#^ then jean turns up and it's obvious he's really upset but all he says is 'fucking finally'
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the true ending of disco elysium is the one where harry dies in the trash outside the whirling and garte just goes "i dont care"
the true ending of disco elysium is the one where harry collapses and dies on evrart's chair and kim has to be like "i'm sorry for my colleague. he's a funny man. he likes to make jokes at inopportune moments. up you go, detective." and evrart goes "oh of course. that's our harry, full of jokes! very funny! i do appreciate a good laugh! now let's get back to business, harry, i'm a very busy man, you know." and then they both stand there for a minute and harry is just fully dead half slumped off the chair and they both stand there like ............😐😐
#kim calling the 41st to be like hey um. that guy you guys sent? yeah he's dead. no he's not faking it.#yes i'm sure. what kind of question is that? he just kind of fell over dead. he said the chair was uncomfortable#what do you mean this isn't the first time this has happened. look can you just come get him. i'm at a loss here#is someone laughing in the background? is this some kind of joke?#^ then jean turns up and it's obvious he's really upset but all he says is 'fucking finally'#kiwipost#ask
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HIII can you do something like were your giving Johnnie head while he’s playing video games with his friends or streaming on twitch or filming a video and he’s trying so hard not to moan and he gets so fed up he fucks you or something idk 🗣️👍
giving Johnnie head under his desk headcannons
a/n: I loveeee this idea sm thank you for the request!!
cw: kinda public? it’s through a screen but you get the point,somewhat rough,
he’d be sooo pissed off but at the same time he’d love it sm
it would be whenever he’s live,leaving you to your own thoughts as he played a series of games with his friends on twitch
every once and while whenever he got a break from the game he would talk to you and give you a little kiss if you were still in the room with him
of course this wasn’t enough
you had considered humping his pillow on his bed but you figured it might be too obvious if he repeatedly been looking over at his bed
eventually Johnnie had decided to pull away from his chair to go and grab him a water bottle which was on his desk
seeing this window of opportunity, you crept under his desk sitting on your knees as he gave you a confused look which was just barely out of frame of the camera
you began to unbuckle his pants,making it abundantly clear as to what your intentions were
you took his for now soft cock out of the restraints of Johnnie’s jeans and began to slowly stroke it
Johnnie on the other hand was trying to put all his attention on the game which had just begun a new round rather then the sensation between his legs
you had begun to take the tip into your mouth,his hips bucking up slightly which to anyone watching looked like he had just been readjusting in his seat
every time you would take more of him into your mouth he would curse out a profane word with a “cough” at the end
to the viewers it looked as if he had simply gotten pissed off at his game but to you that was obviously not the case
his knuckles were turning white from how hard he was gripping his mouse to keep his composure
your tounge danced against the underside of his cock driving him absolutely batshit insane
after a couple more minutes of you teasing his cock his friends conveniently decided they had played enough games for the night and decided to end their streams making Johnnie follow suit
“alright guys” he says his voice cracking a bit at the end “i’ll see you all later” he says before quickly ending the stream
as soon as he ends the stream you remove your mouth from his cock going back to slowly stroking it
you giggle softly and look up at him as he runs his hand through his hair before he pulls himself from behind his desk
“what the fuck was that” he asks seeming upset however you both knew he wasn’t genuinely upset at all
however he was to a degree pissed
“i was bored” you pout “and you wouldn’t give me any attention”
i mean all you wanted was his attention so that’s exactly what you got
he proceeded to bend you over his bed using the spit off of his cock mixed with your own slick as lube as he pushed himself deep inside you bottoming out in one push
“tryna get me fuckin’ caught up huh?” he says thrusting into you at a even faster rate then before,the obscene sound of his hips meeting yours filling the room
“thinkin’ you can tease me and get away with it” he grunts out to which you whine due to all the pleasure coursing through your body
you couldn’t even form sentences because of how good he was making you feel. all you could do was moan out a string of apologies as his hands move to your hips
“i don’t think you’re really sorry” he admits “if you were sorry you wouldn’t be creaming all over my fucking dick” he says punctuating the last two words with a thrust.
looking down to see what he was talking about you noticed the white ring that had formed around the base of his cock
he begins to slow down his thrusts giving you a minute to talk before going back to his relentless pace
“mhm I promise m’ sorry” is all you could cry out with tears forming at your eyes
his ring clad hands grip onto your hips which was sure to leave bruises the next day but you didn’t care
if anything you wanted him to leave bruises you wanted to have a constant reminder of just how good Johnnie fucks you
mutually, he wanted the bruises to stay as a reminder to not tease him like that again
his grunts turn into moans as he approaches his long awaited orgasm
he could tell you were getting close as well from the way your back was arching off the bed to the way your moans picked up and got even higher then before
with his tone softening up he moves one of his hands to your hair petting it softly “come on baby cum for me” which was all you needed to hear
your nails scratched down his back as you came hard,almost on the verge of shaking had Johnnie not been holding onto you
with a couple more thrusts Johnnie had came inside you,as he slowly pulled out watching his cum drip out of you
after a couple minutes of you guys laying together on his bed you look up at him from where you had been laying on his chest
“you’re not actually mad are you?” you ask looking up at him
his face softens “of course not baby” he says leaving a light kiss on your head as he held you close in his arms
#johnnie guilbert#smut#johnnie guilbert headcannons#johnnie guilbert smut#jake webber#jake webber smut#jake webber headcannons#jake webber imagine#johnnie guilber imagine#johnnie guilbert x reader#johnnie guilbert imagine#jake and johnnie
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reader in denial a bit with bestie eren!
eren x black reader
sub eren hinted a bit, alcohol usage, rough sex, facd fucking, smut, profanity.
thinking about how you and eren fuck almost every night, and i mean every night when eren finally realizes you need him as much as he needs you. but you both dont have a title yet, now dont get eren wrong. he would love a title, he wants to call you his, and for you to do the same. you just don’t know how to take it, your bestfriend of childhood being your boyfriend. it was always what you wanted, but how would it seem to others around you both when you denied multiple times already. no one to blame but yourself for digging it deeper and now being a little werry of wanting to admit your feeling for eren.
eren doesnt let you both not having a title keep you away from each other. he loved you, that was a fact and obvious. on the other hand you might say no if someone were to ask if you and eren were dating. eren on the other hand tells the full honest truth.
“nah we not together, but she still mine as i am of hers.” eren spoke sipping his cup of alcohol at the bar him and his friends were at
“so she has you under a leash?” jean chuckled taking his last of alcohol fully and tilting his head back.
eren mean mugged him and spoke up glaring at his snarky comment. “no, she doesnt.. and if she did it wouldnt be too bad.” eren shrugged and his friends laughed he rolled his eyes and looked away. day dreaming about you and how he’d kill to be with you right now.
and thats exactly what he did, except of the killing part. he grabbed his keys off the stand and began getting off the stool. “where ya goin?” armin tilted his head to look at eren from over jean. “hes gonna see his little owner.” jean chuckled to himself at his own joke causing both them to roll their eyes. “its better than being with shitface over here.” eren stood and started to walk towards the door, jean scoffed rolling his eyes and ordering another drink.
you were in your room of your pretty decorated apartment, pink picture frames, gray marbled counters, stuffed animals on your couch and little lights everywhere was how you’d describe your apartment. eren, would say different “ ‘ts too pink, make my eyes hurt baby.” hed mock you and cover his eyes as you rolled yours, the “baby” word going completely over your head. it wasnt out of the blue for eren to call you petnames, i mean you’ve asked him before and all his response is. “what? you dont like them pretty?” of course you’re gonna say you do, thats how you felt and honestly hoped he didnt stop.
you were watching a movie on your laptop snacking on whatever was in the kitchen, getting distracted by a message at 11:12pm. you really knew who it was though, eren comes at this time. not everyday of course but only when hes been out or busy.
eren <3; im at the door ma
you; mhm here i come.
rolling out of bed and straddling through your living room and towards the front door you began unlocking it. finishing then opening the door to see erens slim figure in the doorway. he had already a cracked smile on his face, he couldnt wait to see you. its been awhile and it was his fault, he knew hed have to make up for it. he thought you’d greet him with a hug and a peck on the cheek, the usual. instead you stared at him for a bit before turning around and letting him. not saying a word eren sighed and closed the door locking it then began to walk behind you. he slid his hands on each side of ur waist and put his head on your shoulder from behind. “cmon y/n, im sorry you havent seen me in awhile..i havent been ghosting you honest.” he spoke softly in your ear, he sounded so sincere and pretty upset he hadnt seen you either. “been real busy..you know id rather be here.” he said as you stood in place as he rocked you both softly side to side as he held onto you.
“doesnt matter to me..not like we’re together right?” you looked away to the side, you knew your words were bad. and that they wouldnt effect eren, he listens to all your fits and upsets. doesnt bother him a bit, only about the situation that made you feel that way in the first place. other than that he knows how to get you out that state. “dont be so mean y/n.. you hurtin my feelings.” he said sarcastically removing away from you and fake grabbing his heart. “im serious eren-“ “how about we change that then?” you were shocked at his words, eyes widening and you quickly turning to look at him. “what?” you spoke softly eyes glistening a bit and gazed upon erens face. “can we please change it..” eren spoke up then got onto his knees infront of you, holding onto your legs with both hands. he put his face by your stomach and inhaled your scent he loved so much. “i really want you y/n.. want you to be mine.” he mumbled looking up at you. you were hot in the face, feeling your blood rise up to your cheeks. “i-i want you too ren..” you spoke softer, gazing down at how he held onto you.
and this just made eren so much bolder, your emotion changing quickly at how swift he moved to leaning over you. he held your waist again and peered into your orbs with his green ones, a snarky smile on his face. “you do?” he questioned tilting his head down at you reaching close to your face. your lips barely touching as you breathed in each others air. “badly.” you breathed out, thats all eren needed to hear before sweeping you off your feet. carrying you with both hands on your ass supporting your legs wrapped around him. walking you both towards your opened bedroom noses touching as eren goes in for a kiss. you took in his tongue and slipped past your own, moaning into it and squeezing around eren. he chuckled and laid you onto the bed, he was leaning over your body. humping his hard crotch into your clothed cunt in missionary. he groaned staring at just how your face looks when he makes you feel good.
eren didnt hold back the whole night, putting you in positions you didnt know you were capable of. he fucked you into a babbling mess under him. “ ‘s too much!! cant take i-it ren!” you squealed out as he pushed deeper hitting the spot he hit earlier making you yet orgasm again. your eyed rolled in the back of your head as you released onto him, cum dripping down and sliding his shaft wetting his balls. eren saw this and looked up to were your mouth was open. he smirked and quickly grabbed a fist full of your braids making you do a soft yelp that moved into a low moan. “how bout you clean your mess up hm?” with a handful he moved you up and towards his leaking dick with his precum standing pearly off the tip and your cum that covered it. you willingly took him fully into your mouth without another word, you let him into your throat and placed soft kisses on his tip. feeling your throat once eren couldnt get enough and forced your head onto him more, now guiding you. you loved when eren was like this, when he was in control. he liked when youd do it to, but pleasuring you more was his ideal choice. you licked him up and jerked him off while doing it making erens toes curl. he tried to move away at a point but was stopped by a hard hand on his thigh that kept him down. “m-m gonna fuckin cum..” he seethed out through his teeth as his hips started to move on his own fucking your face as you kinda took control. he was eager to nut and his hips had a mind of their own chasing his high. you took him fully one last time in your throat as erens hips buckled. he grabbed ahold of your head pushing it down one last time as he came into your mouth. moaning a loud mess and breathing ever so heavily, he caressed your cheek hand leaving your head, wiping away the tears that poured while he face fucked you.
“this means you’re mine now yeah?” eren thumb was still wiping under your eye, tilting his head he slowly moved it to your plumped lips parting them and making way for his thumb. you took it into your mouth and gave it a soft suck as you kissed it after
“mm yeah.” was your response, and it couldnt have made eren happier hearing this. causing you both to go into your 7th round? counting yes.
#black reader#black y/n#eren smut#eren x y/n#eren x reader#eren x black reader#eren x you#eren jeager x y/n#eren jeager x reader#eren x black fem!reader#eren x black y/n#eren x black reader smut#eren jeager smut#eren headcanons#eren x black yn
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KEEP OUR LOVE ALIVE ➵ F. CASTLE
Summary: When you’re feeling insecure, Frank is there to remind you he still really, really likes you.
Warnings: Physical insecurities, hurt/comfort, fluff :)
Word count: 1.1k
Author’s note: Somehow I managed to write!! This wasn’t a request but more so just based on how I’ve been feeling this week. I didn’t specify what kind of insecurities the reader has, but I personally am a ✨ thick girl ✨ to say the least and sometimes it really gets me down. But I think Frank would simply not care :)
You were already in bed when Frank finally came home, one bare leg slung over your covers to ward off the summer heat that had your — originally his — t-shirt sticking to the back of your neck. You propped yourself up on one elbow at the sound of him fighting off his boots and groaning as his feet hit the floor, and a frown creased your forehead as you watched him through the open door of the bedroom.
”It’s nothin’”, he insisted even before you could say a thing, ”just been runnin’ all day. Guess I’m gettin’ old, huh?” The joke got a snort from you, and in return, Frank flashed a grin while limping his way to the bedroom. You let your head fall back down on the pillow but you still kept watching him as he yanked his dirty shirt off his back and began undoing the belt of his jeans. It was always a sight to behold, and guaranteed to give you the sweet dreams he wished for you every night.
”You still look pretty good to me”, you noted, and now, it was Frank’s turn to chuckle. He gave you a look over his shoulder while grabbing the dirty clothes and making a move for the bathroom.
”Feelin’s mutual, sweetheart.” With that he strode off to the bathroom to wash up, leaving you alone with his comment swirling around in your head until the words began to warp into something untrue.
See, it wasn’t just the heatwave that had you staying up, nor the inability to sleep without Frank by your side. It had been a bad, and I mean, bad day to be in your body. Insecurities got the best of everyone sometimes, but it seemed that as of late they brought you down more than usual. You hated what you saw in your reflection and you hated putting on any clothes that weren’t comfortable and baggy enough to hide what was underneath.
That was what had started it today, anyway. You had agreed to meet a friend for a drink and it had seemed like such a good idea until you tried putting on your favorite dress, and as if struck by lightning, you couldn’t stand the way you looked. Nothing seemed to flatter you — everything just made you dislike your body more and it had spiraled to the point where you had just cancelled and cried about it at home.
Now the tears had dried, but you felt them making their return. When Frank stepped back into the room, you hastily wiped your eyes, something he didn’t notice while running his hands across his face. You gave him a weak smile when he climbed into bed, and drawn in by the scent of him, not blood or grime, just him… you leaned in to give him a kiss.
He returned the gesture gladly, pressing up against you with his hand caressing your exposed thigh. You pulled away from the kiss, but Frank, not realizing you were becoming upset, leaned down to kiss your neck, instead. It made you close your eyes in pleasure, but when his hand began roaming your body more, you inched away from him in what was obvious, blatant rejection.
A frown appeared on his face. ”Hey, somethin’ wrong? ’M sorry, I shoulda asked how your day was or somethin’—”, he started, but you cut him off with a hand on his arm.
”Don’t be sorry”, you reassured him, but when that was all you said, he stared you down insistently. Even without any additional words, he was able to wear you down. ”It’s just been kind of a bad day for my insecurities”, you admitted with a shrug, looking away from him as if embarrassed, and Frank reacted with a soft tut while reaching for your jaw.
”Hey, hey, hey, look at me, baby. There’s nothin’ wrong with that. It’s aight to feel that way”, he promised before licking his lips. ”I mean, I ain’t gonna agree with you. I think you’re a fuckin’ stunner, no matter what. But you’re allowed to have those feelings”, Frank went on, a serious look on his face as he tried to get to you.
You pursed your lips sadly and shrugged again. ”I guess.” You didn’t really know what else to say. You knew he’d never judge you, but it felt hard to believe he understood. One look at the guy would tell any person that he was gorgeous, breath-taking even. That only made you feel worse. How were you supposed to be worthy of him?
”Whatcha thinkin’ about, huh? C’mon, talk to me, baby”, he pleaded, and huffing, you caved in.
”I think you’re so beautiful and I don’t know why you’d settle for me”, you murmured, almost embarrassed to say it out loud, but you meant every word.
Frank, on the other hand, was blown away. ”You serious?” he asked gravely, disbelief obvious on his face when you looked up at me. ”Have ya seen this ugly mug? Sweetheart, if anythin’, you’re the one settlin’. You’re goddamn beautiful. I’m just some… hell, I don’t even know. I’m still wonderin’ why you bother with me.”
Narrowing your eyes at him, you gently shoved his arm. ”Don’t talk about yourself like that”, you pointed out, and lifting an eyebrow, Frank was ready to defend himself.
”Oh, but you’re allowed to?” he hummed, and blushing, you looked down at your hands.
”Point taken.”
A bout of silence ensued with you fiddling with your fingers and Frank just admiring you from his side of the bed, his hands kept to himself but his eyes full of love and concern. Eventually, he spoke up again.
”Tell me what ya feel insecure about. What specifically. Okay? I wanna understand”, he suggested, and with a slow nod, you began listing the things that made you most uncomfortable. You got specific, as he had asked, and it didn’t take long for tears to brim in your eyes but Frank didn’t hesitate to wipe them away with a gentle thumb.
”Alright, sweetheart. You did good”, the man praised you when you quieted down. ”If it’s okay with you, I’mma show you extra love on those parts for however many days it takes for you to feel at least a lil’ bit better about ’em, aight? It ain’t gonna be a magical cure, but I’m sure as hell gonna do my part”, Frank proposed, and lighting up with a sincere smile, you turned to him.
”I would really appreciate that”, you admitted, and grinning, Frank leaned in to kiss your temple.
”Then how ’bout we start right now?”
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Call Me Babydoll 4
PAIRING: DBF!Patrick Bateman x Innocent!Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: Anything that seems too good to be true probably isn't. After a dinner with Patrick that didn't go well, you realized that your relationship with him is more complicated than you initially thought.
CONTAINS: Angst, mentions of food, cursing and use of pet names (babydoll), smoking, gaslighting & manipulation, humiliation & mild bulling.
WORDS: 4.1k
A/N: This chapter is a bit long, but I hope you enjoy it!💕
LINKS: [Ch.3]; [SERIES MASTERLIST]; [MASTERLIST]
God, you couldn't imagine a worse situation than this — being stuck in the limo with Patrick Bateman after he discovered your little secret about your virginity. Panicking from the lack of oxygen, you looked down at his deadly grip on your wrist, your brain overloaded with thoughts of a possible escape route.
"Patrick, I should go," you tried to release his grip when you noticed that the car had stopped, but he kept holding you tight. "My Dad is waiting for me!"
"Your father can wait a little longer," he demanded, pulling you a little closer, forcing you to raise your shy eyes to him. "Tomorrow we'll have dinner and talk about...this whole thing."
From the raspy sound of his voice, it was obvious that Bateman was doing his best to save what was left of his self-control, his skin burning yours with its heat.
"And what if I say 'no'?" You snapped at his cheeky way of speaking.
With a soft chuckle, he let go of your wrist and grinned as he saw you rubbing the spot where he was holding you a moment ago. "You don't want to upset your Dad, do you?" When Patrick met your confused gaze, the corners of his lips turned up. "I mean, the last thing you want is for your dear father to find out about all the nasty things you did…with me."
Your nostrils flared with anger, but you tried to play it cool. "What? Are you really trying to blackmail me?"
"No," Bateman grinned at your irritated stare. "Just a little reminder not to try to play games with me. It's pointless anyway."
Uh yeah, sure. We'll see who laughs last.
Saying nothing in return, you looked at him one last time before opening the car door and getting out.
"I'll pick you up at six. Wear something nice...something that hides your tattoos." Patrick ordered through the half-open window, the wide, smug smile never leaving his face.
The urge to turn around and show him your middle finger was so damn high, but as you faced the facade of your house, the memories of your father occupied your mind and stopped you at the very last moment.
"I don't have any of those clothes you're talking about," you simply replied, spinning around and crossing your hands over your chest. "Because I—"
"That's not a problem, babydoll. We can buy you some fabulous dresses or skirts," his brown eyes traveled over your body like a scanner, making you feel completely naked, you even shrugged off the shiver. "By the way, does your father forbid you to wear skirts or dresses because he knows someone would kidnap you? You have such pretty legs."
You closed your eyes and counted to ten to calm yourself. "I love my jeans, and pants are just much more comfortable for me!" Your voice trembled with embarrassment and anger. "If all the girls around you look like sluts in their skimpy dresses, that doesn't mean I have to! Jesus, why am I even trying to justify myself?!"
Your little tantrum only made him chuckle in pure satisfaction. "I have no idea why, but I like it," his arrogant smirk made you sick. After checking his Rolex nonchalantly, Bateman added, "See you tomorrow, (y/n). And tell your father that my old man has approved those investments we talked about a week ago."
Wait, what?
Now it was your turn to try to stop him, but just as the last word fell from his lips, the limo pulled away, leaving you with an unspoken question stuck in your throat like a lump.
The air of your house greeted you with a sharp smell of smoke, signaling that your father was home and not in a good mood — he had taken up smoking since your mother died, and now you knew pretty well that when he was feeling down only a cigarette could bring him some relief.
Walking slowly through the halls of your not-so-luxurious but spacious house, you found your Dad sitting in the living room with a glass of his favorite whiskey and a pack of cigarettes that he twirled nervously in his hand.
"Hey, Dad," you called out quietly, halting in the doorway — the strange pangs of guilty causing your heart to pound painfully against your chest. "Are you okay?"
"Oh, I didn't hear you coming," he turned to you, his wrinkled face lighting up the moment he saw your apprehensive expression. "I'm fine...just had a busy day," he put the cigarette in the ashtray and got up from his comfortable armchair. "How did you make it home?"
His sudden question caught you off guard, as your father didn't usually ask such things. Frowning, you stepped into the living room and looked at his tired face — he seemed to have aged even faster in the last few months, when his business had stopped being as profitable as it used to be.
"I'm fine, thanks," you carefully took a seat on the couch next to him, noticing that the bottle of whiskey on the coffee table was half empty. "Dad, can I ask you something?"
"Of course, my dear," your father smiled at you and poured himself another glass of alcohol before sitting back down in his armchair. "What is it?"
"Did you really ask Pat—" you stammered and coughed a little. "I mean, did you really ask Mr. Bateman to pick me up after work?"
Right after you asked, you tried to catch a glimpse of your father's reaction, to notice any strange expressions or anything that might discredit him, but to your surprise, your father just gave you a sympathetic grin, sipping his drink and looking at you adoringly.
"Maybe I did..." he tilted his head thoughtfully. "...or maybe I didn't. Forgive me for my bad memory, it gets worse every day."
Sighing, you couldn't help but smile at his words, as your father was always the one who could warm your heart just by saying a few simple words.
"All right, all right," you paused, rubbing your tense temples. "He asked me to inform you that the investments you discussed some time ago have been approved and..." as you noticed your father's face changing so quickly, you had to pause for a second. "...is it something important?"
Your father took a quick drag on a cigarette, blowing a few rings of smoke to the side to keep them away from you. "Did he really say that?"
"Yes," you fidgeted nervously in your seat, seeing your Dad's reaction. "Yes, he did."
"That's...that's one of the best pieces of news I've had in a long time," your father stood up again, looking for something. "I need to make a call..."
Nodding, you decided that now was not the best time to ask more questions, so you just decided to leave and go to your room, but as soon as you strolled away, you heard your father's enthusiastic voice again:
"(Y/n), wait," he stopped beside you, holding a phone in his slightly shaking hand. "I know I've always been too strict when it comes to you, but I've always tried to give you as much love and care as I could...since your mother..." His words cut right through your heart, and you even had to grit your teeth from the itchy tears that welled up in your eyes.
"Father, please...let's not talk about it." You interrupted him, not wanting to open up your old wounds.
"Uh, I'm sorry. I just wanted to tell you that...Patrick Bateman seems like a good man," you almost lost your sense of orientation in this room at his sudden statement. "I haven't allowed you to hang out with boys much, but you can get to know him better since he's been asking about you a lot."
Fuck, you couldn’t believe it.
First, Bateman had his eyes on you. Then he tried to seduce you, break you and make you forget your morals, and he fucking succeeded, because in the end Patrick managed to get his hands on you, and now his farther suddenly approved the budget for your Dad's business. Was this just a coincidence or another way to manipulate you?
"Well, you tried to protect me from...everything and everyone, I can't judge you..." you murmured as you reached the door. "You always want the best for me, so... I promise I'll think about it."
With that, you closed the door behind you, leaving your father alone in the living room. A wild cocktail of emotions swirled in your chest, as if you had drunk something extremely hot — you wanted to laugh, to cry, to scream. How on Earth did that happen? That your own father was directly encouraging you to get close with Patrick Bateman? Was that someone's bad joke?
As soon as you got to your room, you opened the closet, looking for some "fabulous" dress Patrick wanted you to wear.
"Fucking narcissistic idiot," you cursed aloud as you flipped through your clothes, getting more and more annoyed by the second. "Why do I even care what he thinks about my appearance?"
You exhaled tiredly and hid your face in your hands, feeling the strong shudder in every inch of your fragile frame. This man, damn it, this man was a devil himself, and your father just called him 'a good guy'.
Unbelievable.
"All right, I have to pull myself together." You moved quickly to the mirror, breathing steadily and rubbing your cheeks. "I'll do it for Dad, I'll figure it all out."
Winking at your reflection, you returned to your search for a suitable dress, not realizing that it was getting late.
The next day started with a heavy rain which woke you up with its sound, so loud that you couldn't fall asleep again. So, you decided to get up earlier and write a bit before your work.
Your father was already gone when you got downstairs — the memories of your earlier conversation were still running through your mind, leaving a bitter aftertaste. As you made yourself a cup of coffee with your favorite organic milk, you couldn't stop thinking about what might happen tonight — the unknown made you feel a little nauseous, but the breathing exercises your mother taught you always helped you in such moments. Uh, what would your mom say to you if she were here, if she knew the situation you were in?
Would Patrick be able to enchant her so easily?
The workday went by so quickly that you didn't even realize you were rushing back home in the taxi. During the ride, you tried to distract yourself with your poems, some of which you had written during the break at the café where you had been with Patrick the day before. After many attempts, you noticed that whenever you tried to describe the feelings Patrick evoked in you, it seemed as if your mind was losing touch with reality. The pen he gifted you was burning your skin as if it were some cursed relic, but yet this phantom pain was something you probably missed in your life, it didn't feel like grief or sorrow — it was something completely new.
Even though you were not a huge fan of Manhattan, you couldn't deny the fact that it looked absolutely breathtaking at night, with all its lights, mesmerizing atmosphere, and soaring skyscrapers that made your head spin whenever you looked at them.
There was no doubt that the restaurant Bateman was taking you to would be exquisite and luxurious, so when you entered the establishment, you were not surprised that most people were paying attention to your persona, as you had no jewels, no beaded clutch — just your modest but tight black dress, which was one of your shortest. The maître d' escorted you to your table, and from that moment on, the game began between you and Mr. Bateman, although your conversation didn't flow at first.
"So, do you like this place?" Patrick asked a little indifferently after swirling his drink — J&B Whiskey, that seemed to be his favorite.
"Mmm, yeah, it's pretty good." You replied, avoiding his gaze and staring at the napkin on the table that you were nervously crumpling.
Bateman couldn't help but chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. "Pretty good?"
"What's wrong with it?"
"Uh," he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose briefly. "Do you even know what this place is?"
Finally, you left a poor napkin alone and looked up at him. "This is Dorsia, right? I saw a sign outside."
For a moment his face remained blank, but the next moment a deep, prominent line appeared between his knitted brows.
"Yeah, this is fucking Dorsia," he spat out his words and took a sip of his whiskey. "Nothing special."
Actually, his suddenly confronting tone was embarrassing. "Well...I'm not a frequent guest in these chic restaurants. Come on, you know that."
Unfortunately for you, your voice sounded more sad than irritated, and Bateman didn't miss it. His warm palm touched yours gently, but he didn't dare to look at you.
"Huh," he mused, drawing an invisible line across the back of your hand with his soft fingertip. "It's pretty hard to impress a girl like you, since you just don't understand—"
"The taste of luxurious life?" You cut him off, causing him to raise his brown walnut eyes to your face. They looked so mysterious in the dim light of the restaurant hall.
Patrick pulled his hand away as if struck by the electric shock, clenching his jaw in tension, and this sight was something you never thought you would have to witness.
In a few minutes of awkward silence, the waiter brought your food, and since you refused to take any alcohol, you asked him to give you a dessert menu — maybe something sweet would cheer you up and help you get through this strange dinner that was hard to identify as a date or whatever it might be.
"We have amazing cheesecakes, good choice." The waiter replied as you handed the menu back to him.
"Thank you," you made yourself comfortable in your seat and gave Patrick a warm smile, which left him a bit confused. "I need something to compare with the desserts I've had in my favorite café."
Although you hadn't intended it to be a joke, you weren't irritated at all when you heard his soft chuckle for the first time during dinner. "Just don't tell anyone about this," he crossed his arms and looked at you with a mischievous grin. "I don't want the local chefs to end their lives."
"Oh, God," you laughed, looking at his drink. "Why do you all have to drink whiskey? My Dad can't work without a bottle of his favorite drink next to him," as soon as Bateman heard about your Dad, he straightened up in his seat and fixed his Rolex. "Speaking of him...can I ask you a question?"
"You can try, babydoll." Bateman sneered in a mischievous voice and looked around quickly as if he noticed someone familiar.
"I want to know about the investments—"
"Hey, Halberstram!" An unknown male voice echoed from behind you, shamelessly interrupting your conversation. "Haven't seen you for a while, how have you been?"
A handsome man with light brown hair — wearing a stylish suit that was one hundred percent overpriced — came closer to your table and offered Patrick a handshake, which he accepted, but you couldn't help but notice a glint of anger in his hazel eyes.
"Allen," Bateman shook his hand and then quickly glanced at a woman next to him. "I didn't expect to see you here, I heard you were on vacation in Paris."
"Well, Meredith didn't really like it, so we decided to come back a little earlier," Paul replied, pulling a beautiful blonde girl closer to him. "I thought Halloween was over." Allen chuckled and pointed at you, making you palpably uncomfortable. "Nice manicure, so gothic."
Frowning, you checked your black manicured nails and then looked up at him, suppressing your inner battle to tell him to fuck off. "Thanks." You replied coldly and noticed Patrick clenching his fists in tension.
"And where's Veronica, Marcus? That big-titted chick you were hanging out with at the last yacht party?" Allen asked, continuing to stare at you with undisguised interest.
What the hell was going on? Why did he call him Marcus?
"Veronica?" Bateman interjected, pretending to try to remember. "She's probably with her family in South Hampton."
"Oh, and who is this punk girl?" Paul's question made your nails claw at the soft skin of your knee.
Patrick closed his eyes for a second, definitely trying to find the best answer. It was obvious that a man like him didn't want to ruin his reputation, since you were not a person from his circle. This seemed to be a dead end until an unexpected idea came to your mind.
"I'm a journalist," you explained in a confident voice. "And I'm interviewing...Mr. Halberstram because I'm writing a book about Wall Street."
"Wow," Paul seemed to be surprised. "That's...pretty impressive."
"Yeah," Bateman cleared his throat and unclenched his fists. "She's one of the best journalists in New York, and she wants to write a book, too."
Oh my God, please shut up!
"It's pretty impressive that you were allowed to come here," Meredith suddenly blurted out, giving you a disgusted look. "There's a dress code, you know?"
"I'll leave you for a while, since you have things to discuss." You fumed and got up from the table — Patrick didn't even try to stop you.
In a few minutes, you found your way to the outdoor terrace on the upper level. As you stepped in, you noticed another blonde woman — she looked gorgeous, with her elegant, red-manicured fingers wrapped around the burning cigarette.
"Um, excuse me," you approached her from behind. "Could you pass me a cigarette, please?"
As soon as she turned around, you could see her sad blue eyes, cold as ice. "Sure."
Carefully, she reached into her black clutch to find a pack of cigarettes and offered you one.
"Thank you." You smiled after she lit your cigarette.
"No problem," she grinned back, looking away to see the lights of New York city. "It's so beautiful here, isn't it? I wish he could be with me right now."
Her question left you speechless, because you didn't know how to react, but just as you were about to say something, you heard the door open and the unknown man with the red hair joined you on the terrace.
"Courtney, you're here. I was looking for you," he chirped with an affectionate intonation. "The cocktails are ready."
Unlike the guy, the woman — that apparently was named Courtney — didn't seem happy, you would even say she was getting sadder — her previous words puzzled you, because now it was obvious she was talking about someone else.
With the last puff of smoke, Courtney took a quick glance at the night city and turned to you. "Take care."
Even a few moments after they left, you could still feel the wisp of sharp sadness in the air. Shivering with cold, you came closer to the railing, looked down and smoked, the signals of passing cars distracting you a bit from your train of thought — that fucking snobbish bitch and her supposed boyfriend pissed you off completely and you didn't really want to come back. Her behavior reminded you of why you hated yuppies, Wall Street, money, luxury. You hated it all, while your father tried his best to give you such a life so you could turn into a heartless ghost with no emotions except greed and...disgust?
A sudden touch of soft, warm fabric made you almost flinch. "Are you trying to catch a cold?" A familiar voice asked, and a jacket was wrapped around your trembling shoulders.
No way that could be him. "Patrick?"
The next moment, the owner of the familiar voice — which was indeed Patrick — deftly snatched the cigarette out of your mouth, eliciting an irritated groan from your chest. "You don't need this, believe me."
As you turned around, you watched him puff on your cigarette, but when he blew out a few rings, his face cringed in disgust. "Jesus, this is some girlish shit." Patrick ranted and quickly put out the cigarette.
"What are you doing here?" You crossed your arms in a defensive gesture and stepped away from him.
Patrick chuckled softly, your eyes accidentally glancing around his broad chest and the fashionable suspenders that looked so good on him.
"You could have just told me that you wanted to suffer alone on the terrace like a crybaby. Then I wouldn't have had to look for you all over the fucking restaurant." His voice became slightly stern as a sign of the high level of irritation — his patience seemed about to snap.
"I didn't ask you to come after me," you retorted, but didn't take off his jacket because it was so warm and nice. "Besides, what the hell was that? Why did that guy call you Marcus? Is that your real name? God, maybe you're a fucking scammer trying to deceive my father?"
His loud laugh echoed in the fresh air, Bateman couldn't help but applaud because your theory was fantastic. "That...that was hilarious, babydoll," he theatrically wiped away a few tears and came closer. "We stopped at your question about your father, as I recall."
"You know what?" you suddenly charged at him, almost bumping into his solid torso. "You should have hired several hookers instead of taking me to this useless dinner. At least it would have been a lot cheaper!"
"What?" He asked, still giggling as if you had told him another joke.
"My father has been waiting almost a year for some extra funding," you started, shortening the distance between you to a mere inches. "And just like in fairy tales, the necessary investments were approved as soon as you got your hands on me. What a great coincidence, don't you think?"
Patrick hummed to himself, hiding his hands in the pockets of his pants. "Go on."
"You won't get it," your voice wavered, as if your nature refused to utter the words. "I know that rich guys like you can buy anything and everything — houses, cars, yachts, corporations, girls..." the more you spoke, the darker Bateman's eyes became. "Girls of all body types, ages, virgins or not, and so on. But for me — money is nothing, and I won't do it even for my father".
"You're done?" Patrick asked, pressing a finger to his lips and looking at you with an unreadable expression. When you nodded, he took you by the chin and tilted your head to the side, his thumb brushing against your lower lip as if by accident. "Now, listen to me, babydoll. I invited you to dinner because I wanted to apologize...for the things that happened between us..." your heart skipped a beat at his last words and your legs went weak, but you stood still, looking straight into his dark hypnotizing eyes. "I must say, you're a really cute, sweet girl, pretty even," he smirked as you shivered from his finger sliding down your neck. "But I don't want to be a babysitter."
"W-what?" You gasped, your voice barely audible as your breath hitched from the hard lump in your throat.
"(Y/n), listen, your father's business can be profitable enough, that's the only reason my Dad and I decided to finance it," Bateman removed his hand and stepped aside. "The long wait was caused by bureaucratic processes and my old man being away on business all the time."
There were no words to explain the feelings you were experiencing — frustration, deception, embarrassment?
"I…I understand," you bit your lower lip to keep the tears from forming in your dejected eyes. "Thank you for telling me the truth."
Just as you were about to take off his jacket, Patrick stopped you and after a small hug, he added: "Unfortunately, I don't like messing around with little girls because I'm pretty demanding when it comes to sex.” His arrogant grin was about to become the last straw of your self-control, but you kept fighting. "Let's go back to our table, your dessert must be waiting for you."
With a quick flick of your hand, you wiped away any traces of your tears when he didn't look at you. "I'm not hungry. Go, I'll join you soon."
Bateman gave you a worried look, then glanced at the railing and shook his head. "No, we'll come together, I'm responsible for you tonight and I don't want your father to be nervous."
How fucking cute.
P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!
#american psycho#patrick bateman x reader#patrick bateman imagine#patrick bateman#patrick bateman x female reader#patrick bateman x you#slasher x reader#slashers x reader#slasher x you#slasher smut#patrick bateman smut#patrick bateman headcanon#christian bale smut#christian bale x reader#patrick bateman reader#christian bale#patrick bateman imagines
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love love love the plm jealousy drabble! can you also write a super needy, subby plm koo 🥹 only if you have the time and energy! Tysm 🫰🏻
This is 5 months late but here it is - my take on "subby" Koo even if I do not know how to write this kind of dynamic. But I tried with CK JK in mind so I hope you like it. There's also lots of fluff and teasing and walking down memory lane and this is me, making up for the past 2 angsty parts. 🙂
Title: Please Love Me Bonus (09) - The Lake House
WC: 16,648
Tags/Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, past illness; CK JK, lots of teasing and fluff; talks of past sexcapdes; explicit sexual content ("subby" JK & OC trying to be a "dom" (??), mutual masturbation, thigh riding, oral (m & f receiving), straddling, fingering, lots of kissing, penetrative sex, creampie??) (18+) I’m obviously unsure of my smut pls forgive me 😅😅
Series Masterlist
“Am I making your heart flutter again, Mrs. Jeon?”
Jungkook smirks as he asks, his body turning towards you when he reaches the stoplight.
Seated on the driver’s seat with his one hand on the wheel and the other one on yours, you shyly smile, knowing you’ve been caught, even if you weren’t really hiding your obvious attraction for your husband on this specific day.
He’s got the short sleeves of his plain white shirt rolled up, his arm tattoos looking bright under the summer sun. His hair is curlier than usual as it’s grown longer, and paired with the denim jeans that you asked him to wear, he’s an absolute stunner.
“You know the answer to that, hun,” you giggle, briefly looking away before he tugs your hand to look at him again.
“I wanna hear you say it, baby,” he urges, his eyebrows wiggling now.
You know that he’ll take any chance he has to hear you confirm that you’re ogling him, and well, you’ve told yourself that you’ll do that every few times just to see him be a giggly mess.
“You are, Kook,” you concede. “My heart’s non-threateningly leaping out of my chest right now. You’re so handsome and you’re so happy; it’s my favorite version of you.”
“Ah, I thought post-shower Jungkook is your favorite,” he teases. “But you also said that about post-sex Jungkook, and post-gym Jungkook, and Jungkook with his glasses on, and—”
“Oh stop it,” you laugh, getting flustered at him pointing out just how weak you are for him. He’s not wrong, though. “They’re all my favorites.”
“You can’t have more than one favorite though,” he playfully rolls his eyes.
“So then what’s your favorite version of me?” You ask, challenging him.
“The present one,” he winks. “Today’s you is my favorite as of today; yesterday’s you was my favorite as of yesterday, and then the day before that was… you get my drift. Each one has been my favorite and it changes everyday.”
“You’re a cheater,” you shake your head.
“I am a lover, babe. I love every version of you.”
You cover your face as you feel embarrassed for you and him, and you’re glad you’re the only two people who are witnessing your husband be incredibly cheesy, which happens every once in a while. You know he does it to make you laugh but you also know there’s truth to the things he says, no matter how cringey they could be sometimes. He loves you that way, and you like that he does.
“Do you love the version that upsets you, too? And that cries and gets sad when you’re away?” You wonder out loud, knowing that any reference to your recent fight and its aftermath doesn’t hurt you both as much as it used to.
It was two weeks ago when he took the 4-hour drive from Busan to Seoul to be with you, and you’ve both been more comfortable talking about the things that hurt since then. It’s how you managed to get back to how things were, playfulness included.
“Of course, babe,” he says, more serious and softer now. “I love you even when I’m angry. And even if it’s hard to see you cry, I love it when I get to hold you again. And then, you know, we have sex and then you talk dirty to me.”
“Kook!” You squeal, feeling your cheeks warm at the reminder.
You’re rarely ever vulgar during sex, letting Jungkook take the reins in all ways including vocally, but that night, you felt so much desire that you just wanted to push him a little, perhaps make him feel how he makes you feel, and your words did what you wanted them to. He came so hard and you basked in the joy that you could do that to him. Thinking about it now makes you shiver, and you truly can’t wait for the long weekend you’ve been afforded to go out of town and be together, knowing what you’ll be doing most of the time.
“Why are you shy about it?” He chuckles, taking your hand from your face and kissing it. “It was so fucking hot, okay? And since you don’t do it much, it surprises me whenever you do, and that’s just… shit I’m getting hard just thinking about it.”
“Honey, behave,” you laugh, although the thought that he could get turned out at the memory of that night makes you giddy. Perhaps that version of you could show up in the next few days.
“I will,” he smiles sweetly now. “But you know it doesn’t matter, right? You could just be lying in bed and sounding the way you always do and that’s all I need. It doesn’t take much to make me happy. Just you.”
Your nose scrunches as you try to temper your smile, but it gives him more reasons to tease you.
“Your heart fluttering again?” He wiggles his eyebrows now.
You pout in response and he can’t help but laugh, and the sound of it warms your heart in ways you can’t fully express. You were without it for weeks, as you recall the days following your stint at the hospital, how Jungkook had been cold to you until things blew over, and how he was distant right after because he didn’t know how to handle all his conflicting emotions towards you. Looking back now, your biggest fight since getting married was because of how much love you both have for each other, and that says a lot about how far you’ve come.
Despite the weeks since then having been tough for Jungkook because of the meetings and project preparations he had to manage, he made sure to go home to you, hug you every night, message when he can’t call, and let you know that he needs you even when he’s just about ready to pull his hair from stress. And you were there, letting him lay on your chest, massaging his head, and kissing him constantly to let him know that you’ll weather the storm with him, no matter how tough things get.
After getting things going and delegating the tasks for his project, Jungkook got the approval from his father to get two days off, which is why you’re both on the way to Busan, having missed home so much. You’ve both only visited since you got married but never stayed long enough to go around, and like what you both promised each other, you’ll make new memories in the places that hold unpleasant ones. Home felt the same but you’re both different now, and the flirty smile that Jungkook gives you is evidence of that.
Perhaps it’s his feeling of temporary freedom that makes him look a lot more handsome today; he’s smiling and laughing and teasing, and it’s when his youthfulness shines. Perhaps it’s the way the sun highlights his caramel skin, or the way his curls fall on his shoulders, or maybe it’s the casual look that isn’t his usual sweatshirt and joggers ensemble that’s making him look even more irresistible. Maybe it’s everything, as he bops his head to the sounds of his playlist, his carefree vibe somehow making him glow.
Maybe you’re just as excited, and so everything he’s done since this morning is probably just preparing you for what’s to come.
You’d stopped to watch him dress up earlier and commented that he could be a jeans and underwear model, and he’d laughed, saying that in contrast to his younger years, he no longer feels comfortable walking in his boxers around strangers. He had to clarify that he joined some community fashion show during one of his backpacking trips because his companion convinced him and he was a hit; everyone was cheering and then flirting with him afterwards. He’s done with that, he’d said. You’re the only one he wants to see him that way; he’d give you a private show if you wanted, he teased.
During your stopover at a cafe for breakfast, he was sitting on the chair with his legs spread wide while sipping his coffee, and you allowed yourself just about a minute to imagine climbing on his lap and marking his pretty neck while he moaned your name.
And this whole drive, he’d been nothing but a tease - combing his hair with his fingers, dragging his tongue along his lips just because, and singing along to love songs while smirking at you. All the while, you’re smiling like a giddy teenager admiring her crush, and Jungkook makes sure to call you out on it. But you don’t mind, really, not when he stops at a shoulder on the road just to kiss the pout off your face and tell you that he becomes such a giddy mess every time he sees you be a mess yourself for him.
“Kook,” you whine against his mouth, wanting it all over you even if you know it’s not the time nor place. “We have to go to our grandparents’. You know they don’t like it when we’re late.”
“They miss us too much to get angry,” he argues, as he presses kisses down your neck.
“We’re still out on the road and in public,” you counter, panting now as your pleasure increases. “And I don’t want to go into that lunch with messy underwear because that’s what’s about to happen. Please, hun, I—” your moan cuts you off when his fingers press onto your clothed pussy, feeling now the effect he has on you.
“Hmm, baby,” he groans, suddenly frustrated at not being able to do anything more right now.
He shouldn’t have teased you like this but he also couldn’t go on another minute not kissing you after you looked at him the way you’ve been all morning. There’s this perpetual desire in your eyes, as if you’re savoring every action that he makes, perhaps coming up with scenarios in your head that he hopes you’d play out once you’re both alone. He suddenly wants to fast forward to tonight for that, knowing it’ll take you until the early hours of the morning to get fully satisfied.
“We should save all this energy for later, okay?” You say, taking his fingers that felt you up in your mouth, wanting to get back at him but also wanting to excite him; his hardened gaze says you succeeded. “In the meantime, we have to act like the precious, wholesome couple that our grandparents think we are.”
“Hey, we’re wholesome sometimes,” Jungkook laughs, willing himself to pull away from you and continue driving. “But, uh, do you think they’ll ask us about having children again? I don’t really know what to tell them; we can’t really ask them to not be on our business like we can with our parents. I just don’t want you to feel pressured.”
“I know, same here,” you sigh. “But Mother told me that she told them not to bring it up, since I have to focus on getting healthy again after what happened. Hopefully our grandparents won’t hound us about it.”
“If they do, then let’s just be honest.”
“And say what?”
“That we’re living our best lives and we’ve decided to let life surprise us,” Jungkook says. “And that it’ll come. And when it does, it’s gonna be really special because we prepared ourselves for it. Because that’s what we’re doing, right?”
“It is,” you smile, liking how he’s able to talk about having children in a casual manner now, with less of the fear and more of the excitement.
You may still be just letting things take its course - with some false alarms along the way - but the challenges in between have been helpful in preparing yourselves for eventually starting a family. You know that when it happens, it’s going to be everything you imagined it to be.
Your grandparents’ estate is not far from the beach. They bought a humble home in this area decades ago and slowly expanded the property by buying the surrounding land, until they were able to build a large main house with smaller living quarters for when their children and grandchildren visit.
The garden is large and well-designed. You claimed a section of it when you were young. It’s where you had your playhouse set up because playing in it was the only thing you could do; you weren’t allowed to run around like Seokjin and Soyeon were. There was a spot where you laid your mat to play with your dolls; as you grew older, it became the place where you’d read books or paint or draw. The playhouse is still there, a little old and rusty but you imagine your future children playing in there one day.
There’s a tall tree in the center and you stand underneath. It’s the one that used to shade you when you would watch your siblings play with the Jeons.
Apparently, it’s also the spot of your first picture with your husband, as you find out from your grandparents. Your grandmother holds an old photo they recovered from one of their albums - you and Jungkook at 2 years old, standing next to each other, with him in a red hooded jacket and you in a yellow sundress. There’s distance in between, but you’re both posing the way little kids do, and you can’t stop gushing over how adorable you both looked.
“Honey, look at us!” You giggle. “Two years before you started disliking me.”
“You mean, 2 years before you rejected me?” He counters, pouting at you.
You both pose the same way for another photo - Jungkook with a peace sign by his head and you with your close-lipped, sweet smile - and lay the polaroid next to the old picture, over 25 years apart. It’s amazing how things play out, you think to yourself as you gaze at them. Life does surprise you, and realizing it decades later is a different kind of special.
Jungkook makes you take another photo so he has a copy, and you indulge him, knowing he gets pretty sentimental about these things. He said once that he wishes he had more of your joint childhood to remember and treasure, but much of that only lives in your mind because you’re the one who always paid attention; he was the one who tried not to mind you even if you were right next to him, the jealousy clouding his mind. Which is why whatever piece of your past he finds, he’ll take it, if only to put together the puzzle of your lives back then, and smile because even if he doesn’t remember much of that, he remembers everything about this - your now and everyday.
He goes through other old photo albums of your grandparents, telling his grandparents that he’ll check their stack as well when you both visit on your last day. It’s stories of the yesteryears that fill the air as you finish your meal, and you’re thankful that everyone is immersed in the stories to even bring up your sickness or your future family.
The sound of Jungkook’s laughter fills your heart once more, and as he pulls you close under that same tree for a kiss, you think that it’s another new memory you’re going to hold dear.
Pulling up to the side of the road, Jungkook turns off the engine and meets you by the railings overlooking a semi-private beach. It’s one of several in town and Jungkook’s favorite. This is where he first learned to surf and he spent much of his time here with Jimin and Taehyung.
He tells you this as you both walk down the steps to get to the shore, reminiscing the days when things were much simpler.
“So that’s why you chose this for your 13th birthday party,” you say, looking around. “It’s gorgeous, Kook.”
“You knew I had it here?” He looks at you curiously, immediately thinking that Junghyun had told you.
“Yeah, I could tell from that big rock,” you say, pointing to it near the shore. “You had photos there and your brother told me how your mom was yelling at you to not jump from it. I… I asked him to show me pictures when he visited me at the hospital. I told him I wanted to see how happy you were.”
“You were recovering from surgery but you were still thinking about me, huh?” Jungkook says, a sigh almost escaping his lips at the thought.
“You were really excited about it and I was sad I couldn’t go. If I was strong enough, I would have, but I guess you wouldn’t have noticed either way,” you laugh, knowing that Jungkook didn’t pay much attention to you then.
“I was pretty bitter, actually,” he admits. “You were supposed to be family but you didn’t come - that was the thought in my head. Silly, right? And pretty childish.”
“You didn’t know, Kook,” you assure him. “So you were looking for me?”
“Sort of,” he laughs. “I was being petty. I remember not wanting to ask hyung where you were so I never did, but I just chalked it up to you never attending parties anyway, so what would be different about me?”
“Yours was the only party I would actually go to, but I didn’t want to be the boring girl to you who just sat at the table while everyone enjoyed,” you reason. “So I never went to the ones after that. I always wanted to, though. But that doesn’t really matter now, does it?” You turn to him and smile before you wrap his arms around your waist. “I’m literally family and we’re here together. I think this is a nice good memory to make.”
“It is,” he says, kissing your cheek. “I’m glad I took you here with me. Immature 13-year old Jungkook can get over it now. If I told him I’d be marrying you 12 years later, he’d probably cuss me out.”
“You were cursing at 13?!”
“Yeah. Don’t tell my Mother.”
You laugh together as you head back to the car, the late afternoon heat starting to prick at your skin. It’s been a long day but you’re nowhere near done. You take the half-hour drive to your home for the next few days, a place that holds a lot of unpleasant memories for you, which is why you insisted on staying there.
One of the Jeons’ beach houses would’ve been an easy choice, but when you told him where you wanted to go, he immediately understood.
With your luggage bags in his hands, Jungkook looks around the graveled pathway and at the cabin in front of him. “So this is the place, huh?”
The place, he repeats in his head - the one where you found refuge in when you wanted to be away from him after he’d hurt you. That fight before your wedding was years ago but sometimes, it still feels like not much time has passed. He gets to see where you spent your days though, and while that may remind you of how hard it was back then, you could at least remember it now as a place where you both spent your weekend together.
“This is the main house,” you say, ringing the doorbell and greeting the caretaker who welcomes you. You smile at the lake view just across; it calms your senses as it did all those years ago. “They only allow a small percentage of land to be used for residential purposes. When my siblings and I got older, my parents wanted to give us our own spaces, so they bought the surrounding areas so we can build our own houses however we want.”
You walk out to a covered pathway that leads you to your own piece of paradise - a one-floor home with a veranda that’s overlooking the lake. It has an open floor plan with the kitchen and dining on the left of the entrance. At the center is a freestanding wall that separates the sleeping area from the living room, both spaces having a good view of the water. The corner on the left houses your painting materials, giving you access to the outside where the magic happens.
There’s a stretch of land down the steps towards another walkway that juts out to the lake, and as you lean by the railing, you take in everything that you see. It’s been years but a lot of things look the same, and just like this city, it still is; it’s you and the man next to you who are different.
“So what did you do while you were here?” He asks, trying to imagine how you spent your days while he wasted away in your apartment in Seoul.
“I… cried,” you admit. “I was upset but I still missed you. But I also painted a bit, read books… Most times I just sat here. It’s so picturesque, you don’t really get tired of it. It helped because I kept thinking about you being alone and worried even if I wasn’t ready to speak with you then.”
“I was thinking of you a lot back then, too,” he says, facing you now and taking your hand. “I hated that you were alone and I didn’t know how to get to you. But I guess I should thank this place, too, for letting you breathe and letting you think. Is that how you forgave me?”
“It was,” you smile. “After my emotions settled, I thought that one day, I’d like to bring you here. I’m glad I could do that now.”
Jungkook smiles at you softly before his eyes turn desirous. “So are you gonna paint and read books and just sit out here this time, too?”
“Hmm, I could,” you smile back. “But I was also thinking of making love to you here. I think that would be nice.”
“It would be,” he hums, cupping your cheek now and pulling you in for a kiss. “We could probably start now, huh?”
His free hand sneaks inside your dress to cup your breast, and you jerk when he flicks your pert bud and you’re taken out of his spell.
“Honey, I’d love that but we have a dinner reservation soon,” you say, pulling away. “It’s jazz night and we said we’d catch that.”
Jungkook doesn’t look disappointed. He agreed with tonight, after all, and he thinks he’d just be craving more and more if you started anything right now, so he lets you go for a shower while he unpacks his things.
He looks out the water as the sun starts to set and spots the two other houses not far away. It seems as though those have been renovated, with extra rooms for your siblings’ kids now, and Jungkook wonders when you’ll have your own place extended for another room.
He lets the thought settle in, as he continues to get used to the idea of having a family with you. It would be nice, he imagines, driving off during long weekends to come here and enjoy the scenery and just spend time together. Your children would grow up knowing their great-grandparents, running around the same garden and beaches that he did, perhaps playing with your old toys, too. He knows those have been preserved at your request, waiting for the perfect time to give them away.
You call out to him and he turns around to find you in a simple linen dress, the neckline low enough for your tattoo to make an appearance. You look stunning, as always, and he has to stop himself from pulling you for another kiss.
He gets ready and goes out in a white button-up long-sleeve polo, loose enough for the cool summer evening. He catches you staring at him again, and he smirks at you to let you know that once dinner is over, your long night will begin.
The restaurant is just 10 minutes away by car. It’s fancy yet still cozy, serving some of his favorite elevated local dishes. The jazz performance is great, and with a small crowd, the singer encourages the guests to take the dance floor and that’s what Jungkook does, taking your hand and asking you to dance with him.
You’re shy at first but give in. Flushed against his chest, you both sway more than anything, and inhaling his ocean scent while he caresses your back, you feel that warmth that only his love can give, the kind of warmth you’ll constantly seek.
You finish your glass of wine before you head back to the car, with Jungkook laughing over something on his phone right before you leave, saying that the guys’ group chat is blowing up.
“What are they up to now?” You ask.
“Tae did this stranger role play with his girlfriend,” he shares. “You know, when they pretend like they don’t know each other and pick each other up?”
“O… kay. And then?”
“He got made up to look like some old Hollywood actor with the red jacket and slick hair and all. And people flocked to him to flirt before he could even get to his girlfriend. I can imagine she wanted to stop it all right then,” Jungkook narrates.
“Why don’t they just stay at their place and flirt there?” You say. “They can even dress up if they want to. Why go through the struggle?”
“Because it’s fun!” Jungkook exclaims. “There’s a kind of thrill from doing that, especially in a public place. The usual role play can get a bit over-the-top sometimes.”
“And you know that because… you’ve done it?” You ask, ready for his answer because you’re used to him just casually mentioning his previous sex adventures by now.
“Just the usual,” he shrugs. “Boss-secretary, doctor-patient… She was into it and I went along because sure, why not?”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Is that a trick question?” He asks, as he parks the car.
“No…” you answer. “I’m just wondering if role playing is something you like. If it is, then we can, I don’t know. Maybe try?”
He furrows his brows at you as you both enter your house, curious as to why you’re suggesting it when he knows it’s something that would make you uncomfortable.
“Or like… uh, what else could we do?” You wonder out loud.
“Baby, we don’t have to do anything else,” he says, pulling you by the waist now. “If this is about you wanting to be ‘adventurous’ to appease me, then I’m gonna stop you right there.”
“I was just curious,” you pout. “I mean, it’s no secret that you’ve done a lot of these… ‘adventurous’ things with your partners - sex in a tent, in an alley, behind a waterfall… a sex show, and role playing as well? I guess I’m just wondering if you want us to do something exciting, too. If you’re still into that.”
“Baby, why would I want something else ‘exciting’ when I’ve got you?” He says, his onyx eyes boring into you to let you know that he means every word. “I married the prettiest girl in the world. Why would sex with you not be exciting? You know how fast I get hard with you. That’s… that’s exciting.”
You feel your cheeks warm again because he’s right. He does get hard pretty fast.
“Plus, we’ve skinny dipped, had sex in a caravan, in the car, on a deck…” he continues. “But to be honest, you could just be lying down and I’d be all set.”
“That’s literally all I do,” you laugh embarrassingly.
He’s always known that you like things simple. Sure, you give in to Jungkook’s requests, but most of the time, you settle for the same positions that you know give so much pleasure. You’re content; you just wonder if he is, too.
“Not all the time,” he corrects. “And those are just as exciting as when you’re coming undone under me and moaning my name, your perfect tits bouncing and your tattoo reminding me how much you love me.” He kisses your neck and you sigh in satisfaction at the movement. “I could get hard just thinking about that.”
You merely hum in response, not able to move on from it. You want to surprise him, maybe go out of your comfort zone to excite him differently, and so your wandering mind continues, something he picks up.
“Okay. Why don’t you… take control this time,” he suggests. “It’s nothing crazy. It’s just you directing me what you want me to do, how you want me to do it… anything.”
“That’s fine, hun, except there are times when I try to do that but you get so impatient and touch me right away,” you counter, chuckling now as you recall the times you direct him what position you want but his mind goes blank once things intensify and so he’s got his mouth and fingers inside and on you in seconds.
“Fine, then we’ll do it without me being able to use my hands, then,” he says. “I’ll only use them when you ask, and stop when you ask. Are you okay with that?”
Your mind thinks of all the scenarios you’ve been playing in your mind all day, and you lick your lips in anticipation.
“Looks like you are,” he says proudly, excitedly. “I guess then, we can start?”
You nod your yes. “You’ll be good for me?”
“Fuck, yes,” he groans, his eyes widening in anticipation. “I’ll be so good for you, baby.”
“Kook, that wasn’t meant to be dirty talk or whatever,” you giggle. “I just meant that you’ll be good in following the instructions you set out.”
“Don’t care baby. Don’t take it back. But say it again, please?”
The way his eyes plead does something to you, and so you let your inhibitions go and follow what your pussy says. And right now, it wants to command Jungkook.
You bite your lip before kissing him softly on the neck, trailing up until you reach his ear.
“You’ll be good for me?” You whisper sultrily this time.
He releases an incredibly deep grunt before he answers. “Yes, baby. I’ll do whatever you want.”
“Okay,” you pant, feeling your heart race now. “Kiss me. Just kiss me.”
Your mouths crash against each other, desperate and wanting in their movements. Your tongues fight for dominance but he lets you take this, liking how you aggressively take him in and pull his hair, causing him to moan, even more as his hands remain at his sides, aching to touch you but he promised he’ll be good; he promised to let you take control even if all he wants right now is to rip off your clothes and make out with your body.
You moan as well, slowing down now as you try to catch your breath. You face him, your eyes glassy and your lips swollen, and he seems to like what he sees. You take his balled-up fists and unclench them, placing them over his top.
“Undress please,” you say softly. “And do it slowly.”
Jungkook follows, his fingers working on the buttons carefully, skillfully, making sure you get to see and remember what those digits could do to you. He can’t wait for you to direct him to work those on you later on.
He gets everything undone and so he removes it - slowly, as you asked.
You gaze at his toned body, crafted by immaculate beings themselves as they created him so perfectly - the tautness of his chest, the line down his torso that branches out to his abs, the narrowness of his waist, all complementing the gorgeous face that you also can’t get enough of.
His jeans hang right underneath the white band of his underwear, and though you love this look on him, you like something better.
“Pants off,” you say this time.
And he follows, undoing the button and unzipping his jeans, pushing them off him until they pool on his ankle. His feet do the work of ridding himself of the heavy material, and all the while, his eyes are set on you - dark with lust and challenging you to do more, to ask him of more.
“Sit on the couch for me, baby,” the pet name coming out during tense moments like this.
He walks there as you say, and you watch his half-naked form move away from you, and it’s making you go feral.
“Where do you want my hands?” He asks when you’re finally standing in front of him.
“Just on the side,” you answer, your mind going hazy as you admire him seated on the couch now, his legs spread enough for you to see the stiff member in between.
His eyes remain on you but you’re staring at his gorgeous lap and those blue boxer briefs he’s wearing, shaping him in all the right ways. You take this time to ready yourself, removing your dress for him to observe. With your lace underwear, you know you’ve got him craving for you. His jaw tightens and you know just how to ruin him.
You kneel down in front of him and he seems to know what you’re up to, as he clenches his fists to control himself. He looks like he really wants to break his own rules now. But you push on, meeting his eyes before licking a strip over his clothed cock. It’s hardened even more now, and you can’t wait for what you’re about to ask him to do. You softly bite the flesh, feeling him strain his thighs as you tease him relentlessly.
Once you think you’ve teased him enough, you look up at him. “I want to see,” you whisper. “Take it out for me, show me what I do to you.”
He grunts before he follows, taking his cock out of his boxer brief, begging in his mind that you’d let him at least squeeze it because with you in your underwear on, commanding him like this while still maintaining your softness and hints of shyness, he’s losing his mind; he’s in real pain right now.
“Do you think about me when you’re away?” You ask.
“Yes, baby. I think about you all the time.”
“What do you think about?”
“Kissing you,” he grunts. “Tasting you, sucking every sensitive part of you, making love to you. Fuck, baby, I could go on.”
“Can you show me what you do when you think about those things?” You say, taking deep breaths now as you prepare yourself for what you’re about to see.
Jungkook sighs in relief and gets to it, squeezing his throbbing member and stroking it as you requested. He wouldn’t have known that this is what you wanted him to do. He’s obviously touched himself during the times before sex, and he also really does it when he’s away from you, but doing it this way - on the couch while you now stand before him, your eyes watching his every move - it’s exhilarating.
He continues his movement, getting into it completely as he takes in the way you look, especially with your parted mouth and heaving chest as you watch him pleasure himself to the sight of you. It seems like you’re in a daze, as your eyes don’t move away from him.
It’s the way his perfect slender fingers wrap around his thick, hard cock. It’s the way they glide, how his thumb occasionally presses the tip, how he starts to heave, feeling the pleasure build up, and how his head leans back and his back arches, revealing the column of his smooth neck, a perfect canvas for you to mark later on. You don’t stop the moan that you release, wanting to get into it, too, as the sight of your husband touching himself to the thought of you is so captivating. Seeing that this is what he does when he’s missing you makes you giddy, and you get to marvel at all of that right now.
You sit on the coffee table, your eyes still not leaving him. You feel the dampness in your underwear, so you press your fingers onto it for that much-needed friction, and you’re left wanting more. You remove it, feeling the string of essence stick to you and disappear as you throw your lace clothing on his side.
You touch yourself, too, your fingers drowning in how wet you are. They aid in your own pleasure, as you rub patterns on your clit that has Jungkook’s eyes widening in shock as you get into your own action, quickening by the second. Your eyes drift away briefly from him as your thighs start to shake, only being brought back when you hear him ask you to “open up.”
You spread your legs wider to give him a view, knowing that will help him. You want him to reach that peak, and you want to see him do so, since you miss out most of the time because you’re too caught up in the haze of how he pleasures you. You continue with your movements, speeding up once you feel you’re close to the edge, and Jungkook matches your pace, only for you to crash first.
“Oh my god,” you heave, feeling the mess you’ve made of yourself, and seeing it, too, as it pools on the coffee table.
“Fuck, baby,” Jungkook groans, his hand still working on his cock. “That’s so hot, I’m— fuck, I’m close. I want to come, baby. Fuck.”
He looks at you like he’s pleading, but you want to be selfish. You want to hold onto this scene of Jungkook pleasuring himself like this.
“Just a little bit more,” you end up saying out loud.
He concedes, knowing he’s given you all control. He slows down a bit, just so he won’t make a mess before you’ve asked him to.
You see his thighs shaking, his jaw clenching so tightly, and the veins from his hands and arms popping out form how much he’s controlling himself.
“Fuck, baby. I can’t take it anymore,” he pants.
You don’t want him to suffer. You’ve ingrained this scene in your mind already, so you tell him he can come, and the grunt that he releases will live in your mind, too. He paints his torso with his slick, but you get to him before it all ends, as you kneel back down and take his dick in your hand to swallow all that’s left.
“Shit, baby,” he groans again, taking you in with your eyes closed, lapping him up as you lick him off. “You drive me crazy. That was so hot.”
You sweetly smile at him before spotting his cum on his abs, perfectly placed on the dips and ridges, tempting you to clean him up.
And that’s what you do, as you lean forward and lick what’s remaining of his seed, your tongue gliding upwards and to the sides of his stunning plane. You lick and suck each patch of skin in your way, and you feel him still shaking a little bit, perhaps still coming down from his high. You get to his nipples, dark and beautiful as you nibble on them while trailing up to meet him in a searing kiss, letting him taste himself on you.
“I’m sorry for making you hold back,” you whisper against his lips, meaning it because you could tell he’d really wanted to come.
“No need to, babe,” he responds, heaving. “That was so sexy; I was losing my mind.”
You giddily smile, and Jungkook doesn’t know how you can maintain that sweetness while saying words and doing things that make him breathless.
“Can you go again?” You ask, eyeing his flaccid cock and licking your lips.
“As much as you want me to,” he replies, his body tensing in anticipation once more when you trace his dick with your fingers, tugging on the hem of his boxer brief until you’re pulling it off him completely.
You place it on his side and return to kneeling in front of him, capturing his gaze and savoring the look of him naked and willing. “I really like that brand of underwear.”
“I’ve been wearing that since I was a teenager.”
“I know,” you hum, earning him a cocked eyebrow from you. “You used to wear those low rise jeans that showed your brief’s waistband, and then you’d pull up your shirt or do cartwheels or anything to show off. It wasn’t hard to miss.”
You giggle at the memory, recalling how anytime Jungkook revealed slivers of skin when you were both in your teens, you’d get flustered and look away. Your siblings and Junghyun didn’t miss how nervous you’d been then, saying that your little crush grew up with the both of you.
“Ah, yeah. It made the girls go wild,” he smugly says.
“That includes me now. It’s probably the tiny waist,” you say, kissing him there, your hair dangling over his skin that causes him to curse.
“Or the strong thighs.” You spread his legs open so you can kiss him in places, too, finding his sensitive parts and licking him there. He stiffens at your movements, his clenched fists clenching even more, and when you look at his dazed eyes, you know you’ve got him wanting again.
“Fuck, fuck, baby,” he heaves, losing breath once more.
“Or, to those lucky enough to see it, your pretty cock,” you smile sweetly again, as if your words aren’t sending him in a spiral.
Perhaps all the times that you’d ogled at him quietly isn’t so bad, Jungkook thinks, knowing that this is how you are once you finally voice them out. You’re so enchanting like this, as the lust in your eyes is tinged with that love and adoration you have for him. It’s such a turn on, but it’s also turning him into mush.
He watches you as you suck his balls and then lick a strip up his member that’s now stiffened from your words. You take him in - slow and deep - before swirling your tongue around and he seriously could cry. You’re teasing him but giving so much at the same time; his mind and body don’t know what to do.
“But it’s all yours now, baby,” he drawls, tempted to break his rule and tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. “This body’s all yours and you can do whatever you want with it.”
You pop his cock out of your mouth and smile at him. “I will. That’s why I will admire it all I want.”
You stand up and look down at him, liking the anticipation in his eyes. You remove your bra and proceed to sit on his thigh, your slick sticking to his skin immediately.
“You can touch me a little with one hand,” you mumble, humming once you let him cup your cheek first.
“You’re so beautiful, baby,” he moans, tracing your lower lip with his thumb before sliding it inside your mouth.
You suck on it while meeting his eyes, and he pulls it away before a moan escapes you, his wet finger now tracing circles on your pert nipple. His smooth hand with patches of callouses from his workouts caresses your bare body, fondling your breasts and pulling your face close for a kiss. It’s right after when you take his hand and place it on his side, signaling that his time for exploration is over.
You’re in control again, as you slowly grind against his taut thigh, perfect for the friction you badly need.
“You’re so beautiful, Kook,” you smile, combing your fingers through his curly locks. “I like your long hair,” you say. “You kinda look like a rockstar.”
He chuckles at your remark, a little thankful for the change in your tone. “So I’ve been told. That’s why grandfather asked me to cut it. I said I need something to pull when I’m stressed since work is driving me up a wall and they’re all pushing me too hard.”
“Hmm, still talking back to your elders, I see,” you laugh. “Nothing’s changed, Kook.”
“I’m a lot braver now because I’m with you,” he winks. “You’re kind of my shield, you know? You protect me from them so I can be honest. They gave me shit for my tattoos but they stopped once you got yours.”
You hum in satisfaction at the thought, knowing that you could do this for him.
“Guess I’ll have to comment during lunch with them that I love your long hair and your grandfather won’t ask you to get rid of it,” you giggle. “He quite adores me and trusts my taste.”
“Nothing’s changed, indeed,” he laughs, knowing that even from his side, they adore you wholeheartedly.
“I love hearing you laugh, hun,” you say, causing him to smile at your words. “You look so free and happy and so full of love.”
“And that’s because of you,” he responds, his voice low and serious and it does something to you again. “You’re all I need, baby. You’re all I want in this life.”
You nod to let him know you feel the same, but it gets you going, with you wanting to keep on admiring him. And you do, kissing him tenderly with your arms around his neck as your fingers comb his hair. You continue to slide against him and his moans in between tell you how into it he is.
Your lips slide down to his jaw and then to his neck, alternating between its smooth expanse to the stunning canvass of his chest. It’s soft kisses turned to playful nibbles turned to desperate sucking, as you take all of him in and express your adoration with marks and bruises that will stay with him. You’re rarely able to do this because he’s always the one on you so you take your time, liking the rise and fall of his chest and the moans and curses he lets out and the way he tries to hold back any other movement from the one you’re directing him to do, which is nothing.
So you give him something, reaching out for his hand and guiding it to his cock that’s hard right now. “Touch yourself please,” you ask, your hand still on top of his as he strokes his member like you instructed.
“Keep going, okay? I just want to see you this way,” you whisper in his ear. “You’ll get to touch me soon.”
“Yes, baby,” he moans, cursing as you increase your pace of thrusting against his thigh.
You suck his neck, feeling his head bopping to his own movements and hearing the vibrations from his throat. You finally sit back up to watch him touch himself, the same movements from earlier driving you just as crazy. His parted mouth makes you want it on you, so you ask him to kiss your body, and he happily complies.
“Fuck, yes,” he grunts once his mouth is on your breast, aggressively licking and sucking just like you did on his neck. “You’re so hot, baby. I could suck your tits forever.”
“Hmm, I’d love that.”
Jungkook gets lost in the softness of your breasts. It’s perfectly shaped and feels so good in his mouth. He knows how to get you going, so he does all the licking and sucking and tricks he knows. It’s hard when he could bust any moment as he pleasures himself; it’s tough not being able to touch you, too, but he’d take this scenario any day. Hearing you instruct him what to do drives him wild, even more with your giddy and soft eyes looking back at him before it turns lustful.
Your moans are louder now; your thrusts are getting erratic, too. Jungkook wants to savor this but he also wants to reach his high with you. But you take his free hand first and direct it to your cunt, and his curses again at being able to feel exactly how wet you are.
His fingers find your throbbing clit right away. Bent a little back, you give him space to play with you, getting lost in it once again because even with limited movement, he knows just what to do.
Jungkook works his way on your cunt while he continues to stroke himself. It’s insanely pleasurable. It’s also getting hard and painful, and so it’s music to his ears when you say that you want him inside you.
He lets go of his cock for you to slide down on, and the relief of your velvet walls makes him shiver. It’s like being out in the cold and then being wrapped up in something warm; your pussy is all the comfort he needs.
But you’re still in control, he reminds himself, as you thrust on your own pace before you’re bouncing on top of him. Seeing your breasts bounce with you is disarming; you’re so sexy like this and he has to remind himself that you’re his wife and he’s truly able to be blessed by this sight everyday.
You collapse on his chest, flushed against him as you catch your breath. But you keep going, grinding against him slowly. He takes the opportunity to nibble your ear and you don’t complain, so he keeps going, sucking your neck until you’re moaning and bouncing on him again. You sit back up and turn to him, and he captures your breast in his mouth. That’s when you lose it, feeling an out-of-body experience where all your nerves are heightened and stimulated so you give in.
“Take control, baby,” you moan. “I want to come all over your cock and I want you to come inside me.”
You say it to challenge him, to get him going, and that’s what happens, as he growls and immediately lays you on the couch because even as he loves this view of you, there’s still nothing like seeing the pleasure on your face when he’s on top of you, pushing to the depths of your hole and hitting you where you want it.
Your hair creates a halo and you look absolutely stunning, ready and desperate for him, as you whisper that you love him, that you want to feel him inside of you.
Jungkook thrusts hard. He’s got your legs spread so he can hold your thighs up and you can touch yourself while he’s reaching that spot that only he can. You both watch as he slides in and out, and it’s messy and obscene and erratic and every bit as good as it can get. You’re screaming by this time, and when he feels your legs shake, he goes even harder.
He kisses you, wanting to swallow in your moans when you finally let go, and you do, after a deep thrust that sends you over the edge. But he continues, chasing his high as well. He gets there when you whisper in his ear, feeling as if his body’s on fire with your words.
“Come for me, baby. You’re so good to me,” you moan. “No one can make me feel good like this. You’re all I need, baby. You’re all I want.”
He loses it every time you praise him like that and you know this, and that’s why you always say it at the end, when you want to bask in his essence just as he basks in yours.
You feel his warmth coating your walls, and just as you’re about to shiver from the sound of his end-of-sex moans in your ear, he turns to face you - damp hair and heaving chest - and his look softens, his small smile appearing before kissing you tenderly.
“I love you, so so much, baby,” he mumbles against your lips. “Every version, every day.”
You giddily smile at him again and wrap your arms around his neck to pepper his face with kisses. You pull him on top of you until he shifts to lay on your side, afraid to suffocate you after what was an intense period of lovemaking, which really started from when you’d asked him to take his clothes off.
“How was that?” You ask, turning to face him.
“Baby, did you see me?” He chuckles. “I was a mess.”
“Yeah, me too,” you laugh, nodding towards the droplets of cum you left on the coffee table. “I… I kinda let myself go earlier.”
“And it was so fucking sexy,” he praises. “But did you like it? Did you like being in control and teasing me like that?”
“I did,” you giggle. “You were pretty pliant, too. Not gonna lie, I was surprised. I thought you were gonna be whiny about it.”
“I was losing my shit,” he admits. “But I kinda made the rules and it was so hot hearing you tell me what to do. Or, well, ask. You’re still pretty polite about it.”
You laugh along with him but he assures you that he doesn’t mind it, and that he’s glad you don’t try to change just because you’re with him. The last thing he wants is for you to feel like you have to be adventurous or daring just to make him happy.
“I know I talk about my reckless and thrill-seeking past like it’s a badge of honor but it doesn’t mean that I’m not satisfied with our safer, more comfortable way of living,” he tells you. “I don’t yearn for anything more than what we do, okay? You literally turn me on with whatever you’re doing or wearing so don’t think I’d want you to be or do anything else, babe. I get to kiss you and make love to you all I want and that’s it… I’m a happy man.”
You scrunch your nose and giddily smile at his words, hiding your flushed face on his chest.
“And when you lose your shit like that because of me… it’s pretty special, too,” he adds, hugging you now.
You turn to face him and soften at how he fondly looks at you.
“You… ignite something in me, Kook,” you say. “Coming here after so long reminded me a bit of how it was back when I left. I was emotional because it hurt, and it was because I cared about you; I always did. Junghyun told me how distraught you were and I let myself believe that you cared about me, too. That’s what made me go back to you and try to make it work. And being back here… I just can’t believe how far we’ve come.”
You caress his face and he kisses your hand, the sparkles in his eyes making your heart race once more.
“You make me love so certainly and so passionately,” you add. “It’s thrilling, loving you like this. And we can argue or have issues or feel off with each other sometimes but if at the end of it, we can forgive ourselves and each other then it’s okay. We love hard and I know that’s how I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
It’s his turn to scrunch his nose now and smile, choosing to kiss you deeply as he pulls you in a hug instead of saying anything more. You’ve said it all, he thinks; he knows you know he feels the same.
But still, you ask. “Have I left you speechless now, Mr. Jeon?”
He laughs at your teasing. “I don’t know why you say you’re not good with words. I… I needed to hear them, babe. Being here and knowing where you spent your days while I was wallowing in guilt and misery at home hits me but doing all this now with you reminds me that we got through that. And we got through the past weeks, too.”
“Thank you for taking a short break to be with me here,” you say, kissing him.
“Baby, I wouldn’t pass up on any break from work,” he laughs. “But hyung assured me that I could. He knows I need to be with you after all that.”
You sigh in relief as you hug him, feeling the knots and bolts of his body melt away like yours are. Being together is like that for both of you, you think. Your love - in whatever form it’s expressed - is healing; it’s rejuvenating. It’s the kind you give so much of yourself to but feel like you’re becoming whole, complete, yet there’s still space for more.
You’re glad your parents made that deal with the universe to save you all those years ago. It made you live long enough to experience this.
A small smile forms on Jungkook’s face as he watches your soft, steady breathing. You seem to be in a deep sleep - a good one - he thinks, as the light from the sun coming from the glass doors doesn’t seem to be bothering you the way it usually does. He can’t blame you though. Last night was incredible. And pretty tiring, too, especially at the end when you let him take control, and he’d made love to you hard on the couch and then during your shower right after.
You were breathless by the time you were in bed, and you had to constantly assure him that he didn’t go too hard for the sex to be considered a ‘strenuous activity.’ You’re still required to take things easy, as your cardiologist had told you, and the last thing Jungkook wants is for you to overwork your heart just because he’d been too keen to fuck you. But seeing you enjoy yourself did things to him. So did seeing you be giddy, and then hearing you express your feelings.
It’s been a tough few weeks. He knew that during the times he was cold and distant towards you that he still felt so much love; it was just hard to express it because he was upset. He just had to process his negative emotions properly and ride them out. Once he’d cleared his head, there you were again, the only clarity he needed, and he was back to being the lovestruck man who’s head over heels in love with his wife. The best part was that you were the same, and being back in Busan and in this specific house is making him a little sentimental. And pretty horny, too.
Jungkook moves away from the bed and removes his shirt that’s absorbed all his sweat. He woke up early and went for a run down a nearby trail, savoring the cool morning breeze by the water and the natural sounds of the forest. It was gorgeous, and he thinks of going on a picnic with you tomorrow to see the sights.
He just got back to the house, expecting you to be awake, but the sight of you sleeping peacefully is still something nice to return to. Wanting to take advantage of the tranquility of this place, he decides to do some painting.
You showed him your corner yesterday. It’s complete with an easel and a stool that faces the view. There’s a bench with paint and brushes that you’ve left and you brought. You told him he could use them if he wanted.
The lake sparks creativity, you said, and he feels that now. The sun casts a glow over it that he wants to capture in brush strokes, and he wants to create something to remind him of this particular day and this specific moment, where he stands by the kitchen counter in a space you’ve both come to claim as your slice of heaven. Moans were bouncing off the walls last night but right now, it’s quiet. And whether you’re naked and bouncing on top of him, or naked under the covers as you take your needed rest, he knows you’re all he needs and wants, and he’ll never get tired of telling or showing you all that.
Choosing the colors he’ll be using, Jungkook starts to work. He stays true to the view before him, blending the blues and yellows and greens that he sees and laying them all out on the canvas. He wants to surprise you, show you he’s learned some tricks that he’s seen you do; he can already imagine your proud face and that gets him excited.
It’s almost an hour later when he hears shuffling inside the house followed by your call of his name.
“I’m outside, babe,” he yells. “I prepared the coffee in the pot, just press the button.”
You shout out your thanks and he gets back to work, immersed in the almost-finished product when your voice takes him out of his zone.
“That’s gorgeous, Kook,” you hum. “Way better than the one you did the last time.”
“Hey,” he laughs, tickling you.
He turns to you and his face softens. You’re standing next to him with mussed hair dressed in his white button-up polo from last night. He’d left it on the stool by your bed and you probably decided to wear it when you got up because you know he loves seeing you wear his clothes.
“Am I making your heart flutter, Mr. Jeon?” You tease, seeing his soft, dimpled smile.
He hasn’t said anything for the past 10 seconds and you think maybe it’s your chosen morning outfit.
“You know the answer to that,” he replies, pulling you by the waist and directing you to sit on his lap. “It was supposed to be a surprise,” he says of the painting. “But since you’ve seen it, what do you think?”
“It’s very Bob Ross-esque,” you compliment him. “And it’s really good, hun. The day’s pretty nice, huh? I’d paint this scenery, too, if I wasn’t so tired.”
“You’re welcome,” he smirks. “But I went for a run and everything was just so pretty. You were still sleeping when I got back so I thought to try painting while waiting for you to wake up.”
“Well, it’s good I was still asleep then,” you smile. “The piece is great. You’ve got a good teacher, I’d say.”
“She is. She’s pretty hot, too, so it’s hard to focus sometimes.”
“You’re so cheeky,” you playfully roll your eyes before kissing cheek and standing up to get your coffee.
You choose to lean on the railing when you return, soaking up the midday sun and relishing the calmness of the lake. It’s so peaceful out here, making you appreciate your house’s soundproof walls because you definitely were not quiet last night. Other than the loud thrumming of your heart at how much you were lusting over your husband touching himself and coming undone in front of you, you also know that your joint moans were pretty obscene.
You didn’t shy away from letting him know how you were affecting him, especially when he’d pounded into you so purposefully that you felt him so deep within you. Even the bathroom sex was mind-blowing. So was the loving way he’d kissed you until you both fell asleep, and the thought of all the ways that Jungkook makes love to you sends a shiver down your spine.
You shake a little bit and turn around, surprise laced on your face as you see your husband looking at you from his stool, legs spread with a smirk on his face in all his shirtless glory.
“How long have you been ogling me?” You arch an eyebrow.
“As soon as you came out,” he smiles. “You look stunning, babe. The lake’s pretty lucky it gets to be your background.”
You chuckle at his cheesiness and sip your coffee. “Finish your work now and then we can get ready to head out. We can have early lunch at the seafood place our families used to go to.”
With you by the railings looking breathtaking against the view, it’s a nice scene that Jungkook wants to capture. “I wanna try to draw you,” he states, taking one of your sketch pads and placing it on the easel now.
“Oh yeah?” you ask. “I should pose then.”
He turns to you just as you start unbuttoning your top, leaving your tattoo and black satin underwear exposed. You see him visibly swallow and you push it, adjusting his polo to reveal more of your skin.
“This okay, hun?”
“I–, uh… hmm,” he furrows his brows, his eyes flitting from you to the pad.
Jungkook decides he’s not good enough to capture you in drawing, and he’s definitely not patient enough to wait to finish it before he can kiss you because the way you’re teasing him is a little too much. He has to have you right now.
Retrieving the polaroid camera from inside the house, he walks back out and snaps a shot. “I won’t do you justice, babe,” he explains. “And you look too fucking sexy to pass up on.”
He takes another one and then places them on the coffee table next to him. He walks to you and immediately captures you in a deep kiss, his hand gripping your waist the same way yours grips his chest.
“So that worked, huh?” You giggle. “I was wondering when you were gonna just walk over here and claim me.”
“You could’ve just said you wanted me, too,” he laughs. “You know I like hearing that.”
“You also like it when I tease you,” you counter. “And, well… here I am.”
You bite your lip and pull the polo just enough to expose your shoulder, and Jungkook basically growls at the act, putting away your coffee then kissing you once again.
You moan against his mouth once his hand slides inside to fondle your breast, and the sensation from his touch sends you in a daze. You let him suck your neck only for a while, nudging him to turn to you so you could get a look at him.
“Baby,” he whines, wanting to have continued to map out your body in this open space.
“I just…” you trail, your eyes scanning his half-naked form, his cream-colored joggers low enough again to show the band of his boxers.
You trace your fingers down his torso, following the lines and ridges that you know he works hard on. His breathing quickens, even more so when you slowly slide your hand in, immediately stroking his semi-hard cock.
“Fuck,” he groans, his head leaning back at the pleasure he feels, your soft skin soothing yet electrifying him at the same time.
But you shouldn’t be the only one, he thinks, as his hand sneaks inside your underwear now, his fingers finding your throbbing clit amidst all the wetness.
“Mhmm,” you hum, your mouth parting as you suck in a breath.
Jungkook wants to bask in your look as you pleasure each other, but he also really wants to kiss you, so he pulls you close, angling your head with his other hand and takes you in. It’s all tongue and teeth, as you both seem desperate for the other, and that’s what prompts him to start walking back and taking you with him, needing to taste you this second because he can feel just how wet you are for him.
He guides you towards the desk near your bed, lifting you a little so you could sit on it, causing you to let go of his dick and you whine in response. You’re not able to say anything more, as he slides two fingers inside your hole at the same time that he sucks your nipple.
“Kook, oh my good,” you keen, feeling your slick spread as he pumps into you.
He doesn’t say anything. He just continues with his movements as you heave in pleasure, grinding reflexively as you seek more friction than just his fingers.
“Do you want more, baby?” He asks, looking at you now.
“Yes,” you whisper, your mouth parting once he presses your clit. “Want your mouth. Oh god, baby, I want your mouth.”
He slows down his movements before retrieving his hand from your damp underwear, showing you his fingers drenched in your slick. He licks them off you as he holds your gaze, and you take his hand off his mouth so you could suck them, too.
You moan as you do, suddenly wanting his dick as well. He crouches down before you get to say anything, pulling off your underwear to see you dripping wet, your essence forming a dot on the desk this time. You’d be embarrassed if he didn’t look so turned on by it, and you completely lose it once he licks a strip up your pussy and swirls his tongue around it.
You lose all sense by then, allowing yourself to just let go because with how he’s gripping you and sucking you dry, you know you won’t be able to control how your body will react anyway.
He sets a rhythm, pulling your hips to meet his mouth and you follow the pace, grinding against him as your body burns with so much pleasure. Your ass sits by the edge and your legs are hanging on air, but you know he’s got you. It isn’t like this is the first time, yet every time feels like it is. Jungkook does you so well, you’ve stopped questioning his ability at this point.
Your legs start to shake and his hands glide to hold up your thighs while your arms support you. It’s uncontrollable by now and you don’t mind the moans that escape you. He’d just fucked you senseless last night but that already feels too far away. You know it's still gonna be another good one this time.
“I’m coming, Kook. Agh–” you shriek, feeling it so suddenly, until you’ve reached the edge and feel even wetter, as your orgasm hits and it feels like a waterfall.
Your husband hums from in between your legs, taking all that he can, even as your legs continue to shake. He kisses your inner thigh before kissing up your torso, meeting your dazed look with his satisfied smile.
“Can you go again, baby?” He smirks, taking off his joggers and boxer briefs in one movement to reveal his cock that’s definitely ready for you.
You want to trace the veins with your tongue, lick the pre-cum off it, and swallow it until you can’t breathe, but his hand gets to it first, with him knowing now how touching himself turns you on. He strokes himself a little, and the version of you that touches herself when he does is back, as you instantly fiddle with your clit to address the aching need at the sight of him like this.
Holding the base of his member, he pushes slowly into you, joining your moan at the feel of him within your velvet walls.
“Baby, you feel so good,” he grunts, as he meets your thrusts. “So, so fucking good, my dick could live here.”
“I want it to,” you manage a response. “Kook, baby, you’re so big. Go deeper, please. I can take it.”
Jungkook follows, moving closer and pushing harder as you ask, feeling your edge as he drags his cock against your walls. You’re moaning in his mouth, lips no longer moving as you feel lost in all that he’s doing to you.
“You like that so much, don’t you?” He moans. “Like how deep I go? How much I stretch you out?”
“Yes, baby,” you huff, unable to form words now. But you try, knowing he likes hearing you like this.
You’re flicking your nipple while he’s massaging your clit, and with all the movements, you feel it again. You try to hold out, wanting to savor this feeling a little longer, but Jungkook’s erratic movements tell you that he’s just about to reach his peak, too, so you let yourself go again, waiting for the crash and hoping he’d get to do it with you.
His body shakes now, you feel it, as yours does the same. And it’s not long after when you feel the shiver all over you, and then he comes, too with a release of a deep breath that gives you goosebumps.
He pulls out, and seeing his cum slide out of you, he pushes back in, making you yelp in surprise.
“We made a mess,” he chuckles, his voice low and hoarse from all the moaning he’s done.
“Hmm, we did,” you huff, seeing him swirl his dick with your joint essence on your pussy.
He’s done this before. But seeing it from this angle, with the sun shining from your glass wall - it’s incredibly sexy. You laugh to yourself. It’s not even lunchtime.
“Honey, I’m tired,” you laugh now.
Jungkook kisses you tenderly and you smile against his lips. “Okay then. We shower and then we take a nap. Food can wait.”
You stare at the plates of food that you and Jungkook had devoured. A lunch for 4, you think, and you blame the late morning nap you took that’s caused you to have your first meal at 1PM. You don’t mind though, as the dishes were much more delicious with how hungry you were, and Jungkook seems the same, as he satisfyingly smiles at you.
“Ah, that was good,” he hums. “Nothing like our favorite seafood restaurant.”
“I know, right? I remember how our grandparents would always reserve the function room for our families,” you say. “You boys were always so rowdy, running around the place.”
“Food energizes us,” Jungkook shrugs. “And yeah, I remember. Seoyeon would scold us for being noisy.”
“And I was always just there, sitting and laughing at the silly faces you were making when the adults finally told you off.”
“You really had a crush on me, huh?” He smirks, pulling you closer to his side so he could have a better look at you.
“Yes, and you really never noticed,” you counter, laughing at his pout. “Would it have made any difference if you knew that weak little me adored you and your bowl-cut?”
“I really don’t understand how you found that cute,” he laughs. “That’s my most embarrassing look ever.”
“What? It was adorable!” You giggle, pinching his chin. “You were always so mischievous but the haircut made you look tiny and pure for some reason. Plus, you had this smile. It was always very sweet.”
He sighs at the thought, imagining a prepubescent Jungkook causing trouble with you still thinking he was pretty special. “I don’t remember as much about you. I hate it.”
“Kook, we have so many photos and home videos,” you comfort him. “We can always go through them and try to remember. I think that’ll be fun, don’t you think?”
It would, he smiles to himself. Days and nights of being curled up on the couch, watching your younger selves and thinking of how neither of you would’ve imagined getting married and being this in love. Your future kids would ask how you two met and you could both show them those videos. He’d proudly say how you were crushing on him early on and you’d tease that he never really minded you. It’s all fun, though, and he can picture your future kids enjoying it, too, perhaps thinking it could be them on screen. He’s suddenly excited to find out who they’d take after.
“Honey? You okay?”
“Yeah, I just zoned out a bit but of course, that would be fun. We can make fun of each other while watching.”
You smile at the thought, knowing that reminiscing those days would be a shock to him. You wonder how much of your adoration for him was caught on camera, but even you are curious. Your siblings and Junghyun would tell you stories as you got older, and there were things that you’d either forgotten or didn’t know.
Sometimes you think you downplayed just how big of a crush you had on Jungkook when you were younger because it was unrequited - a silly thought now, given how he is with you. He used to not look your way but now, it seems as if he can’t take his eyes off you the way you can’t take your eyes off of him.
You both exit the restaurant and drive to your middle school. You introduce yourselves and are immediately allowed in. Classes have just ended so it’s a little busy with the students leaving, but the shrieks remind you of how things were during your time, and how different you and Jungkook remember your pre-teen days to be.
The difference is much more glaring once you’re in your high school not far away, especially as you look around the library that’s changed a lot over the years. But you remember your spot at the corner, where you and Yeri would study while Nari drew dresses and Minhyuk read comics.
“You know, I’ve probably only ever been here thrice,” Jungkook laughs, the place an unfamiliar spot for him. It’s also so quiet; it’s unnerving and probably why he never really came here.
“I’m not surprised,” you laugh. “But then again, I’ve only ever stepped foot on the field twice.”
“What? Did you not have PE class?”
“I did,” you say. “My parents had me spared from the physical stuff, so I just read up on sports and other things for my grade.”
“That’s so sad, babe,” he laments. “PE was like, the best. It was the only subject I liked.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” you exclaim. “But yeah, I got used to it. It’s different learning a sport by reading it but it was okay, I guess. My teacher would let me watch classes and varsity games sometimes.”
“Let me guess, you were watching me?” He smirks.
“Not always,” you playfully roll your eyes. “You weren’t the only good-looking guy in school, you know?”
“What! Who else was?”
“Secret,” you tease, sticking your tongue out and walking down the hallway.
You pass by the auditorium, another place you spent a lot of time in. Minhyuk used to play the violin and you’d watch his rehearsals with their music group here.
“Okay, tell me you’ve been here at least once to watch a club performance or something,” you say, turning to him.
“Uh, no?” He laughs. “All I remember from this is that we had an important game against a rival school on the field and all your friends were there except for you. Hyung watched it and I overheard him ask them where you were and Yeri said you were at the auditorium because there was some flute recital or something.” He rolls his eyes. “Why would that be more interesting than my soccer game?”
You laugh at his bitter expression. “You wouldn’t have cared, hun. And I’m pretty sure she said saxophone. That was Jaehyun’s instrument.”
“Who’s that? Why doesn’t he sound familiar?”
“Because he was a year older,” you respond as you walk past the seats. “He, uh, he invited me, said I was probably gonna watch the game but it didn’t hurt to try, and he was surprised that I said I’d watch him.”
“Were you… a thing?” He furrows his brows.
“Why would that matter,” you ask. “You were the one dating the class President and the gymnast and a lot of other girls.”
“Yeah but I never took them seriously,” he defends. “We just… you know.”
“Oh, I know,” you chuckle. “Talks of how good of a kisser you were and uh, other stuff spread like wildfire, Kook. It wasn’t exactly a secret.”
You're right, it really wasn’t. He was the rich popular jock that girls flocked to and he loved the attention, and that continued until university. But like he always said, it was all fun for him.
You… you were never the type to date for fun, so he knows that any guy you were with could’ve been the one, and yes, even Won-shik. Or Jongin. Maybe this Jaehyun dude.
It could’ve been Mingyu.
“So you and the guy, were you…?” He asks again.
“He courted me,” you say. “But I wasn’t sure about having a boyfriend at that time and he said he’d wait but I told him not to. We drifted once he graduated and that was it.”
“Okay.”
“Does that matter?” You wonder.
“Sometimes I think there could’ve been a version of this life where we weren’t married,” he starts. “Like, you could’ve been with someone else you loved and I probably would’ve been arranged with some other person but you and I would still see each other regularly because of our families and like… that’s just… a hard thought to have. If it wasn’t me with you right now.”
“Yes, Kook, it’s a hard thought but also impossible because I’m with someone I love and you’re with me right now,” you tell him. “And this is the only version of life I’ll have. Also, I think I have a pretty special connection with the universe so sometimes I think they were truly on my side. They kept me alive and well, they made me marry you, the man who never really took anyone seriously and now look at you!”
“Yeah, look at me, head over heels in love with the woman he was bitter about and barely minded,” he laughs dryly. “But I think they were on my side, too.”
You smile at the thought, knowing that Jungkook may not really be able to let go of the guilt from years ago but he could at least look at things this way - at the end of it, you get to be together happily, making new memories in the places you’ve known all your lives, and out to make even more.
You continue your walk around the school. You pass by the faculty to greet your teachers from over 10 years ago, who fawn over both of you. They say how surprised they were that you’d ended up together, but don’t doubt that now seeing how happy you both look.
Walking down the hallway, you gush over the shelf with championship trophies that Jungkoook had won with the soccer team. And then finally, you sit on the bleachers that overlook the soccer field, Jungkook’s stage during your years in school.
“It does look pretty with the sun casting a shadow over it,” you hum, seeing that it’s late in the afternoon. “I can see why you loved being here, Kook. And seeing you play now, you truly belong on the field.”
“Those years were fun,” he reminisces. “I loved the adrenaline rush, the thrill, the cheers… I loved the attention, really. It made me feel free. I think I kept chasing that high outside of it. And it got me into a lot of trouble.”
“Well, all that trouble landed you right here with me,” you comfort him. “I think it’s not all that bad.”
“Not at all,” he agrees. “But I still experience all that, you know? The thrill, the cheers, the attention… I married someone who gives all those to me. My younger years can’t really compare.”
Your cheeks reach your eyes as you giddily smile. “My heart is fluttering, Mr. Jeon,” you giggle. “Too bad we’re in school so I can’t kiss you right now.”
“Actually, I know a spot…”
“Kook!” You squeal, not wanting to know where he’d made out with the girls back then, but he laughs along to tease and says that you both could always drive back home and do all the kissing you want.
Tempting, you think, but all the walking has made you hungry and he promised you’d have milmyeon for dinner and then pass by the kiosk where Mrs. Na always bought you your favorite hotteok.
You do all that, and just like what Jungkook said, you go back home and do all the kissing you want.
The kissing obviously escalated to so much more. Jungkook let you ride his face and you let him fuck your mouth. The lake house is so conducive to lovemaking, you told him as you started to doze off, and he assured you that all this wouldn’t end here. There’s lots to make up for, but also, making up with you makes him feel like a new man and a better lover, and he wants to be able to show you all that.
He doesn’t mess around though, as you wake up the next morning flushed against his firm chest that you can’t help but kiss all over, and to get you going for morning sex by the lake, he wildly eats you out then takes you from behind while you look at the view outside.
You at least eat your breakfast that you had made on the veranda and then have enough energy to walk down the trail by the lake to see the forest and the birds. Jungkook lays down a mat and you both enjoy fruits and desserts before heading out for a late lunch of pork rice soup that you’ve dearly missed.
You drive around your part of the city, passing by spots and beaches you used to frequent, and it’s as if you could hear the shrieks and laughter from your younger days, sounds you joined in on every once in a while. But much of it was Jungkook’s, and you smile at the thought; he was already making your heart flutter then, and you don’t think that’s ever gonna stop.
He stops by a familiar park, and it takes a while before it registers that this is the playground that both of you used to go to a lot. It’s the midway point of your grandparents’ estates so all you Jeon and Kim kids would play here before heading to either of those places.
It’s also where he asked you to play when you were 4 years old. And where you told him no.
“Are we here to reenact that moment I broke your heart?” You tease, walking next to him as you bask in the sight of your childhood. You may not have played in the playground but you did have your dolls with you.
“Sort of,” he chuckles. “With a good ending this time though. I kind of wanna have both memories ingrained in my mind so they could remind me of how far we’ve come.”
“Sounds good,” you smile, sitting on the bench that you think is the one you would always sit on.
It’s been over 20 years and a lot about it has changed, but you suppose it’s a good guess.
“It’s amazing the memories that we retain, isn’t it?” You wonder out loud. “I remember that day, too. We were just 4 years old, and, well, it’s one of the few that I remember.”
“I know, right? I don’t remember much from that age apart from that moment, actually,” he says. “It stuck with me, maybe because it really affected me. Who knows? Maybe I was crushing on you before that so I chose to forget everything else after you rejected me,” he laughs. “Selective memory and shit.”
“Could be,” you laugh along. “But can you imagine how it must’ve been like for our families seeing us grow up and grow apart? It must’ve sucked.”
“I’m sure it did,” he hums, knowing how much your families wanted this union. “Perhaps the universe was on their side, too.”
You smile at the thought. Coming back to the places with traces of Jungkook as the kid you admired from a short distance makes you sentimental because he’s right, there could’ve been another version of life where you didn’t end up together. Who knows if your fondness for him would’ve faded if you’d married someone else? But you’d still see each other regardless, and the feeling could be haunting you.
You wonder if you weren’t sick, or was just careless enough to have played with him even if you weren’t allowed to - how different would your friendship have been like growing up? Would you be closer? Would he have been as reckless or less of the playboy he was? Would you have been more daring just to keep up with him? Would you have both tried to date? What if it didn’t work out, being as you were both still young then?
But as you look up at Jungkook who’s now standing before you, his hand in his pocket before he reaches it out the way he did over 20 years ago, you think that maybe all those had to happen so you could have this.
Maybe the distance meant that you’d both grow and make mistakes individually. Maybe having different sets of friends and hobbies meant you’d both appreciate yourselves for who you are so you could appreciate the other just as much. Maybe his colorful relationship record and your neutral one meant being able to balance excitement and security. Maybe all the heartbreaks along the way meant you’d learn how to ride through them so you could love each other even more.
Because as you take his hand and stand up to meet him for a kiss, you don’t think you could ever love him more than you do right now. You feel it all over your body that you think it’s all it knows to do at this point.
“Four-year old Jungkook is probably bursting at the seams right now,” he hums as he kisses you again, his arms around your waist and his forehead against yours.
“And four-year old me is probably doing the same,” you smile. “But this 29-year old version of me is so content right now, Kook. She can’t get any happier.”
She can, are the words that echo in Jungkook’s mind. Being here makes him realize how else you - both of you - can be happier. But he keeps the thought to himself and chooses to agree with you for now.
“That’s great, babe. This version of me feels the same.”
The stack of Polaroid photos from the past 3 days has gotten taller. There’s so much from the beach, your grandparents’ house, your schools, the trail, and of course, the playground. Jungkook holds up the ones from earlier where you’re sitting on the swing and the one where you both attempted to slide together but got stuck.
Your smiles are as wide as they could get, and seeing them now tugs at his heart. You seem like you can’t get any happier, but he also knows there’s something more that you wish for.
And it isn’t just about giving it to you; he wants to make it with you, because seeing you skip around earlier and play in the seesaw with him and laugh your sweet, tender laugh - he knows that there are so many more ways he can show you he loves you, and the sight of you happy and free and content is something he wants to see everyday of his life.
“What you looking at, hun?” You ask, as you wrap your arms around his crouched form on the edge of the bed, your chin sliding in the crook of his neck and peeking at what he’s holding.
“All our photos,” he says. “We ended up taking so many.”
“Hmm, more to put in our photo album then,” you hum, kissing his cheek before kissing his shoulder, and then his back, given that he’s too sexy not to have your lips mapping them out.
You make it to the line down his back, kissing his tailbone before lying in bed. “I’m tired,” you yawn. “Let’s sleep, hun. We have a day of travel tomorrow.”
Jungkook keeps the photos in a pouch and turns off the light before he lays next to you, his arm stretching out so you have space to rest your head on his chest.
You make yourself comfortable right away, close to drifting to sleep with his post-shower natural scent and his smooth skin.
“Baby?”
“Hmm?”
“I was just thinking…” he starts. “We kinda went down memory lane, you know? And sorted things out like we said we would. We got through a fight that had us loving each other even more and I feel like I’ve learned and matured after all that and I… I think I’m ready.”
He turns to you, wanting to see your face, and your curious eyes meet his certain ones.
“I want to have a family with you,” he says. “And I mean, really want it, like, I want us to seriously try now.”
“Kook…” you mumble, a little surprised but beaming with joy just the same.
“I’ll admit at the start, a part of me just wanted to get ahead with it because I knew it would make you happy and that would make me happy,” he admits. “But now, I just… I want that for us because we love each other so fucking much and I don’t know how else we could show or express it. And that’s nice, isn’t it? It’s overflowing and the only other person who should receive that love other than you or me is someone we both created.”
You’re frozen, constantly blinking at him in disbelief until he nudges your nose with his.
“Hey, say something,” he whispers.
“I… ” you quiver. “I’m… Kook, that’s amazing. You… We… we’re ready. We have so much to give and we, I…”
A tear falls down your cheek.
You and Jungkook had agreed to let life just happen. You make love all the time anyway and it used to comfort you that there could at least be a chance you’d get pregnant with the frequency you do it. But conceiving a baby isn’t that easy. You may have sex a lot but it doesn’t mean you always do it at the right time. Both your stress levels have been quite high, too, and that’s been a factor on why it hasn’t happened yet.
There were a few times when you thought your period being late meant you could be pregnant, only to have it happen right before you told Jungkook. You won’t deny it disappointed you a little.
But now, with him saying he wants to actively try, it’s making you excited and nervous but incredibly happy. You’ve wanted this for a while, and you realize now with what you and Jungkook could handle and take on together, you want it even more. And he’s right there with you.
“Oh, baby,” he says, caressing your cheek. “I’m… I’m sorry it took a while for me. Wanting to let life surprise us feels like a cop out now.”
“Don’t be sorry, hun,” you sniff, sighing into his touch. “What matters now is that we both want this. And we’re… we’re really gonna try.”
“Yeah,” he smiles. “We can go see your doctors tomorrow or the day after to consult. Whatever they say, we’ll follow. If we have to have even more sex, then that’s great.”
You laugh at his words. “I think we have enough of it.”
“We never know.”
You kiss him. Deeply. You kiss him so hard, it’s the only way to express how happy you are because words fail you. You kiss him so long that you climb on top of him, wanting to feel him wrap himself around you, touch you, cradle you, show you how much he loves you.
“Oh, so we’re starting now?” He teases once you pull away.
You just hover over him, your eyes boring into his sparkling ones, and you giggle as you boop his nose.
“I’m actually not ovulating but it doesn’t matter,” you say, pressing your clothed pussy against his cock. “I just… I just want to feel you right now. Your wanting to have a family is such a turn on, I’m scaring myself.”
He smirks at your honesty but he loves it. Your being turned on by it is also turning him on.
But he lets you do what you want first, as you kiss down his torso then pull down his boxer briefs to lick his hardening cock before you take him all in.
“I thought you were tired, babe,” he huffs, feeling the tension build as you take him so desperately, his thighs straining from the pleasure.
“Not anymore,” you say, gagging with how big he is. You turn to look at him with his cock in your hand now, meeting the smirk he has on his face. “I think I can do this all night.”
“Fuck, baby,” he grunts. “You gotta play fair. I need my time to do you, too.”
Waking up the next morning feels different. With Jungkook flushed against your back and his arm around your middle, you think that hopefully in a few months, he’d be lovingly caressing you there when there’s a tiny human growing inside you.
It’s a nice thought, but one you can wait for a while to happen. Although last night’s sex was pretty intense, you’re not fertile and there wouldn’t be any surprises soon, but it was still really good. Your emotions had overtaken you and you went with what your heart and body were saying, and you’re now left with sore limbs. But you don’t mind. You’re satisfied beyond belief. And while this may be your last day of your time here, you’ll be going back to your normal life with much more excitement this time. And you know your husband feels the same.
He wakes up shortly after, and you both pass up on breakfast to just sleep in and cuddle, knowing there’ll be less of this again, so you savor being naked in each other's arms, giggling and kissing.
You finally make it out of bed and pack up, ready to head to his grandparents’ as you both promised. It goes by smoothly, with them fawning over you as always, and you and Jungkook spend some time right after going around the estate and recalling memories again.
He takes you to his room, which is where he stayed when he was much younger. It’s still a little boy’s bedroom with all the toys organized and the clothes stored neatly. He opens his closet and takes a chest from the floor, unlocking it to reveal sets of baby clothes in mint condition.
There’s a swaddling cloth and a blanket, a crocheted bunny and a baby giraffe. There are onesies and beanies and tiny shoes and mittens.
Jungkook touches them lightly, excitedly thinking about your future baby wearing them.
“I have a chest like this, too,” you say, smiling up at him. “It’s at my grandparents’. Do you think we could pass by for it? I think it would be nice to have our tiny one wear our clothes, don’t you think?”
“It would be,” he smiles.
You both casually tell your grandparents that you wanted to bring the chests back with you to Seoul “just in case” because you’re sentimental, not wanting to make too big of a deal out of deciding to finally and seriously try getting pregnant this time. You don’t miss their glassy eyes and proud faces, though, and you think of the joy they must be feeling. You hope all goes well and that they’d get to spend as much time with their future grandchildren as possible. It was their dream, after all, and you know it means just as much to them.
With your treasure troves in the trunk and your hand in Jungkook’s, you both drive away, hoping that not too long from now, a little one will be joining you in your weekend getaways and short breaks and vacations. You could only hope they’ll love you with all their heart as much as you know you’ll love them with all of yours.
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#jungkook fic#jungkook fluff#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x you#husband jungkook#bts jungkook#jungkook series#please love me
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What You Won’t Ever Find (Kidd x Reader)
Part Nine
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Content Warning: nsfw, modern!AU, suggestive language, unhealthy attachment, angst
Content Description: gn!reader meets Kidd in a bar and their relationship develops from there ♡
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The daisy that Kidd had welded was taunting you from its place on your nightstand. He was right that it’d never wilt but even if it could, the two of you likely wouldn’t last long enough to watch it happen. The cold metal material that comprised its stem and petals was ironic, a sardonic mimicry of what was beginning to feel like a fabricated relationship. You didn’t know what to think anymore, you no longer held distain for Hip’s advice though it could serve you no favors in your current situation. The writing had been on the wall from the night you’d met, the proposition of causal fun should’ve been a glaring red flag but you’d ignored it the same as you had many others.
You’d learned that Kidd was the type of person who could become enamored with someone and play with the idea of a relationship, but he seemed to lack the skills necessary to maintain the relationship once it was started. You assumed that years upon years of hardship and loss had significantly damaged his attachment style, the revelation doing little to help you work through the heavy sense of loss that clouded your psyche. Every day that passed was so dull, you couldn’t wait for them to end once they’d begun. You weren’t even sure how many days it had actually been and you honestly didn’t want to, it didn’t matter anyway.
Your phone was essentially out of commission on account of all the calls and texts that you didn’t have the strength to address. You could only read a few of them every once in a while, his words far too painful to handle. It was obvious when he was drunk or exhausted as what were once carefully selected words would turn into a barrage of mismatched phrases and letters. Killer had even reached out to check on you, he’d always been so kind. Sometimes you didn’t understand how they’d remained friends for so long, Kidd seemed to always be on some level of extreme. You wished you had whatever trait Killer possessed to make Kidd care for him so much, maybe then something meaningful could tether the two of you together.
You flinched upon hearing a car door shut just outside your home, a few short knocks on the door causing your heart to race. You did your best to peer out the window to identify the visitor but the angle made it nearly impossible. As you cracked the door open just a few inches, confusion knitted through your brows. Killer towered over you with his hands tucked in his jeans, alone and carefully considering what he wanted to say.
“I’m sure you’re upset and you don’t have to say anything, just please hear me out.”, he bargained with you.
“Alright.”, you replied after a moment, trusting Killer’s discretion.
“It really wasn’t what it looked like. He royally fucked up, but he did not sleep with her. I don’t know exactly how she ended up in the car with him, but she slept on the couch and he wasn’t interested in her at all. I can promise you that’d he would’ve told me if anything happened and if it had, I wouldn’t be here right now.”, Killer explained, “He woke up the next morning not even really knowing who in the hell she was. He was going to take her home and then come here to talk to you, but you got to the house before he had the chance.”
“He’s had more than once chance at this point.”, you noted, not exactly feeling like the situation was so easily rectified, “Is this something that he always does? If I believe you and go back to him, how long will it be before we’re right back here again?”
“I can’t say that this won’t ever happen again because I don’t know if it will or not. I hope it doesn’t, but Kidd is very temperamental sometimes and you know that just as well as I do.”, Killer replied with a very valid point, “I’ll be honest, I’ve only ever seen him this torn up one other time before… I wouldn’t have wasted your time or mine if I didn’t think it was worth it. He hasn’t slept and he won’t eat, all he does is fuck with shit in the garage all night, works, comes home, and then does it all over again.”
“I don’t know… This has been really hard, Killer. Things will be great for a little while and I’ll think we’re getting somewhere only for him to go off on me or leave me for someone else.”, you let your feelings be known, “I know that I love him, but I also know that I can’t keep doing this.”
“I know and I agree with you entirely, this can’t keep going on.”, Killer validated your understandably difficult position, “I’m asking you, as a friend, please give him a chance to explain himself. This isn’t something that I can fix or help him through, he’s spiraling without you.”
Killer watched you with hopeful eyes as you gave the situation some very intensive thought. To care is a curse and love is a cruel emotion. It’s manipulative, draining, and blinding above all else. It’s so beautiful when it blooms, but it is always met by the most gruesome of ends. Whether or not you still cared for Kidd wasn’t to be questioned, he meant the world to you and that would never change. That sentiment had come back to bite you so many times before but realistically, what more damage could be done?
“I’ll come see him, but I need you to be there.”, you relented as Killer let out a great sigh of relief.
“I’ll be right beside you, whatever you need.”, he patted your shoulder in an attempt to reassure you.
Killer held true to his word, staying at your side and offering as much support as he could in your respective circumstances. He waited patiently on the couch as you dressed yourself and kindly lead the way back to their shared home for you to follow. Kidd hadn’t noticed the two of you pull up and certainly couldn’t hear the slamming of car doors on account of the very heavy music that was blaring from the garage. The door was raised just enough for him to be able to walk out if needed, his bare and sweat-soaked back facing you as he leant over the engine bay of a worn vehicle. You stood just outside the door beside Killer, you couldn’t bring yourself to approach him and instead waited for him to notice the two of you.
After a few minutes had passed, he stood to retrieve a tool from his workbench. As he turned to resume tinkering, he caught sight of you and froze. His expression was facetious, not at all amusing but irrevocably indicative of how much he’d been struggling with all of this. There was no signature eyeliner or lipstick to speak of, only sunken eyes and dark circles in their wake. Trying to recollect himself, Kidd moved to turn the music down while Killer made his way to sit on their porch. He was close enough to intervene if things went sideways, but far enough to allow for some privacy.
You didn’t know what to say and it seemed like he didn’t either, the silence between the two of you growing rather awkward. Kidd looked totally defeated and while he was in the wrong, it wasn’t something you particularly enjoyed seeing. It felt like you could say anything and ruin him permanently if you really wanted to. Just as you felt doubt begin to chip away at your presence in the moment, Kidd extended his arms to you and gave you an optimistic look. Nearly all of your reservations faltered as you walked into his embrace, immediately being lifted off your feet and held as close to him as possible. His dampened forehead pressed against your neck as he folded himself around you. His grip was tight and as though he’d loose something precious if he ever let go.
“(Y/N), I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am.”, he spoke against your skin, “I promise you that nothing happened. I wanted to get the fuck out of there and when she asked me for a ride home, I guess I brought her here. She slept on the couch and I was about to actually take her home when you pulled in.”
“That’s only one small part of the much bigger problem, Kidd. You left me alone at a party full of people that I don’t really know and then you brought someone else home, only for me to find the two of you together the next day.”, you kept your voice low as to not escalate the situation, still stern enough to convey your point, “That was one of the worst feelings I’ve had in my entire life. I felt like I meant nothing to you or anyone else, that I was just something to throwaway and be forgotten.”
“It’s not like that and it’s never fuckin’ been like that.”, he said seriously, lifting his head to face you, “Please, let me make this up to you…”
This was something different, something that you hadn’t seen from him before. You hated everything about this, the way he’d make you feel, the way he’d sunken into himself, and the way that everything in your life seemed to revolve around him. Of course you wanted to pick up where you’d left off, but it went beyond that simple concept. Something within you knew that if this ended, there would never be another Kidd. In fact you’d never have the opportunity to be truly happy again, you’d only be mourning what should have been. It was unhealthy and that reality had crossed your mind, but in this moment in his arms, you didn’t care.
“I’ll give you anything you want, (Y/N)… You tell me what you need and I’ll make it happen.”, he pleaded with you while resting his forehead against your own, his tired eyes glazed and searching for any hint of clarity.
That always seemed to be his answer and you weren’t sure if he really meant it or if he just wished it were the truth. You wanted to believe that he had the ability to commit himself to an established relationship, but even that was a far cry from your current predicament. You undoubtedly wanted Kidd and it was looking like this would be the price you’d have to pay if you wished to stay with him. Perhaps this was the moment of unraveling, a realization of something you’d been missing all along.
“This can’t happen again.”, you repeated the same condition you’d given him before, praying that you’d never have to say it again, “I know this is hard on you, but you have to stop being so self destructive. People care about you and whether you intend for them to or not, your actions have very real consequences.”
“You’re right…”, he trailed off, seemingly taking in what you’d said, “I don’t want to lose you, (Y/N).”
“You won’t. We have some things we need to work on, but you won’t. I’m right here.”, you reassured him, lifting your head to kiss his forehead, “How about you go shower and then we’ll eat something? That’ll be a good start.”
He took your chin in his hand and placed a very passionate kiss to your lips. The gesture made up for the things he didn’t know how to say, also working to fluster Killer as he watched the two of you. He’d certainly tease Kidd for it later, happy that the two of you actually managed to reconcile with one another. You followed the two of them into the house and took some time to appreciate the comfort of Kidd’s bedroom. It was a sick sense of consolation, the familiarity of something you held so dear that was on the edge of being ripped from your hands at any given moment.
Part Ten
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A/N: Thank you for reading! All characters presented in the story have been caricatured to fit the desired plot devices. Some interactions and situations may read out of character, this is only to progress the story and does not reflect my view of their canon personalities.
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#kid pirates#one piece#one piece fanfiction#anime#one piece x reader#eustass kid#eustass kid x reader#captain kid x reader#killer one piece#massacre soldier killer#what you won’t ever find#captain kid#eustass captain kid
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knight in a navy blue boiler suit, ii | eddie munson x reader
part 1 | part 2
summary Eddie fixes your car and sweeps you away in the process. [3.4k]
contains pure fucking fluff. that's literally it. (use of y/n, fem!reader, mechanic!eddie)
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It’s Thursday evening when the phone rings.
You’re alone, again. Since you graduated, the frequency of your parents’ jaunts across the United States have increased, so you’re often left behind to watch the house.
You’re spread lazily over the couch, legs hanging off the arm, book held up over your head. It’s a cheap fantasy romance you found in your mom’s room, about a knight and a princess. It’s alright so far.
The shrill ring makes you jump. You swing your legs around and stand a little too quick so the blood rushes from your head and you go woozy for a second and move too quickly across the room to the kitchen where the phone hangs on the wall. You seize the receiver so enthusiastically you damn near knock yourself out with it.
“Hello?”
“Hey, y/n?” His voice is low, tired again, and all crackly down the line. You feel silly for having missed it.
“Yeah, hi, Eddie.”
“Hey,” he says again, his smile very obvious in the way the word forms in his mouth. He hopes you can’t hear it.
You can.
There’s a beat of funny silence while you bite your lip and bounce on your tiptoes, willing the nerves away through movement.
“So, uh, you wanna bring your car round tomorrow?” He sounds nervous, you think. “Got the day off.”
“Oh, I don’t wanna waste your day o-“
“I offered, y/n,” he laughs. “You just gotta bring ‘er over.” There’s that smile again. You wonder if you’re making it up in your head or if he really is grinning this hard on the other end.
“Yeah, okay,” you say softly. “Whereabouts are ya?”
“Forest Hills, you know it?”
“Yeah, sure, ‘s’only a couple minutes from me.”
“Sweet, I’ll see you tomorrow mornin’, yeah?”
“See you, Eddie.”
This time it’s you who cuts the line, suddenly too giddy, overcome with restlessness because you’ve been thinking about seeing him again since he saw you off on Monday evening, which makes you feel a little ridiculous considering you’ve spoken to him for all of five minutes in total.
There’s just something about him that’s lingered, tainting every thought like a stubborn smoke that won’t wash out. You think about the rings, silver and sparkling under the streetlamp. You think about his fingers, the way they gripped the door of your car and flexed when he’d called you sugar. You think about his voice crackling down the phone and the midwestern lilt he gives your name.
It's the first time you’ve felt like this since high school. Crushes are few and far between when you’re in your early twenties and stuck in your hometown, so you’re far from upset when you go to bed filled with butterflies and trying hopelessly to think of anything else.
-
Forest Hills really is only about three minutes from your door. You live in a suburb that sits wedged between the trailer park and the big fancy houses, like the one your friends Nancy and Steve live in. Your own home is somewhere in the middle, modest but good enough for you and your parents. It’s attached to another house on one side, wherein you spent a lot of your teenage years hanging out with your neighbour Robin.
It's another cold morning and it takes you three miserable goes to get your car to start. You sit in the driver’s seat with your scarf round the bottom half of your face and will it into action, until it you finally feel that familiar rumble and it ticks into life.
You drive it slowly, to prevent any potential crises, around the bend and down the dirt track into the park. You realise you’re not sure which trailer is Eddie’s, but you don’t worry long because you turn a corner to find him perched on the step outside of a particularly rough looking one. He’s not in his lovely blue boiler suit, obviously, because it’s his uniform, but you still kind of wish he was wearing it anyway. Instead, he’s in untidy jeans and sneakers, and he’s got a thick brown working jacket buttoned all the way to the top.
He lifts his head to look when he hears a car coming down the track. You swear that, even from your distance, you see him smile when he recognises it.
He pushes himself up to standing as you put the car in park. He hops down the last two steps and before you can open the door yourself, he’s swung it round and is holding a hand out like some kind of valet.
“Morning, sugar,” he drawls, and there’s that pretty midwestern lilt again. You wonder why he sounds like he’s from somewhere other than Hawkins.
Rolling your eyes playfully, you return a, “morning, Eddie,” and take his hand. He pulls you out of the seat so quickly it steals the air from your lungs, and he laughs softly at the wide-eyed look on your face.
He’s more confident in person than over the phone. Maybe it’s because you can see his face, but you swear he makes you far more nervous like this. It might be that you feel his gaze on you, can see how his eyes linger on your face and drag slowly, hesitantly, down your body; might be the way his hands feel like flames on your skin; might be the way you become tongue-tied when he’s looking at you. You like how it feels, though.
He slams the door shut and the sound breaks you out of your trance. He spins to look at you and says, “gonna take a look at her engine, you can hang out in there if you want.” He nods to the trailer, and you stuff your cold hands in your pocket and say, “yeah, sure.”
You follow him happily up the stairs and into the trailer when he shoves the door open. It’s a humble room, both a living room and a little kitchen in the single space, and along the top of the wall there are hundreds of baseball caps and souvenir mugs. There are pictures in the small spaces on the walls, of a small boy and an older man and one, you notice briefly, of the boy with what looks like his parents.
Eddie’s in the kitchen, where he says in a loud voice, “want anything to drink?”
“Uh, yeah, tea if you’ve got it,” you respond.
“Comin’ right up,” he says, quieter this time.
You toe off your sneakers and hang your coat and scarf on an empty hook by the door. By the time you’re on the couch he’s coming over to you with a steaming mug.
“I’m gonna go take a look, make yourself at home,” he tells you as he puts it on the table by the wall. You look up at him and smile.
“Thanks, Eddie.”
He’s outside for maybe twenty minutes. You switch on the television and curl up, landing on a channel playing a crappy Halloween movie you watched as a kid, so you’re content to let your eyes dance around the room. You take in the pictures and the armchair on your left. There’s one man who appears in a number of the photographs, older than your own parents but clearly an important person in Eddie’s life. And there’s Eddie himself of course – at least, you assume the kid in the photos is him – with his wild curly hair that disappears into a buzzcut when he gets to his early teens. You stand to follow them around the room and find that some of them match the caps along the wall, which each have a different city or baseball team on them. There’s a cap for Yosemite and a photograph of the two of them there; another for San Fracisco and a photo of them at the Golden Gate Bridge. Most of the pictures of them are in California. You wonder why.
The door opens behind you and you spin, feeling like a kid who’s been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. You feel yourself flush as Eddie comes in, shrugging his jacket off. He looks at you, at where you’re standing stiff and awkward in the corner of the room, and his brows quirk.
“What you getting’ up to in here?” he asks, no trace of a scolding tone.
You bounce on tiptoes a moment before answering.
“Sorry, I, uh… I was lookin’ at the pictures.”
He’s still for a beat and you expect him to be weirded out, concerned that you, a stranger, were so interested in his family photos, but you smile back at him when he beams at you.
“Wayne has lots of traditions, as you can see.” He gestures to the hats and the shelf of mugs, and you follow his hand to look up at them.
“You guys’ve been all over,” you say, more to yourself than to him.
“Mm-hmm,” Eddie responds. His inflection tells you there’s more to it than he wants to say, so you don’t push.
“Your car should be good,” he says instead. “Somethin’ up in the engine but it seems alright now.”
He’s walking over to you. Now his jacket’s off you can see he’s wearing a black sweatshirt and there’s one of those tattoos peaking up over the neckline.
“Oh, thanks,” you murmur.
He reaches you swiftly and holds your shoulders with both of his hands to move you around. He bends slight behind you, so his face is right by your ear, and points to one of the pictures.
It’s black and white and fuzzy, hung above the TV in a deep wooden frame. It’s of Eddie, as a teenager, and Wayne, stood together outside a diner.
“This one,” he says, and his voice makes you shiver. It’s low, gruff, and right in your ear. “- is in Chicago. Wayne’s mate has a diner there, best burger I’ve ever had.” You can’t see his face, it’s just out of your peripheral, but you can hear the creeping smile in his voice.
“How old were you?” you ask, voice low too.
“Sixteen,” he says with a huffed-out laugh that you feel in hot waves down the side of your face. “And this one, this one’s my favourite.”
He moves his pointer finger to one nearer the door. It’s in colour, of a very young Eddie in a silly Dracula costume for what must be Halloween. Wayne’s stood behind him, twice his height, and it looks like someone’s stuck an axe in his head.
“I was eight here,” he says. “My first Halloween.”
You turn to look at him when he says this.
“Your first?”
His face is inches from yours, if that. So close your eyes can barely focus.
“Yup, my first.”
Again, you don’t press for more information. You can tell there’s a lot going on in his head, and a lot that has happened in his life. You also know that sometimes, you can be a little naïve to other people’s family problems because you come from one that has been fairly smooth-sailing thus far. So you divert the conversation.
“What’re you doing this year?”
He looks you in the eye and the contact raises the hairs on your arms. His eyes are deep and wide and brown and-
“What?”
His face has morphed into a confused expression, but his voice is still low and he’s still so close.
“What are you doing for Halloween this year?” you ask again.
“Uh, nothing, I guess.” You can feel his breath on your cheeks. His hand is still on your shoulder. His fingers are creeping upwards, settling at the base of your neck. He squeezes. You think you might pass out.
“Wanna come to a party?”
You have no clue where this confidence has come from. He makes you nervous, and he’s a complete stranger, but part of you never wants to leave this room if it means you get to stay here with him. His stupidly gorgeous face is looking at you all warm and for a moment you swear he’s about to laugh at you.
“You’re inviting me to a Halloween party?” He stands back a little and drops his hand from you, which only makes you more certain he thinks you’re incredibly weird.
“Uh, yeah, but you don’t have to say yes. In fact, I shouldn’t have asked, I’m sorry, I-“
“I’d love to,” he says. You bring your eyes back to him to find him smiling at you again. Your knees buckle ever so slightly.
So you smile back, again, and bounce on the balls of your feet, again.
It’s very warm in the room. Maybe it’s the space heater; maybe it’s your proximity to Eddie.
He’s not as close as he was but he’s still close enough that you have to look up slightly to see him properly, and you can smell his aftershave and the underlying twang of pot.
“Sweet,” you say in a whisper. “And thanks for fixing my car.”
“No worries, sugar,” he says through a smile. “Just don’t take it to John’s again if it breaks, okay?” His hand is back on your shoulder. “They’re assholes-“ It’s trailing down your arm, tracing the seam of your sweater. “- who don’t know a pretty girl when they see one.” His fingers are dancing around your wrist, nails toying with the loose hairband that lives there. “They’re too mean for you.”
You are sick of this tension, sick of the slow-burn touches, so you lift your arm to find his fingers with your own. You lace them together and look down at where they hang between you.
He pulls them up and, while still gripping your hands, grazes his knuckles over your cheek. You’re flushed to high hell, burning up under his touch, hoping he doesn’t find it strange.
“What do I owe you?” you ask, trying desperately to ignore how your eyes can’t focus on his, how they keep moving down to his lips.
“Oh,” he sings. “Nothin’, unless you wanna give me a kiss.”
You bounce on your toes and lift yourself up to close the gap. As you do he lets go of your hand and plants his own on the side of your face, the other finding a home on your waist, while you bring your arms up to find purchase in the fabric on his back.
Eddie tastes like pot and smoke. There’s mint, too, and you’re sure there’s a hint of cherry – chapstick? – but whatever this concoction is, it’s intoxicating. You can’t get enough, preferring it to oxygen, lips harsh against his. He’s soft and warm and inviting and pulling you in like you’re slipping away.
The kiss is over quickly, but as you lower yourself back to standing he bends to follow you, pecking swift, sweet kisses around your mouth and another on your lips, which you keen into without warning. His hand on your waist snakes around your back and pulls you in so he can keep kissing you, before you push at his chest softly to take a breath.
“Eddie, seriously, I have to pay you, I-“
He cuts you off with more kisses and takes your open mouth as an opportunity to move his tongue against yours. You don’t protest, letting yourself enjoy being wrapped up in him for a while.
When he pulls back, he says, “I’m serious, you don’t owe me anything.”
“But-“
“Nuh-uh,” he coos, hand over your mouth. Your eyes go wide and when you whimper involuntarily, he gives you a look you can’t decipher.
“So,” he growls, bringing his face even closer and keeping his hand firm over you, but his honeyed smile gives him away. “You gonna stop asking me to let you pay?”
You nod enthusiastically under him, and he releases his hand only to find yours with it and lace your fingers together.
Suddenly he’s coy, all shy and quiet.
“I’ll give you a call, yeah?”
You only hum in response, so he pulls you towards the door. You let go of him to put your sneakers back on and grab your jacket and scarf, and as he jerks open the door, you lift yourself to kiss him on the cheek.
“Thank you, Eddie.”
“No worries, sugar.”
You leave him stood in the doorway, where he watches you get into your car and wave at him from behind the wheel. He waves back, a little dorky, and it makes you giggle.
-
“Hey, sugar.”
Eddie’s at your front door. He had called you the evening after you’d left his, and then every evening after that too. Steve’s Halloween party was still a plan he was willing to commit to, which set off an addictive fluttering inside your chest, and so now here he is. You won't yet admit to him how desperately you missed him, how badly you wanted to see him, and you don't know that he feels exactly the same.
“Nice cape,” you say, grinning.
He’s got a cheap vampire cape on, tied around the collar of his white shirt, and a pair of smart trousers that look exceptional on him. His hair’s tied back loosely again and he’s dripped red face paint around his mouth.
“Thanks. Nice hat.”
You’re dressed as a witch. You’ve got a silly black hat on and stripey tights, and you know you look good.
You chuckle and say, “thanks. Looks like we’re both as inventive as each other.”
You step aside and let him in.
“I’ll be one second, need to put my boots on and they take forever to tie up. You want anything?”
“I’m alright, I brought beers for the party though.”
“Steve will adore you,” you laugh as you ascend the stairs.
He drops the box by the door and follows you up, which you weren’t expecting but you don’t protest. You let him into your room and find your boots, sitting on the edge of your bed to put them on. Eddie noses around the room, reading posters and looking at the photos you have pinned on your wall.
“That’s them,” you tell him as he stares at a picture of you with Steve, Robin, Nancy and Jonathan.
“Who?”
“My friends. Steve, the one at the back, he’s the one having the party.”
“I recognise them from school,” he says, his voice wavering like he’s trying to remember something.
“You went to Hawkins High?”
“Indeed I did. For two extra years, in fact.”
“I never saw you,” you breathe.
You see him flush, a pink dapple creeping up his neck as he stands upright and scratches the back of his neck.
“What?” you ask.
“I, uh, I knew you. Well, I mean, I saw you around.”
“Really?”
“You’re hard to miss,” he laughs.
You’re not sure what he means. You’re not the most striking person, as far as you’re aware.
You decide you’ll come back to this later, not wanting to get into it before you leave, so you pull your laces tight and stand and twirl.
“What d’you think?”
Mid-spin, you feel his arms lock around your waist. You hadn’t heard him step closer to you, but here he is, keeping you still and looking down at you with those gorgeous brown eyes.
“You’re fucking gorgeous, y/n.”
You crumble in his arms, completely unable to respond. He kisses you on the cheek and then on your temple, across your brows and down your nose, before landing a firm and happy kiss on your lips. He tilts you back slightly, and if the bed weren’t right behind you, you could kick one of your feet up to complete the drama. But you just melt into him and kiss him back, and thank any deity who’ll listen for busting your engine and sending you into that ghastly car garage.
You push him back slightly and say, “we should get going,” but he won’t stop kissing you again.
“Seriously, Eddie,” you say through giggles as he pecks stars across your entire face. You wriggle out of his arms and, taking his hand, pull him firmly out of your bedroom and down the stairs. He grabs the crate of beer and leads you to his van, and when you get to the party you introduce him to the gang as your knight in shining armour, who saved you from the bad guys and fixed your steed, and promptly swept you off your feet.
-
#it's heeeere sorry it took so long!#eddie munson#eddie x reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie stranger things#stranger things season 4#eddie munson x y/n#stranger things 4#eddie fluff#eddie x you#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fanfic#eddie fic#eddie imagine
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Okay, I just finished watching Sex Education, and I will be honest, I was very… underwhelmed.
I know this show means a lot to a lot of people, and I can see why, and I liked parts of it, but to me it started out very strong and ended so disappointingly.
I was captivated by the struggles of some of the characters, by how their stories were weaved into one another, but that’s easier to do when you have a handful of characters. By season 3, there were so many characters, and the creators seemingly insisted on developing each individual storyline as profoundly as possible, but that just resulted in stories being presented and resolved in a rush, sometimes inexplicably, and it all felt just very clunky. I tried to suspend my disbelief of how time passed in this universe, how one storyline seems to be moving slower than another in the span of the same day, but it became so glaringly obvious that it came down to shoddy editing, and too many loose ends to trie to tie up.
By season 4, I didn’t have enough time to connect with anyone new, didn’t feel like any of the new characters was actually given enough time and space to unfold properly. It was just jam-packed with tropes and themes and difficult topics that deserved much better development. Like Cal’s dysphoria, or Viv’s abusive relationship, or Isaac’s and Aisha’s disabilities, or O’s asexuality, or even Jean and Joanna’s difficult relationship and Jean’s postpartum depression (in fact, I feel like Jean really got done dirty this season, because she was an interesting character the whole way, and she went through a lot, she almost died, she’s going through massive heartbreak, and those things are never addressed again except that one little moment, and Otis is THE ABSOLUTE WORST to her in this season…)
And that did not happen, of course, to the characters from the first two seasons, they got to be fully developed and nuanced and you get to examine their whole stories and they make sense. You get to see Aimee deal and come to terms and put behind her the sexual assault, you get to see Maeve get out and then have massive doubts about her talent and see her dreams interrupted once more by her mother’s overdose and her brother going down the same path; you get to see Eric come fully into his own skin with his sexuality and struggle with the fact that he might have to choose between that and his community; you get to see Adam go from bully to realizing his sexuality to realizing what has made him into a bully to trying to change and be honest to himself and others; you get to see why Ruby is the way she is but also that it’s all just a front and why it’s hard for her to not put up walls.
It felt like, by season 3, the creators were just ticking boxes: non-binary character, check; trans characters, check; characters with disabilities, check; boy with two mums inexplicably wanting to find their biological father, check… It felt a little like (and I swear this comparison hurts me the most) watching Glee.
(Remember Glee? Most people would say ‘well Glee walked so that Sex Education and Heartstopper and Young Royals, etc could run’… No, unfortunately it feels more like Glee took two steps and then stumbled horrible so that these other shows could run. And sadly, in my opinion, Sex Education didn’t fair much better…).
It made me sad to learn about how LGBTQIA+ activist and ace representative Yasmin Benoit collaborated with the Sex Education creators to create a character that was a well-rounded representation of the asexual community, but in the end they turned her into the season’s villain and for no good reason. I understand people’s frustration with that, especially Yasmin’s, because it felt like it could have been handled much better. And as an acespec person myself I would have been more upset about this too, were it not for the fact that everything else was so bad in comparison that O being turned into a villain felt like the least of this season’s problems.
Something else that bothered me was that, whilst Sex Education is a satire and a lot of the characters are caricatures (like Ruby being the popular glamorous bitch with her two cronies who do everything she says, and Aimee is the bimbo with the heart of gold, and Mr Groff is the stuffy narrow-minded professor, and Lily is the unashamed weird girl, etc), there is a fine line between caricature and cartoon, and some of the characters went too far. Like Hope in season 3 was too much of a cartoon villain, and Molloy being the admirable but former literature sensation who is brutally harsh with his students; and Beau going from flirty to abusive in .5 seconds; and Joanna being the over-the-top disaster person. There is no further substance to these people, they are just there to fulfill a role as a foe to one of the main characters, but the lack of realism makes them very underwhelming, and all the plots associated with them become predictable and boring…
And this might be a very unpopular opinion but… at first the whole Otis and Maeve thing, although clichéd, seemed like a nice idea, but the more time passed, and especially with the way that Otis became in the last season, by the end of it I really didn’t like it at all. It felt like Maeve deserved a lot better.
Otis was a somewhat interesting character in the beginning, and I could sympathize with him for all his flaws and the way that he tried to help people but ultimately couldn’t deal with his own shit. But it was so frustrating to see him making the same mistakes over and over, to the point where it affected his relationship with everyone important, from his mum to his best friend to his girlfriend.
Not that the show had to be perfect. No show is perfect, but it truly felt like the creators had a really good idea but didn’t figure out how to wrap it up, and promptly cornered themselves and then were fighting their way out of that corner…
My favorite things about the show, though, were:
-Anything with Eric (except maybe that whole thing about him and his bully becoming a thing, because that was disturbing, but I really really liked when Otis brought this up, and I really really hated when Eric got defensive about it, and I also reaaaaally hated when Eric got mad at Adam for not wanting to have anal sex, like he didn’t even want to talk about it, you’re better than that, Eric Effiong).
-Despite this, Adam and Eric not having a happy ending together was a breath of fresh air, because as much as they were cute together (I just reaaaaally wish Adam hadn’t been the former bully) they weren’t right for each other.
-Aimee’s whole journey from being with Adam to being with Steve, to ditching the Untouchables for a meaningful friendship with Maeve, to exploring what she wanted to do, to coming to terms with her assault, to discovering art as a way to express herself. She really is one of my favorite characters.
-Colin and Ms Sands were my absolute favorites too, and them coming back for one episode, and Colin playing With Or Without You at the funeral. And Ms Sands always wanting Maeve to fulfill her potential, and trying to help Adam and even coming to see him in the dog show.
-Any moment when Eric is just fabulous, especially wearing that kilt at the queer night club. Ncuti Gatwa is truly one of the most beautiful men in this world, and he just can’t help but sparkle. He is the sparkly one.
-And as I said before, Adam’s poem to Eric, absolutely broke my heart.
-I loved the set design and costume design on the show, it was so unexpected for everything to feel so old-fashioned, and I wonder if there’s a meaning to that. Also, Jean and Otis’s house is my absolute dream house. I do wonder however what happened to all the penis and vagina decoration.
-I really liked the variety of characters and how we got a diversity of storylines and tackled a lot of important topics, but I just wished they had done a better job at it.
That’s about it. This turned out way longer than I expected. But I’d been putting off watching this show for so long, despite how relevant it became, and was really disappointed that I didn’t like it as much, so I had to vent.
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Can you do the Evan’s dating a plus size girl? 🤭🫶🏻❤️
all that you are//the evan’s
pairings; fem reader with tate langdon, kit walker, kyle spencer, jimmy darling, and james patrick march
rating; pg13!
warnings; slight harsh language, body shaming, bullying
a/n: sorry to everyone that might not like what i’m gonna say, but i only write for the evan’s until they go up to season five with james. yes, i have watched the other seasons. i LOVE gallant and edward mott, but i won’t be pairing them with a female reader for obvious reasons. rory and jeff didn’t satisfy me all that much, and i still have mixed feelings on kai. yeah, i also like austin, but i don’t really know if i have that special little connection to his character yet. and no, am i fuck gonna write for jeffrey. that’s something that i’ll never feel comfortable doing.
Tate Langdon;
• Tate couldn’t give a shit about how you looked, he loved you for how you truly were. From the way you treated him, he already knew that you had a heart of gold.
• He loves how you guys have the exact same style. You enjoy wearing baggy sweaters and jeans, much like himself. And he adores how confident you are when it came to wearing what you wanted.
• If any school girls even dared to make fun of you, well.. i’m pretty sure we know what would happen..
Kit Walker;
• If Kit falls in love with someone, it’s not for the breathtaking looks they’ve been blessed with. No. It’s simply for the fact that they have such a kind heart and a beautiful soul. That’s what Kit is truly attracted to.
• He admires every last bit of you. Size isn’t important to him, not at all.
• Kit fell for you, because you’re just you. You’re not hiding behind some mask or going around with a full face of makeup, nor trying to fit in with everyone, you’re you. And that’s certainly enough for him to love and cherish.
Kyle Spencer/Franken Kyle;
• Truth be told, the little soul can’t even tell the difference between you and other girls. Right enough, not that he would even care in the slightest.
• He gets really upset when he overhears Madison saying her usual shitty comments about you. Though that soon turns into a fit of laughter when Queenie punishes her for it.
• Kyle doesn’t have the kind of feeling to care enough when it comes to you’re size. You treat him in a way he’s always wanted to be treated, and he doesn’t need anything more than that.
Jimmy Darling;
• Uh, I think we’re aware that Jimmy couldn’t give a shit if you were big or not. We’ve seen enough to prove that, trust me..
• Most of the freaks respect you and treat you no differently from the others, Jimmy makes sure it stays like that.
• If Elsa even has the nerve to ask if you could be part of the show seeing as she thought you’re figure could be quite the ‘entertainment’ for some people, Jimmy would hit breaking point.
James Patrick March;
• James isn’t one for body shaming. His mother raised him to always respect a woman, and that her size shouldn’t matter to him. If she treats him right, then by all means he should show her the love and respect she deserves.
• He isn’t fussed about you’re weight. Mr March still buys you the best of the best. Including the fanciest clothes, jewellery, perfume, everything he’d buy for the woman he loves most!
• When the time comes around for his monthly dinner with the Countess, he’s sure to fire back at her sneaky, vulgar comments. Even Miss Evers will defend you as much as she can.
“And should we be expecting you’re new partner, James? I suppose the word ‘little’ isn’t a way to describe her.”
“You mean my loyal, new partner? Ah, yes. And I suppose that word isn’t something that we should mention when you’re the topic of conversation, hm?”
Yeah, he ain’t up for her bullshit today folks.
#ahs fandom#american horror story#ahs hotel#evan peters#the evans x reader#james patrick march#tate x reader#tate ahs#tate langdon#james march#james march x reader#kit walker x reader#evan peters ahs#kyle spencer#plus size reader#kit walker#ahs fluff#kyle spencer x reader#ahs coven#ahs season 5#ahsfx#jimmy darling#jimmy darling x reader#freak show#ahs freakshow
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Can we get another snippet of Remus and Kingsley being wholesome? 🥺
Kingsley finds Remus pacing in the kitchen, his hair mussed, eyes still red. The tension is obvious in his body. He’s still dressed in his jeans and jumper, even though it’s half past eleven and the rest of the house is dark.
“Hello, brother-husband,” Kingsley says as he enters the kitchen. “You’re still awake?”
Remus startles at his voice, turning to look at him. “Kingsley. Hullo.”
Kingsley moves towards the kettle. Remus looks like shit, although Kingsley isn’t going to tell him that. He sets the kettle on the stove, murmurs a quiet confrigo to start it heating. “Sounds like you had a rough day,” Kingsley says off-handedly.
“You heard,” Remus sighs.
“Just a bit,” Kingsley says. “Want to tell me about it?”
Remus scrubs his hands over his face, and for a long moment, Kingsley thinks he'll say no. They've been brother-in-laws for almost three years, and in this weird relationship adjacent thing for one, but they've never really been each other's confidante. Not since that first day they met in the Hogwarts hospital wing.
“Sirius is mad at me,” Remus says, staring down at his fingernails like the answers of life are hidden behind a particularly painful hangnail.
Kingsley spoons tea leaves into the pot. He doesn't think that Sirius was actually angry, but he's not sure it is really his place to correct that. Instead, he says nothing and lets Remus have space to talk, if he wants it.
“He's right to be, I think. I've not been a very good alpha,” Remus says.
“Why do you think that?” Kinglsey asks. The kettle whistles, and Kingsley flicks his wand to pour the boiling water into the teapot with the leaves.
“Because it's true.” Remus threads the fingers of both hands into his hair, tugging at the roots. “I’m drowning in university, and I can barely keep up. I feel like I spend all of my time trying to manage these classes, and I'm not even seeing Sirius or James. I missed James’s last game, and I know he said it was alright, but I should have been there. And Sirius is probably over here all the time because I barely have time to look at him. I didn't make it to our call today because I was in the library at school and–and I forgot.”
Kingsley hums. His tempus chimes, and he pours the tea into two tea cups, sliding one towards Remus. The smell of chamomile and mint fill the kitchen. “And you don’t think Sirius would understand that you were overly stressed today?”
“He didn’t,” Remus says bitterly. “We got in this—it was awful. He yelled, and I yelled, and I don’t even remember half of what we said. James will be just as upset when he finds out how I’ve failed.”
“What did you tell him? Sirius, I mean,” Kingsley asks.
“I told him I was busy, and he kept trying to… I don’t know,” Remus groans. “He kept trying to make some point and I don’t know what it was. I was still trying to study, but he was so upset about the call. It was like he wanted to duel me, almost, that kind of—you know when he and Regulus get properly mad, and you can smell the magic on them.”
Kingsley nods. “Yes, I am aware.”
“And now he’s not even in our bed because I’m such a shoddy fucking alpha,” Remus says, setting his tea cup down. “I can’t even handle university. I studied the roots of magic, and I can’t…” He drifts off, self-loathing in his voice.
“Did I tell you about the trip to Belize?” Kingsley asks.
Remus looks up at him and shakes his head. “When are you going?”
“We went last year. It was meant to be a romantic getaway. I’d been busy with work, Regulus is always busy, we thought we’d reconnect. Instead we fought. Regulus felt I was being demeaning by planning the itinerary. I was hurt when he dismissed my plans. He ignored me at dinner, and I went to take a walk to clear my head. I couldn’t understand why this lovely vacation had turned into such a nightmare. And when I got back from my walk, I found our hotel empty. He left.”
“Regulus left?” Remus asks, perhaps in disbelief.
Kingsley nods. “I found him three beaches down, under the strongest Notice-Me-Not I’ve ever seen someone create, crying his eyes out with his feet in the waves.”
“Merlin,” Remus murmurs.
“When we talked it out, we unraveled it all. How I thought I’d been kind to take the planning off his shoulders. How he felt alienated by that. What I took for him ignoring me was Regulus spiraling about losing our magic, and he subsequently took my going for a walk as leaving him,” Kingsley says. He stirs his tea. “A whole, terrible fight was really just the two of us, in our own heads, worrying about each other.”
“What did you do?” Remus asks.
“First I sat and cried with him. I felt awful by then. Wrung out. Then we went back to the hotel and spent the weekend in the nude, eating room service.”
“I don’t think that would work for us,” Remus says. “Sirius isn’t wrong that I’m not doing enough, but I don’t have time to do more. I haven’t been around enough, and it was right of him to point it out. They deserve better. I’ve known that the whole time.”
“They deserve better than what?” Kingsley asks.
“Better than me!” Remus shouts, and it’s then that Kingsley notices the tears in his eyes. “I’m not good enough for them, not either of them. If I was smarter, I wouldn’t have to study so hard, and they would be better for it. Either of them could take these classes and not even need to study. If I was a better alpha, I would make time for them. They would be my priority, and none of this would happen. If I was a better human, I wouldn’t be so goddamned tired and trying to play catch up after every fucking full moon, but I just– I can’t do it.” His face is in his hands again, his voice losing the fire on the last few words. “I’m not good enough for them, and I should never have let them convince me otherwise.”
“Did Sirius say any of that?” Kingsley asks, though he knows the answer.
“Yes, of course,” Remus says, but his brow furrows. “I mean, I think he did. He didn’t need to, though. It’s the truth.”
“I’m almost certain he didn’t,” Kingsley says. “I do not want to speak for him, of course. I’m sure you know him better than I do.”
“Right,” Remus says. “Of course. And I’m right.”
“You’re taking three literature classes, aren’t you?” Kingsley asks, purposefully changing course.
Remus jerks his head, thrown by the sudden change. “Yes, as well as a class on Roman mythology and a stupid mathematics class.”
“Do you know what Sirius has been doing when he was over here all week?” Kingsley asks.
Rmus huffs, shuffling his teacup again. “Getting properly railed since I couldn’t do it.”
“Reading,” Kingsley says, ignoring Remus’s statement. “He started with Jane Austen, and worked through all of her books. Followed by Dickens and James Joyce. There was something by Becket too. He made Regulus read the Virginia Woolf novel with him. Perhaps you might recognize this list?”
“He’s reading through my course materials,” Remus says, something like surprise in his voice. “Why would he do that?”
“You would have to ask him,” Kingsley says, “but I suspect that he wanted to help you, if he could.”
“He didn’t say anything,” Remus says.
“No, I suspect not,” Kingsley says. “I don’t think he wanted you to feel bad about it, but he wanted to be ready in case you needed help.”
“Right, because I’m such a fuck up, and he finally decided to tell me when he’d had enough.”
Kingsley sighs. “I do not believe that was his intention, but of course, you know him better than I do.” Remus grunts in acknowledgement, as though Kingsley has finally come around to his way of thinking. Kingsley continues. “Can I tell you about our day?”
Remus half shrugs, which Kingsley chooses to take as permission to continue. “Regulus and I took him to Diagon Alley today. I think he was already feeling a bit out of sorts, so Regulus had hoped, I think, that it would be a bit of a treat for him. We were going to the shop to see Hope, but as you can imagine, Regulus was sidetracked along the way by some wizard who demanded his attention.”
“Not uncommon,” Remus mutters.
Kingsley smiles. “No, unfortunately it’s not. Well, Sirius wandered a bit ahead. I kept an eye on him, but I stayed with Regulus. Perhaps I shouldn’t have.”
Remus tenses next to him, like he knows what is coming next. “What happened?”
“At first, nothing. Sirius stopped in front of Quality Quidditch Supplies, and then the next thing I knew he was talking to a man I didn’t recognize. I started down the street after him, but by the time I got there, Sirius was already dueling the man.”
Remus inhales sharply. “Was he injured?”
“No, quite the opposite,” Kingsley assures him. “He put the man on his knees. The man kept talking, however. Asking something about you–whether you’ve hurt Sirius yet, or whether you had run off to be with your own kind.” Kingsley sees Remus’s pallor pale, a green tint coming to his skin, and he goes on without prompting. “It wasn’t until Regulus caught up and told Lyall to leave or he’d make him regret it that I realized who he was.”
“You met my father today.” Remus’s shoulders haven’t relaxed.
“I suppose I did. I would say it was a pleasure, but it really wasn’t.” Kingsley sips his tea.
“He didn’t hurt Sirius?” Remus asks.
“Not physically, no.” Kingsley sets his cup down again.
“That’s good, at least,” Remus says.
“Sirius’s main concern seemed to be you. He was worried lest Lyall approach you somehow,” Kingsley continues.
“Of course it was,” Remus says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Because Sirius is perfect and I’m a fuck up.”
Kingsley snorts. “Apologies, Remus, but Sirius is far from perfect.”
“I just mean—this, right, Sirius gets attacked defending my honor and I don’t even show up for our standard call and somehow end up yelling at him,” Remus says.
“Didn’t you yell at each other?” Kingsley asks.
Remus sighs. “Yes, I mean, yeah. But—“
“Is it possible,” Kingsley asks slowly, “that Sirius was especially on edge after seeing your father?”
Remus looks down at his feet. “Maybe.”
“Is it possible that he was as worried about you as he needed your comfort?”
“And I yelled at him,” Remus says miserably.
“Is it possible he yelled back because he was upset about what happened?” Kingsley asks. Remus doesn’t respond, just nods. “Is it possible you yelled because you were so stressed about classes?”
“That’s not a good enough excuse,” Remus says.
“Is it possible you’re two humans who had a bad day and miscommunicated?” Kingsley asks.
Remus rubs at his eyes. “But I should’ve been better. I should’ve listened. I should’ve remembered our call.”
Kingsley shrugs. “Do you think Sirius and James want a perfect alpha, or do you think they want you?”
“I—me, probably. But they deserve better,” Remus says.
“It’s not your place to make a choice for them. Isn’t that what you believe? That omegas should make their own decisions?”
Remus groans. “This isn’t about secondary genders.”
“Nevertheless, they chose you. I, personally, think that was a good choice.” Kingsley grabs Remus’s arm, squeezing it lightly. “You’re a good man, Remus. You had a bad day. Go tell Sirius you’re sorry you missed the call and ask him to tell you about his day.”
“He won’t want that,” Remus says.
“He wanted nothing but that after your fight. It’s why he’s sleeping with Regulus upstairs.”
“He’s sleeping with Regulus because Regulus is a better alpha,” Remus says.
“He’s sleeping with Regulus because Regulus is the closest he can get to you when you’re gone,” Kingsley says. “And anyway, he’s got your pillow in his arms.”
Remus rubs his eyes again, suspiciously close to tears. “To punish me?”
“To be close to you,” Kingsley says. “He may come here when you’re busy, but he’s always wearing your jumpers. Why do you think that is?”
Remus hangs his head, a mournful noise spilling out of him. Kingsley grabs him and pulls him close, squeezing Remus against his chest. Remus sags against him, finally accepting the comfort he’s been fighting all night.
“It’ll be alright,” Kingsley promises. “Go. Wake him up. He’s waiting for you. I’m sure you’ll sleep better in each other’s arms. And in the morning, call James. Then call the school and drop a class.”
He expects Remus to argue. Instead, he just nods wordlessly, hiccuping against Kingsley. Kingsley pats his bat. “T-Thanks, Shack,” Remus says, his voice wobbly. “Thank you.”
Kingsley doesn’t follow him immediately, watching him slowly trudge up the stairs. Instead, he cleans up the teapot and cups, not wanting to leave a mess for Kreacher and Dobby when they wake up, and wipes down the counters. After a few minutes, he ascends the stairs as well.
The room across the hall from his and Regulus’s bedroom–the one that has tacitly become James, Remus and sometimes Sirius’s room when they stay–is closed, and he can hear soft murmuring from inside as Sirius and Remus work through the day. Kingsley doesn't bother them.
Instead, he opens the door to his own room and climbs in behind Regulus, pulling him into an embrace. Regulus’s eyes flutter open briefly, and he nuzzles against Kingsley’s shoulder. “Did y’fix it?”
“I spoke with Remus, yes,” Kingsley says, kissing his temple. “I believe he listened, and they’re talking now.”
“Good,” Regulus says. “Then maybe I don’t have to kill him tomorrow.”
“You are as kind as you are wise, my Little Prince.”
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"I can't help falling inlove with you."
Vance likes spending time with Finn.
Well,obviously since he had a crush on him ever since he met him but..there was just something so mesmerizing about that short boy..Is it because of his eyes?His hair?His smile?Vance couldn't confirm it himself so, let's just say,Vance liked every part of Finney.
One night,Finney and Vance were going for a drive,it was around 11 pm,and it was really dark.
Finney leaned his head on the window,staring at the raindrops falling on the window.He was trying his best not to fall asleep,but then again,how could he not?He was so comfortable.
Vance looked at Finney,and all he saw was an angel.He blushed a bit and turned his head to avoid any type of eye contact with Finn.
"I've liked Finney for over 4 years,and yet I still didn't confess to him at all.But then again..what's the point?He likes that girl..Donna,I think."
Vance thought to himself as he grabbed onto the steering wheel even harder than before.
"when will you and Robin stop fighting?"
Finney asked,as he looked at Vance.
It's not like Vance hates Robin,or like Robin hates Vance.But they have a pretty rivalry type of relationship.They both care about Finney deeply,and are afraid of the thought of someone hurting him.
"It's like you guys are constantly fighting over me and it worries me."
Finney continued,looking clearly upset.
Vance inhales a bit of air,and says:
"I don't hate him.But I think he hates me."
"he doesn't hate you.He's just..protective that is..-"
Finn stopped.He felt tired of repeating himself,over and over again.
"well he's the one keeping this up,not me.I think he's pretty decent,regarding the dick-head part of him"
"..You two should get along better.."
Finney said,as he looked Vance directly in the eyes.Vance lets out a sigh.
"I'll try my best to get along with him better."
Finney smiled.He was so glad Vance was trying to make their relationship better.
Finney took a second to look at Vance.If we're being honest,Finn always found Vance somewhat attractive,that long ass hair..the tight jeans, constantly wearing band shirts,the black leather jacket..those mesmerizing blue eyes.
"Vance is so cool.He fights like a badass,but at the same time has this gentle side.."
Finney thought.Then slowly came to a conclusion.
"holy shit."
"I'm inlove with Vance."
Finney thought.
He turned into a red mess.He started getting sweaty and way more red.
He inhaled some air then exhaled,trying to pick up the courage to say it.
"Vance?"
Finn says,panicking deep inside.
"hm?"
"Can-..Can I tell you something..but promise not to get mad or upset"
Vance paused for a second.What was so bad that Finn wanted to tell him that might upset Vance? Vance's first conclusion was that Finney's inlove with Robin,which is the guess he sticked with because it makes most sense.
"Finney,I'll never get mad or upset or disgusted by you.You can tell me anything"
Vance said,patting Finney's shoulder.
Finn sighs.
"I like you.I-I-.."
Before Finn could get a few words out,he felt tears coming down his face,with all different scenarios spinning in his head about how Vance is going to hate him and call him disgusting.
Was Vance hearing it correctly?Is the person he loves the most confessing to him??
Vance looked at Finney,who was tearing up.This melted Vance's heart.He smiled gently at Finn.
"Well,now that you mentioned that.."
Vance parked the car and put his hand on Finn's rose colored cheek.
"I like you too."
Vance said,he was enjoying every minute of Finn's existence.
Finney blushed as Vance wiped away his tears.
"please don't ever let go off me."
Finney said,hugging Vance tightly,burying his face in Vance's pecks.
Vance put Finn's head up and kissed him gently.
That kiss was filled with romance and love,its just so obvious both of them loved each other to death.
Finney gets onto Vance's lap,sitting in his leg,while Vance's fingers are going through Finn's soft,brown hair.They had a "flirty" eye contact.
Vance takes Finney's chin and pulls him into a kiss again.
That kiss flustered Finney,but how could he stop him?I mean,it's Vance Hopper afterall.
"Robin is going to be so mad"
Finney giggled.Robin saw Finn as a little brother so,of course his reaction to this would be hilariously scary.
"who fucking cares?As long as I got a person like you on me I don't give a single shit."
Vance said as he kissed Finn's neck gently.
Finney chuckled a bit.
They really are perfect for each other.
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Hi!I'll mainly write for Vinney cuz...it's my fav ship
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Mysterious - The Plot (As of Oct ‘23)
You know Quinn? We all know Quinn. Quinn’s a dick.
Quinn’s the kid who knows everything, He’s been on holiday everywhere. His mum bought him the book before anyone else even knew it had even been published. Actually, his mum was probably the publisher.
Quinn was always going to win at everything. He had the famous mum who ran the local radio station, and the tennis court in his garden and the private tutors and…
He’s the chino wearing, debating society leading, awfully polite kid who always assumes he’s inevitably going to be the hero.
Which is why, when he turns up at a grotty launderette, desperately seeking asylum with the people his mum’’s radio says, on a daily basis, are the worst, well, everyone has something of a problem.
To be fair, Quinn’s problems started when he was little.
A man called Professor Furbish said he understood Quinn better than the other adults ever could, and that he should go away with him. Quinn went away with him, it was just that he didn't like it, and he asked to go home, and Professor Furbish would not let him.
Quinn got away in the end, but, ever since, he’d had to hide a part of himself.
Professor Furbish, a traveling puppeteer, had built his career by tricking children like Quinn: children who could do things a bit differently to other children.
Furbish, who was not a person who could do anything particularly well himself, was in the habit of taking children who could do things a bit differently to be his assistants, so they could make his shows that little bit more impressive.
The reason Furbish could get away with this, was because being different wasn't ok. This kind of “being different” was called Mysteriousness. Some people are just born Mysterious. No-one knows why.
A long time ago, before Quinn was born, there was a greedy government, and people were getting poorer. The greedy government knew that people who get poorer, get angrier, and they wanted to find someone for the people to be angry with that wasn’t them. Finding a small and already persecuted minority to blame the people’s troubles on is the oldest trick in the greedy government playbook. Mysterious people were the obvious choice.
A little while ago, when Quinn was about eight, the maid was off sick, and Quinn had to take his family's washing to the laundry. He was really sure, as he was about to push the door open, that he saw Miss Montgomery, the old lady who worked there, making her dress change colour. So he rushed up to her and showed her that he could make his jeans turn into shorts and back again. He thought this was pretty cool, but she looked really upset and she told him never to tell anyone else, ever again, that he could do that.
Grownups, it seems, love to get you to keep secrets.
A little while ago, while Quinn was in primary school, Professor Furbish’s puppet show came to town, and Quinn’s school got to go.
Lots of kids went. Lots of kids, and Miss Montgomery, the old lady from the launderette.
She’d heard the jingle on the radio advert for the puppet show, and it had reminded her of something.
No other adults bothered. Puppets were for kids.
It was nice to have an afternoon off lessons - but Furbish’s show was really lame. At the end of it, he asked the audience of kids if anyone could do any tricks that were more interesting.
Quinn learned that day that he was not the only Mysterious kid in the school. There was also Loritz, and Hester.
He also learned that day that a room with visibly Mysterious children in it leads to the police being called, families split up, lives ruined.
He also learned for sure that day that Miss Montgomery was Mysterious.
Miss Montgomery had decided long ago - on another occasion when the police were called, when families were about to be split up, and lives ruined - that the only way to keep Mysterious kids safe was to hide them away. She corralled Loritz and Hester - and Ethel, Furbish’s Mysterious assistant - created a diversion, and swept all three away to the safe house she had made behind her launderette.
She had wanted to take Quinn. But Furbish had told Quinn that he was special, and valued, and Quinn chose feeling valued and special over feeling safe, and went with Furbish, not with Miss Montgomery.
And this was maybe not one of Quinn’s best ideas.
Furbish wanted to get Quinn to keep secrets.
And while Quinn was away, Quinn’s Mum’’s radio station kept running stories about how those poor children had died in a terrorist attack by Mysterious fake puppeteer.
Quinn escaped and got back to the town, to the jubilation of all - only to find that his Mum had broadcast a rather different story to what really happened. Every day he had to walk past the public statue to the heroic dead children who died fighting the evils of Mysteriousness, which his Mum paid for. Every year, he had to speak about the evils of Mysteriousness, at a memorial service that his Mum organised.
Quinn’s mum never talked to Quinn about it, but Quinn knew his mum expected Quinn to keep secrets.
And now Quinn is 16, and he has been keeping secrets for so long, he’s almost forgotten what’s a secret and what’s the truth.
Until Furbish comes back to town.
Having exhausted his long-running magician con, Furbish decided to settle down, pick a new disguise and a new name for his old razzle-dazzle act, and run for Mayor, as Fredbish.
His choice of town is no accident. Furbish / Fredbish never forgot anyone who had crossed him. And he never missed a chance to make a buck.
Completely taken in by Fredbish’s disguise, and his campaign, Quinn’s Mum had invited his preferred Mayoral candidate to dinner: it was the duty of the respectable Press to clearly endorse their choice of election winner, how else would the people of the town work out which way to vote? Fredbish had mentioned to Quinn’s Mum that he was looking for a local lad to assist him with his campaign, and Quinn’s Mum had had a quiet word: Quinn was always the kid who won everything, because he was so clever and so nice, and it was starting to be embarrassing for him and to cause resentments with the local kids, so, instead of going through the hassle of interview candidates and the pain of disappointing everyone else, wouldn’t it be best to just offer Quinn the opportunity? Fredbish had very readily agreed. Fredbish’s readiness to accommodate the needs of the Press made Quinn’s mum even surer that Fredbish was the right candidate for the job.
So when Quinn comes down to dinner, yes he is older now, and yes the man he knew as Professor Furbish is in a sensible suit, and he has a sensible name, but they both recognise exactly who the other one is.
Terrified that Furbish will reveal his secret, Quinn runs away.
It’s been right under his nose all these years, in his hometown. The local launderette. Where, behind the washing machines, the tragic martyred children in the Memorial, and some other children like them, are very definitely, absolutely, resolutely not-dead.
They’ve been there all the time, in the rooms behind the shop front where old, unremarkable Miss Montgomery takes in the town’s smalls and irons their trousers.
The old, unremarkable Miss Montgomery, who, after interrogating Quinn and believing him to be who he says he is - “no more of this Miss Montgomery, it’s aging, please call me Gloria, darling” - transforms her overalls into a couture gown: casting glamours is her magic power, just like Quinn’s
The kids living with her have arrived in all sorts of ways. Posy, the youngest, was left on her steps one night as a baby - no note, no identification. Squid, who has been there the longest, just turned up one night, aged eight, because their parents had chucked them out and the Launderette looked warm. They have had little contact with the outside world for all these years. But they do have a radio, so they do hear what has been said about them.
It takes a while for any of them to see Quinn as anything other than a dick. The golden boy conservative poster-child for the hatred of Mysteriousness. What was he doing here? What were they doing, protecting him?
But slowly, most of them start to accept him. Loritz and Posy like everyone, so that’s easy. Quinn enjoys Loritz’ funny voices and manages not to be grossed out by Posy’s blood everywhere, it’s all good.Actually, Squid’s pretty chill with most people too, they just might not get around to saying so. Ethel never likes anyone. And Hester… well… Hester is the one of the group that follows the news on the radio most closely so knows in greatest detail the destructive lies Quinn has been telling. On top of that, Quinn is a ruling class, straight, cis male, perfect A student… Hester was always going to hate him. Hating people like Quinn is part of who Hester is.
Unsurprisingly, they start to fancy the arse off him. To their great surprise, he fancies them back. But the thing is, they are both also kinda into Ethel…
This is not the only romantic tension in the launderette. Squid has spent the last year unable to think about anything but Loritz. The only person in the launderette who has not noticed this … is Loritz.
The radio is a constant reminder of Fredbish and his campaign. Fredbish repeats, over and over, acts of disturbance and terrorism that historic Mysterious resistance movements have done in response to historic curbs on their freedoms. He speaks regularly of Clara Mendez, the Bloody Midwife, responsible for the mass murder of a ward of children - Gloria always snaps the radio off when she hears this, with the excuse that it’s not good to focus on bad things.
Quinn tells the other children what Fredbish / Furbish is like of course, Ethel knows this only too well. Turns out Gloria does too - when he was in a previous guise, Furley of Furley’s Fashions, he exploited her in a similar way. But, Gloria keeps telling everyone in no uncertain terms, it is imperative we do not not to try to engage with Fredbish, or get involved in what is going on in the outside world any way. There is nothing at all wrong with being Mysterious, she keeps reassuring them, your Mysteriousness can only be used to affect yourself - but desperate and angry people can do wrong. Best leave it all alone. Live apart. Her agitated tone is very unusual for her, and her wards notice it.
Gloria has always been clear that they are building a community outside the town: the only way for Mysterious people to live safely is for them to live separately. They are teenagers, she is 93 - she has seen many waves of anti-Mysterious action in her life, and trying to resist it actively has never ended well.
As far as any teenagers like the people in charge of them, her wards do love and respect her. But they don’t really understand - partly because she doesn't really want to have to explain a load of painful stuff.
A news flash. Candidate Fredbish is calling the disappearance of Quinn an act of kidnapping: the only possible explanation for the disappearance of the town’s beloved son must be that he has been taken hostage by Mysterious terrorists. He, Fredbish, is supporting Quinn’s distraught mother, but it is time for the town to take the law into their own hands. An angry mob can be heard in the background.
Quinn is horrified: has he endangered the very people who have kept him safe? Gloria urges everyone to be calm, and quiet - no-one knows where they are, they need to do what they have always done, keep their heads down till everything starts to get calmer.
And, funnily enough, the radio starts to get calmer, the news flash has been replaced by bland music. Unbeknownst to the residents of the launderette, Quinn’s Mum has cut the broadcast. Far from being comforted by Fredbish, she is horrified by his rabble-rousing, and distraught that she trusted him.
But, as the launderette residents start to breathe and decide, yes, Gloria has a point, it’s best to stay quiet and watchful and not run headlong into a situation like this… they start to hear the mob, not on the radio this time, but on the street.
Quinn makes a decision - this is his mess, and he alone needs to fix it. And he bolts.
Gloria knows this is devastating for the other kids - she is devastated too - but she urges them not to follow him. And they agree.
Which is why it’s a slight surprise to Hester, when, heavily disguised, on a bus into town to help Quinn, they realise that some other people on the bus are familiar behind their disguises… All the launderette kids have snuck out, alone, to go and help Quinn.
They realise Gloria is going to go bananas.
Loritz agrees to go back - his Mysteriousness is being able to make his voice sound like anyone else’s, so with luck he can keep her thinking they are all there, for a while. But he falters - he doest like the idea of lying to Gloria. Ethel calmly tells him that if he doesn't do it, she’ll cut him in his sleep. Loritz decides he’d rather do it. Squid offers to keep him company. Back they go to the Launderette.
No-one's been on the town for a while, but it’s not how they remember it. The radio broadcasts from speakers all around the public space, and it is full of pro-Fredbish, anti-Mysterious propaganda. There is a heavy police presence.
The radio announces a talk show: Quinn, recently returned from his Mysterious ordeal, will talk live to Fredbish about what happened to him and how, for a second time, he has escape the clutches of Mysterious abusers.
The group freezes. Has Quinn turned on them? Or is this part of his plan? Whichever, they know he will be at the radio station, so there is where they go.
Unbeknownst to them, the radio station is now under the control of Fredbish and his thugs. Quinn’s Mum - Felicity - is effectively under house arrest, forced to support Fredbish’s campaign under threat of exposing her Mysterious son.
Despite the odds, Hester, Ethel and Posy bust into the radio station using a stunning combination of their powers - which Fredbish witnesses. Inspired by their presence, Quinn, live on air, confronts Fredbish - this, he tells the people of the town, is in fact Professor Furbish, the man who kidnapped and abused him long ago!
Fredbish remains calm. He explains that of course he knew Quinn would say that - that people like Quinn were why he stood before them as a candidate. And yes, he had tried, way back, to take Quinn out of the town - but he did it in the town’s best interests. Mysteriousness had not been eliminated from society - far from it. Even those in power were Mysterious - especially those in power were Mysterious. How d’ya think Quinn’s Mum got her job? Anything to do with the way her son is…. Mysterious???
Tolerating a son like that is not something a decent parent would do. Only an overprivileged person like Quinn’s Mum would do that. Tolerance of Mysterious people is a luxury belief.
Meanwhile, at the Launderette, Gloria knows something’s up. Loritz keeps making excuses but he’s a bad liar. Squid can barely speak at all. Loritz is pointedly trying to listen to the radio while trying not to look like he is. And then he hears something that makes him openly turn the radio up, regardless of whether Gloria can hear.
Fredbish continues… actually he is very glad Quinn is here tonight, because it helps prove the necessity of the main manifesto point he is here to reveal: finally, under his leadership, Mysterious people were going to be the workers, for a change, not the people who stole the bread from honest working families. The Fredbish Corporation would round up Mysterious people and put them in labour camps, where their power would be harnessed for the greater good of decent people.
Because look! These people cannot be trusted! Fredbish does a big reveal: you know those two kids you’ve mourned all these years - look, one of them’s here, Hester Hamilton, they are alive, they have just been laughing at you all this time! He says he has met Hester’s parents, who have given him the name and the dates of the Mysterious Rehabillitation Camp they sent Hester to - look, these are the kind of moral, upstanding, hardworking parents we want to see more of, not wealthy fake liberals like Quinn’s mum. And look! Also Ethel, who he tried to give an honest job to, but she tricked him. And, who’s this sweet little girl?
Posy likes everyone, so Posy tells him her name.
Fredbish continues, it's fine to put Mysterious people in labour camps, it’s not like they have feelings like real people.
Fredbish beckons forward “little Posy”. The thing is, he explains, its the cute ones you really need to worry about - she looks sweet and you want to be sympathetic to her. But she just busted into my studio by tearing off her own hand and using it to unlock the studio door.
He explains to listeners, he will now demonstrate: asks two of his “assistants” / thugs to come forward and take little Posy’s hands. It’s OK Posy. They are just holding hands with you.
Loritz, Squid and Gloria are terrified. Loritz asks, that man does realise that your Mysteriousness only works on yourself…? Gloria has no such assurance to offer.
Posy screams as Fredbish directs the thugs to rip her arms off.
Posy screams some more and then she dies. There is shouting - Quinn and the other shouting at Fredbish, Fredbish blaming his assistants - and then the broadcast is cut and goes to the bland music.
Loritz, Squid and Gloria are silent.
We all know Quinn. Quinn’s a dick. Quinn thinks he’s the sort of person to be the hero, and drive the story. But when Quinn drives the story, he doesn’t end up the hero - he ends up killing someone he loves.
Gloria isn't the sort of person to be the hero. She hides.
Is it better to hide and stay safe, or take action and risk terrible consequences?
Is there another way?
Quinn and the others return, broken, to the Launderette, fully expecting Gloria to blame him.
Instead, she tells them she blames herself for failing to prepare them for the outside world, and thinking they could stay in a separatist community forever.
She explains the reasons behind her actions.
Throughout the show, we have seen Gloria writing letters to an unnamed loved one.
Now, she explains. Many years ago, Gloria’s lover, Dr Clara Mendez, was a promising surgeon and also the leader of a Mysterious rights group. Removed from her post during a Mysterious crackdown, Clara committed an act of terrorism that resulted in the deaths of children on a hospital ward, and earned her the notorious title “The Bloody Midwife”. She was imprisoned for life. Gloria writes to her every week, but has not got a response. As Hester knows, the things they can do to Mysterious people in institutions are very, very bad. Gloria doesnt even know if Clara is Clara, anymore.
In Gloria’s experience, living in a world that only sees you as a monster will eventually turn you into one. The launderette was her way of giving her wards a different, better life.
Now, though, the townspeople know there is a group of Mysterous young people hiding out somewhere, and it’s only a matter of time until they find the launderette. Now, though, the townspeople have heard Fredbish kill a child live on air.
Gloria decides the time is right to go and meet Furbish on her own terms: she decides to run against him as the first ever openly Mysterious candidate.
This sparks a genuine debate among the town. A child is dead, concentration camps are … a Lot, a few closeted Mysterious people are getting a little sweaty, a few other people are wondering, if magic people can be treated this way, who is next? For a moment, it seems like Gloria could win, and everything could be different.
Actually, she loses.
But not by a huge margin.
In running for mayor, though, Gloria has emboldened the secretly Mysterious townspeople (of whom there are more than Quinn would ever have expected) to come out of hiding. They start turning up at the launderette - first five, then ten, then fifty. And, as Gloria points out, she never actually wanted to win - who wants to be a politician at 93? But she’s paved the way for Hester to run next year.
Gloria was right - there is safety in community and concealment. But the kids were right, too. They can’t change attitudes from inside the launderette. They have to be outside, finding each other, building communities. The next years won’t be easy - there are no happy endings - but they have started to make a change.
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hm. well, imo, susie pamps are best either when she's suddenly forced into them, or when she already wore them and it's a new thing- but you could also try her willingly putting them on along with/for someone, or her diapers already being known about and her being the one teased for once
That isn't fair anon, you can't give me so many different story hooks in one ask and expect me to pick one. I mean, I did, but it was hard when I wanted to write every option you gave me. I hope you enjoy, and please keep writing in! Even if you don't have other requests, I like chatting with people that like similar things.
Even among friends, Susie was prone to being a bully. She refused to sand her rough edges down for anyone, often bringing up things to either upset or embarrass whoever she was talking to. It likely would’ve made any friendship between her and Kris impossible, had Kris not discovered a very effective reset button for the girl’s ego.
At school and around Hometown, Susie’s baggy jeans and long jacket never gave the impression of hiding anything, but it was a different story in the Dark World. With her vest only just long enough to reach her belt, it was obvious the moment she walked anywhere that she was absolutely wearing a diaper under her pants.
She’d tried to deny it - all the way to Castle Town, impressively - but there were only so many ways to deny something everyone within five feet could see and hear, and by the time Lancer had made his dramatic entrance and exit, she’d come clean about her situation.
“I just didn’t learn some stuff other kids did, okay? Or at least, I was taking a while, so I gave up.” Assuming something from the looks they and Ralsei were giving her, she then snapped, “Don’t think this lets you call me stupid or any crap! I’ll bite your goddamn face off if you do!”
Kris didn’t call Susie stupid for it; the thought never occurred to them.
They did bring it up often, though.
While it certainly didn’t defuse Susie, often causing her temper to flare even moreso, she could be consistently broken from whatever bullying she was doing by a pointed comment about her situation. Simply calling her childish or immature was enough for most situations, but Kris drew some quiet satisfaction from asking if Susie was ill-tempered because she needed a change, and watching as she was reduced to wordless noises of frustration, the many threats she wanted to make against Kris’ person presumably clogging her throat too much for words.
It was a lot easier to put up with Susie, with this strategy in mind. She went from being a cruel bully to seeming more like a puffed-up brat, annoying at moments but easily deflated before anything awful happened, and honestly pretty funny to mess with in those moments.
Now, a day after the initial discovery and with Susie seemingly more willing to put up with Kris, the whole thing had started to feel like an in-joke, albeit one that made Susie’s shoulders hunch as she tried to hide behind her fringe.
Which was why it was surprising when Susie reacted so strongly this time.
Having just finished the pottery maze, Susie was behaving the way that Kris honestly wanted to themself, methodically smashing every pot in the room into fine powder. She hadn’t even been the one carrying the pot on her head, but Kris wasn’t about to point that out.
Ralsei, however, seemed to think differently. Standing well clear of any flying shards, he commented, “Gosh, you’re really angry, aren’t you, Susie? Is it because you need a change?”
Susie’s head turned so fast Kris could almost hear the whip-crack noise. “What?! No! Don’t say crap like that!” Her face was as red as they’d ever seen it get, and quickly she turned to smash up another pot.
Kris frowned, rolling Susie’s words and attitude around in their head. She hadn’t outright yelled at either Kris or Ralsei for suggesting that all day, taking that particular comment on the chin, so why did it seem to get to her now?
Wait... no way...
“Susie,” Kris spoke slowly, making sure their voice carried over the loud shattering sounds, “do you actually need a...?”
“I just said I didn’t! Lay off it!” Gnashing her teeth, Susie stomped on the next pot rapidly, reducing it to dust beneath her boot in a matter of seconds. “Grahh, forget this! Let’s keep going.”
“But Susie,” Ralsei stepped in front of her as she tried to move out of the room, “remember what I said? It’s okay if you need help sometimes too! So you can tell us if you need your diaper changed, since we’re friends, right?”
Ralsei was the best. Kris knew he was saying this with only the purest intentions, and they knew Susie knew that too, which was clearly its own level of torment for her. “I - I know, okay Ralsei?” She replied, lowering her voice back to proper speaking volume. “But I mean it, I’m fine. I don’t need help with any of that crap.”
“Really? It’s just that you’ve been walking a little funny since we left the dining hall, and, well, I know that dog ride scared me a lot. So it’d be completely okay if you... well, you know!”
“Ralsei’s right,” Kris signed now that Susie was looking at them. “You’ve been slower than normal since then, so either you need a change or you’re hurt and not telling us. Either way, you should let Ralsei take care of that.”
“Y-yeah, exactly!” Gaining some confidence with Kris backing him up, Ralsei nodded firmly. “Since you mentioned it yesterday, I made sure I brought a spare change with me just in case you needed it, so I’m all set to help out!”
Susie was clearly torn, a deep scowl across her face as her cheeks continued to radiate heat. Her hands clenched in the fabric of her pants, causing it to creak from the strain she put on it. Standing still, Kris wasn’t sure if it was their imagination, or if the bulk of Susie’s diaper against her pants was a little more noticeable right now. Would it be, if she’d really used it?
“...fine. Let’s - I dunno, keep going until we find another bathroom or something, then I guess you can help. Kris can guard the door or something.”
Ralsei nodded again, and it seemed like the conversation would end, but Kris couldn’t resist poking Susie one last time. “I should stay in the room with you, actually.”
Having been about to take a step, Susie froze comically, their scowl ticking another degree deeper. “Why.”
“Don’t want to be out on my own if any enemies are on patrol,” they explained, completely reasonably. They let that hang in the air for a moment, let Susie believe they really just had a rational explanation for it, before continuing, “And I should know how to do it too, in case you and Ralsei get separated and I have to ‘help you out’ instead. Right, Ralsei?”
“Right! I can talk you through it while I help Susie, it’s really easy. Golly, you’re lucky you have a friend like Kris, right?”
Susie glared at Kris. Kris met her gaze calmly, the corner of their mouth quirking up. Outvoted, Susie looked away first, stomping out of the room and forcing the other two to follow. “Lucky’s one word for it, I guess.”
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yandere!taeyong: no secrets.
▹ a/n : hello loves, I chose a really shitty title for this but whatever loll this is something I wrote in like a day, sometimes I write absolute filth for no reason, this is one of those times.
▹ triggers : yandere!au, detailed smut, unprotected sex + creampie, mirror sex, daddy kink but like not super heavy tho
▹ pairing : lee taeyong x chubbyfem!reader
▹ synopsis : keeping secrets from your yandere boyfriend probably isn’t the best idea...unlesss they’re lee taeyong (even then that’s risky bizness my friend.)
••
Taeyong sighed as he stared down at the text message on his phone, his grip on the steering wheel tightening until his knuckles turned white. He peered out the window of his car to glance across the street once more, staring at your apartment building.
He was parked across the street, his car parked far enough away that you wouldn’t be able to recognize his car from someone else’s.
Taeyong was immediately reminded of the lit cigarette he had in his other hand when the unflicked ash fell, slightly singeing the patch of skin on his leg where his ripped skinny jeans had left him exposed. He cursed under his breath, rolling the window down just enough to toss the still lit bud on the ground.
He was so distracted by you, more specifically, the blatant lie he had just caught you in that he completely forgot about his surroundings for a moment, causing him to let the cigarette burn almost entirely without ever flicking the ash.
You see, you and Taeyong have been dating for just a few months now. You were in that weird limbo stage where you were transitioning from casual dating to exclusivity. At least for you that’s how it was.
Taeyong had already moved past that stage months ago. He was serious about you, he was just being courteous by allowing you time to feel the same. But he was steadily growing impatient with you and all your sudden antics.
Things were going perfectly fine in the beginning. You were perfect, every bit of innocence and naivety that Taeyong wanted. You checked off all the boxes for him. And he didn’t need you to tell him that you felt the same way. Which is why it was pissing him off that you seemed to suddenly start pulling away from him slowly.
You’d begun acting strange. Avoiding him lately, whereas before you always obediently jumped at the chance to spend time with him. You also had refused to be intimate with him for a few weeks now, which wouldn’t have been a problem on it’s own. Taeyong was patient when it came to things like that and he was willing to go slow.
But in this instance Taeyong felt he had a right to be upset. Even in the few short months you’d been dating, Taeyong had managed to turn you into a full on nympho. Molding you into his perfect little sex kitten, ready to do whatever he wanted and whenever. What changed?
All of these things, amongst others, have led Taeyong to conclude that you obviously must be seeing another man. What else could it be? Things were going so well and then you suddenly changed up without any explanation.
And most recently Taeyong had caught you red handed in a lie.
He texted you earlier in the day to ask if he could come and see you. You replied back saying you had been at work. An obvious lie because Taeyong had been parked outside your house since last night, watching your front door to see if he could catch anyone coming in or out. He felt bad for stalking you, especially since he vowed to himself that he would try to be less invasive this time around.
He really liked you and didn’t want to scare you off.
So he left, giving up after nearly four hours of watching your house and not seeing anything out of the ordinary. He had only come back this afternoon in hopes that he might catch you on your lunch break. You worked nearby and it wasn’t uncommon for you to come home during this time.
He got excited when he pulled up to see your car parked out front already, the need to see you face to face building inside him. He hadn’t seen you in nearly a week, you claimed you were swamped with work and that’s why you didn’t have much time to spend with him like you normally did. Taeyong could tell you were lying to him, he had to stop himself from marching up to your apartment right then and there confronting you about your lies.
But he wanted to be sure. He needed concrete proof that he was right about what had been going on with you.
So he texted you a second time, asking if you had decided to come home for lunch today. He had seen you upstairs in your bedroom window, moving around, he knew you were home. If you texted him back with a different response he could confirm you were lying to him.
Unsurprisingly enough, you replied back, saying you were still at work and would probably be working late tonight.
He scoffed as he reread your message. Rolling his eyes in annoyance as he peered up at your bedroom window, straining his eyes to try and see what you were doing exactly.
Taeyong stayed put in the car for a while, trying to decide what the best course of action would be. He wanted to just march up there to you but he didn’t know what he’d even say.
Quite frankly, Taeyong was a little embarrassed. He wished he didn’t feel so affected by you. If it were any other girl he’d have dropped them a long time ago, deciding they weren’t worth the trouble.
But this was you we were talking about...His precious baby girl, the girl who he was actively trying to change for. He had been pegged as the crazy, overbearing, sometimes even violent boyfriend by nearly all of his ex’s.
They weren’t wrong actually. Taeyong was all of those things. But he was trying to suppress that kind of behavior just for you. He wanted you to want him too, he didn’t want to feel like he was trapping you into a relationship with him. Things were so different with you.
As angry and as hurt Taeyong was because of you lying to him, he still couldn’t bring himself to actually be angry with you. He was upset about the situation, but not at you. Honestly, once he saw you in person he wasn’t sure if he’d want to raise his voice and yell at you, or bury his head between your thick thighs.
God...it had been so long since he was inside you.
Only a week actually, but even that was too long for Taeyong.
Not wanting to sit and wrestle with his thoughts any longer Taeyong climbed out of the car. He jogged up the front steps to your door, trying to measure his breathing as he did so. He almost raised his hand to knock until he remembered you always kept a spare under a nearby potted plant.
He had to check under a few before he picked up the right one.
With your spare key now in hand, Taeyong could slip through the front door quietly. Even though during his stakeouts he never saw anyone go in or out of the house he still wondered if there was a chance you were being unfaithful. If not that, what else could it be?
Whatever it was, he was going to confront you about it today. No longer would he be left in the dark like this.
He unlocked the door, slipping in as quiet as a mouse. He pushed the door closed behind him, gently as not to alert you, wherever you were in the house. He kicked his shoes off at the door, knowing he’d be much quieter with sock clad feet instead of the heavy boots he had on previously.
Taeyong’s ears perked up as he heard you drop something on the floor upstairs. Considering the part of the ceiling he heard the noise from he guessed you were in the bathroom upstairs. Taeyong’s feet carried him up the stairs to your bedroom, the door was left open ajar already.
Carefully, he peeked through the crack to ensure you weren’t in the bedroom, even through the tiny space in the doorway Taeyong could see your figure standing in the bathroom connected to your bedroom. He pushed the door open enough to slip inside.
Taeyong stood under the arch of the doorway to your bathroom, watching you with curious eyes, your back was facing him so you were still unaware of his presence behind you, he could see you were struggling to open something.
Taeyong was about to speak up and announce himself to you until he took quick note of how your frustration turned to panic as you furiously twisted and pulled at the cap of…a pill bottle?
Now Taeyong was really curious.
With one last heave you released a large puff of air as the cap twisted off the bottle, Taeyong quickly sprung into action, taking two long strides across the expanse of the bedroom to get to where you stood in the bathroom.
He was too late though and you had already swallowed one of whatever those pills were.
“Taeyong?” You jumped, startled as Taeyong snatched one of your wrists to spin you around to face him.
Your cheeks turned red as you tried to inconspicuously hide your other hand that still held the bottle of pills behind your back.
“Give it.” Is all Taeyong said, his grip on your wrist tightening.
You shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, whenever Taeyong spoke in that demanding tone of his you’d always instantly obey and comply with whatever it was he wanted, not wanting to piss him off further.
But this time…this time you just couldn’t. You were too embarrassed, your hand felt frozen in place behind your back.
Growling, Taeyong spun you around and pushed you against the bathroom counter, pinning your arm behind your back as he retrieved the bottle of pills for himself.
You nearly toppled over because of his quick movements catching you so off guard. His firm hold on your arm pinned behind your back, catapulted you into the bathroom counter, your breasts plopping against the cool marble countertop.
Taeyong squinted his eyes to read the tiny print on the bottle, “What are these?” He asked, unfamiliar with the name of the pills.
You glanced up at him in the mirror, his jaw clenching as he tried to decipher what the long complicated name printed on the bottle meant.
It was as if you’d forgotten how to speak. Everything had happened so quickly and your mind was still taking a minute to process it all.
You had spent months trying to keep this one secret hidden from Taeyong. You went to any lengths possible if it meant protecting your secret. Even lying to him when necessary, which had become pretty frequent as of late.
All of it was catching up with you now.
Today would probably mark the end of your relationship, you were sure of it, there’s no way Taeyong would even be able to stomach the sight of you once he knows the truth. He’d probably think you were pathetic, too pathetic to be his girlfriend.
And you just couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eye as your tower of lies came crashing down around you.
Your head fell, hanging shamefully as you tried to ignore Taeyong’s burning gaze.
Taeyong was growing impatient with you, wanting answers and wanting them now. His fingers tangled themselves in your hair, gripping your roots not so gently as he pulled your head back to force you to stare straight ahead, so you were looking directly at him in the mirror.
Your back arched instinctively as you stretched your body out to follow his hand, wincing slightly in pain as you did so.
“Tae…what are you doing here?-
You were cut off by Taeyong slamming his hips into your backside, pinning your own hips firmly against the counter as he trapped you under his weight. His hand in your hair moved to wrap around your throat from behind.
“I’m growing impatient with you Y/N. Tell me now and stop avoiding the question.” Taeyong said
“Tell me.”
Your eyes were slightly red, a little teary as you nervously glanced up at him once before parting your lips to speak.
Your eyes searched his black ones for approval, it’s like you were silently asking him without saying it,
Will you still want me after this?
Taeyong only softened temporarily as he took note of your reluctance, he used his free hand to rub small circles on your back to soothe you.
“T-They’re…appetite suppressants.” You answered shamefully.
Taeyong’s grip on you loosened as he listened.
“Appetite Suppressants?” He echoed, glancing down at the bottle and back at you.
Taeyong felt foolish and annoyed. You had been so secretive and sneaky lately, he was sure it was because you had another man in your life, not diet pills?
Taeyong screwed the cap of the bottle off with ease, dumping the rest of the pills down the toilet.
You had to swallow an audible groan. You had paid good money for those pills. They weren’t cheap over the counter pills, you had gone to your doctor to have them prescribe something stronger for you. Watching the pills be carelessly flushed down the toilet made you wince internally.
“You don’t need these. Stop taking them.” Taeyong demanded as he placed the empty bottle down on the counter.
“Understand?” He asked you, displeased with your lack of response.
“But…Taeyong. I need those.” You breathed softly, slowly raising up from the sink to turn around and face him.
“I need them Taeyong. I can’t just give them up, not yet, not till I’m-
“Why not?” He questioned.
Fat, ugly tears started to roll down your cheeks as you swallowed the lump in your throat, “I’m still not perfect enough for you yet.” You whispered softly.
It was hard to say it out loud but it was true. You constantly felt like a tub of lard next to Taeyong. You didn’t want to feel that way anymore. You wanted to walk beside him with pride. You couldn’t do that. Not yet at least. Not with your current body.
Taeyong really didn’t like that you were fighting him on this. You were so naturally submissive, always going out of your way to avoid conflict with people especially Taeyong, he could say almost anything and you would listen and obey to whatever he wanted or expected from you.
Mostly because it was just in your nature to be more on the submissive side, but also because you felt like you were incredibly lucky to have someone like Taeyong, who were you to be making demands?
Even when there were times that you disagreed on something and wanted to vocalize your opinion, Taeyong would whisper in your ear how much he loved you and how you just needed to let go and trust him.
Usually it worked too.
But Taeyong was in no mood to be that gentle with you, not that it would matter anyways. This is the one thing you know that you will always fight him on.
Your body.
Taeyong never entertained any conversations with you when it came to your weight and feeling insecure about your body. He waved them off as you being “silly” or something like that.
It wasn’t that Taeyong didn’t care. It’s just that he’s a yandere and has never known how to process any of his feelings in a relatively healthy way.
It’s easier for him to ignore the issue rather than confront it. He’s afraid he won’t know how to make you feel better. He doesn’t know how he can make you see the beauty that he sees.
“Don’t make me the reason that you’re desecrating your body this way.” Taeyong hissed, landing a harsh slap against your ass cheek for emphasis.
You yelped, already feeling the numb burning sensation spread across your afflicted skin.
Taeyong grabbed hold of your hair again, raising the top half of your body off the counter until your back was pressed flush up against his chest. He snaked one arm around your waist, locking you in place against him whilst the other remained tangled in your hair.
Your head fell back against his shoulder as you followed his hand to escape the painful friction at your roots.
You fell into place so naturally against Taeyong, your bodies molding together so perfectly.
Taeyong loved the way your body was so soft and squishy, he loved your thick full curves, your deliciously plump body is what had initially attracted him to you.
How could you possibly think that something already so perfect needed to be changed?
Taeyong pressed a gentle kiss to your neck, moving to nibble at your sensitive earlobe, “Darling. What’s it gonna take, hm?”
“What’s it gonna take to get you to stop obsessing over this?” Taeyong asked, his free hand beginning to roam your body.
“To stop…saying all these mean things about yourself?” Taeyong’s voice trailed as his hand slid down the length of your abdomen, his long slender fingers gliding across all of your rolls and stretch marks.
All you had on was an oversized t-shirt, Taeyong’s to be exact. One that he’d left over here before.
Seeing you in his clothes sent waves of electricity directly to the head of his cock, making him harden. He wanted you to wear his clothes all of the time, he wanted his smell to linger on your skin, letting everyone know you were his.
As much as he loved seeing you in his shirt he couldn’t wait to rip it off you.
Especially now with the way your hard nipples were poking through the thin cotton material, practically begging him to turn you around and assault them with his teeth and tongue.
He couldn’t wait.
He was going to do every dirty, lewd thing imaginable to you tonight. No part of your body would be left untouched once he was done.
He needed you to know that you’re beautiful. He had to show you just how in love with you and your body that he was. He didn’t know how to translate those feelings into words, just action.
Taeyong released his hold on your hair to be able to use both of his hands as he groped and fondled your body.
His hands moved up to your breasts, cupping them in his warm large hands through your shirt.
He kneaded them, moving to tug at your nipples through the fabric to make you mewl.
“Do you feel that baby?” Taeyong asked as he rolled his hips into your backside, his cock standing at full attention now, allowing you to easily feel his erection through his jeans.
“Do you see how badly I want you? Look at how hard I am and I’ve barely touched you.” Taeyong said , groaning as he rocked his hips against you once more. Loving the feeling of your round backside rubbing up against his cock.
You were wet already and growing impatient with Taeyong’s teasing. Your clit throbbed painfully, desperately needing attention. You rutted your backside back against Taeyong, begging him to take you already.
Taeyong raised one of your legs up to rest on top of the counter, giving him perfect access to your pussy.
His shirt on you wasn’t long enough to cover the full expanse of your ass so as your leg raised up on the counter, your glistening folds were revealed to him.
“Do you think you deserve to cum? After all you’ve done, all the sneaking around and the hiding? Do you really think I should give you any relief?” Taeyong teased as he used his fingers to slide up and down your slick slit, collecting your juices on his fingers.
“Please…” You begged with a pout, pushing back against him as you felt his fingers on you.
“Aht. Aht. No moving around or I’ll have to pin you against the counter like before.” He threatened as he stopped you from grinding your hips down against his fingers.
Feeling defeated you sighed, relaxing into his touch as you tried not to think about how badly you wanted to cum.
“Don’t look away from the mirror or I’ll stop.” Taeyong warned.
You nearly turned your head away momentarily to peek at what he was doing but decided against it at the last second.
Taeyong knelt down until he was level with your pussy. His warm breath fanned your skin sending shivers down your spine.
Taeyong’s soft wet tongue licked a single stripe along your slit, stopping at your clit to give it a single kiss before enclosing his soft lips around your bundle of nerves.
Your mouth dropped open as a moan fell past your lips.
Taeyong’s tongue worked quickly, alternating between lapping at your folds and sucking on your engorged clit.
You gripped the edge of the counter for support. You wanted to pull away from him when the pleasure became too intense but he smacked your ass whenever you moved so much as an inch away.
He released your clit from his mouth with an audible popping sound as he did so. Standing back up at his full height Taeyong took pleasure in seeing the way your eyes followed him in the mirror, eagerly waiting for his next move.
Taeyong unbuckled his belt and tugged his jeans down just enough, his cock bouncing up and slapping his abdomen as he released it from the confines of his briefs. A bead of precum was leaking from his head. Taeyong teased you by rubbing the head of his cock against your folds.
“Do you want to come? Wanna come as I pound this perfect pussy of yours with my cock? I don’t think you deserve it. You’ve been a bad kitten lately haven’t you? Sneaking around, hiding things from me, saying awful things about yourself, and making me worry…” Taeyong said, resting his chin against your shoulder as he met your gaze in the mirror.
“I’m sorry…” You whimpered, grinding your ass back against him.
“Are you really though?” Taeyong asked, his eyes narrowing at you.
“Yes. I’m so sorry.” You whined, growing desperate for release.
“Are you ever going to do something like this again, kitten?” He asked, slipping his hands under your shirt to roll your nipples in between his fingers.
“I won’t. I swear.”
Taeyong smirked, loving the sound of desperation in your voice.
“Do you promise? Tell daddy you promise to never do this again and he’ll give you what you want okay?”
He didn’t have to tell you twice before you were repeating over and over like a mantra, “I promise I’ll never do it again, daddy.” You fluttered your lashes at him in the mirror, hoping he’d sense your sincerity.
That was all Taeyong needed to see before backing up and sinking his cock deep into your pussy.
He groaned as your walls hungrily sucked him in, greedily accepting every inch of him.
You arched your back, raising your ass even higher in the air for him.
Taeyong was relentless in how he fucked you. His nails painfully dug into the flesh on your soft hips as he held onto them for support whilst he pounded you from behind.
“Do you hear how wet you are? This pussy is practically milking my cock.” Taeyong moaned, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror.
He was right. You were so wet, the obscene squelching noises your pussy was making around his cock bounced off the four walls of the bathroom.
“Taeyong…” You moaned.
He moved one hand off your hip to rest against your hand that was lying on the counter, he grabbed your hand to lace your fingers together.
“That’s right baby. Look at yourself, look at how well you’re taking my cock…such a good girl for me, my beautiful good girl.”
You could’ve come right then and there just because of how dirty the words coming from Taeyong’s mouth were.
You felt warm and happy as he praised you, calling you a good girl for taking him so well.
Taeyong continued drilling into you, never losing the rhythm he had set or the speed he was going at. He kept repeating in your ear over and over how pretty you looked and how beautiful you were.
Usually compliments like that went in one ear and out the other, you never liked to dwell on them for long because you just didn’t believe them.
But now…right here, right now. Watching yourself in the mirror as Taeyong fucked you, the faces you were making, and the way your body instinctively rolled and grinded back against him.
Even you couldn’t deny the beauty of the scene before you.
You could see him in the mirror, watching as his hands gripped and groped at your flesh, his desire and want for you evident on his face, evident in the manner at which he was thrusting deep inside you as if his life depended on it.
Thrusting with a desperation that matched yours, you needed this, to feel him inside of you, filling and stretching your walls with a subtle sweet pain.
“Taeyong, I’m gonna come.” You warned, feeling yourself clench around him.
The essence of your shared arousal started to drip down your thigh.
“Then come for me.” Taeyong answered, reaching his hand around your waist to rub your clit, propelling you further into your state of euphoria.
You rocked your hips back against him, chasing after your own orgasm.
You moved to throw your head back and rest it on his shoulder but Taeyong was quick to push your head forward, reminding you with a slap on your ass to not look away from the mirror.
“I want you to watch as you come on my cock.” Taeyong growled, determination clear in his voice as he unsheathed his cock completely from your warmth only to slam his hips back into yours.
You squealed as Taeyong angled his thrusts upward to hit your g-spot. Your eyes welled with tears, and your hand gripped the edge of the counter as you braced yourself.
It only took Taeyong a few more strokes before you were clenching around him uncontrollably, your pussy creaming on his cock. You collapsed on the counter, too tired to hold yourself up anymore. You winced a little as Taeyong continued to drill into you, the pleasure turning into a slight burn as he overstimulated you.
You wiggled your hips, trying to bring your hiked up leg down from the counter whilst also inching away from Taeyong’s thrusts.
“Stay still.” Taeyong grunted, pinching your outer thigh.
Taeyong abused your poor cunt until he was ready to fill you with his seed. He made sure he was stuffed deep inside of you when he painted your walls with his cum.
Once the two of you had caught a minute to catch your breath, Taeyong carefully pulled out of you, making a mess between your thighs as he did so. Your empty pussy was now clenching on air, inadvertently pushing Taeyong’s cum out of your hole causing it to run down your inner thighs.
Taeyong leaned down to kiss the back of your neck, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as you came down from your high.
Finally, Taeyong pushed himself off of you to allow you to rise up from the counter. He turned you around to face him so he could properly kiss you on the lips.
“Wait, where are you going?” Taeyong asked as you kissed him before untangling your limbs from his.
“To shower?” You answered, one hand already on the nozzle of the tap to turn the shower on.
You were a sweaty, sticky mess, in desperate need of a nice long shower.
Taeyong smirked, pulling you back into his chest, “We’re still not done here.”
Your face must’ve said it all because before you got the chance to whine about being tired Taeyong was already pressing you up against the wall.
“Spread your legs again. Nice and wide for me...Daddy’s going to make sure you get all clean again…”
#nct x reader#nct taeyong#nct smut#nct smut reactions#nct yandere smut#nct yandere#yandere smut#yandere nct#chubby reader#chubby smut#chubby!reader#lee taeyong#lee taeyong smut#taeyong smut#yandere taeyong
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Dive Into You: Part 4.(M)
Preview: “What brings you into confession today?”
Pastor Lee’s voice sounds through the small wooden booth around you. Uncomfortably shifting in your seat when the reality of confessing your sins to the one who brought them into this world settles.
“Pastor… what does the bible say about pre-marital sex with two brothers?”
“At the same time?!” Pastor Lee spits out abruptly, gagging on his words.
“Separately Pastor!”
Pairing: brothers Jeno/Haechan x female reader
Word Count: 4k
Genre: pwp, church boys AU, smut, love triangle, brothers nohyuck, a little angsty
Warning: sacrilegious themes, explicit language, master manipulator Haechan, innocent Jeno, corruption, cheating, religious innuendos
Smut Warning: dry humping, fingering, in public setting
Intro—>
Part 1–>
Part 2–>
Part 3–>
“Oh my gosh goodness, that woman is old enough to be his mother!” Your mother gasps, hand over her chest. Haechan strutting into mass with, quite frankly a woman old enough to be his mother. Scantily clad in a tight skimpy hardly there dress. Arm securely draped around her waist. Your jaw falls open following where he leads her into a pew. Both Mark and Jeno sharing looks, back and forth between you and Haechan. Mumbling whispers erupting throughout the crowd of church-goer’s gathered.
“Isn’t that woman just a bit too mature for Pastor Lee’s son?” A voice behind you whispers. Conversations sparking around faster. Pastor Lee awestruck at the podium, slack jawed similar to you and others questioning what Haechan is doing. Your mother scoffing eavesdropping in on everyone muffling their words.
“That is just disappointing. Such a promising young man, wasting his time with an old whore like that.” She lets out a sound in dismay. Never noticing how you hide your face behind the scripture for today's mass. If you muted everyone's speaking enough, sure enough, you’d be able to hear your heartbreaking this very moment. Blinking away hot tears threatening to pass over the rims of your eyes.
Your mother may have not noticed, but that didn’t mean the altar boys missed the way you sunk into your seat. Sadness taking over your features as Haechan relaxed in the pew across from you. Arm around this woman’s shoulders, large smirk displayed. Jeno and Mark gave you many warnings, too many. Your stubborn fault for not listening…always insisting to do things your way. Maybe this was how life worked? How could you have expected a guy like Haechan to want you for more than sex?
Your eyes lift to the ominous cross hung above the altar where you let Haechan commit sin with your body. This church becoming more like a place to drag your mind through hell than anything. Ah, but what was really the point in letting yourself get upset over this? He used you, like some brainless naive idiot you danced along to the pied pipers fiddle.
With a few rapid blinks you return to stare at the floor until this dragging mass ends. Catching Jeno’s gaze before you land on the dirty brown itchy carpet. His lips part open, surprised when your eyes lock on each other. The question passing through his mind all too obvious in his stare. A silent ‘are you ok?’ that you didn’t even deserve from him.. Forcing a smile, your eyes end on the floor, defeated. What if Jeno was the angel on your shoulder that you turned a muted ear to? Turning the volume up for the devil on your other side. Consequences, that’s what the bible was all about wasn’t it? Learning your lesson and living with the aftermath.
Eve bit into the apple of temptation, you were no different.
——————————————————————————
“Father Lee insisted we provide fruit along with baked goods. Health is wealth!” Your mother slaps an apple in your palm. Turning to greet approaching bodies with a shining bright small. Like a wire hanger was propped in her mouth.
“Watermelon! My favorite!” Mark’s brows wiggle, picking up a plate of vibrant fruit. “The fruit of salvation. You know fruit represents, pleasures.. overindulgence, temptation.”
Mark holds up a slice of bright red watermelon. Pale light in the bible room dimming it’s flavorful beauty. Admiring it as if it’s the best thing in the world. He takes a large bite, avoiding seeds. Juice spilling down his chin, speaking between chews- “Can’t always agree with the bible I guess.”
“That’s shocking coming from you..” you look at the apple in hand. Thumb rubbing over a bruise developed on the red yellow coating.
“Nothings perfect right? Only God is perfect. Look at that apple, bruised but still serves a purpose. Sort of like us, we have our flaws but we’re doing our best.” Mark shrugs, devouring the rest of his watermelon.
“You’re pretty logical when you’re not quoting Samael 6:66 all the time.” You smile, earning the jaw drop from Mark as expected.
“Now that is just blasphemous, you little harlot!” Mark scoffs. Damn finger waving about in front of your nose. “Jesus said..”
“Save the quote, I’m not seeing the gates of heaven anytime soon.” You quietly interrupt Mark. Setting down the apple with the other fruits. Some more pristine then others, none perfect. How could perfection be defined anyway..
“I’m pretty sure my invitation to the sky above got revoked years ago.” Perfection spoke up. Jeno standing by, catching the tail end of your conversation. Hands shoved into the pockets of his tight black jeans. Form hugging black t-shirt tucked in. Defined trimmed waist leading down to sculpted long legs. Physique of a God if you’d ever seen one.
“Gods for sure not the only perfect being..” you mumble under your breath. Mark and Jeno’s eyes both lifting to you curiously. Smiling, shrugging off a response. “Well I’m sure you redeemed yourself with all that bible camp stuff. God loves shit like that.”
“Does he now?” Jeno’s arms cross over his chest. Forehead wrinkling in surprise. Mark muttering into another bite of fruit how you needed to stop cursing all the time.
“He doesn’t communicate with me, but I’d imagi-…” Haechan’s loud laughter cuts your speech off. Entering the room with that woman old enough to be his mother. Pulling them closer to the table filled with coffee, pastries, fruits. Shifting side to side anxiously as they near, stomach bubbling in.. embarrassment? Was it because Mark and Jeno knew?..or could at least assume very well.
“Aw nono, you already changed out of your cute little altar boy get up? Wanted to introduce my girl to my cute innocent little brother. Now you just look like hot topic threw up on you or something.” Haechan pokes at Jeno. Smirk plastered across his face. Jeno’s ‘fuck off’ reply coming in like garbled words.
My girl?! My girl? All of a fucking sudden? Hag. Haechan wasn’t even sparing you a glance. If he was trying to make it clear there was nothing between the two of you- he didn’t need to try much harder. Accepting the situation the best to your abilities or not wasn’t going to stop the rush of tears attempting to streak down your face. A quick spin had you racing out of the church, Jeno’s neck snapping catching sight of your back exiting.
“You’re such a dick Haechan.” Shoving past his older brother, Jeno pushes past a few bodies. Running out of church behind you.
“I didn’t watch the porn because there was a watermelon in it…BUT there was a watermelon in it…” Mark’s eyes lift expecting to see you and Jeno. Too engrossed in his favorite snack. Haechan staring at him dumb founded.
“This is exactly why I don’t believe in God.” Haechan’s head shakes, teeth clicking. Nudging the woman at his side to agree with him. “He’s my distant cousin. Emphasis on distant.”
——————————————————————————-
“Hey! Wait up!” Jeno catches up to you easily. Long legs sprinting out faster than you were moving. Hand wrapping around your arm, revealing your wet tear stained face with a turn. His face instantly falling, chest moving up and down returning to a regular breathing pace.
“It’s ok..” hands lift covering your face. You should be accustomed to this sensation of embarrassment by now. Hunching in, sobbing harder the more it settles in. Humiliating deeper because it wasn’t some secret you could live with. Jeno knew exactly how easily you walked into his brothers trap.
His hands shook, staying still in the air near your head. Internally resisting the immediate urge to comfort you. Arms dropping, hands flopping down by his sides. Lips pursing annoyed he couldn’t bring himself to even touch you. The fact was- you weren’t interested in him. You were another broken girl, crying at his feet over Haechan. Ignoring the stinging pain in his chest, from watching you break down. From knowing why you were in such pain. Who knew either way, Jeno wasn’t going to admit it.
“I can.. take you home..”
His delicate rasp reaches your ears past muffled cries. Pouting, rubbing your palms across wet heated cheeks. Reminding yourself in the back of your mind how you probably looked like shit. The last way you’d prefer for Jeno to see you, not that it mattered.
“Don’t wanna go home..” you sigh into your hands, shoulders shaking trying to control yourself. “Dad’s home..”
Jeno looks around, eyes falling on his bike under a large tree. Shaded from the bright daytime sun. Mouth lifting to one side, he could take you to the diner? The book shop was closed on Sundays to prioritize mass.. or maybe..
“I got a place..” Jeno pulls your wrist. Sad face reveal causing another type of tight clench in his chest. “Come with me.”
Gently leading you toward his bike, unclasping the helmets attached along the back. The memory of riding attached to his back still drawing impure thoughts to your mind. No idea who you even were anymore. Riding around on the back of an attractive boys motorcycle. Losing your virginity in church of all places.
Arms circling around his flat stomach. Jeno smelled nice, clean and fresh. Nothing too strong, your nose tempted to dive in with a deep inhale. Opting to rest your chin on his broad upper back where it dipped down the middle. Not bothering to question where he was going to take you, grateful he even cared.
He cared.
“What is this place?” You cautiously stepped forward. Looking down the ledge of the cliff Jeno had brought you to. Setting the helmets back on the bar attached at the end of his bike.
“I guess I come here to get away.” He shrugs, moving to stand by your side. “Small town, not many places to go. It’s hard when you’ve lived here all your life, everyone thinks they know you..”
“Yea..” guilt gnaws away at your gut. You were no different from everyone else. Like your mother looking at Jeno with preconceived notions, judgement. “It’s hard when you’re the town pastor’s son, I can only imagine..”
“Pft.. cause he’s so innocent. Somehow brain washed everyone into forgetting he cheated, knocked up my mom while still married to Haechan’s..”
“Oh…” scuffing your boots nervously against dirt. Sparing glances Jeno’s way. Chiseled jaw having you ready to swoon like some sad teenager passing her crush in the hallway. Mind so far away distracted, screaming at yourself that Jeno’s trying to have a deep conversation with you. “I didn’t uh…know that about your dad.”
“He just lucked out my mom didn’t tell anyone about the church intern fresh out of high school that she filed divorce papers over..” Jeno says, removing his jacket. Holding it open for you with a questioning look. Your eyes widen, immediately caving in a moment of weakness. Allowing him to drape the material around your shoulders. Fresh scent engulfing your sense of smell.
“You’re really.. nice Jeno. Considering everything, I have to admit I expected you to be more like Haechan..” you express, pulling the jacket around yourself tighter.
“We aren’t that different, growing up together will do that. Someone has to be the scapegoat, unfortunately it’s always me. Typical younger sibling syndrome right?” Jeno rubs his exposed arm, muscle tank revealing bits of tattoo. You nod to his words, unable to picture Jeno and Haechan getting along like two loving brothers.
“Your tattoo… your dad doesn’t know about it right?” You inquire, returning to topic back to Jeno. Ready to forget his brothers existence, at least for the time being.
“Oh yea..he’d probably ship me off to Jerusalem, peace core or some shit.” Jeno laughs, pushing the loose cut off sleeve up. Further exposing the evil creature blaring into your vision.
“Why a demon?”
“Why not right? I lost my faith in religion when my dad kept coming up with new excuses for why his sins were forgiven. God isn’t real anyway.” Jeno finishes. Eyes narrowing, expecting a reaction from you.
“I think you’re right actually..” you nod, softly smiling. Awestruck eyes staring into yours, satisfied. “..I should probably get home. Didn’t even tell my mom I was leaving. She’s gonna be so pissed..”
“Ah yea..can’t have that. She’s pretty intense huh?” Jeno scratches his throat anxiously. The voice in the back of his mind yelling at him to do something now. “..I’ll take you home.”
You take languid drawn out steps together. Tension surging between your bodies like electric shocks. Jeno reaching for his helmet. Fingers hesitating to open the clasp.
“Can I ask you something?” he looks away, teeth digging at his bottom lip. Was that nerves?
“Of course” you promptly respond, bouncing on your toes.
“If Haechan..hadn’t.. I don’t know, gotten to you first..” Jeno cringes. Focusing his eyes on the ground. Ending his curiosity there, struggling with his hope that you’d ever like him.
“What do you mean?” Your brows furrow, moving in, closing the space between your bodies. Jeno’s eyes meet yours, giving away the intent behind his question. “..you..why are you asking? You don’t..”
“It’s nothing, forget it.” Jeno’s head shakes, realization hitting you. Guys like Jeno never gave you the time of day..
“Would you have?” Boldly your hand lands on his, pulling fingers away from the helmet. Still wearing his jacket, could you be more oblivious?
“I wanted to..” those words are all it takes. Pushing up on your toes, lips smashing on his. Fever like heat raising your confidence to go for it. Jeno’s been good to you- the cold demeanor a cover up for how painfully shy you make him.
Hands find your hips, pressing you against the seat of his bike. Ass digging into the warm leather, jacket falling from your shoulders. Jeno kissing you back needy, full of desperation, loud breaths passing through his nose. Finger nails scraping the material of your dress, gathering the fabric up. Skin rubbing on the sun kissed bike under you. He presses in, tongue flicking out, asking for permission to enter. Fisting the cotton shirt on his chest in a wrinkled mess. Mouth parting so fast, too fast. Wet tongues eagerly meeting, rolling against the roof of your mouth.
Jeno’s groans are hot, raspy and deep. Affecting you quickly, sinking back on the bike when his hips roll between your thighs. Hard on tenting angrily in tight jeans. Grinding against your soaking core.
“God I..” Jeno mumbles on your lips, lapping spit across your mouth. His own pouting out cutely, blood tinted lips shining in outdoor light. “I really…whoa..fuck..”
“Jeno..” your arms lift, wrapping around his neck. Bringing your bodies together impossibly close. Pained moan trapped in his throat, thrusting in anguish. Craving to bend you over on his bike, slap your ass and fuck you until you can’t even remember his brothers name.
Jeno’s thumb shoves between your wet mouth, tongue swirling around. Groaning louder with another crushing thrust. Cock screaming for release, working up a faster speed. Demanding movements bouncing you on the bike. Eyes falling shut sucking at his thumb, picturing the length prodding at your walls sitting heavy in your mouth instead. Both of you growing needier with each dry hump against each other. Calves finding Jeno’s hips, lifting yourself up writhing against the hard fabric of his worn jeans.
“You feel so good..fuck..” Jeno captures your upper lip, sucking harshly. Hips growing furious, thigh muscles flexing tightly. Dragging sweet panted moans out of you, thumb opening your mouth. Saliva drooling past both of your lips messily, chins coated in each other.
“Please..” you whimper, pleading. Unsure what you could be begging for. Jeno nods reassuringly, gripping the back of your neck. Hand falling from your mouth, finding space between your legs. Drenched underwear shoved aside, sliding long fingers up and down. Catching your wetness, palm covered, landing loudly on your mound. Jeno finding your clit, pressing down hard. Surprised scream releasing from your chest. Tongue covering your exposed neck, nipping at dips.
“Can I?” Jeno’s fingers prod your opening up entrance. Head nodding rapidly, eyes wide. Gliding past your convulsing walls. Groaned curses repeating from his lips, finding way deep inside of you. Slender pretty hands working you to a heightened pleasure. Jeno continuously licking around your jaw, catching parted lips in bites. Hard enough to leave you a swelling pained mess, lips pursing out asking for more.
He lets your neck go, face dropping, forehead hitting his shoulder. Tattoo coming to life so close up, licking the expanse inked skin. Jeno grits his teeth, whimpering with squeezed eyes. Hand squeezing your hip, fingers jabbing in and out. Thumb circling your clit with expertise, nothing innocent in his touches.
He squirms on your thigh, member begging to fuck you open. Resisting to need for himself, fully focused on getting you off. Enjoying the way your eyes roll, tongue hung out letting your mind succumb to his touches.
Your hips jump up, wriggling into the thrusts of his fingers. Reaching far deep within, hitting every delicious spot. Lips landing together in a bruising sloppy kiss, muffling strained moans. Jeno’s thumb pressing down just right on your clit, precise fingers hitting where you need him in repeated motions. Trembling around him, walls gripping tightly. Jeno’s motions slowing down, letting the climax high wash over you. Softly tracing kisses atop your burning cheeks, staggering down to your neck. Soft nips turning into hard bites, leaving marks of himself behind.
“I..” Jeno’s forehead rolls over yours, skin dragging against his. Nose nudging gently at you, nerves still clouding his sense. Hard breaths landing on your face, eyes finding yours, mind returning back to you. “I want.. I like you.. I need…..I want..to take you out, like…date out...”
You nod a bit too excited, nose hitting his. Jeno’s stressed words making you clench up around his fingers yet again. Another pained groan blended into a sigh sounding around you. “I want that so bad Jeno.. I really want you.”
—————————————————————————-
“What brings you in to confession today?”
Pastor Lee’s voice sounds through the small wooden booth around you. Uncomfortably shifting in your seat when the reality of confessing your sins to the one who brought them into this world settles.
“Pastor… what does the bible say about pre-marital sex with two brothers?”
“At the same time?!” Pastor Lee spits out abruptly, gagging on his spit.
“Separately Pastor!” You shriek out. Fingers stopping your lips, wondering if Pastor would recognize your voice. It’s not as if you spent time speaking to each other much..
“Well..” Pastor Lee’s throat clears, adjusting the collar tightening around his neck. “That’s..good to hear. Are you planning to wed one of these men?”
“Wed?! Like marry?” Your forehead creases, thinking it over. It was way too early to even consider such a thing. “I’m not pregnant pastor!”
“That’s…that’s good news my child.” Pastor audibly swallows. Sweat gathering at his hairline. “You..wish to know what the bible has to say about this?
“Am I going to hell if I choose to…have intercourse with both of them? I’ve only slept with one..”
“Only?” The pastor sounds flabbergasted. Gulping down another loud breath of air. “You won’t go to..hell over this. You need to repent for your mistakes none the less. God is good, and forgiving.”
“So, I’m not going to hell right?” Your frazzled tone sounds around the booth. Growing frustrated the longer he skirts around your questions.
“Yes my child, of course God does, but!-…”
“….God forgives all right? Like…God will love and forgive me even if I do happen to…somehow…you know..fornicate with uhm..” you chew on your thumb nail, catching yourself ready to say- ‘your sons’. “..siblings?”
Pastor Lee becomes frantic on the other side of the confessional booth. Fingers quickly turning through thin pages of his bible. Murmuring sounds of ‘uhm’ between, buying extra time to find an explainable excuse for why you absolutely should not do such a thing.
“Now my child.. yes God loves you, of course. I cannot say he would approve of you doing this! What about the brothers bond you could end up destroying?? That would be greed and lust! Those are sins child, sins!” Pastor Lee exasperates. Patting a handkerchief along his sweating forehead. Small towns hardly ever brought him confessions this extreme.
“Pastor, did you not have sex out of wedlock once too?.. more than once! With two different women! Does God approve of that?” You sit up straight. Hand slapping over your mouth after speedily replying. Shit, God probably didn’t care much for this conversation, that’s for damn sure..
“Child of God! now..” the pastor continues, avoiding your accusations. “Are you going to go through with this regardless of what excerpt from the bible I give you?”
“Yes father…I believe so..I really like this guy..” you timidly say. The thought that the pastor could have you in mind making your stomach turn.
“Well then..” with a heavy dissatisfied sigh, Pastor Lee continues. “Twenty hail Marys and Fifty our fathers should do it.”
“Fifty?!” your mouth falls open, disbelief stricken by the idea of sitting here for the next three hours repeating prayers.
“Make that seventy child. Ten for each seven deadly sin.”
You pause for a moment, hand on the door knob ready to exit. Mouth gaped considering asking what the bible says about losing your virginity in church. A minute of contemplation later, you decide it’s best to add another fifty hail Mary’s.
“Thank you so much Pastor Lee!”
——————————————————————————
It felt a little scary, but fun, getting ready for your date with Jeno. Of course you still wanted to leave an impression, even with his confession.
Repeating it in your mind over and over again: A. Date. With. Jeno.
Holy fucking shit. What alternative universe had you stumbled into moving to live here. Maybe the best way to get over someone really was by getting under someone else…younger brother and all. God had to be real if this was how your love life was playing out.
Walking up to Jeno, he was a complete vision. Black messy hair pointing different directions, as if he just ruffled it and said ‘good enough’. Leather jacket all too tight over his defined rippling biceps, like a second skin. Silver chain necklaces shining under the sunset across the orange red sky behind him. Hoops adorning his ears making the sparkle in his eyes come to life. The large steel ball chain necklace catching your eye against his pale thick neck. Imagining him on top of you coated in a sheen of sweat. Cold chains dangling down on your skin..
“Isn’t this… your brothers car?!?” Your eyes nearly bulge out of sockets asking the question. Drawn out of the quick fantasy you’d almost drifted into. The cherry black trans am practically glowing behind Jeno.
“It is, isn’t it..” Jeno’s smile lifts into his eyes. Fingers waving around a set of keys mid-air. “Who do you think Haechan learned how to pick pocket from? Still no match to the king.”
Jeno unlocks the car, opening up the passenger door for you. Surprising you first with his tattoos.. now this. Maybe he wasn’t the innocent cute younger brother you’d perceived him as all this time.
The engine sounded alive, Jeno pulling out of your driveway. Better looking than any heart throb you’d see on some terrible basic cable teen drama. Arm reaching around the space between your bodies. Other stretched in front of him. Long fingers attached to pretty veins flexing around the spinning steering wheel. All he had to do was grab your thigh to set you bursting up in flames. Stealing subtle looks at him picturing the tattoo adorning his perfectly sculpted shoulder.
“Haechan doesn’t know you borrowed his car I’m guessing? Won’t he be mad?” You wonder out loud. Jeno’s smile spreading into his cheeks. Eyes squinting under the low sun coming through the windshield. Relaxed in the drivers seat making way down the empty road. Arm closest to you splaying out, fingers wrapping around your exposed leg. Shivers shooting up your heat from where his large palm covers the majority of your visible mid-thigh.
“That’s the plan.”
Final—>
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