset. 
“No! I will not sit here while my best friend gets harassed! We need to report this!”
“We are NOT reporting this ryu; that will only make things worse.” you sigh before sitting back to look your friend dead in the eyes
“He pushed you down the stairs!?” 
“It was a mistake!”
You met Yuta during your junior year of high school. He was your typical run-of-the mill bad boy; he skipped classes, hung out late, and got high. You knew he was trouble, but that was what you wanted. You grew up rebellious; you were young and dumb. You just wanted attention, and hanging with the wrong crowd got you plenty. You felt unstoppable when you were with Yuta and his crew. When Yuta would parade you around school in your too-short skirt and pretty long legs, you felt special; you felt wanted. Your friends hated him, and they hated what you became. You didn’t listen to their warnings, and you stuck around. 
You stuck around even when skipped classes turned into stolen cars and the weed highs turned into selling. You were stupid to think you could keep up with his lifestyle. You just wanted to piss your family off. You were used to bad boys, but Yuta was something else. 
She takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself “Look, he's clearly getting bold; I'm afraid he’ll seriously hurt you!” 
“Please, drop it,” you beg in exhaustion. Its been a long day. You had classes all day, and with your yuta problem, you found yourself getting tired a lot faster. You had to turn in his class work on top of yours, which resulted in more time spent in the library. You had been getting home later and later. 
“What about Jaemin? Have you told him? You know he would do anything for you.”
Your brother left for college the year before you. You couldn't ask him to fight your battles  anymore. He got a full ride and was off in another state, living his life, while you were at home bawling your eyes out over the fact that the heartbreaking bad boy broke your heart. 
You had finally broken up with Yuta when you realized he was cheating on you. You should have seen it coming, honestly, The day you checked his phone and found the messages, he didnt even try to pretend like he cared. He had been talking to several other girls while he was with you. You felt so stupid, and that was your last straw. Let us just say he was not happy about it, and he and his friends have been harassing you since.
“That's exactly why I can't tell him; I don't need him flying out just to take care of my issues; I can handle them on my own. He's got his own life; he can't afford any more distractions.”
Your brother was practically your hero growing up. Whenever you were in trouble, he was by your side to protect you. Even though he was really only your stepbrother, he didn’t love you any less. You would always be his little sister.
 Jaemin had been in and out of the boxing ring for years. Bad boyfriends weren't anything new to you or him; he was the one who typically kept them in check. You were the main reason he picked up fighting; he knew, as your older brother, it was his job to protect you, and he would do it to his last breath. He tried to warn you about Yuta, but you didn't listen. You knew he would drop anything if it meant coming to your aid, but you couldn't ask that of him. 
You also know he would never let you live it down. 
You thought once high school was over, you would finally be able to escape Yuta’s torment, but he followed you to your new school. Your brother warned you about him, and now he's not here to protect you anymore. 
"Ok, what about Jeno?” She states hesitantly,
“Absolutely NOT!” you scowl, throwing yourself back into the sheets to hide under the covers
“Yes! Jaemin literally told you to go to him if you need anything! He probably knew you would be too proud to contact him if you were in trouble.”
You sit back up and throw the covers off of you. “It’s not his problem! I got myself into this mess. I'll get myself out, ok?” you state firmly
"Fine, you know what fine, its getting late I’m heading to bed…but I swear if he—”
"Ok, Ryujin, thanks really,” you say sincerely. You could never be mad at Ryujin; she was only looking out for you, and you knew she meant well. For all that it was worth, you knew she would always have your back. She would run head-first into battle for you.
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You could definitely be mad at Ryujin. In fact, you've been upset for the last hour.
She promised a surprise for you; she said she wanted to take you somewhere to take your mind off of the whole Y*ta situation. Honestly, you were grateful to be getting out of the house; you had been limiting yourself to only going to classes. You were trying your hardest to not run into him. 
You make sure to dress prettily. You were just too excited to finally have a reason to dress up again. You were so excited, you didn't even blink at the all-too-familiar signs and buildings as Ryujin pulled into the parking lot of a run-down boxing gym.
It's not until you have walked into the threshold and over to the rusty sideline benches that you feel overdressed and out of place. Your eyes scan the room, and everything feels so familiar yet out of place that you feel stupid for not realizing sooner.
As your eyes take in the old tattered banners and boxing ring, you realize you were walked blind into your brother's old gym. He and Jeno used to come here all the time to spar and train. This place used to run official matches and business, but it went bankrupt and had to close. Now it was just a place that hosted underground fighting. 
You knew what this was about, and you were upset that Ryujin fooled you into coming. You crossed your arms protectively over your chest, and you had hungry eyes staring at you from each angle.
“You...are... insane,” you hissed at her in anger after you two got settled in your seats. 
“And you are a coward. I'm sorry I lied Ok, but we need his help,” she contests
“You just walked me into a den full of hungry wolves. We're gonna need a lot more than help now!” You whisper harshly.
"Oh, come on, you know jeno’s not gonna let anything happen to you”
It was as if saying his name aloud summoned him; the next thing you know, he is in the ring.
You can't help but hold your breath at the sight. He had grown since the last time you saw him, and you didn't even think that was possible. His face was more refined and sculpted, and his arms were toned with muscles. His shoulders would have had you drooling if it weren’t for the perdicament you were in. They were broad and covered in cuts and bruises, much like the rest of his body. His body relaxes as he shakes away his nerves. He was standing in one corner of the ring, while his opponent stood menacingly at the other end. You think you hear the announcer call out his name—was it Jaehyung? Jaehyoon? Something like that.
You try to duck your head, not wanting to be seen, but you stand out like a sore thumb. As Jeno finished up his quick stretches, his eyes somehow wandered to you. First comes shock, then confusion, and as he rakes his eyes over your outfit, he’s overcome with anger.
Tonight was going to be a long night.
You could hear the scolding now…
”it's too cold to be wearing that”
“it's too dangerous for you to be here”
“This isn't some show; don't bring your friends here”
It wasn't even your fault you were here! You already knew he was not going to hear any of that, though.
He fixes you with a stare that says, “We’ll talk later,” and you groan in annoyance.
Before you can even open your mouth to give Ryujin another piece of your mind, the match begins and draws your attention back to the ring.
Jeno sizes up his opponent as they circle each other, looking for openings. His opponent, Jae Something, was twice his size, and honestly, you were a little afraid for Jenos sake. Jae was inpatient and struck first. Jenos weaves left and holds his guard strong. Jeno played the defense; he was patient, and you find that his fighting style was the mirror opposite of his personality. Even though Jeno had a tendency to lose his temper, it was fascinating to watch him change when he stepped into the ring. He moved with poise and thoughtfulness at every turn. 
Jenos patience rewarded him and he saw an opening In his opponents gaurd. He struck Jae, causing him to stumble back on unsecure footing. This allowed jeno to push his opponent back and switch to offense. Jae was already worn out, and Jeno used this to his advantage, knocking him down and out after hounding him with jabs and hooks.
Jeno was an endurance fighter; his goal wasn't to win through brutality but by outlasting his opponent in a fight.
You were amazed at how far he had come. He was a skilled fighter, as he always had been, but now, after years of honing his craft, you could see he was nothing like the boy you knew before.
The match was over and you were brought back to reality as you realized just what kind of scene you were in. This was an illegal boxing match, and now that it was over, the illegal part really started to stand out. Bets had been placed on the matches before hand and were now being fulfilled. Money was being passed around, and some exchanges even turned aggressive. You knew Jeno had probably wanted you to stick around for your lashings, but this was your queue to get the fuck out of there. You grab Ryujin's hand and try to lead her away from the ever-increasingly aggravated crowd. You navigate through groups of people as you hurry towards the exit. 
On your way, you trip over your stupid heels that Ryujin convinced you to wear and accidentally bump shoulders with someone. You find your footing and apologize. You try to walk away, pulling Ryujin behind you, but feel a rough hand on your shoulder pulling you back.
“Where do you think your going?” a gravelly voice calls out.
“I already apologized; let me go,” you grit out, trying to pull away from the man. He was a little bit taller than you and was twice your age. You noticed the wad of cash in one of his hands and the sickishly sweet smile on his face, and you figured he must have placed a winning bet.
“Don't be like that; how about I take you and your friend here out and we go somewhere private” he says while flashing his money. “Of course you'll have to work for it if you want a tip,” he says repulsively.
From the corner of your eye, you see Jeno pushing through the crowd. The look on his face gives you the chills. 
“Don’t be scared, baby; I don't bite,” the man says. 
Oh, you’re not scared of him; your scared for him.
You know what's coming before it happens, and the man is on the ground in seconds. His money flits through the air before joining him on the ground. The man is clutching his face, and before Jeno can get his hands on him again, men dressed in all black pull the man to his feet and drag him out. You figured they must have been something like security. 
Everything happens so fast, but all you know is that you and Ryujin are both being pulled by an angry Jeno deeper into the building into some back room. Ryujin looks a bit shaken, but you assure her everything is okay now.
 It was dark and chilly in the room. The cement walls offered no warmth as you stood in the middle of what you assumed to be an old locker room. The back of the building was really coming apart; water leaked from the ceiling, and it smelled like mildew. No one really occupies the space anymore. 
Now occupying the space were Jeno,currently trying to reel in his nerves as he drags a hand down his face; Ryujin, shifting from one foot to another awkwardly; and you, who crossed your arms definitely over your chest as you waited for Jeno’s reprimanding.
“You know what I'm going to say,” he huffs.
“I'm sorry, it's really not her fault I'm the one who drug her here; I didn't realize how dangerous it would be” Ryujin tried to defend you, but she didn't know Jeno like you did. He wasnt one for excuses.
“Who are you?” He asks dismissively.  
Jeno had never met Ryujin before. Ryujin had only heard about him through the stories you would tell her about growing up with him and your brother.
“Im a friend; we didn’t come here without a reason we wanted to—” She says but doesnt get to finish
"Jeno, dont be rude. She was only trying to help.” You interrupt. You could not have her bring that up now; you needed his attention back on you. 
“I'm sorry, Ryujin. Can you give us a moment?” He sighs in apology.
Ryujin gives you a look but takes the hint and doesn't push the topic again. She reluctantly walks to the door and waits outside the room. 
Once the door shuts behind her, Jeno wastes no time telling you off. “I dont know why your here or whats going on but you need to leave. You know better than this,” he scolds
You wanted to jump off a cliff. This is absolutely not how you wanted to meet him again. You had imagined this meeting a thousand times in your head. When you finally reconnected, you were supposed to show him how mature you had gotten. This whole fiasco definitely sets you back 10 steps. 
“I wouldn't be here …I wouldn't be dressed like this if I had known we would end up here. It was a mistake. We'll leave, ok?" You say arms crossed and closed off as you dig your heel into the ground.
Even after all this time, he still had a soft spot for you. No matter how hard he tried to be stern with you, one look at the pout on your face made him feel bad. He walks over and closes the small distance between you two. He engulfs you in a hug, and you’re reminded of home. He reminds you so much of your past that it makes you nostalgic. He kisses the top of your head affectionately and lets go, and you’re reminded just how smelly and musty he is as his sticky skin peels from yours.
“Gross,” you grumble
“I think you'll live,” he jokes with a smile. He's a lot calmer now. He leans down to meet your gaze “I'm sorry for being hard on you; I was just worried. You popped up out of nowhere after all this time.
It was so easy to fall back in step with him. You want to tell him everything; all you want is for him to fix everything, but you are no longer that little girl, and you are determined to prove it. 
You’re deep in thought when he asks, “Is everything OK, Storm?”
Your heart skips a beat at the nickname; you haven't heard that in awhile. He's always called you that; when you asked him why, he told you it was because you would stir up so much trouble wherever you went, growing up like a storm. It may have sounded negative, but he didn’t mean it like that. He always said it affectionately. 
“I'm fine; Ryujin brought me here because I said I missed home. She wanted to take me around to some familiar places. I guess she didn't know what really went down at this place” You try to cover up the truth.
Your campus wasn't too far from your hometown, and you go home almost every weekend, but hopefully Jeno doesn’t know that and buys the story. 
He looks a bit sceptical. "Lately, its been hard to come by you,” he says “Are you sure your not in any trouble?”
"I've just been busy with school; its nothing really,” you explain.
He just nods, and you know he does not believe it, but he doesn’t pry either. “Lets get you home; it's getting late” 
When you open the door, Ryujin falls forward, clearly listening in and she gives you a sheepish smile. You grab her arm and pull her along as jeno personally escorts you out and to ryujin's car.
He holds your door open for you and watches as you clamber inside before buckling your seat belt and closing your door for you. You internally groan in annoyance. He was never going to see you as anything but the 7th grade version of you that he first met. The girl needed her brother to save her from herself. 
You are grown now!
He can practically see the words printed on your forehead as he huckles to himself. He didn’t care; he would always take care of you, no matter how much you hated him for it.
 He motions for you to roll down the window before leaning into the car and caressing your face affectionately with his rough, bruised hand. You decide right then that you would never let him get hurt for your sake. He’s fought enough.
 “If you need anything, call, ok?” He says this before drawing his hand back. You don't respond, and he quirks an eyebrow.
"Ok,” You grumble 
“You have my number, right?”
“Yes!” You say a bit louder in annoyance.
"Ok, ok, I'm just checking, you never reach out, I just want to make sure your okay,” he continues 
“Actually, can I take your number? I'm practically her guardian now. I'll make sure to keep you updated if she needs anything” Your friend butts in with a smile.
Jeno happily gives her his number, and you just sit in the passenger seat like a child, watching as your parents fuss over you.
You are grown now!
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Mondays are the worst days of the week, not because you have to go back to classes. You loved class, you loved learning and you loved your teachers. It wasn’t until college that you found out that you really enjoyed learning. Yuta would have definitely laughed at you if you told him that in high school. 
Yuta was the reason you hated Mondays. Mondays were the worst because they meant no more hiding. You couldn't stay in all day; you had to go to class, and that meant running into the devil. You were lucky enough to only have one class with Yuta, and that class only met on Mondays. 
You find your way to your seat at the back of the class, hoping to hide away from him, but you know he will find you. You felt his presence as he slipped into the seat next to you. 
“Morning doll, did you get my text?” 
You hated when he texted you; it was always a disturbing photo. Last time you opened a text from him, it was a video of him fucking some girl in a dark alleyway. In the video, he made the girl drop to her knees and open her mouth. He pressed the barrel of his gun into her mouth and made her suck it off. ‘Wish this was you’ was the text he sent after the video.
Since then, you have made it a point not to open his texts, but it seems like he wasn't going to let this one go.
“I’ve been busy; i hadnt had the chance to”
"Well, that's no good doll; why don't you open it now?” he smirks wickedly.
“I dont think—”
“Open it,” The playfulness slips off of his face and replaced with seriousness 
You never noticed it before, but Yuta could be terrifying. He never showed this side to you before, but your certain this was the side everyone else saw. He made a promise to follow you to the end of the earth, and so far he has kept true to it. 
He had gone from being your high school’s bad boy to the campus’s star athlete. Yuta had completely rebranded himself after graduation, and it made it even harder to report him. No one would believe you. He would just spin the story and make you out to be some bitter ex, making up lies to try to ruin his college career.
With shaky hands, you unlock your phone and go to your messages, clicking on the conversation with the unsaved number attached to it. There, you find a video waiting for you. You turn your volume all the way down and hit play. This time, it was a video of you a few nights ago, exiting the gym with Ryujin and Jeno. The camera work was shaky, and it seemed to have been taken from behind a car or a bushr? You couldnt tell but your heart was beating outside your chest.
Your eyes are glued to the screen as you feel a firm hand caress your tense shoulder until it grips the back of your neck. "Now why does it look like my doll is cheating” You freeze in place as your mouth hangs open. “Who is that?” he asks.
You had no idea he was following you. How long had he been following you? The grip on your neck tightens.
“Answer me,” he whispers cruelly, his eyes darkening with rage.
“He’s no one” tears well up in your eyes. Ryujin was right; this was getting out of hand.
“Let me catch you with him again; I'll make you regret it,” he whispers. He kisses the side of your head and breathes in the scent of your shampoo. He releases you, and you release the breath you had been holding. 
You can barely pay attention to anything your professor is saying; you just stare blankly at the front of the room.
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You sent Ryujin a text to meet you in the library. You hated to dump all of this on her but you had to talk to someone. You could already tell she was frustrated with you about the situation, but she was the only one you could confide in. With her around, you didn't feel so alone in this. 
“He did what?!”
“Its ok, if I do what he says, everything will be fine; i have it under control,” you reply sheepishly
“No! You need to report his creepy ass to the cops!” she yells in disbelief.
“Keep it down; we’re in a library,” you remind her
“Dont try to change the subject,” she whispers 
“I'll figure this out” 
“We will figure this out.” she says, grabbing your hand and giving it a supportive squeeze.
When she lets go of your hand, hers slip under the table. You don't see it, but she’s texting someone, typing furiously before hitting send.
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You try not to be mad at Ryujin, but you can't believe she went behind your back and snitched. Now, here in front of you, sits the last man on earth that you want to worry. Ryujin mouths a sorry and sends you an apologetic look. Jeno had arrived about ten minutes earlier, and he looked to be trying to keep his calm before confronting the matter.
“Is this some intervention?” you joke to lighten the mood. 
“Ryujin told me everything; do you think this is a joke?” He questioned, trying to stay patient with you. “Why didnt you tell me sooner”
You sigh, feeling ashamed. Everything was always so tense between you two. You had grown apart over the years, and it was difficult to think he was once like a second brother to you. But time was not the only factor to blame; high school also played a part. Puberty changed everything. It changed you, it changed jeno, and it definitely changed how you felt towards him. You had such a massive crush on him in high school that even your brother found it hard to ignore. You made Jaemin swear to secrecy and never tell a soul. If you had known Ryujin was going to call Jeno, you would have sucked it up and reached out to your brother.
You didn’t want Jeno to get involved. You kept telling yourself you didn't want him to get hurt, but you had to be honest with yourself. There was another reason you didn't want to ask for his help, and it was because you were still embarrassed. Anything was better than sitting in front of the man who rejected you. 
Summer freshman year of highschool
You thought you had finally grown up in his eyes; you thought your newfound curves were enough to make him see you as more than “Jaem’s little sister.” You thought you could fool yourself into believing you had a chance. 
It wasnt abnormal for jeno to sleep over at your place during highschool. He would crash in Jaemin’s room and eat breakfast with your family, like he lived there. One night, you catch him alone and tell him how you feel. You waited for him outside the bathroom. He was showering, and you were certain your brother was too engulfed in his game to interrupt you. Jeno had exited the bathroom wearing sweats and a tanktop, drying his hair with a towel. He had almost walked right by, not noticing you. You stood in front of him wearing a similar white tanktop and sleeping shorts, your nipples poking through the fabric of your shirt. You were so sure you would have his attention, but he just tentatively acknowledged you.
“Im sorry, was i taking too long?” he asked apologetically
"No, i actually wanted to talk to you about something”
He just nods his head and waits for you to continue
“I really like you, and I was hoping I could spend more time with you... just uh… the two of us,” you said shyly, unable to find the right words.
You couldnt meet his eye and stare at a random spot on the carpet
You felt a gentle hand stroke your head affectionately. You look up, hopefully but your world comes crashing down with his next few words
“Your like a sister to me; of course we can hang out more,” he smiles brightly, unknowingly ripping your heart out
Ever since that night, you have avoided him like the plague.
‘I just didn't want to worry you or jaem.” you say, ashamed.
“I won't tell him but if you think I'm going to sit back and let this happen, your wrong”
“I didn’t think it was that much of an issue yet.” you say, picking at your sleeves.
Jenos eyes harden with disbelief  “Are you serious? Not much of an issue?” he grits “Hes threatening you”
"Ok, ok, your right; I shouldn't be taking this lightly” You try to soothe things over with a weak smile.
“Give me your phone,” he says, holding out his hand
You unlock it and hand it to him, unsure of what he's going to do. After messing around with it, he hands it back. “I blocked him; dont even think about texting him again.” he warns
“Jeno! I have to; hes going to be pissed!” You take your phone back, looking through your messages, but you’re unable to find the conversation again. You didn't realize how much control he had over you. You thought all you had to do was follow his orders, and you would be alright; one day he would just get bored of you and stop. 
“Don't you hear yourself? Your scared!” he yells. He hated seeing you like this. He promised Jaemin that he would watch after you, but here he was, blind to the cruelty that you had endured. “Once this is all over, I'm telling Jaem.” 
(¬_¬) snitch 
He gets up, preparing to leave, while both you and Ryujin stare at each other. Well, you glare at her while she communicates a response with her eyes in return. He doesn’t turn to leave before saying one last thing: “Keep your phone on you at all times, and I'll be walking you from your classes from here on out,” he states sternly. 
“I dont know if that’s a good idea; he told me not—”
“Are you more afraid of him or me?” he asks you
Point taken.
You wait until Jeno is out of earshot before you whisper yell at your friend, “I told you not to tell him!”
“I had to! I was worried”
"Well, great, now he's worried and probably thinks I'm an irresponsible idiot!”
"Well, you are,” she counters, “whats your deal anyway? You seriously think Yuta is just going to leave you alone? He's gonna end up killing you!” she scolds.
You take a moment to process her words. She had a point, but she didn't know Yuta like you did; neither of them did. He was dangerous. You just wanted to keep your friends safe, but you might have gotten in over your head.
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You finally make it to your destination; you drove to the old gym, hoping to find Jeno. You could have called or texted him, but you knew it would be easier to get your point across in person. You had at least wanted to let him know what he was getting himself into. Yuta was dangerous, and no matter how strong Jeno was, he wasn't bulletproof.
You park your cute little beetle and cringe; you definitely didn't belong in this scene, and everyone around was going to know it. A sticker-bombed Volkswagen Beetle in the middle of the parking lot of a broken-down and shady gym? Perfect combo!
Luckily, there were only a few cars tonight. You figured it must not be fight night, and you prayed that you found Jeno inside. You gather up your courage and march inside. You make your way down a narrow hallway that opens up into the main gym, and that's where you find him. There were a few other fighters occupying the space, but they seemed to be wrapping up. Jeno must not be the only one who comes here to let off steam, you assume. 
"Oh, who's this cute thing?” one of the guys says as you catch his eye on his way out.
“I wouldn't do that if I were you Haechan; thats Jenos Girl,” another voice says, coming up behind him before slinging an arm over his shoulder. “Excuse him,” he says politely before pulling Haechan away and scolding him.
The one that wasn’t Haechan was there the night Jeno punched that weirdo out. Apparently the whole gym knew you as Jeno’s girl, according to his rambling. Their arguing fades away and the last thing you hear before complete silence is “Get off me Renjun your musty”
You laugh to yourself before scanning the room, and you bring your eyes back to the man nestled in the corner. He's facing a punching bag with his hands tightly wrapped and his headphones secure on his head. He wasn't still for a second, staying light on his feet as he threw a few hooks at the bag. 
You were almost afraid to accidentally sneak up on him because that would not end well. You stay cautious and keep a safe distance, choosing to call his name a few times to get his attention. Your practically screaming, but he can't hear you. You wonder what brand of headphones he had because that noise cancellation was crazy! You choose a different approach and spot a disregarded boxing glove on a side table. You walk the short distance, grab the item and chunk it at the back of Jeno’s head. 
Now clearly, you weren’t trying to poke a bear. You were aiming more towards his broad shoulders, given that was a better target, but your aim was off, and you almost knocked the expensive-looking headphone off his head.
Jeno whips around angrily, opening his mouth to curse, but stops himself short once he notices you. He settles for a deep, exasperated sigh and a sharp glare. He must have been at it for awhile because he was drenched in sweat, and his bangs hung messily in his eyes and were dripping sweat. He pushed the wet hair back from his eyes, showing his forehead. He looked so good when he was angry; his eyes were narrowed dangerously, and his chest heaved heavily.
“Why are you fucking with me?” He says this, coldly pulling his headphones off his ears and letting them hang around his neck "You better have a good reason for being here when there is a psycho after you. I clearly remember telling you to stay away from this place?” 
Oh yeah, you definitely poked the bear. Hes pissed.
“Are you sure you want to get involved?” You try to find your words. “Yuta isnt like the little boys you and jaemin used to beat up in highschool”
“You could never keep yourself out of trouble, huh?”
“I'm not asking for your help!”
“Drop the act for once, would you? Your not tough so stop acting like it!”
“I’m not being tough; I just don't want to be a bother! I'm not the same kid! When I’m falling, you always save me, and I'm sick of it. I'm sick of being weak. I don't need your help, so why don’t you drop the older brother act? Your barely even older than me!” You pitch back
“Jaemin told me to look out for you so thats what im doing,” he huffs 
“And that's your only reason, right? Your just looking out for me because my brother said so” you scoff, trying to keep the hurt out of your voice. " How about this? I take you in the ring and show you what I got. Let me show you I can take care of myself” You cross your arms and send him a defiant look.
“Are you seriously—” he cuts himself off, shaking his head in disbelief “You know what fine. Show me what you got”
You smile in triumph and walk over to the center of the gym, where the ring sits. You take off your shoes and crawl inside. The mat felt cool under your feet; it was a grounding sensation, and just once you understood why Jeno loved standing in it, even if it meant fighting. You scan the gym, and memories fill in all the rust, broken pipes and holes in the wall as you remember what the gym used to be. Your stuck in a trance until you feel something soft but firm hit you in the head, knocking you from your daydream.
“That was payback…. but you also need to be mindful of your surroundings. Not starting off so well, angel,” Jeno says, shaking his head as he adjusts the punching mitts over his hands. 
You’re brought back to the present and finally notice the boxing gloves at your feet. You get the memo and put them on. 
“This can't be too hard,” you mutter to yourself.
Your both centered in the ring and you focus on jenos movements. You grew up being dragged to almost all of your brother's matches; you figured you had watched long enough to catch on to some moves. You throw a punch at Jenos mitt, and he cushions the blow. He lets you get comfortable throwing a few punches before he counters. He makes his movements very big and obvious; you can see his strike from a mile away. You weave under it and throw a punch at his gaurding mitt. 
Hes going easy on you
You continue to spar, and Jeno is in full coach mode. He's guiding you in the correct stance and helping you learn what to look for when someone strikes. You've been at it for about 30 minutes now, and you've gotten faster at dodging and reading his movements. He’s still going extremely easy on you, but upping the ante just a little. You were completely absorbed in the lesson.
“Nice hook, put you jab lacks power,” he instructs.
You were good at putting your body into your hooks, but you just couldn't build enough momentum for a strong jab. You try again, but it falls flat, and Jeno shakes his head. 
“Follow through; come on, try it again,” he encourages you. You take a breath and send a jab into his mitt. Still not enough. 
Jeno takes off the mitts and moves in closer towards you.
"Here, watch me,” he says, raising his gaurd and striking the air. “You want to step into it, see?” He shows you again, a little bit slower.
You give a determined hum and copy his movement, but you can tell by Jeno’s face that you're missing the mark. 
"Ok, come here; let me show you” Jeno moves in behind you and grabs your arms. He helps you fix your posture and you instantly heat up at the contact. You try to keep it together, but the way his chest was pressed up against your back and the way he was breathing heavily in your ear had you reeling. "Ok, now focus, step into it and jab.” 
He moves one hand down to your waist and pushes you forward, guiding your step, while the other helps you jab. He was so close. You wanted to blame the sudden weakness in your limbs on the endless training he has you doing, but you know its from the heat of his body.
“Are you okay? That one was really weak. Are you shaking?” Jeno looks at you from over your shoulder, worried. 
You meet his gaze and nod silently. He's so close. His lips are a breath away, and all you have to do is turn your head to meet his lips. The hand holding your waist travels up your side and grabs your chin. He tilts your head up a little, and his lips are meeting yours. You turn in his grasp and kiss him back. His lips are so soft, and when you pull away, you immediately miss the feeling of his lips on yours. 
“I'm sorry; I shouldn't have done that,” he says softly.
Before you can protest, he pulls away from you, cleans up the equipment you two used, and calls it a night. You let him walk you to your car, and you say nothing before you drive away. If it wasn't awkward before, it definitely would be now.
How could he kiss you and then pretend like nothing happened? You’re too embarrassed to bring it up again. Does this count as being rejected for a second time? Nah, he kissed you; you're not taking another L. 
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It had been a week so far, and Jeno had shown up promptly to all your classes. He shouldered your bags and carried your books as you both walked across campus. Neither of you brought up the kiss, but fortunately, it wasn't awkward anymore. He had started teaching you to defend yourself at the gym sometimes after class. Those moments felt the most intimate. You could feel his passion when he taught you, and it warmed you in all the right places. You two talked about everything in these moments. You shared embarrassing memories from high school, and he told you stories about Jaemin that you would never let your brother live down. You talked about everything but the kiss. You wonder if he regretted it?
The funny thing about college was that the classrooms were so big and there were so many students that it was hard to keep track of who was who. That's how Jeno ended up in you’re lecture every Monday. It was the only class you had with Yuta, and Jeno wasn’t taking any chances. You told him it wasn't a good idea, and the eyes burning into the back of your head were proof of that. Jeno was by your side the entire period, and to onlookers, you two probably looked like a couple. He had scooted your chair directly next to him and was practically shoulder to shoulder with you. 
“Back up; I can feel you breathing down my neck” 
“I want to see what your doing”
Jeno didn't go to college. He mainly just worked during the day and fought on the weekends for extra cash. His parents were absent for the most part, and he kind of took care of himself growing up. He didn't really have a support system growing up, and that was one of the main reasons he found himself at your house. The only other place he felt safe was the gym. You could only imagine how devastated he was when it shut down. You can understand why he decided to stick around when things turned shady. Jeno earned enough money to support himself, so he never felt the need to go to college, which is why Jaemin didn't feel to bad about dumping you off on his shoulder.
“I can't concentrate Jen,” you scold.
He spends half the class peaking over your shoulder as you work and the other half asleep on the desk. Some guard dog he was.
Yuta didn't bother you during class anymore, and you were grateful. You could finally focus on bringing your grades back up, but you couldn't shake the feeling that he was plotting against you the entire time. After class, he would hang out in the library or, if you had a long day, the gym before returning to pick you up.
Later that day, Jeno was supposed to meet you after your econ class, which was your last class of the day, but you were surprised to not see him silently leaning up against the wall opposite the door. You try your best to calm your nerves as you try to decide if you should wait for him or not. You tried not to freak out; he was probably fine. Maybe he thought you could handle walking yourself home for once; you couldn't expect him to be there all the time. Not to mention you hadn't run into Yuta anywhere other than class.  
Your last class ends late, and the sun has already gone down, so you were really reluctant to leave without Jeno. You try your best to channel the old you, the one that ran with bad crowds, the one who feared no one and nothing, and the newer you, who had trained with Jeno and learned how to protect yourself. You put on your best face and begin trekking home.
As you walked, you realized It wasn't so bad; you had honestly forgotten how nice it felt to just walk around by yourself and clear your head. You were enjoying your walk home, and you were about two blocks from your dorm when you felt something in the air shift. Suddenly, you didn't feel so alone. You try to pick up your pace as subtly as possible and pull your phone from your bag. You dial Jeno’s number with quickness and wait for him to pick it up. You can feel the person behind you’s steps quicken. 
Come on, please
You beg internally as you break out into a small jog. Screw being subtle; someone was clearly following you. You didn’t dare chance a look over your shoulder as you cut across a lawn; his phone went to voicemail, and you dialed again. The person behind you is right on your heels and you drop your phone as a firm hand grabs your arm. Your first reflex is to scream, but you remember Jenos teachings: you jab your elbow as hard as you can into the attacker's ribs. Your about to break his grip when you hear a familiar groan. You turn around to look at your attacker, and you notice its just Jeno.
He's looking at you with a worried expression, like he didn't just chase you for a full block.
“What are you doing!?” 
“I was trying to catch up to you!” He lets you go and holds his ribs, groaning in pain.
“Why didn't you pick up weirdo? I thought someone was going to get me!”
“I was running late and left my phone at home; I thought you would at least wait for me,” he states
You calm your nerves and sign in relief. You shake off your backpack and shove it into his chest.
“Dont be late again; what if something had happened”
“You know I would never let anything happen to you, right?” His eyebrows furrow, and he looks into your eyes. He needs you to know that he would throw down everything to make sure you were okay.
“I know that” Your heart skips a beat, and he grabs your hand reassuringly. You were grateful for the night sky because you could feel your face heating up.
"Good,” 
You finally arrive at your off-campus dorm and make your way inside. Your roommate didn't seem to be home yet; typically, she came home late because she had to work late at her job so you were grateful for the time you had alone with jeno. 
It isn't until he sets your things down and you flick on a few lights that you see a few bruises and cuts on his face. It was not surprising to see Jeno bruised up, given his fighting background, but these appeared to be from a recent fight. When he notices your gaze, he turns to hide his face and begins unpacking your bag and arranging your study materials.
Jeno had insisted a few days ago that he stick around a little after he drops you off. He insisted it was for your protection so you guys started studying together. Well, you started studying; Jeno just watched you or took a nap next to you on the sofa. 
“We should start soon; it's getting late,” he says, trying to redirect your attention.
You refuse to let it go though and move in closer to get a better look. “Who did this?” you say as you gently caress his face, moving it around to examine the damage
“I had a match the other—”
“Don't lie to me,” you urge
“He sent some guys after me,” jeno confesses
Your heart drops. This is exactly why you didn’t want him to get involved. Its like he can read your thoughts because he immediately tries to ease your worry.
“Calm down; this is nothing. You know me, I can hold my own,” he says
You didn't respond.
“I took care of them; you dont have to worry”
You stare at him incredulously “Is that why you were late today?” 
"Maybe,” he winces
“Jeno!” you scold. “Was Yuta there?”
“I tried to look for him after, but apparently he had an away game tonight,” he answers. 
“Let me clean you up” 
Jeno wasn't that much taller than you, probably just a few inches, but you found it easier to work on the cuts on his face by sitting on the counter. You already had your materials prepped; you kept a first aid kit on hand at all times; it was a habit you couldn't shake. This wasn't the first time you found yourself in this position with Jeno; you had always cleaned him and your brother up during childhood. You felt terrible; you worked in a silence that Jeno kept trying to break. Anytime he would open his mouth to speak, you would dab at his lip with more ointment to shut him up until he got the memo. He kept trying to cheer you up and you werent in the mood
He winces at your touch, and you immediately let up and give a short apology. You go back in with a lighter hand and add a bandage. As many punches as he takes, you would think a little peroxide wouldn't hurt. You were done fixing him up, and you busy yourself with putting your kit back together, ignoring the eyes that bore into you. You wanted to leave and put some distance between you but he wouldnt step from between your legs. 
“Hey, look at me.” he calls out to you. 
You could not bring yourself to look at him; each scar on his face reminded you that it was your fault that he was hurt. 
“Its not your fault” its like he was reading your mind.
"Yes, it is! I shouldnt have gotten you involved! I should have just called Jaem.”
“You would rather see Jaemin beat up?” He jokes, trying to lighten the mood.
“He would have at least deserved it,” you say, rolling your eyes and thinking of all the times he tormented you growing up.
A comfortable silence falls between you two after sharing a laugh. He was so close, but you reached out like he was going to disappear. You tentatively caress his bruised cheek; he leans into your touch, and the look he gives you gives you butterflies. He looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. 
“I like being near you;  don’t push me away again”
"Jeno,” you say, shocked by his confession
“I dont want us to go back to the way things were I—
You push him away before jumping down from the counter; you don't want to hear anymore. You had a feeling you knew what he was getting at. After all this time and all the hurt, now he likes you!?
“You were the one who made it like this! Made US like this. I told you how I felt all those years ago, and you rejected me!” you argue
“What are you talking—”
“Drop it,” you demand, trying to leave the bathroom, but he stands in the doorway, blocking your path.
“What did you mean? When did I ever reject you?” Jeno tries, but you ignore his gaze until he grips your chin and forces you to look at him.
“Stop being like that and answer me.” he says.
You were tired of holding your tongue; you might as well get it over with. “Do you remember that time during highschool? When you stayed with us the whole summer?” you worry your lip. “I told you I liked you and you said I was like a sister to you,” you heave out in one big breathe
Jeno takes a moment to process your words, and he finally says, “I had no idea that was what you meant back then. I thought you hated me since I was always over. I thought the ‘I like you’ was more of an ‘I like you around’,” Jeno explains.
“Why would I hate you?” You ask in shock
“Jaemin used to always drag me around to scare off your boyfriends; I thought you might have hated me for that. You never really went out of your way to speak to me, I guess? I asked Jaemin if you hated me that same night, and he told me no. Then I ran into you in the hallway, and you suddenly told me you liked me, so I figured he told you to set things straight?” 
He wasn't wrong; back then, you kept to yourself and watched from afar. You hoped you could make him come to you. You were too scared to approach him, so you did everything you could to get his attention. You got into trouble, so he and Jaemin would have to come to your rescue. You dated all those guys to make him jealous. This whole time, you thought he couldn't care less about you, but it seems the whole time he was worried you hated him. 
"Well, that doesnt change the fact that you only see me like a little sister” 
“I kind of did, at first. You were my best friend, little sister, and I had to see you that way. Jaemin would kill me if I didn't. But I can't, not anymore. Truthfully, I never had.” He caressed your face and pressed his forehead against yours “I'm sorry if this is all confusing for you. I know it has been for me, but can we just try something?” He holds your eye contact, and your faces are so close that you can feel his breath. He smelled so good; the minty scent of his tooth paste mixed with the natural musk of his skin was driving you crazy. You had waited for a moment like this for almost forever.
“Anything; I'll do anything with you,” you say, almost forgetting to breathe.
He pushes you back and sets you on the counter again as he leans in and caresses your lips softly with his, teasing you like he has been doing for the past few years. You cannot take it anymore; you cannot wait anymore, so you take the dive. You press your lips fervently against his, causing him to hiss slightly from the sting, but when you try to pull back to apologize, he grips the back of your neck and reconnects your lips again. He moans into your mouth as you lick the cut on his lip, which will undoubtedly scar apologetically. You try to kiss him more gently but when he feels your hesitance, he pulls away just for a second to whisper, “don’t hold back”
Your hands find their way into his hair and his find their way under your thighs, hiking them up and around his waist. Things were getting heated fast, and you could hardly breathe. Everything you ever wanted was coming to fruition right in front of your eyes. When he finally pulls away to catch his breath, he does not waste any time kissing your neck. The force of his kisses makes you weak, and you have to lean against the mirror behind you to stay upright. 
You could hardly keep up; your limbs felt like they weighed a ton, and you could hardly hold your head up. The way he was rolling his hips into yours made your breath start to make condensation on the mirror as you laid your face on the cool glass. Jeno eventually found your lips again after his short exploration and claimed them hungrily.
“What's gotten into my baby? You can't handle it?” he teases
This was the first time he’s called you that, and it was driving your heart beat up dangerously.
“Don't worry, I'll take care of you, like I always do,” he murmurs against your lips before leaving you with a peck. 
He pulls you off the counter as he leads you to your bed. You were in a daze; your brain was running hot, and you couldn't even think of anything but the feeling of his hands caressing your sides from under your shirt. 
“Tell me you want it” Your eyes flutter a bit at his tone. He sounded so good. You needed him inside of you; that was the only thing you could think of.
“I need you inside,” you moan with a roll of your hips
“Gotta get you ready for that first,” he says as he begins to strip you of your clothes before he follows with his own.
You definitely had brain fog but the sight infront of you cleared it up. He looked so good, you had to bite your tongue before you let out an embarrassing sound. His broad shoulders and slim waist hovered over you tauntingly, like his body was begging you to mark it. His length stood proud against his abdomen, and you had to will yourself to meet his dark graze again. When he licks his lips, you pout and give him a "hurry up" look.
 He wastes no time and starts stretching you out over his fingers. You return every kiss and nip he gave you earlier and more. You mark up his neck with kisses and bites and leave pretty claw marks down his back  and chest as he works his fingers in and out of you skillfully. He had to bite back the groans that threatened to leave his mouth as you gushed all over his fingers. He couldnt wait to feel you around his cock. You feel yourself getting so close. You roll your hips as he scissors you open. He senses how close you are and hooks his fingers as they drag deliciously against your walls. You finish all over his fingers.
“You must have been so pent-up, baby; that didn't take long at all?” he coos teasingly
You shoot him a glare and retaliate by wrapping your legs around his waist, locking him into place. You grab his length and stroke it. You give him a few sensual pumps before you crack. You wanted to tease him like he's been torturing you, but you couldn't keep waiting; you needed him inside so you slipped him in. He chuckles softly at your failed attempt to get back at him and pecks your lips affectionately. You shudder at the feeling, and your walls are squeezing him so tight that the soft patterns he was drawing on your skin turn into harsh grasps of your hips while his soft chuckling turns into a surprised gasp. He moans softly as he tries to ground himself.
“You want it bad, huh?” he tries to get you to beg but it comes out more whiney than domineering 
“No more waiting; if you wont do anything, I'll do it myself,” you threaten. 
He finds your threat cute and has decided to take mercy on you. He strokes slowly at first, making sure you’re not hurting or uncomfortable. You loved this man, and you loved how much he cared for you, but right now you didn't want that. Despite his constant nagging, he has always been nothing but gentle with you for as long as you can remember. You don't want that side of him. You want it rough.
“Dont hold back,” you mirror his words from earlier “you wont break me,” you reassure him when you see worry settle into his features
“What if I do?”
“I want you to,” you whisper back 
That seems to do the trick because now he was hoisting your hips up, tilting them to fuck into you as deep as he could. Your lower half is lifted from the mattress and all you can do is hold on to the sheets. He was thrusting in deep, craving as much contact as possible. 
You try to match his pace and fuck back on him, but you grow tired and just settle for taking everything he gives you.
He sets your hips back down before yanking one of your legs over his shoulder. He starts back  up again, and you can see the way his veins strain against his arms at the force he's using to fuck you. You were sure to have pretty bruises in the shape of his hands in the morning. The bed creaked loudly as he pounded you into the mattress, and you prayed that Ryujin wasn’t home yet. 
It was like he couldn't keep his hands off of you; they were never still on your body. First they were grasping your hips, holding you steady as he drilled you, then they were grasping at your breasts, and finally one of them took a purchase wrapped around the base of your neck. He wasn’t applying much pressure; he was just holding it there.
Your walls flutter around his cock and hw tightens his grip around your neck at the feeling. He can tell you’re about to cum and when you do, he has to hold you down with his other hand. The lack of air triggers your survival responses and heightened senses, making you feel everything tenfold. The burn against your throat hurts, but the pain mixes with the pleasure to give you a beautiful ending. You can tell by the sticky warmth that fills you and the groan that follows that Jeno wasn't far behind at all. He rolls off of you and plops down on the space beside you to catch his breath. You pull yourself up and start to get out of bed before he grabs your arm.
“Where are you going?” He asks as hurt crosses his features.
“I need the bathroom,” you explain, sleepy “This is my house anyway; you thought I was going to leave?” You joke with a laugh
Jeno visibly relaxes for a second before he too gets out of bed. He makes his way over to you and helps you to the bathroom. You go to the bathroom, and he runs a bath, and you realize how much more domestic your relationship has become in the last few weeks, to the point where it feels natural.
He helps you into the bath and slips in behind. You two talk more in the bath as he pampers you. You have never felt more at home than when you were wrapped in Jeno’s arms. When you get out, he lays you back on the bed before cuddling up beside you. You study his face, and for the first time in awhile, you take a good, long look. If you looked close enough, you could still see traces of the boy you knew all those years ago under the man that stared back at you. For some reason, that made everything hurt. You knew Jeno would do anything to protect you, but who would protect him? With Jaemin gone, all he had was you. You shut your eyes at the thought.
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You don't know what your thinking; you just knew you had to be strong and that you were going to put an end to this tonight. You didn’t have his number anymore, but you always knew where to find him. 
It was getting late, and instead of heading to the gym for your weekly training with Jeno, you were on the other side of town. You hug your jacket tighter to your chest, bracing yourself against the cold winds of the night. When you turn a corner, the flashing neon lights almost blind you.
찬스노래방
Chance Karoake
You open the door to the front of the building and make your way in. You put on your brave face before trekking over to the back of the shady building. Room 0824 was your destination. 
This was the building Yuta ran most of his deals out of. Karaoke rooms are a known hotspot for drug deals and other illegal trades. It was rare to see Yuta here now due to the fact that he had to keep his image clean but you knew his schedule and you knew when he would pop in. Dont get him wrong; yuta wasnt some big-shot crime boss, he was just some kid who dealt in shady business. 
You knock on the door and wait. When the door swings open, a cloud of smoke hits you in the face. The room stinks of weed and disposables, the smoke burning your eyes as you try to focus on the figure in front of you. 
Cheshire grin meets an apprehensive frown as you stand face-to-face with Yuta.
“Welcome home, doll”
You feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins at the man standing in front of you, the source of so much trouble in your life. The atmosphere is tense, filled with the lingering smell of drugs and the weight of unspoken threats. You knew this was your chance to finally confront him and put an end to this dangerous game you've been forced to play. With a steely glance, you lock eyes with Yuta and prepare yourself for the confrontation that will determine the course of your future.
“Don't call me that” You push past him and enter the room. There is plenty of sitting room on the couch, but you’re too anxious, so you decide to stand. A few of his friends occupy the room, and he doesn't have to tell them twice to leave the two of you alone.
Even after all this time and all your history together, you cannot bring yourself to look him in the eyes. Jeno was right; he terrified you. You could pretend to be brave all you wanted, but the truth was, you were just a scared little girl inside. 
“Don't push me, doll,” he warns before wrapping slender fingers around your jaw and forcing you to look at him. “Where's your little boyfriend? Not here to save you?” he taunts
“I want you to leave him alone,” you grit out. You had to be brave.
“You think you can just walk in here and give me orders? You forget who you belong to?” He shakes your face in his grasp.
You rip his hand from your face and twist. No, you would not let him control you any longer. This had all gone too far. Despite feeling intimidated, you refuse to submit to his control any longer.
All you could think about was Jeno; you couldn't let him get hurt anymore because of you. You loved him more than you feared Yuta. You refuse to let him own you.
With the grasp that you have on his arm, you twist his wrist farther until hes crippling down onto his knees. As he winced in agony, you could see the fear etched on his face. With a steely resolve, you pressed harder. His cries echoed in the empty room as you held him in place, making sure he felt every ounce of pain he had caused. Your grip tightened, a silent promise that this would be the last time he hurt anyone.
“If you want to continue playing and keep your scholarship, I suggest you leave me the hell alone. Next time you harass me, I'll break it,” you spit.
With a final, warning glare, you released your grip on his wrist. His body crumpled to the floor, gasping for breath as he clutched his throbbing wrist. You had made it clear that harassment would not be tolerated, and the threat of losing his scholarship hung heavy in the air. 
The weight that had been dragging you down for so long began to lift, replaced by a newfound sense of confidence and self-worth. With your head held high, you strode forward. Although you know for certain that Jeno would kill you if he ever found out, you think deep down he would be proud; after all, he created this monster.
When you get home, Ryujin’s on your ass for being out so late. When she had called Jeno and he hadn't seen you either, she thought the worst had happened. You check your phone and find 10 missed calls and even more frantic text messages from Jeno. 
You apologize for causing worry to Ryujin and explain that you lost track of time while out. You decide to quickly call Jeno back to assure him your okay. 
You wait as the phone rings, but there is no answer. You call again, and he still doesn't pick up. Something didn't feel right, and you grabbed your keys, rushing out of the house.
“You just got here; where are you going?” a stern Ryujin calls.
“Gotta find Jeno!” you call back before hopping back into your car.
For as long as you’ve known him, you knew Jeno could be a hothead sometimes. You knew the moment he heard you were missing, he went out himself to go looking for you. You drove to his house to find him. When you pull into his driveway, it's empty. You park and rush up the stairs to his apartment. You bang on the door until someone answers. You almost sigh in relief until you realize its not Jeno. The person on the other side of the door looked clearly aggravated. His black hair was messily strewn on his head, and his shirt hung off his frame like he just threw it on. 
“Can I help you? A raspy voice calls
“Uh, im looking for Jeno,” you ask the man
“He left like an hour ago,” he yawns lazily, leaning against the door frame like he could barely stay awake. “Its almost one in the morning. Whats going on?” 
“Its nothing; can you call me if he shows back up” you ask frantically.  If Jeno had left an hour ago, who knows where he could be now? You give him your number, and he tells you his name is Mark. You thank him and rush back to your car. Your about to pull out when your phone lights up. Jeno was calling you back.
“Hello? Jeno where have you been?” You feel a weight lift off your shoulder as you take your keys out of the ignition and slump back into your seat. 
“”I found Yuta”
“Jeno…What did you do to him?”
“I beat his ass,” he says, “and then I made him tell me where you were”
“Jen—”
“Why did you think it was a good idea to go and threaten him on your own?”
“I had too. I had to do it for me”
“Where are you”
“At your apartment”
“Stay there”
You get out of your car and lean up against the hood, and you wait to see his car roll down the street. 
You breathe in the cold, crisp night air and let it soothe your nerves. You did not want to argue with Jeno, not right now. Headlights blind you as a car pulls up behind yours. You hear the engine cut off and the car door slam. As Jeno quickly approaches, you prepare yourself for the confrontation. The tension hangs heavy between you, but you take a deep breath and gather your thoughts before engaging in what could be a difficult conversation. 
"Jeno, can we talk about this—” You're left speechless as his lips meet yours in an unexpected kiss.
Confusion and conflicting emotions swirl within you as you reluctantly allow yourself to be swept up in the moment, momentarily forgetting all of your worries.
He pulls away and rests his forehead on yours “Don't scare me like that” His hands caress your face like he can't believe your standing in front of him, like he's making sure he's not dreaming. His frame is shaking, and you’re not sure if it was the cool night air or the light rain that chose this moment to fall, making him shiver.
He pulls you in for a tight hug, and your heart twists, your throat closes up, and you cry. You cry because you never want him to pull away; you cry because you realize how much he loves you; and you cry because you’re both safe.
“Im sorry Jen i didnt mean to—”
“No excuses,” he says, shaking his head “promise”
You hug him back tight and bury your head in his shoulder. “I promise I wont do anything like that again” 
He pulls away from you and you notice hes soaked to his bones. The rain had picked up and was now pouring down over you two; you could only imagine your clothes were in the same state. You laugh and push his wet hair out of his face.
“Mark is going to kill us if we soak the carpet.”
“I think he's already upset; I woke him up earlier. Come on, lets get you out of the rain”
He leads you inside by the hand, and you kick off your wet shoes and socks. You try your best to make your way to the bathroom to change. Jeno brings you some dry clothes, and he closes the door and changes alongside you into something more warm.
You follow him to his room with light steps, afraid of waking Mark up for a second time. You lay down next to Jeno in his bed, and you tangle your feet with his seeking warmth.
“I feel like my heart starts beating again when our hands hold each other,” he whispers
“Back then, when we drifted apart, every day felt like I was drowning. Now because you are here, I'm breathing,” you confess
He hugs you tighter and kisses the top of your head “im not going anywhere”
And you believe him, because somehow you had always known he was your guardian angel. You close your eyes, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the reassurance in his words. In that moment, you know that no matter what challenges may come, you both can face them together. With his arms around you and his promise to stay by your side, you finally feel at peace, knowing that you have found your way back to each other.
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ahsokaismyqueen · 2 months
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Death Wish Love Pairing - Tyler Owens x Reader Summary - You wake up in a hospital with no recollection of how you got there, only that you are now in pain. Thankfully, the presence of your boyfriend makes it a little better. Word Count - 1.1k Warnings - Language, but that's it! This is very fluffy and really just me dipping my toe in to see if I want to do more. <3
The first thing that you noticed when you woke up was the pain. It was dulled, no doubt by some intense medication, but it was there. Your head was pounding, your arm was aching and your knee might’ve been attempting to murder you if a limb could do so. What was worse than all that however, was the incessant beeping that told you where you had to be. 
The hospital. 
You hated the hospital. You were one of those people that would go weeks being sick and ignoring every symptom to avoid seeing  a doctor, something that drove Tyler crazy even though he knew you had a good reason for it. In fact, he never would have taken you here if he had a choice because he knew you wouldn’t want it. You tried to recall what that reason might be, but the last few hours of your mind drew up a blank. 
Realizing that no matter how long you kept your eyes closed, the reality was you were still in a hospital, you finally opened your eyes, looking up at the white spotted ceiling. It took a couple of blinks for your vision to come back into focus, but when it did, you took a look around the room, your eyes settling on the person sitting in the chair beside you. 
It was almost funny, seeing such a big man in such a small chair. While he was asleep, he didn’t look comfortable. His head was leaning against his own shoulder at an odd angle, his baseball cap clutched in his hands on his chest, and his legs spread as far as they could. He must have been miserable, sleeping like that. 
But he was here. 
It was a little bit selfish, you’d admit that. You had no idea how long he’d been asleep. It could have been minutes or hours, but either way, now that you were awake, you wanted some company. Your eyes landed on a cup that was laying at your bedside and a straw beside it. While it took you a couple of grabs to get it in your hands, your aim was remarkably good as you threw it at Tyler, the straw smacking him right in the face. 
He startled awake, and his gaze went straight to you. A relieved smile formed on his face, not even angry that you had just assaulted him with a straw. “Well, it looks like someone’s feeling better.”
“I don’t know if that’s the right term. Heavily drugged is more accurate.” You admitted, looking over at him once more and noticing the dark circles under his eyes and the state of his very creased flannel. “You look like shit.” You said. 
Tyler shook his head at you, but that smile you loved faded from his lips. He moved his chair closer to you, his knees bumping into the side of your bed, and you closed your eyes for a moment as he leaned forward and brushed some hair out of your face. “You scared the shit out of me baby.” 
“It must have been bad if you’re being so sweet to me.” You said, but you both knew that wasn’t true. Tyler was nothing but sweet to you, if not a bit protective. “I don’t remember anything.” You admitted. “Must have gotten knocked in the head pretty good.” 
“Yeah, stop signs’ll do that to you.” He said, sliding his hand down from your head to take yours in both of his. 
It took a minute for his words to sink in, and for you to realize what he was saying. “Are you telling me a stop sign-”
“Flew straight into your head, and then knocked you down on your arm and knee? Afraid so.” Tyler started caressing your hand with his thumb. “Haven’t seen that much blood in a long time, might’ve traumatized Dani a bit.” 
You let out a groan, and this time it wasn’t from pain. “They’re never gonna let me hear the end of this.” 
Tyler let out a short laugh of disbelief. “They’re just going to be glad that you’re okay.” 
“And then they’re going to tease me mercilessly.” You groaned again, putting your hand to your forehead dramatically only to wince when your hand touched a bandage. “Ouch.” 
He grabbed your hand with a sigh, pulling it away from your face. “Don’t do that.” 
You looked over at your boyfriend again, noting with a frown once again how stressed he looked. It wasn’t an emotion you saw often on his face. The few times you could recall seeing it were in the face of tornado damage. “Are you okay, seriously?” You asked, real concern in your voice. 
Tyler sent you a weak smile. “Carrying your bleeding body into the back of an ambulance wasn’t my favorite thing I’ve ever done.” 
You tried to put yourself in his shoes, imagining what it would have been like to see this man, this man you adored and loved with every fiber of your being, laying on the ground and not moving. It was a nightmare you had often with the line of work you were both in, and something you tried not to think about. Now though, reality had given you a slap in the face, and you knew that if you had seen Tyler like he must have seen you, you would have been hysterical. The thought of what he must have been through made you want to grab him and pull him into this tiny bed with you and hold him. But you knew that would probably break it, and this hospital visit was already going to be expensive, so you reached out with the arm that wasn’t hurting and cupped his handsome face in your hand. “I’m okay, baby.” You tried to reassure him, but at his look of disbelief, you backtracked. “Well . . . mostly.” 
He turned his head to press a soft kiss against your palm that still managed to send butterflies through your stomach, even with all the pain meds. “I’m getting you a helmet.” 
“Can it have your face on it?” You teased him. 
His genuine smile started to return to his face as he leaned forward. “Baby, it can have whatever you want on it.” 
Your fingers slid into his soft blonde hair, pulling him even closer until your lips were centimeters away. “I’ll take it under consideration.” 
Tyler’s smile was full on his face now as he leaned forward a little more to close the gap between the two of you when the heart rate monitor started beeping faster and faster. He pulled away to glance at it, then smirked at you. “That wouldn’t be because of me now would it?” He asked with a smirk. 
You shook your head at him. “Nope, definitely the pain meds wearing off.” 
But you were proven a liar as his soft lips pressed against yours. 
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0mg-bird · 2 months
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i would love it if you wrote anything with a shy reader and bob, but no pressure!
Two shy characters? I love it.
Shy Reader x B. Floyd
Summary: At the Navy bar your friends drag you to, you come across an aviator who isn’t like the rest of them.
Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, fluff!, Bob is so cute I wanna put him in my pocket even though I know he’s a grown man.
A/n: I did something a little different than my Jake story, hope you don’t hate it <3
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“I really wish we could have just stayed at the restaurant.” You awkwardly laugh as your friends, Ashley and Steff, pull you along with them.
“Oh come on, it’s my birthday so we’re going to get drunk and find a soldier to take home. One for each of us.” Steff says, already slightly tipsy from dinner.
You hide your frown, adjusting your curled hair and fiddle with your top.
You’ve never been into the Hard Deck, that’s what starts off your unsureness. You weren’t one for public outings, you enjoyed the company of your friends but they were always more adventurous than you.
There’s music playing and lots of people mingling, you’re practically hiding behind Ashley, following the two through the bar.
“You need a drink, you’re too stiff.” Ash says as the three of you sit at the bar.
“I’m always this stiff.” You reply, sitting on your stool. “Well, let’s fix that.” Steff giggles before ordering three drinks.
You chat and your anxious feelings subside, as soon as you get to thinking that bar scene really isn’t that bad, you hit a curve.
“God, they’re all so gorgeous.” Ash practically moans and you follow her line of sight to the group of uniforms behind you. They’re all playing pool and talking, all clad in tan and name badges.
“I like…that one- no! Him, yes, the tall one.” Steff bites her straw, motioning to a dirty blond with broad shoulders and great biceps.
Ash hums in agreement. “I like him too.”
“Well it’s my birthday so pick again.”
They have the argument for another minute or so, then as you finally dissociate from them, they’re telling you they’re going to go say hi.
“What? No just stay here…please?” You beg, not wanting to be left alone.
“We’ll be right back, I swear.” Steff says, kissing your cheek. “Have another drink and you’ll be fine.”
You groan and rub her lipstick off your face, then turn to the woman behind the bar. “I’ll have another Long Island, put it on the party girl’s tab.”
She smiles. “Coming right up.”
You blow out a puff of air, then look around. You must look awkward, sitting by yourself, not chatting like everyone else. When your drink comes, you look sip on your straw and look over your shoulder to see if your friends have gotten any farther with the guys they’re talking to. You smile at the way Steff is feeling her guy up, as you go to glance away, something catches your eye.
Someone.
He’s sitting on a stool, not fully engaged with the rest of the squad. As your eyes catch his stare, he looks away for a moment, then looks back.
A genuine smile he gives you, and then it’s your turn to slightly smile and look away.
Bob’s eyes keep shifting to your seated position across from him, and by the third time of his drifting off, Phoenix is onto his game.
“Are you gonna sit here like an idiot all night or are you going to talk to her?” She asks.
“What? I don’t know what-”
She rolls her eyes. “You’ve been staring at her like a puppy for twenty minutes. Go talk to her.”
The thought of approaching you seemed like a death wish. You were gorgeous, and any other previous times he’s approached a gorgeous girl, it ended with some sort of question about what Hangman was up to.
“No, she looks busy.” He says, looking back to the sunflower seeds in his cup.
“Busy doing what? Stirring the ice in her drink? That girl is bored out of her mind, Bob, go put her out of her misery.” She has a demanding tone that makes him stand, still unsure.
“What’s he doing?” Fanboy asks, noticing the way Bob slowly inches forward. “He’s gonna go talk to the girl he’s been ogling for too long.” Phoenix says.
“You go Bob!” Payback encourages, really just joking.
“Get me a beer while you’re at it!” Fanboy calls.
“Me too!” Phoenix and Payback add.
He walks with hesitation instead of determination, the entire time he thinks it’s a ridiculous idea.
He stops at the spot beside you. “Penny, can I get three beers?”
By his sudden presence, you startle, slightly jumping in your seat.
“Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to scare yuh.” He apologizes. You’re more beautiful up close, timid as you tell him it was okay.
“Why’re you sitting alone? If you don’t mind me asking?” He asks and you bite your lower lip, fighting a smile. “My friends are busy groping your friends over there.” You joke.
“Makes sense. You’re not a fan of their antics?”
You shake your head, nose scrunching. Bob takes in a small breath. “Well, I think it’s a real shame that you’re sitting alone. Why don’t you go back to your friends?”
You like his accent, it feels southern but you aren’t sure.
“Really, I’m fine. I’m not exactly a fan of the attention being on me.” You admit.
As Penny places three beer bottles in front of him, he grabs them up. “I think you should join me.” He rushes out, his tone just as surprised as you are.
“Join you?” You ask, looking to the group. Two guys are shoving each other back and forth, seeing who will fall over first. You’re not satisfied with the idea of involving yourself with that. “I think I’ll just wait for my friends to come back.”
He takes a seat beside you. “Can I join you then?”
No guy has ever been so persistent with you before, you’re not sure what to do. You look at his name tag.
“Okay, Floyd, you can stay but I’m kind of boring.”
He shakes his head. “I find that hard to believe and uh, you can call me Bob, everyone else does.”
Having him up close, you recognize how handsome he really is. Not the obnoxiously attractive that the rest of his crew is, he’s more reserved. You like that. His glasses are quirky and different, making him look all the better.
“I’d hate to keep you from your friends, Bobby.”
No one’s ever called him Bobby before, the way it sounds coming off your lips is addicting.
“Trust me, you’re doing me a favor.” He jokes. “You got a name?”
You look at your shoes and tell him. When he tries it out, you blush.
“I like that name.” He compliments.
“I think it’s kind of boring:”
“It’s not boring.”
You like the way he’s being so kind, most guys would have tried a pick up line by now, but Bob sits with utter curiosity in his eyes.
“So, you from here?” You ask, sucking on your straw.
“No, I’ve lived in Lemoore for a while but I’m stationed here until further notice. I grew up in Kentucky actually, then I joined the Navy and haven’t really been back.” He explains, watching the way you rest an elbow in the bar, then lean your head on your hand. “What about you? Are you from here?”
You shake your head. “No, I’m from up North actually. But I went to school down here and fell in love with it so here I am.”
The two of you are quickly immersed in conversation about childhood and travel and Bob watches you come out of your shell.
“You don’t want anything?” You asked, motioning to the bar.
“I don’t drink.” He explains, though he’s distracted by Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin who suddenly is crowding your space.
“Excuse me, is this guy bothering you?” He asks, joking around with Bob.
“Don’t you have a blonde to attend to, Bagman?” Bob questions, making the man drop his smile.
“I’m getting her a drink, her friend too.” He says before ordering two vodka sodas. He looks back at you. “Your party girlfriends are wanting you to join them.”
As you open your mouth to respond, a shout comes from the group. “Bob! What happened to the beers?”
Bob groans, then stands to gather the beers that have been sitting for twenty minutes. “I should get back to it.” He tells you with a smile, walking away.
You look around, confused. Maybe you put him off, maybe you gave the wrong signals. You grab your drink, finishing it quickly, and before you can second guess yourself, you follow after him.
As your presence is recognized, the crew halts in conversation.
This was a bad idea. You could turn back, it wasn’t too late.
As you go to do just that, Bob speaks. “Hi again.”
He’s motioning to the stool he was going to sit on, offering it to you instead.
You slowly sit, deciding on being brave.
You’re introduced to the rest of the group, and as you remember why you didn’t want to be around the guys your friends wanted to, Bob is there, talking to you so the others couldn’t. There’s plenty of jokes made that you force yourself to laugh at, just so you wouldn’t seem awkward, but the tale tell sign of you constantly checking the little leather watch on your wrist showed you were ready for some peace and quiet.
“You wanna go for a walk?” Bob’s voice is low next to your ear, it makes a shiver run through you.
As you look up, his face is surprisingly close to you. You slowly nod. “Okay.”
In the moment that everyone else is distracted by the two girls who adore the attention, the two of you head for the door. You don’t pull away as Bob clutches your hand, keeping you close as he leads you past people.
The music is immediately quieted as you make it to the fresh air, the gentle sound of the waves coming in is relaxing.
“I don’t love the crowds either.” He says as you make your way across the sidewalk. You’re busy looking out to the sand and waves. “Ash and Steff are really more the fun ones, they can have a good time with a group of people watching…I cannot.”
He likes the sound of your laugh, the way the white moonlight is hitting your features makes you seem radiant.
“I always thought the Navy would make me a more sociable person, I guess it has but I think it creeps people out, how quiet I am.” He chuckles.
Completely content with strolling beside you, he gives off an energy you feel utterly comfortable in.
“I like that you’re quiet, most Navy guys aren’t.”
He playfully squints at you. “You talk to a lot of Navy guys?”
Reevaluating your words, your cheeks flush. “No that’s not what I meant, I just meant that- they’re all a certain way- not that I would know! I have never slept with any man of uniform!”
Bob stands in surprise at your ramble, finding it humorous. As he laughs, you cover your face, embarrassed.
“Hey, I was just teasing. I swear, I was teasin’.” He grabs your wrists gently, prying your hands from you so he can look at your red face. “Come on, pretty girl, look at me.”
As soon as he says it, he feels embarrassed himself. The name just slipped out, he should’ve halted the words, he needs to apologize-
You look up at him, doe eyes and a small smile.
Your hearts pounding, your close proximity to him has you feeling hot. As the low crash of waves mixes with the ringing in your ears, you wonder what it would be like to live on the wild side, to do what people do in bars. If you were brave and stepped out of your shy personality, would he let you kiss him?
Bob’s gazing down at you, he’s trying to figure out what’s turning in your mind. One hand lets go of your wrist, it gently cups your cheek.
“I’m going to be bold.” You state with a determination that makes him nod.
“Okay.” Is all he says.
The hand he has a hold on, goes to rest on his chest. You’re surprised at the hardness of it, sure you knew he had to be physically fit to be in the line of work he’s in, but his body is so unsuspecting, it honestly makes him utterly attractive.
He watches you hyper fixate on your touch on his chest, and the warmth of you is enough to make him feel buzzed.
He doesn’t want to rush you, but every second where you don’t pursue whatever thought you have, is killing him.
You start thinking against it, you don’t want him to think you kiss strangers, it’s not who you are at all. You swallow hard, about to call the whole thing off and tell him goodnight. When you raise your head though, he’s lifting your face to his. You’re captivated, he’s embracing you so tenderly, kissing you with an unsure and unfamiliar passion.
You sigh deeply, he holds your hand to his chest, your free one slides over his shoulder. Slowly, shyly, your lips move against his, falling into a gentle rhythm.
Your heavy eyes are shut, the utter feeling of him is making an electricity flicker through you.
After a moment, he pulls away, both hands cradling your face now.
“Please tell me that’s what you were going to do.”
You nod with a fever. “Yes, that’s exactly what I was going to do.”
He kisses you quickly once more, just to get it out of his system. “What are you doing tomorrow?” He asks.
“Probably nursing Steff’s hang over, but if you call me I’ll do whatever you’re doing.”
He grins, liking the idea.
You continue your late night walk, and inside the bar, Coyote looks to the vacant stool with confusion. “Where’s Bob?”
The crew stops, then looks to the empty space.
“Stealth pilot, I’m telling you.” Hangman says. “This guy is always disappearing and popping back up again.”
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grippingbeskar · 2 years
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— joel miller x fem!reader
— warnings: explicit content minors dni, smutttt, dirty talk, very minimal plot sorry not sorry, swearing, needles, mention of injuries/cuts
— a/n: happy tlou release week!! this is set in jackson between the first and second game, i wrote the first part before i saw the show but just imagine with me okay. and it’s literally just bc i saw joel in that denim shirt and went yeah… i wanna fuck him in that. lmao. also dedicated to @everybirdfellsilent because we have been waiting for this show for so long and it’s finally here and oaoxosoxosox. wow.
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You hadn’t asked for much.
It was a simple fix, you were sure of it. Yes, you don’t know anything about how to fix hinges, nor do you have any clue about how you broke it in the first place. Either way, it’s just a few screws and a metal piece, so was it really that hard to find five minutes to fix it?
Leading another one of the horses into the stable, you pointedly step over the gate that now lays on the floor, too heavy for you to move it. The horse tramples it, of course, which is why you had asked for someone to come and fix it before the horses were brought back in from patrol. Clearly, no one gave a shit about your question, but you know they’d all be the first to complain if it was their horse that got out through a broken gate.
It was late now, anyways. Too late for you to get anyone out, and even with the safety of Jackson’s walls keeping you blocked off from the outside world, being out at night still freaked you. When you finally got the horse in your hand settled and fed, you promptly sat yourself on the floor of the stable. Without the front gate, it wasn’t safe to leave the horses alone. With your luck, they’d get spooked and run all the way through town, and the last thing you needed was more reason for the people in here to look at you.
It wasn’t that you weren’t liked— you just kept to yourself. This life was hard enough as it is, and you didn’t see the point in making friends when in five years this place would probably be full of strangers. People die every day out here, you knew that too well. You wanted to save yourself the heartache wherever you could.
All that anti social behaviour certainly didn’t win you any favours though— hence the still broken door. You loved it— you were good with horses, having lived in a farm before the outbreak, so you decided to volunteer to help in the stables, but it was hard work sometimes. It kept you busy enough, though, and horses never wanted to make conversation, so… win-win.
There was only one problem with working in here. Truthfully, it wasn’t so much as a problem and more of a chronic condition. At least, that’s the way it felt every time Joel Miller made some kind of appearance. Most people just left the horses tied up out front for you to take care of, but Joel seemed to enjoy the peace the stable provided— that and you never talked much, which seemed to work for him. On the days he’d come back from patrol, the two of you would share a few hushed conversations as you worked and he hid from the rest of Jackson, and then you’d fall into a comfortable silence, sometimes for hours at a time.
Weeks had passed like this, and every single day you got a little bit more interested in who the man really was, other than his clear infatuation with his horse. Right when he came in would be the time you talked the most, after about forty minutes it would get too busy and you’d work until the sun set. But those forty minutes started to stretch a little longer, and he seemed to gain interest in you, too. Maybe you were grasping at straws, but hearing Joel’s low voice rumble a few more words every time he spoke to you was doing wonders for your self esteem, and even you couldn’t deny the way your face warmed when he smiled at you.
“Hey, you still— damn. What happened here?” Joel calls from the gaping hole that is the stable door, and only because it’s his voice calling you do you look up.
“It’s been broken all day. I asked someone to fix it, but…” You shrug, sighing and leaning your head back on the small gate that was the only thing holding the horse behind you from leaping out down the main street. “I guess they had other shit to do. I can’t move it on my own.”
Joel considers you for a second, how your frame is backed against the gate, conveniently placed at the closest point to the open door. Then, he looks back to the door on the ground, and back up to you. He smirks.
“So you were plannin’ on sitting in here all night?” The weight of the day makes your shoulders slump forward, and for the first time you really consider your plan. “You gonna body check a horse when he makes a run for it?”
“Okay, it was a dumb plan. But, it’s that or let them all out and get stuck cleaning up the bar floor or something.” He smiles again, the setting sun behind him washing over his shoulders in a pretty orange colour. A tilt of his head in your direction has you standing up, taking the lead of his horse that he offers to you.
“You take him, I’ll go get my tools. Fix it up before sun down.” Before you can protest or tell him he doesn’t have to, he’s walking off to the right up the hill where his house sits.
You’d always been a bit jealous of the spot his house is. It’s far away enough from everyone that you get some real privacy, but close to the stables if you need a quick exit. He had a porch, too. One you spent a little too much of your time staring at during your work hours, when he spent his off days strumming a guitar right in your line of sight. He was just… peaceful to observe. He brought a calm to you that no one else seemed to be able to do, almost enough that you could forget about the world outside and just exist in that little bubble for a while.
You lead Joel’s horse inside, hearing it trample the door again, and hang up his saddle next to the stable. Joels horse is much like him— quiet unless provoked. You found it out the hard way when you first led it in with a routinely aggressive horse, thinking it’s demeanour would calm him down. The next morning you woke up to two very angry horses and a half bent gate of steel.
“Saved you your favourite spot.” You say to his horse, Old Beardy. You never asked how Joel picked the name, but for some reason it worked so well— at least, he was definitely older than most. “See? He’s right up there.”
The stable at the back was angled just right so that the small window at the height of a horses head pointed directly towards Joel’s porch. Not close enough to see anything other than the outside, but enough that you know it’s there. You don’t come in here often, Joel always taking his own horse in, but when you do you can’t help but notice the instant calming effect it has on Beardy— you might have more in common with this horse than half the people in Jackson.
When you find your way back to the front, Joel’s footsteps are trudging back down the hill. You’ll be fairly useless as anything other than company while he fixes the door, but you can’t seem to stop your heart from racing a million miles a minute as he gets closer and closer. Yes, he makes you forget about everything on the outside, but that’s mainly due to how insane he drives you. All those conversations in the stables and too long looks in town are just all too consuming, and now, when you see him come into sight, you have to put some physical difference between him and you.
“You don’t have to, Joel. Really, I’m sure someone’ll—“
“No, they won’t. Knowin’ the people around here, you’ll be sleepin’ on the floor till next year.” He bends down, and you drop yourself back to the floor and stare in some kind of mesmerised silence as he runs his hands over the broken hinges of the door.
In a few passing thoughts you’d never admit to yourself, you have an obsession with his hands. He was just so…capable. He could do so many things so easily— and some kind of backward wire in your brain fizzled with electricity at the sight of him in his element. He starts fiddling with tools, first starting to remove the broken hinge, muscles flexing as he tears off the old bolts.
“What happened?” He says, the words muffled by the screwdriver in his mouth.
“I have no clue. When I woke up this morning it was blown in. I spent a good hour trying to move it but it’s so—“ With one arm, he pulls it up to stand vertical, a fist wrapping around the edge of the gate. It doesn’t even look like he tried. “—heavy.”
“Come ‘ere and hold it straight.” He says, keeping one arm out in front of him, the other still holding the door up. “I won’t let it fall. Come on.”
“Like this?” You say, staring down at him as you finally reach the door and take a little bit of the weight. He flicks his eyes up, nodding and shifting on his knees to get a better angle on the door.
“Perfect.” He says softly, looking up at you for another split second before clearing his throat and screwing on a new hinge.
“You really didn’t have to do this, but thank-you.” Joel shakes his head, his fingers fiddling with a latch.
“Least I can do. Everyone should be up here helpin’ you anyways.” He stands up, and with only a barrier the width of a gated door, you can feel his body heat keeping you warm when he towers over you. “Keep holding it still.”
“Yeah.” You manage, eyes fluttering closed. “People help, though.”
“Oh, I bet.” He says, sarcasm dripping off his words as he laughs dryly.
“They do! Sometimes… I mean, it’s not their fault. I’m kind of a hermit up here. I don’t really make an effort, so I can’t blame them.” He stops working, his knuckles white over the railing of the gate, and looks to you.
“You’ve trained all these new horses to track better than those guys ever could. They’d die out there without ‘em. Carl doesn’t know his left from right— he got lost eight times last patrol. It’s cause of your horses he got back safe.” Joel’s face is more serious, his eyes sharp but still with a hint of softness that he often looks at you with. “Doesn’t matter if you ain’t makin’ friends. This ain’t middle school, and people should be helpin’ you no matter what. Least of all fixing a door.”
“That’s why I keep you around, Joel.” You smile lightly, his voice getting lower the angrier he gets.
“Good. You tell me next time, and I’ll come round and help. Avoid the whole town all together.” You hum, letting go of the gate as he hauls it up in the air and shuffled backward, setting it against the hinges. “How do you know so much about horses?”
“I lived on a farm, way back when. Besides, they’re easy to navigate once you get to know them.” Joel puts the screwdriver back in his mouth, and you can’t help but stare at him. The small scars on his face, peppered around his cheeks. Some are older, worn and faded, while the one across his nose is new. It’s not even scarred yet, still fresh
“You okay?” He says softly, tilting his head.
“Your face.” His eyebrows furrow, and you shake your head. “Sorry. You… did something happen on patrol? You have a cut—“
“Just a few clickers. Real old, hauled up in a caravan out west. Nothing we couldn’t handle.” The door drops into place, and he swings it out towards him. It sounds less squeaky than it usually did. “Good as new.”
“You should clean it.” You say, worry edging in your voice. “If it was clickers.”
“I’m fine.” He shrugs it off.
“Come on. It’s the least I can do. I have a first aid kit in the back, and then we can call it even.” He relents, locking the door behind him and stepping further into the stables. “Sit. I’ll get the kit.”
“Yes, ma’am.” You can hear a small smirk on his voice, and you roll your eyes, turning around to find the kit. “Why you got a first aid kit in here anyways?”
“You’re using it now, aren’t you?” You turn around, raising your eyebrows. “You’d be surprised how many people come here before going to medical. I started to stock up a little, do what I can. It’s not much, but I can clean it off and do some botched stitches until they see a real doctor.”
“And none of those guys came up to fix the god damn door?” He was getting angry again, and you tried to ignore the shiver that went up your spine when he spoke like that.
He was sitting on a small stool, putting him about waist height. When you stepped closer, shuffling your feet on the floor, he tilted his head up. His open legs invited you closer, nearly drawing you in with a magnetic field he was completely unaware of.
Armed with a cotton ball and disinfectant, your fingers were light enough to breeze along his jaw to hold him in place. He stares up at you, watching your eyes as they flit between the cut on his nose and his wandering gaze. His face is warm when you work up the courage to place your palm on his cheek, thumb gently smoothing over the salt and pepper flecks of his beard. He doesn’t flinch away when you press the cotton ball to his face, swiping across the bridge of his nose.
“Does it hurt?” You whisper, feeling the need to keep your voice low.
“No.” He does the same, the heat of his body making you shuffle slightly closer. His hands are in fists on his knees, like he’s straining to keep himself still. “Told you it was fine.”
“And I told you I wanted to help.” When you’re satisfied with the results, you take a fresh cotton pad and dry it up. “You might need stitches. It’s deep.”
“Go on.” He says, and you lean back, eyes wide.
“You want me to stitch your face together?”
“Good practise, and I trust you.” The simple words have your heart slamming against your rib cage, but instead of showing it you kneel in between his legs and search the contents of the kit for a needle.
“If I mess up your face, you knew what you signed up for.” When you find what you’re looking for, you straighten, Joel’s face is right in front of you. It takes you a second to realise just how close he is, and the position isn’t lost on him either. It’s probably the most emotive you’ve seen him, his jaw going tight from how hard he’s biting down.
“It’s already messed up. You’re fine.” He manages, his voice strained.
“Hold still.” Whispering the words, you lean closer and bring the needle to his skin. His eyes close, and it’s when you press the point into his nose that his hands shoot out in front of him, holding your hips gently.
“Sorry. Shit—“
“It’s fine. Are you okay?” He grunts in a way you think is affirming, so you keep threading the needle. You only need one stitch for a spot this small. “Your face isn’t messed up.”
“Huh?”
“It’s not. Messed up.” You feel his thumbs stroke along the bone of your hip just once before he stills again. You tie off the stitch, and his eyes open. “There. You’re pretty again.”
Your breathing was rapid even though you didn’t have a true reason for it, but neither of you moved. His hands— strong and so fucking capable, holding you still on your knees in front of him. His eyes were pools, inviting you in with a gleam of something shiny, and where you were nearly gasping he was calm and collected. In his element, like he was right where he should be.
The whole stable was a dull orange now, the colours dusting through the strands of Joel’s hair. It’s never really sitting right, wind whipping it out of control on patrol, but you have the urge to run your hands through it anyway. You let yourself explore one small piece of him, like he has to you, and your fingertips run back over the shell of his ear, tangling in his hair. He sucks in a short breath, leaning into the hold of your hand.
“Joel.” You say, voice so soft he would of never heard you if you weren’t so close, but you call for him and he leans closer. Your foreheads nearly touch, and his hands tighten their hold on you.
“Thank you, darlin’.” You sigh deeply, unable to keep yourself upright at the nickname. It rings through you, his accent strong and adding an entire other layer to why he’s so easy to fall into. You don’t even really notice how dark it’s gotten— you usually have sprinted home by now. But Joel’s here, and with him this close, you can’t think of anything else. He leans closer, and your eyes flutter closed.
“Can I kiss you?” He says, the brush of his lips against yours sending a tidal wave of need from your head to your feet.
“Only if you hurry up.” You answer helplessly, voice cracking, and he smiles against you and finally brings his mouth to yours.
It’s anything but calm. That peaceful energy of the stables is completely shattered and sorted into something electrical and sizzling. He yanks you forward, bodies pressing together as you use the leverage of your hand fisted in his hair to kiss him harder and deeper. It doesn’t take long before his tongue is swiping along your bottom lip, seeking permission.
You let him in— you’d let him do whatever he asked for if he kept pouring himself into you like this. He tasted good, which should be impossible but when you’ve been starved of something for this long it doesn’t matter what he does it’s just that he’s giving it to you. He moves his hands to the small of your back, pressing your hips right in the middle of his open legs, his other hand on the back of your head.
You feel him groan when you press together, the sound waking up parts of you that had been dormant for far too long. It was like he had access to each nerve in your body, and every little sound or touch had them blaring red and sparking.
“Fuck, darlin’. Come closer.” He groans into your mouth before kissing you again. You smile for a moment, not entirely sure how you could get any closer, and then it’s wiped off when he hauls you upward, hooking your legs around his waist on the stool. “Yeah. Right here.”
Your arms cling around his neck, his own searching up and down your body. Your shirt rides up with the movements and you moan every time he grazed along your skin. There’s something equally hard and soft about his hands— rough from years of work but soft with the way they hold you up, how they’re careful not to dip too low or high. You arch your back, giving him wordless permission, and he groans into your mouth again.
At some point you have to breath— both of you gasping for air in the quiet of the darkened stables. He brings his hands to your face, holding you against his forehead so he can look into your eyes. He was smiling too— like actually smiling, not that half smirk you’ve seen so often.
“What are we doin’?” He laughs, kissing you again.
“I don’t know, but can we keep going somewhere that doesn’t smell like horse shit?” You whisper and he laughs again. It’s sounds so good— like the sound of the beginning of your favourite song. It makes your heart sing, melting you into the tune. “Please, Joel. I really want…”
“Tell me, baby.” He moves, angles your head with swift moves of his fingers so he can kiss you lower. Under your jaw, and then he drags his mouth down, along your neck, teeth nipping softly… “Fuck knows I wanna hear you say it.”
“You. I really want you.” He hums against your skin, one arm hooking under your ass as he stands easily. You squeal, muffling the sound in the mop of hair on his head. As you walk outside, there’s only a few people still mulling around, and they turn their heads towards you when they hear your soft laughter mixed with Joel’s— two sounds that seem to alarm them more than clickers.
For the first time since you’d been here, you really don’t care if people are looking at you, or what they’re saying. When Joel locks the gate behind you and slides you down his chest to let your feet touch the floor, you are reminded once again of his ability to remove every single thought from your mind except him. Just him, and his hands on your hips, spinning you around and leading you up the hill towards his house. How every so often he’ll bend down, pressing his lips lightly to the back of your neck, and how you can feel his smile on your skin.
He guides you easily, your body on auto pilot to his small gestures, and when you finally rush up the few steps of his porch— one you’ve spent way too much time staring at from afar, you’re both attached to each others face like horny teenagers. He fumbles with the doors lock, jamming keys with aggressive force while his other hand stays soft and sweet on your waist, holding you against him. When the door gives out behind you he never lets you stumble, taking you in his stride with practised precision. You’ve seen the inside of his house, but never the layout, so as he guides you blindly through the hallway, your shut eyes and occupied mouth never see it coming when you fall backwards onto a bed.
“Let me take this off.” He mumbles against your lips, tugging at your shirt and jacket. In a tangle of limbs you both shove at the material, finally hooking it over your head. He presses you flat against the mattress again, hanging over you and running his hands up and down your sides in long, soothing strokes. “God damn gorgeous.”
“Your turn.” The blaze in his eyes dulls slightly at your comment, and he just bends to kiss you again. He links your hands in his own, pulling you away from where they were tugging at his shirt. “Joel.”
“Nothin’ there you wanna see, baby. Just let me look at you.” As sweet as his voice sounds, and as much as you want him to continue, you pull away from his greedy mouth.
“Please take your fucking shirt off.” You say harshly, biting at his bottom lip hard enough for his eyes to open again. He looks over you, taking in the sight of you under him with your arms pinned above your head, back arched towards him. He’s clearly contemplating how difficult it would be to ignore you, smirking a little when he looks up at your hands again.
“Or what? You gonna make me stop?” He kisses under your jaw, his free hand skating along your side, only stopping when his fingers reach the hem of your jeans. When he hears you gasp as his hand disappears under the fabric, he laughs. “Nah, you won’t make me stop. Want it just as bad as I do, don’t you?”
“But I want—“
“Shh, shh. I’ll give you what you want.” His mouth his dizzying— words and movements hot against your skin as his hand bypasses your underwear and drags slow circles against your clit, immediately drawing his name from your lips again. “There you go, darlin’. Feels good?”
“God— yeah, faster. Please.” Your chest was rising and falling so fast, trying to pull the air he was punching out of your lungs with every quick movement of his fingers. He hums at the praise, and you feel him shift above you, sitting up so he could slip one finger inside of you. “Fuck, Joel!”
“I know, baby.” He tilts his head up to kiss you again, tongue matching the fast and unpredictable pace of his hand. You can feel it building— pleasure rippling up your spine and fizzing low in your stomach, and your hands tug under Joel’s unrelenting grip.
He seems to forget he was meant to be holding you, his groans and concentration all focused on the way he was fucking you with his hand, so he lets you go, his hand going to hold your face. It makes you smile under him, but it quickly gets lost when you moan his name again, rolling your hips against him.
Now your hands are free, you have a moment of clarity when your eyes flutter open and see him staring at you; eyes flitting between your face and your chest. You want to have that— to see skin you’ve only thought about in the late hours of the night when you were alone, never admitting it to yourself when you woke the next day. You grab onto the hem of his shirt, ripping the denim up as far as you can, getting your hands on the bare skin of his back.
He doesn’t help you— too obsessed with the way you are writhing and moaning so loud the poeple down the street will know what your doing. Neither of you care about anything else than this, right here, and the fiery hot spark that’s lighting you up inside.
“Shirt, Joel.” You tug at the collar, then card your fingers through his hair and pull. He grumbles something, and then you whimper when his hand leaves you and he sits up on his knees. He was out of breath, towering over you and keeping you caged underneath him as he tore the shirt over his head and threw it behind him. When he leans back down, he doesn’t give you the time to admire him that you’d like, but you take what he gives you. He shoves your own jeans down, shaking them off you in one tug, and your eyes hardly have time to open before you feel the backs of your calves press against the flexing muscles of his bare shoulders.
“Perfect.” He says, speech almost slurred, and the look he gives you reminds you of the one he gave you in the barn. Before you can think enough on it, both of his hands hold your hips down and he gives you one last look before he buried his face in your pussy.
It doesn’t take much to have you screaming his name again, that sweet hot pleasure that was building so quickly comes rushing back with the wet heat of his mouth. He eats you out like he’s fucking hungry for it— pulling borderline shouts from deep in your chest, like something is bashing against your ribcage, only awoken by his complete and utter devotion. His tongue swirls and fingers curl, and you lose sense of direction, clawing at his hair and feeling his groan when you pull him into you.
There’s no where to go, stuck under his weight as he dives into your taste, at his mercy entirely. It was so different to see him undone— a sight you wouldn’t be able to forget next time he came into the stables all soft eyes and short words. No, here he was holding your eye contact, groaning your name as if you were the one doing this to him. He gave you no choice but to hurtle towards the edge of consciousness, knowing you wouldn’t be able to hold out under him much longer.
“Joel. Joel— fuck.” His lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently while his fingers curl inside you in a spot that has you seeing stars. “Oh, god—“
He doesn’t say anything when you cum, just groans into your pussy as he guides you through it. He sets pace and intensity, both of which are hard and almost unbearable, and he only drags himself away when you beg him to. Your legs shake, his hands smoothing over your thighs as his mouth presses wet kisses up your skin, over your stomach and chest, finally reaching your mouth with an overwhelming force.
You hum, tasting the combination of you and him together on his tongue, taking everything he needs to give you. He shuffles up, and you feel his cock pressing hard against your thigh, still straining in his jeans. You let him kiss you lazily, let him explore you this way while your hands busy themselves between your bodies, unzipping his jeans. When your palm brushes over his length still covered by his boxers, he hisses and his eyebrows furrow, like the pleasure is almost painful. You do it again and he shudders, pressing his forehead to yours.
“You’re so soft.” He murmurs past your ear when you slip your hand under the waistband. When your fingers wrap around him, you stay true to his word and stay light with your touch, not wanting him to finish just yet. You want to make it good for him— draw it out. Pay him back for everything he gave to you; not just tonight, but every night. “So fucking soft. Sweet.”
“You like that?” You ask innocently, stroking him again. Your thumb brushes over his tip and he shudders again, nearly shivering. “I can be gentle. Want you inside me, though.”
“Whatever you want. Fuck— anything you want to do to me. Please, baby. Not gonna last long if you keep doing that.” A single please was enough to grant him a thousand wishes, but you’ll settle for giving him just one.
He helps rid himself of the rest of his clothes, no insecurity in sight with the lower half of his body. There was no need to be… he was big. It made sense— he was a big guy, but it wasn’t just that. He was just… perfect.
“Eyes on me.” He says, pulling your gaze away from where your bodies are about to meet. “I want to see your face when I…”
He trails off when his tip lines up with your entrance. You bite your lip in anticipation, feeling the soaked pleasure coating him as he finally slides himself further and further. You both sigh, like a weight is being lifted from both of you. As if this was the way you were both meant to be.
He bottoms out, head buried in the crook of your neck as he chokes out your name. You feel full— the weight and stretch holding you to the bed, your arms strung lazily around his neck. Your fingers wander down his spine, keeping that soft lilt to your touch that he seems to thrive under. For all his hardness and strength, it’s the lightest touches that seem to crumble him the most.
“Fuck, baby. Feel so good around me.” Joel never speaks for the fun of it, but he says these things like he needs to. Strained and focused, like it’s a compulsion to tell you how good it feels. “Needed to fuck you for so long. You gonna let me make you feel good, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Joel. Please, I need— need you to move.” You whine like a spoilt child, and you are now that you’ve had a taste. He laughs once, a breathless sound, and then pulls out nearly all the way, only to slide back in with that same trained pace.
“Good girl.” He groans, and then picks up the pace.
It’s devastating. It’s the only way to describe it. He fucks you hard and slow, slowly etching himself into parts of your being you aren’t entirely sure he didn’t just create himself. Like he’s forged apart of you just for him, something low and hot, and he hits it with every, perfectly timed thrust. The bed rocks under him, but he doesn’t seem to care. Its creaks and groans are drowned out by his words and both of your moans.
You are incoherent— overcome by pleasure that shocks even the nerves in your fingers and toes, but it seems to have the opposite effect on Joel. He doesn’t fucking shut up— and it’s about the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced.
“So fucking tight around me.”
“God, you feel good.”
“You are so beautiful.”
“Gonna fuck you for days.” Is the last one you hear before his groans turn to borderline whimpers, his pace stuttering as you feel the coil in your stomach tighten and snap all at once. “Oh, fuck that’s it. Cum again for me. Jesus Christ—“
“Joel.” You can only whisper now— voice so strained that nothing could come out but his name. Your eyes roll back and you feel him fuck into you one or two more times, and then he pulls out and replaces himself with his hand. You ride out your pleasure on his skilled fingers, another wave of heat numbing you when you feel him spill onto your stomach, your back arching off the bed.
The room is suddenly dead quiet, nothing but panting breaths filling the silent house. He is still hanging over you, you can feel both of his forearms next to your head as he leans down to kiss you again. The warmth of his body is lifted just enough for him to use something soft to clean you off, and then he collapses beside you, tugging you onto his chest.
He runs his hand through your hair, stopping at your jaw to tilt you up. He kisses you again, the lack of oxygen making you giddy and dizzy, and you break the kiss only because your smiling so wide.
“What’s so funny?” He says, trying to be serious, but even in the dark you can see his matching grin.
“Just happy. Can I be happy?” It’s meant to be light hearted, but you feel him stop for a second, and then he tugs you a little closer.
“Yeah. Yeah, you can be.” He tucks you under his chin, sighing deeply as the rest of your body turns into him and tangles itself with him. “I am.”
You open your eyes a final time, seeing the pitch black dark outside. If it was light, you’d be able to see the stable from here, but it’s black out there. Usually it would make you uneasy, but tucked up under Joel’s safe arms, there’s nothing in the world that could make you feel more at peace.
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wife-of-all-dilfs · 9 months
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beautiful mess | f. odair
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summary: finnick knows exactly how to comfort you in a moment of insecurity.
pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader
warnings: established relationship, menstruation, fluff, boyfriend!finnick being a cutie patootie, angst, mild hurt/comfort, insecurity, a little overdramatic but it’s cute idc
notes: about to get my period so this is kind of self-indulgent lmao. the number of times I rewrote this is insane. i hope i didn’t disappoint <3
“You know, I think I could pull off one of those long wizard beards,” Finnick said, admiring himself in the bathroom mirror as he shaved down the slight stubble on his jaw. “Those ones that go down to your chest? I could decorate it with little seashells and twine. It’d look hot, don’t you think?”
His playful words didn’t register in your mind.
Frustrated tears threatened to spill as the hairbrush in your hand tugged harshly at the roots of your hair. Nausea was bubbling in your stomach as you stared at your reflection, feeling as though not a single human being in history had ever looked as ugly as you did right now.
“Sweetheart?”
Here you were standing next to a Greek god, meanwhile, your skin was all hot and blotchy, your hair was a tangled mess, and your stomach was aching something awful. Christ, you hated being on your period.
A hard lump was lodged in your throat; you tried to swallow it, but there was no use. Warm tears had already begun to stream down your cheeks. Unable to bear the sight of yourself any longer, you turned away from the mirror. As you reached for the bathroom door handle, a sharp unexpected cramp pierced at your insides, causing your legs to buckle and collapse to the cold tiled floor.
That was the last straw. You just couldn’t hold it in anymore. A disharmony of cries burst from your lips, reverberating around the small room as your shuddering body folded over itself. Curse the Fates for having you been born a girl.
Finnick, now switched to panic mode, quickly dropped to his knees before you, eyes wide and alert.
“Hey, hey!” he said soothingly as his hand moved to rub your back in support, though he wasn’t even sure what he was supporting.
A thousand-and-one distressing thoughts flew through his mind. Had someone died? Were you injured? Were you dying? Obviously, these ideas were a little irrational considering you were just standing next to him a second ago. But seeing the love of his life in pain and not knowing why made him fear the absolute worst.
“Baby, what happened? What’s wrong?”
All you could do was sob in response. You felt pathetic. Stupid, ugly, and pathetic. “How can you—” Another sob left your lips— “stand to look at me?!”
You could feel his hand stop moving which, illogically, made you even more upset.
“What?” he asked quietly. “What do you mean ‘stand to look at you’? Please, sweetheart. Talk to me.”
Finally, you forced yourself to sit up, revealing the tears that streaked your distraught expression. Finnick’s brows scrunched together, almost like he was in pain watching you in such a state of disarray. He tried to think of anything he might’ve done to make you feel this way because, of course, the first thing Finnick Odair would do was blame himself. But nothing came to mind.
Your heavy heart sank—he looked so worried. A part of your brain knew you were overreacting. Justa little bit. It made you feel even more terrible, knowing he was panicked simply because you didn’t like how you looked. Nevertheless….
“I look so ugly!” you cried. “My hair is all knotted, my face is all red and gross, my stomach is cramping, and—and… I’m just a mess!” You buried your face in your hands. “Why are you even with me?”
Shock was an understatement compared to what Finnick felt when those words left your mouth. Never in a million years would he believe someone like you—someone who looked like you—could ever possibly be insecure about their appearance, and now, of all times.
He gently reached out and removed the hands that shielded your face. You attempted to turn away to conceal yourself in shame, in fear that if he got too close, he would discover your flaws and see you the way you saw yourself. But he caught your chin with a single finger and compelled you to meet his gaze.
Yes, your skin was a little red and your eyes were a little bloodshot, but that didn’t mean you looked ugly. In fact, your rosy cheeks glowed with such radiance that the teardrops falling from your crystalline eyes looked like shimmering diamonds. Your lips, which were slightly quivering, were reddened and plump—an alluring contrast to the hue of your skin.
Not that he would say it given the insensitivity and selfishness of admitting such a thought, but he believed you cried quite beautifully.
“Because I don’t think you’re a mess,” Finnick said softly, ironically tucking multiple disordered strands of hair behind your ear. “You’re human, and you don’t need to look or feel perfect all the time. That’s why you’ve got me—I’ll always think the most of you. And when you’re feeling this way, I’ll always remind you so too.”
You tried to allow his compassionate words to seep into your brain, tried to turn his beliefs into your own. However, the storm of emotions inside your mind was refusing to dissipate. The insecurities just wouldn’t subside and Finnick could see it in your glossy eyes.
“Listen to me,” he said, his thumb brushing away a tear that fell across your skin. “Waking up and seeing your gorgeous face next to mine? That’s what gives me the strength to get up every morning. Those imperfections you’re so adamant about? They only make me love you so much more.
I love every part of you. Every so-called flaw, every tangled strand of hair on that pretty little head of yours.” He grinned as he consolingly ran his fingers through your hair which, in his opinion, was perfectly soft and smooth. “You’re my girl and nothing will ever make me want it any other way.”
Hearing his declaration had your heart aching in your chest. Your hand curled around his arm, needing some physical anchor to the reassuring words he spoke. There was nothing but sincerity in his voice, a sure-fire sign that he was telling the truth.
You realised you never had to worry about Finnick finding you unattractive. Though you were a little worried he was partially blind which, unfortunately, represented your own seemingly unshakeable insecurities.
“I wish I could see myself the way you do,” you whispered, voice hoarse from crying.
“I know,” he sighed. “I know, but just give it time. One day you’ll look back and wonder what the hell you were thinking. I mean, you? Ugly? Sweetheart, we might need to get you some glasses.”
You sniffled, lips stretching into a wobbly smile. “You’re an idiot.”
He lifted your hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Only for you,” he quipped in response, wearing a light-hearted smirk on his lips. “Come here.”
He opened his arms, beckoning you to seek solace in his embrace. You scooted closer, sinking into his broad chest as his arms enveloped you. Your legs were folded awkwardly beneath your body and Finnick’s back ached from the lack of support behind him, but neither of you seemed to mind.
What is love without a little suffering?
His hand stroked the length of your hair, curling random strands between his fingers in admiration. Your fingertips danced across his tanned skin, amorously tracing the words ‘I love you’ over and over. You weren’t sure if he even noticed; it didn’t really matter. The sentiment remained true.
You listened to his heart beating centimetres from your ear. Thump. Thump. Thump. And you were grateful it beat for you. You were so, so grateful for Finnick. For his strong arms that soothed you in their embrace. For his lips that released a swarm of butterflies in your stomach with just a quirk of their corners. For his voice that could lift you from the deepest, darkest pit at any given moment.
So, when you whispered, “Thank you,” it was much more than a show of appreciation for his words of reassurance. It was gratitude for his existence. His entire being. For his love which echoed your own.
“Always,” he whispered in return.
Time began to pass but you remained in the same position—holding each other closely, dearly. And then as more minutes passed, rationality began to set in. You were thinking about apologising for your dramatics, but Finnick had other ideas.
“Wait, did you say your stomach’s cramping?” he asked suddenly. You simply nodded. “Are you on your period?”
Your head turned to bury your face against his chest in embarrassment. “Yes,” your voice muffled into his shirt.
Finnick grinned to himself. He didn’t want to play the stereotype card but knowing that detail helped him understand your actions a little better now.
“Well,” he began, gently coaxing you away from his chest so he could look into your eyes. “How about you come sit with me in the kitchen, hm?” He caressed the line of your cheekbone as he spoke. “I’ll cook you some pancakes and then we can both melt into the couch all day. Does that sound good?”
You pretended to think about it for a moment, the hint of a smile tugging at your lips. “Chocolate chip pancakes?”
He made some noise between a chuckle and a scoff. “Of course. Anything else would be a culinary tragedy.”
“Oh, Finnick Odair,” you proclaimed theatrically, winding your arms around his neck as you pulled yourself further against him. “How I love you so.”
In response, his face lit up with a stupidly lovesick grin. This man will be the absolute death of me, you silently swore. You couldn’t help but lean in and press a soft endearing kiss to each dimple that hollowed his cheeks; doing so only made his smile stretch impossibly wider.
The touch of his deft fingertips settled on the sides of your cheeks, holding your face in his hands like it was his most prized possession—technically, you were. His smile never disappeared as he leaned forward, kissing you with such ardent affection that you were afraid your heart might give out from the consuming potency of his adoration.
It tasted like salt, your tears having now dried on your lips. More importantly, it tasted like love. Warm, sweet, syrupy love.
You pulled away, murmuring against his lips, “You would look hot with a wizard beard, by the way."
He chuckled lightly, sustaining the five-second break before returning to your lips to whisper the words, “I knew it.”
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love-belle · 1 year
Text
it's golden like daylight !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which the whole internet thinks that they're over but it's just a new beginning for them.
or
for when you know it's forever. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader
warnings - language
author's note - hello!! my first time writing for charles so i really hope u like it!! requests are open <3 thank you so much for reading, i love you <3
≡;- ꒰ °twitter ꒱
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≡.;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by carlossainz55, lewishamilton, yourbestfriend and 782,517 others
yourusername loving him was red 🍒
5,829 comments
username hahahahaha "was" hahahaha
username IS THIS A CONFIRMATION WHAT???? HELLO????
username what if this was my last straw.
yourbestfriend red is your colour fr
*liked by yourusername*
username guys..........i hate to say it but i think it's true
-> username no.
-> username lol what??? nooooOoooOOO??? they're legally not allowed to break up
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by y/n444angels, f1aaliyah, wag_.updates and others
f1newz formula one driver, charles leclerc and singer/songwriter y/n y/l/n have called it quits on their relationship of 4 years, sources close to the pair claim. "it just wasn't working out," the source explained, referring to the long distance between them and their busy schedules. "it just felt like the relationship had run its course," they continued, "obviously, they still hold a lot of respect for each other and will continue to remain close friends, as there's no bad blood between them." for more details, click on the link in our bio.
1,827 comments
username what do u MEAN that the relationship just RAN its course?????
username no bc the idea that a relationship can just be over like that, just "run its course" and that you had a limited time with your person, your partner and now it's over. it's so heartbreaking. my heart is breaking for both of them, they were so in love with each other 💔💔💔
username source is like "just trust me on this" lmfaooooo
username no way im believing this shit after charles called her his "motivation and the reason he pushes himself to do much better because she deserves the best"
username her caption, their interaction the last few weeks, this 😬😬😬 it all seems to be adding up i fear
username LMFAOOO NICE JOKE 🤣🤣🤣🙏🙏🙏🤪🤪🤪 !!!!!!!!!!!
username "to my muse, i already had an idea of what love would be like but u taught me a whole new meaning of it, i love u forever and ever in each and every lifetime" and u say they broke up???? bro they're not universally allowed to.
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by danielricciardo, yoursister, yourusername and 827,916 others
charles_leclerc stuck with me forever now 💌 cannot wait to slow dance around the kitchen at 3 in the morning for the rest of our lives. i didn't "fall" in love with you, i purposely, intentionally loved you and i always will, in this lifetime and all the others. any person would have been lucky to call you their love and i thank my skies and my constellations that i got to be that lucky person. here's to our forever ❤️ i love you
tagged yourusername
18,827 comments
username OH NY GOF
username SHUR THE FUCK UP WHAT OU M UHDO
username i just fell to my knees in walmart what.
yourusername forever never looked so good, i love you more than words could convey ❤️
-> charles_leclerc i love you mon ange ❤️
username hahahahahahaha!!!! ok!!!!!!!! nice!!!!!! happy for u!!!!!!!!!!!
username can't believe we really lost mother to a guy that drives around for a living
-> username i could be an uber driver just sayin 😮‍💨
danielricciardo the hardest secret to keep!! cannot wait to third wheel u for the rest of my life 🙏🙏🙏
*liked by charles_leclerc*
username I JUST SCREAMED SO LOUD OH MY GOD
lorenzotl the best sister in law ❤️
*liked by charles_leclerc*
lewishamilton congratulations ❤️❤️❤️ can finally post the pictures from that night ‼️
*liked by charles_leclerc*
username IM SO 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 892,827 others
yourusername it's golden like daylight ❤️‍🩹
been waiting my entire life to use these lyrics, thank u charles for finally making it happen 🙏 also, i love you and i cannot wait for our future?????? kinda sad u beat me at proposing first but it's okay bc i love the ring (and you!!!!!!) thank u for making me the happiest person alive ❤️❤️❤️
tagged charles_leclerc
19,178 comments
username THE CONTRAST IN THEIR CAPTIONS
username poetic bf 🤝 funny gf
username i love them your honour
carlossainz55 it took him 27938291 hours to pick a damn ring so u better cherish that rock
-> yourusername it's tiffany how could i not??? (it's perfect thank u for helping him out ❤️‍🩹)
username SHE'S SO AJAJSJKAJSJSKA
charles_leclerc it was about time i put a ring on that 💍💍
-> yourusername REALLLLLL (i love you so much thank u thank u thank u i love you u make me feel like all the colours of a sunset, all the hues)
username they're so ☹️☹️☹️
arthur_leclerc can't believe you're gonna be my sister in law (i love u, thank u for making him and us the happiest by being in our lives)
-> yourusername better get used to it (i love you all so much, my forever family)
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fanaticsnail · 4 months
Note
Sanji in his little "Kiss the Cook" apron.
Is it romantic? Starting as a joke with kisses on the cheek and temple until the two of you end up full on making out?
Or is it platonic? With the straw hats giving him little kisses in passing, starting with Luffy and spreading through the crew until even Zoro relents? Because what's better than kissing the homies goodnight?
You tell me snail, what's the move?
-♡♡ lots of love
"porque no los dos?"
Kiss the Cook
Masterlist here
Word Count: 1,700+
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Synopsis: Sanji was gifted an apron from Nami after returning back from town. Every member of the crew aside from Zoro and you have followed the embroidered instructions written on his chest, and he wasn't happy about the lack of kisses from you. You finally relent and give him what he wants.
Themes: platonic kisses, fluff, implied f!reader - but can be read as gn!reader, sanji has feelings for you, you have unspoken feelings for sanji, idiots in love, Sanji has lost that 'line-cook rizz'.
Notes: This has been in my ask box for less than a day. I don't know what it is about you, anon. As soon as I see those two little hearts I'm just overtaken by something. I blame the "kisses". @chikariart on twitter.
Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @indydonuts @feral-artistry @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @writingmysanity
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“Could these onions misbehave any more?” the chef grumbled under his breath, gritting his teeth and clamping hard down on his cigarette, “C’mon, now. What have I gotta do to get your layers off? Talk dirty to you?” He used the steel edge of his knife to attempt to pry the brown outer layer away from its fleshy underside with shaking hands. 
Sanji’s nerves were ignited, his whole composure on edge and waiting for the next intrusion in his kitchen and potential distraction from his work. 
When Nami brought the frilly pink apron his way, he was initially ecstatic at the notion he was thought of enough to be given a little gift. But as the red embroidery with white stitched hearts expressed consent for his body to be given sweet kisses at all times, he was truly alert. With an assault of affection from all who approached him each time he adorned the fabric in its wake, he was finding it difficult to focus on each mundane kitchen task. 
In this case, peeling onions was the bane of his existence. As the flickered peel almost withdrew from the circular bulb, it split and only chipped off a small amount of the outer layer. 
Sanji loved kisses, adored kisses: all the cheek, forehead and shoulder kisses he'd received from the crew. Cheeky Nami kisses, soft Robin kisses, and nibbled toothy kisses from Chopper were his favorites. 
He was less enthusiastic about hulking, wet kisses from Franky, nor the hungry cheek kisses from Luffy which was used to depict the state of his appetite. Usopp was the middle ground, his kisses were a tease on his shoulder with a rough clap and a gaggle of laughter immediately thereafter.
Brook’s kisses were actually quite funny to the blonde cook. As the skeleton man had no lips to kiss with, he resigned himself to the notion of simply walking past him, and taunting him with a melodic hum of the words: “kiss,” “kisses,” or an emphatic “mwah,” as he did so.
Of the members of the remaining crew, he was happy that the stinky moss-head kept his lips to himself. There was no way he would allow him the closer proximity to his body without starting a sparring match. He was, however, not so happy that you were yet to place your lips sweetly on the apple of his cheek. 
Sanji adored you, wanted to treat you with the utmost respect and dote on you alongside the other members of the crew. You were special to him, and he rationalized that his small crush was why he was craving a scrap of your attention so much. As he continued cursing at the onions, he heard a soft tap on the doorway to the kitchen. 
“Need help, cook?” Sanji looked up, noticing you leaning on the side of the door. He smiled softly at you, biting back his smile and gulping his insecurity. 
“Oh, beautiful angel,” he managed to turn away from the counter and look out the window as he resumed his battle with the onions, “I'm all good here, don't you worry yourself. Go relax with the others.” You clicked your tongue and stepped closer to the bench and stood a few feet away from the blonde cook. 
Noticing his posture, you knit your brows in puzzlement. He was twitching while he was going about his peeling, finally managing to coax the shell away from the exterior and sigh in relief. His cheeks were tinted a soft shade of pastel pink, his nose the most darkened by the blushy hue. 
Looking down, the frilly pink apron with ‘Kiss the Cook,’ held the final piece of information as to his nervous composure. You smiled softly at him, looking to where his hands skillfully minced the onions and threw them into a scorching pot with molten butter and aromatic herbs. 
He rinsed his hands in the sink, lathering them with soapy froth and soaking the suds with glassy water. The scent from the pot of sweetened onions with rosemary, sage and thyme had your mouth salivating in anticipation of what was to come. 
“What's cooking, good looking?” you smiled at him softly, gesturing with your chin to the pot on the stove. He froze up, his ears tinting darker with the shade of pink. 
“J-Just a mirepoix,” he stuttered out, prompting you to shake your head and offer him a soft laugh in response. Taking the extinguished cigarette out of his lips, he placed the butt in the bin beneath the sink. 
Noticing the tension in his body, you reach up and place a hand on his shoulder to urge him to turn to face you. He meets his gray orbs with yours, a sheepish look on his face as you gaze up into his eyes. 
“You've been off the line for too long, Sanji,” you scrunch your nose up playfully at him, “Lost that flirtatious kitchen charisma and banter, blushing like a bride at the most simple of compliments. What's going on with you?” You graze your fingers along his jaw, leaving a rising layer of goose flesh in its wake. 
“I-It’s-...” Sanji gulped his nerves back, hanging his head with a soft laugh and subtle shake in response, “...It's this stupid apron.” You look down at the apron with a smirk. 
“What about the ‘stupid apron’, Sanji?” you ask with a raised brow before gazing back into his eyes, “Not your color?” He continued smiling and shaking his head at you before looking up through his eyelashes into your questioning and puzzled eyes. 
“To be honest with you,” he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth to halt his words from sounding too eager, “I actually love it. Even though it started as a joke, it has actually made a big difference the way I’ve been feeling lately.” He shrugged, turning his eyes back to the ground and snickering, “Stupid, right?” 
Cupping his face, you elevate his head and hum at him in deep contemplation. 
“Not stupid,” you shrug at him, darting your eyes between his and flickering your gaze down to his lips, “Not stupid at all.” His breath hitched in his throat, eyes beginning to fill with hope as you drew your face ever closer to his. 
Closing his eyes, he parted his lips and anticipated feeling yours brush with them. His heart beat in his throat, his ears hearing that drum of hope ringing with his elevated pulse. As he drew his face closer still, the balloon of anticipation was instantly deflated as he felt your lips brush with the apple of his cheek and linger for less than a single second. 
As you withdrew from his cheek, Sanji was left feeling like a complete idiot. He stared vacantly, directly ahead with unblinking eyes and his ego completely deflated. His heart fizzled out like a flame being snuffed by a wet blanket. 
Looking at his vacant expression and the soft blush on his cheeks, you couldn’t help yourself. A single, timid kiss was not enough of an indulgence to grant to the blonde cook, in your opinion. You leaned forward once more, pressing a soft kiss on his angular jaw before pressing another on his neck above his pulse and beneath his ear lobe. 
Sanji’s breath hitched, his hands opening and closing in clenched fists and shaking extensions. Gasping, he leant his head to the side and whimpered at the soft touches you were pressing into his skin. His pulse quickened, his breath hitched, and his eyes clenched tightly shut as he argued with himself where to place his hands on you. 
Trailing your lips down to his collarbone, you pressed a sweet and gentle kiss against the bone before clamping your teeth down onto the flesh. Sanji mewled in pleasure at the attention, throwing his head back and drawing up his forearm to his face to catch the damp blood from exiting his nose. His head was dizzy, his lips parting and whining as he felt your tongue swirl around the soft bite to his collar. 
Pulling away from him, you sucked your lips into your mouth and bit-back your smile at his reaction. He slowly drew his eyes down to meet yours, the irises eclipsed by blown pupils and his desire. Giggling at him, you tilted your head to the side and clasped your hands behind your back and rocked on your feet. 
Sanji surged his body forward, claiming your cheeks beneath his hands and carding his fingers through your hair the moment his lips descended onto yours. You squeaked in response, immediately placing your hands on Sanji’s hips as he pinned you against the sink with his hips. His kisses were needy, desperate and full of desire. 
As he rotated his chin to deepen the oscillation, you reached up to his shoulder and tapped it twice while gasping in his mouth. He tugged himself away, looking down at you in shock with wide eyes and panting breath.
“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he began to hastily relay his apologies, “I didn’t mean to do that, truly. The other kisses I get from the crew are usually a little more hasty and less indulgent. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything, honest-.”
“-Sanji,” you laugh at him, looking up through half-hooded lashes and brushing your nose with his, “Your mirepoix is going to burn.” 
Immediately, Sanji broke himself away from you and stomped over to the large pot. He grumbled as he stirred the aromatics with a wooden spoon, growling under his breath, “This stupid apron has been nothing but a complete distraction.” You giggled at him as he aggressively began stirring at the pot to salvage the caramelizing vegetables. 
“That’s it,” he tore the apron away from his chest and cast it to the side, “No more kisses in the kitchen. I refuse to have good food spoil because I’ve been getting distracted by soft kisses… sweet kisses…” he trailed off, fishing around in his pocket for a cigarette after he rotated the vegetables within the butter. 
Shaking your head, you go and retrieve the apron from where he cast it aside and hung it over the kitchen table. Eyeing him over mischievously, you walk over to him and hold his hips firmly from behind and place one more soft kiss between his shoulder blades. 
“Come find me when you want to put on that stupid apron again, hm?” you utter, releasing his hips and making your way over to the kitchen doorway and out of the room with haste. 
Sanji shook his head with a warm smile and a dark blush. Looking to where you had just left, he sighed deeply and began to focus solely on the meal preparation with no more cause for distraction.
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anxiousnerdwritings · 8 months
Note
I am going FERAL over this imagine:
So basically Bruce brings reader home to be his new daughter/the boys' new sibling but Uh Oh! They now want you carnally and reader is just like "you said you wanted me as a daughter/sibling, wtf is this" and being their platonic darling is better than being shared between them romantically so reader tries to come off as innocent and child/sibling coded by being like "yeah I've never actually kissed or dated anyone before aren't I just so innocent" and the boys are like :)))
So then Dick says you can call him your boyfriend "just to feel it out" and Tim starts blatantly stealing your panties and Jason says he can give you your 1st kiss so you can "practice" with him and Bruce offers to teach you how to touch yourself and (and him) and when you try to walk it back cause the boys are being Freaks they're in their delulu era so eventually you end up tied to the bed with the boys and Bruce drawing straws over who gets to take what 1sts (like 1st date, kiss, virginity, ect).
And Damien is just in the background absolutely SEETHING cause the the boys and Bruce's Horny Time keeps interrupting his Mommy Time with the reader
And reader using Damien as kind of a shield cause what are they going to do, feel you up in front of a CHILD? Like just, "Stay Platonic :))"
Just that kind of pseudo incest makes me Feel Things (*/∀\*)(///∇///)
I'd love your thoughts/a fic based on this! Ty ❤️
TW: Brief mentions of pseudo incest(y) scenarios/behavior, manipulative tactics, yandere tendencies
(Okay so I’ll answer this with my thoughts for right now.)
I know I primarily write incest(y) related topics for my Game of Thrones/ASOIAF stuff but I have been tempted to/curious about branching it out into some of the other fandoms I write for 👀. (I’ve had a few ideas rolling around in my noggin for a bit if anyone is interested.) So I would be willing to give this a try. I’m down to experiment with some new stuff, within reason of course.
I imagine the Reader being older (probably 19-23), maybe even having been a runaway of sorts or not having a very stable home life, so when they’re given the ‘offer’ to become part of the family they’re looking to fulfill a familial void they’ve never experienced or have forgotten how it’s felt like. I definitely see Bruce and the rest of the boys keeping a very close eye on the Reader before they decide to finally bring them into their family, basically full on stalking them from the moment they caught their attention (you know how the Batfam works). It wouldn’t be a surprise if even before the Reader was with them physically that the boys developed a more carnal desire for them. At first, their intentions were completely platonic, but with all the lengthy observing and information gathering of their supposed-to-be-new-family-member eventually something changed in how they all saw their darling.
I really see the change in their obsession starting with either Dick or Tim first. Especially regarding some accidental or purposeful peeping Tom foolery. I feel like Bruce would be the last to fall victim to the change in direction or at the very least he’s the last one to admit to it. If Damian is younger than I see his obsession staying strictly platonic, but if he were much older than I could see him involving himself to the same depths as his family.
At first, I see things happening subtly. Knowing that at the very least a few of them are already in an obsessive-romantic headspace in regards to their darling before they even physically become part of the family the guys would try to be as welcoming as possible without revealing their true intentions. They don’t want to scare you off right away, they want you to walk into it semi-willingly at least. But the interactions with the Reader would show something else. The lingering touches, the being much closer to you than really necessary, the heated grazes over your clothes here and there that leave you wondering if that actually happened or not. I also kind of like the other members not being fully aware of each other’s change in obsession, everyone giving each other the side eye until it sets in and then all out war of who gets the darling to themself unfolds only to eventually end up with them working together and agreeing to share. That’s when Bruce’s heel-turn is revealed.
Once things get truly amped up, the interactions with the Reader really begin to escalate. The boys would walk around shirtless more often, all of them trying to get their darling to look at them, to really look at them. Eventually, it’s not just them being shitless but either them in nothing but their underwear or nothing at all. They start out as accidents but eventually it’s pretty loud and clear that the guys want you to see them, all of them, to even touch them and feel them to your hearts content. But thats not all, of course it’s not. The touching of their darling only gets all the more intense, to the point that you know damn well that they’re touching you and they want to leave you wanting for more. So much more. The Reader’s innocence and lack of experience would only spur them on even more. They absolutely thrive off of it. They all want to be your first, your first everything. There will be a lot of secret ‘lessons’ being given behind closed doors and telling of “Don’t tell Batdaddy or he’ll get real mad.” “Don’t let Jay know, or he’ll want to punish you for not doing this with him.” “Let this be our secret, (Name). Something just for you and me.” “Can’t tell anyone about this or they’ll ruin it for the both of us.” And they only get even worse from there.
I can’t see Alfred being okay with this in any situation, whatsoever. I think he especially would feel like Bruce and the other boys completely took advantage of the Reader and he would try his best to aid them in trying to keep up with the platonic intention of this entire fiasco. He would be a total cockblock, even going as far as helping Damian in his cockblocking endeavors. Alfred’s intention would be to play both sides so he knows how to help the Reader when it comes to Bruce and the others but it wouldn’t take too long for them to figure out that Alfred is working against them. Like, Alfred was all for the familial-platonic obsession but when things started getting more romantic he was ready to shut that shit down ASAP. You can’t tell me he hasn’t, at least a few times, locked Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Tim out of the house to give the Reader some peace and give Damian his much deserved allotted time with them.
Speaking of Damian, he is a menace (as per usual) but even more so than normal. He really doesn’t take too well to the new direction of his father’s and brothers’ obsession for the Reader. He thinks it’s pretty messed up but he sincerely likes and cares about the Reader and he wants them to stay, he wants them to continue being a part of the family forever so he’ll let some things slide. Some. He even may be willing to look the other way when it eventually comes to Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Tim baby-trapping the Reader if it means this whole ‘family’ thing becomes set in stone with the arrival of a new ‘sibling’. But for the most part, at least early on, Damian would be a huge pain in the ass for the other family members. He feels like he needs to step in to save his darling from the others and their ulterior motives. He’s all his parental/older sibling figure needs, at least at that point. He may even try to runaway with them to keep them safe from the others. Hell, he may even get his mother involved if he was desperate enough, especially if he saw the Reader as a parental figure. Or maybe even another Justice League member to either adopt him and the Reader so that he could have that family experience he was promised with the Reader. Or he would be completely content just living the rest of his life just him and the Reader, platonically of course.
It would either take Bruce or Dick to have a talk with Damian to get him to come to some agreement to allow them to continue with what they’re doing in regards to the Reader. I think Dick would get away with manipulating Damian much better than Bruce could. I think Damian would have some opinions about his father especially throughout this whole situation. Especially since I see Damian being very observant of how Dick, Jason and Tim are behaving towards the Reader early on and picking up on the fuckery taking place, even going as far as telling Bruce about it under the belief his father would be on his side (not ever fathoming the idea of his father also doing similar things to the Reader without him ever knowing). As far as Damian knew his father was completely platonic towards the Reader, as a ‘father’ should be. Right? So understandably Damian feels not only betrayed but also disgusted when he finds out that his father was and still is taking part in, acting in a similarly depraved fashion as the others.
Eventually, I could see them coming together and being one big ‘happy’ family. But it sure as hell comes at a price. (Usually the Reader’s freedom and sense of self outside of the obsession they’ve been dragged into, to drown in alongside their yandere(s).)
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yandereunsolved · 23 days
Text
Yandere Five w/ apocalypse reader— 'the end of the world is the most unfortunate circumstance to develop an obsessive trauma bond.'
Yandere Five had been but a barely pubescent teen when he so wisely chose to manipulate time to win an argument with his dismissive parental figure. It was jarring in the beginning. Everything he had ever known had been stripped from him. There was nothing left but debris and blood.
He always had his powers to aid him, yet for the first time they failed. He realized that his reliance on them is what caused this problem in the first place.
How could he be so idiotic?
Fastrack, six years or so, he tended to lose track due to the harsh winter blocking what was left of the sun and the overarching smog always present. Where was he going with this? Oh, yes. It made it difficult to calendar because of the extenuating circumstances.
It had to be about February when he met you. The snow had settled over more monotonous ruins of what was probably a rural town. Most of the sun rays were blocked by smog and strange cloud formations manipulated by the effects of it all. Still, he could see you, leaning against what still stood of a brick building, devoring a stale-looking twinkie.
"This one's interesting, huh, Dolores?" Think we're gonna have to shoot em'?"
Yandere Five ends up sticking by your side to culminate resources and find your true reasoning for being here. That's totally the justification, yeah. It isn't as if he is incredibly touch starved and on the edge of losing what little sanity he had. He just needs to figure you out. That he does, a little too well.
Yandere Five becomes overbearing. You can't tell if you are being questioned by your future murderer or stalker. He demands you answer all his questions promptly and with the utmost truth. He doesn't fluff them and act nicely or reply with basic human empathy. He simply loses his edge after he learns one more thing about you.
Are you allowed to do the same to him in return?
Absolutely not.
You learning about him is on a need to know basis. So if he feels that you need to know it, you will.
Take him by his word. You have to.
Yandere Five isn't the largest fan of physical affection, or physical anything in fact. It takes years in the apocalypse for him to willingly be touched by you. That's at least how he tries to appear. His expressions are always so blank and dismissive. A sarcastic quip is always on the tip of his sharp tongue.
Yet after only a few months of traveling together, he is more than eager to feel your skin under his.
He doesn't want to be near you, no, but you injured yourself by being foolish. He warned you against it, and still you continued. So now he is using some of the minimal medical supplies you both have so he can patch you up. If both of you were back pre-apocalypse, then he would definitely install a tracker inside your arm. For protection, obviously.
He doesn't want to be touched, no, but you're shivering. Losing the only other seemingly living human being, besides Delores, in the apocalypse would leave him at a great disadvantage.
He doesn't want intimacy with you, no. He has just to cuddle you to protect you and keep the nightmares away. He has to kiss your irresistible lips to keep your morale up. He has to let his thoughts about you to linger about in private, unexplored places so he may relieve himself to release relaxing and happy hormones. It's simple as that.
Deep down, he knows the true reason is that he has become utterly smitten with you. He has just chosen to do his best to gaslight himself, even though statistics state it only makes those feelings worse. Perhaps he wants that. Maybe he just wants one person in this fucked-up world that is his and his wholly and unequivocally.
Yandere Five even gets rid of his beloved Delores for you. He was growing paranoid about her. She kept teasing him about how lovesick he was. She was talking about starting to fall in love with you too. The final straw is when she said she wanted a threesome with you. In the dead of night, he disposed of her, a bullet in her head.
Strangely enough you dropped the subject after asking once. It puzzled him. Did you truly dislike Delores that much to be so nonchalant about her disappearance? Did you know what he did? Of course you didn't. You obviously hated Delores and are glad she is gone.
Good.
He likes it this way.
No more distractions, just you two.
Yandere Five doesn't want to figure out the equation to get back to his pre-apoctalyptic life. He writes down a bunch of meaningful numbers in chalk. They aren't coordinations for returning to the academy. They're calculations about your possible romantic relationship, sexual aspects, how submissive you are, and more.
He has detailed a four letter plan in his private journal.
S ubmissivness — how complacent are you? are you gullible to his tactic? how strong is your moral code? would you go along with him knowing how truly infatuated he is with your very existence?
I nterest — how are you feeling? what are your reactions? he needs to know every single thing about you. he needs to know all of your likes just as importantly as your dislikes.
N eutrality — how will his actions affect you and everything else around you? what is the path that will keep you closest to him while also making him seem like the one in charge? this is how we will know if he has gone too far.
S way — how close are others getting to you? are they looking to befriend you? are their true intentions more sinister? he has to analyze every expression and every movement of those who make any contact with you.
You call it his diary. It is not a diary! Diaries are for feelings; journals are filled with statistics. Besides, you won't ever find the location of his actual diary. He writes it in southern Sumerian anyway. You don't have a chance at deciphering it.
Yandere Five meets the Handler while you are snoozing away after a particularly hard day of labor. He can't believe the promise this strange woman puts before him. He works for this Commission for five years, and after that, he's good as done. He gets you in whatever place he wishes for the rest of your lives.
It's a bunch of bullshit as far as he's concerned. Miracles usually don't come with strings attached. Then again, does he really have a choice? He doesn't want to see you suffer anymore than you already have.
So he takes this once in a lifetime 'golden' opportunity.
Let's just hope this one doesn't bite him in the ass.
Yandere Five tells you that he has a way to get you out of here. The both of you just have to spend a little time away from each other. His body psychically aches while way from you, and it isn't just because he's a crotchety old man. The both of you weren't going to be young forever.
He doesn't necessarily hate the job until he learns that killing you is part of keeping the time continuum in check. He doesn't wait a day after learning that information. He takes your hand and escapes somewhere in the past.
Of course his calculations were rushed and were off in the worst possible way. Of course he ends up in the middle of his father's funeral, both of you stuck in your thirteen-year-old bodies. Of course Kalus has to make a sex joke about it.
Damn it! He wants to scream at the top of his lungs.
He needs you! He had you all to himself, and then other people just had to fuck it up.
It's okay. It's okay.
He'll figure out a way to stop all of this and keep you forever.
Forever. What a pleasant thought.
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silvergyus · 1 month
Note
best man and maid of honour being absolutely enemies and hating the living shit out of each other
hate sex at the bachelor/bachelorette parties?
"i hate you" - c.bg
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pairing: best man!beomgyu x maid of honor!reader
summary: your best friend is marrying the love of her life, but you can't stand her groom's best man, choi beomgyu. his arrival at her bachelorette party sends you into a rage, one that turns into something more heated than just an argument
warnings: hate sex, semi-public sex (bathroom at a club), dubcon (reader and bg are both somewhat intoxicated), pussy job, unprotected sex, pull out method, spanking, mention of hickeys, hair pulling (bg receiving), use of "baby/ princess/ pretty slut" for reader, insults as foreplay?
word count: 2,800+
part one of wedding season
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“How original.” Despite being impossibly close already, he pressed closer to you, more in your space. You felt the heat grow between your legs and swore it was the tequila. “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel then?”
“I hate you,” you spat through gritted teeth.
“Then why are you humping my leg?”
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I need to know where you’re having Soobin’s bachelor party
Your text sat unread alongside several other versions of the same message. God, he was driving you crazy.
It’s true that maybe you were taking your duties as maid of honor a little more seriously than you really needed to. You’d heard the wedding planner mutter that it was almost as if you were the bridezilla. But is it really your fault if the bride was your absolute best friend since childhood and didn’t have a party planning bone in her body? Her big day would be completely perfect in every way, you were going to make damn sure of it- which meant that you couldn’t kill the best man, no matter how much you wanted to.
----
You’d never been a big fan of Beomgyu. He was Soobin’s best friend. You adored Soobin- he made your best friend happy and always was kind and considerate of you when you third wheeled- but you couldn’t understand why someone so kind, so patient as Soobin would be best friends with someone like Beomgyu. They were polar opposites. Soobin was quiet; Beomgyu needed to be the life of the party. It was grating. He was too rowdy, too silly, too committed to the bit.
And right now, he was driving you completely crazy with his lack of responses.
You wanted this bachelorette party to be perfect, straight out of a movie. Dinner, drinks, tiny penis straws- a night to remember. Your best friend and her entire bridal party were going to pregame at your apartment before heading to her favorite club. Everyone would buy her drinks and make her feel like a princess until she got too drunk to walk. You’d even pre-ordered the Uber for the end of the night.
You’d planned out outfits and accessories and a perfect itinerary. This Saturday was going to be perfect. Only one thing could put a wrench in your plans, and he was currently leaving you on delivered.
----
Several days, many texts and a few voicemails later, Beomgyu finally replied.
Same day. Quit worrying. I have everything planned
Where though? You texted back immediately. But to no avail. He didn’t even open your reply.
“That asshole."
----
The bass pumped steadily through the speakers, a thumping you could feel in your chest. The night was going perfectly. Photos were perfectly candid, drinks were flowing steadily, not a hair on your head was out of place. Everyone’s dresses were shiny and slutty and looked damn good. Everything was perfect. Just as you planned. You were practically glowing- or maybe that was just a side effect of the tequila.
You were just about to snap another selfie with the bridal party when you heard a warbled “baby!” from across the bar. Your best friend’s eyes lit up as she turned around to see her fiance rushing towards her. Soobin, larger than life, appeared as a blur, scooping her up in his embrace and plastering drunken kisses across her face.
You froze. Fuck! What is he doing here?
The bride was whisked away by her husband-to-be, leaving you at the bar, mouth hung open in disbelief. Everything was perfect. How could this happen?
The culprit behind your ruined night slid into the seat next to yours. Choi Beomgyu, a nasty smirk on his face, appeared in your sight. Your blood boiled. “How dare you?” you hissed.
His face didn't change as he asked, “how dare I what?”
“How dare you show up here? You knew this was my choice for the bachelorette party.”
“Watch your tone, princess, it was literally not my fault.”
You scoffed, pissed at his tone and the pet name. “How is it not your fault that you’ve brought the guys here to ruin my girls’ night?”
“You know how Soobin gets when he drinks,” Beomgyu reminded you. The part of your brain that wasn’t swimming in tequila recognized that he had a point. You and your best friend had laughed more than once at the sentimental calls she received from a drunken Soobin, in his feelings after a few drinks and missing his girl. The part of your brain that just drank a margarita out of a tiny pink penis straw didn’t care that maybe Beomgyu had a point, that part of your brain was just pissed off.
Your mouth moved faster than the logical part of your brain as you cursed him out. How dare he ruin your night? Why would he do the one thing you asked him not to do? You texted him, so, so, so many times. Though you haven’t drank much, the alcohol mixed easily with the swirling emotions to take your anger from zero to ten quickly, and it wasn’t long before heads began to turn in your direction.
Beomgyu grabbed your wrist to pull you away from the bar, away from the curious eyes. You were reluctantly pulled along towards the shadows near the bathrooms. His grip on your arm only made your anger burn hotter. Who does he think he is?
He pulled you to a stop in the single-stall restroom, his hand finding its way to your waist. His touch was surprisingly gentle as he looked you in the eyes. “You need to calm down.”
"Why the fuck are you here? I told you not to come here. I told you so many times and you fucking showed up anyway!"
He sighed, leaning back as he did. “I told you; Soobin asked and I couldn’t say no.”
The light caught his dark hair at this angle, shining through his bangs and illuminating his features. Was he always this good looking?
Beomgyu noticed your pause. “That’s it then? Got nothing to say now? After that scene out there?”
You felt the anger in your blood pick up again. “Don’t act like I’m the asshole here!” You took a staggering step towards him in the tiny space as you raised your voice. “You could’ve distracted him!”
He took a step back, away from your advancement. He tilted his head, resting it against the dark red wall. Your temper stilled in your chest as your eyes fixated on his Adam's apple, on the sharp angle it possessed, how it jutted out from his pretty throat. What was happening to you? Why were you noticing things about him?
“You keep doing that.” His voice was low when he spoke, its trembling bass sent a shiver down your spine. You swore it was just the alcohol that made you squeeze your thighs together.
“Doing what?” Your voice was barely more than a whisper. You weren’t sure Beomgyu could hear it over the noise of the club, muffled but still noticeable in the small bathroom.
He moved towards you, caging you in, pressing you back against the cool stone of the sink. “Getting distracted.”
Your breath hitched as you took in his features. His brown eyes stared at you with something burning below the surface. His cheeks were flushed red from his own night of drinking. His full lips were parted just so, and were so, so close to yours.
You watched him smirk, laughing at you. The spark of anger flashed in you again. How dare he laugh at you? Put you in this compromising position? Take you away from you girls after ruining your night? “There you go again. Am I that distracting, princess?”
“Shut up.”
“How original.” Despite being impossibly close already, he pressed closer to you, more in your space. You felt the heat grow between your legs and told yourself it was the tequila. “Since it's just the two of us here," he leaned in so his breath fanned against your ear as he spoke. "Why don’t you tell me how you really feel then?”
“I hate you,” you spat through gritted teeth.
“Then why are you humping my leg?” His voice was deep and mischievous as he asked, dark eyes glinting with a look that made both your anger and the heat between your thighs swell.
You looked down in horror as he lifted the front of your dress to reveal a wet spot on his jeans. “Look baby, all wet just for me.” He was goading you, and fuck, it was working.
“Shut up,” you said again, shoving his shoulders hard so he stepped back. You followed, pushing him against the dark wall once more. Your hands found his collar as you spoke. “You never listen to me! You weren’t supposed to be here! You always make everything about you!” You were pissed, letting the alcohol bring up the feelings you’ve politely squashed down for months. You wanted him to know what you thought of him, needed him to know that you couldn’t stand to be around him. That he was the bane of your existence and this night was the icing on the cake.
But this close you could smell the cologne he dabbed on his throat, a warm, spicy scent that made your head spin a different way than the tequila did. His Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed, tilting his head to look at you and it filled your vision. You suddenly felt very hot and a very strong need to bite it, to mark him up.
“Is that everything? Or is there anything else you want to say?” You met his gaze, dark chocolatey, brown eyes rimmed with pretty lashes. Was Beomgyu hot? How had you never noticed him like this before?
His voice interrupted your thoughts. “Because if it is, I’d like to say that you are the most controlling, tight-wound, micro-managing person I’ve ever met. If it’s not your way, then it’s not right.” He grabbed your hands from his collar as he spoke, holding them tightly as he pushed you backwards until your ass met the cool stone of the sink. “Isn’t that so?”
The action threw you off your guard. He was toying with you in a way you didn’t expect. He was always a tease, but this was much more controlling than you’d ever seen him be. “Answer me.”
“Don’t fucking talk to me like that.”
“Or what?”
He stared at you, eyes burning into yours as you held your face fierce. You had no idea how to answer but you couldn’t back down. Not now, not to him.
The tension broke by way of Beomgyu claiming your lips with his, a swift kiss that shook you out of your competition. His lips were soft, slightly chapped as he nibbled at yours, tongue darting out to ask for entrance. His tongue was in your mouth, filling your head with notes of beer and whisky, a sharp contrast to the sickly sweet tequila that still coated your tongue. Fuck, he tasted good, deep and smoky, it paired so well with his cologne. Your head spun, fuzzy and light. You needed him, needed him now.
His hand groped your breast over the tight material of your dress, squeezing not for your pleasure but for his. His actions were rough, quickly pulling down the thin fabric to paw at your bra. You broke the kiss to gasp when his fingers pulled roughly at your nipple, but Beomgyu didn’t stop. His hands continued to squeeze and pull however they wanted as his teeth nipped at the column of your throat. It was maddening.
You tugged roughly at his hair, drawing a whine as you pulled him away from your neck. Through the haze in your head you could only remember that you couldn’t have any hickeys at the wedding. “Suck here.” You shoved his head roughly onto your chest, throwing your head back in ecstasy as his hot mouth found your nipple.
It was good, so good. Beomgyu made sweet noises against your skin when you pulled his hair, lightly in comparison to the rough tug that brought him to your chest. His mouth was good, but all the attention to your chest left you feeling needy in your core. You pulled his hair again, forcing his pretty lips away from your aching nipple. “Are you gonna fuck me?”
He rolled his eyes, mouth slick with his saliva. “Always so demanding.” He lifted you onto the ledge of the sink, fingers ghosting up your inner thigh. “Does this pussy need something?”
“Shut up and fuck me.”
“No,” he said, mischievous glint returning to his eyes. “Ask me nicely.”
You scoffed. As if.
But he held your gaze, challenging. You looked down to see the tent in his pants, clearly he wanted this too. But he didn’t budge. “Ask me nicely or I’ll leave you here like this.”
“Fuck you.”
He cocked his head. “Is that so?” His movements were quick as he turned you around so you stood, front plastered to the sink ledge. His hands reached beneath your dress to pull down your soaked panties, leaving you exposed, pressed to his back and facing yourself in the mirror. “If you’re not going to ask nicely, then I’m not going to fuck you.” His voice was a low growl in your ear.
A hand held your chest as you felt him unbutton his pants, actions sloppy and uncoordinated with one hand. You bit back a moan as you felt his hot cock press against your ass. He pushed it against your folds, nudging your clit and making you whine.
“Just this until you beg for my cock.” He thrust against you, cock gathering your drooling wetness and gliding, frustratingly smooth against your sensitive core. It wasn’t enough, couldn’t be enough. His cock felt delicious and hot against you, but it didn’t slip inside. You arched back, aching for him to be inside. He chuckled at the motion. “So desperate.” His hand slapped your ass, the sound loud in the tiny room. “C’mon, use your words.”
You shook your head, not wanting to give in, to let him win. He continued to thrust against your pussy, making a mess of the both of you. The tip of his cock snagged against your entrance and you moaned loudly, hanging your head as you gripped the cool stone sink in an attempt to ground yourself. 
He laughed at your display, hand finding your chin and forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror. “Look at yourself. Such a pretty slut for me,” he groped your chest as he whispered. The dual sensations of his tip brushing against your clit with every thrust and his fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples was driving you mad. You needed him, you couldn’t stand it. Paired with the soft pants and almost-hidden moans from Beomgyu behind you, you were stuck maddeningly on the edge.
“C’mon, say it. Ask me. Tell me you need my cock.” He smacked your ass again, pushing you into the sink and breaking your defenses.
“Please! Please Beomgyu, please give me your cock! Need it so bad, fuck, just put it inside.”
His smile was devilish as he kissed your throat. “Now, that wasn’t too hard, was it?”
He didn’t let you answer before pushing his cock fully inside you. Slick with your wetness, he went in smoothly, earning a loud moan from you at the sudden fullness. He groaned along with you, eyes crinkling shut as he took in the feeling. “God, this pussy.”
His hips snapped into you messily. Both of you were already so close to your peaks, there was no way that this would last long. His cock hit that spot inside of you perfectly at this angle. It was a sweaty mess of slick and pleasure and you weren’t sure how long you could hold off before crashing.
“Beomgyu,” you panted his name. “I’m close.” His hand reached down, finding your over-sensitive clit and pressing down roughly. “Don’t- don’t cum in me.” You grabbed his hand that gripped the sink. He nodded against your hair, not looking up.
“Cum on my dick baby, cum on my dick and I’ll cum on your ass.” You nodded, anywhere but inside.
He shoved his fingers in your mouth and you sucked, coating them in your spit. They returned to rub quick, hard circles on your clit. Your orgasm struck you like lighting, hot and heavy it poured down on you, splitting your fuzzy head wide open. Your legs shook against Beomgyu and before you were fully through your high he was pulling out to shoot his load across the bare skin of your ass.
The two of you stood there, leaning against the sink for support as you panted, coming down from your highs. Beomgyu’s forehead rested against your back.
You weren’t sure how much time passed before he shuffled away, still close, but not pressed against you. “We should,” you began. He was still beautiful, even after your cloud of rage-induced lust had faded. You cleared your throat. “We should, um, we should probably clean up. Go find everyone.”
His voice was husky when he spoke. “They’re probably wondering where we are.”
Your gaze lingered on him for a little too long before you replied softly, “yeah, probably.”
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author’s note: this is a work of fiction not meant to accurately represent the idol. please do not repost.
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