#also i drew this a while ago i was wanting to write something with it before i posted it but im struggling to write at all so heres this
Note
Hi!! Could you write one of the Curtwen prompts I made, yet didn’t cut it? I love your writing style!!
Honestly there was a bit of deliberation here because you put some really good ideas out there on the form, but I did say I'd write em myself, and by all means, I'll still do it! So, I decided to go for this prompt:
Would you take a modern au from me? Can I do that?
I mean, I'm going to anyway, because I have a dire need to call Curt and Owen husbands (and also for wider Starkid lore), but i just thought I'd warn you beforehand!
"Agent Carvour, have you found anything yet?"
Owen leaned back away from his research. He'd been looking at the same page now for a while, trying to make some sense of it. Redacted government files were hard to get hold of, but even harder to make ends of. His system had been trying to translate it, but not even he had the software for that.
"Quite possibly, sir. I have a few sources, at least."
"What have you got?"
With an air of something that was almost excitement and almost elation, Owen pulled up a series of documents and started the walk through them. "Well, sir, the easiest source was from a few years ago. There's a company in Michigan that's been trying to conduct various temporal experiments under their parent company— some kind of analyst company, I think. They're surprisingly ordinary. Anyway, apparently the experiments just… Stopped. They never drew a conclusion on whether or not their research was connected to what was on the other side."
This had all started when Chimera had dug up a series of centuries old reports about people claiming to have looked into the eyes of old gods. None of the people had known each other, but all of the reports showed some form of consistency, and all told of great, unknowable power.
So, they had decided to look into it, to see if there had been anyone else who'd dared to brave the process of trying to find an answer. Owen was one of those lucky enough to find himself with the resources to start a thorough investigation.
"They didn't finish?"
"No, I don't know what happened, but the reports just stopped one day."
"Is there anything else?"
"An american government report, but it's as hard as you can imagine to decipher. Most of it is redacted…"
"Anything worth noting?"
Owen nodded, carefully turning back and switching the tabs. This felt a little like he was giving a presentation that he hadn't prepared for, and he hadn't felt like this in quite some time. He took a breath, trying to slow down the rampage that was going on in his head. "They started in the early noughts. 2005, to be precide. That's the earliest I'd gotten without looking at those old reports from the pioneers. A branch of the military tried to build a gateway to the other side, to investigate what existed outside of our plane. I don't know names, only one. The name of the man who performed the experiment."
"They got this gateway open?"
"Yes, sir. And they sent someone through. I think there's a good reason why his is the only name they disclosed."
"Why?"
"Because he was declared dead, sir."
His screen still displayed the document, and the man's name sat among the black markouts, clear enough to see. Cross, W.D. Apparently, he'd ventured into the portal, and nobody heard from him or saw him after the date of the experiment. They gave up the search after a month, and after that, Colonel Cross was indeed declared dead.
"So, another dead end?"
"Maybe not. I'll do what I can to uncover this with what I've got available, but it was scanned, so…. It might take some time." Owen was normally confident in his abilities, and uncovering government documents was a difficult yet necessary part of the job. There was something almost genuinely enthralling about scraping off the parts that the world's governments wanted to keep secret. It felt like giving people a small yet surprisingly effective slice of justice every time.
"Keep looking, Carvour. We need to know if this is viable, or even worth our time…"
If Owen had any kind of normal life— if he and his husband didn't both do the dirty work for secret operation services— he would have a blast trying to decide how to describe the intricacies of what he'd been researching lately. The throws of domestic life confounded him to no end, which was why it was so funny when he and Curt tried to imitate that.
The otherwise simple question of "how was your day" turned into a battle of who could craft the most believable lie that better concealed what they'd actually done. Neither wanted to jeopardise their jobs, and Curt had always been brilliant at crafting stories, so it was never dull.
He started to think about what today's excuse would be. Something about pioneers, or the Oregon trail, or perhaps he could bring up that old, dead colonel somehow, that would be interesting to add to the pile.
--
"You know what I'm gonna ask already…"
By the time he got home, Curt was already waiting for him, and the mid-spring sun was starting to set. For anyone else, it was a day at the office, but the trails he had begun to uncover had really put all other days at the office to shame.
He laughed softly, having prepared this answer a number of hours before, and took up a position on the couch. "No, love, you first. I insist."
"Fine, okay," Curt answered with a chuckle. "It was nothing really, just your standard… But, the bear returned, and in about a month, I'm gonna get really rich and run off to central Europe, with a really pretty lady and a dollar store box of magic tricks."
"The same bear from last month?"
"Yeah. Bastard won't leave me alone."
"Sounds wild. Are you coming back after your plans to run off with this really pretty lady?"
"Plan is to cut myself off after three weeks, but at this rate, I might not make it two."
"Not good enough?"
"Owen, I'm a bit too gay for that." To sell his point, he flashed his wedding band, and Owen laughed harder. "Besides," he added, covering his own bout of laughter. "Who needs a fake wife when I've got my own right here?"
Owen shot him a faux-offended glance. "How dare you!"
"You might fool the guys at work, O, but you couldn't pretend you don't think about it…"
Or that he hadn't been experimenting in that part of himself in little segments since he was seventeen. Turns out he suited long hair better, and he wouldn't hesitate to admit that he both looked and felt rather good with the occasional flourish.
"You know me well..."
"I should hope so! Anyway, what're you keeping from me? How was your day?"
"Office, just like you. I've had a conversation with a pioneer, and tried to erase marker pen over the body of a dead soldier. Oh, and I tried to teach myself statistical analysis."
"Jeez, that was— that was a whole rollercoaster there, huh?"
"Mhm, I've been busy."
"You can say that again, god… So, a pioneer? Like those guys that travelled to Oregon?"
"Yeah. Quite interesting people, if a little paranoid." Something other than their oxen might be watching them would've been a perfect addition to the statement, but Owen felt that was a little too close to the line to pass, so he decided not to add it.
The important part was, apart from the knowledge that Curt was on an assignment in a month's time, both of them were none the wiser. Curt didn't need to know that he had started the deep dive into a pack of eldritch gods and was even slightly nervous about the outcome.
He didn't sleep well that night. He knew that he had right to believe that this was all one great hoax, that there was something in the water that made the pioneers mass hallucinate this supposed watcher. They all travelled on the same trail, it was entirely plausible that all of them found the same hallucinogenic and envisioned a thousand eyes watching them and their familes. It was less of a coincidence when two subsidaries of larger companies started describing details of experiments that led them to discovering other beings beyond just the watcher, of course, but he still wasn't sure whether he was privy to believing any of it.
There was something about redacted government files, though, that were meant to be believed. There was a reason they hid information from the public, and that was often because they had found something worth disclosing in the first place. That meant huge news, large press cover ups… The whole works… And that was the last thing any self-respecting government with something to hide would want. Owen imagined the size of the initial press conferences for dealings like Roswell, how many people must've shown up to that conference, under the impression that they were going to get answers, only for the press to redact the next day and claim that it was no more than a weather balloon.
He felt like he was dealing with a weather balloon of his own right now. This was something that this branch of the military clearly didn't want people knowing. The only reason they'd had to disclose any information at all was because one of their own had died looking for this information, and they had to provide the closure for whatever family he had left. Part of him wondered what they'd said, how they'd tried to cover up this man's imminent demise at the hands of another dimension. What did his family know? Was he ever given a sendoff?
When Owen tried to sleep that night, plagued with the thoughts of how much his research was worth, and what really happened on the other side, he couldn't get his head in the right place to take a suitable rest for long enough. Flashes of colour— brighter than anything he'd ever seen— danced behind his eyelids, chasing each other in sequence. Blue. Purple. Yellow. Pink. Green. White. Blue…. He didn't have much of the capacity to think, not when those colours started consuming his subconscious thought, but he spared a moment to the hope that he may get answers of his own if he stuck around long enough.
"He thinks he's brave… He thinks we don't know about him…"
Whatever dream he had been having was taken over by blurred edges and violent pangs of pain that he was sure he could feel outside of this existence. Everything faded out, leving only ruin in it's wake. Broken pieces, scrambled signals… Owen didn't even try and make sense of it, he already understood the futility of trying. There was nothing left in his mind but those colours and those voices— for he was sure there was more than one. A sickening chorus, holding perfect time with each other.
"He's foolish, if he thinks he can go further without us finding out."
"Owennnn…"
"We know what you're doing, Owen…. It's not going to last."
He'd thought about meeting his maker before. He'd thought about the possibility of death, the idea that he may not live to see another day eventually. It was hard to deliberate something so serious in his early thirties, but his line of work called for it. He knew that he had a dangerous job, and that there were few who would be able to save him if something happened.
But, he'd never considered the possibility of his own demise to this extent before. In the formless remains of his dream, where he was forced into hearing these voices talk about his death and how soon it would be to coming, he had pause for deliberation. And it wasn't good.
He had to strain to take control of his own voice, in this space that was once his own. Once so sacred, now scarce and left entirely to the whim of whatever was taking residence in his mind. This was a bad idea. All of this research was a bad idea, and he was suddenly more aware of that than he was anything else. Never before had he had such a violent urge to overturn everything he'd worked on for the sake of something this seemingly trivial.
"There's nothing you can do. It's already started. This is bigger than me…"
"We know that. You're not the only one we have heard trying to work your way into what is ours… Choose your next step carefully, Owen. I'm sure we would delight in taking you in the same direction as the others…"
Before he could really ask what that meant, he was left entirely alone. The ruin of his dream still stood strong, which was strange enough given that the voices had left him alone, but he had the strangest feeling that there was more to this landscape than just what he was being shown. He started to wander, to look around in an attempt to find the real end to all of this. His mind was a wasteland, taken over by the lack of colour and the apparently deafening absence of those voices that had only appeared a moment before. He felt empty without them, although he knew nothing more than the sequence of colours that paraded through his vision.
Blue… Purple…. Yellow…
The pattern was familiar, like he'd seen it before somewhere. And while he wasn't resting easy, he couldn't force himself to wake up, either. No matter how hard he tried, he was just left stuck, wandering the expanse until he found what he was apparently looking for.
Pink…. Green…. White… Blue…
The expanses of his mind stretched out into a road, occupied by nothing but empty space. He supposed that was mostly his own fault; he had known for years that his imagination was never one to be put on par with anything else. He couldn't so vividly picture that which others could, and he'd never really had much of a capacity to dream, either.
So, this warning was strange. Seeing such vivid, bright colours in the back of his mind, knowing that he couldn't have conjured them himself…
He started to walk the road, curious enough to want to know where it went.
"Owen?"
That voice wasn't like the ones who had left moments before. That voice had a personality, and a person to go with. It was warm, though scared. Human all the same. And Owen knew the shape of it.
"Owen?"
Owen let his instinct lead him down the road, through it's many curves and winds. Eventually, the road gave way to what could only possibly be a stage. There was a set of stairs to one side, that he let himself climb before he could think to wonder where they led, and then the familiar voice gave way to a man in the wings, staring at him with desperate, fear-lined eyes. Of course he knew the voice, and of course he had never tried to doubt himself on the matter.
He tried to advance towards Curt, but he took a hasty step back, shaking his head.
"Curt?"
"Prove you're Owen."
"I'm sorry?"
Curt hesitated, and then slowly emerged from the wings. Even though he stood on the light of the stage, it still looked like he was carefully enveloped in shadow, like the darkness was a comfort to him. Owen looked around, wondering what had made him so cautious, and whether it was still around. Had Curt seen what he'd seen? What had those things whispered to him?
"I'm not falling for it again. Tell me you're actually Owen…"
Owen frowned, not wanting to dwell too much on why Curt was so afraid to reach out to him and realise that all of this was as real as they could get it. "Curt, love, I don't know what you want me to say…" There was a certain desperation about him too. Improvisation had never been his strong suit, but he wass confident that, given the right prompt, he would be able to convince his husband that he was who he said he was, to quell any discrepancy that it may have been otherwise.
"Don't. Show me… What happened on your 25th birthday."
The pieces fit into place, and Owen nodded dutifully. He had been out in the field that day, a strikingly hot day in the middle of June. The two of them had barely ended up with three hours together by the end of it, and they'd gone out drinking to celebrate what little time was left of his birthday. He'd never been particularly big on celebrating, but Curt had insisted. They were newly married then, and getting used to the idea of sharing a life with someone else. That was one of the first nights following their wedding when Owen truly came to realise that he'd made entirely the right decision, and that there was nobody he'd rather share his life with than Curt Mega.
"My 25th… That was a home ground mission. I was in the state."
"What happened to you?"
Owen smiled, somewhere between fondness and a need to hide the melancholic air that hung about that question. He pushed up the sleeve of his jacket, and huffed a weary breath of laughter. "I was trying to make my exit, but the suit jacket caught on a fence. Here…" With his sleeve rolled to just the right length, Owen held out his arm and pointed out a pale flash just below his elbow— a jagged scratch that had never quite healed right. "That's what happened after the fabric tore. Is that enough?"
Curt had known about the scar. He'd also known about the story. He was pretty sure that nobody else knew, though, so in his head, that had always been his fallback option in the event that he was ever sure Owen needed to prove himself. Those stories lined up perfectly, and while Owen had missed out on some of the details, in the grander scheme of things, he'd gotten it exactly right. He shifted, letting a knowing smile cross his face through the fear that still gripped him.
"It's really you…"
"Of course. Why wouldn't it be?"
Curt's approach was still careful, premeditated. Even though he knew the truth now, there was still something about him that screamed a lack of trust directly into his ear, and it made actually reaching out for Owen so much harder. "You… You were trying to kill me."
"What now?"
"I know what I saw…"
"I don't doubt you, but I would never… I swear it on my life."
"I know, that's why it was strange… I— What the hell's happening?" This stage was the only thing connecting the two of them to reality. There was nothing beyond it but the end of the road that Owen had travelled down, and nothing behind it but black, empty space.
Owen let his instinct take over. If the two of them were going to face the unknown, whatever and wherever this was, then they were going to do it together. They always had, and they always would. That was the way things worked, especially for the two of them, because their lives were built so heavily on the idea of distrust that any semblance of the opposite they could get, they would cling to. Normally that was exclusively each other, and so the world wasn't usually much larger than the two of them.
Their hands connected in the middle of the emptiness. Owen pulled Curt Closer to him, and the two of them stood side, performers to an unknown audience, marionettes for something larger than themselves. They exchanged a glance, and Owen registered the warm, homely spark residing in Curt's eyes.
"I think we're trapped in a nightmare, crazy as it sounds," he tried to respond, but he wasn't entirely sure where this was going to go. "I can't wake up, but I remember falling asleep last night."
"Me too. I fell asleep before you did, you were still reading."
"Right, and now there's this. Whatever this is. did you, by chance, see those colours too?"
Curt nodded. "They came before you did, before the- other you. Blue, and purple, and yellow…"
"…Pink, and green, and white..?"
"And then blue again."
Owen heaved a sigh. "Curt, there's something I have to confess. It's safe to do so now, there's little that could get in the way of what I have to admit, but this is one of those things I wouldn't be able to tell you awake, you understand?"
There was a moment's pause, in which Curt tried to work around Owen's phrasing. Both of them felt the incredibly revealing sense that they were being watched, so Curt understood that Owen had gone into the professional mindset— switching off his senses for the sake of making as much sense of something as possible. It was always how he rationalised his way through situations, and it hadn't failed him yet.
Eventually, Curt nodded again, as the words started to sink in and he started to get a sense of what was being said. "This about what you told me this evening?"
"Yeah, I'm afraid there's a little more to it than what I told you, but I suppose that was rather obvious."
A nervous breath of laughter left Curt, only partially voluntary. "I thought there'd be a bit more to it than erasing marker pen over the body of a dead soldier…. What the hell kinda explanation was that, anyway?"
"One I spent a good hour crafting, thank you very much. I thought it was clever."
"Better than a pretty lady and a box of tricks?"
"And a bear, yes."
"… And the bear. Right. Well, what's that mean? erasing marker pen over the body of a dead soldier, what're you saying there?"
"I've…" This is not going to get you done for. Those documents were already top secret before you saw them. And if it gets you out of this nightmare prison, then surely it has to be worth it. "I've been uncovering sealed military case files that might explain what's happening to us right now."
Curt's eyes went wide. "Fucking what?!"
"It's all part of the job. I can't… I can't elaborate. Know only what everyone else knows: that the only reason any part of this is disclosed at all is because someone died during one of the experiments."
"What's that got to do with what's happening here?"
"That's what they were researching."
That seemed to click to some degree. At least, Curt seemed to understand a few of the larger pieces, perhaps the more obvious ones. "The colours?" In his head, there was an experiment, someone tried to make sense of whatever that was in their shared mindscape. Someone— a soldier, presumably, had died in the middle of these experiments, and now Owen had gotten tangled in this mess through his agency, and the two of them had been dropped into the same nightmare.
Owen nodded. "The colours."
At the moment he said that, a loud rumble disrupted their moment and forced their attention out into the expanse of nothing. Laughter— multiple sources with varying shrieks and gasps that couldn't be placed to a single source— burst from behind the wings, and from in front of them, and from the endless expanse of black that surrounded them. A loud crack followed, and Curt swore as the stage splintered beneath his feet. For a split second, his grip loosensed, and the next time the ground rumbled, they were torn apart by the growing crack in the stage. He staggered back, and the two of them ended on opposite sides of the stage, the crack between them growing and delving deeper into the unknown.
"Owen!" He called, trying to regain his footing but falling back.
"Curt! Hold on!" Owen yelled through the growing laughter, scrambling back to reach out for the pulley system backstage. He needed a foothold on something, a way to sturdy himself so he could regroup and think. It was too loud, he couldn't think in this kind of heat, with this kind of mess, and Curt, and-
Another crack. The stage was starting to fall away from itself, split not quite perfectly in two. Owen's breath ran short. In the swirls of colour and mayhem and possibilities, he saw a way out. One chance to get this right, and to make sure that they both survived the fall while they were still stuck here. He gripped the rope tight, levering himself further towards the crack, and looked to Curt. "You're gonna have to jump it!" He called, desperation winning over any attempts to stay sane. "Don't worry! You know I'll never let you down!"
"Are you crazy?!" Curt managed, staring into the gap. "I can't jump that, it's too far!"
"Curt, before the whole place splits in half, you have to get over here!"
"What if I don't make it?"
"Trust me! Please!"
Curt backed off a few paces. Owen stood ready, one hand gripping the rope wrapped around his wrist, and the other reaching out as far as he could, waiting for a move to be made. After a singular preparatory breath, he sprinted for the gap, and pushed off from the splintered wood at the edge.
He reached out.
Owen reached out.
Their fingertips connected briefly in the space, and then Curt slipped away beneath his grasp.
Owen threw himself forward, feeling the rope worming itself free and burning his wrist in the process. He'd promised. He wasn't going to let Curt fall. And he was nothing if not a man of his word.
Curt's eyes squeezed shut, preparing for an endless fall through the ineviatble. Something laced around his wrist and he felt himself stop moving. Exerting all the caution he knew to exert, he looked up, and caught a familiar whiskey brown staring back at him.
"I've got you!" Owen breathed, and Curt fought to angle himself so that he could get a better chance to grab the broken stage floor. When Owen started hauling backwards, Curt managed to get a hold of the edge of the stage, and made it a joint effort to haul him to his feet. "You're alright… You're okay…"
Curt essentially fell into Owen's arms. Owen held on tight, like he could lose his partner at any second to the swirls and the crevice. He stared out into the emptiness, ignoring the very real pain that he could feel at his wrist but cherishing the very reel feeling of Curt's shirt underneath his hands. The very air seemed to shift. Owen wasn't previously aware that colours could get angry, but this green that flooded the space behind his eyes was pissed. He could feel it.
So was he. Pissed, and way more desperate than a man ought to be.
"Alright," he muttered once, and Curt drew back ever so slightly. He noticed Owen was staring off into the greater expanse, and hoped for all it was worth that he couldn't see something out there.
"Alright!" His voice got louder, and he tried to mask his utter despair in an authorative tone. "I get it. You hear me? I get it!"
Everything fell eerily silent. The only sound that remained was the pounding of Owen's heart in his ears. He took a breath, strangely certain of himself. Glanced at Curt. Spared his attention on the void again.
"That soldier… Wilbur Cross? That was your fault, wasn't it? There's a good reason nobody can get very far into digs like these, and it's because you strive to kill them before they do. Nobody ought to know what's on the other side, and that's why nobody does…"
"Owen, what're you doing?" Curt whispered, but to no response and little avail. Owen was lost in whatever he was about to say.
"… But, I've heard talk of bargains being made here, so how about it?"
"Your desperation speaks for itself."
Owen had to pretend that that— the voice from the middle of nowhere or what it had said to him— didn't bother him in the slightest. He steeled himself, not sure where to direct his attention but knowing he'd probably have it right no matter what he chose. "What do you say, am I allowed to make a deal?"
The air shifted. Owen didn't receive a direct answer, but he knew that he'd been allowed to continue. "If I don't continue— if I go back, and tell my people that it's an impossibility, that it can't be done— would you let him go?" Another quick glance at Curt, as if the green something needed clarification, or as if he knew what he was signing himself up for.
Curt was frozen in place, his eyes wide. He'd heard every word as it echoed in the void, and he hated what it was implying. His gaze was fixed on Owen, fear blazing through his face. "No, Owen—" his voice came out weak. As far as literal interpretations go, that was not a good one. He didn't understand what was happening, but it terrified him to know that Owen was being so calm about this, while he could be selling his life away with nothing more than a few choice words.
Owen frowned, and muttered an apology he was sure only Curt would catch. The green grew angrier, setting a violent fire behind his eyes and forcing him onto his knees as the pain flooded his body.
"You better not be fucking with me."
"No! I— I wouldn't! I'm serious! I'll call it off, I swear on my life, just… He has nothing to do with any of this. It's not his fault."
The thing considered, holding Owen firmly in place while he deliberated. Curt couldn't move— he didn't dare, lest something happen to Owen that put him in more danger than he was already in. All he could do was force himself into keeping his breath steady, and not thinking about what a single wrong move could do to either of them. His eyes landed on the friction burn winding neatly around Owen's wrist, and he decided to focus on that for a while; the only other colour in a void of blackness and green.
"Very well."
That was the last thing Owen heard. Some part of his mind just shut down, and he collapsed to the floor of the stage. He didn't hear the way Curt screamed his name, or the return of the chorus of laughter. His eyes closed, and the next thing he knew, he was waking up with a start, underneath the sheets of his own bed, gasping for breath. He sturdied himself out, and once he was sure that he was real, and definitely in a familiar space, he looked over to Curt, and found him still asleep.
"Curt?" His voice was soft, but his mind was a knife point of tension. If that had gone wrong, then why was he the one to live through it ant not Curt? He tried again, biting his lip. "Curt..?"
Curt groaned. His eyes opened slowly. The relief that Owen felt hit him like a tidal wave.
For some reason, Curt was entirely surprised to see that Owen had made it through to the other side. He managed a weary smile, and tried to get his vision into focus. That was one of those decisions that he immediately came to regret. As soon as he brought himself a little more into the real worls, he noticed that the brown in Owen's eyes was stained with something else, and it made him feel sick to his stomach. Dripping down his irises was a flash of toxic, unsettlingly bright green.
#spies are forever#saf#starkid#agent curt mega#owen carvour#star mail#void offering#nova's tags →#wiggly would have an absolute field day with owen and curt huh#bc desires run deep. they want each other. they want to be free...#but curt wants to not be haunted by the ghosts of his past#and owen wants to move on. to get a better future where he doesn't have to devote his life to an agency#might be fun to play around with
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"You just threw up the water you had ten seconds after drinking it, but you're still gonna keep saying you're fine, huh?"
#i think about them every day#atsushi#also i drew this a while ago i was wanting to write something with it before i posted it but im struggling to write at all so heres this#im sorry im taking forever im burnt out from working my brain is fried too much going on#sskk#my art#bungo stray dogs#bungou stray dogs#bsd#emeto#fever#vomit mention#emetophilia#high fever#shin soukoku#akutagawa#sickfic#sick art#emeto art#nausea#sicknario#sick#illness#vomiting#thermometer
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even if it’s a false god — e.m.
part two; we'd still worship this love
pairing: modern!college!fboy eddie x fem!reader
warnings: smut!!!!!!, 18+, MINORS DNI or ill bite u. p in v, cr*ampie, kinda br*eding kink, unprotected s*x (wrap it up irl angels, this is fiction.), angst angst angst, ASSHOLE FBOY EDDIE!!!, drinking, degrading, swearing, praises, nicknames, vv slight ch*king kink if u squint, some rough stuff.
summary: in which you are friends with benefits with modern!fuckboy!eddie (wc:4.1k)
a/n: i was def thinking of a pt.2 for this while writing it tbh. mr asshole munson needs to repair some hearts!!! also i made the pic in the middle bc i couldn't find a fitting picture w this lyric lmaooo!! did not proof-read!! ignore any mistakes AND PLSS send me ur thoughts ily xo, em
“It was fun babysitting you, sweetheart, but I have to dip,” Steve whispered in your ear with a sympathetic smile, his hand pointing toward the blonde who was impatiently waiting for him.
“What?” You asked, baffled. “Steve, you fucking promised!” You groaned.
“Jesus Christ, do you not have any ounce of self-control?” He asked, and you gave him an intense look.
“Obviously not!” You huffed, arms crossing against your chest, causing Steve to chuckle.
“Robin will come back eventually! And in the mean time, just stay the fuck away from him,” He warned.
“Now, I gotta get laid.” He winked. You tried to open your mouth, but he interrupted. “I swear to god, Y/N, I don’t wanna hear another word from you, you’ve cockblocked me enough this week.” He said, annoyed.
You rolled your eyes, huffing as you stood straight, “Fine! Have fun.” You exclaimed, and Steve grinned, “I will, sweetheart. And you, just... hide from him or something.” He shrugged as he guided the blonde girl out of the door.
Jesus fucking Christ.
You were pathetic, asking for Steve and Robin to babysit you, so that you wouldn’t end up under Eddie again, so that you could at least save some of the self-respect that you were sure probably didn’t exist at this point.
They knew each time you said you were done with him, it was a lie. They knew you’d go back for more, but now it had been two weeks—two whole weeks—where you managed to stay away from him, blocking him for good.
And you could feel yourself cracking; you wanted—needed—him with every fiber of your being, and it was driving you crazy.
He drew you in with whatever he did, like a magnet always pulling you toward him, making you need to be around him, at all times.
You missed the way his hands grazed your thighs, the way he fucked you so rough and senselessly, but also so gently. The way his pretty mouth framed compliments so fucking sweetly, but turned dirty the moment he was pounding into you, praising you but degrading you at the same time.
He was so good at fucking, but was shit at everything else.
Just like you.
So the idea of being friends with benefits sounded like heaven when you first suggested it. No feelings attached, no exclusivity, just fucking each other's brains out while also having someone to chat with afterward.
It was supposed to be simple—so fucking simple.
But the moment feelings got involved, it turned out for the worst. Jealousy was a bitter monster that gnawed at the insides of the two of you, and it had turned into something so incredibly toxic that you knew you had to end it. Your friendship was long gone now, turning into a bitter competition where you either fucked or argued.
Exclusivity was not something the two of you ever discussed, you knew you were bad at relationships, and Eddie knew he wasn’t good at feelings, so it was a topic you always danced around. Arguments ensued the moment one of you fucked someone else, and bitterness was present in your veins like it had always been there.
When Eddie decided to fuck another girl two weeks ago, you decided you were done. This wasn’t good for the both of you, and you needed to stop it as fast as you could.
You knew the emptiness you felt right after you fucked was not worth it, no matter how good Eddie was.
You were tired of sobbing into Steve’s chest drunkenly, confused about what you even felt for Eddie when he was out there fucking another girl.
It was starting to leave a bad taste in your mouth, and you didn’t want to hate Eddie—not more than you already did at the moment.
But there stood Eddie, curly hair laid messily on his forehead as a guitar pick adorned his neck, his infamous leather jacket paired with those black pants were your nightmare—dream—combo, he was sprawled on the couch, thick thighs spread apart, you wished you could part them further with your hands, rub him through his pants as you got down on your knees for him, giving his delicious pink-tip kitten licks as you tasted his salty pre-cum—
What the fuck was wrong with you? You shook your head as you turned around immediately, gazing into your empty cup as you hurried off to the kitchen.
Your cheeks grew hot from embarrassment, you seriously had no fucking self-control or respect.
“You need any help?” Eddie’s voice rang in your ear.
“‘M fine,” You muttered, voice barely audible.
“You know I’ve been lookin’ for you.”
“Why? Did you finally run out of girls to fuck on campus?” You said snarkily, a smirk tugging on your lips.
“Don’t act so fuckin’ innocent now, sweetheart.” He tssked, causing you to throw him a quizzed look.
“Didn’t you go home with Mr. Jock last week?” He was being possessive again, and you hated how it picked up your heart rate, you were stupid.
“So?” You quirked a brow, teasing him, and he gave you a slight chuckle.
That smug asshole, why did he have to always look so good?
“So…how was it?” He asked, and you could feel his jaw tensing as he took a step closer to you, trapping you between the drink stand and his body.
“You’re disgusting.” You groaned as you pushed him away from your face. You were not going to give in.
“That bad, huh?” He mocked, scrunching his nose.
You rolled your eyes. “No.” You lied.
It was bad, really fucking bad; the guy lasted 30 seconds and left you with nothing. That greedy bastard.
But you weren’t going to let Eddie know that.
“He was really good, actually.” You were lying through your teeth, and thankfully, Eddie didn’t seem to notice. An intense rage flashed through his eyes.
“You sayin’ that punk is better than me?” He slurred into your ear, his breath ragged and hot as it fanned against your neck. He smelled so fucking addicting—a mix of sandalwood and nicotine, earthy and making you crave him at the same time.
You don’t even know how he even came to that conclusion, but it was funny, seeing him like this, nostrils flaring as rage filled his veins, like he was in torture hearing about the guys you fucked, he deserved that.
But your silence at his question meant everything to him; he didn’t need an answer. You knew he was better, and he knew that you were crawling closer to his palm now.
He grew more confident because of the way you stuck to him. “I've seen him in the locker room, sweetheart. He’s not that fuckin’ impressive.” You didn’t mean to gasp, but it slipped past your lips quickly.
“Munson!” You warned, a smile tugged on your lips, and you realized how pathetic you were being again, but it was too late now.
“Don’t think he can make you smile like I do, either.” He grinned smugly, his calloused hands quick to pull the strand of hair on your face, to see the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled, so fucking promising.
“You're a jerk,” You spat, groaning as you turned around, trying to avoid him, but it was no use; the damage was done, and you were putty in his hands again.
He had a tight hold on your arm, possessive again, and you were sick for enjoying his rough side. He spun you around to meet him, eyes dark, before he held you in place. “A jerk who makes you feel good,” Eddie purred in your ear, fingers tracing toward your exposed skin, one touch from him, and you whimpered, all that anger fading away so quickly.
He chuckled darkly. “Missed those sweet lil’ whimpers,” He whispered in your ear again, fingers quick to find their way toward your panties.
He drew slow circles with his thumb while you tried to remain tight-lipped, but it was impossible.
“Jesus—fuck, Eddie som—someone could see...” You didn’t mean to throw your head back against the wall. Your eyes fluttered shut, and Eddie shrugged.
“Don’t care, sweetheart.”
“Well, I do.” You didn’t; Eddie could fuck you right here, right now, and you’d be fine with it, but you weren’t ready to admit this to yourself, and you didn’t want to take the chance of Robin seeing you like this.
He groaned as he dragged you into the nearest room. You would’ve cried at the loss of contact if he didn’t have a tight hold on your body, calloused hands gripping at your curves, and your thighs rubbed together at his touch.
Eddie was quick to pin you against the door, his hand curling around the back of your neck. He smashed his lips against yours without hesitating, kissing you the same way he made you feel; explosive, hard, and dizzying.
He pulled back to look at you.
Sweet Jesus.
His gaze was intense, and it made you feel so fucking exposed that it startled a gasp out of your lips.
You fisted his shirt when you had enough, yanking him closer to you so that you could feel his body pressed into yours. Everything you felt was pure hunger, craving him deeply.
Your heart was pounding in your chest when you felt his rock hard bulge grinding against you, calloused hands gripped your ass as you whimpered; you were at his mercy now.
“What were you sayin’ last time? That this would never happen again?” He mocked, whispering against your face, his gaze never leaving you.
Your eyes narrowed, but it was impossible to keep up your act when his fingers started ghosting over your thighs again. “Fuck. You.” You spat.
“You don’t have to ask me twice, baby.” He grinned, chuckling when you whimpered under his touch.
“God, I love those sweet noises you make for me…” He murmured, you rubbed your thighs again at his words. “I bet if I flipped that little skirt of yours… I’d find you gushing for me.” He groaned.
And you remained tight-lipped. God, you didn’t want to feed into his huge fucking ego, and you wanted to wipe that smug smirk off his face.
But he was so right. Your thighs were dampened by how aroused you were.
He was quick to slip his fingers past your panties, a grunt escaping his lips once he pushed past your folds, your slick covering his fingers. He chuckled darkly. “You’re soaking my fingers, honey.”
“I—Fuck—I hate you.” You squeezed your eyes shut, and Eddie reveled in it, his fingers pushing inside of you while his thumb stayed on your clit.
“Always sayin’ shit you don’t mean, baby.” He mocked. “Gonna make you beg for my cock, if you keep’ talkin like that.”
You were panting and head dizzy as he pushed his fingers in and out of you. You were going to lose it, and he had barely started.
When he finally undressed both of you, you were out of it, while his hands were still on your clit as he groaned at the sight in front of him.
You were perfect.
His breath was ragged when he traced your chest, eyes bulging when he realized you had no bra on, pleasure ignited in you more and more when he cupped your breasts, teeth tugging your nipple as his fingers still toyed with your clit.
“Perfect tits, just made for me, huh?” He growled, making you mewl; you were putty in his hands, and with each movement, you were getting closer and closer to beg him for more.
The more you whimpered, the rougher he got with you, curling his finger inside your cunt as he hit that one spot, eliciting a moan from you as you threw your head back.
“P—please.” You whimpered, and Eddie tutted.
“I’ve seen you do much better than that.” He hummed. This arrogant asshole was going to be the death of you.
“P—please, Eds, please.” You begged, and your moans died down your throat, before he slowly dragged his fingers out and shoved them back in.
Your head cocked to the side in pleasure, and he was quick to take advantage of it, licking a path from your neck to your ear, grinning.
“Mhmm… not good enough, baby.” He purred in your ear as you whined, “Jesus fucking Christ—” Your cursing was interrupted when he yanked his hands away.
No. No. No. No!
“Shitshitshit—Please, Fuck, Eds...” You murmured, eyes shooting wide open, “Need your cock inside’a me.” You mewled again.
His dark chuckle reverberated through you, “See, that wasn’t that hard, was it?” He mocked, causing your eyes to narrow.
“You assho—” He didn’t let you finish as he wrapped his hands around your throat, just enough to punish you but just enough for pleasure to course through your veins. And it felt so fucking good.
You shut your mouth quickly, “What were you saying, baby?” He purred.
God, that egotistic prick was pushing you to your last fucking limit; you could do it, you could hold it off. But on the other hand, you could feel yourself pulsing with need; if he didn’t pound into you soon, you knew you would’ve been a pathetic blabbering mess.
“Please, please, Fuck me,” You grunted. “I need you, Eddie.” He didn’t respond as he tapped your thighs, signaling for you to wrap your legs around his chest, and you were quick to oblige.
Mind spinning before you got a chance to process what happened, he slammed into you with a vicious thrust, he was so fucking thick that it made you let out a guttural scream, tears welled at your eyes as you tried to adjust to his size.
It wasn’t long before your loud noises turned into incoherent babbles and squeals as he kept his pace.
“Holy shit, baby,” He groaned, watching his cock sliding into you, “Such a warm fuckin’ pussy, and so fucking tight… Jesus…”
You trembled beneath him, tits bouncing up and down as your mouth hung open each time he slid further into your cunt, and Eddie wanted that image etched into his brain forever.
He tilted you upward, hitting spots you weren’t even aware of. You were quick to wrap your hands around his frame, your nails digging into his back, roughly.
He was the only one who knew you like that; both emotionally and physically, and the same went for you, that’s why the two of you never could truly let each go, clinging to each other like a child did to their favorite toy.
You know no one else could fuck you like he did, and that smug bastard knew it, too.
The way he was pounding into you while uttering curses at your ear, furiously slapping into your body as if you were nothing but his personal fucktoy, truly his.
And you realized how sick you were for liking it, truly enjoying being this way with him.
“You look so fuckin’ pretty when you take my cock, such a tight fuckin’ pussy and all mine, yea?” He panted causing you to nod, you were barely able hold his gaze, and he groaned before his hands roughly grabbed your cheeks, forcing your head in his direction.
“Look at me baby…” He purred, “Look, how well your cunt is squeezin’ me. You feel that, peach?” He sheathed himself further into you, and you could feel your walls clench around him, a contented groan leaving both of your lips.
It was fucking perfect. Everything was rough and messy, there was nothing emotional about the way you fucked. You were both using each other to cum as much as you wanted to, not stopping until you were both sweaty bodies.
He could make you come apart in seconds if he wanted to, knowing your body better than anyone else. And you could make the scary freak Eddie putty in your hands if you wanted to; it was a fucked up game of control that had the two of you going at it for hours.
Was it fucked up? Yes.
Did it feel good? Absolutely.
“Would that asshole be able to make you come apart like this?” He asked, fingers digging into your hips, sure to leave a bruise.
This wasn’t the first time Eddie had been possessive; it was a sick, twisted game that you also participated in, almost as if both of you knew that you could never be with anyone else.
You nodded mindlessly, you weren’t going to give into him that easily, again, he grunted at your lack of reaction.
“Tell me, baby.” He growled, his pounding slowing down to make sure your orgasm was out of reach for you, torturing you until he had you begging under him.
You weren’t sure if you wanted to give up this fast. “Beg me, honey.” His movements picked up, and his hands were quick to toy with your clit, a sharp burst of euphoria rang through your body, leaving you speechless.
You clenched around him—a big fucking mistake—and he grinned smuggly again. “I know, baby, I know you’re close.” He panted. “I can make you cum, angel.” He promised, “Just say the word.”
“Asshole,” You groaned between his forceful thrusts, and he chuckled darkly. You rolled your hips against his when his movements faltered, seeking the warmth and the friction when he thrusted into you fully, filling you to the brim.
And that prick was thoroughly enjoying your torture. “Tell me it’s all mine, that you’re all mine.” He purred against your ear.
You couldn’t. You shouldn’t.
But the way his thumb circled around your clit, so agonizingly slow, and the way his cock was prodding into you so slowly was torture. God, if he just picked up his pace.
Don’t.
You try to convince yourself, but it's to no avail, you are clenching down on nothing, and it hurts. Your hole is pulsing now, and you need him more than ever.
“P—please,” You mewled, causing Eddie to give you a slight smirk. “Please what, baby? Use your words.”
“I’m all yours,” You murmured, “He could never fuck me like you could.” You added, humming contently, when Eddie started to pound into you relentlessly again.
“Please—I need to—Jesus, Eds.” Your words slurred into a moan as he increased his speed, his finger circling your clit roughly.
“Oh fuck, fuck, baby. Feels so good.” He panted. “Please—please make me cum, sir.” You sobbed, unable to hold it back anymore.
And that was all Eddie needed to hear. “Cum for me, honey.” He pleaded, and you gave him low whimpers as he started fucking you faster again, watching the way his cock disappeared into your gushing cunt.
“Wanna feel you cum on my cock, baby.” He breathed.
“Shit, feels so good, Eds.”
“Jesus—Please… I’m going to—” You bit down on your lower lip, unable to stifle the moans leaving your lips as his assault on your clit was enough to bring you over the edge,
“I’m gonna—I’m…Holy shit, oh god!” You sobbed, whole body convulsing in pleasure as you came around his cock, your vision blurred and mind foggy as you didn’t realize how your orgasm was triggering his.
Eddie was whimpering for you now, “So fucking good, holy shit.” He panted, movements getting sloppier.
“I’m gonna cum, fuck, baby. My perfect fucking girl, yea?” He heaved a breath.
“I’m gonna fuck this—Gonna fuck my load into you, peach.”
“Gonna fill you with my cum—Fuuuck.” He growled, animalistic noises escaping him as he exploded inside of you, thick ropes of his warm cum painting your walls.
He groaned when he slipped out, mouth-watering as he enjoyed the sight of you fucked out of your mind, and his load dripping down your thighs.
The relief you had was short-lived as that sinking feeling came to you again, the emptiness, the loneliness.
Was all of it worth it?
The two of you dressed in silence; the weight of what you did was hitting you all at once. You did it again. You had sex with him again. You let him use you again—it didn’t matter if you used him too, it meant something different for you than it did for him.
All those thoughts you had about feeling good faded out quicker than you thought they would.
You were so fucking pathetic.
Jesus Christ.
You felt sick, what the fuck did you just do?
As soon as Eddie got dressed, he gave your cheek a sloppy kiss. He was going to leave you all alone again.
You should be fine with this, this is what always happens.
Don’t—don’t say anything, just take your last bit of self-respect that is possibly non-existent and leave without another word—
“You’re…leaving?” You exhale, your mind racing with ideas.
Shit. Just shut the fuck up.
“Don’t act so coy now, sweetheart.” He gave you a slight smile, but all you wanted to do was slap it out of him.
“We both know what this was.” He muttered, that conceited dickhead still had that smile on his face.
“And what exactly was ‘this’?” You pointed to the space between the two of you.
“Fucking, no strings attached?” He added, shrugging. The fact that he had no clue about anything was pissing you off.
“Unbelievable.” You gave him a dry chuckle.
“What?” He asked, baffled.
“Is that all I am to you, just a warm body?” You said, face crinkling with disgust.
“I’m confused.” Eddie said. “You—you were the one who fucking suggested this.” He breathed.
“Well, I’m un-suggesting it!” You exclaimed angrily.
“You—you are so fucking confusing!” He spat. “I told you—I told you we could be more... told you we could try... us.” He stuttered. “You were the one who refused!”
“You were drunk! You can barely fucking say it now!” You spat back.
“What... what do you even want, Y/N?” He asked, holding his gaze.
“Do you want a relationship? Do you want something meaningful?” He pondered, a sarcastic chuckle escaping his lips.
“Is it so wrong for me to want that? To want something real?” Your voice carried so much emotion, and that’s what killed him.
He couldn’t have a relationship with you even if he wanted to; he recognized his own turmoil, and he feared he would drag you right down with him. No matter how similar you seemed to be, he was sure he’d ruin you, completely and utterly. And not in a good way.
He swallowed physically; the lump in his throat wasn’t going to go away.
He couldn’t let you have hope; he couldn’t let you down again—he had done that enough.
''A relationship with you is the last thing I see myself doing.'' He almost whispered, but you heard it loud and clear.
Your brows were quick to furrow, and your jaw was was set in a tense manner. The lust in your gaze was long gone by now, containing only rage while you glared at the source of your pain.
“Fuck. You.” You spat, tears threatening to spill but you didn’t want to give him that satisfaction
“You are a sadistic fucking asshole, Munson.”
“Jesus… I think we should stop—whatever the hell, this is.” He exclaimed.
“Fine by me!” You exclaimed back cheeks heating up from anger.
“I really am done with you, this time.” Despite the intensity of your gaze, he could sense the subtle vulnerability in your eyes. The subtle pain that was fueling your anger
“Oh, I’m sure you are.” He chuckled smugly. This was something you two had joked about before, but it wasn’t funny now.
He saw you in the palm of his hand because you always came back to him, he was right… until now.
The fact that he laughed in your face at the thought of being in a relationship with you was too much, even for your low self-esteem.
“I don’t care what you think.” You didn’t even hold the rage you held before; only disgust was visible in your tone.
“You’re dead to me.” You replied curtly, your voice distant and chilling.
And Eddie knew how much he fucked up, truly.
There was nothing he could do now.
“I didn’t mean it like—” He regretted what he said immediately, but you dismissed his protests, gathering your jacket in your hand as you slammed the door behind you.
Tears blurred your vision as soon as you left, the lively sound of the party clouded your mind as you silently sobbed, trying to find Robin.
You knew how unattainable he was, and how much he truly hurt you, and as fucked up as it was, that's exactly why you loved him; led by blind faith that it would be different.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fic#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#fuckboy!eddie munson#modern!eddie munson x reader#fuckboy!eddie munson x reader#eddie munson angst#stranger things imagine#eddie munson
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Crazed Nights | K.SN & Y.JW
「parings」 : sunoo x fem!reader x jungwon
「word count」 : 7.1k
「synopsis」 : after being ghosted by the guy you were seeing, you went out to a bar with your friends, getting drunk off your ass. however, the last people you had expected to run into were two of your brother's best friends, two that you had a huge crush on at that. they were just going to take you home, but what if the alcohol gives you a little more courage than you had expected?
「genre」 : smut, brother's best friend(s) troupe, threesome
「warning」 : threesome, unprotected sex (big no-no), oral (m. & f. receiving), face sitting, biting/marking, dubcon(?), all three are slightly intoxicated, cussing, alcohol/drinking, teasing, dom!sunoo x sub!reader x dom!jungwon, praising, degradation, making out, cum eating, face fucking, riding, creampies, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, clit play, petnames (baby, princess, pretty, slut...), slight choking, begging, slight manhandling, implications of multiple rounds, lmk if I missed anything!
「notes」 : I got this idea from reading something a few days ago and knew I wanted to write it out, just didn't know which pair to use. after some consideration and asking friends I decided on pocketz. now, I can't tell you why I chose them exactly, just that it seemed fitting to me, and tbh, I've had bad sunwon brainrot since this past weekend... I also got a little carried away with the word count... n e who... I hope you enjoy this!
“I swear I’m never dating another man again,” you cried out as you downed your nth shot of soju. Dayeon and Wonyoung sat on the opposite side of the table, looking at you with a mixture of annoyed and concerned gazes.
“Is she seriously drunk already?” Dayeon sighed, downing a shot of soju herself. Wonyoung just shook her head, mumbling about how she knew going out would be a bad idea, especially when they knew you couldn’t hold your liquor very well.
“I can’t believe he took me on two dates and we even made out just to tell me that I wasn’t his type.” You exclaimed, tears brimming in your eyes. “TWO FUCKING DATES!” Your voice raised a few notches, causing both of the girls to jump, instantly trying to shush you. “How can someone be so heartless?”
“That was pretty mean of him to do.” Wonyoung agreed, swirling the small shot glass in her hand, while Dayeon nodded in agreement.
“Right!” You exclaimed once more, and Dayeon scolded you for being far too loud, but you just pouted, slumping down in your seat.
Dayeon then grabbed your bowl, which still sat empty in the middle of the table, as well as the ladle. “Hey, y/n. Eat some of this before you drink anymore.” She scooped some of the hotpot that sat in the center of the table. " You’ll end up hugging a toilet all night if you drink on an empty stomach.”
Tears poured out of your eyes. " Thank you, Dayeon…” You grabbed the bowl, staring down at the broth inside. You weren’t sure why the simple gesture that she had done so many times was making you so emotional. Maybe it was all of the events that had previously taken place. Or maybe it was just the alcohol that was in your system.
“Yeah, and don’t dwell on Junmin. He was a prick!” Wonyoung reassured you as she sat a glass of water in front of you, hoping to sober you up at least a little bit.
“BUT I LIKED HIM!” Your outburst drew the attention of those around you, “I LIKED HIM, THAT’S WHY I DIDN’T CARE THAT HE WAS A VIR-”
“SHUT THE HELL UP DUMBASS!” Dayeon reached across the table, grabbing your cheeks and muffling your shouts while Wonyoung looked around the bar with a nervous gaze.
All of your movements stopped, and your teary eyes looked up to meet Dayeon’s annoyed ones before flickering down to Wonyoung, who had slid off of her chair onto her knees in embarrassment. You didn’t have to look any further to know that you had caught the attention of those around you. The feeling of eyes on you was too heavy to ignore. You let your body slide down the chair in embarrassment as Dayeon’s hand fell from your face, eyes looking around.
“No one heard that, right?” You mumbled, too ashamed to look around yourself. Your face grew even warmer when you noticed the uneasy looks on both of your friends' faces, the heat making you feel lightheaded and dizzy. So you slumped forward, resting your forehead on the cool wooden table, arms hanging off at your sides.
“Jeez, you really have no filter when you drink.” Dayeon groaned, sitting back in her seat while Wonyoung followed suit, running her fingers through her hair. Deyeon then grabbed a napkin from the center of the table, wiping her hand of any tears, snot, and/or saliva that had gotten on her skin from when she grabbed you. You just mumbled incoherently into the surface of the table, completely missing the two figures that had walked up to the table.
“Uh, excuse me… hi?” Jungwon was the first to speak, Sunoo not too far behind him. His eyes were fixated on you, taken in your drunk form. Even from a mile away, he could recognize your unkempt hair because you refused to put it up before doing anything, claiming that it ‘hurt your scalp.’
“Yes?” Wonyoung and Dayeon both looked up at the two males, eyes looking them up and down. If they didn’t know any better, they would have thought they were going to ask you three to join them. Wonyoung’s eyes then shifted over to the table they had come from, seeing one dude passed out on the table while the other stayed unbothered on his phone, completely uninterested.
“Would you happen to” “Yeah, no thanks,” Wonyoung cut the boy off before he even had a chance to finish his sentence, catching both Jungwon and Sunoo off guard.
“Sorry?” Jungwon blinked a few times. Had they misunderstood him?
“We don’t want to join you, plus she’s drunk out of her mind.” Dayeon deadpanned, jabbing a finger in your direction. You were still in your own little world, telling the table stories that were far from comprehensible.
Jungwon’s eyes then widened in realization, his hands waving around frantically, assuring them that’s not what he wanted, “No, no, we were just wondering if you were Wonyoung and Dayeon? Y/n’s friends?” He asked, his finger hesitantly pointing in your direction.
Your ears stopped ringing just in time to hear your name roll off of Jungwon’s tongue, lifting your head at the familiar voice. A chill went down your spine when you met both of their eyes, suddenly feeling sober. Of course, you just had to run into your brother’s friends, not just any of his friends, though. The two that you have had a raging crush on for the majority of your childhood.
You felt heat rush up your neck as you flung yourself backward, regretting it instantly, “Fuck me in the ass! Of all the people to meet here, it just had to be you two.” White flashed across your vision making you groan, bringing a hand to cover your eyes.
Sunoo then walked over to your embarrassed form, making sure you weren’t going to fall out of your chair. Jungwon’s eyes followed the older of the two, but the feeling of eyes on him made him look back over, meeting Dayeon and Wonyoung’s confused looks.
“Oh! We’re friends of y/n’s brother…” Jungwon laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck.
“Really? Nice to meet you!” Wonyoung exclaimed while Dayeon bowed in greeting, “We didn’t realize that the two of you were y/n’s friends.”
You whined, mumbling how unlucky you had become, wishing that the ground would just swallow you whole. Sunoo reached over, placing his hand over your forehead, making you jump. His fingers were cold against your burning skin, but despite that fact, it only caused your face to heat up even more, your brain short-circuiting at the contact. Sunoo’s eyes moved from your figure, meeting Wonyoung and Dayeon’s.
“Why is she so drunk?” He asked, removing his hand from your face not missing the way your shoulders relaxed at the loss of contact. He had to fight the urge to roll his eyes; even in your drunken state, you wanted nothing to do with them.
Dayeon leaned forward, resting her head in the palm of her hand propped up on the table. " The guy she was seeing ditched her,” she said.
“Ah, so that’s what all that yelling about a virgin was…” Sunoo mused, and you lifted your head, looking up at him with wide eyes while the two other girls groaned. His eyes flickered down to you, a smirk playing on the corner of his lips.
“Man, Jay would get so pissed if he found out. He’d flip his shit and go after that guy.” Jungwon sighed, causing both Wonyoung and Dayeon to visibly stiffen, “and if he found out y/n got drunk, he’d raise absolute hell.” He sweatdropped, arms crossed over his chest, and Sunoo’s lip twitched in nervousness.
They both knew how overprotective Jay could be, especially over his little sister, and god forbid they did nothing. It would be safe to say that they wouldn’t live to see the light of another day.
During all of the small talk, your head lolled forward, and your face planted into the table once more. Dayeon had to stifle a laugh while Wonyoung was too busy panicking that Jay could find out that they had let you get drunk.
Sunoo pulled your chair out to help you up, but you didn’t budge, dragging your face along the surface of the table. However, before you could flop to the ground, he wrapped his arm around your chest, pulling you back. Jungwon then walked over to help the older male pick your body up off of the chair.
“Come on, y/n. Wake up. We’re going to take you home,” Jungwon grumbled as he tried to pull you to your feet.
Wonyoung rubbed her temples when you started having a hissy fit about going home, but you were quickly silenced when Sunoo mentioned your brother. A pout formed on your lips as you slumped onto Sunoo’s back, loosely wrapping your arms around his neck. The smell of his calonge instantly invaded your senses, making your head spin and your stomach churn.
“I feel like I'm going to be sick…” You mumbled quietly as you buried your face in Sunoo’s neck, which only strengthened the scent, but you couldn’t pull yourself away. Slowly getting high off of his scent, the slight citrusy smell was making your brain spiral.
“I swear to god you throw up on me; I will not hesitate to throw your ass.” Sunoo threatened, but his shoulders went stiff when he felt your nose brush against his neck. He became acutely aware of just how close the two of your bodies were at that moment. Your boobs pressed against his back, his hands wrapped securely under your plush thighs. He bit the inside of his cheek to try and keep a level head, but it was futile as he felt his dick twitch in his jeans.
Jungwon couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy seeing you so close to Sunoo. Though he told himself that it was just because you were drunk, that as soon as you were sober, you would yell at them for barging in on your night out.
Biting back a sigh, he turned towards the two girls who were watching them, “Well, we’ll be going now. I’ll leave a note reminding her to message when she wakes up.” Both of them nodded, waving softly.
They watched as the two men walked out of the bar with you before it finally dawned on them what just happened. Dayeon groaned, throwing her head back while Wonyoung scrambled to find her phone.
“Did we seriously just let two strangers walk out of here with y/n?” Wonyoung panicked as she quickly pulled up her socials, tapping on the search bar. Dayeon tilted her head slightly, looking over at the blonde who was sitting next to her. As calm as she may seem, she was freaking out on the inside because she knew they would both be dead meat if anything happened to you and Jay were to find out.
Not even five minutes later Wonyoung melted into her chair, placing her phone down on the table. “Thank god… they’re really his friends.”
About halfway back to your apartment, Jungwon had offered to take you and as much as Sunoo wanted to say that he was fine. He wasn’t. His will slowly break every time your fingers caress his chest, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Or the way your foot brushes against his crotch. He was starting to go insane.
So he let Jungwon take over, helping move you to the younger’s back. You protested at first but were quick to go silent again when your face fell into Jungwon’s neck. Your whole body tingled when his fingers grazed a little too close to your barely-covered core.
“You okay?” Jungwon asked when Sunoo’s breath hitched in his throat. The reason being that when he backed away from your body after making sure Jungwon had a good hold on you, he could clearly see your lace baby blue panties.
Sunoo quickly cleared his throat before reaching out and pulling your dress down. " Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s go.” With that, the two of them continued to walk down the dimly lit sidewalk. Thankfully, there weren’t very many people out and about, so they weren’t getting suspicious or weird stares.
You had woken up about ten minutes away from your apartment, your head was a bit clearer, but you were still surprised when you found yourself on Jungwon’s back. You nearly flew off of his back in surprise, causing Jungwon to stumble, but thankfully he was able to balance himself.
“Hey! Stop moving around, or I’ll drop you,” Jungwon exclaimed, his grip on your thighs getting tighter. A small squeak left your lips at the sensation, his fingertips grazing the inside of your thigh.
“Put me down! Where do you think you’re taking me?!” you exclaimed, arms flailing around. Even though your head still felt a little dizzy, you were sure that small nap had sobered you up. However, neither Sunoo nor Jungwon were dumb enough to put you down. You’d just run, and with their luck, you’d get hit by a car or something.
At first, the two ignored your whining and continued walking, but when you almost caused the three of you to fall backward down the stairs, Sunoo had enough.
“Y/n.” The tone in his voice sent a shiver down your spine and heat rushing to your core. You stopped struggling in Jungwon’s grip, causing the younger male to let out a sigh of relief. A small pout formed on your plump lips, and Sunoo had to damn near pinch himself to keep from kissing you until they were swollen.
“You guys are bullies,” you whined, shoveling your face into the crook of Jungwon’s neck. His scent, much like Sunoo’s, intoxicated you—so much so that you pressed your nose against the warm skin of his neck, inhaling deeply. “Wonnie, you smell so good.”
The poor boy could have sworn he felt his heart stop and heat rushed up his neck. His grip tightened even more on your legs as the three of you stood outside of your apartment. Sunoo noticed that Jungwon’s face was more flush before seeing you nuzzling into his neck.
“Dammit… isn’t Jay off on a trip somewhere?” Jungwon swallowed thickly, trying to ignore how you leaned more into him. He could smell your strawberry lotion mixed with the alcohol that you had drunk earlier.
“Fuck, yeah. Do you know the code?” Sunoo groaned, his eyes falling back on you. Meeting your eyes as you looked up at him from Jungwon’s neck. He could feel his dick twitch in the confines of his jeans when he saw how lust-blown-out your eyes had become. He wasn’t going to be able to keep his composure at this point. He needed to get you inside and in bed before anything happened.
“Oh uhh, I’m pretty sure it’s eight, two, thre- hey y/n stop that!” He warned when he felt your lips press against the skin right under his ear. His will was only holding on by a strand, and much like Sunoo, he wanted to get you inside before anything happened.
You weren’t even sure what had come over you, but you did know that Jungwon’s scent and his touch left you more drunk than any of the alcohol you had. You could blame the alcohol that was still in your system for your bold moves, but you were sober enough to know what you were doing. Both of your brother’s friends were taking you home, the very home where the three of you would be alone. You’d be a fool to not take advantage of it.
So, as soon as Sunoo managed to open the door and all three of you were inside, you straightened up a little bit. Thinking you were about to try and jump out of his arms, Jungwon opened his mouth to protest but was cut off when you ran your fingers through his hair far enough to get a good grip before pulling his head to the side so you could latch your lips to his neck. It all happened way too fast for Jungwon to stop it.
“Hey! Y/N, stop. We need to get you to bed.” His voice shook, catching Sunoo’s attention. As soon as he saw you, his eyes grew wide.
Jungwon’s face was cherry red, his eyebrows scrunched together due to your lips and the grip you had on his hair. His fingers were digging into your thigh, probably tight enough to leave bruises. He was scared to move, knowing he would fold the instant he tried to.
“Come on, her room is back here.” Sunoo coughed, covering his lower face trying to hide the blush that had taken over his cheeks.
However, before Jungwon could step further into the apartment, your voice cut him off. Your words sent his mind reeling.
“Won’t you fuck me, Wonnie?” Your voice was raspy from attacking his neck like a starved wolf, “I know you want to.” Your heel-clad foot brushed against his growing erection, causing him to hiss.
Hearing your words made Sunoo stop dead in his tracks, turning to face you and Jungwon. Sunoo’s gaze had turned dark, pupils blown wide. It scared Jungwon a bit, but the feeling of your lips on his skin once more and your foot pressing against his hard-on was making it hard to care.
“Won put her down.” Sunoo’s tone left little to no room for discussion, so Jungwon untangled your legs before setting you on your feet. You whined in protest, ready to latch yourself to Jungwon once more, but Sunoo was quicker. In a few quick strides, he was standing in front of your smaller frame, your chin nestled between his thumb and forefinger. His face is close enough to yours that you could feel his warm breath fanning your lips. “Are you really that much of a desperate slut that you’re willing to throw yourself at your brother's friends?”
His words made your breath hitch in your throat, but the name didn’t hurt your feelings. No, if anything, it left you dripping more in your panties. Your eyes searched his darker ones, trying to find the words to say. You wanted to make a lie and just say yes that you were willing to just throw yourself at them because you were so pent up, but in reality, you just wanted them. Both. If it was any of Jay’s other friends you wouldn’t have enough thought about doing what you did to Jungwon.
Not getting a response from you, Sunoo clicked his tongue before pulling your face closer to his. He watched in amusement as your eyes fluttered close as his lips ghosted over yours. You then mumbled something he didn’t quite catch.
“You’re gonna have to speak up, princess.” He grumbled against your lips, causing you to open your eyes. Your pupils were blown out to the point that hardly any of your iris was visible.
Your hand wrapped around his wrist, “If wanting the both of you makes me desperate,” Your eyes flickered over to Jungwon, who was standing no more than two feet away, “Then I am very desperate.”
“Sunoo… we shouldn’t be doing this; none of us are sober.” Jungwon panicked because as much as he wanted to sink his dick so deep into your cunt he knew it was wrong for multiple reasons.
In a matter of minutes, Sunoo had your back pressed against the cushions of the couch, his lips attached to your neck. Biting and sucking before dragging his tongue along the wounded area, the feeling making you squirm.
“I’m completely sober, Won, have-” A squeak cut you off as Sunoo’s hand squeezed your thigh roughly, “I have been since I woke up earlier.” Your head then fell back when Sunoo ground his hips against yours, pressing his hardened erection against your clothed cunt.
Jungwon stood there fidgeting, conflicted about what to do. On one hand, you did say you were sober, but on the other hand, you were his friend's sister. However, when Sunoo pulled away from your neck to look back at him, he could have sworn his soul had left his body.
“You either join us, or you can leave; the choice is yours, Jungwon.” Sunoo’s voice was deep and husky, making your head spin and your pussy clench around nothing.
Jungwon then threw all caution to the wind. When would he get the chance to do this again, especially with the girl he had been crushing on for the past three years? He made quick work of his jacket, pulling it off his body and throwing it somewhere in the room.
Sunoo smirked before facing you once more, “See that princess, Wonnie is gonna join us.” His fingers that had been resting on your thigh trailed up until he brushed against your clothed pussy. A whine fell from your lips, and your hips bucked up into his touch, causing him to chuckle. “God, you’re so cute but so fucking sexy at the same time.” He bit down on the junction of your neck as his fingers pressed against your pussy. “And you’re so fucking wet, you’re soaking your underwear.”
You let out a choked whine, covering your face, but Sunoo was quick to grab your wrists, pinning them next to your head. Tears brimmed your waterline, and Sunoo could have sworn he could cum at the sight alone. His eyes then trailed up to the awkward male who was just standing there.
“Here’s what’s gonna happen, princess; you’re going to suck Won off while I devour this pretty cunt of yours.” He smirked, leaning down to your face, ghosting his lips over yours once more, “You’ll do that for us, won’t you?” You were quick to nod, but Sunoo just hummed, “I want words, princess.”
“Yes, please.” The tears in your eyes built up more due to how pent up you felt, you just wanted them to touch you, do something. Anything. So you shifted your eyes from Sunoo’s to Jungwon’s, who had pulled off his shirt, leaving you a good view of his toned torso. “I wanna suck Wonnie’s cock while you eat me out, please, Sun-” Before you could even finish your sentence, Sunoo had his lips on yours.
The kiss was full of hunger and need, but the force was almost bruising, leaving you breathless when he pulled you to sit up. His hands make quick work of your dress and bra, throwing them off to an unknown location in the living room. Then his lips were back on your, his fingers tangling in your hair, pulling your head back to deepen the kiss. His eyes then looked over at the younger male. It didn’t take a genius for Jungwon to figure out what he was saying, so he quickly shed the rest of his clothes before finding his spot at the end of the couch, right behind you.
Sunoo pulled away from your lips, a string of saliva connecting the two of you until it snapped, and your eyes fluttered open. His hands smoothed down your sides before scooting back a little bit.
“Turn around for me, princess.” His voice was soft, but the look in his eyes made you follow his command as quickly as you could. Turning around onto your hands and knees, facing Jungwon. His eyes were clouded with lust as he took in the sight in front of him; your tits hung underneath you as your ass was pushed up, giving Sunoo the perfect view of your pantie-clad pussy.
Sunoo’s fingers traced up your spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, before pressing down right between your shoulder blades. A small whine fell from your lips as you moved closer to Jungwon. His eyes stayed focused on you as you came face-to-face with his dripping cock. Beads of precum decorating the tip. Situating yourself, you arched your back a little more before taking his hard dick into your small hand.
A groan tore through Jungwon’s throat as you started to rub up and down his shaft. His precum was more than enough lubricant to make your movements easy. Sunoo watched in amusement as Jungwon’s head fell back, one hand gripping the back of the couch while the other covered his mouth. Taking his attention off of the younger boy Sunoo moves his hands down to your hips, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your underwear.
The soft whines that were slipping through Jungwon’s fingers sent shivers throughout your body, your pussy clenching around nothing. It made your head fuzzy, and you wanted to hear more. Leaning forward, you give his tip a few kitten licks, making his body shutter, his hips bucking up in your hold.
“Don’t be so scared to touch her, Won; she obviously wants it. Look how wet she is.” A whine escaped your parted lips when Sunoo’s cool fingers grazed along your slit, gathering your slick before pulling back to show Jungwon. The younger male's eyes went wide at the light reflecting off of Sunoo’s glistening digits.
“Shit…” Jungwon cursed under his breath when you finally took him in your mouth, moving his hands to gather your hair into a makeshift ponytail. His mind went whirling when he made eye contact with you, his breath hitching, seeing the lust in your eyes. When you took him completely in your mouth, he could have sworn he would bust right then and there. However, when you moaned around him, sending vibrations reverberating throughout his entire body, his hips bucked, causing you to gag. God, it was the best feeling he had ever experienced.
Sunoo moved down until he was face-to-face with your cunt, blowing on your glistening hole. You whined against Jungwon once more, causing the boy to groan, tears pricking at the edges of your eyes.
“Fuck, baby, can I fuck your mouth, please?” Jungwon asked, hips bucking once more, making you gag. You looked up at him with a gaze that clearly said yes, but he wanted to hear you say it. So he pulled you off of his dick with an audible ‘pop,’ caressing your cheek softly, “I wanna hear you say it pretty.”
You leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering for a moment before you moved to capture his lips with yours. He was surprised at first but was quick to recuperate the kiss, leaning into you to deepen it before pulling away. You pressed a small kiss against his lips again before moving down to his dick once more, rubbing languidly.
“Please use me however you’d like, Wonnie.” Your voice was raspy but full of lust. You then took him back into your mouth. Jungwon damn near lost his mind when you took him in your mouth all at once.
Sunoo’s hands found their way back to your thighs just as Jungwon started to buck his hips up into your mouth, holding your head in place. He didn’t give you any kind of warning before diving in, mouth latched onto your soaping pussy, making your body twitch as you moaned around Jungwon.
“Fuck!” The younger man moaned out, his movements picking up as you tried your best to focus on your breathing. However, the assault from both ends of your body was enough to leave you breathless.
“Did you forget about me already, princess?” Sunoo chuckled against your cunt, making you moan again, but was quickly choked up by Jungwon’s cock.
Your eyes rolled back when Sunoo sucked harshly on your clit, the pleasure making you go insane. Your grip on Jungwon’s thighs tightened when Sunoo’s tongue prodded at your entrance before he pushed in, letting your juices fill his mouth.
Jungwon wasn’t going to last much longer, and even through your fogged brain, you could tell. So you pressed your tongue against the underside of his cock while using a hand to fondle his balls.
“Holy shit…” He groaned out as his dick twitched in your mouth before painting your throat white. After a few more thrusts, he pulled out of your mouth, allowing you to swallow his load, which only turned the poor boy on even more.
Your head then fell forward when moved to your clit once more. However, Sunoo was growing more and more needy. He needed more, and this wasn't enough. Pulling away, he turned around, where he was lying on his back underneath your dripping cunt. You went to whine in protest, but he harshly tugged on your thighs, making you sit on his face.
“Sun- fuck!” You moaned out when his lips latched onto your clit once more; shocks flared throughout your body as he continued to eat you out like a starved man. You lifted your upper body, hand gripping the back of the couch like a vice to try and keep your balance. You were so close, and Sunoo could tell how your thighs were starting to shake.
Jungwon watched the scene in front of him like it was his favorite porn, his hand pumping his sensitive cock. He just couldn’t seem to get enough of the faces that you were making, and it turned him on so fucking much.
Sunoo’s grip on your hip got tighter, and he pulled you further down onto his face; you tried to resist, scared that you would hurt him. He wasn’t having any of it, using his strength to pull your pussy flush with his face listening to the pretty sounds that fell from your swollen lips.
“I’m- fuck, I’m so close.” You whined as your grip tightened on the couch, hips rutting against his face chasing your high. Sparks dance across your vision when your high comes crashing down, your body trembling in Sunoo’s hold. Small cries fell from your lips as Sunoo continued to lap at your twitching cunt, prolonging your orgasm until he was satisfied. When he pulled away, Jungwon reached out for you and you took his hands without a second thought.
All of the awkwardness had fled from Jungwon’s body at this point; now, he wanted nothing more than to completely ruin you. A smirk pulled on his lips when you perched yourself on his lap, his hands finding your hips. You leaned forward, latching your lips onto his once more; he pulled your hips down enough to have his rock-hard cock slip between your folds. A whine tore through your lips but was swallowed by Jungwon’s mouth.
“Fuck I can’t wait much longer,” Jungwon groaned against your lips before biting down on your bottom lip, “will you ride my cock, pretty?” He asked, moving your hair from your neck so he could place soft kisses along your jugular.
“Please.” You sighed, your hand moving between your bodies, growing impatient. Jungwon chuckled before leaning back to watch as you lifted your hips so you could line his tip with your entrance. The stretch was something you’d never experienced before; he was definitely bigger than any of the other guys you had ever been with before. Jungwon noticed your struggle and rubbed soothing circles on your hips, telling you to take it easy, but you shook your head. No, you were far too desperate to feel him buried in your cunt to wait any longer. So you took a deep breath and tried to relax as much as possible before sinking fully down onto his girth.
“Such a desperate little slut aren’t you?” Sunoo teased you as he moved from the couch to stand behind you. His hands move down to grope your boobs, squeezing hard enough to elicit a whimper from your pretty lips. “Go on, ride him.”
You didn’t have to be told twice, slowly rocking your hips on Jungwon. The younger let out a throaty groan, his grip on your hips tightening. You were clenching around his dick so tight it was driving him insane.
Sunoo leaned down, moving your hair to the side, placing kisses along the skin of your shoulder and up your neck. Your body leaned back into his chest, basking in the feeling of both of their hands on you. The angle you were sitting in only drove Jungwon’s cock so much deeper into you, hitting all the right places.
“Fuck fuck fuck,” The word left Jungwon’s lips like a mantra as he rutted his hips up into yours. “Shit, I’m sorry, y/n.” Before you could even open your mouth to ask what he meant, he planted his feet behind you before stilling your hips above his and thrusting up into your cunt harshly.
“Jun-” Your breath caught in your throat as he continued to thrust up into you without any remorse. Sunoo grabbed your chin softly, tilting your head back to connect his lips with yours in an upside-down kiss. He swallowed all of your pants and moans with a smirk; he ran his hand down to your core, pressing his middle finger to your clit.
Jungwon could feel you tighten around him like a vice when Sunoo wrapped his other hand around your throat. Your eyes then trailed down to meet his, eyes completely blown out in lust. He felt his dick twitch when your eyes rolled back as Sunoo sped up his fingers on your clit, mouth gaping open. You were close, and both of them could tell.
“Go ahead, princess, make a mess all over Wonnies cock.” Sunoo cooed in your ear, his movements not slowing.
Your grip on Jungwon’s forearms tightened, nails digging into his skin, sure to leave marks in the morning. Sunoo’s hand around your neck tightened, making you feel lightheaded as you came all over Jungwon’s lap. Your eyes stayed connected to Jungwon’s as he continued to rut his hips into yours, oversensitivity creeping into your body and making your whines louder.
“Wonnie.” You whined out, back arching, causing him to push even deeper into you. Stars started to dance across your vision as Sunoo released your throat to plant hot and wet kisses along your jugular. His fingers never left your spasming cunt, working in tandem with Jungwon’s thrust.
“I’m almost- fuck, I’m almost there, pretty.” He let out a choked groan when you tightened around him, “Just a little bit longer. Can you do that, baby?” You nodded your head like a broken bobblehead.
Sunoo chuckled as he released your clit from his touch as soon as your body tensed, causing you to whine. He then bit down on the junction of your neck as Jungwon’s hips shuddered because of how tight your pussy was clenching around him.
“Fuck.” Jungwon moaned out, head falling back as his grip tightened and his thrust because sloppy, “I’m cumming, shit, I’m cumming.” He pulled your hips flush against him as he released his load deep into your womb.
“God, that was hot as fuck.” Sunoo groaned as he let you lay against Jungwon, face buried in his neck. He then pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it off somewhere in the room to join yours and Jungwon’s.
“Fuck, you did so good, baby.” Jungwon cooed as he pressed a soft kiss against your temple, hands smoothing over your hips and thighs, squeezing the soft plush.
After stripping, Sunoo walked back over to the two of you, rubbing your shoulders, “Think you can handle another one, princess?” His finger kneading into your sore muscles made you feel light as a moan escaped your lips. “Hmm?”
You removed your face from Jungwon’s neck, leaning back in Sunoo’s hands. “I can, Sun; please fuck me.” Your whiny voice left his dick twitching, wanting nothing more than to bury himself in your cunt beside Jungwon’s, but you weren't ready for that yet. Instead, he sat on the opposite side of the couch, smirking at you while your eyes watched him.
“Come here, princess.” He motioned for you, and you reluctantly lifted yourself off of Jungwon, making the two of you whine out in sensitivity.
Crawling into Sunoo’s lap, you were quick to grab his hard dick, trying to line it up with your entrance. However, Sunoo clicked his tongue, moving your hand away and you looked up at him confused.
“You’re so impatient, but don’t worry…” A squeak left your mouth when he grabbed your thighs, quickly lying you down on your back, hovering over you, “I can’t wait any longer either.”
He threw your legs over his shoulders before pushing into you swiftly. Your jaw fell slack, head falling back as the sudden intrusion. He wasn't much wider than Jungwon, but god, was he longer, his tip kissing your cervix.
“Fuck you’re still so tight.” He groaned, giving you a split second to adjust. You reached up, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him towards you. He practically folded your body in half as he kissed you deeply, rutting his hips slowly until you gave him the green light.
As soon as you gave him the green light, he started to piston his hips into yours. Broken moans of his name fell from your tongue, tears spilling from your eyes. Every time he would hit your cervix, you swore you saw colors dancing in your vision.
“Fu- fuck Sunoo!” You cried out, nails digging into his shoulders at overwhelming pleasure.
“Holy shit, I can’t believe I waited this long to fuck you.” Sunoo groaned, burying his face in your chest, nipping at the skin around your collarbones. Your brain was far too fogged to comprehend what he had just said; the only thought in your fucked out brain was how good it felt to finally have him buried in your cunt.
Sunoo wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol that lingered in his system or if it was because he was so hard for so long, but he was already close to cumming. However, he wasn't about to cum before you; no, he needed to feel you cum around him. Pulling back, he grabbed your legs right behind your knees, thrusting faster into your abused pussy.
“Come on, baby, cum around my cock.” He cooed, biting back a groan when he saw Jungwon’s head thrown back as he rubbed his cock with sloppy and fast movements. Chuckling, he dropped one of your legs to grab your chin, forcing you to look back at the younger male, “Look how hard you got him, princess; he’s gonna cum again just by watching me fuck you.”
Your eyes met Jungwon’s, his hooded gaze making your body tingle and pussy clench. Sunoo watched with dark eyes, keeping his orgasm at bay until he got you to cum once more. Letting go of your face, he trailed his hand down your body to your heat, pressing sharply on your swollen clit.
“Fuck fuck fuck,” You chanted, eyes squeezing shut as your whole body started to shake. Your impending orgasm creeps up even faster, “Sunoo! I’m gonna cum.” You whined, back arching off of the couch. Sunoo hissed as you squeezed tightly around his cock before your walls started to flutter around him, silent screams falling from your lips.
“Shit, that was hot,” He groaned, moving his hand from your bundle of nerves. Grabbing your leg once more, thrusting into you in deep, hard movements. His eyes studied your fucked out expression wanting nothing more than to burn it into his brain, unsure if he’d get to see it again.
“Fuck I’m gonna cum again,” Jungwon whined, his thumb pressing against his tip. Sunoo’s eyes flickered up to him, a smirk adorning his lips.
“Then cum Won, cum all over our needy slut.” His words made your mind reel, unfocused eyes meeting Jungwon’s as your head fell back. Your heated gaze was enough to push him over the edge, cumming all over your chest and abdomen with a string of curses leaving his lips.
Sunoo’s hips shuddered, his high right on the tip of his tongue. Looking down, his eyes caught sight of the white ring that wrapped around the base of his cock. The sight flipped something in him, his pacing picking up once more, making you cry out in sensitivity.
“I’m gonna cum,” Sunoo groaned when you squeezed around him again, “gonna cum in this needy little pussy of yours, fill you up so full.” He growled, pushing his cock deep into your cunt, “so full you’ll be dripping for days.”
You gathered some of Jungwon’s cum onto your thumb before placing the digit in your mouth, eyes locked with Sunoo’s. The sight caused both of the males to groan, Sunoo’s hip shuddering.
“Then do it.” Your voice was hoarse as you pulled your thumb from your mouth with a ‘pop’.
That’s all it took for Sunoo to bust, groaning as he painted your gummy walls white. His hips fucking his and Jungwon’s cum into you until slowing to a stop. He let your legs down gently before pressing soft kisses to your face, letting your racing heart calm.
The three of you sat in comfortable silence, catching your breaths before Jungwon spoke up.
“Jay is going to kill us.” He panicked a little, causing both you and Sunoo to burst out laughing. Jungwon looked at the two of you with wide eyes before slowly melting and joining in.
You ran your fingers through Sunoo’s hair as his face was buried in the crook of your neck, your body sticky with sweat and cum. Suddenly acutely aware of this fact, you cringed, “We need to shower.”
The two males burst out laughing again before agreeing and helping you to the bathroom so you could shower. Maybe get another round or two in before the three of you piled into your queen bed, passing out.
“What the fuck?!” The sound of your brother’s shouts woke you dead out of your sleep, sitting up in bed quickly. Sunoo was right behind you, shaking his head out while Jungwon remained lying down, awake.
“Was that Jay?” You asked, looking over at Sunoo with wide eyes.
Sunoo opened his mouth to say that you had probably just heard things and that your brother wasn’t supposed to be back until that night. However, the sound of heavy footsteps shut him right up.
Jungwon shot up in the bed, eyes meeting yours and Sunoo’s panicked ones.
“We forgot to clean up the living room,” Jungwon whined, rubbing his face and flopping back down on the bed, accepting his fate.
Oh, you guys were definitely screwed.
@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work
𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.
𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 : @heesitation @riftanswhore @yeonzzzn @yzzyhee @skzenhalove @seuomo @moonchus @enha-stars @ikeuverse @prized-jules @ro-diaries @yeonjunsfox @luvyong2z @snoopypupp
#alvojake writes ^^#kim sunoo#yang jungwon#sunoo#jungwon#sunoo enhypen#jungwon enhypen#sunoo enha#jungwon enha#kim sunoo enhypen#yang jungwon enhypen#kim sunoo enha#yang jungwon enha#sunoo x reader#jungwon x reader#reader x sunoo#reader x jungwon#kim sunoo smut#yang jungwon smut#sunoo smut#jungwon smut#enhypen sunoo#enhypen jungwon#enhypen kim sunoo#enhypen yang jungwon#enhypen#enha#enhypen x reader#reader x enhypen#enha x reader
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pairs love - DREW STARKEY
authors not since drew is in pairs at the fashion shows i thought why not write something cute and adorable. like can we talk about how freaking good he looked walking around ugh. the poll is officially over and the rafe series won! ima start working on the master list and have it up.
summary you come out to visit your boyfriend in pairs during fashion week.
warnings kissing in front of the Eiffel Tower
Drew was invited to two fashion shows in Paris: menswear for Prada and Loewe menswear. He left three days ago, while you stayed at home to put the finishing touches on your flower garden.
You couldn't be more proud of your boyfriend with all the success he's gained over the past couple years. He truly deserves this. Getting the recognition he deserves.
Last night, you landed in Pairs, drained from hours on the plane and eager to shower and sleep on a bed. It felt good seeing Drew and being in his arms. Although it was three days without each other, you always miss his presence.
Drew had the day off, so he planned to take you out to dinner, walk around, shopping, and visit the Eiffel Tower. He advised you to get enough rest early so you have enough rest to explore the Pairs at night.
During dinner, Drew spoke about what the shows were like and meeting celebs he's seen in movies or other people for the first time. It was really cool hearing what he had to say.
You were quite excited to visit the Eiffel Tower. You've always wanted to see it in person someday. Your inner child was jumping up and down inside.
"That restaurant was so delicious; I can see why you enjoy it so much," you tell Drew, tucking your hands into your coat to keep them warm from the cold.
"I'm glad to hear that you liked it baby," He smiles, tilts his head to the side, and blushes.
You chuckle as you playfully nudge his arm. He pretends to fall on his side, with a dramatic expression on his face.
"You are such a dork," you laugh.
"Your favorite dork, dork," he responds in a playful tone, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you continue walking down the sidewalk.
Drew and you went inside a few stores that caught your eye; you might've bought a few things. Drew watched you in awe as you showed him different clothing throughout the store.
"What do you think about this one?" You inquired Drew, holding two clothes that piqued your interest.
Drew hurriedly glances aside from the apparel rack he was browsing. His brows furrow as he casts a stern stare with his pointer finger on his chin.
"I think both will look great on you, but I'd go with this one because it draws your eyes out," he says casually, sweeping his arm toward the shirt you first showed him.
"You are too sweet, you know that" you reply as you turn around, putting back the other clothing item.
He loves seeing you happy. He knew how much you've always wanted to visit Pairs and thought this was the best time to go.
"Thank you for the stuff, baby," you grin, gripping his hand and lifting the bag with your other hand.
When you went out of the last store, you heard people heading in your direction, fans. They walked forward with grins on their faces, carrying items for him to sign and their phones for photos.
When one fan spotted you were with him, she screamed your name out in delight, and the rest followed after. You put your free hand over your heart with a pout before beaming at the little fans.
We love you Drew
This is the best day of my life
I can't believe he's in front of me
He's so beautiful in person
Drew started taking pictures with the fans; giving them hugs, making videos for fans that couldn't make it, signed a few things, and had conversations.
Fans also came up to as well. They were all so sweet and caring. One fan came up to you with tears forming in her eyes, you opened your arms to welcome her.
You are so sweet, Y/N
You are so gorgeous
Can't believe you are here too
I love your relationship with Drew
When word spread that Drew was in a relationship, all of the fans went crazy, searching for who this mystery girl was. You were apprehensive about how the fans might react.
You eventually posted a TikTok video with your best friend, Madelyn Cline, and Drew happened to be in the background; people then connected the dots. In the end, they loved and admired you.
Being in a relationship with someone in the public spotlight offers advantages and disadvantages, but you wouldn't alter it for anything, especially if you love them.
"Don't cry now love," you tell her softly, "what's your name?" She tells you her name and goes on to explain how much she loves you and your content you post.
"That's so sweet of you, thank you."
You spent ten minutes with the girls until it was ready to go look at the Eiffel Tower.
The Eiffel Tower was everything you've dreamed of. Seeing it in person was one of the best feelings in the world. So many emotions were going through your body.
You got out your phone to capture some photos and videos to share later tomorrow. Drew snapped a photo of you with his digital camera, capturing the tower, and he couldn't help but smile.
He carefully put his arms around your waist, drawing you into his front, chin on top of your head, rocking you side to side slowly and silently while savoring the moment.
"This has been one of the greatest days of my entire life. Being here with you in your arms in Pairs. I just want to say thank your for bringing me out here and experiencing this."
You feel your body relax in his touch, allowing a sigh to escape your lips, your head to strike his chest, and giving him the opportunity to kiss you.
You two don't give a damn whether anyone witnesses you kissing at this point. Right now, just the two of you matter because you are in love. And you are in Pairs.
"I had to bring you out here with me, of course, sweetheart. You keep me warm, too, and I love holding you in my arms. However, when you consider it, this is our first trip to Europe as a couple” he says.
You move your body around so that your chests are against one another. In return, you up on your small toes and wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him all over his face.
I love you.
I love you more.
my taglist!
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@runningfrom2am @winterrrnight @chenslucy @brooklynscherry-z @johannelis2302nely @rosezza @kaydr3venge
#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey imagines#drew starkey fanfic#drew starkey blurb#drew starkey fluff#drew starkey x female reader#drew starkey x y/n#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagines#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x y/n#drew starkey/rafe cameron 🍒
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Returning Home
Azriel x Fem!reader (or GN reader)
Summary: Azriel comes back from a long and slightly traumatic mission bloodied and filthy, so you give him a bath.
Warnings: fluff, blood, nudity but its not sexual, Az and reader are mated, reader caring for Azriel, not proofread,
Word Count: 2.6k (I’m sorry)
A/N: Whatisupyouguys I’m back with another disgustingly sweet fluffy Azriel fic for you. I’m a slut for caring for this poor man, so that is what you will receive. School has been kicking my ass but I was able to pop this sucker out and am working on more Az fics, some of them spicy, even. Also, if you have any ideas for fics and you’d like to share, I’m all ears. I am pretty busy with school but summer is approaching and I plan on writing a ton. Even though this is fluff, minors please gtfo. Enjoy!
You were awoken from your slumber when you heard the back door slam. It was one AM. Why was your door slamming at one AM? That is what you asked yourself, and you could not come up with a good reason. So, you silently slipped from the warm caress of your blankets into the chilled air of your bedroom, pulling on your robe and grabbing the bat Azriel liked to keep next to your bedside table as you tiptoed out of your room.
You made your way down the hallway towards the source of the noise, the bat held high above your shoulder. You didn't think the intruder was dangerous, but it's better to be safe than sorry. As you silently made your way towards the original source of noise, you heard off to your left a shuffling of feet. You pivoted, slinking your way now towards the kitchen.
You drew the bat back, gearing up to swing, and hurtled yourself through the kitchen. But you came to a screeching halt when you saw your mate, Azriel, leaning over the kitchen counter, still as a statue, not even looking up to acknowledge your presence. He was covered in blood and grime, his leathers were muddied and damp, his shadows frantically swirling around him.
He had been on a mission, this you had known. He had told you this one might take a while. He had told you that two weeks ago. You had not expected him here, back home, at this hour, covered in gods knew what. It took you by surprise, his presence, but also the state he was in. He looked half dead, drained and pale and haggard. You dropped the bat.
The noise caught his attention. He raised his head, although it looked like it took effort, and locked eyes with you. Those hazel depths you loved so much now looked dull and dark. You moved towards him, your bare feet clicking on the polished wood beneath.
“Az?” you asked quietly, not wanting to startle him further. He pushed up from the counter, standing, but not to his full height. He was slouching in on himself, his wings almost dragging on the ground. He looked so tired.
You caressed his cheek in your hand, wanting to feel him. His shadows embraced you, but remained frantically swirling. You had missed him so much, it had almost torn you in two. And now he was here, in front of you, back to where he should be. But somehow it felt as though you had only gotten his body back, his mind still somewhere else. You tugged on the bond, hoping to get a reaction, recognition, something out of him. A small pull on the shadowy thread connecting you two was all you received.
“You’re home,” you breathed, “I’m so glad you’re home.” Both of your hands were now caressing his face, which was prickly from weeks of not shaving. He was staring back at you, but his eyes were vacant, barely any recognition that you were standing in front of him. It made your chest ache. You distracted yourself by looking over him, checking for injuries or any signs of distress. You found none, but you would have to get his leathers off to be completely sure.
“Azriel,” you grabbed his face and locked eyes with him, “You need a bath, okay? I’m going to give you one. Nod your head if you understand.” It was almost imperceptible, his nod, but you felt it, and that was enough. You took his hand in yours and led him towards the bathing chamber, which was just off to the left of your shared bedroom.
You stripped off your robe and hung it on the door, then turned to the massive tub and turned the water on. While you waited for it to fill, you turned your attention back to your mate. “I’m going to take your leathers off, okay?” He nodded, and it was visible this time. You took that as a good sign.
You began with his top, unbuckling and unbuttoning until his chest was bare. You looked over him once again, checking for injuries. You noticed some slight bruising on his ribs and a healing slash on his right bicep, but nothing extreme. You weren’t happy about him being injured, but he would live, which meant so would you. His wings didn’t look injured much, either, but they were covered in mud and splattered with blood. Gods, what had happened to him?
You checked on the state of the tub, adjusting the temperature and adding some rose oil into the water. The water level was almost to where you wanted it to be. Once again you turned your attention towards Azriel, this time to his bottom half. You pulled at the laces of his pants, loosening them enough to slide them down his legs. He lifted his legs, one at a time, so you could pull the material off. You also took this as a good sign.
You didn’t know what had happened on his mission to make him borderline catatonic, but you would do everything in your power to help get him back to his usual self. His shadows had calmed down a bit, now swirling slowly around the both of you, the frenzied movements gone. You looked towards the tub, the water at the perfect level, so you turned the faucet off. You tugged your nightgown over your head, then slid your panties off, joining Azriel in his nakedness.
You pulled him towards the tub, urging him to climb in. He did as instructed, sliding down into the water and pulling his knees up to his chest. You climbed in after him, sinking down into the steamy water so that you were kneeling in front of him. You grabbed the spong and lathered soap onto it, then got to work.
You grabbed one of his arms, pulling it out towards you, and started scrubbing the grime off his tattooed skin. “I made blueberry muffins while you were away,” you informed him, trying to distract him from whatever he was thinking about and pull him back to you. “I know they’re your favorite, but don’t get too excited. I ate them all. But I’ll make more tomorrow, okay?” his eyes were on your hands, where you were scrubbing his arm, but he nodded in recognition.
You moved on to his other arm, repeating the ministrations you had just done. Wanting to distract him further, you said: “Last week I went to Rita’s with Mor, Cassian, Nesta, and Feyre, and Cass got so drunk that by the end of the night he was telling Nesta he was mated and couldn’t go home with her. She hasn’t let him live it down since.” You smirked at the memory. Azriel looked slightly more relaxed, the corner of his lips almost lifted. Almost.
His arms were clean, so you moved on to his legs. They were less dirty compared to his arms, having been soaking for a while longer, but still needed scrubbing. You picked his left leg up by the ankle, raising and extending it so that it was just below the water, and began scrubbing. You wracked your brain for more stories to tell him, but you could not come up with any. So you stayed quiet.
Azriel so rarely let you take care of him. He always focused on you and your needs. And although the circumstances were not the best, you enjoyed being able to care for your mate in this way. You just prayed to the Mother your care would be enough to bring him out of the headspace he was in.
You finished cleaning his legs, which left his torso, back, and wings to scrub. Wanting to save his wings for last, you opted for his torso first. Azriel had pulled his knees back up to his chest, but you needed them down in order to properly wash him. So you grabbed his legs again, laying them flat, and when he resisted, you spoke down the bond, “I need your legs flat so I can clean your chest, okay?” He stopped resisting, letting you do what you needed to do. You lathered more soap onto the sponge, then scooched closer to him. You could feel his eyes on your face, and with it could feel him coming back to himself. You almost sighed in relief.
Bringing the sponge to his neck, you started scrubbing in small circles over his skin. You brought your free hand to his shoulder to lean him back, putting him at a better angle for you to see where you needed to scrub a little harder. Azriel brought his hands up to your hips, not grabbing them, just placing them on you. The action startled you slightly, just because you weren't expecting it. But once the shock went away, you leaned into his touch, the action as grounding for him as it was for you, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.
You continued your ministries on his chest, slowly but surely making progress. When you were halfway down his torso you felt an immense wave of gratitude and love pouring down the bond at you. You couldn’t help but smile, pouring your own love and reassurance down the bond towards him. Finally all that was left was his back and wings. The bathwater was still warm, but you could feel it cooling down. And you wanted to get Azriel clean before the water got cold.
You put the sponge down and laid your hands on top of where he rested his on your hips. “Your wings need washing, they’re covered in quite a bit of blood and dirt. Do you want to clean them, or do you want me to?” you asked gently. He looked up at you, hazel eyes clashing with yours.
“Could you…” his voice was thick, and hoarse, so he cleared it. “Could you do it?” he asked quietly.
“Of course, my love.” you replied, rubbing your hands over his in reassurance. He turned around, giving his back to you, and once again brought his knees up to his chest. You tried not to think about it too hard, the fact that Azriel, the gods damned Shadowsinger of the Night Court, an Illarian fucking warrior, was drawing his knees to his chest, slouching in on himself, making himself smaller due to the memories wreaking havoc in his mind. You wanted to know what happened, shoulder some of the burden for him, sooth his mind from these memories. But it was unlikely he would tell you anything tonight.
You picked the sponge back up, added more soap to it, and began scrubbing his back. You started on his upper back, gliding the sponge over his tattooed skin. Running the sponge down between his wings drew out a long sigh from Azriel. Wanting to save his wings for last, you then focused on his lower back, gliding your free hand along with the sponge, wanting to make sure you were getting all the grime off him as well as comfort him with your touch.
Finally, all that was left were his wings. You started at the base of them, working your way up and over the dark, scarred membranes. Azriel extended each one while you worked, following your movements and positioning them so that you didn’t have to. You glided the sponge firmly along the patagium of each wing, working quickly to clean the grime off. You had learned over the years that this was the best and most efficient way. There was no way to avoid the sensitivity of the wings and what they elicited, but working swiftly, as well as using something other than your hand, seemed to ease some of the tension that would inevitably build up when it came to touching wings.
You looked over his back and wings one more time, checking for spots you might have missed, but found none. So, you put the sponge down and turned your attention to the person, rather than the body, in front of you. You placed your hands on his shoulders and scooched closer to him, so that your front was pressed up against his back. And then you slid your arms around his front, embracing him from behind.
You stayed like that until the water went cold, the only sounds filling the room were your synchronized breathing. Azriel broke the silence first. “Thank you,” he whispered, “for taking care of me. I don’t deserve you.” You tightened your embrace in response.
“I’m going to go get the bed warmed while you dry off, alright?” you said over his shoulder. He nodded, and adamant nod, a nod you knew was going to be the last nod you received before he picked back up answering with words.
You unwrapped yourself from your mate and climbed out of the tub, grabbing a towel on your way back into your room. You quickly wrapped the towel around you then got to work warming the bed. You also lit the fireplace, both for added warmth but also in hopes it would help Az sleep better. And just as you were getting done adding enough wood to the fire to last the night, Az walked out of the bathing room, a towel wrapped around his waist.
Besides looking clean, he looked much more himself now. His shadows had traveled out to the corners of the room, seeking darkness away from the fireplace. You hoped they didn’t mind much. You got up from your place before the fire and walked towards him. He embraced you this time, pulling his strong arms around your body, holding you to him.
“I love you so much it hurts sometimes,” he said, barely above a whisper, “I’ll tell you about it tomorrow, but I’d like to cuddle with my mate now, if that's okay.” It was your turn to nod. You pulled away slightly, looking up into his eyes. You could live with him telling you what had happened tomorrow. And for now, you kissed him, gentle and slow, pouring as much comfort and love as you could down the bond. And he kissed you back like he was a dying man and your kiss was his lifeline. You supposed, in a way, it was.
You broke the kiss, shed each other of your towels, and tumbled into bed, holding one another like death was the alternative.
“Thank you,” Azriel whispered to you.
“You’re welcome, my love,” you replied. And you fell asleep, tangled together in an embrace.
#acotar#acotar fic#azriel fanfiction#azriel fluff#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x reader#fanfiction#comfort#night court#velaris#fem reader
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WHERE'S MUMMY? PT.2
My first part has received an amazing amount of response, hence I decided that I would come out with a part two, and who knows? Maybe this could be another mini series for the boys? :)))) Regardless, enjoy the read!
Warnings: Comfort and Fluff, Slight Angst for some parts. Mentions of smexy times for one, suggestive for another. ANONS ARE POOPY SOMETIMES BUT THAT DOES NOT MEAN I WILL STOP WRITING SUGGESTIVE HAHA :(
RAFAYEL & MARIELA
"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!" Mariela's voice could be heard from the other room at the end of the hallway as she called out to her father. Rafayel, who was busy working on one of his art pieces, dashed towards her room at full speed, panicking at how she was calling out to him. He slammed the door open, claymore ready to be withdrawn only to find his daughter on the floor, with paint all over her face and the canvas that he had provided to her.
One may ask why did Rafayel left his daughter all alone in her room while he was working on his art piece. Rafayel, being a good father, had coaxed his daughter for 30 minutes, with candies and also anything she could possibly want, only to be rejected by her. Her adamant 'NO's made Rafayel confused as to why she would want to paint alone in her room. 'I can do this myself daddy' was the last sentence she told him before she closed the door. And he wondered where she got the attitude from, and he had a good guess probably inherited from her independent mother.
So Rafayel sat at the living room, in his usual thinking corner, painting his artwork, but also carefully listening to anything that might go on in the room. He did tried and checked up on her a couple of minutes ago, knocking on her door and asking if she would like any biscuits with milk but the young child only replied 'NO' as if that is the only word she knew for the morning.
"I thought something happened to you, my little fishie." Rafayel sighed in relief, walking over to her to look at what she had drawn. He took a seat next to her and looked at her face. "How did you managed to get paint on both the canvas and your face?" He pulled the little girl into his lap and he chuckled, using his thumb to try and rub the paint off of her face and luckily it came off pretty easily. He silently thanked your effort in purchasing non-toxic paints for Mariela.
"I wanted to do it like how daddy do it." Her smile was angelic, one of Rafayel's trademark. She reenacted how she did it, by drawing air circles on her palm and on her face. "I drew here, and here and..." She flattened her palms and plopped her face onto the surface of her palms. Rafayel was in shock at her creativity.
"So you used your hands and your face as tools to draw?" He tilted his head and when the toddler nodded giddily, Rafayel pinched her cherubic cheeks. "You are an artist just like me. No wonder you're my daughter." He kissed her cheeks and carried her up in his arms. "Now, let's get you washed up and then we will show this piece to mummy when she is back from work okay?"
"OKAY!" She cheered, both arms flying up into the air and Rafayel laughed, bringing her into the bathroom to wash her off from the mess she had brought upon herself.
The roars of your motorbike could be heard and that led Mariela to jump off of the couch, with Rafayel catching up behind her quickly. "Mummy's home!" Mariela was elated, trying to turn the door knob the best she could but with her size and strength, she is not able to. Rafayel came to the rescue on time and he opened the door, smiling when he spotted you getting off of your motorbike and unclasping the buckle of your helmet, swiftly removing the headgear and placing it on your motorbike's seat. "Mummy!"
"Hey there sweetie!" You called out and shuffled over, arms wide opened and your daughter embraced you within your arms. "How was your day today hmm?"
The latter question of yours was directed towards your husband, who was standing against the door frame, arms crossed in front of his torso while watching both of his favourite women walking towards him. "It was good because there is a surprise." He winked at you and you both shared a peck, before heading in. "Mariela, do you want to show mummy what you drawn today?"
"Yeah! Yeah!" The little girl wriggled out of your arms smoothly and she waddled off to her room. You took a seat on the marble floor and awaited for your daughter's return. Rafayel taking a seat right next to you and he encircled his arms around your waist, giving your side a soft knead. The soft sound of thuds closing in when your daughter came out from her room, with something behind her back. "Mummy close your eyes."
Your husband then got behind you and he used his palms to cover your eyes, nodding towards your daughter to proceed further. Mariela pulled the canvas out from behind her and she placed it in your lap, before taking your hand cautiously and put it on her canvas. Rafayel released his hold on your face and you looked down, gasping in surprise at what your daughter had managed to colour on her canvas. But, you can't make out any shapes or sizes, other than two hand prints of hers and what seems to be an imprint of your daughter's face.
"This is so nice of you sweetie." You pulled her in for a hug and kissed her head. "Did you do this with your hands and face?" You asked just to be sure and her reaction made you stared at Rafayel. The actual artist staring back at you, shrugging his shoulders and muttering something along the lines of 'she did not want me to see what she was doing, so I left her to her own creativity'.
"Abstract art is great!" Rafayel smiled, ruffling his daughter's brunette curls which had grown a bit longer. "Daddy can put this in the next exhibition and you can go with me to see it." Rafayel looked at his daughter and she cheered, hugging you tightly and you beckoned your husband in for a hug as well.
On the day of the exhibition, Rafayel was busy attending to the guests, completing his interviews and taking pictures with his fans. You are spending time with Mariela, hand holding hers as the both of you walked through the exhibition halls. Pink and blue and purple, all colours within the same spectrum covered the walls in forms of splatters, lace ribbons were tapered to the ceilings, to add on a touch of elegance. No doubt your husband has 'extravagance' as his middle name.
Almost every corner is littered with his artworks, ranging from abstract to rough sketches, to impressionism paintings to sculptures. Rafayel is a master to all types of artworks, which gained him the fame and respect he has gotten till now. The wooden flooring resonated the sound of your footsteps, heels clacked against it in sync. You looked down at your daughter to notice the little girl has her mouth agaped, staring at all of her father's artworks in awe. Same, Mariela, same.
"Is that the daughter he had mentioned about?" A distant voice could be heard echoing from the end of the hallway and you turned around, seeing a woman clad in a formal outfit, hair neatly tied back and a microphone in her hand. A camera man right behind of her with one of his huge video cameras situated on his shoulder. "Hi, can we do an interview?"
Out of politeness, you agreed, smiling and nodding your head and the reporter crew started to approach you and your daughter. You lowered yourself down to carry Mariela up into your arms so that she could be within the shot as well, assuming the reporter would like a word or two with the renowned artist's daughter.
"How would you describe living with Rafayel, a famous artist?" The reporter held out the mic to you, awaiting for your response.
"Uhm...living with Rafayel has always been a pleasant one, as he does take care of me and my daughter's needs." You replied, a smile coming forth. "He is a good husband and a good father."
"That is good to note. Rafayel sure do cares about you guys a lot. But, would you care to say that you fell in love with him because he is rich and famous?" The daring assumption made by the reporter made you scowled in 4k on the Linkon's National Television Network.
Your eyebrows are now knitted together, your facade of being nice slowly fading behind your rising annoyance. "No. I certainly do not and will never love him just because of his wealth and fame. I love him for the way he is."
"Fans had also mentioned that you do not seem to be a good example of a mother given you are a deepspace hunter yourself. Moreover, given the recent decrease in recruits, you had to take up double shifts to cover for the incident. What do you have to say regarding this?" The woman smirked, knowing she had struck a nerve in you. Her tone coated in layers of disdain and you can see it right through. This is a personal attack towards you and your family.
Before you could retort the question, you felt a hand on the small on your back and you turned around, your husband standing upright beside you. A look you knew all too well shown on his face. "Get out of my exhibition." The crew feigned innocence, looking at one another to mentally convince themselves that they had done nothing wrong other than doing their jobs. "Nobody disrespects my wife and my family like that. Be it fans or reporters or anyone else. SO you can kindly see yourself out before I call on my security guards." The edge of his lips curled into a cunning smirk. "Which I think might not look good on your company's reputation if they were to escort you guys out."
The bunch of strangers started dispersing out of the family's sight and you looked at Rafayel, who is quick to take Mariela off of your arms and into his. "Are you okay?" He ran the back of his hand across your cheek. "I am sorry, I should have been by your side the whole time." He apologised, putting the blame onto himself but you held his hand in yours, thumb rubbing comforting circles.
"Don't say that Rafayel. You were just doing what Thomas has asked of you. I can fend for myself if those remarks were thrown to me." You gave him a peck on your cheek. "Even if the day you end up being homeless and broke, I will still love you." You looked over to your daughter, who had cosied up to her father's neck, fast asleep.
"The same thing applies from me to you too, cutie." The use of the old nickname rolling off of the tip of his tongue made you bit your lip and you could not help but to smile, looking down at your heels. His finger lifted your chin up, and he pressed a kiss onto your lips lovingly in the middle of the exhibition hallway, ensuring that reporters who may be passing by would be able to catch a glimpse of his actual exhibition of love.
ZAYNE & LUMI & IVER
"Good morning." You could make out Zayne's husky voice and his weight was pressed up slightly against your back, a kiss then planted on your cheek. "Today is Lumi and Iver's presentation day. The one where they have to bring a parent along and to introduce them."
"Oh it's today?" You asked, yawning and stirring yourself to wake. You turned over to face your husband and you opened one eye. "I totally forgotten about it." Zayne smiled, pressing a kiss to your lips this time. You felt particularly tired because today is one of those rare off days you could get whenever Wanderer sightings are not reported as often, and perhaps, with the amount of lovemaking you had gone through with Zayne last night, it was a little hard for you to just jump out of bed and get ready for now.
"I can go on behalf on us as I do not need to be in the hospital today." He smoothed his hand over your hair, staring at you lovingly with those alluring hazel-green eyes of his. "So, take your time to rest, my love. You deserve it." Another kiss is pressed to your lips for a few seconds and he got out of bed, walking over to you to pull his side of blanket over your half naked body. "I don't want you to get a cold, so you may take my side of the blanket too."
You smiled warmly at him in return and managed to catch a glimpse of his toned physique when he walked towards the bathroom to wash himself up. Once he was done, he went over to the kids' room to wake them up. "Lumi, Iver. It's time to wake up." He said gently, pushing the curtains open to draw in the sunlight. The twins slowly stirred awake and they both sat up in their beds, in a half awake state.
"Morning daddy." Lumi spoke, with Iver saying the same exact greeting a few seconds behind. As if by routine, they both extended their arms out and Zayne picked both of them up in one-go, bringing them to the bathroom so they could get washed up and get dressed for school.
Pulling up at the twin's kindergarten, Zayne parked at the allocated parking lots for the parents and he got out of the car, immediately getting stares and comments from the bystanders in hushed whispers. Not only does he own a fancy car that most parents could not afford, but he is also extremely good looking. He popped the backseat's door open and escorted both of his kids into the kindergarten's premises.
Zayne sat on the floor, just like the other parents but it felt a little out of place for him as he was the only father who attended this event. The usual stigma regarding kids shall always be tied to a mother's responsibility but Zayne has never believed in that. He strongly believes that childrens are a result of both sides of parents, hence they should be a shared responsibility for both parents.
Lumi and Iver sat in front of their father, and they noticed the way their classmates were looking over to them. "Is that your daddy?" One of the classmates asked Lumi, the toddler about her size, with big brown eyes and short brown bob. Lumi nodded in return. "My mummy say he looks very nice." The comment made Zayne looked over at the parent who is in charge of the talking child and the mother looked away in embarassment.
As usual, Zayne is used to this kind of scenarios, even in hospitals he would always be stared at by patients, some even going as far as to state that they are cured because of how handsome he is. Zayne however, never bought into any of those bullshit. It is not because he is egoistic, but he does not want to be downplayed because of his looks. The saying goes, if you are handsome, you get a certain privilege amongst the normies. Zayne wanted to prove that idea to be a total scam as looks does not necessarily equate to one's actual capabilities in getting things done. Zayne being a prime example.
The homeroom teacher came in after the bell had finished ringing and she welcomed all of the parents' attendance. Goes on about the agenda for the day and that this event is held to encourage stronger bonds between parents and children and amongst their peers as well. "Lumi and Iver's father, would you like to be the first one to start?" She asked Zayne, palms out and pointed towards him.
"Sure." The man replied, clearing his throat and standing up, his towering height a stark difference from his children. He walked to the front of the classroom. Kids of their age would have thought of him being the giant in the beanstalk fairytale if only he had green skin and a big nose. Zayne pushed the glasses up the bridge of his nose and greeted everyone. "Good morning everybody, my name is Zayne and I am the father to Lumi and Iver." He sent a smile towards his kids. "I am the chief surgeon and leading cardiologist for Akso Hospital."
Zayne talked about his job, keeping it brief and non-technical as he does not want to bore anyone within the room and he does not find the need to reveal too much of his personal information. Now comes the questioning phase, in which the parents would ask questions towards the speaker to get to know them better. "Dr. Zayne, since you are a doctor, would your work take up a lot of time?" One of the ladies asked, readjusting her position on the mat.
"Yes it does." Simple and clear-cut.
"Then do you have a wife to take care of the kids for you?" Her question turned into a flirtatious attempt and a couple of other mums started to tune in, some biting their lip and some fixing their hair. Does not take one to know what was already running through their minds.
Zayne sighed, feeling indifferent to her question. He purposely held his left hand in front of his chest and he twisted the wedding band that is evident on his ring finger, the diamond cut on the simple band refracting the sunlight almost immediately. The lady who asked her question seemingly tried to choke back on her own words, face darkening to a shade akin to a tomato. "Of course I do. A doctor would not be in his or her right mind to have kids and to work full time when our job requires us to be on call for 24/7."
He continued. "My wife is a full time deepspace hunter and we are both equally as involved in our children's lives, just on intervals for the weekdays, but on weekends, we take more time to nurture them." The way he phrased his answer made the whole room went silent, the only sound present being the chirps of the birds coming from outside of the window.
"We are home mummy!" Both of the twins shouted together, placing their shoes onto the shoe rack and dashing into the house to look for their mother. Zayne followed in suit, keeping an eye on them two so they do not end up falling.
"Hey there my babies!" You called out from your bedroom, already dressed up and wide awake. Lumi and Iver both in their tiny white uniforms with stripes of blue, the uniform colour of the kindergarten they both attended. Lumi's dark hair was tied into a neat braid, an effort from Zayne's Youtube history having a streak watch for braid tutorials. Iver's hair however is soft and fluffy, the same as his father’s and it sat on top of his head like a cloud.
"How was the parent meeting?" You asked them two, and they both enveloped you into a big hug, each on one side. Both of your kids looked very happy so you assumed that it went well.
"All of our friends brought mummies." Iver stated. "Nobody bring their daddies to school today." Lumi nudged Iver and whispered something into his ear in her low voice and the boy reiterated what her sister said. "Oh and Cathy's mummy said daddy looks very good."
"She said he is handsome." Lumi corrected Iver and they both turned in sync to watch your reaction. What could you possibly say? Your husband is good looking, it is a bound-to-happen situation but you somehow wished you were the one that attended the event instead. A small slither of jealousy bubbled in your stomach. Just a tiny one.
You were wondering if Zayne took the lady's compliment until you saw your husband walking into the room, with a stoic look. He has always been stoic, yes, but this time, something is different about this look of his. His white formal collared shirt hugged his muscled figure well, his simple black tie hanging loosely below the third button, extending one's sight on his wide sets of shoulders and his v-line figure. His sleeves were folded to his forearm, veins lining against the exposed part of his arms. He placed the car keys and his glasses onto the makeup table and sent you a short look, the side of his lips pulled up into a greeting and loving smile. "Good morning, y/n."
"Good morning, my love." You wanted to believe that Zayne did not entertain the lady's compliment, but you just wanted to hear him say it. So, y/n decided to go with an indirect approach. "Kids, can you wait for mummy outside? Daddy and mummy have to talk a little." Once both of the kids had left, you turned to your 'sulking' husband who was busy changing into a more comfortable outfit. "Come on, what happened?"
"Apparently, I was the only male figure there." He spoke informatively. "And particularly, I do not find it likeable when the other parents think that I am a single parent." His sentence got you figuring when did he ever cared about what people think about him? Has the cold Dr. Zayne finally loosened up? "I find it disrespectful towards you despite them meeting me for the first time." He sounds offended and yet providing the benefit of the doubt to the other parents.
You stared at him, perplexed at the situation. "So, conclusively, you do not enjoy going to the parent's meeting?" You crossed your arms in front of your torso. "Because you do not like the way I got low-key disrespected by the other mums?" A part of you is tasting victory at the tip of your tongue for how protective he is, another part of you---, okay there's no other part. It is the least Zayne could do to show you and the others that he is in a happy marriage and you are fully content with the way he had handled it.
There is not a need to address your concerns of the woman calling him handsome anymore because you know well enough if Zayne had wanted to cheat on you, he could have done it many times given his popularity amongst the opposite sex. But he stayed loyal through thick and thin and had never made you doubt his loyalty and love to you, this being one of his prime examples of being a fine husband.
Zayne chuckled under his breath and came closer to you, both of his hands held your arms and he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. "Low-key is too minimal of a word to describe their assumptions. It is disrespectful for them to assume I am a single parent, when I have a model wife right here with me." He ran his hands repeatedly up and down your arms to comfort you.
"Furthermore, I do enjoy going to Lumi and Iver's events at the kindergarten but perhaps next time, I would much prefer it if you went with me." He pulled you into his arms and you surrendered within his hug. "So that we can spend time with the kids and I get to indirectly dismiss any ladies who may be interested in taking your place." Your laugh further made him look forward to the upcoming event for his kids' kindergarten.
XAVIER & LUCIAN
"Daddy, what are you doing?" Lucian appeared from behind his bedroom door, one eye opened while the other half-lidded. Xavier took a peek at the clock hung on the wall. 10.30am. Lucian, however, is looking at the desk filled with all sorts of sewing needles and a bunch of fabric lapped over one another. "Are you making something daddy?" His eyebrows hinged upwards and he tried to get onto his tip toes to see what was placed on the table.
Seeing his son struggling, he carried the little boy up into his arms and placed him on his lap. "I am trying to sew mum a toy, you know, like the ones that you can get from the souvenir shops and all?" Lucian looked between his father and the mess on the table, figuring out how does one make a bunch of cloths into a toy. The limitation of imagination a normal happening for a toddler his age. "What should we make for mummy?"
"A big teddy bear!" The son exclaimed, arms wide and laughing happily. Xavier chuckled along, his son not lacking any bit of his wife's enthusiasm. "Rabbit? Mummy likes rabbits." The son pressed his small index finger to his own lips, thinking to himself. The suggestion of his made Xavier's cheeks flushed red, remembering that one time when you brought him to an event and made him dressed up as a rabbit themed butler, and that is how he met Lucian's mum. Ironic, I know.
"Yeah, I guess a rabbit would do." A sigh escaped his lips when he noticed none of the cloths on the table are white. Unless his wife would be able to appreciate a multi-coloured rabbit toy, he did not want to risk it. "We need to go shopping for some stuffs. Can you go and change your clothes Lucian?" Xavier instructed and the little boy headed off to his bedroom as he was previously trained. As much as independence goes, you and Xavier had decided that some good habits have to be instilled from young. Dressing himself up being one of the disciplines you guys had agreed on.
Xavier got himself changed into a simple white t-shirt and a pair of wide jeans. Surprisingly and yet not surprisingly, Lucian came out of his room, holding a same blue jeans in his hand. "Daddy, can you help me? It is hard to pull it up-up." He pouted, handing Xavier the jeans. Steadying himself, Xavier pulled the jeans up his legs and helped him to button it. "Thank you daddy." The son grinned from ear to ear and held onto Xavier's hand, going over to put on his shoes.
Initially, they were going to ride the motorbike to get to where they are headed, but given the sun is high up the skies today, it calls for a chance for the both of them to enjoy a walk under the clear and warm weather. Xavier did brought along an umbrella as well, in case Lucian gets a little hot. Just because he enjoys the sun, he does not immediately assume his son would enjoy it as much. A lesson he had learned from his wife when you got a fever after walking with him under the sun despite you not being able to stand the heat.
The streets today are not as busy as the normal weekends, with minimal traffic and pedestrians. "Are you tired already?" Xavier observed his son, his footsteps slowing down and slightly wonky. Lucian looked up at his towering father and shake his head, hand coming up to rub his eyes and he yawned. Tears lined his eyes and Xavier bent down to carry his son up into his arms. "It's okay, you can take a nap in my arms, kiddo."
He walked down the street, passing by a coffee shop that looked newly opened. As he was looking through the menu that was on a stand outside, his phone vibrated in his pocket. Fishing it out of his pocket, he noticed that his wife is contacting him. "Hello? Baby?" He immediately pressed the phone to his ear. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah, everything's fine. I woke up to an empty house. Where are you and Lucian?" You asked and he gulped, luckily he had kept the threads and sewing kits and fabrics or else the surprise factor would be ruined.
"Lucian told me that he wanted to have a walk at the park. Since you are still sound asleep, I decided to bring him out for a small walk." Xavier explained, head tilting slightly to look at his son. Still sound asleep within his arms. "We will be back around 15 minutes. Is there anything you would like me to get for you?"
"Some coffee would be great, Xavier." You smiled on the other side of the line, same as him. "Be safe when you are at the park with Lucian alright? I will just rest a bit more at home." You informed him and the call ended with 'Bye' and 'I love you'.
Arriving at a craft store, he lightly woke his son up by kissing his cheek. "We are here Lucian, would you like to accompany me to decide on what colour to get for mummy?" Lucian blinked open his eyes, those light blue irises of his slowly darkened to make up for the lack of lighting within the store. The trinkets neatly placed in various baskets and boxes amazed the child, there are so many things he would like to get his hands on.
"Hi there, how may I help you?" A senior appeared from behind the counter. A lovely lady with a hunched figure, her own kitting works worn on her. Xavier leaned closer to the counter, noticing the vast amount of fabrics, of all sizes and textures mapped out behind the counter. There are also several pictures, in monogramic style, featuring the old lady in her younger days and what seems to be her children, standing side by side, smiling with her. Her light brown eyes lit up when she caught sight of Xavier and Lucian. "Oh, what a precious child."
"Thank you." Xavier thanked her. The old lady laid her knitting items down onto the table she had beside her and she reached her wrinkly hand up to wave it in front of Lucian. The young kid was quick to react, using his tiny hand to wrap around the lady's index finger and Xavier swear he could have seen the old woman regained her youth at that moment. Perhaps reminiscing about the times when she had her kids alongside her. "I am here to get some fabric so I can make a stuffed toy for my wife."
Now it is Xavier's time to have a hunched back. He never thought the process of sewing a stuffed toy would be so complicated. Can't blame him, given his royalty background in Philos and him being an esteemed deepspace hunter in this dimension, why would he even go near anything related to sewing and knitting? It is however, a part-time hobby of yours, as you mentioned that you find it to be peaceful and helps you to focus better. It is also a good past time on the days when you are not busy out on the field.
"Daddy, daddy look at that!" Lucian called out and his head turned towards the direction his son pointed at. Claw Machine Store. Why has he never thought of just taking things the easy route? Because he did not want to. Catching a stuffed toy from a claw machine will always surpass the level of easiness as compared to making a stuffed toy from scratch. Furthermore, the thought of you finding out he actually put in the effort to make the stuffed toy for you would leave your heart melting. He wanted that from you, or more like he just wants you to be happy.
Across the street stood the claw machine store, with stuffed toys filled to the brim for each of the machines, begging to be caught. Your son's eyes are fully attached to the store now, already making mental marks on which toys he would want in his room. Your husband lack that enthusiasm, staring down at the huge bag of craft items he had just purchased from the store. He is debating against himself. Whether to catch a toy or to make one. Either one could predict for different endings, but he knows that you would be happy for both endings. Perhaps he was slightly irritated for the measuring of the level for your happiness.
"Let's go Lucian." He grabbed his son and heaved him upwards, holding the child in his arms like how one carries a log and he crossed the empty street. His feet light and quick in his steps, a habit obtained from his long-time combat instincts. The borders of the tar road ended when he stepped onto the padded pavement, putting his son down and watched as the kid hopped into the store. Xavier was quick on his tail, worried that something might happen to his son.
Luckily, the little boy with the light hair is easy to spot amongst the assemblage of neon lights and bright colours emitting from the machines. Lucian stood in front of a machine, hands pressed against the glass panel, hair stained pink from the light strobe of the machine. "Can we get this one for mummy?" His grin was angelic, but Xavier stood there, slightly stunned. Did his son perhaps doubted his sewing abilities as well like how he doubted his cooking abilities? Well, there is a possibility.
"But I bought these already kiddo. I thought we were going to make a toy for mummy." Xavier tried to test the waters and his son only responded with gestures, tine finger tapped at the glass panel again, pointing directly at the bunny plushie. "Lucian..." Xavier tried to coax him again.
Lucian then faced his father, lips pursed together. "The granny told me that you might get hurt from sewweng." The last word that has not been registered in his vocabulary. "I don't want daddy to get hurt. I don't think mummy will be happy too." For a 3-year old, his sensibility is admirable. His son's words changed his mind, and he gave the little boy a card, the one where he usually reloads a bit too much tokens in it for any sorts of arcades. "Let's get one for mummy together okay?"
"You," You closed the bedroom door behind you, a pastel pink stuffed rabbit in your grasp. Lucian had already being put to sleep shortly after his dinner because the poor boy was dozing off on the dining table. Today could have been a long day for your son. You watched your husband shifted his gaze from the mukbang show on the television to you. "Are a bad liar."
"What do you mean?" His voice feigning innocence when he sat up in a better posture, leaning against the bedframe now. "What have I done this time?"
"Lucian told me that you stitched this yourself." Your teasing smile is apparent to him now, you wiggling the bunny in your hands to show him the evident of his works.
"Do you not believe me?" Xavier's eyes widened, here comes the puppy look. He got out of the bed and slowly approached you. His aura taking a turn from being accused to being the accuser. "Or, do you not want to believe that I stitched it?"
You took a step back, your lower back pressed against the makeup table and he caged you, arms extended on both sides of your figure and he leaned in, smirking and chuckling lowly under his breath. "I...I...didn't know you could stitch toys." Your breath hitched in your throat as you could feel his warm breath fanned across your cheeks.
"I feel a little bit upset now." He expressed, pressing a soft and longing kiss onto your cheek and you jolted in shock. "Your son and I had tried to get a toy for you at the arcade today but we kind of finished the credits because the machine was problematic." You would safely put a finger on the fact that he is just bad at claw machine games as per usual. "So, Lucian and I decided to go back to the store where we bought the craft products from and got the old lady behind the counter to give us a crafting lesson. Then this bunny is the outcome of the lesson."
You can feel your heart bloomed at his explanation. You felt bad for doubting his skills, and you even thought that the bad stitching of the toy is a trend nowadays hence you assume your poor husband went off fishing at the claw machine arcades. You should not have doubted his determination. "I'm sorry Xavier, I didn't mean to. I just never thought you would go so out of your way to make me a stuffed bunny. I just---" His index finger slid past your bottom lip at a painfully slow pace.
"Sometimes, you can choose other methods to let me know that you're sorry." He whispered quietly and leaned down to kiss you, the doll you were holding taken out of your hands and tossed behind him, landing on the floor with a thud and your vision blended out into both of your igniting passion.
Here you go lovelies, this is part two for the LNDS boys with their kids and you <3
Leave me your thoughts and love <3 Have a nice day to all me lovelies!!!!
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#rafayel love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#lnds#xavier love and deepspace#fluffy#rafayel x reader#zayne x reader#xavier x reader
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sweet nothing • 9
| in which he patiently waits one day at a time|
↳ Description: being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself.
His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.
Pairing: Jungkook/reader, ???/reader
↳ Genre: slice of life AU, mafia!AU, pregnancy, there’s like…a little bit of a plot but not a lot, future smut? maybe? it's very domestic!
Word count: 2.9k
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Note: no matter how many scenes i write, they're all sad and i'm kinda sorry bc i said this fic wasn't going to have much plot but it somehow has a lot of plot now??? and its kinda sad??? HERE YOU GUYS GO THO
The commotion going on in the estate wasn’t difficult to tell, men had been actively walking more than their usual rotations required and Jungkook knew this was a sign you were causing some sort of chaos as you seemed to do every day now.
And upon following the trail it led him just a door down from your own room, items being moved and you were currently pouting as you sighed.
“Do tell me what your idea is for this little renovation project.” Jungkook hummed, leaning against the door, not actually annoyed at how much you always move things around in his estate in fact…Dare he say he felt a little endeared.
And Jungkook found himself falling into old habits, habit he found himself missing, such as being able to take the time to admire you, all thoughts of work fading from his head at the sight of your dress, just past your knees and a faded checker blue, flowing sleeves that went to your elbows for room and of course the ever growing bump.
Your hands were set around it seemingly pouting over something before his words drew you out of your thoughts, “Jungkook, I didn’t realize you were home so early.”
“I have a meeting I have to attend in person later,” Jungkook replied, “You didn’t answer my question.”
There it was again, that small pout he hadn’t realized he missed so much until it dawned your lips once more, “Well…” You seemed a bit hesitant before you spoke, “I gave it some thought- what we talked about a few days ago, about a nursery and I figured you were right. It’s better we be prepared for it then not.”
Jungkook was relieved to hear this because while he was trying his hardest to get something on Wonho, there was a smaller, more selfish part of him that enjoyed this, enjoying having you at his estate.
An even smaller part of him not wanting it to end so soon, he had to let go of you once and no it wasn’t fair, but even there was even the slightest chance…well, he didn’t want to let it slip through his fingers and have to let you go once again.
Jungkook only nodded, “So what's with the look then?”
“Well,” You gave him a sheepish smile, “I had all of this stuff moved out and realized I have nothing to actually put in here…”
Jungkook couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him as he pushed off the frame stepping into the room, “Hm, that’s a strange way to ask for money.”
“Jungkook I wasn’t-”
“I’m teasing relax,” Jungkook cut you off, your lips tugging even poutier, you had always been like this, since day one in fact, always worried he’d think you were using him for money, always trying to deter him from paying even if you didn’t have the means to actually afford it yourself.
It was sweet, “But you’re also in no position to not accept it and I have more than enough money to afford it- it’s a win win.”
You stared at his outstretched hand, black shiny amex in his hand, “I don’t feel right just using it.”
Jungkook sighed wistfully, “You didn’t seem to feel too guilty helping your brother with rates and statistics for drug sales.”
Your lips parted somewhat in surprise, “That was different…!”
“You’re right,” There it was that stupid teasing, charming smile of his, “It was probably worse.”
You knew he was only teasing, but something about it made you feel gross still, you had a reason you were in that room, a reason that is long gone from you now, “Well it doesn’t matter anymore does it?”
Jungkook paused at the sight of your expression dimming as you continued looking out the open window as your hand absently rubbed your bump, “I haven’t done that for a long time now…”
“Y/n I didn’t mean-”
“I know,” You cut him off softly looking back at him and there was an unmistakable look of regret in his eyes, not wanting to cross any lines with you but you were afraid they already had, “I just…I guess I just have some regrets about getting involved….I never wanted to hurt anyone,” You whispered out, “I had a reason I was there and it had nothing to do with the money...For myself at least.”
Jungkook frowned, there were still so many things he didn’t know about you, your time together having been cut short when you both had first met, “What other reason could there be?”
It was an indirect question, rather than a rhetorical one, you knew what he was asking.
You hesitated, but then again, you supposed it didn’t matter now, it was all in the past, no matter how dull it made your heart ache.
“Well…” You let out a soft sigh, “I’m sure you remember I wasn’t exactly financially stable, and for me that was fine. It was enough,” You nodded to yourself in thought, “It wasn’t much, but it was enough.”
“Until…?”
“I received a phone call,” You mumbled, recalling the event, “A foster agency, telling me that they did a DNA test on one of their cases and it came out as a match on me and my brother. Just a week old, dropped off right outside the police station.”
You had to bite down on your tongue, you had thought you were over it, but it still stung just as raw, “Since we were her only blood family I was given the opportunity to adopt her…” You let out a sigh trying to keep it together, “Except I was too poor, I didn’t even come close to having a qualifying salary to show that I could be responsible for her and take care of her…”
“What about Wonho?” Jungkook cocked his head to the side, baffled at this information.
You let out a loud scoff, bitterness that you had tried so hard to let go of coming back up as you shook your head, “Wonho didn’t give a shit, told me that it wasn’t our problem but I struck a deal with him, if I helped him up until his annual evaluation with you for his first year of work, he’d help me get the expenses that were required to foster her.”
Jungkook’s brows furrowed as he shook his head, “And?”
There it was, that little niggle in your head that was angry about it all, angry at Wonho, angry at yourself, especially at Jungkook, “Well all of it fell apart. Very quickly, one thing after the other. I mean obviously you dropped off the face of the planet for months so Wonho wasn’t making money- I got let go of my job because of the murder- everything went void.”
Jungkook looked away with a long inhale as if he had been mentally prepared for the moment you’d finally cave and say it, but it wasn’t as if you were wrong, you were simply stating a fact, he completely ghosted you and civilization as everyone knew it and just like that, he had left your life as quick as he entered.
It was difficult to not be angry about it when he was the one that convinced you that the very thing you were afraid of wouldn’t happen, just for a few short months later, let it happen. And you were sure he had his reasons, you were certain of it, but it didn’t change the fact that he left you with little to no explanation and just like that, never bothered to come back, didn’t even so much as send a letter, a proper apology, nothing.
“I’ve…” Jungkook’s eyes squinted on the ground, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you, about what happened.”
You shook your head, “Jungkook, it’s been two years,” Your voice softened, his eyes glancing up to meet yours and once again you felt the dull ache that never went away, “I shouldn’t of brought it up, I’m sorry…it’s in the past now, life went on.”
“Well it didn’t for me.” Jungkook let out a small breath and you could hear a hint of bitterness in his voice.
Your lips quivered a little, “Do you have any right to say that?”
“Probably not,” When did he get this close to you, “But it doesn’t change how I feel.”
Old feelings were like a dam bursting inside you and you began to shake your head, “I’m not ready to talk about this Jungkook- can’t we just keep pretending like nothing happened?”
Jungkook shook his head, “We’ve both tried this and neither of us are good at it Y/n, I can’t, not when I have a second chance.”
You raised your brows, “No! No this is…” You took an immediate step back, “This is not what this is Jungkook, what happened is over. I’m only staying here because Wonho has a target on his back and you were kind enough to keep me out of the crossfire.”
“Maybe that’s how it started out,” Jungkook replied just as quick, taking another step closer to you, “Look…I know it’s not fair,” He frowned, as if he hated saying it, “I had every intention to stay out of your life, it wasn’t fair to drag you along back then and that’s why I didn’t, but…You’re here now, right in front of me. So yes…I do see it as a second chance, and if there’s any way I can make it right, I will.”
You groaned, “It’s not just making it right anymore!” You wanted to scream! “I have baggage now Jungkook!” Your eyes threatened to water as your hands dropped from your stomach, “A lot of it. It’s not just me anymore I’m getting ready to have a baby, you don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“I know exactly what I’m asking for.” Jungkook sharply replied, eyes brewing with anger, “And what I’m asking for is you, all of you.”
“You had your chance and you left me, plain and simple, you left. I don’t understand why now…Out of all the time, two years later, now…!?” You hadn’t meant to raise your voice, but you were angry, perplexed, scared.
Scared just the way you were when he was upfront the first time in that stupid bakery you wanted nothing more then to pretend like didn’t happen, you wanted to pretend like you never got drunk at that stupid bar, that he wasn’t late that day, that he didn’t sat down and offer to pay for your meal for making you wait.
You wanted to pretend like he had actually listened for once when you declined him asking you out, that he didn’t visit you every morning at work, and more then anything you wanted to pretend like you had a stronger will, that you didn’t let him convince, your mind was flooding with so many memories of him.
His hand trailing down your thigh while drunk in the back of his car, his eyes when he saw the bust in your lip, his smile when your fingers intertwined with his, his skin etched into yours for the first time, ushered sweet nothings that he’d love you forever.
But at the time you didn’t realize that forever would only be a short three months then just like that, it was over, and oftentimes you were left many sleepless nights wondering, was it even love? Everything had happened so fast, it felt like forever.
But two years later, standing in front of him you realized it had been two agonizingly long years since you saw him in person.
“I made a choice,” Jungkook defended himself, “I stuck to that choice…I was leaving you alone, even if I didn’t want to and then…” He ran a hand through his hair, revealing his face in full detail his eyes baffled as if trying to understand himself, “Suddenly one night you’re dropped in the middle of my office. I didn’t have any pretenses, I was just being nice letting you stay here, I had fond memories of our time together, I didn’t want to let you get caught in the crossfire- it was the least I could do after everything.”
You crossed your arms as he continued, “And then…I don’t know,” He muttered, “I look at you, I see your smile, I see you standing here pouting and trying to do it all yourself, like you always tried to do. And suddenly it’s two years ago and we’re both drunk sitting at the bar talking about what it would be like to be in love. And I feel the exact same way I did back then, looking at you and wondering if maybe I had finally found it.”
You felt physically sick, it was like he was intentionally wanting to break your heart all over again, “You sent them to raid my home, you can’t tell me this wasn’t planned…”
“I didn’t expect them to fuckin’ kidnap you Y/n!” Jungkook let out a hurt laugh, running his hand through his hair, “In fact I gave them direct instruction to do the shakedown while you were at work and to not destroy your apartment- you were supposed to be at work!”
“Well I wasn’t!” You shouted back, “I wasn’t feeling well and my coworker offered to cover! You can’t do this to me! You can’t, not after all this time…” You voice died down, “You can’t just…open all of this back up as a second chance because you’re feeling nostalgic over a fling-”
“You were never a fling to me-”
“That’s how I felt after you left-” You suddenly winced, hand immediately pressing to your stomach, instinctual almost despite the pain coming from your chest, Jungkook’s eyes immediately widening and he had closed the small gap between you both.
“Let’s get you sat down…” Jungkook murmured and you couldn’t help but stare at his hand, big and calloused, multiple rings just the way you remembered, pressed against your bump and a wave of intense sadness thrummed in your heart, what you’d give to go back and change everything.
You were too tired to fight his touch, and a smaller part of you crying– begging inside your mind to just give in, to put your worries aside and roll the dice again, maybe he’d actually keep his promise this time.
But you refrained from leaning against him too much as he sat you down on the bed in your room, phone immediately in hand as he called Doctor Choi, after hanging up the air was thick with a silence and tension.
Jungkook sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed, “...If you don’t wanna talk about it, we won’t. I don’t want you going into preterm…But…I want you to know I didn’t make that decision because I wanted to, and I didn’t do it easily either.”
You self soothed, rubbing your tummy as your eyes closed, “I know you didn’t. At least that's what I told myself the last few years, that surely there was a really good reason…And you wanna know the worst part Jungkook?” You whispered, sad eyes as you opened them to look at him, “I waited…I waited every day, sat at that stupid register hoping you’d come, even after Wonho stopped talking to me I went to the Red Light anyways, hoped maybe you’d be there. There wasn’t a day I didn’t check my phone only to be disappointed by your name not being on the screen…”
It was silent again before you tried to hold back your tears, “You broke my heart. Right in two, promised you wouldn’t leave me, and then you did. And now you’re asking me for another chance?”
You said you wouldn’t cry, but here you were softly weeping in your bed, feeling like a child once again, helpless and wondering why no matter how hard you tried, nobody ever stayed, you had thought he was different, but it turned out he was just like the rest.
Jungkook’s hands cupped your cheeks, thumbing the tears away as he pressed his forehead down to yours, “For what it’s worth, I am sorry,” He murmured, “I’m just as much a sinner as anyone else, I’m ill-tempered and cruel, I’ve killed a lot more people then you could ever imagine, but most of all Y/n, I’m selfish, I’m not really a good man. But I could be good, for you.”
“You don’t know how bad I really want to believe you,” You whispered out, “But I had so long to think about it, to look back and realize I know nothing about you. It was my own fault really, you’re not a good man and I knew that back then, just like I know it right now.”
“I know I hurt you,” Jungkook had a sort of determination in his eye, the kind that you knew was unwavering, he meant every word he was saying, “But there hasn’t been a day I wished it could be different. I’ll do whatever is necessary to earn your trust again.”
You pressed your lips together for a long moment, “I’m not saying it isn’t possible, but you have a long way to go if you really want it.”
Jungkook’s long slim finger traced down your jawline, “I’ll take it one day at a time, just like the first time.”
#bts#jungkook#jeon jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook x y/n#mafia bts#mafia jungkook#jungkook imagine#bts au
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a/n: it's part 2 to this little thang and also this request: can you write a fluffy coryo fic where yn is in the arena during the bombing and she gets hurt worse than coryo? love your fics!
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Coriolanus shuffling around his bedroom drew you from your slumber, momentarily forgetting the past day’s events.
“What are you doing awake so early?” You mumbled, leaning back on your elbows to watch your boyfriend skitter around, papers in his hands.
“Dr. Gaul wanted Clemensia and I to write a proposal for some additions to the Games. After everything yesterday, I forgot until a little while ago.” Coriolanus explained, glancing at you. “It’s still early, you can sleep for another couple hours.”
Shaking your head, you sat up and yawned. “I’m not going to let you stay up alone, Coryo. Besides,” you looked at your bandaged palm. “My hand is starting to bother me again.”
The blue eyes you loved darted from his desk to the white gauze on your hand. “I’m sorry, love. I wish I could have been in your place.”
“Don’t, Coryo. You couldn’t have predicted what could have happened yesterday.” You drew your knees up to your chest, arms wrapping around your legs. “What sorts of things did you write about adding to the Games? Does Clemensia know you’re still writing it?”
Coriolanus set his pen down, giving the paper a once-over. “Would you like to read it? Make sure it makes sense?” He asked, handing the papers over to you.
Taking them in your non-stitched hand, you looked the three sheets over, reading over what Coriolanus suggested the Gamemakers add to enhance the Games and entice the Capitol and even districts to watch them.
“Betting on the tributes?” You asked. “How?”
Coriolanus shrugged, moving to sit next to you in his bed. “A prize pot, perhaps? The winner gets a portion of the prize money, the Capitol gets the other portion to use in updating the arena.”
Humming, you passed the papers back to your boyfriend, who slid them into his bag. “Now, you do need rest. Sleep for a little, my dove.”
You rolled your eyes, but you did curl into Coriolanus’ side as he too tried to catch another couple hours of sleep.
-break-
Having been granted fifteen minutes with the tributes in the arena to gather information and propose strategies, you made quick time of getting the basics out of your bag and handing them to Tanner.
“Some food, water, and antibiotics to last until the day after tomorrow.” You explained, setting the items on the table within Tanner’s reach so he could examine them while restrained to the table.
“Your hand okay?” He asked, staring at the gauze.
Following his gaze, you flexed your fingers, grunting as the skin pulled taut near the stitches. “I’ll be okay.”
You looked over to where Coriolanus and Clemensia were talking to Peacekeepers and Dean Highbottom, having been called over from their tributes. “Have you made any allies so far?”
Tanner knew what you were getting at. “You want me to help protect the songbird? Your boyfriend trying to win or something?”
You swallowed, gauging how you should respond. “Or something.”
“Look,” Tanner said, lacing his hands together on the tabletop. “I’ll save my ass first, but if there’s anything I can do to not get her killed, I’ll try to help her.”
You thanked him, jumping when there was a sudden alarm from the speakers. “Time’s up!”
Peacekeepers wasted no time to gather the tributes and take them back to their cage at the Capitol Zoo, and you wished Tanner well before the next time you saw him- one final meeting between mentors and tributes before the Games.
-break-
You finally caught up with Coriolanus after a couple hours back at the Citadel, frowning at the lack of Clemensia with him. “Where’s Clem?”
“She’s uh, she’s not feeling well.” Coriolanus replied, grabbing the door to the café for you.
“Oh. Did something happen when you two met with Dr. Gaul?”
Coriolanus softly nodded his head. He looked green at the gills, and you felt your stomach turn at what the possibilities could be with Dr. Gaul and her mutts in the lab.
“Coryo,” you whispered. “What happened?”
“I can’t explain it here. But I will, promise.” He mumbled, chewing on his lip.
You knew he would eventually tell you, as it seemed you were one of the few people he would give the full truth.
“Okay.” You sat at one of the pristine tables, sweeping some crumbs off of the surface. “Citadel needs to get new Avoxes to clean, I think the current ones have gone soft with their jobs.”
Coriolanus hummed absentmindedly, taking your non-injured hand. “Did you have a good meeting with Tanner earlier?”
Nodding, you explained how you got him to try and protect Lucy Gray, as much as you disliked the singer.
“Hopefully her district-mate won’t take that in the wrong way.” Coriolanus mumbled. “Hey, does your father still have that guitar he used to play?
Narrowing your eyes, you didn’t like where this was heading. “I believe so. Why?”
“Lucy Gray is going to sing at the interview, but she needs a guitar. It’s the only thing I could think of to get her sponsors.”
“She’s going to what?” You asked, confused. “Isn’t the purpose of the interview for the Capitol citizens to get to know the tributes? You know, to want to help them?”
Coriolanus retracted his hand from your own, shield going up. “We thought it would do better for her to sing. You saw how everyone reacted when she sang at the Reaping. She was the talk of the town.”
Frowning, you had to admit Coriolanus had a point. “I can ask if my father will let me use the guitar. But there’s no promises when he finds out what it would be used for.”
Coriolanus thanked you softly, eyes focusing on something behind you. “What time did Dean Highbottom say we were to go back to the arena?”
Turning around, you felt a bubble of anxiety when you saw the Peacekeepers at the entrance of the café. “Never said a specific time. I guess it’s now.”
Just as you two were standing up, Dean Highbottom called for the twenty-two remaining mentors to meet him and the Peacekeepers in the main hallway.
-break-
“Didn’t expect to come back here today.” Tanner said as you sat across from him once more.
“Nor I.” You replied, looking around with a careful eye. “Tanner, there are lots of hiding spots up in the stands. If you can get there quickly, you should be able to hide until some of the tributes are taken out.”
“You mean killed. Till they’re killed.” Tanner spat, frowning.
You quickly glanced at him, before diverting your gaze. “Y-yeah, I guess. Listen, you’ve already got some sponsors, so I’ll be able to supply you with water and some bread during the Games. But I won’t be able to send them unless I know where you-”
You were cut off as a number of explosions went off around the arena, sending everyone into a tizzy.
Tributes were running around, some trying to escape, others to hide. Peacekeepers were split between controlling the tributes and trying to evacuate the mentors, and the mentors themselves were making a break for the exits.
“Coryo!” You yelled, dodging some fallen rocks and marble.
You saw your boyfriend helping Lucy Gray out of a predicament, before his eyes met your own, and you saw them grow wide as dinner plates.
Before you could say anything else, you heard the beam above you break and grow closer and closer, feeling someone push you nearly out of harm’s way, but not completely.
-break-
Soft whispering was the first thing you heard, the smell of antiseptic the first thing you smelled.
There was a pressure on your hand, and you tried to squeeze it.
“Hey, hey can you hear me?”
Coriolanus, his hand was what you felt in your own.
“Tigris, can you get one of the nurses? I think she’s waking up.”
You tried with all your might to open your eyes, but regretted it as you were met with a rather bright overhead light.
Blinking a few times to adjust, you swallowed thickly, Coriolanus grabbing the water cup on the table to his side.
“Wh- what happened?” You croaked, voice raw.
“It was a rebel bombing.” Sejanus voiced from where he was walking into the room. “They must’ve been there for months.”
You didn’t know what to say, and Coriolanus was quiet, as well.
“Four tributes are dead. Felix Ravenstill is on life support.”
“Is Tanner ok?” You asked, looking between the two men. “Lucy Gray? Marcus? Are they okay, too?”
“Lucy Gray is fine, but Marcus is,” Coriolanus drifted off, looking back at his classmate.
“Marcus made a run for it.” Sejanus explained, frown on his face. “Peacekeepers are out looking for him, but he’s got a better chance out there than in that arena.”
You furrowed your brows, looking back at your boyfriend. “They’re still going on with the Games?”
Coriolanus nodded, and the light caught his face, causing you to gasp. “Coryo, are you okay?”
Before he could answer, Tigris came back into view, nurse in tow. “How are you feeling, Miss Rosewing?”
You paused before speaking, just now realizing how much pain you really were in. “I’m sore, but it’s fine.”
Coriolanus frowned, squeezing your hand.
The nurse nodded, eyes roaming the three people around your cot, stopping at Coriolanus. “You, young man, aren’t supposed to be out of your own bed. What are you doing over here?”
“I needed to make sure my girlfriend was okay. I feel fine.”
Your eyes trailed around Coriolanus’ body as he talked before coming to a stop at the faint bruising on his cheek.
The nurse hummed, attention falling back to you. “You sustained some of the worst injuries from the bombing. A broken rib or two and a punctured lung being the worst of it.”
That explained the pain you felt every time you took a breath.
“The doctors want to keep you here for a couple days for observation.” Tigris added, and you immediately shook your head, struggling to sit up.
“Easy, easy, don’t want to rip a stitch.” Coriolanus commanded softly, helping you adjust to a more upright position.
“I can’t stay here! I need to be at the Citadel, need to help Tanner, help Lucy Gray.” You looked between the nurse and your boyfriend, both with frowns on their faces.
The nurse thought best to leave the area, so she simply explained that it was only a recommendation that you stay, final decision was up to you.
“You should stay here. It’s safer.” Coriolanus spoke, glancing at the tv as Lucky Flickerman began interviewing Jessup.
Sejanus and Tigris both agreed with him. “Not to mention they have medication here that can help you with the pain.”
You fiddled with the hem of the sad excuse of a sheet covering your legs on the bed. “I’m not staying. I need- I need to try and get Tanner as far into the Games as he can go.”
“Love,” Coriolanus started, glancing up at the tv once more as Lucy Gray began to sing, before returning his attention to you. “Please, just stay here for the night.”
“No, Coriolanus.” You rarely used his full name, only when you were done arguing, and Coriolanus was no fool.
Tigris softly bid you two good night, promising to update Grandma’am on your conditions, and Sejanus walked her out.
You watched in the corner of the tv as Lucy Gray’s number of donations sky-rocketed, Coriolanus’ eye on the rise and fall of your chest.
“I’m sorry.”
Your quiet apology startled him, and his gaze shot to your own. “What for?” He whispered, elbows coming to rest on the side of the bed, lacing your hand in both of his own. “Unless you placed those bombs, you have nothing to be sorry for.”
Looking at his bruised cheek, you felt your eyes water. “I- Coryo, I need to help Tanner so he can help Lucy Gray. You need to win, Coyo.”
Coriolanus felt his heart swell, hand moving to caress your cheek. “I will, love. I will.”
“Can you stay over tonight? I don’t think I can be alone.”
Coriolanus nodded, pressing his lips to your hand. “Of course.”
-break-
You second-guessed your decision to leave the hospital as soon as you fully sat up, pain erupting throughout your abdomen. “Oh, okay, ow.”
Coriolanus paused, one hand hovering at your lower back, the other being held tightly be your own. “You okay?”
Nodding, you pressed your lips in a tight line. “Just peachy.”
“It’s not too late, you can still stay here.”
You shook your head, bracing yourself as you stood up. “Once I’m up it’ll be better.”
Coriolanus, not believing you for a second, bit his tongue as you carefully took a step forward. “You still feeling like this was a good idea?”
“Shut up, Snow.”
Coriolanus followed you as the dutiful boyfriend he was, thankful your father had sent the family’s private car, not wanting you to walk the miles it was back to your family residence.
“I think it’s time for a long, hot shower.” You mumbled, thankful to be sitting in the plush backseats of the vehicle.
Smiling, Coriolanus hummed in agreement, hand going to rest on your thigh. “I think that’s just what the doctor ordered.”
“No funny business tonight, though. Maybe once I can take a deep breath again.” You smiled, and Coriolanus felt a small weight lift off his shoulders, happy you were back to your teasing self even with the aftermath of the bombing.
a/n: idk if i'm gonna continue to write the rest of the games, we all know what happens lmao ,,, send requests loves
#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow imagine#coriolanus x you#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus snow#hunger games imagine#hunger games x reader#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#hunger games tbosas
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i have a request! write a story about hawks and reader going on one of those undercover missions and they have to act like a couple for a while and at first hawks makes a joke about it being like “bet you always wanted to do this” or about how cliche this is but reader knows his flirty habits and brushes it off. when the time comes reader is able to act like they’re in love with him so properly and he’s taken a back not being able to focus and gets all flustered by how real this seems. like this dude be over here all red and imagining shit.
❦ UNDERCOVER
cw: none, this is fluff
i love this trope, i also made this friends to lovers :)
“a couple, huh?” keigo adjusted the cuff links on his wrist before wiggling his eyebrows at you. “bet you always wanted t’do this.”
you let out a genuine laugh, one that always came to keigo’s mind when he thought of happiness.
“how’d you know, you a mind reader?” you played along.
the both of you shared a familiar smile as you walked into the casino. going undercover as a couple was not something hawks had in mind—or was really comfortable with—but if it had to be with anyone, he’s just glad it was you by his side.
having a friend at times like this is always nice.
“two o’clock.” you drew his eyes to the bar, where he saw the first obstacle to getting where you need to.
he held out his arm like a gentleman. “care for a drink?”
you looped your arm with his.
and that was the last coherent thought he had.
after that, your hands trailed so softly and so naturally along his arm, as if you’d been doing it for years and it was a subconscious habit. yet you spoke to the people in front of you without even looking at him, it was as if your fingers memorized his skin. it was like an instinct for you, but it made his hairs and feathers stand on end. goosebumps littered his skin and he was pretty sure that he had turned to stone.
then you let out that laugh you always did. he’d heard it at least a thousand times, but it sounded hypnotic in the moment. his breath caught in his throat, and then you killed him.
your fingers pushed his hair behind his ear, and your soft lips placed a chaste kiss to his temple. “no matter how long we’ve been together, he still has the same reaction.”
you spoke to the people in font of you, but you smiled up at him with eyes full of such obvious love—even he could tell. and he thinks that one of the other people present waved you to continue to the vip lounge, but he was so out of it when you took his hand to guide him that he’s pretty sure there was steam coming off the top of his head from combusting.
in the hallway you turned to him, dropping all physical contact, save for the two knocks you harshly let out on the top of his head.
“keigo, you okay?” you asked.
and your eyes were no longer filled with that love he saw just a couple minutes ago, but rather with concern that was more appropriate for the situation.
the only noise he could muster was a bird-like squeak.
“your face is completely red.” your eyes trailed over him, worry not leaving your features. your hand came up to his forehead, patting around to feel the heat.
“marry me.” he said.
you froze.
you held eye contact.
then you let out that beautiful laugh of yours, and it seemed to bring him back to reality.
“i guess you’re feeling better.” you said and looped your arms again.
he let you lead him to the next stop.
he decided then that the words he spoke were true—he was going to marry you.
#mha fluff#mha imagines#mha x reader#mha hawks#bnha hawks#hawks x you#hawks fluff#hawks x y/n#hawks x reader#hawks headcanons#mha takami keigo#takami keigo x reader#keigo x reader#keigo x y/n#keigo fluff#keigo takami#takami keigo
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I love your fics so much! Could you maybe write one where reader is very insecure about being on her period because her past boyfriends were grossed out by it but Pedro is just being the sweetest. Like maybe bleeding through on his bed and freaking out and apologizing but Pedro is just being sweet about it?
I think I got this request a while ago also for joseph quinn, which makes me wonder how many awful men you have encountered in your life babes
The sun shined through the open window as a gentle gust of wind tussled your hair, waking you from a peaceful sleep.
You felt something on your chest, and as you opened your eyes, found Pedro's hand and arm shamelessly extended on it.
He always wanted to keep you close, even in the middle of summer.
You soaked in the feeling for a moment, breathing in a slow breath as you let your eyes travel over to his figure.
A small smile involuntarily drew itself on your lips as you took in his puffy eyes and gaped mouth as he slept like a baby.
A smile that grew wider as you recalled how he once told you that he had always had trouble sleeping, but since he slept in bed with you, he had never had that problem again.
he had told you so casually, like it was nothing, but each time you watched him sleep, his words came back to melt your heart.
You wiggled under the thin blanket, trying to get rid of it as the heat started getting to you, but just as you did, you couldn't help but freeze as your eyes focused on the white blanket covering the mattress.
There was a red stain. Right between your legs. right on the fucking bed. His fucking bed.
Shit.
shitshitshit
No this can't be it, your period wasn't supposed to come for another three days, what the fuck?
"fuck" you absentmindedly cursed, as your eyes filled with panic.
What the fuck am I gonna do now?
"good morning to you too" Your boyfriend's voice startled you.
Nonono
You turned around to find a lazy grin on his lips.
"g-good morning" you gulped, your mouth suddenly dry.
He must have still been a little asleep because he didn't notice your tone as he leaned up to give you a quick kiss, but once you didn't reciprocate, too much in your head to do anything but wish to disappear, then he asked:
"what's wrong?"
Oh god
To say you wanted to run away was an understatement.
"I-" you squeezed your eyes shut, praying to however was listening to make this all disappear.
"what? What happened" his eyes wrinkled with worry.
"I just..." you let your eyes set to where the stain was, and he followed your glare.
"I'm sorry" you whispered, suddenly not able to talk in more than a thread of voice "I'm-I'm so sorry baby, I'll clean it up right away- I just- It wasn't supposed to come already" you muttered "I'm so sorry, please don't be mad"
His silence was killing you, and once he raised his head to look at you again, your heart began to race as you waited for his inevitable disgusted reaction.
"mad?"
Why did he sound genuinely confused?
"I-yes, I just... I know it's kind of... gross"
And there it was again, a confused frown persisted on his face.
"What are y- Baby what are you talking about?" he asked, his tone gentle, like he was honestly asking "It's not gross, and I'm definitely not mad" A smile pulled at his lips "Why would I be? It's normal, it's-human"
what?
Your brain couldn't comprehend his words
"w-what?"
His smile got wider as one of his hands reached up to stroke your cheek "Sweetheart why would I be mad that you got your period? It doesn't make any sense"
A breath got caught in your throat "A-are you being serious?"
"yes" he promised, smiling "Of course I am baby"
"oh" you breathed "I just- I thought you would have been grossed out by it"
"I could never be grossed out by anything concerning you, angel" he promised, his eyes boring into yours "I love you way too much for that" he smirked, kissing your cheek.
"Now let's go have a shower so I can help you get cleaned up"
"b-but what about the bed?"
"I'll worry about the bed later. Let's go" he continued, getting up from the bed and settling in front of you.
"c'mon" he urged with grabby hands
You accepted his invitation and got up with his help.
"thank you" you said
"for what?"
"Just...for being you"
And to that, he laughed softly
"anytime, sweetheart"
#queuing is my fav sport#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal blurb#pedro pascal fluff#pedro pascal x fem reader#pedro pascal one shot#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal x female reader#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal fanfiction#joel miller#the last of us#tlou#the mandalorian#javier peña#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x y/n#fluff#daddy pascal#pedro pascal imagine#pedrohub#Pedro Pascal#jose pedro balmaceda pascal#pedrito
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Jess Mariano SMUT: The best friend and the boyfriend.
POV: Your best friend Rory always gets what she wants as the town’s golden girl. Well, you have had enough and its time you get what you want.
WARNINGS: 18+ (minors dni); cheating; rory slander; lorelai slander; p in v intercourse; dirty talk; unprotected sex; light choking - i think that is it
AUTHOR’S NOTE: wasn’t enough jess smut for me on here. Wanna fix that! first time writing anything so please be gentle. 2k+ words
You’re at Luke’s diner trying to get some work done before your exam tomorrow. The wetness inbetween your legs was proving a great distraction to the task at hand. You had to muster every ounce of concentration to listen to what Lane and Rory were saying. The three of you were finishing up your group project for school. You had all been friends for years, but recently you had found it hard to be yourself around them.
The reason for that, was standing behind the counter, serving customers with a surly look and a quippy comment if he spoke at all. Jess.
The whole town knew about him and Rory. How could they not? Stars’ Hollows’ golden girl drew attention wherever she went. Her and Dean’s romance had been the talk of the town - the stuff of young love! And she could do no wrong. Even after she dragged Dean through hell and back with her indecisiveness before ultimately bringing him to breaking point - people still loved her.
And hey - you did too. She was your best friend. But you couldn't help but roll your eyes at the way the town fawned over her. Even though it had been happening your whole lives. Rory and her busybody, try-hard mother were the apple of the town’s eyes. And you were used to it.
But you had been surprised that Jess had fallen for it. When he arrived in town, a sullen and brooding figure, you had immediately felt drawn to him. You could sense his angst. You could feel it vibrating off of him. And lets not pretend like he wasn’t a total smokeshow. He looked like a man.
If only Lorelai and Luke weren’t so close. Then you might have gotten your chance. But as fate had it, and as it always seemed to, Rory got in there first. Lorelai invited Luke and Jess over for a welcome dinner, and he instantly became smitten with Rory’s mild manner. It only took a matter of months - and a breaking of one Dean Forrestor’s heart - until they became an item.
At first it was all rosy. Rory wouldn’t shut up about it. But you could tell. Something wasn’t quite right. Two months passed and Rory would go red every time Jess was brought up, or came to sit with your group at lunch. You asked Rory - genuinely as a friend. She would just mumble and divert the subject. Lane also pressed, but there was no budging Miss Gilmore.
It was only a month ago when you cottoned on to what the problem was. You had been wearing jeans that hugged your ass, and a top that teased just enough of your cleavage to make anyone blush. You bumped into Jess in the hallway at school. As in, physically bumped into him, as he came around the corner. He grabbed onto you out of instinct to apologise.
“Oh hi Y/N. What are you….” His eyes trailed down to your chest. You didn’t notice at first. You thought he was dazed by the surprise interaction.
“Just on my way to Spanish. Señora Castilla is making us do a book report - I’m doing 100 years of Solitude.”
“Hmm” he responded. “That’s one of my favourites. Magical realism, love, scandal - “
And then you clock. His eyes are on your tits. His hand is still on you. On the small of your back.
This man is hungry. He hasn’t been laid or anything of the sort in a while. Or at least since he has been with Rory. Jess wants you. You avert your gaze.
“Jess. I have to go.”
He moved his hand lower, testing the waters. You don’t remove it. You inhaled, trying to retain your morals. You remind yourself: We’re in the middle of the hallway. At school. He is Rory’s boyfriend. Rory is my best friend.
You repeated these over and over to yourself like a mantra, willing yourself to move. After what seems like an eternity, he whispers in your ear: “My car. 10 minutes,” and sauntered away.
And that was how it began. A whole month of some of the steamiest makeout sessions, hottest sex, and best orgasms of your life. Did the secrecy turn you on? Maybe. Did you feel bad for Rory? Perhaps. But were those moments with Jess worth it? Absolutely.
You had to be careful. Not just to avoid Rory and Lane. But Luke couldn’t know either. If he did, he would have gone straight to Lorelai and it would have been a whole thing. It wasn’t worth it. So the two of you would sneak in quickies in his car, behind Miss Patty’s studio, in the AV room at school etc.
But Luke was out tonight. Doing something for Lorelai probably. Who knows. Jess had suggested the two of you take advantage of the situation. He had recently acquired his own room at Luke’s, ever since his uncle had knocked a hole in the wall for him. It wasn’t much, but you couldn’t wait to share a bed with him, and take your sweet time worshipping his body.
“Okay Y/N, we’re off. You coming?” Asked Lane.
“Nah, I have a bunch more work to do for my college application. I will see you both tomorrow?”
Rory went over to give Jess a kiss goodbye. You couldn’t help but smirk as you saw him looking at you as she kissed his cheek. The two girls waved goodbye and left the cafe.
The minute they left, Jess pounced on your table. He summoned Cesar to take over his shift and close up.
“Cmon baby” he whispered, taking care not make it look obvious to the other customers what was going on.
You and Jess went up the stairs silently but quickly. The minute you reached the top flight and opened the door into the living quarters, Jess slammed the door shut and pressed you against it.
“Do you know how bad you are? Sitting right next to my girlfriend and giving me those ‘fuck me’ eyes all night? It was all i could do not to take you on the table right there.”
His forehead was against yours, his hands cradling your face. All you could see was him. All you could feel was him.
“Such a good boy for restraining yourself,” you cooed, trying lure him into making the first move. Each time you were together, it still felt like new. A game of chicken. Who would break first? Fresh and dangerous, yet familiar and comforting all at once. “It must have been so hard for you” you said, moving your hand towards his crotch. “Show me how much you want me” you dared.
It was too much for him. He growled and leant in to kiss you with everything he had. He was messy and sloppy with need. His teeth clashed against yours. You moaned with need. Your hands wandered to your waist, dipping under your trousers, then your panties. You started playing with your clit and panting his name back into his mouth.
You were still against the door. Jess moved his hands under your shirt, finding the valley of your chest easily as you hadn’t worn a bra today.
“Fuck” he said, breaking the kiss. “You had your tits out all day baby girl? You are such a slut, wanting everyone to notice.”
Before you could begin to formulate a reply, his mouth was on your left nipple. You sighed as he sucking with such fervour. Just as you got used to the sensation enough to say something witty to him, he bit down hard. You yelped - this was a new move from him. He obviously felt emboldened by the new setting, being in his own territory and out of a car.
Jess went to your right nipple, sucking and making the most obscene slurping noise and his hand went to your other tit. It was too much. It felt too good. You started playing with your clit with even more until he finally noticed.
“That’s my job Y/N. Its not like you to be so selfish!“ he scolded. He grabbed both your wrists and pressed himself into you, letting you feel his bulge. You whimpered at the loss of your fingers inside your wet cunt and pouted at him. He brought your fingers to your mouth.
“Suck” he said, with a devious glint in his eyes. Like a fucking wet wipe, you did as he said. You were embarrassed at first, but didn’t care. You would do anything he said at this point.
When he was satisfied you had fully cleaned your fingers, he took them out your mouth and kissed you hard and hungrily on the lips.
You saw you opportunity to the turn the tables, to take power. “Jess?” You asked innocently.
“Hmm?” He responded, trailing kisses down your neck.
“The whole point of tonight is that we have a bed for once. Let’s make the most of it.” You pushed him off you and took his hand. You walked past the door to his bedroom. He stopped you and looked at you confused.
“Oh Jess. I don’t wanna be fucked in your single bed. I want to feel all of you” you whispered in his ear, guiding him to Luke’s room and king-sized bed.
His eyes widened with realisation and need. Was this a bad idea? Almost certainly. Did he care? At this point, not even wild horses could stop him from having you. He would do anything you said. And he had to admit, there was something hot about doing it somewhere he shouldn’t.
You pushed Jess onto Luke’s bed, unzipped his jeans and pulled down his boxers. His cock sprung up immediately. It was red, throbbing and angry. You couldn’t help but drool. Jess saw this and smirked. He knew what he did to you. He pulled off his shirt, knowing it would drive you crazy.
You dived onto his cock, unable to wait any longer. You took all of him in his mouth, as he held your head there. His pubic hair tickled your nose. You stayed there for as long as possible, until your eyes watered. You took your head off, wiped your mouth, and then began bobbing up and down slowly.
Jess propped himself up on his elbows, watching you like a hawk. His tongue was sticking out as he concentrated his breathing to stop himself from blowing his load. His dark curls were pressed wet against his forehead as beads of sweat started to roll down his face.
You moved to his balls, gently sucking them into your mouth while your hand moved up and down on his rock hard member. He started moaning and rocked his hips into your hands, desperate for more.
You had him right where you wanted him. You removed yourself from him completely and clambered to sit on top of him. His cock was nestled in your folds. So close to where he wanted to be. So close to where you wanted him to be. But you decided the chase was more fun. You lowered yourself down, so that your tits were pressed against his chest.
You whispered “Can Rory make you feel this way, Jess? Does she drive you wild like I do? Can she make you moan like a bitch the way I can? Has she ever made your cock this hard?” You punctuated each sentence with a nip on his ear.
“Fuck you,” he replied, grabbing your ass and turning you onto your back so that he was on top. He pushed himself into you and started fucking you with no mercy.
Your tits were bouncing with every thrust and you were whimpering with need every time he pulled out. You snaked your arms around his back, pulling him deeper into you. You didn’t want any space between you.
“You’re such a whore Y/N. Fucking your best friend’s boyfriend. I can’t believe it turns you on so much.”
You moaned at this words, unable to deny the appeal of the whole situation.
“Fuck baby, I can feel your cunt clenching around me as i say that! You are a fucking whore Y/N, squeezing me with your greedy pussy. Such a bad fucking girl.” Jess yelps, spanking your ass.
“I am a whore Jessy, your whore, only for you” you cried, embarrassed by your pathetic display. He grinned as you used the nickname you only brought out for him when you were cock drunk beyond belief. You groaned inwardly as you couldn’t believe you had given him the satisfaction of that ego boost.
You were lost completely in Jess. He moved his hand down to your core, adding a finger into your weeping pussy, and using his thumb to toy with your clit. It was bliss.
“Jessy?” You called out.
“Hmm?” He groaned in response.
“I want you to cum inside me” you begged.
His eyes widened as a wild look came over him. Without missing a beat, he swung your legs over his shoulders and bent you in two as he fucked into you harder than before. His hand moved to your throat, gently choking you. You stuck your tongue out like a dog in heat - animalistic and beyond a care as to what was normal.
The bed’s headboard was hitting the wall with every thrust from Jess’ pelvis, sure to cause a suspect dent tomorrow. But neither of you could have given a single fuck as the you both chased your highs. The sound of skin slapping, moans and gasps were obscene.
“Jess, have you seen Luke’s toolbox? We need it and he said it might be - Oh my god!”
You both froze and turned to the door. Lorelai was face to face with you and Jess butt naked on Luke’s bed. Sorry - lets rephrase that. Lorelai walked in on her daughter’s boyfriend and best friend fucking raw on Luke’s bed.
She narrowed her eyes and hissed: “Get the fuck out.”
#jess mariano#gilmore girls#milo ventimiglia#gilmore girls smut#jess mariano smut#literati#lorelai gilmore#jess x reader#jess mariano x reader#jess mariano x y/n#jess mariano imagine#jess imagine#gilmore girls imagine
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Hey anon! I love the idea, thanks for your request <3
Just us
pairing ⁀➷ henry cavill x fem!reader
word count ⁀➷ 2.2k
summary ⁀➷ up in the ask
warnings ⁀➷ age gap (reader is in early 20’s, henry is 38), pure fluff, drunk Henry (but not in a bad way?), H/F means Henry's Friend, paparazzi
a/n ⁀➷ thanks for the request anon this was a blast to write!
Since an anon pointed this out to me; („paparazzi get called and scheduled“) they can also get their information about the whereabouts of a celeb from bartenders, spotters, etc… Please remember that I write fiction and not everything is like real life 100% of the time 🫶
Here’s my h.c. playlist
🥤my kofi if you’d like to leave a tip🩷
The night was truly not as you would have imagined it to be.
„Henry... c'mon bear, let's go home." you said, trying to get him off the barstool.
„You look beautiful.“ He slurred in your ear.
Goosebumps immediately spread over your entire body. You quickly kissed the corner of his lips, "Thanks. You look terribly handsome though, even drunk.“ you whispered with a chuckle, „That should be illegal."
His hands wandered to your hips, his fingers tracing shapes all the way up to your bra.
Henry was drunk as hell, and you had to get him home now before he did something in public, that he would regret later.
Luckily, one of his mates had your number and texted you about half an hour ago.
H/F: Hey Y/N can you please pick Henry up? We might have had a little too much of…. everything...
You: I'm on my way
You instantly hoped that there would be no press around.
You couldn't use paparazzi now, but they kind of always knew where Henry was. At any time of the day… or night.
Henry's friend had sent you the address of the club right after your last message.
Usually Henry wasn't someone who partied much. You spent your weekends together on the couch, walking Kal, or cooking together. But who never went out partying on a weekend?
"Kal?" you peeked through the door into the living room. His head lifted from his big dog bed, and he looked at you, panting.
"I'm going to pick up Daddy, will you watch the house while I'm gone?" Excitedly, he wagged his tail when he trotted to you as if confirming it to you to watch out. Lovingly, you petted him behind his ears. "I won't be gone for long."
"Alright." You muttered to yourself as the car came to a hold. You thanked the cab driver who would wait for you, and got out at the back entrance of the club. You wouldn't have found a parking space in front of the club by car, so the cab was clearly the better option.
Fortunately, it wasn't very busy, and you couldn't see any paparazzi. You took your ID out of your pocket and immediately received a few strange looks from the security guards. Sure, probably very few people came here in jeans, a hoodie and sneakers.
The club was loud and sweaty, and you could feel the bass of the music pulse through your body.
Just then you realized that you didn't know where they were, and the club was quite big, so you texted Henry's friend again.
You: I'm here, where are you?
H/F: At the bar, you have to get to the back of the club
You: Thanks
Making your way through the crowd, you began to sweat in your hoodie but couldn't take it off unless you wanted to walk around in only your bra, which you obviously didn't. You saw them just a moment later, all of them looking rather drunk. A chuckle left your lips when you saw Henry on a bar stool, resting his elbow on the counter. He was clearly drunk as hell. You wondered how they managed not to get the attention of the whole club by now, usually wherever Henry went the people recognized him. Right when you thought that, two girls walked up to them.
Henry didn't even see them, too interested to get the bartender's attention for another drink. His friends did though, just for the two girls to tap Henry's shoulder and flash him a flirty smile. He turned around by the sudden touch and drew his brows together. You couldn't hear what they were saying, but you grinned when he pursed his lips, shaking his head with raised brows.
He removed the girl's hand off of his arm, and his friends suppressed a laugh.
Just then, you finally reached them and immediately caught Henry's attention. „Hi, boys.“ you greeted his friends, and immediately got smiles and waving hands back.
„Excuse me, if you'd be so nice…“ You dryly said and squeezed past the girls, „l'm going to get this drunk mountain of a man home.“
„And who are you?" One of them asked with a deprecating look, eyeing you up and down.
„Mine." Henry answered for you. He grabbed the hem of your hoodie and pulled you to his chest. „Hey baby.” He purred as he put his big hands on your cheeks and kissed you.
You could taste the alcohol on his lips but didn't mind one bit. His curls were tousled, and you wanted to run your hands through them, to make them even messier. And as much as you wanted to keep kissing him, you broke away from him.
Henry still had his hands on your cheeks.
Your hands went to his and gently withdrew them from your cheeks. "You need a bed." you laughed lightly.
"Only if you are part of the bed too." He grinned and you shook your head, giggling. "Not today, Cavill."
Henry grimaced, „C'mon baby…..please".
„How old are you anyway?" one of them interrupted the two of you. „Yeah, are you even allowed into a club?" the two girls were still giving you deprecating looks,
„I'm old enough, thanks for your concern." you tried your best to sound as nice as you could.
„Henry... c'mon bear, let's go home." you said, trying to get him off the barstool.
„You look beautiful." He slurred in your ear. Goosebumps immediately spread over your entire body.
You quickly kissed the corner of his lips, "Thanks. You look terribly handsome though, even drunk.“ you whispered with a chuckle, „That should be illegal."
His hands wandered to your hips, his fingers tracing shapes all the way up to your bra. „Stop that." you lightly chuckled. Your hands softly grabbed his and removed them from your sides. „You can do that at home. When you're sober." you whispered into his ear, knowing damn right what it would do to him.
You turned to Henry's friend who had texted you, „Thank you." you chuckled, and he just raised his glass with a smile and nodded.
„Alright, let's go." you chuckled and took Henry's large hand. „Night, boys.
"They all gave an almost harmonic, and drunken, "Ciao, y/n", which made you laugh.
On your way out, you could still feel the gazes of the two girls on your back.
The same security guards that eyed you for your unusual choice of clothes when you entered the club, were now giving you the same looks. Not because of your clothes, though. You and Henry's hands were intertwined as you two exited the club, and he continued whispering sweet nothings into your ear.
You knew that look, it wasn't the „Omg, look that's Henry Cavill!“ , but rather the „She must at least be 15 years younger than him." look.
And even though there were almost 17 years between you and Henry, you looked even younger than you really were. Something the press absolutely loved, of course.
The moment you and Henry walked out of the club, you were greeted by blinding lights, dozens of shouting paparazzi.
Henry's grip on your hand tightened and no matter how drunk he was, he immediately switched to being your protector.
Almost everyone with a camera shouted his name, the few without were shouting various questions;
„How much younger is she?"
„Is this your girlfriend, Henry?"
„Who is she?"
„What's the name of the girl, Henry?"
And so much more that got lost in all the voices and shouting.
Henry let go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulder, protecting you from the paparazzi. „Give us some space, goddamn." you could hear how he tried not to sound as drunk as he really was. And you loved him even more for doing his best to keep you safe even when he wasn't feeling his best.
He pressed you against his chest and continued mumbling complaints.
Normally Henry was one of the most polite celebrities you knew, he smiled and gave them answers most of the time, but today they were definitely crossing a line.
He didn't stop walking, nor taking his arm from your shoulder when he grabbed the hood on your hoodie and pulled it down to shelter your face from them. In all the hectic and flashlights, you totally forgot that you could do that. Which once more showed that Henry might have been drunk, but he was still your protector, no matter what.
You helped him by guiding the way to the cab, still waiting for you outside the club. The paparazzi were following you until both of you got in, the car door shutting out their questions and the sounds of clicking cameras. „Fuck, I'm sorry, peaches."
„It’s fine, Hen. Don’t worry about it.“
Last night when you had made it home, Kal was impatiently waiting for you two. Whenever you didn't come home with Henry, which got rarer with each week, he got quite confused why his new mommy wasn't coming home with his dad.
Who was absolutely wasted right now. When he hit the soft bed, a moan left his mouth. „Wait a second before you fall asleep." you giggled, „l'll be right back." With Kal by your side, you went downstairs into the kitchen, getting Henry a glass of water and ibuprofen.
„Look at him, Kal." the dog looked at his dad and back up to you. A snort escaped your mouth. The mattress sank down next to Henry. „Babe... Hen." you lightly caressed his cheek. „It's better to take them now."
His eyes opened only so much to see you, he groaned but took the glass and the pill out of your hand.
You heard the door to the living room open and close, your head turning in Henry's direction. He blinked a few times, probably because the sun was still brightly illuminating the room. You looked up at him from were you were sitting on the floor, scratching Kal behind his ears, while Henry approached you. „Morning, bear." you smiled at him.
„Good morning, peaches." The sight of you and Kal together in his home was one of the things Henry loved the most. Thus, why he always wanted you to stay at his, so much so that it wouldn't take him much longer to ask you to move out of your own apartment.
He sat down on the couch behind you and patted his broad tights. He hugged your waist as you snuggled up to him, one leg draped over his thigh. „Thanks for the painkillers." he mumbled into your hair, breathing in the scent.
They smelled like peaches, and more so like home. „lt's an old trick my cousin told me about. The headaches are much less painful if you take them at night first and then again in the morning." you grinned at him. Henry kissed your forehead, keeping his lips there a little longer.
„l love you." he whispered.
„I love you too." your hands rested on his muscular chest. You just laid there for some time, Kal sleeping on his dog pillow, and listening to the birds singing outside.
„I bet the pictures are everywhere by now.”
You raised your head to look at him. A heavy breath escaped your lungs and Henry stroked your hair.
„Let them talk." you said.
„Who are they to tell us what to do and whom to date? Martin Freeman is married to Rachel Mariam, and she is 21 years younger than him." you played with Henry's fingers, „it's not like l'm underage.” Henry chuckled at your comparison.
„But you know what you are?" Henry asked with a soft smile. You propped yourself up on his chest, „What?"
„You are the woman I love. You are the only one I will ever love and the one I want to call the mother of my children. You," he stopped and looked at you with a look of pure love, „You're all I want."
With that, he had taken all the air from your lungs. Your mouth was slightly open and tears began to run down your cheeks.
"Oh baby, don't cry." Henry grinned as he wiped the tears from your cheeks.
"How am I not supposed to cry?" you sniffled. "That was the most beautiful thing I've ever been told. And all those things, everything, I want all those things with you and only you."
As if Kal had been waiting for his moment, he put his head on Henry's thigh, looking at both of you. You giggled as you gently stroked his snout. "You too, Kal."
“l'm glad they know." Henry whispered to your hairline.
„Me too."
He wrapped his hands around you and pressed you back against his chest. His warmth wrapped around you like a blanket, and slowly your eyes closed.
Henry took out his phone to take a picture of the three of you, Kal on his pillow, you asleep on his chest. One of your hands rested on his torso while the other was resting under your head. He smiled at the picture. The sun was still shining into the room, painting everything in a golden light.
With the caption „Just us" he posted the picture. Confirming it to the whole world.
༄ Don't copy, translate or republish any of my works on any app or other platform please. I only post my work on Tumblr and Wattpad.
Reposts are always appreciated, they really make my day🧡
#e writes#henry cavill imagine#henry cavill fluff#henry cavill fic#henry cavill x fem!reader#henry cavill x reader#henry cavill#rp fic#real person fiction#henry cavill imagines#drunk henry#kal#fluff#requests#em's masterlist
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In Memory of Him | It's Cold In Here
↳ Florist!Taehyung x Artist!f.Reader
⤜ Non-Idol, Late Husband's Best Friend
⤜ Rating: MA 🔞
⤜ WC: 13,558
⚠️ Mild language, death/loss of a loved one, deep depression, high anxiety, loads of guilt, hidden feelings, realizations, hurt feelings, repressed feelings, hurt/comfort
Next Chapter⇾ (coming soon!)
◅ Back to story masterlist
With trembling fingers, you smooth out the letter that you found attached to a bundle of flowers on your doorstep.
To the love of my life, For after the funeral
Take a deep breath, baby, I know it’s not easy. Even as I sit and write this, I can feel your energy in the next room. You’re always such a worrier, I’m sorry I’ve added to that. It’ll all be better soon, I promise. But, I know you and I know that you’ll pull away, you’ll cut yourself off…and we can’t have that, now can we? You have to keep going if we’re to stay connected even after I’m gone.
So, here’s the first of a collection of some things that you can hold and look back on when the storm starts to roll in. There are only so many words in existence to describe what you mean to me. So, instead of words, I want you to remember these feelings:
Warmth - like the sun on your face while you read a great book
Satisfaction - the way you sigh softly after a good, lazy day in bed
Contentment - waking up with a smile on your face every morning
Peace - that moment of quiet before the rain starts, when the scent of petrichor filters in
These are all the things you’ve brought into my life the last seven years. I’ve never been able to look at the sun, sleeping, smiles, or storms the same. Never did I imagine I’d meet and marry such a beautiful, kind-hearted soul with a genuinely unique outlook on life. I never had to be reminded to smile because it just came so naturally whenever you were around. You have brought so much light into my world and gave me the best years of my life. You also gave me Sujin, the perfect little replica of myself even if you think he looks more like you than me (I secretly agree, but that’s not something I’ll admit outloud). When I look at our wonderful son, I’m reminded of the beauty that first drew me to you all those years ago. Being his father is the second greatest achievement of my life, the first being making you fall madly in love with me…don’t laugh, you know it’s true. Many people see things in black and white, a beginning and an end…but our life isn’t like that. We’re full of color and everything in between. You’ve supported me at my best and have loved me at my worst. Everything good in my life is because of you. I know you’ll always love me, and I know it won’t be easy once I’m gone, but I need you to promise me you’ll continue to wake up with that smile on your face and never forget how the sun feels or how beautiful the quiet before the storm is. I need my light, my girl, to keep going. Be that guiding light so I know exactly where you are in the world as I watch over you and Sujin. We knew forever wasn’t guaranteed, that’s just the way life is, right? This doesn’t mean it’s over, not by a long shot. You still have so much more to give, so much more love to offer.
I know you’d never forget about me, that’s not what this letter is for—it’s not a reminder of me, it’s a reminder to live, love, and keep shining. There are more where this came from, Taehyung has them and knows what to do, but not until you’re ready for them. I love you so much, never stop living—for me, for Sujin…for you.
Love forever,
Your Yejun
The letter crumples in your fist, the bundle of hibiscus and lavender it was attached to forgotten on the step between your feet as you bury your face in the crook of your elbow and scream. It’s better that way—the symbolism of the hibiscus flower on a letter from Yejun is a punch to the gut when he’s no longer here. Eternity? Bullshit. The sound is muffled into the thick wool of your coat but no less filled with agony. As if the day wasn’t hard enough, everything went belly-up when you found the flowers and the letter on your door step. You choke on a breath of air as you try to control yourself.
“Yejun.” His name drips from your trembling lips, absorbed into your jacket sleeve like your cries. “I miss you so much. Why did you have to leave us?”
A hand on your shoulder makes you flinch, jerking away from the potential comfort, despite it being exactly what you need right now. You crowd against the wall, knees knocking into one another as you huddle in on yourself where you’re sitting in the stairwell outside your apartment door.
“Hey, hey, hey, come here,” a strong, soothing voice coos. Your limbs protest weakly for a moment, your heart raging with guilt at the prospect of finding solace in another man’s arms—even if that man is Taehyung, your now late husband's best friend—but the desperate need for someone to hold your pieces together wins out. You fear if you let yourself truly break, you’ll never be able to be made whole again. You frantically launch into those open arms, keening a wail into the solid chest between them. “Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”
💔💔💔
Two years later
“Mommy, are we going to Uncle Tae’s house today?” Sujin asks from behind you, where he’s strapped into his booster seat.
You glance in the rearview mirror, angling yourself so you catch a glimpse of his smile as he stares out the window, patiently awaiting your answer. It’s gotten easier over the last two years to look at him without growing weepy. He looks like and reminds you so much of Yejun. They have the same chestnut-colored eyes and floppy midnight tresses. When he smiles, the tiny dimple on his left cheek is a near mirror to his father’s and something that your eyes seek out every time he flashes you a grin. Little pieces of his father that fill the gaps in your heart.
“Did you not want to stay at Grandma’s tonight? That’s what you said you wanted yesterday,” you remind him.
Sujin hums like he’s thinking hard about your question. “Well, I did want to go to Grandma’s, but I also want to see Uncle Tae, and plus, he always has good ice cream. All Grandma has is boring vanilla.”
“How about we see if Uncle Tae wants to hang out this weekend? I think Grandma would be sad if you decided not to stay with her tonight.”
In truth, you’d also be a bit disappointed if Sujin changed his mind. Being only four when his father passed, he doesn’t remember Yejun much, mostly knows him from photos and stories he’s heard. So, it’s not surprising he’s not able to put together that today is the second anniversary of his father’s passing. He doesn’t know that tonight isn’t just about your mom getting a visit. It’s also about you having an evening to grieve without being under your son's watchful and inquisitive eye.
Though maybe you’re wrong, perhaps he knows more than you think as he responds softly, “It’s okay, Mommy, I’ll stay with Grandma so you can go visit Daddy.”
If it wasn’t for tightening your grip on the steering wheel, you might have driven right off the highway. “You know what today is?” you ask hesitantly once your initial shock passes.
“Of course I do,” Sujin says with another smile, his dimple catching in the afternoon sunlight coming in through the car window. “I might not remember him, but I could never forget him.” It’s a wonder there aren’t more six-year-old poets, as what he just said is easily the most eloquent thing ever uttered by a child. Your heart swells, and you feel that telltale burn in the back of your nose and behind your eyes as you blink away the flood of emotions threatening to spill into the open.
You nod, taking a deep breath. “That’s right. He’d be so proud of you and how much you’ve grown.”
“He’d be proud of you, too, Mommy.”
It’s another blow, directly targeting the cracks already forming in your armor. Fissures zip and snap over the surface of the wall you’ve spent the last two years building. “Thank you, buddy. I love you,” you manage to get past the lump in your throat.
The rest of the car ride home is spent with Sujin telling you about his day at school and how one of his classmates snuck a salamander into the classroom after recess. You hum, haw, and laugh as he recounts the way the class reacted to the discovery of the amphibian.
It makes you feel lighter, listening to his words and hearing the clear whimsy his heart possesses as the salamander suddenly becomes a dragon and Sujin, the fearless knight that saved the teacher—the damsel in distress—by scooping it up and putting it in an empty lunch box.
“She said since I was so brave and such a good helper that I could go outside with Mr. Kim, the science teacher, and help him release it back into the wild,” he proudly proclaims. “Did you know salamanders like water? Mr. Kim said they’re kind of like frogs even though they look more like lizards.” Sujin continues on, spouting off facts he learned about the salamander from his science teacher.
It’s a short drive from the school to your apartment. You’ve often thought about moving, using some of the life insurance money from Yejun to buy you and Sujin a lovely place outside the city. But, your mom lives just a floor up, and it’s been convenient having someone so close to look after Sujin when you need them, like tonight.
Having your mom close by, not just as a babysitter but also as an emotional support outlet, has been a blessing and far outweighs the other feelings—the seemingly endless void that now lingers in place of your late husband. With that, though, you can’t help looking at your small apartment as more like a preservation of memories. It was the first place you and Yejun moved into after getting married. It’s the place you both brought Sujin home to when he was born. It’s still filled with so many memories…you’re not sure you want to leave—at least, not yet.
The building has no elevator, just several winding flights of steps right up the middle. “Go on up to Grandma’s. I’ll stop by with dinner before I leave. Remember, homework first before you play.”
Sujin gives you a beaming smile and nods his head in understanding before vaulting up the stairs, his strong six-year-old legs carrying him far faster than your own. You watch him disappear up the stairs—the last flash of his face so reminiscent of Yejun racing up those very same steps the day you moved in—followed by the familiar sound of your mother’s voice drifting out over and down the stairwell as she welcomes him into her space—a safe space, away from the looming cloud of darkness over you.
Knowing he’s occupied and cared for, you allow your mask to slip just a little. The weight on your shoulders eases as you let the emotional fatigue roll in and replace your typically calm and collected demeanor. Even after two years, it’s not gotten any easier when this particular day comes. The holidays are hard, sure. There are plenty of days where you find yourself feeling like it’s too much…but nothing truly compares to this day. It’s not filled with happy memories the way those other days are. It’s nothing but darkness. There is a constant ache in your chest, which is amplified when the calendar turns over, and you find yourself once again reliving that fateful day all over again.
You spent nearly every waking hour sitting beside Yejun, the uncomfortable, stiff hospital chair becoming your permanent perch. The ventilator was always loud, but the punching swoosh grew to be comforting because you knew that meant he was still there. All the lines and tubes hooked up to him made it look like a scene from one of those sci-fi films he enjoyed making you watch with him. Yejun was so full of life when you first met, many years before. But, the image stuck in your mind—the one you can’t seem to get rid of—is of him with sallow cheeks and pale, greyish lips, drained of life.
It’s weird to think of watching someone die. But that’s precisely what you did over the six months Yejun was in the hospital. The disease moved quickly, the cancer stealing your husband away bit by bit, and you were powerless to stop it. That’s probably one of the worst parts, the helpless feeling that no matter what you do, you can’t prevent it from happening. No amount of prayer, begging, or screaming would change it. He’d still die, just the same. Day by day, the best parts of the man you loved vanished, and by the end—you feel guilty even thinking the thoughts, so you push them out of your head.
After unlocking the door, you step into the quiet space of your apartment. Your shoes join the ones discarded by the door before you drop your purse on the small console table against the wall and make your way across the living room to the hall leading to the bedrooms. Sujin’s room is the first door. You peek inside to see that he had made up his bed before school this morning. You make a mental note to grab one of his chocolate popsicles from the freezer before dropping off dinner tonight. He deserves a little treat for being such a good kid.
The small single bathroom sits between Sujin’s room and the larger of the two bedrooms, the one you shared with Yejun for almost five years. You haven’t changed any of the decor. Everything is the same as it always has been, right down to the pillow on Yejun’s side of the bed. It took months before you mustered the courage to wash the pillow case and cried the entire time you stripped the pillow and plopped it in the washer.
The pillow was small fish compared to the closet. Going through all of Yejun’s clothes nearly took you out. Thankfully, Taehyung was there to help. You weren’t the only one that lost someone two years ago today. Taehyung and Yejun grew up together and worked together for the last dozen years, starting out as teens together at Taehyung’s parents' florist shop. They are—were—as close as brothers, and not just for the fact that Taehyung’s parents took Yejun in when his parents both passed, but because of their unbreakable bond—a bond nearly as strong as the one you had with Yejun.
Taehyung has been there for you whenever you’ve needed him since Yejun’s passing. All it takes is a phone call or a text message, and he drops everything for you. You try not to take advantage of it because you don’t want him sucked into your empty void any more than he already is. No grown man should be attached to a woman like that, especially when he has no obligation for it.
But, you must admit, it’s nice knowing he’s there…especially today. This is the one day of the year that you know you don’t have to text or call Taehyung for him to show up. His one promise to you. He’ll be there, waiting for you at the cemetery, just like he was last year.
You pull off your oversized t-shirt and worn jeans covered in splotches of paint from your time in the studio today. Once a well-known local artist, you haven’t been able to create anything worthwhile since Yejun passed. He would always joke about being your one true muse. It seems he wasn’t wrong. Everything you’ve been able to create in the last two years feels wrong, like it’s missing something.
The life insurance you received from Yejun has been more than enough to keep you and Sujin afloat. However, you feel like a failure having even to touch that money, even if it’s just to pay the bills. If you could just get your life together, you’d be able to provide for yourself and Sujin the way you once did—before everything happened. Shoving that line of thinking away, you focus on the here and now, just getting through the next handful of hours.
A quick shower later, and you’re dressed in a warm sweater and a clean pair of jeans with thick wool socks. It’s cold, winter having well and truly taken hold outside, but when the sun goes down, the bite from the wind grows more bitter. Grabbing the large, lidded bowl of beef stew you had cooking in the slow cooker all day. You wrap it in a dish towel to keep from burning your hands on the hot sides, snag a popsicle for Sujin, and make the short trip upstairs to your mom’s place.
“Hey, sweetheart,” your mom greets you when she opens the door. She’s gotten a lot more grey in her hair in the last year or so. The steel-colored strands stand out against her temples, framing her strong but still soft face. You used to think she looked too austere, but then you realized that was just the permanent mark of motherhood and time.
“Hi, Mom. Did Sujin get his homework done?” You follow your mom in, shutting and locking the door behind you as she ambles into the kitchen on the other side of the living room. Her apartment is a near mirror of your own, her second bedroom set up for Sujin as well.
“He finished a bit ago and wanted to break out the paints. Was nattering on about some sort of lizard, I think. He wanted to try to paint it,” she explains, putting the tea kettle on without needing to ask. Peppermint tea with a dollop of honey can fix even the worst of woes in her eyes. She’ll insist you have some just as she has any other time she can feel your darkness crowding in. You’ve grown to appreciate your mother's intuition, both for yourself and your son's sake.
“There was an incident involving a student bringing in a salamander at school, it seems. Sujin helped the teacher and was allowed to go out with Namjoon—Mr. Kim—to release it.” You recall the conversation in the car, your mother chuckling softly when you tell her about the salamander turning into a dragon.
She busies herself, packing the tea steeper with her own blend of mint tea. Tending the small garden of herbs and spices that she keeps on the fire escape off the living room, is how she spends most of her days since she retired a few years ago. Even in winter, she keeps a small plastic greenhouse over them, opening it just enough to care for them each day. “So, you’re on a first-name basis with that science teacher now?” she asks. You can tell she’s lightly probing, trying to figure out if there is anything more between you and ‘Mr. Kim’.
“I met him at the beginning of the year when we had parent-teacher meetings. He insisted I call him Namjoon, that’s all, Mom.”
Humming, she grabs the kettle just before it begins to whistle. “Still, he’s nice?” she asks, casting you a glance over her shoulder.
You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, wishing she’d not try to go down this path of questioning. You know she means well, but you’re just…you’re not ready to think about those things.
“He’s nice enough, Mom, I guess. It was just a slip of the tongue. I’m used to greeting him at drop-off in the mornings. It’s not—I don’t, it’s just being cordial, y’know? I’m not ready…” you trail off, hoping your mom picks up on what you’re trying to say so you don’t actually have to say it; not today.
Her free hand goes to her mouth, covering her frown. “Oh, sweetheart, I didn’t mean—you know I’d never, not like that. I’m sorry. Forgive an old fool for her loose words.”
“It’s okay, Mom, really,” you offer with a tight smile as you set the stew on the counter and pop the popsicle you brought for Sujin in the freezer.
She sets down the tea, the cup slightly trembling on the tiny saucer she serves it on. “I made some pajeon to go with the stew. It’s warming in the oven. Are you going to stay for dinner?” she asks, seeing that you need to move on from the previous subject.
You settle on one of the chairs at her small dining table, pick up the tiny teacup, and blow across the surface before taking a tentative sip. The mint is a cooling contrast to the heat of the liquid, coating your throat with a soothing sensation. The blooming sweetness of the honey lingers on your tongue, helping combat the intense punch of the minty flavor. It’s comforting. Reminds you of home.
“I’m not all that hungry. You and Sujin enjoy it. You’re sure you’re okay taking him to school tomorrow?” She gives you a fond smile and nods. “I’ll pick him up on my way home and we’ll come have dinner.”
“That’s fine, sweetheart.”
You finish off the tea, suppressing a grimace as it goes down a little too warm and nearly scalds your throat. The sun will be completely down soon, and you’d like to get to the cemetery before it’s too dark out. “I should get going. Just going to say hi to him real quick.”
Your mom watches you stand. Her eyes are hyper-focused on your face. “Okay, sweetheart,” she says slowly. It’s clear she wants to say more, but you’re glad she doesn’t push.
The room your mom has set up for Sujin has a small bed pushed into one corner, leaving the rest of the space for him to play—unlike his room at your place, which has a writing desk and dresser taking up the majority of the play space. He’s never complained, though, choosing to get creative with the small room he does have. “Hey, buddy, Grandma said you’re painting. Can I see?”
You lean on the door jamb, peering into the room. The easel Sujin is using is angled away from the door. All you can see is smears of bright color peeking around the edge of the canvas.
His bright eyes meet yours as he grins extra wide. “It’s not done yet, but of course you can see it.”
Stepping in and around the easel frame, you take in the canvas covered in paint. When your mom said he was going to paint the salamander, you knew there was a possibility of said ‘lizard’ being portrayed as a dragon as it was in Sujin’s story in the car. But what you didn’t expect were the characters surrounding the dragon. You count them, six in total. The brunette woman at the top of the castle tower is clearly Sujin’s teacher, Mrs. Min. Sujin himself is astride the dragon, and who you think is Namjoon stands in a corner near some trees, his large-frame glasses are what lead you to believe that’s who it is. The other three characters are where you’re a bit lost.
“Who are these people?” you ask, gesturing to the other feminine figure framed by two men; one with unruly black hair and the other with small angel wings extending from his shoulders. It dawns on you the moment you ask.
“That’s you, Daddy, and Uncle Tae, of course,” Sujin proudly states. “You were in the tower with Mrs. Min. I’m rescuing her, and Uncle Tae is rescuing you while Daddy guides him.”
You’re not sure what to say. But you can’t help looking at your son in a different light. He’s only six, but in moments like this, you feel like his soul is older and wiser than yours. “It’s lovely,” you finally say, because it truly is, and everything else you could say would definitely start the waterworks, and there will be enough of that later. “I’ll be back tomorrow to get you. Be good for Grandma. There’s a treat for you in the freezer, but only after dinner, okay?” You feel like you’re running away—and maybe you are, but the darkness creeps in just a little bit further the more you look at his painting.
“Yes, ma’am,” Sujin beams at you sweetly. He lifts his chin, angling a cheek in your direction for a kiss. You plant one there, throwing an arm around his back for a quick squeeze, too. “Love you, Mommy.”
“Love you, too, buddy,” you murmur, shoving down the suffocating feeling bubbling in your chest—just need to make it a few more hours.
💔💔💔
The cemetery is about an hour's drive from your place in the city. Yejun grew up in the countryside, and the columbarium where he’s interred is at the cemetery closest to his and Taehyung’s childhood home. It’s a quiet drive, a typical Tuesday evening if it were any other week. You don’t even bother with music, haven’t in the last two years, preferring to just soak in the quiet and try to center yourself.
As you pull into the parking area outside the gate to the grounds, you spot Taehyung’s black SUV. He’s standing beside it, leaning against the driver's side door with his chin tipped down below the line of the thick scarf wrapped around his neck. Your headlights swing across his vehicle, illuminating him in the process as you park.
You take your time climbing out of your car, casting fleeting glances in his direction while you gather your courage and resolve. He’s wearing a thick grey-colored tweed coat that covers him to the knees, and khaki slacks lead down to shiny brown loafers. His hair is windswept, the fluffy waves moving across his forehead with every gust of chilly air.
“Hey,” you say as you swing open your door and step out. He catches your eye over the roof of your car and gives you a soft smile.
“Good evening. Drive okay?”
You nod. “Not too much traffic, which is always nice.”
“You should have let me come and pick you up.” It’s the same thing he said last year, to which you decline politely just the same as well.
“Thanks, but I enjoy the drive. Gives me time to think.”
His eyes flick over you, taking you in from head to toe. There is understanding clear on his face. “Shall we?” He gestures toward the entrance gate. You notice a small bundle of flowers held in his other hand that’s hanging by his side. “Oh, this is for you.” It surprises you when Taehyung offers you the flowers, having thought he was bringing them to leave in Yejun’s vase.
You take the offered cluster, automatically bringing it to your nose and giving it a delicate sniff. It’s hard to smell the fragrance in the cold, but as you peer down at the flowers and take in the deep purple and soft pink, the scent of lavender and hibiscus filters through as if on a memory. It’s a combination that reminds you painfully of Yejun, as this was always his go-to whenever he would bring you home flowers from the shop after work.
“Thank y—“ your polite words cut off as you hear the distinct crackle of paper as you shift the bundle of flowers between your hands. “What’s this?” you ask, holding the flowers up until you see the small envelope attached to the hemp string holding the bunch together.
“A note,” Taehyung responds slowly as if he’s trying to decide if that’s all he’ll say. “Perhaps wait until we’re settled to read it?”
You finger the crisp fold of parchment, wondering. “Okay, yeah,” you agree, chalking it up to most likely being a grievance note from Taehyung, and it might be awkward for you to read it right now in front of him.
The cemetery typically closes at sundown, but Taehyung has access as the gardener. When he and Yejun took over Taehyung’s parents' floral shop, they expanded the business to include landscaping for local companies and establishments. The cemetery is one such establishment they took on. He produces a key from his pocket, unlocking the small pedestrian gate that must have been locked up not too long ago, judging by the sun barely having dipped below the horizon.
“Moojin left about ten minutes before you pulled up,” Taehyung explains casually, confirming the thought you just had. “It’ll just be us, so we can take as much time as we need.”
Maybe you should feel bad that Taehyung gives you preferential treatment and access to the cemetery after hours, but it’s hard to care about that when other, darker feelings have you clutched so tightly. The walk to the columbarium is relatively short, being one of the newer buildings erected within the grounds just some twenty years ago or so.
“The trees are doing well, even in the winter,” you note, nodding toward the row of young pines along the fence line. It was one of the last projects Yejun worked on with Taehyung before he became ill.
“He’d be able to tell you all the properties of the tree that make it sustainable during this time of the year,” Taehyung responds, his voice carrying notes of sadness. Yejun doesn’t come up much in conversation between the two of you, most things not needing to be said, merely understood without a spoken word. So, it’s surprising and endearing to actually hear Taehyung talk about him, especially now.
You smile, knowing he’s right. “With enough scientific jargon to make you go cross-eyed trying to keep up, too.”
That earns you a soft laugh from Taehyung. “And he wouldn’t even realize it until you’re so lost you can’t even pretend to have understood.”
“I miss that,” you whisper with a sigh, your warm breath misting lightly in the cold.
Taehyung slips his arm through yours, hooking his elbow around the crook of your arm. “Me, too.”
💔💔💔
Taehyung
It’s never easy, watching the way you suffer through your emotions. Taehyung knows you try to hide them, and sometimes you’re successful. But others…like right now, he can read you as clear as a bright spring sky. Only instead of pastel blues, pinks, and yellows, you’re a stark monochrome of Pantone grey. Just as clear, but decidedly less alive.
He hates it. Knowing just how vibrant of a person you once were. When Yejun left your life, so, too, did the color, it seems. Leeched away with the slow death of your husband. It’s a cruel fate, Taehyung has decided, and it’s one you never deserved. Yejun also knew this. He saw this in the way you mourned at his bedside, even before he was gone. It’s why Yejun made Taehyung promise to take care of you, to never let you forget how to smile.
As more time passes, Taehyung isn’t sure whether or not he’s done a good job by Yejun’s request. Not when the dark circles around your eyes seem to get more permanent every time Taehyung sees you. It’s why he brought the letter—the next letter. He’s curious if you remember the first one, the one that came the day of Yejun’s funeral; the one that had you crawling into Taehyung’s arms for the first time, seeking the comfort you knew was there.
That’s happened a few times in the two years since Yejun now. Any time you begin to fray at the edges and unravel a bit too quickly, Taehyung’s been there, weaving you back together the best he can. It might not be pretty, but a patchwork quilt is better than shredded rags, he likes to think. He hopes, at least.
“Are you warm enough?” Taehyung asks, realizing your arm is trembling around his. The jacket you’re wearing is far too thin, meant more for warding off spring rain showers than winter chills. Your lips are formed into a thin, bloodless line as if you’re trying to keep your teeth from chattering, and your brow is pinched.
The lift of your shoulder is subtle, dismissive and nonchalant. “I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not. Here,” Taehyung insists, pulling you to a halt on the walking path. “Take this.” He shrugs out of his jacket, draping it over the thinner trench you’re wearing over your sweater. You instantly relax, a soft sigh misting the air in front of your mouth.
“Thank you. I forget how cold it gets out here at night,” you mumble, encouraging Taehyung to continue walking toward the entrance to the columbarium, where Yejun’s memorial awaits. “Are you sure you’ll be okay without it?” Your eyes are round and glassy when you look up at him, the moonlight overhead reflecting in their depths.
The thick sweater Taehyung has on paired with his wool scarf is enough to stave off the wintery bite, but what warms him the most is seeing your eyes flash with a brief flicker of life when you snuggle into the depths of his jacket, bringing the tweed collar up around your neck after he assures you he’s fine without it.
Your feet shuffle, your stride slowing as you approach the columbarium. Taehyung can feel your hesitancy. The air around you is suffocating and full of static, something Taehyung wants desperately to help dispel.
“Come on. Together.” Taehyung offers you his hand, splaying his fingers wide in invitation. You lick your lips, eyes flicking between Taehyung’s face and his offered hand. Finally, you sag a little and slip your fingers in between his.
Your hand is soft and delicate in his. Taehyung has always admired your ability as an artist, being able to take your hands and a simple tool like a paintbrush and create something profound and breathtaking. Some might argue that what Taehyung does is also a form of art, but he swears it’s nothing compared to the pure magic you create. He’s found himself under your spell more than once, entranced by your art.
Even the works you’ve created in the last two years, the things you keep hidden away in your studio, are still quite beautiful—if more haunted. Taehyung knows you’re not selling any art and you haven’t hosted a gallery night in almost three years now. The few times he’s been inside your studio since Yejun, you’ve indulged his curiosity and let him look at the things you’ve worked on.
Taehyung cherishes those private moments you allow him within your space. He uses them as a time to reflect on what life has brought to you and to him. You have a shared experience of losing someone, but it’s clear you’re both working through your pain differently. Your studio, once a bright and vibrant space filled with inspiration and captured moments of love, is now more of a tomb, silent and full of the whisper of death.
Taehyung eases open the door to the columbarium. The motion-activated lights within flicker on and fill the space with a soft yellow glow. It’s better than the typical fluorescent white lights they used to use. Taehyung thinks the bright, sterile lighting is far too reminiscent of a morgue or hospital, not exactly places people should be reminded of when coming to visit their dead loved ones. So, he suggested the change when he took over doing the gardening for the cemetery.
Yejun’s niche is towards the back of the space, near the bottom. You separate yourself from Taehyung, letting the bundle of flowers droop upside down in your hand as you step lightly across the floor. You look like a specter, gliding across holy ground in search of what’s keeping you tied to this plane of existence. In many ways, Taehyung thinks that’s precisely what is happening with you. You’re suspended in time, stuck in a limbo of heartache.
In the two years since Yejun, you haven’t been able to move on, even though that’s exactly what Yejun wanted you to do. Yejun never wanted you to mourn him for long. He told Taehyung there was far too much love for you to give, and you had a heart big enough to love someone else while still holding true to Yejun. What Yejun failed to realize, Taehyung thinks, is that without Yejun, you didn’t want to love again.
Taehyung holds back a few steps, giving you some time to have a private moment as you kneel down in front of Yejun’s niche. The placard covering the niche is engraved with his name, birth and death dates, and a small metal frame that holds a glass engraved likeness of Yejun. It pains Taehyung to see the smiling face and crinkled eyes behind his wireframed glasses. Yejun was his brother in all ways, except for being born to the same parents. That didn’t matter to them, though—still doesn’t matter to Taehyung. They love—loved—each other just as fiercely as if they had been.
“Yejun,” you whimper his name, pressing a hand to the placard, head hanging low. Taehyung watches your shoulders shake with silent sobs, and he can’t take it anymore. He moves across the space and kneels down beside you, ignoring the cold that instantly leeches through the knees of his trousers. Before he can think better of it, he has his arms around you, trying to hold you together…trying to keep your seams from unraveling too fast.
Taehyung coos softly, murmuring as many words of encouragement and solace as can work past his quivering lips, “Shh, it’s okay. I’m here. It’s going to be okay. I promise. He loved you so fiercely. I miss him, too. I’m here for you. Shh, it’s going to be okay.” Over and over again, Taehyung repeats it like a mantra until your sniffles subside, and you slump into his arms, feebly returning his embrace.
Feeling your arms around him is a comfort, one that helps him keep his own tears in check. “Thank you for being here,” you sniff before burying your face in his scarf and inhaling deeply.
“I’m always going to be here for you,” Taehyung offers, smoothing a hand over your hair in what he hopes is a soothing fashion. He watched Yejun console you enough times to have a good idea of what might help. After Sujin was born, you battled postpartum depression for a while, and Taehyung helped wherever he could, giving him those brief glimpses into your emotional turmoil. Yejun always petted your hair and let you ground yourself in his embrace. He never even had to say a word; just let you draw on his strength. So, Taehyung has always tried to emulate that for you whenever you’ve needed him.
You sigh, and Taehyung reluctantly lets you pull away to sit back on your heels. “I’m such a mess. I’m sorry.”
“Hey,” Taehyung says, capturing the side of your face in one of his hands. You sway on your knees; big, round, red-rimmed eyes locked onto his. “Never apologize to me. You’re human, not a mess. Okay?”
“Okay,” you whisper, lips barely moving. You slowly turn, sitting with your back against Yejun’s niche.
“Okay,” Taehyung repeats, and settles in beside you. He barely notices the cold this time as it seeps through the seat of his pants. There are far too many fierce emotions rolling through him to be bothered by the chill.
“Is it okay if I read this now?” you ask after several moments of shared silence.
Taehyung looks over at you, fingering the small envelope attached to the bundle of fresh flowers he brought. He swallows past the thick knot in his throat, worried about you reading it but knowing you need to. Perhaps it’ll be best read when he’s around and not in the solitude of your apartment where you could fall apart without someone there to catch you; Taehyung knows Sujin is staying at your mother’s tonight.
He clears his throat. “Uh, sure, yeah.”
“They really are beautiful,” you say, voice so soft it barely carries to Taehyung. You admire the flowers for a moment, and the anxiety Taehyung had earlier in the shop when he was wrapping them goes away. He was worried that he got the flowers wrong. He knew Yejun always brought you fresh flowers, different types for different occasions. Yejun was all about the spiritual and emotional meaning of flowers, something that Taehyung hardly paid any mind to until after.
Finally, you tug the end of the string that attaches the envelope to the flowers, and you set them to the side. The flap is tucked into the envelope, so you slide it out and remove the tri-folded parchment from within. It looks the same as it did the day Yejun gave it to Taehyung a few weeks before he died. It’s the same as all the other letters waiting in a box under Taehyung’s bed—waiting for the right moment, waiting for you.
“If you need a moment—” Taehyung begins to say, but you hold up a hand to silence him. Slowly, you unfold the paper and smooth it over your thighs. Your eyes flick over the paper, snatching on random words until they hit the name signed at the bottom.
“What is this?” you whisper, yet your voice cuts like steel. “Is this a cruel joke?” You hold the paper up for Taehyung to see. At the top, it reads ‘For if you haven’t moved on’. Taehyung can understand why you might think so.
“N-no. It’s…there’s…” Taehyung pauses and takes a deep breath before trying again. “It’s not a joke. It’s from Yejun.” The look of hurt that ghosts across your face brings a prickling heat behind Taehyung's eyes, and he has to blink them several times to hold his emotions at bay as he explains. “The letter I gave you after the funeral?” He waits until you give him a subtle nod. “This is another he gave me…along with many others.”
“Many others?” you ask, incredulity seeping into your tone.
“He wanted to leave you something, something more than just your memories and heartache. So, he spent a few weeks, before he got bad, writing letters to you. He gave them to me and made me promise I’d give them to you when the time was right. This one—” Taehyung nods toward the letter held between your fingers “—was one I wasn’t sure if I’d have to give you or not. It was one Yejun specifically said to only give you if…well, if you hadn’t started living life again.”
“Hadn’t started living life again?” You balk at that, rearing back from him with an angry look pinching your face.
Taehyung feels like he’s botching this, not explaining it properly to you or something. “Just, just please read it.” Taehyung has no idea what the letter says. He never wanted to invade Yejun’s and your privacy. He’s hoping, though, that maybe the letter might hold some key information to help you understand…to help ease your anger in a way that Taehyung’s words can’t seem to.
You stare at Taehyung for a moment, and he’s certain you’re about to spit in his face and leave him sitting here alone. But, you finally shake your head and sigh, settling back into place and focusing on the paper. Taehyung is sorely tempted to try and read over your shoulder, but he doesn’t want to further your ire. So, he slides a few inches away, opening up a wide, cold gap between the two of you…and waits.
💔💔💔
To the love of my life, For if you haven’t moved on
Hi, baby. I hope this is a letter Tae never has to give you, but if you’re reading this, then that means we’re not doing so well. I say ‘we’, because I’m still there with you. Just like I promised in my other letter. I told Tae to use his discretion on whether to ever give you this or not. He knows you nearly as well as I do, so I trust him. So, if you ever read this, know he doesn’t mean any harm by it…I don’t mean any harm by it. But, baby, you gotta start living again. At this point, I don’t know how much time will have passed since I had to go away, but I do know you can’t let much more time pass. I need you to live, my love. Live for me, live for Sujin…live for yourself. No more standing by while the world continues to spin, you have to spin with it, baby, let it carry you away, and on to better days. Please. Find something that makes you laugh, find something that makes you smile…even if it’s a someone. I know you’ll always love me. There is no doubt about that. But, don’t let that love stop you from living. Let someone in, let someone help…love again, for me. Show the world that it can’t tear you down. Go on a date, go skydiving, go to one of those fancy art galleries in Italy you used to fantasize about…just go, baby. Go and do, and be free. Don’t be afraid…please, don’t be afraid to live.
Love forever,
Your Yejun
The memory of the other letter, albeit a bit fuzzy, drifts through your mind as you sit and try to come to terms with how you feel at this moment. You absently trace the neat scrawl of Yejun’s handwriting covering the page. Don’t be afraid. Are you afraid? Is that it? You’ve never thought of it like that, in terms of being afraid to live. But, if you think about it, you suppose that’s the root of it. You are afraid. Afraid of moving on. What if you do find happiness? What if you do find someone else? Yejun is clear that he’s confident you’ll never forget him, but what if you do?
You don’t want to be sitting somewhere thirty years from now, with your head thrown back, laughing at the joke from some other guy, with Yejun having not crossed your mind in years. It’s not that you don’t want to be happy. You just…you don’t know.
Taehyung is sitting so quietly beside you that if you closed your eyes, you’d think you were alone. Guilt pricks against your heart at how badly you first reacted, the harsh tone and words you lashed at Taehyung where he didn’t deserve it. You clear your throat, drawing the flicker of Taehyung’s eyes in your direction.
“I’m sorry, Tae. I really am. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.” The words are thick on your tongue as you work through the emotions threatening to obliterate your existence. You think you might cry, but give yourself an imaginary pat on the back when you manage to maintain eye contact with Taehyung while successfully blinking back the tears.
Taehyung is quiet for a moment, a muscle in his jaw working, flexing the dark stubble you can see shadowing along his jawline. It’s in this moment that you feel like you see Taehyung in a new light, with added clarity. He looks haggard, tired. You didn’t notice it before, the sunken circles around his eyes or the lack of a clean shave…until now. It’s not fair, you realize, that he has taken care of you so much the last two years when you haven’t even so much as bothered to check on how he is doing.
You’re just about to break the silence with another feeble apology when he smiles, it’s faint, but it’s there. “You don’t need to apologize to me. Yejun and I might have shared a different kind of bond than what you two had, but I have at least an inkling of the keen sting you’re feeling, the one that never quite goes away no matter what you do.” He brings a hand up and presses it to the center of his chest. “The one that slices a little deeper after the sun goes down and everyone else has gone about their lives.”
Chilled goosebumps pop up along your arms, despite the warmth from the added layer of Taehyung’s jacket. That is exactly what it feels like, a lingering sting that won’t go away, one that grows when you’re alone.
You lick your trembling lips, tearing your gaze away from his and focusing back on the letter clutched in your hand. “Yejun,” you whisper. “He—he wants…he wants me to move on.” A soft sob catches in your throat. “But, I can’t do that. How can I do that?”
Your shoulders heave as the emotions you were able to hold at bay before come crashing through the walls you managed to put up. It’s not like the weeping from earlier. That was simply the quiet cries of a mourning wife. This is bone-deep, soul-rending agony that shakes your entire body.
Taehyung pulls you into his arms, and you press your face into the cushioning of his scarf and scream. The sound is muffled, but you can still hear it echoing through the columbarium when all the air finally empties from your lungs. You try to replenish the air, sucking in stilted breaths, but it’s not enough. Panic ensues, your heart launching into a heavy, staccato rhythm as if trying to pound right out of your chest.
“Hey, hey,” Taehyung soothes. “Slow down. Try to breathe slowly.” He pulls you firmly into his lap. You’re heedless to the intimate position your body falls into with your knees on either side of his hips. All you care about is getting air into your lungs. Taehyung holds you by the face, angling yours so you look up into his worried eyes. “Come on, slow. In…out…like that, come on, another one. In and then out.” He breathes with you, exaggerating the way he inhales air through his nose and pushes it back out through his mouth.
His warm breath puffs across your face with each exhale, carrying with it the faintest sharp tinge of mint and the earthy tones of tea. Something that instantly makes you think of home. It helps bring you back to reality, slowing your rampaging heart, and subsiding your shuddering cries.
“I can’t do it,” you mumble.
“You can. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”
“No, no. You don’t—I can’t. It’s…it’s cold in here,” you whisper, pressing a trembling hand over your heart. “No one wants that.”
A soft, sad smile forms on Taehyung’s face as he continues to stare down at you. “Good thing that I know a thing or two about keeping things warm.” He drops his hands from your face and grabs the lapels of his jacket that’s still draped over your shoulders and gives it a tug, pulling it tighter around you. You can’t help but smile, even if it’s a watery one.
“What would I do without you?” you ask, not expecting Taehyung to answer.
“You’d make it.” He sounds so sure. “I know you would, you’d do it. But, I am glad to be here, to help however I can.”
Taehyung doesn’t urge you off of his lap, just allows you to rest there with your cheek pressed over his softly beating heart, finding whatever comfort you can from the proximity of another source of warmth. His words linger there, filling the space between you with a comfortability that you know you’ll never find anywhere else. You don’t say anything else, as there isn’t much else to say. At least, not words you think you could say out loud. Not here, not now.
But, an hour later, as you’re driving home, you decide to try. So, you do something you haven’t done in a while and turn on the radio, letting the music fill the silence from before. It’s a small step, but a step nonetheless; the first of—you hope—many.
The next morning, with the light of a new day spilling through the gap between your bedroom curtains, you decide you feel…good. As you lay in bed last night, full of revelations about how you’re going to start making steps toward Yejun’s desire for you to be happy again, worry began to set in. Worry over whether or not you can do this. Now, though, you feel decidedly different—light, in a way—as you push back the blankets and climb out of bed.
With your mom having taken Sujin to school this morning, it afforded you some time to sleep in, which is something you haven’t done in years. You weren’t sure you were going to, considering how poorly you’ve been sleeping the last couple of years. It feels nice, stretching your arms over your head and not feeling as groggy for once.
There is one thing you want to do before heading to the studio, where you know you’ll probably just piddle around until it’s time to pick up Sujin, but it’s just baby steps for now. It’s not lost on you that your work, the art you create, no matter if you manage to move on or not, might still be something that you’re never able to recover. Yejun wasn’t far off when he joked about being your one true muse, but you try to remain hopeful that you can surprise yourself.
The box in the back of the closet is exactly where you left it almost two years ago. It holds some of your most treasured possessions. Things you’ve held on to dating back as far as your teen years and as recent as two years ago. You kneel in the bottom of your closet and slide the box out from behind the stack of empty shoe boxes you can’t seem to toss out.
It’s a bit faded, the blue exterior, once a brilliant navy, is now more denim in color. You’ve had the box since you were a child, given to you by your father the summer before he split from your mom. That really hurt your family, when he cut himself out of the picture without so much as an apology; he ran off with another woman. It was so hard for you to believe in love after that.
Lifting the small silvered latch, you ease open the box lid and sigh as your eyes land on the folded paper nestled on top. Yejun’s first letter. It’s the last thing you put in this box. The paper still feels crisp in your fingers as you delicately pluck it out and unfold it. You worry at your bottom lip a moment before letting your eyes devour the same words you read once before.
This time, they don’t hurt nearly as much. You still feel that piercing ache, but it’s accompanied by another, fresher feeling—one of hope. What stands out the most, now, though, is the confirmation that there are other letters waiting for you. Yejun says as much himself in this letter, you just hadn’t ever put the dots together, too distracted in your grief.
There are endless possibilities for what those other letters might be for. But, what’s clear is that you won't get another one until you do something to deserve it. Knowing Yejun, you have a few ideas of what those things might be. There is a thrill but also a sense of trepidation as you think about that. You want to move on and be happy again, and in doing so, you know you’ll get the other letters, but there’s also that sense of overwhelming dread.
Where do you begin?
You spent most of your day rearranging and organizing supplies at the studio. But, now that the sun is beyond its zenith and casting longer shadows across your paint-marked studio floor, you feel like you’ve done nothing but waste time. You still haven’t decided where to begin with Yejun’s letters and you’re no closer to coming up with an idea for your next project either.
With frustration coloring your thoughts, you lock up and welcome the reprieve of going and picking Sujin up from school. That’s one part of your life that you do know up from down with.
As you pull through the pick up line, you don’t see Sujin anywhere out front. You spot Mrs. Min ushering a few students to their cars, her friendly face sporting a smile as she does so. Her eye catches yours and she holds up a hand, rushing over to your passenger side window.
“Hi!” she says when you roll it down. “So glad I caught you before you waited too long. Sujin volunteered to help Mr. Kim with his terrarium and it’s taking a bit longer than expected. He should be out in the next fifteen minutes or so, feel free to park in the teacher’s lot or you can wait here if you’d like.”
“Mrs. Min!” a rambunctious gaggle of students call her name, requesting her assistance.
She gives you an apologetic look. “Sorry, duty calls. He shouldn’t be too long!” she calls over her shoulder as she jogs towards the cluster of students beckoning her over. One of the kids has what appears to be a large diorama that they’re having a hard time carrying to their car, even with the assistance of their friends.
“Well, great,” you mumble to yourself, checking your rearview mirror and seeing a long line of cars waiting behind you.
Pulling ahead, you slip around the side of the school and pull into one of the empty teacher spots and cut the engine. You haven’t been inside the school since the parent-teacher meeting at the beginning of the year, so it wouldn’t hurt if you went inside now, it would give you a chance to peek into Sujin’s classrooms and see what he’s been up to. If it’s one thing he loves, it’s learning.
Mr. Kim and Mrs. Min have adjoining classrooms at the end of the hall for Sujin’s grade, a storage and supply closet connecting the two rooms. The door to Mrs. Min’s room is closed but the light is still on inside. You take a quick peek through the view window on the door and see colorful drawings and paper projects hanging on the wall, books scattered across a few tables, and a large container of art supplies opened on her desk. She teaches English, Reading, Art, and History while Namjoon covers Math and Science.
The gym teacher, Mr. Jeon, startles you as he breezes through the double doors at the end of the hall that lead out to the playground. “Oh, hey! Sujin, your mom is here!” he calls, stepping back and propping the door open with the heel of his sneaker.
“Mom!” you hear Sujin’s voice sound from through the open door. “You gotta come see this!”
Mr. Jeon holds the door open for you, his face lit with a pleasant smile. “A future scientist, I’d bet,” Mr. Jeon stage-whispers as you pass him and that makes your own smile blossom further.
“What’s going on, buddy?” you ask, taking in the scene before you.
Namjoon is crouched down beside Sujin, helping him sort through a collection of rocks spread out on a sheet of plastic. There are dozens of them, all various shapes and colors.
Sujin excitedly points out a few of the large rocks. “These would be perfect to create a hiding space!” he loudly proclaims before turning his bright eyes up to you. “Mr. Kim is letting me help him choose the rocks to go into the terrarium. We’re going to get our very own class salamander! Isn’t that cool, Mom? A class dragon!”
A soft chuckle comes from Namjoon as he pivots on his heels and squints up at you, the sun catching on the thick-framed glasses that are slipping down his nose. “We had so much fun yesterday talking about the salamander that was brought into Mrs. Min’s class that I couldn’t resist. I’ve had this old aquarium sitting in my garage for years, it just seems perfect.”
“Wow, yeah, that’s really cool.”
“Sorry for keeping him,” Namjoon suddenly stands, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking contrite. “I didn’t realize the bell had rung until Jungkook said something.” He turns to Sujin who is happily stacking a few of the smaller rocks into a pile. “I think that’s all for today, Sujin. We’ll finish it up tomorrow during class.”
Sujin frowns, his warm brown eyes flicking to Namjoon. “Okay,” he sighs.
“I tell you what, for all your hard work today, how about I let you be creative director during assembly tomorrow? Does that sound okay?”
The frown is quickly replaced with another excited smile. Sujin gives a whoop of delight and slaps his hands together before dusting them off. “Thank you, Mr. Kim, that sounds amazing!”
Seeing the interaction between Namjoon and Sujin gives you an idea, one that you hope you won’t regret. “Go grab your backpack, buddy, I’ll meet you outside Mrs. Min’s room in a second.”
“Yes, ma’am!” Sujin pulls open the door and scampers through, his sneakers squeaking on the tiled floor as he skips down the hall.
“Thank you for that, Namjoon, really. He was so excited about what happened yesterday and now this? He’s been wanting a turtle for a year now, so this will be a good test on whether or not we should get one.”
Namjoon pulls one of his hands out of his pocket and grips the back of his neck as he smiles shyly, his cheeks pinking slightly. “He’s a great kid, loves to learn. Though, turtles are a bit more needy than salamanders. It would also depend on the type of turtle. The standard box turtles are…” Namjoon trails off, his brow pinching as he throws furtive glances your way. “Sorry, you didn’t ask for a science lesson.”
That makes you laugh, which seems to ease the awkward tension in Namjoon. “Sujin isn’t the only one that likes learning.” You don’t intend the words to sound flirty, but they come out that way and you can distinctly tell that Namjoon keys into that.
“Yeah?” he asks, the shyness leeching away by the second.
“Um, yeah. Er, well, I should—” you jerk your thumb over your shoulder toward the door “—Sujin is probably waiting.”
“Oh, yeah, of course.” Namjoon sidesteps over the plastic sheet of rocks and fumbles with the door handle before yanking it open. “Have a good—”
“Are you free Friday night?” you blurt, wincing at the rudeness of interrupting him but knowing if you don’t ask now then you’ll lose your nerve.
“Friday?” he parrots back, eyes wide behind his glasses.
Panic slices through and you immediately want to take it back. “Sorry, that was—I didn’t, it’s not appropriate is it? I’m so sor—”
“I’m free,” he states, the words silencing your backpedaling.
“Oh.” Now that he’s confirmed, you’re not sure what else to say. It’s been so long since you’ve done this.
“Is there something you wanted to do?” Namjoon asks hesitantly, clearly picking up on your trepidation.
You swallow around the choking feeling in your throat, the one that’s ingrained with the idea that you’re still married and still madly in love with another man and this is akin to cheating. “Maybe dinner? Or a late coffee? Um, or…I’m sorry, it’s been so long since I’ve done this.”
Namjoon gives you an easy smile. “Dinner sounds great. Let’s say, seven?”
“Seven is good. How about that new pizza place that opened up near the park, do you know the one?”
“I’ve had my eye on that place for weeks! That sounds perfect.”
Are you really going on a date…with Sujin’s Science teacher? “Okay,” you say, chewing the inside of your cheek as you take a few steps down the hall. “Great.”
“Great,” Namjoon confirms with a smile, his deep dimples making an appearance. “See you then.”
All you can do is nod, not trusting yourself with any more words with the influx of emotions now swirling through you. Sujin bursts through Mrs. Min’s door, his backpack and lunchbox in tow.
“Let’s go!” he trumpets, thrusting his free hand into the air in a fist. “I’ve got some homework to do before I can work on my diagram for the terrarium!”
Namjoon’s soft chuckle carries to you from down the hall as you usher Sujin towards the exit. You can’t help casting one last glance behind you, taking in the way he’s lazily leaning against the doorframe of his classroom. He’s quite handsome, there’s no arguing that.
A giddy feeling adds itself to the uncertain emotions rolling through you. A fluttering in your tummy that you haven’t felt in over seven years. You can’t help but wonder, as you load Sujin into the car, if this is really what Yejun wants for you or are you making a mistake?
💔💔💔
Taehyung
It’s a weird sensation when you expect to feel one emotion but end up feeling another. That’s what Taehyung thinks anyway, as he reads the text message he received from you for the dozenth time. You have a date. With Namjoon.
Taehyung has never met the quirky Science teacher, but he’s heard plenty of stories about him from Sujin. Charming, educated, and completely and utterly perfect for you. And that should make Taehyung happy. Yet, all he can feel is mild annoyance when he thinks about Namjoon sitting across from you at a dinner table making you laugh and smile.
He wants to chalk it up to being overprotective in a brotherly sort of way, but Taehyung knows better. It’s no secret—well maybe it is to you—that Taehyung cares for you deeply. Even before Yejun, Taehyung always had a soft spot for his best friend’s wife. Something that he drunkenly confessed to Yejun once a few years ago. Yejun took it goodnaturedly, something that Taehyung still thinks about to this day, and simply told Taehyung he understood the attraction because hell, who could blame him?
They never talked about it again, until the day Yejun asked Taehyung to take care of you and Sujin—the day he was given a box of letters addressed to you. Yejun had given Taehyung a knowing smile and said something along the lines of fate knowing and that’s why Taehyung already had so much love for you.
He wasn’t sure, at first, if Yejun had ever shared Taehyung’s little secret with you. But, as time went on, it was clear that he hadn’t. That, or, so lost in your grief, you’ve been keenly uninterested in that prospect. But, now, you’re going on a date and Taehyung doesn’t know how to feel about it.
The twinge of jealousy in his chest doesn’t sit right with him. He has no right to feel this way. It’s just something that he can’t seem to shake, hasn’t been able to since you told him about it two days ago. So, instead of expressing that, he forces himself to try and share in your joy.
That’s great. Let me know when you’re home, I have something for you.
A letter perhaps??
Your eager reply makes him smile despite himself. If anything, that helps his mood to improve. The ‘first date’ letter is already sitting on his counter, waiting.
Perhaps. Now stop texting me and go have fun.
There is no reply to that. So, Taehyung waits patiently, phone in hand. Hours pass in a mindless, sluggish way. He’s far too wound up to do anything productive but also has nervous energy that needs to be released. So, Taehyung spends the four hours it takes for you to finally respond by squeaking out haphazard notes on the alto saxophone he’s taken to trying to learn to play.
His phone lights up where it sits on the coffee table and he nearly drops the instrument in his haste to snatch up the device.
I’m home.
That’s all it says and it makes Taehyung frown. Not that he expected you to tell him how the date went over text message, but he was anticipating something more than just those two words. He is startled to realize just how late it is, though, being past eleven already.
Is it too late? I can always just swing by tomorrow.
Sujin is staying with mom. It’s not too late.
Taehyung is contemplating his reply when another text from you pops up that makes him drop everything else and grab his car keys, not caring it’ll be close to midnight by the time he pulls up outside your apartment. It was a knee-jerk reaction to also grab the letter that was sitting beside his keys, but now he’s thinking about whether or not it’s a good idea.
Those thoughts quickly fade as he focuses on the road, intent on reaching your apartment in record time. His phone sits on the passenger seat, still open to your text thread, the single word might as well be an alarm blaring to Taehyung, urging him on faster.
Please.
💔💔💔
As soon as you send the last text message you want to take it back. Not only do you feel whiny, but you know Taehyung will drop everything and come over which makes you feel terrible and like you’re using him.
But, fuck. The date was so horrible all you want to do is crawl into familiar, comforting arms and cry yourself to sleep. You’re about to pour your third glass of wine when there is a sudden knock on the door, followed by it swinging open. Taehyung stands there with your spare key in his hand, eyes wide with concern.
“Are you okay?” he asks, breathless as he clearly sprinted up the stairs to get here and now you feel infinitely worse for it.
You shake your head which earns you a pained sound from Taehyung but you hold up your hand, silencing him. “I’m not shaking my head no as in no I’m not fine, it’s more a I’m such a fool head shake. I’m sorry, Tae. I’m fine. I shouldn’t have said anything, I just—”
“I’m glad you said something. What happened? Do I need to go pay a certain science teacher a visit?” For all his bravado, you know he wouldn’t hesitate if you said yes.
“No, no. It’s not his fault. Well, not entirely. Look, I’m sorry you drove all the way over here.” You discard the empty wine glass in favor of taking a large glug directly from the bottle.
“Hey, hey,” Taehyung says, deftly taking the bottle from your hands before you have the chance to take a second gulp from it. “Stop apologizing and tell me what’s wrong.”
“It was a fucking disaster.”
If Taehyung is surprised by your cussing, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he stills beside you, brow slowly pinching and forming deep furrows between them. “Did he hurt you?” he whispers, but his tone is cold and hard. “I’ll kill him.”
“What? What, oh no, Tae, no. He didn’t hurt me, god no.” You sigh, propping your hip against the lip of the counter and wrapping your arms around your middle. “He was lovely, actually. I was the disaster. Or maybe we were. I don’t know, it was just a terrible night. A terrible idea.”
“Talk to me about it,” Taehyung encourages, his hands landing lightly on your shoulders to steer you toward the couch in the living room.
So, you spend the next hour recounting all the horrid details for him. Everything from the way Namjoon wouldn’t stop talking about rocks and mineralized dirt to the way he tried to kiss you at the end of the night only for you to duck and him to lose his balance, effectively making him face plant into the brick wall of your apartment building.
“See, it was a terrible idea,” you lament, letting out a frustrated sigh.
Taehyung hums softly. “It doesn’t sound like a complete disaster to me. Namjoon was polite, even if he did nothing but talk about his own interests. Did you try changing the subject, or did he ask about you and you gave a dismissive answer?” You give Taehyung an annoyed look. “I’m just saying, you have the tendency to avoid things like that. So, it’s only meant as a means to try and understand. Maybe it can be better next time.”
“There won’t be a next time.” You throw up your hands in defeat. “He said he had a lovely time, but I could see it plain on his face, he was just trying to be nice. He left with a bloody napkin pressed against his mouth for crying out loud!”
“Well, maybe he really—”
“But, most of all,” you continue, speaking over Taehyung, “I didn’t have a good time. I don’t want to do it again. It didn’t make me happy.”
That seems to subdue Taehyung. “Oh,” he says, nodding slowly. “Well, okay, that’s different.”
“I’m broken, defective.”
Taehyung scoffs, giving you a withering look a moment before dragging you into his arms, squeezing you tightly. “You’re not defective. You’re human. All this proves is that maybe the science teacher isn’t the guy for you. Simply just a lack of…chemistry.”
You can’t help but laugh at his bad joke. “You’re terrible,” you say in a lighter tone, meant to tease more than chastise. “But, you’re right, I guess. I just…this was the first date I’ve been on in a long time and it all went so horribly. It’s hard not to think that I somehow messed up, that I’m just…not right, just broken, y’know?” Taehyung’s eyes are soft as you look up at him, trying hard not to let yourself grow too accustomed to the comforting feel of his arms around your shoulders.
“You are perfect, most certainly not broken,” he whispers. You watch from beneath your lashes as a small crease etches across his forehead and you can tell he’s warring with himself over something before he slowly presses a soft kiss against the side of your head. “You just have to give yourself grace. I’m proud of you.” As he says that last part, he gently pulls back, hands resting on your shoulders. His right hand trails down your arm and you feel the soft caress of paper against the back of your hand. “Yejun would be proud of you, too, taking as big of a step as you have, I just know it.”
The envelope is small, but you instantly recognize the shape and feel of the paper. It’s just like the one you got earlier this week—like the one from two years ago. “Should I wait to read it?” you ask, not really expecting an answer.
“I’ll leave if you’d like some privacy.”
And in that moment you realize that’s the last thing you want. “No, please stay. Umm, that is, unless you have something to do.” It’s after midnight, the sour twist of jealousy rears as you think of everything that could possibly take Taehyung away at this hour. You tamp it down, knowing you have no right to keep him here, regardless. “I’m okay, I promise.”
Taehyung’s lip twitches as you wait for him to answer. He shakes his head. “No, I have nothing else to do. I can’t promise I won’t end up crashing on your couch, though,” he says, stifling a yawn in his elbow before lacing his fingers behind his head and stretching out. “I’m here as long as you need me.”
“Thank you,” you whisper, grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch and spreading it out over Taehyung’s legs before curling up on the opposite end of the couch. Taehyung shifts around the blanket with his feet, making sure the other end covers your legs as well.
“Don’t have to thank me,” he sighs sleepily. “I just want to make you happy.”
You’re not sure if he misspoke, because surely he meant only that he wants to see you happy. Because, as it is, him saying he wants to make you happy…well, that does something funny to you. Though, you can probably blame that on the terrible date with Namjoon or the half a bottle of wine you drank. Either way, you can’t help but smile as you look at Taehyung laying on the other end of your couch, eyes closed, and chest rising and falling with deep, even breathing.
You take a moment, running back over the date with Namjoon in your head, fingers idly moving along the edge of the envelope. It started out so nicely, Namjoon standing outside your apartment with a bouquet of flowers. They made your nose itch and your eyes water a bit from how overly fragrant they were—clearly some mass grown clippings from a supermarket—but you smiled anyway, appreciating the gesture.
Dinner was lovely, the new restaurant proving to be worth the drive and money spent. It’s perhaps your own fault for thinking Namjoon might pay for the meal and it didn’t hurt you any to pay for your own, but it felt oddly…impersonal? Less like a date and more like a business meeting or something. You’re not too old to be naive in the sense that women are just as capable of paying for dinner as men, as well as the fact that men shouldn’t hold the complete burden of expense on dates. It’s just…it was unusual and he didn’t even bring it up, simply told the waiter to split the check before it was brought.
It’s not helped by the fact that Namjoon wouldn’t stop talking about work or soil deposits. And perhaps Taehyung was at least half right in the fact that you didn’t put forth a lot of effort to change the subject, but the way you see it, if Namjoon was interested in knowing about you, he would have asked. Though, is that expecting too much? Are you being too harsh? Maybe you’re projecting and Namjoon really wasn’t that bad.
Before you can continue to spiral any further, you force your thoughts to the letter in your hand. Hoping it’ll put your ill heart at ease, you extract the folded parchment and smooth it out.
To the love of my life, For after your first date
Hi, baby. First, I want to say that I love you. Second, I hope he at least made you smile. If he didn’t bring you flowers or even those cheap ones from the supermarket, don’t think too much of it. I’ll let you in on a little guy secret, not all of us are well versed on flora and even less so on women. Even if it didn’t go so well, though I hope it did, you can’t give up. Go on another date, with the same person or someone else, you just can’t stop now. Take as many adventures as you can, do something spontaneous. You never did take that dance class you wanted to a few years ago. Paint, travel, explore the world. Take Sujin to places we never got to go. Just don’t stop, keep turning, even if it’s slowly.
I’m so proud of you, you know? No matter what, I know you’re going to be okay. You’re going to make it. I can’t wait to see all you do. You’re going to be wonderful. You’re amazing, keep shining, baby. I love you so much.
Forever With You,
Your Yejun
Tucking the letter against your heart, you snuggle down in the couch, mind racing. You feel lighter somehow, like Yejun’s words have given you far more affirmation than you thought possible. The terrible date doesn’t seem so disastrous now.
“You okay?”
You startle at the soft question, thinking Taehyung was fast asleep. His eyes are barely cracked open, peering at you over his bent, blanket-covered knees.
“Mm, yeah. I think so,” you say after clearing your throat.
“Good…good,” Taehyung murmurs, his eyes falling shut once more.
“Hey, Tae?”
“Hmm?” His eyebrows raise but he doesn’t open his eyes. You take a moment to truly see him, the soft light from the stand lamp on the other side of the room illuminating him in profile. The soft curve of his cheek, the delicate slope of his nose, and the pouty bow of his lips aren’t new features, but you’re not sure you’ve ever truly paid attention to how breathtakingly handsome he is.
“Will you help me?”
Taehyung’s lips twitch as a mild frown turns down his lips. “Help you?”
“With whatever comes next.”
“Whatever you need, I’m yours,” he mumbles, a soft smile replacing his frown. You watch him for a moment longer, his lips going even softer as the smile fades with sleep. His chest rises and falls, your eyes tracking the motion in the dim lighting until you feel the pull of sleep yourself. Taehyung is the last thing you see before you close your eyes, and for the first time in over two years, you sleep peacefully; with a subtle warmth blooming in your chest where once there was only cold.
Next Chapter⇾ (coming soon!)
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#taehyung x reader#bts taehyung#taehyung smut#taehyung angst#taehyung fluff#taehyung fanfic#taehyung imagines#bts fanfic#bts smut#bts angst#bts fluff#kim taehyung#bts non idol au#bts imagines#bangtanwhq
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new addition — DREW STARKEY
authors note first concept! more dadxdrew content will be posted. writing about drew as a dad is one of the most cutest thing ever. this is my first time writing on here and it’s been awhile since i’ve written something so it will be a little rusty. also, thank you to those who've sent in requests, i will get to them when i can. feedback is always appreciated <3
summary welcoming your first child into the world and announcing it to the rest of the world.
A month ago you welcomed a beautiful healthy baby girl into the world. Words cannot describe the feeling of becoming a parent for the time. Each day that goes by you cherish every moment with her.
The minute you laid eyes on her, you knew deep in your heart you were meant to be in that very moment. She makes you look at the world differently.
First thing family and friends said when they met Y/D/N for the first time was that she has Drew's features, especially his eye color. But, she is the perfect mix between you both.
When Y/D/N was first born you both posted a picture showing her in her bed next to your hospital bed without showing her face because privacy is huge for Drew and you. You want to protect her from the rest of the world, it's a scary place.
Earlier this week, it hit a month since Y/D/N was born. She continues to grow everyday and never fails to make us smile.
You were in the kitchen cleaning the dishes while Y/D/N was in her swing set sound asleep in the living room; her pacifier in her mouth with her blanket to keep her warm. She loves taking naps or relaxing in her swing set. She will get fussy if you take her out when she's comfortable.
Drew was in the other room on the phone with his manager about an upcoming movie with Daniel Graig that will be filmed in Europe which meant Drew will be gone for a while.
It will be hard not having him around for a month or two but trips to see him will be planned. He’s spoken to you about it when he first got the role.
"She looks so peaceful" you are startled by Drew's voice in the kitchen. He apologizes by kissing your shoulder, "didn't mean to scare you babe."
“You scared me,” you gasped while putting the last plate in the dishwasher, “how did the call go?” You ask turning your body around facing Drew as he looks through the pantry for a snack.
“It went pretty good. We spoke about the movie, apartments since I’ll be there for a while filming and when I fly to Europe '' he explains.
He could tell you were feeling upset about the whole thing. He walks towards you with open arms, you lean into his body from the gesture.
Drew and you went into the living room and sat on the couch to watch tv.
"I think we should show our little princess to the world," Drew says while staring at his baby girl in complete awe.
"I think so too," you shift in your seat, "she's sleeping so peacefully in her swing" you add.
"Grab your phone to take a picture," Drew says.
“Actually, I took a few pictures maybe half an hour ago before she fell asleep. Here let me show you” you grab your phone from the kitchen counter and sit back to your seat, showing him the pictures.
Drew picked a picture out he wanted to post and you agreed.
Y/D/N started getting fussy in her swing. Before you could get up, Drew insisted he grab her. He picked her up carefully placing her on his chest; she tried tilting her head back, staring up at her father as he looked at the tv.
She started to make little noises catching Drew's attention. He made eye contact with her which brought a small grin to her face.
"She grinned at me" he giggles then kissing the top of her head softly.
The bond between those two makes your heart melt. From the moment Drew laid eyes on Y/D/N, you could already tell their bond will be stronger as time goes on.
She is definitely a daddy's girl. She's so attached to him. She holds onto his chain when she lays on his chest when she's awake or sleeping.
"You are the best thing that's ever happened to me and your mama" Drew softly whispers in her ear as he sways back and forth.
You took a picture of them. They looked so cute.
Spending time together as a family is one of your favorite things to do because it holds memories. This is what you've always dreamed about as a little girl and you finally have it.
You ended up posting the picture tagging Drew with the caption.
A month later and you are already getting so big. Words cannot express the joy of being your mommy. You’ve changed mine and your dads life for the better <3
Once you set your phone down, your phone immediately started blowing up with a bunch of comments from family, friends, and fans.
Drew felt his phone buzzing from the coffee table. You look at him giving him a little chuckle, lifting your arms up, indicating you want to hold Y/D/N. Drew places her in your arms; you shift your body into a comfortable position. She looks at you then looks around her.
"Everyone keeps saying she looks just like me," he chuckles, scrolling through the comments. "Well she is your daughter" you add.
"She has your smile" he also adds, nudging your shoulder.
“Thank you for carrying our daughter for nine months and pushing her out when I knew it was painful. You are such a strong, beautiful, and wonderful woman that I love so much. I can’t wait to see where our future has in store for our family” Drew’s words have never failed to make you cry when he says things like this to you. He wraps his right arm around your lower waist, pulling you closer together while kissing your lips passionately.
“You are making me tear up over here Joseph” you chuckle, wiping a few tears from your face. “But, you are the one of the main reasons why our daughter is here so thank you babe” you add on because it’s true.
“I love you” you place your hand on-top of his.
“I know” he smiles, “and i love you too princess” he leans down kissing the top of Y/D/N head. She smiles at his gesture.
#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey x you#drew starkey x female reader#drew starkey fanfiction#rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x female reader#outer banks x reader#outer banks imagines#obx fanfiction#family#dad!drew#dad!drew 🦋
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Can u pls pls pls do a smut where daniel is a lot older thn me, and put a strap around my neck saying “daddys slut” and slaps me on the face & spit on me
Also i love ur writing 🥺🥺🥺
Hell Yeah - Daniel Ricciardo
<word count - 1613>
warning - smut, under 18s dni, i'm sorry, (light) slapping, spitting, choking (?)
Ringing the doorbell, you stood outside Daniel's front door while you waited for him. No more than ten minutes ago, you had received a text from the Aussie saying he needed you at his house and now.
As much as your friends said you shouldn't keep doing this with him since he was a whole lot older than you, around eleven years, and he had made it clear that he wasn't looking for a relationship. You were both there for the same thing, so you didn't mind.
He opened the door, wearing a baggy shirt and comfy looking sweatpants, "You called?" you smirked, sauntering into the entrance hall. "Hell yeah I did," he said, looking you up and down as you walked.
"Where do you want me?" you asked, dropping the trench coat to reveal the short denim shorts and the bralette that covered less than is showed off. "You can wait there," he said, padding up the stairs and into his room.
Out of his bedside table drawer, he grabbed something that he was desperate to try out on you since he had seen it and bought it. He held it behind his back as he reapproached you, standing in front of you. "Can I try something on you?" he asked.
He would always ask when it came to new things, even if he knew that you were going to say yes every time. You were open to trying whatever, and if you didn't like it, he would stop. "Yeah," you nodded as he came closer to you.
He revealed the item from behind his back, and it was definitely something you wanted to try out before. He secured the leather strap with a large metal ring in the center around your neck. "What do we do with this now?" you asked, not sure on where this was going.
"Patience, princess, patience," he tutted, rummaging around in his pocket and producing a long, silver chain. Without another word, he clipped it to the silver ring and gave it a light tug, pulling you forward. As you gazed into his eyes, they darkened with a clouded haze of desire.
"Come with me," he said, walking away from you and trying to pull you along with him.
"But I want to do the couch first," you whined, knowing what would happen if you protested against what he said. Yanking you close to him, he lightly slapped you in the face. It had happened before, and it put a goofy smile on your face.
"Who are you?" he asked, wiping the smirk off your face, wrapping the chain around his knuckles, pulling you in so you were only a few centimeters away from him. "I'm..." you trailed off, trapped under his intimidating gaze.
"Are you a slut?" he spat, gripping the chain so the strap around your neck tightened and choked you slightly. "Yes," you nodded.
"Whose slut are you?" he asked condescendingly.
"Yours," you told him, fluttering your eyelashes at him.
"And who am I?" he huffed, winding the chain even tighter around his hand.
"D-Daddy," you stuttered, knowing that was exactly what he wanted to hear. The whole 'daddy' thing was a complete accident. It slipped out once, and you found out that Daniel adored it. "So that makes you," he prompted.
"Daddy's slut," you told him, knowing how much he reveled in hearing those words come out of your mouth. "That's fucking right," he said, "Next time, I want that answer first time around, alright?" he instructed.
"Yes," you nodded, "Daddy," you drew out, loving how you could make him melt just by uttering a few words. "Good fucking girl, now come with me," he praised, tugging you along behind him like a dog on a leash.
He dragged you through the house and up the stairs, straight into his bedroom. He may have been into things that were on the wilder side, but he was a sucker for the bedroom.
It wasn't long before your shorts and bralette were on the floor, leaving you with the chain dangling down your chest. It was cold on your skin, but not unwelcome - not by any means. "On the bed, hands and knees," he instructed, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it onto the floor.
You didn't hesitate a bit, stepping over to the bed and crawling onto it. As instructed, you positioned yourself on your hands and knees. Behind you, you felt a presence as the mattress sunk by your knees.
"So wet and I haven't even touched you yet... Such a slut for me," he groveled, placing one of his hands on your hip and tugging the strap around so he could still pull the chain from behind. "I don't even need to spend the time getting you ready for me, you've done it all by yourself. Such a good girl,"
Even the tiny praises he sung for you got your heart pounding in your chest more than anything else could. You were so caught up in your thoughts that you were caught by surprise when you felt him teasing your entrance.
As you waited, you shuffled your hips backwards, asking for him. "You've got to tell me what you want, princess," he teased, and you could just hear the smirk he had on his face as he spoke to you. "I want you to fuck me," you said, without skipping a beat.
"That's a good girl, knows what she wants," he said, tugging on the chain. Inch by inch, he eased into you and let you get accustomed to the stretch. Even if you both like it rough, he would always make sure you were comfortable before starting anything.
Slowly, he started thrusting in and out of you, causing you to let out a moan of pleasure. "Oh, so that's how you like it?" he mocked, picking up the pace and yanking the chain a bit harder.
"Fuck yes," you groaned, your hand slinking down to massage your clit to give you the extra stimulation that drove you over the edge. As he carried on rocking his hips back and forth into you, you were crumbling underneath him.
The room was filled with a combination of your moans, Daniel's groans of pleasure and the sound of bare skin slapping against each other. With his every movement, you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to release.
"Shit, don't stop," you pleaded, stars slowly starting to cloud your vision.
"God I love it when you beg for me," he mewled as he tugged on the chain eve harder, cutting off your oxygen supply even more. It just made you even crazier for him.
You felt hot tears pricking at the backs of your eyes as he sent you over the edge. Strings of expletives fell from your lips as tingles erupted through your body. Your legs and arms were buckling underneath you as you collapsed down to the mattress in a crumpled heap.
"You're not done yet, princess. Come on, up," he said, tapping you and you rolled over to look at him. "You've got one more thing to take care of, baby," he cooed, pulling you up by the chain that was still around your neck.
You sunk down to your knees in front of him, immediately taking his sodden dick in your hands and guiding it into your mouth. As your head bobbed back and forth, up and down, you were gagging every time it hit the back of your throat.
The more you went, the drier your throat became. Just as he was about to reach his climax, you pulled back, gasping for air and trying to build up some more saliva in your throat. "Princess, come on now," he sighed, disappointed.
"Too dry," you choked out, looking up at him through glassy eyes.
"Open," he tutted, and you opened your mouth with your head still tilted up to him. A wad of spit plopped into your mouth with a wet thud, some of it landing on your lips. You tongue poked out to collect the droplets, and you were soon ready to get back to business.
You picked back up where you left off, your hands gently twisting around the base and your head bobbing up and down the length of his shaft. One of his hands balled your hair up in a fist behind your head, moving your head with more ferocity.
"Shit, princess. Just like that. Such a good fucking girl," he rambled on through gritted teeth. He threw his head back as low groans rumbled out from his throat. He didn't need to tell you that he was about to finish, you felt him twitching in your hands.
Just like that, hot, salty liquid spewed out into the back of your throat, and it slightly burned as you swallowed it. As you drew your head back, the tip sprung out with a satisfying 'pop'. You ran your tongue over your lips, soaking up the final few remnants.
"You did such a good job," he praised, unclipping the leather from around your neck. He pulled you up off your knees and gently guided you over to the bed, pushing you down. He collected a warm washcloth from the bathroom to clean you up, before snuggling in bed next to you.
He pulled you close so your head was resting comfortably on his chest and you could hear his heart slowly beating. "You did great, baby," he softly mumbled, pressing a soft kiss into your hair. For a moment, you thought you could get used to this, but you mentally scolded yourself.
This was never meant to be more, and you would just have to be content with what you had.
A/N - I hope this was alright! I didn't have a clue how to write some of it and I tried my best. If anyone has any other submissions/requests, I would love to write them. Thank you and have a wonderful day!
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