#yes the last three are all technically the same au but reader's life is different depending on which guy she chooses....
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satoruxx · 2 months ago
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WIP GAME
rules — list the names/titles of docs in your WIP folder + open your inbox to have people ask about them!
@twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat thank you for the tag ari my love !! had to dig very deeply into the files for this... and i'm gonna be so honest i forgot about half of these oops
anyways pls do ask me anything about these bc i need to talk about them and talking about them will make me get inspired to write them :3333
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the space between comfort and chaos. (part 5)
wolfhybrid!toji fushiguro x f!reader :: hybrid au, grumpy x sunshine, ongoing series (i'm obligated to put this here even though i think everyone knows about it)
dead reckoning.
geto suguru x f!reader, implied gojo satoru x f!reader :: canon au installment, angst, fluff, pining, unresolved feelings, bittersweet
untitled drabble.
wolfhybrid!toji fushiguro x reader :: hybrid au, in another timeline, how you and wolf!toji would meet if things played out differently, grumpy x sunshine, random thoughts about first meetings
say you'll love me to death, because i will.
vampire!sashisu x reader :: poly!sashisu, vampire x human, mutual pining, fluff, slow burn, lots of blood ??
crawling back to you.
tigerhybrid!ryomen sukuna x reader :: hybrid au, drabble, obssessive behavior, bickering, animalistic tendencies, jealousy, extremely grumpy x sunshine (he's not even grumpy he's just a hater)
ROYALTY AU
dying by your hand.
royal knight!gojo satoru x princess!reader :: royalty au, slow burn, childhood friends to lovers, bodyguard trope, mutual pining, lifelong devotion
angel eyes see the good in devils.
gladiator!toji fushiguro x princess!reader :: royalty au, forbidden romance, grumpy x sunshine
the illusion of a regime.
prince!geto suguru x princess!reader :: royalty au, enemies to lovers, slow burn, arranged marriage
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no pressure tags: @vagabond-umlaut @ryomance @pupkashi + anyone else who wants to do this !!
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queers-gambit · 2 years ago
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The Five Senses of You
prompt: ( requested ) first she saw him, then she smelt him, after, his voice never leaves her head and when in Wyoming, she discovers what he feels and tastes like. or a very shitty Soulmate AU
pairing: Joel Miller x female!reader
fandom masterlist: HBO's The Last of Us
word count: 4.7k+
note: i don't think i got this 'soulmate' thing right, so, i'm very sorry - please be gentle with me.
warnings: cursing, some spoilers, bad bad bad soulmate AU. half edited, author is disappointed in this but that's fine - this is fine. also, please note, author does not have ability to diagnose others with any condition; some listed details are from author's own experiences. ❗️season one spoilers
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The first time you saw him, he was hauling euthanized Infected corpses into a bonfire with about 20 other people. In a sea of muted colors, it was his arms in his dingy button-up that first caught your eyes but it was everything about him that made you linger.
He was mesmerizing to watch, so, you paused when you caught sight of him, keeping to the shadows, and watching him for the better part of an hour.
He was an intriguing man that you wanted to know more about, yet nerves always directed you off your wanted-path. Why you felt so magnetic to this man, you were unsure, and yet, so calm about your blossoming attraction. By any means, he wasn't a nice man, but for the life of you, you were desperately curious about the smuggler.
Can you say Daddy Issues?
So, you waited and watched from the shadows; remaining out of sight and mind, always up-wind, and usually from behind a structure. Timid, some might call you. Cautious, others defended. Curious, your friends knew you to be.
Feeling as if he was being watched, Joel would occasionally look up and around when he felt himself being watched - but chalked his nerves up to being the FEDRA officers on duty. You remained invisible to him, but you understood you were done for and he was all you wanted. With a single glimpse, your world had changed, and time would forever slow to an agonizing grind until he was yours.
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The first time you smelled him, you were following him on the street - being ignored by him, but allowing for a nose-full.
He was moving stiffly through the crowds, those who were in his way just seeming to sense him - stepping out of the way. It was fascinating to watch, wondering what he'd done to command such respect but after lingering around the dining hall, you understood he was also a dealer.
So, you tailed him for a few blocks and it was then the wind blew, and you were smacked in the face by his scent. He smelt of body odor, yes, but also of fire and burnt flesh. However, because you understood this man to be something vastly different to you than anyone else, there was also a hint of... Lemon, sandalwood, and after another long inhale, leather.
You smirked as his sweat seemingly secreted his natural scent so that only you could truly smell it, wondering what your scent was to him. After three blocks, there was more wind, and you started to feel calmed from the smell, but then, you had to step off into an alley when Joel perked his head up and felt someone watching him again. He paused, looked around with suspicion, but then continued towards his destination.
You formed a plan in your head.
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The first time you heard his voice, he was dealing you Xanax and you'd never be the same. Your life wouldn't be the same once you heard his voice, and now that it was in your head, it would live rent free. Once upon a time, when you had a family, the woman who birthed you had explained your sire was her "soulmate" and that you'd find one only after you turned 30.
Why age 30?
Who fucking knew - but it was better than when you turned 18! I know, technically, that's when you're a legal adult but for fuck's sake, being 18 doesn't mean you're grown up. So, for whatever reason, your soulmate wouldn't be revealed until after you were 30, and it took years to finally find him.
His voice was gruff, asking, "What're you lookin' at?"
"Heard if something's needed, you're the man to ask."
Joel eyed you, "Get outta here, kid. Don't got shit for you."
"Oh, how flattering," you quipped, "but I'm not a kid, and just need some help. You're the guy I'm told to talk to."
"I don't sell to - "
"Call me a kid, again," you narrowed your eyes.
Joel Miller scoffed, then sighed, arms tight across his chest, "What do you want, then?"
"Xanax."
Joel paused, "I got some of those."
"So...? Meet where?"
"You know the old Maccy's?"
"Yeah."
"Behind there," he nodded, the two of you parting ways for only an hour. He had stopped to up his stash, showing you the offerings of his slim pickings; surprised when you wanted the whole bag. "It'll cost you - "
"Here," you nodded, shoving the wad of ration cards and plastic baggie back at him.
"Shit, doll, if I knew you were a heavy tipper..." Joel mused, fingering through his haul.
"I don't need them anymore," You shrugged off, lacing your backpack up securely.
"Why's that?"
"'Cause I'm leavin' this place," nodding slowly, you eyed him. "I figured with all that's out there, I'd do well to control my anxiety."
"Smart," Joel shrugged. "Good luck out there."
You nodded, "Good luck to you, too... In whatever the fuck it is you do." With a chuckle, you waved back at him before disappearing - but neither of you would ever be the same.
Now that you knew his voice, he would float in and out of your head. Apparently, now that he knew your voice, too, he could hear it during times of distress, turmoil, and stress. Usually, Joel was asleep when your voice was ringing in his ears, preventing distraction from everyday work, but that didn't mean it was down to an exact science. He learned through your thoughts of panic when Infected attacked that Tommy was with your group - but couldn't communicate to him.
He could only offer you advice and guidance.
And in turn, you could only do the same for him when smuggling missions went sour. It wasn't as frequent during your escape West, but sometimes, you'd dream of Joel and Tess in a high-stress situation, offering words of wisdom and comfort to help direct him.
It was funny the way Joel would snap at you in his head to get out, never wanting to be the dependent on. He never needed help because he was a big strong man.
By that, you mean Joel was stubborn and didn't always listen to your advice, but he stayed alive because you were there, like some kind of angel on his shoulder. Joel's own conscious was the devil, constantly trying to beat your words out of his brain but to no such avail. If he was romantic, he might even say you had the voice of an angel but in this world, Joel didn't have time for romance.
You were like a bumblebee on a summer day: content to be there, content to observe, always dodging [Joel's] swatting hands. Like the bumblebee, however, you didn't give up; still buzzing in his ears.
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After that, his voice comes-and-goes in your head by the time you and his brother, Tommy, find the Wyoming commune in Jackson. You're both welcomed after a vigorous interview where you were both granted entrance after being assigned jobs. Tommy would work in carpentry and you would put your old, dusty doctorate degree to use.
Now that you were somewhere safe, Joel's voice stopped visiting you as frequently, but yours remained in his leading up to his mission out West after Tommy. He was faced with endless foes, new and old, and you were constantly dreaming of him at night.
Not that you really minded, but you grew nervous for his safety on several occasions. Being a smuggler had it's ups and downs, and while you wanted to scream at Joel to leave Tess behind and get himself to safety, you always - and I mean always find a way out for them both.
Maria, being Tommy's soulmate and your friend, was there to answer your questions and give you a shoulder to lean on when you grew exhausted. You often wondered if you'd ever get the chance to see your mate again, but tried not to convince yourself it was impossible.
So, when Joel was "assigned" to the immune child, Ellie, you were constantly sleeping-in those days - constantly listening to Joel and offering your advice. This time, he didn't argue, he didn't fight it, he actually listened to you because Tess was dead and he had this child to look after. It wasn't easy, but, you eventually caught a break when they escaped Boston city.
However, that doesn't mean you were off the hook. Joel and this girl he traveled with, Ellie, encountered many enemies in their time outside the QZ, and while you wanted to help, seeing the ground split open and spew mutated Infected outside of Kansas City scared you shitless. You knew you weren't there, they couldn't see you, touch you, let alone hurt you, but you still grew terrified of these... Adaptations.
These weren't regular Clickers.
And then, after that, the two had limited encounters with people or Infected... That was, after Henry and Sam, of course. It's when you'd visit Joel the most; where he wasn't in physical jeopardy, he was in emotional turmoil and needed comfort.
So, you'd sleep longer in an effort to visit him when he was resting; simply being a presence in his mind to try and offer solace where you could. This was where he stonewalled you; refusing to let you in on his secretive past and trying to force you from his mind.
You stopped prying and just spoke to him calmly, letting your voice echo through his dreams as you tried to help his subconscious conjure peaceful images and soothing thoughts. He grew to rely on your words to bring comfort, liking the idea of someone caring enough that they're content to simply just "be".
He's never had that in a partner before, because even though Tess didn't always need to talk, she liked to keep busy and that always filled any silence. Joel didn't always like that.
So, through their journey on foot, you were the single constant Joel had to hold onto after losing everyone in his life. He liked your docile tones and the way your accent was different than his - where his was faded and yours more prominent. Ellie had no idea about the woman in Joel's head, she'd probably think him crazy, but in reality, she'd be excited for the man to finally have something to make him smile.
Or at least calm him down a little bit.
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The first time you learned what he felt like was when you were tending to the horses as Maria gave her tour. She made introductions but you knew Tommy and Joel, just not the spitfire 14-year-old traveling with your soulmate. It was pleasant enough, making your introductions, but to say Joel was shocked to see you was an understatement.
However, when he went to had a private conversation with his brother, something in your chest stirred to life. You quickly wrapped up your chores before shouldering your pack and venturing towards town. You were just in time to see Joel lean on a lamppost, feeling his mind twist in confusion enough to make you approach.
"Hey, hey," you whispered, getting under his arm to support him, "don't fight the feeling, Joel, just let it ride."
"What - "
"It's anxiety, my friend," you sighed, nodding at him. "How your heart feels like it's going to break? Or beat right out of your chest? How the muscle walls feel like their coiling and constricting you? 'S hard to breathe?"
He nodded.
"Anxiety ain't no joke, Joel, here, come with me," you nodded, and to your honest surprise, he let you drag him off.
"You're her."
"Hmm?"
"You're who I hear. I-I thought I recognized the voice, but you left the QZ right after our deal."
"Keepin' tabs on me?" You teased with a small smirk. "Here, this way," you turned him, walking onward. He was quiet, looking distraught and his free hand still clutched his chest. You wondered, "What was it?"
"What was what?"
"Your trigger?" Joel sighed, shaking his head. So, you asked, "Your kid?"
His eyes snapped down to glare at you, making you look up at him with little patience. "Don't," he snapped.
"Think you're the only one 'round here who lost someone? Tragically?" You grunted, reaching your house's door. He paused with you and only then did you become acutely aware of your hold around his waist. You tried not to focus on the feel of his arm around your shoulders for balance, his coat blocking most of your feeling, but when you two stepped inside your home, Joel actually shed his jacket. "Make yourself comfortable," you offered, pointing towards the living room.
"That a fireplace? Looks new?"
"Oh, yeah, your brother helped me build it because he knows I prefer a fireplace over central," you shrugged, hanging both your coats up and toeing out of your work boots. "Sometimes the smell soothes me... Reminds me of summer nights before the world went to shit."
"Yeah," Joel sighed.
You nodded and moved to the master bathroom, grabbing the bottle you kept. "Here," you tossed the orange bottle at him, pills rattling like a decaying maraca. "I haven't used 'em all, and you could use one. Maybe two..."
"You still have these?" He asked in shock, shaking the container with a white, child-lock lid.
"I used most on the trip out here," you admitted, getting started on making a kettle of tea. "Wasn't easy... We lost 3/4ths of our group before we even got here."
Joel nodded, "I've seen some things."
"You and me, both, partner," you sighed, handing him some water. "Take one pill now, it'll help your chest."
"Why... Why does it feel like that?"
You paused, nodding at him, "Trauma has a way of keeping its grip on us, squeezing at inconvenient times. 'S not like there's psychiatrists out here, so, that's what I've got to help the pain..."
"It's not enough," Joel whispered, taking the single Xanax pill.
"Nothing ever will be," you eased. "Loss is exactly that, something we've lost. Something missed because loss means no more, to no longer have. Something we mourn because pain demands to be felt. And if we ignore it for long enough, sometimes, it'll build and build and build until it plugs our hearts up with grief."
"Hm."
You dressed the mugs of tea, telling him, "Not talkin' about it doesn't do what you think. We're all human, and one of the things that makes us human is our ability to empathize. Our ability to share stories and emotions and then to understand each other's pain. Look," you set the tea before him, moving for the loveseat in the next room before the fire, "you can put yourself in an early grave from stress or you can take a chance and try to heal yourself. Guilt will only weigh you down, and right now, it's sink or swim, darlin'."
Joel took the seat beside you, sighing, "Who did you lose?"
"Who didn't I lose?" You whispered back. "More than half my family didn't survive Outbreak Day and those who did, didn't last past 3 years. They're all gone, and some of them are gone by my negligence." You sighed and reached between the cushions for a flask, pouring just a hint of whiskey in your mug before doing the same to Joel's.
"What do you mean?"
"My baby sister was under my care and... And she got..." You sighed, shrugging, "Perhaps it's easier giving advice than taking it."
Joel's hand slowly reached out to brush against yours, hearing him whisper, "You don't have to tell me."
You sighed, taking his hand and leaning back into the cushion. "Moral of the story, Joel? It's a cruel world we live in, but you're not alone. You don't have to be ever again... And maybe, you can start working on how to process and let go of your guilt."
It was quiet for three long minutes, only the crackling of logs in the fire and slurping of tea was heard.
"Have you filtered yours?"
"A bit."
"Is that why you have nightmares, too?"
Your head snapped to look at Joel, who sighed, "I can hear your thoughts, kid, when you dream. When you're upset..."
"Just like you do, only... You now dream of both your daughters, don't you?"
"Ellie's not mine - "
"No, but you're responsible for her," you eased. "And now you fear failing her, as you feel you did Sarah, right?" Joel stared at you, but you squeezed his warm hand. "We both have lost much, Joel, and this world really fucked us over... But there's a choice that only we can make about working through our fears, doing better by those who we've lost in the past."
Joel sighed, "Can't believe it."
"Hmm?"
"Sittin' here," he mused, "before a fire, fuckin' tea in hand - with my other hand in yours... No, didn't think this was going to be a thing ever again."
"Hmm?"
"Feelin'... Safe."
You nodded, "Feeling's mutual."
"Hey, uh... How'd you know? That I was having that little episode - "
"It's called an anxiety attack and yes, they're different than a panic attack," you shrugged. "And, well... Do I have to explain it to you, or do you understand why we can hear each other's thoughts?"
"No, I, uh, I get what it means..."
"Then you know, when you feel in-trouble, I can hear you. So, something felt off, and luckily, I trusted my intuition."
Joel nodded, "Yeah... Lucky me."
"Do you make it a conscious effort to always sound like an asshole or is that just... How you are?"
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The first time learning what he tastes like was after he came to you for comfort when he was heavily grieving his daughter after yelling at Ellie earlier. You frowned when you saw him, waving him into your house, and again, offering him a single anti-anxiety pill with a mug of room-temp tea.
You asked what happened, and he couldn't find the words. So, he let his guard down and allowed you to freely roam his thoughts as his anxiety still pumped him with adrenaline. You frowned at what he showed you glimpses of, frowning when you heard Joel telling Ellie that she was right, she wasn't his daughter...
"Joel?"
"Hmm?"
"Think you've got a decision to make."
"What're my choices?"
"Live and let live, letting go of the past, or... Let it kill you."
His eyes cut over to yours, "How'd you do it?"
"Hmm?"
"Live and let live, or whatever the fuck."
"If it were easy, everyone would do it," you admitted. "It took time. There's only so much a person can endure before they break, but instead of shattering, I simply leaked. I let my trauma leak by depending on others - not for anything other than human companionship. Your brother? He helped me a lot... He's a good man."
"He is."
"Doesn't mean you aren't. There's little use in comparing your life to others... It's not fair. It's never fair. But you have a choice on accepting the past and trying to heal or letting guilt consume you. That pain in your chest? Feelin' like you can't breathe? Feelin' like your heart is breaking all over again in your chest? That's you bein' consumed, but if you don't like it, you can make a decision about it."
He paused, the effects of the Xanax slowly taking affect as he didn't have much on his stomach and the pill seeped into his blood stream much faster. Then, Joel told you, "It's been hard."
"Doing what?"
"Takin' care of the girl - "
"She's got a name."
Joel nodded, "All right, yeah, Ellie. Taking care of Ellie just feels... Wrong."
"Because Sarah was the same age?"
He stiffened, "Don't - "
"You might wanna get used to the idea that I know about you," you sighed. "It's not his fault, but Tommy told me what happened... He needed a friend as much as I did, and he told me what happened. I can understand how much anxiety this generates for you, taking charge of a child the same age as your daughter when she died. I can understand why this would hurt you, but let me remind you, this ain't on the kids. They didn't do nothing. You think Ellie wanted to be born to help save the world?"
"Tommy tell you - "
"No, you forget, we live in each other's heads," you sighed. "I could hear you guys when your friend got bit..."
"Right."
"This isn't on anyone, Joel. You've reason to be apprehensive but I'm sorry to say, this can't be about you right now. This needs to be about Ellie... And from what it sounds like, she only trusts you and is used to everyone she loves leaving her. Don't give her more reason to hate this world and other people," you frowned. "She's been through enough, don't you think? Trust isn't given, it's earned, and we know if she was with Tommy, either could get hurt because neither trusts the other. You, on the other hand? She won't hesitate to listen and work in tandem with you. You might think letting her go with Tommy is saving her, it's the best and safest option, but she'll be scared shitless without you."
Joel sighed, "Guess since you know my mind so well, I should listen to you, huh?"
"Knowing you, you're still gonna do what'cha want," you eased with a shrug. "Just, one last thing?" He nodded. "Children shouldn't bear the sins of their fathers."
Joel stared at you for a long moment, then nodded sadly. "Think you might be right."
"There's no shame in fear, Joel," you reminded softly. "Whether you're 60 or 16, fear is a universal language we all speak. Especially now."
Joel slowly stood to his feet, "I should go. You probably had plans."
"Oh, yeah, for sure, big plans of sleeping," you teased, standing to face him. "You're welcome to stay."
"I should get back... Got a lot of thinkin' to do."
"All right, well, find me later. I work the morning and afternoon shift at the stable tomorrow."
He nodded slowly, looking between your eyes for a moment. "So... We can hear each other's thoughts?"
"Bit annoyin' when you're tryna work or eat or something and there's just a voice in your head. I learned to control it so that you come in my sleep. I like the ability to focus on you."
He breathed a long sigh, "I gotta admit, it's a comfort to me now. So, it's when we're stressed?"
"Sorta. Big, negative emotions can trigger our connection. It's only because soulmates want to protect each other, so, when apart, they hear emotions of stress, turmoil, anxiety... Adrenaline."
"So, if we're together, we won't hear each other's thoughts?"
"No," you smiled softly, "according to my mother, even if standing beside each other, mates will still hear each other. The goal is, however, to simply be at peace together and avoid stressful situations."
Joel frowned, "Why'd it take so long? To hear you?"
"The Connection between our thoughts aren't solidified until we're both 30. We would've had to meet in order for our thoughts to clash, and, uh, we did right before I left the Boston QZ. We were always destined to come back together, we just had to help each other get to where we needed."
Joel simply stared down at you, then, he nodded slowly, "So, soulmates, huh?"
"If you believe in such a thing."
"Can I try something?"
"That sounds suspicious..."
"It won't hurt."
"You don't sound reassuring at all."
"Just," he paused, sighing, "hold still."
"Oh," you understood, letting your eyes slid shut as his dominant calloused hand rose to hold your cheek. A moment later, his lips were pressed to yours - feeling chapped and raw from the blistering elements. However, when he stumbled through the motions, you took the lead to help him gain his pacing. Joel, by every means, wasn't a very good kisser but that was due to years of inactivity.
He sighed when your tongues swept over one another, deepening the kiss and forcing you two closer together. He tasted a little stale, maybe even with a fleeting taste of that evening's stew. But like his scent, Joel also had a taste that was all his meant only for you to identify. So far, it was a unique taste.
Was it... Pine?
Was it charcoal?
No, no... Could it be chocolate?
Hmm, now that you focused, you could distinguish the bolts of cocoa off his tongue. However, Joel thought the opposite and tasted a hint of raspberry on yours. The kiss was slow, a bit awkward, almost like two teens trying to figure out how to convey their excitement; but then, it turned even-tempoed.
It turned pleasant.
It turned almost exhilarating.
Perhaps it was because you were finally kissing someone or maybe it was because you were kissing your soulmate, Joel Miller. Whatever the reason, the kiss that started weak and turned pleasant soon became passionate and swelteringly hot.
His hands were in your hair, around your cheeks, down to hold your hips and waist, before circling around your waist to pull you in flush - but never disconnected the kiss. You, on the other hand, liked to keep hold of his neck and shoulders, just running your hands around his flesh before tugging on the short strands of hair at the base of his skull. Joel moaned into your mouth, so, you did it again.
"All right," he grit, pulling back, "you keep playin' with fire, girl, and you're gonna get burned."
"Look where we are... Think some heat would do us good."
He sighed, "I can't... Not tonight, not when... Not when she's leaving in the morning."
"Don't you mean, 'we'?"
"Hmm?"
You chuckled, "You meant to say, 'Not when we are leaving in the morning,' right?"
Joel sighed, "I gotta think - "
"I'm in your head, Joel," you whispered, "and I know you already made up your mind. You wouldn't ever actually leave her on her own."
He frowned, eyes darting back and forth between yours. Then, he whispered, "Think I could come back and see you? After all this?"
You nodded, "I'll be here."
Joel sighed, hands squeezing yours before turning and swiftly vacating your house. Like a girl in a '90s sitcom, your fingers toyed with your bottom lip as a grin stretched - and you giggled to yourself. Yeah, you fucking giggled - like you had some kind of crush! You knew you did, but this wasn't just a crush. Joel was your soulmate, and you had finally found him; not willing to let him go, but knowing there was a greater purpose than finding someone to live your life with. Case in point? Ellie - who needed Joel more than you right now.
You calmed your fluttering heart and got to bed, giddy for the morrow. When you got to the stables, nobody was there, so, you started on your chores. Not 20 minutes later, Joel showed up with a pack, and you chuckled before pointing out the horse he could use.
But before, Joel stepped up to you to offer a searing kiss to your lips before getting started on grooming the bay mount he would use. Only, this time? Your smile was impossible to hide, especially when Tommy and Ellie arrived to find their own horses for their journey. Tommy tossed his arm around your shoulders, the two of you chuckling as you thought how, despite her DNA, this feral little fucker was most definitely a copy of Joel.
Everyone seemed to see it but those two.
"Think they'll come back?"
Tommy sighed, watching the two ride off through the commune to approach the front gate. "They better," he muttered, giving to O-K to let the single horse carrying two passenger out of the fort and into the wilderness. "They better fuckin' come back," Tommy whispered with a frown.
"He'll look after her."
"Like you'll look after him," he nodded down at you, and together, you both turned back into the small town of Jackson in order to get morning chores done - after taste of mocha still left in your mouth.
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requesting rules and masterlist
TLOU masterlist
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buzzybee3 · 4 months ago
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I’ve been on a trip in Mexico. I now have ideas for a chapter. Might just rearrange it for keeping it cleaner but just- the bois-
This is very long. Encapsulated two weeks of my life. Read at your own risk.
(Tw for almost throwing up. Fish carcass. (Unrelated) And a few other questionable but not really things.)
Greenhouse au ideas
•Going to Guadalajara. Also reader has larger family/ is traveling with a large group for the first half. And yes they are technically Hispanic. Or in non Hispanic terms, you passed Spanish class.
- On the first day you buy a bracelet because it reminds you of sun and he is ecstatic. Later you buys one that reminds you of moon.
- There is a swimming pool that is see through so it looks like an aquarium tank.
- You swim there with family/group. Boys watch and have fun. (100% dressed in the outfits sun-e-chips made for their waterspark au) You pretend to be a mermaid. Sorta. You raced some people one on one and lucky you, you won like 50% of the time! Almost drowned at some point but you tried to make sure the boys didn’t realize. They did. That was a fun night. (No it wasn’t)
- The next day you buy a cowboy hat, a leather belt, some leather boots, and a phone holder to attach to the belt, also made of leather. Sun had a field day with that. And then bought all the same things to match, and you love it.
- they go to the beach and you swim in the waves. That day you end up only spending half of the day in the water. When the sun goes down there’s a thunderstorm and sun almost dies trying to get your attention to get you out of the water (yes he is sorta water resistant but he got scared for your safety and you were relaxing too much.
- The next day you all end up going to crab island. The water is clear there and you swim for a few minutes but you hate it because there are a ton of crabs.
- When you go back to the beach you end up brushing along something, it happens a lot, so you pick it up to see what it is and it’s a fish carcass, half of it at least. The tail. 30 minutes later your sister/close female friend finds the exact same carcass.
- It’s horrifying. You end up staying in the water until sundown.
- They go to Islan del Río Nayarit and climb cristo Rey (you die lmao)
- There’s a kid on the way up in one of the houses. Your mom/some older women, asks if he can help them the way up. He says ‘if you don’t kidnap me I’ll help you!’
- This makes you and sun laugh because no one here has need for more or any kids.
- There are a ton of cats.
- (The climb back down they are very worried because your legs are shaky. Shouldn’t have tried to show off your strength climbing a mountain, Jesus.)
- On the trip from cristo Rey to tequila they are trapped in the car for hours but the air is fine. They are in a giant bus/car thing. It fits 19 people not including the driver, plus all of their suitcases so there’s a good amount of space.
- Los dos carnales by el envidioso plays in the background while you start to focus on what’s happening. Around the end of the song someone make it louder so it feels like the intro to a movie. The three of you (you, sun and moon) joke about that.
- We move to a different bus but forget to say bye to the og driver.
- You thinks about him (no not og driver. He will be revealed later in the story) But are reminded that you have sun and moon now. And are happy. Because there are no seatbelts you sit with the boys. They are your seatbelt.
- For the last 9 days they stay at European lifestyle hotel, there are three separate rooms but sun/moon charge in your room for the nights. Cosy.
- They go to ride horses on the third day at the hotel. In Guadalajara in a park with a castle and Japanese gardens called bosque los Colomos.
- The next day you go to Ahihi and Chapala, and buy a moonchim that reminds you of moon with elephants on it.
- In Tonalá you finds a giant fan for only 75 pesos and manage to barter it slightly to make it 70. Its huge. You are very elated.
- In San Juan de Dios, there are tons of artisan shops. Sun finds an apron of loteria that says ‘El Sol’ and buys it without a second thought.
- In same location: man comes up to their group, asking if they want a phone charger that does massages. Goes to the first person (dad/older man in the group) and places it on his shoulder/ back and then the second person too (little brother or Gregory) before getting to you and retracting his arm. Maybe it was your glare or sun’s ‘touch her if you dare look’ but something deterred him.
- Later on in the day everyone goes to the center of Guadalajara and some women does the same thing but they get to you first. Sun is enraged because it makes you scared (you jump and are very embarrassed) and he knows you don’t like touch that you don’t expect. But he manages to smile at the women and tell her ‘we don’t need any’. Mutters afterwards that he’s plenty good at massaging. It makes you laugh (but he’s being serious).
- You sees a dress shop that will make a custom dress for her while on their walk. You really want it but alas it’s around 750 US dollars and therefore too much for you to pay for. Sun and moon are really touchy the next few hours, hugging your waist and sometimes it’s funny or weird for some reason, your hips or even your chest but you don’t think too much on it. They disappear for a few minutes (almost a good hour) the next day while your group is at the the Guadalajara center again. (They are planning something).
- You find a fruit cupshop while they are gone and buy some mangos. Best damn mangos you’ve ever eaten.
- Later of the day of the first disappearance, your group goes to Tlaquepaque (sun and moon are not left behind). When taking a photo in front of the sign you laugh softly because of a kid who is messing around and ask him is he’s taking the photo with you guys. The kid runs and both you and sun laugh. While taking the photo you both stand next to the A because it has sun and moon decals yippee.
- Same day you do the shock game with your family and sun is horrified that humans do this for fun. You enjoy yourself, and get very shocked. You make it to level 5 in the group one but then you go by yourself and it’s much… much worse. You still make it to 5 but you can’t move your arms and sun is still very worried for your safety and also notes, sort of, that you have a lack of self preservation skills.
- The next day they go to Mazamitla. You go to pet tigers and do tons of crazy things like:
- Sun thinks you’re crazy. Notes that you 100% have lack of self preservation skills.
- You guys are in a very precarious van. It’s taking you on this tour. Seats held up by rope and very dirty. You have fun with all the giant divits in the ground as the rickety bus drives. You think it’s very entertaining. Sun is once again horrified. (Even more notes for lack of self preservation)
- Then you go on a zip line while there’s rain. Sun is not happy and goes in the car with you guys. Wearing a coat of course. The truck is rickety and worse, you and everyone else going on the zipline are in the trunk. You meet some very nice, very funny people(Sun is not amused by them) Sofia-Sofie 15, Miguel-migi 17, Viviana-Vivi 17, Alya-Aly 15, and two others who you don’t get the names of but they are both 27 years old.
- (Yes I met these randos in the trunk car ride up the mountain in freezing cold pelting rain. Nothing was gonna stop me from going on that zipline.)
- At some point the rain gets so bad that you all have to wait inside the car smooshed together. Very interesting and smelly but you manage to make it up the mountains by foot to the zip lines.
- The first one is slower, you get more of a view. Holding onto the rope that is attached to you. You almost miss catching the persons hand at the end and almost get stuck further away, when sun arrives (because of course he had to get on now that it was raining) he insists on going first on the second one. The second one goes so fast it sounds like a helicopter. You get specific instructions to hold on to the metal and hang with your legs facing as forward as possible. You get scared and focus more on getting the signal ti let go of the metal, that you miss seeing everything. You see sun at the end though. Very clear yellow against the dark green background.
- When you make it to the end Sun catches you by the waist, holding onto the precarious stairs/platform up in the trees instead of taking your hand, insisting that he didn’t want you to get stuck again.
- Very embarrassing for you yes (and also you blush but we ain’t talking about that) but his mechanical heart was in the right place. He helps you down by sort of lifting you and hurriedly taking your helmet off, knowing that you were gonna be late for your ride, the poorly held together bus. Staying inside of the truck sorta made you behind because it was raining so much.
- You take off the harness as fast as possible. A 4 year old being the one to take your things. It’s a surprise but you follow her instruction and within the minute, sun is carrying you slightly towards the bus. (He doesn’t want you stepping in mud, such a gentleman)
- When you reach the bus, it has a tarp over the windows to protect people from the harsh rain.
- The bus driver sings songs all the way down the mountain which sun, and you, are concerned about because he was also driving.
- He sings 3 songs, very nicely might you add, you wonder why he’s a bus driver. Sun sings to some, obviously accessing the internet to do so and somehow sings in Spanish… (he was fishing for compliments 100% because he didn’t like that you were complimenting the driver so much)
- When you guys get off the bus it’s pouring so hard you can’t go anywhere. You enter Mia’s boutique to get a better sweater, because yours is not meant for rain. You end up just getting a poncho but sun gets one too. You joke about him riding horses now will make him look like an actual cowboy.
- You eat at a random restaurant, ordering a beef hamburger with fries and sit at a two seater with Sun. You eat your fries first happily, and start to drink your lemonade before taking a bite of your hamburger and making a face before setting it down. Getting embarrassed you tell sun you’d rather not eat it because it tasted really strange. Sun scans it and says it’s a mix of pork and beef apparently. Great.
- You go to get a crepe instead. Enjoying it despite the overtly sweet strawberry tinge flavoring. You asked for chocolate… oh well.
- As you eat it you slowly have a harder time swallowing being the flavor is just not agreeing with your taste buds.
- By your last big bite you almost throw up. The bile rises through your throat as you desperately try to keep it all in. It works but sun notices and takes you to the side. Holding you to let you sit on the bench without getting wet (because of the rain) and talks to you about stuff.
- He asks why you tried to finish it even if you knew you didn’t like the flavor. You refrain from telling him about how you were used to always finishing/ being forced to finish your food even if it meant throwing up, and you instead tell him It was just expensive so you didn’t want to waste money. The best lie is the truth after all and that was part of the reason you finish it.
- On the trip back to the car you trip slightly. Sun try’s to catch you even though you don’t fall and the position that leaves you in is very fun! (Once again no. Mud sucks)
- The ride back to the hotel you sleep together in the back of the car, (family/friends are driving) very relaxing 10/10 experience.
- The showers have been having issues, very hot then very cold, but at this point you are used to it.
- Next day you go on a new tour bus. First stop was to Vicente Fernandez’s ranch and pet a ton of horses and see so many new cool flowers that you 100% are adding to the greenhouse.
- Then you go to a tequila factory.
- You taste 5 separate flavors of the 7 being served. All of them you hated. White, peach, mango, coffee, and one other that you don’t remember the name of.
- You don’t feel uneasy or sick at all afterwards. Yay you’re not a lightweight go Mexican genes.
- Then you go at a nice restaurant back in Ahihi. (I don’t think I spelled it right)
- Then on a boat ride on a very questionable boat. You live, but have anxiety about sinking the whole time.
- Then you go to Chapala. You buy a sunflower cowboy hat because it reminds you of Sun.
- Then you buy another Sun related thing, a yellow jar with sand and tiny trinkets inside.
- Now you need to get two moon related things. It’s only fair of course.
- You start to run out of time.
- You don’t end up finding moon things. And see ultimately upset about that. Sun and moon were fine but you still felt really bad about that. It meant a lot to the both that you were so upset about it not being fair though.
- Then you remember you bought the moon wind chime so almost all is forgiven for yourself.
- This time on the way back you end up falling asleep so moon stays with you awake until it’s time.
- You guys end up back at Guadalajara center.
- You start going to the area with the yummy fruit and pass by a clown show. The one from the first week.
- You don’t know how you end up in the situation but one clown is waiting in front of you while everyone chants “beso! Beso”
- You end up saying ‘lo siento pero no me gustan los payasos. Prefiero los jistes.’ (Im sorry but im not into clowns, I prefer jesters)
- Sun/moon are pleased and the crowd goes ‘ahh’ disappointed
- You give sun/moon a kiss on their faceplate and the crowd goes ‘aww’ happily.
- You go buy another mango cup because it’s so yummy, and sun and moon are amused you get it from the same spot as you did only days earlier.
- Second to last day you go back to Guadalajara center and find a necklace that has a moon on it and you are ecstatic. Balance has been restored.
- You go back to the mango shop and learn that the magos they use are Kent mangos? THe most amazing mango’s you’ve ever had that’s for sure.
- Last day at your hotel you start going over everything. Everything you have gets packed into 3 suitcases and 2 duffle bags.
- Sun had a ton of stylish outfits because of course he did, the diva 😒.
- Then he presets the dress he bought. 725 US dollars. Because he knew you really wanted it. You practically cry as you hug and and thank him over and over again.
- You buy a doughnut from Krispy kream at the airport.
- The riee in the airplane is fun, it leaves at 11:30 and lands at 1:55.
- You draw the whole way back. Sun is… he finds the art to be flustering. Because you drew someone’s human sun design getting pulled into a kiss with your self insert. You thought it was funny because sun was right next to you and you wanted to mess with him.
- You almost throw up on the descent because you get dizzy for no reason. It takes 10 minutes for the nausea to go away and sun is worried the entire time.
- When you get home you hardly recognize anything but after you eat lunch you literally forget you even went on a trip.
- You shower and then sun asks if you’ll try the dress on. So you do.
- It’s perfect. The inside was comfortable and soft, and it matched the theme for your greenhouse perfectly.
- When you leave the room you go show sun he is stunned silent.
- You just found the perfect outfit for the opening of your greenhouse.
5 notes · View notes
gojhoes · 10 months ago
Text
Bleed Me Dry
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*art from nerdreamer | *divider from benkeibear
- contents: college au, no jujutsu sorcerers/cursed spirits au, jumping on the vampire au train, gojo x reader (ofc), fem!reader, characters in their early 20s, mutual pining - wc: ~4.3k
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Have you ever met someone and felt that you knew them in the past life?
You'd never much cared for religion, nor did you think much about the possibility of an afterlife. There were too many denominations for a single one to be correct. Not at all worth the millennia of wars waged in the name of someone's God. How was a god supposed to be benevolent and holy when they inspire such violence? Yes, you were a cynic through and through, remaining skeptical of all things damned and divine.
But then you met Satoru Gojo, and all that stubborn disbelief fell to pieces.
It was the weekend before the beginning of your final year of college. You'd been dragged along to some party being thrown by a friend-of-a-friend's-friend to kick off the start of the semester. Shoko, your roommate and impromptu best friend, was crushing hard on one of the boys in some club of hers, and she'd asked you to join her as moral support.
Just like the venue, the party itself was nothing special. In someone's parents' house that was already well on its way to being trashed, the room smelled of marijuana and faintly of unpleasantly scented air freshener. You recognized a few people, as the university that you attended was a rather small private technical school. Everybody seemed to know everybody even if you considered yourself an introvert.
You and Shoko found yourselves sitting around a card table with several others amid a very serious drinking game. Shoko was trying her best, but the poor girl was already three shots in while you sat back and observed.
"Aren't you going to talk to him?" you encouraged, following Shoko's line of sight until it landed on a tall blonde leaning against the wall. He was good-looking with his broad shoulders and neatly groomed hair that complemented the glasses hanging from the bridge of his nose. You could easily see why Shoko was interested in him.
"He's tall," you commented.
Shoko was beaming, her eyes practically heart-shaped while she talked about him. "He goes by Nanami- we were in the same research group last semester. And he plays rugby."
Shoko was a Microbio major carving her path to medical school. If this mystery classmate took the same courses as her, then he must've been smarter than you'd originally given him credit for.
You grinned mischievously. “Go,” you said.
She gaped at you, her brown eyes wide with fear. “I can’t!”
You pushed her bodily with your hand on her back, urging her to go to talk to this Nanami. She stumbled a bit, already tipsy, and shot you a glare.
“Go," you insisted. "I'm going to find food.”
Ignoring Shoko's frustrated groan, you trickled over to the kitchen adjacent to the living room. You couldn't deny that you were bored, but leaving simply was not an option with how obsessed Shoko was with this guy. The kitchen was void of people, but someone had mercifully left out a fruit tray that appeared untouched in comparison to the picked-over coolers of beer. Working as a bartender had diminished your cravings for the stuff, so you avoided it wholly.
Just as you turned to re-enter the living room, you slammed right into something solid, a person, and let out a yelp. Your plate fell to the ground, the carefully chosen grapes bouncing in a thousand different directions. To your dismay, a good portion of them rolled underneath the fridge, out of reach and surely to rot later.
"Shit- I'm so sorry!" you cried, ducking down to immediately retrieve your fallen mess.
The victim of your attack kneeled beside you to help, which was a kind gesture, but it only helped to embarrass you further. You glanced up to apologize again, silently regretting every choice you'd made in your life thus far.
"You didn't have to-"
But the words stopped dead in your throat. Your victim was beautiful, breathtakingly so. Crystalline blue eyes that met yours, snow white hair brushing just above matching eyebrows. Ivory skin and pink lips that looked so soft and perfect it made your mouth go dry.
And then he smiled. "It's okay- I move quietly." He dropped a grape onto the half-crushed plate in your hand while you forced yourself to rise back to your full height. He followed suit, towering over you so much that you had to tilt your head to view his face.
But it wasn’t just his striking features that threw you so much- it was the familiarity, the nostalgia that flowed through you when you properly looked at him. In the moments that followed, you were able only to stare while you tried to recall just where you'd seen him before.
"Oh," he said, plucking the plate from your grasp. He turned and reached behind him to toss it into the trash with ease. His periwinkle button-up stretched across the expanse of his shoulders as he did so. You made yourself look away.
"Um," you cleared your throat. "Thanks."
He chuckled at that and extended his hand for you to shake. You couldn’t help but to notice the delicate nature of his long, pale fingers, reminding you much of a pianist’s. Your hands connected in the briefest handshake you’d ever participated in. His touch was cold, so much so that you couldn’t help but to jerk your hand away when the skin made contact.
Your eyes flicked up to his, illuminated blue in the dim light of the kitchen. You blinked as he held your gaze steadily, unable to shake that feeling that you’d seen him before. You were aware that you were staring at this point, but you were determined to recall this man's identity.
"Satoru," he said greeting. Not familiar, you thought.
You relayed your own name before asking, "Do I know you?"
Satoru tilted his head to the side, smirking as though he was in on some joke that you wouldn’t get. “I never forget a face, and I certainly wouldn’t forget yours.”
Even though the comment made you blush, you hummed. “Smooth. But seriously, weren't you in Dr. Kusakabe's organic chem class, like, last spring?"
"I can assure you that I have never seen you before," Satoru insisted. "Are you sure you just haven't been drinking too much?"
You scoffed at the accusation, a small smile tugging at your lips from his teasing. "No, I haven't been drinking, thank you very much. Somebody's got to keep my friend alive."
You glanced back at the fruit tray and immediately thought of those stupid grapes. "Do you see a broom anywhere?"
"I'm afraid those poor grapes are forever lost," Satoru said mournfully.
You let out a melodramatic sigh, smiling a little when you met his gaze once more.
His lashes fluttered, and then you saw him stiffen as though something suddenly pained him. Small, clammy hands landed on your bare shoulders, and you started, though you knew exactly who the offender was.
“Why are you hiding from me?” Shoko whined, her words slurring.
You pried her hands from your shoulders and peered down at her. She was swaying a little and the smell of liquor on her breath was all but apparent. You suddenly remembered your forgotten promise that you’d stick with her throughout the night, feeling a little guilty at the pouty expression on her face.
“Sorry, Shoko,” you said. “I was just looking for a snack.”
Shoko noticed Satoru then, who had taken a full step away while his fingers fluttered wildly by his side. So peculiar, you thought.
"Oh-" she hiccupped. "Hiii. I didn't see that she was talking to you."
Satoru didn’t reach out to shake her hand, you noticed, opting only to nod his head in greeting as he smiled in a way that didn't quite reach his eyes.
“No trouble,” he said fluidly. He then fixated his gaze back to yours, “If you’ll excuse me.”
He stepped out of the kitchen, and at least Shoko waited until he'd walked away to ask, "who was that?"
You shook your head as you watched him disappear into the throng of people scattered about the living room, stopping only when his white locks were no longer visible.
"Satoru."
The next week was spent with thoughts of Satoru scratching at the back of your head. During study breaks, you’d rack your brain trying to figure out where the fuck you knew him from. You were sure that you’d met him in the past; maybe he had been an elementary classmate? Maybe he worked at one of the local grocery stores or the café down the street? The possibilities were endless, but still, the mental search persisted. He even appeared in your dream the very night of the party, standing tall and fair with his back toward you.
Friday night was arguably the busiest at the bar. It was a flurry of drink orders, checking IDs, and straining to hear customers over the cacophony of voices. But you preferred the busy evening shifts– the bustle made the time fly. And it occupied your mind in a way that kept you from thinking about everything else, at least temporarily.
But after the last call for alcohol, a lull finally fell into place, and you began with your housekeeping tasks. Small things such as wiping down the bar and prepping garnishes and the like. Mentally, you’d already clocked out and were at home watching the new episode of your favorite anime. You were distracted, not all the way present, and you had your back to the bar. That’s why you were startled when you turned around to see that Satoru had materialized on the other side.
You flinched and your eyes went wide as your hand flew to your chest as if to steady yourself. “Oh sh– hey, it’s you! You scared me.”
Satoru raised his hands and grinned wickedly. “Boo.”
Never mind that he hadn’t been anywhere near the bar in the five seconds it’d taken you to do a 360. But your heart rate returned to normal, and you drank in his appearance. Still gorgeous, even in the bar’s poor lighting. He wore a collarless black sweater with sleeves that were too long even for him, and a pair of gray slacks. The neutral tones made his blue eyes appear even brighter, seeming almost to glow.
“Aren’t you going to order something?” you asked teasingly. “It’s past last call, but I’m sure I can make an exception.”
Satoru purred, maintaining that wicked smile from before. “You’re too kind to me.”
“Please, I insist.” You cupped your hands around your mouth and leaned over the bar so that your fingers just barely were brushing the shell of his ear.
“It’s on the house,” you faux-whispered, trying to ignore the way his hair tickled your skin for the briefest of moments before you pulled away.
He swallowed, the first sign of hesitation you’d seen since meeting him. Not that you knew him well, but he otherwise moved so confidently and with such intention that the gesture seemed out of place on him.
“I’m afraid I don’t drink.”
“I can make you something virgin,” you urged, wiggling your eyebrows. You were being unnecessarily insistent, pushing a little hard, but you felt this inexplicable urge to impress him. To serve him...? It was your job, after all, to make drinks that people would enjoy.
And then he replied, his voice firm but not unkind, “I have to decline, but I deeply appreciate your offer.”
You sighed and made a point of overdramatizing your disappointment. “Some other time, then. I’ll get you something good to drink, just you wait.”
An unnamable expression flashed over his features, quickly replaced by another disarming smile. You weren’t sure if it was the dim lighting of the bar, but his pallor seemed more translucent than before, the color blending in with his pale hair. His eyes were nearly glowing, nearly burning and you found yourself trying to differentiate all the shades of blue within his irises before he cleared his throat, and you realized you had been staring.
“Sorry,” you said quickly, cursing the blush that crept high on your cheeks. “I just.. I swear that I’ve seen you before somewhere. It’s kind of driving me crazy.”
Satoru tilted his head in question, a mannerism of his that you’d picked up on. “Is that right?”
Okay, you were definitely into this guy, no doubt about it. How could you not be? He was insanely, unfairly attractive, and though you’d just met (SUPPOSEDLY), you couldn’t help but to feel that you were connected to him in some way. That was a scary thought, one you shoved down before it could fester along with your other delusions.
The bar where you worked was close to campus and being part of a chain, its main demographic for business was students. It was a simple coincidence for Satoru to be there. Maybe that’s where you knew him from- it wasn’t a total impossibility; you'd served thousands of people since starting there.
“When are you off?”
You glanced down at the small watch face adorning your wrist, pretending to squint as anxiety slithered into your gut. Guys had asked you that same question in the past after mistaking good bartending for flirting. Satoru was charming, but he was still a stranger, and it was already well past 2am. But something about him pulled trust out of you like it was nothing. Like he was luring you in, a moth drawn to a flame.
“30 minutes,” you replied truthfully. “Maybe longer, depending on the crowd.”
"I want to take you to a cafe down the street," he said. "It's open all night, and I'm sure you must be starving after such a long shift."
Your stomach tattled on you before you got the chance to respond, growling loudly at the prospect of eating- you'd neglected to do so before coming in almost eight hours ago.
“I couldn't impose-”
He smiled at you as your words trailed off, and that voice in your head telling you to be careful was far too distant as you felt your resolve falter. “I insist.”
So at exactly three o'clock, standing with his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the wall was Satoru. He lifted his head when he heard the door open, smiling once he realized that it was you. You'd be a fool to deny how pretty he was when he looked at you like that.
“Shall we?” you said once you were standing at his side.
“Of course. It’s only a block or two.”
You turned to your right, moving to take the first step of many, when a large hand wrapped itself around your wrist. It couldn't have been colder than 60 degrees Fahrenheit, but even through your sleeve, you could feel the frigid cold of his fingers. You gasped at the sudden touch, flicking your eyes up to his, which were likely wide with alarm.
“Ah, ah,” Satoru said, releasing you from his grasp. “This way.”
You tried not to let show how freaked out that made you, blaming it on how quickly he’d moved to stop you. But he carried on nonchalantly as though it was something he did with everyone- perhaps, he did, if you thought about it. You focused only on following him dutifully and nothing else as he led the way.
"Do you always work nights?" he asked, breaking through the buzz of your overthinking.
You nodded, grateful for him breaking the silence. "My roommate says I'm crazy, but I prefer it. I take classes in the evenings, too, so I'm usually sleeping during the day."
Satoru held the door for you, gesturing widely as you passed over the threshold. You plucked a menu from the pocket by the door, vaguely recognizing the restaurant's logo; it was a simplified portrait of a dryad.
“Oh!” you exclaimed. “I feel like I’ve been here before. Maybe in high school…”
Satoru chuckled. “It’s only been open for about a year. Maybe you should get those false memories checked out.”
"Ha-ha."
You could feel his eyes on the back of your head like two pinpricks of ultraviolet light as you escorted yourself to an open table. He slid gracefully into the booth across from you, folding his legs in a way that couldn't be comfortable under the too-short table. You laid the menu flat as you peered over it.
"What's good here?" you asked.
Swiftly, he replied, "Everything. Plus, you can never go wrong with chicken tenders."
"This is true."
You decided on a ham and Emmental baguette and a glass of cherry juice -they actually had it!-, opting to keep it simple. You noticed that Satoru hadn't grabbed a menu himself, but thought better than to comment on it. Besides, who were you to pry into the specifics of someone else's eating habits?
You slipped the straw dipped in your drink between two fingers, toying with it nervously. "So, what year are you?"
"Ah, I just graduated," Satoru replied, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "And you're a senior, right?"
Your eyebrows knit together as you tilted your head to the side just slightly. "How'd you know?"
Satoru didn't miss a beat. "You had that look about you at the party. And since you're old enough to bartend, I filled in the blanks."
When he put it that way, the logic seemed sound enough for you to safely dismiss it without a second thought.
"Quite the sleuth, are you?" you teased.
Satoru chuckled breathily. Before either of you could ask any more questions, your food magically appeared before you. Neither of you had indicated that this was a date, but you still wanted to at least try and appear well-mannered, so you ignored the urge to fall upon the sandwich.
"Are you sure you don't want some?" you asked, holding the half out to him.
Satoru raised a hand. "No, thank you, I ate not too long ago. Please, go on."
"I just feel bad."
But you figured it would be more rude to continue pestering him, so you decided just to suck it up and eat. You were starving anyway. You sunk your teeth into the sandwich, but you misjudged the force necessary to bite through the thick bread. Sharp pain lanced through your tongue and a familiar tanginess flooded your mouth.
"Fuck," you muttered. "Bit my tongue."
As politely as you could, you brought a napkin to your mouth and spit into it before folding it neatly to hide the blood. “Sorry.”
Satoru's eyes had grown wide as he stared down at the napkin. A muscle twitched in his jaw, and you suddenly grew more embarrassed. Had you really grossed him out that much? It was just a little blood and it wasn't exactly a Michelin star restaurant.
But as though you imagined it, that discomfort morphed into a smile so radiant you forgot he'd been unsettled in the first place. The bleeding stopped, thankfully, and you slowly but steadily made your way through the sandwich. While you ate, you and Satoru passed questions and answers back and forth like a badminton game.
He'd declined your offer to make him a drink and was refusing to eat anything now, but you thought little of it until you watched as he took the smallest sip from his glass of water. He made a face as though it tasted utterly foul. It was city water, after all, but he looked physically unwell after setting the glass back on the table.
“Are you okay?” you asked. “You look a little pale.”
He shook his head, making the stands of his white hair bounce comically. “Just tired. I didn’t expect to be out so late.”
You couldn’t deny the little stab of disappointment that shot through you, though your watch did read a quarter-to-four. Sure, you were off tomorrow, but that didn't mean that Satoru wasn't.
“Oh,” you said. “Well, I’m ready anytime, then.”
The second you place your dishes at the end of the table, Satoru sprung out of his spot in the booth and started for the door. His height must've been the reason he moved so fast, and you had to scramble out of the booth and run to catch up with him. You grabbed your coat from the rack and shrugged it on before following him through the door.
You turned to look at Satoru to somehow gauge the state of his wellbeing, only to catch him staring at you with stormy eyes and parted lips. Weren't you going to ask him something? But then he blinked away the intensity you'd seen, a placid expression replacing it instantly.
“One second," Satoru quickly added. “Wait here.”
He bolted back inside like a bullet from a gun, furiously jangling the bunch of bells that hung above the inside of the door. So, you waited, poking your head through the window to see just what he was doing. He was standing over the table where you'd both been seated just a minute before, but you couldn't see much more than that. He must've forgotten something, or maybe he just wanted to give his compliments to the chef- or something.
"Forgot my wallet," he said in explanation once he'd joined you at your spot by the curb. You nodded as he confirmed your first theory.
Satoru had both of his hands shoved into his pockets precariously as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. It seemed childish at first, but that quickly turned to endearment when you realized that he was nervous. "Would you want to do this again sometime?"
You smiled at him, touched by how sweetly he'd worded the question. You reached out to touch him in some way so he knew your next words were sincere, but he stood in a way that would've made it painfully awkward to do so, so you let your arm fall limp at your side.
"If you ever want to grab a bite, I'll be awake." you answered before the two of you parted ways for good.
All you knew was that you wanted to see him again, wanted to see this strange man you'd met by chance and break past his walls and excessive smiles. And you wanted him to tell you where you'd seen him before- maybe you were delusional, but you had an inkling that he knew exactly what you'd been talking about.
What you didn't know was that Satoru had followed you for the entirety of your walk home, slipping in and out of the shadows as he debated whether to reach for you. Sitting across from you in the booth had been torturous, especially once you'd bitten your tongue. The napkin that now sat in his pocket seemed to burn a hole straight through to the bone. Any of your blood would have long since dried, but it was yours, and for now, it would have to do.
His hand hovered over the doorknob- hadn't anyone taught you to always lock your door? He heard you shuffling around inside, the clinking of drinking glasses and silverware being put away. The mundanity of you tidying your kitchen was a slap in his face. You were still living, still warm-bodied and radiant. Not cursed, as he was, with a full life ahead of you that would end peacefully. There would come a day when you would close your eyes and they would not again open. It would be completely and utterly selfish of him to do something as stupid as tampering with something as precious as your life.
But the urge persisted, as it had for months, inspiring the most selfish ideals he’d ever before been plagued with. And that selfishness was what made him believe that he truly was a monster deserving of his fate. That selfishness made him into who he was.
If he'd never seen you that night just a few short months before, he would've long since left this forsaken city. He wouldn't be trapped here by the longing he felt for you. He wouldn't be such a damned mess, going to parties and putting himself directly into situations he should be avoiding at all costs. All the lies and the hiding started to add up after a while; soon he’d be so deeply intwined in a wreck of a story that would be too much to keep up with. He’d slip up eventually; he always did.
The party had been the absolute last straw. Suguru had advised him not to go, but Satoru was a social creature, and he still enjoyed bantering and foolishness as he had during his waking life. And as was commonplace as of late, anywhere you went, so would Satoru, because that's just the type he was.
He had not planned on getting as close as he did though. Quite literally, you’d been on top of him even if it was for only a second. But it had been enough to break through the delicate semblance of control he’d had hanging by a thread. The sheer pleasure he got from your scent alone was something he’d learned he needed; it was more than a want. Even now, the bits of you he could pick up on through the door had some kind of trancelike effect on him.
But as Satoru turned his back to your apartment, fists clenched by his sides from the sheer amount of effort it took, he admitted to himself that Suguru had been right. He shouldn't have gone, because it sealed the fact that his every moment would be consumed by thoughts of you.
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Confession: I ship Shoko and Nanami SO HARD. They're both water signs, too. I love symbolism and foreshadowing more than anything else in this world.
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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years ago
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Our Good Girl ~ KNJ & KSJ [M] [Request]
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WORD COUNT: 4.4K
PAIRING: Seokjin x Fem!Reader x Namjoon 
WARNINGS: degradation, humiliation(maybe not so much), breeding kink, aftercare, swearing, smut, from fluff to hard smut. Dom Jin, Dom Namjoon, Sub Reader, unprotected sex [wrap it before you tap it] birth control, cum play, thigh riding, “good girl”, pet names, spanking/slapping of breasts and cheeks all consenual, 
GENRE: Non!Idol!AU, Poly, SMUT, established relationship, aftercare, rough.
DON’T READ IF YOU’RE UNDERAGE.
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The restaurant you were sitting in was loud since it was packed full of people, luckily for you and your boyfriends, you were in a booth on your own secluded away from everyone. Also lucky for the boys, they weren't the best at controlling how jealous they got of people around you and tonight you looked especially good. A custom-fitted black dress that clung to your body perfectly, showing off all of your favourite aspects about yourself as well as the boys favourite parts about you as well without being too revealing. 
"I made sure to book months in advance," Namjoon chuckled as he poured you another glass of champagne while Jin anxiously bounced his leg up and down on the spot. This was your favourite place because of how pretty it was inside. The interior of it was decorated to look as though it was inside of a fairytale-like forest and there were fairy lights all over the ceiling to look like stars. The three of you had gone out for your birthday tonight despite your best efforts in telling them that you would have been fine staying at home with take-out food and a movie. They wanted to do something special for you, something that would be meaningful to you. It wasn't often that you got to get all dressed up like the way you were tonight and do what they were going to offer to you. The three of you had been together for almost four years and it had been one of the best relationships of your life, while many people didn't understand why you were with the both of them and not just one you ignored them. 
"We got you some presents princess," Jin said as he looked at you, he didn't want to give the presents here but Namjoon insisted that it would be more special to give the three presents here. Jin slid the bright pink bag over to you on the table and smiles, as anxious as he was he couldn't wait to see your eyes light up when you realised what would be happening later that night. 
"Start with the smaller box," Namjoon suggested as he could see you trying to process which of the boxes to open first as you looked inside the bag. It wasn't often that you would except gifts from either of them as you hated people spending money on you but it was a special occasion. 
"I told you that you didn't have to get me anything," You whined out as you took the smallest box from the bag and saw that it was from Jin, 
"Technically the third present is for all of us," Jin smirked as he watched you opening the smallest box, 
"What's the third present?" You questioned as you ripped the wrapping paper off from the small box to reveal a navy blue velvet box inside but Jin and Namjoon hummed at you wanting you to open the first ones before you thought about the last one. Sensing you weren't going to get told anything you opened the velvet box to see a silver bracelet laying on top of a black cushion, 
"Jin, " You gasped out as you released it was one of the bracelets you'd been admiring for weeks before this. Only there was an addition to it, along the chain there was a small silver heart with something inscribed onto it. 
"3 words, 8 letters, 1 meaning," You breathed out as you looked at it, staring at the small bracelet and back up to Jin as you let tears stream down your cheeks. 
"It's perfect," You choked out, inching closer to him so you could kiss him softly on the lips, grinning wildly as he began to blush from the small action. 
"Mine next," Namjoon chuckled as he pulled out the next box from the bag, sliding it over to you and letting you rip the wrapping paper off as you did with the previous one. Revealing yet another box similar to the previous but inside of this one was a silver necklace with his, Jin's and your initials engraved into a silver heart matching the one on the bracelet. 
"They're stunning," You breathed out as you stared at both of the items in their boxes, too scared to ever wear them with how pretty they looked but you knew the boys would want you to never take them off. 
"Guys, I don't know-"
"Open the last box kitten," Namjoon's voice was dark as he spoke to you giving a hint as to what was in the final large box in the bottom of the bag. Gulping to yourself you opened up the box, trying to ignore the fact that Jin and Namjoon were sitting close to you. Their hands were on either of your thighs as you shakily removed the box from the bag. 
"We've been thinking about this for a while princess," Jin told you as he watched you begin to rip the wrapping paper away from the box to reveal a black box behind in. 
"We know you like the thought of both of us at the same time," Namjoon whispered in your ear before biting down on your lobe making you let out a shaky moan as you lifted up the lid of the box. Inside was black lingerie set with a matching choker sitting on top, you slammed the box shut and stared at the boys with wide eyes. Your head flicking between the two of them and then around to make sure that no one had been passing your booth at the time and caught a glimpse. 
"Oh look, we made her all embarrassed," Jin smirked and you stared at him, wondering where the sudden darkness in his voice had come from. His eyes were darkened over and you could feel your body begin to heat up. 
"We know you want us both princess, we figured tonight should be the night you get what you want,"  Jin explained as you felt his hand raising higher on your thigh until it was under the skirt of your dress and just brushing against your clothes core. 
"Y-You mean-"
"A threesome, yes kitten." Namjoon finished for you as he raised his hand at the waiter so he could bring the bill over for him to pay for. The two of them hardly had a threesome with you, it wasn't that they didn't "like" it but they prefered having alone time with you but they knew how badly you wanted them together with you.
"C-Can we get home fast," You giggled as you bounced up and down in your set, biting down on your lip when Jin squeezed your thigh softly and smirked at you.
"So eager I see, you have to change into the lingerie when you're home, Princess. With the matching choker of course," Humming at him you nodded as you thought about everything that was going to happen that night. 
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After rushing home and showering quickly you changed into the babydoll lingerie that they'd gotten you, it was lace with a v-neckline and a sheer dress half making the black thong that went along with it visible to the boys. 
"Doesn't she just look perfect," Namjoon chuckled darkly as he looked at you from the bedroom door, you'd been waiting for them in the main bedroom of the house when they came up to see you. Both of them wearing their boxers as they watched you sitting on the bed waiting for them, squirming a little with anticipation which didn't go unnoticed by the boys. 
"Look at her Jin, already squirming for our Hot cum," A shiver ran down your spine from Namjoon's tone, it was rough and dark as he stared at you. Licking his lips as he watched you clench your thighs together, 
"Rubbing her thighs together as if that would bring her any satisfaction," Jin chuckled this time making a pool drip into the thong you were wearing. They stepped closer to you and Namjoon ran his fingers on the leather choker admiring his handiwork. They'd had it made custom for you. 
"Did you like the presents that we got you, kitten?" You nodded at him, knowing not to speak unless told to use your words directly by him but with Jin it was different. He wanted you to speak whenever you wanted to speak as long as he could hear you. Without a second thought, Namjoon yanked you towards the edge of the bed and spreads your legs open for him and Jin to see you. 
"Stupid piece of fabric," Jin scoffed as he ripped the thong away from your body discarding it somewhere in the room so they could see what belonged to them.
"Now tell us, Princess, who does this pretty little pussy belong to?" Jin hummed as he ran his fingers through your wet folds, humming to himself in delight when he felt just how wet you were. 
"You," You answered him breathlessly, 
"We've barely started and already you're a breathless mess, what a little slut." Namjoon smirked as he ran two fingers over your clit rubbing softly as he kept his eyes locked with yours. 
"A clever little slut though, knowing just who she belongs to." Jin corrected as he looked at you, your eyes dancing between them as you let out a small whine. Desperate for them to touch you more than they were, you'd been needy from the moment you'd opened your present at the restaurant but you knew what they were like. They liked to take their time with you when they could but you were desperate for the pleasure you knew that they were both capable of.  Namjoon pressed hard against your clit as he began to rub vigorously, you covered your mouth to stop a loud moan from escaping and he growled at you, 
"Don't hide your moans from me whore," Degradation, and humiliation was nothing new when it came to your sex life with either of them so you giggled in response to the name he called you. Already high from what you knew you were going to experience for the night.  
"Oh? Does my little princess like when Namjoon calls her a whore?" Jin questioned, turning your face to look at him roughly as Namjoon continued to rub your clit roughly. You let out a weak moan as you nodded your head, your eyes never leaving Jin's for a second as he began to rub himself through the boxers he was wearing. 
"You could probably cum just from his fingers, couldn't you? Wouldn't even need something stuffed inside that tight cunt of yours," Jin hummed as he opened your mouth pushing two fingers into it and demanding you to suck on them. 
"Just like you suck my cock princess," You smirked at him around his fingers and began to suck softly, lapping your tongue in and around his fingers while letting out small moans as Namjoon continued to bring you close to your euphoria. Your breathing began to get out of control as the pleasure began building between your legs, your head rolled back making Jin's fingers all from your lips. 
"P-Please," You begged as you panted out, rolling up your hips. 
"Please, what?" Namjoon's voice came out stern as he continued to rub your clit for you, watching the way your face contorted as you fought back the urge to cum without his permission. 
"Please, may I cum!?" The words stumbled out of your mouth as your back arched up and Namjoon rubbed faster until his fingers were soaked. 
"You're going to ride my thigh first. Show us how badly you want our cocks," He ripped his hand away from your core as you switched positon. He sat on the bed as you straddled his thigh, he flexed his muscles making you moan out as you ground down against him. 
"Look at Jin while you cum," He ordered, so you did. Locking eyes with Jin who was already rubbing his cock through the thin material of his boxers. Groaning as he watched you riding someone else's thigh, moaning out as your mouth fell open. 
"Cum all over my thigh kitten," Namjoon whispered in your ear as you continued to rock your hips on him. 
"I said cum you little slut," He growled out and as if on cue you did. You came over his thigh as your legs shook, moaning out his name as you clenched around nothing. 
"Such a mess, lick it up," Jin smirked as he noticed our cum glistening over Namjoon's thigh. You slid down onto the floor as you looked at Joon's leg, biting down on your lip as you crawled over to him. Sticking out your tongue as you began to slowly lick your cum from his thigh, whing out as you looked at them both.
"There's a good girl," Jin smirked as he got down onto his knees in front of you, running his thumb along your bottom lip and smirking as you tried to suck on it. 
"Someone is getting might desperate," He chuckled, glancing up at Namjoon to see what their next move was going to be. Namjoon nodded at him and he raised up onto his feet once again, 
"Are you going to keep being a good little slut?" Jin asked this time as he looked at you, you nodded desperately and he stepped closer to you, pushing a finger into you making you whimper out. Digging your toes into the carpet as he continued to thrust one finger into you, 
"Words," He said in a stern voice not moving his eyes from yours as you continued to let out small whines as he curled his finger up to your g-spot. 
"Yes! Yes, I'll be your good slut," You cried out as you began to squirm against his tongue. 
"Just his? What about me kitten?" Namjoon sounded condescending as he rose from the bed and looked at you, reaching down t rub your clit while Jin thrust his fingers into you. Gasping loudly you braced yourself for another orgasm, 
"B-Both. I-I'll be a good slut for both of you," You whimpered out as you continued to buck your hips but Jin's finger was pulled out of you abruptly and he smirked as he saw your legs shake. 
"Such an obedient cock whore. Desperate for both of us at the same time." Jin said as he began to kiss down your body, kissing the exposed skin of your breast through the v-neckline of the babydoll dress. 
"This dress is in the way, Namjoon, remove it," He exhaled as he dropped to his knees. So close to your core you could feel his breath on your clit as he spoke to Namjoon. The dress was lifted off your body leaving you completely exposed while they were still in some clothing. 
"Such hard nipples," Namjoon approved as he took one of your breasts into his mouth and began sucking on it while his other hand rubbed and pulled on the other. 
"You're going to stand there and beg for us while we make you feel good princess. Understood?" Jin slapped your ass making you buck your hips towards him, he smirked as he looked at you. 
"Y-Yes Jin," You breathed out moaning out as he bit down on your outer labia gently while smirking at you. Jin dove his tongue between the lips of your pussy and you yelped out, bucking against him as he continued to eat you out where you stood. 
"Look at you, shaking when Jin has only just started." Namjoon chuckled as he switched from one breast to the other, biting you wherever he could. Your hands gripped Namjoon's biceps as you tried to keep your balance, your knees shaking as Jin continued to moan against your clit.
"Cheating skank," Namjoon slapped you across your left breast and you moaned out loudly. 
"W-Wasn't cheating," You whined out as you tried to straighten your legs, looking at Namjoon who was smirking at you. 
"Maybe I should stuff that little mouth, would you like that?" Namjoon questioned as he roughly pulled on your other nipple. Your eyes grew wide at the thought of it and you nodded your head desperately. 
"You heard the little hussy Jin," Jin chuckled deeply as he did the final lapping of your pussy before pulling away and patting the floor.
"On all fours like a good little bitch," Namjoon pushed you down roughly and smirked as you let out a whine from the carpet grazing your skin. 
"Beg," Namjoon smirked as he took his cock out from his boxers and knelt in front of you. Jin was behind you as he began to drag his tongue through your folds again and dragged it down the length of your slit moaning against you. 
"S-Stuff my mouth Namjoon, please, I want your cock in my mouth." You moaned out as your body began to shake as Jin continued his actions of lapping your pussy as though it was something he'd been deprived of for months. Namjoon smirked as he ran the tip of his cock along your lips, your tongue poking out as you tried to get a taste of his precum. 
"Such a pathetic little slut," He moaned out as you managed to lick his slit moaning out from Jin's actions. 
"You're going to cum all over his tongue while you suck on my dick," He told you as he gripped onto the choker around your neck and pushed his large length into your mouth not caring if you couldn't handle it yet. Now you understood why they'd gotten you the choker. You gasped for air around his cock as he continued to fill your mouth. 
"Does this make it hard to breathe?" Namjoon quizzed with a condescending tone as he continued to slowly thrust in and out of your mouth as you gagged around him. Struggling to answer him he pulled you off him and watched as a string of saliva connected your lips to his cock,
"Y-Yes," You moaned out still feeling weak from Jin as he continued to eat you out roughly. The building of your orgasm rushing over you as you whimpered at Namjoon. 
"I think someone wants to cum, doesn't she?" Namjoon smirked as he slapped you across the cheek waiting for you to answer him. Everything was purely for your pleasure and they knew if they went too far you had safewords or taps to use if they did something you weren't ready for. 
"Y-Yes! Please let me cum!" You cried out as Jin wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you back against him. 
"Then cum all over his cum and you can make us both feel good with that mouth." Namjoon moaned out as he began to massage your saliva into his cock watching as you let out desperate moans for Jin. 
"Jin!" You mewled out as your head rolled back, filling the room with loud screams of his name until your cunt spasmed out of control. Your knees shaking as he continued to eat you out through your second orgasm of the night, humming against you as he licked you clean and then stood beside Namjoon.
Looking up at both of them you took Jin into your mouth first, gagging around him as he moaned out your name and thrust into you. 
"You do look awfully pretty when you're stuffed like this princess," Jin moaned out as he looked down at you, pulling out and pushing back into you as you gasped around his cock. Jin was the gentle one out of him and Namjoon which you felt glad for right now, it gave your throat a mini-break from Namjoons rough thrusting from before. Namjoon grunted as you reached up to begin pumping him while you took Jin in your mouth, staring into his eyes to let him know he wasn't left out during this.
"F-Fuck," Jin moaned out as he shook his head, stilling his thrusting as he pulled out of your mouth. 
"If I keep going I'll blow," He mumbled not wanting to cum in your mouth and you bit down on your lip. 
"Fill me up," You begged him shocking both Namjoon and Jin at the same time. The two of them knew of your breeding kink but they never would have expected you to bring it out while they were both here. 
"What did you say, whore?" Namjoon asked as he looked at you, stunned as he watched you lick your lips and stare at them both. 
"Want you both to fill me up," You whined as you nervously looked at them. Feeling a little vulnerable that they had this much control over you but you loved it at the same time. 
"Good girl, asking so nicely like that." Jin hummed as he walked behind you and slapped your ass cheek before grabbing onto your skin and moaning out. Jin teased your opening with the head of his cock while you tried to wiggle backwards earning another slap across the ass from him. 
"She's so desperate Jin. Pathetic little slut," Namjoon spat out as he made you look up at him, tapping the head of his cock along your bottom lip as he waited for you to part your lips for him. 
"You're going to suck his cock while I fuck my load into you darling," Jin praised as he pushed his hips forward sinking into you making you moan out loudly. Namjoon took advantage and pushed his cock into your mouth, grunting as you moaned around his length sending vibrations through him. 
"Fuck, you're not even moving and she's crying out around me," Namjoon laughed but Jin began to thrust into you roughly, putting his hands on your hips as he began to powerfully slam in and out of you. His cock sending your head into a mind-fog at how incredible it felt to feel him stretching you out. Namjoon gripped onto the chocker again and began pulling you around his cock, watching as you began drooling down yourself as you moaned out. Eyes filling up with tears as you did your best to please him to the extent that he loved so much. 
"Don't cry slut," He moaned out as he continued to push into you, pulling out for a couple of seconds to let you catch your breath. You moaned out breathlessly at the overwhelming sensations you were getting and Namjoon pushed back into your mouth, groaning loudly when you began sputtering and coughing trying to catch your breath.
Jin slammed into you as he slapped you across the ass, smirking as he watched what Namjoon was doing to you. The sight of it alone bringing him closer to his edge. 
"How does this feel, slut...Have two cocks in you at the same time. Filling up two of your holes." Jin chuckled deeply as he continued to fuck into you. Vigorously thrusting as he thought back his urge to cum in you right away. You were clenching around him so tightly it felt as though you had a vice around his cock, he could feel every inch of you. 
"So good!" You screamed out as you pulled Namjoon's cock out of your mouth to let out a high pitched whimper. 
"So good!" Namjoon mocked as he thrust back into your mouth while Jin laughed at your desperation. Slamming into you as he pushed his cock deeper inside of you, each of his thrusts getting stronger than the last one.
"J-Joon, I can't," Jin panted as he continued to slap into you, Namjoon nodded his head at Jin knowing that meant he was close to his release, 
"The little whore is going to get so filled with cum, she won't know what hit her." Namjoon chuckled as he pulled his cock out of your mouth and pumped himself. Wanting you to enjoy the feeling of Jin cumming into you while you cam around him. 
"You wanna cum for me princess?" Jin hummed as he reached under you to rub your clit roughly. Moaning out his name all you could do was nod as your eyes began to roll back. The pleasure building up inside of you as Namjoon watched the both of you fucking. 
"Squeeze nice and hard around my cock with that slutty pussy princess. Cum for me right now." He grunted as he continued to pound into you from behind, grunting loudly as his balls hit your skin. You cried out his name as you dug your nails into the carpet, roll your head back as your chest fell down against the carpeted floor. The feeling of Jin's cum spilling out of you made you whimper but not as much as when he pulled out of you. 
"Now, now slut. You won't be empty for long." Namjoon knelt down behind you and sat you back against him on his length. A loud scream leaving your throat at the sudden stretch of his cock throbbing inside of you. 
"N-Namjoon!" You mewled out as you began to slowly rise and fall on him. His breathing began to get heavier as he guided your hips up and down on him. You knew he wasn't going to last long from the way he'd been fucking your throat.
"Cum whenever you want baby," He breathed out as he continued to pull you onto him. You clenched around him squeezing him the way he like and whimpered as another orgasm ripped through you so soon after the previous one. You screamed out his name as you orgasm ran over you and you squirted around his cock. Crying out when you felt him cum into you and he held onto you tightly so you couldn't move. 
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"We're right here baby," Jin whispered as he laid you down on the bed. Your breathing was erratic as you tried to come down from your highs, Namjoon snuggled behind you and pulled the sheets over your body. 
"Nice and slow, kitten. Take a deep breath." He whispered in your ear, taking your hands in his as you squeezed his fingers. Looking at Jin as you tried to bring yourself down, breathing in slowly and deeply as they told you too. 
"You were such a good girl today," Jin complimented as he cupped your face in his hands and made you look at him
"Our good girl," Namjoon whispered, kissing your skin softly as he began to hum to you, both of them waiting for you to cool down before they took you for a nice long bubble bath where they could give you the proper aftercare you deserved.
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Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @rjsmochii @fan-ati--c @taestannie @kneel-begyourpardon @bisexualmess007 @sw33tnight​ @sweeneyblue1​ @jin-from-the-block​
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scuttle-buttle · 3 years ago
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Psychopathia Sexualis - Chapter 1
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Sequel to The Interpretation of Dreams
Pairing: Modern AU Professor Laszlo Kreizler x Fem!Reader
Summary: After experiencing a whirlwind enemies-turned-lovers romance with the imposing Professor Laszlo Kreizler, things have been wonderful for you. Your studies are coming along, work is enjoyable, and you are in a stable relationship with the man you believe to be the love of your life. Suddenly, everything threatens to come crashing down with the arrival of a face from the past. Will jealousy and desire consume you and destroy the love you finally found?
WC: 1116
Rated: M (will increase in later chapters)
Chapter Tags: domestic fluff, age difference, technically student/teacher relationship, mentions of daddy kinks & sugar daddies
🧠
Time passed quickly since the day you and the doctor finally admitted your feelings for each other. After that you were practically inseparable. You resumed work as his TA, only occasionally getting distracted, but the term was over after a few short weeks anyway. You had agreed to keep everything rather low key, so as not to encourage the wrath of the university. There was no actual rule against graduate students coupling with professors. Nevertheless, the practice was often frowned upon, and you didn’t want Laszlo to get in trouble. If anyone asked, you were just ‘friendly coworkers that sometimes ate meals together after work’. Most didn't pay attention to you anyway since you weren't friends with any underclassmen. Despite the fifteen year age difference you were both on the same page with the seriousness of the relationship. You knew how you felt about each other.
Sara and John found out right away. Because they had expected it to happen anyway there was no reason to hide it from them. The two were beyond happy for you. Whether Laszlo had noticed John slip a twenty dollar bill into Sara’s hand after the admission you’ll never know; at your raised brow John just shrugged and said that it was "about damn time". Bitsy was equally as delighted for you. She wouldn’t admit it, but she was also glad you would be out of the house more often so that she could spend time with her own boyfriend, Lucius.
Now, you are laying on your Laszlo’s bed scrolling through social media. The wintery weather outside his bedroom window gives you a chill despite the warmth of the fireplace he has burning. You were still not over just how nice his place was. It was in a rather upscale part of town and was roughly three times the size of your place. The townhouse style was similar in fashion to his office at the university - full of dark ornate wood and books and even a chandelier in the foyer. When you had asked how he afforded something like this in the heart of the city, he had just said a wealthy great uncle or other had left it in the family. With Laszlo being the only surviving member he inherited it.
Your love was getting himself ready in the bathroom. He had a department meeting to attend on campus in an hour. Tomorrow the new spring term would begin, and you were to resume your post as his TA. An errant thought crosses your mind as you admire the expensive looking painting hung on his wall.
“Laz?”
“Yes, Bärchen?” his response echoes in the large bathroom. You smile at the nickname, little bear. He’d given it to you because he said your presence was like that of a bear, ready to fight to protect herself and those she cared about.
“Are you my sugar daddy?” You can see his reflection in the mirror. He looks scandalized by the implications of your question.
“What would prompt you to ask that?” A blush forms on the apples of his cheeks.
“I mean think about it, I spend time with you - an older, exceedingly handsome, wealthy man - and in return I get orgasms and nice things.” Truth is, you are joking entirely, you know the relationship is conventional. You just like to watch him squirm with teasing like this.
He walks into the bedroom and picks his sweater off the bed next to you. “You're teasing me," he accuses with a grin. "I hardly think it can be considered as that sort of arrangement when you get paid because you are employed to work for me. It is merely happenstance that the other characteristics should parallel themselves to that of a…” he searches for the words, “financial benefactor.” You laugh at his unwillingness to say ‘sugar daddy’. “As for the orgasms…” he smirks and drops a kiss to your head.
He finishes dressing as you bury yourself under the duvet. “What are your plans while I’m detained?”
“I don’t know, figured I would just take it easy today. I need to be well rested for my first day at work tomorrow - I hear some pretty ruthless things about this German doctor I’m going to be working with.” You get off the bed and wrap your arms around Laszlo’s waist. “But I don't know, I think I’ll like the guy.” He leans in to give you a chaste kiss.
Checking his watch he sees that he needs to leave lest he be late for the meeting. “You’re welcome to stay here while I’m gone. It shouldn’t be more than an hour or two at most. Perhaps we will go to Delmonicos for dinner to celebrate the beginning of a new term.”
“Sounds great, daddy,” you wink. Normally you didn’t tease him this much, but you were in a playful mood.
He rolls his eyes. “Remind me why it is that I tolerate you?”
“‘Cause you love me,” you retort with a broad smile.
He brings your hand up, kissing the back of it as he turns to leave. Softly he whispers “Indeed I do.”
_
Laszlo fiddles with the pen in his hand. The upcoming semester was no different than previous ones. He had stopped taking ‘notes’ long ago as the head of the department continued to drone on. Laszlo would admit, the meeting had drawn on longer than anticipated and he had lost focus on the last few minutes. He would rather be at home in your company than here.
“Before we end the meeting I do have one last exciting announcement - many of you have been around long enough to remember, but we are pleased to be welcoming back Dr. Stratton as a visiting professor this semester!” the department head cheered. At the mention of a Dr. Stratton Laszlo perked up.
“Dr. Karen Stratton will be conducting outside research in the city, so I have asked that she grace us with her presence in teaching an elective on her speciality: sexual deviancy. Unfortunately, she is on a flight to the states as we speak, otherwise I know she would be here to greet you all herself.”
Karen was coming to New York?
The thought excited him, as he hadn’t seen her since he moved to the States four years ago. He and Karen had followed each other's work for years before meeting at a symposium in Vienna almost six years prior. The two remained close until he accepted the current position and fell out of touch.
Meeting over, Laszlo sent you a text to be ready for Delmonico’s when he got home. He had much to look forward to this term.
Tag list
@hardlyinteresting @lorna-d-m @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles @greeneyedblondie44 @unbeatablecurlgirl @apparrio @marchingicenotes7 @anteroom-of-death @bruhidaniel @lemairepstuff @thehuiabird @zemosimp05 @alindeluce @iamnotthecatladynextdoor @laura-naruto-fan1998 @trelaney @boneheadduluc @i-am-dead-inside-666 @fictionlandslanddreams @thatoneartgalsstuff @hb8301 @fandom-princess-forevermore @foggycandywitch
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realllllfangirllllll · 4 years ago
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Beyond Lovers || Chp. 31
{More Than Friends Sequel}
Chairman!Jaehyun AU x CEO!Reader AU
Summary: You find yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with the former CEO after overcoming your fear of love. Although there were rough patches, both of you are now stronger than ever. However, you realize that maintaining a relationship and a company at the same time can be very difficult, especially if someone is out to destroy the both of you.
(Context: This scene takes place in the time frame of the last three chapters of MTF)
Masterlist
{Previous / Next }
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4 months ago...
“Come meet me in Paris. I’ll send you the address.”
Jaehyun’s mind spun like lab rats on a hamster wheel as he contemplated the idea of meeting face to face with Xiaojun. He had set his mind on getting y/n back and he couldn’t act scared now. He needed her in his life and this was his only chance.
~~~
The bright sun was hanging low in the clear sky as Jaehyun let out a yawn. Although jet-lagged and stressed, the thought of being on the same grounds as y/n made him feel a bit better. After all, it seemed like he hasn’t seen her for years. He chuckled to himself upon the realization of how much y/n’s presence affected him.
He stepped into the luxurious hotel lobby and made his way to the glass elevators before he quickly pressed the button to floor six. When the room door opened, he found himself sitting on the lonely chair placed across from the lush couch with his heart beating nervously. Never had he been more nervous for a meeting, in fact, he usually wasn’t the type of person to get nervous at all. He guessed that y/n and Xiaojun were definitely of blood relation as they were the only two people to ever make him feel even slightly nervous.
His hands were clasped politely in front of his lap as he tried his best to sit as straight as possible. On the other hand, Xiaojun sat comfortably yet arrogantly on the couch with his legs crossed. His stern, sharp gaze examined Jaehyun from his neatly gelled hair, his casual yet sleek navy dress shirt, to his expensive leather shoes. Jaehyun didn’t move an inch and allowed Xiaojun to take in whatever he wanted to see. He dressed casually but neat with the intent of giving off a good, first in-person impression. He didn’t want Xiaojun to think of him as an egotistic rich boy but a hardworking and polite man that is sincere to y/n.
Xiaojun suddenly let out a chilling laugh that did nothing to clear the tension in the room. “You don’t have to act so stiff, treat me comfortably.” 
Jaehyun nervously chuckled as Xiaojun broke out an eerie smile and offered, “You must be exhausted from that flight. Want something to drink?”
Jaehyun looked at him and saw that his eyes held a stonecold stare that shouted ‘refuse if you dare.’ He quickly responded with a yes and Xiaojun’s eerie smile returned. As if he prepared for this scenario, his hands grabbed the bottle of liquor on the marble coffee table and filled the two empty glasses by its side. He set the bottle aside and asked as he quirked his eyebrow, “You do drink whiskey, do you?”
Jaehyun responded with a quick, “yes sir,” and Xiaojun chuckled, “No need to be so formal with me. You are about the same age as me after all.”
Jaehyun almost choked on his drink at his words and stuttered, “Y-yes if that’s what you want.” Hesitantly, he continued, “By the way...How do you know my age?”
Xiaojun chugged his drink and rather loudly before he bluntly told him that he had searched him up online, read articles about him, and even had some intel from someone on the inside. Jaehyun’s eyes widened at his last statement. He wasn’t new to this sort of investigation as he had done so himself around people he found suspicious, especially with Jaemin. But he was surprised, yet amused, that Xiaojun was that kind of person as well. 
He cleared his glass of whiskey and set it down on the table. “You seem to be a very reliable person.”
Xiaojun gave him a questioning stare as he waited for him to elaborate on his words. Jaehyun chuckled, suddenly feeling more comfortable around the man in front of him and slightly loosened his stiff body. “It’s only right to keep an eye out on suspicious people. I would.”
At his elaboration, Xiaojun’s expression seemed to change into one with slightly more approval. His cold stare shifted to a warmer gaze as he uncrossed his legs and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. His eyes first looked down at his interlocked fingers and then seriously up at Jaehyun. “What is your endgame with my baby sister?”
Jaehyun sat up straighter again and responded with slight confusion in his tone, “Endgame? I don’t have one. My love for your sister isn’t a game.”
Xiaojun smirked and asked, “Then what is it?”
Jaehyun never broke eye contact with the man in front of him and said sincerely, “To me, loving y/n is like living in a warm home. I only want to make her feel happy and comfortable like how she makes me feel. I want her to feel what being loved means.”
He hoped that wasn’t too blunt and stopped himself before he could say anything more, but Xiaojun chuckled. This time, he didn’t have an eerie smile but a genuine one. He poured the both of them more whiskey and said in a gentler yet firm tone, “You’re the first, you know.”
“The first what?” Jaehyun said a little softer, scared that that statement might hold a negative connotation.
Xiaojun peered down at his glass of whiskey, slightly moving the cup in a circular motion before setting it down without taking a sip. “Guess I don’t need this whiskey anymore.”
He looked up and saw Jaehyun’s puzzled look. “You are much more innocent than I thought,” he laughed. He sat straighter, breaking from his previous position and told Jaehyun nonchalantly, “You are actually the first to tell me something worth my time. You see...most guys that previously held y/n’s interest will walk into my door and say some bullshit. I’ve heard countless fuckers say they date my sister because she will make a great couple with them, she will light up their day, or some equivalent shit.” His eyes hardened and stared straight into Jaehyun’s. “I don’t want to hear that. Ever.” Jaehyun unconsciously gulped and Xiaojun chuckled, “But you on the other hand. You are different. While others think about themselves, you think about y/n.”
Jaehyun felt relieved but not a second later, Xiaojun gave him the same cold stare again. “But y/n means the world to me. She’s my only family and the only person I will sell my soul to protect. You got that?” Jaehyun quickly nodded in response and Xiaojun’s tone softened again. “I don’t know how far you are in this relationship, but you must know that y/n didn’t have parents growing up as they abandoned us quite harshly.” He glanced at Jaehyun’s expression and figured he knew what he was referring to. “So you do know. Well then your relationship must have been going on for quite a while…”
“Not really,” Jaehyun replied a bit hesitant. 
Xiaojun quirked his eyebrow, “How long then?”
“Technically...only a few months,” Jaehyun rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of whether he should give him all the details of their complicated relationship, “But we’ve kind of been circling around the first month…”
“Circling around?” Jaehyun gulped, afraid this would give him some negative points on his approval but Xiaojun stared intently at him and suddenly burst out laughing. He knew that his younger sister was never the one to wait for initiation. She wasn’t careful with things she didn’t care for. All her previous relationships started fairly quickly. But when y/n really liked something, she would wait, go through a ton of inner debation, and finally come up with a decision. Xiaojun knew that because she does the same with photography. She never rushes the process and would take her time finding the right angle, the right natural lighting, and the right model. She would often tell Xiaojun, “Precious moments are to be dealt with carefully because they are especially fragile.” 
Now that Jaehyun confessed the upbringing of their relationship, albeit vague, he realized just how much y/n valued this man that sat nervously in front of him. He muttered to himself both out of amusement and astonishment, “Wow y/n...So he’s the one huh?”
He stopped laughing and stared seriously at Jaehyun again, “Listen up lover boy. The reason I told you to come here was to either show you that you are not worthy of my precious sister or to beat you to a pulp if you didn’t listen like some arrogant douches I’ve encountered in her past relationships.” Unknowingly, Jaehyun chuckled at his last statement and Xiaojun’s ears perked, “Did you just laugh?”
Jaehyun’s eyes widened upon the realization of what he just did and immediately corrected himself, “No no, I didn’t mean it in that way.” He scratched the back of his neck again and continued, “I actually just,” he paused and let out a light chuckle, “I just relate to that as well.”
Xiaojun was caught off guard as he blinked in disbelief at the man’s reaction, “You what?”
A sense of respect coated Jaehyun’s tone as he clarified, “Some people call it reckless, some people call it crazy. But in the line of business I work in, those hypocritical people only fear those with the power of the fist and intimidation.” He let out a bitter chuckle and told Xiaojun, “With y/n around, especially, I just feel the need to make sure she doesn’t get hurt by ignorant people.”
Xiaojun smirked, “You’re not half as bad as I thought Jaehyun.” He smiled and continued, “Anyways, y/n may be my baby sister but ever since we were little all she has done was make sure I was happy. She took care of me more than I did with her. She supported and helped me with my Youtube career and tagged along without any complaints. And because of that, she never really had a stable place to call her home. I’m glad she was able to open up to you. She usually never tells someone about her parents until at least a year into the relationship. It shows she really is comfortable around you. And judging from the way you react to my words and actions, it seems I don’t need to play the role of a protector for her anymore. You seem to suit the role.”
Before Jaehyun could respond Xiaojun immediately cut him off, “But one more thing. As a Youtuber, I know the public forum can be harsh and the spotlight will never be easy. For that, I know the situation at the Starship Charity Ball was not entirely your fault,” His cold stare came back as he stared seriously at Jaehyun, “But don’t you ever dare forget this. When you walk out this door and go to y/n, you will do everything in your power to help and protect her. It might not be entirely your fault, but it was because of you that y/n is now in the spotlight.”
Jaehyun replied in agreement almost immediately and Xiaojun continued, “Take the consequences and make the best of it.” He narrowed his eyes and made sure Jaehyun understood his commands. “But don’t you ever let y/n get hurt by it.” He continued and emphasized his last point in a much deeper and darker tone, “You hurt my only family and I will show you no mercy. However hurt y/n becomes, I will give that back to you threefold, understood?”
“Of course! I will always be by her to protect her. No matter who or what gets in the way,” Jaehyun replied quickly and genuinely. 
Xiaojun shut his eyes for a moment and nodded, content with his response and overall behavior. 
“Effiel Tower,” he opened his eyes again and looked at Jaehyun with a soft and somewhat hopeful gaze, “She should be somewhere around the Effiel Tower right now.”
Jaehyun immediately popped up from his seat, ready to meet his love again. Before he twisted the doorknob of the hotel room, he turned around and told Xiaojun with the utmost respect, “I will treat her like my own family, I promise.”
Xiaojun chuckled and leaned against the soft pillows on the couch, “You better lover boy, my fists are ready to fight any time of the day.”
———
• Dropping a post early since I’ll be off to celebrate my bday!! •
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lucisfavoritedemon · 3 years ago
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Something Domestic
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Pairing: Bucky x reader
Summary: You never thought your life to be grand, but you never saw as absolutely terrible either. You were always happy with the things you had, but the one thing that you always wanted was to find love. Little do you know love is just two steps away, and across the hall.
Square Filled: Neighbor AU @marvelfluffbingo
Warnings: super cute fluff, anxious Bucky, shy reader, slight smut, implied smut, slight angst 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 3573
A/N: This originally was going to be a platonic Sebastian Stan x reader fic, but I got inspired to do something else. I was somewhat inspired by a TikTok POV called Two Lost Souls by hlovesmarvelpov which is where I got the idea to write what life was like for Bucky in Romania. I want to give credit to @nix-akimbo whose art I used in the collage for this story. Pics are linked here, here, and here. Other images we're found off of Pinterest, but the collage is mine made on Canva. Everything in italics is 3rd person POV of Bucky’s thoughts. This is not beta read, so all mistakes are mine.
Enjoy!
I never knew where life would lead me. I knew I wasn’t going to find something to do to make me rich. All I really wanted was to find a good job that paid me enough to get by. Living in Romania was an absolute dream. It was so beautiful, and it was always so interesting. Everyday felt like a new adventure. At the market you never knew who was gonna show up, or what was going to happen.
One day while at the market, just shopping for some fresh produce to restock my apartment with for the week, I saw an interesting looking man. I had never seen him before, and he definitely didn’t look like he was from around here. Something about him drew me in, but I was too shy to approach him to say hello.
I was definitely at that age where I was ready to look for mister right, and finally settle down. I seemed to have met every guy in this city, and none of them were to my liking. They all seemed very bold, manly, and had egos bigger than some of the buildings. That wasn’t really something I was looking for, and to be fair it was probably just part of their personalities, no judgement there.
There was something about this stranger though that was different. Yes, he was very handsome and buff, but he looked very shy and reserved. Not something I was used to, and that probably contributed to why I was so attracted.
He seemingly glanced my way, and I turned to look away. I knew I must have been staring and I felt awkward about that. So, I quickly finished up my shopping and ran home. I really hoped though that I didn’t make him think that I found him creepy. Damn my shyness, and anxiety.
It had been a few days since I saw the stranger at the market. I was walking down the street to my office when I happened to pass him by. He seemed to pause his gaze for a quick second before looking away. I walked past him at a decent pace, hoping he would make the first move to say hi, but alas, he did not.
The week went by, and it came time for me to head back to the market to restock my produce for the week. I ended my shopping spree and turned to head home when I ran right into someone's very muscular chest. I almost fell back when the person grabbed my arm, catching me.
“Are you okay, miss?” The person asked, speaking Romanian.
“I am fine thank you.” I looked at the person, and it was the stranger I saw last week.
“You’re welcome. Sorry I knocked you over.”
“Please, don’t apologize. I was the one who bumped into you.”
“At least allow me to help you carry your groceries home.”
I nodded and handed him a bag. He gestured for me to start walking, and I led him to my apartment complex. “My place is a bit messy, I wasn’t expecting anyone to come over to see it.” I said, going to unlock the door.
“Don’t apologize, I won’t go in if you feel uncomfortable.”
“I feel bad having you follow me all this way, and not even offer you a snack or something.”
“You’re too sweet. I’m okay, doll. I’ll stay out here. It also wasn’t too out of the way for me.”
“Are you sure?” I reached my hand out to take the bag he was holding.
“I’m sure,” he handed me the bag and turned to walk away, “and if you need me, I live just across the hall.” He walked over, unlocking his door, and opening it.
I almost fell back in shock. How did I not know this man lived across the hall from me? I surely would have seen him walking out. He turned and smiled at me before walking into his apartment. I tried not to look shocked, but all this time I had no idea he was living just 5 steps away. 
I close my door quickly and go to put my produce away. I tried to keep the stranger off my mind, but that seemed like an impossible task. Then, I thought of the perfect idea, I would invite him over for dinner. I wanted to get to know him, I needed to. Put all these wandering thoughts to rest.
I made us a lovely dinner of chicken and potatoes. I set everything up to look somewhat nice, and go to knock on his door. When I went to open my door to walk out, he was standing there ready to knock on my door.
He had a bouquet of different assorted flowers. I give him a small, shy smile as he hands them to me. I, of course, take them and find a vase to put them in. As I put them in the water, I look over at him, and he looks kind of sad.
“What’s wrong?”
“Are you expecting someone? I didn’t mean to come off straight forward. I just-”
“I wasn’t technically. I was going to ask you if you wanted to join me for dinner?”
“Really?” He perked up, and I nodded my head, “I was going to ask you the same thing. A home cooked meal sounds better than one you can get at any restaurant.” He chuckled.
We sat down, and talked for hours. He avoided some of the questions I asked him, but I wasn’t going to push him for answers if he didn’t want to answer them yet. We laughed, joked, and just enjoyed each other’s company. 
“I realised that I never asked for your name, doll.” He spoke up.
“My name is Y/n. I never asked yours either.”
“I guess we both figured it would come up eventually. My real name is James, but you can call me Bucky.”
I smiled as I thought of what a lovely name that was. I didn’t ask why he preferred Bucky over James. Something in me wanted to make him love it, adore it. I wanted him to treasure his given name as I was right now.
The night came to an end much to our dismay. I didn’t want to say goodnight though. I wanted him to stay, which wasn’t like me at all. I usually said yes to one date, and that was that. I don’t know what was different about Bucky, but he brought out a new side of me. He intrigued me, and I had to know more about him.
“Until next time, doll. Promise you won’t bump into another guy before then?” He chuckled.
I giggle, “I promise. You’ll be the only guy I bump into now. At least that’s my hope.”
He kissed my cheek before walking to his door, and I could have sworn I was flying. If that was the way it felt when he kissed my cheek, what would it feel like if he kissed my lips.
~*~
Over the course of three months every Sunday Bucky and I had dinner together. We started with switching off, but slowly Bucky had been taking over our Sunday night dinners. Tonight when I went over I realised that I was slowly moving into his apartment. 
“You okay doll?” He asked, looking at my far off look.
“Yeah. I just realised it looks like I’m starting to take over your apartment.”
“That was one thing I was going to ask you about tonight.”
“I’m so sorry, I’ll pick up my stuff and take back to my place i didn’t-”
“Not that. I was going to ask if you wanted to move in together. It doesn’t have to be in my apartment, and I know we’ve only been together for a few months, but-”
“You want to move in together?”
Bucky just nods slowly, and I rush to hug him. I no longer had to wonder what it would feel like to be wrapped up in his arms. I no longer had to feel that lonely feeling I felt after our Sunday night dinners. I tried to keep my mind from racing with all the things I had wondered about. 
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Bucky chuckles, squeezing me back.
After dinner, we walked over to my apartment to get some extra blankets and pillows. I hoped I hadn’t rushed him into this by slowly looking like I was trying to move myself in on my own. I hadn’t even realised that our hangouts had left with me leaving my belongings all over the place.
“My place is your place now.” He spoke up, placing the blankets he was carrying on the bed.
“I didn’t rush you into this did I?”
“No. I know it seems quick, but I just get this feeling when I’m around that makes me not want to take things as slow as we probably should.”
“I was worried I was rushing you into things. I didn’t even realise that I was leaving things over at your house.”
“No. I have been planning on asking you for a few weeks now.”
I smile as we curl into bed together for the very first time. He was warm, and I felt safe laying in his arms. Laying there for the first time in a long time, I fell asleep almost immediately.
~*~
It has been 6 months since Bucky and I started seeing each other, and it has been the best 6 months of life. Even the last 3 months have been amazing. I have enjoyed every minute I have spent with Bucky. He is sweet and kind, and I couldn’t ask for anyone better. He had my heart in his hands, and I didn’t want it back.
The only thing that was strange is he didn’t talk about his life at all. He wanted to hear all about my life, but he wouldn’t speak about his life prior to coming to Romania. I knew he originally came from America because we both switched from speaking Romanian to English when we are alone.
“Is everything okay, doll?” Bucky asked, tearing me from my thoughts.
“I was just thinking.”
“About what? You know you can tell me anything right?”
“Tell you, yes. Ask, no.” I kind of snapped as I stood up to put my plate in the sink.
“Is everything okay?” I could hear the panic in his voice, and I didn’t mean to hurt him, but I knew I had to say something, or it would eat me alive.
“I just don’t get why you want to hear all about me, but avoid questions about your life. I get it if you don’t want to talk about it now. I just don’t like it when you dodge it altogether.”
“Okay I understand that, and I’m sorry.”
Bucky really was sorry. He didn’t want to scare her away with the horrors of his past. He wanted her to know more about him. He wanted her to know that he is way older than what she may think he is. That he fought side by side with Captain America during WWII. 
He couldn’t get the words out though. He would lie awake at night trying to figure out how to tell her. Even on the nights when he found it hard to sleep, and he couldn’t lay there anymore, he wanted to wake her and just spill all the stories. 
He found warmth and comfort in her, but he didn’t want to haunt her with his past. He couldn’t taint such an angel like her, no matter how bad he wanted her to know. To hear her voice break just a little as she expressed how she felt broke him.
“You don’t have to be sorry. I just want you to know that it hurts me a little whenever you don’t give an explanation.”
“I want to tell you all about my life, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. I’m sorry.” His eyes went down, and my heart broke for him.
“James, look at me please?”
Bucky loved when she called him James. It was like she was trying to teach him to love his given name, and it was working. It rolled off her tongue so sweetly, and it came out so easily. He couldn’t help but obey when she asked him in that sweet tone of hers.
“The fact that you want to is enough for me right now. I’m not upset,” I smile sweetly at him, and walk over, placing my hand on his, “I don’t want to push. When you are ready, my love, I will be here waiting to listen contently.”
Bucky’s heart sighed in relief. He was worried that he had mucked everything up. He cared too much about her to let himself ruin things. If she wasn’t content with his response he would have told her everything. If it meant keeping her happy, he would give her the world. 
~*~
My conversation with Bucky seemed to have gone well. He slowly started to open up little by little. He was a bit vague, but at least he was trying. The first time he actually opened up a little was the first night I had noticed he was having a nightmare.
He was tossing and turning in his sleep, and I began to worry. I had heard never to wake someone up from a nightmare, so I sat there till he shot up. He was covered in sweat, and breathing heavily. He went to lay back down not realising I was already awake until I turned on the light. He looked over with sad, apologetic eyes. I just laid my hand on the small of his back letting him know everything was okay.
“I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn't, I was already awake.”
I caressed his cheek, rubbing my thumb against his cheek. He slowly leaned in, and I followed until our lips came together. Sparks flew between us, and I felt butterflies. His lips were soft and gentle. The gentle kiss though soon turned into more. 
Bucky was gentle and slow. Making sure he wasn’t pushing my comfort level, and made sure he wasn’t hurting me. It felt amazing, and was the best night ever. I hoped that with Bucky and I becoming so intimate he would see that no matter what, I wasn’t going to go anywhere.
Bucky wasn’t sure how Y/n would feel if he initiated the kiss, but she put just as much passion into it as he did. He pushed into it more, and she returned it. Before he knew it he was on top of her naked body. He made sure he didn’t push her to do something she didn’t want to, but he could tell in her eyes she had been waiting a long time for this moment.
He made sure to be as gentle with her as he possibly could, but the urge to be inside her was too much for him to bear anymore. The room was filled with their moans as their bodies were connected so intimately.
Bucky felt that everything was going to be okay between them after that night. He held her as tight as possible after that, and was able to sleep through the rest of the night. Maybe he was worried about nothing. He felt like he could do anything now as long as he had her by her side.
~*~
“James, will you run out and get some fruit for me?” I hollered from the kitchen.
Bucky came into the room as he finished getting dressed, “anything specific you want?”
“No, just something I can turn into jam. The stand has been doing really well, and I’m running low on fruit.”
Bucky smiled as he walked over to me kissing my cheek, “anything for you, doll.”
Bucky left shortly after that, and I started to package the batch I had already made. Once I finished jarring what I had, I went to the walk-in pantry we had and started to shelve them. I thought I heard the door open so I called out to Bucky, but I got no answer.
“Everything alright out there my love?” I walked out of the pantry to be met by a man dressed in an all blue outfit. He was carrying a shield on his back that was red, white, and blue with a white star in the center.
He was looking through our kitchen, and I began to panic. I had no idea who this man was, or why he was in our apartment. I couldn’t find words to say when he noticed me.
“Where is Bucky?”
“Why do you want to know?” I asked, speaking in Romanian.
The man just turned around and looked at the top of the fridge. He pulled down a book, and that’s when I felt a hand on the small of my back. I jumped slightly at first then I realised it was Bucky behind me.
The stranger turned around, and saw Bucky. He started asking weird questions like if Bucky knew him, or why he pulled him from a river? All of it was so confusing and worrying to me. Before I knew it we were being attacked by the police. 
Bucky took off and I tried to follow him, but the stranger told me to stay put. Once the fight took the streets, I tried to follow on foot. By the time I got where I thought they would come out of, they were being surrounded. Bucky was being shoved to the ground and handcuffed. 
“James!” I yelled, rushing to him, and fighting the blockade of police.
They shoved me back, but I fought back harder. It was no use though as they loaded Bucky into a huge truck. I felt like my world had just come crashing down on me. Everything that happened this last year all came flooding back to me. I knew I had to get Bucky out of there. He was an innocent man, and I knew as long as we had each other, there would be nothing we couldn’t conquer.
~*~
Y/N tried to move on as best she could, but her heart felt empty. The day they took Bucky away in handcuffs was the day her heart left her. She closed her stand in the market, and went back to her dead end job. She moved out of their shared apartment because the thought, or even smell of him was too painful.
Y/n thought that the love of her life was gone forever. She even thought about moving away permanently, but loved the city too much to do that. The once bright and bubbly girl went back to her old reclusive self before she met him. No one had ever put the light back into her. Her smile was gone, and she hardly ever laughed anymore.
She was returning home from work one night, and decided to take the long way home. She wandered towards her old apartment complex as she often did. Ignoring the weird looks she got from the people she passed by, she kept her eyes to the ground. That was her mistake as she was lost in thought when she bumped into a muscular chest, almost falling to the ground. 
A firm gentle hand grabbed her arm kept her from falling, and she fought back tears as she remembered her very first full encounter with Bucky. “I’m sorry, I should have been paying attention.” Her voice broke as she fought back the pain, not wanting to look the stranger in the eyes.
“It’s okay. I’m sorry I almost knocked you over.”
“Please don’t apologize. I was-”
“The one who bumped into me?” 
Y/n heard the man chuckle and almost felt like she could hear Bucky behind the chuckle. She gained enough courage to look up at the stranger who she bumped into, and the person she saw was not who she was expecting.
“You okay doll? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
She didn’t even hesitate to jump into his arms. It was the reunion she waited almost two years for. He picked her up and held her tightly as if he let her go, she would disappear. Y/n nuzzled her face in the crook of his neck taking in his scent.
“I’m sorry I left you. I-”
“It’s not your fault James. You’re back, and that’s all that matters.”
Bucky pulled away slightly from the hug to look her in the eyes. He pulled her in for a soft, gentle kiss. For the first time since that terrible day, Y/n smiled into the kiss. Now that they were back in each other’s arms, she finally felt like her heart was put back together. 
She didn’t care what happened, she was just happy to have him back in her arms. She was happy he was safe and sound with her again. The light in her eyes had returned, and Bucky felt like he was falling in love with her all over again. The world could throw whatever it wanted at him now. He had his girl back, and he felt like he could overcome anything as long as he kept her by his side for the rest of his life.
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gwoongi · 5 years ago
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wordless pt.1
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jeon jeongguk / reader genre: hitman (john wick?) au, sugar daddy au, fluff, pining, angst rating: mature words: 4.1k warnings: mentions of blood and violence, unconventional relationship, angsty themes, smoking mention a/n: this is jeongguk as john wick because i’m trash and i cant finish one story at a time. these prompts r from here btw :) im gonna do all 50 but im too lazy rn so here’s the first 10 :D
Sometimes, saying “I love you” is inappropriate, and given your circumstances, you think it might send Jeongguk over the edge if he hears them again.
Parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five
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Now, it definitely was not a stretch to assume that everything in Jeongguk’s life was indeed unconventional. People didn’t need to understand that what Jeongguk did for work was something that, by the law, was considered unprofessional and inhumane, and so when asked, Jeongguk sufficed for “boss of a company”, and questions weren’t asked. If they were, Jeongguk came up with a slightly more conventional lie, to make up for the reality that was Jeongguk working on the clock, killing nobodies for a bit of cash.
Taehyung, his right-hand man, had expressed how unconventional Jeongguk seemed to be over a dinner in Venice, a little restaurant tucked away unconventionally in a street that did not belong to America. Jeongguk spoke four languages comfortably, and had parents retiring in the Canary Islands. Jeongguk donated money to women’s charities and mental health services, and helped bribe his cousins into Ivy Leagues when racism prevented them from entry. Jeongguk was a Joe-Exotic in the making and owned a rescue black panther named Elio, and had houses across the globe for use when working. And, Jeongguk was dipping his toes into playing house with a sugar baby who was only five years younger than him, of whom he had met in a stakeout which involved the hit being on your brother’s head. Unconventionally, you led him to his target, and afterwards, dined with him in a Thai restaurant.
Things in Jeongguk’s life were far from ordinary, but perhaps it was the denial of mundane comforts that kept Jeongguk going. If he went back to normality, to working a shitty customer service job like when he was seventeen, dumping trash into overflowing piles behind the off-license he worked at, things wouldn’t be the same. Jeongguk would feel alien, like he didn’t belong. At least here, amongst the pain and the bullets and the years worth of trauma packed in his wrinkles (which, yes, if he looks hard enough, he can see some cursing his twenty five year old skin), Jeongguk felt like he sort of belonged. In an unconventional way.
Having met Jeongguk during his line of work, there were difficulties in being Jeongguk’s sugar baby. For one, he always felt guilty for having murdered your brother, even though you heavily supported the hit. Your brother was a jerk, a bully with money, someone who had wronged your entire family, turned off your younger sister’s life support when there was a chance of her survival. Asshole, he deserved it. Secondly, Jeongguk was impractical and irrational and often acted selfishly, meaning he was often out of the country on work, only available in whispers for a few hours and then he was gone, compensating with a few sums of cash.
He tried his best. Jeongguk, despite technicalities including his work and his past and his occasional mean streak, genuinely cared about other people. When he could, he made the effort, otherwise not attempting to make promises to you that he could not keep. Jeongguk knows that he got really lucky when he found you. You didn’t ask questions. Nobody was better for him.
However, Jeongguk was selfish, and broken, and in refusal of fixing what was wrong with him. When it was of convenience, Jeongguk drew comparisons to the last girlfriend he tried to entertain. One who wronged him, and died when he tried to repair everything she had destroyed. Jeongguk carries that with him like the tattoos on his skin, a permanent memory, and something that often disturbs what could be and should be between the both of you.
Jeongguk is worthy of love, and capable of loving. On days where Jeongguk is free to lounge without the guilt of not working, you find it is so easy to love him. But, it can’t be that way. You couldn’t just tell him that. Telling him that you loved him would be inappropriately unconventional. Sometimes, saying “I love you” is inappropriate, and given your circumstances, you think it might send Jeongguk over the edge if he hears it again.
(1) Holding their hands when they are shaking.
Jeongguk is in his living room, his right leg bouncing like a spring as he cradles an infant glass of whiskey. His eyes are glazed, yet wide, staring at the Seoul city draped in darkness and neon, and without even looking inside, you know that his brain is spinning, thoughts chaotic and loud.
“Hey,” you call out to him, and his eyes stutter to the left to catch you in the doorway, “I heard you get up. What’s wrong?”
Jeongguk shakes his head gently. “Nothing, baby, go back to bed. I’ll be up in a minute.”
Jeongguk often makes comments without expectancies. You stand in the doorway that connects the living room to the long hall that stems into bedrooms and bathrooms, and watch him for a moment. His whole body vibrates like a speaker, his hands trembling as the glass drains and he reaches for a second, or a third, or maybe a tenth. You want to sigh, without being patronising, but you know that any sign of sympathy is mistaken for that whenever Jeongguk is around to make the judgement.
He looks back to the skyline and frowns, his attention panning from the window to his phone that buzzes blue, but he ignores. Stepping across the cool wooden floorboards, you approach him sleepily and take a seat next to him on the sofa. Neither of you move, but he recognises you’ve moved. He bristles slightly, like it was unexpected.
“You can take your time,” you suggest to him, and his hands ache in his lap as he sets the glass down on the coffee table with a careless thud. He scoffs, devoid of emotion, and dips his head so his chin is near his collarbones. In his lap, those hands shake. “Maybe don’t drink so much tonight.”
“I’m clearing my head,” he insists weakly. Those hands still shake.
Brows creased with a pinch, you swallow the unease and reach for his hands. Jeongguk doesn’t say anything as you do so, enveloping his hands in yours, and so suddenly the shaking ceases. Like trying to block the shakes from reaching his wrists, your hands keep his safe.
“I know,” you understand honestly, because you do know what he’s going through. “How about tea, or something? To calm down, calm down the mess that’s up in there.”
Your chin is on his shoulder, and he smiles softly. “Are you calling me messy?”
“Nah, I’m calling your brain messy,” you reply. “It’s a cruel fucking brain.”
“Hate my brain.”
“Today, we hate it.”
Jeongguk’s head turns slightly so that he can see you, and in his lap, his thumbs brush across your skin.
“Thank you,” Jeongguk says quietly, attempting a smile that doesn’t quite convince. It doesn’t necessarily have to, not tonight anyway. His phone continues to flash like a light show, Taehyung’s name in bold. “Fuck. I’ll take the call, and then I’ll come back to bed, okay?”
You nod, “Mm, okay. Want me to make a drink?”
“I don’t need it,” Jeongguk concludes. “Not today.”
(2) Tucking the sheets around them when they stir during the night.
Sometimes Jeongguk wakes up in the night due to nightmares, but tonight, it’s different.
Beside him, you stir uncomfortably and kick his leg for the fourth time. He huffs and looks over, trying to figure out if you’re awake and indignant, or lost in the dream. He settles on the latter when you strain out the name of your brother and his heart swoops with a dull ache.
“You’re just dreaming, baby, come on,” Jeongguk mutters quietly into your ear, holding you in place to calm the thrashing. “He’s not here anymore, I’m here. Y/N.”
It subsides after a few minutes, making it the longest you’ve gone on record. He looks into your sleepy, upset eyes as you break awake and brushes the hair out of your face. He tries to smile for you, and maybe you can’t see in the dark.
“I’ll get you some water,” Jeongguk suggests gently. “Hm? Sweet thing. It’s just a dream.” He says this into your hair in a hug, leaving a kiss on your temple as he breaks. “You’re fine.”
“I’m fine,” you breathe uneasily, and he separates to get a glass of water and returns to find you sleeping again. What relief Jeongguk might have is exhaled as he sets the glass on the bedside table, stroking your hair until he moves away with the sudden realisation that this is not a normal exchange.
Before Jeongguk decides to leave again, he makes sure the bed is made and that you are safe; he tucks the duvet in tightly and presses a kiss to your forehead before grabbing his coat by the front door and leaving your apartment, one tucked in the city so far that Jeongguk finds it a hassle to visit.
(3) Travelling long distances just to see them.
For three days now, you have been in Colmar, and Jeongguk is beginning to feel lonely. It had been his idea to send you away, when the heat on his long, long fued with a rival colleague threatened your safety. In return, you got a new apartment that Taehyung had found closer to Jeongguk’s own when your address got leaked, and Colmar could be considered a vacation if you pretended for long enough.
With tensions cool and the coast somewhat clear, Jeongguk picks the skin around his fingernails as a distraction before deciding that enough was enough. He missed you, and missed how you were always around for him when he needed you most. This is what drives him to jumping on a plane in his company’s name, and flying to France.
A small boat passes underneath the bridge you are standing on, and your hands dig into the barrier as you arch to smile at the tourists beneath. One catches a glimpse of your denim skirt and cherry print blouse in the sunshine and extends his hat with a wave, and you wave back. France is nothing like Seoul, and is indeed warm and fruitful and unique. The sun is hot, the sky is clear, and the streets are filled with an atmospheric buzz of friendliness, the smell of coffee and some food you don’t know yet entrapping your senses.
“Madame, je peux vous prendre en photo?”
Hearing the voice, you turn your body left and prepare to face the tourist, but instead you are welcomed with the sight of Jeongguk dressed in black, sunglasses sliding down his nose with a smile. He does hold a camera in his hands, although teasingly.
“Oui,” you quip, posing cutely and Jeongguk takes a photograph anyway, to humour the moment, to print when he gets back to Seoul. You join his laughter as he peers at the photograph and he walks without looking up towards you.
“When did you get here?” you ask him, a round of laughter from the little boat making you turn to stare at them with a giggle.
“Bout an hour ago,” Jeongguk replies, and he shuts off the camera and puts it in his coat pocket. It’s only a small camera, probably cost him a crumb to buy from a vintage store. He meets your eyes with a comfortable smile and rounds in, pressing your lower back against the bridge barrier and circling your arms around you. Carefully, then, he kisses you, tasting the suncream on your skin as his lips wander from yours to the skin around your face.
“Miss me?”
“Terribly,” Jeongguk responds. “I am so bored when you’re not around. You always have something to do, always have something to say.”
You hum in response. “I’m glad I’m of some entertainment for you.”
“Oh, for sure,” agrees Jeongguk. “I don’t think I’ve used my brain so often when I’m away from work as much as I do when I’m with you. Did you know that you’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met?”
“Wow,” you exclaim with a smile. “Hire me.”
“Ha!” he remarks, kissing you again and taking your hand in his. He moves, back in the way you came. “Over my dead body.”
(4) Making their favorite meal when they are having a hard day.
“You.”
“Not now, Y/N, I’m working,” Jeongguk replies non committedly. He fists his hair.
“Not up for discussion right now,” you huff, and he has the nerve to glare at you which only makes you uncomfortably angry. “You haven’t eaten in fourty eight hours, and I’m not about to be held responsible for your death when you die of hunger, so get your ass in the kitchen before I dump this food over your stupid head.”
He challenges you. “You’re brave talking to somebody who could destroy your life like that.”
“Do it, I literally have nothing to lose,” you answer. “Please eat something. I made it with love and care.”
Jeongguk relents, sighing at his paperwork but nonetheless moving away from his home office and following you like a child towards the direction of the kitchen. He feels bad, you know he feels bad, and he circles his arms around your body as you walk, stumbling into the space of the kitchen and smelling the familiar aroma of pork rice stew. Alas, he sees the bowl steaming in his spot at the table and his eyes follow you as you hum and set start to washing the dishes.
“Y/N-”
“No words, just eating,” you instruct. “Bone apple tit.”
He grins, then, and takes a seat. “You know that’s not the phrase, right?”
“Tell that to Twitter,” you sigh.
(5) Giving them a kiss before going to work and they are still in bed.
Jeongguk prefers to see you when he doesn’t have work the next day, because leaving when you’re asleep is an asshole move in any dictionary. So, when one of his men phones him at four in the morning and relays the horror that someone’s died on his property, Jeongguk has to fight the demons that almost convince him to hand the job over to somebody who gives a fuck about the intruder stuck on his barbed fence.
He gets up, anyway.
Next to him, in the bed that belongs to you because this is your new apartment, Jeongguk stares down at you and feels a tug in his stomach. Guilt, it follows him everywhere like a ghost.
Before he leaves, he likes to give you a little kiss for the morning, so the tingling sensation reminds you that despite being an asshole and leaving without properly saying goodbye, he still gives several shits about you, and will be back when he can be.
(6) Tucking your head into their neck during a hug.
Jeongguk wants to hang Taehyung for making him remember the reasons why you had to move across the city to a new apartment.
It had, of course, been Jeongguk’s fault, and when the notification came from an exhausted worker in his line of work that the alarm system in your apartment had been triggered for an intruder, Jeongguk remembers all he saw was red.
The front door was forced open, a body indent in the wood and the front porch ransacked and littered with shards of glass and bullets. Inside was no prettier, with mess scattered everywhere and photos smashed on the floors. The carpets were stained with red that Jeongguk prayed was just wine, the glass coffee table in two pieces and a knife covered in red on the floor. Jeongguk and his men, along with the few police officers Jeongguk could actually trust in this god-forsaken hellhole, noticed that the blood belonged to one of the intruders who lay dead on the stairs.
Nobody knows how Jeongguk got through the apartment so fast, and why, without any hesitation, he murdered the remaining intruders without suggesting questioning and torture. That was his go-to when it rarely concerned you. He wanted those stupid enough to even try and go after you to really fucking regret it as he picked off fingernails and made them suffer for hours or days. This time he just killed, and moved onwards, calling your name like a mantra.
Jeongguk could have cried when you emerged, petrified, from inside one of the closets. Upon seeing you, Jeongguk collapsed his gun on the floor and stepped towards you protectively, pulling you in tightly for a hug. Sobbing into his neck, you hugged him tighter, feeling finally safe when his hand held the back of your head, like you were a precious thing that was of value.
You were of the highest value to Jeongguk.
“Fuck you,” Jeongguk barks suddenly, and Taehyung shrugs and exits the office. All he had asked was if he loved you.
(7) Lightly kissing on top of a freshly formed bruise.
There might be the assumption that Jeongguk comes home with more bruises than you do. Which is true, technically, and there’s no hesitation from your end in nursing them to a comfortable recovery.
On rare occasion, Jeongguk comes home and finds you exhibiting a new purple blob on your skin. Like today. 
Jeongguk hasn’t seen you in two days, and when he lets himself into your apartment with the key he has glued to him at all times, he follows the silence and light to the bathroom. You sit on the edge of your bathtub, gently rubbing cream on your knee in little circles.
“What happened here?” he asks quickly, and you continue rubbing with your tongue poking out between your lips.
“You’ll laugh, don’t ask,” you mutter.
“Hey, I won’t laugh,” Jeongguk says. He rests his weight against the doorframe, “You open the front door the wrong way again?”
Ha! You laugh humourlessly. “Worse!” You look up at him sadly, “I tripped in the parking lot carrying my groceries. It’s on camera and everything, I want to die.”
Jeongguk pokes the inside of his mouth to resist laughing. “Well, fuck. That’s your leg ruined.”
“I know,” you pout. “Good thing you’re my sugar daddy- wanna pay for cosmetic leg surgery?”
“I like your bruised up legs,” says Jeongguk.
“Me too, but not these ones.”
“Bruh, that’s enough cream on your skin,” Jeongguk exclaims, moving forward to snatch the cream from your hands. “More is not better. Come on, you’re okay.”
“It hurts.”
“Boohoo,” he sighs. You don’t move. “Ugh, whatever. Come’re.”
Jeongguk drops the cream tube onto the sink but it clatters into the bowl. He’ll move it later if he remembers to, and he pretends it’s hard to pick you up off the bathtub and carries you swiftly out of the bathroom and into the living room. Things have barely moved since he last came to visit; the swarms of paper still invade your coffee table and your laptop is on sleep mode by a half-empty coffee cup filled with hot chocolate, because he knows your standing on coffee. Everything is a lot messier now that you’ve decided you want to go back to school, but at least Jeongguk knows it keeps you busy when he’s away.
“Oh,” he says suddenly, as you’re sat down with one leg up around him still. He pokes at a spot on your leg and you squirm, “there’s another one.”
You peer to look, “Oh, yeah, that one’s you.”
“Oh.” He pauses, “Pretty, though.”
You huff like a little baby and he dares you with raised eyebrows. That keeps you silent and Jeongguk moves his body at an angle to the right, sweeping to kiss the bruise better, the bruise that he made a few nights ago with tender love and care.
“All better,” he assures.
“It feels better already.”
“Mm. Magic.”
(8) Buying them something unrequested because it made you think of them.
“So, I was at a school fayre today.”
“Really?” Jeongguk sits with his laptop on his legs, and your legs are tangled around his body like some sort of jungle maze. He rarely works on his bed, not unless the work is sudden and he can’t help it. You’ve just come in, dived on the bed and claimed his waist as something to squeeze your legs around.
“Yep. Like, one of those little craft things where students sell their shit and make money from it. You know, supporting local artists! It’s really cute, if I was good at something I’d have participated.”
Jeongguk thinks of things you’re good at, and there’s a lot. “Aw. There’s always next year.”
“Yeah,” you reason. “Anyway- point is, is that I got you something.”
Jeongguk stills for a second, glancing over his right shoulder to see you, “Me?”
“Yep. You.”
“What did you get?” he asks, and then he’s back to checking blueprints.
You untangle your legs and slide off the bed, retreating to your bag slung across the room by the bedroom door. From here, you take out a small little pin-badge and when you’re sat next to Jeongguk again, you fiddle with it until it catches his attention.
“What’s this?” asks Jeongguk.
“It’s a badge of honour,” you claim, and you slip it into his palms. He fingers the front when he examines it, reading the little words of “Number One Dad” and he stares up at you. “Like it?”
“It’s for me?” he asks again.
“Yeah. You can wear it and like, I don’t know, think of me,” you shrug.
Jeongguk thinks for a moment. Even though it’s stupid, and cliche and a little bit embarrassing, he still thinks it’s funny and thoughtful.
“Want me to wear it to work?” he asks you.
“Oh, absolutely,” you encourage. “I’ll get Taehyung an uncle badge if he gets pissy.”
“Hey, you’re mine and he’s not allowed a relationship to you, no matter what definition,” Jeongguk pouts. “He wants a sugar niece, well...he’ll have to look somewhere else.”
You gape. “Wow. Who thought you had it in you to be so possessive.”
“Please, with a pussy like that of course I’m possessive,” he teases. He’s joking.
“My power,” you sigh anyway, and jump off the bed claiming that you’re hungry. Jeongguk looks at the badge again and pops it in his breast pocket before he loses it and regrets it.
(9) Participating in their hobby even if it doesn’t personally interest you.
Jeongguk’s bored out of his brain.
He has no idea how you can be so fascinated by this stupid game where you’re essentially in debt, but he still sits and watches you tour him around this weird island that is inhabited by ducks and an ugly gorilla villager dressed in pink. And to think that he had a part to play in all of this, because his bank account definitely helped pay for this Nintendo Switch and game.
“Do you like my beach?” you ask him. It’s literally just sand and one coconut tree, and a few shells by the water. Oh, there’s a beach chair on there too, but it makes little difference. “I’m poor, I can’t afford furniture yet.��
“Can’t you just make it?”
“I can, but I’m sick of making axes to collect wood,” you explain with a grudge against the fact that tools now break in this Animal Crossing game. Jeongguk hums like he’s invested, and he tries to be, because he cares about you too much to unintentionally hurt your feelings by displaying his crippling disinterest.
“Oh. Makes sense.”
“Can I show you my hybrid flower garden?”
He sighs. “Yeah, you wanted to show me all of your island, right?”
You nod enthusiastically. “Once you’ve had a tour, I can make you a profile and you can play too. You can live next door to me!”
“Why can’t we share a house?” Jeongguk presses.
“Because I don’t think it works like that, babe,” you confess. “Anyway. Here’s my garden.”
(10) Sitting in comfortable silence while eating a meal.
He’s tired. You’re tired.
The radio plays quietly updating Seoul on the fires that spread across the city today, and Jeongguk smells like smoke and salt. He keeps his head down as he eats his meal, something he brought home with him to make up for the fact that he’s been absent for almost a week now. You have so many things to say and he has so many things he needs to say to make up for everything, but nothing is said tonight.
You know he’s having a hard time, because Jeongguk’s been smoking again. He smoked on the balcony earlier, and once again in the bedroom. There are now ashtrays around your own apartment, and you don’t even smoke. Jeongguk takes a drink of bourbon and swallows it dry.
You look up at him from across the table, not wanting to press the issue when you know it’ll end in an argument, and then sex to make up for it. You’re both too tired to fuck today, too tired to speak. Just being in each other's company is enough for tonight. The only words he says are goodnight and something you don’t catch as you’re drifting off to sleep. Jeongguk’s awake all night, the fires burn until early hours, and the smoke smell is still there in the morning even when he isn’t.
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anika-ann · 4 years ago
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WINSoD - Pt.3
...from Here on Now
Type: series, soulmate AU series  (part 1, part 2, part 3)  
Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word count: 2810
Summary: In which Steve’s soulmate does something a bit risky that bites her in her ass. Almost. Matt Murdock loses his mind too. A bit.
Warnings: blood and violence, mention of death, brief flashback, language
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Part 2
༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺
The second thought? Oh shit.
No, scratch that – your second thought was ‘Holy shit, Steve has very quick reflexes.’
The same moment the sound reached your ears and shook your very core, you were tackled to the ground and shielded by Steve’s impressive frame, a flash of panic in his bright eyes. He wasn’t losing any time gazing into yours though, assessing the sudden chaos and switching to his Avenger mode in a fraction of second.
Your mind was slower than his, but one thing wormed its way through your brain immediately; yes, it was in fact an army of fucking robots crashing the party, lined up and levitating two feet above the ground.
The fuck-
You suspected that the robots were mind-readers on top of everything, when one of them, bigger than the others, spoke up into the momentary stunned silence, his voice hoarse and rough as if he was smoking two packs of cigarettes a day: “Sorry to crash the party, folks.”
Another beat of silence and the robots rocketed off simultaneously with the first scream that set off a cacophony of horror.
Steve’s voice broke through the eardrum-tearing noise.
“Stay down and get the hell out of here,” he hissed, jumped to his feet in an impressive speed and took off to be the hero he was.
Why was he giving you opposite orders? That didn’t make any- it took you a moment to realize he didn’t mean for you to lie on the floor and make your escape at the same time, just wanted you not to run with your back straightened.
To be fair, you were too dumbstruck by the desperation stuffed into the simple order, carrying so much more meaning than the actual sentence, to have a clear mind.
Run. I don’t care how and where, I don’t care what you need to do to get out of here, but you run and don’t look back. Get to safety, no matter what.
As you crouched, your eyes flickering over the chaos of a room, you caught Tony’s calculating gaze and gave him an inconspicuous nod; a second later, his gaze fell on something else and you followed his line of sight to Pepper. You exchanged a silent conversation and sprang to action.
Here was a thing: Tony Stark was a technical genius.
His trust in his own technology and security systems was immense.
His trust in his own technology and security systems was not unconditional.
Tony Stark was a paranoid bastard of a man, which was something he could bond over with Steve; the Steve after your death that was.
Because of Steve’s paranoia and understandable fear, Natasha had been forced to teach you a bit of hand-to-hand combat. Jarvis had been forced to go over the plans of the Avengers Tower and escape routes for million times with you.
The part Steve was clearly forgetting now was that Tony hadn’t failed to inform you about the two different panic rooms, technology free; or maybe he was just forgetting the part in which he tended to inspire people around him.
In this case it meant there was no way you would park your ass in one of those panic rooms and let the hell that had broken loose rain on everyone else, on people who were as much of civilians as you were.
And Pepper was about to help you.
Steve was about to kill you later, but you would have to live long enough to let him, so that was the least of your concerns.
As the Captain had told you, you did run and tried to stay down. You just happened to pick everyone you could reach on your way and beg them to pass the information about the panic rooms over. You cursed Tony for his fondness of crowds. This would have been much easier if it was the Avengers and close circle only; mostly because nearly everyone would be able to protect themselves and wouldn’t be busy running while the Earth’s mightiest heroes tried to keep the fight away from civilians.
But life wasn’t always easy.
You spotted Tamara’s blond hair in the sea of faces and soon realized she joined you on your mission, clearly having been informed on the panic rooms as well. You saw several people you had barely become familiar with tonight, a pair of charming dorky lawyers among them; you were relieved when you saw the one with longer hair helping his very much blind friend.
Some women were losing their shoes on purpose, some due to being dragged away by the crowd. You fought your way forward, happy you weren’t wearing any killer heels, people following you like a herd; at least the individuals who hadn’t followed Pepper three floors lower.
“End of the hall, come on. Heavy door, no electronic locks. Just open it and squish as many inside as you can,” you urged a responsibly-looking man whose name you couldn’t recall at the moment, but he didn’t seem bothered by it, instantly following the instruction and speeding up to let the others in. You stayed on the corner, making sure everyone headed the right direction in their panic.
The screams were deafening, the influx of people seemingly never-ending and you silently prayed no one had been left behind. You tried very hard not to think about Steve and others fighting fucking robots.
Finally, the last guests ran past you; well, ran as much as they could. You joined the duo of lawyers (an occupancy that somehow got stuck in your mind), of whom one was an ironic representative of the justice being blind.
“You think that was everyone?” you asked, purposely not addressing one or the other. For one, you didn’t want to be rude, but to be honest, you managed to forget their actual names as well.
“Yeah, I hope so. This is insane,” the one with longer hair hurried and maybe it was only your imagination, but he appeared rather calm considering how insane the situation was.
Then again, some might say you were too. You felt like in some sort of a haze; your body was doing things you couldn’t remember ordering it, acting despite your insides clenching, heart so frantic you might as well go into a cardiac arrest. You were thankful for the autopilot mode; running side by side with the two men definitely looked like a good idea, even if you weren’t aware of coming up with it.
Until you were yanked back by your shoulder and the hem of your dress, sent flying and landing on your side.
“Shit,” you hissed as the sharp pain shot through your whole arm, your ribs crying out as well.
Fuck, fuck that hurt. How was Steve doing it, landing like that all the time and almost making it look like fun?!
Not relevant.
Really not relevant right now.
You scrambled away from the mechanical torso hovering above the ground, almost appearing to examine you. Perhaps it was wondering whether you were about to get up? You didn’t want to, FYI. The pain was coming in waves now, pulsating somewhere deep inside of your muscles. Or was it your bones?
The voices at the end of the hall fell silent and you guessed the last people made it to the room. The raging fight in the party space was still rumbling through the walls, vibrating in your chest. Or was it just your heart?
“Well, this is ironic,” the robotic voice you remembered from when the big robot crashed the party hummed.
How the hell did all the robots have the same voice?
NOT RELEVANT.
You pushed up to your feet, ready to either fight or flee, unsure which you had better chances succeeding at.
You doubted you had the slightest chance at either.
“You’re out of luck. Guess the Captain will have to deal with your loss once more.”
The two simple sentences froze you on spot, crushing something deep within you. A memory of a mad smile, of a desperate voice, of fire and agony coursing through your veins turned you into a statue.
‘With your loss.’
With your death. You were gonna die.
There was no fighting off this thing; certainly not with your simple human nature and lame skills.
You felt the uncontrollable tremor in your muscles, your throat closing off with surging panic. You couldn’t even breathe, let alone defend yourself when the mechanical monster with glowing red eyes raised its arm, the sound of charging nearly causing your ears to bleed.
You spotted Bucky with the corner of your eye, but you knew it was too late. He was too far away; no matter how much he sped up, horror having his face lose all colour, he wouldn’t make it, because he carried no long-distance weapon.
You squeezed your eyes shut, curled into yourself and thought of your soulmate, the way he held you when he found out you were alive and with your memories back.
Steve’s heart will break, for real this time, a small voice whispered in the back of your head, and he’s not gonna handle it. You sent a quick mental sorry.
Funny how you thought of him instead of yelling ‘I don’t want to fucking die!’
And the blast was still not coming.
Instead, there was a loud crash that had you snap your eyes open in an instant, only to come face to face with shocked Bucky; with Bucky, who was still several feet away, crossing the remaining distance in an impressive speed.
Another man was engaged in a furious battle of limbs, a punch there, a spin-jump-kick a second after, knocking the heap of components right onto Bucky’s metallic arm; the robot was cut in half, Bucky’s arm going through it like a knife through butter.
What was left of the machine hit the ground with a clatter, the glow in its eyes fading until it died completely.
A man in a cheap suit was standing with his bloody fists raised, facing a very cautious and panting Bucky. You wanted to say thank you to your saviours, but you couldn’t find your voice, still struggling to breathe in.
It wasn’t until a pair of warm brown eyes appeared in front of your face, blindly staring onto your mouth, until your brain rebooted and made the connection along with telling you to how to breathe in.
It was the lawyer. The very much blind lawyer, an incarnation of the famous saying, one of the dorky pair of defenders of justice.
He just saved your life. By fighting the robot like a Bruce freaking Lee.
“What the- the hell just- hap-happened?” you rasped, the palm of your unharmed arm pressed against your ribcage to feel your own heart, your chest expanding with every breath.
Still breathing. Heart still beating. Not dead. Just really fucking scared and confused.
“Yeah. I was wondering the same thing,” Bucky growled, but with an audible trace of gratitude towards the man. His worried gaze fell on you, searching your face as his intimidating fighting stance eased. “But now is not the time. Let’s get you to Steve before he loses his mind. He flipped out when he saw you helping others instead of running off.”
You took a shuddering breath, closing your eyes and letting the sudden absence of the roar of battle wash over you.
“Hey. You’re okay. It’s gone. Can I touch your shoulder? The one that’s not injured,” a voice coaxed you and you mentally catalogued it as the lawyer’s.
A low warning grumble sounded on your right, but you nodded. You tried not to think about how the hell a blind man, who was apparently moonlighting like a ninja, knew about your shoulder pulsing with agony, hence avoided it skilfully, his gentle touch grounding.
“Hmfg. Let’s go. You have a lot explaining to do, Murdock. But thanks.”
Right. Murdock. He had a nice alliteration in his name, you remembered now. Matt Murdock. His friend called himself Foggy Nelson.
“Yeah…” you whispered, fluttering your eyes open and letting the two men lead you towards where the horror had started. “Thank you, Mr. Murdock.”
“You’re welcome, miss.”
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The previously fancy room was a complete mess; furniture in splinters, clothing torn to shreds, glass in shards, mechanics whirling and cracking with electricity, sometimes with sparks flying around. All of that rained with drops of blood.
Your stomach turned over, but you were able to swallow your nausea and fight the vertigo as your name was shouted from across the room, rapid strides of a huge man crossing the distance in seconds.
“Don’t touch-“ Murdock tried to warn Steve, but that man had already made up his mind, pulling you against his chest, arms winded tightly around your body.
You swallowed the cry of sharp pain in order to let him hug you and you breathed in deeply; freshly washed suit, his cologne, sweat, blood and him.
Your arm throbbed in agony, ribs crying out, but your heart was finding its peace despite still racing.
Now you were truly safe.
And Steve was alive and well. All would be good.
“Oh thank God, you’re okay,” he whispered to your mess of hair, his chest heaving. You could feel his heart hammering against your cheek, a prove of the fright you had given him.
“Punk, stop it, you’re going to smother her,” Bucky noted, sighing. “Plus, she was thrown around and did not land exactly gracefully.”
Steve released you in an instant, his face a mask of horror. Funny how Steve was much more expressive than Cap. You always loved it.
His attentive gaze was scanning you from head to toe, finally taking in your tense posture and stiff shoulders.
“What the hell are you talking about? Doll? What happened?!”
You opened your mouth uselessly, struggling to find words to break it to him gently and without freaking him out too much.
Unfortunately, Matt Murdock beat you to speaking. “A robot grabbed her-“
Steve’s eyes widened, assessing your state again, his choked inhale loud enough to hear. You shot Murdock a glare.
“Traitor,” you hissed at your saviour and then turned back to Steve, your uninjured hand laid on his shoulder.  “Mr. Lawyer here took care of it. But yeah, I’ll have a trip to hospital or medical voluntarily. It kinda hurts-“
Steve’s eyes narrowed and you corrected yourself when he wordlessly called out on your bullshit.
“-okay, kinda a lot, but it’s not as bad, considering…“
Steve closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath, only to slowly release it and giving the lawyer a look radiating immense gratitude despite him probably not being able to see it. Which, what the hell, by the way.
“Thank you.”
Matt Murdock only smiled humbly and nodded, at which Steve returned his attention to you. Taking him in, you only thought of four words.
Exhausted.
Serious.
Relieved.
Injured.
He didn’t sustain any life-threatening injuries as far as you could tell, but you did smell and see blood on him and since his opponents had been fucking robots, it was definitely his own blood. There was an angrily-looking gash on his forehead which was not bleeding anymore, few more scratches peeking through his sliced clothes.
Still. He was not unharmed.
“You’re hurt too,” you whispered. Your company clearly decided that it was the right moment to leave you some privacy and went to discuss other things. A game plan, perhaps. What happened in the first place. Oh, and who the hell Matt Murdock was anyway. You only had eyes for Steve now though. “How do you feel?”
His shoulders slumped, careful hand tenderly brushing your cheek, his eyebrow furrowing in concern and indignation.
“Like I can’t decide whether smothering you for not running like your life depended on it – which it did – is an option,” he said honestly, eyeing your injured shoulder.
“That’s fair,” you hummed, not surprised. If he could be sassy though, so could you. “But consider this: I have a great role-model for heroics in my soulmate, so there’s no wonder I tried to help, as pathetically as I did at least.”
His lips parted at the implication of your behaviour being even remotely his fault, but you could tell he was too relieved to be actually mad at you.
“Smothering it is.”
You chuckled, trying not to wince at the tiny motion of your body that sent a fresh wave of pain through you.
“…can I have my arm checked first though? Also, I think you have bigger problems than me coordinating the rescue…”
Steve unwillingly casted a glance to the group of his friends, who all glared at Tony Stark, before looking back at you.
“My biggest problem right now is to get you some medical attention. Then, yes, it does look like I have things to deal with. But remember, doll. You are not off the hook.”
You smiled at him sweetly and kissed his cheek.
“A troublemaker like me? Wouldn’t dream of it…”
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Part 4
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Well. This spiralled quickly, didn’t it? :D Also, I couldn’t resist little Matty in here since I introduced him to Bucky in the previous part of the series ;)
Thank you for reading and for your patience... I know I posted a lot of different stuff before getting to this chapter...
65 notes · View notes
gwentoryfics · 4 years ago
Text
Hot for Teacher, Part 9
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GENRE | College Student x College Professor Smut AU
PAIRING | Reader x Hongseok x Hyunggu (Kino) x Wooseok
WORDS | 13.5k (oops)
SUMMARY | You never realized how much one drunken night could color the rest of your college experience until you discover that the handsome stranger from your cousin’s wedding is also the new professor at your university.
WARNINGS | Swearing. Angggssstttt. Explicit smut. Penetrative sex. Oral sex (female receiving). 
PARTS | 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 5.5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • More Coming Soon
NOTE | This one was so hard to write! Thank you as always for your patience 💕 I’ll be waiting 24 hours to answer any asks you peaches send in so as not to spoil anything for other readers, but please let me know what you think! Also let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list.
TAGS | @day6grams, @heyheydee7, @hhhongseok, @jinjinmyworld, @kkxn0​, @precious-seungwooya​, @seraplantery​, @the-deviant-world​, @yeosang-ponytail​
You wake up in the morning in a bed that’s clearly not your own and a smile comes to your lips when you remember everything that happened last night. You never imagined that you’d have such a crazy night with Yanan and Changgu, but you don’t regret it for one second. You give yourself a moment to stretch before climbing out of Changgu’s bed, noticing the mellow soreness in your muscles.
You slip on your clothes from the party and head out to the common area of the apartment, where Yanan and Changgu are both hard at work in the kitchen. 
“Good morning,” you sing-song, still feeling satisfied from last night.
Both boys turn around and smile at you. Yanan coos, “Morning, sweetheart.”
The pet name sends a tingle through you.
Changgu whisks something in a bowl as he greets you. “I was just about to make some scrambled eggs. Want some?”
“Yes, please.” You smile warmly and plop yourself down on one of the barstools at the kitchen island. 
Yanan prepares a second cup of coffee and places it in front of you. “You’re in awfully high spirits this morning.”
“Yeah, thank you for that,” you raise an eyebrow as you blow on the top of your steaming coffee. Yanan gives you a flirty grin before drinking his own coffee and then peeling off to grab some fresh fruit from the refrigerator. 
Changgu pours the eggs into a frying pan and starts cooking up your breakfast. “Glad to hear you had fun last night. You certainly seemed to be enjoying yourself.”
“It was… great.” There are a million stronger adjectives you could use, such as amazing, incredible, magical, mind-blowing… but you don’t want to boost their egos too much. “Do you guys do this often?”
Changgu shrugs. “It’s sort of an occasional thing. Our tastes in women don’t always overlap, unfortunately. And even if we find someone we’re both interested in, she might not be interested in both of us.”
You hum and nod. It definitely doesn’t seem like something that could just magically fall into place super frequently. But based off of last night, you’re willing to bet that both boys are impressive lovers even on their own. They were each so attentive and responsive, and the amount of aftercare you received when you finally wrapped up the night made the whole night absolutely heavenly.
“So _____,” Yanan leans over the island, pushing a bowl of fruit your way. “I meant to ask last night, but you’re old enough to come out with us to Andy’s next time, right?”
You frown slightly. “Not quite. I just turned twenty, so I technically have another year. Although I do have a fake ID that works just fine as long as there’s no one there to call me out on it.”
He scoffs, clearly remembering the run-in with Professor Yang that ruined the night last time you went out with them. “Yeah, Hongseok really knows how to ruin a good time, doesn’t he?”
“Why do you insist on calling him by his first name?” It catches you off guard every time, especially because the professor has been so explicit about his preferences when it comes to the way students address him. You’re willing to bet that, based on the way he and Yanan interacted and the fact that Yanan uses his first name, they must know each other outside of school. “Do you have something against him?”
Yanan takes a long sip of his coffee before responding. “Perhaps I do. But I’ll tell you this, he sure as hell started it.”
You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Changgu pipes up as he transfers the eggs to a plate. “That’s a pretty big can of worms you’re trying to open.”
“Well you can’t just say something like that and expect me not to be curious! Now I need to know.”
Yanan pulls up a stool. “I went to a different school for a year and a half before transferring here. Washington University.”
You immediately recognize the university as being the most prestigious school in the city. It’s stupid expensive, and it’s really hard to get in. “You went to Washington?”
He nods. “And so did Hongseok. I met him there while he was getting his Masters degree. We both worked in the Mathematics Department office.” Yanan bites down onto a strawberry. “We got along okay, but I wouldn’t say we were ever friends. Our work schedules occasionally overlapped and we were cordial with each other. But one day he heard me bragging to a friend about how I’d slept with my Economics professor to boost my grade. Business school wasn’t for me, so I did what I could to make it a little easier.”
Your eyes widen and you’re struck with something that feels kind of like… panic? “You slept with your professor?”
“I did,” he responds proudly. “And then Hongseok turned me in to the Dean. She got fired and I lost all of my scholarship money, so I transferred. What are the odds that he’d end up over here too?” He chuckles darkly.
Yanan interrupts your train of thought. “I think he was just pissed because he worked so hard and he didn’t think it was fair that I was trying to take the easy way out. To that, I say that nothing in life is fair and he needs to get over himself.”
You try to seem as natural as possible despite the slight discomfort seeping into your bones. “Oh man, I can’t believe you had to transfer because of all that. That basically changed your whole future, right?”
“It did, but I’m not terribly torn up about it.” Yanan dismisses the thought with a wave of his hand. “I had fun with my professor, but I’ve enjoyed my time at this school more than I ever did at Washington. It might be less prestigious, and I might be getting a music degree instead of a business degree, but I didn’t ever have much interest in business anyway.”
You nod slowly, at least glad to hear that Yanan’s doing okay. “You still seem to have a bit of a grudge towards Professor Yang, though.”
“That I do. Not just because he turned me in, though. I don’t particularly like the way he looks down on me all the time. He’s got a real ego problem.”
“You’ve got that right,” you murmur, thinking about the way Professor Yang first confronted you at the beginning of the year, how he assumed you must have been obsessively crushing on him to the point of intentionally seducing him at the wedding. He does seem to be quite a bit self-absorbed.
Changgu speaks up. “What about you, _____? It seemed like you and Professor Yang were pretty familiar with each other.”
And just like that, your ease gives way to mild anxiety. “Oh, I’m just in his class.” You try to brush it off.
Changgu nods, but you’re not really sure that he believes you. He serves you your eggs. “You know, I followed the two of you outside when he insisted on sending you home. Things between you seemed… heated.”
“Mm,” you hum, letting yourself take a bite of your eggs as you scramble to come up with an excuse. “It was just all of the adrenaline from the surprise performance I had to give, you know. And it’s easy to just return his fire with fire, especially because, you know, he’s messed up my grades a few times and I’ve had to have multiple talks with him about that, so like, there’s just tension, you know, but it’s not really a big deal or anything...” Like an idiot you ramble and over-share, just like you always do when you’re put on the spot.
“I see.” Changgu raises an eyebrow.
Yanan’s brow furrows as he tries to comprehend the beans you just spilled. “You’re telling me that Hongseok, the mathematical genius, messed up your grades?”
“Yeah, it’s so stupid, right? I don’t know what his deal is.” You force out an awkward laugh and follow it with a lie to try to soften the damage you’ve done. “It happened with my friend, too... I think he must just get distracted while he’s grading or something. Who knows?”
Yanan seems unwilling to let it go as he presses, “He boosts your grades?”
You nod, completely incapable of thinking through actions or words before letting them happen. “Ah, yeah. But it’s kind of a mix, I guess.”
And then the shittiest grin comes to Yanan’s lips. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Don’t tell me he’s got a thing for you.”
It’s such an easy conclusion to come to, and you led him right to it. Now you’re totally frozen and unsure of how to respond. How are you supposed to answer that?
Changgu comes to your rescue, placing a hand on Yanan’s shoulder as he speaks. “Even if he does, it’s not her fault, and she doesn’t seem particularly comfortable with all of this, so why don’t we let it go? It’s all speculation, anyway.”
“Of course.” Yanan nods curtly, and an uncomfortable silence falls between the three of you.
The irony of this whole situation is not lost on you. If anything happens between you and Professor Yang, he’d be nothing less than a hypocrite now that you know he got Yanan in trouble for the same behavior. And if Yanan were to ever hear about it, you’re not confident that any interest he has in you would overshadow the opportunity for revenge. You’re just collateral damage in his feud with Professor Yang. 
Getting close to these boys might be more dangerous than you originally thought. 
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Monday night rolls around, and you know you should be getting ready to head out for R&B ensemble… but instead you just anxiously pace through your living room, completely unsure if you can work up the courage to see Kino tonight.
You haven’t said a word to each other since your birthday party. He hasn’t even texted to indicate he wanted to walk with you to practice tonight, and you can’t say you blame him. You were kind of a huge dick to him after you kissed. You weren’t really in a good frame of mind to actually talk it through with him at the party, but the longer you wait to talk to him, the less of an excuse you have. You’re completely sober now, and you were yesterday, too. He’s one of your best friends - there’s no reason why you can’t talk to him about this. 
Really you know it’s because, no matter how close you are with him, you’re absolutely terrified about how badly the conversation could go.
You care about Kino so much. You honest-to-God love the kid. But do you care about him romantically? 
You pull your phone out and write out a quick text to Wooseok: Not feeling well, so I’m going to rest tonight. Can you tell teach I’m going to miss practice?
You just can’t work up the nerve to go in tonight.
Wooseok responds: No prob. U need anything?
You: No I’m ok, thank you though.
Wooseok: K. Rest up, short stuff.
Dropping your phone onto the couch, you resort to just jumping up and down because you’re so full of nervous energy. You don’t even want to start thinking about everything that’s transpired between you and Wooseok on top of your situation with Kino. He also hasn’t said much to you since the party, and you can’t help but wonder if it has anything to do with the fact that you ditched your own party to bang Yanan and Changgu.
That shouldn’t have bothered him since you agreed to only be friends, and it’s definitely not a decision you regret making. That night with the two seniors was incredible, even if the morning after took a turn for the worse.
Inevitably, your mind returns to Kino. You let out a low groan and burst into the bedroom where Nailah has been studying.
“Nailahhhhh,” you groan. “I don’t know what to do.”
Nailah holds up a finger and continues reading, and you just stand there jittering in silence while you wait for her to finish. After a solid thirty seconds that feels like five minutes, she snaps her textbook shut and looks up at you. “What’s wrong, boo?” 
“I have to talk to Kino but I don’t want to.”
“About what? The fact that you guys made out?”
You bite your lip and nod. “I haven’t talked to him since the party and I feel awful about it and I know that we need to just have a conversation but I’m terrified about what’ll happen and I honestly don’t even know how I feel?” Words come out of you stupidly fast as you try to express everything that you’re feeling.
She checks her phone, presumably to see what time it is. “Don’t you usually have a class tonight?”
“R&B Ensemble. I’m skipping. Not ready to see Kino yet.”
Nailah gives you a once-over, gets up from her bed, and starts digging through her dresser drawers. “You’ve got too much energy. Let’s go to the gym and work this out.”
“The gym?” Your mind briefly flashes back to the last time you went to the gym with her and you crossed paths with Professor Yang. That’s… potentially less of a problem right now. Hell, seeing Professor Yang working out would probably be a welcome distraction from everything with Kino. So what if he’s there? Besides, Nailah’s right - it would be nice to do something with all of this energy you’ve got right now. “Okay, yeah. Good idea.”
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Nailah sits you down at the bicep curl machine and she squats in front of you while you try to do a few reps. “So talk to me about what happened. I know what I saw, but I want to hear it from you.”
You let out a strained exhale as you pull the handles up towards your chest. “I went out for some air, and Kino came out, and we were dancing to the music and I told him I love him.”
“What?” Her eyes widen.
“I do, though!” You pull up again. “Like the same way I love you, you know? And I think he took it to be something romantic, and then he kissed me. And I kissed him back.”
“Did you like it?”
Pull. “I did. He’s a good kisser.”
“But you’re conflicted.”
“Yeah.” Pull. “Because I don’t know if I like him that way. And I think he might like me that way. And what if I decide that I don’t like him that way, and then it ruins our friendship?”
“Is there a chance you might like him that way?”
You drop the handles. Is there? You think about all of the times you’ve hung out in practice rooms, all of the notes you send each other during class. And then you think about the dance showcase, the feeling of his fingers intertwined with yours, the press of his lips as he kissed your forehead that night. It’s undeniable that your heart beats a little faster as you think about him. “Shit. Maybe?”
“Okay.” Nailah nods. “Maybe isn’t a great answer.”
“I know,” you grumble. “That doesn’t give me any kind of clarity.”
“So just imagine that you talk to him about the kiss, and he tells you he likes you and he might even be interested in dating. How does that make you feel?” Nailah asks, and then she gestures to the machine to encourage you to keep going.
You pull up again. “I feel overwhelmed.”
“Now imagine that instead, he says that he was confused and he didn’t really mean it. He wants to stay friends. How does that make you feel?”
“...less overwhelmed.”
“That says a lot, doesn’t it?”
“But what if I’m only overwhelmed because it’s different, not because I dislike it?” Pull harder. “What if I’m less overwhelmed by staying friends just because that’s what I’m used to?”
“Well that’s something you’re going to have to examine. I don’t have the answer to that.” Nailah stands, crossing her arms over her chest.
You huff loudly, letting go of the bar again. “Why is this so difficult?”
“Are you telling me that you’re surprised that you don’t know what you want? Sweetie, indecision is your middle name,” she teases. “You made out with Kino and then slept with two other guys all in the same night. And don’t even get me started on whatever the hell is going on between you and that Wooseok kid.”
You feel your cheeks grow warm from embarrassment. “What do you mean? Why are you bringing up Wooseok?”
“I’m not dumb, _____. You’ve obviously got something going on with him. So ‘fess up.”
“Can I switch machines first?”
Nailah stands and gestures for you to come along. You sit side by side at two leg press machines, and you try not to feel intimidated by the amount of weight she sets on her machine. Once you’re both settled in, she looks over at you expectantly.
“So…” You try to figure out where to start, and then you decide you just need to dish the whole story. Besides, he’s already told Yuto about all of it, so you should get to have a confidante, too. “I offered to tutor him in music theory because he was struggling, and it was totally fine. Then one night he invited me over to his place when I was feeling particularly… feisty… and we got drunk and made out.”
“Ah, the Queen of Bad Decisions strikes again.” Nailah chuckles. “Continue.”
Her comment makes you roll your eyes, but it feels good that she’s so lighthearted about it. “So then we talked about it later and decided that we both would be okay with, like, occasionally hooking up in a totally casual way.”
She nods slowly. “You know, if I remember correctly, I believe I actually suggested you try hooking up with him, didn’t I?”
“Sure did,” you acknowledge with a flat tone, remembering the lunchtime conversation you had that feels like forever ago.
“And how long has this been going on?”
“Maybe like… a month and a half?”
“Okay, okay.” Nailah just keeps nodding. “Obviously I approve, but it’s also important that you feel comfortable with your choices and you’ve got a lot going on right now.”
It feels good to get all of this off of your chest. So good, in fact, that you contemplate filling her in on everything regarding Yanan and Professor Yang as well. But at this point nothing is happening between you and him, so there’s really no reason to talk about it. “You’re right. There’s just… a lot to think about.”
“Maybe Thanksgiving break will be good for you. You can head home, spend some time with your family, and avoid all of these boys for a long weekend. That might give you the time you need to clear your head and figure out what you want.” She pushes the machine with her legs, thigh muscles impressively bulging.
“Yeah. That’ll be nice.” You really are looking forward to heading home in a few days. It’ll be so nice to see Minseo again and get a break from all of the drama you’ve managed to create for yourself. “Can we be done here, now? You know I can’t match your stamina.”
Nailah laughs and gives one last push. “Sure, sweetie. Let’s head home.”
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Even though working out with Nailah and talking it over with her helps you feel a little more at ease, it still doesn’t prepare you for the phone call you receive when you’re back at the apartment. 
Your phone lights up as it vibrates, the name City Boy pulling up on the screen.
“Nailah, he’s calling me.” You panic.
“Well answer it.” Nailah encourages you. “Now’s as good a time as any to talk it out.”
You almost let it go to voicemail, but at the last second you swipe to answer. Awkwardly, you say, “Heyyy! Kino, hey. What’s up?”
“Hey, _____.” He sounds incredibly mellow. “Are you feeling alright? Wooseok said you’re sick.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Just… just had a headache, that’s all.” You rub your forehead as you try to figure out what to tell him, and you duck into the bedroom to have a private conversation. “Thanks for checking in on me, though.”
“Of course.” Pause. “Um, so you’re probably home right now, right?”
“Mhm. Just resting,” you lie.
“Flash your light for me. I’m in my room, too.”
You do as he asks, and then you sit on the floor by your floor-to-ceiling window and look for his signal. Once you spot his room, you say, “Found you.”
Kino waves gently up at you, and you wave back. Then he clears his throat and runs his hand through his hair. “So I guess the reason I actually called is because I kind of had the feeling you might be avoiding me, and I know it’s not even a big deal because it’s only been, like, two days that we haven’t talked, and it’s totally understandable that you might want some space, but I just felt so bad that you didn’t come to rehearsal tonight and I don’t want you to avoid things you love because of me.”
You wait until he gets it all off of his chest, sitting quietly while you try to figure out how to respond. 
“I’m really sorry, _____. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that when we were both kind of out of it. And now I’m just terrified that I messed up so badly that I’m going to lose you completely, and I can’t stand the thought of it.”
“Kino…” 
“You don’t have feelings for me, do you?”
You can hear the reservation in his voice. This is terrifying territory for both of you. You take a deep breath and respond as honestly as you can. “I don’t know. I care about you a lot, but I’m not sure yet if any of it is romantic.” He doesn’t respond right away, so you ask, “What about you? Do you have feelings for me?”
Kino sighs quietly. “Actually, I don’t know, either. I might. But if that’s not what you want, I can absolutely squash that so we can keep being friends. That’s the most important thing to me.”
You sit quietly for a moment. “I think I need time. I’ve just never really thought about you that way, but then after you kissed me… I don’t know. I’m really sorry that I’m so confused by all of this. I really wish I could give you a straight answer.”
“It’s okay.” Kino’s voice is warm. “You don’t have to push yourself in one direction or the other. We can just sit on it for a little bit, and maybe talk about it after break once you’ve had some time to think?”
“That sounds like a good idea,” you respond softly, grateful that he’s not pushing you for an answer one way or the other.
“But I guess one thing I’d like to know now is, are we still friends?” 
“Yes! Of course we are,” you respond without hesitation. “No matter what we decide, we’ll stay friends at the very least.”
“Okay good.” He smiles up at you from his window. “You’re going home for break, right?”
“Mhm, I’m taking the train out on Wednesday night,” you say. “What about you? Are you visiting your family?”
“Yeah. I don’t really want to, though.”
Based on past conversations with Kino, and the emotional performance he choreographed for the showcase, you’ve pieced together how he doesn’t have a great relationship with his parents. But you’ve never gotten the full story. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Kino sighs. “It’s just hard to be around my parents. My mom is emotionally abusive and my dad doesn’t do anything to stop it. If I were an only child, there’s no way in hell I’d go back there for Thanksgiving. But I miss my sisters and I need to make sure they’re doing alright.”
“I’m really sorry to hear that. I think your sisters are really lucky to have a brother like you.”
“Thanks. I feel guilty enough that I even went to college in the first place, and I know I don’t visit home as often as I should. It was easier for me to protect my siblings when I still lived there, but I was also at my wit’s end. I can’t tell you how much better I’ve felt since starting college, as long as you don’t count the guilt of abandoning my siblings.”
“You have to look out for yourself, too, though. If you had stayed home and taken all the blows, what kind of life would you be making for yourself? If your sisters are anything like you, then I know they’re kind-hearted and strong, and they’ll make it out of the house too when it’s their turn.”
Kino sniffs, and you wonder if he’s crying. He’s just far enough away that it’s hard to tell. “You’re right.”
“You should invite your sisters to hang out with us sometime. We could all go do karaoke together or something.”
“I’m sure they’d love that! That would be really fun.” Kino sounds a little lighter now. “Thanks, _____. I’ve been so stressed about my family situation since I know I’m going home this week, and talking to you really helps me feel better.”
“Of course! What are friends for?”
“I need to get going, but there was actually one more thing I wanted to ask you about.”
“Go for it.”
“Can you be honest with me about Wooseok? You two just got so close so fast, and it’s not like that’s a problem or anything, but… do you like him? Are you two a thing? Because I’ve been suspicious for a while and I think knowing if there’s something going on between you two will help me figure out what I’m feeling.”
Your heart drops into your stomach. Why are you so afraid to be honest with him about it? At this point you’ve denied it quite a few times around him, and it sounds like he doesn’t fully believe you. So you really have no choice but to tell him the truth. 
He continues. “Do you remember the night you got drunk with him and then crashed at my place? You told me about what you two did, and I just… I want to know if it happened again.”
You swallow hard, and then spit it out. “We’re just friends, but we’ve slept together a few times.”
“Ah.” Kino sounds disappointed. “And you don’t have any feelings for him?”
“I don’t.” You adamantly respond, but even as you say the words you’re not positive they’re the truth. So you say, “I mean, I don’t think I do.”
“Got it. Well thank you for telling me. I have to get going though, so I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
You’re surprised by how abruptly he excuses himself from the conversation, but you don’t really feel like you’re in a place to ask him to stay. “Okay. Talk to you later.”
He hangs up without saying goodbye, and you can tell that must have hurt him. You had no choice but to be honest, because it’s time you start facing your messes - even if it creates new ones in the process. But as you flop back onto your bed, you realize that Kino’s response speaks volumes about how he actually feels about you.
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Anxious, you check the time on your phone again. Shinhye should be here by now, but she’s nowhere to be seen. It’s just you at the bus stop. You decide to call her just to make sure she’s actually coming.
She answers on the third ring. “Hey, _____…”
“Shinhye, are you coming? We’re going to be so late to Professor Yang’s exhibit.” You bounce on the balls of your feet as if that will help keep you warm.
“I don’t think I can make it, actually, I think I’m coming down with something. I just really don’t feel well.”
“Oh no! I’m sorry,” you pout. “That sucks. Well get lots of rest then, okay?”
“I will.” Shinhye sighs. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, I just, like, took a nap and I thought that I set an alarm, but apparently I didn’t.”
“It’s totally okay. I’ll see if someone else can go with me. You just get better.”
“I’ll do my best,” she chuckles lightly. “I’ll see you later.”
“See you.”
You hang up and frown. You were really hoping she’d come with you today. Professor Yang had announced in class this morning that he’s got an exhibit tonight, and anyone who attended would get extra credit for the class. You’re genuinely interested in seeing more of the instruments he’s made, so you’re excited to go. You just don’t know if you want to go alone.
You could call Kino, since he’s usually your go-to guy whenever you need a companion, but you still feel weird about the way the conversation ended last night. It would probably be awkward for the two of you to make the trip together.
And there’s Wooseok… Maybe you should give him a ring. Things have also been a little off with him since the party, but it feels easier to ignore that weirdness than the tension between you and Kino. You go ahead and give him a call.
“_____! Heyyyy,” Wooseok drawls. “I miss you.”
“You miss me?” You laugh quietly, immediately recognizing the boozed-up drawl of his voice. “Or are you just drunk?”
He gasps. “How did you know?”
“Wooseok, it’s a Tuesday night. What are you doing getting hammered?”
“My morning class tomorrow got canceled because of TURKEY DAY WOOOOOOOO- OH SHIT-”
You hear a crash of glass, and your eyes widen. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, totallyyyy- totally fine. It’s fine. I just dropped my cup, but it’s fine. I was talking to you so I got distracted.”
“Is Minho there?”
“No, he went home already. Can you come over? I wanna see you.”
“I can’t right now, I have somewhere to be. But if you put the alcohol away and just drink water for the rest of the night, I think I can come over later.”
“Yes, ma’am. Gotta drink that water. I can do that.” 
“Good,” you laugh. “Be careful, okay? And don’t try to pick up the broken glass with your hands. Just sweep it off to the side and we’ll clean it up later.”
“Why do you sound like my mom?” 
“Because that’s what you need right now,” you laugh. “I’ll text you later, okay?”
“Okay. You’re great. Bye.”
You hang up. That was a bust. After a few minutes you still can’t think of anyone else you’d want to invite. But then the bus arrives and you decide that you’d rather just be on your way than try to find another person to come with.
It’s a long ride, and you’re later than you wanted to be. By the time you arrive, you pass a few other students from your class on their way out. Actually, the whole place looks pretty empty. Did you miss it?
The door is unlocked, so you let yourself in, the little bells on the handle jingling to signal your arrival. In a matter of seconds, Professor Yang’s head pops out from around a corner.
“Hey, we’re actually clo… oh, hi.” When he sees you, his eyes widen a little, made all the more obvious by the round frames that sit atop his nose. You've never seen him in glasses before, and it's a good look for him. But he could pull off literally anything, so you’re not surprised.
Still, you frown, feeling like you really wasted your time hauling ass the whole way up to the north side just to arrive as soon as it's ending. You should have just gotten on the earlier bus instead of waiting for Shinhye. “Shit, I knew I was running late, but I didn’t think I was going to miss the whole thing.”
Professor Yang steps out into the exhibit room, pulling back the sleeves of his deep blue sweater. “It’s okay, I’m not going to kick you out.” 
“It sounded like you were about to,” you joke, trying to make light of the situation.
“Yeah, but you’re…” Professor Yang looks for a brief moment like he’s having difficulty deciding how to qualify you. “...my student.”
“I am,” you respond awkwardly. “Um, I know you were going to give us extra credit for being here, but you don’t have to do that since it's clearly over.”
He glances at the watch on his wrist. “If you let me show you around and tell you about some of the instruments for, like, fifteen minutes, I can give you credit.”
“That sounds good to me." You smile, but unfortunately your stupid ass can't just leave it there. You tack on, "Teach me, Professor.” And you laugh awkwardly, immediately regretting everything.
He chuckles, possibly out of politeness, and leads you to the first guitar on display. “You’re already familiar with this one. She’s the one I keep in my office.”
“I remember,” you admire the gorgeous instrument as you slip your coat off, already getting warm now that you're indoors. “She’s the reason why I was so excited to see what else you’ve built.”
“She’s one of my best, so don’t be too disappointed in the others,” he laughs.
As he walks through the exhibit with you, he speaks in detail about each of his creations. He explains to you how he decides what type of wood to work with, and his process for cutting and shaping the instruments. His collection is mostly guitars - some twelve-strings and classical guitars included - as well as ukuleles and mandolins. Although he suggested he’d only take up fifteen minutes of your time, he speaks with you about his instruments for well over an hour, and you soak up all of the information he’s willing to share with you. 
During your tour, you notice more than a few empty instrument stands. “Why are some missing?”
“I sold them,” he explains. “Part of the purpose of this exhibit was to sell some of the instruments I’ve built, and the other part was to get commissions. I was successful in both parts.”
“That’s amazing! Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” He beams. “I’m eager to start working on the new projects.”
“Where do you do your building? Do you have all the tools at home?”
He shakes his head. “Definitely not. I rent a workshop space. Or if I’m able, I’ll try to do some work in the shop we use for class.” With another glance at his watch, he takes a deep breath. “Anyway, I’m sorry for talking your ear off. It’s getting late so I should really start getting packed up.”
“Oh, it’s like over over?”
“Yeah, tonight was the last of two nights. So I have to clean up, close up, and get the keys back to the shop owner first thing tomorrow morning.”
Without thinking, you offer, “I can help."
“Nonsense. I won’t make you do that.”
“You have a lot of instruments, it’ll be a lot faster if you just let me help. I don’t mind it. Honestly.”
He surveys you, angling his body directly at you for the first time all night - not that you're hyper-aware of his body language or anything. “Alright. Let’s go get the cases.”
You bring the custom-made soft cases from the back out into the exhibit space. He has them organized well, so it’s easy to find which instruments belong in which cases. In no time, you’ve got them all cased up and ready to go.
Carrying a few instruments at a time, you walk with him through the back door to the small parking lot - only three spaces available behind the building. He walks up to the dinkiest little Nissan and manually unlocks the front door, pulling a lever on the floor to pop open the trunk.
“Wow,” you can’t help but laugh. “I didn’t expect you to drive such an old-looking car.”
“Yeah, I’ve had this thing for forever. I have other more important things to put my money towards.” He lifts one of the guitars he holds, making it clear that his luthier hobby preoccupies most of his funds. 
Together, you make a few trips to grab all of the instruments and load up his car, carefully placing each instrument into the trunk and back seat. Once he’s packed, you check your phone for the next bus time. The next bus isn’t for half an hour, and you frown. The damn thing is always running late anyway, so you know it’ll take much longer than thirty minutes.
“How are you getting home?” He asks, as if reading your mind.
“The bus. It’s not too far from here. I should probably head out, actually. Don’t want to miss it.” Even though you know the bus won’t show up for a while, you intentionally excuse yourself with a lie. It’s best that you just head on out.
Professor Yang checks his trusty watch yet again. “I’ll give you a ride.”
Your eyes widen. That’s the complete opposite of what should happen right now. “No, no, it’s okay. I don’t want to inconvenience you. I take the bus all the time and it’s really not a big deal. Plus it drops off right across from my dorm so it’s actually really convenient for me.”
He shakes his head, unwilling to accept it. “It’s late, it’s cold out, and this isn’t a great neighborhood. Even if it were warmer out, I still couldn’t let you stand around out here by yourself.”
You’re hesitant to accept, although a car ride does sound pretty nice. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
He nods confidently. “You’ve shown that you can be mature about our relationship, so I think this is something we can both comfortably handle.”
It’s a weird compliment, but you’ll take it. You really have been trying hard to just let things be normal between the two of you, and it seems to be going okay. And then you have an idea - as in an attempt to prove just how normal everything is, you ask him, “Do you need extra hands to help unload at your place? You’ll have to make a million trips by yourself. Since we’re... okay with each other and everything, it shouldn’t be a problem, right?”
He takes a moment to think. “I suppose it would be helpful.”
“Cool. We’ll just unload and then I can probably catch a bus from there. Maybe a taxi if you’re close enough to downtown that it won’t cost me a fortune.” 
“I can still drive you the rest of the way,” he insists.
“Yeah, but wouldn’t it be weird if other students at the dorm saw me getting out of your car? They might get the wrong idea.”
“I’ll drop you off a block away, then.”
“Fine,” you concede. Somehow it feels like you’ve won. Profesor Yang didn’t seem to think it was possible that the two of you could look past the one night you spent together and just get along normally, yet here you are making totally regular plans to just be in each others’ presence with absolutely no tension or weirdness whatsoever. That’s a success in your book.
You hop in on the passenger’s side. The inside of the car looks about as nice as the outside, and you suppress your giggle. It shouldn’t be so funny to you that an all-business guy like Professor Yang could still drive some piece of junk car. It’s kind of endearing that he’s so… normal. 
And then he gets in, turns on the car, and does the fucking dad thing - the thing where he puts the car in reverse, places a hand on the back of your seat, and completely fucking twists around to look out the back instead of just using the mirrors.
“Oh my God,” you can’t control your laughter.
Professor Yang throws a weird look your way as he backs out of the parking space. “What are you laughing at?”
“You really are an old man. You know, they give you mirrors for a reason. You should be careful twisting your back like that, you’re going to pull something in your old age, what with that frail, old-man body you’ve got.” You snicker, mimicking an elderly person with lower back pain.
“What are you talking about?” His eyes widen and he brakes, his hand still on your seat as he faces you. “First of all, I’m not even thirty yet, so cut it out. And I’m not going to address what you just said about my body because we both know that’s not even close to the truth.”
You ignore the fact that he very clearly, possibly intentionally, just reminded you that you quite intimately know what his body is like. You ignore the fact that the way he’s posed is actually really hot because of how his jacket hangs open and his sweater pulls tightly across his muscled chest. You ignore the fact that it would be so easy for him to lean over the console and kiss you. 
You swallow hard. There are a million red flags, but you ignore them all. Remember that he’s completely over you.
“Okay but you did just address it by saying that,” you say, trying to sound unaffected.
“Come on, I can’t just let you talk about me that way. It’s a lot of work to stay this fit and here you are calling me frail and old like you’re not-” He bites his tongue. 
“Like I’m not what?” Into it? Attracted? Drooling about it every time you picture him shirtless?
“I was going to say, ‘like you’re not walking around in a twelve-year-old’s body,’ but then I decided that would just be mean.” 
Your face heats up. You really shouldn’t be talking about bodies with him right now. Not when he just said that the two of you are mature enough to just be normal with each other. It’s so tempting to remind him how not prepubescent your body is, but you finally use some good judgment and decide to watch your words. “It’s just as mean as me calling you old, so it’s only fair.”
“I guess so.” Professor Yang laughs quietly, and then he falls silent. Maybe he’s fighting the same battle as you, trying not to picture you under him. Or maybe he actually has his shit together and this isn’t an issue for him. 
For once, he finally trusts you to be normal around him. You can’t blow it.
As you drive through the city, you tune into the rock music coming from his stereo. And the music selection is so ironic it fucking hurts.
“Don't want to be no uptown fool Maybe I should go to hell, but I'm doin' well, Teacher needs to see me after school...
“I think of all the education that I missed But then my homework was never quite like this Ow got it bad, got it bad, got it bad, I'm hot for teacher I got it bad, so bad, I'm hot for teacher...”
You just sit there in wide-eyed terror as Van Halen streams from the speakers, and it takes Professor Yang a minute too long to realize what’s playing. He sucks in a quick breath when he notices, and scrambles to change the station. 
He settles on another rock station that’s currently playing Def Leppard, and you try to make light of the situation. “Do you only have rock stations programmed on here?”
Professor Yang clears his throat and tries to relax back in his seat, casually gripping the bottom of the steering wheel with one hand. “I just have a favorite genre, don’t act like you’re any different. I’m sure I could probably guess what you’re listening to.”
“Go ahead, then.” You laugh. “What do you think is the last song I played on my phone?”
His lips press into a line as he thinks. “Okay, this is somewhat of an educated guess. I’m going to go with “Superstitious” by Stevie Wonder.”
“Solid choice, but that’s not it.” You don’t actually remember what you were listening to earlier, but you know it wasn’t Stevie Wonder. 
“Plug your phone in, then. Let’s hear it.” He fishes out the aux cord, holding it out to you. 
“Oh man,” you laugh as you pull out your phone. “You’re really gonna slam me if I’ve got something stupid pulled up.”
“That’s the point. I’m testing your taste.”
It feels like he’s in exceptionally high spirits tonight. Maybe it’s because the exhibit went so well. Whatever the case, it helps you feel lighter. You plug in the phone and open your music - and luckily you’ve got a damn good song ready to go.
“You know The Emotions?” You ask him.
“Sounds familiar.”
You press play, and “Best of My Love” picks up somewhere in the middle.
“Oh, I think I know this song!” He pipes up. “Wow, I haven’t heard this in forever.”
“It’s so good! One of my favorites, actually.” 
“Demonstrating free love and affection That you give so openly The way I feel about you, baby, can't explain it Want the whole wide world to see Oh, woah You’ve got the best of my love...”
You force yourself to avoid looking over at him as you listen to the lyrics, realizing just how terrible this song choice actually is given the history between the two of you. But still, it’s a little less applicable than Van Halen, so you leave it on. You just remind yourself yet again that you’re over him, and he’s over you. Whatever’s going on between you now is totally, completely normal and regular and fine.
As you both quietly listen to your music, you wonder what’s going on in Professor Yang’s head. Eventually he speaks up, and it’s a completely different topic.
“I’m excited to see how your dulcimer turns out,” he says simply.
“Me too. I feel pretty good about it.”
“I’m impressed with what you’ve done so far. I think it’ll sound quite nice once it’s finished.” He makes a right turn, sparing a glance your way. “The true test will be part of your final.”
“What do you mean?”
“For the last day of class, you’ll have to write and perform a minute-long piece on your instrument.”
You squint skeptically “Don’t you think you’re giving me a bit of an advantage by telling me that now?”
“Do you know how to play a dulcimer?”
“No.”
“Do you have access to one that you could practice on?”
“No.”
“Then no, I don’t think you’re getting an advantage. I’m going to tell everyone else about the assignment next week. They’ll all have just as much time to prepare as you.”
You suppose that makes sense and he isn’t actually giving you any kind of benefit, but you can’t help thinking of all of the bogus grade adjustments you’ve had to confront him about. It sits with you weirdly, and you struggle to decide whether you should say anything about it.
Eventually you reach your destination. He lives in a cute little neighborhood on the north side in one of those little houses that has been converted into apartments. There aren’t any open parking spots on the street in front of his place, but he manages to find a spot on the next block. 
As he parallel parks, he turns around in his seat again to look out the back. And this time when he twists, he hisses and grabs his back like he’s in pain. “Ah, so old…”
It’s incredibly obvious that he’s faking because he’s a terrible actor, and you laugh. “This is why we have mirrors.”
He laughs with you and finishes pulling into the space. You both hop out and grab a few instruments from the back, and you let him lead the way down the sidewalk.
Professor Yang pauses at the door while he fishes for the right key. “I should warn you, I have a cat. Are you allergic?”
“Nope,” you smile. “I love cats!”
“He can be a little shy so he might not say hello.” He opens the main door and holds it open for you to step inside. You’re confronted with two more doors - one straight ahead and one to the right. He slips past you to unlock the one in front of you. He flips the light switch, illuminating the full length of the wooden staircase that heads directly up into his apartment. “Sorry to make you go up and down so many stairs. If you want, you can just stay down here and I’ll do all the heavy lifting.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” you scoff. “I’m here to help. I’m not just going to stand around and watch.” You confidently cross the threshold into his apartment, taking the literal first step into his personal life. You feel kind of nervous about coming inside, but you suck it up. This is only a big deal if you make it one, and you refuse to do that.
The stairs drop you off at a hallway that stretches off to your left, and an open kitchen and living room area is off to the right. You can’t see too much of it because the lights over there are still turned off, but you can see the tall window-doors that lead to the balcony outside.
“You can drop them off in the living room. Don’t worry about taking shoes off since we’re just heading back out again anyway.” He comes up behind you and flips another light, illuminating the living room and kitchen.
You do as he instructs, placing the instruments against the wall in the living room. The room is minimally decorated with a nice couch, a single armchair, and two large bookcases filled to the brim with books - save for the one shelf that is packed with vinyl records. It doesn’t surprise you to see so many books and records - he seems like he’s very well-read, and he’s enough of a music lover that of course he’d enjoy listening to records.
As much as you want to check out his collection, you know that you shouldn’t explore his apartment. You’re here to unload his instruments. That’s it.
You force yourself to turn away from the bookshelves and vaguely gesture towards the stairs. “Shall we?”
It takes a few trips, but eventually you get all of the instruments inside. All the while you’re incredibly aware of how close he is when he holds the doors open for you, or how damn cute the back of his head is when you’re following him down the stairs. You hate it - how can the back of a head be cute?
Over and over, you remind yourself: I’m over him. I’m over him.
You set down the last guitar with a small sigh. “I can’t imagine you having to do all of this by yourself. I’m glad I came to help.”
“I could have handled it, but thank you for your assistance.” Professor Yang steps into the kitchen. “Do you need anything to drink before I take you home?”
“Oh, no, thank you.” You shake your head, not wanting to impose. “Um, but can I use your restroom?”
“Sure. It’s the second door down the hall.” He gestures around the corner.
You follow his directions. When you’re finished peeing and washing your hands, you notice a pretty blue cologne bottle sitting on his counter. You pick it up and sniff it. Sure enough, it’s exactly the cologne you remember smelling on him. It’s absolutely delicious, and against your better judgment, you spritz it once on the inside of your jacket, zipping it up to lock in the scent and hopefully keep him from noticing the weird-as-fuck thing you just did.
When you come out of the bathroom, you head back towards the kitchen, but just then he comes out of his bedroom, startling you and nearly bumping into you.
“Oh!” You shout as you jump backwards, laughing. “Sorry.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you.”
“It’s okay.” You brush it off.
He sniffs the air, and that’s when you know you fucked up. “Did you spray my cologne?”
You bite your lip, knowing there’s no point in lying. “I did.” He looks at you questioningly, so you fill in the gaps. “It just smells really good. I’m sorry.”
Professor Yang just watches you, and you’re fully aware of what a terrible idea it was to spray his cologne. And also what a terrible idea it was for you to even step foot into his apartment, let alone get in a car with him.
The rapid beating of your heart tells you that you’re still not over him. You don’t want to be over him.
What are you doing here? Why did you let yourself get to this point? 
You need to leave. You need to turn around and get yourself out of this mess. But for some reason, you’re completely captivated by his gaze, frozen in place and entirely unable to save yourself from the impending disaster.
It’s been far too long since he’s said anything, and you’re dying to know what’s going on in his head. “What are you thinking right now?”
Too honestly, he responds, “It’s a bad idea for me to answer that question.”
“That answer makes it so much worse. What am I supposed to assume you’re thinking when you say that?”
“Maybe you shouldn’t assume anything.”
“I wouldn’t have to if you just answer my question.”
He huffs. “I’m thinking that you shouldn’t have come here. That you’re only twenty. That I can’t trust myself to…”
“Hm?” You hum, encouraging him to finish his sentence.
“I can’t trust myself to make good choices around you.”
Your heart beats wildly in your chest. Is he struggling just as much as you? Is he feeling the same pull of temptation, knowing that you’re all alone in his apartment, literally steps away from his bedroom? You have to be careful about what you say. “You’ve been doing a great job so far.”
“Why are you here?”
It’s obvious that he’s questioning your intentions, just like he did the first time he realized you were in his class. “I swear I just came to help with your instruments. I’m not trying to be sneaky.”
“Right.” Professor Yang’s lips press into a tight line, and you’re dying to know what’s going on inside his head.
It feels like he’s faltering. Like he’s holding your gaze for too long, keeping you in this apartment longer than you should be. You can’t help but feel responsible for getting yourself out of this before you both make a mistake.
But… part of you doesn’t want to stop this moment, doesn’t want to break free from whatever trap you’re falling into. 
“I don’t know what to do.” You don’t think carefully enough about your words. “It feels like… we’re already keeping a secret. One more won’t make a difference.”
“You know damn well that the secret isn’t the issue. You’re my student. That’s the issue. It’s morally wrong.” Even as he speaks, you can feel that he doesn’t totally stand behind his words. Like he’s trying to convince himself that it would be wrong to act on whatever he’s feeling right now.
You remember everything Yanan told you about how Professor Yang has always had a rock-solid stance against teacher-student relations… But it seems like he could be questioning his own morality. If he really wants to shut this down, he could just break out of this moment and head for the car, drive you home and forget this even happened.
But he doesn’t.
It’s painfully silent between you - no one wants to make a move, no one wants to withdraw. You're desperate to just talk about all of this, but you're terrified of what could happen if you speak. You’re just stuck in this awkward limbo of not knowing what’s going to happen next.
You want so badly to reach out to him. To pull him close and feel him. You wonder what he’d be like as a lover now that you’re no longer strangers. It would be so easy for you to find out…
You take one small step towards him as a small sign that you’re open and willing, academia be damned. Professor Yang’s lips part ever so slightly as he scans your face, but he doesn’t back away.
Suddenly, there’s a noise in the kitchen, and you jump away from Professor Yang as if you’ve been caught - but it’s just his cat spilling its food all over the kitchen floor. 
Still, that cut in the tension is enough to pull you out of the moment and help you clear your head. This is bad, and you need to leave. You refuse to look at him as you mutter, “I need to go.”
The second you try to pass him to hurry down the stairs, he turns and reaches out, grabbing you by the wrist and stopping you in your tracks. The heat of his hand sears your skin.
“What are you-”
Before you can finish your question, Professor Yang pulls you into him, wraps an arm tightly around you, and presses one long, powerful kiss to your lips. 
Your whole body lights up from head to toe. It’s an adrenaline rush like no other, a hit of the drug you were hopelessly addicted to that one summer night. This is exactly what you’ve been craving - his strong arms and soft lips remind you just how badly you’ve wanted his touch.
When he breaks the kiss, he presses his forehead to yours, breathing shakily. “Why can’t I get you out of my head?” And in that moment, it’s shockingly clear to you that he’s struggling with all of this just as much as you are. 
God, you’re so done for. This man completely owns your heart. Without a doubt, you’re a complete and total sucker for him. And it’s frighteningly easy for you to own up to that, as you say the most dangerous thing you could possibly say: “You don’t have to, Hongseok.”
His jaw visibly clenches when you say his name, and his voice is strained when he finally speaks. “Tell me again that you need to leave. Tell me to drive you home right now.”
“If I don’t?” You challenge.
“Then there’s no reason why I shouldn’t keep you here.” Hongseok swallows thickly. “So tell me I should take you home.”
Your pulse is through the roof as he pulls back and your eyes lock, and you know that you’re way too impulsive to do as he asks. You’ve been pining after this man for months, and here he is, kissing you and practically admitting that he feels the same way. You can’t just go home now.
“I don’t want to go home.” You grab onto the hem of his sweater and tilt your chin upwards, inviting him to kiss you again. “I only want you.”
This feels nothing like the night you met him, when he was playful and sure of himself. It’s like you can sense all of the weight he’s carried with him over the last few months. His eyes scan over your face, and you get to see the slightest smile on his lips before he finally leans in to close the gap.
Just like that, you get everything you’ve wanted from him. Hongseok’s lips are just as plush as you remember and you completely melt into the kiss, and his rough hands cup your face. You feverishly return each kiss, grabbing fistfuls of his sweater and pulling him towards you. Your nose bumps the rim of his glasses, but you don’t mind it one bit.
Hongseok kisses you like his life depends on it. He yanks your jacket off of your shoulders, tossing it onto the ground as he backs you into his bedroom. Every time he cups your cheek or grabs your waist, you feel like you could just shatter in his hands. 
You’re finally getting your fix and you love it. 
His passion is explosive as he kisses you, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you in close. The strength and heat of him surprises you, as if your body has forgotten what it’s like to be with him. His lips are so soft and warm, and you’re swallowed whole by your insatiable lust for him.
You slip your hands under the hem of his sweater, desperate to feel his skin. You can feel every defined muscle as you drag your fingers across his back, and you moan quietly against his mouth when you feel his hand reach down to squeeze your ass.
Pleasure shoots through you with every small contact. His breath mingles with yours and gives you life, each kiss keeping your heart beating happily in your chest. Everything just feels so damn good. 
You both stumble towards his bed, tearing at each others’ clothes until you finally get that sweater off of him and he gets you out of your top as well. The backs of your legs bump into the edge of his bed right before he pushes you back onto the comforter. You fall onto your back, and he leans over you, his mouth latching onto your neck as his hand fiddles with the button of your jeans.
You drag your fingers through his silky hair, and you feel him suck deeply on the skin at the base of your throat. It’s just strong enough to hurt a little, and you dig your nails into his back. “Oh my God,” you moan, absolutely possessed with lust as he marks you.
Hongseok yanks off your pants, and releases you so that he can unfasten his own. You prop yourself up on your elbows to watch as he unclothes himself, his round glasses still perched on the bridge of his nose. He is just breathtakingly gorgeous.
There’s so much you want to ask him - was it hard for him to see you in class? Has he been thinking of you this whole semester? But you don’t ask any of those things, because you’re terrified to draw attention to your academic relationship. Sleeping with your professor is obviously the wrong choice to make, but you honestly couldn’t give a shit about any of that right now. It’s almost thrilling for you to know that you’re doing something you shouldn’t - but if you remind Hongseok of that, there’s a chance he’s not on the same page.
Hongseok smiles at you with that drop-dead gorgeous grin he has, and you know that at least right now he’s content to have you like this, spread out on his bed and waiting for him to finish getting naked. And that’s enough for you to decide to let the whole thing go and just enjoy living in the moment. You’re not going to ruin this by worrying.
As soon as he drops his pants, he’s on you again, like he couldn’t stand another second of distance from you. Hongseok’s mouth peppers your chest with kisses as a hand snakes beneath your back to unclasp your bra. He frees you from the garment, and his mouth eagerly wraps around one of your nipples, tonguing it and sucking gently.
“Bite it,” you plead, and he very willingly does as you ask. His teeth pinch your nipple, and you nearly cry out because it feels so good.
The last time you and Hongseok hooked up, you might have taken all the time in the world to get to explore each other’s bodies, but you could tell tonight would not be that way. You’ve both waited long enough for this dam to break and you need him so desperately.
You tug on his hair and he roughly palms you through your underwear, rushed and eager. After just a few moments he pushes your panties to the side and runs his fingers across your slickness. You’re so wet for him already.
He aggressively plunges one finger inside of you, practically shuddering at the way you moan when he does. He pumps a few times before slipping in another finger.
Then he pulls away from you. “Don’t move.” He goes over to his closet, and pulls down a box of condoms from the shelf. You smile, and then become quickly distracted as he pulls off his boxer briefs, his hard cock grabbing your attention. 
He rolls on the condom and yanks you to the edge of the bed, slipping off your panties before bringing your legs to rest on his shoulders. He lines up the head of his cock with your pussy and presses inside of you, covering your legs with kisses and bites as his hips buck into yours.
It’s absolutely incredible and you’re so full with every thrust. His hips snap wildly into you and you moan, loving every second of this. Pure pleasure shoots through you, and then you fucking open your eyes.
It’s easy for you to just screw your eyes shut when you’re having sex, because closing your eyes lets you focus more on the pleasure that you feel. But when you look up to see Hongseok staring down at you with those sharp eyes of his, his rough fingers digging into your thighs, his abdominal muscles flexing every time his cock disappears inside of you… how could you not allow yourself to watch?
“You’re so fucking hot, oh my God…” The words come out against your will, but the deadly smirk on his lips makes you not regret it.
“I know.”
Cue the eyeroll. “And still a cocky little shit.”
“I might be.” Hongseok pulls your legs down so that they fall to either side of his waist, and he leans down over you, his lips brushing your ear. It’s clear that he’s not affected by the insult, and judging by the way the pace of this thrusting increases, you can only assume that he’s trying to prove his worth.
His forearms scoop under your upper back and his hands cradle your head as he fucks you, his kisses overwhelming your senses. You slip a hand between your bodies to rub your clit, and you moan against his mouth.
Pleasure burns through your body, your heart racing with each kiss, each thrust. The only thought in your head is the repeated chant of more, more, more, I need more. His cock slides deliciously in and out of you, completely covered in your wetness, but it isn't enough. Your fingers tirelessly press circles into your clit, but it isn't enough. You need more.
"Hongseok…" You mewl his name when he finally comes up for air. 
His eyelids hang heavily as he hovers over you. "_____…"
Fuck, he's so beautiful. It steals your breath away to see him looking at you like this, breathing hard as he pounds into you. His gaze is possessive, like he's finally claimed you, and you honestly wouldn't mind calling yourself his. But that's neither here nor there. 
You forcefully clench around him, squeezing his cock with all you've got. He certainly notices - he hisses as his eyes pinch shut at the feeling of you so tightly wrapped around his cock. His deep groan sends a shiver down your spine.
Hongseok’s voice is low as he says, “Christ, you feel so good.”
You don’t know what to say, or if you should even say anything. Hongseok’s expression is so serious as he locks eyes with you, like he’s genuinely lost in your gaze. It’s intimidating, yet it makes your heart race in the most incredible way.
You reach up to run your fingers through his hair, noting how easily the soft strands slip between your fingers and how his whole face softens at the touch. Hongseok’s eyes close as he leans into your hand, enjoying the gentle intimacy.
He slows the pace of his thrusting until he’s languidly rolling into you, his arm muscles bulging beneath you as he holds himself up. You move your hand to cup his face, and he presses a kiss to your palm, never breaking eye contact.
Fuck. You remember exactly why it was so easy to pretend like you were in love that first night.
Your fingers trace over his cheekbone, his jaw, his lips, remembering the excitement of exploring him for the first time. This time feels so different - it’s a weird combination of a dangerous thrill and caution. It’s impossible to remove from your mind the fact that you really shouldn’t be doing this - you’re too overwhelmed by wanting him to pay much attention to the rules of reality.
But you see it on his face, too. The trepidation, the hesitation, and the incredible amount of desire that overrides everything else. 
As if Hongseok can tell that you’re beginning to overthink, he presses another kiss to your hand and gives you an easy smile. Softly, he murmurs, “It’s just you and me tonight.”
Aaaannnnddddd suddenly you’ve melted into a complete puddle.
“Just you and me,” you echo. 
Hongseok lowers himself, meeting your lips with another passionate kiss. You grab hold of his hair and return each kiss, moaning quietly as he picks up his pace ever so slightly. His tongue slides between your lips as your hand returns to your clit, electric pleasure pulsing through you once more.
You are absolutely content to stay here all night, trapped in his embrace with his cock thrusting deep inside of you with every movement. You don’t want a single centimeter of space between you and him. 
When you’re both breathing too hard to kiss properly, his mouth travels down to your neck, pressing sloppy kisses along your throat. Every swipe of his tongue draws a quiet cry from you, and you clench your muscles around his cock to return the pleasurable favor. 
You hear a deep moan from him, confirmation that you’re making him feel good, too. It’s like music to your ears; all you want is for him to feel good.
Instead of continuing to touch yourself, you use both hands to scrape the short tips of your fingernails down his back to elicit more sounds from him. And then you cup his ass and encourage him to press harder, deeper. And you keep clenching.
“Jesus Christ,” Hongseok mutters. He’s unraveling in your hands. You can feel it.
“What is it, Hongseok?” You play dumb, letting out a sweet moan just a moment after posing your question.
“You keep squeezing me…” Hongseok’s breath is shaky, and part of you loves seeing him so affected by you. “It feels so good, fuck.”
Digging your fingernails into his ass cheeks, you ask, “Do you want to cum?”
You clench around him again right as he’s about to answer. “Aaahhh… fuck, oh my God.” He looks up at you with the slightest smile on his face. “What are you doing to me?”
“Making sure you feel good.” You smile coyly at him. “Is it working?”
“Yes. Fuck.” Hongseok lets out a short laugh.
Boldly, you ask, “Why don’t you cum for me then? Let me see you cum...”
“Is that what you want?”
“Mhm.” You nod, smiling.
Hongseok lowers his lips to your ear. “Alright, sweetheart.”
The nickname shocks your core - you don’t know why you’re such a sucker for it. You’re inclined to believe that just about anyone could call you sweetheart and immediately have you begging to be fucked. 
What strikes you, though, is the slight difference you sense between hearing the nickname from Yanan versus Hongseok. When Yanan called you sweetheart, it felt sleazy, like he knew what kind of power it would hold and he wasn’t afraid to use it. That was hot in its own right. But when Hongseok calls you sweetheart, it feels strangely gentle and warm. Maybe it’s because of the way he holds you as he says it, the way his breath sweetly breezes past your ear. There’s something undeniably lovely about Hongseok, especially when he’s got you in his bed.
You press your lips to his temple, small moans coming from you as he keeps thrusting. The stretch of his cock feels absolutely amazing, and you’re completely captivated by every sensation - the rolling of his hips, the grip of his hand in your hair, the scent of his sweat mixing with his cologne.
With another clench of your pussy around his cock, you sense him hold back a moan, like he’s trying to hide just how easy it is for you to elicit a response from him. But at this point, you can’t be fooled. He’s so enamored by you that he couldn’t even let you reach the front door. And that fact is absolutely going to go to your head. 
Hongseok loses himself in you, thrusting into you and biting your neck, sucking your skin harshly and drawing a pleasured cry from you. It feels like he wants to absolutely devour you. If you could give him any more of yourself, you absolutely would. 
His breathing becomes ragged and you know that means he’s close. You card your fingers through his hair and whisper his name, and Hongseok lifts his head up to gaze down at you. His eyelids are heavy with lust, his lips parted from breathing hard. 
“_____…” Hongseok murmurs your name, his eyes pinching shut. Your eyes just skim over his face, taking in his gorgeous expression. His hips snap into you a few more times until he empties into the condom, and it’s just as incredible to watch as you remember.
Hongseok almost immediately dives in for another kiss as soon as he finishes. You eagerly reciprocate, still in need of your own release. His lips are devastatingly soft and you don’t think you’ll ever get over it.
Without leaving your lips, he lifts himself off of you, allowing his hand to roam over your curves. You feel terribly empty when he pulls out, but his cock is quickly replaced by his fingers. You groan against his mouth as his fingers gently pump in and out of you, his thumb pressing circles into your clit.
Finally, he releases your lips, and without a word he repositions himself on the bed so that he’s kneeling between your legs, pressing fervent kisses to your thighs. The teasing doesn’t last long, though - surely he can sense how desperate you are for more.
His mouth quickly moves to your pussy, gently kissing and licking your folds while his fingers continue gliding in and out. And then he finally reaches your clit, and your whole body warms with pleasure.
Hongseok’s tongue is wet and hot as it works your clit, and he looks so fucking hot between your legs like this. You’re absolutely drowning in pleasure and it’s everything you’ve ever wanted. 
You don’t dare to hold yourself back, moaning freely to let him know just how amazing he is at going down on you. With each suck, each flick of his tongue, you become more unraveled, the tension in your belly growing astoundingly fast.
You curse under your breath, wishing you could just enjoy this forever. Hongseok’s hand roughly grips your thigh, calloused fingers digging into your soft skin. His mouth sends waves of pleasure through your body. And on top of it all, your heart pounds rapidly in your chest, making you believe there’s a chance this could possibly be something special.
Hongseok’s fingers pulse in time with his tongue, and before you know it the coil snaps. Your entire body tightens and releases as your orgasm crashes over you, powerful warmth racing through your veins. Wave after wave hits you, and Hongseok presses a flat tongue against your clit as you ride it out, and the walls of your pussy rhythmically squeeze his fingers.
It seems like a solid minute of pure bliss before the feeling eventually fades. Hongseok retracts his fingers and lips, and he takes a moment to tie off the condom and toss it into the trash can next to his dresser. And then Hongseok joins you on the bed, wrapping you in his strong arms as sleep tugs at your eyelids.
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You wake up unbearably hot, and it doesn’t take you long to realize why. You’re completely pressed up against Hongseok’s naked body, and that man is a radiator.
You smile at his sleeping face for only a moment before you start to fill with dread.
You hadn’t meant to spend the night, but you did.
You hadn’t meant to sleep with your professor, but you did.
It was an accident the first time. This time is completely inexcusable.
What were you thinking? How could you have let any of this happen? You’re fully aware of the consequences and yet you slept with him anyway. And you spent the night.
You peel yourself off of him. He seems to be a heavy sleeper and he doesn’t notice the movement, thank God. You hurry out of the bedroom, pulling on your clothes as you find them on the floor until you’re dressed enough to head out. And right as you reach the stairs, you hear him.
“_____?”
You pause. Of course you couldn’t just slip out unnoticed. 
But you have to leave. You don’t want to talk to him about any of this right now. You’re up to your eyes in anxiety and you just need to get out. You can’t even muster up the courage to turn around and see if he’s out of bed.
“I’m sorry.” It’s all you can think to say as you rush down the stairs and out the door.
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The three hour train ride to get you home is too long for you to be left alone with your own thoughts. The fact that your jacket smells like Professor Yang’s cologne certainly doesn’t help. You replay last night’s events over and over in your mind, partly thrilled by the memory of sleeping with him and partly disappointed in yourself for your bad decision-making.
Last night was incredible. Spending time with Professor Yang at his showcase was actually really fun, and you have a new admiration for his talents and intelligence. Chatting with him in the car was so comfortable. And the way he fucked you…
You bury your face in your hands and lean towards the window of the train, hiding because you’re embarrassed to be having such lewd thoughts in public. You pull your turtleneck collar a little higher just to make sure the lovely hickey he left is appropriately hidden.
What are you going to do when you see him in class after break? Just pretend like nothing is going on as per usual, you assume. 
And what does this mean for everything with Kino? You’re supposed to be spending this short vacation thinking about what kind of future you want with him, not figuring out whether you regret an undoubtedly terrible choice you just made.
And Wooseok… you haven’t even addressed the fact that you were supposed to be at his place last night instead of Professor Yang’s. He hasn’t reached out to you either, so you assume that he was too drunk to remember your plans.
You’re going to have to dump all of this on Minseo as soon as you see her at the train station, since she’s the only one in the world who knows what happened between you and Professor Yang this summer. And honestly, you’re not sure if she’s going to be thrilled or pissed by what you’ve done.
You spend most of the train ride trying to distract yourself with music and a book, and by the time you arrive you actually start to feel excited about seeing Minseo. You tuck your book back into your backpack, grab your suitcase from the front of the train car, and step off of the train. The platform is full of other disembarking passengers, and you assume she must be waiting inside the station’s lobby. 
You pull out your phone as you roll your suitcase towards the lobby, and you’re surprised to see that she hasn’t responded to your text confirming what time she needed to be here to pick you up. That’s not necessarily a bad sign, but it’s not promising. You decide to try calling her, but she doesn’t answer. 
“I swear to God, if you forgot about me…” You seethe an empty threat at your phone as you hang up.
And then you hear your name called over the rumbling of your suitcase next to you. It’s a voice that you never in a million years expected to find here at this train station.
Your eyes dart around the room until you finally locate him, your heart completely stopping and your stomach dropping to the floor. 
He’s actually here. Right in front of you.
Your brother is here.
“Jinho?”
POST SCRIPT | Thank you for reading! Please stay tuned for Part 10, and let me know if you want to be tagged when I post it!
UPDATE | Read Part 10 here!
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED © GWENTORYFICS. NO TRANSLATIONS, REPOSTING, AND/OR MODIFYING OF THE MATERIAL IS ALLOWED WITHOUT MY DIRECT PERMISSION.
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delicatelyherdreams · 5 years ago
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Pragma(tic) 10: She Sees the World in a New Light
Pairing: Persephone!Bucky Barnes x Hades!Reader
Summary: In a world where the old gods never truly died, you must learn to navigate your way through the ups and downs of immortality. And if living forever wasn’t hard enough, an ancient evil is now threatening to break free after centuries of silence. And as if that still wasn’t hard enough for you, now a pesky and infuriatingly handsome god is trying to wedge his way into your life. Gods, work, love, and conflict—what more could a goddess need? [Hades & Persephone AU]
Word Count: 4272
Warnings: Language
Pragma(tic) Masterlist
Previous 9: The Past Comes Back to Haunt Her
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It’d been years since you’d actually gone out into the Mortal World and stayed for any amount of time. You used to make trips daily to reap your own souls before Pierce came to work for you and Clint agreed to help you out. But that was during the time of the Ancient Greeks and Romans; way before any of the modern technology came out.
Back then, people went to sleep right as the sun went down. They were quiet, reserved, timid, and shy. You were free to roam the streets of the villages, hardly a soul to join you. You’d enjoyed the silence of the Mortal World.
But now?
You couldn’t believe how much the world had changed.
The city was set ablaze with neon lights and lamps. You could hardly tell that it was nighttime anymore. People bustled around, talking to each other, talking on their phones, or not talking at all. Some walked with friends, others alone, but all were awake and lively. The colors from the street lights and glowing signs bounced off their skin, turning them different shades and making them ethereal and strange. You hadn’t seen anything like it in a long time.
Sure, Olympus had mimicked these mortal cities, but there was something unique about the Mortal World that Olympus simply didn’t have. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but it was beautiful and comforting and it made you happy.
The atmosphere was warm despite the piles of snow on the ground. White fairy lights were strung from lamppost to lamppost. People talked with animated gestures, a smile on everyone's face.
Sipping on your frappuccino, your eyes traveled from person to person, taking in their clothes, their hair, their facial expressions, everything. You were able to gauge what kind of a person they were within moments and garner a bit of insight into their life by mentally scrolling through the registry of souls and taking a peek at their file (that was the good thing about being the Queen of the Underworld—because every single soul was technically your subject, you were able to access every bit of their information).
A hand squeezing yours drew your attention away from the people, and you turned your eyes to the man beside you.
Bucky smiled down at you, his eyes sparkling in the dim light. “You enjoying yourself?”
Pulling your lips away from the rim of your drink, you nodded and smiled up at him. “I haven’t had a night like this in forever. I think I was in my early five hundreds the last time I got to roam the Mortal World. It’s changed so much.”
“It has, hasn’t it?” Bucky took a sip of his latte and looked forward. “I’ve been coming here for decades, and every time I come, I find it astonishing.”
“Here? As in New York?”
“Heh, yeah.” He paused as he slowed to a stop at the corner of the sidewalk, a red stop hand commanding pedestrians to halt. “Steve and I love coming to Brooklyn. We practically grew up here. My mom spent a lot of time here before it got built on, tending crops and stuff. She moved away when the city sprang up, but I still love it here.” A happy sigh escaped his mouth. “It’s a beautiful city. I love coming here, especially in the winter.”
“Do you come here often?”
“At least once a week or so. I’m considered a regular at some shops.”
The stop hand turned into a walking man and you and Bucky followed the crowd across the sidewalk. Your voice quieted as you asked, “Isn’t that dangerous though? Won’t the mortals realize you never age and get suspicious?”
He shrugged. “Some might, but they hardly pay attention enough to realize that I still look the same as I did years ago. And the ones that call me out on it, well they deserve to know the truth.”
Your eyes bulged out of your head. “You told them?”
He laughed. “Relax, (y/n). I don’t tell everyone, only some. I think I’ve maybe told five people the truth in my 1,385 years of existence, and most of them are elderly at that. In fact, you’ll be meeting one of them tonight.” His grin was sly as he tugged you across the street by the hand. “He runs a pastry shop I’ve been dying to take you to. His cinnamon rolls are the absolute best.”
You followed Bucky down the street, eyeing the path ahead warily. “So, he knows about you and what you… are?”
“Yeah. I told him a few years ago when he called me out on not aging.”
“So then he knows you’re the real ‘Persephone,’ as the mortals call you?”
He breathed a laugh. “Yes, he does. And the first words out his mouth were, ‘I knew you were a flower child,’ and the second ones were, ‘Wait, you’re not a lady.�� Gods, it was mortifying to try to explain to him that the myths were wrong and that I was, indeed, not a woman despite the feminine name given to me by the mortals.”
“So am I to assume that he knows about me too?”
Tilting his head from side to side, he pursed his lips in thought. “I think he probably knows you exist, but I’ve never had reason to tell him about Hades, the goddess of the Underworld. I didn’t think it was important or necessary until I befriended you. But I’ll introduce you tonight. He’s a cool guy, and I think you’ll like him.”
Gods, you hoped you would; but you hoped he’d like you more. Mortals were not very hospitable to the gods that resided in the Underworld and dealt with death. They were afraid of you and that made them abrasive, hostile even. The last time you told a mortal you were Hades, she blanched with fear and ordered you (the best she could with her trembling voice) out of her house.
Bucky led you through the city, down another block or two, and stopped outside an old fashioned pastry shop. The red and white awning had faded to a salmon above the store, but the gold lettering that read “Pop’s Pastries” on the window was still crisp and neat as if it had been painted on yesterday. Bright lights illuminated the shop from the inside, casting a glow over the endless display cases of pastries and cakes as well as an elderly man sitting behind the counter on a stool with a book in his hand and reading glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose.
“Come on,” he said, tugging you in by the hand. A little bell over the door jingled as Bucky pushed the door open and passed through the threshold.
The old man behind the counter looked up, his green eyes sparkling with amusement. “Well well well. Look who it is.” He fit a bookmark in between the pages of his novel and set it down so he could give his undivided attention to the pair of you. “If it isn’t my favorite celestial being. And who is this you’ve brought with you, Persephone?”
Bucky chuckled. “It’s Bucky, not Persephone, Arthur. We’ve been over this.”
“I know, but I don’t care.” Arthur’s eyes glistened with amusement. “Now answer my question: who’s the pretty lady. A goddess perhaps? She’s pretty enough for it.”
You giggled and shook your head. “I don’t know about pretty, but yes, I am a goddess.”
“Ah-ha! I knew it! Now, which one are you? No no, wait, let me guess.” He leaned back in his chair and eyed you, scrutinizing your entire figure. “You’re… Aphrodite.”
The laugh that tore through your threat was louder than you had intended and you quickly slapped your hand over your mouth. “Oh gods. I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to laugh. But no, I am not Aphrodite. That name belongs to the lovely Pepper.”
“Artemis then.”
“Nope. That’s Wanda.”
He hesitated. “Hera?”
Your lips curled up in a grimace. “No, that’s my sister’s wife Maria.”
“Your sister’s wife… You mean your sister is Zeus?”
“Carol, actually. But yes, the mortals call her Zeus.”
“So then, if your sister is Zeus, then you’re…” You could see the gears turning in his head.
You smirked. “You’ve got a fifty-fifty shot at this, mister. If you get it wrong, you’ll hurt my feelings.”
“Alright… My guess is…” He sprinted and turned his gaze up to the ceiling. “Oh, lord; you’re wearing black. You are… Hades?”
A smile took over your lips. “Ding ding ding. We have a winner.” Bowing to him with an ounce of flounce, you said, “Allow me to introduce myself. I am (y/n) Aidoneus, the unseen one, eldest daughter of the titans Kronos and Rhea, goddess of the dead and wealth, and Queen of the Underworld, at your service.”
Arthur whistled in appreciation. “Those are some pretty impressive titles, your majesty. I am honored to be in the presence of one of the big three. Just, one question.”
“Shoot.”
“Why you hanging around with a minor god like Bucky here?”
“You know, I’ve been asking myself that for weeks.”
“Hey!” Bucky narrowed his eyes. “You love me and you know it.”
“Yeah yeah yeah, keep telling yourself that, Springy.”
Arthur snickered, his voice ringing out through the otherwise empty shop. “Oh, to be young and in love. I swear you two act like an old married couple already.”
Your head snapped towards him and you lost even more color if that was even possible. “In what? No no. We’re not… I mean… No. We’re not a thing.”
“Oh, my mistake your highness,” Arthur said. “I only assumed that you were together cause Buck here has never brought anyone here unless they were special to him.”
“We’re just friends, Art,” Bucky said, holding up his hands. “Nothing more, nothing less. Believe me, I just barely got to be friends with her; she almost had my head the first couple times I broke in and she only just gave me the keys to the kingdom.”
“Ah, that is right. You were a little trespasser up until a few months ago, right?”
“Mhmm. He was.” You shot Bucky a glare. “However, I have learned to tolerate his presence in my kingdom. There are still places he’s not allowed to go, but he can come into my house so long as he has my permission first. Now.” You rolled your shoulders back and sauntered over to the display cases of baked goods. “Bucky tells me you have the best cinnamon rolls in the world and I’m curious to see if he’s right.”
Arthur popped off his stool and walked behind the cases, pulling a small plate out of seemingly nowhere. “I sure do. It’s an old family recipe, dating back to when the first cinnamon rolls were created in Sweden. I sell nothing but the best here.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
Arthur pulled two cinnamon rolls from behind the case and set them on two small plates that were just the size for the pastries.
Mumbling your thanks, you took your plate over to one of the tables that stood in the vacant shop. You took your seat elegantly, sitting up straight with the posture that only royalty seemed to have. Ever so carefully, so as to not dirty your hands, you wrapped your fingers around the roll and lifted it up to your lips. As soon as the sugary icing touched your tongue, you were hooked. “Oh my gods, this is amazing!”
Arthur bowed his head. “Thank you, milady. I’m glad that they have your seal of approval.” He moved back over to his spot and plucked his book from the counter. “Well, I’ll leave you two youngins to it.  I’ll be in the back reading. Holler if you need anything.”
“Will do. Thanks, Arthur!” Bucky sat down at the table across from you and smirked. “So what did I tell you? Best cinnamon rolls in the world, am I right?”
You bobbed your head as you chewed. “Yeah, yeah. I guess you’re right.” As you swallowed your bite, you dragged the back of your hand across your face to wipe away the crumbs that had undoubtedly made their home in the corners of your mouth. Smiling down at your roll, you couldn’t help but feel satisfied with your current situation, though a bit saddened. This place—as quaint and lovely as it was—felt like one you should be sharing with a lover. Naturally, the only lover you’ve ever had fell into your mind. You could just barely imagine the naiad sitting in the chair across from you, his brown eyes sparkling as you covered his nose with frosting. It would be the perfect date. You would’ve loved to have brought him here. A mellow sigh left your lips and you murmured, “Gods… Brock would love this.”
“Who’s Brock?”
You blinked. Holy fuck, had you really said that out loud? Welp, shit. Time to roll with this. You gulped. “He’s my… Uh...”
“Boyfriend?” Bucky’s voice was timid, cautious, perhaps a bit scared. He spoke the word like it was bitter on his tongue.
You breathed a laugh. “No. I don’t know what he is to me.” Your lips formed a thin line as you averted your gaze.
His brows furrowed. “How do you mean? How can you not know?”
“Well, our relationship… It’s complicated, you know? Like, we obviously have some sort of feelings for each other. He’s been there for me for centuries and he’s loved me for that long too. But it… It doesn’t feel like love exactly. I don’t know what it is.”
Bucky’s lips pursed, but he let you speak.
And you spoke. You told him about how Brock was the only one who treated you like a queen and goddess in the beginning, going so far as to pledge his undying fidelity to you and vow to serve you with his life. You hesitated as you started to get into your relationship with him, talking about the late nights you spent together with only the vaguest detail. You didn’t know why, but it felt wrong talking about it in front of Bucky, and you were almost ashamed of it. No, scratch that, you were ashamed of it. You felt like it was almost betraying him to admit what you and Brock had done in the dark. But, swallowing the lump in your throat, you continued with your pathetic tale, telling him about how in recent centuries, Brock hardly ever came around anymore unless it was to satisfy his own desires. He never stayed for the morning after or to actually talk to you anymore and it left you confused and hurt.
Bucky listened with solemn interest, staying silent until you finished. He frowned, his brows pinching together and his lips turning down with an agitated air. “Permission to speak freely?”
“Always.”
He took a deep breath before starting bluntly with, “It sounds like he’s a dick.”
You snorted.
“No no no, hear me out! From what you’ve told me, this asshole is using you and doesn’t seem to care about your feelings. All he wants you for is someone who will give him what he wants and someone whom he can just take and take from.” He shook his head with a growl that surprised you. You’d never seen the god of spring so… angry and dark. “He sounds like a dick who only cares about himself and he’s hurting you in the process. He’s using you and it’s not right. Who does he think he is to abuse a literal goddess such as yourself. You don’t deserve that shit. You don’t deserve someone who will use you and leave you. You deserve the world. You deserve all the stars in the heavens. You deserve love—not that fake lust—true love. You deserve someone who will take care of your emotions and treat you with respect and adoration. You deserve someone who will stay with you through thick and thin, treating you as if you’re a precious gem. You deserve someone—”
“Someone like you?” The words were gentle as they escaped your mouth; hopeful, sincere, begging. They surprised you, but their implications that you wanted him surprised you more. How could you imply that? You hadn’t even known each other for a year yet, and you were insinuating that he wanted a romantic relationship with you and you wanted one with him. What the fuck were you thinking?
How could you think such? You didn’t know him. He didn’t know you. He was just a friend and hardly even that. He’d only been down to your domain a handful of times.
But then again…
Each time had been more blissful and lovely than the last. Sitting with him in the garden… Strolling through Elysium… Picking flowers in the Meadow… Each time he visited drew you closer and closer to his light until you considered him close to your heart.
He turned to you, his astounding blue eyes looking at you with an ounce of surprise and, for a second, you feared you overstepped. But then his gaze turned kind and he smiled a smile so kind, so genuine, and so real that you lost your breath for a second. And he reached for your hands—both of them—and took them in his. His hands dwarfed yours, but they fit together perfectly. Holding one, he brought the other up to cup his face, to hold his cheek. He turned into you and pressed his lips against the palm of your hand.
You could feel his breath ghosting over your skin and it sent shivers down your spine in the best way.
And then his lips moved, and even the slightest twitch was enough to take over your senses. “If you’d have me,” he said softly, his voice just barely above a whisper. He turned away from your hand to gaze into your eyes. “I know I’m a young god—naive, stupid, innocent to the world—but I also know my feelings. And I do have feelings for you, (y/n). I know that we don’t know each other the best, but that’s the great thing about immortality, right? I have all of eternity to get to know you.”
You gaped at him, your mind on red alert as the meaning of his words kicked in. He wanted a relationship with you. Suddenly, your thoughts went on autopilot.
This is wrong. This is wrong. This is wrong.
He was less than half your age. He was a young god. You didn’t know him. He didn’t know you. He doesn’t know what he wants.
This is wrong. This is wrong. This is wrong.
What were you thinking? You’d just met him. You couldn’t possibly be interested in pursuing a relationship. You would be insane. You couldn’t take advantage of him like this, no matter how badly your subconscious wanted him. And even then, he was the god of spring, of life, and you were the goddess of the dead and Queen of the Underworld. There was no way that those two things mixed. How could they? They were polar opposites.
This is wrong. This is wrong. This is…
But what if it wasn’t? What if he wanted you just as bad as you wanted him? What if he wanted to know you like you wanted to know him? What if?
This feels right. This feels nice. This feels right.
Maybe there was a reason you felt safe and secure around him. Maybe there was a reason you called him instead of Brock when you had your nightmare. Maybe there was a reason he stayed in your mind, always lurking in the corners no matter the time of day.
This feels right. This feels nice. This feels right.
Your eyes traced his face and your heart hammered in your chest. If you were being honest, you wouldn’t mind trying to pursue something with him. He was kind, sweet, and genuinely wanted to know you. That was more than any other man had been in years.
But there were other factors than just what you and he wanted. What about the age gap? You more than doubled him in age. And then there was also the fact that you were practically ostracised by most of the gods and immortals on Olympus. Would he join you in exile from the others if he associated himself with you? And then what about his mother? She despised you with a passion, and there was no way that she would approve of you two dating. And what about…
Brock…
There were just so many fucking factors to it, way too many for you to work out in one day. You might’ve been a goddess, but that didn’t mean you weren’t without responsibilities that had to come before your love life.
You hung your head, removing your eyes from his body. “Bucky, I just… I don’t know…” you whispered, your voice cracking with strain. “How could we work? How could the world let us work? There’s just so much that needs to be accounted for and I… I just don’t see how it’s possible.”
“So long as we try, so long as we both want it… Anything is possible, really—even us being together.” He gave you a lopsided smile. “The Fates would not have had us meet if it wasn’t.”
You barked a bitter laugh. “The Fates could not be so cruel as to interweave our futures, Bucky,” you said in a shallow whisper. “It’s a curse to be stuck with me.”
“See, you view it as a curse, but I would see it as the greatest blessing they could give me. To be so lucky as to spend all of eternity with you who cares so much about people and who gives so much of herself so selflessly is all that I can ask for. You are so much more than what you give yourself credit for, (y/n). Let me be there to remind you of your value.”
“But what about Brock?”
He sighed and tightened his grip on your hand. “You can let him go. You don’t need him. He’s abusing you, (y/n), I know you can see that too. Just let him go.”
“I… I just… I can’t let him go that easily, Buck.” You hung your head. “I think that, deep down, I know the words you speak are true, but I… He’s been there for me—with me—for hundreds of years; I can’t just let him go. I know I should, but I can’t…” It was toxic, what you had with him; you knew that, but he had planted his weeds so deep in your heart that you could not tear them out so easily.
“What if I helped you?” he asked, his voice lifting an octave as he thought aloud. “I can be there for you, occupying your time so that way you wouldn’t have to see him. I have no obligations or responsibilities other than bringing Spring to the Mortal World once a year, and so I could be down there for you. No one says that you have to cut him from your life all at once; you can do it little by little and I will be there to help you every step of the way.” He bit his lip as he let go of your hand and reached up to hold your cheek.
You closed your eyes at his touch and leaned into him. His hands were worn and smooth and filled with warmth that filled you to your core.
“I can help you, (y/n), but you have to tell me you want this. I won’t make you decide one way or the other; this is your life, you’re in control. I am but a tool for you to use to help you along. You tell me what you want and I will help you make it happen. Okay?”
What you want…
You had virtually everything you could ever want: a kingdom, loving family, millions of subjects who respected you, power, wealth, good friends, the best dog ever, and security. But that wasn’t everything you wanted.
You wanted love. You’d never admitted it before, but you really wanted love. Not the stuff Brock gave you, but real love. If you remember correctly, the Greeks had given a name for the love you craved.
Pragma: long-lasting love.
You knew that you were never going to get that with Brock. You were chasing him down a one-way road that led to a dead end. There was no future of growth for you, no practicality whatsoever, only the same for years, decades, centuries to come. There was nothing more he could offer you, nothing he could give to you that you didn’t already have.
But with Bucky? Gods, there were so many options; he’d already proved to you time after time that he was invested in you and more than willing to stay with you. He’d risked getting flayed alive by his mother and his own safety just to get closer to you. With him, there was a chance that you could find what you wanted. No matter how minuscule the chance was, it was still there; a single thread hanging in the middle of the room that you were going to hold onto and climb until it either turned into rope or disappeared.
You had nothing to lose, so why not take a chance on him?
Next 11: She Takes a Stand
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saladejin · 5 years ago
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Call An Uber? | 02
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BTS x Reader | idolverse au, uber driver!Reader, translator!Reader |  Fluff, flirting, super slow burn, angst and hurt/comfort, mature themes and eventual smut 
Summary:  Your normal life with a normal, yet inconsistent job gets drastically changed when your dreams come true. Sounds boring right?
What happens when all of this occurs, but you’re still doing something you love AND getting a large sum for it? Now there’s something to think about, and it’s definitely not what you’re thinking.
Warnings: None
Word Count: 2.4k
< masterpost >
»»————- <<prev | next >> ————-««            
Bold = English
       "You make it sound like we're gonna die." 
"Yeah well you will, if you don't move your ass." I swung open my door, tugging the mask higher on my face and swishing my (h/c) hair around to cover the rest partially. 
Hopefully any lurking cameras wouldn't sneak a peek of my flustered appearance, because that would be embarrassing in itself. I had worn only the lightest makeup possible today. Of course I didn't want to look like a troll in front of my customers, but now that I was breathing right next to two perfect, ethereal human beings, I suddenly wished I’d made a better effort to impress. 
"Quick!" Jimin's abrupt gasp snapped me out of my thoughtless gazing, and I turned around to see Jungkook walking towards me swiftly. Jimin was already heading inside, but had thrown a worried glance back in my direction when he saw my frozen form on the pavement. I instantly started at the sudden pressure on my lower back and jumped forward when Jungkook's large hand pressed me in that direction. 
"Sorry, but you probably shouldn't touch me if people can see," I murmured and led the way through the sliding doors into the cooled administration room.
Jungkook's tentative hand jerked away as if he had touched a burning hot iron.
The weather had been quite warm outside, but I hadn't taken too much notice because of the exceptional air conditioning of my car. I whipped my head around one last time to blow a tiny kiss to my precious baby parked outside, as it was still new and had already been through an exciting car-chase of sorts. Even copping a harsh slap to the ass in the process. 
I'll be back soon Red. 
I turned back around to see the cheeky maknae giving me an incredulous look with one eyebrow raised. 
"Don't judge me, it's new." 
When Namjoon came to fetch his two younger members, he was definitely far from pleased. As soon as he entered the room all three of us were sitting in, he gave me a quick glance up and down with his expression hardening the closer he looked. Despite his misgivings, the tall man still managed to flash me a strained smile while he dipped his head in a sign of respect. He was truly a kind soul, and I knew he’d probably need to make an initial judgement based off this first look.
The professional demeanour continued as his careful eyes flickered to Jimin and Jungkook. He had already gone through the initial apologies and displays of gratitude as soon as he bowed, but now his expression was disappointed as he beckoned the other two members in the room.
"You two come with me." 
Damn, his leader voice was definitely no joke! I felt myself squirm in my seat, probably from the uncomfortable tension suddenly flooding the room. Namjoon looked as good as ever, silvery grey hair styled in a way that just made me speechless, but his usually calm and thoughtful expression was tired and stressed. 
Poor guy, he must have torn his hair out over this. I hope he doesn't think I'm insane or something.
I knew there was absolutely no way he would trust me completely on the first meeting, but seeing as though his fellow band members had mentioned their situation and fortunate escapade, his gaze seemed softer than it could've been.
Thinking about what could've gone wrong made me shudder, and I pushed the thoughts away as the two boys I had shared a car with for the past half an hour jumped to their feet. I was sad, but I mean who wouldn't be? I had fangirled over them so many times and once I’d actually met them, it seemed quite literally too good to be true.
I knew they couldn't stay though, and when it came down to it, I was most likely viewed as just another fan. Just another fan that they had happened to meet coincidentally, but still nothing too estranged from a fan meeting event where girls from various backgrounds would provide them with gifts and words of encouragement. 
Why would I expect anything different from this? 
I forced down the bile rising in my throat and avoided making eye contact with any of the boys, as I couldn't bear to watch them go. Slipping through my fingers, kind of like the moment you begin to wake up from a dream you longed to replay over and over.
The realisation that they’d halted in their movements took me way too long, but as I snapped up to meet Jungkook's conflicted expression, I suddenly gasped. "Oh, sorry!" 
I tugged off the mask he had graciously lent me and held it out with a shaky hand in the younger boy's direction. His eyes flashed with recognition and even surprise, much to my own confusion. 
"Oh, that...I won't mind if you keep it, I have plenty of others." 
I let out a sharp breath and smiled forlornly. "Creepy, you're giving me your clothes now?"
I laughed softly when he rolled his eyes and dismissed me with a joking wave of his hand, bunny smile flashing. Jimin also couldn't help but grin at the maknae's chivalrous attempt and how it had completely backfired.
Someone cleared their throat deeply and I met the pointed look of Namjoon once more, even though his gaze had settled the tiniest bit at seeing his fellow members act comfortably. 
"(Y/n)-ssi, is it?" 
"Yes, I'm sorry to make you wait so long Kim Namjoon-ssi. You must have been worried sick." I struggled to be as respectful as I could, my eyebrows knitting together in concentration as I spoke. Did I even use the correct honorific? Maybe I should have used something higher because he's the leader of the group. Ah, I don't know! 
A chuckle broke me from the horrifying contemplation, and I flinched slightly as Jimin bent down to enter my line of vision. "Don't worry too hard about all the honorific stuff, Namjoonie-hyung will understand." 
I nodded with a cringe alighting my features, annoyed at my own obvious floundering with their language. I had been in the country for a couple of months, so why couldn't I just get my act together and converse properly? 
"Do...you speak English at all?" Namjoon ventured with a smile that made his dimples pop adorably. I let out a big sigh and ran a hand through my windblown hair while nodding. 
"Yep, I'm from (Y/c). But I do understand Korean fairly well, it's just the honorifics and technicalities that trip me up a bit." 
Jimin and Jungkook groan simultaneously at the revelation that I was fluent in the language they practiced the most, and I couldn't help but smirk. They must have had some suspicion, as I did't exactly look Korean anyway, but there was always the notion that I could have been born to foreign parents and grown up here. 
"I never would have known! Your Korean is still great," Jimin whined lowly and I couldn't help but laugh, the look in my eyes eventually shifting to one of apology. 
"That's fine, it's alright to just use 'ssi' anyway," Namjoon nodded and I relaxed my shoulders in relief. The switch back to Korean was somewhat jarring, but it was only fair that everyone in the room should understand the gist of the conversation. 
"But hyung, she told us she doesn't mind if you don't use them for her," Jungkook was next to pipe up, and I was surprised he even remembered such a thing at this point in time. I just smiled and shook my head in response. 
"I don't mind either way. I'm not fussed at all." 
"Yes, well we should be going anyway." Namjoon cut off the conversation and glanced at his watch, looking back around at everyone in the room. 
"Thankyou (Y/n)-ssi for taking care of our members, something like this shouldn't happen again." 
At the sound of their leader's stern voice, the boys both hung their heads slightly, and I knew that even though the situation had worked out for the best, it definitely was not ideal for this kind of thing to happen when their careers could be put on the line. 
"It's alright, Jungkook's mask is the only thanks I need," I decided to joke so that I can see the younger boys smile again, and I was rewarded with the most beautiful pearly white grins yet. Namjoon chuckled and motioned with one hand for the boys to leave the room before him.
Jungkook turned and threw a small wave and bow in my direction. I returned them, and he finally exited the room with a hefty sigh to let out all of his pent-up stress. Jimin followed with the same gestures and I responded with a faintly sorrowful smile. Ah, what I wouldn’t give to just spend a whole day with them. I was then ultimately left alone with the leader of BTS. To say I wasn’t a tad intimidated would be a lie. 
"Once again, you have truly done us a service. We are glad to have a fan such as yourself supporting us,” Namjoon spoke after a few seconds of silent tension.
"Thank you, you have no idea how much you guys have helped me already, so please don't feel as though you owe me anything," I quietly respond and watch as his eyes cloud with admiration and respect suddenly.
Maybe he regretted acting so robotic and cold when he came in, but he was the leader and professionalism mattered so much when you were faced with a situation that called for big demonstrations of leadership. Namjoon smiled and bowed again, reaching out to shake my hand kindly before leaving the room to join the others. I knew all that was left was meeting the CEO of Bighit Entertainment. 
Yeah, because that's something to just brush over. 
God, so much was happening to me today. How could I possibly go back to streaming endless amounts of videos and fangirling over pictures when I had actually spoken with three members of the band itself? I forced down the niggling thoughts of 'that's only three out of seven' and grunted apprehensively. 
You're lucky enough as it is, don't be greedy. 
The thing is, nothing about my long-distance relationship with the boys was normal anymore, and I wondered if the girls who attended fan-meetings felt exactly the same way. The fact that they were just normal guys with normal thoughts had always crossed my mind when I watched them through the screen, but seeing it in action proved to be disarming at the very least. 
Stupid world-famous idols, don't play with my heart like this.
The meeting and disclaimer signage with Bang PD went well in the end, and I was consistently surprised at how kind-hearted and open he was with everything that had gone down. All the staff I had encountered were nothing short of accommodating, and they were continuously apologising for the mess caused. Even though I had told them many times it was truly a blessing in disguise, they remained insistent on the matter.
"Please, I want you to take this as a token of our gratitude." Bang PD smiled warmly in my direction, and before I could refuse he held out a slip of paper. It was a cheque, and my eyes blew wide when my eyes scanned the tiny bold numbers printed neatly on the surface.
"Please, I can't accept this, I already got paid for my service."
Before the short man could shake his head and insist further, a light knock sounded on the frosted glass pane of the office door before opening. In stepped a young woman who bowed repeatedly for her intrusion, her short night black hair bobbing up and down along with her.
"I'm terribly sorry Bang PD-nim, but the donor from Chile has arrived back at the office ahead of schedule."
The founder of Bighit nodded in understanding, clearing his throat to speed up whatever process was happening. He turned back to me with a reassuring glance and I took a deep breath, fully understanding I wasn't really able to refuse his generous offer.
"Right, well thank you once again for your service, I have other things to attend to it seems. It was lovely to meet you."
The cheque still scorching hot in my left hand not going unnoticed, I forced myself to return his smile with a gulp. He gestured softly for the door and followed me out. The young woman looked quite flustered as she shifted from foot to foot just outside the bleak office entryway.
The building's interior was very modern and clean-cut, and I knew it was probably very, very different from the actual Bighit Entertainment building itself. Seeing as it was meant for living arrangements and not vital meetings such as the one mentioned earlier.
I exchanged formalities with Mr.Bang once more before I turned towards the exit of the dormitory building, my big and exciting day coming to a close just like that.
"I'm sorry, but it seems our Spanish interpreter has called in absent today. I've just been informed that the donor came without one," the hushed whisper from the woman reached my ears as I took a couple of steps towards the large glass doors. I heard a sharp click of a tongue and a deep, masculine sigh from behind me. 
"Well what are we going to do? I don't know enough Spanish for an entire face-to-face meeting like this."
"Does anyone else in the company?" The woman's voice was growing frantic, as she was apparently about to drown in her sudden bout of panic.
Bang PD's tone was irritated. "Why the hell was this not scheduled better?"
I honestly could not blame him. What kind of interpreter would just call in absent on such an important event? Even if the sickness was life-threatening, there were ways to notify and organise something to compensate for it, or give some warning to reschedule.
A small smile stretched my lips as I twirled around on one of my heels happily, once again facing the distraught looking woman and CEO who were deep in hurried conversation.
"If I mentioned that I was fluent in Spanish, would that help?"
             Copyright © 2020 by salade. All rights reserved.   
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joon-ipersgirl · 4 years ago
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O5 - “airplane pt. 2″
O5 - “airplane pt. 2″
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genre: strangers to lovers!au, angst, fluff
pairing: jimin x reader (f)
summary: they say home is where the heart is. you’re convinced yours was taken the day your father died. until you meet jimin. 
you believe in love but after watching men cycle through your mother’s arms, rocky relations with ex-boyfriends, and broken friendships, you no longer see it in your future. so much so, you never settle in one place long enough to call it home, choosing a job where you’re always on the go and on your own. 
on a chance encounter on a flight from new york city to bali, indonesia, you meet. flustered by jimin’s flirty advances but understanding and good-natured tendencies, you start to fall. what starts off as a work-trip soon blossoms into a budding romance, but will jimin’s secret destroy the relationship before it’s had the chance to truly begin?
word count: 5.4k
warnings: cursing, mentions of anxiety, talks of heartbreak
a/n: i thought i should post this while i had the motivation lol. this has a lot of background for their past relationships with a lil twist so i hope you enjoy it. this is the last part i have completed so updates for this story might be a while but winter break is coming up so i should have more time. i just really want to do the next part justice you know? anywhoo. as always, thank you vi for reading this beforehand and pls leave any comments and thoughts in an ask. i’m curious to the reactions of jimin’s relationship history. enjoy everyone and think you for reading!
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There were no thoughts of Tiago when you woke up that morning. Your cheek was pressed against Jimin’s back as your arm was draped over his upper body and your leg slung over his lower back. His breathing was deep and even as he slept peacefully beside you. You realized you’d technically only taken a nap as no sunlight peeked under the curtain, only the artificial lights from the street signs gently illuminating the room.
The events of last night came rushing back to you and you pulled away from Jimin, surprised at just how bold you’d become.You’d truly felt comfortable enough to share a deep part of your life story with a man that you’d known for two days. A man that you had a crush on. A man that had almost kissed you in the middle of a dive bar in the middle of Hong Kong. Jimin was encroaching on dangerous territory.
A ping! came through on your phone which you realized was across the room with the rest of your things. You groaned at the thought of having to leave the comfortable confines of the bed. Another loud ping! dragged you from the warmth of the sheets, choosing to crawl over Jimin’s legs instead of his lap, remembering the previous morning’s antics. Checking your phone, you saw three unread messages from Michael.
Michael: Good afternoon Y/N! Have you any word on when you’ll arrive in Bali? [1:09]
Michael: So I haven’t received a call or text from you. I assume everything is fine, or Park Jimin has killed you. I hope it’s the former [4:17]
Michael: So clearly he’s killed you. I’ll be sending his name and social security number off to the authorities [4:19]
You snorted at Michael’s messages as you inched your way back into your spot though Jimin had claimed the majority of your space in his sleep. He didn’t stir as you slipped under the covers, but rested his head against your chest as you laid on your back; you didn’t have the heart to move him as you responded to Michael.
You don’t have his social security number Michael. I’m fine. We just had a long night. And our flight is leaving some time this afternoon. I’ll get the details from Jimin and send them to you
[4:22]
Michael: You don’t know that. And a long night? Y/N, don’t tell me you were in the arms of this man when you’ve only known him for at most 2 days [4:24]
So what if I was? You’ve definitely done worse
[4:25]
Michael: You’re right. But this is one of the areas where I don’t lead by example. Please tell me you used protection at least [4:26]
Gross, Michael. Nothing happened. We just went to the museum (I saw Garland Sans) and then went for dinner and some drinks
[4:27]
Michael: A museum, dinner, AND drinks? In ONE night? Sounds like a date. A classy one at that since you said there was no fucking [4:29]
Michael: AND YOU SAW GARLAND SANS WITHOUT ME?! WITH HIM?! HOW DARE YOU! [4:30]
You’re honestly so crude. There was no fucking. It was just a casual hangout, nothing crazy. Also, I didn’t know his work was going to be there. I don’t think it’ll be the same exhibit in New York so we’re fine
[4:33]
Michael: A casual hangout where you forget to text me back? I beg to differ. Spill [4:34]
You chewed on your lip as you stared at Michael’s message. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell him what happened; Michael was more than just a manager, he was also like a best friend. The problem was you didn’t really know how to describe last night. You barely understood what had transpired yourself. Throwing caution to the wind, you laid out all the details of the previous night.
Michael: … [4:53]
Michael: Y/N, this man did NOT wine and dine you and you left him hanging out to dry! Have I taught you nothing? [4:54]
Michael: I just - I cannot believe you got lucky like this. Well, not that kind of lucky. Either way, he didn’t actually kiss you so maybe he deserved that. An art curator at that. And he lives in NYC? You really are living in the moment. I’m so happy to hear after that S.O.B. [4:55]
Michael: Wait, does this mean you’re in bed together now?! [4:55]
It wasn’t that type of night! Like you said, I’ve known him for TWO DAYS. We can’t just have sex. And
I guess so; Tiago hasn’t been on my mind as much lately. Yes, Michael. We’re currently still in bed. Jimin’s sleeping
[4:58]
Michael: It’s the 21st century, Y/N. Live a little. You’re a modern-day woman. It’s been a year and a half love, I would hope he wasn’t. Not when you have a man that sounds like he’s sex on legs wrapped around your finger. [5:01]
Michael: Please send a pic. Thanks! [5:02]
He is not wrapped around my finger! And I’m definitely not just going to send you a picture of him sleeping! That’s weird!
[5:05]
Michael: Booo! This would be for the authorities Y/N. Think about your safety [5:07]
I am. So safe from you and your antics when I’m on the other side of the world. I’m going to shower, I’ll text you later
[5:09]
Michael: Oh you’re a dirty girl! Ask Jimin to join you. Remember to text me the flight details [5:12]
You chuckled at Michael’s attempt to make you uncomfortable. There was no way in hell you would do that. Jimin wasn’t wrong when he said you could barely look at him with clothes on and you blushed as the increasingly inappropriate thoughts tried to break through the barrier of unconsciousness and consciousness. You felt Jimin tug you closer as you tried to slip out of his grip again.
“Where are you going?” he mumbled, still half asleep.
“To go take a shower,” you said while trying to push him off you.
“No,” he whined. “Don’t leave me.” He snuggled closer and you laughed.
“Let go, Jimin. I smell gross; I’m basically leaking alcohol from my pores at this point.”
“I don’t care. You’re warm and I want to sleep more.”
“You can still sleep while I go and shower.” You pinched his side and he jerked away from you. His glare was comical as he struggled to locate you with sleep-heavy eyes. “So you’re ticklish? Good to know.”
“You’re mean,” he pouted as he rolled over onto his stomach after you’d successfully vacated the bed. “And it’s early as fuck. Wake me up when it’s a reasonable hour to be a human being.”
“You don’t even know what time it is,” you mumbled as you closed the door on any reply Jimin could make.
You welcomed the sting of the hot water against your shoulders, soothing the knots in the back of your neck. Letting the water run through your hair, you smoothed it out of your face. Massaging your scalp was therapeutic nowadays, especially since it was so much shorter. You hadn’t grown it out in a year and a half, now enjoying the short dry time and the new woman you were; Tiago would have hated it. You sighed as he resurfaced and you washed him away again with the simple smelling body wash. By the time you were dressed in your last clean emergency clothing, your hair was already drying.
The smell of coffee welcomed you as you sat down to add the final touches to your Saipan video. It wasn’t hard to get lost in editing, your brain working overtime to adjust the exposure of the film, fade out the titles, and sync up the music. You relished the peacefulness of the early morning quiet, your life seeming to return to its normal rhythm even if just for a few moments. Your moleskine journal with edited itinerary notes sat next to the steaming second cup of black coffee just as the breakfast rush started to roll in and along with them an extremely flustered Jimin.  
“Y/N!” he crashed into the seat opposite you. “I thought you left!” His backpack sat beside yours on the floor as you stared at him confused.
“Where could I have possibly gone, Jimin?”
“I don’t know. You weren’t there when I woke up and neither was your stuff. I thought I overstepped last night and made you uncomfortable,” he said. Droplets of water fell from his hair and onto his white t-shirt. Your face softened.
“I needed some coffee. And to get some work done. You really thought I would have left you?” you asked curiously.
He shrugged and pushed his hand through his damp hair. “What reason would you have to stay?”
You opened your mouth and closed it. Jimin was right. You didn’t have to stay. It was possible that you could have just gone to the airport, given them your name, and be set - though that would have made for an awkward conversation whenever Jimin arrived as your seats were next to one another. You watched him head over to grab some food, greeting Sonia in passing, as he piled his plate high. He returned shortly after with Sonia and handed you a plate of fruit.
“She says you’ve been down here for hours and haven’t touched a thing; you need to eat. And she wanted to know if you enjoyed yesterday.” Sonia stood at the end of the table expectantly.
“It was really great. The museum was incredible. I really can’t thank you enough. And Jimin was a great tour guide. Did she see the pictures?” Jimin shook his head, his mouth stuffed with food as usual, before he thumbed the polaroids out of his wallet. Sonia cooed and the two of them chatted again, a slight blush overtaking the tips of Jimin’s ears.
“She said you look really beautiful and she’s happy you enjoyed yourself so much.” You thanked her as you chewed on a grape, wondering what else Jimin had left out of his translation. Too much was said for it to be condensed into a two-part sentence.
“What time is our flight leaving, Jimin? Michael wants me to send him the details.”
“So flight leaves at 1:40 pm and we board at 1:10 ish -“
“Holy fuck Jimin!” You slammed your laptop shut. “It’s 12:17! We have to go. Now. Fuck!” You shoved your journal into your backpack, the chair almost tipping back as you shot up from your seat. It took a few seconds for Jimin to realize just how far away from the airport you were before he too was out of his chair and shoving the last piece of pastry into his mouth. Sonia looked alarmed as you tried to return your dirty dishes until Jimin explained and she grabbed the plates out of your hands and yelled for William.
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You bounced your leg as you watched William weave through the midday traffic. The leather of the seat bench stuck to the underside of your thighs. Lunch hour traffic in Hong Kong was just as bad as in New York and you willed yourself to remain calm as you cruised down the highway. The wind roared through the open windows and whipped your hair around your face. It was torture leaving the fate of your on-time arrival in the hands of a man you had literally met yesterday in a pickup truck that you were sure was a few years older than you. You envied Jimin’s ability to look peacefully out of the window at the bustling city while the coil of nerves bundled tight in your belly rolling like the waves of the deep sea.
Michael had not texted you back and you worried that somehow your phone service had been cut off again. An irrational thought because it was nearing 1 am in New York, but your brain had seemed to have left rationale back with Sonia. The comfort that your early morning wake up had given you in addition to the previous night’s adventures had been ripped away from you. It was no longer only you and Jimin in the back seat; anxiety had squeezed in beside you. Tears pricked your eyes in frustration as you prayed you wouldn’t have another delay in finally getting to Bali.
“Don’t worry, Shutterfly. We’re going to make it. You’re not missing this flight. I promise,” Jimin said to you as William followed the signs for the departure terminal. You could barely offer him a smile as the looming structure that was Hong Kong International Airport grew closer.
William pulled his truck over to the sidewalk between a Kia and a Buick, the vehicle looking extremely ancient compared to the other two. “Have a safe flight. And Sonia expects to see you both again soon okay?” William declared. Jimin hopped down and turned to help you out of the truck.
“We’ll do our best,” Jimin muttered, glancing at you. “Thank you for everything, William. I’ll let you know when we land.”
“Thank you, William. It really meant a lot, you taking me in and stuff,” you added and he gave your shoulder a squeeze through the open window as Jimin shut the door.
“You two should hurry. Go,” he shooed you towards the terminal doors. Jimin said goodbye once more and then was pulling you through the automatic doors.
The two of you breezed through the other passengers checking their luggage as you used the machine kiosks bypassing any potential cheery airline workers. Jimin trailed behind you as you zipped through the slow-moving passengers, your eyes focused on the glass doors leading towards the security checkpoint.
“Hey! Slow down, Shutterfly. We’re going to make it, even if we have to run,” Jimin said as he picked up his pace to catch up with you. You did not want to have to run. You had never run for a flight in your entire life and you did not want to start now. You bounced from side to side as you moved painstakingly slow towards the immigration officer perched on her high chair. It was already 1 pm, but no one else seemed concerned, probably actually on time for their flight. You rolled your shoulders, trying to loosen the tension nestled between them.
“It’s okay, Y/N. It’s okay.” Jimin slipped his hand under your hair, his thumb rubbing gentle circles between the base of your neck and shoulders. You sighed and removed his hand, turning to face him.
“It’s not okay, Jimin. I don’t even know if they have my bag,” you huffed. You stepped forward to hand your passport and boarding pass to the officer.
“I’m sure they do, darling. As long as you have your -”
“I remember what you said about the tag, Jimin. That doesn’t change the fact that I could land in Bali without my bag. I don’t even have enough time to ask someone about it,” you snapped while placing your camera bags into the grey bins, your shoes following after. Jimin said nothing further as he emptied his own backpack, the book he had been reading more dog-eared than when you first saw it along with a leatherbound book.
Just as you were passing through the body scanner, an announcement blared through the terminal. “This is the last boarding call for passengers Park Jimin and Y/N Y/LN on flight 7860 with services to Bali, Indonesia at Gate C9. Again, would passengers Park Jimin and Y/N Y/L/N please report to Gate C9 for flight 7860 to Bali, Indonesia? Thank you.”
“Shit,” you exclaimed, shoving your hands through your hair as another TSA officer looked over your scan. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!”
“Alright, you’re good.” You didn’t wait for the last word to spill from his mouth before you were back in front of the conveyor belt waiting for your stuff to pass through its own scanner. Quickly and as carefully as you could, you zipped your cameras back up and tucked them into your backpack. Your hands were shaking.
“Don’t worry, Y/N! I got you!” Jimin called out as he moved around you. He was already packed up and taking off by the time you’d secured your things. You stared in disbelief as you watched him run through the departure terminal, not caring how many people stared at him. It looked like you would be doing the same.
You chased after him, clutching your passport and phone in your hand, chest heaving as you watched Jimin’s head disappear further into the crowd. Fuck, he was fast. You dodged the small children that waddled along with their parents and the elderly couples that squinted up at the screens to find their correct gates. Your legs burned as you pushed through the pain, the hallways of the airport being much longer than you remembered. You couldn’t afford to miss this flight.
Rounding the corner to gate C9, the seats were empty. The rest of the passengers had already boarded the plane. A few of the airline employees milled around getting ready to close the gate. One was arguing with Jimin who refused to walk through the doors so they couldn’t close it.
“Look! There she is. I told you!” Jimin was standing in the doorway leading down the aircraft gangway, blocking the airline employees from closing the door. They looked highly irritated.
“Miss Y/L/N?”
“Yes, that’s me. I’m so sorry!” you apologized while handing over your boarding pass for it to be scanned. Your face felt hot from all the attention but you pushed it down. There was nothing else to worry about.
“Have a safe flight,” the employee mumbled as he handed you back the pass. You smiled, relieved.
Jimin grinned at you as he jogged towards the plane, his hair bouncing with every step. “I told you we wouldn’t miss the flight, Shutterfly.”
Ignoring all the nasty looks you received as you walked down the aisle of the plane, you and Jimin flopped down into your respective seats, tired from your sprint to the gate. The usual airplane routine started up as the plane left the gate and you relaxed in your seat as you watched the tarmac roll by through the window. Running was not your forte and you wondered if you should have considered Michael’s offer to be his plus one at Planet Fitness more seriously. You could feel the sweat bead around your hairline. A shower would be great once you reached your accommodations. You sat up abruptly.
“Fuck,” you whispered, grabbing your phone.
“What’s wrong?” Jimin asked, fastening his seatbelt.
Scrolling through your numerous email notifications, you saw the one you were praying wouldn’t be there. Airbnb reservation canceled in the subject line. Fuck.
“Ma’am, could you please turn off your cell phone or switch it to airplane mode? The plane is getting ready for departure,” a stewardess chided you. You nodded and tucked it back into your pocket, dazed. In 5 hours and 5 minutes, you would be landing in Ngurah Rai International Airport with nowhere to stay for 9 days. Shit.
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“You’re chewing your lip again.”
“Huh?” You looked over at Jimin who was still reading The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka, his body feigning disinterest but you knew he was paying attention to you.
“You were chewing your lip. It’s your tell-tale sign that something’s wrong,” he replied as he turned the page. You opened your mouth to protest but closed it quickly. He was right.
“How did you know though?” you asked, tucking your hair behind your ear, now extremely conscious that he had been observing you.
“What are you worrying about? Your project? Y/N, it’s going to be amazing. This is what you love doing, right? You can do it,” Jimin encouraged, bookmarking his page and looking at you.
“I don’t know, Jimin. A romantic getaway? That displays passion and love? Those are things I haven’t felt in a very long time,” you noted. The memories of Tiago swirled at the corners of youe mind and you sighed in frustration that you thought about him again.
“Bullshit,” he said. Jimin tucked his book into the seatback pocket in front of him. “Love doesn’t have to only be romantic, Y/N. There are so many incredible forms of love out there. The love people have for their families, for their jobs, for their - I don’t know - neighbors they only see on Sundays because they do laundry at the same time. We love just because. There really doesn’t have to be a reason,” he finished. You stared at him. His brown eyes were bright with passion and his face was set in determination to convince you what he was saying was true. You were amazed at his belief in his own words.
“Do you think you could say that again? On film, though.” He laughed at you as you went to pull out your camera but he stopped you.
“I keep telling you, Y/N. If you want me to be your muse, all you have to do is ask,” he said with a smirk. You rolled your eyes as you rested the camera in your lap. “But if you really do want my help, I’ll be happy to work with you on your project.”
“Seriously?”
He nodded and smiled. “Seriously. This is important to you. I want to help.”
You tried to hide your smile. Though it was something simple, Jimin supporting your craft was something you hadn’t experienced in years. People didn’t believe in the arts as much as they liked to consume it. “Thank you, Jimin. That really means a lot to me.”
“Remember I told you I’d show you what love is? This is a great way to do it.” Jimin grinned as you laughed at him.
“And what do you know about love, Mr. Park?” you asked jokingly. Jimin averted his eyes, his smile less vibrant than before.
“You’d be surprised,” he said with a shrug.
“More lessons from Mr. Park Sr.?” you joked again, poking his shoulder, trying to lighten his sudden change of mood. He chuckled lowly.
“Some. A lot I learned on my own.”
“A lot? What’s your favorite one?” you posed. You were intrigued about a Jimin who had seen these many sides of love. Who was he beforehand? How had he changed? “Have you ever had your heart broken?”
“Yep,” he said, popping the ‘p’. “A few times. I guess you could say the last one was the worst,” he commented.
“Would you like to share?” you asked gently, not wanting to overstep your boundaries.
“I can. Especially if it’ll help you believe in love.” He wiggled his eyebrows and you shoved his shoulder gently. “I assume you’ve also had your heart broken?” You nodded. “Hmm. Well, Shutterfly. Sit back, relax, and let me tell you the story of Alexandria.” Jimin eased his seat back and turned his head to face you, his fingers laced and resting in his lap. He looked as though he was in a therapist’s office to talk about his trauma and the feelings associated with them. Depending on the nature of the story, he might need to go and see one.
“Lexa and I met during my Freshman year of college. She was tall, slim figure, very ‘plain Jane’ except for her copper-colored hair. She was really a brunette, but in certain lighting, it looked red. Then she started toning it - it doesn’t matter. Anyway, I was hanging out with a bunch of friends in the library studying for this major test when she walked by and that was it; I was a goner. We ended up having a class together the following semester where I found out she was a Sophomore -”
“Ooh! An older woman?!” You perked up in your chair at the new detail. “I never would have -”
“Pegged me for the type? We’re back on that, Y/N?” he asked with a wry grin. You blushed at the memory and sank back down.
“Continue,” you whispered sheepishly.
“So she was a Sophomore studying Psychology with a minor in Creative Writing. She was a force to be reckoned with and I thought I had no chance with her until she asked me to hang out. I honestly couldn’t believe she was interested in me. We didn’t start dating until my Junior year of college, both of us traveling abroad the previous year, and we were really happy together.” Jimin smiled fondly as he recalled the memories and your heart fluttered in anticipation of what went wrong. “I proposed at my graduation while she was -”
“Excuse me? What?!” you exclaimed, staring at him in shock. “You proposed?!” He laughed at your reaction.
“Of course. I loved her and it was the right thing for me to do at the time,” he replied. That couldn’t be it.
“You got her pregnant, didn’t you?” He laughed again, this one vibrating through his entire body as he clutched his stomach; he didn’t seem concerned about the noise level.
“No, Y/N. I proposed because I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.”
“Wow,” you breathed, amazed at his level of commitment at such a young age. To know who you wanted to spend the rest of your life with and be ready to take that risk? He had to be crazy. “Wait. How old are you?”
“I’m 26. This happened around 2 and a half years ago, I think. Well, it’s been 2 and a half years since she called off our engagement,” he added matter-of-factly.
“Fuck,” you grimaced. “What happened?”
“She fell out of love. She wasn’t there when I woke up the following morning - we had moved in together while she worked on her thesis and I started grad school. The ring was placed on a neatly written note and all of her things were gone. Said she needed a man that had a little more - she ‘couldn’t put her finger on it’. Less stoic, more spontaneous. Something like that.” Jimin shrugged, the smile no longer reaching his eyes.
“But she knew how you were when you first got together. That’s some bullshit,” you muttered. Anger flared deep in your gut as you thought about this Alexandria stealing away in the middle of the night leaving Jimin alone to deal with the consequences of her actions as the sun rose.
“No need to crucify her, Shutterfly. She made the best choice for her -”
“But she hurt you,” you interrupted, frowning.
“I don’t disagree, but she taught me my favorite lesson: love freely and without expectations. I lost myself trying to prove that I could be this manly man. That I was man enough to deserve a woman as incredible as her. I lost her because of impossible expectations I placed on myself. We were both at fault; she could have said something sooner. I just wrestle with my own transgressions more. At the end of the day, it made me a better man.”
Love freely and without expectations. How could he say that when the woman who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with left him? Alexandria was foolish to leave someone as admirable as Jimin behind. Your heart ached at him waking up and her no longer being there, having to read that she no longer wanted him. You guessed some explanation was better than having the door closed right in your face.
“And you survived all of this?”
“I’m here, aren’t I? Broken hearts aren’t as bad as they seem, Shutterfly.”
“To you, Jimin. Though I don’t know how you got through that,” you said shaking your head in disbelief.
“The same way you got through yours,” he replied seriously. “Tell me about him. Why don’t you believe in love anymore?”
“It’s not that I don’t believe in love anymore. I just don’t expect it to happen to me for a very long time,” you said pushing your hands through your hair. Jimin waited for you to continue expectantly. You sighed and threw your head back against the seat. “Alright, fine. His name was Tiago. I met him when I moved to California with my best friend. He was a TA in one of her classes and she introduced us. He was tall, Hispanic, with the tight ringlet curls. They were sun-bleached because he spent so much time at the beach. He had the most beautiful hazel eyes too,” you added. You don’t think there was a woman alive who could deny how attractive Tiago was.
“He was smart too, attending law school - Gould School of Law at USC to be exact. I was working as a photography assistant in a studio downtown and he seemed interested in my work. We started hanging out and after a few months, we started dating. Things were really good for a while. I thought I had found my home in him, especially after leaving Milo back in New York. I thought he understood what I was going through. He didn’t.” You closed your eyes as you breathed through the memory of the pain.
“After a year of good times, things started to get weird. Some random phone calls he started taking in other rooms, less planned dates, less attention overall. I ignored it, especially after we had a conversation about possibly moving in together. That was a little too far for me so I was thinking of giving him a key to my apartment - I had gotten a promotion at the studio I was working at and could finally afford my own place,” you said with a grin. “I went to his apartment with the key in a little box and when I knocked on the door, a woman answered.”
“Shit,” Jimin whispered. He rested his hand on your knee and you looked at him with a small smile.
“Yeah. She asked who I was - if she could help me, and before I could answer, Tiago appeared looking fresh out the shower and said I wasn’t ‘anyone important. Just a friend of a friend’s who was supposed to take their anniversary portraits’ and closed the -”
“What the fuck, Y/N?! Please don’t tell me that he closed the door in your face.” Jimin’s grip tightened as his jaw clenched. You nodded with another small smile. “That fucking asshole!” he roared. The lady in front of you turned to hush him. He ignored her.
“Mhm, he closed the door in my face. I think I stood there for 2 minutes before I called an Uber and headed home. A few days later, he texted me and told me that we couldn’t be together anymore - like no shit, dumbass. I found out through the grapevine that she had been his girlfriend for 2 and a half years on and off. They were very much on when we were dating. Remember that friend I told you I moved to Cali with? Apparently she knew but didn’t know how to break it to me. I packed up and moved to San Diego which is where I met Michael. He had seen some of my short films from a little exhibit we had on campus and thought he could help me get more work. That was a year and a half ago,” you finished.
“Y/N, I’m so sorry. He was a fucking dickhead to do that to you.” You waved Jimin off.
“Michael says the same thing - actually he calls him a son of a bitch. It’s fine though. But that’s the story. I’m still healing and building up trust with people. So I believe in love, I’ve just had some bad luck with it,” you said with a shrug. “I try not to dwell on it because -”
“It makes you anxious?” Jimin suggested. You gave him a tight lipped smile. His thumb stroked over your knee in soft brushes. “Well, we won’t talk about him then. Fuck him,” he grinned.
“Thanks, Jimin,” I laughed.
“And we’ll get this project done, yeah? Together?”
You looked at Jimin. He was smiling at you, his front tooth a little crooked but gleaming nonetheless. Tiny dimples appeared around the corners of his mouth - something you hadn’t noticed before. The little sun you had been in while in Hong Kong had started to turn his skin a caramel brown and you remembered the smoothness of his skin as you laid in bed. As the corners of his eyes wrinkled with warm affection and you smiled.
“Together.”
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full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next
joon-ipersgirl, 2020
16 notes · View notes
jamaisjoons · 6 years ago
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photobooth | knj
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Summary: You never knew fucking in a photobooth, while all your friends are on the other side, could be this sweet. University AU! Porn with like 30% plot.
Pairing: Namjoon x Reader ft. Jaebum
Genre: Fluff, Smut
Word Count: 12k
Warnings: excessive swearing as usual, namjoon being soft and cute as shit because that is a warning in itself, jealous possessive sex, also a jealous namjoon, soft dom namjoon, sub reader, public sex, exhibitionism, fingering, joonie with his sinful mouth aka dirty talk, joon’s giant schlong, camera sex, technical porno-graphy (they take pics of them fucking), finger sucking, joon’s wicked tongue aka eating pussy, blowjob, squirting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms, cum eating, cum play, handjob, degredation (use of slut), cum swallowing, gagging + choking (on cock), riding, penetrative sex, slight? pain kink, namjoon with A* stamina, creampie, cum feeding
A/N: There is actually only about 30% plot in this, I did the math. But also, please don’t ask me where this depraved fantasy was bred from because honestly, I have no words or excuses for the complete filth I just wrote.
It’s not very often that you find yourself partying. It’s not that you didn’t have an interest in it; it was more than you were partied out. Kind of sad and pathetic for someone who was still in their third year of university but it was the truth. You had practically exhausted yourself (and your bank account) during your first two years of university, attending every club night, house party and drinking related college event that you could. You were still known across campus as the first year girl who downed an entire bottle of tequila before stealing some traffic cones (causing several issues with traffic the next day) just so you could use the said cones as party hats for the various statues littered around your campus.
That day had practically gone down in history.
So yes, it’s not really very often that you find yourself attending parties anymore; preferring the comfort of your own home and bed where you could scroll endlessly through social media compared to being surrounded by drunk people you barely knew. The parties you now attended were few and far between; so why did you find yourself in Hoseok and Namjoon’s shared apartment this heinous Monday night? Well, because it was a celebration. Namjoon, one of your best friends and your boyfriend of almost a year, had released his first ever mixtape. You’d spent the entire day listening to the masterpiece of a mixtape on repeat, a mix of deep, philosophical songs and diss tracks with the rhythm and flow of all the anger and frustration he felt and still feels towards the people who didn’t believe in him or told him he’d never amount to anything.
You see, all his life, Namjoon had always been the most clever, intelligent boy to walk whatever school he attended. University was no different and thus, he’d obtained a full scholarship to study both mathematics and philosophy. However, as much as he enjoyed both of those subjects, his passion had always been music. That had obviously led to slight friction with his family, who both wanted to support him and his music, but also wanted to see him succeed in life. And writing and producing didn’t always lead to success. Namjoon had also received criticism for his lyrics, flow and rap from other rappers who felt they were better than him. Nevertheless, he’d never let him get to him and kept his head down, producing his music whenever he could around his degrees. And finally, it had paid off, with him releasing his first ever mixtape album.
Hence, you find yourself at Hoseok and Namjoon’s apartment, for his congratulatory celebration. Hoseok’s state of the art speakers blared music so loud, you could feel the heavy bass reverberating through your bones. Not that most people seemed to mind, as the music was practically confined to the living room where most people were either dancing or just enjoying the music. If people wanted to speak, they were more than welcome to in the kitchen or rooftop, which consequently belonged to Hoseok and Namjoon as well. You were currently standing outside, breathing in the fresh air while Namjoon was conversing with Jackson, Yoongi and Wheein. Jimin and Jungkook were currently fighting over your best friend, Suri. Who had yet to decide who she was going to say yes to because somehow, she had fallen for both Busan boys.
Your other best friend and Suri’s sister, Sooji, was currently dancing on the table in the middle of the dance floor, her boyfriend of three years, Seokjin, was right next to her, egging her on as he drunkenly swayed left to right. Taehyung and his own paramour, Yena, were currently nestled in each other’s arms, whispering and giggling to each other. Thus, you found yourself on the rooftop, a drink in your hand with Hoseok and his girlfriend, Seokjin’s sister, Sooyun, at your side, keeping you company as you giggled at him. The poor boy had only had two drinks and yet he was flushed red and completely quiet, the complete opposite of what he was usually like while Sooyun, in her tipsy state, rambled on and on about something or the other. Honestly, she spoke so quick and changed topics so often, it was hard to keep up.
“____, I love you! I honestly love you so much. You’re so pretty, and you’ve got such nice hair” Sooyun gushed, reaching out and practically yanking at your locks. You winced slightly at the tipsy girl. Hoseok had his arms wrapped around her, leaning his head on her shoulder while he quietly watched the interaction between the two of you.
“I can’t believe you’re single, you should let us set you up!” Sooyun whined and you almost choke on your peach schnapps, lime vodka and lemonade concoction. You weren’t single. You were very much happily taken with the love of your life, Namjoon. Except, none of your friends knew that.
You’d been together almost a year, getting together in your second year. You’d initially kept it a secret because you weren’t sure whether it was going to go anywhere and you didn’t want friends butting into a relationship that was so new; especially since you were both a part of the same friendship group. But after the first couple of months, you’d just gotten so used to being in your bubble and being able to get away from your friends that you’d decided to just keep it to yourself for a bit longer. It was easy enough, you lived alone and so Namjoon and you had spent most of your time locked in your apartment. But then, the time kept passing and suddenly, your first anniversary was nearing and none of your friends knew of your relationship with Namjoon. Just as you were about to refute her words, Sooyun shakes off Hoseok and grabs your hand.
“Come on! I’ll introduce you to someone right now! He’s one of Jinyoung’s friends. You know Jinyoung right? He’s on my Forensics course” Sooyun says as she drags you across the rooftop, directly across your boyfriend and his group of friends. Namjoon looks at you in surprise, watching your every move and you smile apologetically at him before shrugging. Both of you know how headstrong Sooyun is, and you both know that there’s absolutely no saying no to her when her mind is set on something. Thus, you simply let her drag you.
When she finally stops, it’s in front of two guys. One of them, you can distinctively remember is Jinyoung; who you’d met a couple of times when Sooyun was working on projects with him. The second, is a completely new face and you’re floored by how beautiful he is. He’s got sharp, cat-like dark eyes framed by long dark locks that swish in front of his eyes. His nose is straight and sharp, sitting above perfectly shaped, albeit thin pink lips and a sculpted jaw that completes his face. He truly is one of the most attractive men you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting and if you weren’t already happy in a relationship with Namjoon, you’d have kissed Sooyun for this meeting. However, you weren’t single and you could both feel and see Namjoon’s gaze on you from the corner of your eye.
“Jinyoung-ah! Jaebum-ah hi! This is my friend, ____. ____, this is Jaebum and Jinyoung!” Sooyun says and Jaebum sends Jinyoung a look before smiling briefly at you. Jinyoung, however, scoffs and raises his eyebrow.
“Sooyun-ah, is this another one of your matchmaking schemes? Because the last time you did this, you tried to set up Yugyeom with Hwasa and you know how that ended” Jinyoung says sternly but Sooyun just waves him off.
“I should have known that their personalities would clash but it’s fine. And this isn’t a set up. I’m just introducing you to one of my best friends. Who just happens to be single” Sooyun says with a slight slur and you blush as Jaebum looks you up and down with a smirk.
“She’s cute, I’ll give her that. ____, was it?” Jaebum says before turning to you and you nod, blushing despite yourself.
“Perfect! I’ll just leave you both to it. Jinyoung, we have a project to discuss, don’t we?” Sooyun says as she grabs Jinyoung by the arm before tugging him.
“Ya, why would we need to discuss that now? Sooyun-ah? YAH!” Jinyoung protests as he’s dragged away, leaving you and Jaebum alone. You resist the urge to face palm yourself before nervously giggling as you turn back to Jaebum.
“Sorry about her. She’s kind of hard to say no to when she gets like that. Especially after a couple of drinks” You say sheepishly and Jaebum waves it off.
“I’ve been told. Yugyeom almost cried after the entire Hwasa situation, Apparently, she thought he was too cute and laidback” Jaebum says and you both laugh, thankful for the ice breaker.
“Cute laugh, suits a cute girl” Jaebum says as he leans forward slightly with a smirk before sipping his drink. Your eyes widen slightly and you shake your head at him.
“Hey listen, I know she said I was single… but I’m not. I’m actually seeing someone” You say and Jaebum’s eyes widen slightly before he backs up. He raises his eyebrow at you, waiting for you to explain a bit more.
“They don’t know. As in my friends don’t know. We haven’t told them yet. We kinda just liked being by ourselves, I guess? You know how big our group can be. It was nice being able to spend time just with each other, especially since we were so new. We were kinda worried that they’d immediately want us to start doing couple-y things… so we just never told them. But it’s a year in about two weeks” You quickly explain and Jaebum nods along.
“Yeah, I understand. At least, the needing the privacy thing. But damn, that’s a long time to keep something from your friends. It’s Namjoon-ssi isn’t it?” Jaebum asks and your eyes widen in alarm.
“Wha- how did you know?” You exclaim and Jaebum laughs at you.
“Well, Jackson always mentions how his ‘best buddy’ always seems to be busy because he’s hanging out with you. I don’t know how no one’s noticed to be honest. But also, he hasn’t stopped glaring at me since Sooyun-ah dragged you here, I’m kind of afraid he’s going to deck me or something” Jaebum says with an easy laugh and you stiffen, looking over at Namjoon. Jaebum was right, Namjoon was glaring daggers at the other male. You catch his attention and send him an easy smile and he’s immediately placated. His features relax, but you notice the slight clenching of his jaw and you know you’re not out of the frying pan yet. You turn back to Jaebum and give him a reassuring smile.
“Don’t worry, he won’t hit you. I don’t think…” You trail off before shaking your head as you reassure the man, “No. No, he definitely won’t. Don’t worry, although I should probably go before he really gets angry. It was nice to meet you Jaebum-ssi” You say with a slight bow and Jaebum nods.
“Same here. Although, if you and Namjoon-ah ever break up, let me know” Jaebum says with a wink and you smack him playfully before turning around. You look over to where Namjoon was previously, but he’s no longer there. Your eyebrows scrunch in puzzlement as you look around, but it’s like he’s pulled a Houdini and completely disappeared. You frown before you walk around, looking for him.
He’s almost nowhere to be found on the rooftop, so you decide to check inside. You’re walking past the photobooth Hoseok had hired for the day (‘It’ll be fun! People can put on the funny accessories and take pictures to remember the day! We need one and it’s so cheap to hire it’ he has argued when faced with the question of why exactly they needed a photo-booth) when suddenly, you’re pulled into said photo booth, with the curtain being shut immediately after. You open your mouth to scream when an arm wraps around your waist, a hand clasping around your mouth and muffling your impending shriek. Your eyes widen when you come face to face with your boyfriend.
“Namjoon, what the fuck?” You yell when he finally takes his hand off of your mouth, hitting his chest lightly.
“Don’t what the fuck me. What were you doing flirting with Jaebum?” Namjoon asked, his eyes narrowing as his jaw juts out. He’s glowering down at you and you know you should probably feel threatened or somewhat fearful; but his anger only serves to turn you on.
“I wasn’t flirting with Jaebum!” You argue back. Briefly, you wonder if the both of you should be quieter, but you figure that considering the music is so loud, you’re both safe from prying ears.
“It certainly looked like you were. Why did Sooyun-ah drag you over there?” Namjoon asks and you stiffen slightly. You rub the back of your neck as you mumble your answer, avoiding his eyes. Namjoon’s eyes turn into slits as he cocks his head, trying to discern what you were saying.
“What did you just say?” Namjoon asks and you let out a small sigh, already knowing that he’s going to react explosively.
“She wanted to introduce me to him because she didn’t like that I was single” You finally say, your tone laced with exasperation and Namjoon’s hands smack into the photobooth wall behind you, caging you in, your knees slightly bent to accommodate the seat.
“What?” Namjoon grits out and you place your palms on his chest, trying to placate his anger.
“Namjoon! She doesn’t know we’re dating; her intentions were pure. Besides, I told him I was dating you as soon as he started flirting” You say in a rush before freezing, realising what you had just said. You quickly clamp your mouth shut, noticing the way his eyes darken at your words.
“He did what? H-He flirted with you? Are you fucking kidding me? I’m going to kill him” Namjoon says as he draws up to his full height, towering over you before turning around to leave the photo booth. Your eyes widen and you quickly grab his wrist and tug as hard as you can, pulling him back towards you. The booth is too small however, and he almost falls into you. Namjoon quickly catches himself, bracing his palms once again on the wall behind you.
“Stop! As soon as I said I was dating you, he stopped. Nothing happened. I’m yours Joonie, no one else’s” You say softly, your arms wrapping around his neck as you tip toe and kiss the bottom of his jaw.
“You’re right. You’re mine and no one else’s, especially not Jaebum’s” Namjoon says, his voice deep and husky. His words, paired with his tone, send shockwaves straight to your core and you can feel the beginnings of your arousal.
“And I’m going to show you, exactly why you’re mine and who you belong to” Namjoon continues before swooping down and capturing your lips with his. His arms snake around your waist and pull you closer into his hard, defined chest. You let out a moan, your fingers curling into the locks at the nape of his neck as you deepen the kiss. His tongue swipes your lip, asking for entrance and you allow him access. His tongue slips into your mouth and your tongues begin dancing; massaging and twirling around each other.
You moan into the kiss, tugging his hair slightly as you try to pull him closer to you. Namjoon’s slender fingers begin making quick work of your shirt, unbuttoning each button one by one before slipping it off of your body. His hands move to rest on your hips, trailing up and down your side before he unclasps your bra. He breaks off the kiss and begins peppering kisses down your jaw and towards your neck, suckling pink bruises onto your skin. His hands deftly slip under your bra, hand splayed across the side of your ribcage as a thumb skilfully works your nipple into hardened peaks. His soft touches send shiver across your spine and you cry out when he rolls your nipple under his thumb.
“Fuck, Joon… we can’t. Not here” You say, in a half assed attempt to get him to stop, but even as you say that, you pull him closer and he smiles against your collarbone; where he continues to pepper small kisses over the expanse of the skin.
“Yeah baby. Right here, where anyone could walk in on us. Where Jaebum can hear you. I want them to know. I want everyone to know that you’re mine and no one can have you. You’re mine… just like I’m yours” Namjoon whispers, brushing his lips against your lips before tenderly kissing the side of your mouth. His hands trail down from their place on your breasts to the buttons of your jeans and he begins unbuttoning them before slipping them down to your thighs. His hand then begins trailing along your mon pubis, back and forth in light touches. You buck your hips into him, lips drawn between your teeth as you quietly plead with him to give you what you want. You can feel your wetness sticking and unsticking to the lace of your panties with every one of his movements. Your pussy began clenching as he slowly got closer and closer towards cupping your slick sex.
“Joonie… Joonie please. I need something… anything” You plead and Namjoon pressed his lips into your temple.
“Anything for my baby” He says and then his hand slips under your panties, bypassing your clit and aiming straight for your slightly wet hole; immediately thrusting his middle finger into you. You let out a small moan of surprise, slight pain but mainly pleasure. His finger wasn’t wet enough to enter you without the mild discomfort, but now that he was in you, your slick was lubricating his digits.
“Shit baby, I could barely get my finger in. How are you this fucking tight? I swear, no matter how much or how often I fuck you open, you always stay as tight as the first night I fucked you. I’m gonna have to stretch that pretty little cunt for me aren’t I?” Namjoon hisses as he feels you clench around his finger.
“Oh god” You whimper, biting your lips hard as he forces a second finger into you. You lean forward, resting your head just under his collarbone as he continues pressing his long fingers as deep into you as they can go, the pads of his fingers pressing softly against your g-spot. He slowly slides his fingers out of you before pressing them slowly into you once again, slowly fucking you open. You let out a small whine as you feel him stretch you open, your hips softly pressing further into his hand, grinding down on his hand, as you silently beg him for more. Suddenly, he begins retracting his fingers from you, but this time, he doesn’t slide back in; instead, he pulls out and begins rubbing your juices all over your pussy before his thumb brushes your clit.
You cry out at how sensitive the bundle of nerves is, throbbing and hard, crying out for the stimulation that it had been denied. But now that it was being touched, it was slightly over sensitised and Namjoon’s light touches only caused in making your thighs shake slightly. Then, he thrusts his fingers back into you and this time, the stretch is slightly easier to take. You thought you’d be able to remain quiet, but as he begins thrusting his fingers into you, the pad of his thumb rubs lazy circles into your pulsing clit and a small moan escapes your lips.
“Your pussy feels so good around my fingers baby. You feel so soft and wet inside, fuck… I can’t get enough of your pussy. I love the way you feel, whether it’s around my fingers, or my tongue… but I especially love how you feel around my cock” Namjoon whispers in your ear and his words force your walls to clench around him, causing him to groan throatily right beside your ear. You’re breathing heavily, forehead still braced against his chest and he thrusts slowly and deeply into you.
“Joon-ie” You stutter, your voice cracking when he begins pressing a third finger into you. Your eyes scrunch up and you breathe heavily, your wrists curling around his shirt as he continues pushing his third digit into you, stretching your tight pussy even further.
“Joonie, I can’t… it’s too much. Fuck, Joonie… it hurts” You moan, grabbing his wrist with one hand, stopping his movement when his third finger is as deep into you as it can go. He hushes you, pressing comforting kissing into the crown of your head as he waits for you to adjust to being spread around his digits.
“Shh, it’s okay baby. You’re doing so well. You’re being so good for me” Namjoon soothes and you nod, the pain finally dulling enough for him to move. You know he has to stretch you out with at least three fingers or it’d be too difficult to take his cock in later but it didn’t negate the pain and discomfort you felt now. You release his wrist and Namjoon slowly begins thrusting his fingers in and out of you once again, his thumb once again rolling your clit in soft circles. Your nerves feel afire with all the stimulation you’re receiving and your eyes are focused on the way his hand looks inside your panties, the muscles in his well-defined arm flexing every time his fingers move into you; nerves bulging against the skin of his arm.
You finally gather enough semblance of yourself to move your hand to the obvious bulge in his trouser. You feel how long and unbelievably thick he is through his denim clad crotch. Your hands move, trying to undo his belt and take some of the clothes off of him. Your fingers however are too shaky, Namjoon still slowly drawing out your pleasure in the cruellest of ways. You can feel the heat pooling in your belly, the slow burn slowly driving you insane as with each thrust of his fingers he hits your g-spot briefly, adding to your pleasure induced haze.
“Mmm, baby not yet. I want to try something first. Do you trust me?” Namjoon asks and you have no idea why he questions it, because your trust and faith in him has never once waivered.
“You know I do Nams” You reply without hesitating and Namjoon smiles at you, the indentations that are his dimples deepen and your heart skips a beat.
“I love you” Namjoon says and your eyes are hazy with lust but you smile lazily and kiss his neck before murmuring back your own ‘I love you’. He slowly slides his fingers free, his fingers slipping out with a small pop and you can feel the slight ache in your walls from being stretched but you suddenly feel empty, whining for him to fill you again and make you cum. Namjoon laughs deeply at you before spinning you around so you were facing the photobooth camera. He manoeuvres you so you’re braced against it, palms pressed either side of the camera. Your eyes widen in surprise when you realise you’re in perfect position for the photobooth camera to capture your illicit actions.
“Joon?” You ask nervously and he presses a comforting kiss into your back, between your shoulder blades.
“This is your punishment baby. I told you, I’m going to show you who you belong to. I’m going to run that camera, and we’re going to capture just how good you are for me, how fucked out I make you. I’m going to capture every facial expression, the way you look with my fingers, tongue or cock buried in you, the way you moan for me. I’m going to capture your face when you cum. I’m going to show you that you belong to me and no one else. That no one can love you the way I do, make you feel the way I do, fuck you the way I do” Namjoon murmurs, his words rumbling deep within his chest and your throat goes dry, your eyes almost rolling back into your skull. It’s completely vulgar and his words are filth, spoken by his sinful tongue. And yet, you can feel yourself gush, suddenly wanting everything he was willing to give you and so much more.
“Does my little slut like that? Do you want me to fuck you in front of this camera?” Namjoon asks and you nod eagerly, Namjoon smirking down at you. He spanks your ass slightly, groaning in appreciation at the way it jiggles. His fingers that were once buried deep in your cunt are now found between your lips. He sticks his fingers in your mouth and you immediately wrap your lips around them, licking and sucking your arousal clean from his digits. You rolled your tongue over his fingers, tasting your own juices.
“Fuck, you’re a sin” Namjoon hisses as he pulls his fingers out. He then crouches down, undoing your shoes before helping you slip them off, and the slides your jeans off of you too. He does however, leave your panties on. Namjoon quickly undresses himself too, leaving him in just his black boxers that do nothing to hide his hardened cock. He presses his cock into your clothed pussy and you let out a sharp hiss before it turns into a moan at the feel of his heat next to your own. He turns your head to the side before dropping down for a kiss and suddenly, you forget where you are. You lose yourself in the feel of his thick, luscious lips against your own, the silken feel of his tongue dancing against yours. You bite his lip playfully and Namjoon presses his fingertips harder into your hips, slowly grinding his cock in harsh movements against your wet heat. Namjoon’s fingers flit up your side and you squirm against him, laughing into the kiss and Namjoon pulls away, grinning down softly at your giggling figure.
“It tickles” You say and Namjoon wiggles his fingers into your side a bit more, forcing another laugh out of you before he leans over and buries his face into your neck. He breathes in your scent deeply, his hands trailing up your stomach to cup your breast, rolling and softly massaging them in his huge palms. He slowly kisses his way down your neck, tracing kisses down your spine until he’s on his knees behind you. He places two small kisses on either of your butt cheeks before pressing light kisses against your inner thighs. He can smell how strong your scent is, the muskiness of your arousal so strong that it almost drives his insane.
He slowly hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties, pulling the lace down slowly. He watches the way he slowly removes your sodden panties, loving how they slowly peel from where they’re clinging to your pussy lips. He lets out a shaky breath as strings of your arousal stick to the material before slowly breaking. You’re completely drenched. Your juices are slowly dripping down from your cunt, you’re a complete mess, arousal thick and sticky, as it runs down your inner thighs. He finally pulls them off and they drop to the floor in such a state of ruin that you know you’ll never be able to wear them again. When you’re finally exposed you shudder, the heat of Namjoon’s breath and slight chill of the night draft through the photo booth curtain only adding to the sensation.
“Turn the booth on sweetheart” Namjoon finally says and with shaky hands you click the buttons you need to. Silently, you thank Hoseok for the photo booth, but especially because he had it rigged to take as many pictures as you wanted before it stopped. Obviously, he hadn’t intended it to be used for this reason, but you figured ‘hey, what the hell?’. You clicked the infinite option, which would take photos every 30 seconds. It also meant you’d have to personally stop it from taking pictures. The countdown began. 5 seconds to go and Namjoon spread your legs slightly, so you could accommodate him between your legs better. 3 seconds to go and Namjoon spreads your ass cheeks with his hands, exposing your cunt for his eyes to feast upon. 1 second to go and he buries his face deep within your pussy, licking a stripe from your clit to your leaking hole. The second his lips touch you, your eyes flutter shut and your face crumples in elation as you moan, and the camera clicks that exact second.
Namjoon smirks between your folds before once again laving his tongue against the entirety of your sex, from the source of your leaking arousal to your hardened, pulsing clit. He lashes his tongue against you, twisting and rolling the appendage against your soaked cunt lips. He stiffened his tongue before he began licking your clit. His tongue swiped the bundle of nerves again and again and your hands curled into fists as you moaned out his name, attempting to grind your hips into his face. He continued teasing circles around your clit before wrapping his lips around it, suckling it between those two pillowy lips of his.
The second you threw your head back, the camera clicked again and you gushed around his tongue. You had been so consumed by the intoxicating ecstasy your boyfriend was lavishing on you, that you had forgotten you were being photographed. His lips continuously suckled and flicked your clit with his tongue, one of his hands moving to brush his fingers against your clenching pussy once again. You mewled out his name, bucking into him as you begged for more and Namjoon, never wanting to disappoint you, gave you what you wanted. He began slipping two fingers into you, and this time you were wet enough that they slid in easier.
“Shiiit” You murmured as you felt him finger you open once again. Namjoon began sucking harder, moaning around your clit and causing your legs to shake on either side of him. His fingers began pumping into you, and then he curled them inside you and your knees buckled when his fingers hit your g-spot. You could feel your long-anticipated orgasm slowly building up. All the stress, the tension, the slow burn of pleasure caused by Namjoon’s languid pace, his teasing and tantalising touches were slowly stroking the fire building in your loins. Every suck and lick of your clit, every thrust of his fingers into you, the way he was moaning against your cunt, the rhythmic clicking of the camera, were causing sharp thrums of pleasure to burn through your veins. You were turned on beyond belief and you knew that you were going to cum soon. You could feel it building, growing exponentially with every moment.
“You taste so good sweetheart. You’re dripping all over my mouth. Fuck, you’re so wet. You’ve never been this wet before. Do you like me eating you out in front of a camera? I think you do. I think you get off on the thought of me or someone else seeing you like this. But, fuck me baby. You taste so good, the sweetest cunt I’ve ever eaten. I could eat you out forever” Namjoon says from between your legs as he begins working you over faster. His finger bury deeper into you, curling slightly more, brushing against your spongy g-spot in a brutal rhythm. You moan, gyrating your hips against his face as you mewl and gasp his name out repeatedly, as if it’s the only prayer on your lips. Distantly, you acknowledge the voice and party going on outside the booth, but it only serves to turn you on more.
“Namjoon… please” You plead and he starts sucking and licking harder, adding a third finger into you. Your legs stiffen at the stretch once again but you power through it, eyes shut and leaking with the tears from the pleasure wrought on your body. You can feel the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever had build inside you and it was slowly driving you to the brink of insanity. Your legs are shaking almost non-stop at this point, but Namjoon perseveres, finger fucking and eating you out to the best of his ability. You’re so wet, you can hear the squelching of your wetness every time Namjoon thrusts his digits into you.
He sucks even harder on your clit than he had before, all three fingers thrusting in and out of you so quick, your walls convulse uncontrollably around them. He slightly parts his lips from around your clit and begins licking at the bundle of nerves while suckling. You clenched your eyelids tighter and felt the tears at the corners. And then, he reaches up and pinches your nipple as hard as he can and you let out a small shriek at the pain mixed with the pleasure. But it’s all it takes to push you over the edge.
Before you can stop yourself, you shriek out his name. Your body feels like it’s on fire, your skin prickling with every sensation imaginable as your muscles quake, legs spasming involuntarily around Namjoon’s head. And then you felt it. Your cunt clenched rhythmically, your wetness gushing out of you in pulses, all over Namjoon face and fingers and all over the floor of the photobooth. The scent of sex heightens impossibly, until all you can smell is your musky arousal in the air. The pleasure doesn’t subside after first few squirts, it only intensifies with Namjoon’s continuous ministrations. He’s moaning against your clit, the vibrations only adding to your pleasure as you soak his hand and face.
Your legs both feel numb and like jelly and you’re completely certain that if it weren’t for your intense bracing against the wall and Namjoon’s hand still on your breast keeping you up, you would have been a quivering mess crumpled on the floor, moaning uncontrollably. You want to push Namjoon away, but he continues his actions, riding out your orgasm. You feel too sensitive, too raw and it’s beginning to hurt, but you can’t find the energy to push him away. Instead, you breathe heavily, trying to get your breathing back under control as you ride the after waves of your orgasm. But then Namjoon presses his fingers deeper into you, right up against your g-spot and begins massaging and rubbing it and suddenly you’re thrust into your second orgasm, immediately after your first. It was harder this time, the constant stimulation of your g-spot intensifying every ounce of pleasure you feel. You cum so hard that it hurts as much as it feels good and you’re shrieking his name out once again.
You pray that the music is still blaring, because there is no way the people outside wouldn’t have heard you otherwise. You close your eyes once again, this time the tears flowing freely as you clench and unclench your fingers. Your entire body stays trembling as you once again ride the aftershocks of your second orgasm. Your mind has gone blank and you’re nothing but a blubbering, moaning mess on top of Namjoon. Namjoon is finally slowing down, but the stimulation is still too much so you begin squirming. You let out small whines of protest as you pull away and Namjoon finally gets the message. His fingers slowly leave your spasming cunt walls, lips dislodging from around your clit. He grins up at you, the entire bottom half of his face covered in copious amounts of your slick. Your cum was all over his face, his shoulders, his chest and his hand and you blush brightly as you look down at his glistening top half.
“You did so good for me sweetheart. I can’t wait to see those pictures later. Fuck, you squirted all over me baby. Are you okay?” Namjoon asks as he rises from his knees and you lazily smile and nod. He lets your body go and your knees immediately buckle. Namjoon’s eyes widen but he quickly catches you, arms around your waist once again as he pulls you into his chest.
“Joonie… fucking…. amazing. I’ve never… fuck… can’t think” You stutter out and Namjoon chuckles, kissing your temple as he waits for you to get a hold of yourself. One arm lazily travels up and down your back and you feel the blissful feeling of love wash over you.
“I love you” You say lazily as you smile up at him and Namjoon grins, dimples popping out before he bends over and kisses you. You move your hand and palm at his dick as you finally begin gaining your wits about you.
“I want you. I want you in me, somewhere. Anywhere. I just need to feel you. Joonie please. Please” You beg and Namjoon tilts your chin up and kisses you hard. You moan as you taste yourself on his tongue and lips before you break the kiss, peppering kisses and suckling around his jaw as you taste yourself on his skin.
“Sit down, I want you to fuck my throat” You say, gesturing to the seat and Namjoon lets out a small groan. He quickly kicks off his boxers before taking a seat. Your eyes darken as you take him in, in all his glory. His deep golden tanned skin glistens with your juices in the light; and his muscular chest and toned arms are somewhat accentuated by the light reflecting off your cum. His thighs are thick, spread due to the seat under them and his cock stands proud between slightly spread thighs. His cockhead is purple and angry, and you swear you can see it twitch every now and then.
You lower onto your knees in between his legs, looking up at him as you palm at his dick. He was so hot and hard beneath your palm and so impossibly thick that even wrapped around his shaft, your fingers couldn’t touch each other. He was leaking with pre-cum, the sticky white substance pumping out of his slit and slicking his entire cockhead in his own arousal. You begin to pump the hand wrapped around his shaft up and down his length. Namjoon lets out a shuddering hiss as your wrist rubs his length, the pad of your thumb brushing against his precum covered slit as you spread his stickiness around more. It twitches under your touch, much like you had seen it do when he had sat down and you relish in the notion of having some semblance of control. It’s unusually rare for you to have this much control, Namjoon was always the more dominant one. But you had always savoured that, always revelled in how dominant and firm, yet soft he was with you.
“Don’t tease me baby, you know what happens when you do” Namjoon threatens lightly and your pussy clenches, undoubtedly dripping more of your juices onto the floor under you. And this is exactly what you meant. Even when you were in control, you weren’t. You had never and would never harbour any illusions of being able to overpower or be in control of your boyfriend. That being said, with the way he twitched and groaned under you as you palmed his cock, you knew that he was ready to explode and you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t be torturing him. Consequences be damned.
You continued your languid pace, pressing soft kisses on his thick, tanned thighs, so close to his cock and yet so far. Namjoon watched you under half-lidded eyes, his smouldering gaze boring into you as the muscles in his jaw flexed. He raised his eyebrow slightly and you grinned, pressing another kiss onto his left thigh. A string of gooey pre-cum began exuding out of his slit, thick and slightly translucent white and you brushed your thumb against it before bringing it to your lips, licking his essence off of him. Namjoon’s throat rumbled in appreciation and you returned your hand to him, fisting his monstrous cock up and down. You lightly dug your nails into the sensitive flesh before you began raking them down, all the way to his balls, stimulating the sensitive sack. Namjoon let out another hiss, his head thrown back and fists clenched on either side.
“I thought you wanted to be a good for me baby? Thought you wanted me to fuck your throat like my good little slut” Namjoon says simply and your walls clench. He runs his fingers through your hair before firmly grabbing the locks, tugging at them and bringing your face closer to his dick. With that simple manoeuvre, he somehow has all the control back and you grip his shaft harder, pumping him up and down once before sticking your tongue out and swirling it around the tip of his still oozing cockhead. It twitches under you once again, and you swear you feel him pulse and grow even bigger and harder – if that was possible.
You lick at him again, eyes gazing up from on your knees, locked with his own smouldering gaze. Namjoon’s fingers lightly tug at your locks and you open your mouth in response, jaw stretched and just about wide enough to take his head in. You hold yourself there, lips suctioned around the mushroom tip while you continuously swirl your tongue and lightly suckle on him, tasting his essence in full on your tongue. His thick precum coats your tongue and you know you’ll be tasting him for a while after you stop fucking. Namjoon leans back slightly, pushing your head down further onto him while his own is thrown back and resting against the wall behind him.
You continue running your tongue up and down his shaft before slowly allowing him to split your jaw open as he pushes more and more of his cock into your wide-open mouth. You gently sucked more and more of him into you, almost gagging when his tip hits the back of your throat. Your eyes burn with tears and you hold yourself for a bit, waiting for it to subside. You’ve still got a few inches of his cock to go before he’s fully in your mouth and no matter how many times you had sucked him off, you never truly got used to his length or girth. The sensitivity between your legs was also slowly subsiding and your thighs squirmed slightly, wanting something to fill you up once again.
Once you adjusted more to him in your mouth, you pushed yourself down the final couple inches before your nose was pressed against his abdomen. You lightly tap Namjoon’s thigh, letting him know you were ready. And then it begins. Namjoon’s thighs flex and he thrusts up into your mouth. You gag slightly, reminding yourself to breathe through your nose as he begins thrusting in and out of your throat. He starts of slow, allowing you to get used to the feel of him slowly entering past the back of your throat but before long, his pace increases and he’s fucking into your throat hard and deep. Your finger nails dig into his thighs, leaving crescent shaped wells into his taught skin as he continues forcing himself down your throat.
“Fuck. Fuck, your mouth is so good. So- so… fucking hot… and w-wet. Shit, fuck baby. You’re- so good… for me. Only… for me. No one… not even Jaebum- can fuck your throat like this. Only me… only ever me” Namjoon groans, his voices stuttering as he revels in the euphoria of his hot, sensitive cock in your soft, velvety mouth. You can feel him twitch and pulse in your mouth and know he’s going to cum soon. One of your hands moves to play with his balls, slowly palming and rolling the sack in your hand, nails lightly racking it. His pace falters slightly before he thrusts particularly hard, burying his cock as deep into your throat as he can. You gag and choke, tears spilling down your cheek and faintly you hear the camera continuously click in the background.
And then he erupts. You hear him hiss and groan above you, hips lightly gyrating into your throat as his cock erupts. You taste and feel his hot, gloopy cum pump directly down your throat, clogging up your oesophagus. He cums so much, it floods back into your mouth and then you can taste his salty, slightly bitter cum. Namjoon’s fingers clench and unclench around your scalp, his breathing laboured as he comes back down from his high. You try your best to swallow as much as of his cum as you can, your eyes shutting as you relish in his taste. Once he’s finally spent, he pulls you off of his cock and you begin licking up the remnant of his cum around his cock.
When you’re done, Namjoon tugs your hair slightly and you open your eyes, looking up at him. When your vision comes into focus and your gazes lock, Namjoon seems to look at you with nothing but unbridled lust, only beaten by the sheer amount of love he holds in his eyes, all for you. Your eyes mirror his own gaze, the unspoken passion for each other alight on both your faces. Namjoon slowly lifts you up, pulling you so you’re straddling his lap. Your thighs are on either side of his legs and his cock is nestled in the crook of your thigh, incredibly close to your pussy.
“I really fucking love you” Namjoon says as his hand moves to the nape of your neck and then he pulls you in for a kiss. There’s no biting, or teasing, or tongues lashing against each other. You both simply lock lips and fall into sync as if you were destined for each other. He cups your face with one hand and holds you there, tongues dancing as he tastes himself on his own lips. Your hands move into his hair, messing up his sweat soaked locks as you pull him closer. The camera clicks in the background, but the two of you are too absorbed into each other to care. Then the kiss breaks natural as the two of you take a minute to catch your breaths.
“Are you ready? I need you inside me, please” You beg, the sensitivity in your cunt had long since faded and now you were consumed with the need to have him inside you.
“God, I need to be inside you. But I want you to face the camera, I want to capture the way you look when you first slide down my cock, the way I fill up and stretch out that pretty little cunt” Namjoon says as he spins you around to face the camera. Your legs are still in either side of him and you groan at the screen. The both of you are in perfect position for the camera to see everything. You notice you have twenty-three seconds till the next photo. Your fingers wrap around his shaft and you hover over his tip, rubbing the copious amount of slick all over his cockhead. He’s completely drenched in both, your arousal, and the remnants of his own cum, precum and your saliva. You’re both sticky, sweaty and messy but it only serves in turning you on more.
“Look at the camera for me sweetheart. I want you to keep watching it when I finally slide into this delicious cunt of yours” Namjoon says, his voice deep and croaky. The thick of his cockhead threatens to push into you and he groans when your hole flutters around it, spasming to try and draw him in. Namjoon’s face buries into your neck, but his gaze stays on your face in the display screen of the photo booth. His fingers grip your hips, pads digging into the flesh hard enough to leave bruises as he suckles the soft, tender skin just under your ear, by your jaw.
The timer begins counting down and you slowly guide him in. You rub his head all over your wet lips, knowing that your orgasms will have made you tighter and thus he’s going to have to stretch you out with his cock again. You stammer out his name when his cockhead brushes your clit. You relax your muscles as much as possible and then slowly slide down his girth. Your breath labours and your eyes screw shut at the stinging pain of him stretching you out. It hurt a lot worse than when he stretched you out with his three fingers but a lot less than if he hadn’t and if you weren’t as soaked as you were. His girth is so absurdly thick that you can feel your cunt muscles protesting the stretch. You hear the camera click and try to focus on that to take your mind off of him stretching you.
“Fuck Joonie…” You wince out in pain and Namjoon’s fingers splay over your hips as he peppers tender kisses comfortingly all over the back of your shoulders.
“I’m sorry baby. I should have stretched you again after you came. Do we need to stop?” Namjoon asks and you shake your head, not wanting to stop. You know that once he’s in you and adjusted it will all be fine, you just need to get through the initial burn. You bite your lip hard and choke out a sob as his bulbous cockhead finally squeezes into you with a pop. You lean back, his chest pressed tightly against your back as he pulls your hips down slowly, lowering you onto his cock and filling you up, your cunt protesting the stretch.
“How are you so big Namjoon, fuck- you’re tearing me up” You cry and Namjoon kisses under your jaw, the only bit of comfort he can offer you. It definitely hurts, but there’s pain in the pleasure and you feel yourself growing wetter. Although you’re never sure if it’s because of the pleasure or just your body trying to accommodate his girth for an easier transition.
Your hands slide to your breasts, playing with the fleshy mounds as he continues stretching out the walls of your pussy. You can feel every ridge, every single inch of him as he slowly opens you up. A sob of both pain and pleasure wracks through your throat and you gasp in and out, breathing deeply as he pushes further and further into you. Finally, he thrusts slightly and ploughs the last few inches into you, sliding in easily due to how wet the both of you are. His head jams against your cervix and your hand involuntarily moves to your abdomen when you can feel him so deep inside you. He slowly pulls out and then slides back in, bottoming into you and your pussy gushes, releasing another burst of wetness.
“What did I say sweet? Look at the camera” Namjoon says as he slowly begins to fuck into you. He’s in as deep as he can go and his pace is slowly picking up as your walls adjust to him. The pain is slowly dulling and the next time he drives into you; he forces a cry of pleasure from your throat. Your hands move behind you to thread into his hair. With every one of his plunges, he’s pressing harder and harder than he had before. You gasp and whine with every movement; there’s definite pleasure now mixed with the pain, the ecstasy and euphoria of feeling him inside you slowly taking over. He was so thick that he dragged your clit and g-spot with every shift of his hips, his blunt, mushroom head pressing and rubbing against for g-spot every time he pulled out and drove into you.
“Joon… Joonie- fuck, feels good” You mewl above him and Namjoon smirks against your neck, his eyes focused on the way he enters in and out of you on the photo booth screen. His cock twitches as he realises he’ll be able to take the photos home to view whenever he wants. Namjoon begins grunting as he thrusts faster, harder and much more vigorously into you. He forces the breath out of your lungs with each and every ramming movement inside you. The pressure of your orgasm was once again building inside of you. The slow burn of the heat inside your belly began pooling once again and your skin begins tingling and prickling with heat, your toes curling in euphoric bliss.
“This is so fucking hot baby. You’re so good to me. You see that? See how I stretch your cunt out? No one can fuck you like me. No one can make you feel this good. You’re cumming aren’t you? I can feel it. I can feel. Each. And every. Time. Your pussy. Clenches” Namjoon says, punctuating each of his words with a hard, well placed thrust against your g-spot. One of his hands moves to press against your abdomen, forcing you to feel him even more as his thumb begins strumming your clit. You wail his name, too far gone to care if anyone can hear you now.
“You like that? Does my precious little cock slut like when I fuck her like this? Yeah baby? You love it don’t you. You don’t even care if people outside can hear you. You don’t care that a camera is over there, taking pictures of what a good little slut you are for me. In fact, you’re even wetter. You’ve never been more wet in your life. I want you to be louder for me though baby. I want you to scream my name when you cum. So that everyone out there, so that Jaebum knows who this pussy belongs to” Namjoon says, one hand gripping your hip tighter as the other plays with your clit even more.
His words make you cry out and clench under him. You can feel the ebb of your orgasm approaching nearer and nearer with every one of his deep thrusts. He’s fucking into you so hard and deep that you can’t focus on anything other than the feel of him buried as deep into you as he can go. He batters your cervix with every drive of his hips and you’re a mumbling, shuddering mess. His thumb and forefinger suddenly pinch your clit as he bites your neck and your toes curl. You wail out his name, your throat hoarse and pricking with a stinging pain. And then you cum.
“Fuck that’s it” Namjoon says as he fucks you through your orgasm. Your cunt spasms uncontrollably and you gush around his cock, squirting for the second time. You continuously wail out his name, not caring if people can hear you and it eggs Namjoon on more, his cock forcing you open even though your walls are trying to clench around him and deny him entry with your orgasm. You roll your hips on top off him as your thighs shake automatically, quaking with the after effects of your orgasm. Namjoon slowly slows down his thrusts before stopping all of a sudden. You gasp in for air, catching your breath and your eyes flutter open. You don’t even remember them shutting.
“Stand up and brace yourself against the wall again” Namjoon says, patting your ass and you do so. Namjoon’s cock draws out from the sheath of your body with a wet squelch and he slowly holds you as you stand on shaky knees. Your palms spread out on either side of the camera and once again you’re in the same position you were before. You waver for a minute, knees buckling slightly before catching yourself and holding your body up by bracing against the wall the camera is built into. Namjoon grabs you by the hips once again and bends you over slightly. He picks up one of your legs and hooks it around his elbow.
The smell of the air is permeated with sex and sweat; your musky scents entangling with each other. The air is only just about rendered from being stuffy due to the daft from the closed photo booth curtain. You look at yourself in the camera. You’re both a mess, hair plastered to your faces, Namjoon’s entire body dripping with a mix of his own sweat and your drying cum. Swear drips down from his hair to his shoulder and down his perfectly defined chest. You follow the trail with your eyes before your eyes are led to between your legs. Your thighs are soaked and with one of your legs propped up on Namjoon’s arm, there’s nothing to be covered.
You’re swollen and puffy and slightly fucked open from his huge cock. The evidence of the damage his girth and rough thrusts had done to your body are as clear as day. There are even slight bruises forming on your hips and between your thighs. You watch Namjoon drag his cock between your pussy lips and your eyes flutter shut at the pleasure mixed with the pain of the oversensitivity. He rubs the shaft of his cock against your lips, gathering more of your slick before placing his head at your entrance and pushing in. You’re both at the perfect angle for the camera to capture how well he stretches you open. You gasp in unison, eyes focused on where he’s slowly fucking you open once again until he bottoms out and fills you completely. The angle lets him do deeper, hitting all the sweet spots inside your pussy.
“Fucking hell babe. Baby… you’re pussy feels so damn god. I’m going to cum soon… but I’m not done with this cunt just yet” Namjoon warns, thrusting into you hard to emphasise his point.
“Fuck. Me. Hard” You whisper, letting each one of his thrusts punctuate your words. Namjoon doesn’t need to be told twice and the next one of his thrusts causes your vision to turn dark, white spots blinding you. Namjoon yanks your hair back, exposing your neck to him as he bruises it with more of his kisses. You’re convinced that there’s no way you’d be able to hide any of his hickeys. He’s probably left them all over your neck and shoulders at this point. Namjoon begins riding you furiously, watching the way your ass bounces on his cock with each one of his thrusts. One of his hands clutches your tit, the other keeping your leg propped up as he fucks as deep, hard and fast into you as he can go. The entire time, his lips are just by your neck, kissing and whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he ensures your pussy would never be the same again.
“You like this don’t you, my little slut. You like the way I ride your pussy hard. You like this fat cock stretching you open” Namjoon groans, his words sending waves of pleasure straight to your belly. You moan an affirmative and Namjoon chuckles dark and throatily.
“Press your belly. I want you to feel me fucking you. Want you to feel deep me in you, where no one else can be. Where Jaebum could never be” Namjoon orders and you do as you’re told, knowing you could never defy him. You press into your stomach and can feel the way he thrusts into you, the way his cock pushes your insides around inside your abdomen every time he rams into you. You press down harder so you can feel him more deeply and he hisses as you spasm involuntarily, the action making him feel even tighter inside you. You arch your back slightly and the movement allows Namjoon to hit slightly deeper, a feat you thought impossible.
You began thrusting back towards him, your ass bouncing off of his hips and the slapping sound of impacting sweaty skin fills the air along with the squelching of your pussy. Your tits bounced in Namjoon’s hand with every bounce as you fucked yourself back on his cock. You moved your hand a little lower to play with your clit while still pressing into your belly. Your leg that was propped up was slowly going numb, but you didn’t care. You were too consumed by the ecstatic delirium of Namjoon’s cock in you. Your orgasm started building once again and you were both anticipating and dreading it. You were already losing your energy and you weren’t sure what would happen if you came once again before Namjoon. You know him and you know Namjoon loves drawing out an orgasm from you when he cums. You bounce harder, clenching your cunt around him, anything to try and get him to cum quiver and join you.
“Fuck, I’m close baby” Namjoon groan out and you silently thank the heavens as you continue your efforts. You’re practically running on fumes at this point, but the oncoming orgasm paired with Namjoon’s keeps you going. You clench repeatedly and Namjoon groans. He grips your hips tighter and starts fucking into you so fast and hard that his balls start slapping against you. The added stimulation has you hurtling into your next and hopefully last orgasm. You had already lost count of the amount of times Namjoon had made you cum. His huge cock pushes you over the edge and once again you start crying and sobbing, your palms clenching into fists. Tears once again pool into your eyes and you’re crying freely.
“Yes! Fuck… fuck Namjoon! Shit” You scream at the top of your voice as you cum once again. Namjoon feels you grow wet once again and he groans under you. Your body shakes with the forces of your contraction and you clamp down as tightly as it was possible for your pussy around Namjoon’s cock with a shuddering wail. Namjoon’s rhythm falters and his hips start moving in a stilted fashion, rutting deep into you as he begins cumming.
Namjoon bucks underneath you, pulling your hips closer to him, his face buried in your neck as he grunts and moans throatily. You barely register what is happening, too absorbed in Namjoon’s huge cock in your blissfully beaten pussy and the way your skin prickles, the way your toes curl, the way your eyes roll into the back of your skull and the way you’re quivering underneath him with the force of your orgasm. Namjoon holds you tightly to him and with one last thrust he buries himself as deep into you as he can go. When your orgasm finally subsides and your senses come back into you; you feel the hot spurts of Namjoon’s cum shooting deep into you, coating your walls white with his thick cum. He cums so much that you can feel it flood back out of you with each and every one of his smaller thrusts. You allow Namjoon to catch himself, enjoying the feel of him cumming in you. When he’s finally spent, he slowly pulls out of you and you moan at the feel of him dripping out of you.
“Fuck, look at that pussy. I can see my cum drip out of your pussy. Look at it baby, look at how I’ve marked you as mine” Namjoon says and you direct your gaze to the photobooth screen once again. You look at your dishevelled state, your matted messy hair, neck and shoulders bruised with hickeys. You trail down your body and towards your pussy where you see his cum flood out of you, dripping onto the floor as the camera takes pictures of your ruined, cum filled cunt. Namjoon’s free hand pushes his fingers into your pussy, pushing his cum in and out of your cunt and you hiss at the action as he plays with the cum inside you.
He finally lets your propped-up leg go, instead pulling your chest against his back so your face is once more in the frame. The two of you stare at your mirror images as Namjoon sticks his fingers in your mouth, feeding him the mix of your cum. You eagerly swirl your tongue around his fingers, sucking his digits as you eat his cum. Namjoon groans before pulling his fingers out. He spins you around to face him and grabs your ass, the other hand cupping your face as he kisses you. The kiss is lazy, tongues languidly pressing into each other before you both pull away. Namjoon, however, repeatedly presses lazy, tender kisses against your lips. You smile up at him and once again hear the camera click.
“Fuck, that was so good” Namjoon says and you giggle, nodding your agreement before you nuzzle into his chest, your eyes shutting as your exhausted body catches up with you.
“Joonie, I’m so tired” You whine and Namjoon laughs. He holds you tightly, pressing kisses into the crown of your head before slowly sitting you down on the seat. He turns around to the camera and stops it from taking pictures before clicking finish and causing the booth to begin printing the photos. There was no way he wasn’t going to have those photos, even if he’d have to hide them somewhere where no one can find them. He’d be damned if he let anyone else see you like this.
While he’s waiting for the countless photos to print, he pulls his jeans on, stuffing his boxers and your ruined panties into his pocket before throwing his shirt on haphazardly. When he’s dressed, he begins tending to you. He slowly slides your jeans on and you groan with protest when the rough material of the denim brushes against your still sensitive core. Namjoon apologises with a soft kiss on the middle of your forehead before he slips your bra on, followed by your shirt. He slowly begins buttoning you up, from the last button to the top, pressing tender kisses to your skin, from your stomach up to your chest until he buttons the last one, where he kisses your lips.
“Come on baby. We just have to sneak into my room okay? I promise you can sleep as long as you want then, but we just have to slip out without anyone noticing us okay?” Namjoon says and you pout but nod. Namjoon grabs your hand and picks you up. He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you into his side, letting you lean on him. Namjoon turns to the photos, thankful that they’ve all printed. He grabs them, making sure they’re in a neat pile before he hands them to you. You hold them tightly as Namjoon peaks out of the curtain, checking to see if the coast is clear. However, when he lets out a small ‘fuck’ and ducks back in you’re slightly worried. You open your mouth to ask him what’s wrong when you’re cut off.
“Just come out you guys. It’s not like we don’t know you guys just fucked in there” Yoongi says and your eyes pop wide open. Your face flushes in heat and you turn to Namjoon, looking at him in fear. His own cheeks are flushed and his eyes are shut as she shakes his head and mutters to himself.
“I’m sorry baby” Namjoon says and you shake your head, knowing you were just as much to be blamed, if not more considering how loud you’d been. You grab his hand and entwine your fingers before you squeeze in reassurance. Namjoon brings your hand up to his lips and kisses the back of it.
“We’ll just face them together, okay?” You say quietly and Namjoon nods. He leans over and kisses you once again.
“No more bubble you know? No more quiet nights all alone in your apartment” Namjoon whispers against your lips and you shrug with a tender smile.
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t care if it’s in my apartment alone, or surrounded by all our friends or even in a photo booth. As long as I’m with you, I don’t care where I am” You confess and Namjoon’s eyes soften with all the love he has for you.
“I love you” Namjoon says, kissing your lips once again.
“I love you too Joon” You reply and then Namjoon opens the curtain and pulls you both out. Your skin heats up as you realise the entirety of your friendship group are sitting on the opposite end of the rooftop in a little circle.
The music had been turned off and the guests had all cleared out. Suri looked at you, her eyebrow cocked and you knew you were in a world of trouble for hiding your relationship from her from her expression. Sooji laughs at your clear embarrassment while Seokjin looks away out of respect. Sooyun looks slightly guilty and yelps, hiding behind Hoseok when Namjoon’s eyes narrow at her. Jungkook and Jimin are just staring at Namjoon is a mix of both awe and wonder, and you instantly knew they were already idolising him for this little stint. Yoongi looked at you in exasperation while Taehyung and Yena were nowhere to be found; they had most likely gone home. You squeeze Namjoon’s hand once again and slowly walk over to the group with shaky legs. Your knees buckle and you almost stumble, Namjoon catching you and allowing you to lean on him.
“So, when did this happen?” Suri asks, her arms crossed in front of her as she interrogates you.
“Can we explain another time please? Like tomorrow. ____ is tired and I’d rather just get her to bed” Namjoon says with a sigh and Jungkook snickers.
“It definitely looks like you tired her out. That poor girl, look at the state of her” Jimin says with a tut and Namjoon shrugs as you blush.
“It’s nothing she didn’t enjoy” Namjoon replies simply.
“Oh yeah, we know. We heard her. We had to ask everyone to leave. Didn’t know you had such an exhibition kink” Yoongi deadpans and you shuffle further into Namjoon, trying to use his large body as your shield. Hoseok then whistles, noticing the photos you were holding.
“Damn Joon, didn’t know you were freaky enough to take photos of you guys fucking. Although, that wasn’t why I hired the photo booth in the first place, but I told you it’d be fun right” Hoseok winks and Namjoon glares at him, effectively shutting him up.
“Yeah, except now it’ll need to be cleaned before we can return it and get the deposit back” Jin says with a sigh and both you and Namjoon apologise, promising to clean it out tomorrow.
“Umm, I’m sorry for trying to set her up with Jaebum” Sooyun stutters and Namjoon smirks at her.
“Oh, you’re not off the hook for that just yet. But it’s fine. He could never have her anyway. And I have the photos to prove it. Now, like I said, ____ really needs to sleep. So, we’ll see you guys tomorrow” Namjoon says and he then bids all his friends goodbye as he pulls you into the apartment, leading you into his bedroom. He sits you down on his bed and asks you to strip. Meanwhile, he walks over to his draw and pulls out a shirt for you and a pair of clean boxers for himself. He pulls the shirt over your head before stripping and slipping the boxers onto him.
He lays you down underneath his cover before sliding in on the other side. You turn around and wrap intertwine your legs with his, your head resting on his hard chest. Namjoon’s hand moves to rest on your hip, soothingly rubbing up and down as he presses a kiss onto the crown of your head. You smile lazily, snuggling further into him. You hear the rhythmic pounding of his heart right under your ear and the beat of his heart slowly lulls you into a slumber, the exhaustion finally taking over.
A/N: So yeah, that happened.
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sagemoderocklee · 4 years ago
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Hello! For the meta asks, would you do 1, 5, 8, and 17?
you did not come to play, lilac! thanks for all these questions! <3
1. Tell us about your current project(s)  –   what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?
oh lord. that’s a... question. i have. so many current projects, i don’t even know where to start. this is gonna be long so please bear with me lol i’ll probably give more detail for some fics over others, and i’ll only go over fics I’ve got documents for because otherwise we’d be here forever.
The Art of Love: so this one is obvious because it’s been in progress for the last 2ish years? no i think it’s three now. I won’t go into detail with this because the fic is roughly halfway through, so there’s plenty of content for that up! I’d say the progress with that fic is actually going really well, though. Unlike Alliance, which took 8 years--five years of writing, three of editing--TAoL has been up for way less time, and is already about to hit the halfway mark! I really need to get back to it, tbh because it’s been way too long since my last update.
Honor Bound (sequel to Alliance): so this is.... kind of on pause. I’ve got the first three chapters written, but my focus has been more on TAoL when it comes to my more complicated, long running stories, so HB has taken a backseat. I think I won’t get back to working on the Allied Nations Saga until after TAoL is done, in all honesty.
Find Me: this is my HS AU, which has been on the back burner forever and I feel terrible because I think it may honestly be my most popular fic. Unfortunately, AUs/slice of life stuff is difficult for me because I’m more interested in politics, so I lost momentum on this fic. It is about halfway done. I have a good chunk of chapter six written, but not enough that I could say I’m close to finishing it.
It Eats Your Heart: obviously I just started this one, and it’s a horror fic. I’ve really gotta sit down and do some major plotting on it because I only have some very vague ideas currently.
Pearl-Filled Lungs: this is one of like three ningyo AUs I have--the other are pirate/ningyo AUs (and ones actually a selkie not a ningyo). I started it last year for the GaaLee fest, and it’s been sitting unfinished for far too long. I finally sat down recently and plotted the whole thing out, so I’m hoping to get back to working on it soon! It’s only 5 chapters in total, so I don’t think it’ll take me super long to get through once I sit down and do it.
Who Dares to Love Forever: This is a working title, and I may change it. This is a fic idea I’ve had for a couple years, inspired by the song Who Wants to Live Forever by Queen. This particular fic is a vehicle for my sage mode!rock lee headcanon, and explores just how effective Chiyo giving Gaara her life would have been given she was an old biddy. So the idea for this fic is that Gaara’s running out of time because Chiyo only had so much to offer.
Absolution: this is another fic that I’ve had on the back burner for years. it was initially inspired by art by @brianadoesotherjunk but quickly spiraled into something much bigger because of course it did. This particular fic is one I’m extremely excited about. I need to go back over the first part, because I feel like it’s not quite right, but I do technically have the first part done. This fic follows Gaara struggling with bouts of narcolepsy that trigger nightmares induced by trauma and guilt from his childhood. These nightmares are incredibly dangerous for obvious reasons, but even more so because Temari’s baby is on the way. Temari and Shikamaru are married, living in the Kazekage estate, and with their baby coming and both needing/wanting to get back to work, they also need a nanny. Unbeknownst to Gaara, the year prior to the events of the fic, Maito Gai died, succumbing to the 8th Gate finally, and Lee has since been spiraling. His depression has become so self-destructive that he’s been taken off active duty. Shikamaru, along with the rest of the Konoha 12 (minus Neji and Sasuke), get together and discuss what to do. Tenten believes that Lee being a nanny would be the perfect thing. And so Rock Lee is sent to Suna, hired by Shikamaru and Temari as their live-in nanny...
We Need Not Be Yellow Tulips in a Garden of Gardenia’s, Yet We Go the Way of the Red Camellia: true to form, I decided that a hanahaki fic was something I had to do, and I was not going to pass up the chance at being as Extra As Possible with the flowery language, ergo the ridiculous title. I’ve gotten part way through the first chapter of this fic, but the whole thing is roughly plotted out and each chapter title is just as extra as the whole fic’s title.
Thirteen Strokes: so this is a fic I have--once again--had on my mind for ages, and--once again, because I am nothing if not a caricature of myself--inspired by a Florence+the Machine song, All This and Heaven Too. I started writing this the other night, as I wanna use it for GaaLee bingo. It’ll be 13 chapters, as per the 13 strokes that it takes to make the character for love, ai, in Japanese. The fic is from Gaara’s PoV, and follows his journey with and his relationship to love, with lots of worldbuilding and politics because it wouldn’t be an Eeri Original without those things.
Scarification: this is another idea for bingo based around the prompt shinshoubyou, which is a fictional disease where your emotions cause physical marks on you
Fill in the [  ]: another bingo idea, based around the prompt bouaishoukoigun, the fictional disease where you forget the person you love if it’s unrequited.
The Eagle’s Augury: an idea that allows me to play around with more worldbuilding and focus on Karura. In this fic, the curse (mentioned briefly on the Naruto wikia) that has led to every single Kazekage being assassinated, is coming for Gaara, and Karura is trying to warn him from beyond the grave. At the same time, Temari and Shikamaru’s marriage is approaching, and their ceremony is being held in Suna, with all the fan fair a marriage for someone from the Kazekage line should see. Again, another fic inspired by Miss Florence+the Machine, the song is Mother
Pomegranate Sun: this is a fic that I am... so excited about. Another fic that was originally inspired by a Queen song, Under Pressure, and has of course taken on a life of its own. This fic, I am actually going to be writing with @ghoste-catte! It’s an arranged marriage trope, and I’m super pumped for it! We’ve only got a little bit started, and it has obviously not taken priority for either of us since we both have a lot of fics on our plates.
The Ballad of the Dragon and the Phoenix: this is a fic I’m really excited but is going to take a LOT of research to get off the ground. I had this idea sometime last year, I wanna say? This fic is another self-indulgent headcanon about Lee’s origins, his family, etc. This fic starts when Gaara shows up on Lee’s doorstep, asking him to accompany him to another country for reasons Lee cannot understand. Gaara has been in talks with Phoenix Kingdom, hoping to forge a new relationship only to find that the Emperor wants to use shinobi for militaristic purposes. Lee doesn’t understand what help he could possibly offer the Kazekage, but he can’t very well turn him down.
okay, i’m gonna stop there. these are the ones I have titles and documents for, and honestly that’s probably way more than you wanted to know about lol
5. What character that you’re writing do you most identify with? 
Despite the fact that most of my fics end up from Gaara’s PoV, I actually identify with Lee the most!
8. Is what you like to write the same as what you like to read?
Yes! Which is hard to find, tbh, because I am a sucker for political dramas with slow burn romances, but I don’t see a lot of that in the GaaLee fandom. I’m not as into like slice of life or short stories where the characters get together quick, I’m really not into established relationship fics unless it’s a sequel, so I tend to avoid those. I like AUs but it really depends on the AU, because I ultimately prefer the canon and I love seeing the way people write the shinobi world and all its rules and cultures and things. I’m just a big fan of worldbuilding, politics, and slow slow burns. Not this 25k SLOW BURN! crap because that is NOT a slow burn. I wanna see a fic that’s 200k words in and they still haven’t even figured out they’re in love! I like stories I can really sink my teeth into, ya know?
17. Do you think readers perceive your work - or you - differently to you? What do you think would surprise your readers about your writing or your motivations?
Oh gosh. I generally don’t think too much about it except like hoping people don’t think I’m like a stuck up asshole because of how I talk about my writing, writing in general, my hcs, etc. I mean, obviously I don’t expect everyone in this fandom to like me--and there are ppl I’ve gone out of my way to be vocally against because they do nasty shit--but largely I feel like I come across as too intense, so even the general population of GaaLee fans that I do want to interact with I’m always a lil nervous that people secretly don’t like me and basically are like “oh god this bitch again” when they see me in the tags. But I just get really excited and invested in my ideas, and honestly for the longest time this fandom was SO small and there weren’t a lot of people putting out content regularly so it was like a handful of us so I think it made me more emphatic about GaaLee lol I think I always like assume people aren’t as excited about my writing as I am or that people are like “too much politic, i need more romance”.
I’m always surprised when people really love my AUs, like Kado or Find Me have had such fantastic reception, and it’s like people just eat that shit up so much. And then I look at like Alliance or Art of Love and get kind of confused because I think by comparison those are more interesting and more developed than my AUs. I put a shit ton of work into everything I write, especially anything that requires research, so it’s not to say that I do less work per say, just that I feel like TAoL and things like it are more interesting and more developed, and the relationship feels.... somehow more to me there than in an AU.
a lot of my motivation really just comes from the lack of content this fandom had for so many years, and the fact that Naruto could have been a much more interesting series and I love worldbuilding so much. I think my motivation for each fic is different though. Like Alliance was started because I wanted to write something different from what was mainly in the fandom at the time because mind you I started that in 2010. But my motivation for TAoL is more wanting to tell a beautiful story with a complex narrative that looks at the failings of the shinobi world. Whereas like any slice of life fic is really just meant to be a fun break. And sometimes I write something literally just because I wanted to fulfill that trope for the GaaLee fandom--again, a lot of my ideas have been sitting for years and years and years (TAoL was an idea I had literally right after starting Alliance, but I didn’t get to it until 2017), so a lot of ideas that are old are because at the time that trope hadn’t been fulfilled yet in the fandom though that’s changing a lot with the recent GaaLee Renaissance of the last couple years.
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