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#45% chance fic
antilocaprine · 1 year
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I got an anon ask that wondered if I had any plans to continue this prompt fill, which is an AU of my already-an-AU Among Us/HLVRAI crossover Some Stars Are Not Enough. This is the result. (You don’t have to read Some Stars to get this, but you should read the prompt fill linked above, since this picks up right where that leaves off.)
45% Chance
The ship groans around Benrey as he sprints through the corridors. This time, he’s literally going through them - with no humans left on the ship, he’s free to clip through the structure. It slows him down a touch, since he needs to make sure nothing is exposed to the vacuum of space before he steps into it, but he’s got all his senses flared out like a net, his form warping into a dish-like shape with limbs in order to catch all the information he can get before he reaches the lab and the spacewalking suits.
Something cracks on the other side of the bulkhead he was just about to cross into and he jukes to the right, pounding through several hissing pipes and another bulkhead. He stumbles out into the lab and steps sideways to get himself free of the bed he’d walked into. Casting a frantic glance around, he lunges for the spacesuits and wrenches them out of their cabinet, breaking the door lock so he can pull them free. 
The lock floats by his face and he pauses to stare at it, then at the rest of the room. The lab is a mess of floating jars and colorful liquids that are coalescing into wobbly balls, drifting aimlessly through the air. The gravity is failing, and that means the second reactor is close to failing, too. Benrey moves faster.
There isn’t enough time to try to rig the suits together. Benrey jams himself into the biggest one, which will allow him to keep his own suit on with its auxiliary oxygen pack. However, that means he’s down to two arms and two legs - the spacewalking suits weren’t designed to change with him.
The screaming alarms rise in pitch and distort, then fall silent with a strangled chime. Benrey whips his head around and listens. There is a faint whine coming from the rear of the ship, which is now below him - he had to brace himself against the wall to get into the suit in the failing gravity. The reactor is going, and he’s running out of time.
He’s not really sure what his plan was beyond this. He’s in a suit that will give him four hours of oxygen on top of the two hours of oxygen his own everyday suit contains. (The people who sent them on this mission - the humans, not the Supervisors - figured if something in the ship broke and they lost oxygen for over two hours, it wasn’t going to be fixed. Why waste resources?) Benrey’s own, ahem, unique physiology means that he can use the same amount of oxygen for about twice as long as a human. It’s still probably not going to be enough.
The ship groans in protest of what’s happening to it. Benrey feels a bit bad - it’s not the ship’s fault it was chosen for a mission that was doomed to fail. They’re all just playing pieces in a bigger game that none of them know the rules to. It’s not fair - but what is?
Gordon’s shocked face flashes through Benrey’s mind, and he takes a sharp breath. He shouldn’t leave it like that. If there’s any way to get back to them - 
Probably not quite a 45% chance, now. Maybe 20%, at least? Benrey’s not great at calculations, but he can probably swing 20%.
The ship screams and something wrenches. Suddenly, half of it falls quiet.
“Hull breach,” Benrey hisses. “Fuck.”
He shoves the huge spacewalking helmet between his legs, locking his ankles around it. Upside down in the far corner of the lab, he pulls his torso out of the spacewalking suit and shoves more arms out, catching the walls and ripping them free. Rivets ping loose and tumble through the air as Benrey curls the walls around himself. He doesn’t need a lot of room - just enough space to keep all the suits folded inside with their fresh caches of oxygen. The tricky part will be getting a solid enough seal to maintain the atmosphere with no gaskets and no external bulkheads.
Unless…Benrey glances up through the narrowing space above his head. If he can reach the right wall panel, then maybe he could get a secondary layer. He’ll have to move quickly, though. Already he can hear cracks forming in the nearby bulkheads.
The vacuum is closing in.
 *   *   *
“Dad? Shouldn’t you put your helmet back on?”
Joshua’s voice is shaky, and Gordon snaps back to himself. He’d been floating away, his eyes on the porthole window of the escape pod that is rocketing away from the stricken spaceship.
“Yeah - yes, right.” He shoves the helmet back on and engages the locks with a hiss. Then his eyes flick to the control panel and he curses. 45% oxygen? That must be what Benrey saw, what made him back out. Just Gordon and Joshua will be okay, but adding another adult would have shortened their conscious time by a potentially lethal amount.
“Is Benrey gonna be okay?”
The pod is traveling on a surprisingly straight path, and Gordon can still see the ship. The pod must be rotating - or the ship is, because it’s tilting nose-down in the porthole view. He finds himself thinking about terrestrial ships sinking at sea.
“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Gordon reassures his son, though his voice is strangled.
He feels like he’s going insane. Benrey kissed him. What the fuck?
“Oh. Okay.” Josh looks around, but the jumpseat harness keeps him from moving too much. “Where’re we going?”
Gordon glances back at the control screen. “The pods are all - uh, they’re programmed to rendezvous with each other to form a raft. Then they’ll send out a distress signal, and someone will pick us up.”
“Okay.” Josh kicks his feet. “Um. How long?”
“It depends, buddy. Might be in ten minutes or two hours, or tomorrow.” Or a week, but Gordon isn’t going to mention that. Hopefully someone had gotten off a long-range distress signal from the ship’s transmitter while he and Joshie were locked in the stargazing room. Otherwise they’ll be at the mercy of interplanetary shipping schedules. All the planet-to-planet people transfers are limited to once a month, and they certainly don’t have enough air to hold out that long.
“Okay,” Joshua says, sounding preoccupied.
Gordon knows that tone. He tilts his helmet against the shoulder harness to look over at his kid. “You have to go to the bathroom, don’t you?”
Joshua nods. 
Gordon sighs and checks the control panel. “Can you hold it for ten more minutes? We’re supposed to dock with the rest of the raft then, and after that you can get up and use the cubicle.”
“Can I go now?”
“No. If we get knocked around by something you could get hurt.”
“Okay,” Joshie sighs, and Gordon stretches himself up to peer back at the ship, now inverted in the pod’s window.
It looks…weird. Some sort of vapor is coming off the snout, and it’s tilting away from the wispy trail.
Gordon breathes in sharply through his nose. That’s atmosphere. The ship is venting atmosphere, which means there’s a hull breach, which means -
“Shit,” he swears under his breath.
“Huh?”
“Nothing!”
Joshua seems like he’s ready to protest, but Gordon holds a hand up. “I’m - watching the numbers, okay?”
Apparently that sounds boring enough to satisfy Joshua, and he ducks his chin and pats his legs in an off-kilter drumbeat.
Through the window, the ship cracks in half. 
Gordon’s muscles are so tense his vision is starting to darken around the edges. His heartbeat is pounding in his ears, and he forces himself to breathe steadily as he watches the front half of the ship droop, then disconnect from the back half. A burst of debris is expelled from what must be the cargo hold - Gordon clinically picks out chairs, gas cans, crates, and tables.
He doesn’t see another pod. He’s not sure there were any left. Benrey was bunking with Tommy, and Tommy’s pod is blinking in the image of the raft on the control panel, so that means that, unless someone else hopped into that pod and left their own, Benrey’s trapped on the dying ship.
He must have a plan, Gordon’s sure of it. He must. There’s no way he would have sent Gordon and Joshua away without having a plan - right?
But he’d kissed Gordon. And it felt like a goodbye. It feels more and more like a goodbye with every passing second, as Gordon watches the field of debris expand into the vacuum of space. 
“Dad, can I -”
Gordon can’t pay attention to what Joshua says, because at that moment, the ship explodes.
It should make noise, he finds himself thinking wildly. It should be making a sound, or there should be a shockwave that hits the pod and sends it spinning. But this is the void of space, and all there is is a bloom of terrible light that obscures the intact rear half of the ship. When it clears - fire can’t live without oxygen - the entire stern of the ship is so much blackened debris, scattered chunks of bulkhead tumbling away in all directions. Without air resistance, their momentum will keep them going practically forever. Maybe someday, one of them will end up crashing through the atmosphere of the planet the ship came from. Maybe someday, some tiny remnant of their vessel will find its way home.
The pod’s transmitter crackles with static. “...Freeman! Mr. Freeman? Can you hear me? Mr. Freeman, come in!”
Gordon reaches out and hits the transponder button with numb fingers. “I can hear you, Tommy,” he says, voice hollow. “Can you see -”
He can’t finish, but luckily Tommy doesn’t need him to. “We saw it. You’ll connect, um, you’ll be docking with us in just a second.”
Sure enough, a heavy clunk sounds through the bulkhead behind Gordon’s jumpseat, and the whole pod shudders. Some sense of motion that he hadn’t even noticed ceases. He twists his head around, but he can’t see past the helmet, and there’s no window back there, anyway. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He doesn’t know what to think.
“Fucking finally,” Forzen’s voice snaps through the static. “What took you so long?”
“We were trapped,” Gordon rasps. “On the observation deck. The doors locked on us.”
Several voices clamor at that, but Gordon can’t pick any of them out.
“Dad!” Joshua whispers. “Can I go to the bathroom?”
“Yeah - yeah, go ahead.” Gordon unclips his own harness at the same time as Joshie does, but he kicks away from the jumpseat and plasters himself against the window.
In the distance, the ship continues to drift apart.
Tommy’s voice cuts through the chaos. “Mr. Freeman, is Benrey with you? He’s not showing up on the scans.”
Gordon swallows. “No,” he chokes out, then stops. What else can he say? They already know he’s not with any of the others.
“Oh,” Tommy replies, and then he, too, falls silent.
“So…maybe he’s the one who sabotaged the ship,” Forzen says after a moment, and Gordon’s vision whites out. Luckily, several other voices are jumping to Benrey’s defense, Dr. Coomer and Bubby flinging curses over the channel and Darnold’s voice trying to call for calm.
“It wasn’t him.” When Tommy speaks, the others go quiet. “One person couldn’t do that. Watch - look at it! It was broken from the start.”
The others go quiet, and Gordon’s throat is hot and thick with grief and fury as he looks at the desolation. Benrey was supposed to get out of that. How could he just kiss Gordon, push him away, and then - and then die?
How dare he?
“I got a signal out before the, um, the ship’s communications went down,” Tommy continues. “My - um, I mean, we should be getting picked up soon.”
“How soon is soon, my dear Tommy?” Dr. Coomer’s normally jovial voice is tight.
“Um, really soon.”
Light blooms across the pod window again, and Gordon flinches back, squinting into the glare. This isn’t the dirty yellow-orange glow of an explosion - this is the clean white light of a spaceship.
“Is that a courier?” Forzen’s tone is disbelieving. “Is that a fucking courier? Who the fuck heard you and has the clearance to re-route a fucking courier -”
His voice cuts out with a screech of static. 
Please stand by, the courier says in a gentle voice. You will be relocated shortly.
“Dad?” Joshie has finally emerged from the tiny restroom cubicle, and pulls himself along the wall to reach Gordon. “Who’s that?”
“It’s a courier,” Gordon says blankly. “They’re - living ships, with a mind and everything. They’re the fastest commercial vessel in the quadrant.”
Joshua peers through the window at Gordon’s shoulder and gasps. “Is that our ship?”
“Um-”
“But where’s Benrey?” Joshie twists around to look up at Gordon in distress and ends up knocking himself loose from the wall. Gordon catches him as he floats by upside down. Zero-G is weird. “He was supposed to follow us - you’re supposed to get married!”
“What?” Gordon sputters, completely derailed.
“He kissed you, so he has to marry you!”
“He did WHAT?!” Several voices shout in unison from the control panel.
“Fuck,” Gordon swears vehemently. He’d thought the courier had cut them off, but apparently it had just overriden their speakers for a moment. “Uh - nothing! It’s not - it doesn’t…matter.”
He clenches his teeth and listens to the others yelling at him. 
“Is Benrey okay?” Joshua whispers.
Gordon bites the inside of his cheek. “I don’t know,” he says quietly, even though he does know. No one could have survived that explosion. Hell, he’d probably been killed when the ship broke in half and started venting atmosphere. 
He’s probably been killed.
The pod shudders, and Gordon’s boots hit the floor with a clank. He curses and stumbles, juggling a suddenly-heavy Joshua, and they both nearly fall before the gravity slips and they tumble weightlessly up into the air again.
My apologies, the courier says calmly. Please be seated for relocation.
“Shit - sorry! Let’s strap in, Joshie.” Gordon kicks off the wall and fumbles them both into their jumpseats, fastening Joshie’s harness, then his own. He looks over at the control screen to see that the raft of pods has detached and is rising in a steady line into the bright spot of the courier above them. 
Are you fully secured? The courier sounds slightly tetchy. 
“Yes - sorry, yes, we’re strapped in,” Gordon replies, and the weightless feeling disappears as the courier pulls them into line. On the control screen, Gordon can see the first two pods already vanishing into the courier’s cargo hold.
Thank you, the courier replies blandly. Gordon catches a glimpse of the vessel’s hull as the pod passes by, and it is just as sleek and white as the advertisements make it seem. Then the hold encases them and his view of space is cut off by the darkness of the ship’s interior.
The pod slows, then settles with a clank as some sort of mag-locks catch it with a hum. The view outside the window spins, then flips, and then Gordon can see two other pods facing him across the open hold.
Please remain seated and secured while retrieval continues, the courier says.
“Continues? Who’s missing?” Tommy asks. “Mr. Freeman?”
“We’re here,” Gordon replies. One by one, the rest of the crew responds.
There is one more signal to retrieve, the courier says.
Gordon freezes. “Who is it? Can you hear -”
One moment, please, while the signal is boosted. The courier sounds tired already.
Static buzzes, then resolves into the monotone beeping of a spacewalking suit’s emergency beacon. 
“No fucking way,” Forzen growls, but even his bad attitude isn’t enough to keep Gordon’s heart from lifting in his chest. 
The beeping stops. And now that Gordon thinks about it, it hadn’t sounded like an actual machine beeping so much as someone saying “beep beep” in the same tone as the emergency beacon.
He takes a breath, and hopes. “Benrey? Is that you? Can - can you hear me?”
“Uh…beep…beep…nope…beep…”
Gordon laughs in disbelief. “I heard that! Where are you? What happened? Are you okay?”
Fifty-three meters and closing, the courier says. Then it says, What is THAT?
“Uh…I’m fine, I'm in a burrito. Beep.”
“You don’t have to keep saying ‘beep,’ you idiot, we can hear you,” Bubby bursts in.
“Oh hey, cool, everyone’s here.”
“What happened to you?” Bubby snaps. “The ship blew up!”
“Yeah,” Benrey hums. “That was…kinda sucks.”
Stand by for relocation, the courier says.
“Can’t really stand, bro,” Benrey replies over the comms. “There’s, uh…no gravity out here.”
Please be secured for relocation, the courier tries.
“Yeah, this, uh, burritos’s not very secure.”
“Why the fuck do you keep saying you’re in a burrito?” Gordon laughs. Just hearing Benrey’s voice is filling his chest with bubbles.
“It’s a metal burrito,” Benrey replies, as if that’s supposed to make any sense.
The courier apparently gives up. Just don’t move, it tells him.
“Sure,” Benrey says easily. “No controls on this thing.”
The object that rises into the hold a few moments later defies explanation. It’s a long cylinder of metal that’s rolled up and twisted around itself at least twice like some sort of giant soot-smeared pirouette cookie. One end is blown open like a cartoon cigar, and it’s from that end that a battered spacewalking helmet pops out.
“You look like a weasel in a cardboard tube,” Bubby says.
“Thanks,” Benrey mumbles over the comms, and attempts to pull himself free.
What are you doing? the courier says sharply. Remain seated - remain still - stop MOVING.
“Kinda busy,” Benrey says as his makeshift pod spins. The spacewalking suits have darkened helms, but Gordon can see his head turning as he peers at each pod. “Where’s Freeman?”
“Over here!” Joshie bounces up in front of Gordon to wave through the porthole, and Gordon yelps and swipes his kid out of the air.
Can none of you follow orders? the courier asks in apparent exasperation as it closes its hull doors.
“Not - not really,” Tommy replies. The courier sends a burst of static over the comms in a machine version of a sigh. 
Pressurizing atmosphere, the courier says, then it says, Seal lock. Atmosphere present. Gravity is not available at this time. For your safety, please remain seated.
“Fuck that,” Benrey mutters, half-out of his handmade pod and spinning around upside down. He seems to be hung up on the bulky spacewalking oxygen tanks.
Yeah, Gordon agrees. Fuck that. He plonks Joshua down into his own seat and straps him in. “Stay here, okay? I’ll be back when it’s safe to grab you.”
Joshua tries to protest, but Gordon is already keying in the sequence to check the outside conditions and open the pod door. The pod seems to open almost sulkily, and Gordon tumbles out and kicks off the hull in a trajectory he hopes will send him colliding with Benrey.
He almost misses, but Benrey flings out an arm and Gordon snags the oversized spacewalking suit’s glove. They spin together and smack into each other, and Gordon kicks his feet down and engages the mag-locks on his heels, slamming his boot soles onto the floor of the hull.
Someone is applauding on the comms, but Gordon isn’t listening. He needs to see Benrey’s face. He frees one hand to wrestle at the clasps of the spacewalk suit’s neck, popping them loose with a series of clicks. Once it’s free, he bats it away and it tumbles lazily through the air, fetching up against one of the pod windows.
“Hey, I can’t see!” Forzen barks.
Benrey’s eyes are golden, with a red ring around the outside of the pupil, and they glow. Gordon always figured it was just a bodymod, but now he wonders. The explosion certainly couldn’t have rolled this sheet of metal up so neatly. And Benrey had talked about “humans” like he wasn’t one.
“Hey,” Benrey smiles lazily, sticking sideways out of his horizontal tube. He reaches out with the massive, clunky spacewalk glove and taps at Gordon’s helmet. “Off, please?”
Gordon pulls Benrey’s other hand down and fastens it to his waist so he can reach up with both hands and pull his helmet off. He feels his hair float up behind him, and Benrey’s grin widens, his glowing eyes crinkling at the corners. He wiggles and pulls his free hand out of the heavy exo-suit’s shoulders to flick his own visor up so he can lean forward, but Gordon is already pushing in to meet his lips.
This time, he closes his eyes and kisses back. This time, he savors the touch of Benrey’s chapped lips, feels the rush of air against his cheek as Benrey inhales sharply through his nose and presses harder into the kiss.
The comms are a cacophony of whistling and clapping, cut through with Forzen complaining that his view is still blocked and asking for someone to describe what’s happening. Gordon leans back and opens his eyes. Benrey looks concussed, slowly rotating in his “burrito” until he is nearly vertical, with his head facing down. Gordon snorts and pulls his helmet back on.
Please do not engage in dramatic emotional moments in my hold, the courier says. Save that for the private rooms.
Benrey blinks several times. “You, uh, have private rooms?”
Of course. 
“Can I, uh, request - oh, hey, where are you going?”
Gordon had started to pull away, but Benrey tugs him back with the grip on his waist. Gordon is suddenly very angry again.
“I’m going to get my kid, Benrey, so he can see that you’re alive. The ship blew up, dude! We thought - I thought you’d died.” His voice cracks awkwardly. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Bubby squeeze out of his own pod, muttering something about claustrophobia. Dr. Coomer soon follows, and Darnold joins them with a sigh, tapping something into his wrist panel.
“Oh…well, I’m okay, see?” Benrey spreads his arms, then has to grab Gordon’s waist again to keep from rotating away.
Gordon reaches out and smacks his shoulder, hard enough to knock him loose. “You’re an asshole,” he snaps. “What the fuck was your plan?”
Benrey’s makeshift pod bounces off the ceiling and starts to descend again. “Oh…you know.” He pulls both arms out of the exo-suit and wiggles himself free, kicking off from the metal tube, which flies like a javelin straight at Dr. Coomer. Dr. Coomer catches it and flings it away, where it slams into Forzen’s pod just as the door opens, knocking him back inside with an inarticulate curse.
“No, I don’t know, dude,” Gordon growls. “Enlighten me.”
Very suddenly, Benrey is in front of Gordon, both hands on his helmet. Gordon’s own hands snap up to keep him from pulling it off - but he’s not doing that. He’s holding down the comm button, which means they’re on a private, proximity-based channel.
Benrey leans in close, golden eyes flashing intensely. The red ring around the outside seems to be growing. “The plan was to keep you alive,” he says quietly. “Mission fucking accomplished, huh?”
Then he presses a smacking kiss against the curve of Gordon’s helmet and flicks his visor back down, pushing away from Gordon and corkscrewing through the air with a shout of “TOMMY! Did you see that explosion? Fucking sick, right?”
Please be warned that this hold is equipped with liquid water hoses, if their use becomes necessary, the courier says pleasantly. 
“Uh - sorry,” Gordon waves a hand. “Won’t happen again.”
Please refrain from lying, the courier says.
Gordon ducks his head and clomps across the hold, heading back to his pod so he can release his child, who will probably immediately attach himself to Benrey and ignore Gordon for the rest of the cycle. He can’t win.
But then again…
He pauses and glances up at Benrey and Sunkist spiraling around each other, the giant dog apparently perfectly accustomed to moving in zero-G. The other crew members stand or float below, commiserating and complaining, but miraculously alive.
Then again, maybe he’s already won.
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aenslem · 6 months
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okay i did not expect that i will be SO into young and rush when i decided to finish sgu 10 years later since i dropped it after s1, but now all i wanna do is read all the fanfiction i can find and rewatch it
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im gonna yell
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genderqueer-karma · 1 year
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imagine being 50 years old with a toddler… could NOT be me…
(of course this isn’t saying that people who have kids later in life are weird or evil or anything. i just weep at the thought of starting all that shit when your life is probably already stable and calm… yikes…)
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winterarmyy · 10 months
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Welcome home... Soldat? | Part I
That time when Bucky accidentally relapsed into the Winter Soldier.
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Summary: Y/N had make a habit of greeting Bucky a warm 'welcome home' everytime he came back from his missions, but there was one particular day when she unknowingly greeted someone else.
Navigation: Part I || Part II* || Part III (end) || Extra
Words: 2.9k++
Pairing: winter soldier!bucky x female!reader
Warnings: implied 18+ content, implied smut, dubious con on groping reader's body, dark(?) possessive behaviour, google translated russian, our soldat is kinda cute(?) in his own twisted way, and well, basically fluffy times with the soldat.
P/S: Guys, I never planned this at all. I mean, who am I kidding? All of my fics are not planned and I clearly write things out of impulse. Therefore, this one don't have much of a story building/plot because it was born out of one scene that flashed in my head and has been replayed way to many times that I need to let it out. Anyway, I still hope you enjoy it, somehow.
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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Y/N didn't know when exactly she started this habit but she swore to herself to never grow out of it.
It's been nearly 2 years since the fall of Hydra and the avenger has accepted the winter soldier under their wing. Begrudgingly by Tony, but the rest of them seemed like they're not against it.
Y/N used to be an agent from SHIELD but since the fall, she had been recruited under the avenger's programme and had been living in the tower since.
She remembered the day when Bucky first came in, he was quiet and weary all the time. Like an abandoned cat, picked up by a stranger to come to their home. And it took the whole team months before he slowly adapted.
Who knew he would morphed into a sassy, grumpy little shit, right?
Since the first day, Y/N had been making an effort to make him feel welcomed. Helped him to adjust to modern times. Though it was not regular but she's glad he came to her from time to time to ask about things.
Y/N only meant it to be casual when she greeted him back from his missions. Usually, it'll be something like,
"Oh you're back?"
"How's the team?"
"Good to see you well put together from such horrendous mission."
"God, you look like you fell from 5 flight of stairs."
"Are you even trying to fight back, Bucky?"
But one time, Bucky came back in the morning around breakfast, she wasn't feeling sassy or clever. So, instead of greeting him with playful remarks, in the glory of her messy bed hair and iron man pyjamas, she greeted him with a sleepy smile, "Welcome home, Bucky."
And that surely made the 6 foot, bulky hunk of a soldier paralysed in his spot. His ocean blues slightly widen, and his cheeks deepen in blush.
For a moment, he wondered if this is how he would feel if he had a wife waiting for him to come back from war back in the 40's. But, then again nothing can be compared to the sight he was seeing as he is now.
And Y/N didn't want to ever lose that memory of him.
Cute and flustered Bucky is a very rare sight to see. Perhaps, this was the only time she could witness it and she want to cherish it for the rest of her life.
Though Bucky never replied to Y/N's greeting, it didn't stop them from starting a whole new routine.
Y/N always knew that she had a thing for the sargent, but about 2 months from that moment, Y/N realized she was in love.
And she waited for him, every single chance she had for arrival of the team to come back. Just like she is now, at 03:45 in the morning, while scavenging for something sweet she can eat as she waits for Bucky's return.
When, she turned around she was not expecting to have her face into clashed into something, "Oww!" Y/N shuts her eyes close as she rubbed her aching nose to ease the sharp strike of pain.
For a moment there, she seriously thought she might have just bumped into some kind of a solid air that appeared out of nowhere, but when she opened her eyes, it was just Bucky who was standing rather ominously still.
"My god, you scared the shit out of me. I know you used to be an assassin but, you gotta announce yourself sometimes, man." She joked. Although she did find it impressive that he managed to silently sneak up on her with those thick, heavy combat boots he was wearing.
"Woah, someone's been having a field day kicking your ass, huh?" Y/N's eyes lingered a little longer on the wounds at the side of his temple that she didn't notice the void in his eyes.
"Anyway..." she continued as she shook of the thoughts of caressing the cut on the corner of Bucky's lip, before greeting him with a gentle smile, "Welcome home."
Bucky's unresponsiveness was nothing new to her. With the amount of silent glares and gruff eye-rolls that he had shot at her these past few months, she's used to it by now.
But, when she finally had the guts to look him in the eye, only then she noticed the underlying shift. Albeit, his signature frown was still as present as ever but, those eyes had made her questioned of the slight difference from what she recognized.
Bucky wordlessly step forward and cornered her until her back meets the side of the kitchen isle. He took his time assessing her, almost admiring the way her iris wavered in confusion.
Something is wrong.
Her guts were screaming at her to notice it but her body wasn't reacting accordingly. That's when the voice of the AI, Jarvis echoed through the walls.
"Emergency alert: Code Winter. Initiated by Captain Steve Rogers. All agent is advised..." The announcement went on based on protocol while the cogs in Y/N's brain finally moved, "Code Winter? That means..."
 "...to be cautious of Sargent James Barnes; reprimand on sight however try not to engage alone. Agents is..." Jarvis voice in the background interwoven with Y/N's internal deduction, "...This is not Bucky?"
As she tried to put her own mind into perspective, trying to make herself believe that this man in front of her is not Bucky Barnes who she had been adoring over for these past few months, the soldat's hands reached the side of her neck, squeezing the softness of her flesh while his thumbs grazed the shape of her jawline.
His heavy gaze remained on hers, willing her to stay as still possible.
"Bucky...?" She called his name in hopes of triggering something, anything for within his controlled mind.
At end of the corridor leading towards the kitchen, Steve could see how the soldat had already gotten his hands on Y/N and panic strike him like lightning, he sprinted towards her as he despretely shouted, "Y/N! Stay away from--"
But Y/N was not able to render anything she heard from Steve, especially after a long silence, the soldat finally spoke, "Yes, I'm home..."
He carefully pulled her face closer to his as his lips planted on her soft cheek, "...мое cолнышко (my sunshine)" he lifted for a second just to kiss her again on her temple as he whispered lowly, "...мое Родная (my darling)"
Y/N's heart was beating madly for several different reasons. Parts of her was terrified that the soldat might break her neck within an instance, but it gradually changes into something much more confusing, a conflicted joy, when he keep on trailing his lips all over her face.
What is happening?
Both her and Steve was practically frozen in pure confusion.
Steve's mouth hanged open as words failed to form, while Y/N was unable to comprehend any sort of thoughts, let alone counter movements; when the soldat continue to whisper Russian endearments against her skin, littering sweet kisses on every part of her face, except for her lips as if he wanted to tease her.
His hands slowly travel down her back and stopped on the side of her waist, pulling her body closer until there was no space in between them anymore, before he wrapped his arms around her.
The drag of his stubble on her skin burned but it felt so good when he kissed it after.
Seconds later, Sam managed to catch up with Steve and his cautious approach fell as he witnessed the soldat's rather domestic actions towards Y/N.
Sam foolishly let his guard down as he approached with a question directed to Steve, "Is the tin man back?" That was when a bullet barely grazed the tip of his ear that then buried through the wall behind him.
Both Steve and Sam forced to stop any sort of movement as the soldat's aim was still locked towards their direction; his cold blue eyes pierced with a menacing warning, all the while posessively holding Y/N in his arms as his kisses trailed the side of her neck.
"Nope, not yet." Sam answered his own question as he waited for Steve's order.
Y/N felt like she have to do something to de-escalate the situation. After a quick deduction, and based on the soldat attitude towards her, she took the risk of believing that he would not do anything to hurt her, so she decided to play along.
Will it work though?
Well, she got to have to try for it work.
She gulped nervously before softly calls for him, "Soldat?" she looked up towards him.
When the soldat gave her his attention, she watched the loose strand of his hair fall down to his face. Her hand went up and reached for it, "How about we go back to your room and let me tend these wounds, hmm?" She cooed while tucking his behind his ear and briefly caressing his cheek with the back of her fingers.
The soldat didn't reply but instead silently process her proposition.
However, the hesitation only worried her more, so she continued to persuade, as she cautiously slide her hand, following his arm that was holding her teammates at gun point, "It'll be just the two of us. How's that sound?" She smiled warmly at him as she managed to lower it enough to grab the gun away from his grasp.
There was a glint of indecipherable emotion in his eyes when she mentioned that, which then he nodded in agreement.
"Okay then, let's go." She put the gun on the kitchen isle behind her and replaced her hand in his, pulling him towards his bedroom. The soldat did not protest to her lead, in fact her followed her obediently.
But before Y/N makes an exit, she looked back towards Steve and mouthed a reassuring message, "I got this."
The captain had all the rights to be weary but at this point, he just had to believe in Y/N's action plan. He nodded and replied, "Be safe. We'll be outside."
Along the walk towards Bucky's room, all she could think was that she can handle it and she got this under control.
But, does she?
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Well, Y/N did have it under control, in terms of keeping the soldat from going on a berserk rampage but what she didn't think through was how the fuck she should handle his behaviour towards her.
After they arrived to Bucky's room, she had instructed him to strip off his tactical suit and leave him sitting at the edge of the bed, only in his short to avoid him reaching for any hidden weapons he had, all the while she went to grab the first aid from his bathroom.
Now that she almost done tending the small injuries on his face, it finally dawned to her that the soldat had her immobilized in between his legs as his hands rubbed the back of her thighs, occasionally squeezing the softness of her body in his tender grip.
His intent gaze waited patiently for her to finish and as soon as she did, he pulled her on his lap, making her to straddle on top him as he smushed his face on her chest, "Oh, Родная (darling)... I have missed you."
Her hands found her balance on his shoulders while the soldat roaming hands held her body still by the back of her waist.
It will be a lie if she said her heart didn't skipped when he confessed; even if it was still the soldat's thoughts and words but it was Bucky's voice.
The soldat pulled his other hand to play with the buttons of her pyjamas shirt, specifically around her chest area.
Part of him wanted to just rip her clothes off from her body but another part of him didn't want to. He didn't want scare her; and his precious little darling deserved to be pampered.
He had her buttons popped off; one by one, slow and almost sensual while Y/N was still in a heated debate with herself on what she should to next. She wanted the soldat to stop but god the temptation of wanting more was beyond her will power.
This is not Bucky.
She knew that. But, she had been bewitched by the look in those familiar blue eyes. So enthralled and so keen to unwrap her.
Y/N let out a low yet sharp gasp as her chest was finally revealed, "Soldat, what..." The soldat take a quick glance into her eyes, "...are you doing?" before trailing back down to the curve of her breasts, cupped so beautifully with a simple black bra.
His hands went back to grabbed her thighs as he replied, "Just wanna hold you." He leaned closer and left a lingering kiss in between her breasts, mumbling deep, " Wanna feel you, мое Родная (my darling)"
Fuck, it feels so good.
"Wanna feel you..." Y/N's grip on his bare shoulder tightened as he lips warmed the top of her right breast, "...here." An unexpected moan slipped out of her lips as the soldat latched his wet mouth on her skin, bruising it with his mark.
He groaned to the taste of her, so sweet and soft, he wanted to pull the bra off her and suckle on her nipple. He bet that they're perky and so sensitive. Bet he could make her cum just by playing with them.
He wanted to leave his bite mark around them, make them look much more prettier. But, he needed to be patient.
He brought his left hand up to hold the other side of her chest; pulling another pretty noise as the cold metal of his thumb gently stroked the exposed skin of her breast.
"Wanna feel you..." His flesh hand made its way lower and cupped her clothed sex, unexpectedly making her grind down to his hold, "...here."
She couldn't help to find shelter in the crook of his neck when he began to stroke her sensually.
This is getting out of hand.
Y/N doesn't mind to entertain him if the soldat only asked for him to hold her but it was clear that he wanted so much more than just innocent touches. Especially when he languidly rubbed his middle finger in between the slit of her pussy.
She hates how easy it was for Bucky's touch turned her on, his hands and his lips; regardless if his actions was someone else's.
This is wrong.
This has to stop.
"No... soldat." She whimpered in his ears as his finger drew slow circles on her clit, his mouth latched on her shoulder.
"I can't touch you here?" He murmured softly as he pressed harder. Even with the barrier of the cotton panties, she was so sensitive to his touch; he loves that about her.
"N-no. You can't." She choked back a moan as she replied.
God, what if he doesn't care?
What if he'll get mad and force it on her?
She can't imagine the guilt Bucky had to experience if the soldat take her right now. And all because her stupid little brain cannot comprehend a plan to stop him, all because she let the soldat touch her as freely, as willingly.
Salty tears started to blur her vision when she sniffled them back.
Much to his deperateness, the soldat pulled her away and watched as her tears spilled out, "Oh darling, don't cry." He leaned in and kiss the corners of her eyes, murmuring his words of comfort, "I hate to see you cry, мое cолнышко (my sunshine)." His metal hand slithered to her back and his palm stroked her lovingly.
"Okay, okay. I won't touch your sweet princess part, okay?" He patted her pussy one last time before reaching to swipe her tears away. "I promise." He whispered.
As much as he wanted to fuck her stupid, fill her hole full with his load; however the soldat does hold her very dear to his heart and hates to see her sad.
"Just let me hold you close, darling?" He cooed as he kissed the edge of her lips.
Y/N didn't know why but she trusted his words. Maybe it was because he was so gentle with her, that she was tricked into believing him.
She watched the soldat waited patiently for her response and when she nodded softly, he swiftly lifted her in his arms and lay her down on the bed.
He tucked himself in under the sheets with her and naturally rested his face on her chest. His fleshed arms wrapped securely around her waist and his metal one around her thighs, as he pulled her closer; almost suffocating himself in between her warm breasts.
It was like an instinct for Y/N to encircle her arms around his neck while her hands run through the thick of his hair, absentmindedly playing with the softness of it.
She almost giggle when the soldat let out a deep-throated sound of relieved sighs as she continued to massage his scalp.
As the soldat started to sail deeper into dreamland, Y/N thought that maybe this will be the only and the last time she had the chance to hold Bucky like this and she knew it was wrong to feel grateful to the soldat because had done nothing but terrible, despicable things in the past.
But when she thought about it, none of those sins was his choice to make. He was created to kill and nothing else.
But what if he had something to hold on to?
A hope to look forward to?
A person to protect?
Or a home to go back to?
Would he still be the same monster he had been before?
She have not a slightest clue.
But, what she does know that this soldat who's clinging in her arms, deserves something kind.
And she hoped that she managed to give him a sense of peace for once in his life.
Y/N nuzzled to the side of his tired-looking face and placed a sweet kiss on his temple as she whispered ever-so-softly, "Welcome home, soldat."
Part II >>
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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A/N: This is possibly part 1? I'm not sure either. Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments! And reblogs is much appreciated!
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ssinboo · 5 months
Text
Say Yes to me
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summary: You've been in love with Jeon Wonwoo since forever, and due to your family relations, you had hopes you'd marry him. Your only problem? he's getting engagement to someone else.
or
During his Engagement party, your childhood best friend and love of your life, Jeon Wonwoo, asks you to run away with him.
pairing: 1960s!AU - Childhood bestfriend! Wonwoo x F!Reader
word count: 10k (45~ minute read) – My longest ever!
warnings: unrequited crushes and overall foolishness, idiots in love, best friends to lovers to not lovers to lovers again, some angst?, Wonwoo is such a nerd, making out in dingy motels, unrealistic mileage for gasoline, seokmin being the sweetest
a/n: This will most certainly be my last fic of the year! So, Happy Holidays everyone! This year has been so troublesome, but I've grown so much and written a lot more, too! I'm so, so grateful for everyone I've met and everyone that's enjoyed my stuff! See you in 2024!
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Had you been questioned, there would never be a concrete answer to the question of just how long you had been in love with Jeon Wonwoo. 
You’d know him forever, and maybe you loved him all along.
Your families were business partners turned friends. And there had always been talk of marriage between the children. Of course, for convenience. The Jeon’s produced top-class racing and sports cars, while your family were in the chemical business, specialising in industry paints and finishes, it was only natural to unite the two families and profit. 
Although your wealth was vast, it was nothing compared to the Jeon’s, despite always having the chance to frequent the same environments, you often found you were on different levels altogether. 
Jeon Wonwoo was the eldest son, and he carried himself as such — with all the poise and arrogance of the heir to a global conglomerate. He liked golfing and late night swims. Always took his coffee black with no sugar, and barely had anything for breakfast, preferring a hearty lunch instead. 
His younger brother, Lee Seokmin, was the result of an affair with a secretary, though that did not mean he was loved any less, no. Seokmin lacked a single mean bone in his body, he had a pure heart and a contagious laugh.  
They were by all means what people liked to call Irish Twins, born less than a year apart. And the nature of that fact only made their differences more apparent. Complete opposites they were, and that extended to how they treated you, too. 
Every summer growing up, your family would travel to the country house and you and your sister would spend the better part of the months at the club. Oh, how you loved the country club with the fun summer activities the clear chlorinated water, having a meal under the pool umbrellas and getting funny tan lines. 
But most of all, you enjoyed Jeon Wonwoo.
His family frequented the same club and every summer, you’d be practically glued to Wonwoo, even if he didn’t dare to pay you any attention.
You were only three years apart, yet he acted as if you were an immature brat. Seokmin had always been happy to play with you and your sister, though. 
More often than not, Wonwoo would lounge by the pool with a book, never daring to go in. And you would cross your arms over tile by the sides and try your damnedest to strike a conversation with him. He would ignore your every word, or worse, poke fun at your latest obsession. 
“Wonwoo, at what time where you born?” You ask, spitting out any chlorine filled water off your mouth. 
He arches an eyebrow, looking up from his book.
“What?”
“What time were you born?” You repeat, unbothered by his acidic tone.
“Why would I know that?”
“Can’t you ask your mum?” 
He rolls his eyes, “Why do you wanna know?”
“So I can see your birth chart,” You shrug, twirling a wet strand of hair around your finger. 
“The fuck is a birth chart?”
“It’s like… It’s a way to see your personality… And I can check to see if we’re compatible.”
“That’s stupid…” He rolls his eyes, again, “You’re stupid.” 
You scoff, “You won’t play along— You’re such a bore!” You yell out and dive back in the pool, leaving behind a cackling Wonwoo. 
Those hapless summer days were spent lazing by the pool with your sister and Seokmin — without a care in the world, laughing about nothing. With the isolated water-balloon fight every now and then. 
You’d grown up before you could realise it, never truly leaving behind your childish crush on Wonwoo. Even if by the age hierarchy, you had no chance of marrying him — Your sister were to marry Wonwoo and you possibly married Seokmin. 
Though you held hope, it crumbled away with every passing minute. 
But that year, your sister had the greatest early birthday present: She’d found the man she was to marry and best of all, your daddy could never say no to his girls. 
With your sister marrying the love of her life, it meant that you would marry Wonwoo, right? It was only a matter of time and you would be sworn to each other before God, your friends, and family. And your first love would blossom. 
On your 21st birthday, your father took you to work with him for the day, though you most lazed around and answered his calls. You only expected to have lunch for your birthday and a party on the weekend.
At noon, he drove to the Jeon’s factory to deliver the new paint samples. 
The workers, most of whom had watched you, your sister and the Jeon kids grow up, greet you excitedly and some even wish you happy birthday. Your father goes straight to the floor to speak to the manager.
Unexpectedly, Mr. Jeon himself shows up.
Mr. Jeon was a handsome old man a captivating smile, he was incredibly passionate about his work and adored mechanics, but he loved his sons above all — And he had great expectations for his boys. 
He greets you with a warm hug and wishes you a happy birthday before discussing business with your father. To which you busy yourself with staring at the pieces waiting for a coat of paint.
“Hey, baby, why don’t you come with us to the patio?” Your father calls and you oblige, skipping toward the two men.
The patio is where they stored their models waiting to be shipped out to agencies or sometimes, for the higher profile clients, directly to the customer. You look at the new line to be launched next winter: sleek and modern with leather seats and wooden accents on the interior. You could never criticise the Jeon’s for their taste, they knew their stuff. 
“Come here, baby,” Your father waves his hands, “What do you think of this car?” 
You study the convertible in a bright red with a cream leather interior; a classic. 
“It’s gorgeous, daddy, when are they launching it?”
“It should be out next year, but what do you think of the colour?”
“I like it,” You nod enthusiastically.
“That’s great baby, why don’t you read up on this model?” He hands you a tiny card, common in the factory, that has the model and batch number, as well as the signature from the supervisor. But just underneath the model, you see the colour name: your name.
As you look at your father, completely astonished, he just lets out a warm laugh and opens his arms for a hug.
“You named a shade after me?!” You glue yourself to him, still in shock. 
“Happy birthday, princess.” 
“Thank you, daddy, you’re the best!” 
“That’s your dad’s present, how about you open mine, now?” Mr. Jeon interjects, waving a tiny jewelry box in the air. 
You fix your hair and take it from his hand, expecting maybe a ring, or earrings. 
But you find brand new car keys.
Mouth agape, you look at him while your father can only laugh at your surprised expression.
“Why don’t you give it a spin?” Mr. Jeon encourages, rushing you toward the convertible. 
And though your father is beside himself with worry for you driving during rush hour, he settles for sitting in the passenger’s seat and doing some good old backseat driving, even though you barely make it past 30.
You drive around the block and return to the factory before your father has an anxiety attack over your driving. 
“Thank you so much, Mr. Jeon! When did you even do this?! I had no idea!”
“Wonwoo oversaw the whole thing, he’s the one you should thank,” He laughs it off, but your heart can only skip a beat at the mention of your beloved’s name. Especially thinking he was the one to take care of such a great gift.
Wonwoo loved mechanics as much as his dad, sometimes even more. He even went to a good college for it, coming back even smarter than before — and much sassier, too. He never stopped doing manual work in the factory, guaranteeing every car made was up to the Jeon standard.
And you were very biased toward his mechanic abilities, especially when he would furrow his brow, glasses perched on the very tip of his nose; he would wipe off sweat off his forehead with his grease covered arm. 
You remember to this day the last time your father came to discuss swatches and you stopped by the shop. Watching Wonwoo work on an older model with a leaky oil tank. 
He did everything himself, changed the tank perched under the car, soldering a brand new one. He also did a once over on anything else that could become a problem in the future, any filters needing change, checking wires and gears, making sure the oil was fresh. The problem came with the lights. He had such a hard time wiggling his thick arms through the machinery to reach the right spot, and you watched very intently how his triceps flexed, deep green veins bulging under his skin.
Wonwoo had gotten so frustrated he’d shed off the top part of his coveralls, sporting a white undershirt so tight you could basically tell the shape of his sweat-clad torso. Oh, how you’d hoped he never got that bulb in place.
“Come’ere,” Wonwoo calls out without further ado. 
“Why?”
“Need your help,” He mumbles under a sigh.
You rise from the barrel you were sitting on and approach the open hood. “With what?”
“Getting this fuckin’ bulb in place,” He hands you the tiny light bulb.
“Where do I need to put it?”
“See— in between this part, need to shove you hand until you reach back here in the light, then you just screw it in.”
“What if I get stuck?” 
“You won’t, you’re so petite,” He smirks.
You scoff, “Shut up.”
Leaning over the hood, you place your left hand on the chassis to steady yourself and shove your right hand in between gears and machinery, trying to find the spot he mentioned.
“I can’t find it,” You complain.
“Keep trying.”
“I am!”
“Here, deeper—“ He reaches for you, one hand on your waist and another on your arm, forcing you toward the place.
You’re way too focused on finding the damn spot for the light, that you barely notice the proximity at all. 
“Can’t find it!”
“Right, right— My right.”
“It’s the same freakin’ right, you idiot,” You hiss.
He laughs, “Fine, our right,” you groan at his stupid joke, “It should be there, try to bring it closer to you.” 
“Found it!” You squeal with a smile, screwing the bulb in its place. 
“Atta girl,” Wonwoo smiles. 
“There!” With a relieved sigh, you finally free your grease-clad hand from the machinery, slightly cringing at the black covering your fingernails — It’d be such a bother to clean it up. 
When you finally lean back, you stumble onto Wonwoo’s firm chest. Lucky for you, he catches you, steady hold at your waist. You’re finally aware of his proximity, to which he only smiles. 
Looking down at where his warm, tauntingly large hands meet your waist, you’re suddenly filled with nothing but rage. ‘
“You got grease all over my dress!” You whine, looking at the perfectly stamped print of his hand over your brand new summer dress. 
He only laughs, “Looks better this way, trust me.”
“Ugh!” You groan, stomping toward the washing area where they kept clean rugs. 
He closes the hood with a loud thump that echoes through the shop and slides into the driver’s seat. The car comes alive with a loud hum and ta-da! The headlight works. 
You are a little proud of your work, yes. But it’s not like you’ll show it.
“Do you not anything clean in here?!” You complain, eyeing the pile of grease-covered rags thrown in a corner. That had to be a fire hazard.
“What?” Wonwoo shouts over the running engine.
You huff and stomp your way back to the car, throwing open the driver’s door. “I have a formal dinner to go to,” You state, leaning over the door.
“Okay, then go.” 
Rolling your eyes, you hold back any possible insults, “Like this?” You gesture toward your otherwise perfectly fine dress. 
He holds back a little mischievous smile, “I have some clean clothes in the office.”
Wide eyes, mouth hanging agape, you stare at him dumbfound, “I hope that’s a joke, Jeon Wonwoo.” 
He laughs, genuinely. That sweet, deep, dorky laugh of his that reverberates through his chest and plunges straight into your heart. 
“Come on, I’ll drive you home.”
As much as he did tease you, Wonwoo never made short on his promises. 
“Is he around?” You ask Mr. Jeon, trying your best to suppress any expectations.
“Oh, he had some business… But he wished you a happy birthday.”
Your smile falters before your catch it, forcing the corners of your lips into a beautiful, rehearsed smile. “Let him know I’m grateful. For the wishes and for the amazing present.”
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It would soon be Wonwoo’s birthday and you had been preparing for what felt like ages. You got him a really nice set of electric work tools since he complained often about how the shop’s tools were always malfunctioning. But you did feel somewhat bad about only getting him a gift relating to work on what should be a day about him. 
So you caved in and got him a gorgeous wrist watch with classy black leather straps; on the underside you had his name inscribed with a heart. — You actually hadn’t planned for the heart, but the jeweller got confused in between so many orders and it was too close to the date to have it re-done. You hoped you could play it off in a cool manner, maybe he would laugh at your story.
The party would be held the eve of his actual birthday, and you arrived at the venue with hours to spare. Your father and sister are by the entrance, speaking to Mr. Jeon, you greet them.
“Hi, Mr. Jeon! Where should I put the gifts?”
“Oh—“ Surprised, he looks at your father, “You’ve brought gifts—“ He seems… surprised? As if it were so weird to bring presents to a birthday party. “Uh— I’m not sure, let me check with my wife where you could place those.”
You father nervously sips on his champagne, avoiding your sister’s burning looks.
“You haven’t told her,” Your sister turns to your father, “Why didn’t you tell her?”
“Tell me what?” You ask.
“Honey… This isn’t Wonwoo’s birthday party…” Your father speaks very slowly, gauging for your reaction at his every word.
Eyebrows raised, you question, “What do you mean?”
“It’s an engagement party, he’s getting engaged to Suzy,” Your sister rips the band-aid off.
And you feel the air being sucked out of your lungs at once, an agonising knot pulls at your throat and your nose stings with the threat of tears. The shopping bags fall from your hands and you fight off the urge to bawl your eyes out. 
Before you actually do cry your eyes out, you rush outside.
“Baby—“ Your father calls but you just storm off, not wanting to be near anyone. 
Engaged? Engaged!
Engaged…
Wonwoo was getting fucking engaged. 
With a bitch named Suzy who had the prettiest hair you’d ever seen and knew how to talk to investors and could speak a thousand languages. And worst of all, she was the kindest, sweetest girl ever. You couldn’t even hate her!
You weren’t even allowed that! As much as you weren’t allowed a simple heads up. How hard was it to tell you beforehand “Hey, the guy you’ve loved your entirely life is getting married to some girl and you just brought lemon pies to his engagement party, thought you’d want to know.”
Maybe you should’ve taken the pies with you, at least you’d have some comfort. 
You know what, what the fuck. Why didn’t Wonwoo tell you anything?! It had been barely a couple of days since you saw each other, why couldn’t he tell you? Were you not even worthy of that? 
Like having known each other your entire lives doesn’t make you worthy of such ”wonderful” news? How hard is it to tell someone in passing that you’re getting engaged! And now, you’re supposed to smile all night and pretend like your guts aren’t festering in rage and melancholy and your blood doesn’t run cold at the mere thought of Wonwoo walking down the aisle.
Giving it a second thought, maybe it wasn’t set in stone yet. 
It’s the modern times and even back in your parents’ days, engagements were broken off all the time! He might not marry Suzy. You might have a chance. 
Maybe you could ask— no, you could plead with your father to tell Mr. Jeon to think it all over. Wonwoo is still young, it’s not time to settle down just yet. He wanted to study abroad, he talked about the automobile industry in Europe with such amaze, and if that took a little longer, maybe Suzy would get tired of waiting?
Who were you fooling? You should’ve seen it coming.
Of course, he wouldn’t have married you, what were you thinking?!
He’s the Jeon’s precious firstborn and you’re… someone who can’t even tell apart the sizing in wrenches —  To top it all off, Suzy was notably great with mechanics. 
You really wish you had those pies with you, it would make your salty tears a little sweeter.
By the time you’re done sobbing in your car, you look a hot mess with runny make-up and swollen eyes. With a sigh, you pull out your purse and muster up any cosmetics that can save you for tonight. 
You could cry all you wanted at home, but right now, you needed to look pretty and have your pictures taken.
By the time you return, the party is to start and guests are gathering at the front, your sister immediately rushes to your side.
“Are you okay?” she whispers, soft hands reaching for yours. 
Forcing out a smile, “Of course! Who do you think I am?”
By the look on her face, you know she doesn’t trust your words not one bit, but will not pry at your emotions any further. At least not for tonight, you’re sure tomorrow she will grill you about this. But for now, you put on a bright smile and greet all the guests.
From the Jeon’s, Seokmin is the third to arrive, missing only by the birthday boy himself. But he immediately greets his parents and comes to greet your family.
“Hey!” You smile, putting aside your glass of champagne so you can hug him properly.
“How you doin’?” He asks, gorgeous smile on display. 
“I’m— Well—“
“They’ve told you then—“ 
You press your lipstick coloured lips into a thin line, “Yeah,” You nod.
“Shit.”
“Yeah,” You shrug, “I’m happy, Suzy is… a—“ Nice words. Nice words. “—wonderful girl.”
Seokmin offers you a sweet smile. “Let’s hope she can handle his tantrums,” he nudges at your arm.
“Oh, please!” You laugh.
Wonwoo was known for sometimes having a bit of a short temper, not often, by any means and maybe that’s what made them so memorable. Like the one time he couldn’t finish a puzzle during game night, so he gathered all the pieces and set the ablaze in the backyard.
“Or—“ A waiter passes by with a tray full of champagne and he so kindly grabs two glasses, offering you one. “Listen to this— He gets to the church, covered in grease from head to toe.” 
You laugh at the thought. Gods, how many times has Wonwoo decided to work on an engine while wearing his most expensive outfit? His mother nearly had a fit every time he would show up dishevelled and smelling like motor oil pretending like nothing’s wrong. 
“Please,” You sip at your drink, “I bet he’s gonna be all greased up tonight.”
Seokmin laughs wholeheartedly. He was the sort of guy to never hold back a fit of giggles no matter how inappropriate it may be, and it was certainly refreshing to know someone genuinely found your company enjoyable.
“For sure, I think her parents will freak out.” 
You nod. 
Tapping at your glass, you hesitate the following words, “Guess we’ll be the ones getting married for the family, then…”
You didn’t hate Seokmin, far from it. You loved him to bits— Not like Wonwoo, of course, you believed you would never love a man like you loved Wonwoo, ever again. 
He was funny, and such a gentleman. Not to mention, handsome, too. If you weren’t hopelessly in love with his brother, he would’ve been the perfect husband of your dreams. But he did deserve better than a wife who could never give him what he deserves. 
“Sorry about that,” Seokmin comforts you and that only makes your nose sting with the threat of more tears.
“Stooop!” You whine in a shaky voice and he’s overcome with worry.
“Hey— What’s wrong—?”
“Don’t be so sweet— I’m emotional tonight—“ You laugh at your emotional state, despite the teary-eyes.
“Are you a crybaby tonight?”
You nod, fanning your eyes in the hope of drying your tears before they can wash away your makeup.
Seokmin smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and you lean against his chest, fighting the urge to cry.
It’s only when you’re certain you won’t bawl your eyes out, that you respond. “It’s not that I hate you, you know I love you, but… You deserve someone that will love you like a husband.” 
He nods, “I know— But it might not be so bad, we’re friends! We’ll have sleepovers every day, and we’ll have Italian every night, we’ll watch those silly movies you like…” Seokmin lists off all the things you would do in your very platonic marriage and it doesn’t sound so bad. 
He knew exactly how you felt, he loved you, of course he did, you were so precious in his eyes, but not like a lover. 
You pull your face away from his chest to look up at him, “Are you gonna let me choose your clothes?” 
Seokmin sighs. You hated his questionable fashion since forever and in only very rare occasions did he accept your input, any other time and he assaulted your spirit with clashing patterns and silly shoes.
“Fine—!” 
You smile brightly, properly comforted. 
Before you can tease him any further, you spot Wonwoo entering the venue. Although he is immediately swarmed with congratulatory words, his shy nature makes it so his only response is always an awkward smile. 
He immediately spots you among the crowd.
You breathe in. In that moment, despite knowing he was sworn to another, that did not stop your heart from fluttering at the sight of him, his broad shoulders and the crooked tie he clearly put on a rush.
“Congrats, bro!” Seokmin is the first one to greet him, not letting go of your shoulder but instead pulling Wonwoo into a semi-hug. 
“Seokmin…” Wonwoo eyes his brother and then you, and then his brother again.
“Congrats, Nonu,” You smile, letting go of Seokmin’s comfort to reach for a hug. 
Wonwoo smiles, letting you cling onto his neck, your citric perfume seeping into his clothes and body. 
Oh, how his warmth could never compare to another. How you craved his affection like no other. 
“Thanks— Uh, did you bring me anything?” He asks in a teasing tone.
“Ey— Nonu!” Seokmin scolds his brother. 
“How did you know I brought you something?” You giggle, pulling away from the hug. 
Wonwoo shrugs. 
You reach for his crooked tie, straightening it to the best of your abilities. “I brought it earlier, but I think your mum took it to the back room,” You explain, focused on the tie.
He, however is focused on your concentrated face, parted red lips and furrowed brows. The proximity that lets him almost feel your chest pressed against his, as if extending the hug. 
“However, you, mister, have to greet your guests!” You scold, setting his tie in place.
Seokmin joins in, once again throwing his arm around your shoulder. “That’s right, mum already gave me an earful about how late you were— And I got here on time!��� 
“Yeah— Yeah— You’re right,” Wonwoo nods.
“Liquid courage?” You offer your half-drunk glass of champagne and he downs it in one go.
You and Seokmin goof around a little more and gossip about certain guests behind their backs. Dinner is served and you all sit down to eat, Seokmin insists you sit beside him, which just so happens to also be next to Wonwoo. And you thank him for indulging you one last time.
Wonwoo is mostly quiet, but you were used to him not being rather fond of public parties, especially when all of the attention is on him. On his other side, sits Suzy, the blushing bride-to-be. She tries to make conversation with Wonwoo, though most of it falls flat, he only ever gives her monosyllabic answers and rarely contributes to discussions. 
That is until Mr. and Mrs. Jeon stand up, tapping forks to their glasses to call for everyone’s attention. The room quiets down instantly. 
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for attending our little gathering tonight,” Mr Jeon greets the guests. “We have some wonderful news we would like to share with you all.” 
“My beautiful son, how proud I am of you,” He adds, “Every day I am  amazed at your intellect. Often, I question just where did you get those smarts!”
Everyone laughs.
“You have grown into a fine man, and I can’t take credit for any of it. You are the most mature, talented, and intelligent boy and you did it all by yourself— ”
You can watch how Wonwoo’s eyes gloss over with tears. 
“I’m growing old, you know. And every father wants the guarantee that his children will be taken care of… That’s why I’m so relieved and happy to announce that my worries will soon be gone—“ He laughs but his son’s smile falters, “I’d like to announce the engagement of my son, Wonwoo, to this beautiful young lady named Suzanne. Welcome to the family, Suzy.” 
He raises his glass and soon, the room fills with uproar. Everyone claps and you join in, smiling toward Mr. Jeon and Suzy. She stands up, thanking everyone and raising her own glass.
But Wonwoo doesn’t move. 
“Nonu?” You whisper. 
In his ears all that can be heard is muffled screams of joy and the incessant acute ringing. He closes his fists so tight that his blunt nails almost break through skin, he doesn’t look at you, but it’s so clear something is wrong.
You and Seokmin exchange glances. 
Before you can call for him again, he stands up at once, the chair falling behind him with a loud bang that silences the room in an instant. In large and rushed strides, Wonwoo leaves for the patio. 
You stand up and follow him. 
“Wonwoo!” You call out, almost tripping over your party heels. 
He stands in the yard, hand gripping at his gelled hair while the other fights with his tie, pulling at the suffocating fabric until it slides down.
The yard is decorated with a gorgeous fountain, sound of running water somewhat soothing in this moment.
“Nonu, what’s wrong?” You whisper, a hand reaching for his heaving shoulder.
“What wrong?!” He yells back, shoving your hand away, “Did you not fuckin’ hear ‘em?!” 
You step back and his gaze somewhat softens, realising he just pushed you.
“You didn’t know…” You whisper to yourself, epiphany hitting you like a punch to the gut. How could Mr. Jeon do this?! Throw this on him without any previous warning?!
“You— You knew?” His voice is shaky, laced with the sharp sting of betrayal.
“I found it out myself tonight when I got here— I— I thought you knew! I thought you agreed to it!” You argue. 
“How— How can you think I would agree to marry someone—“ His words trail off in the night breeze, never to be finished. 
“Then— What will you do?”
“I don’t know!” 
You bite at your nails, finding a concrete surface to sit on and ponder. 
“I must leave—“ He speaks out, “Run away with me—“
“What?!” you stand up.
“Let’s leave, drive somewhere— Wherever! I can’t stay a moment longer in this place.” 
Oh, what a dilemma it was.
Abandon an engagement party with the groom-to-be, leaving behind furious parents and confused guests. And part of you knew that, despite your family’s closeness and no matter how much your father claimed you were all very close like family, driving off in the middle of the night with a committed man was a blow to any respectable, single, young ladies.
What a dilemma it could’ve been if you weren’t so enamoured with this man you would beck at any given call of his.
“I’ll get my bag and tell your parents you want to stay out here for a couple of minutes,” You announce and he nods.
As you walk back into the venue, all eyes are on you.
“He’s got the wedding jitters, everyone, not to worry. Wonwoo will return after he’s had a bit of fresh air,” You announce with a smile and all guests return to their previous activities.
But Mr. Jeon immediately corners you.
“What is he thinking?!” He half-yells, half-whispers.
“He’s just nervous, it’s a big bit of news…” You lie through your teeth, “I think a little heads up would’ve helped, you know he doesn’t do well with surprises.”
The man sighs, “He wouldn’t ever agree to it. I’ve offered him countless girls to marry and he never accepts any of them.“ Mr. Jeon looks at you and then sighs. “Do me a favour, convince him to come back, will you?”
“Yes, sir,” You nod and head off into the back rooms.
Unbeknown to you, Seokmin is on your trail and he waits until you are in the back lounge, gathering your bags and jacket to close the door and corner you.
“What the hell happened?”
You jump at the sudden intrusion, “You scared me!” You whisper.
“Sorry,” He whispers back.
“He didn’t know!”
“What?!” He says in a normal tone, soon realising just how loud that was. 
“What I said, I think your dad set up a trap… He knows Wonwoo won’t go against his word.”
“Shit. What are we gonna do?”
“He wants to run away,” You announce.
Seokmin looks at you, and then at the purse hanging from your should and the jacket in your hands. 
“And you’re coming with him?”
“I can’t leave him alone, not tonight.”
“And where are you going?”
“I don’t know,” 
“And when are you coming back?”
“I don’t know.”
“You are coming back, right?”
“I have no idea, Seokmin,” You realise, but the prospect doesn’t scare you as badly.
He scratches at his head. “Leave through the kitchen, I’ll hold off my dad. Make sure to give me a call once you guys are… I don’t know— Just give a call, will you?” 
You nod, pulling him into a hug.
Doing as he instructed, you pass through the kitchen staff and rush through the backdoor, unseen by the guests. Wonwoo is sitting on a concrete bench, his head between his hands.
“Ready?” You call out.
Wonwoo looks up, nodding before he rises to his height. You offer him a comforting smile and reach for his hand. 
Once you get hold of his hand, you bolt across the yard toward the parking lot. He almost stumbles over his lanky legs, but catches up rather fast. You throw your stuff on the backseat and enter your car, Wonwoo decides to jump over the door. 
You laugh at his antics with a shake of your head. 
Once your heels are discarded, you start the engine and drive off, leaving behind that dreaded engagement party. Wonwoo busies himself with shedding his formal wear, throwing his tie on the floor and removing his blazer. 
In any other occasion, this could’ve been such a lovely late-night drive, just the two of you in your beloved car, night breeze caressing your faces with her ice-cold kisses, cruising through deserted roads, barely a soul in sight except for the night owls.
And you might allow yourself to enjoy this moment.
The silence isn’t a bother, no, Wonwoo was always a man of comfortable silences to you, but this once, you’re worried about goes on in that busy mind of his.
“You alright?” You ask, looking away from the road to steal a glance or two at him.
“Yeah,” He replies.
“Truly?”
“No,” He scoffs at his own lie. “But I’ll be.”
You nod. 
You drive out of town and on the interstate roads for ages until Wonwoo finally speaks up. You’re completely engulfed in darkness except for your headlights.
“We should stop soon and have a rest.”
“Okay,” You nod, “Any preferences?”
“Anywhere.” 
And so you tell him to keep his eyes peeled open when a sign on the road says there should be a motel in the next couple KM. It doesn’t take too long before you’re pulling into the parking lot of a roadside motel, much of a far-cry from your expensive hotels and luxury living. 
You check in at the front desk with an old man who seems very unhappy with his life, he short of throws the keys your way. 
The room is… surprisingly nice, given the circumstances of the ambience. Only problem is the, although quite large, singular bed. You exchange glances.
“Shit,” Wonwoo curses, “I’m gonna 
“You wanna get hit?” You joke, “He’s minutes away from killing us over this room. We can just share the bed.”
He looks at you with wide eyes. “I’ll sleep in the tub.”
Oh, he certainly seems to hate the idea of sharing a bed with you, huh.
“Nonu, please, it’s late and we’re both tired. It will be just like when we were kids,” You explain, setting aside your stuff.
Wonwoo nods, sitting on the strangely comfortable bed.
“You think they have robes?” You ask, looking around.
“Wouldn’t bet on it.” 
“Oh, I’d kill to get out of this dress,” You whine, running to the bathroom to check for anything you could wear instead of your dress. 
He just bites at his lips, watching you pace from side to side in that tiny bedroom. 
That’s when you remember your forgotten shopping bags sitting in the trunk! Your compulsive shopping habits just saved you from a very uncomfortable night’s sleep, how convenient!
“I think I have some clothes in my car,” You announce, grabbing the keys and heading toward the door.
“Wait, you’re going by yourself? let me go with you.”
“I don’t wanna lock the door, though,” You whine.
He sighs, “Stay here, I’ll go.” 
You jump, “Thank you, Nonu!”
While Wonwoo rummages through your trunk and pulls out the surprising large amount of shopping bags, you shed off your clothes and head toward the bathroom, dying to get some hot water on your body, put on your new PJs and doze off. 
When he returns however, he is greeted by a sight any other man would die to see. You’ve left a trail of clothes from the bed toward the bathroom door. Starting on your pretty dress, splayed out over tiled-floor, and then your tights and then your underwear, matching, too— 
He clears his throat. “I’m back!” 
But you probably don’t hear him through the running shower, so he just sets down the bags and avoid the sight of your clothes. He decides to turn on the tiny TV and browse through any late night re-runs. You take only a couple of minutes in your shower.
“Nonu?” You ask from the bathroom.
“Yeah?” He turns down the TV.
“Did you find the clothes?”
“Yeah.”
“Can you bring me something to wear?” Wonwoo gulps. 
“Uh— Which one?”
“There should be a light blue bag and a pink one.” 
“Okay—“ He stands up and searches for the aforementioned colours. 
Wonwoo heads to the bathroom door and leans against the wall, facing away from the door. He knocks once. You open the door and shove your arm through, reaching for the bags.
“Thank youu!” 
He returns to the boring TV. Though all he could think about was the sight of your wet supple skin, knowing you were bare with only a thin sheet of plywood separating you. 
You leave the bathroom smelling of cheap soap and fresh into your brand new nightgown. It is tentatively short with an almost see-through round of lace over the hems. In your defence, you weren’t planning on showing this nightgown to anyone anytime soon. 
Sitting on the bed, you look around the room, not noticing how Wonwoo’s eyes don’t really meet yours or how red his ears seem to burn.
“Aren’t you gonna shower?” You ask.
“Feels a bit redundant to shower and get back into my dirty clothes.” 
“I think I might have something for you, if you don’t want to sleep in a suit,” You pry.
Wonwoo raises an eyebrow, “I’m listening.”
“But you can’t judge! I bought this for my dad because you know he deals very poorly with the heat— And he never buys himself anything!” You’re explaining yourself in advance because you remember very well what you bought.
Silky boxer shorts and a tank top, which your father loved to sleep in on stuffy summer nights but you doubted would be Wonwoo’s first choice of wear, ever.
He haggles with his own mind; give into the silky boxer shorts or sleep in the most uncomfortable outfit ever. With a tired sigh, Wonwoo accepts his fate and grabs the bag. 
You smile as he stomps toward the bathroom with a defeated frown.
By the time he returns, you’ve cleaned up your trail of clothes and made yourself very comfortable in the bed. You turn your head to face him.
God, he could make a potato sack look good. 
“How’s the fit?” You pull your eyes away before you look for too long. 
Wonwoo shrugs, “I’ve had worse.”
You laugh.
He coyly joins you in bed, keeping a large gap between your bodies, settling on top of the covers while you’re under their warmth. 
“Ain’t you cold?” You ask, fidgeting with the TV remote. 
Wonwoo shakes his head, leaning back into the headboard. With a pout, you cross the figurative bridge between the two of you and reach for him. He doesn’t shy away from your touch but it visibly confused.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, hands hovering in the air, far away from your exposed back.
“I’m sorry your birthday party sucked,” You murmur against his chest, Wonwoo smiles softly, letting his hands rest on you.
“It didn’t suck in its entirety,” he says, palms slightly tapping at your back, “it was fun running away with you.”
You giggle at his comment, heart fluttering at its meaning, “What are we going to do? About the engagement, I mean…”
“We?” He raises an eyebrow.
You pull away from him.
“Well— You dragged me into this!” You slap at his chest and he lets out a boisterous laugh that almost manages to pull the corners of your from into a smile.
“I know, I’m taking the piss out of you,” He extends his arms, pulling you back to your previous position, resuming the soft caresses he leaves on your arms. “I don’t know— This is the first time I’ve ever gone against my father.”
You sigh. “Don’t you wanna marry Suzy?”
There’s a pause and oh, you’re begging, wishing to hear the words you want most.
“Fuck no!” Wonwoo exclaims and you fail to hide your excitement.
“She is pretty,” You throw the bait, to pry at his true feelings.
“So is your sister, should I just marry any pretty girl?”
You raise from your position, eyebrows furrowed into a deep frown. Wonwoo looks at you, completely clueless to his words and its consequences.
“What the hell?!” 
“What?” 
Kicking off the covers in a flurry, you kneel on the bed, staring at him dead in the eyes.  “You have the hots for my sister!”
It’s Wonwoo’s turn to get angry, “What?! No— You’re twisting my words—“
“I’m twisting your words?! You just said you think my sister is pretty!” 
“Because she is!”
You jaw drops, you can’t believe he is doubling down. “Wow,” you shake your head. 
“What’s wrong with saying that?”
You shrug, turning away from him and crossing your arms. “I don’t know, why don’t you just go an marry my sister, then.”
Only then, does this thick-headed man you love so much realise he has been complimenting other girls without so much as telling you a single nice word — the bare minimum. He sighs and offers you a soft smile, shifting in the bed until he is near you again.
“I don’t want to marry your sister. I think she is pretty, but she’s not the prettiest sister, you are.” He waits for your reaction.
Hook, line and sinker. 
You turn around immediately, a hint of smile playing in your pretty lips. 
That’s enough for him to break into a wide smile, opening his arms to welcome you back into his warmth. You crash into his chest, wrapping yourself around his torso. 
He groans, falling back into the mattress but not letting go of you.
Minutes pass before you speak again. “It’s past midnight…” You whisper.
“It’s well past midnight… Why?”
You shift upwards until your faces are only inches apart, breath tickling his lips, your beautiful eyes gleaming under dim motel lighting. “Happy birthday,” You whisper between smiles, “Make a wish.” 
Wonwoo breathes in, eyes scanning your face, “There’s one thing I want…” 
“What is it?” 
If he said it out loud, he might’ve lost all courage to do so. 
So he just does it, Wonwoo leans forward until his lips meet yours in a chaste kiss. 
It probably lasted a couple of seconds, but those seconds felt like a lifetime when you were finally kissing the man you’ve loved for god knows how long. There’s a spark of electricity that burns bright from the moment your lips touch and travels through your body, blood boiling in excitement, shyness, and pure love. 
When the kiss ends, Wonwoo studies your face, watching for any sign of discomfort. Which is even more worrying when you’re standing there, froze solid with an empty stare.
But thankfully, before he can say anything, you throw caution into the wind. 
You pull him into a kiss. Throwing every sense of morale and shame you had out the damn window. He was a man sworn to another, for Pete's sake! But here you here, crashing your lips into his perfect, soft ones. 
Wonwoo lets out a quiet groan, almost inaudible, but you hear it, oh yes, you do. And it runs straight through your chest and down to your core. 
Although the sensible, rational part of your brain tells you to quit kissing him at once and just apologise, the other 99% of your brain, who’s been in love with him since forever, wants nothing of the sort. And you might have listened to the not-so-rational part of you, because you just deepened the kiss, shifting your weight until you’re partially on top of him.
Your lips move against him, shyly exploring this kiss, engraving every moment into your memory. 
Yet he reciprocates. His warm hands finds your waist, holding you flush against his torso, heartbeats thumping completely in-sync. You wrap your arms around his neck and he takes the chance to pull you deeper into those dangerous lips of his. His tongue finds its way into your mouth, licking and twirling against yours, hot and eager. 
He dips his head, one hand reaches to tangle into your hair and manoeuvre you around, allowing himself complete freedom to explore every bit of your mouth. 
Wonwoo kisses like no other. Not that you had too much of a repertoire to compare him to. 
But he consumes your lips with an unbound hunger, nothing similar to the calm and collected Wonwoo you knew, no. He’s hungry, messy, and very clumsy, clashing teeth one too many times, letting saliva drip down your chins and struggling to move with you on top of him.
When you part the kiss, you lay there breathless, gazing into his ridiculously beautiful beady eyes and long eyelashes, his handsome sharp nose and the most kissable lips you’ll ever see.
 It was breathtaking, mind-blowing and nothing like you’ve ever felt before. Your heart beats so fast you feel as if you might pass out at any moment but you’d die before you give up experiencing that again.
“What was that?” He whispers and his breath tickle your kiss-swollen lips. 
“Your birthday gift,” You bite at your lower lip. “Did you like it?”
Wonwoo smiles, breathless and half-lidded and your heart damn near bursts. “I did. Did you?”
You nod.
He nods. “Wanna do it again?”
You nod and he gives you that stupidly handsome smile of his.
And once again, you’re attached at the lips. This once, nothing like before, which you though impossible. It’s so much more desperate and it burns, it boils your blood in absolute desire. It leaves you light-headed, it wipes away your cognitive thoughts and leaves behind a foggy cloud of barely strung-together words that only translate into wanting more. More of him. 
You sigh into the kiss and he drinks it all up, he consumes everything you give him with erratic hands and eager tongue. 
Wonwoo leaves your lips and you whine with a breathless sigh of his name, almost chipping at any resolve he had left. But he nips at your neck nonetheless, warm, wet tongue trailing along your skin, making you twitch in his arms with the most delectable little ‘yips’ of surprise. 
He bites, feral and determined; determined to make his claim, to leave behind his mark on your body, to indulge in carnal pleasure without a prospect of tomorrow, letting everything else be a construct beyond these motel walls, away from where you laid. Away from this reality where he had you in his hands and you moaned his name with a soft smile.
Practically tearing your nightgown, he pulls the silky fabric just enough until your tits spill out of its confine. Wonwoo sighs at the sight, fingers trailing the contour of your boobs, raising goosebumps along sensitive skin. His eyes are burning in adoration, the most depraved glaze of hunger hidden behind sheer excitement. 
He dives in, hands kneading at the flesh, squishing soft skin. 
Slender fingers caress your aereolas, running fingernails along your nipples in curiosity, watching you squirm and bite at your lips as your nipples begin to perk up. 
And when you thought he was done, Wonwoo attaches his mouth to your nipple, sloppily running his tongue around it before he sucks. He makes sure to let his teeth graze, just to watch you jump.
All while his other hand makes work of your unattended boob, your attention is so thinly divided between his teasing fingers and his hot tongue and the sweetest, most satisfied groans that erupt from his throat. 
Your face burns and you bite at the back of your hand, shoving down every stubborn moan that tries to make it past; but he won’t have that, no. Wonwoo reaches for your arms, pinning them above your head without so much as pulling away from your tits. 
Mindlessly, you’ve been rocking back and forth against him, chasing a gut feeling you’re unsure of but desire more than anything ever. And without realising, you’ve been teasing him just as much as he has you, which is clear by the volume contained by his shorts. 
He wishes he could ravish your breasts all night, but any more of your squirming and he will come undone without so much as a touch from you. 
Wonwoo pulls away, hands once against finding your waist as he pulls you back to his chest.
“You know what comes next, don’t you?” He whispers against your lips, half-lidded, lust-filled eyes gazing so deep into your own. 
“I— I’ve never done it before,” You confess.
And something stirs within him, to know he is your first, the first and only man to every touch you this way, to trace his lips over your gorgeous body, to settle inside of you. 
Wonwoo smiles and kisses your nose, “I don’t care… But only if you don’t care that I haven’t either.”
You’re surprised, to say the least. 
Kissing in between smiles, you raise to your knees, letting him tug at the hem of shorts just enough to free his cock. 
It’s nothing like you’ve seen before and unlike the illustrations you remember from school. It’s red and veiny and it glistens with pre-cum under the dim lighting.
But it’s a part of him and you can’t help that your belly stirs at the sight of him stroking himself. 
When you reach for the hem of your nightgown, his hands stop you.
“Keep it on—“ He whispers.
“Why?”
“We’ve got all night to take it off,” He runs his tongue through his top teeth with a side smirk and you almost smack him up the head for being such a little shit.
As he asked so kindly, you bunch up your nightgown around your waist, hips circling around his warmth, meanwhile he’s playing with the flesh of your love handles, kneading and running his fingers over your skin. 
“Ready?”
You nod. He raises your hips and lets you control the pace, you feed in his cock, centimetre by centimetre, feeling it’s girth tear at your walls with an unimaginable sting, it burns hot and heavy in your hands.  
Crashing onto his chest, you cry out a pained yelp.
Wonwoo run his fingers over your back, kissing the top of your head, his eyebrows are bunched up, face painted with worry.  “We can stop— Let’s stop—“
“No!” you raise your head and he can see the tiny droplets bundling around your eyelashes, “Just gimme a minute!”
So you sit there, his cock half-in, pulsing angry red and throbbing under the  tease of warmth and tightness. Especially when you look so breathtakingly gorgeous, he gulps, leaning back against the headboard, urging his mind to be strong. 
It takes you minutes to get used to it, to slowly let the size settle until your muscles are well and accustomed to it and then you start it all over again, feeding the remaining inches until he’s bottomed out. 
And oh heavens, how utterly full and hot you felt. Despite the stinging pain, part of you wants to chase the pleasure, clenching in sheer hunger. 
Wonwoo stares up at you, looking for any signs of discomfort but he is met with the most enticing, beautiful, and tempting creature he’s ever laid his eyes upon. Your eyes are glassy with tears, but you’ve got a determined look on your face with a hint of a smirk that sends shivers down his spine and up his cock. 
“Shit,” He curses out with a smile, leaning back and rutting into your hips only to watch your eyebrows furrow and your mouth gape, a moan threatening to escape. “Ready to move, pretty girl?”
You breathe out, “Yeah.”
Steadying yourself against his chest, you raise your hips, feeling his absence leave you upsettingly empty until you let your body crash back down, his cock impaling you with its warmth once again. You rock against him, shallowly, though the motion is unbearably teasing, even for you. 
Wonwoo lets out an obscene, strained moan, fingernails digging into your waist, but you’re too focused on rocking your hips to notice. How he wants nothing but to piston his hips into your pussy like there is no tomorrow, he relishes in the feeling of your warmth, tight and gummy around his throbbing member. 
And he finds you might be just as insatiable as he is, especially when you’ve found yourself a steady pace, bouncing up and down, and his name pours out of your lips in such a beautiful manner. Though he can’t just let you have all the control, can he?
“Oh—“ You yip, “Feels so— Good—“ Still unsure of your thought, you explore the feeling, rolling your hips, feeling him stretch your wider, fill your insides and leave you full like you’ve never felt before. 
His hips meet yours half way, chasing your cunt every time you leave and pounding into you when you come back down, filling the room with guttural groans and the lewd sound of skin against skin. 
You run your fingers under his shirt, feeling bare, warm skin, the softness of his flesh against your hands, the definition of his pecs and the way his nipples peek through the fabric. Wonwoo groans at the way your manicured nails scratch at his chest, gathering momentum as you bounce yourself on top of him. 
He notices you’ve started moving faster, practically fucking yourself stupid on his cock and he would tease you halfway through tomorrow if he didn’t find himself in such a similar predicament. His pupils are blown wide, eyebrows furrowed across his brow, pretty lips hanging agape. You’re so utterly perfect and you were all his. 
“Tell me how you feel, baby,” He whispers, slowing down for a second. 
You sigh, nuzzling against his neck, “So good— I can’t even describe it—“ Your words are so airy and mindless, you’ve been consumed by the pleasure he gives you.
He catches the sight of the white rim that pools around his member, a mix of your juices, but it’s gone, sheathed inside you before he can admire it. There’s a poisoning thought that flashes in his mind, a fleeting, tempting picture. Of planting his seed in your womb, watching your grow full with child, his child. How absolutely breathtaking you would look, round cheeks and gorgeous smile, pretty fingers caressing your bump. And he would taint your taut stomach with his cum, watching it drip over your skin.
Wonwoo bites his lips so hard it breaks skin, throwing his head back, willing his mind somewhere else, anything else lest he come undone right then and there. 
Stomach tingling with indescribable pleasure, you lean forward, moaning incessantly, unable to contain your ecstasy. He supports your body, wrapping strong arms around your torso, firm hands planted on your hips, taking over the moving so you can lay still and let the buzz consume your body with its electric touch.
It’s a feeling you’ve never felt before, and it crashes over your body in a colossal wave, building up from the pit of your stomach; sending tingles rushing through your boiling blood. 
You raise your head, eyes meeting his and it seems he is familiar with this pleasure. His left hand meets your face, caressing your cheek, yet holding you still so he can gaze, he can watch you come undone around him. 
Wonwoo watches, unblinking, how your eyebrows furry, your eyes are glossy with tears that cling to your pretty lashes, your lips sit in an enticing pout. Yet you part them, letting out increasingly louder cries of his name. 
And you clench around him like there is no tomorrow, egging him on. He thrusts up into you, riding out your orgasm and chasing his over the edge. 
He crashes his lips into yours, savouring your hazy kiss, your tired sighs and it doesn’t take long before he’s spurting hot white strings into you, it trickles down him and stains the silk fabric of his boxers. 
Soon, he stills all movement except for heavy breathing and the soothing circles he runs over your exposed back. 
He kisses your hair. “How do you feel?”
“Good,” You breathe out, “Tired. But good.” 
His chest shakes with a soft chuckle, he runs slender fingers along your hairline, fixing any hairs that cling to sweaty skin. “Me too.” 
“It felt amazing,” You smile, raising your head to face him. “I’ve never felt anything like it.”
Wonwoo hums. 
“I’m glad it was you, Nonu,” You hid your face against his neck in embarrassment at your own mushy words, but Wonwoo feels their extent, hiding the blush of his cheeks. 
It doesn’t take long before the post-orgasm haze lulls you into sleep. 
And you slept like never before. 
The following morning, Wonwoo wakes up to an empty bed. He panics for a second or two, scrambling to look for your belongings, only to find everything is still there.
Calm, he washes himself up and gets dressed to leave. Finally having a moment to digest the previous night’s events. 
He had made up his mind, he would confront his father. His future was his to decide on. 
Looking for you, Wonwoo reaches the foyer, only to see you leaning against the wall, attached to the payphone. When your eyes meet his, you immediately say your goodbyes, ending the call.
“Who did you call?” Wonwoo crosses his strong arms against his chest and you try to ignore the sight of his muscly forearms peeking from the folded sleeves.
You don’t like his tone. “Seokmin.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Why did you call him?”
“I promised I would,” You shrug. 
Wonwoo can’t believe you would call Seokmin out of everyone, especially after you were glued to him last night at the party. “Why him?”
“He’s worried about you, you stupid— Stupid—“ You choke out on any mean names, simply stomping away from him. 
Why was Wonwoo being so mean so early in the morning? You thought after the amazing night you spent together things would change between you.   Stomping your way back to your room, you grumble under your breath.
While you’re folding your clothes, Wonwoo comes back. 
“I’ll talk to my father,” He announces. 
Before you can say anything about that, he continues. “We’ll get married— You and I, I mean— ” He clears his throat, “Will you marry me?”
Like a deer in headlights, you’re frozen, staring at him big-eyed with a dopey smile on your lips. 
“You’ll marry me?” You question, just in case you’ve tricked yourself into hearing the words you’ve wanted most. 
“Yes. And I— I’ll take full responsibility—“
You smile crashes into the ground. “You want to marry me out of… Responsibility?!” The words choke you on their way out. 
Wonwoo furrows his eyebrows, not understanding why you would be upset. “Do you not want to?”
“No, I don’t want to fucking marry you!” Not like that.
His face falls and he assumes a much scarier look on his face. “What would you rather marry Seokmin, then?”
And in your fury, you blurt out “Yes! Yes, I would rather marry him!”
You realise your rejection hurt him, you do. But you’re so blindsided by your anger you can’t bring yourself to care, not when he sees you as a responsibility. 
Wonwoo is suddenly not so angry, but indifferent. You watch his expression go away, replaced by one much scarier, in your opinion; nothing. A plain poker face. 
“Gather your things and go to the car.”
It’s all he says before he leaves the room. 
The ride back is the most nerve-racking hours you’ve ever experienced. Wonwoo is silent, even you huff and puff under your breath, angrily chewing on your breakfast of vending machine snacks. 
Though he says one phrase as you reach the city. “Leave me here.” 
And that’s the last you saw of him for over a month. 
Your previous anger dries up, turning into sadness. Then you’re furious. And heartbroken until you’ve accepted your reality. You’ve ruined your friendship and lost the love of your life.
It takes your sister plucking you out of bed for you to finally leave your bedroom in weeks. 
She was the first and only person you’ve told about the night spent with Wonwoo. Your parents were absolutely furious that you’d do something so dangerous, though relieved at your safety, they weren’t easy on their words. 
“He’s not doing well, you know,” You sister says. 
You humph. 
“I’m serious. Daddy said he’s clumsy, keeps messing up his work. I think you should go and see him.”
Closing your eyes, you let out a worrisome sigh. You still cared way too much to hear those news and not do something about it. 
So you dress up in whatever you can find and drive to his shop, building up a speech on your way there and practising every scenario. You just hoped everything could go back to the way it was. 
He’s working on an old model, hunched over the hood in his light blue coveralls, stains of grease from head to toe. 
“Knock knock,” You announced your presence, fidgeting with the hem of your dress, looking forward to meeting his eyes as much as you dread to. 
Wonwoo immediately recognises your voice, turning around to meet your eyes. 
And he looks just as wrecked as you felt. Deep-set eye bags and a tired gaze. Yet he still smiles just as handsomely. 
“Hey,” He greets. 
“Busy?”
“No! No,” Wonwoo scrambles, placing the wrench down removing his gloves. 
“Can we talk?”
“Yeah, I actually— I wanted to talk to you, too.”
It’s somewhat relieving as well at it’s worrying to hear him say that, it could be an apology as well as an insult or something of the sort. 
“We should— We should go to my office, someone might come in—“
“Yeah— We should.” You nod.
You walk into his office, one you’ve visited and killed time in quite often. But coming here after everything feels so crushing, all this distance between you. 
“Go ahead—“
“You first—“
You both say at the same time and that seems to ease the stubborn awkwardness pooling in the air. You laugh. 
“How about we say it together?” 
“On 3?”
“1”
“2”
“3”
Breathing in, you say the words that come to your mind from the bottom of your heart. 
“I want to marry you.”
“I love you.”
“What?!” 
“What?!” Once again, you both say it at the same time.
“You want to marry me?” He breaks into a wide smile.
“And you love me?” The words feel so alien to you, you can barely believe your ears, you feel the tips of your fingers shake in excitement, your heart pounds so strongly against your rib cage you can almost hear the thumping.
Jeon Wonwoo just said he loves you.
“I— Are you sure you want to marry me? You said you didn’t want to!”
“Yes. Well— I’ve loved you since forever! So when you said you wanted to marry me just out of responsibility— I was heartbroken! It’s like you were forced into doing it!”
“I didn’t want to marry you out of responsibility! I’ve been planning to marry you since the beginning—“
You choke, “You what?!”
Wonwoo sighs, “I never wanted to marry your sister and she was well aware of that… We were blessed that she found her husband and when everything went well, I thought— I hoped that it’d mean we’d be the ones to be wed.”
Processing every word, you almost feel dizzy. “But you said you’d take responsibility!” 
“For roping you into running away from my party.” 
“Oh.” You’re beyond embarrassed for assuming and above all, for getting so angry you didn’t even let him explain himself. 
“I should’ve been clearer,” He admits.
“No— I should’ve talked to you.”
Wonwoo smiles. “Thank you.”
With tiny tears threatening to fall, you can only confirm what you want to know the most. 
“You love me?”
“Always,” He smiles.
Wonwoo seems to remember something, he raises his finger in a “wait” motion and leans over his desk, reaching for the top drawer. It’s only when you catch a peek of the velvet box that you almost keel over.
Gulping, he gathers his courage.
In his grease-stained coveralls that smells of expensive cologne and lavender cleaning supplies, Jeon Wonwoo gets down on one knee, nervously looking up at your with his stupidly gorgeous beady eyes and an expectant smile.
“Will you marry me?”
And in your least presentable dress, the one he’d ruined with grease stains and an unruly hairdo, you respond with the biggest smile:
“Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”
Had you been questioned, there would be an answer to just how long you will love Jeon Wonwoo.
You’ll love him forever. 
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1K notes · View notes
bratphilia · 6 months
Text
glass window (w. afton x reader)
request: "POOHKIE BEAR HEAR ME OUT!!!! dad's best friend!william. y'all just moved into the neigborhood, and you've been oh so busy with college/working that you hadn't had the time to introduce yourself to william (tho steve for the sake of keeping his identity yada yada) and so like, the moment you get the chance to? william aka steve cannot contain his thoughts abt you oml !! ur just so fucking pretty !! delicate !! those fucking skirts you wear, in the summers of utah (i think thats where the movie/fnaf location is canonically) he'd so.. hungry for you.. bonus points if theres a height/size difference omg JUST HEAR ME OUT POOHKIE!!!- i'll be going under as the 🧚‍♀️ anon!"
note: okay yeah i went a lil crazy with this one but i just loved this request sm. probably my favorite fic ive written so far.
pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader
tags: age gap (reader is college age 18-21 and william is 45-50), creepy and stalking behavior from william, oral sex (m + f receiving), slight dubcon, doggy style, mating press, multiple orgasms, william having insane stamina at his age
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you and your parents just moved to hurricane, utah, aka the most boring town you've ever been to. the second day in your new house, while you were at your criminology class, your neighbor, steve raglan came by to welcome your family to the neighborhood. they mentioned having a college aged daughter. he didn't think much about at the time. it was a passing comment after all.
a few weeks pass by and steve started to become a frequent visitor to your household. however, each of those times you have either been at school or at work. he had no idea who you are.
that is, until one day you come home in the evening after a class while steve is over having a glass of wine with your dad. you close the door behind you to see the door to the backyard open. curiously, you poke your head out and spot your dad with an unfamiliar face, and you stand shyly in the doorway expectantly.
"hey, sweetie," your dad says. "this is steve raglan. our next door neighbor i was telling you about."
you walk towards him when steve holds his hand out for you to shake. "nice to meet you, mr. raglan."
mr. raglan. his ears practically perk up at that. he drinks in your appearance. you're wearing a black, short tennis skirt that stops mid-thigh with a pretty white blouse.
"nice to meet you too," he says politely, trying his hardest not to come across as creepy.
your dad turns to you. "how was class?"
"it was okay. i do have a lot of homework to do, so i should probably go," you say, then turn to steve and wave as you go, "it was nice to meet you again."
his eyes never leave your bare legs as you walk away. and well, he wanted to fucking ruin you.
steve notices something interesting about you while mowing the lawn. there's a gate in the back of your house where he can see a glass door from the angle he's at in the front of his yard. a glass door that, he discovers, is the back entrance to your bedroom.
he decides to make good use of his porch.
at this point, he contemplates buying a pair of binoculars, but that felt like a little too much. for now, he had the view he needed to satisfy him. he even took a few photos that he saves for material to use in his personal time.
unbeknownst to you, steve is absolutely obsessed with you.
his heart skips a beat every time you take a walk in the neighborhood, when, coincidentally, he's sitting on the porch pretending to read a newspaper, and you wave at him and smile. he always returns your smile and waves back kindly.
one day, when you're walking past his house, he notices something gold falling to the ground. when you're out of sight, he goes to investigate, only to find a gold ring that could have only belonged to you. the perfect opportunity. steve waits about a week and keeps your ring with him on top of his nightstand.
sometimes, he notices you like to leave your door open on a particularly hot day. surely you couldn't be naïve to think no one would break in, right? you're just so pretty, who knows who could follow you home from the shadows.
on one particularly hot day, you leave your door open. almost invitingly. and steve watches as your mom's car passes by his house, going out, while he knows for a fact that your dad is working. it's his time to strike.
steve makes his way across the street and through the back gate. he looks through the window to find you reading a book while sitting on your bed. he taps on the glass to get your attention. your eyes snap from the book to the door to see him standing there.
"hi, uhm, can i help you, mr. raglan?" you say, getting up. you look shocked, clearly a little freaked out he came through the back of your house, he presumes.
steve smiles and walks in uninvited, making you back up a little as he steps closer. "hi stranger, i just wanted to return something of yours that you dropped a few days ago."
he turns up the ring in his hand and watches your eyes widen. "i've been looking all over for this! thank you so much."
steve watches as you take the ring from his palm and slip it back on your finger. "you know, i've been wondering something."
you look up at him. "what's that?"
he chuckles lightly and closes the door behind him. "i can't help but notice that you like to leave your door open, and i just wonder how you possibly think that's safe for you."
"i—i don't know what you mean," you say, confused. you fidget with ring on your finger nervously, not liking the direction this conversation is going in.
"well, you know just about anyone could come in here and take advantage of you. you wouldn't want that, hmm?" he asks, stepping towards you and cupping your jaw. "or maybe you would. is that why you do it?"
you inhale. "mr. raglan, i don't think this is appropriate—"
"neither is the way you've been teasing me, little girl," steve retorts and you flash him a scandalized look. "oh, come on, don't think i don't notice. your short skirts showing off that even tinier figure and the way you always seem so eager to get my attention. i know the game you're playing."
he cups your jaw as his tongue swipes across your bottom lip for entrance. you grant him access and he slips his tongue into your mouth. it's a slow, sensual kiss. you're moaning into his mouth as he takes full control. 
steve's hands travel from your face, to your waist, and to your ass to squeeze. you whimper into his mouth and he laughs lowly against you. 
slowly he breaks away from you. "take off your clothes and get on the bed on all fours. now." 
you make a show of taking off your clothes for him. you keep eye contact with him as you unbutton your shirt and discard it mindlessly. then you reach around your back to unclasp your bra, baring your chest to him.
"beautiful," he comments. "take off your panties but keep the skirt on." 
you do what he says and get in the lewd position steve requested a moment ago, mind racing with what he would possibly do to you. you grip the sheets almost nervously and rub your thighs together to relieve the tension in your core. 
steve practically saunters over to you and gives a low whistle. "such a pretty pussy." 
you blush realizing your skirt rode up to your waist. you shiver when he places a cold hand on your ass, kneeding it roughly. 
"ooh," you moan, arching your back needily, making him laugh.
"need it that bad, huh, baby?" 
"yes," you say quietly, turning head around to look at him. 
"don't worry, honey, i'll take good care of you," he says with a twisted smile. 
he leans forward to press a kiss on your slit, moaning at the wetness that drips onto his lips. he wastes absolutely no time eating you out and laps at your pussy like a starving man. you can't bear to look at him anymore, the obscene noises of him slurping causing your face to burn with embarrassment.
you can't help but push back against his face much to his delight. you can feel his beard scratching against you, as delicious as you imagined. the friction of him smothering his face into you is making you whimper and moan helplessly. you wish you could grasp onto him or close your thighs, but this position and being completely at his disposal makes it all the more hotter.
he smacks kisses on your clit, sucking and rolling the sensitive nub around with his tongue. one particular harsh suck where he tugs on your clit ever so gently with his teeth has you coming on his face. he keeps going until you're squirming and begging him to stop.
he pulls away from you almost remorsefully. "thanks for the meal, babe," he says, wiping his mouth. something that would have otherwise made you cringe in disgust if it didn't come from him.
"ready for my cock, sweet girl?" he asks.
you can only murmur out a "mhm" as you were already too fucked out to verbalize anything.
he just laughs at your disposition. "don't get too tired on me yet, sweetheart, i still have so much planned for you."
the clinking of metal gets you excited all over again. he pushes into you with a groan. "fuckin' tight like a vice," he curses.
he thrusts into you experimentally, gaging your reaction for which angle makes you moan the loudest. when he finds the right one, he picks up the tempo instantly. your room is filled with the noises of his balls smacking against your ass, his grunts and your incessant moaning. he wraps a hand in your hair and the other rests on your hip for leverage.
"you like that, baby? like the feeling of me inside you?" steve asks you teasingly but you can barely respond. "fuck, you feel so good around me. my good girl."
"please, let me come," you whine desperately, bucking your hips backwards so it meets his thrusts.
"i will, honey, i will."
suddenly he flips you over so you're on your back and bends your legs in half. the manhandling is an added bonus. "i want you to look at me when you come, okay?"
"okay..." you mumble, letting him use your pussy for whatever he pleases at this point.
one specifically hard and calculated thrust has you reeling. your orgasm is definitely in sight. you can feel your stomach begin to coil, ready to snap.
"mr. raglan!" you draw out the syllables of his name, signifying you're close.
"ngh — keep calling me that, honey, it's so fuckin' hot."
you can feel him close as well as his grunts and groans grow louder and his thrusts get more erratic and shallow. he decides to drill into you even harder for the sake of your own orgasm, making you almost scream out his name as you squeeze your eyes shut and come.
he pulls out before he finishes and beckons you over to him. "suck me dry, baby. want you to taste yourself on me when i come."
tiredly, you sit up and take is cock into your mouth. since he's already close he takes the initiative to thrust into your mouth while you gag around him. the noises you're making only add to his arousal.
he's grunting incoherent dirty praises, about how good and tight your mouth feels, and how you're such a good girl for him. he comes with one final, drawn out groan as he throws his head back. spurts of his ejaculate shoot down your throat and you try your best to swallow what he gives you, but some dribble down your chin.
you pull your mouth off of him and he brings his lips to your for another kiss, licking the remnants of his orgasm from your lips and chin. when you pull away breathlessly he's grinning from ear to ear.
"so good f'me," he compliments sweetly, making you smile.
maybe hurricane isn't so bad after all.
2K notes · View notes
moumouton4 · 6 months
Note
PLEASE DI THE FREINDS WITH BENEFITS WOTH ADRIAN/CAHT NOIR🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼 IM SO INTERESTED. maybe Adrian and reader like have a thing going on secretly and get give each other longing glances, like a have lidded gaze or something. Please my Curiosity is getting the best of me
Friends With Benefits || Adrien Agreste x reader
A/n : This is something I've been thinkg about since I started writing fics ! I hope y'all will like it 😍 It's gender neutral but I had a female in mind when I wrote
Warnings : no mention of gender for reader, friends with benetifs, slight exhibitionism, shower sex, wall sex, piano sex ?, rough sex, soft sex, mention of erection, 18+ READERS ONLY and wrap it before you tap it
Masterlist ⚜
I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it
Word count : 910
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There is definitely something going on between the two of you. Though no one seems to have noticed for now. There is only Marinette who is suspecting you, but she suspecting everyone so you know she isn’t a threat
He introduced you as a childhood friend but in reality you’ve only known each other for less than a year
You met one day as he was on his way back home as he was still in his Chat Noir outfit. He still had some time when he spotted you, so he decided to try his chance and talk to you
To his surprise you were as interested as he was. And even if at first he was a bit wary about letting you discover his true identity, after some time and because of how horny you were you just couldn't resist but jump each other’s bones
Since that day you’ve been friends with benefits. He’d come to you after a long day as a hero in Paris to release that pent up energy or after whatever the hell he did either it was for school or for his work
He is addicted to you, and you to him. You see each other at least once a week, it’s usually three or four times a week. Either at yours or at his home
Depending on how tired you both are you’re either going to fuck like you’ve never before or cockwarm him. It really depends. Sometimes he is more into making some cocky and teasing jokes, resulting in some giggly sex. But it’s also most of the time so intense it leaves you both breathless
One of his favorite thing is having you nice and slow in his bed, but sometimes fucking you against the tiled wall of his shower is everything he needs to finish his day smoothly
He also takes you on his piano
You’re always careful not to leave any bite or purplish mark on his skin in places that aren’t covered with clothes
He is shameless about leaving some on you though. You’re his and even if people don’t have this detail, they will at least know you’re taken
Poor baby is bad at relationship but he still want you for himself
You guys had had sex in a lot of unusual places. Either on the top of historical monuments like the Eiffel Tower or the Arc de Triomphe but also on the roofs of buildings in the warm summer evenings. He’d set a blanket there and you’d cuddle some time before getting started
The tension between you two when you’re in the same room is unbearable, but since everyone think you’re friends, no one catch it
His eyes are always on you, piercing and following your every move as if he was in his cat costume. There is no part of you that is left unexplored. If your cleavage is in display his eyes are going to drown in between the tender flesh and if your pants leaves no doubt about the curves of your ass and thighs his eyes will be stuck on them too
If your sitting side by side his hand will surely caress your leg under the table
But most of the time - and since then you joined the class - the only thing he can do during those moments is to send you long and ardent gazes. You’re the only thing he is interested and attuned to at the moment
His eyes squint slightly as he gives you another longing glance. He feels so horny right now and the tent in his pants gives it all away. He has 45 more minutes to calm down before the end of the class
At the end of the class you go to your locker. Classes just ended and you just want to go home and lie down while chilling. The room is currently empty but behind you feel a hot breath grazing your neck. Then an arm circles your waist and draw you nearer
The smell of his cologne makes it clear for you that it’s Adrien. You lean against him and his strong arms hold you tighter
“‘missed you a lot in there” his fingers played teasingly with the help of your shirt “What about tonight 21:00 at yours ?” ( 21:00 = 9 pm )
“I’ll be waiting for you then” you whispered, so that if anyone was around they couldn't hear you
“I’ll be looking forward to this princess” he murmured before planting a quick kiss on the corner of your mouth
When you turned around he saw the smirk on your face “What is it about ?”
You pointed at the tent in his blue jeans
“Shoot !” he muttered “J-just get back home safely o-okay. I’ll take care of this” he looked around to be sure no one was in sight
“You sure ? I could lend a hand”
He blushed, shaking his head, he just knew that if you guys were to start something there you wouldn’t be finished at least an hour after the school closes “Yep I’ll be quick. See you later beautiful” he gave you a quick kiss before carefully making his way out and unnoticed of the locker room
At the end of the day ( pun unitented ) he got to your home 30 minutes earlier than intended
But it was all all the thrill of being his friend with benefits after all, a surprise was always hidden behind another
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shadesslut · 7 months
Note
Hi!! I have a suggestion for kinktober! Could you please write a fic about ethan and y/n being childhood bestfriends then taking eachothers virginities in college? Please make it very sweet and fluffy
𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓴𝓽𝓸𝓫𝓮𝓻 DAY 7
Virginity
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MINORS DNI
Pairing: (Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader)
Content Includes: (Fluff, smut)
Main Masterlist
𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓴𝓽𝓸𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽
🦇
🦇
🦇
Y/N could say her life was pretty good and she wouldn’t be lying. She had a good group of friends, enrolled in classes she actually liked, and was happy with herself. The only problem was that she was madly in love with her best friend of eight years. 
He was currently on his stomach as he watched a movie peacefully on her bed. She was at her desk working on homework. 
Ethan groaned for the umpteenth time, causing Y/N to roll her eyes. She spun around in her chair, stopping to be facing him. “What is it now?” 
Ethan rolled on his back, his arms sprawled out. He bent his head backwards to rest on the edge of the bed and looked at her. His curls bounced back as he pouted. “I’m bored. You said it’d take thirty minutes, not thirty hours.” He complained. 
“It’s been an hour.” 
“So you admit it’s been more than thirty minutes?” 
She dryly laughed before spinning back to her desk, earning a groan from Ethan. The truth was, she hadn’t got a single drop of work done. The whole time she had been texting a boy from her class, Greg. 
He sneakily walked over to her and peeked over her shoulder. His face dropped upon seeing her phone. Ethan looked at her sadly, but shook it off as he grabbed her phone. 
“Ethan!” 
Ethan giggled mischievously as he held her phone in the air away from her. She pulled on his arm, but she knew he was ten times stronger than her. 
“Who’s Greg?” He cooed as he teased. He scrolled through the text thread. 
“Ethan give me my phone back!” She yelled as she clawed at Ethan’s chest. His stomach only bubbled with laughter as he held his free hand out to push her away. 
Opposite of what Ethan thought he’d find, Y/N was scared Ethan would see the texts from Greg giving Y/N advice on asking Ethan out. “Wow you’re sending him outfit ideas?” Y/N’s eyes widened as he teased further. “You never send me outfit ideas.”
“Ethan please,” she pleaded. 
Ethan only put on a faux smile as he continued to scroll. His thumb froze on the screen, and his smile faded. His eyes rolled over the words as his arm lowered, allowing Y/N to snatch her phone from him. 
She nervously looked to her phone, seeing Ethan stopped on the texts she didn’t want him to see. 
Greg 
you won’t be happy until you tell him y/n
9:45 pm
Y/N
I cant
Hes my best friend everything would go to shit
9:46 pm
Greg 
Just give it a chance
Maybe he likes you!
9:48 pm
Y/N
I doubt it
He’d probably hate me if he knew
9:51 pm
Her face turned warm as she read the messages, and Ethan stood still. “How could you think I could ever hate you?” Ethan asked smally. 
“Because it’s weird,” she slumped her shoulders, turning away from Ethan. Ethan placed his hand on her shoulder, and he tilted his head to look around her shoulder. 
“It’s not weird. I like you too.” Ethan smiled nervously. “I have for a while.” 
“Really?” She asked, finally turning to him. He nodded and placed his hand on her cheek. They looked at each other for a moment, and then she yanked on his collar, pulling him into a rough kiss. Ethan moaned softly as her lips moved against his. 
It was better than she could ever imagine. His lips were soft and felt as if they were molded to fit against hers. She snaked her hands up his chest, and Ethan’s hands went to her hips. He pulled her closer to his body, earning a gasp from her. 
He backed them up towards her bed, pulling her down with him as he sat on the edge of the bed. His cheeks glowed a light shade of red at their position. 
“Y/N,” He trailed off in a whisper. He played with the hem of her shirt as he looked down. 
“Yes?” She answered softly. 
He pecked her lips. “Are you a virgin?” 
She laughed slightly, and she ran her fingers through his curls. “You know I am.”
“I didn’t know. I thought you and that one boyfriend…” She shook her head. “Good. I-I wanna be your first. I wanna be the one that takes your virginity away. I wanna be the first one inside you.” Her face grew warm at his words. His hands slowly moved under her shirt, reaching to the waistband of her shorts. “I wanna be the first dick you ever feel stretch you, hell, the only dick. I’m all yours, and you’re only mine.” 
He ravished her neck with his lips, and his hand reached to her panties. He smiled against her neck as he felt how wet she was. 
“Y-You’re a virgin too, right?” Y/N asked. 
Ethan nodded as he pulled away. He stretched her with two fingers, slowly curling deep inside of her. She whined softly as her eyes closed. “Please, Eth, I need to feel you.” 
“You are feeling me, sweetheart.” 
She shook her head. “Need to feel your cock inside me, please.” 
He smirked, pulling his fingers out of her. He let her unzip his pants as he pulled her shirt over her head. His eyes froze on her tits, and he practically drooled. “Fuck,” He held her shorts and panties to the side with his fingers, and he pulled his cock out, teasing her entrance with his head. 
“Wait,” Y/N suddenly said, voice lacing with concern. Ethan immediately retracted his hand as his cock bounced against his stomach as he let go. “What if I’m not good enough for you?”
“Babe, I don’t know what I’m doing either. I think you should be a little more worried than me.” 
“I guess, but,”
“Nah,” Ethan cut her off. “I promise you, you will make me feel good. Even if you’re the worst at having sex,” she slapped at his arm playfully. “I will love every part of it. Because I love you, and I will feel all of you. And that’s enough for me.”
Y/N sweetly smiled at his words. “Okay, I’m ready.”
Ethan looked at her longingly, before continuing his previous actions. His head was barely in her entrance, his precum dripping into her hole. Slowly, he thrusted his hips, shoving half of his dick in her. She inhaled sharply at the pain of the stretch. Ethan stopped, letting her adjust to his size. It took everything in him not to throw her on her back and pound into her. But he knew he had to be patient, he needed to be slow for her. So she could feel good her first time too.
After a moment, he thrusted his hips upwards, going deeper inside of her. She gasped, but rolled her hips with him. Ethan shut his eyes as she clenched around him. 
“Fuck, fuck, wait,” Ethan whimpered, pausing his movements. Y/N froze in fear as she looked at him. Did she do something wrong? “I’m gonna cum soon, fuck.” 
She dryly chuckled and kissed his cheek. He nodded, and he started moving again. Knowing that he’d probably finish soon, she reached her hand down to start rubbing circles against her clit. Ethan’s eyes flicked down as he panted. He replaced her hand with his, and he used his free hand to grip her hip, moving her forwards and backwards against him. 
Soft moans and grunts came from the two of them. Both of their bodies moved against each other, sweaty skin slapping. Y/N felt it, felt her stomach heating up, twisting. She was making love for the first time, with the boy she loved, and she was actually going to finish. Ethan was getting close too. He bounced her on his cock as he whined, his fingers still rubbing her clit. 
First it was Y/N, she came around his cock, clenching tightly around him with her walls. Ethan jerked his hips, and his mouth parted open to groan loudly. 
“I love you, fuck, I love you so much.” He whined as he kissed her sloppily. He moved his hips again, stopping as he was all the way inside of her, cumming. She ran her fingers against his chest soothingly as he breathed heavily. “Did I, mm, did I do okay?”
She kissed him in response, sucking on his bottom lip. “Amazing.”
“By the way,” 
“Hmm?” Ethan hummed, his eyes gazing at her lips. 
“I love you too.”
566 notes · View notes
ww2yaoi · 29 days
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[here's a little taste of a multi-chapter clegan post-war fic I've been working on. note: I've taken creative liberties with the timeline and John and Gale's post-war lives. it's very much intentional]
Winter 1948
Marjorie Cleven dies on a Tuesday in December, two weeks before Christmas Eve.
John gets the call a few days later. Gale’s voice is steady on the other end of the line, but John knows his heart is broken. It’s the first time they’ve spoken since Marge got sick. After the wedding, there had been some letters exchanged, few and far between, but John has always been a crummy pen pal. There were reunions, but those were annual at most, and John rarely stuck around past a couple of drinks and a war story or two. When they got back stateside in ‘45, he thought the distance would be good for Gale, thought it would help put their past far behind them.
Now, in hindsight, it seems futile. John feels it all rushing back, like VE Day was just yesterday and Gale’s boots are still underneath his bed.
It’s warm in southern Florida. The sun beams down on the tarmac, hot enough to fry an egg on the airfield, sunny-side-up. John watches from the control tower as planes taxi below him. His trainees will be on furlough soon, but he won’t be going home for Christmas this year. Any excuse to maintain the two thousand miles between him and Gale.
It doesn’t last. John should’ve known he could never keep away for long.
Spring 1949
The back of the cab smells like menthol cigarettes and cheap cologne. John drums his fingers against his thigh, feeling suddenly restricted by his uniform now that he’s been let loose in the civilian world. Laramie, Wyoming passes by his window, a cluster of shops and banks and schools on a stretch of agricultural land bisected by historical railways and boxed in by mountains on all sides. The air is thinner here than in Manitowoc, and there are no waterfronts to be found. The terra firma is dusty and brown, the sun a sepia pinprick hanging low in the sky.
The cab weaves through neighbourhoods of modest-looking houses. John had handed the driver the address on a slip of yellowy paper, which Gale had relayed over the phone. John doesn’t know how close they are to his destination, but he can feel his anxiety rising like bile in his throat. He makes nervous conversation, the driver mentioning the geology museum, the fact that the town was named after a French fur trapper who disappeared somewhere in the mountains. It doesn’t do much to calm John’s nerves.
“What brings you to Laramie?” the driver asks, glancing up at the rear-view mirror to get a glimpse of John.
He’s young, probably around Gale’s age. Young enough to have served at least, but he doesn’t comment on John’s uniform. He just peers at him curiously, eyes darting back and forth from the road.
“Visiting an old friend,” John says and tries not to squirm uncomfortably under his gaze. “He goes to school here.”
A moment later, the cab slows to a halt outside of a quaint-looking bungalow. John regards it from his window: white siding, yellow door, slate roof. Rose bushes line the walk-up, not yet blooming, and the grass has recently been mowed.
“Thanks,” John says, fishing a few bills from his pocket and handing them to the driver. “Keep the change.”
The driver smiles at him, close-mouthed, and pops the trunk. John slowly gets out of the car, like he’s trying to delay the inevitable, then fetches his suitcase from the back. He rests it on the sidewalk for a moment while the cab speeds away, looking at the house once more. A gaggle of kids darts down the street on bicycles. A few doors down, a lawnmower springs to life. It’s picturesque, like a postcard Gale might’ve sent him a few years back. John immediately feels out of place, still used to Nissen huts and crowded mess halls and military time. If he wants to turn back, now’s his chance, but he picks up his suitcase from the ground and forces his feet forward, climbing up the porch steps.
He thumbs the doorbell and it chimes. A dog barks gruffly inside the house. John removes his cap from his head and smoothes out his hair. He feels ridiculous, like a socially awkward teenager picking up his sweetheart for prom. His heart is in his throat as the door opens gradually, almost startling as a golden retriever pokes its head through the opening. It squeezes outside and dashes into the yard, yelping happily.
“Archie, get back here!”
John recognizes that voice. The door opens all the way, and suddenly, Gale is standing in front of him. Everything John had thought to say on his way over dies on his tongue. Gale looks practically the same, if not a bit filled out in his middle than he was during the war. His cheeks are smooth and shaven, flaxen hair styled off his forehead in a coif. John could never get used to seeing Gale in civilian clothes, but that’s how he appears in front of him now, crisp, white button-down hanging off his shoulders, navy slacks belted around his waist and brown cap-toe shoes on his feet.
They look at each other for a moment, unspeaking, then a smile splits Gale’s face in two. “Hello stranger,” he says.
“Gale.” John can’t help but return his grin. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
He holds out his hand for Gale to shake it, but Gale takes one look at his outstretched palm and instead, pulls John into a hug. It surprises John, so much so that almost all the air shoots out of his lungs at the contact. Gale’s fingers meld into the muscle of John’s back. It takes John a moment, but he eventually returns the gesture, squeezing Gale gently. They part and Gale turns his attention towards the dog, Archie, who’s taken it upon himself to start digging around in the garden.
Gale whistles. “Come here, boy,” he shouts, clapping his hands, and Archie bounds over.
He pauses to sniff John’s shoes. John crouches down and pats the dog, rubbing his ears, and is instantly reminded of Meatball.
“He’s usually not so ill-behaved,” Gale says. “He gets excited around visitors.”
“I don’t mind,” John replies, smiling down at the dog.
Archie pants, long, pink tongue hanging from his mouth, then he retreats back inside the house. Gale reaches down and picks up John’s suitcase from the porch. John straightens. They look at each other again, a bit too long without words to be comfortable, but John knows they’re both adjusting to being in close proximity again after so long.
“Lead the way,” he says, motioning towards the open front door.
Gale seems to snap out of it. “Of course, come on in.”
John steps inside the foyer and closes the door behind him. The interior is small, but well-decorated and tidy. The ocean blue walls are hung with artwork, the hardwood floors carpeted with rugs. John sets his cap down on a table peppered with framed photographs but doesn’t stop to look at any of them. He follows Gale past the dining room, down a hallway, and through the kitchen to another hallway at the back of the house. Gale opens one of the four doors that line the hall and carries the suitcase inside. John peeks his head into the guest bedroom. A double bed sits against the far wall, night tables on either side of it that host brass lamps with cream shades. On the other end of the room is a cherry wood wardrobe and an armchair to its left, upholstered in a muted green. Above it lies a square window, lace curtains pulled together to drown out the harsh afternoon light. The bedroom is sparse and unlived in, like most guest bedrooms are, but John appreciates it just the same.
“Hopefully this suits you alright,” Gale says, setting the suitcase down beside the bed.
John nods. “Suits me just fine,” he says. “Better than what I have back at base. That’s for sure.”
Gale looks at him. An emotion John can’t exactly pinpoint passes over Gale’s face, something like recognition, bordering on wistfulness.
They return to the kitchen, and Gale beckons John to sit down at a round table in the corner. Archie laps water from a bowl as Gale putters around the kitchen, opening cabinets. He appears tense, but not in his usual stiff, reserved way. His energy is almost jittery, nervous, and he taps a rhythm on the countertop. It’s not like him, at least not like the Gale John knew during the war. He pretends not to notice.
“So, how was your flight?” Gale asks eventually.
“Good,” John says and adjusts his uniform, crossing his legs. “Felt strange not being the one flying the plane.”
“I’ll bet,” Gale replies with a suggestion of a smile. “Do you want something to eat? Some coffee?” He reaches into the cabinet and produces a tin of Foldgers.
“Just coffee, thanks,” John says.
He looks around the kitchen as Gale spoons coffee grounds into the machine. His eyes trace the checkered red wallpaper, the white-tiled backsplash, the laminate countertops, the icebox in the corner. He’s never seen Gale in such a domestic setting, not even during the wedding. Maybe that’s why he stayed away for so long, even when he was invited time and time again. Perhaps he didn’t want to experience Gale so far removed from the world they both inhabited for so many years, a world where the only people they could rely on were their men and each other. Now, there’s no avoiding it. It’s all laid out for John to see.
The coffee maker beeps and steams. Gale rests his elbows against the kitchen counter and looks over in John’s general direction, but doesn’t quite meet his eyes. John doesn’t know what to say to him. He doesn’t know how to fall back into the easy camaraderie they had at the beginning, before the stalag, before the march, before the end of the war. Seeing Gale has ushered back a slew of emotions John has been distancing himself from since they parted ways four years ago. He feels like an intruder in Gale’s home, looking for Marge in the corners of the room but not finding her. Guilt stirs in his stomach, and he asks himself again what the hell he’s doing here. This isn’t his place. This isn’t his life.
“How’s training?” Gale asks. “Are the boys following their orders, Lieutenant Colonel?”
John smirks at that, partly to hide his discomfort. It feels wrong that he should outrank Gale after everything they’ve been through, flight school, then serving together, then imprisonment.
“It’s busy,” John replies and drums his fingers against the table. “They’re good kids. Fucking caterpillars though. So damn young.”
Gale smiles softly. “Were we ever that young?”
“Maybe you were,” John quips. “I feel like my bones have been creaking since before our war even started.”
Gale laughs, and the sound hits John like a fist to his sternum. He realizes suddenly that he’s missed Gale’s laugh so goddamn much. It rings in his ears, out-of-reach and yet familiar, like a favourite song of his he hasn’t heard in years has come on the radio out of the blue. For a brief moment, John regrets denying himself this for so long, even if it was the only way he could get on with his life.
“How’s school?” John asks in turn. “Master’s coming along?”
“Yeah, it’s good,” Gale says, nodding. “I like my classes. Lots of grading, lots of writing, some teaching. I’ve got a meeting on Tuesday with my advisor about my thesis.”
“Well, well, look at that,” John says, the corner of his lips twisting into a grin. “Professor Cleven.”
Gale dips his chin towards his chest, almost shy. “Not just yet, John.”
“You’re getting there,” John says. “Y’know Marge wrote to me about your thesis a year or so back, not that I understood a word. Astrophysics, not exactly my wheelhouse.”
Gale’s face falters imperceptibly at the mention of his late wife’s name, and John immediately feels apologetic for bringing her up without much warning.
“It’s not done yet,” Gale says flatly, his gaze falling from John’s face to look at his interlocked fingers resting on top of the counter. “You can read what I have though if you’d like.”
“Yeah, I might,” John says and grimaces at his own inadeptness while Gale’s eyes are elsewhere.
The coffee maker beeps and Gale goes to it, removing two mugs from the cabinet and setting them down beside it. He takes the sugar out of the cupboard and the cream from the icebox.
John bites the inside of his cheek, knowing what he needs to say but unsure if he has it in him to say it. “Buck?”
Gale’s head snaps up at the sound of the nickname. He regards John with a puzzled look, like he’s no longer used to being called anything other than Gale to his face. The name is a relic from a different time, John supposes, something that belonged to them only, and when John was no longer around to use it, there was no one else around to take up the task.
After a moment, the expression on Gale’s face smoothes out. “What is it, Bucky?”
John swallows, then pushes the words out. “I’m sorry, y’know, that I, uh, I couldn’t make it. To the funeral.”
Gale looks at him for a moment, then his face softens. “It’s alright,” he says. “Marge didn’t much like being the centre of attention anyway.” He pours coffee into the two mugs, then adds sugar to one and cream to the other. “My mother-in-law appreciated the flowers you sent.”
“Oh, good,” John says. “Azaleas were Marge’s favourite, right? I remember them from her wedding bouquet.”
Gale’s eyes grow heavy with sadness. He nods. “Yeah, they were.”
As if on cue, John hears a grumbly cry coming from one of the bedrooms down the hall. It starts off quiet, like a baby stirring from sleep, then gradually gets louder until it becomes a full-blown wail. Archie’s ears perk up before he quickly sulks away.
“Sorry,” Gale says as he grips the coffee with sugar and hands it to John. “I just put her down for her afternoon nap, but she’s in that phase where she’s rebelling against sleep.”
John says nothing, frozen in his seat as Gale crosses the kitchen into the hallway and slips inside the bedroom. John had been so caught up in seeing Gale again that he’d almost forgotten. He stares into the inky well of his coffee, too stunned to drink from it.
Gale emerges a moment later with a bundle in his arms. Now calm, the little girl clings to him, her head tucked into the crook of Gale’s neck as she sucks her thumb into her mouth. She’s wearing cream-coloured footie pyjamas with pink roses on them, her curly blonde hair tangled from sleep. Gale draws circles against her back, rocking her slightly from side-to-side. John regards her carefully. She must be at least a year and a half now, much bigger than she was in the pictures Gale had sent him however long ago.
Gale approaches the table where John is sitting. “Lucy, this is your Uncle Bucky,” he says, pointing over at John. “Can you say hello?”
Lucy turns her head and looks straight at John, and John sees the Marge in her face right away, the slight upturn of her nose, the fullness of her cheeks, the pink purse of her lips, but her eyes are all Gale, blue and round and yawning. She quickly looks away, hiding her face back in her father’s neck.
“Sorry,” Gale says again and rubs her back. “She gets shy around strangers.”
John doesn’t expect it to, but the comment stings. The fact that any child of Gale’s could be a stranger to him is borderline unforgivable.
[To be continued...]
148 notes · View notes
seospicybin · 5 months
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SEOSPICY WRAPPED '23
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Since tumblr isn't doing #yearinreview this year so I decided to make my own Seospicy's wrapped. Here it goes:
IN 2023, I WROTE 45 FICS AND 4 DRABBLES WITH TOTAL WORDCOUNT ±605,500 words
TOP 3 MEMBERS:
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LEE KNOW (12 fics)
HYUNJIN (12 fics)
FELIX (11 fics)
TOP 10 FICS:
1. FOLDER 103. Bangchan x reader. (2,842 notes)
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2. TOO HOT TO HANDLE SEASON 1: PART 1 Felix x reader. (2,405 notes)
3. WRONG CROWD. Lee Know x reader. (1,996 notes)
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4. TOO HOT TO HANDLE SEASON 3: PART 1 Bangchan x reader. (1,601 notes)
5. TOO HOT TO HANDLE SEASON 2: PART 1 Lee Know x reader. (1,548 notes)
6. THE FAVORITE. Changbin x reader. (1,417 notes)
7. TOO HOT TO HANDLE SEASON 1: PART 2 Felix x reader. (1,225 notes)
8. PLUTO. Hyunjin x reader. (1,220 notes)
9. ON TOUR: SOUNDCHECK Hyunjin x reader x Felix. (1,205 notes)
10. TOO HOT TO HANDLE SEASON 1: PART 3 Felix x reader. (1,048 notes)
Honorable mentions:
ACES HIGH. Bangchan x reader x Hyunjin. (1,006 notes) ONE BITE. Lee Know x reader. (978 notes)
TOP 5 SERIES (exc. Too Hot To Handle):
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1. THE CROWD. Lee Know x reader. (3,495 notes / 3 chapters)
2. PLUTO. Hyunjin x reader. (2,968 notes / 3 Chapters)
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3. ON TOUR. Hyunjin x reader x Felix. (3,701 notes / 5 Chapters)
4. DON'T THEY KNOW IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD? Lee Know x reader. (975 notes/ 2 Chapters)
5. VIEWFINDER. Seungmin x reader x Lee Know. (754 notes / 2 Chapters)
Thank you to every single one of you who gave my fic a chance and took time to read it. Let's have more fun and stay delulu next year too! 😂🥂❤️
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gojos-thot-patrol · 9 months
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Now Presenting...
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Starring: A Love-Sick Nanami Kento
Synopsis:You and Nanami have been friends for benefits for quite a while now, with no issue! At least, no issue as far as you knew. Kento's caught feelings for you though, and even though he knows he should stay away and get over this crush, he simply can't ignore your 1:45 am "You Up?" text.
Warning: This fic is a drabble containing angst (if ya squint), fluff, and is really just smut with some plot thrown in. Rating NC17, Reader Discretion is advised ;)
Oh, and if you'd like, why not check out my Masterlist?
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Nanami was awake again. It was 1:45 in the morning, and he was awake. Fuck. He sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. He wondered if he should just give up the fight; accept that he was just going to be tired in the morning and indulge his Netflix binging demons. He sighed in defeat, grabbing the remote. Before he could turn anything on though, his phone vibrated next to him. He grabbed it before his brain could fully register what he was doing.
It was 1:45 in the morning. Only one person in the world was going to text him at 1:45 in the morning. He checked his messages and yep. Just as he was expecting. 
One New Message from Darling: hey, you awake?
Nanami was pretty sure he was worth more than a generic “You Up” text. In fact, He knew he was. And he knew that responding to that text was the worst possible thing he could do at that moment. He wanted far more out of this than she ever would. Catching feelings was probably the second stupidest thing a person could do, preceded only by continuing to sleep with the person you have one sided feelings for. He wouldn’t do that to himself.
Yeah, I’m up. Why are you awake?
God damn it Kento. He cursed himself silently for doing this to himself again. One day one day he would grow a spine strong enough to put his phone down when she messaged, or at least put it on silent. But apparently that day was clearly not today. He groaned softly as he propelled himself out of bed, grabbing a shirt to throw on. The first top he touched was an ancient Tool shirt from when he was still in college. He thought about grabbing something nicer, but ultimately threw it on. Not like he’d be wearing it for long anyway. He did manage to put on jeans to look at least a little more put together.
Darling: I’m thinking about you ;) I got a bottle of Blue Label that’s been begging me to open it. Wanna come help me drink it?
Not really. Nanami wasn’t a huge fan of blended scotch. He knew this, he knew you knew this. But, it wasn’t about the scotch, was it?
Johnnie Walker? I’m already on my way.
He hoped the sarcasm read through the text. He hoped the sarcasm didn’t read through the text. He didn’t really know what he hoped for honestly. What he did know was that he wanted to be with you. He was also pretty sure you didn’t want to be with him in the same way, and that he should at least try to get some distance. He wanted to get over this crush. He didn’t want to get over this crush. He grabbed his keys, deciding he’d sort out his tangled emotions some other time. 
🥀🥀🥀
He always felt silly trying to get his nerves together long enough to knock on your door. He was a fully grown man getting butterflies at the thought of being with a girl, it was silly! But, at the same time, it wasn’t just a girl. It was Y/n. It was a girl who had always been there with him, and supported him though some of the darker times in his life. The girl he thought he was going to marry back when he was in highschool. The girl he wouldn’t mind wifing up now if she gave him the chance. But, why would she? He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
You were all smiles when you opened the door, wearing a sleep set Nanami knew you didn’t actually sleep in. It was small, and clung to you perfectly, only a few steps away from being basically lingerie. It made him proud to know you wore it for him. 
“Well hello Gorgeous,” He smiled, placing a hand on your hip and leaning in to kiss your cheek, “Do you always get dressed up so pretty to go to sleep?” He teased.
“Nope, only when I’m expecting company.” You giggled, moving out of the door to let him in. 
“You get company in the middle of the night often?” He asked as he sat on your couch, trying to hide his absolutely unfounded jealousy. 
“Check your phone if you really want the answer.” you said as you closed the door and joined him on the sofa. He chuckled softly, happy to know he was your only late night visitor. You smiled as you curled into his side, taking in his familiar warmth. He wrapped his arm around you to pull you closer. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?” You asked.
“No, not at all,” He assured you, “You know I don’t sleep anyway.” He joked. He’d struggled with insomnia and night terrors for years. If anything, the distraction alone was welcome.
“You really should work on that,” you joked, “Sleep is important you know.”
“You're one to talk,” he laughed, “You’re up too you know.”
“Hey, I tried to go to sleep!” You protested with a giggle, “It’s not my fault I woke up. I had a dream.”
“Is that so?” Nanami asked, tilting his head at you in amusement. “And what were you dreaming about, Beautiful?” you grinned and bit your lip, deciding to use this opportunity to take some initiative. You moved to placed yourself on top of
him, putting one of your legs on either side of his hips and placing your hands on his shoulders for balance.
“I was dreaming about you Kento,” You purred softly to him. He smiled, placing his hands firmly on your hips to keep you stable. God, you always looked gorgeous from this view. It was his favorite way to have you.
“Were you now Princess?” He muttered, “What were we doing in your dream?” 
“This.” You said, leaning down to kiss him. Smooth. He chuckled softly before pulling you in closer, pulling your bottom lip into his teeth. You gasped softly at the gentle pain, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss.
There was something undeniably right about kissing Nanami. The way his mouth fit perfectly against yours, the way his soft lips moved, how he always tasted like strong tea and mint. You would kiss Nanami for an eternity if the world would have let you. And he would have happily obliged. 
His left hand glided up from your hip to tangle in your hair. He gave it a quick, sharp tug, lighting a fire in your core and pulling a soft moan from your throat. Nanami chuckled softly.
“You sound so pretty when you do that.” He said, his right hand moving in between your legs, leaving you clinging to his shoulders for balance. “I want to hear more.” Your shorts were small enough you might as well have not bothered with them. It was only when he moved the crotch aside that he realized why you had.
“Commando huh?” He teased, “It’s almost like you were expecting this.”
“Oh shut up-!” You tried to laugh, but Nanami’s thick fingers running up your slit cut your words off. 
“Oh, I’m sorry Princess, were you saying something? I didn’t quite catch that.” He smirked, swirling tight circles into your puffy clit. You could feel the slick gather between your legs, killing any retort you had before it escaped your lips. Nanami knew your body better than anyone else you’d ever been with, and took every opportunity he could to remind you of that fact when the two of you were together. 
Every movement of his digits sent another wave of illicit electricity through you and to your core. Wave after wave, building up into a riptide pleasure threatening to take you underneath it. You moaned out shakily, your nails digging into his shoulders as you gripped him tighter, getting lost in ecstasy.
And Nanami couldn’t get enough of the sight. You always looked breathtaking, but something about watching you come undone on top of him always set his heart into overdrive. “Fuck, you look so pretty.” He muttered to you, “Feel good?” He asked. You nodded to him. You had about one good sentence left in you, and you wanted to use it for this.
“P-please Sir…wanna cum on your cock..” You whimpered to him, looking up at him from under long lashes. Fuck. Kento was honestly lucky he didn’t cum right then and there in his jeans. You always knew exactly what to say to leave him even further wrapped around your finger, a slave to your every beck and call. 
“Well, since you asked so nicely,” He grinned. He took the opportunity to rip the crotch of your shorts in two, giving him much easier access. You didn’t really care about losing the cheap set, much more interested in unbuttoning Kentos jeans and getting his cock into you. You bit your lip as you got him out. You wouldn’t say this about many guys, but Kento genuinely had a pretty dick.
His hands found your hips, and despite his better judgment his eyes met yours as he guided you down onto his length. This was always his favorite part, the part that played on repeat in his head on nights when you didn’t text him. Watching the way your eyes screwed shut, how you bit your lip, the sharp breath you pulled in as you braced for impact. Fuck. He let out a shaky moan as he finally pushed into you, your velvety walls pulling him even further in.
“Kento, fuck” You moaned out, sharp spikes of pleasure rippled out from your core as he graced your g-spot. You could feel yourself quiver around him. You were so close earlier, you knew you weren’t going to last long now. 
“Jesus christ, you belong in a museum.” Kento mumbled as he took in your features. You were a piece of art to be praised and prized, and he fully intended to make you believe that you were. He bucked his hips up, and you saw stars. 
“You feel so good Sir,” You muttered, tangling your fingers into Nanami’s hair and pressing your forehead to his. Every movement of his hips sent another wave of euphoria through you, only intensifying the tsunami building up inside of you and pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
Nanami was lost. He could feel his heart rate picking up, and it wasn’t from the physical activity he was performing. You were so close, too close. Your soft breathy moans filled his ears, your scent filled his lungs. You felt so, so perfect in his arms. He was convinced only you could make such a sinful act look so divine. Against his will, thoughts of your laugh and your smile entered his mind. 
Memories of the two of you working perfectly together, celebrating all the events in your life together, big and small. You may have seen a friend when you looked at him, or worse, a late night hook up. But when he looked at you, he saw the woman he wanted to build a life with.
 “God, you're perfect Y/n,” He whispered to you, “You’re so fucking good for me, so pretty. So fucking sweet and kind, and fuck. I love you Y/n.”
FUCK.
“Wai, wha?” You slurred, trying to look at him. Nanami was quick though, flipping you off of him and onto your hands and knees before you could see his panicked eyes. He did not just fucking say that, motherfucker Kento! What were you thinking?!
“I said, I fucking love your cunt,” He rasped out, ramming into you with enough force to hopefully knock the memory out of your mind. You found your face shoved into one of your decorative pillows while he rammed into you from behind. The new angle left you screaming profanities into the pillow. Every push of his hips set your blood on fire, creating an inferno inside your core that threatened to burn you alive.
“Kento!” You yelled out.
“Yea, that’s right Princess, say it again.” Nanami said, trying to distract himself from his colossal mistake. It wasn’t hard to do when your pussy was gripping him like a vice, pulling him right back in every time he pulled out. He held your hips tight enough to leave bruises you could take fingerprints off of. He wanted you to remember he was there when he was gone. 
“Kento, please, I-I’m close..” You stuttered out, feeling the knot in your stomach get tighter and tighter.
“Is that right pretty girl?” He asked, pushing into you with a vengeance. This was probably going to be the last time you called him over, he was going to make the most of it. His right hand slipped down your body, and two of his fingers found your clit. He massaged expert circles into it, pulling a truly embarrassing moan from you. His every move sent your nervous system into overdrive. Your head was filling with fluff and your blood felt explosive.
“Then come on. Cum all over my cock like the dirty girl you are.” Something in his words and everything in his movements sang to your pleasure receptors. A few more swirls from his fingers and a few more thrusts of his hips and you were coming undone. The knot inside your stomach exploded into a thousand waves of pleasure and oxytocin. You swear you saw white as the tsunami overtook you. 
And Nanami wasn’t that far behind. The way you seized around him, your warm walls enveloping him and trying to pull him impossibly further in undid him. He barely managed to pull out, cumming all over your back and ass as he did. It was a pretty fucking sight. He would have taken a picture if he was about 40% more coherent. 
You collapsed face first onto the couch, and Nanami braced himself on the back, still breathing hard. His confession was still ringing in his head. Did you buy his lie? Probably not. You were smarter than that. 
Fuck.
Once his breathing started to regulate, he finally stood up, fixing his pants and going to your bathroom. He returned not long later with a warm, damp washcloth, cleaning up the mess he made on your back. You groaned out softly.
“Sorry about the mess.” He muttered once you were cleaned up. His fingers gently traced the outline of your spine before he patted you gently. “Come on, let's get you to bed.” He muttered. 
He threw the rag in your hamper as he got you into your bed. “Stay with me?” You muttered softly. Oh, good. That probably meant you didn’t hear his confession. Or you did and were completely okay with leading him on forever. But, that wasn’t like you. He nodded and laid down next to you, pulling you into his arms. He knew he shouldn’t. He knew it was only going to make things worse for him in the end. But he couldn't help it. All he ever wanted was to be close to you.
“Hey Kento?” You muttered softly.
“Yea Y/n?” He asked softly.
“I love you too.”
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Prompt List
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Hey! I am so sorry for not uploading for like five months! I really want to start uploading again but I think doing so many Taylor Swift inspired prompts burnt me out - if you sent a request or do send one I will get to it just give me time.
Here is a prompt list I'll be using from now on, like always if you have your own idea(s), send them in!
These's prompts include: "dialogue", 'anything in quotations is what the whole fic will be based around', 5 times plus 1, AU's and more!
Send in just one or merge some ideas together!
Click here to add yourself to my tag list! 🤍
_______________________________________________
1 - “You’re in love with her, you know that right?”
2 - “I didn’t know where else to go.”
3 - “I’m replaceable, you’re not.”
4 - “You kept it?”
5 - Leaning their head on their shoulder
6 - “Because that’s what you and I do, we protect each other.”
7 - “I swear on us.” “Why us?” “Because there is nothing I have ever believed in more.”
8 - Person A getting hurt protect Person B
9 - “Hey, calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore.”
10 - “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
11 - “Whatever you do, don’t let go.”
12 - 5 times Person A and B correct people about their relationship status and the 1 time they just accept it
13 - Everything is black and white until you meet your soulmate. The world goes back to black and white when they die.
14 - “For what it’s worth, I never gave up on you.”
15 - Accidental love confession
16 - “You’re staring at him/her again.”
17 - “Give me one good reason why I should trust you?” “Because no matter how much you hate me, you know I have never lied to you.”
18 - “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.”
19 - “If there was ever anybody meant for me, it’s you.”
20 - “You had your chance with her. You had your chance and you blew it, and this is my chance and I am not going to blow it because we are made for each other.”
21 - ‘I still hope there is more to our story. Maybe we just had to fall apart to find each other again one day.’
22 - “You weren’t there…why weren’t you there? I needed you! I needed you and you weren’t there!”
23 - “It’s my job to keep you safe, yes, but you could work with me a little to make it easier.”
24 - “Because I haven’t stopped thinking about you and you haven’t stopped thinking about me.”
25 - ‘I am usually an optimist but I have never hoped for a sad ending like I do for you and her.’
26 - “I can’t say if the day I met you was the best or worst day of my life.”
27 - “Don’t look at me like that.”
28 - ‘Do you think the universe fights for souls to be together? Some things are too strange and strong to be coincidences.’
29 - “She’s my best friend, that’s never changed.” “Yeah, the only thing that changed was your feelings for her.”
30 - “How many fingers am I holding up?”
31 - “You’d die for her?”
32 - ‘He had that awkward tenderness of someone who had never been in love and was forced to improvise.’
33 - “I did it for you, you idiot.”
34 - “If I never see you again just know that I love you so, so much.”
35 - ‘He kissed her. Without warning, without permission. Without even deciding to do it, but simply because he couldn’t have done anything else.’
36 - “I thought you were dead!”
37 - Squeezing their hand reassuringly
38 - “Whatever you do, do not make a sound.”
39 - “I had a nightmare about you and I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
40 - “I can’t do this without you. I won’t do this without you.”
41 - “See? I told ya they’d get together.”
42 - ‘There is some good left in this world and it is worth fighting for.’
43 - Born with your soulmates first name tattooed on your body
44 - ‘There are some people that you meet and you just know from the get go that they are important, that you have to do anything to keep them in your life. He was that person.’
45 - “You came to me, begging me for help!”
46 - “Tell me about your life before all of this.”
47 - ‘S/he would always be my biggest what if.’
48 - “It turns out I’m absolutely terrible at staying away from you.”
49 - One being forced to hurt the other but refusing, getting themselves hurt instead
50 - “Why is it always the people you can’t trust saying “trust me”?”
51 - ‘If you were going to die, I was going to die with you.’
52 - “You can’t sleep yet kid, I need you to stay awake.”
53 - ‘We met at the wrong time. That’s what I keep telling myself anyway. Maybe one day, years from now, we’ll meet in a coffee shop, in a faraway city somewhere and we could give it another shot.’
54 - Five times they wanted to say ‘I love you’ and the 1 time they finally did
55 - “I always thought you were the bravest person I’ve ever met.”
56 - “I’ve never had a family before.”
57 - “I’m not leaving without her.”
58 - ‘Sometimes we do everything right and it’s still not enough.'
59 - “Hey, you’re bleeding.”
60 - ‘We’re in love, we just want to be together. What’s wrong with that?’
61 - “Take me instead. Leave her/him and take me.”
62 - Sitting together on a rooftop
63 - “I think…I’m in love with (Name.)” “Congrats on being the last one to find out.”
64 - Needing somebody else to point out the fact you have feelings for character
65 - “I know we’re not…friends or anything, but…I’m here for you, if you need someone to talk to.”
66 - Drunken kiss
67 - “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”
68 - ‘Home is not where you are from. It’s where you belong. Some of us travel the whole world to find it. Others find it in a person.’
69 - “If I had it my way, we’d never leave this bed.” 
70 - ‘Everything that needs saying, truly saying, begins with a lump in the throat.’
71 - When mysterious injuries appear on your body, it’s because your soulmate got them.
72 - ‘For old times sake.’
73 - “I’m never gonna be good enough for you, am I?”
74 - “Don’t hurt him! Just stop hurting him, please!”
75 - ‘Sometimes there are no words that can help. Sometimes you just need to sit together in silence and try to come to terms with how the world works.’
76 - “When I let a day go by without talking to you, that’s just not a good day.”
77 – “Do you have a plan?” “I have a gun.”
78 - “How long did you think you could hide that?”
79 - “Leave with me.”
80 - ‘She was good and he needed a little good in his life because without it there was an awful lot of darkness.’
81 - 5 places Person A and B have kissed plus the 1 place where they did more than that
82 - “Honestly I wasn’t listening but I always disagree with whatever you say.”
83 - “There’s no way I’m sharing a bed with you.” “You’re more than welcome to sleep on the floor.”
84 - Person B is frowning all the time but Person A can always see when they are happy (Grumpy x Sunshine)
85 - ‘I want you to always remember me. Will you remember that I existed and that I stood next to you here like this?”
86 - “I’ll do it, but only because you asked me to.”
87 - 5 times Person A treated Person B’s injuries, plus 1 time Person B treated Person A’s injury.
88 - ‘Maybe one day we’ll meet again and I’ll be right for you and you’ll be right for me.’
89 - "Dying in the middle of nowhere doesn't seem so bad if you're here."
90 - “Oh no, you’re a morning person.”
91 - “I hate you.” “I love you too.”
92 - “No, don't stop, keep talking. I like hearing you talk.”
93 - “Are you cold?”
94 - “What do you want from me?”
95 - “Look, I know you hate me but I don’t know what to do and I really need some help.”
96 - “I’m not leaving you. Not this time.”
97 - “I wish things had been different.”
98 - “I can’t leave you alone for a second without you getting into trouble, can I?”
99 - “You’re not sleeping?” “Nope.” “Why not?” “Don’t want you to stab me the second I close my eyes.” “I won’t.”
100 - “This isn’t just an (object), it’s a promise.”
148 notes · View notes
wavelikewhat · 11 months
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Heartstrings
Pairing: Producer!Woozi x Producer!Reader (she/her pronouns) Summary: You help Jihoon meet an unexpected deadline for a song and he wonders why he can’t stop thinking about you. Luckily his members nudge him toward the answer. Wordcount: 4.5k Content notes: none Genre/themes/appearances: fluff, strangers to lovers, idol/non-idol, music talk, Hoshi meddling, Seungcheol interrogating, Jeonghan snooping
A/N: So this is technically a fanfic for two fanfics: when I read i look good on you by @seungkwansphd I needed a backstory for them immediately. Then last week I read Live by @wondernus and it felt like it fit into my headcanon, so my mind started filling out how they met and got back together and began a public relationship… So here I am posting my first Woozi fic that is a fake prequel to those two, in a way? Please read those because they are so short and so sweet and will have your imagination (and heart) racing! This story is about how this couple gets together :)
“Ya! Soonyoung!” Jihoon called out.
Soonyoung abruptly stopped dancing and turned around, surprised to see Jihoon in his practice room. “What are you doing here?”
Jihoon got straight to the point, as always. “Do you have the number of the producer who wrote the song you did with Youngji?” he asked as he walked toward Soonyoung at the mirrored wall.
Soonyoung’s eyes widened. “Y/N? Why do you need her number at…” He glanced up at the clock on the wall above the mirrors and added, “11:45 at night?”
Jihoon sighed, exasperated that this ‘quick question’ was turning into a full blown conversation. “I have to finish that song featuring a woman’s vocals. The company wants to hear it tomorrow, but I need someone who can sing on the demo. They’ll have a hard time picturing a woman singing it if I sing it.”
Soonyoung nodded slowly. “That makes sense. Y/N sang the guide for that song. Yes, I have her number.” He walked over to his bag and fished out his phone. “Sent.”
Jihoon’s phone buzzed in his hand, and he looked down to see a notification from Soonyoung. “Thanks.” He turned and headed out of the room.
Soonyoung watched the door close, shrugged, and walked back to the mirrors to practice.
...
[Jihoon - Universe Factory] 23:49 - This is Jihoon, Soonyoung gave me your number. Would you be able to sing on a demo for me tonight? I’m working on a song with a woman’s vocals and the company wants to hear it tomorrow. 
[Y/N] 23:50 - Did you give someone my number?
[Hoshi] 23:50 - Woozi asked me for it. Did he text you?
[Y/N] 23:50 - He did, but I had to make sure it was real
[Hoshi] 23:50 - LOL!
[Y/N - Bespoke Records] 23:51 - Hi! I’m just finishing up at my studio. I can definitely help. 
[Jihoon - Universe Factory] 23:51- Any chance you could come to my studio tonight then? 
[Y/N - Bespoke Records] 23:52 - Sure, send me the location.
...
You stared at your phone in shock. There is no way THE Woozi (and he called himself JIHOON?! like you were actual people who knew each other?) just asked you for help at midnight on a Tuesday. You honestly almost said yes even before your brain had a brief moment of sanity and directed you to check with Hoshi. 
When Woozi asked you to come to his studio you completely froze, re-entering reality only long enough to let him know you could be there. You’d seen clips of him working at the studio and it seemed like such a cool place. You couldn't believe you were really about to go inside.
Woozi (Jihoon, you reminded yourself) even sent a company car to pick you up, which was very thoughtful of him. Then again, you were doing him a huge favor by agreeing to meet him at midnight on a Tuesday. He was lucky you were a night owl. The least he could do was give you a free ride.
All throughout the ride to his studio from yours, you felt like you should be manically texting someone about it, but you were somewhat frozen in shock. You sent a message to your roommate letting them know that you were staying out late to work with another producer, and you gave them the address for “Jihoon’s studio” and made sure location sharing was still turned on for your phone. (Safety first.) You did this frequently enough that they easily replied they'd keep their ringer on and check on you in the morning to make sure you made it back.
You stared out the window as buildings and brightly lit late-night restaurants flashed by. Suddenly, you realized, I am literally living my dream at this exact moment. You lived in Seoul working as a music producer, you had an amazing roommate you loved, you had fun meeting and collaborating with other producers in the business, and you worked on several very successful songs. And now you were about to meet one of the most successful producers in the world. Unreal.
The car arrived at what looked like an average gray building after a 15 minute ride from your studio. The subway entrance across the street told you the building was only one stop away from your apartment on the subway line you rode to work. 
A security guard at the entrance let you in and pointed out the correct elevator. As the elevator doors closed, you heard him on the phone with Jihoon, letting him know you arrived. When the doors opened, you didn’t even have to wander around looking for the right room. Jihoon stood outside one of the doorways and nodded quickly before heading back into a room halfway down the hall.
You took a deep breath and started toward the studio. You had butterflies in your stomach. You didn't follow the group closely, yet among the members you’d always felt particularly drawn to Jihoon, not just for his looks (because he was so handsome you could barely believe it) but for his mind. This was an amazing once in a lifetime opportunity to work with such a talented producer.
When you walked into the studio, it was exactly as it looked in the clips you saw online. He was sitting at a computer and beside him was an empty chair. On the desk were big headphones and a microphone that were both plugged into his system. You’d only seen this microphone model online, and your excitement grew at the chance of getting to use it.
“Thanks for coming over,” Jihoon said as you walked to his desk. “I had a busy schedule today so I didn’t find out until an hour ago that they wanted it so fast.”
“Happy to help. I’m glad you thought of me.” At that moment, he looked up and met your eyes. His gaze was intense and his eyes seemed to stare into you. Maybe this was his work mode.
Shake it off, you told yourself, dropping your bag under the desk and sitting down. Be professional. 
Jihoon played the ballad for you a few times and explained the concept. He sent you the lyrics so you could scroll through on your phone and follow along. You sang along under your breath, shoulders bobbing to the beat. The song was sure to be a hit, but he was correct that it was hard to imagine a woman featuring on the song with his (absolutely incredible) vocals on the demo. 
“Are you ready to record?” Jihoon asked. 
You nodded. You were never nervous the first time you sang something. It was like making pancakes: the first one didn’t count. That was your personal rule. You carefully put on the headphones and settled the microphone in front of you where you liked it.
You sang the lyrics exactly as written with the same vocalization he used in his version. A few times, your tongue twisted over the words. Your gut told you it wasn’t your singing style that was the issue. It felt like the sounds of those particular words didn’t fit those specific bars. As Jihoon played it back for you, you settled in to listen but you still felt some of the lyrics weren’t aligned with the song’s concept or sound.
Jihoon tilted his head and looked at you. It looked like he was calculating something. “What are you thinking?” he asked, turning his chair to face you fully.
You hesitated for a moment, but this was work. Jihoon was looking for your professional opinion as a songwriter. He obviously heard the demos you’d sent Hoshi back when you wrote a song for him and Youngji, and Jihoon liked your voice enough to ask for it on his demo. So this was definitely about work.
“I think a few of the lyrics need to be changed.” You scrolled to the first spot on your phone and pointed. “Right here, these three syllables are clashing against the musical phrasing underneath. You should do two syllables with an elongated vowel.”
Jihoon nodded slowly. “I know what you mean. What about ‘only’ or ‘maybe’ in that spot?” He looked at the lyrics on your phone and sang that section a few times to test out both options. You nodded along, feeling the rhythm of the lyrics.
“Maybe. It fits the concept of the song better.”
“I agree. What else?” 
As you pointed out a few other suggestions, you found yourself much more comfortable working with him than you expected. Sometimes when you met some of the bigger producers for the first time, you felt too starstruck to make any changes to their work. But something about working alone in the quiet studio with Jihoon made your typical unease disappear. His presence filled the room, but his questions were clear and direct and you always knew exactly what he was asking.
Ten minutes later, Jihoon started a second recording, this time with the new lyrics. Despite the late hour, your voice felt strong and your mouth formed every word exactly as you intended. When you finished singing and took off the headphones, Jihoon’s eyes sparkled at you before he spoke. You felt it, too. This was it. You wouldn’t need to lay another track.
“Ready to hear it?” he asked, looking back at the computer and not addressing the fact that you both knew it was going to be perfect. You could hear the note of anticipation in his voice.
“Yes.”
A broad smile stretched across your face as you listened to the entire song. Afterwards, Jihoon turned to you with his phone in hand. 
“Send me your agency’s contact information and the email address for the legal department. I need the KOMCA registration details so I can list your name in the credits.”
And just like that, you officially collaborated on a song with Universe Factory.
...
“Did you end up recording with Y/N?” Soonyoung asked Jihoon as they walked back to the practice room holding fresh iced Americanos.
“She came over that night and recorded the demo,” Jihoon replied, heading up a staircase.
Soonyoung’s eyes bugged out of his head and he stumbled on a step. He grabbed the railing to catch himself. “That night? It was the middle of the night!”
Jihoon shrugged. “She said she could.”
“What did you do together?” Soonyoung asked suspiciously. 
“What do you mean? We recorded the song.”
“That’s it?”
“What else would we do? She helped with the lyrics and I set it up to give her writing credits.”
“Really?”
“Of course I did. She made the song better.”
Soonyoung watched Jihoon out of the corner of his eye. That was one of the nicest things Jihoon had ever said about anyone. Soonyoung took another sip of his coffee, his mind racing as he calculated a hundred algorithms at once. This whole situation was pretty unusual. But maybe, just maybe, his suspicion about Jihoon was correct.
“When are you seeing her again?” Soonyoung asked casually after they reached the top of the steps.
Jihoon cocked his head, thinking. “Maybe I’ll invite her to the recording. She would probably like that.”
Again, Soonyoung stumbled over his own two feet out of shock that Jihoon was considering someone’s feelings, and it wasn’t someone he’d known for a decade. And he didn’t always consider the feelings of members he knew for that long.
“Aren’t you going to buy dinner to thank her?” Soonyoung suggested.
“Is that necessary?”
“It would be the professional thing to do. Wouldn’t you do that if you worked with a guy? And Y/N really helped you meet your deadline.”
Jihoon thought carefully about the suggestion as they approached the door to the practice room. “You’re right. I should treat her to dinner. I’ll send her a message when we’re done.”
“I’ll remind you!” Soonyoung exclaimed enthusiastically.
...
Late at night a few days later, you walked up the hill to your apartment, completely lost in thought. You just finished dinner with Jihoon, and sharing the meal felt as comfortable as when you were recording in his studio last week.
After recording the demo together, he coordinated with your agency to make sure your credits appeared properly on the new song. You also had to sign an NDA about the song, studio location, and spending time with Jihoon. I guess it goes with the territory, you thought to yourself as you signed it. 
During dinner, Jihoon explained the rushed deadline for the demo was because the song would be an OST for a drama starring one of the hottest actors in the country and the drama producers wanted to hear the song. Of course, they loved it and approved it.
It was hard to believe you worked with Jihoon on a song that Dokyeom was about to sing for a highly anticipated drama. It was even wilder that *Woozi* was saved in your phone simply as Jihoon, as if he was just another producer you worked with. And you were so surprised when he offered to buy you a meal to thank you. You should be the one thanking him!
But the simple meal was delicious and the quiet dinner in the small family-run restaurant near his studio (and near your apartment, but he didn't need to know that) was really nice. The owners seemed to know him well and treated him as a son. You knew you would remember the evening fondly. 
Conversation mostly focused on work, but when Jihoon learned where you went to college for music production, it turned out you had learned from his mentors. He shared some genuinely entertaining stories from when he was starting to learn production software and recording tools. 
It all made him more… real, and less of a person you just saw in videos on your phone. You sort of couldn't stop thinking about him, and as you walked up the steps leading to your apartment building, you found yourself mentally scrolling through all your draft songs to see if he might want to work on one with you.
...
[Jihoon] 21:09 - Would you be interested in coming to Dokyeom’s recording on Tuesday?
[Y/N] 21:15 - I would love that!
...
Through the glass of the recording booth, Jihoon watched you chatting with Dokyeom like you were old friends. He felt his stomach twist but couldn't figure out why. 
Dokyeom had convinced you to record one track where you sang with him, even though they had a famous singer scheduled to record that verse tomorrow. So there you were, giggling with Dokyeom in the booth.
"Ready?" Jihoon asked over the booth speakers. He watched you and Dokyeom giggle yet again over the grumpy tone of his request before settling in around the mic.
Jihoon began the recording and heard your voice pipe through his headphones. Dokyeom added unplanned adlibs underneath, which Jihoon grudgingly acknowledged worked better than what he'd suggested.
It was so odd that Jihoon felt so protective of this song when it wasn't even his song anymore. You had made it so much better, and now the two singers were going to apply their own professional minds to the song. This is how it always went.
So why was he jealous of not being on the track himself? Of not being the one in the booth with you? Jihoon saw Dokyeom tap you on the shoulder to encourage you to join him on the final vocal runs. Oh yes, he was definitely feeling weirdly jealous over you two for some reason.
The music ended and you looked through the glass directly at Jihoon, eyes shining at him with a huge grin across your face. Jihoon found himself smiling back. You looked really beautiful at that moment.
Dokyeom's eyes widened as he glanced between you and Jihoon. He had never seen Jihoon appear so connected with a virtual stranger. The camera crew appeared to think the same thing, because he saw one of them move to get a close up of Jihoon, and he saw the robotic camera in the booth tilt toward you.
You broke eye contact with Jihoon to take off your headphones and thank Dokyeom for a chance to record the song for fun, and Jihoon shook himself out of whatever bizarre hypnosis he was going through. He headed over to the computer to send this track to his personal email, just in case he may want to listen to it later.
After a few more recordings of Dokyeom alone (his raw vocals were no joke), the three of you chatted in the studio while the engineer finalized the tracks and Dokyeom suggested getting dinner.
"I would love to, but I'm meeting my roommate for dinner," you explained. "We live nearby."
"Invite them!" Dokyeom replied. "Let me pick a spot and send you the location." He scrolled through the map on his phone.
Jihoon tidied the studio and listened to the two of you talk about dinner options. So you lived nearby and had a roommate. For some reason, he liked learning things about you. It must be because you worked together so well.
Dokyeom selected a restaurant and you called your roommate to ask about meeting you and your friends for dinner. You made eye contact with Jihoon when you said that into your phone. "Friends." Were the two of you friends now? Maybe.
...
"Jihoon, did you watch the new behind the scenes video?" Seungcheol asked as they rode to their next schedule.
Jihoon responded without looking up from his phone. "Not yet. It’s been a busy week."
"The fans are going crazy over your recording with Y/N."
Jihoon looked up at the sound of your name. He didn't realize Seungcheol knew who you were. "My recording with Y/N? You mean Dokyeom's OST recording?"
"That's not what Carats are calling it."
Seungcheol held his phone up so Jihoon could see a fan edit of the few clips from the episode that showed you with him in the studio. It ended with a screenshot from Dokyeom's Instagram story showing the three of you at dinner after the recording, in a photo taken by your roommate. 
"What is that all about?" Jihoon wondered aloud. He was genuinely confused.
"Are you two dating?" Seungcheol asked directly.
Behind him in the car, Jeonghan and Minghao immediately stopped chatting. This was far more interesting than their conversation. While eavesdropping, Jeonghan frantically searched your name and Jihoon's name on social media to find the clip Seungcheol was talking about.
"No," Jihoon replied. "We worked together on the song and Dokyeom suggested we have dinner. We had dinner another time, too." 
"That’s it?" Seungcheol asked skeptically.
"What do you mean? That's it."
Seungcheol looked from Jihoon to his phone, where the edit was playing again. Seungcheol agreed with the fans. There were definitely sparks between you and Jihoon. Maybe Jihoon didn't realize it yet. 
By then, Jeonghan had found the clip and was watching it on mute with Minghao. They shared a meaningful look. They would probably agree with Seungcheol on his theory. 
Jeonghan opened his text thread with Soonyoung and sent him a message out of curiosity. "Do you still hang out with Y/N?"
...
You were surprised by the reaction to the behind the scenes video. Most of your friends were excited to see the clips of Jihoon and Dokyeom and kept telling you the video was so cute. 
Back when Dokyeom tagged you on his Instagram story, you explained to your friends that you worked on something with them and it had been an amazing experience. They were all happy for you and excited after the song was released and became so popular.
The fans seemed to have the same reaction as your friends. You were naturally a little nervous about what Carats would say when Jihoon's company asked if you were willing to be recorded. After the video, the fans seemed to think you were adorable and talented and that you worked well with Jihoon. It wasn't the dramatic reaction your roommate predicted.
But your roommate was also convinced you were into Jihoon and he was into you. While that might be half true, despite your denial, nothing in the video showed anything personal between you and Jihoon. Not that there was anything personal between the two of you, but sometimes you felt like he was giving…something. His attention felt more intense than regular coworker attention. You sort of loved having all his attention focused on you.
Nevertheless, you were barely in the video after all, since it was about Dokyeom recording the song. They cut the entire section with the track you sang with Dokyeom. The few clips where you appeared mostly showed you chatting and interacting with Jihoon, and you may have watched one or two fan edits of those scenes.
No matter what was or wasn't going on between you and Jihoon, you would never forget immediately after the music stopped, when the two of you stared into each other's eyes in a perfect moment in time.
Even if he never contacted you again, you would never forget that moment.
...
[Jihoon] 13:30 - I just learned the song was nominated for best OST
[Y/N] 13:31 - WHAT?? Really?? 
[Jihoon] 13:31 - It's your first nomination right?
[Y/N] 13:31 - Yes! 
[Y/N] 13:31 - I can't believe it
[Y/N] 13:32 - I'm in shock
[Jihoon] 13:32 - I asked them to invite you to the ceremony
[Y/N] 13:32 - You didn't have to do that 
[Jihoon] 13:33 - I have to sit with the group, but even if we don't win I want it to be a special night for you
[Jihoon] 13:33 - It's an honor to be nominated
[Y/N] 13:34 - Thank you so much for including me in all of this
[Jihoon] 13:34 - You earned this 
...
"...produced by Woozi of Universe Factory, and written by Woozi of Universe Factory and Y/N of Bespoke Records. This is the first win and first nomination in this category for these songwriters. Please welcome Woozi and Dokyeom to the stage."
Jihoon was actually surprised the song won. The other nominees were very popular as well, but all were produced by groups who wrote many drama OSTs. Seungkwan clapped his back and encouraged him to go up to the stage with Dokyeom as the members cheered and clapped around him. Above the noise, Jihoon could hear the song playing in the background.
As he stood, he took a moment to scan the audience, hoping he might see you. He didn't know where your assigned seat was, only that you weren't at one of the tables at the front with the larger groups and celebrities. He knew you were here because of the excited text messages you sent him after you spotted his table.
Dokyeom led the way to the stage. Jihoon reached the microphone and accepted the award, bowing to the MCs. They stepped back and motioned toward the microphone. Dokyeom nodded encouragingly. Jihoon had done this so many times yet completely forgot what he was supposed to do this time. He wished you were on stage with him.
"Thank you, thank you everyone. Thank you to the company and the drama producers for this opportunity. Thank you to the viewers for appreciating the song from rookie OST producers. Thank you to Y/N, who is also here tonight, for elevating the song to what you hear today. She…" 
Jihoon trailed off as loud applause covered his voice and people seemed to be looking at the screen behind him. He turned to look and his mind went blank. You looked radiant in your elegant dress and glowing smile. 
He'd never seen you in such a beautiful gown (he only saw you in jeans or sweats and he loved that didn't follow all the trends). Your makeup was shimmering on camera (your everyday makeup always wore off by the time you arrived at your late night meetings but you were always beautiful to him). Everything about you was captivating.
He was a man of few words, generally, but right now he was speechless.
Finally, Dokyeom poked his side and nodded toward the microphone forcefully. Jihoon's years of media training kicked in and he turned back to the audience to finish his speech.
"Thank you also to our wonderful singers who brought so much life to the song. I hope we are all able to return to you soon as stronger artists."
When Jihoon returned to his seat, Soonyoung eagerly whispered, "Y/N looks gorgeous, doesn't she? How did you know she was here?"
"I invited her," Jihoon replied. And she does look amazing, he thought to himself.
...
Late that night, many hours later, Jihoon's phone buzzed as he filled a glass of water. He looked at the notification and saw it was a message from you.
[Y/N] 4:13 - Thank you so much for everything. I'm going to remember tonight for the rest of my life. It was an honor to work with you and I'm so proud of the song.
Jihoon looked at the time. Maybe it was too late to call you, but you were clearly up too late thinking about things, just as he was. He tapped the icon to call you and was still a little surprised when you picked up.
“Hello?”
“Hi. I just wanted to say it was a privilege to work with you too.” There was a pause and he awkwardly filled it. “The award will be sent to your company after they engrave it.”
“Oh! Thank you. I’ve never won anything before. It still doesn't feel real.”
Jihoon heard a small thump in the background. It sounded like you sat down. He sat down on the couch himself and set his glass on the table in front of him.
“It would be funny if we worked together again and won another award.”
It wouldn’t be funny, Jihoon thought. It was very possible. You were extremely talented. “Why not? You should send me some of your songs.”
You chuckled into his ear. Something about this made his heart beat faster. “I've been thinking about doing that but I didn't know if you would want to listen to my music.”
“Of course I do.”
The line went silent. 
Jihoon wondered if you could tell how he felt about you. His friends told him women were more perceptive than they expected, especially if you treat them disrespectfully. He tried to treat everyone with respect. But he wanted more from you. He wanted more with you.
“YN? Are you still there?”
“I am,” you replied quietly.
“After you send me some songs, should we have dinner again? Just us. We can talk about the songs.” He paused, thinking of how to put into words what he felt about you. “And anything else on your mind. I really like it when you tell me what you're thinking about.”
“That would be great. I would love to.” He could hear your smile over the phone.
976 notes · View notes
dietmountaindewbae · 4 months
Note
hiii i LOVE ur fics omg pls never stop writing,
could you maybe do something You-ish (the TV show "You") (idk if you've seen it but it's amazing) something stalker-ish? where alex is joe and reader is his, soon to be, gf (cuz he makes her) (any alex era) 💌
hope ur well🤍💋
xxiii. obsession
alex turner x reader
Tumblr media
word count: 12626
summary: We ran into each other by chance or by fate, your clumsiness started something for me, something for us, and it's my duty to find out who you are. (the car! era) This story is written on Alex's narrative.
warnings: obsessions & rough s*x
song recommendation: tear you apart by she wants revenge
───── ୨୧ ─────
Ever since that day outside of a party, when you fell into my arms, drunk and loud, I had never felt so high, I had felt something the moment you smiled at me and flushed from the embarrassment, your eyes watery from the cold, your lips red full of blood, alcohol running fast through your veins, my heart falling from my mouth, you pulled away and hugged yourself, too embarrassed from what had happened, you thought it was too much booze, I thought it was meant to be, right place and right time. You just said "Sorry," I helped you to get back on your feet, our hands lightly graze and we lock in a stare, but then your mates dragged you across the street, they had dragged you away from me, like parents and their out-of-control kid, you waved goodbye at me, and all I could do was smile and wave goodbye to you, I was a fool, I didn't know what to say, it was one of those 'what would have happened?' moments when I ask myself, 'what if I had just said "It's ok, don't worry, love"' Icould vividly picture us walking down the street, going for some food because we were pissed, I would've kissed you, and asked for your number, then we could be dating, holding hands in the street, laughing at everything, hanging out with your stupid mates, if they hadn't been there and taken you away from me, I probably wouldn't have found meself, hiding behind the threes in the middle of a cold winter in LA, hoping to be in the warmth of your arms than out in the cold darkness of the street. I can't help to wonder if you ever think of me.
Your name and your last name stayed in a constant loop on my mind, one of your mates, the one with the light brown hair had screamed it as she found you falling into my arms, it would be stupid if I didn't look for you, right? You're gorgeous, you were nice and interesting, It would be weird if I didn't try to find your social media. It was easy to find you, I hate to admit how easy it is to find everything online these days, I found your Instagram and Facebook with just a few clicks on my computer, it's too easy it makes me laugh.
I scrolled through every single one of your posts on Facebook, you had a few, not many, everything was mainly about your little family trips and your sister's child, I made a note that you might just have Facebook out of pressure from your mother and sister since they always tag you in memes or those annoying TED Talk videos and you never answer, I found your mother's page, widowed, 49 years old, looks 45, she gave you her face, older sister, found her page too, married with a toddler, awfully bitter since she has to post where she is at all times, even if her child had taken a massive shit and had the looks of a giant worm, she would've posted it, I left the best for last. Your Instagram, no one these days uses Facebook.
Your Instagram was private but empty with not a single sight of you... so it's no use, what about your friends?... Hello you... I could hold on to these group pictures Larissa posted, thank you internet! Your friend group was small but they knew how to get around, only 4 people, two girls called Julie and Larissa, and Julie's boyfriend Luca, 5 if you counted me in, soon, luckily for me, Julie had an empty page, barely any pictures, just her and Luca but her profile was public but that lead me to find your other friend, Larissa had pictures of her face and some of you and Julie at pubs, very self-centered I suppose, Luca only posted about being a gym addict. I took a more personal approach, your sister Nina, who loves you very much, she had plenty of pictures of you. Thanksgiving was at your house, you looked gorgeous in those pictures, you wore a white dress with red flowers and black platforms, your long hair in beautiful waves, if any pervert were to see it, you would be such an easy victim with that long hair, but you're not, you're not so easy to hunt down in the dark. There was a picture of you and your sister's baby boy, sitting next to the three by a bay window, great. I took note of the stores, houses, and historical buildings nearby and then reality hit me as I took a cab on the way to your house.
Come on Alex, what are you doing? You look like a creep with your cap and coat in the middle of the night, It's only just a crush it'll go away, just like all the others. But you see? That's the problem with you, you're not, this is dangerous but I'll take my chances for you, I'm not obsessed with you, like I said, it's only just a crush. I hide behind some trees in front of your house on the other side of the street, and I contemplate this wonderful girl in her bedroom, going round and round with a book in her hands. 
At night me head couldn't stop spinning, making all of these scenarios, about a girl who meets a stranger, and they fall madly in love in just a split second. I didn't need more, I could hold on to your light vanilla perfume and the softness of your hair, your lips, your collarbone, your shoulder, the curve of your breasts in the blouse you wore that night, I want to hold you close and kiss you hard.
For next few days I followed you around, I made you a time table, every morning at 5:30 you went for a run, and you finished off at home some with exercises you found on YouTube, you were visibly struggling, and that made me laugh but I felt bad for doing so, you worked hard, you finished around 6:30, you liked walking like a true new yorker, in your most sober looks, sometimes in a dress with a blue navy sweater on top of dresses , jeans, and a silky shirt, winter or no winter, you loved wearing tank tops, loved exposing even just a little bit of your body, even in the coldest days, your legs, your beautiful shoulders, a v-neck, mini skirts, checkered shorts or pants, and sexy patterned tights with colors like pastel blue, and even red to spice up your all black outfits, and you always wore that luscious and berry coloured lipstick on your lips, heels, motorcycle boots, ballerina flats, dresses, chunky sweaters, straight leg vintage jeans, coats, heels, shoulder bags, mini bags, but what a must was, something that never came off of you, your golden necklace, you're an everything girl, you dressed for the day, it told you exactly what to wear, even if you broke your pattern, you mostly dressed like Jane Birkin, jeans, white shirt, chunky purse, but you love leather, leather belts, leather jackets. Then you walk to your favorite café, and your drink depends on how tired you feel, black coffee for busy days or cappuccinos for the days you don't feel in a rush, then you take the metro, read a book and sip on your coffee while listening to your music, you are in college by 7:30, have 30 minutes to spare, but you're wise, and you use them organize yourself while you ease up with some music, I've never seen a longer playlist to be honest, there's a bit of everything there, you write your things in a red wine journal, I wonder what's in those little pink notes you stick on your notebook.
I made sure you got safely to your workplace after school at 4:00 pm, a bakery, you love talking to the people at the register as they ask you for your favorite dessert, and you always choose the same, tiramisu, rich coffee with some liquor, mascarpone carefully enveloped with delicious whipping cream, and a touch of cocoa sifted all over the tiramisu, and you juggle back and forward with doing school work, help in the kitchen, serve the costumers with a bright and friendly smile, you're tired and they don't pay you enough. And when you get home a 10 pm, you don't go to sleep, you stay up until you're finished but you never truly are, no matter how late or early, you can't sleep, why is that beautiful? Aren't your sheets made of the softest cotton? But I can see, that you are compromised to live in a city that never sleeps, you get ready for your next job at your nearest live jazz pub as a bartender, I'm very familiar with that type of job, you serve the customers with a kind smile as the music rocks you, you talk to other girls, and the artists flirt with you from time to time but you didn't submit, you knew better than that, you got paid well, the tips that fell on your back pocket from the nasty old men helped you to afford your apartment, barely making it to the next cut but you made it.
And every restless night when your mind couldn't stop thinking you went out to the nearest pub, and you made new friends, some men flirted with you until sadly, one night I had to watch you leave with one of them, he conquered your body before me, I wonder if you ever think of me in that way, a sexy stranger, that clouded your mind with ideas until you finally gave in. He did what he wanted to do, and when he left, you were still flushed and needy, that night I watched you hump your pillow with angst to get yourself off, a gorgeous picture to see, one that was engraved in my brain since then.
Every night when I crashed in my bed, and I prayed for this to go away but it continued to grow, I prayed for you to get out of me head, but your face, your smile, every curve of your body lived in me head, and if I don't something about it, you'll hunt me down forever. 
I walked down the street on a Saturday night, It's been a week since we bumped into each other, discreetly searching for you with my eyes, until, I found you, in your West Village, street-level, white, vintage but modern apartment that might be hard for you to afford but you keep on paying it because the creepy landlord has a massive crush on you, he cannot fool me, I know what it's like.
You live in such a melancholic part of New York and also warm, old, and historic, it holds so many stories, and memories that's why it reminds you of home, like the baby pictures your mom posts, your living area illuminated with yellow lights from you mid-century lamps, like the sky in a beautiful afternoon, laying in your sette in a white tank top and panties, finally, you get to relax and enjoy yourself.
I could see the outline of your body through your thin linen white curtains, you were wearing vintage headphones connected to your record player, reading a book, Bukowski's 'Love Is A Dog From Hell' Yes, it must certainly is. Then suddenly you stood up, I'm certain you're barefoot, through a crack in the curtain I can see you're approaching the window, I could see the left side of your face, soft, round, cute little pointy nose, and your eyes, a sparkle in them as you stare into the sky, pink pouty lips, and a little beauty spot in your cheek, your phone in the ear, moving your lips with a smile as if you were talking to the person in the other line in real life. You nodded a couple of times and then you hung up, I saw the outline of your body, running towards your bedroom, what's got you in such a hurry? But before you forget, you turn up the music so loud the whole neighborhood can hear it, you choose something classic 'Bang Bang' by Nancy Sinatra, shoot me down, your linen curtain reflecting the light, and you take out your top in one move tossing it away, the outline of your naked beautiful body stretching had made me think so many things to do with it in less than a second, you pick your clothes with care, hanging them in front of your mirror, posing with the clothes on top of your body.
You sit somewhere in your room, and I can hardly see you, something about your magnetism draws me to you, so I stupidly cross the street and find shelter behind a three, but I get even more stupid as I get to see you doing your makeup in the mirror, your phone rings and your face goes blank, you answer and I see how your expressions change like the way flowers rot, gradually you get darker and darker, until... you break into tears putting an end to the call, and you push your phone away, you look into the mirror, and I see a tear roll down your cheek slowly, your face scrunched, and your cheeks reddened, you look at yourself in the mirror, all I can see is hate and rage, and then, you're cold as ice, not another tear rolls down your cheeks, you clean them up with a soft cotton pad and continue to apply makeup on your face, I wonder who has made you cry? even if it was just one small insignificant tear, whoever that was...they still made you cry.
Before you leave, you check yourself one last time, the dress you choose to wear was way better than the typical night outfits women wear these days, less ostentatious, you like dressing feminine, classic but modern, but not so pretty that you look like a little girl, you were more than pretty, you were hot, steaming, boiling, no man would approach you like that, and that was the sad truth for you but good news for both of us, not as any man would approach you, they had to have big balls to do so, baby doll dress, platforms, and a racer jacket, cute, stylish, edge, as always, you were sharp as a blade to the skin. Your hair is straight and it looks longer than when it's on your natural waves, and the wind blows perfectly on it, but that velvet red lipstick on your mouth might be the death of me.
You went outside, took a cab, and went out, I waved my arm, and soon enough a cab passed by.
"Where to?" The man said.
"Follow that cab in front of you," He took off, it was sad, drivers these days don't even care for men like this, the ones that just order to do something like that, there were a lot of crazy people here, and I had to protect you from them.
I see you being dropped off at a crowded pub, I hand a good amount of money to the man, and he drives off, I see you go inside, and you find your mates, I sit across from you, not too close so that you can see me but, but not so far so I don't hear you. You hug each one of them and you sit in the booth next to Julie.
"What's the occasion?" You said, next thing, Julie turns and shows a sparkling diamond on her finger, "Luke, Luke, Luke!" You teased her in awe, you held her hand carefully, examining it up close to the ring, "It's stunning" You said with a kind smile, it was amazing how I wished to be that hand, the one you caressed with care.
"I wanna do something big for the bachelorette, and I don't know where to start, I mean..." It must be hard for you, everyone around you is married or has a serious more than the 2-year relationship you can't hold on to, everyone has a kid now, everyone turns 27 and suddenly they already have a house, a child, and a loving husband, I wouldn't be like that ever, things won't be like that with me, I promise, we can take it as slow and calm as you want, or maybe go fast, I can go both ways, I just have to wait for the moment I may finally introduce myself to you, maybe by tomorrow when you go out but it must be soon before you forget about that last Saturday night, and it looks like you are in the process of, you are emptying those glasses of wine like coke in a hot summer day.
"Ease up with the wine," Larissa says, "You're gonna end up embarrassing yourself like the last time, you always have to pull a seen," Here we go.
"What fuckin' scene?" You spit back, "I was tired and I had been wearing high heels for more than 2 hours, yes, I was drunk but it was a genuine accident" You were annoyed, why could no one understand that? Accidents happen, and it must be hard for you to stand that pain, if I had stayed over, I would've given you a lovely massage, and treated you the way you're supposed to, I'm starting to be not very fond of Larissa.
"Uhu, yeah, but do you remember the last time you went to that party and got so drunk you "accidentally" confused a cigarette with marihuana and cried in the street like a baby?" Larissa, you just had to make it worse, didn't you?
"Fuck off, I can do whatever the fuck I want, if you don't want to believe me that's fine, oh!... and a scene, Larissa, a scene is what you pull when you yell at everyone as if you were the fucking owner of everything and everyone" You took your purse and rushed out, I see that Julie went out to get you, so I discreetly follow her, and find you waving your arm for a cab.
"Wait, don't go," Julie says with a caring tone, "I know you're not ok, you can't lie to me, you know how Lari is..."
"But why does she have to be a fuckin' news flasher of everything I do, embarrassing me in front of everyone, making me look like I'm not fun to be around," Julie tried to hug you but you wouldn't let her near.
"You say some scary shit while you're drunk, that's the only thing I'm going to agree on, but I can see you're not ok," Intuitive, honest, and kind, good choice for a friend.
"He called me" Julie sighs, who is he? This is the prize of being old fashioned, just like me, that's another thing I like about you, you have a life, even if you spend time alone, you go out in the world instead of taking a picture of it and expose your life, you have a little life, but it's yours and only yours.
"What did he want?" You shrugged and searched for something in your leather purse, taking a cigarette, and desperately flicking the lighter on.
"He just asked how I was, while he's off... modeling and possibly fucking two to three girls every single night, and he asks me how I am, drunk and high, he's so... he's-" To find the right words to describe that wanker only made me think about the damage he must have done to you, come on, spill the name, "That's not really everything, he's just-"
"Part of everything" Julie answered back, hugging you close to her, a caring hug, sweet, I could take a picture of it, I'm glad there is Julie for you, "Go home, and text me when you get there," She holds her arm up, taking a cab for you and sending you back home, I did the same thing as before, and the man did as he was told. But the problem was, you didn't go home, you went to a nearby liquor store and bought more wine for yourself, you drank it straight from the bag and you plugged in your wired earphones to your phone, kicking your feet and humming to the music 'New Dawn Fades' by Joy Division, a sad post-punk classic, you should be glad I am here to be on the look for you as you waddle in the steers, an easy target, if anyone dared to do anything to you, well, you must be glad there is me.
You walked a few blocks to your house, but you didn't go in, you couldn't hold yourself up anymore, so you sat by the staircase, defeated since you were desperately looking for your keys in your little purse, and you stared into the empty dark street, and you cried, you kept crying so hard it makes me feel the need to go and help you, I didn't really think about what I was doing, you were desperate, and I was afraid of letting you stay outside like that, then you stood up, unpredictable as always, I see you taking a fast pace. What are you thinking about? Did you forget something? You walk a few blocks until you stay still on a crowded street, the cars on that street go by faster, and you stare into the void as the red lights flash before you in straight lines, your cheeks stained with black tears, the darkness takes you in like one of their children, your head wrapped up in horrible ideas, so dark they blind your eyes, so atrocious your mind can only find one way to make you see the light at the end, you can't find peace, your body is tired, your eyebags are heavy, and you don't feel like yourself, you've lost control and you murmur something over and over again under your breath like some sort of sick prayer...
"A loaded gun won't set you free"
I see you take a step forward, now standing on the pavement, my heart drops to my stomach, and I run to get you, the wind blowing my cap away, what are you doing? why are you doing this? I can fix it, I can fix you, I can help you, I'll make it all disappear, before you take another step, the bus coming your way was out to get you, and you closed your eyes, but I won't let you go like that, my hand grasps your shoulder tightly, and I pull you to my arms, you're cold, shivering, your wired earphones fall from your head and get tangled in your hair.
"Are you alright?" Your face is wet with tears, and you look at me with big eyes, flushed again from the embarrassment, but that sparkle, that little fucking sparkle just makes me so mad, I'd kill for you to see me like that over and over, your little nose red, your eyelids a bit puffy.
You quickly wipe your tears, "Erm..." You sniffed, and you stared into my face with a cute and educated smile, "No... I mean, yes... sorry, I'm just... I wasn't thinking, I'm sorry," You scan my face, the familiarity of it makes a grin spread on your lips, "If I sound like a creep please stop me, but, I think I know you" Your lips curl into a bigger smile, as you realize who I am, I am that man, I am the man who will always be there for you, "You're that guy I fell into the other day" I pretend as if am amazed over who small the world is.
"Hey you," You said to me with a smile.
"Hello you" We both look to our feet, and I feel some warmth creeping up me cheeks, "We gotta stop meetin' like this" I see you flush, looking at me through your lashes, you slowly bite your bottom lip as you brush your hair out of the way, flirty. You struggle to untangle your earphones from your hair, I take a step forward and gently untangle them.
"You just had to come and rescue me again huh? Who are you? Superman?" I hear your voice, and your laughter like a melody I would love to hear over and over again, gentle, a little deep, but beautiful, I can see that behind all of that dark makeup and those dark looks, you're a sweet but lost little girl.
"I'm Batman" You're laughing and blushing at my jokes, that means that you like me.
"I like your accent batman" That's nice to hear, some people say that it sounds too rough and I sound like a scumbag, but I'm glad your ears enjoy the sound of it.
"Thanks, love" You take a step forward, your eyes looking at mine and then at my lips, it's hard to breathe right now.
"What are you doin' so late, huh? Are you wearing your costume?" You tease me, and we begin to walk together, to nowhere, just where we want this conversation to take us.
"Sort of, and you?" You shrugged, what a hard night you had. I'm worried about you, you didn't need to apologize for "not thinking", we kept walking until the smell of food dilated our nose trails.
"Just went for some drinks with a couple of friends nothing too exciting... do you mind if we stop for some food?" My fantasies had become real, you wanted to get some street pizza, the nice old man smiling at you tenderly, he's nice, not creepy, just a nice man, you ask for two slices of pepperoni with Italian sausage and the man is nice enough to give you the most fresh and warm slices of pizza, "Here, it's on me... it's the least I can do"
"Thank you" You chuckled and waved it off, gosh I wish I could just freeze this moment forever.
"I should be thanking you..." You wait to hear my name, and I stay silent contemplating this moment for a second, this is how it starts.
"Alex" You shake hands with me as your tongue, teeth, and lips articulate your name, you have a lovely name, and I'm crazy about you, "Charmed" I hold my gaze at you as you slowly let go of me hand.
"So, what were your plans for the night before I had completely crashed them" Funny, dark jokes, sarcasm, you're really smart but you don't like showing it off, you make me laugh so much, it's clear we have the same humor, that's another reason as to why you're perfect for me and I am for you.
"Um... I thought about going out somewhere, anywhere, sometimes I can't sleep... I'm afraid of losing life by being a slave of me work, me house, everythin' but I found something exciting" You smile to yourself, and you smile at me, you see? We're perfect.
"I do that sometimes... whenever I can't sleep, I go to a bar and you know... try to meet new people, I hate having to post about it on social media though, everyone has their screens glued to their faces, and I just don't like that, I don't wanna breathe my phone, I wanna breathe air" If I were you I would write a whole book about this, I love that you think just like that, we can be people for once, and run around the world and make it ours, "What do you do for a living?"
"Music producer" You smiled at me, "And I have the gift of guessing people's favorite artists,"
"Really? What are mine's?" I have the chance to look at you confidently, I see you like that, I can see how fast your heart is going, how you try to calm it with your breathing, your chest rising and falling fast, as I stare into your eyes intensely making little goosebumps crawl like spiders, I hope you know how much I like you.
"Nancy, Lana... and summat dark like Joy Division Unknown Pleasures" You clap and you're amazed at how exact I am, I can smell it on you.
"Exactly, I love them," You began to hum their songs, dancing on the street, I follow your lead, as you spin, "I was listening to it a few moments ago" You turn dark again, I'm not going to let you, I immediately regret ever saying that, I don't know what that bloody song did to you, but you were listening to it before you attempted to get crashed.
"I'm glad I was there" Sweeten up, tell me what's wrong, I'm here for you.
"Yeah... me too, I wasn't thinking straight..." You clean your throat, you cross your arms, and furrow you're eyebrows, it makes you angry to say it, makes you sad, makes you frustrated, and even so since you watch me patiently waiting for you to tell me what happened to you, I didn't have to say it, you already knew "I don't think you would like to hear about my problems Alex, they're meaningless"
"Nothin' is meaningless just like us meeting tonight perhaps..." Shite, I take it back, I can see your face looking at me weirdly, but you smiled, you're fascinated? Did you like that?
"You're right," You warm up to me, I can see it in your body, I can see it in your face, I've given you no reason to not trust me, I'm harmless, I told you you can trust me, "But I want a ciggy, if you don't mind" You lean against a brick wall, your leg supporting your weight, I'm in love with your smooth and shiny legs, what's your secret?
"Mind if I steal one?" You say no with your head, you check your box again, and you curse in your head. The box has only one cigarette left.
"Sharing it is" You light your cigarette with your pink lighter, I can see some cute puppy stickers on it, you inhale the thick white smoke and exhale it, your whole body relaxing, feeling lighter, you feel calm, and you hand it to me, holding it between your index and your middle, you have a vintage silver rose ring in your middle, cracked red nail polish, and the cigarette butt was stained with your gorgeous red lipstick, I take it in between my lips, your lipstick tastes sweet like marshmallows, I savor it, Jesus, I hope I can taste your pretty lips soon.
"Talk to me," You sigh, and your mouth articulates each phrase, your voice tired and sad, I hear every detail of your story with care, a girl that can't control her alcohol, one that just wants to have fun, one that makes stupid mistakes but learns, I see beauty not only out but inside you, in your mistakes, in your intentions, in your life, you only got one, and you've made noble mistakes, I can see you're a whole woman, a hot and determined woman, but you have no road clear enough, no road to pick, you're chasing something you don't even know what it is.
"So now, I'm just trying to see what happens, I'm getting my degree soon, and then I'll keep working, maybe I'll start something on my own" Maybe if you don't love your work, at least you can come home back to me, I'll cook dinner, I'll wash your clothes, I'll set the table, I'll prep you a warm bath, I'll shower you, you won't move a single finger when you come home to me, "How's working as a music producer?"
"Oh, well, it's great... sometimes we have our differences but most of the time I just do what people tell me to do, in secret I make their music better, sometimes they don't notice and they just brag about how amazing was their idea" Your cigarette burns away into my fingers, I set it off into the wall and discreetly put it inside my pocket, you change the direction, we're going back, you're shamelessly eying me up and down, I swear if you don't stop...
"What are your favorite bands?" You're changing the subject, I don't like that, I don't like that you don't want to talk about what you've told me, but I keep you interested.
"Well... an old-time favorite is The Strokes" I answer firmly, you take out from your purse your earphones, plug them into your phone, and press play on the music as we walk together sharing your music, 'Call It Fate Call It Karma' on full volume.
"Might be basic for you, but I don't see a better song for this moment" You turn to face me, and we stop in the dark corner of the sidewalk, your eyes greedy and precious, that bloody spark in your dark eyes excites me, it's all in your eyes, I can see it clearly, I can see what you want from me, you blink slowly and wait for me to make the next move, and I don't doubt for a second, I close the space between us, and very gently press the palm of my hand to your warm cheek, it's warm and pink, staring into your eyes like stars in the black sky, kissing your lips, sweet as burned marshmallows in a bonfire night, you kiss me so softly at first, but you make that animal inside me come alive, I'm a man, I'm an animal, and I kiss your tender lips hungrily, I didn't expect for you to answer back with the same hunger, you feed me with your kiss, and your breath tastes like ecstasy, I'm a junkie, sweet sweet nicotine, I'm a chain smoker, "Take me home, Alex..."
"I'll take you anywhere you tell me, sweetheart" You grab my hand, fingers intertwined, and I feel 15 again, my palms are sweaty, my sweat is cold, and I feel so warm in my clothes, I can't wait to take them off, the anticipation getting the best of me, you make my dreams come true, and I'm so happy the world had chosen you to fall into my arms. I'm your protector, a guardian angel.
On the way home, we sneak to share some angsty kisses three or more times, you're getting me worked up, letting me touch you, grasping your hips, biting my lip, kissing my cheek, moaning my name into my lips, you're making my head spin. We walk up the stairs together, opening the door to your shelter, you have a lovely house, so clean that some things are allowed to be misplaced, it's big because you don't like having so many things out, your bed is on the other side of the wall were you living area is, the vague familiarity of it makes me feel like I'm imagining it all.
"This my girl cave, my crib" You joke, I take pictures of it in my head from bottom to top, every single inch, every place I imagine us being in, watching tele, cooking together, making a mess of the kitchen of course, dancing, fucking, scratching your wooden countertop, "What do you think?"
"It's-" We both get freaked out by the knocks at your door, some dickhead calling out your name, begging you to open the door, you roll your eyes, you know exactly who he is.
You swing open the door, cross your arms, and stand your ground, marking that he's not welcome here, you're strong, you're determined, go you! Show some teeth, "I don't wanna hear another one of your crazy fucking stories, tell them to your mother, Cameron" You were about to shut the door in his face but he stops it with his foot, that must've hurt Cameron, that's your ex isn't he? The one who made you cry, "Leave" You spit.
"I won't, you can't possibly ask for something like that... you and I know there's no one better than me, no better match than us" You stay silent, why are you thinking? why are you second-guessing? He takes a step forward, he's getting closer, you're face is a frown, you don't want him to touch you even though he keeps trying.
"I don't want you here, you must leave now Cameron, I want you out" He turns into hysteric laughter, he thinks you're crazy, he thinks you've lost your mind, well big shot, you're not it, Cameron only wants to hurt you with his words, he wants to make the most damage, he gets off at this, making you his only real standard, but Cameron will never treat you like you must be treated.
"Don't talk me to like that" I take his aggressiveness as a sign to take a step in, who the fuck does this wanker think he is to talk to you like that? You see that's a real scumbag, and I'll be his worst nightmare.
"Like what?" I come up from the back, cocky, sounding like a total prick, and I can see that you love it, when I sound like this, dominant, confident, "She's telling you to go, I'm telling you to fuck off. Now" I slam my voice at him, there are scary people in this world, there are men like Cameron, he has an intense gaze, but he wouldn't ever pick up a fight for anyone, yes... not even you, he's too vain, a narcissist, he is all bark but no bite, and then there are the men who would move mountains for their loved ones, he steps away, and I shut the door close, I can feel you shivering beneath my skin.
You stare at me, and I drag you in closer, that's what you like... you liked to be treated rough, you like being needed, I push your hips against mine, I can see it in your face, you've felt it, you've felt how hard my cock is, and it's hurting so fucking bad now, I can't wait for another second, I can't wait to take you to bed, you jump on me, wrapping your gorgeous soft legs on me, I decide to leave the first reminder of me on your kitchen table, laying your body on top of the cold wooden countertop for the first reminder of me and the things I'm about to do to you, my knuckles pull down your panties, ripping them off from your skin, your pussy glistening, bathed in your wetness, I can smell your flesh from the distance, like a predator and their victim, I'm a lion, "I'm gonna fuckin' tear you apart"
"Fuuuckin' please" You moan so loudly I bet it could be heard from across the street, and your voice shivers, I've barely even touched you yet, and you're already so wet for me, what are you thinking about? what's in your mind? I wish I could crack your skull open.
I lower myself in between your legs, I've been so busy admiring your body, the scent of the almond oil you rub on your smooth legs, I bet that you shaved them today, and I wonder what else have you shaved, your dress rides to your hips as you contortion under my touch, Jesus, you're desperate for it, but no, I want to enjoy you.
"Calm the fuck down, lay still and close your eyes" I order, and you stiffen up, staying quiet, and still, "Atta girl", I can finally see what's in between your gorgeous long legs, a pink and small pussy, Jesus, I bet you're so fucking tight by the looks of it, my ring and middle finger begin their assault, pressing down vertically against your clit, you hum and your hips writhe against me fingers, slowly, pushing them, you like that, rubbing yourself against them, and when I see you through the glass I lose my mind, I see how me fingers get coated and damped in your wetness, and I love watching you get so worked up by that, I can feel me cock just getting harder by the second, it's hurting and it's a pulsing pain, but I bare with it just for you, because now I'm going to show you how exactly you're supposed to get fucked.
I spread open your pussy, pink and warm, swollen clit I pinch in between me fingers, and you hiss but you only get wetter, if I pinched for a little longer you were sure coming all over the table. I open me mouth to taste your warm and savory juices, I suck and kiss your clit, picking up with my tongue your wetness, you're going to cum so good, I can feel it building up, you're in for a ride, and you've just begun to climb up the roller coaster.
"Oh... that's soo good" You gasp and sigh, I let my two fingers twist inside your pussy, me knuckles rimming your walls slowly, the bumpy and hard skin of my fingers make you gently fuck yourself into them, while I watch you with my tongue lapping over your clit teasingly, just those gentle touches make your legs shake, and your walls to contract, you're wonderful, you behave well, your hands slowly crawling into me hair, pulling it gently, your little whimpers get me worked up and I have to put in the biggest effort to not palm meself, I want you to feel every inch of me.
"You feel so lovely, babe doll" This feels so right, you bite on my lower lip, pulling my flesh until it bleeds. You're a sucker for my accent, you really are, you enjoy hearing me voice, doesn't it relax you? Doesn't it turn you on? I want to know what it is... I want to feel what it is, your legs keep shaking and your body keeps getting stiffer, your lower abdomen making pressure, and your walls are closing around me fingers, I shake them inside you, your mouth falls open, my lips sucking your clit harder and your body arches until I feel your cunt losing up, feeling your release leaking out of that tiny little hole, I'm eager to taste it, I eat your pussy eagerly, you know I'm hungry for it, my mouth eating your pussy like a soft and warm bun, and you taste just as sweet, just as good as I imagined, I won't let you rest, I will keep you on the limit. I drag you forward, making you kiss me lips, "Do you taste that? Taste how sweet you are... taste how good I ate you"
"And you're gonna fuck me just as good?" Your hand sneaks in between me legs, you love how hard my dick is for you, it makes you feel so thrilled, makes you feel good about yourself, and it makes you feel hot.
"You'll just have to wait a little bit longer, I'm not done with you" I'm certain about something, you're a kinky little shit, and I know you want something like this, I bend you over the kitchen table, and you're just ready for it, arching your back, spreading your legs, you're not putting a fight, my hand kneads your ass like dough, and spanks it hard over and over again, "You precious little thing, are you going to do everything I tell you to do?"
"No" You state firmly, earning another smack in your ass.
"Tell me summat..." I push my hips against your dripping wet cunt, that's oozing for another smack, "How much do you want it?" You sigh, rubbing your ass against my cock, you're killing me, you better stop now, the friction, the warmth, your goddamn smell, "Answer me you fuckin' cunt" You giggle, you do love it.
"I want you so bad" You whisper, no, I don't like that.
"Not enough" The smacks you earn are getting harder to bear, but you enjoy them, and so do I, you masochistic little shit.
"I need you inside me, Alex... I can't wait any longer" You rock your hips against mine, humping your naked pussy against my bulge, "Please..." You whimper so sweetly, I can't handle it any longer, I take off your dress, and you're wearing nothing but your tall black heels, looking like a fuckin' hooker, but I bet that's what you like.
"You want it you fucking slut?" You keep whimpering and rubbing yourself on me jeans, I bet that you've stained them already, "Come here" I turn you around and kiss you deeply, I can feel your hands unbuttoning my shirt as fast as you can, even in the heat of the moment you don't break my shirt but I couldn't care less, I take your hands and make fists ripping it apart and throwing it away, you're even faster to take out my jeans and leaving me on my boxers, that's the one good thing about me, I can see how your eyes lit up as you see how hard me fat cock is for you, you bite your lower lip and I pull you back up from your knees.
Time for reminder number two, the settee, I pull you up, and you sit in my arm until I put you back to the ground gently, I have to let you know that I was here, I need you to know how good I am, no other man could please you like that, I pull your leg up while you hold yourself up with the other, your pussy is so fucking wet my cock slides inside you so easily, I can feel the electric shocks that run all over your body, "Hard, please" You whine, I'm going to show you what hard actually is.
My hips thrust inside you so roughly the settee moves out of place, your nails dig into the cushions as I keep railing your tight hole harder, and you scream like bloody murder, I hope your neighbors don't call the police, I hope they can see how hard you're getting your cunt fucked, I want everyone that walks by to hear you, "You wanted hard babe!" You moan and scream, and keep getting your pussy pounded like meat being beaten up to get it tender. I dig your head into the pillows.
"Don't... d-don't-" Don't what?
"I can't understand you, babe, can you repeat that for me?" You pant trying to catch your breath, and your legs are numbing up, and I can see they've lost some strength, "Do you want me to stop, because I can" As I saw you didn't make a move, I began to pull out but you stopped, digging your nails into my wrist.
"Don't stop for fucks sake" Now for the next one, I stay buried inside you like that, you keep trying to fuck yourself into me cock but I just won't allow it, I pick you up once more, and your legs around my torso, and you press your warm chest against mine, I lean back against the giant bookshelf next to your bedroom door, you hold on into the shelves for leverage while I drive my cock inside you, your pussy feels so tight I wish I could let this last forever, I'll make that pussy mine.
"You want more, babe?" You hum and gasp, yes of course you do, you're loving every single inch of me cock, "God you look so beautiful with your mouth opened like that," I lick your bottom lip, "And that little cunt of yours is so wet for me, you're just making things harder for me..." I pushed meself too hard inside you, the shelf shook, and something hard dropped to the ground but you ignored it, you've lost yourself in my touch, and I feel embarrassed for dropping something. Your inner animal wakes up as I throw you into your bed.
I crawl on top of you but you gather up your strength to flip me over, I didn't expect that, you've taken the lead and I want to see you lose control, you writhe your hips into mine, your eyes facing the roof, and your mouth wide open, your hair falling into your head, you looked possessed, but you had lost the power to think about what you were doing, "For fucks sake" If you keep moving like that, you're going to make this end sooner, and I've already planned everything out, I try to sit up but you hold me down, chocking me so hard that it's almost impossible to breathe for me, but I love that feeling, my head feels light, my vision is blurry, but I'm not going to give in to you, I already have, you have got to give into me.
I flip you over so harshly, your head almost slammed against your headboard, "Listen to me you fuckin' cunt" My harsh tone makes your core shake, "You ain't the one on command, now... I don't wanna repeat meself" It's arousing you, I can feel it in between your legs, you're shamelessly getting wetter, "Don't make me repeat meself again" You love to play with me, I see that naughty little smile curling into your lips.
"You already did" You like to pull on my hair, don't you? And you will pay for that.
"Don't fuck with me" Your eyebrows push together and your little smirk makes me go mad.
"You know I love to" Love? You "love to"? Does this mean that you might love me? Even just a tiny bit?
"You do, huh?" I begin to rock my hips against yours, slowly, passionately, like a slow and steaming dance, I see your fingers grasping the sheets making hard fists, "You don't know what you've gotten yourself into" And I'm not lying, you really don't.
"Show me Alex" You whisper to me those three words so sexily, charmingly, I've already lost my mind.
"I'll show you how a real man fucks you, babe," Your oozing with the thrill, "I'll show you how to behave... you little fuckin' cunt" Your mouth opens to moan and I take advantage of it to spit inside your mouth, both my hands chocking you, "You're mine... all mine"
"I'd love to" You whimper, "Make me yours please... please just do, I want you Alex" You keep asking me that with your little weak voice, your body that speaks to me, I can read it so easily, it tells me that I'm doing exactly what you want me to do, it shivers, and it quivers, and it sweats, it screams, it tightens, it stiffens, in your eyes I can feel your fast heartbeat in my fingers, and it goes just as fast as mine, my body against yours sounds like I'm butchering you, your neighbors must think I'm holding a knife against your throat, but it does go as deep, it does penetrate and it hurts you in the most magnificently and pleasingly way, your eyes red shot, and your voice gets quieter, shit, I'm losing you, I am.
"Wake up, wake up!" I scream to you, my hand patting your cheek lightly, your pulse is barely detectable, I slap you across your face and you gain back consciousness in the blink of an eye, I didn't want to do it, I would never do that, but when your lips curl into your devilish smile, I know see how you really are.
"Do that again Al" You tease me, I love it when you call me like that, no one ever really does that anymore, is that my new nickname? Al? You're going to remember me forever babe, I hope you do, and tomorrow when you wake up, I'm still going to be there, I'll make your breakfast, and I'll do anything you ask me to do, even dishes, you won't pick them up.
"You're mad, woman" You giggle, and you try to pick yourself up, I can't let you, I did knock you over completely, my hand very gently caresses your cheeks, it's red and fragile, it must burn or at least sting, "Let me do the kissing for now, babe"
"And the fucking too perhaps?" You smile at me, your cute little button nose is flushed, your cheeks and chest are red, your nipples are hard, it turned you on to this point, you're dark, what else are you not telling me? "I'm crazy about you" Those words will echo in my head for the rest of my days.
I take no rush into fucking you, I'm not just a guy you'll sleep with, I'm your man, and I wanted to make sweet sweet love to you, but you won't let me, you like it rough, hard, fast, I don't want this moment to be over, at least not for me yet, you can cum as many times as you like, and like the real man I am, I am profoundly true to the saying 'Happy wife, happy life'
I hug you close to me, that's the least I can do, if I'm going to lose control, let my heart tell yours how much I love you, even if you dump me like a puppy, I'll stay loyal, I'll follow your scent everywhere, I will forever remember the scent of your vanilla hair, your Dior perfume, and the golden necklace around your neck, I counted 15 moles on your body, even the one in between your legs, my hands grab your hair into fists as I pound you harder and harder, you're losing your mind and I'm losing control again, your bed squeaks so loudly and the headboards slams against the wall so harshly, but I don't stop I can't stop now, I can feel you, I can feel it coming, you bring yourself to an end again, the palm of my hand slowly adds pressure on your lower belly, to ease you up, the bed keeps squeaking so annoyingly, and even after we ignored the several warnings, the legs of your bed broke and your headboard fell to the ground, we both break into laughter.
"Oh God!" Your little laughter is so bubbly and funny, it makes me smile and feel so ashamed at the same time.
"I'm so sorry, I'll pay for that" You rub the tip of your little nose against mine, and look at me tenderly, your fingers caressing the back of my head, if only you could see the hearts in my eyes.
"Don't be ridiculous... you know, I've never broken a bed before... you're not going to be easy to forget batman, I hope you don't disappear into the night soon" I'll get you off first, but there's one thing you should be certain of.
"I never intended to" Was that too much? Sorry if that was too much, maybe it was... maybe it wasn't, I'm having a hard time reading your face right now, you're looking at me very seriously, I don't want to get my hopes up, but you're killing me, I should focus now, finish the deed, "But I'm still sorry about your bed though"
"Shut the fuck up, and keep fucking me" Whatever she wants, whatever she wants... You're already the song on the radio I got stuck in me head.
I pull us closer to the safest edge of your bed, toss your legs over me shoulders, and bend them over, I lean over and pound the living shit out of you, I was balls deep inside you, and you like it, so much that you dig your nails into my back, scratching my skin until red and bloody, I don't care how much it hurts, leave as many marks as you want, the deeper the better, my hair falls over my forehead and you make the kindest gesture, your brush it back with your long nails, even if by now I'm sweating like a pig you keep bringing me closer to you, I can feel the light tingles of you breathing in me face, of you biting down on my golden chain making laugh, making me go insane, I keep pushing harder, and you throw your head back, almost letting go of me, but I won't let you, I'll send you to heaven if you want, but don't leave without me.
"Oh, Alex... I'm so close, please..." Your eyeballs turn into beautiful glossy pearls, and you crumble down into pieces as you coat my cock in your warm release, I can feel your walls pushing it out and running down your cozy hole, I stay buried inside you, watching your mouth fall open and choke out your last orgasms, they spin in my head like a tiny little music box, "You're next, Alex... you can't end things like that... you know how much I want it, you already did so much for me" Wait, what are you doing?
Your hands run up my chest, and you massage my shoulders, "You really want me to breed you, you greedy little fuck?" Your hands go down and you massage my balls, Jesus, you really do, I bet you're not even aware of what you're doing to me... or are you?
"Yes Alex, use it... use me" You know exactly what you're doing, I drag my cock out just rimming your walls once again, I better start warming you up, but you don't want that now, you're thinking about me, about what I want, you deserve a little star on your forehead for being so caring, a man and its needs, it's nothing compared to your needs, and I bet you needed someone to get you off correctly.
"You're mine... I want you to say it" I promised to you since the beginning, I won't stop until you're mine, "Are you mine?" I look at you with my big eyes full of hope for you to say it, please tell me now.
"I'm yours Alex" My lips taste your mouth, your tongue dancing with mine. You're made of the sweetest poison
God, I remember that time I was watching through your window, that night you were laying down on your settee, your hand was vigorously and shamelessly rubbing your clit in circles, fucking your little cunt with two fingers, rocking yourself into your touch with the desperate need to rub yourself against something hard, just like you were rubbing yourself against me hard cock. You keep squeezing my balls, your hands sneak into my ass squeezing it gently to keep me going, you love having me right at the edge of ending it all, I can't keep it up for another moment anymore, you're big stary eyes, your little sparkles, your touches, the smell, the noises, you're begging for me cum, I slam my fist next to your head, dragging your body up as I push myself deep inside you and coat your walls in me creamy cum, you're pure bliss as I feel us both coming together, a gorgeous after bliss surrounding us, you have this certain smell, a certain heat, and you're just so beautiful with your cheeks flushed like that.
"Let me clean you up, it's me mess, just lay down" You nod your head, laying gently on your broken bed to not let it crash completely into the ground, you point your finger telling me where the toilet is, and I rush there to grab a few paper towels and clean your skin softly, soothingly, I can feel you relaxing, I can smell my body in yours, the smell of my cologne, your almond oil, and your pheromones. And when I'm done you grab my hand and I can see you thanking me for even that tiny gesture, that's nothing you should be thanking me for, that's the least.
"Now the question is... where are we going to sleep?" We? You want me to sleep here, with you? You're not quicking me out, or at least not yet, this is my chance and I would be lying if I didn't say I was the luckiest man alive.
"Maybe the settee would be a nice place" Your gorgeous olive green settee, corduroy, soft, and marked, I can see you smiling at the space in between your two cushions, I see your giant ivory bookshelf, another mark. I lean forward to pick up what I had dropped when we assaulted the shelf, but it wasn't one of the thousands of vinyl records you've got organized by letter, it's a case... a guitar case. I didn't know that about you. Tonight made me realize that you're a hat full of surprises, the deeper I search the more I find.
"Want some food?... I've got some nuggets and fries... and-" You close your fridge and turn to look at me, "Oh, you know how to play?" I nod my head, trying to stay as noble and humble, you smack your hand into your forehead, "Of course, you do," You sigh and I can hear you whispering to yourself, "Stupid question"
"And do you?" You hum as a yes, interesting, I bet you do, but why do you hide your guitar like that? As if it was buried in this beautiful world with music, colors, words, and meanings.
"I did..." You turn on your air frier and toss some nuggets and fries in there, I'm so happy that you're not like one of those crazy keto girls, you pour us some fresh orange juice as you keep talking to me, "But you know, my mom always told me 'that's just a hobby', and when I moved here I hoped to find some people that wanted to share this fire to try to make some music... but I never managed to, and then I just gave up"
"That's a bit sad, love... you shouldn't have" You lean over the kitchen countertop, amazing reminder, I see you smiling over the edge of your shoulder, but you turn to look at me as you pick up some of our clothes, and then you run into my shirt and you decided to wear it as your sex shirt, you look beautiful, "I mean, being a music producer and making it was hard, but it was even harder to follow something I'm not passionate about" That's what's wrong, you didn't follow your passion, that's what you're missing, "Have you got any songs?" Your face lights up but it quickly slips away, and the redness crawls into your face, What? I'm trying to help you, I want you to be happy with me and with your life.
"I can't accept that" You quickly answered, your head said no but I know you want this, it's served on a silver platter, why can't you let your reserved self accept this?
"Accept what? I haven't said anything, I just asked if you could sing for me... I know you have a lovely voice" You laugh sarcastically at me, leaning over to fetch your guitar, and searching for a notebook on your vinyl shelf.
You sit next to me, legs crossed, guitar on your lap, naked with just my shirt on, your knees holding your notebook as you search for the perfect page for me, you make sure that your guitar is tuned before you start and your thumb softly strums down the notes, making a lovely rhythm, and only two chords, C and Em, your voice sounds like a million angels, and I feel like a lost man after serving the purgatory, your voice is so hauntingly beautiful, your lyrics are very forward, and I'm happy to know through your lyrics how truly you feel about things, you don't search for big words you choose the right ones, you're bold, and you're wise, you try to put an end to your complicated feelings, your questions, everything, all in one song with a few strums and two simple chords.
"That's all," You say putting your guitar next to you, I'm blown away, "I know I suck"
"No!" I answer immediately, "You don't... I think it's beautiful"
"You're just saying that because..." No, I'm not just saying that because I want to fuck you, no not at all, don't you ever believe that.
"I'm saying that because I think you've got it, and you don't want to quit everything to live your dream, I know it must be difficult... but I'm being truthful, you've got summat and we can work on it" Why do you keep saying no with your head? Stop that, if I could rip it off right now... no, don't think that, "Come on, I'm not takin' a piss" You break into laughter with me, throwing your head back, you jump up the moment your oven dings and you run to flip the nuggets and the fries, putting 10 more minutes into the oven.
"Takin' a piss" You laugh to yourself, "Well, if you're not takin' a piss" You imitate my accent and it sounds so silly when you try to do it, "I'm not accepting your help Alex, you have your own thing, and if I'm going to do this, I have to do it on my own," Perfect, I'll take that.
"Why don't you go to Panda's next Saturday? They're looking for some people to play some music, any style, any theme, you can do whatever you want... I'm sure everyone will love you, and you know, there's always someone on the hunt for summat fresh!" I see you thinking about it, I'm not saying I'll help you, I'm just offering the start of something great for you, this is it for you. And yes, I am going to get you the best deal you could ever imagine, but first I have to run things through your notebook, I secretly hide your baby pink notebook, your initials written with a black sharpie, and I stash it in between the cushions.
"I'll think about it" I'll think about it. I hope you do go, I can't wait to see you singing for everyone, you will charm them, "Dinner is served me lord" You're also a dork, just like me, imagine all of the jokes we can make together, they'll be endless.
"My! Thank you, very kind" Dinousor nuggets with a side of fries, the melancholic feeling of your childhood must be present every single day, you squeeze some Ketchup into my plate, squirting into my chest.
"Whoops! Let me clean that for you" You lean in, sticking out your tongue to lick off the ketchup from my chest, "Eat up!" I'm in love with you, "And then we'll get on with that" You look down, and I do the same, shite, look what you do to me, you make me get so hard like a little boy hitting puberty.
"Bugger" I whisper under my breath, you heard it since you giggled, "You know, I think the food can wait right?" You push your plate away and you immediately crawl on top of me, kissing my lips so tenderly, caressing my chin with your fingers, and enjoying the texture of the little hairs that are growing on me cheeks.
"Mmm ketchup" You laugh into the kiss, and our teeth collide accidentally, and us by casualty, "You taste yummy"
"Imagine yourself" You blush hard, something tells me no one has ever made you feel that good about yourself, and that's because no one will see you with the same eyes as me, you're my girl, you will be, I try to flip you but instead you stop me, have I done something wrong?
"We're not going to break this couch, I love this fucking couch, you understand that?" You firmly said, your eyes threatening to kill me if I do as such, "I'm on top" I squeeze your ass tightly biting my bottom lip.
"Whatever she wants... but if I broke the bed it's 90% your fault," You scoffed and laughed as I peeled my shirt from your body gently, making sure I don't break more buttons so you could keep it, "Because you feel so good, and maybe you could be on top, but I know sooner or later... you'll be the one giving into me" Quite intense, wasn't I? Fuck!
"But for now, it's me who calls the shots, so if we break this... it will be 98% your fault, how do you like me now, smarty?" You secure your arms around my shoulder, I pull you in, chest on chest, as I give myself a few more strokes before you slowly slide down my cock, moaning so gently, I like feeling every part of you, I can see how your body twists and shivers when I hit that sweet spot.
"How do you like that?" I rub it in your face, how good I'm making you feel, "I guess one round just wasn't quite enough for you," You start humping on my cock slowly, you're just teasing me again, but I enjoy feeling your body move against mine, your little cries and moans, everything piles up in me, I know this time I'll enjoy you, picture you going in slow motion, I can feel your rapid heartbeat, I can feel the heat wave that raises and wrap us in, I can feel your body begging to mine to stay as close as possible, because that's what your body and my body want, we smile, we laugh, and I fall deeper in a hole full of love for you, and I'm no donkey to use the dirt to get out, I rather stay buried deep inside you just like now. Your body is tired, it's been two hours since your legs worked for the last time, and you beg for more into my ear.
"You're so good, I-I don't understand" What don't you understand, babe? Your fingers intertwine in the back of my head, as you writhe your hips to mine, our bodies dancing together so wonderfully, your hips move in circles against mine.
"Neither of those assholes could ever come close to me, I'm a real man..."
"And you've got the size" You flirt with me so shamelessly, your walls keep dragging me in, your head falls into my shoulder, you're giving into me, fading into me, and it's me time now, I finally get to give you what I wanted since the beginning, make sweet and honest love to you, my hands on your thighs I keep driving your body against mine, I gently bounce you on me lap just to get you to stay up again, you're eyes are shutting, your mouth is falling open again.
"Look at me" I order, and you do what I tell you to do, you look at me towards your end, I hope you can read it in my eyes, I hope you can feel how warm the flesh is, how my eyes, my brain, and heart have no space for anyone else but you, how mad you've made me, I'm obsessed, and I'm not going to lie to myself about it anymore, I don't want to just use you, I hope you can see that, but if you can't, I hope this is enough for you to understand it, my eyes big and dilated for you, my body feels so stiff, it's overwhelming, "You're so beautiful, love"
"If you keep calling me that, you're gonna make me fall in love, Alex"
So I'll say it every single day for the rest of my life, you feel so good on me, your body fits into mine so perfectly, and I'm so close, and so are you, the flesh is tender, the flowers bloom, the sun rises and it's heat rains all over the world, and you and I bond together for one last time before your body crashes into mine, I make a mess, but that's a bit on purpose, "Ah, yes" You sigh into my ear as you let it rest on top of mine. I have the chance to clean your body once more, to clean you up with care and love, my touch is so gentle your body fills with goosebumps, "You really don't have to Alex" You put your hand on my hand, and I freeze, should I stop? Am I making you uncomfortable?
"Sorry... if I'm doing too much" Your eyebrows push together and before I can get away you drag me back by my wrist and smile at me. What do you think of me?
"No, I'm just..." You sigh, you're troubled by your thoughts, "Not used to the 'aftercare' part that's all, you know, sex for us girls... it's not like we see it in films, or read in books, maybe I don't have that magic to turn a beast into a prince, and... I just I dunno, I don't feel weird... you make me feel special, normally, they just leave" Are you... maybe falling for me?
I smile at you, my thumb grazes your cheek softly, "I'm a man, and I'm messy but I just don't like doing that there's an attraction, and if we have sex, unless you ask me to leave I'll leave" I put away the paper towels in the trash, and when I come back I find you waiting for me with my shirt on your body.
"Well, if that's the case" My heart pumps one thousand miles per hour, I feel I'm entering a trance, about to puke my intestines out if you ask me to leave, "You don't mind staying?"
Fuck yeah! "Not at all" I try to keep me cool but I just can't, my heart betraying as I lay down with you.
After we finally had the chance to close our eyes, the sun peeks through the curtains of your windows, the sky painted orange and ocean blue, you smile at me, and you get back up from our little love nest that was the settee, you're quick to find the vinyl with the song we were listening together, the song we kissed to, the perfect song to watch the sunrise.
"Come with me!" I've never heard you so excited before, you run to the kitchen and fetch my boxers from the ground, and I'm a bit troubled by the thought of me wearing my jeans with no underwear but I do nevertheless because I would kill to see you like that every single day.
I cover my body with my coat, and you grab my hand, we run out of your house, and we go through this tiny little white gate, into a garden covered in green chasmophyte, that's the place where the flowers bloom in little boxes of dirt, the perfect place to see the sun, the perfect place to hide, to dream in, it's wonderful, you pull out a chair for me in this old rusty table, you find place to put your music and we listen to Call It Fate Call It Karma as the sun rises from the horizon, I pull you to my lap, wrapping your legs around my arms and hum the song to your ear, the birds are chirping, and the sun warms us from the once oh so cold night.
"You're a lovely singer," You say to my ear, I was never one to watch sunrises, I haven't done that since I was 17, and now with my busy life, I finally get to taste this little piece of paradise that you've given me.
"Not as good as you, bunny" You kiss my nose with a big smile, and I take out from my jeans a box of cigarettes and my old zippo, you set on my smoke, and you love to play with my zippo as your hands run through my naked skin, you love playing with fire, don't you? I just hope someday, you don't get burned in the fire of my love.
A/N
Anon, I want to kiss you. You don't know for how long I've been trying to figure out how to write this chapter, I had to watch You again but it was totally worth it, so thank you!
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juyeonszn · 5 months
Text
JE NE SAIS QUOI
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PAIRING jacob bae x f!reader
WORD COUNT 7.33k
GENRES smut ﹒fluff ﹒itty bitty angst
WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, strangers to ?? to lovers, volleyball team captain!jacob (ohhhh ive been waiting for this one..), lots of 97 liner cameos, jacob is an honorary tbz frat member but isn’t actually a member lol, reader is down bad for him, mentions of alcohol, volleyball terms that i learned from haikyuu 😭, an annoying ex girlfriend, AURKAY here we go: bathroom sex, wall sex, bathroom sink counter sex, and mirror sex all in one, doggy style and also missionary? i guess?, NO FOREPLAY BUT FUCK IT WE FALL LIKE SOLDIERS FOR REAL, marking-ish, unprotected sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, and everyone’s favorite! creampie!, a cutesy ending
SUMMARY jacob thought the concept of fraternities was stupid. so stupid that despite every single one of his friends being in one, he still refused to join. however, after meeting you at one of the tbz parties, he’s starting to think maybe they’re not that horrible.
MORE HELLAURRRR ok i know this is 45 mins overdue but i barely finished this last night and i worked at 5 am this morning so 😭 ANYWAYYY this fic is actually my favorite so far… idk i just have this natural writing affinity when it comes to jacob which u can tell by the length…. if u enjoyed pls reblog! and don’t forget to check out the other fics in the series!
PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies @vernyangel @ericlvr
TAGLIST @millksea
SERIES MASTERLIST
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“And there’s another point for the IST U Bears. Wow these boys are on fire tonight.”
The announcer’s voice booms throughout the gymnasium, intertwining with the cheers of the crowd. They all sound like the buzzing of a bee in Jacob’s ears, but that’s a good thing. It pricks at his skin, lighting it on fire and getting his morale going.
The team just needed one more point and they would win this set, sending them on their way to the championship game. This would be the first time in IST history that their boys’ volleyball team would make it this far, and that was all thanks to Jacob becoming captain for his senior year.
Their coach calls for a quick time out, giving Jacob a moment of reprieve before his final serve of the game. He wipes away the sweat on his forehead, shaking the front of his jersey to air it out and cool him down a little. The team’s manager passes him a water bottle. He loves the adrenaline rush that courses through his veins when he’s on the court. It’s unlike any other feeling he’s ever felt in his life.
“Alright, Bae. You’ve got this, right?” Jacob’s coach gives him a pointed look.
“Of course, Coach. There’s no way in hell that we’re losing this game tonight.” He gives him a firm nod, lips curled into a confident smile. There wasn’t a chance that Jacob Bae would go down without a fight. He was securing that championship seat whether anyone liked it or not.
The team heads back out and a referee hands Jacob the volleyball. He blows a raspberry, twirling the ball on his fingertips while waiting for the whistle. As soon as he hears it, he takes a couple steps back. A breeze cuts through his hair when he runs, executing his infamous jump serve with practiced ease. The ball flies past the players of the other team, hitting the court just in front of the line.
His teammates are yelling and throttling his body around before he even realizes that they’ve won. Some of them are riling up the crowd, others are on their knees crying tears of joy. He was anticipating this outcome, but for some reason he’s still shell shocked. Everything around him is static and white noise.
“Holy shit, Jacob. I can’t believe you did that,” Kim Mingyu, the team’s star middle blocker, slaps him on the back. He’s also drenched in sweat, patting his face with a towel.
“You and me both, to be completely honest.” Jacob laughs a bit, collecting his things so he can head to the locker room.
He’s slightly grateful that tonight’s game ended a little early, giving him enough time to get ready before the Tau Beta Zeta party. He wasn’t even that big of a party person. He only went to provide moral support for his friends who happened to all be in the fraternity. Most people would even go as far as assuming he was also in it considering how often he was spotted at that house, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. He actually thought fraternities were dumb. In his eyes, they held no purpose.
A bunch of guys living together under the guise of brotherhood when in reality they spent most of their time partying was just stupid. You could do that without the fancy titles or the expected respect from fellow students. He loved his friends, truly, but he didn’t understand the hype.
Jacob showers quickly and changes into a hoodie and some baggy jeans. He ruffles his hair in front of a mirror, grabbing his backpack and swinging it over his shoulder. As he’s preparing to leave, someone calls out to him.
“Yo, Cobie! Are you going to the TBZ party?”
He spins around to find the source, learning it belongs to Jeong Jaehyun. The setter nods, pulling his hood over his head. “Like I always do. Why?”
“I heard through the grapevine that Haeun was going with some friends. I just thought I’d warn you,” he squeezes the shoulder that isn’t hoisting his backpack. “I figured you’d want to take things chill this next week with the championship game on Friday.”
Jacob hums in response and Jaehyun takes that as his cue to be on his way. Of course this would be his luck. Just as he thinks life is getting easier for him, something has to come and throw a curveball at him. This something happened to be his ex-girlfriend, who’d done nothing but terrorize Jacob while they were together. Imagine the most toxic, vile person in the world, then dress her in Jimmy Choo sandals and a designer handbag. That was Haeun.
The only logical reason for her to attend the TBZ party was because his friends were still trying to rack up their numbers. He wouldn’t put it past them if that meant acquiring any and every student on campus. After tonight they would find out who won the stupid competition between them and the KAT sorority, hopefully putting a pin in their godforsaken rivalry once and for all. The winner determined if he was even going to the big end of semester party or not.
Jacob sighs, heading out so he can help out his friends in any way he can. Now that he’s been cursed with the knowledge that he might run into his ex, he’s half tempted to just ditch the whole thing. (He won’t, but the idea is flirting with him.) They’ve been broken up for well over a year now, but somehow she always manages to worm her way back and make him miserable. Quite frankly, he’s tired of it.
When Jacob arrives at the Tau Beta Zeta house, his friends are all over the place. Sangyeon is typing away on his phone, pacing back and forth in the living room. The action from the calm and collected fraternity president makes him kind of nervous. He escapes into the kitchen where Sunwoo and Eric are putting away all of the alcohol. Kevin and Chanhee are complaining about God knows what to each other, and he can faintly hear Hyunjae and Haknyeon upstairs. His juniors start clapping and hollering as soon as they see him enter.
“Woah woah woah, we’ve got a celebrity on our hands guys.” Eric jokes, dapping up the older male.
“Congrats, Cobie,” Sunwoo joins in, fist bumping his senior and handing him a beer bottle. “Do you think you’re gonna win next week?”
“I sure hope so,” Jacob snorts, uncapping the bottle with the opener on the fridge. “I didn’t bring us all this way for nothing.”
Nothing super eventful happens after that, just the guys setting up for the party. They’re projecting that this is the one that secures their victory for the competition. Jacob really couldn’t care less, sitting himself on the couch and scrolling through his phone as he nurses his beer. They all maneuver around him, setting up speakers here, lights there. It’s all pointless in his eyes.
When the party has finally started and the house is packed with partygoers, Jacob hasn’t budged from his spot. The only reason he has a fresh beer is because Eric grabbed one for him in passing. This was what he subjected himself to for hours on end every Friday night. His ass cemented to one of the sofas in the living room and his phone being his main source of entertainment.
It’s as you’re exiting the kitchen with your friends that you notice him. You laugh into your drink at the boredom written all over his face. His extremely handsome face. His hair falls into his eyes and slightly obstructs his vision, but that just accelerates the beating of your heart. You don’t know what it is, but there’s something about him that makes you want to learn his name and everything there is about him.
“Y/N, have you found a nice boy to give you a fun time before hell week?” Haeun asks you, running perfectly manicured fingernails through her hair. “That’s the whole point of being here, isn’t it?”
You didn’t want to tag along, honestly. You were content with staying in tonight and studying for your A&PII exam. You only agreed to get Haeun off your back, because you were well aware of how annoying she could get when she didn’t get what she wanted. She gave the KAT sorority president a run for her money sometimes.
“Uh, no. I’ll just see where the night takes me,” you shrug, keeping a poker face so she doesn’t see who you’re already ogling.
Knowing her, she would make it difficult for you. She would torture you and tease you relentlessly because that was just who she was. Haeun wasn’t satisfied unless she felt good about herself. You didn’t know why you were still friends with her. Maybe it was because she was one of the first people who sought you out after your transfer to IST. Maybe it was because you were afraid of being blacklisted by practically every other student if you dropped her. Her power was insane.
“Boring,” she drags out the vowels, rolling her eyes. “I’m gonna see if Cha Eunwoo is here yet.”
You watch as she disappears into the sardine-packed house, looking for the senior. Your other friend, Minjee, just sighs once the dictator is out of earshot— which isn’t even that far considering how loud the music is. She turns to you with a weak smile.
“Don’t let her ruin anything for you. Just go enjoy yourself before she does.”
You don’t need to be told a second time, chugging the contents of your red solo cup for some liquid courage. Your mission was simple; be ten times more fun than the party itself. That would surely catch Couch Boy’s attention. It wasn’t like the Tau Beta Zeta guys didn’t put all their effort into throwing the craziest parties at the school, but clearly this dude wasn’t for it.
Your feet carry you over to the living room, your teeth chewing on your lip nervously. You’d never hit on someone before, let alone at a party. The scariest part was the potential rejection in front of hundreds of your peers. But it was okay! You could do this. You think.
“Hi.”
The word leaves your mouth without your brain even registering it, eyes wide like you’d just done something wrong. He looks up from his phone, mirroring your expression. His tongue darts out to swipe across his bottom lip and then he’s scooting over to make room for you.
“Hi,” he says after a few seconds.
“I’m Y/n,” you extend your hand awkwardly, but he takes it, shaking it with a firm grip that has you crossing your legs. “I— uh— this is kinda weird, but um— I saw you from over there and thought you were cute.”
You swallow thickly, tucking some hair behind your ear. How did Haeun do this on the regular? He smiles at your fumbling and oh God, you think you might pass out from how attractive he is. You don’t have much alcohol in your system and you’re starting to regret how sober you are.
“I’m Jacob,” he rests an arm on the back of the couch. “Thanks for coming up to me. I would’ve missed your pretty face otherwise.”
Is he flirting with you? Holy shit, he’s flirting with you.
“Do you come to Tau Beta Zeta parties often?” You ask to continue the conversation. He nods.
“I practically live here,” Jacob laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners. “How about you, Y/N? What are you studying?”
Oh, so he was one of the members. You wouldn’t have guessed with how disinterested he seemed at his own party. It takes you a moment to realize he’s shifted the focus onto you, scanning your features for a response. You purse your lips.
“Not really. I’m more of a homebody. I’m only here to let loose before finals. I actually just transferred to IST U this semester for the exceptional Pre-Med department. I’m still sorta navigating my way around and meeting people.”
So that’s why he’s never seen you on campus. You’re completely new to the school and you’re in a completely different department than he is. Nonetheless, you’re really cute and Jacob hasn’t put himself out there since breaking up with Haeun. He’s been so concentrated on maintaining his grades and putting in the work for volleyball, he hasn’t even had the time to. But now that finals and the championship game are all next week, he supposes he can allot some just this once…
“How are you liking it here so far?” He asks you genuinely. It winds you a little. You’ve never had someone actually care about what you had to say or show interest in you. Even at your old school, no one batted an eye at you. You doubt anyone knew you transferred.
“The campus itself is beautiful. It’s a lot bigger than my previous one. And so far, everyone’s been nothing but kind to me. I wish I would’ve gone with my gut and came here straight out of high school.” You pick at a thread on your skirt.
“We all live and we all learn, that’s a part of life,” Jacob shrugs, nudging your leg with his foot. “Would you like to grab another drink with me?”
“Yeah, that would be great, actually.” You both stand from the couch.
Since sitting with him, the party has grown in size. Fellow students filled every available corner of the house, nearly standing body to body in order to fit everyone in the building. The amount of attendees should be a fire hazard, honestly. Jacob laces your fingers together so he doesn’t lose you in the mass of people blocking the path to the kitchen. There’s a game of Rage Cage going on where there’s usually a round of beer pong and it looks like this one guy is about to die with how many empty cups are in front of him.
“What are you drinking?” Jacob turns to you once you’ve reached the alcohol table. You shake your head.
“Surprise me.”
“You’re playing Russian Roulette here, Y/N,” his lips curl up into a devious smile that most people would run away from, especially when it’s on the face of a stranger. “You’re really trusting me with your life right now.”
Luckily, you’ve always been into that type of thing. Nice guys who looked like they could give you an unforgettable night. And in the short period you’ve known Jacob, he appeared to be just that. All you can do is nip at your lower lip, the fleet of a smile gracing his sight.
He passes you a cup and gestures for you to taste his concoction. It burns the course of your throat, but doesn’t remind you of straight battery acid. You give him a thumbs up of approval and he cheers, fist bumping the air. You giggle at his reaction. Perhaps stepping out of your comfort zone was the best decision you’ve made all night. He knocks his own cup against yours and takes a swig, wincing.
“I might’ve made mine just a bit stronger than usual,” his voice is hoarse and you can’t help but laugh a little harder. “I put all of my expertise into yours.”
“It’s good to know you’re a gentleman and you’re not trying to get me drunk on purpose,” you tease, sipping at the beverage gingerly. “However, that does mean you’ll need to be flashier in your attempts to woo me. I have very high standards.”
Jacob’s smile widens, his teeth peeking from behind his lips. The expression makes you lightheaded. It should be a crime to look as good as he does, without even trying either. “I don’t know… All I’m hearing is that you want me to woo you…”
He’s caught you red-handed, but it isn’t like you were doing much to conceal that fact. You’d like to think you were being very obvious with your intentions on purpose. You glance up at him from the rim of your cup, your lower back leaning on the counter. “Maybe I do… Are you opposed to that, Jacob?”
He takes a step closer to you, and then another until he has you caged between him and the kitchen counter. Really, he couldn’t give any less of a fuck about the clusters of people nearby. When Jacob Bae had a goal in mind, he made damn sure to work for it. His volleyball career could attest to that. His drink slides across the surface, spilling a little on the back of his hand. He leans down to your ear. “Not at all. But I don’t think you’ll be able to handle what happens when I succeed.”
You feel your cheeks warm, your throat drying, and it’s not because of the effects from the alcohol you’ve just consumed. You’ve known this guy, what, thirty minutes max? And he was already figuring out exactly what it took to get your gears grinding? What a quick fucking leaner. He knows he’s won, too, if the way you’ve gone cotton-mouthed is anything to go by. The ghost of a grin brushes the shell of your ear and it requires the entirety of your strength not to pounce on this stranger in the middle of this goddamn party.
“Everybody who isn’t Tau Beta Zeta, get the fuck out! Someone called the cops!”
A record scratch-like halt puts a pin in the moment, forcing Jacob to step away from you with a groan. This would be just your luck, wouldn’t it? You found a ‘nice boy to give you a fun time before hell week’ and then this stupid party gets raided. It’s annoying, actually. Aggravating, even. Your lips unconsciously form pout out of disappointment and Jacob feels a piece of himself die along with it.
“Shit, you gotta get out of here before they show up and start dragging people out,” he runs a hand through his hair with a hiss.
If it had been a minute earlier, you would’ve fallen to your knees by now. Unfortunately, that was not the case. You needed to find Haeun and Minjee. You do a quick 180° in hopes of spotting either of them.
“Yeah, I need to find my—” You interrupt yourself when you see the former of the two stomping towards you with an indistinguishable look in her eye. “—Friends…”
“Let’s go, Y/N,” her tone is snappy and she glances over at Jacob for a brief moment. You don’t have time to realize what’s happening until her petite fingers are wrapping around your wrist, hauling you out of the kitchen. A yelp escapes your lips as you turn to wave to your… whatever he is to you now.
Initially, you assumed she was just ticked off by the whole cop call thing. At least, that made sense if she’d gotten anywhere with that Cha Eunwoo guy she had been talking about all day leading up to the party. But then Minjee’s driving you back your apartment and she’s whipping around in the passenger seat to give you the nastiest glare you’ve ever been on the receiving end of.
“What the hell is your problem?” She looks two seconds away from bursting a vein in her forehead.
“Wh— huh?” You’re thoroughly confused. What the fuck did you do to her?
“Why were you talking to Jacob Bae? You do know that’s my ex, right?” Her gaze has softened, but could still very much kill you if she wanted to. The wrath of Lee Haeun was more terrifying than that of any horror movie villain to ever exist.
No.
No no no no. The world stops on its axis and it’s like you’ve been told your favorite song was written about a used tissue. You don’t hear anything else she says, feeling like you just had ear muffs placed over your head. This isn’t fair. The universe officially hated you. You were number one on the list of people who deserved the worst possible fate, your name underlined twice with red ink and a star beside it.
You really didn’t have it in you to care about what Haeun thought. If this was the reason you were finally given to stop talking to her, then so be it. What you were worried about was Jacob hating you. He clearly saw that you were friends. Why would he want to pursue anything with one of his ex’s friends? Any sane person would avoid that situation if they could.
Despite not knowing that it was Jacob specifically, you knew the details of their breakup and why things ended so messily. It made sense that she was an authoritarian even in her relationships. That was just in her nature. If she didn’t control every aspect of her life, she would lose her mind. Normally you wouldn’t have batted an eye at that, not nearly enough energy in you to deal with that level of bossiness. But it was starting to bleed into your personal life. And that was a line you weren’t so willing to let her cross.
You could only pray that this was fixable.
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Finals week passes by in a breeze, and before he knows it, Jacob is on the court for the championship game. There’s a different aura to him than there usually is when it comes to his volleyball games. He feels ten times more determined. (He would never admit to anyone that it’s because he’s hoping he’ll see you at the end of semester party tonight.)
He actually really enjoyed your presence and your personality. The rate at which his heart beat around you was something he hadn’t felt in a while and it was nice. He liked those little butterflies that came with the start of something new. He liked the jitters and the giggles and everything in between. It reminded him that there was still youth, there was still excitement in his life.
Sure, it was kind of weird that you were friends with his ex-girlfriend. The same ex-girlfriend that he couldn’t stand being in the same room as for more than five minutes at a time. But from your reaction to her dragging you away, Jacob thinks that you didn’t know about him and Haeun. If you did, you wouldn’t have gone up to him in the first place. Unless you knew and just didn’t care, then he didn’t care either. It’s not like he ever plans to allow Haeun to resurface and sink her nails back into him. That’s one mistake he’ll never make again.
Before he knows it, he’s swapping back into the game. He rolls his neck and pops his fingers, getting into position to receive this next serve. Even with this fire lit underneath him, both teams are neck and neck. With every point that IST scored, the opposing team would just catch back up without breaking a sweat. If Jacob wasn’t captain and wasn’t used to being so calm and collected during matches, he’d probably start getting as pissed as Kim Mingyu looks right now.
The referee blows his whistle and the ball is over the net. Jeon Jungkook, the team’s libero, dives for it, the volleyball bouncing off the back of his hand and back up into the air. It’s currently the fourth set and IST has two under their belt. They needed to win this one lest they wanted to go into the fifth. Everyone is on edge, but won’t stop at nothing that isn’t victory. Jacob shifts to set the ball to Jaehyun, who swings his arm back and spikes it to the other side of the court.
One of their players receives it with ease, and they’re back to square one. There’s that back and forth of both teams setting and spiking, only for the other to receive and send it back over. Jacob feels like this game is never gonna end, especially with how agile their libero is and how in tune he is with their setter. But then he makes eye contact with Lee Seokmin, an opposite hitter who’s proven time and time again that he’ll go wherever Jacob needs him to, do whatever Jacob wants him to. And that’s exactly what he does.
Mingyu bumps the ball towards the net and just when they think Jacob’s going to set it, he swaps places with Seokmin. The hitter gets beneath the volleyball and pushes it off the tip of his fingers, watching as Jacob perfectly times his jump to smack it with the palm of his hand. It’s something the two had only ever practiced a handful of times, but knew it would come in handy when everything was right. The entire interaction is flawless, and the captain’s spike lands, scoring that final point that IST needed to win the set and the game.
Just like the previous game, Jacob doesn’t even register the roaring cheers from everyone around him until they’re throwing him and Seokmin up like they themselves were volleyballs. The team is going insane, hyping up the crowd and running around the court like children. A sense of pride swells in Jacob’s chest, a crinkly-eyed smile nestling on his face like the fondness of a father.
They continue the joy-train all the way into the locker room. Jacob showers and throws on some gray cargo pants, pairing them with a black half-zip jacket. Most of the team was going to the end of semester party tonight, treating it as a post-celebratory reward for their big win. It was still so surreal for the captain. All of the pressure that had been riding on him the entire season, the strive for being someone bigger than himself. He’s grateful it paid off.
Meanwhile, you were damn near ripping your hair out, nerves eating away at the edges of your stomach like you were with the skin around your nails. After a taxing week of final exams and the anxiety of wanting to see Jacob Bae again to clear any bad air, you found yourself at the TBZ end of semester party along with Haeun and Minjee. You were thankful that your life was intact, Haeun’s irritation simmering into something a lot more bearable.
Though just a smidge pissed off that you didn’t do your research, she wasn’t as mad about the whole break of girl-code incident. She got off of your back a little too easily, though, so you were still waiting for another strike. You couldn’t help but feel as if she was planning another form of action.
You’d been at this party for at least an hour, and the attendance was double that of last week’s. They weren’t kidding when they said this was the party of all parties at IST University. You were starting to think that maybe Jacob really was going to avoid you like you were the Black Plague or equivalent. Why else would he not be at one of his own parties? Wasn’t it, like, a requirement for fraternity members to make an appearance at the things they hosted?
Being friends with Haeun really screwed everything up for you. Not only did you have to sleep with one eye open, but also keep your distance from just about every male on campus out of fear that she fucked with them, too. Why did it have to be Jacob Bae? Why couldn’t it have been someone more douchey, more up her alley? He was way too sweet, way too cute for someone of her kind. He deserved someone that could hand him the world. (Not that you were insinuating that it was you, but even you knew you were a better person than Lee Haeun.)
And as if a higher being truly existed, your prayers are answered in the form of Jacob Bae walking through the front door. A gaggle of partygoers surround him and the group of guys he’s with, including some of the fraternity brothers. You faintly hear whoops and hollers over the near deafening music, everyone patting them on their backs. Most of the attention is on Jacob and his gorgeous smile, though.
“IST U’s pride and joy! National volleyball champion, Jacob-fucking-Bae,” Lee Hyunjae wolf-whistles, shaking him around like he was maraca.
Jacob laughs, looking down at the floor to shy away from all of the eyes on him. He’s glad everybody is pleased with his accomplishment, but really all he wants to do is find you. He’s still not 100% sure you’re even here, but he has high hopes that maybe you were into him as much as he was with you. Now that he’s free of both volleyball and schoolwork for a while, he can take his time getting to know you better.
You psych yourself up to go over to him once his audience has parted and gone back to whatever it was they were doing prior to his arrival. A grimace consumes your features as you knock back the cup of jungle juice in your hand, blowing a raspberry. Minjee gives you a smile of encouragement, like she knows exactly what you’re about to do.
However, someone beats you to it. You watch with bated breath as Haeun flips her hair over her shoulder, her heels clicking on the wooden floor all the way up to Jacob. The sight of another girl talking to the guy you’re interested in has never made you as ill as it does right now, her glossy lips pouted and her hands clasped behind her back.
“Heard about the big win, Jakey,” she smiles almost evilly, calling him by a nickname that he hasn’t been called in months. “Wanna claim your prize?”
Jacob knows what she’s doing. It’s obvious. Haeun saw the two of you together last week and now she’s pretending that she gives a shit just so she can feel like she’s the one in control. He’s seen this scene too many times to fall for it. He pokes his cheek with his tongue, hands shoving into the front pocket of his jacket.
“Don’t you have someone else that you can bother, tonight? I’m spoken for.” He shrugs, stepping around her. Okay, so perhaps you’d only had one conversation together. That was enough for him. He doesn’t have to search far or wide for you, a grin replacing his deadpan once he sees your face. “Hi.”
“H-Hi,” your voice comes out unsteady. “I— uh— wh— well, I kinda thought you were avoiding me.”
His eyebrows quirks up. “Why would I do that?”
“Because I’m friends with your tyrant of an ex-girlfriend and I’m a horrible person for still wanting you,” you begin to ramble, playing with a strand of your hair. “And then you weren’t here.”
Jacob laughs, pushing your hand down and tucking the same piece behind your ear. “I don’t really care that you’re friends with Haeun. Honestly, no one’s ever *really friends with her. It’s hard to stand a person who’s that insufferable. And I’m on the volleyball team. Tonight was the championship game, which is why I was late.”
“So you don’t hate me and want me to die?”
“I could never.” He shakes his head, taking one of your hands into his.
“If that’s the case, then can you show me how to properly enjoy a frat party?” You trace patterns on his palm.
“I’ll be so real with you, Y/N, even *I don’t know how to do that,” he snorts. “I’m not a Tau Beta Zeta member, so I guess that explains it.”
“Woah what?” You gape at him. “This entire time I thought you were…”
“Nah, I’m just friends with all of the guys here. I might as well be, but I’m not. Frats are stupid to me,” Jacob leads you out of the living room and into the kitchen to get himself a drink. “Though, I don’t think they’re that bad anymore.”
As he’s reaching for an empty cup, a thought crosses your mind. It’s bold, but you don’t have the willpower to force it away. “You know, you didn’t get to show me what would happen if you succeeded in sweeping me off of my feet.”
He pauses what he’s doing, turning to glance at you over his shoulder with dark eyes. Are you saying what he thinks you’re saying?
“And something’s telling me you were extremely successful.”
*Fuck the drink, Jacob thinks to himself, dropping the cup in favor of whisking you away. He pulls you into the nearest empty room, which happens to be the downstairs bathroom. From one second to the next, you’re pinned to the door, both of your wrists firm in his grip. He’s so close that his nose nudges yours, lips only a hair’s breadth from your own.
“Should’ve known you were dangerous from the get go,” he breathes, the distance between you driving you crazy. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”
A gasp escapes you, your eyelids fluttering shut. This was pure insanity. Before you can complain about the lack of contact, Jacob’s mouth is on yours, lips moving against yours so skillfully and so roughly. He takes your wrists into one hand, holding them above your head while the other slips beneath your top. His fingertips burn into your skin and you don’t hold back the whine that sneaks out from your chest.
You pull back for air, sighing when his kiss travels down your neck and focuses on your collarbone. It’s not enough, you need to feel him everywhere. Your pulse is racing and you’re sure he can feel it when he leaves a trail of nibbles and kisses along your jawline. They travel south, paving their path on what’s visible of your jugular and sternum.
There’s a haste of fingers roaming and lips exploring. This was uncharted territory for, seeing as you hadn’t been in a situation like this since moving schools. If there was anyone you wanted to get down and dirty with in the bathroom of a frat party, it was Jacob Bae. His free hand wanders under your skirt, a knuckle running along your clothed, but damp, slit. You both hiss.
“Already so wet for me?” He asks you smugly, the curve of his smile carved into the space where your ear meets your neck. You don’t have the patience to power through any teasing.
“Need you so bad, Jacob,” you don’t like the pitchiness of your voice, or how you’re pretty much begging right now. “Wanna skip the foreplay.”
Jacob grins almost wickedly, kissing the tip of your nose. “So ready and so eager for me. Your wish is my command, sweetheart.”
He doesn’t waste any time getting you out of your clothes, starting with your top and then shoving your skirt past your thighs. You kick it off and move to help him. His jacket comes off in one fluid motion, giving you the perfect display of his muscular back and toned abdomen. All of years of volleyball came to fruition in the form of his godlike sculpted body.
You drag a nail through the valley of his abs, unbuttoning his cargoes and palming him through his underwear. He curses under his breath, forehead falling to your shoulder. You may very well be the death of him, he decides. When he’s finally had enough, he swats your hand away, removing the briefs so he can give you what you so graciously asked for. He pumps his length a couple times before guiding the tip to your entrance.
Jacob hooks one of your legs around his waist, pushing your panties to the side so he can slip into you carefully. You don’t even stop the moan that breaches your vocal cords, back arching off of the door and your chest pushing into his. The stretch burns slightly, but not nearly enough to interrupt the pleasure coursing throughout your body. There’s a fire in the pit of your stomach that he fans the flames of the deeper he sinks into you, lips imprinted into the skin of your neck.
His fingers burn the skin of your thigh where he holds it up, slowly pressing his cock into cunt and sliding out as soon as he bottoms out. You’re dizzy, so dizzy that stars have begun to form behind your eyelids and he’s only just started. He rocks into you at a meticulous pace, the blunt nails of his other hand digging into your hip to keep himself composed.
He wants to take his time with you first. He wants you to feel every ridge and vein of his cock as your walls squeeze him in. He wants the feeling of the two of you connected to be engraved into your brain, a memory that nothing could erase even if it tried. Your head knocks against the door when you crane it to give him more access to the column of your throat, whining when he sucks marks into the surface.
“F-Fuck, Jacob,” you whimper. “Feel— god— feel so, so stuffed.”
You practically hiccup your words, overstimulated with everything that’s going on at once. It’s too much. The way he nips at your skin. The way he groans every time you clench around him. The way he’s *buried into you like you were the only source of warmth he’ll ever get. It’s too much, but it feels fucking fantastic.
“Yeah, baby? Am I fucking you good? Giving it to you like no one else can?” He exerts himself, his lips slipping on the thin sheen of sweat coating your bodies. All you can do is moan again, bucking your hips into his to minimize the gap between you as much as physically possible.
His cock is just the right balance of girth and length, filling you up and hitting the spots you need him to. Your sanity falls through the cracks with every click of his hips into yours. He *is fucking you good. He *is giving it to you like no one else can. It didn’t even take him long to figure out what you liked, using that knowledge to his advantage so he could ravage you.
You’re too lost in the pleasure to notice the coil in your stomach curling to the point of snapping. With each ram of his dick in your pussy, he winds you up more and more until it breaks in half. You see nothing but white for a few seconds, spots of various colors bleeding into it. A sound so far away from you bursts out from its home in the back of your throat. Your orgasm coaxes out his, painting your walls with milky ropes and a moan of his own.
The two of you pant breathlessly, lips brushing as you attempt to calm down. Jacob pinches your side, kissing you once before pulling out and letting go of your hip. “Do you have the energy to give me one more? I don’t think I’m finished with you just yet.”
You let out a guttural groan, nodding and colliding your mouths in another desperate kiss. Your fingers run through the strands of his hair, tugging at the nape of his neck as he transfers you to sink. He spins you around, bending you over the counter and pecking your shoulder as he eases his cock back into the velvet of your pussy.
You’re both still sensitive, sighing at the feeling of a second intrusion. He grips your hip and presses down on your lower back just as he speeds up the pacing of his thrusts. Instinctively, you hike up a knee onto the counter, wanting him even deeper and even harder than previously. Heat pools in that same spot at the base of your abdomen, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.
“Look in the mirror, sweetheart,” he grunts, throwing his head back and tightening his grasp on your waist. “Want you to watch me fuck you stupid.”
You wail, eyes heavy lidded as you witness Jacob plowing into you from behind. It hurts, the fact that you can’t even convey into sounds how amazing it feels. They’re all trapped in your chest and throat, begging to be set free. You wish they could bounce off of the walls, reverberating in your ears. Your cheeks are wet from the tears that have spilled over. You look like a mess with your makeup smeared and your face puffy. Anyone who saw you after this would know exactly what went down in this bathroom.
Jacob doesn’t slow his assault, instead hovering over and trapping you beneath his broad frame. He drills into you deeper, harder, faster— and oh god you don’t want him to stop. You think he’s making good on his word, fucking you so insanely stupid that not a single thought occupies your mind. All there is, is Jacob Bae and the deliciousness of his cock wedging itself further into your cunt like he wants to live there.
“You’re taking me so well, baby. So so well,” he coos, your back curving into his chest.
Your elbows might give out from supporting your weight and now Jacob’s too, especially with how empty your head is. You don’t really have the consciousness to keep yourself up. It’s at the point where the mirror has started to fog, a blurry image of him abusing your pussy in your line of sight.
He knows you’re on the brink of an orgasm, your walls spasming slightly in warning. He pulls out enough to flip you onto your back, pushing in and resuming where he left off. His thumb sneaks down to your clit, rubbing in precise circles with precise pressure. Despite there being no mirror covered in steam in the shape of your bodies in front of you, your vision is still hazy. You can barely see the expressions Jacob makes, his brows knitting together and lower lip between his teeth.
You pull him down to connect your mouths, whining into him as he continues to fuck into you like there wasn’t a whole party still going on on the side of the door. Your knees are folded to your chest, allowing his cock to kiss all the way inside of you. “I’m— fuck— so close, Cobie.”
“C’mon, baby, you can cum for me,” he goads, applying more pressure to the shape he’s drawing on your clit.
One particularly timed thrust and the bumping of his pelvic bone on the sensitive bundle of nerves tips you off of your peak. Your climax washes over you, tidal waves of pleasure cresting at full force. You moan loudly, the rippling of your walls triggering Jacob’s own release.
He pulls out gently, for the final time. His chest rises and falls rapidly, in sync with yours. You’re both exhausted, spent from going at it like jackrabbits— as if you’d never get the chance to do it again. You meet eyes and then burst into laughter, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks.
“That was… Wow…” You breathe, moving some of his hair from obstructing his eyesight.
“I always follow through with my promises, you know,” he wraps his arms around your waist. “So, what do I get now that I’ve wooed you?”
You press the hints of a kiss to his lips. “An exclusive all-access pass to me, my phone number, and the rights to ask me out on a date whenever you please.”
Jacob smiles that crinkle eye smile of his, knowing full well that he plans on cashing all three of those right now. He may have not been the biggest fan of fraternities or their parties, but he sure as hell loved them at this moment in time.
He thinks he was a winner in more ways than one that night.
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© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.
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whispering-ways · 6 months
Text
• ⪩⪨ ♥︎ love struck ♥︎ ⪩⪨ •
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♥︎ summary: you've just come back from a horrible date and your roommate, Midoriya, helps comfort you
♥︎ pairing: izuku midoriya x reader
♥︎ tags: no warnings, just fluff :)
♥︎ notes: hi everyone, hope everyone is having a good day and I hope y'all like this fic! love y'all and thanks for supporting my fics <;3
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You close the door to your apartment with a sigh and head to the kitchen. “Yet another piss poor date,” you think to yourself, fatigue settling in your bones. At this point, it was just too tiring. You’d downloaded every single dating app you could think of; you tried your luck on Tinder, Hinge, Bumble, and everything else under the moon. But regardless of how wide a net you cast, you always seemed to pull in the worst fish. It’s not that you hadn’t found anyone attractive or no one had liked you, but every single time you went on a date, it just managed to go sour. 
The first date you’d been on seemed really nice at first, but with the way the guy kept on mentioning that women should be good housewives rather than ‘trying to shoot for the stars’, you knew that pursuing him would go nowhere. The second guy was no better. You’d agreed to go back to his place, just to realize it wasn’t even a place at all; it was his parents’ basement. The third guy? Gross, absolutely gross and that’s all you were going to say. And that led you to today. Today’s date seemed like a shoo-in. 
The guy you were talking to was nice, smart, and sweet and it really looked like he was into you. So when he asked you out on a date to a nearby French restaurant, you were genuinely excited. At the least, it gave you a chance to dress up. But after nearly an hour of waiting, you realized that you’d been stood up. You were so upset thinking about the whole situation that you didn’t even notice your roommate on the couch when you took off your heels.
“Hey, I didn’t think you’d be home by now. Thought your date would take a little longer than an hour,” Midoriya said, moving to the side and patting the seat next to him, motioning you to sit next to him. Although you didn’t want anyone to see you upset like this, you were so glad to see Midoriya right now. You’d agreed to move in with him about a couple of months ago since you two were already best friends for years. And what you needed the most right now was your best friend and a good and proper vent.
“Yeah I’m fine, just that all my dates keep going terribly and I’m practically un-fucking-loveable or something,” you reply, throwing your purse on the couch and slumping down.
“Ok, no need for sarcasm. What we’re gonna do is you’re gonna sit here and we’re gonna talk it out okay?” Midoriya replies. He gets up to go to the kitchen to get a glass of water before handing it to you. “Now tell me exactly what happened.” 
You take a sip and lean back on the couch, placing the glass to the side. “Well, I went to the restaurant and like I thought it’d be like a nice date, like at least a good time you know? But apparently, I’m a fucking moron or something because I sat there for like 45 minutes waiting for him until the staff had to kick me out because of the long wait times.” Just talking about it made tears well up in your eyes.
“What the hell; did he at least send you a text or anything?” Midoriya asked.
"Oh.. that’s the best fucking part is, I walked out of that restaurant and checked Hinge. I had sent so many messages asking where he was, and guess what? He fucking unmatched me!" you share in disbelief, wiping away the tears with your sleeve. You then grab a pizza roll, attempting to find some comfort in food. "I don't know why this always happens.. I just feel like I'm always going to have terrible luck, it's like I'm cursed. Maybe I'm just delusional and need to accept the fact that I'm unlovable..." you speak sadly, staring blankly.
Midoriya placed his hand on your shoulders, abruptly turning you to face him. Surprised by his sudden movement, you paused in your conversation. "Don't say that about yourself, okay? You are loved by so many people, and you're absolutely loveable. All the guys you've just talked to are just douches, and you deserve so much better than them.” You nod your head and wipe your tears, doing your best to pick yourself up. 
He lets out a sympathetic sigh. “How about I make you some of that spicy ramen you like and we watch a movie together? You relax and I’ll take care of it all,” he suggested. 
You chuckle at the sweet gesture. “Yeah...yeah that sounds really nice actually.” A part of your heart felt a pang of hurt at his actions; although it was a sweet friendly gesture, that’s all it’d end up being. Just a friendly gesture. But you did your best to erase that thought from your head.
Midoriya gets up from the couch to start cooking the ramen and you head to your room to change out of your dress into some more comfortable pajamas. You tie your hair up before heading to the kitchen and sitting on the countertop to watch Midoriya cook. After a moment or two, you pipe up and ask whether he needs any help.
“No, I’m all good; just sit there and look pretty. Besides, it’s just ramen, there’s not much to do with it.”
You blush at the reply, but shrug it off and reply “Well at least I offered.” 
As Midoriya cooks the ramen, you both slip into talking about your lives. Midoriya talked about what an ass his boss was being, which was a great way to distract you from your own problems. The light gossip lifts your heart, and you feel refreshed and ready to tackle the world. Once the ramen is prepared, he scoops two bowls and walks towards the couch, where you follow behind him. You sit down and he walks over to your bedroom. With curiosity, you wondered what he was doing there, but shortly after, he returned with your favorite blanket in hand. 
It warmed your heart how much effort Midoriya put into cheering you up. He momentarily takes away your bowl of ramen, only to spread the blanket across you and return the bowl back to you. You take a bite and immediately melt into the couch; it is just what you need. Midoriya joins you on the couch and hands you the remote to pick out a movie. After flipping through a couple of options, you finally settle on a rom-com that you’d been wanting to see for a while. 
It didn’t long for you both to finish your ramen and from there on out, all you both were focused on was the movie. Or at least, it seemed like that’s what Midoriya was focused on. All you could think about was how close you both were. You didn’t know what compelled you to offer whether he wanted to share your blanket with you, but you were definitely glad that you both were sitting closer together. Your fingertips were barely brushing with his and you could smell the cologne on him. “Pine and just a hint of smoke,” you thought, but you knew thoughts like that were only going to hurt you. After all, you guys were just best friends. 
You try your best to remain focused on the movie, which seems to work fairly well. Not too much longer passes until you and Midoriya begin making comments about the film, which had always been your favorite part of watching movies with him; he always had something out-of-pocket to say about what you two were watching.  The climax of the movie had the hero show up at his crush’s door with a bouquet, ready to ask her out. "See that right there? That's what I want. Some flowers and all that stuff on a date? What wouldn't I give to experience a date like that,” you exclaim with a dreamy expression on your face.
You hear Midoryia laugh, and you turn towards him, confused. “What’s so funny?”
“It’s just funny you say that like you haven’t ever gotten flowers ever,” he replies, focusing back on the movie. 
“That’s because I haven’t,” you mumble quietly, but not quiet enough to slip Midoriya’s earshot. 
He whipped his head around to look at you. “That is genuinely insane, if I could take you out I'd have gotten you flowers for sure, what a damn shame honestly.” You look at him stunned, wondering whether if what he said had registered in his own mind.” Well, you know I mean a girl like you, not you...not that there’s anything bad with you..ugh I’m just fucking it up,” he stammers, his hands flying to cover the rosy blush that now covered his entire face. 
You turn away from him and an awkward silence passes between you both. But there was no way you could just leave it off at that. “So you want to take me out then?”
“No..well I mean yes, I’d be privileged too but...” he trails off before sighing, leaning back into the couch. His hands still cover his face as he says, “I just...in all honesty, I don’t want to take advantage of you being upset right now and I know that you don’t have feelings for me so a date would just complicate things, you know?”
Saying that you were thrown for a loop was an absolute understatement. It took you a moment or two to process what he just said before replying, “It’s not like I haven’t thought about it you know. And it’s not like I don’t have feelings for you.”
Midoriya shot up at break-neck speed. “”What?? What do you mean by that??”
“No it’s whatever really, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you say, fiddling around with the corner of the blanket. 
You feel Midoriya's hands gently move over to cover yours, pulling you back to look towards him. His eyes searched for an answer within your own and when you continued to stay silent, he said ”Literally if you don't tell me I'm going to spend all night trying to figure it out and you know I won't with how oblivious I am."
You look down at your interlaced hands and reply, “Well, you know, you’re my best friend and I genuinely enjoy spending time with you. Like I don’t think many people make me genuinely as happy as you do and I have feelings for you. I’ve thought about like being with you, but I like friends with you and  I don’t want to weird you out and push you away.” 
Midoriya lets go of your hands and for a moment, you think that this was the end, he was going to move out and never talk to you again. But before you can even register it, he pulls you into his arms and hugs you tight. He pulls you back and shifts his hands from the small of your back to your face, cupping it. His face has a huge grin plastered all over it. “Weird me out? I didn’t want to weird you out! I love spending time with you and I’ve wanted to go out with you for a long time. You don’t realize what a dream come true this is.”
At first, hearing that shocks yu, but then you start to laugh at how silly the situation is. You hug him back, happy to be on the same page. After you both let go, you smile and a moment passes between you two. It's a bit awkward but you know what you both are so happy that it’s okay. “Is it okay if I kiss you now.”
You’d never seen a man nod quicker in your life. “Yeah, yeah, that would be nice,” he replied, trying to play off his nod. Your hand slips to his cheek and you lean in to kiss him. You feel his smile against your lips, making you absolutely giddy. You pull away from him, your face flushed red. You looked up at Midoriya, whose green eyes shone with admiration. He just looked too cute; you couldn’t help but lean back into pepper kisses all over his face. 
With passion, Midoriya's need to hold you became too overwhelming. He gently eased you into his lap, lifting up both legs so they straddled his. Taking you by surprise, he kissed you repeatedly, as if to convince himself that this was no dream. With every separation of his lips from yours, he seemed more and more content. Breathlessly, he asked, "Is it too early for me to ask you to be my girlfriend?"
“Absolutely not,” you say, snaking your arms around his neck. You pour every drop of affection and joy you had for Midoriya into the kiss. “This is like a dream come true,” you thought.
You two spent the rest of the night, cuddling with each other as you finished the movie. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’m so glad that guy flaked on you,” Midoriya said, kissing you softly on the forehead. 
You chuckle, leaning on his shoulder. “I couldn’t agree more.”
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