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1kook · 3 years

Text

new parent syndrome

— kim namjoon x (f) reader

SUMMARY You love Namjoon, honest. But you love your daughter Hyejoo even more— it’s not a controversial sentiment when you know he’s the same way! —and going back to a regular adult life sans kids absolutely sucks. (Or so you thought.) WARNINGS dilf!joon, dreamy husband joon, loving parents au, jimin is also a dad, bathtub sexy times, exhibitionism 😳 kinda sorta, tiny praise kink, joon calls her wifey TT, fingering, cunninglingus, doggy style, it’s kinda cheesy n romantic /.\, unprotected sex, …. impreg kink RATINGS m (18+) WC 9.5k

NOTES writing parent fics is harder than i thought :/ i had this idea last week n was like yes, lets write this fic that absolutely no one asked for... except me! <3 so here we are, fantasizing about dreamy dad joon.... as always i have to thank rumu ( @kigurumu ) who is kind enough to edit these n b like that don't make no sense -_- anyway lemme know what u think !! enjoy !!

No matter how hard you try, the letter f refuses to fit itself into Hyejoo’s phonemic understanding. She’s a growing toddler so it’s only normal that there are sounds she still can’t pronounce, words she doesn’t quite get. But her inability to say food or family or friends, which are undoubtedly the three most important things in her three year-old world right now, is definitely a setback you didn’t see coming.

Your worrywart husband has taken matters into his own hands, using the power of Google and about twelve parenting books to create an extensive, one-hour-a-day, mini lesson to try and increase her pronunciation skills. Of course, Hyejoo already attends daycare in the mornings while you and Namjoon are off at work, and gets sufficient learning done there. So she can’t exactly sit through Joon’s lectures, no matter how pretty he tries to decorate her flashcards. She’s still tiny— she’s still your baby, and you want her to enjoy the last of her daycare years before you’re forced to submit her to the worst twelve years of her life (also known as compulsory education).

But as you’ve mentioned before, Namjoon doesn’t quite feel the same way.

“She can’t sound out the letter,” he mopes in bed that night. He’s laying down beside you, face smushed against your thigh. The lamp on your side of the bed is the only thing on, casting a faint golden hue on his cheeks.

This conversation has occurred a variety of times these past few weeks, and you’ve just about ran out of every comforting reassurance possible. You settle on stroking a hand through his hair. There are emails to respond to and clients to check in with, but there’s also a huffy husband in bed beside you who quite pitifully crawls up into your arms.

It’s with his face between your boobs that he speaks again. “What if she’s getting made fun of at school? Or her teachers think she’s dumb?” You roll your eyes. “My baby is not dumb, __,” he says, as if you don’t know. “Her IQ came back above average when I took her to the development specialist that one time, remember?” You have half the mind to tell him an IQ test on a three year old isn’t exactly valid, but there’s already enough stacked on his plate. Finding out he wasted a hundred bucks for an invalid test would just be the cherry on top of all his worries.

Water clings to the very tips of his hair, remnants of his bath with Hyejoo. Namjoon is getting older now, nothing like the dashing grad student you had met what feels like a lifetime ago. There’s bags under his eyes, bags that surpass any all-nighter-pulling college student’s, induced by none other than the sheer power of becoming a parent. And still, he retains his beauty, looks like a doll with his skin so dewy from his skincare routine, lips puffy and red and kissable.

He looks up, and you take the opportunity to place a kiss on his lips, his familiar scent making you melt into his arms. When he pulls away, there’s still a subtle furrow between his brows.

“Hyejoo is fine,” you reassure him, carding his brown hair out of his face. He leans into the touch, eyes falling shut. “Our girl is the smartest three year-old out there,” you huff, feeling the slightest bit annoyed that he could even insinuate otherwise. “And if she was having problems at school, you know I would be the first one in there, fighting all the other moms.”

Namjoon relents, face falling back into its haven between your tits. “Okay,” he mumbles, muffled from the way his plush lips drag against the soft skin over your sternum.

The subject of Namjoon’s worries is in the other room sound asleep, not the least bit concerned with measly letters and sounds. It’s really only Namjoon who is, his stack of letter flashcards glaring at you from on top of the dresser. “Your mother hen is showing,” you tease as he slips beneath the covers, leaning over you to flick off your lamp. Just like everything else in your house, his t-shirt smells like him. It’s a natural, woodsy scent that floods your nostrils and makes your toes curl when he comes so close.

Namjoon snorts as he settles beside you, beefy arm pillowing your head as he pulls you close. “I’m not a mother hen,” he says, hand on your waist, the tantalizing expanse of his neck before your eyes. “I’m the rooster— the cock,” he snickers, and you reward his terrible attempt at a joke with a pinch to his side that has him retreating to the other end of the bed.

Hyejoo’s best friend in the entire world— or, as she says, her best pren in the entire world —is none other than Park Yerin from daycare. As the universe would have it, Park Yerin is also the one and only daughter of your college philosophy seat neighbor, Park Jimin.

Crossing paths with him later down the road was not something you could ever anticipate, especially when you and Jimin were never that close in college to begin with. It was the only class you had with him in all four years, one where you had quietly acknowledged his charisma and occasionally shared homework answers, before never speaking to him again. You could have greeted him on campus, as you often crossed paths. But Park Jimin was a walking friendship magnet who seemed to bring with him a parade of followers everywhere he went, and approaching him required three layers of strategic planning if you wanted to catch him alone.

So bumping into him at the entrance of Hyejoo’s daycare six years later comes as a bit of a shock. You had never pegged him as the type to settle down so quickly— you don’t mean to label him, but there were certain college stereotypes that he fit like a glove —but there he was, carrying the tiny love of his life who’s currently dressed in a bright pink Minnie Mouse dress.

Unsurprisingly, just like her father, Park Yerin has the same enthralling personality that makes everyone in the three to four year-old daycare class want to be her friend, and your sweet little Hyejoo is not exempt.

Long story short, out of all the kids at Sunny Side Daycare, Yerin is Hyejoo’s favorite, and Hyejoo is Yerin’s favorite.

So now it’s been a little over a year since the two girls have established their friendship, which means it’s been a little over a year of acquainting yourself with Jimin again. He’s a house husband, something you never expected, and he loves his daughter like no other. Some afternoons after daycare are spent with Jimin and Yerin at the nearest coffee shop, watching the girls haphazardly scribble over every piece of paper they can get their hands on while the two of you catch up.

Overall, you’re happy Hyejoo can have a friend like Yerin, and secretly, you're also happy you can finally befriend a fellow parent as nice and put together as Jimin. On top of that, Namjoon’s liked him on the few occasions he’s met him; the two have even gone out for drinks.

However, befriending Jimin and Yerin comes at a cost, and that cost is seeing your little girl grow up.

It’s your turn to mope.

“Yerin asked her to sleepover,” you groan, sadly patting in your skincare routine the next night. Namjoon is somewhere behind you, his naked back glaring at you through the reflection of your vanity mirror. He’s so broad and big, sleep shorts clinging to his waist as he lotions up his body post-shower. There’s a thin gold chain around his neck that glints everytime he moves around, biceps flexing and bulging in plain view until he finally slips his shirt on. There was a time in your life where his back could not go more than two days unscathed, your rabid (read: horny) claw marks painting rosy trails down his spine. These days, you can barely remember the last time he’s held your hand.

“Who?” he asks once he’s settled beneath the covers with whatever book he’s reading now and his thick-rimmed reading glasses.

“Who else,” you say, tugging your night robe closer to your chest as if it’ll prevent your heart from breaking anymore than it already was. “Hyejoo’s first sleepover,” you sigh.

You take it harder than you imagined. In the back of your mind, you’ve always known your little girl was growing up— hello, you were literally watching her grow more and more inches every single day —but you had convinced yourself she would stay your baby for a little while longer. As much as you wanted her to see and learn about the world, you selfishly wanted to keep her home too. She was your baby, your only one at that.

At least Namjoon feels the same way. “Absolutely not,” he squawks, abruptly slamming his book shut. He’s usually really meticulous about lining up his fancy bookmark right on the line he left off on, so his sudden carelessness tells you all you need to know about how he feels.

You sit down beside him, hand over his. “It’s Yerin’s birthday,” you inform him in what you hope is a comforting tone; unbeknownst to him, you’re trying to reassure yourself as well. “And Jimin said he and his wife are gonna be there the whole night.” You trust Jimin, you really do. If there’s anyone who’s more in love with their kid than you and Namjoon, it’s Jimin. He would never let anything happen to his Yerin, and by extension, he would never let anything happen to your Hyejoo. He’s a good dad.

Namjoon rubs at his eyes. In the span of two minutes, he’s aged about five years. “No,” he sighs softly, squeezing your hand tightly. “Once she starts going to sleepovers she’ll start wearing makeup and getting into relationships and having her heart broken—“

A kiss is enough to silence him when he gets like this, his warm breath fanning across your bottom lip when you pull away. “She just wants to wear tutus and sing Baby Shark right now,” you murmur, hand creeping up over his chest. His heart is beating fast as hell beneath his t-shirt, feels like it’ll burst straight out of his chest if you don’t calm him down.

He’s the bigger worrier out of the two of you, has a classic case of paranoid parent syndrome.

It’s no secret that Namjoon has a big brain; he’s an educated man with a respectable job. For every problem he encounters, he can procure a variety of solutions with different approaches. He’s always prepared and part of you thinks he’s a huge reason you managed to survive those first few weeks as a mom. Unlike you, who had attended a whopping two mommy classes in preparation for your upcoming child, Namjoon had studied up on parenting. A lot. He had read books and reviewed scientific studies, had learned about development on the chemistry level and the social level, did all he could until he was confident in his own dad abilities.

But, for every solution Namjoon can find, there are always twenty-eight other factors to worry about.

“What if she has an allergic reaction and Jimin doesn’t know what to do,” he pales, death grip on your hand. His matching wedding band digs into your skin and you have to wrestle his hand away before he accidentally breaks your finger. He nearly broke your neck once when you were in college, had almost sent you to the ER mid-thrust because he had underestimated his own strength while trying to choke you.

“Hyejoo doesn’t have any allergies,” you remind him, giving up on your awkward half-seated position as you clamber over him. His thighs are full beneath you, tense up as you move over him and he manhandles you into his chest.

He’s not done. “What if she asks Jimin for a fizzy drink and he can’t understand her?” His eyes are owlish beneath his glasses, covered in what you can only describe as a visible sheen of absolute terror. “What if he thinks she’s saying ‘pissy’ not ‘fizzy,’ __— what then?” It’s amazing, really, how a man who graduated cum laude can hypothesize this many disasters pertaining to a four year-old’s sleepover.

In the other room, Hyejoo calls for you, so you gladly take the opportunity to remove yourself from Namjoon and his spiraling thoughts. “Look,” you say, tightening the sash of your robe as you get back up. “I’m gonna go tell her that she can go to Yerin’s sleepover tomorrow,” you tell him, giving him exactly three seconds to groan dramatically, before continuing, “and you figure out how to turn that big brain off by the time I come back.”

Luckily, the cause of Hyejoo’s sudden wake up is a tiny bug bite she got from playing outside that just won’t stop itching. “Mommy, it hurts,” she whines, digging her nails into the tiny red mark by her knee.

“Uh huh, lemme see,” you order, turning on her bedside lamp to illuminate the space. Her room is the prettiest shade of yellow, fitting for a ball of sunshine such as herself. “Were you playing by the flowerbeds?” You ask, running a finger over the mark a little too weird looking to simply be another mosquito bite.

She knows she’s not supposed to play near the flowers— the bugs like her a little too much. It’s with a hesitant little nod that she confesses to it. You give her a pointed look. “You’re not supposed to play too close to the flowers,” you remind her, a tiny scolding for now.

With a sniffle she responds, “not by the plowers.”

A little bit of anti-itch cream has her settling, and by the time you return to your bedroom, Namjoon is out cold.

“How old is Yerin turning?” Namjoon asks her at the door, heartbreak clearly painting his features as you help Hyejoo into her shoes.

“Pour,” she beams, her tiny hand held up to show four stubby fingers. She has Namjoon’s pretty smile, an honest look in her eyes that makes you want to put her in your pocket and never let her go. Alas, Yerin’s sleepover party starts at five and Hyejoo has been trying to leave since noon.

“Pour,” Namjoon repeats, shooting you a pointed look as if to say see. He had fought the decision up until the end, had even tried to tactically convince your daughter to stay home by getting a head start on preparing her favorite food. And well. She said no. So now the two of you are stuck having dinosaur chicken nuggets for dinner without her.

She’s got her little travel bag on now, tiny feet stuffed into her ladybug rain boots because it had rained last night and she’s awfully addicted to jumping in muddy puddles. She’s absolutely adorable, your little girl, and you think Namjoon might’ve let out a tiny sob earlier. (Or maybe it was you.)

Namjoon joins you at the front door. “Be good,” he warns her. His eyes are suspiciously wet, but you don’t say anything because yours are too. You’re both crouched in front of her, her big eyes glancing back and forth between the two of you without a care in the world. Mixing your self-assured personality with Namjoon’s (mostly) composed attitude was quite possibly the worst genetic crossover to ever happen; Hyejoo doesn’t even seem remotely bothered by the fact she’s spending her first night away from home. Meanwhile, you and Namjoon are on the verge of a joint breakdown.

Anyway, Namjoon gives in first. “Love you forever, princess,” he tells her, their ritual expression, and kisses her forehead.

She accepts it and then, in an unexpected turn of events, surges forward to hug him around the neck. “Love you pporever, daddy,” she repeats, and your heart feels so painfully full at the sight, like you just unlocked a new life achievement from seeing your daughter and her father be so cute together. You don’t get to coo at them for long, because then she’s giving you a warm hug as well, the same phrase muttered in your ear.

It’s the hardest thing about parenting.

Seeing your kid slowly broaden their horizons, meeting new people and learning new things. Leaving home. (Granted, she’ll be back by tomorrow afternoon but even that feels like an eternity away to the dramatic parents you and Namjoon have become.) The second goodbye on Jimin’s doorstep isn’t any easier, especially when Hyejoo tugs on your arm and asks you to “say night to daddy please” for her, and your heart breaks just a little more. Jimin flashes you an understanding smile but all you want to do is punch him in the nose for ever telling Yerin what a sleepover is.

You get home and Namjoon is in a calmer state by now, some old sitcom he hates playing on the TV. Usually, this time of day is reserved for his daily phonemic lessons with Hyejoo, drilling the f sound into her tiny brain, so you guess this is his preferred method of coping in its place: torturing himself with some boring television show.

“Hey,” he says, and you crawl into his lap with a sad sniffle. “Shh,” he soothes, hand on the back of your head as he guides you into his chest. You’re actually crying now, which is super embarrassing in itself considering you scolded Namjoon for this exact behavior last night. He doesn’t mention it as he pats your back, stupid sitcom paused in favor of soothing you with the deep vibrations of his voice. “Hye’s gonna be back tomorrow, baby.”

“I want her back now,” you huff, vaguely aware of how childish and silly you sound. The tables have turned, and you find yourself wishing you had the same emotional fortitude as Namjoon now. All those parenting books have clearly amounted for something. Somehow, you will the feeling back into your body and pull away from his chest. You must look a mess because he doesn’t even try to hide the amusement on his face. “This is the worst day of my life.”

Namjoon laughs, deep and hearty, with his eyes squeezing shut from the force. “Come on, wifey, those chicken nuggets aren’t gonna eat themselves.”

It’s quite possibly the most boring evening you’ve had in years.

(The internet calls it new parent syndrome, where you’re so undeniably in love with your first child and the parenting experience that the rest of the world is put on pause.)

You love Namjoon, honest. But you love your daughter Hyejoo even more— it’s not a controversial sentiment when you know he’s the same way! —and going back to a regular adult life sans kids absolutely sucks. (Or so you thought.)

Kids are prone to asking weirdly philosophical questions, a fact that had greatly delighted you when Hyejoo first started speaking. Who am I? What’s money? Why not? It could get annoying sometimes, trying to answer all of Hyejoo’s curiosities. But as you begin on your second batch of dinosaur chicken nuggets, all you can think about is how Jimin gets to answer them tonight.

Anyway, seven rolls around and you and Namjoon are bored. You can only watch so many episodes of Seinfield before you get tired of feigning interest, so you retire from the living room for the night. “I’m gonna take a bath,” you tell him, but he’s as brain dead as you by now.

A second later, “lemme join.”

It’s been a while since the two of you have squeezed into the bathtub together, usually assigning each other days to individually join Hyejoo. So it’s really not either of your faults when you realize a second too late how small the space is. One on each end, feet bumping into each other with every movement, it’s like trying to squeeze two feet into one shoe. You try to readjust yourself, but the bath flooring is slippery and you nearly take away Namjoon’s procreative abilities with a mighty kick.

To make a long story short, you end up pressed against his chest, Namjoon’s thick thighs framing you as you relax into the steaming water. Instinctively, he reaches for Hyejoo’s bottle of baby shampoo that sits on the tub’s ledge and only catches himself just as the first droplet is meeting his palm. “Oh, fuck,” he sighs, quickly closing the lid before he can waste any more precious product. “Shit, I’m so sad.”

You snort, sinking farther back into his chest. He’s warm and soft in all the right ways, the hot water making him slippery. “What did we even do before Hyejoo?” you ask, reaching into the deepest crevices of your mind for answers. Namjoon’s hand comes around, fingers sprawled out over your knee, the one you have propped up and breaking the water’s surface

He makes a rather vague sound, something like I don’t know, as he lolls forward, forehead on your shoulder. “Go on dates,” he responds eventually. “Fuck like crazy.”

You roll your eyes. “Besides that,” you chide, pinching the back of his palm. “Don’t we have any hobbies? Any interests?” He doesn’t answer, which is all the answer you need. Why didn’t you get into puzzle solving back when it was a trend? “Is this what our life has become? Crying in a bathtub at seven pm because our emotional support child isn’t here?”

“Our only child,” he corrects. Namjoon tries to placate your looming existential crisis with a kiss to your shoulder, lips against wet skin, that he trails up to your neck. “And what’s wrong with going on dates and fucking?” he murmurs, hands around your stomach. “That’s how we got here,” he teases, and you’re not sure if it’s the warm water or the way his voice is like melted chocolate dripping down your body, but you become all too aware of his presence at that moment. Particularly, of the plush lips mindlessly kissing your shoulder, the wet smack of their motions.

Another kiss, this time right below your ear. It has your head rolling to the side, exposing more skin for him to kiss up on. There’s still that overwhelming cloud of worry in the back of your mind, but it’s gradually nudged away by Namjoon’s warm hands on your skin. Sensing your weakening resolve, Namjoon strikes again. A hand slips down over your stomach, brushes over your belly button and finds itself between your thighs. “You used to love date nights, baby,” he says, the pad of his pointer finger grazing your clit.

It’s been so long since you and Namjoon have been alone like this, months since you’ve been able to touch him beyond a simple make out session, a halfhearted grope beneath the sheets. Your daughter, as much as you loved her, made intimacy impossible for the two of you. She was always around, always looking for one or the both of you, so there was never time to even think about getting frisky.

Only now, with his finger circling your clit, do you realize the blessing in disguise that was your daughter’s first slumber party away from home.

His finger nudges your clit, flicks it teasingly. “Why don’t you let me take care of you, hm?” he hums, the hand that had been soothingly stroking the inside of your thigh coming up to rub at your breasts.

“Yes, please,” you whine. Resting your head on his shoulder leaves Namjoon with a clear view down your front, lips kissing and sucking along your neck. His huge hand palms your breast, massaging the sensitive skin. You hadn’t realized how sore you’d been until now, his nimble fingers pressing deliciously into the skin. If your nipples weren’t already hard before, they certainly were now.

He traps one pearled nipple between two fingers, the sudden pinch making you hiss. “Easy, now,” he chuckles, his low tenor paired with his wandering hands making your eyes roll back.

Namjoon liked to use a higher tone around the house. He read somewhere that children prefer lighter, sweeter tones, so the last few years have been spent listening to him lighten the tone of his voice for the sake of your daughter. The deeper, growlier voice that had first made you fall in love with him became a rarity in your household, reserved for quiet nights in the living room or long drives where Hyejoo was asleep in the backseat. Only then does he unleash the gravelly qualities of his voice.

Then, and apparently, now.

His doll-like lips press against your jaw, suck lightly enough to make your body tingle. “Do you remember how it was the first time?” he says suddenly, his hot breath against your neck.

Namjoon’s got your clit trapped between two wandering fingers, has your pussy twitching with the vibrations of his voice alone. And for some reason, he’s trying to reminisce about your first time sleeping together.

“N- Not really,” you confess, subtly reaching down. You cover his palm with yours, hoping your touch will encourage him to carry on with his actions. It doesn’t. It just leaves both your hands hovering over your pussy, your thighs instinctively closing in on them to keep him there. Namjoon responds to that, releasing the breast he had been gently massaging in order to pry your legs apart. He does it so easily, despite the way your legs feel tight as hell, and the fact makes you whimper.

Once he’s got his hands back between your thighs— this time, he uses one hand to carefully part your quivering lips, the other one gingerly pressing down against your clit to draw the most heavenly sensations out of you —Namjoon feels the need to dive into a recap of your first fuck. “You were so cute,” he laughs, and you don’t know if you should take offense. Well, considering you're married and have a kid now, it’s probably too late to say anything anyway. His hand suddenly switches gears, three fingers joining together to begin caressing them over your throbbing clit. “Kept talking to me so politely, even when you were creaming my cock.”

You scoff, but it gets cancelled out by the moan he draws out of you. “D- Didn’t know you that well,” you remind him, your thighs twitching. You desperately want to buck forward into his giving hands, want to feel the true power of those long, pretty fingers on your cunt.

Behind you, Namjoon’s cock grows thick, his breathing a slow and steady pace by your ear. You can already imagine how heavy he is, the vein that runs along the underside and throbs with each new bit of stimulus he receives. Normally you would reach back and try to offer him the same helping hand he gives you, but your thighs feel wobbly already. Your libido has been dormant for so long that even just the barest flick of his thumb has you dissolving into his arms like this is your first time.

It’s as if Namjoon’s sensing your inner battle, a muffled laugh against the side of your neck. “This is about you,” he reminds you. As much as you want to protest, a sudden hard rub against your quivering lips has you gasping for breath. “Give me a kiss,” he commands softly, nudging his nose against the side of your face. It takes a second for you to ground yourself, draw yourself away from your building pleasure, to turn toward his waiting lips.

Namjoon kisses you slowly, like he’s taking his time with you. For the first time in a long time, he truly can. He doesn’t have to worry about a certain someone waking up in the middle of the night or walking in or anything along those lines, lips molding against yours. Plush as always, the faint taste of dinosaur chicken nuggets clinging to his lips. It makes you laugh a little, drawing away with an airy giggle. Namjoon smiles at your reaction, murmuring a soft, “what is it?”

You shake your head, eyes fluttering shut as he continues his circular motions against your clit. “Nothing,” you pant, finally getting in your first thrust against his fingers. “I just really need you,” you say instead, pushing his hand harder down against you.

You’re feeling a little antsy, having been deprived of this sensation for so long. Namjoon knows this, which is why he very purposely slows down. “There’s no rush,” he smirks, placing a kiss against your chin. “How do you want it, baby?”

The inside of your brain is a scrambled mess, filled with fantasies and ideas that have been plaguing you for months. There’s so much you want to do, want to try, but it’s like your brain completely blanks out when he asks. It’s just as you’re beginning to formulate a thought that you’re interrupted by the sound of your ringtone in the other room. Your husband’s arms tighten around you. “Don’t go,” he says quietly, the tip of his nose running along your neck. It’s so tempting to stay here, to let yourself go in his arms and chase the pleasure you’ve been craving for so long.

But the endless possibilities of who exactly could be calling wins over. Was it work? Was it your parents? Jimin?

It is with a heavy sigh that you reach for Namjoon’s hand, slowly pushing him away from your cunt. “I’m sorry, honey,” you frown, standing up out of the tub. Your legs really do feel like jelly, and you nearly slip and crack your skull on the porcelain edge. Luckily, Namjoon is there to steady you with two secure hands on your waist. “I’ll make it quick,” you reassure him, dropping a kiss on his pouty lips as you fasten a towel around your body.

The phone is just starting up its final ring when you reach it. It’s Jimin, and you’re torn between being thankful that you’re getting word on Hyejoo and full blown panic from the fact Jimin is calling you while Hyejoo is in his care. The unease has you accepting the call without a second more to waste. “Hello?” you say, hand tightening on the front of your towel. Stray water droplets trace ticklish trails down the backs of your thighs.

“__?” comes Jimin’s sweet voice. It’s normally soothing, but right now it has every hair on your body standing on end. Before you can even respond, Jimin is jumping headfirst into a whirlwind of a conversation. “Sorry for calling so late, but I just wanted to check in on you, babe. I know you were really panicked about Hye’s first night away from home, but don’t worry! Me and the missus are doing everything we can to make sure she’s fine.”

His confidence reassures you, lessens the weight that had been sitting on your chest all afternoon. But at the same time, you find yourself wanting to throttle him.

Your gorgeous, sexy hunk of a husband is sitting in the other room, cock at full mast and ready to pleasure you to the moon and back, and here you are listening to Jimin brag about how good of a caretaker he is. You were definitely going to make Jimin pay for this.

Deep breaths, you tell yourself, toying with a stray thread on your towel. “Really,” you drawl, and you can practically see Jimin’s ego swell over the line.

“Yup,” Jimin agrees, and by the sounds of it, doesn’t seem like he’s hoping to end this call anytime soon. You want to shoulder part of the blame; you had been extra sad and mopey when you dropped your daughter off. On top of being a good dad, Jimin was also a good friend. It was only naturally he wanted to reassure you when he could.

Still, the memory of Namjoon’s wet chest was calling out to you.

“The girls are playing princess in the living room with the missus right now,” Jimin chats on. “New dresses and everything— the Yerin Birthday Special —and they asked me to be their handsome prince!” You sincerely cannot wait for the day you get to introduce Jimin to your right fist.

“That’s great,” you offer, not that he’s really listening. He’s too busy talking about Yerin (and making sure to include Hyejoo in for your sake) and how amazing it is to watch your kids grow up before your very eyes. And while you agree with the sentiment, you really wish he had called you and told you this earlier, when you were at the peak of your motherly meltdown. Not now with Namjoon waiting for you in the bathtub. Was the water even warm anymore?

The mind blowing orgasm practically slips from your fingertips the longer Jimin talks. “Anyway! Enough about them. I’m thinking of trying out that blueberry bread recipe that aired on TV last night. You know, the one they had that actress make.”

You’ve just about resigned yourself to listening to Jimin talk about his love for pastries for the next thirty minutes when something brushes up behind you. “What the fu—“

He’s so tall and broad, practically covers your entire frame when he stands so close. And his smile is so pretty when he aims it your way. “Sh,” Namjoon murmurs, gesturing towards your phone.

“__?” Jimin calls. “Everything alright?”

Namjoon nods eagerly, the hands on your waist properly positioning you in front of him. It’s with a shudder running down your spine that you respond. “I’m fine,” you tell Jimin, letting go of the front of your towel when Namjoon abruptly pushes you over. The white comforter infused with both of your scents comes all too close, your elbow barely managing to reach out in time to catch you.

Wide eyed, you turn to throw Namjoon a scandalized look over your shoulder. He meets you with a close-mouthed smile, the dimples in his cheeks making themselves known. His chest is drier now, the smooth planes covered in a thin dewy glow and a spattering of droplets he missed. There’s a towel around his waist that’s barely doing its job, especially when you catch sight of the erection tenting beneath it.

“As I was saying,” Jimin rambles on. Namjoon nods towards the device, refusing to move again until you finally turn back around to finish your conversation with Jimin. “That actress fucked it up so bad. They really give anyone with a pretty face screen time these days, huh? At least I know how to properly preheat an oven.”

You nod. “You do make the best cookies in town,” you respond, a ball of anticipation building in your throat from the mere fact Namjoon is standing behind you.

It’s completely warranted once you feel two cold fingers trail up the back of your thigh, your towel gradually pushed up to drape around your waist. The air in your room is a little chilly, and the goosebumps that raise on your skin are partly due to that, as well as the ghostlike touch of Namjoon’s fingers. “Pretty,” he murmurs, so deep and gravelly it has you shuddering.

Two fingers dance along your skin, and you subconsciously jolt away when they meet the tender skin around your pussy. By your ear, Jimin says, “if I completely fuck it up, we’ll just pretend this conversation never happened. Deal?”

Using your own body against you, Namjoon lets one finger dip just the smallest bit into your quivering hole. You clench up, thighs trembling when he eventually pulls it back out and traces your own wetness over your folds. “Perfect,” you bite out, clutching at the sheets beneath you as Namjoon reaches for your forgotten clit. It’s still so sensitive from your little fun in the bath, and it takes every ounce of strength in you to hold back the whiny gasp in your throat.

Behind you, Namjoon suddenly presses in close. One hand on your hip, he gently encourages you onto the bed. Your knees sink into the mattress, one less strain on your legs. “Good girl,” he praises quietly, rewarding your behavior with a finger sinking into your cunt.

“Joo—“ you almost slip, burying your face into the sheets just in time.

A devastatingly slow pace, his finger just barely moving in and out of you. The bulk of your pleasure is coming from that bundle of nerves towards your front, but the teasing gesture isn’t appreciated anyway. When he leans over you, breath against your neck, you feel the length of his cock against your thigh. “He’s asking you a question,” Namjoon whispers, “answer him, baby.”

You nod, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he presses himself closer. Jimin hasn’t even noticed your lack of participation, mindlessly humming a song. The sounds of a running sink highlight his vocals. “Oh, absolutely,” you babble. “I wouldn’t tell a soul.”

“Ha!” Jimin scoffs. “I knew I could always count on you, Miss __,” he snarks playfully.

The hand toying with your clit comes around your waist, fingers stroking against your folds from this new angle. A silent moan has you writhing forward, unconsciously away from him as Jimin babbles on the other end of the line. He’s none the wiser to the lewd acts happening on the line, listening to the sound of his own voice. Namjoon lands a mean little bite against your shoulder, plunging his finger deeper inside of your clenching hole.

Paired with his teasing fingers, it’s nearly impossible to withhold your moans, biting your lip until it stings. “Fuck, fuck,” you whimper against the sheets, holding your phone as far away as possible from your mouth as a litany of curse words spill from your lips. Namjoon chuckles at your dramatics, not like he has his fingers deep inside of you right now or anything.

“So cute,” he hums, removing his hand from your clit to snatch your towel away. It gives way too easily, messily thrown over the edge of the bed. With your back completely exposed now, Namjoon wastes no time trailing a line of kisses up your spine, finishing off with an especially wet and hard one behind your ear. “Hang up now.”

His permission sets your body on edge, drawing your phone close again. Jimin is talking about dinner or something, you don’t even know. Not an ounce of remorse fills you when you clear your throat and hurriedly announce, “I have to—“ Namjoon’s cock, finally uncovered by his towel, presses against your folds and you nearly lose it. “—I have to go now, Jimin,” you say, leveling your breathing as best as you can.

“Wait, what the fuck?” Jimin says, thrown off by your sudden departure.

The mushroom tip of his cock kisses your clit. “Fuck— I really have to go.” And you hang up, chucking the phone off to the side hastily. With your hands both freed, you scramble onto your back, meeting the amused gaze of your husband behind you. “Fuck me, now.”

Namjoon laughs, reaching for the towel barely clinging onto his waist. One suave swoop later and it joins yours on the floor. “You did good,” he praises, lowering himself between your spread thighs. You roll your eyes, grabby hands reaching for his hips until he’s sitting snugly against you, cock resting over your throbbing cunt.

“Yeah, yeah,” you snap, the tight feeling in your tummy growing with every second that passes. Namjoon isn’t as unaffected as he pretends to be, a pearly bead of cum appearing at the tip of his engorged cock. “Just fuck me now.”

He raises a brow. “Missionary?” As if it’s the first time.

“Is there something wrong with it?” you ask anyway, self-consciously reaching an arm over yourself to cover your naked breasts. They’ve pebbled over just from his stare alone.

Namjoon hesitates, the hand on your hip drawing slow circles with his thumb. Eventually, he responds with a halfhearted shrug. “It’s not the best.” This is news to you, and you find yourself sitting up at the sudden bomb he’s dropped.

He’s still hard as rock between you, his dick laying almost artfully against your slit. You really just want to throw aside all reservations and begin grinding against him, penetration be damned, but now Namjoon’s got that thoughtful quirk to his lips. The one that usually accompanies any big brained idea, so you settle down, nudging him with your thigh until he’s looking at you again. “Penny for your thoughts?” What you really want to say is please fuck me like I’m just another cum rag of yours and make it hurt, but alas.

Namjoon sits back on his haunches. “I read somewhere that on your hands and knees is the best way to get pregnant.” You choke on your own tongue, face ablaze from his forward statement. Meanwhile, Namjoon is looking as relaxed as ever.

You hadn’t really discussed children after Hyejoo. The wordless agreement had been that sure, you were both down for another kid sometime in the future. But the exact date had sort of been murky. Hyejoo is three now, and you heard from another mom that it’s difficult for children with wide age gaps to get along. You don’t want her growing up being far removed from another sibling.

But also, now?

It’s like Namjoon knows your thoughts before you even do. “Alright, wifey, say no more,” he says, leaning down to place a kiss against your lips. “I’ll get the condom, alright?”

And then he’s stepping off the bed, every muscle of his toned body flexing as he swaggers over towards the dresser. He’s a walking dream, the physical embodiment of all your crazy sex fantasies, and he wants to fuck a baby into you. Your pussy says yes, but your rationality is still on the fence.

You roll onto your side, head propped into your open palm. “You want another baby?” you ask tentatively. Namjoon shrugs, carefully opening the new box of condoms you had bought half a year ago.

“It wouldn’t hurt to have another kid,” he answers, procuring a tiny foil packet from the box and returning to his spot between your legs. It’s like staring at a marble statue from this angle, the defined planes of his chest and abdomen, the gorgeous slope of his nose, the sharp angles of his face. You really lucked out.

Your decision comes just as he’s easing the rubber over the tip of his cock, the swollen head just barely enveloped. You place a hand against his wrist, earning his attention. “Take it off,” you mumble, and you swear on your entire life he swells another inch.

“Oh, baby,” he groans, hastily throwing the condom somewhere across the room. He rolls over you, bulging arms sweeping you up into his embrace, lips capturing yours in a sloppy kiss. You whimper, letting his tongue push itself past your lips. When he pulls away, it’s with a wet pop and glistening lips. They’re so puffy now, flushed a nice rosy color, that makes him look even more handsome when he smiles down at you. “Gonna look so pretty all pregnant,” he beams, placing a chaste kiss against you one last time before he’s hurriedly rolling you onto your stomach.

You hide your bashful expression against the sheets, suddenly feeling very shy before him. But then Namjoon’s cock is running along your lips and you’re left a shivering mess. “Please just fuck me,” you beg hoarsely, and Namjoon obeys.

“Whatever you want, wifey,” he teases, and before you can call him out for his cheesiness, he’s pressing his thumb into your aching hole once more. “Is this okay?” he asks, somberly for the first time in what seems like forever.

“I’m okay,” you confess, a little shyly now that you know his true motives.

Namjoon chuckles, quickly removing his finger from inside of you to give your ass one soothing pat. “Going in,” he warns you, and finally, you’re rewarded for all your struggles. It’s only as his mushroom head squeezes in that you realize you could have done with a bit more stretching, but that thought fades away the more and more he pushes in. “Fuck,” he groans, the low intonation of his voice making your toes curl.

If it’s not his voice, it’s the sheer length of his cock inside of you. The girth makes your spine tingle, has you muffling a pitiful whimper into the comforter beneath you. “Relax for me,” he directs, and then suddenly he’s placing a palm against your back, pushing you further down. “Hips up.”

You groan. The normally soft fabric of the blanket feels like hell on your sensitive breasts. “I’m trying,” you whine, pushing back onto him in an effort to familiarize yourself with his cock again. It’s been so long since he’s been inside of you like this, since he’s filled you so well, that your body acts a little stupid now. He hasn’t even begun thrusting and you already feel like you’ll cum just from this.

The angle is different than your usual style, has him moving along every inch of you as he sinks in. Two big hands grab at your waist, manhandling you closer to him until you’re just like he wants you to be. “There we go,” he sighs, and with him motionless, you finally relax. It’s about a two second pause before he begins to draw himself back out. “How do you want it?” he grunts, but it’s lost beneath the moan that escapes you. It’s the same question he asked you in the tub, right before Jimin called, except this time you have an answer.

“Fast,” you gasp, the pain from the stretch finally, finally, melting away as your body grows accustomed to his presence inside of you. “Do it fast, please.”

Namjoon does as he’s told, waiting until he’s pulled out until the tip to satisfy your requests. And then he’s off.

Your body isn’t as young as it once was, left a little worn from the entire child-bearing process. Sometimes you wonder how exactly you and Namjoon would fuck until sunrise before, how your sex drive was so high that it allowed such a thing to happen. Admittedly, there’s currently a stiffness inside of you that has been there for a while now, and you barely remember how you got rid of it before. Apparently, this is how.

Namjoon’s hard cock rams into you once, makes you release the most embarrassingly loud moan at the sudden intrusion, and it’s like all those months of tension that built up in your body are melted away. His cock pushes past your folds, creating a lewd squelching sound that would otherwise leave you mortified to learn it came from your body. You shudder, desperately pushing your ass back against him in a feeble attempt to feel it again.

“Still so fucking tight for me,” he growls, snapping his hips forwards. His skin slaps against yours, leaves you feeling tender from the brutal movements of his body. But at the same time, it feels absolutely terrific.

Your lips are still coated in your own wetness, have him noisily moving in and out. “J- Joon,” you whimper softly, but you doubt he hears it over the sound of his own labored breathing. “More.”

He responds with a sudden piston inside of you that has the tip of his cock nearly kissing your cervix. “More?” he huffs, the hand on your back pressing down until you fear you’ll become one with the mattress. “You want more?” You nod hurriedly, somehow managing to stretch a hand down between you to toy with your clit. The brush of your own fingers has you bucking back onto him in surprise.

Wordlessly, he speeds up his pace, thrusting his hips into your velvety walls at a faster speed than before. It’s a weird sensation, a sort of ticklish feeling m that makes you tremble with each roll forward. You can’t say the two of you have done it in this position a lot, always preferring the more romantic missionary position to anything else, but this experience was quickly making you an avid believer of its validity as a top tier sex position.

You swirl your pointer finger around your clit, trying to sync up your shaky touch with his steady thrusts. It’s useless, because every time you feel like you’ve gotten into the same groove, Namjoon one ups you by hauling you back against him. “Oh, f- fuck,” you sob, clawing at the sheets beneath you.

Namjoon groans, momentarily pausing his rapid thrusts to roll his buried cock against you. “Come on, baby,” he husks, the hilt of his cock kissing your folds.

There’s a lot of built up sexual tension inside of you, months on top of months of nothingness. Not to mention that little scene in the bathtub just now. So you’re not really surprised that your orgasm rears its head so early, curling up tightly in your stomach the longer Namjoon fucks you. He’s back to thrusting now, shallow little movements that make you see stars every time his cock glides inside of you. “Joon, I'm gonna...” you rasp out pitifully, grinding back against him.

“Whenever you want,” he murmurs, leaning forward to press a kiss against your shoulder. It’s sweet, but on top of that, it has him pushing in further than before, finally pressed against that sensitive spot inside of you that makes your entire body lock up. You sob, thighs quivering when he reaches an arm around you. It’s almost romantic how your hands meet, his fingers covering yours as he guides them over your clit slowly. “Give it to me, baby,” he croons, lips pressed securely against your neck. He leaves soft kisses there, smooches really, that make you melt.

Another shallow buck of his hips forward and you’re cumming, breaths picking up until they accumulate into a choked wail against the sheets. “Fuck— oh, fuck,” you cry, your thighs spasming from the force of your first satisfying orgasm in months. Namjoon holds you through it, slowly thrusting inside of you until he’s drawn out your entire orgasm.

The new added pleasure makes his movements sound even wetter, dirtier even. “That’s it,” he purrs, pushing himself back up to his full height behind you. You feel absolutely boneless beneath him, laying limply against the mattress as Namjoon repositions your hips for himself. “Can I finish like this, sweetheart?” he asks anyway, thumbs drawing a soothing pattern along your hip.

You can barely catch your breath, so you settle on a halfhearted nod that has him huffing out a laugh.

For some reason, Namjoon fucks you harder once he knows you’ve had your fill. Like he’s trying to draw another orgasm out of you, but is also the least bit concerned with you. Honestly, it works. He moves fast and hard, like he has no regard for your pleasure, and for some reason that turns you on more than it should. It’s this weird fantasy of yours, to be mistreated by a man as respectful as Namjoon, and you find yourself weirdly fulfilling it now as he fucks his cock into you.

His fingers dig into your skin, wildly bucking into you as he chases his own high, and it’s embarrassing how quickly a second one builds up for you. You moan at one particular thrust, body sensitive all over. “Oh,” you whimper, “Namjoon.”

He grunts, your cries fueling him on as he continues his mad race to the end. “Gonna cum with me again?” he pants, his quick pace rocking you forward. You nod, using your killer grip on the sheets to ground yourself as you weakly attempt to meet his thrusts. “Aren’t you the sweetest,” he hums, and doesn’t let you respond as he continues to jackhammer his way into your pussy at a bruising pace.

It takes a few more thrusts, and one whiny cry of his name— “come on, Joonie,” you whimper, turning to throw him a teary-eyed gaze over your shoulder; he shudders at the sight —until Namjoon is finally tipped over the edge, shooting his pleasure deep into you on the next thrust. It’s warm, paints your walls and threatens to spill out when he finally pulls out.

But Namjoon has read up, using those big strong arms of his to keep you from collapsing onto your tummy as he scrambles around for something to keep your hips up. “It sticks better this way,” he says, a sheen of sweat against his temples when he flops down beside you.

“What sticks better,” you groan, the achy feeling of just having your world rocked quickly settling into your bones.

Namjoon leans forward and places a kiss against your lips, as if saying here, for all your hard work. “You know... it,” he shrugs, hands behind his head as he prepares himself to supervise your post-sex nap, just to make sure you don’t accidentally move around and let his cum leak out. “You did good, wifey,” he praises with another smooch. “Maybe we should let Hyejoo sleep over at Jimin’s more.”

Hyejoo’s return is the highlight of the year.

You pick her up around noon, and your heart nearly grows ten sizes when you see her come running down Jimin’s front steps and into your arms. “Hi, mommy,” she beams, the same smile as Namjoon. And just like Namjoon, you can’t stop yourself from covering her face in tiny kisses. She says they tickle and squirms and squeals in your embrace.

Jimin’s at the door with this weirdly blank look on his face. “Hey, Jimin,” you call out, helping Hyejoo load her bag into the backseat.

“Hey…” he greets, just as Hyejoo frantically begins calling for you to buckle her in. “Um, __,” Jimin says, but you’re a little busy securing the tiny love of your life into her booster seat, so you just throw him a quick glance to let him know you’re listening. Kinda. “There’s something I have to tell you—“

“I wanna see daddy!” Hyejoo babbles from the backseat, wildly waving her hands around as you finally close the door on her. With it shut, her loud voice is drowned out and you’re left raising a brow at Jimin as you round the front of the car.

“What’s up?” you ask.

Jimin comes down the steps, awkwardly hovering by the front of your car. “Um, when we were on the phone—“ Hyejoo knocks her tiny hands against the window, gesturing for you to hurry up. You flash Jimin an apologetic frown at the interruption. “Well, you see. She kinda heard us— well, me—”

Another flurry of knocks, and you can’t wait to relay to Namjoon how excited your daughter had been to see him again. It’ll boost his ego, not that he really needs it to be any bigger. “That’s fine,” you tell Jimin, swinging your door open. Immediately, Hyejoo’s high-pitched voice fills the space between you and Jimin. “You know I don’t mind talking to the missus,” you joke, nudging his side. “She’s my friend too, ya know.”

“Gotta show daddy something!” Hyejoo shouts from the backseat, has this big smile on her face that makes you smile as well.

Beside you, Jimin is quickly falling apart. “No, well—” you drop down into your seat “it wasn’t her who heard—“ You shut the door, lowering the window to thank Jimin one more time. Hyejoo beats you to it.

“Bye, Mr. Jimin!” she says, tiny legs kicking around all wildly in her excitement. You shake your head with a grin, waving goodbye to Jimin one last time as you pull out of his driveway.

“Daddy!” Hyejoo shrieks upon entering your home. Her tiny overnight bag is tossed down at the entryway, ladybug rain boots haphazardly kicked towards the general direction of the shoe closet. Namjoon had been upstairs in his study when you left, but he now comes bounding down the steps at the sound of your daughter’s voice. He cries out a dopey, “princess”, as he scoops her up in his big arms. He does a twirl and everything, so dramatic. But it makes Hyejoo giggle like crazy.

She allows one big fat kiss against her chubby cheeks before she’s shushing him with the news of her announcement. “Daddy, look,” she beams, holding his face between her tiny hands. “I can say the f sound now!”

Namjoon has been avidly working towards this ability for months now. Namjoon, who has spent nights reading every page of every child development book possible, who has spent hours decorating pretty flashcards for her, who has sectioned off time from his busy schedule everyday just to go over lessons with her. Well, Namjoon looks over the goddamn moon at the news.

“Let’s hear it, honey,” you urge, stepping in when his happiness renders him incapable of speech. So he just nods along, looks like a bobblehead doll beside you.

And with both of her proud, sometimes overprotective, parents standing before her, Hyejoo puts on a big grin and says, “fuck.”

#bangtanhq #networkbangtan #namjoon smut #kim namjoon smut #namjoon fic #kim namjoon fic #knj fic #bts fic #bts smut #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x reader smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x reader smut #mine

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bittersweetmorality · 3 years

Note

OMG CAN U PLS WRITE A SUB CHUUYA SMUT I BEG

ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE BABIE!! sub chuuya is my favorite chuuya 😋😋 sorry this took so long !! i was actually admitted to the hospital and .. YUH so i haven't been able to do literally anything for a bit. but ! i back. also i was listening to the Mitski cover of Let's Get Married the entire time i wrote this ANYWAY i hope u enjoy ^_^

— i'm going to take such good care of you, baby~ pt. 1

☾ pairing: sub!chuuya x GN!Reader (f!bodied reader in the next part, but no pronouns specified in either)

☾ summary: chuuya wants you to take care of him

☾ warnings: very suggestive themes, but no explicit smut (yet), making out, i think that's it

☾ a/n: HIHI Y'ALL. i'm currently writing the second part and it's basically finished, i just thought the only way to pace this fic out was by separating it into two part-- idk why it just seemed off to me if it wasn't. BUT ANYWAY ! SECOND PART OUT VERY VERY SOON !!! and it's literally filthy like ... lord have mercy

☾ w/c: 1,358

| PART TWO |

the entire evening, chuuya was barely being subtle about his feelings— his desire. light touches on your thigh that lasted a little too long not to arouse suspicion, kisses that lingered farther than they should’ve, and the dark look in his eyes as his gaze drank your figure.

even the most oblivious person could tell what was going on— chuuya was never one to hide his feelings, anyway. even at an extravagant event like the annual port mafia gala, he still managed to show enough PDA to make anyone uncomfortable.

pressing you against him on the dance floor, trying his best to subtly (but failing miserably) grind against you, bringing his face down to your neck.

“chuuya!” you yelped, as he nipped a small mark against your collarbone. “i told you, we’re leaving soon, can’t you calm down for just another 10 minutes?”

you weren’t against PDA— of course not. you knew what you were signing up for when you agreed to be his girlfriend. but, you just wished that he would be professional for this one night and hold himself together so you didn’t have to shield your eyes from the stares of mafia members.

“aw, are you flustered?” his movements were slightly sloppy from his light alcohol consumption, and you could feel his smirk against your skin. you scoffed, placing your hands on his shoulders and pushing ever so slightly for him to look you in the eyes.

he didn’t move an inch.

“no. i’m not flustered, chuuya,” you tried again, with more force this time. “i just—“ again. he still didn’t budge.

with a huff, and your patience running dangerously thin, you grabbed his chin harshly. his eyes instantly met yours, big and full of surprise.

“we’re going. now.” your voice wasn’t loud, but it would be nothing if not powerful; stern.

you had his undivided attention now.

he blinked dumbly a few times before snapping back to reality, and doing his best to regain some semblance of composure “ahem— the gala doesn’t end for another half an hour, babe. we’re in no rush, are we~” he moved in to steal another kiss, his eyes dark and his hands lingering.

your jaw tensed, and your grip on him even rougher now, “did you hear what i said? now.” you nothing but growled lowly in his ear.

you swear you could hear his breath hitch in his throat, but at that moment your frustration ran far too high to find the means to care. you grabbed his hand, speeding to the front hostess, and giving her a half-hearted ‘thank you,’ as she returned your fancy dress-coats.

as the two of you rode back to your shared apartment, the tension in the air could be sliced with a knife. you noticed that way the red-head seemed to shrink in the passenger seat; but most certainly not out of fear. intimidated was the better word— and as if he wanted to know what you were going to do next.

you’ve never acted like this before, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it.

“chuuya, baby, why didn’t you listen to me when I told you to tone it down?” you questioned. your tone wasn’t completely calmed down yet, but it was significantly more gentle than at the event.

he scoffed, “can’t help it when you dressed up like that, doll~” he attempted at teasing you and taking more control, despite his inner dilemma.

something about the way he thought he always had complete control just made you want to ruin him. you just gave him a small smile, planting a small kiss on his cheek and saying nothing else.

by the end of the night, you just knew you would make sure he listened to every command you gave him.

for the remainder of the way home, you barely gave him any attention, simply turning on your music and keeping your focus on the road. his neediness didn’t subside; if anything, it only got more heated. he still had one hand on your thigh, stroking lightly and squeezing occasionally, whispering sweet nothings like, ‘can’t wait to get you home,’ and ‘want you so bad.’

you couldn’t agree more.

finally unlocking the front door and stepping in, you were instantly met with a messy kiss from chuuya, his arms beginning to snake around your waist.

oh god, was your patience running thin with him tonight.

you grabbed him by both of his wrists, pinning them by the sides of his head and looking him straight in the eyes, “you should know by now, you’re not calling the shots tonight, baby.”

chuuya was never one to give up quickly, you knew. it wasn’t going to be easy to get him to submit to you, but damnit, you were going to make this man beg on his knees for you to fuck him.

he groaned into your mouth as you kissed him roughly, gently poking your tongue out to brush against his pink lips in question. instead, his lips sealed immediately, breaking away from your kiss and looking into your eyes with a dark gaze.

oh, you knew this would be difficult.

“let go of my hands,” he growled.

“or what? what’re you gonna do about it, sweetheart?” you cooed in his ear. you could feel his muscles tense under your hold as if he was about to break out, but you quickly moved in retaliation. You caged him in with your body and bringing your knee up to brush against his growing bulge. “hm... you want me to let go, but it seems like you’re enjoying this just as much as i am, sweetheart~”

his brow quirked upward, the way it does when he doesn’t know what to say for himself. his body was betraying him. without realizing it, he was finally able to submit to you— throughout the entire evening, the butterflies in the pit of his stomach were purely anticipation.

anticipation for what you were going to do to him.

yet, he still attempted to break out of your hold, feeling the strain in your hold. he was much stronger than you-- you both were well aware of this. if he really wanted to break out and take control, he could. of course, you wouldn't let this remain unspoken between you.

"something the matter, hun?~ you want your hands free?" you whisper, letting your voice run low and your breath fan against his ear, "hm? if you want it so bad, then do it. you know i wouldn't stop you~"

you gave him his time, never rushing him to make the final decision, you wanted chuuya to as comfortable and content with everything.

suddenly, you felt the tension in his wrists go limp. you expected to feel reluctance radiating from him, in his eyes, in his actions. instead, you were met with his blue eyes, big and round and trusting. he relaxed into you.

he was yours.

you chuckled lowly in his ear, basking in your victory for a short moment before beginning to lead him to your shared bedroom. you wanted to make sure the entire experience was perfect,

just for him.

suddenly, you felt a light tug against the fingers wrapped around your hand, ever so slight that if you weren't giving him your undivided attention, you may have missed it.

you looked back at your boyfriend, immediately being able to pinpoint his nervousness.

"hey... chuuya, baby," you whisper, cupping his face gently. "if you don't want to do this, that's okay. hm? i promise, okay?"

he moved his gaze up to meet your eyes earnestly.

"take care of me... please," he said under his breath.

your heart swelled at his words. you knew just how much courage it took for him to say it, and how much trust he had in you for him to mean it.

"oh, honey... don't you worry..." you coo, pulling him flush against you, chest-to-chest. despite his nervous appearance, you could feel his arousal press up against you-- straining against his slacks. oh, he definitely wanted this.

"i'm going to take such good care of you, baby~"

masterlist

#chuuya smut #chuuya x reader #chuuya x you #chuuya drabble #bungo stray dogs headcanons #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #chuuya x y/n #bsd imagines #bsd fanfic #bsd x you #bsd x reader #bsd smut #bsd smau #morality.reqs

417 notes · View notes

mintseesaw · 4 years

Text

harana | jjk

translation: n. the act of wooing/courting someone by serenading him/her

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: fluff, f2l au, drabble

word count: 3.5k

warning: none // rating: pg-13

requested by bebe athena @rookiegukie. Im sorry it took a while, but i hope you like it hun! You may still submit your requests for the drabble game Paraluman Playlist until the end of August. ✨

note: this didnt turn out as initially planned changing after jk released his latest cover so i highly rec u to listen to 10,000 hours by jjk (cover) while reading it hjfjgdjdkgm also it’s a first for me to delve into f2l trope ljggdhd yall forgive me if it’s too cliche bwahaha

“Hyung! ______-noona is here!” A kid who opened the door for you announced your arrival rather loudly, recognizing him as one of Jungkook’s cousins. You pushed through inside the nostalgic interior of the Jeon’s household. Nothing much has changed in the past two years.

Soon after, Jungkook appeared from the doorway you remember as the door leading to the kitchen. He’s decently dressed and when you say decent, you meant he’s not in his usual attire of anything black and over-sized. Nonetheless, he’s handsome as ever. You’re not gonna deny the fact.

“Hey!” He greets, face lighting up at the sight of you, biting back a smirk as he skims the length of you adorning a cute, yellow dress. He glances down at your hand holding a gift-wrapped present for his mom before draping an arm over your shoulders.

He feigns a frown, “You shouldn’t have bothered. Mom will appreciate you making it on her birthday.”

“Well, unlike someone I know, I’m thoughtful enough to prepare something for Auntie.” You tease, knowing he possibly bought nothing for his mom.

He scoffs, only proving your assumption right. “Yah! Don’t sound too enthusiastic, I’m the son here.”

“So what? I’m your mom’s favorite!” You retorted back.

“No you aren’t!” He snapped, while his mouth unconsciously juts forward in defeat.

Your eyebrow arches. “Is that a challenge I hear?”

Jungkook nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders. “Forget the competition. We’re here to make my mom happy.” He quickly dismisses, distracting you as he leads you straight to the garden area which you could already see where the guests are gathered through the glass doors.

As expected, the said small party looks simply classic with a touch of Mrs. Jeon’s sophisticated taste. Average-sized square wooden tables are neatly scattered in the expanse of the garden with uniform vintage table setting that coordinates well with the floral decorations in the vicinity. In front, a makeshift platform was made behind a decorated linen with pinned letters “Happy Birthday Mom!” Behind all the tables is where the buffet table was placed.

You’re actually relieved that your simple puff sleeve dress matches with the theme of the party, forgetting the guilt of having to wear the dress without borrowing it from your sister.

Mrs. Jeon was happily chatting with her guests but when the sliding door breaks open revealing you tucked under Jungkook’s arm, the present smile on her face stretches wide and immediately shuffled towards you and Jungkook’s way.

Mrs. Jeon audibly gushes just as you handed your gift and welcomed you with a warm, tight hug. “Thank you, dear.”

Jungkook took it as his cue to leave you two for a second.

When she draws back, she appreciatively give you a once over. “Oh, you look so lovely on your dress!” Mrs. Jeon clapped her hands. You smiled shyly in return.

“Thank you for coming, dear. It’s been ages since the last time I’ve seen you. Come here and get some food.” She says.

It’s true. After you’ve been in college two years ago, you’ve hardly stayed in your hometown for more than two weeks, hence, you couldn’t squeeze your time here to pay the Jeons a visit. Mrs. Jeon became your guardian whenever your parents were in business trips back in the days, and during the times of your stay at their house, you’ve grown much closer to her just like your second mom.

By the time you reach the buffet table, Mrs. Jeon caught Jungkook in the act of getting a piece of sushi straight from the chafing dish, and his poor soon right away earned a whack on his arm from his mom.

“Use the tongs!” She reproaches which made him flinches dramatically.

Such a baby.

You bit back a chuckle as Mrs. Jeon went on with “Go to the kitchen and refill the dispenser!” Jungkook pouts but obeys his mom without complaining. However, he made sure to shoot a fake glare at you before he disappears from the doorway.

Mrs. Jeon then handed you an empty plate. “Here, ______. I know you like pasta.”

Your eyes widened a little. Perhaps, you have not recovered from the surprise painted on your expression, hearing it come from her that she caught a glimpse of your slight shock state. Why should you be surprised when Jungkook knows it as well? He might have told her or something.

“Oh don’t be surprised, dear. My boy always asks me to cook pasta whenever you come around.”

Isn’t it his favorite food? “It’s… his favorite... right?” You began but ended up questioning the validity of your knowledge.

She laughs, “You know he could eat anything edible but cannot live without his portion of meat every day.”

“Oh.” It was only that moment it registered to you. His mom is right. He’d always make it a point to consume all your stocks of meat whenever he shows up in your dorm in the most unexpected days. His university is not too far away from yours. Yet, this guy thinks it’s worth the two-hour drive just to get to your dorm and pester the shit out of you.

“I’m so happy you’re able to make it on my birthday. Will you stay in town for the rest of your break?”

“Uhh… I was supposed to focus on saving up through my part time jobs this summer but my mom threatened to disown me if I don’t stay here during summer break.”

“Oh she’s being reasonable, honey. Believe me, I’d do the same thing if Jungkook refuses to go home at least once a month, unless of course, if he runs off with you.” She remarks in a teasing manner, earning a profuse blush to appear on your cheeks so abruptly.

Since you left home for uni, you actually believe Mrs. Jeon had forgotten about your shared interactions back then. Yet, here she is, still having faith that his son has actual feelings for you. She told you many times that she’d want a daughter like you or, at least, be her in-law. She always regarded it in a playful tone so you used to get mixed signals whether she was really serious or not. But then, you’d say the overused line: “we’re only friends”. She would then give you a knowing look and insisted that she knows her son well. Fortunately for you, she made it a point to only tease you whenever Jungkook was out of earshot.

By the time Jungkook came back a few moments later, you’re already seated in a vacant table at the farthest back. Jungkook occupied the seat next to yours, taking notice of the half-finished food on your plate.

“What time are you leaving?” He asks the moment he plopped down the chair. Your head cocked to the side to meet his gaze.

“Are you trying to make me leave early?” You prompted suspiciously.

He rolls his eyes. “I’m gonna drive you home, idiot.”

“Well, you don’t have to. I can… walk.”

“It’s not like I have a choice.” He mutters under his breath.

Your eyebrows quirked but you spoke no more. He lifted his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. Did he mean his mom will force him to drop you off at your house just like the old times?

As the night progresses, the small celebration has pumped up with lively cheers from their relatives, incited by the impromptu program prepared by Jungkook’s cousins which was mostly filled with fun games. At some point of the said program, a small commotion on the side of the makeshift platform started to build up. The next thing you know, his cousin, the mastermind behind the entertainment portion of the party, caught yours and Jungkook’s attention when she announced his sudden participation in the program through a performance.

“Our boy Kookie here recently recorded a cover and he’s here to perform the live version and showcase his talent to our dear guests. Everyone, let’s welcome our very own Jeon Jungkook onto the stage!” His cousin enthusiastically says through the microphone. On cue, everyone in the garden, particularly his cousins, roared in earsplitting screams of cheer.

He blinks, completely perplexed. He was not given a heads up prior, much less told that he would perform a song in front of an audience. Hesitant due to his nerves, he backed away subtly just as he reaches the side of the supposed stage. However, his cousin caught up with his attempt and pushed him not too gently toward the platform, and even placed the microphone stand in front of him, giving him no room to say no. The expectant look of his relatives left him no choice but to just— his eyes suddenly caught your figure at the back when you stood up and went to the buffet table.

His heart thuds so hard against his rib cage that he’s afraid everyone can hear it through the mic, including you. He’s sure he’s as white as a paper by now more so that his nerves are getting the worst of him.

That song is not just any song he simply did a cover of. It was the song he meant to sing for you when the right time has come, when he’s ready to pour his heart out to you.

He sucked a deep breath once more, and slowly breathed out once more. Instinctively, his eyes fluttered closed when he heard the music began playing.

Ready or not, it’s now or never.

Do you love the rain? Does it make you dance

When you're drunk with your friends at a party?

At the sound of his voice filling the air of the summer night, you spun back around to face him. That’s how he missed the look on your face just as how you missed the chaotic cheering of his cousins as they piled up to the side of the platform.

What's your favorite song? Does it make you smile?

Do you think of me?

Hearing the beautiful lyrics wholeheartedly sang by Jungkook, the same one who stole your heart a long time ago, you couldn’t control your heart as it started racing so wildly, tiny specs of heat slowly spreading in your chest. Thoughts began to swirl in your mind – giving you the anticipation. The possibility. The potential love affair. That the friendship would develop into something more.

Before the next verse comes, Jungkook peeled his eyes open, however, he didn’t expect to see you awestruck there across his line of vision from the back, and meeting your expressive eyes. If he didn’t know better, he would have mistaken the glint in your eyes for something else.

Maybe just… maybe you like him too.

When you close your eyes

Tell me what are you dreaming?

Everything, I wanna know it all

You look so beautiful. That the thought of you alone could easily make his heartstrings twist so cruelly in his chest. Oh how he wishes you’d let him spoil you the way he’s been dying to. He’d be the luckiest man to ever live to have you as his girlfriend.

Jungkook didn’t know how he managed to put up the courage to return your gaze, never have you looked at him the way your pretty eyes are staring back at him now with the genuine fondness in them. Somehow, as he gets lost to his emotions, he suddenly couldn’t find the strength in him to take his eyes off of you.

I'd spend 10,000 hours and 10,000 more

Oh, if that's what it takes to learn that sweet heart of yours

Butterflies erupt crazily in your stomach, goosebumps start to appear on your skin and your cheeks heat up as he held you captive under his wistful stare. The longingness and the passion they hold, the twinkle of his orbs as his doe-like eyes are digging straight to your soul, what it is all for?

And I might never get there but I'm gonna try

If it's 10,000 hours or the rest of my life

I'm gonna love you

He’s always been a constant figure in your life since the moment you two became friends. He didn’t miss any important celebrations that involves you since then. And even though Jungkook has been vocal about being overprotective of you dating guys he didn’t know, none of you ever tried to address anything remotely related to romantic love. It gave you the temporary relief, because you’ve been pushing your feelings back in the depths of your heart since the moment you realized you’ve fallen in love with him.

You never had the guts to test the theory, but leaving wondering what if… When have you visited the thought, again? You have long disregarded the possibility because you believed he loves you like his sister. Nevertheless, you’re lucky to have met him and be the only constant in your life.

Do you miss the road that you grew up on?

Did you get your middle name from your grandma?

When you think about your forever now

Do you think of me?

Jungkook’s face stretches in a subtle smile, forgetting about his nerves, his sweaty palms and the guests who kept looking back and forth between him and you in curiosity while he seems magnetized at his view. You.

When you close your eyes

Tell me what are you dreaming?

Everything, I wanna know it all

You smiled, recalling the times you two were inseparable. The times he let you cry on his shoulder, when he used to help you sneak out in the middle of the night, be your chaperone, witnessed you getting drunk for the first time in your life and even that one time a senior stole your first kiss. It was the first time you saw Jungkook that angry, beating the shit out of a poor guy two years ahead of us over a single peck. Your memories with him didnt end in high school for he didn’t stop making efforts to see you, regularly visiting you frequent enough that he’d made himself home at your place.

Ooh, want the good and the bad

Everything in between

Ooh, gotta cure my curiosity

In the midst of serenading you, he recollects the memories he shared with you. The day you two were introduced to each other was still as good as new in his memory bank, or the times that you encouraged him to push through to audition to his dream role that you even learned to play his audition piece just so he could practice with you every day after school. His basketball games with you as his personal cheerleader, the times that he couldn’t hide his jealousy when you dated someone else, the immature fights that always led him to drink his heart out as if you two had broken up, and you nursing him back to sobriety. When you two were separated in college, he’d always make a way to bother you whenever he’s drunk and you’d end up going to his place and ceaselessly irk him while he rotted from hangover.

His angelic voice singing the rest of the song lulls you further into your thoughts, gathering each memory like a missing piece in the puzzle. Why didn’t you see all the signs back then? Were you blinded by your then-infatuation over him that you failed to hint his own feelings? He never gave you a reason to make you think he likes you more than a friend nor tried to hide anything from you, right?

Shortly afterwards, you were pulled back into the reality when you hear the cheers of the guests, signaling the end of Jungkook’s performance. Your eyes silently follow him as he sheepishly walk out of the platform, going onto the same path he took before.

Jungkook didn’t meet your gaze as he strutted toward the ice cooler on the side of the buffet table to get a bottle of alcohol which is just a few steps away from you. Twisting open its cap with such urgency, he took a long swig from the bottle to calm his traitor nerves, then pretends to busy himself on the variety of food laid on the table while feeling the weight of your stare on his back. Nervous that you understood the purpose behind his impromptu performance and that your silence was your hint of your rejection to his feelings, he didn’t try to talk it out to you the entire night. Yet, he feigned indifference when he sat on the same chair in the table next to you.

As the rest of the night rolls, the tension undeniably grows in between you two. Yet bearable enough to have you two stay glued on your seats despite the countless times you caught him staring at you, or you at him all throughout the night.

None of you dared break the silence and somehow, along the way, the tension has particularly become unbearable inside the car while he drove you home. Your house was just two blocks away and you bet it would take him faster to get there should he not intentionally slow down his driving with only a hand on a steering wheel while the other rested on the open window of his door as his fingers anxiously pinch his lips.

You chose to break the tension, feeling the need to speak up before your heart bursts out of your chest. And the moment you did, Jungkook coincidentally started to talk too.

“So…”

“About that…”

You met his eyes when your head jerked to the side to peer at him.

“What?” You immediately ask, curious to know what he would want to say after that, his heartfelt singing.

“Uh—“ He drawls, suddenly losing the words he was supposed to utter the second he made an eye contact with you. He shifts his eyes back to the road, feeling himself cower under the weight of your stare.

He clears his throat, putting up a pretense of a courage. “What do you think of... my performance?”

There was a moment of dead air inside before you manage to form an answer. “It was beautiful… I like it. You know I’m in love with y-you– I mean your voice. I love your voice.” You laugh awkwardly, while you’re incoherently screaming in your head at your almost slipped up.

Jungkook’s face flushes and he could already visualize the sudden boost of serotonin in his system hearing the validation he needs the most, the one coming from you. “Thank you.” He mumbles shyly.

It was that moment when the car arrives in front of your house. You shoot him a look, said your thanks and bid him goodbye before you climbed out of the car. You couldn’t deny the disappointment that was rushing so abruptly into you while you pad the distance across the gate of the house. For the nth time, you have hoped for something that was not even real to begin with.

However, your heart jumped out of almost joy when you heard Jungkook’s voice call your name out just as you’re about to close the fence gate.

“What’s up?”

“Okay before I tell you something, do you promise to remain best friends with me if… if you don’t… if somehow… oh god whatever— just promise me!” He panics, making you frown in return.

“I-I promise?” You say in an uncertain tone.

Jungkook held his pinky out.

“Pinky swear?” He prompts. You raise an eyebrow but let him hook your pinky finger with his to seal the promise of a lifetime friendship.

“What is it?” You say in the most gentle way possible. If this is the moment you’ve been dreaming to happen since you were in high school, you have to encourage him to talk before you could stop yourself from advancing to his personal space just to kiss him without any further ado.

“_____I-I tried my best not to… n-not to see you in a different way. But god you’re always making it difficult for me to forget about it when you keep giving me reasons to want things I shouldn’t have–”

“Jungkook–”

“Please, let me finish before my legs give out.”

You chuckle all the while your vision blurs from the moisture in your eyes. The anxiety on his face gradually dissolves into relief when he saw the smile creeping into your face.

“I can’t keep dating anyone and pretending they’re better than you. I’m an idiot, I know. But it’s always been you, ______. It’s you that I want and I can’t possibly live this life without you–“ You didn’t let him finish when he finally said the words you have longed to hear for years. You lean in to touch his soft, inviting lips with your own.

Jungkook staggered back at the suddenness of your move. Once he had recovered from shock, he cupped your jaw to deepen the kiss. He sighed against your supple lips. And for the first time since he has nurtured his feelings for you, the weight in his chest has been lifted off, replacing it with warmth and relief that only you could bring in his longing heart.

*unedited

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #bayanihanboost #paralumanplaylist #btsguild #goldenclosetnet #btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #cypherwritersnet #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jungkook drabble #friends to lovers trope

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escxpiism · 3 years

Text

( olivia holt, 23, she/her ) * hey, i’m looking for the office of ALICE ADAMS. they’re the EMPLOYEE who’s known around the office as THE MASK if that helps ? not to be a gossip, but i’ve heard that they’re ADAPTABLE but JADED, is that true ? i also heard that they’re the one who CATFISHED DAVID HASSELHOFF. anyways, here’s the coffee they ordered.

hi y’all !! i’m may ( 21 // est // she/her ) and i am super super pumped to be here !! i’m also very much writing this against my better judgment ya girl’s running on four hours of sleep and has the option to sleep more but......... is not tired ?? so i do apologize if my mind is secretly tired and makes this intro,,,, even worse than it would be fahouedn. on with the show !! anyway anyway!! feel free to like this if u wld like 2 plot and i will hit u up!!

( also, for some vibes if you so choose to read, here’s the link to her playlist ! )

----------------------------------------------------

QUICK FACTS:

full name: alice audrey adams

date of birth: october 26th, 1997

*will not perfectly reflect the zodiac big three below because that’s.... math.

zodiac big three: scorpio sun, virgo moon, taurus rising

gender & pronouns: cis woman & she/her

sexual orientation: bisexual

education: ged, bachelor’s degree in film — pratt institute

enneagram: 4w3

mbti: enfp

temperament: sanguine-melancholic

label: the mask

various inspirations: “nutshell” - alice in chains, “santa monica” - everclear, “polly” - nirvana, “jennifer’s body” - hole, “creep” - stone temple pilots, kate wallis ( cruel summer - shhhh ), heather davis ( crazy ex-girlfriend ), satana hellstrom ( marvel comics ), bojack horseman - without the amount of problematic ego ( bojack horseman ), eddie huang ( fresh off the boat ), the great britney spears evolution ( temporarily stopping at circus era )

BACKSTORY:

triggers in order: toxic family dynamic, grooming (nothing super in-depth), kidnapping (? like it was ‘willing’ but no. see next trigger for why), toxic “relationship” (and 11yr age gap w/ a 16y/o we hate it), straight-up captivity, very brief mention of suicide + heroin (very!)

*would like to quickly preface that this isn’t just Dark for the sake of being r/im14andthisisdeep but that’s for a later time **(also! i have markers for where the grooming + Super Dark parts begin and end! -- also, the Super Dark part is all very public knowledge. had articles. media frenzy. first thing that comes up if you google her name) *** also. if u need it then a tl;dr is below this section hfkldsa

alice audrey adams was born to the type of family that names all of their children alliterative names ( however, they sadly didn’t get their own kardashian-style show )... alexis adams (working name, utp if taken as a wc)... alfie allison adams (working name, utp if taken as a wc)... born to anna adams and allen adams... we hate it here.

as u can see... all of the kids were basically named after allen... they all had ‘al’ names.... extremely confusing

plot-twist: THAT’S the darkest part

the adams were very concerned with public image. as a family in the upper echelon, they simply had to be! a narcissist father, a distant mother, put in competition with her siblings — there was no truly healthy dynamic in the household. but they looked good. they went to church every sunday, a ‘wwjd’ sticker on the back of her mother’s car. they did just enough activities and took just enough trips together to get the image across. they threw parties. they attended parties. they were the picture perfect american family — they even had two cats in the yard! life used to be so hard!

of course, in reality, this all left ms alice quite the lonely gal. but don’t worry! she didn’t turn to hedonism! lord no! instead, she turned to other people. a lot of friendships — couldn’t tell if they were real or #fortheclout — but at a point, did it matter?

grooming tw: it all came to a screeching halt when she met luke johnson, the son of their neighbors. he came back from california to georgia to visit family, care for his ailing father. oh, he was a good man! sure, he was ‘somewhat’ older than her — 27 when she was 16 — but he was such a good, handsome young man! and they were all still calling him young man, after all.

alice ‘began’ a torrid affair with luke after about a month into his visit. although she saw no immediate wrong in it, he insisted she keep it a secret ‘for the time being’ — which really just made it all the more exciting! he made all the storm clouds that hovered disappear.

one day, the levee broke for alice (still figuring out what exactly happened because i don’t wanna go too dark since this is already extremely dark, but trust that it had something to do with her parents and was just enough to push her over the edge). convinced luke was the only safe person, she turned to him. knowing their small community would catch on and essentially exile him, he took that opportunity to convince her to go back to santa monica with him where they could ‘start anew’ after his father’s death.

there are a few details i plan on adding regarding like. how legality playing into it. but i may just reserve those for an official bio lhakfsdfj

**BEGINNING OF SUPER DARK** for a while, there was the question of whether they should consider it a kidnapping or not. she went with him willingly, but she was still underage (and… you know, that age difference… the power dynamic... gross y’all). the adams insisted that it was (bc it basically was lbr) — primarily because it would make them look far better — but the community still questioned the logistics and legalities of it all… ugh. did the police really wanna deal with that? ugh.

in any case, on the other side of us america, autumn was nearing. alice would have the very occasional inquiry over how school would work (very occasional! don’t worry, luke!), over the logistics of her new life… and, after receiving multiple calls from various friends (in addition to her siblings) that sounded genuine, began wondering… if she’d made the right choice. questions about him.

when she began bringing up the idea of going back — at least for the school year!! — he would continuously remind her that she was not old enough to buy herself a plane ticket (and he was not about to do that). she also couldn’t rent a car yet (and he certainly wouldn’t let her take (one of) his car(s)!). but most importantly? he loved her. and she loved him. (what a creep!)

so, for a hot second, it seemed like she was stuck. damn legalities!! damn love!! you know, until she texted her older sister back with all of the problems that only being 16... and “in love”.... caused. her sister offered to fly down, buy her a plane ticket, and fly back with her.

when luke saw this (with all the unrestricted access to her phone he had so he could block, delete, and manipulate as he pleased), he confronted her. things went awry. she wound up in his budding wine cellar (which he soon emptied, of course… those merlots :( ….). he messaged back and, as her, said it was actually all good!! luke had figured out the logistics and she could call whenever she wanted!!

and those calls became frequent! because she would pick up when luke held it up to her! because she was pretty sure luke would kill her if she didn’t!

she wasn’t sure how long it was until she was officially Found. it took what was ruled a suicide by luke, a shot to the head and heroin in his system, to finally get any authority’s attention. all she knew was that she went to santa monica in mid june and she stopped seeing regular daylight by late july. so some time in august to some time in april… **END OF SUPER DARK + GROOMING**

she was returned to georgia shortly after and everything was different. from herself to her friends. but everything was also the same. from her room to her family. it was all… teasing. she began going to therapy, but she really sucked at it?? so she just let her therapist rely on various articles that covered the event. because it had been a media circus. good enough, amirite??

she didn’t have the will or patience to put on that peppy facade she’d had before, but there were still a few things she found a smidge of joy in. music (although her taste had… slightly altered and wow! it’d been almost a year since she’d picked up that bass!), videography… just those small things, you know??

for the first half of the ~ 2014 fall semester ~, she attempted actual school. really was not working out. with, for probably the first and only time, her parents’ approval and understanding, she dropped out and studied for a ged -- shorter and self-led -- instead.

she passed with a pretty decent grade... but it’s been argued that she really shouldn’t have gotten into pratt institute (she was at least realistic and didn’t apply to, like… cornell), but she did. national news helps.

while in the concrete jungle where dreams are made of, she learned of masters. she submitted an application as a joke — because her grades sucked!!!!! — but guess who got a job?? oh, she could pretend it was because her selected portfolio was actually genuinely good… but, man… we all know…

fun fact: my uncle applied to harvard as a joke. some twenty-five years later, we still haven’t heard back :\

she… continues to suck. like… she kinda wants the place to eventually burn down?? figuratively speaking (or is it…) but ya, for all the monopolizing she has seen turn people Evil?? but the hell can she do about it… just gotta make sure she keeps her in-house videographer job… maybe she can do something about it when she like… is capable. fuaihoelwdjkn

she sees an in-house therapist and i’d say ‘good for her,’ but it was mandated l m a o

doesn’t talk about herself all that much!! but that might not matter for some people, yk?? ugh journalism <3

y’all im so bad at ending intros.

TL;DR:

(consult above trigger list): bright kid in a super rich and toxic family because obviously. everything they did was just to look good <3 also they all had ‘a’ names which is the biggest tragedy of all :( ‘fell in love’ when she was 16ys/o with a 27y/o who was visiting to care for his father in his final days. had a torrid affair. creep. creep (luke) basically made her ‘fall in love.’ she thought creep was the only safe person at one point and creep was like ‘wanna go back 2 santa monica w me?’ and she was like ‘yes.’ and everyone was like ‘was this kidnapping... we cant tell....’ then he became even more possessive when she started questioning him and some logistics. when she finally found a way she could go back to georgia for a spell, he was like ‘no u can go in my wine cellar btw i will be taking all of the wine out.’ he kept her there from august to april and... only reason he didnt keep keeping her was bc he was Caught so. back to georgia where the devil went down. everything was Worse. even the things that were the same. but hey, the sob story that landed her in the news plenty of times got her into a college she shouldn’t have gotten into and gave her a leg-up in a joke application for a job at masters (in-house videographer). really bad at doing her work but like... fuck the man i guess??

PERSONALITY + HEADCANONS:

has no time for Fake Nice (which, as a born southerner, she’s really good at sniffing out!). has no time for arrogance. kind of makes her at odds with the nyc upper class...

on that note, still got a lil bit of some georgia twang

she lets herself indulge in various vices, but has left a previous hedonist status. weed and alcohol are still pretty common, but everything else is kept at arm’s length.

also, while on that topic, she Does Not drink wine. being trapped in a cellar... kinda makes u averse. like. literally despises it. will go on autopilot and make it KNOWN if offered wine.

also ALSO while on that topic, after looking it up and seeing she fits the new york city requirements, she has a medical marijuana card <3 the one good thing, if u ask her, to come out of therapy/psychiatry <3 will not show it off unless absolutely NECESSARY bc then it gets personal or <3 will lie about why and say it’s like for epilepsy or sumn unless ur rolfe but <3 she has it <3

at odds with herself. enjoys the company of others, definitely has a history of being an extrovert, but has become very selective with the company she keeps.

VERY private person! has had enough public standing!

...has occasionally used her story to advance her tho bc it’s her national newsworthy tragic story and she can exploit it if she wants <3

when good charlotte said “i don’t wanna be in love”?? she felt that. her last ‘relationship’ ruined that for her <3 save her <3

used to be really into pop! bc pop is fun! she loved some britney (i mean... she still does... how can u not!)! but. her taste has changed drastically. rarely listens to pop. has traded britney for like.... hole and the like.

her parents didn’t use this as the basis for her name but,, 2 me,,, she’s named alice for a reason <3 gotta luv alice in chains <3

y’all i found a youtube comment on a video called ‘nirvana - half the man i used to be’ (the song was, in fact, ‘creep’ by stone temple pilots) and it’s <3 her music taste <3 click here for it <3

the above said, dresses like she’s in seattle in the early 90s.

her rumor is true btw she DID catfish david hasselhoff and she will proudly tell u. it’s her best accomplishment.

completely stopped talking to her parents and got cut-off a while back ago so now she’s livin like the Prols

which is how a rich kid one of my profs once advised referred to his classmates.... hilarity ensues.

the above in mind, her parents say she’s testing the waters as a ‘normal person’ to save face. they can’t have anyone knowing their family isn’t perfect <3

she has a pet turtle whom she named “dr. turtle,” although he’s constantly referred to as “doc” or “the doc.” he has his own youtube channel and tiktok account.

she has a wall full of evidence that courtney love did not kill kurt cobain... it makes sense, believe me.

became a vegetarian...... partially because it was different from her original life and a way to control something, partially because this commercial made her feel SO BAD.

literally her default mode is stoned like... a totally sober alice is rarer than a nessie sighting

when she was 18, before she could ‘hold her liquor’ as well as she can now, she got a lil too drunk and now has a portrait tattoo of courtney love on her forearm. but it was done well at least!!

kind of ironic considering her career, but RARELY posts on any social media site except twitter. after the media circus in 2014 and All Eyes On Her, she’s just..... so tired...... of ppl seeing her face and being like ‘omg ur that wine cellar bitch!’

(drugs tw) has become more and more Addicted to playing around with fate. j chill on a ledge, talkin to some pals, but deciding it’s a good idea to swing her legs on the wrong side of ledge? totally! mixing a lot of alcohol with opioids which she is not accustomed to? DEF!! (end tw)

more to come!!

CONNECTION IDEAS:

i have two (2) queued up!! but while we wait for them to post, i’ll just… link them over here: 1, 2

muse u <3 the other half of her subplot from the main <3

her older sister!

her younger sibling!

some of the basics!! you know: close pal, roommate, drug buddies (but she gotta hit them up), fwb, ons, frenemies, enemy

ppl who recognize her from the 2014 luke johnson articles and have either brought it up or,,,,,,, act Awkward™

cld be fun 2 just have like. a jam bud. someone who plays any instrument and they j. jam sometimes.

ppl she sells. some of her medical marijuana to. bc yk what weed may be legal in nyc now but,,,, she’s still found a way to be broke she will accept anything. and also it just became legalized THIS YEAR so!!

i have a budding wc page @ https://escxpiism.tumblr.com/wcs (and when i say budding, i MEAN budding) so feel free 2 check it out!!

more to come!!

#masters.intro #alice | intro !#this took me like....... 2hrs 2 write so i do indeed think my mind is fooling me and actually lagging behind.

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tigerdrop · 3 years

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u know u could put out the weirdest most fucked up shit and we would still love it. obviously don't share stuff if it makes u uncomfortable but for every single thing you find embarrassing there's something several times worse

i really hope ur ready to stand by these words b/c im about to tell you about.......showdog dogboy gordon. for five thousand fucking words

look. listen. hear me out. my dear kogo introduced me to an idea and it has not left my mind since: showdog......dogboy......gordon

like.........you know.......its about. dogboy. submitting while benrey dolls him up and makes him look nice. maybe hes been a lot......fuzzier since he got forcibly nintendogged. and maybe benrey cracks a joke about it, maybe the joke gets pulled out a little too far. b/c its the two of them, and thats what they do. its jokes. games. jokes being riffed upon and thinly-veiled dares being issued until gordon freeman finds himself standing awkwardly next to a grooming table in nothing but his underwear while benrey tells him to chill the fuck out. puts that collar on him. after all, he wants to look nice for his friend, right? they say a dog is mans best friend

this definitely would not be the first time a joke or a game went too far and they ended up fucking at the end of it, but this is......this is a whole level beyond. this is definitely, like. theres a Lot going on here. but neither of them are breaking character yet so

and. you know. if youre feeling really insane. like me. if youre feeling just fucking diseased. you can make benrey.......pretty big here. make gordon dogy-sized next to him. not like, tiny, but enough that gordon, ordinarily a Big Guy, feels......small. a little emasculated

and.....yknow. gordon could be collared and chained to the table. like a real dog. not a lot of slack on that thing. and maybe hed be.......muzzled, too. if hes the kind of dogboy that gets snippy at scissors

its really good also for.....benrey being fully clothed and gloved up while gordons almost entirely bare. i know dog groomers dont strictly have to wear gloves. but still. not that it was really going to stop me if he wouldnt actually have a reason to wear gloves. i would make him anyway b/c ive lost all dignity

ITS ABOUT. THE HORNY FUCKING GAME. like they could talk about it if, if they wanted, if they were normal about it, b/c in this scenario they have absolutely fucked it out before (b/c i cant imagine any other fucking way gordon freeman acquiesces to this unless hes Aware that theres gonna be dick touching involved), but they are not normal and they are not going to break kayfabe even if it kills them

and like......i think the muzzle thing is......good. its really really good. b/c benrey can get real fuckin mean and tell him that hes gonna have to be a good boy and keep his teeth to himself if he wants it off so that benrey can make him look less like shit

those new canines of his are awful pointy. is gordon sure he can handle it? can he get a grip on his dogy side for fucking long enough to let benrey take a straight razor to his face? of course he can, he thinks, b/c hes not a fucking dog, okay, hes still a guy, and hes here to prove it and just. behave. while benrey manhandles him and grooms him and brushes out his fur and files his fucking nails. hes not in thrall to his instincts whether they be animalistic or vulgar. and hes definitely not going to cave and ask benrey to touch his fucking dick while he does this

> i enjoy the thought of benrey posing gordon as he pleases but never directly touching him, lifting his leg to get under his upper thigh or stretching the skin of his belly taut as not to nick him. so concentrated on gordon but feigning ignorance to his building arousal, ignoring it

> that art jordan did where gordon is on the table and has the collar on. his chest is shaved into the shape of a heart and that made me so DFUCKING CRAZY I STARTED BARKING AND SNARLING AKLSJAKDJFS

YEAH.....ITS......its shaved into a heart on purpose. and i left that in the first version i posted but nobody said anything about it so i just whistled and walked away

> LIKE. the emasculation of it....the fucking. possesiveness. theres also an undercurrent of like tenderness to it that made me fucking go apeshit

its such a fucking power move too. like. thats not gonna grow out for awhile. every time gordon freeman looks in the mirror for the next few weeks hes gonna be reminded of how fuckin debased he was

just..............consider........the trust hed have to put in benrey for it........benrey holding gordons jaw very firmly in his hand and showing him the straight razor and being like "yo.......uhh......this things sharp. dont wanna make a mess......better, better sit real fuckin still. sit boy. dont move." and sitting rigidly after benrey says something like that while tilting his jaw up to look directly athim is one of the hardest things gordons done in his life. hes sweating and hes making himself dizzy by trying not to breathe too much

he can just......he can see exactly where gordons jugular is fluttering madly under the razor and where gordons adams apple bobs as benrey skims stubble off his throat and rest assured that benrey is getting off on this just as much as gordon is

big......big hands on his face.....turning him every which way.......running his thumb over the clean line of his jaw to feel the results..........i think its just, its a cool scenario. to think about. but instead of this being just a normal "gordon freeman gets shaved" scenario, hes half naked and chained to a table and also has dog ears for some fucking reason

but also this is just like......his face. its the "trimming him everywhere" thats the really fun part

> like...the moving down his body....touching almost clinically by moving part of him around to get everything...yknow....

casual.....clinical.......nervewracking to be on the receiving end of

> thinking about him having to restrain his horny is fun, but it’s especially fun when you think about how he’d spend hours like that, hard and dripping, since friend benrey wants to be so through

> YES CLINICAL, ALMOST INDIFFERENT

fucking. hours. of just laying there anxiously running his mouth and laughing and gasping when benrey moves him like its nothing or touches him somewhere that makes him jump......like.......benrey with something whirring as loudly as those clippers in his hand doesnt exactly inspire confidence......but hes weirdly good at what hes doing and hes got a broad palm flat on gordons stomach to hold him in place/get him to chill out......but it just makes gordon sweat and flush and hes trying so hard to stay still b/c benrey keeps demeaning him when he squirms too much......like, what, is he scared? thinks benreys gonna cut his other arm off with a pair of hair clippers? get real. calm down maybe.

but thats not really the reason why hes acting weirdly ticklish about the whole procedure. (its because of the Scenario, man. gordons trying so hard to be normal in the face of the awareness that this is one of the most insane things hes ever gotten hard for, but we all know how strung out this dude gets at even relatively normal shit. so much so that benrey will just stare at him blankly and ask "uhhh, stop moving please? thank you?" b/c gordons so handsy ordinarily and he keeps trying to move his hands when he talks)

> listen. what if he....absentmindedly like...pet. him. on the stomach. just doing the motion cause it soothes normal dogs so when he feels gordon squirming he strokes heavily down. repetitive...but hes not even focusing on that, hes like intent on getting the part hes trimming just right gordon freezes up and stops breathing for a second to flush all over. benrey’s hand is so hot on his stomach, and he can only focus on how good it feels,

> squirmy because he feels like he’s gonna die if his dick doesn’t get touched and all his instincts are screaming to disobey and hump benrey into the ground (not like he physically can with the restraints but)

eventually benreys gonna have to get down to brass tacks and shave and trim all of him

> and like the whole time. the whole goddamn time gordons just in his boxers absolutely throbbing with it and like. benrey's hand moves to his stomach and like the waistband of his boxers. yeah. all of him.

can you imagine. gordon freeman desperately trying not to be horny while his best friend kneels between his legs and hooks those fingers in his waistband and starts peeling them off and completely fucking failing at it but hes still gotta try, right. whether hes cis or trans this idiot is so horny that his underwear is just. ruined

> i still cant stopr thinking abt. in the pictures you drew jordan. the way benrey is. delicately touching gordons dick/pussy to get a better angle for shaving

Y. YEAH. ITS POTENT. IMO. gordon having to pretend like hes not fucking horny in the slightest while benrey just kind of clinically moves his dick around and laughs at him when it twitches......ITS A LOT.

> the amount of willpower gordon is exercising not to fuck up into benrey’s palm when he’s loosely holding his dick to shave all the hair around it is honestly impressive

hes trying so fucking hard. hes shaking. look at him. tail thumping weakly against the table

just......like......i was thinkin about benrey getting gordon stripped bare while he stammers and rambles because he is so very fucking turned on right now and hes so embarrassed by this that he just stares firmly at the ceiling and humiliates himself ranting about how its a totally normal response and plenty of guys get erections during prostate exams and benrey has no idea what the fuck hes talking about

> this was th. part. ...benrey ignoring his boner and his rambling like "yeah alright. stay still for this part though for real" and gets to work. gordon absolutely mortified but hes breathing real shallow cause he doest want to get nicked here of all places so. and benrey placing a hand on his thigh to push them open further so that he can get a better angle and gordon's leg shakes. its quiet until benrey says to himself "'youre bein still. 's good." and gordon's dick visibly twitches at that and he shuts his eyes quickly and turns his face away. also i was still thinkin,,,,bout how the little praise straight up goes to gordon's head and his tail might also thump a lil faster on the table.

> would benrey notice? probably. maybe not say anything at first but just let a real evil smirk spread on his face, laughing a little. and then say lowly when hes focused on his work, "really like that huh. lil dogboy. you like being good?" and gordon lets out a harsh breath, stomach jumping. doesnt respond but his tail moves even faster. benrey's wrist brushes the head of his dick and he lets out a small sound, which turns strangled then he actually takes his hand and presses his dick to the side so he can get right below his stomach. its detached, hes just holding it pressed to the crease of his hip, but gordon's dick throbs under his palm and dribbles precome against the gloved fingers

> Okay, so, part of the grooming process is, of course, bathing the dog. And luckily, Benrey has a wonderful tool to help him with this. A hand-held shower hose with a lovely little shower head with very nice settings to help our little showdog get... clean.

> Imagine, if you will: Gordon, on all fours and chained up to keep him upright as Benrey slowly, methodically, wets him down. Lathers him up. Works his hands all over his body, from tail tip to the top of his head. Massaging into his belly. Rubbing inside his thighs. Cleaning every part of him. Every part.

> And the shower head occasionally dips down, pulsing, right to a sweet spot between Gordon’s legs, the closest thing he’s got to attention the entire time they’ve been playing this game. He’s so close, so GODDAMN close to getting what he wants, but every time Benrey realizes he’s getting somewhere... ... He moves it. To spray his back. His head. His chest. Anywhere but where Gordon wants it.

> Gordon is shaking. His legs are trembling, the table is wet and slick. He’s having such a hard time staying up on all fours, he’s panting and begging and losing his footing and EVERY TIME he loses his footing, well, the collar and chain choke him and force him right back up. And Benrey is just watching. Grinning.

> Waits for him to get his composure.

> And does it again.

just......like.......jesus. gordon would be. shaking. his whole body. panting like a dog. trying so hard to stay still. but he keeps trying to spread his legs wider when benrey reaches his thighs and he keeps slipping and accidentally choking himself and hes nearly at the breaking point trying to keep himself together but benrey runs a big, warm hand along his side and makes a passing comment on what a good boy hes being and gordon almost fucking yells from how overwhelmed he gets

i want gordon freeman fucking obliterated. i want him to suffer first from benrey jerking him around and then being made to jerk himself around, trying and failing to keep his shit together.....and when benrey tells him sumn like, hey no, dont lay down........even if your arms and legs are shakin, you gotta stay up bro.......its so fuckin demeaning and gordon just spits out "im trying!" and benrey buries his free hand in gordons hair like hes gonna tug in retaliation, but instead he just scratches gordons scalp in a way that feels really fucking good and asks "you gonna bite? huh? gonna bite me? when im treatin you so nice......jeez, man" and that takes him back from the brink a little

hes just always keeping gordon on his toes. switching settings. dragging it out and making gordon shake from head to toe, sometimes putting on one of those real powerful pulsing jets to overstimulate him and make gordon yelp and just work him up into a trembling mess struggling to stay upright. snarling in ugly frustration when benrey yanks the showerhead away just as gordons starting to Get There. it feels like it must have been hours that hes been being bathed like this and teased from occasional glancing sprays with the waterhead to direct stimulation while benrey chuckles at him and just blandly comments "youre shaking." and gordon stammers out hotly "of course im fucking shaking, you keep fucking with me and i just wanna--" and benrey takes him by the chin and makes gordon look up at him and says, laughing at him under his breath, "dogs dont talk, bro"

ike.......at this point u might think "surely thats enough. throw the guy a bone." and that maybe, now, gordon freeman will get his dick touched like he deserves. you owuld be wrong. benreys not done here. gordons gotta come down from that table, get toweled off. and when benrey unclips that leash from the table, gordon just fucking collapses. his arms and legs cant really hold him up right now......hes being strung out like a violin, drawn to maximum tautness before being let go all at once just before he snaps.

and this is where benrey plays a little nice.......dries him off and blowdries him a little, brushing out his hair and his tail. hes committed to the bit, okay? he said he was gonna make his best bro look nice, so hes gonna make gordon look nice. this whole time hes letting gordon come back down.....and its......its kind of frustrating, if benreys just gonna decide to leave him like this and drag him outta here and call that the end of the game, but its not the worst thing in the world right now. for the first time in hours hes not being asked to do something. he doesnt even really have to move his own arms and legs.

but No. hes still not done. theres something theyre forgetting........gotta clip your nails, bro. its the last thing on benreys docket, and gordons embarrassed for a different (but taxonomically similar) reason. all the personal attention and the bizarre intimacy of it makes gordons mouth start running, just to get his mind off it. pretend to be normal! surely thats gonna work when the guy who nearly gave him a nervous breakdown from being edged and toyed with beyond belief is now at his feet, filing nails and running curious thumbs over the tendons and muscles. benreys almost more lost in it than gordon is at this specific point. (hes been doing nothing but jerking gordon around and its hard work. he deserves this.)

gordons been good. really fuckin good. didnt even nip his fingers. benreys best friend deserves a treat.

> look. hes been so fucking good the whole time. not moving and not touching himself, not breaking the tension they have with each other, staying so still. i think he deserves something nice. but like gordon doesnt expect it, he expects to just be jerked around and let go. benrey tells him to stay on the table and he complains about it like "im done now. you. you said we were done" but benrey comes back with a fresh pair of gloves and gordon tenses until benrey places a hand on his chest and tells him to calm down. he was good. rubs at his chest and stomach, slowly pushing him down onto the table while gordon squeaks when benrey parts his legs. hes mostly soft now but he hears benrey doing something and then rubbing a slick finger around his hole and he lets out a little "oh god. oh god. " that turns into a moan when he presses in.

> gordon's calmed down a bit but its goddamn embarrassing how quickly he gets wet again, dick throbbing a little. and i think. hm. i think it would be very fun to do overstimulation in this way now too since hes been edged so much that hes actually fucking desperate to come

> i think he should be be fingered until he howls and comes like 3-4 times. he's finally finally getting what he wants i dont know if he would know what to do. hes probably embrassed as all fuck from the way he acted that whole time, but when he starts getting fingered all that stuff just blanks from his mind and its so, so hard for him to not just chase that feeling and whore himself out. the opportunities for whoredon dialogue when hes that desperate are like saying shit hes cant even think about like "god - please f- fuck." and benrey's only got one finger in him but hes so wet already that benrey tries a second and it slips in easily. he crooks his fingers and gordon fucking keens, thighs shaking.

the fuckin. the agony in his voice when hes hoarsely begging benrey "do not stop do not fucking stop i cant take it" and just. slamming his fist into the table and being so fucking loud, oh my god, this guy is loud

> the thought of how loud he would be crazed me im just. just. him laying on the fucking table, eyes shut tight and moaning high and loud while he pulls tightly on his own hair, clenching hard around benrey's fingers

i think it would just be cool if. uhh. the thing that finally breaks gordon. gets him to just Let Go. is benrey catching him trying to choke back his words and his sounds and just laughs at him, like, "this is the easy part man. you wanna be a good dog? better, uhh.....better beg. cmon, boy. beg." and gordons hips jerk and the subsequent praise he gets when he actually does it makes him just.......snap.......Bye

> and what if.......benrey doesnt remove them as gordon comes down from that. he just waits a few seconds while gordons still panting and then scissors them and wrings a strangled sound out of gordon, whos hips move down again. and the heat starts building again in his gut and he cant even get out full sentences anymore, just bits and pieces while he fucks onto benrey's fingers. m. maybe benrey's growling out shit like "thats it, cmon. been good for me all fuckin day. you want more?" and gordon nods his head without even looking but he hears a thump and sees benrey kneeling between his thighs and he. licks up from where his fingers are to his clit and he just seals his mouth on it and sucks and that makes gordon come a second time, thighs clamping shut around benrey's ears.

i just......i lvoe......overstim.......and i think gordon freeman should have his pussy eaten until he cannot fucking take it anymore

maybe......even.......maybe after gordon comes a second time. benrey doesnt stop sucking and licking. at first it seems like benreys just working him thru the orgasm, but then he just keeps going. and gordons sensitive, hes too fucking sensitive, each time benreys tongue swipes over him he jerks and tries to close his legs. frantically gasping that he did it, okay, he got gordon off, voice getting high and broken, but benrey just pulls back and looks at him flatly and then very deliberately. spreads his legs wider in one swift movement. and pins them with his big fucking hands. and just looks him in the eye and says "i know, dude" and puts his mouth right back on gordon anyway. and gordons legs twitch like fucking mad but benreys so strong and he cant move and hes slamming his fist on the table again from how overwhelming it is, tears prickling in the corner of his eyes, howling into the open air how benreys killing him, hes fuckin killing him, why does he like jerking gordon around so much........and benrey glances up and breaks the seal of his mouth around gordons dick and mutters something about how he must not be doin his job if gordons still talking

i want him to howl wordlessly with frustration and grab benreys hair and yank him closer as gordon rounds the corner from "the agony of getting sucked off when hes hyper-sensitive" to "the agony of chasing yet another orgasm". i want this dude to be tonguefucked until he wails!!! I Want Him Ruined. meat: massacred. pussy: destroyed. i think it would be cool if gordon freeman was wailing at him for more, dont stop, benrey, until benreys got two big fingers back in him and is squeezing in a third alongside them and hes so fucking tight from having just come twice in a row, but the groan gordon lets out when its finally inside him is so guttural and low it makes benrey blink and shiver

and i think that for the grand finale benrey should smash that dogboy pussy. thanks for coming to my TED talk

hes been going thru this shit for hours. taking his time to really screw gordon freeman up good. and its been so fuckin worth it just to hear all the fun new sounds gordon made (cuz of him, he reminds himself). benreys been awkwardly adjusting his dick in his pants for way too fucking long, and gordons been watching him do it. staring at it. saliva collecting at the corner of his mouth. he was achingly hard the whole time he was giving gordon a glorified pedicure. and he didnt even ask to shift forward from where he was kneeling to let the arch of gordons foot press against his dick. its been just as hard for benrey to keep control and stick to the rules of the game as it has been gordon, and this dude oughta get to crush mad pussy okay

> the thought of this is kinda making me insane actually so. im just. h. im just thinking about how it would go down like. augh. i think that gordon would be shaking from his third consecutive orgasm but like. he can keep going. and he finally gets a moment to breathe and look at benrey whos just a mess. hair messed up where gordon gripped it, red faced, mouth dripping with his own drool and gordon's slick and hes remembers like. this guys so fucked up over this, god. and hed been thinking about his dick the whole time, even though he thought he wasnt gonna get anything out of it for a while. hes been wanting it. and so like like he doesnt want to play any more games. hes been good he deserves this.

> benrey's still got three fingers in him so he kind of just pushes him back and breaths out "fuck me". benrey's actually absolutely dazed from everythin and has to process it like "huh. wh" but gordons like "just fucking do it, cmon. im not gonna say it again" and benrey finally actually registers it like. "y-yeah. okay." and he barely has any time to think before gordon's hauling him up onto the table. starts fumbling to get his pants and shirt off and gordons practically tearing at his clothes which doesnt fucking help. letting out little growls maybe like "fucking. jerking me around this whole time fuck you. can see how much you wanted it" and they finally manage to get them off and gordon pulls him on top and ruts against him. its finally now clicking for benrey that fuck. this is actually happening and he pushes into him with a low sound and gordon's thighs and tail go still and taut until he bottoms out. gordon's fucking panting and clenches down on him and they both let out a little sound and benrey starts fucking into him slow. but cmon. this dudes been pent up the whole goddamn time. its barely any time before hes gripping gordon's hips and fucking up into him fast and hard, hips slapping against gordon's at a desperate pace. he probably tries to make it last but he cant, hes been edging himself too long. im going to fucking die see ya everybody

thinking about just how fuckin bad benreys legs would shake from the effort of pushin in reaaalll slow b/c gordons so fucking tight after having gotten off 3 times in a row.......trembling from the effort of trying to hold himself back......and gordons nails digging into the back of his neck and dragging down his back to leave long red furrows behind....... gordons eyes screwed tightly shut while the only thought on repeat in his head is "oh my god hes big hes so fucking big" and he can barely fuckin speak

> like yeah he had three fingers in him but this is so goddamn much. thinking about...gordon's hands clawing into back involuntarily from the stretch, letting out little cut off pants while his legs shake a little from it. i just. like the thought of his tail pointing out stiffly and trembling too. the absolutely wrecked sound he would let out when he bottomed out, all of that tension kind of leaving him in a drawn out deep moan. benrey shifts just a little to get a better grip on gordon's thighs and it causes him to yelp a little cause its so fucking much just from that movement.

> benrey's trying not to move but his hips are twitching from holding himself back and gordons letting out little. sounds that are making him insane. he pulls out just a little and that makes gordon let out a whine. and when he pushes back in gordon lets out breathless "fuck!" like its been punched out of him. even going this slowly is making him fucking shake like a leaf. hes squeezing his eyes shut tight heaving deep breaths, chest rising and falling fast. hes so full be can barely think. and benrey's just fucking stupid with cumbrain and hes saying all kinds of filthy shit like "h - fucking - so fucking good for me. so good. nnh. best. best friend -" and that makes gordon let out a whine. the praise has been getting to him the whole time and just. again with the loaded phrase of best friend. like the possesiveness of that. that combined with the near-overstimulation of getting filled makes him actually kind of lose it. his thighs clamp around benreys hips and his toes curl and pulls benrey's hips forward to make him thrust into him, so he stop going slow. bye. goodbye

#asky #writin stuff #Good bye

52 notes · View notes

jiminrings · 4 years

Note

could you maybe do something where it’s yoongi in rich boy!jimin’s au and he meets his y/n or a peak into how their relationship would work ? i love you 🥺💚

contact: you

pairing: yoongi x y/n

glimpse: the water’s cold but yoongi makes it warmer; or that piece in which model!yoongi meets his y/n!!

wordcount: 4k

notes: i love you too!!! :D

also, this yoongi comes from insufferable, that rich boy!jimin au!! in this fic we’re all just gonna pretend that yoongi’s PA goes by another name and not y/n :)) yoongi’s y/n is not jimin’s y/n!! pls don’t be confused that’s all hehe // gif isn’t mine!!

there’s a fine line in between compliments and insults

hENCE backhanded compliments

but in a way it’s still a compliment, right???

would it still be a backhanded compliment if you give it to yourself though,,,,, that’s the question

tHREE YEARS IN FILM SCHOOL

you just can’t seem to know whether graduating a year early than intended from film school is a cOMPLIMENT OR AN INSULT

is it an achievement or is it a curse??

ok initially, you were proud from graduating a year early because that meant one less year dedicating yoursef to studies, right???

big wrong :D

that meant you choosing the most cramped schedule with more units than you think is humanely possible

you just cAN’T help wanting to go on with life faster and easier!!! you went with this track anyway so you could become closer to the diRECTOR you’ve always wanted to be

it’s a pretty simple analogy

and u don’t get why people who took the same course as you did, didn’t think as the same way as you do

because like for example

there’s two options to go to your destination

hmmm let’s say it’s to go to the park!!! a rEALLY famous and beautiful park and if you aren’t early enough, then there’d be no place for you to lay a blanket out and properly enjoy it

the first route is a nicely-paved, nicely-leveled and cemented road, but it’s gonna take about twenty minutes because there’s traffic

the second route is a much shorter trip that would take only ten minutes, but the road may be a lil rocky and not all postlamps are lit and there mAY be a crossing chicken or not

of course you’d go for the second route :D

and now you know why much more people wanted to go with the first route aHA

no disrespect to your alma mater or something but that shit sUCKED

sURE they had decent dorms and it was your decision to take the more hectic schedule that meant much less time for you to do basically anything that’s outside of your film degree

it was having instant noodles atleast four out of the seven days in a week and sometimes even skipping that processed goodie because it always felt like you’d have to be hustling

hustling is a very icky word in ur humble opinion but you like saying that now ironically in your quarter-life crisis

it was the “why would i wait to cook this for ten minutes wHEN i could be doing something else more productive iNSTEAD of eating aka delecting food that helps give what i need to atleast enact my motor functions???” thinking

which is unhealthy ok

beyond unhealthy lmao that’s what you’re sure of

and then you graduated film school!!!

the opportunities you were promised of when you were still studying?? aha zero :D

the idea that once you graduate film school and you iMMEDIATELY have the job of whatever you majored such as directing or screenwriting and etc.,,,,, that is a whole load of bull-

it’s a hierarchy

you’ve graduated with LATIN HONORS and u persevered for three years with your major in directing and u wore a really nice dress for your ceremony :))))

and now you’re fetching coffee and making twenty calls in a half hour and running around to set things up :)))))

an intern :)))))

the only ones who immediately become what they’ve studied for has sOME sort of tie and pull to the industry

you may have made a thesis film that’s ranked the highest in the history of all thesis films in your university :)) and you may have had submitted it to film competitions and got approved and got some plaques :)))

but no that doesn’t mean a sINGLE bit once you’re out in the real world

you’re just taking whatever you get

i mean you dID want to work your way up in the film industry

like as in the movie industry??? the one you went to film school for?????

but what you are doing now :)) is working as an intern for this huge company that handles tv commercials and adverts and shoots :))

aHA not exactly the film industry but atleast it’s still within the media industry, right??

right???

pls say right

anyways

the agenda for today is this watch shoot!!

there’s a tv commercial to be produced out of it and there would also be multiple shoots for the models who’d be here

you dressed up extra good today :D

it wouldn’t matter but atleast it’s the thought that counts somehow

your company’s official lanyard kinda sucks and you can’t change the lace for it nO matter what but it’s no pressure!! your outfit’s gonna make up for it

there’s not exactly a dress code for interns,, it just goes for the terms as long as:

a) it’s still work-appropriate

b) this is a simultaneously unspoken yet obvious rule bUt you just need some boundaries,,,, you can’t stroll up into the set looking like the executive producer or the director who looks a lil bit fancy

c) you shouldn’t attract attention so much because you’re an intern :)) even if that iS the sole purpose of the intern because otherwise how would you land a more secure and higher-ranking job???? are they thinking or-

it’s a black shirt!!!

groundbreaking

but it’s a nice black shirt with embroidery in the front!!!

it’s just n i c e embroidered in the front and uH right on the middle of your chest area that’s clothed obviously but that’s cool

simple, casual, effortless, tINY bit fun

you also aren’t an intern with black pants

but no this is a nICER pair of pants

they’re like slacks!! like fitted slacks but not too fitted and not too formal

you wanted to wear it in tan but that’s not exactly optimized for your job because you are literally always in the go

it’s always just ease of movement in your clothes

and if you could dash in them in getting coffee or whatever the fuck the production team wants or look for duct tape and print lacking scripts like a madman, then you’re good to go :D

you caved in buying those nurse shoes that are raved about because you’re on your feet almost 24/7 and slip-on vans would not always save ur life

ur always wearing ankle support socks too because you’d rather look like an athlete misplaced in a commercial shoot rather than crying at home with how sore your body and most eSPECIALLY your legs are

that can’t stop you either

so now,,, you’re wearing cute socks on top of the support

it’s barely noticeable but it’s the effort you put in ok

and to be extra presentable, you traded your digital watch for the day with your watch that looks a little bit more classy with the silver!!!

it’s an analog watch with a really nice and shiny silver watch strap and although normally ur mind takes tWO seconds to buffer and read it as opposed to instantly knowing the exact time with a digital one, it’s worth it :D

it better be

you can get atleast one glance from park jimin and your life would be forever fulfilled

you signed a non-disclosure agreement once it was presented because after all

wHO WOULDN’T GUSH WHEN THEY KNEW THE LINE-UP FOR THIS SHOOT????

park jimin!!!

kim taehyung!!!

jung hoseok!!!

that’s the only three you knew so far

because they said that you’d know the other ones who are participating for the shoot once it actually happens

and that could mean two things

either you don’t know them at all oR they’d be really really famous and this ensures that you wouldn’t breach the nda you signed

hmmmm jimin’s kinda cute you’re not gonna lie :))

you can’t laze around in the job though because your walkie-talkie’s already bearing your name again and you’re being summoned now

this may be a blessing in disguise tho

you’re one of the interns who get called and noticed frequently and although that means mORE WORK, that also means you’re more trusted and more likely to secure the job you’re aspiring for!!!

“Y/N. There’s some extra copies of the shoot schedule by one of the makeup tables. Bring it over to me in the brief room.”

“of course!!! :D”

that’s one of your favorite producers specifically calling for you in the radio

he also talks very formally

you’ve always been a little bit close to mr. hyun bin because you were a bit of the teacher’s pet back in uni!!! he served as a professor while also being a producer and HE’S the reason you got accepted immediately as an intern here anyway!!

they’re always in the blue folders and that’s what you’re looking for very eagerly right now

because uHHHH there seems to be about a hundred makeup tables right now and mr. hyun didn’t exactly specify where

ok now where could that be

okay no it’s not on the table

lmao you find them sitting by a chair in front of the makeup table and you need to get it before someone sITS and dents the folder because mr. hyun gets a bit cranky when the folder isn’t smooth

“But the folder’s job is to keep the documents inside it smooth. If the folder’s damaged, then that also means that the contents inside it, is also damaged to a degree.”

no he said that

he literally said that once

if you could read thoughts in the air then mr. hyun probably speaks in proper punctuation AND capitalization

you found the schedule

and you also found this guy dressed in a really nice suit who looks very breathtaking

.... and is frustrated?

NOW HE LOOKS VERY FAMILIAR!!! you just can’t remember the name right now

he must be a talent because no one else is wearing the same suit that he is and his visuals are just beyond gorgeous so that must be it

he’s hunched on his makeup chair alone???

and there’s something on his hand and he keeps dipping his finger to his cupped hand and keeps squinting to the mirror in front of him and

“do you need help, sir?”

yoongi almost jumps out from his chair because oh my god are you-

oh huh.,., you’re not his personal assistant

you see

contact lens would be the absolute BANE of yoongi’s whole existence

he just can’t put it in

he’s said that sO many times to people who find him frustrating over it and whenever they make a “that’s what she said” joke it just makes him want to poke his eyeballs

“no, no. uh it’s okay!! i just can’t aGH shit i just need to learn how to put these cursed contacts in.”

oh he’s cute

like real cute

“name?”

wait wHAT

he’s a bit perplexed because why are you asking for his name

and uh quick question wHY don’t you know his name

not to brag but yoongi,,,, he knows to himself that he’s a world-renowned model!!! he’s done countless shoots!!! he’s appeared in so many things!!!!! why don’t you-

ok he’s being a little bit boastful in his head now

“min yoongi.”

he just states his name and he doesn’t get how would that help with his problem right now

you’ve asked because you’re searching for his name by the schedule and you’re just absent-mindedly muttering his name as you search for it

“min yoongi min yoongi min yOU OH!!! oh!!!! min yoongi!!!!!”

lmao alright that’s it

you remember him immediately and it clicks with you that oh my god this is min yoongi!!!!

that’s the reaction he was initially looking for but it’s okay he’s just gonna be humble about it

“okay well first of all, it says here that you’re about to be called in nine minutes from now so hOW about i just give you a hand, hmm??”

that is not exactly a request

because even before yoongi could like half-heartedly agree (he wants to do it so badly but he can’t) and thank you, you’re already pulling his palm towards yours

“the solution’s drying out,,, how long have you been trying to get it in?”

he hears you ask him in a teasing voice and he kinda frowns at that because well NOW he’s too embarrassed to answer :((

you’re wordlessly grabbing the solution that’s on his desk before you squirt some on your curved palm and plucking out the lens that used to be on his palm

“you have to clean it first.”

“mhmm....,., yes.,.,.., i know that.”

a little bit

jUST a little bit

“you clean it first in these motions, see?? don’t rub it clockwise or anything like that”

ooh so that’s how it goes

he doesn’t want to be rude but he thinks that you’re not the director of this shoot

and there’s nothing bad about that!!!! he just wouldn’t know how to feel if the director were to see him frustrated over contact lens and they’d be the one to do it for him

“pick it up like a bowl!! make sure that the ends of it turn iNWARDS, okay?? inwards!!! if the ends poke out then it would literally hurt so much and maybe you’d be blind”

YOONGI DIDN’T EVEN KNOW THAT UNTIL NOW

so that’s where he went wrong for like five times,,,,,

“never put it in dry, okay? otherwise it would hurt too.”

that’s it yoongi’s taking this girl’s words down

he doesn’t know wHO you are but he appreciates you

“now tilt your head down a little bit for me :))”

yoongi bows his head and it kinda makes you snort because he was serious with that one

“nO NO just a little bit, mr. min.”

you have your thumb on his chin just to get it to the right position

he will d-word right now oh my god is he a dummy

how could you pOSSIBLY put the contacts on him if his head was hung that low

in any angle though, he looks so nice

he has long eyelashes too and they’re pointing downwards so that may add on to his problem

“now look up”

whew oh god you need to avert your eyes a little bit because you’re just realizing now that this is mIN YOONGI you’re dealing with right now

“or at me!! yeah that would work too :))”

yoongi’s just killing it with his social cues huh :)))))))))

you’re placing delicately the lens by his sclera and yoongi kinda panics and is at the same excited because this is dEFINITELY HAPPENING

“ok calm dOWN and now move your eye until the contact clings and keep moving it still even if you’ve got it already for like eight seconds!!!”

he did it

well technically yOU DID IT

BUT STILL!!!!!

“oh my god that is the qUICKEST thing ever omg now the other eye!! do the other eye!!! :D”

he’s so giddy over you putting on his contact lens and he doesn’t even know you and you just feel so familiar to him!!

yoongi trusts you with his contact lens and that’s enough trust you’d ever need

“aaaaand we’re done!! :D”

“thank you!! what’s your n-“

alright that is mr. hyun asking for a follow-up in the walkie-talkie by asking where’s the schedules and that means you immediately have to dash to the briefing room :))

yoongi didn’t even catch your name :((

you didn’t even get to say goodbye to him :((

you didn’t get to see yoongi for the rest of the shoot because after you’ve delivered the papers, you were then summoned to take care of the catering company that’s gonna do it’s second rounds and to facilitate whatever they needed to do :((((

it’s a bummer though

you dIDN’T even get to see the actual shoot get done because you were too busy verifying the payments if those fish fingers are really priced like that in the receipt you were given :((

you’re probably never gonna see him again

there’s another shoot you’ve been called for again the next week and this time, it was for a luxury brand that’s releasing it’s summer line and the settings for it were a beach AND a swimming pool

they couldn’t have just become satisfied with a beach and had to add on a fancy pool filled with chlorine and then more chlorine for the sets

“Y/N, do you know how to swim?”

mr. hyun asks you so casually as your only task as of now is to stand beside him as he lists things and you check it off in your clipboard

“hmm. i do know how to swim, mr. hyun, but not professionally, y’know?? they don’t exactly teach dives in film school”

he laughs at that and you smile at that because good for you :))

“Good. Because we’re gonna need someone to keep these floaties still, and the lifeguard’s out, and here’s a rashguard.”

what

what in the actual fUCK

you see

although this is for a summer line and a summer shoot

yOU’RE SHOOTING IN JANUARY

and you came into work today not thinking that you’re gonna be in a frEEZING pool wearing a rashguard underneath your shirt to keep these floaties still!!!!

you love your job you love your job you love your job!!!!!

maybe if you say it enough, it’s gonna come true!!!!!

“oH ITS YOU AGAIN!!!”

hold up

that’s

“yoongi????”

“cONTACT GIRL!!!!!”

the both of you are genuinely surprised to see each other ok

at this point, you should automatically assume that yoongi would always be the undisclosed model in your shoots

you’re looking up at him and he’s looking down on you because CLEARLY he is not in the freezing pool as you are

“i’d let you put in my contacts right now, but it doesn’t exactly make a good addition to chlorine :]”

the water’s freezing but yoongi just makes it warmer :))

mr. hyun’s saying the directions to you as to where in the pool you should place yoongi and the floatie’s slippery and you dON’T want to risk getting the clothes wet because it’s not intended.,..,. even if this is a summer shoot

he has a tough crowd (you) and you’re just kinda deadpanning because you now feel you aRE a little bit embarrassed even if this is your job and u shouldn’t be

“i’m kidding!! jus kidding :D”

humor doesn’t exactly click when you’re about waist-deep and aBOUT to be shoulder-deep into freezing cold water

and now since you look a fool, you’re just gonna deal with the slippery floatie and yoongi notices so he’s the one who takes your hand instead as he nudges you to move

:] i was just joking pls don’t hate me :]

you stop the moment mr. hyun says sTOP that’s perfect and before you could awkwardly waddle yourself away from the camera’s view-

“is your face just good and the sunscreen you used is matte, or do you just not have any sunscreen on??”

yoongi asks with much concern as if it’s the most important thing in the world and he doesn’t have a shoot to do

“i don’t have-...”

“no? oh come on, contact girl!! come here for a second!!!”

you look to mr. hyun because Sir is it really and he’s just screaming back with his eyes going gO COME TO MIN YOONGI

you’re confused and before you know it, yoongi’s reaching for you and digging into his pocket and-

“sunscreen stick!! the sun’s always there even if it’s freezing, y’know?”

this time, it’s yoongi tilting your chin up and very delicately swipes the stick on your face and even taps it in

:))

“all done!! let’s start the shoot!!”

he claps up and everybody gets into position and you have to waddle back to your spot awkwardly with your cheeks heating up

you don’t know if it’s yoongi’s power move to swipe his own sunscreen sticks on people but it fEELS LIKE IT IS

he’s very well-aware of what he’s done and he now has every intention to ask you what’s your name after this

although tHAT doesn’t happen again because now mr. hyun’s telling you to come up and get all dried down because after this, he’s gonna need you to ask the front desk if you could access more of their amenities for the sudden changes in the shoot :(((

yoongi almost doesn’t want to leave the set because you’re out again :((( and he still hasn’t had the chance to ask you your name

uGH it’s just so unfair :(((

you feel the same way and you just wanna see him!!! even if he’s only gonna tease you for most of the time and you’re gonna be a blushing mess throughout!!!

you’re cranky ok

you’re more cranky than how mr. hyun gets with dented folders

you’ve had two back-to-back shoots this week and you’ve only had ONE hour of sleep for the whole time

seriously

not to mention that you thought you’d also see yoongi in atleast one of those projects :(( but it was a no-go either

your job is just sO demanding

it starts earlier and ends later than how the printed schedules say and is much more different than the talent’s

speaking of talents, these artists are just pure out LATE and not only are they setting a bad impression on the director!!!!

but they are also the reason for the bane of your existence!!!you call their drivers non-stop to ask for the whereabouts and to adjust the catering’s schedule and the amends that you need to make for people

they make your job harder and your hours longer and your fatigue greater

you actually feel like you’re gonna pASS OUT

mr. hyun’s the one who’s assigning you to these projects and as MUCH as you’re thankful because that means better pay and more exposure and more experience,,, he’s really not seeing the fatigue he’s putting you thru right now

you forgot your ankle support,,,, you have nOT eaten three meals today,,,, you haven’t drank water for hours,,,,, you fEEL like you’re gonna pass out

and someone’s just called you over again to deliver these hair pins to this specific trailer asap and oh god your ankles are just gonna fall off at this point

ok quick knock and you enter and-

“hmm?? oh, it’s okay!! we don’t need it anymore. someone else already brought in new ones :))”

fu-

“cONTACT GIRL!!!!!!”

if you took a moment to read the name that’s by the front of the trailer, you’d know that this is yoongi’s trailer and the makeup artists just went straight to his,, instead of him coming to them because he just can’t be damned to stand and walk over there :D

the makeup artist you were talking to moved out of the way so the both of you could see each other and sO yoongi could also stop stretching his neck out to the max

they’re finishing up anyway

his contact lens case was held by this makeup artist and she was about to put em in and yoongi snatched back the case :))

“here!!! put them on me!!!”

okay that’s a bit awkward for the other girl yikes.,.,. she’s just uh gonna exit the trailer with the other makeup artists now

“hi.”

you only greet back now as you get the case for him and yoongi frowns at that

why aren’t you cheery???? he’s used to you being more enthusiastic than him so wHY is he the one carrying the conversation (that hasn’t been even started) that’s already dwindling out

you’re getting really really sluggish and this sudden heavy wave of sleepiness is really hitting you

you dO look kinda hazy

“are you okay??”

yoongi’s holding you by the sides of your arms and your eyes are blinking so slowly as you try to nod but that just won’t cut it for him

“well i think yOU need to rest”

he’s standing up and is about to put you onto his sofa so you could like perhaps nap a minute or two since he knows fatigue when he sees it

but by the looks of it, he can’t even make you lie down because you’re already sitting down

sitting down

on his lap

oN HIS LAP

this is really.,.,...nice

yoongi’s a bit shocked and there aren’t any sentences forming in his head besides “what’s your name, contact girl???” as if that is the mOST pressing issue right now

“ᶦ’ᵐ ʸ/ⁿ” is what you could only practically mumble because this pillow is really soft and warm and heavenly and u want nothing more at the moment than to be buried in it

yoongi has never felt this soft

ever

there’s you accidentally falling asleep on him

literally ON him

and his hands are still hovering but he decides to relocate them on your back, rubbing small circles and even patting softly

your hair smells really good too

he must’ve been to engrossed in it as you burst awake some minutes later and you almost bump his jaw on your way up

“oh my gOD did i just pass out on your lap???”

well you’re still sat on his lap and you’re scrambling away while you’re still groggy and he has to reach for you before you could topple over

“no problem!! it’s cool i sWEAR!!!”

he quickly explains what’s happened and how he’s close with hyun bin and how he literally conversed for like two seconds and your producer immediately agreed

yoongi just said “hEY mr. hyun!!! y/n works for you, right?? i’m SO sorry if this isn’t in my position to ask but y’know she did just kinda pass out and i was wondering if she could just lay down in my trailer for awhile??”

within two minutes mr. hyun apparently went to the trailer and delivered your backpack and he keeps in mind to apologize to you later on and hmmmmm is there anything going on between you and yoongi???

“are there any pillows?”

underneath the cushion the both of you are sitting at, there is a shit tON of pillows he just keeps there

there’s memory foam!! cotton!! feather!! a hybird of those two!!!

yoongi decides to answer and he delivers it with the straightest answer possible

“... no.”

he quickly clears his throat as he looks to his lap and taps on it so you could lie down on him!!

you think you like yoongi :)))

yoongi is positive that he likes you :)))

you stand up for a moment and he panics because nO where are you going??? but it was just for you to retrieve your phone and grab your earphones!!

you kind of have an irrational fear of buying airpods and that shit just falling every two seconds and then you could nEVER find it

and so here you are :)) offering yoongi an earphone as you lay your head on his lap

there’s just something so familiar with the melody

the lyrics

the vOICE

so familiar to the point that yoongi’s heart practically drops because oh god

tHAT’S HIM

THAT’S HIM IN HIS OTHER JOB THAT ONLY HE KNOWS ABOUT

“this suga guy.,, i like him.”

“o-oH???”

yoongi doesn’t know whether he should feel jealous because you like this suga guy

but he doesn’t know shit because he IS that suga guy!!!

and so his mind’s fuzzy and all-conflicted as you babble on, about to be lulled to sleep again

“once i get to make a film, like an actual full-length film and jUST not a thesis film,,,, i’m hiring him,,,, i don’t care if he consumes like 80% of my budget for that film iM HIRING HIM!!!”

yoongi’s about to practically combust right now

he’s grinning from ear-to-ear, looking down on you who he’s grown fond of so much so fast and is lying down on his lap, his thumb pressing down on your cheek softly as he tilts his head

“do you wanna know a secret?”

#tHANK U SO MUCH BABIE THIS WAS SO HEARTWARMING AND FUN TO WRITE!!!#feedback pls and thank u :D #requested drabbles #yoongi #min yoongi #yoongi imagine #yoongi imagines #min yoongi imagine #min yoongi imagines #yoongi blurb #yoongi blurbs #yoongi oneshot #yoongi oneshots #min yoongi oneshot #yoongi headcanon #yoongi headcanons #yoongi fic rec #yoongi fic recs #insufferable

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delicrieux · 4 years

Note

Hello! May I have a one-shot with Kylo being injured and reader, who is part of the resistance, finds him and takes care of him? Thanks!

idk how this turned out to be 5k words but WHEW i mean if ppl want me to continue it im down so send in sum request of wat u think should happen!! xoxo gossip girl

requests are open! | masterlist | part 2.

Fear. The kind that makes it hard to breathe as if you are kept underwater; the kind that makes your muscles clench and freeze as all senses flow out one by one. Today had been almost too typical — you woke up, you trained, you talked to your comrades and learned battle strategy — and you were certain your evening walk would be just as uneventful. The breeze in your hair was playful; the setting sun provided warm light and set your surroundings in a pleasant, rosy glow. You like the fresh air; you like exploring; you like the freedom that comes with being alone in wilderness. And in turn, it serves as a reminder for why you are fighting in the first place. To preserve this peace, this freedom, that now has been tarnished when you stumble upon a body.

For a heartbeat you think he’s dead — his expression is lifeless and his face, pale as first snow, is bruised, covered in soot and dried blood. Willing your legs to move, you approach cautiously, not breathing, afraid to break the shrill, sudden silence — no birdsong, no wails of wind passing through trees… nothing. Life had, at that moment, stilled completely. But as you draw closer, grass crunching under your feet softly, you intake a breath of both relief and surprise. Dark locks of hair spray on his forehead and obscure the minuscule knit of his brows, his trembling lashes. He’s alive. The thought consumes you and you fall to your knees, skidding beside him, pushing his hair from his face and landing your palm on his forehead.

It’s awfully cold. Chilling. Almost biting at your sensitive flesh, urging you to pull away. It rolls in waves, this sudden cold, sudden sickness, as if it is a virus that spreads and you have caught it with this minimal contact. But you don’t pull away, despite the near overwhelming urge to do so, despite the fear returning with a new blow. Instead you glide your fingers down his jaw and press on his neck, breaking into a small, crooked smile once you feel a slow drum against them. He is alive, but barely. You glance about him, looking around the area. Nothing out the ordinary, no branches broken, no bushes disturbed and no trails left on the grass. How he got here is a mystery that will have to be solved a different time.

You hope he will tell you once he wakes up, if he even wakes up at all.

That, and, his name, too.

Your base is small and tugged away in a dense jungle, the tall trees and heat warding from unwanted visitors — the First Order. The compartments are small; there are barely above a few dozen people here; it serves more as a safe haven for lost wanderers looking for a cause or shelter, or a backup base in case others were destroyed and the rebels had nowhere to go. It is far away enough from war. Everyone here is, to some extent, safe.

You had never been on the front lines. You had never faced a Storm Trooper, had never seen the Force at work — if there even is such a thing, speculations speculations, nothing consistent, merely gossip — and you had never seen a dead body. Perhaps that is why you froze up so terribly at the sight of him. Perhaps that’s why you felt as if a void opened within you, swallowing up the last shred of light, of life, and leaving you hollow.

You should get used to the sight, though. There will be many dead in battle.

He’s the only one occupying a bed in the Medical Wing and he hasn’t woken up for two days now. His vitals are stable — no internal bleeding, no disease detected, nothing out of place as it seemed. But he is lost in deep sleep, constantly dreaming about something that made him tremble and muss and toss and turn, but never wake. It is entirely bizarre how his state is simply there, caused by no injury, no blow, nothing. And the more you take care of him… the more questions you get.

You eat in the cafeteria, a vast enough, pale walled space occupied by few people during lunch time. Next to you sits a blue eyed, blonde haired cherubic woman – she serves as the doctor, the only doctor here. She smiles lightly at you when you catch her gaze. You had always wondered why her name is Vendetta.

The amount of denizens is small here, so small in fact that the only ones serving under this branch is a rag tag team of scavengers, travelers, nobodies that had abandoned their old lives to fight in this war. Rebels, quite literally, with a cause. Many have taken new names. Vendetta, too, had a name before this, a life, a different purpose. Though her odd choice leads you to believe that what ever had happened to drive her here was painful and severe, deserving justice. In front of you sits a tall, bony, brown haired, brow eyed mechanic with a scar running down half of their face – Q. And beside them, July – you had never seen him smiling, had never heard his voice hold a tender note in it. He is always displeased. Always with a frown.

“Seven.” Vendetta calls you, noting your blank stare, the untouched food in your plate. Seven. You chose this because you were the seventh child in your family, and, subsequently, the seventh person to join the Resistance when this base first opened.

“She’s probably thinking about the stranger.” Q mutters, taking a sip, “His origins are…” They glance about, leaning in slightly, “ A hot topic, after all.”

“We get injured wanderers all the time.” Vendetta waves them off, “As if he’s any different.”

“I don’t think we should be so quick to dismiss him, V.” July grumbles, his voice low, the sound of crunching gravel. He sits with his arms crossed over his chest, observing the three of you with something akin to hostility, “You never know who may be working for the Order.”

“You can’t just assume that.” You pipe up, “He might just be another gambler dropped by the Floating Casino because he couldn’t pay his debts.”

“Or he might be a spy.” July stresses, glaring.

“No one knows there is a base here.” You continue, unrelenting, “Half the Resistance doesn’t know it exists, how can someone from the Order?”

“Still, I advice we exercise caution.” Q says calmly, a pleasant smile on their face — if anyone can defuse an argument before it starts, it’s them, “You never know what people are hiding, Seven.”

“Okay,” Vendetta chimes, “I will certainly not disclose this vital information when the man awakes from his comatose state. I shall make sure to confuse and frighten him further by chaining him to his bed.”

“Good.” July says.

“That is not what I had in mind, and you know it.” Q mutters, a tad disappointed, “I was thinking more along the lines of… An interview.”

“Too civil.” July mumbles, “I say we go with Vendetta’s idea.”

“That was not an idea,” She hisses, “it was sarcasm.”

“Fine, interview.” You submit, “Either way, I doubt anyone from the Order would not say they are from there. They are feared. Probably would think he has the upper hand, or something. Plus, our disguise is impeccable. We look like a research facility. Better yet, a shelter if no one wanders up to the main rooms.”

“I also sincerely doubt anyone, Order or not, is so good at lying first thing when they wake up.” Vendetta agrees.

July narrows his eyes at her, “That is an awfully naive observation to make.”

“Really now? It is a known fact that people half-asleep always tell the truth.”

Another hour of this and you feel drained and sore and with a mild headache. As much as their company has helped you, they can be a bit too eager to prove one another wrong. On most occasions you’d enjoy the chatter. Today, however, you feel too distracted to focus on anything. Q makes some good points, July argues, Vendetta and her biting comments pick at your skin. Always the blazing look in her eyes, always a certain gleam of anger hiding within her mellow, sweet tone. You excuse yourself when you finish your meal and they do not keep you from leaving. Perhaps they noticed you being out of it. Perhaps they were too caught up in their new topic – Lo and Chester’s sudden break up.

It does not take you long to come to the Medical Wing. The door shuts with a silent sweep and your heart drops – the bed is empty. Before you can do much else strong arms wrap around you from behind. With a yelp you feel a hand squeeze your throat and your breath leaves you with a helpless whine, sparks flying in your vision. Your reflexes kick in before you can control them. In a panic, you elbow your attacker in the chest and the grip loosens a bit, enough to allow you to escape and put some distance. Inhaling mouthfuls of air, you turn to the man that had been sleeping since you found him in the wilderness.

You never quite realized how tall he is, or how angry he could be. He’s confused and you see fire in his eyes, a sneer on his face, and he stands unmoving, waiting for you to try something, anything, so that he could grab you and try to kill you again.

You raise your hands, palms up —a fragile, harmless motion to indicate you mean no harm. His guard is still up. He’s heaving and his shoulders are tense, his gaze not once leaving your form, “…Hi,” You wheeze, almost voiceless, “I’m not here to hurt you.” You indicate softly. Cold, again, as if thrown into a bottomless ocean; body heavy, like a stone. You gulp. “Are you alright?” You question gently, afraid to provoke him again. “You must be tired. You’ve been out for a while.”

“Where am I?” His voice is deep and scratchy and it seems to set him off. He trembles from anger, you can almost feel the steady build up of rage in his chest, ”Who are you?”

“I’m Seven.” You introduce, “I found you outside our base. Do you know how you got here?”

He takes a threatening step forward and your arms shoot higher, “I’m not your enemy.” You insist, “You are not a prisoner here. You were dying and I wanted to help you.”

He regards you for a silent moment as if unsure whether to believe you or not. However, you sense that he will not try to hurt you, for now at least. You give him a shaky smile, trying to ease him — you cannot imagine how frightening it is to awake in some room among strangers and not knowing where you are or what had happened. “Do you…know your name?” You continue your questions, your arms slowly falling by your sides. After another pause, he nods curtly, “Good. That’s good.” you step away from his bed, “Please, lie down. You’re still recovering. No shady business, I promise.”

You are a bit surprised that he listens, but you don’t show it. He’s cautious, regarding you as if you were some dangerous animal cornering him, and his walk is sluggish. You can tell it’s hard for him to move, but don’t say anything. You doubt it would do any good. He finally sits down and just stares at you. You try to smile again, “Do you know how you got here? It’s okay if you don’t.”

“How long have I been here for?” He asks instead.

“Two full days in the base.” You say calmly, “But out there?” You vaguely motion with your head to the outside world, “I don’t know.”

Your answer unnerves him. For the first time his frown falls and he stares at you with big eyes and a trembling lip, as if a lost child not knowing what to do. That expression warps suddenly and he looks away, his hands gripping the side of the bed so tightly his knuckles turn white.

“Well, if there is…anything you need…” You start mildly, “You can call upon me. Or Vendetta. She’s the doctor here, so if you feel any pain or sickness, you should tell her. She’s sweet.” You smile, “And she will help. But right now, just try to rest…I’ll…leave you to it.”

You bolt past him to the door but– “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

You turn back to him, shaking your head lightly, “No. But it doesn’t matter. A lot of adventures come through here, lost and injured. You aren’t the first one. Now rest, please.”

He’s volatile, is what you learn upon the first days of his resurrection. His mood can change in a flip of a coin and he goes from placid to enraged in a blink of an eye. Tantrums, yelling — all signatures of a spoiled child not knowing what he has but simply wanting to break it. He’s nobility, or so your peers gossip. You hear snippets of all sorts of things, each more outrageous than the one before. The one that he is a prince kicked out of home for adultery seems to be the most popular one.

And he’s egotistical. He had not been, besides the attempted murder, that hostile and untamed towards you — the choking you told no one about as you concluded he simply felt threatened and scared. Though his other tantrums you are not so quick to chalk up as self-defense. Vendetta, exasperated, one evening told you that she somehow offended him — ”All I said is stop pouting because you need my help!” — and he, with a bruised ego, so high and mighty promptly jumped out of bed. Whatever he was trying to do backfired — perhaps he was trying to leave, or trying to grab something and to hit her with — but he slipped and fell and hit his head into the sharp corner of table. “And I said to him, oh I said: look what you’ve done now! Off to bed, quickly!” Vendetta finished bitterly, stabbing her fork idly into her food, possibly imagining his face there. His nose, much to V’s displeasure, was not broken, but an ugly gash and a dark bruise split his skin in half and he laid in bed sulking for at least a day.

As the week passed, he seemed to favor your company the most. It is not that he smiled and joked and laughed in your presence, and you were not exchanging secrets or hugging or even calling each other friends. He simply seemed to be more mellow around you, possibly because you oddly knew what to say and what to keep silent. It is as if you sensed the subtle shift of his moods; could read his expressions in a way no one could, perhaps no one tried. And you would come and visit him as often as you could when relieved of your duties — you felt responsible for him in a way, and you wondered if you would still feel this weight on your shoulders when he eventually left this place. After all it was you that had found him lying in the grass; it was you that had insisted to help him; and now, it is you that brings him food and tries to provide some comfort in a form of conversation. You don’t pry into his past, don’t even ask for his name, because you know he does not want to give it, and you won’t risk questioning in fear of another explosion of his temper. You talk about inconsequential things: what’s happening around the base, what sort of plants grow around here, what bugs could kill him before he took two steps. He especially enjoys hearing the rumors about him, even if he is too prideful to admit that they amuse him greatly.

“And what if I am?” He questions one evening, something akin to a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. His eyes, a kind hazel color that could be beautiful if not for the persistent angry spark within them that is now, seemingly, vacant, watch you closely.

You frown softly, “Are what?” You question, “A prince?” He nods. You snort, “Well then, your majesty, I shall make sure to inform the others. What will be your first decree?”

He pretends to think, “No more slacking around.” He says sternly, “This is supposed to be a military base, isn’t it?” He ends on a cheeky note. You gulp. Ah, yes, you might have let it slip that he’s in one of the Resistance’s safe houses, though you did not disclose the coordinates.

“On a mission to make fun illegal, are you?” You ask with a raised brow.

He frowns, “Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“Are too!”

Childish, really, though you suppose it is better than arguing with July.

You feel it before you hear it— rain and thunder. The merciless patter on the roof and on your window. In night the sound is almost deafening — a loud roar of an engine, followed by cracks of lightning and flashes in the dark sky. You would have slept through it if not for the pins and needles washing your skin behind the warm sheets thrown on your body. You stir. Thunder roars and a flash of bright white light illuminates your room and seeps through the cracks of your lashes. Cold, again, as if standing in the middle of a storm.

You finally sit up, rubbing your face and then looking around to see if your friends are playing some sort of joke on you. You were almost certain they had dragged you outside and left you to get drenched. But you are alone in your room and you frown and shiver from the biting cold. Groggily you throw the sheets away and leave your bed, not entirely certain where you are going but there is a pull in your gut and half-asleep you follow it. You think you might still be dreaming —the rain on your dry skin feels real, though all dreams feel real until you awake. You leave the dormitories and take the elevator to the first floor. The base is silent, save for the shrill of machinery. Finally, still in your pajamas and almost fully awake, you step past the main entrance and stop.

It’s pouring, a curtain of rain obscuring the confusing contours of trees and leaves and bushes. The darkness does not help. A bleak light pulses to life once you pass the sensor and your surroundings illuminate. Thunder, lighting, more rain. You stand safe and dry under the roof, and he stands at the very edge of it, half soaking, his face kissed and washed by the rain.

You are not sure what to think. He seems lonely standing there surrounded by darkness and water. It’s whispers, or something akin to that, that urge and beseech that he does not want to be alone. You hear them somewhere in the back of your mind. If he noticed you, and he should have with the light suddenly on, he does not show it. You approach him slowly, your footsteps concealed over the heavy drum of rain.

“Not used to it, are you?” You ask, your voice followed by a bolt of thunder. He stirs, head tilting in your direction. Your heart skips a beat when your eyes meet — there is no hostility in them, no anger, just a distant sadness. You give him a soft smile, “I can tell you don’t see it often. I didn’t, either, at first. I grew up surrounded by deserts and I had not seen a drop of rain for at least eighteen years. But, here… Well, there’s no shortage of it. We have storms at least once a week. You’ll grow sick of it before you leave, trust me.”

He says nothing, still looking at you. The light sniffs out. Both of you stand unmoving.

“Why are you here?” He asks, a note of genuine confusion slipping past his calm tone.

“I… don’t know.” You admit. A frown pulls on your brows and you bite your lower lip, staring into the heavy curtain of rain, “I…I really don’t know.” You turn to him, “Why are you here?”

He doesn’t answer for a moment, savoring the silence. Then, “I got bored laying in bed.” Somehow you feel that anxiety has more to do with his sudden nightly venture, rather than actual boredom. Though, you suppose it is quite tedious doing nothing all day. You imagine he is active, judging by his built. He has a strong character and he knows what he wants (most of the time), or rather has a distinct sense of what he doesn’t want. You imagine he’d be a good commander, or leader, with his deep voice and unrelenting stare, if only he wasn’t so sensitive. He’s too unpredictable. Too uncontrollable. His emotions get the better of him too quickly for him to be unbiased. For that reason alone you deem him unfit to be a spy, or a soldier, or a figure of military power. He’d burn all he would build if that were the case. No, him being of noble birth and being stranded here as some sort of twisted punishment sounds believable enough.

“What are you thinking?” He questions, drawing you out of your thoughts. You hum, ponder whether you should be honest with him or not. “Don’t lie to me.” He says suddenly and you jolt, heart drumming painfully in your chest. For a frightening moment you figured he could read your mind. Then again, you have been spending a lot of time together. He must have noticed how gentle you are with him, how carefully you pick your words. His signature frown is back, you see it for a second when lightning strikes.

“I was thinking about your life.” You admit, “Your work. Whether you really are a royal as most of my crew mates seem to think.”

Flash. You see half a smile blooming on his lips.

“But I know you won’t tell me. Don’t worry, I get it. Ladies love a mystery.”

“What?”

It’s your turn to grin, “Oh, please, it’s almost all I hear about. Seven brought a brooding stranger with a secret past into the base. Lo…Michel… Two of your rapid admirers. I already told you that your arrival has sparked many speculations.”

“I…I haven’t…” He sounds uncertain, flustered almost, as if embarrassed, but there is no way he is, you refuse to believe it. He stumbles upon his words and lastly says nothing. You snicker silently. Another flash of lightning and you see the same confused, puppy-like look on his face you have had the pleasure of seeing once or twice. He does not shield it this time, this moment of vulnerability. He probably doesn’t see the point because darkness obscures everything again.

You extend your hand to him as a silent offering. How many things have you offered him now? Life, health, your company. He regards it, ponders a bit, lastly gently clasps his hand over yours. You jerk. Electricity courses through you and your eyes go wide, tingles rushing all over your body. Lightning strikes. You see wonder on his face, a mimic of your own surprised expression.

“Come on,” You stutter, tugging him, “you’ll catch a cold.” He follows after you. The light blinks on. You don’t know what is happening. Couldn’t have been the thunder, the feeling is not as intense. It felt more like a build up of energy; like you accidentally touched a circuit and it zapped you.

Impossible, you hear something alike his voice but not quite — it’s quiet, distant, muddy.

“Hm?”

“What?”

Once inside, the door sweeps shut behind you, “What did you say?”

“I didn’t say anything.” He sounds a bit ticked now, and you decide to drop it.

“Oh,” You mutter, “must’ve imagined it, then.”

His hand is cold in yours and you squeeze it just a bit, hoping he won’t notice and hoping that you will warm it. When you reach the Medical Wing, you tilt your head and say, “Wait here. I’ll get you dry clothes from the storage.”

But as you turn to leave he doesn’t let go, though doesn’t say anything either. He’s choked up — either he doesn’t know how to say it or doesn’t want to say it at all. He doesn’t want to be alone. Those whispers come again, ringing in your ears so quietly you aren’t sure they’re even there. You give him a soft smile, catching his gaze, “Okay, we can go together. You’ll probably stay here for at least another week, so, it’s best you know where the storage is anyway.” There’s no rush in your words, no annoyance, just simple acceptance. It eases him, relieves him of saying and admitting things he’s not willing to bring to light.

The walk is quiet and you still hold hands. His is much bigger than yours, rough, though not unpleasant. They are hands of a man that uses them often — for better, or for worse — and a twinge in your heart, a sudden thud of uncertainty, informs you that your previous speculations might have not been correct at all. His hand doesn’t feel like that of a prince (not that you would know what that would feel like), no, it feels like a hand of a soldier. But that inching of something amiss is swept away by warmth, silent happiness, a certain deliriousness that starts blooming within you and spreading all around. You feel him, somehow; feel a connection. You can’t put it into words exactly, you doubt you could ever explain it to anyone. It’s fragile. And beautiful. And maddening that such a devout emotion is sprung by something as innocent as holding hands

You wonder if he feels it. You somehow know he does.

The storage room is not big. Your hand slips from his as he chooses to stand by the doorway and you rummage to get his things. You feel braver. Perhaps it’s the tiredness that leaves you so open and bold, but searching you can’t help but ask, “So tell me…” You start, handing him some towels, “What were you actually doing? Besides being melodramatic.” You add, your lips quirking upwards.

He regards you with lively eyes and you see a grin lift his cheeks. He’s smiling, actually smiling, and you know this action is precious and rare and you can’t help but beam at him in return, “You think I was being melodramatic?” He questions.

You laugh a little, a breathless bell-like “Yes” falling from your lips as you fetch him dry clothes from the upper shelf, “All you needed was a cape to swing around.”

His expression abruptly falls and the temperature drops with it.

“Right, no cape.” You mumble, a tad disappointed, handing him his clothes.

As you make your way back, you can’t help but saying, “I just thought it would suit you, is all.”

“What else do you think would suit me?”

You raise a brow, trying to keep up with his drastic shift in moods: again, hes smiling, then he’s pensive, now he seems lighthearted, genuinely curious. “You like to ask a lot of questions.” You conclude.

He shrugs, “I’m just trying to figure out what you think of me.”

“And why are you curious?”

“Now you are the one asking a lot of questions.” He points out. You snort.

“You started it.”

“Did not.”

“Did too!”

This again, followed by quiet chuckles. You don’t turn to the Medical Wing now, instead stopping by the elevator and pressing the red button. The doors slide open. You glance at him.

“So…” You mumble, “This is not how I imagined my night going, but…” You aren’t quite sure how to finish, how to vocalize the strange swirl of emotions in your chest, “Well, goodnight.”

You step into the elevator, going to push the button—“Ben.” He says suddenly, making you flinch and turn to him. He’s not looking at you, instead staring at the floor, “My name. It’s Ben.”

Again, that same energy, that same shock you felt when you first touched his hand ignites your body with something closely akin to happiness. Trust. Bond. He trusts you. The connection you felt was not an exaggeration. He would not have given you his name otherwise.

“Goodnight, Ben.” You say softly, fighting a smile that’s trying to rise on your face, “Sweet dreams.”

“…Goodnight, Seven.”

As the elevator doors shut, you think you hear him say “Thank you”, but that might have just been your imagination.

hope you liked it! xxx

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taegis-gf · 4 years

Text

Forbidden - Part 3

Dealer!yoongi x Reader

Warnings ➜ smut, oral (f receiving), non-protected sex, some light choking, some angst and a little fluffy, yoongi got beat up a little :(

Summary ➜ You never meant to lock eyes with the beautiful stranger at Namjoon’s house party, you also didn’t mean to completely fall for him, knowing exactly how dangerous it was.

Word Count ➜ 6.5K

NB: if drug-taking in fics isn’t for you/or makes you uncomfortable, also reader is literally getting with a drug dealer, so if any of this isn't for you - please don’t read!

Notes ➜ hey. guys hehe i hope u enjoy this im in a little bit of a rut with it as i dont even really know where im taking it yet, thank u for being patient with me and lmk what u think ! also sorry for any spelling errors!!

PART1 | PART2 | PART3

The next few days passed without you hearing a word from Yoongi. You had refrained from texting him, always being too stubborn for your own good, plus he definitely didn’t deserve a text from you, However, from the way he had been ghosting you, you had assumed he probably didn’t even care or notice that you were mad at him.

You had gotten past the sad stage of it all and had now reached anger, what had you been thinking jumping into bed with someone you barely knew?

It hadn’t felt like that at the time though, you had thought you and Yoongi had a connection.

Why did it feel so right when he was with you, why did you two click so well?

And why the hell couldn’t you stop thinking about him?

He was making your life hard, consuming every thought, you had barely got your essay submitted in time and when you did you were pretty sure it didn’t even make any sense, just a spew of words on a document that you wanted out of your sight so you go back to wallowing in self-pity about some boy.

You admittedly had not left your dorm since Jungkook had spoken to you, that was 2 days ago and you really needed to get Yoongi out of your mind instead of lying in your bed and just thinking.

You were driving yourself crazy admittedly, and you knew you were being dramatic, it wasn’t like Yoongi even owed you anything, the two of you were only at the beginning of something that didn’t even have a label yet.

However, you just wanted something even if it was a ‘I never wanna see you again’, at least it would be some sort of closure.

The sound of your phone ringing instantly made you jump, the silence being so harshly interrupted it scared you half to death.

You closed your eyes for a moment before flipping your phone over only to feel major disappointment when you saw it wasn’t Yoongi’s name on your screen.

You answered anyway with a heavy heart.

“Hey Tae, what’s up?” You asked.

“What’s up?! You haven’t responded to me in 3 days, what’s up with you?” He asked, his tone sounded concerned and you could only smile sadly at the compassion your friend seemed to have for you.

“Nothing Tae I’ve just been distracted with work you know?”

You could hear him sighing softly before he spoke again.

“I’m calling to let you know we’re all going over to Joon’s, if you would read the damn groupchat I wouldn’t be calling you.”

You scoffed at the curt tone he used with you but you knew he didn’t mean it in a bad way.

“Joon’s? I’m not really in the mood for a party Tae-“

“It’s not a party,” Taehyung said, cutting you off. “It’ll just be the 7 of us babe. Please come, I miss you.”

“How many time have I told you to stop calling me that?” You asked rolling your eyes at the wall.

“Just say you’ll come? I can even come get you.” Taehyung offered.

You supposed it was better than wallowing in your bed another day.

“Yeah fine okay, I’ll come.” You said.

“Good I’m glad, I’ll come get you in about an hour, get dressed I’ll ring you when I’m outside.”

With a quick 'goodbye' Taehyung hung up and you decided to get up and make yourself look human.

You opted for no makeup and just some simple sweats, you knew you and the guys would probably just be watching a movie so you didn’t see the point in dressing up any more than that, although you couldn’t count how many times a simple hangout had been a ruse to get you to a party.

Taehyung called you again to inform you he was waiting outside, so you quickly grabbed your phone and coat and left your dorm as quick as you could.

When you finally reached outside you saw Taehyung’s car and made a beeline, opening the door and jumping in you plastered a smile on your face hoping it would take away from the prying questions you assumed Taehyung had lined up.

“Hey Tae, thanks for coming to get me, a cab to Joon’s is so fucking expensive and I know I’m super out of the way, so I appreciate it.”

Taehyung scoffed. “Please, you know I would come to get you even if you were 500 miles out of the way, what are friends for?” He stated as he started up the engine.

The drive was silent for the most part, you were surprised as you had expected Taehyung to go into full-blown interrogation mode on why you’d been ignoring everyone, but he didn’t, maybe he was waiting on you coming to him, if that was the case he’d be waiting a long ass time.

As he pulled up and you both went inside your heart warmed at the sight of your friends all talking and laughing with each other, you hadn’t seen them like this in a while and it almost made you tear up.

“Hey guys.” You said as you kicked off your shoes and took a spot on the sofa in between Jungkook and Taehyung as he had decided to follow you and sit wherever you were going.

“Hey Y/N, we all thought you were dead.” Hoseok said as stuffed a handful of chips into his mouth.

Everyone else murmured in agreement with a few sly comments about ignored messages and calls.

You closed your eyes and decided the best thing to do was to state you’d had a lot of work to catch up on and that becoming a recluse was the only way you would get it all finished.

You didn’t miss the way Jungkook side-eyed you but simply chose to not look his way for the sake of saving yourself the judgemental looks about your obvious lying to your best friends.

“Come onnnnnnn. Will someone put on a good horror movie already, and Joon please throw me a beer.” Taehyung called.

Everyone got settled as a movie was picked and the lights were switched off.

That was when your phone decided to vibrate in your pocket.

You slipped it halfway out just trying to glance at the notification and your heart jumped when you saw the name on the screen.

Notification: Yoongi: iMessage(s) 1

You muttered some excuse about needing to pee, and jumped off the sofa to run upstairs, needing to compose yourself before you unlocked your phone.

8:37PM

Yoongi: hey i cant even begin to explain how sorry I am…i understand 100% if you don’t want to speak to me again

You watched as you saw the typing dots disappear and reappear as you stared at your phone. Then another message came through.

Yoongi: i really wanted to call you but i was afraid you’d be too mad and wouldn’t pick up so please if theres even a chance you’ll speak to me again - call me. If u don’t i undertsand and i wont bother you anymore.. i feel so stupid Y/N you don’t deserve this

Your heart was beating at about a million miles per hour as you reread his messages over and over. You had absolutely no idea how to approach this.

You decided now was not the best time to call him, you were just going to have to wait it out and call him when you got back to your dorm.

You decided you’d leave him on read for now, he’d left you waiting for nearly 3 days, he could wait 3 hours for your reply.

As you walked back into the room with your friends you sat beside Taehyung and he let you cuddle up next to him, he began gently playing with your hair as you tried your best to lie down, Jungkook patted his lap as an indication you could spread your legs out and rest them on his own and you smiled as he put an arm over them.

You felt incredibly loved by your friends in that moment, tears threatening to spill as the simple comforts they were providing so naturally to you, meant so much in that moment.

You felt a little guilty at your unwillingness to tell them how upset you were, you trusted them with so much and they trusted you just as equally. But things were confusing for you at the moment and you wouldn’t even know where to start.

You looked up to see Jungkook looking at you with concern, he obviously knew a lot more than the rest of them but he didn’t know just how much Yoongi was affecting you at that particular moment.

You smiled reassuringly at him and he gave your thigh a small squeeze before you both turned back to the movie.

You hadn’t realised just how tired you were until Taehyung was gently shaking you awake, alerting you that the movie was over and even though no one was leaving or anything he offered to bring you home.

You shook your head at his offer telling him you would just get a taxi home and that he should stay and enjoy the rest of the night, he had smiled at you softly asking about 5 times if you were sure and you had laughed excusing yourself to the bathroom before he could argue with you anymore.

You found yourself in the same position, just leaning against the door staring at the messages Yoongi had sent a few hours ago, you felt groggy from the sleep and in your haze you decided that calling him and getting this over with would be the best thing to do, you weren’t thinking clearly, but then again, you never were when it came to him.

As you listened to the ringing tone you began to feel your anxiety building, you weren’t even sure what you were going to say to him or even sure how you felt towards him, yeah sure you were upset but did you even have any right to be mad at him?

It wasn’t like Yoongi was your boyfriend or anything, he didn’t owe you anything.

He picked up on the third ring an anxious and quick “Hello?” sounded from his end, like he was afraid he was going to miss the call.

“Hey…” You said, unsure of where to go with it.

“Jesus Y/N I am sorry, you must think I’m such an asshole. I wa-”

“Do you like me Yoongi?” You cut him off.

“Wh-what?” Yoongi asked, he sounded unsure, like he was afraid he would say the wrong thing.

“Do you like me?” You asked again, slower.

“Yes of course Y/N, I like you a lot.”

“Okay, do you see me as someone you can just fuck and I’ll come running when you call? Because believe me Yoongi you really are talking to the wrong girl if that’s what you think this is.”

You weren’t sure where your bold attitude was coming from, you suppose you’d been holding in a lot of feelings the past few days regarding the situation, but for some reason, it was coming out as anger and with a hint of sass.

“Jesus – no, no Y/N that is so not what I’m thinking this is, you know that right? Fuck I didn’t mean to leave it so long to talk to you, but there was an emergency and I had to leave town to do something and I only got back tonight and I’m sorry, please know I'm sorry.” You could hear the pleading in his voice, the genuine asking for forgiveness.

Your knees felt weak and you weren’t sure why but all you wanted was to see him, to tell him it was all okay and you forgive him.

But a part of you wanted to stand your ground, you didn’t want to seem like a pushover who was going to roll over because he sounded like he was sorry, this was only a phone call, you couldn’t even look him in the eyes or anything.

“Can you pick me up and we can talk?” You asked, you wanted to see him, ask him what exactly was going on.

“Yes of course, you’re not at your dorm?” He asked the question harmlessly but you felt he was a little nervous.

“No actually I’m with the guys at Namjoon’s house, I can send you the address if you can’t remember..”

“I remember Y/N. I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”

And with that he hung up, eager to see him - but still feeling cautious - you left the bathroom to tell the guys you were going to wait outside for your taxi.

They all hugged you goodbye and you definitely noticed how Jungkook lingered for that extra few seconds.

He could sense something was wrong with you, but he knew to wait until you came to him with your problems.

As you stood at Namjoon’s garden gate a pair of headlights began approaching slowly and you knew it was him. He stopped outside and you ran to his car door, trying to avoid any of the guys from seeing that it wasn’t just an ordinary taxi you were going home in.

It smelt like a new car inside and you turned to face the driver, he looked over at you with an awkward smile and that’s when you saw the extremely dark black eye that covered his right eye. You covered your hand with your mouth trying not to audibly gasp.

“Yoongi! Oh my god are you okay?” You reached out, wanting to touch his face but realised that wasn’t the best idea before dropping your hand again.

Your anger at him now replaced with worry, you scanned his face further to see his slightly busted lip as well.

“Y/N, I promise you it’s not as bad as it looks. Can we talk about this when we get to my place?” He asked, placing a hand on your thigh he gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“Your place?” You asked, confused.

“Yeah…only if you want, it’s just that it’s closer to here and I thought you wanted to talk.”

You were nodding, your stomach trying to suppress the nerves that were bubbling up at the idea of going to his place this first time as you also tried to process everything that was already happening.

“Okay, yeah let’s do that.” You said.

Neither of you spoke again the entire ride.

When Yoongi finally pulled up into the carpark of a luxury apartment complex you stared in disbelief. This was where he lived?

He makes a lot of money doing what he does you quickly reminded yourself, suddenly embarrassed at size and quality of your dorm room.

You followed him inside and stopped at the entrance completely in shock at the sheer size and beauty of his apartment.

You shook yourself, you were here for one thing.

“Take a seat please, Y/N.” He said motioning at the large plush sofa.

You took a seat but watched as Yoongi stood examining you.

“Aren’t you gonna sit?” You asked the atmosphere was tense, awkward, you couldn’t even sense Yoongi’s mood, he was just looking at you, expressionless.

You looked back at him, you were starting to feel frustrated.

“So what? We’re just going to sit here in silence, scratch that, you’ll stand, I’ll sit?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi replied.

“What?” You asked, your eyes shooting up to look at him, you knew he had to be in pain with his eye and you felt a twinge of guilt for being annoyed with him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t call or text, I know I left you in your room like that – after we had just…I’m sorry Y/N.” He sighed heavily, finally taking a seat beside you.

“Just tell me what happened, I’m an understanding person Yoongi, but I don’t think I can do this if you’re just going to keep disappearing on me…”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him now he was closer, you decided the floor was the best place to look at in that moment.

“It was an emergency…it’s stupid, rivalry is a very real thing in this business. I got into a fight with some guy when I went down there. One of my friends was seriously threatened by some people and we had to go down there and deal with it.” He explained, you didn’t want the specifics really and you were glad he wasn’t giving it to you.

“Yoongi…you’re like - I mean - do you really think you’re the best guy for that sort of thing?” You were half teasing him, but also very worried, this wasn’t something that happened a lot, was it?

Yoongi scoffed out a small laugh.

“I’m not usually the guy that handles situations Y/N, I just had to go down there to talk it out with some people.”

You shuddered, you hated this, hated that this was his life.

Yoongi gently placed a hand on your thigh and you allowed him to keep it there, finally looking back up at him.

“Jesus Y/N, I’m sorry for leaving you like that, I would never do anything like that to you on purpose…please forgive me?”

You knew he was sorry, you could feel that he was sorry.

You whispered out a soft ‘I forgive you’.

You knew it was weak of you but you seemed to be at your weakest when Yoongi was looking at you like you meant the world to him.

Yoongi let out a sigh of relief, a small smile on his face, but he winced in pain as the smile opened up the wound on his lip.

“Let me get you something for that.” You said, standing.

You could use the distraction more than anything as you asked him where the bathroom was and grabbed a damp cloth and some tissue.

You sat down turning your body to face him you lightly dabbed at the wound and cringed a litte in sympathy when he hissed in pain.

“Hold the tissue to it so it doesn’t bleed again.” you said as you folded it up and handed it to him.

“Do you have any ice? It’ll help your eye..” You asked as you went to get up again.

He simply nodded, and pointed to the freezer, allowing you to worry and take care of him.

You sat back down again with a small makeshift ice pack, and told him to lay down so you could place it over his eye, he protested a little but it didn’t take much to coerce him.

“I’m seriously not even in that bad of shape Y/N, you should see the other guy.” He said, laughing a little but then immediately stopping as the pain in his lip stung.

You rolled your eyes at him, knowing he was joking but it did make your stomach twist with nerves at the same time, what if this had been a lot more serious?

When you didn’t speak he reached over for the remote to turn the T.V on, you supposed he couldn’t handle the tense silence you were giving in return for his bad joke.

As he searched about Netflix he spoke again “I have to say, I do think you’d make a pretty sexy nurse.” He joked again and this time you cracked a smile, unable to stop yourself from scoffing out a laugh.

“Are you seriously flirting with me right now?” You asked, sitting back down on his couch you lifted his legs to allow them to rest on your lap, a simple gesture to show him you didn’t completely hate him.

He laughed a little, a genuine laugh and you found yourself laughing too.

“Put a movie on, keep the ice on your eye and shut up!” You said through laughter.

You did end up watching a movie, the night got more and more comfortable as Yoongi decided to order takeout and bring out blankets to the couch.

As you both cuddled up to each other your hand absent-mindedly playing with his as you watched the movie, it was an incredibly intimate thing to do but it felt so natural you could barely keep the smile off your face.

As the movie was coming to an end you began yawning announcing it was getting late and you should get back to your dorm, but as you made a move Yoongi’s brought his arm around your waist tightly a small ‘don’t go’ escaping from his lips.

You sighed, you wanted to stay over if you were being honest but was it really the best idea?

“I don’t know Yoongi….I don’t even have a change of clothes or anything.”

Yoongi pulled you him closer to him and you let yourself relax into his touch.

“I’ll lend you something to sleep in. Please Y/N. I’ve missed you.”

And with those 3 word’s he didn’t even need to say anymore.

You let out a sigh of content. “Yes Yoongi I’ll stay.”

He got up, asking you to follow him to his room.

You obliged, following after him to the nearest door. He opened it up and motioned for you to wait on his bed while he found you something comfortable.

You looked around at the unfamiliar room, the first thing you noticed was how clean it was, that was unusual for a guy his age it was simple, his sheets white and his room plain you looked around in awe.

You weren’t sure what you had been expecting if you were being honest, but as you were about to comment he was suddenly standing in front of you, a black tee and a pair of basketball shorts in hand.

You smiled up at him “Thank you Yoongi.”

“That door there is the bathroom.” he said pointing to an ensuite inside his own room.

You nodded going in and when you shut the door behind you you let out a long sigh.

You were really going to stay here tonight.

As you got changed you realised the t-shirt he had given you was long enough to ignore the shorts he had given you.

Folding your own clothes and leaving them on top of his wash basket you grabbed your phone for a quick glance before you returned to him.

A notification from Jungkook.

11:12PM

JK: I hope you’re okay you seemed a little off tonight, please remember you can talk to me about anything.

You smiled, feeling your heart swell at the loving message you typed a quick reply with a thank you and lots of heart emojis.

As you left the bathroom you saw Yoongi awkwardly standing like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself.

He looked up at you and you saw him eyeing your body, his eyes travelling up your bare legs, you felt the heat of his gaze taking you all in and you couldn’t help but revel in the feeling that you had that effect on him.

“I’ll – um – take the couch, you sleep here.” You could tell he was distracted over your lack of clothes but he cleared his throat and began to leave.

“Yoongi.” You called and stopped him in his tracks.

“Thank you for being such a gentleman.” You giggled.

You heard him scoff a laugh before walking out of the room, some sort of pyjamas in hand.

So here you were, left alone in Min Yoongi’s bedroom.

You werent exactly sure what you should be doing, should you just go to sleep?

As if it were that easy…

You felt giddy as you got under the covers, his bed was huge compared to your single in your dorm.

You tried to relax and calm a little remembering you were technically meant to be trying to sleep, you reached over to turn off the bedside lamp, shrouding yourself in darkness.

You decided to scroll through your phone for a while trying to think about other things and definitely not how badly you wanted to go out there and ask Yoongi to come back.

Your intentions weren’t even of a sexual nature, you simply just wanted him to lay with you, you wanted to fall asleep in his arms – something you hadn’t got the chance to do yet.

After about 20 minutes of tossing and turning and checking every social media platform you decided to take a deep breath and just go ask him, you were nervous that he wouldn’t even want to but then again he was letting you stay in his room after all.

You slowly tiptoed across the floor, afraid in case he was already sleeping you quietly opened the door.

You realised you couldn’t even tell with as you could only see the back of the couch and not his form, you decided to half shout half whisper, praying he was awake anyway.

“Yoongi!”

He head came into view as he sat up from the couch, looking wide awake and a little confused.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, a look of concern crossing his features.

“Yeah…” You realised just how shy and nervous you actually felt as you continued speaking.

“Will you come sleep beside me Yoongi please?”

You saw a small smile appear on his face, “Of course, I’m super glad you asked, I wanted to ask but I thought you would see it as creepy or something.”

You rolled your eyes smacking him on the shoulder as he got closer.

“Your whole dick has been inside me but you think cuddling is as the creepy thing to offer?!” You asked, eyes widening in shock a little.

Yoongi held his hands up in defence as he followed you to the bed both of you climbing in on either sides.

“I don’t know…” He trailed off looking at you as you now lay beside one another.

“I guess I thought you were still mad at me.”

You sighed a little and looked at him scanning his face and frowned a little at the black eye that adorned his beautiful features.

“I hate that someone hurt you Yoongi.” You said, you hadn’t really meant to say it aloud.

Both your faces were close looking at each other in comfortable silence, a small pout forming on his lips at your statement he leaned in and gave you the smallest of pecks, it was so sweet and tender you felt like you heart was going to beat out of your chest as heat formed across your cheeks.

“Let’s go to sleep Y/N.”

You nodded, leaning in a little closer to him and shutting your eyes after whispering a soft ‘goodnight’.

You woke up feeling too hot, far too hot. As you took in your surroundings and remembered where you were you smiled at the reason for your warmth, realising Yoongi had pulled you in and draped his arm over your waist in the middle of the night. You felt comfortable in his arms, having one of the best sleeps you’ve had in a long time, your worries felt at ease for once and you just simply felt in the moment with him.

You slowly shifted until you were turned to face him, he pouted a little in his sleep at the disruption and you couldn’t help but smile harder, placing a soft kiss on his pout you watched as his eyes fluttered open slowly, confusion on his face as he tried to take in what sensation had just woken him up.

He smiled when he saw you looking at him, stretching his limbs and letting out a long yawn.

“Did you sleep well?” You asked.

“Mmmm yes I did, I really like waking up next to you…” He said, his handing tracing absent-minded patterns on your arm.

“Me too…” You trailed off feeling a little sad that this wasn’t going to be a permanent thing.

“Your eye looks a little better, I think it’s starting to heal.” You said reaching out to touch his face gently.

“Hm you don’t think it’s sexy? Like in a 'wow I’m a big sexy bad boy' way?.”

You couldn’t roll your eyes hard enough turning away from him only to have him whine and pull you back to face him.

“Yeah that whine sounds so bad boy.” You said giggling as he pulled you closer and began kissing your neck.

“Hmmmm, you smell amazing.” He said nuzzling further into your neck with a groan.

You felt yourself begin to grow a little hot at the noise, his lips leaving a hot trail down to your collarbone.

You let out a pleased noise.

“Hmm you like that baby?” He asked beginning to move his body so he was hovering over yours, his mouth kissing lower.

You let out a noise of approval feeling too hot and worked up to speak.

His hands found your hips and he slowly pushed up the t-shirt you were wearing his hands gliding along your warm skin.

As he pushed it up further you helped him, pulling it off you completely leaving you in only your underwear.

Yoongi let out a groan at the picture of your almost naked body in front of him resting his forehead on your stomach trying to compose himself for a moment as the mere sight of you was making him go a little crazy.

You let out a whine “Yoongi do something. Please.”

He looked back up at you a smirk on his face, “Now who’s whining babe?”

You let out a scoff quickly followed by a sharp gasp as his mouth latched onto your nipple.

His tongue teasing and sucking you could feel the wetness pooling at your core.

You wanted to squeal a little, the frustration of how teasingly slow he was going was making you feel crazy.

As he took his time, making sure to kiss every inch of your body by the time he got close to where you needed him most you were a writhing mess.

“Yoongi please.” You gasped out when he kissed the inside of your thigh, merely a few centimetres away from you soaked panties.

“Tell me what you want baby. I’ll give it to you.” He said planting another soft kiss even closer this time.

You suddenly felt a little embarrassed, you don't think you’d ever begged to get your pussy ate before.

“I want…your tongue on me, fuck please.” You breathed out, hardly able to think straight.

Yoongi put his hands to the hem of your panties silently asking you to raise your hips and you did allowing him to pull them off.

You let out a yelp when Yoongi pushed your thighs further apart so he had a full view of your leaking core.

You let out a low whine of embarrassment trying to close your thighs a little but Yoongi had a strong grip.

“Sorry I’m staring, your pussy is beautiful though…”

You immediately brought your hand up to your face not believing the words coming out of his mouth.

“Yoongi shut up!” You said from behind your hands.

Yoongi laughed a little bringing his head down, you nearly moaned at the feeling of his breath on your core.

“Please.” Was all you whispered out, so beyond desperate for some sort of relief you were clenching around nothing.

Yoongi’s tongue slowly licked up until he started slowly licking at your clit, giving it all his attention.

You moaned, absolutely in bliss at the feeling, but you needed something more.

“Yoongi your fingers please…”

His cock twitched at that, hardening further at your words, did you know what you were doing to him?

He happily obliged, slowly slipping a finger inside you, pumping in and out before adding a second, stretching you out further.

As he kept up his assault on your clit, you didn’t think you’d ever felt an orgasm approach you this fast before, the familiar pressure building in record time.

“Yoongi oh my god – I think – I think I’m gonna come, please don’t stop, please.”

As he listened, knowing you were close he picked up the pace, pumping his fingers faster and sucking on your clit a little bit harsher.

“Fuck!” You half yelled along with a moan, turning your head to the side and closing your eyes as you let your orgasm wash over you, your whole body felt heavy as you came down, the whole time Yoongi’s tongue never left you slowly working you through it.

“Yoongi.” You said, breathing heavily. “Get back up here.”

You turned back as he slowly moved back up so his face was facing yours again a smile on his face.

You placed your hands on either side of his face, feeling like your heart could burst at the sight of the man in front of you, pulling his face to yours so you could kiss him rather than say something stupid.

Yoongi groaned a little as his hard-on brushed against you, he must’ve been in need of some serious relief.

You felt an immediate pulse of fresh pleasure at the thought of him getting hard at the action of eating you out.

“Yoongi…want…you to fuck me.” You said between short kisses.

Yoongi smirked at you.

“Really?” He asked feigning innocence and you honestly could’ve rolled your eyes at his teasing if you weren’t so turned on.

“Yes baby please, want you to fuck me so hard Yoongi and I know your big dick will fill me right up.” You said trying to sound as seductive as possible, you could play this game if he wanted too.

Yoongi just stared for a second as his brain buffered not believing the filth coming from you.

“Fuck.” Was all he said as he began kissing your neck again and this time you felt him fishing his cock out of his underwear.

Lining up at your entrance, he stopped just short of pushing in.

“Tell me how bad you want it baby and I’ll give it to you.”

Fuck he was going to be the death of you.

“Yoongi please, I need you so bad, need you to fill me up…”

And with that, he plunged into you bottoming out immediately.

You gasped at the pressure, your head falling back and your eyes almost rolling into the back of your head.

“Jesus fuck!” You yelled as he continued thrusting at such a relentless pace he had to grab you by the hips to stop your body from moving farther up the bed.

“Tell me what you want baby… harder, faster?” He asked, his breathing laboured as he tried to keep his pace up.

“Fuck yes oh my god I’ll come so fast like this.” You said your voice practically vibrating with how hard he was fucking you.

“Yeah?” He said his hand moving further up your body he stopped just short of your throat eyeing you up.

You had a feeling he was little too nervous to ask what he wanted but you knew just what was on his mind and you loved the idea.

“Yoongi choke me.” You gasped out.

“Please choke me a little, please? It’ll feel so good.”

Yoongi’s hip stuttered a little at your words his eyes widening in shock, he nearly came right there breathing deep, trying to compose himself.

“Yeah? Are you sure?” He asked.

You nodded like a crazy woman. “Yes.” You breathed out, not finding any more energy to speak, you could feel your orgasm coming.

His hand slowly snaked up your body until it was resting at your neck he slowly wrapped his fingers around it, applying light pressure.

“Baby... you need to tell me if it’s too much okay?”

You nodded at him again.

His fingers squeezed a little harder as he began fucking in you again as lightning speed.

You closed your eyes letting him choke and fuck you however he wanted, you were in a state of bliss as the familiar knot in your stomach was so close to snapping.

He didn’t choke you too hard always alternating between some pressured squeezes and releasing again.

“Feels so good.” You said when he eased up his pressure for a while.

“You wouldn’t believe how fucking hot you look like this baby…all spread out for me you’re so dirty baby, tell me... do the guys know what a little slut you are?”

Fuck.

You shook your head no.

“God if they could see you like this I think they would never recover.”

You weren’t sure where it came from but for a moment you pictured your 6 best friends watching you, and it sent you right over the edge.

“Yoongi I’m coming fuck, I’m coming!” You said as one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had tore its way through you.

Your core spasmed uncontrollably as you moaned, bringing Yoongi over the edge with you.

“Jesus christ.” He breathed out as he gathered up some strength to pull out of you and roll over to your side.

You laughed out loud as you turned to face him, unable to think straight you said the first thing that came to mind.

“That black eye still makes you look like a dumbass.”

It was Yoongi’s turn to laugh as you both tried to get your breathing under control.

“Come on, let’s get in the shower.”

You and Yoongi spent the rest of the day lazing around in his bed kissing and laughing, you had even given him a quick blowjob when you’d both gotten a little too handsy once again.

You didn’t think you could feel this way with someone but the absolute ease and comfort you felt being with him was indescribable.

As you both lay in his bed watching Netflix – although there wasn’t much watching – you heard the front door knock.

“Babe it must be the pizza, go open the door while I grab cash so he doesn’t leave.”

“I'm indecent!” You whined only wearing one of Yoongi’s shirts.

“Go give him a show!” He said winking at you as he went in search of his wallet.

You rolled you eyes getting up anyway not risking the delivery person getting fed up and actually leaving.

As you got to the door you made sure the t-shirt was pulled as far down as it would go.

You opened the door and swung it open “Hi can you wait –“

You froze.

“Y/N?”

Your eyes widened in shock.

You were standing face to face with none other than Jin.

#yoongi x reader #bts smut #yoongi smut #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #mine

128 notes · View notes

studiobeebo · 4 years

Note

Hey Bee, super excited to see you writing again even if just for a bit! Might I be so bold as to ask for Hawks making breakfast in bed for reader? 🍳 I'd love some snuggly domestic fluff. Also, are people submitting pets? I'm not sure why or if it's a thing, but incoming pictures of my little bastard fur baby.

HHHHHHH VIX I HOPE THIS IS BETTER LATE THAN NEVER TY FOR REQUESTING MY FAV CHICKEN ITS BEEN A WHILE SINCE IVE BEEN INSPIRED TO WRITE FOR HIM ALSO THANK U FOR SHOWING ME UR BASTARD

Hawks / Keigo Takami

Legally, even heroes amongst the top ranks were required to have days off. An unstable hero is an ineffective hero, after all. For a long time, however, days off were just that for Keigo: a necessary component to be the hero he was trained to be. It took him a while to see days off as most people saw it, a time to relax, even if those days off were usually interrupted in one way or another. Still, that never stopped him from dreaming of a world where he could have genuine free time to fill with whatever random shit he could think of, but for now he was making do with ‘enjoying the little things’, something that you had drilled into his brain when the two of you first started talking, and since then he’d had plenty of time to realize that you were one of his favorite ‘little things’ to enjoy.

He didn’t get to spend a whole lot of time with you, but over time you became one of the main factors in why he wanted to be done with the difficulty of hero work. He liked being with you, as cheesy as it sounded, and he found himself always hoping he’d have a little extra time in his day to swing by your place so the two of you could talk over lame late night sitcoms and some terribly unhealthy food.

The two of you never outright called your little get togethers ‘dates’ and you never even dared get into the conversation of finally calling it how it is and saying you were together, but compared to just about everything else in his life, the issue there wasn’t actually his job, it was just how the two of you were. Despite how cheeky and suave he liked to act, he could never really figure out the right way to go about this sort of thing. He mulled over the idea of just flat out asking or mentioned the two of you dating, he never had problems keeping other things to himself anyways so it sounded like the most natural way to go, but he could never bring himself to just say something. It never felt like the right time and to be fair, you could always be the one to say something too but you found yourself in the same dilemma. It seemed like the two of you were in a constant cycle of ‘Eh, I’ll just bring it up next time’, always assuming but never really realizing how much the other wanted to make things a bit more official.

So that’s how things went and have been going, the two of you dancing around the idea of just sharing your feelings and growing closer in the process. Even with work becoming more overbearing than ever, he still always managed to get lost in the way you made him feel the moment the two of you were together. You, on the other hand, spent your time excitedly wondering when he’d come by next, even going as far as to try and spend more evenings at home instead of out with friends just to heighten the chance of hanging out with him. Needless to say, you knew you were head over heels for that winged idiot and after weeks of consideration you finally decided on saving your confession for a few days before the upcoming White Day.

The idea was that, if he returned your feelings like you hoped he would, you’d then be able to get him a gift a few days later. Cliche maybe, but you figured that would make for an extra special anniversary if things ever happened to get that far. Plus, even if he rejected you, you figured at least that wouldn’t ruin the holiday for either of you.

Unlike you, Keigo really wasn’t that inept at the whole ‘think before you act’ thing in regards to relationships.

He wasn’t an idiot (well, not in this regard) and he knew he had insane hots for you at this point and since his idea of just casually dropping that he wanted to be with you wasn’t coming to fruition, he figured he’d try to do something a little more structured and came up with what he thought was a fantastic idea.

Valentine’s Day was romantic, right? So what better day to confess his feelings? He didn’t bother worrying about the whole ‘what if you say no’ thing and instead started thinking about what he could do to make it less lame than ‘hey we should go out for real’. He started paying more mind to couples he’d see out and about while patrolling and even would watch any of the seasonal abundance of romance movies that he’d pass by while scrolling through television channels when he had the time, but everything he saw seemed a bit too romantic and totally not his style. He wanted to do something sweet but a bit more laid back and with no other thoughts in mind, after some time he finally settled on the classic act of breakfast in bed.

Of course in his plans he sort of omitted a few things that tend to make ‘breakfast in bed’ a special thing, the first being that, well..he didn’t know how to go about cooking breakfast. Growing up his diet was extremely regulated and he was rarely allowed to cook for himself, so the only things that were his choice were snack foods or pre made meals he’d grab from a 7/11. Sure he was a few years out of the constant regulations and overbearing ‘caretakers’, but he was out of the frying pan and into the fire in a way so he never had a lot of chances to improve his skills past a basic enough level of cooking to keep himself alive.

With that in mind, his plan was to pick something nice up for you and maybe if he was feeling it he’d get some flowers or something as well before finally stopping by and sneaking in with the extra key you had given him to surprise you. You’d probably call him a loser for waking up so early, ask him what the hell he did this for, and his answer would be that somehow he managed to fall for you. It was easy as pie in his mind and he was actually pretty chipper in the days leading up to Valentine’s Day, but things never quite go as planned for him, do they?

For starters he was out much later than he had planned the night before which pissed him off because every little issue that popped up felt so insignificant and not worth the price of pushing back his plans. He wasn’t some narcissistic asshole, but when he’s out until three in the morning dealing with little mishaps that cops should have been able to handle, he tends to get a bit irritated despite not showing it. Still, by the time he got home he barely had a few hours to rest before he had to get his plan into motion of picking up things and making his way to you. He wasn’t even planning on closing his eyes when he sat down for a ‘minute’ and when he woke up an hour or so to a call for aid from his agency he barely had time to worry about what was ahead. Even then by the time he was done as the sun began to rise, not only was he behind in general but the call took him a good distance away from where you were so it would take at least an hour to fly there and even more to get what he needed so instead, in his exhausted state he ended up saying ‘fuck it’ and dropping his ass into a family mart, picking up a bagful of breakfast pastries and coffee, and then rushing over to your place where he was finally able to give his wings some damn rest.

He was relieved enough to have made it a little after the time you mentioned you usually woke up around and being as jittery as he was he didn’t give a second thought to unlocking your door and practically slamming it open in the process before cursing to himself for being so damn loud when this was supposed to be a surprise, but with all his clattering around he spilled still very hot coffee all over himself and proceeded to practically throw the bag of goods in surprise as he cussed himself out some more.

Of course meanwhile all that was happening on your end was being woken up by your front door being slammed open followed by noise and cursing. You immediately tensed as you snuck your way closer to the intrusion, a small knife in hand in the event your quirk was rendered useless. As your heart raced in your chest you rounded the corner before bracing yourself, only for your eyes to widen at the sight of the absolute idiot you had fallen in love with whisper-yelling at himself surrounded by a now spilled puddle of coffee and various packaged breakfast pastries.

“Keigo?!” You practically screamed, rushing over him to see what the hell he was doing, but when he looked up at you as if he should be surprised you couldn’t help but sigh and cross your arms.

“A knife?? Jesus, (Y/N) the hells’ a matter with you.” He said with a smile, only half preparing himself for the huff of annoyance and smack to the side of his head.

“What’s the matter with me?! What the hell are you doing breaking into my apartment and making a fool of yourself???”

That made him groan and run a hand through his hair as he looked around to realize exactly what you meant about him looking ridiculous.

“Well you gave me a key so I wasn’t really ‘breaking in’, right?” He questioned, raising a brow as he moved to grab a kitchen towel to attempt to blot his clothes dry, but when he saw the look on your face that screamed you were tired and cranky and not having his jokes, he finally let out a sigh before leaning his back up against your kitchen counter.

“Was trying to do the whole ‘breakfast in bed’ thing, figured it would be best to make myself look good to confess or whatever you want to call it, with it being Valentine’s Day and all.”

He immediately tensed as his brain caught up with what he had just said before slouching his shoulders upon realizing that in the end, he ended up going with his original plan of just blurting it out like an idiot.

You scoffed, bending over to begin to pick up what he had dropped before stopping in your tracks as you heard the rest of his sentence. Now your heart was beginning to beat faster for a different reason as your brain replayed what he had just said as you picked up one of the pastries off the ground. After a moment of calming yourself so you wouldn’t embarrassingly bust your own feelings open like you had planned to do in the upcoming month, you stood up and smiled, holding up a one of the things you had picked up.

“You tried to make yourself look good with store bought pastries and crappy convenience store coffee?” You teased, making your way over to him and stopping so you were face to face with him and that ridiculously annoying and attractive smirk of his.

“What can I say, if you don’t love me at my worst you probably won’t love me at my best.”

“What would you have done if I didn’t love you at all?”

“Pfft,” He huffed, “When you go sayin’ things like that it makes it sound like you do love me.”

A moment later his face dropped and he let out a quiet ‘Oh’ as you gave him a look that said ‘Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m trying to say’. All this time not worrying about whether or not you actually liked him back and him thinking that surely you did since the two of you had gotten so close, and yet when you put it so clearly like that it made his stomach do ecstatic flips not knowing that you were just as thrilled as he was.

“That’s cool.” Was all he could manage to say, figuring he would save at least some of his pride by not going into a love stricken rant about just how much he had come to love you.

“Just cool?” You asked, biting at your cheek in an attempt to keep your smile at bay but failing miserably at keeping your happiness on the inside, your hands itching to do something you had only previously dreamed of as you reached up to rest your hands on his shoulders before actually wrapping them around his neck as he leaned into your touch which effectively bolstered your confidence and lowered any inhibitions you had.

“Maybe a bit more than ‘just cool’. At least extra cool, maybe even insanely cool if we really want to push it. But h-“ His words were pleasantly cut off by your lips pressing against his own, a little desperate and very much eager after waiting so long to feel his lips pressed against your own. He was supposed to be the cool and suave ‘Hawks’, the nation’s number two hero, but just like that he was melting against your touch as his hands gripped your waist, gently at first but giving a desperate tug as you finally pulled away from him and he tried to lean in for more, the only thing stopping him being the fact that he just had to savor the look of happiness on your face that he was sure matched his own as you bit your lip out of slight embarrassment as the wave of ‘I cannot believe I just did that’ finally hit, though to him that look along with the fact that he now knew you really liked him back only made you that much more attractive.

“Sorry..” You muttered, a smile still on your face as you couldn’t help but chuckle at seeing him flustered and looking so naturally himself, the self that you had learned to love maybe a bit too much. “I’ve been kinda wanting to do that for a while.”

If he wasn’t already relieved before, hearing you confirm that you’ve been aching to be his as much as he was yearning to be yours made his heart soar with adoration and a liiittle bit of an ego boost that he probably didn’t need.

“Was it cool? Even without breakfast or the bed?” He questioned, still trying to keep things casual in a way, but with you, even being in a position he never thought he’d actually be in, it was easy to act naturally since he so naturally loved you.

“Oh yeah.” You laughed, pulling him closely into a tight hug that fit the two of you together so perfectly that it made it feel like you should have done this ages ago. “Perfectly,-“ You pulled back, giving him a peck on the lips that felt so right it made you giddy, “Extra-“, another kiss, this time with him returning the favor while trying hard not to let his own excitement take him too far as he relished in the fact that this was real and you were his and if he could help it, there’d be nothing in the world to change that “- and insanely cool.”

#my hero academia #mha #my hero academia fanfiction #bnha #boku no hero academia #hawks #hawks x reader #keigo takami #keigo takami x reader #takami keigo #takami keigo x reader #bees hcs

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ificanthaveu · 4 years

Text

Hot Chocolate and Other Things That Taste Like Peppermint || Shawn Mendes

Description: It’s finals week, and you’re ready to head home for the holidays to see someone you haven’t seen in months. Shawn will do anything to not let that happen.

Description per my notes (aka a jumbled mess): it’s semester break and I have to tell u how I feel before you go back and see that high school friend you’ll inevitably hook up with

A/N: HAPPY DAY 1 OF FICMAS! I forgot it was day one and didn’t edit this pice until right before I posted it oops. But she cute and she here so ENJOY

Word Count: 3k

12 Days of Ficmas

The incessant pounding on your door made the bells hung on it jingle like crazy. You sighed and finished typing your paragraph. Whoever was there could wait. You took a sip of the peppermint hot chocolate you had treated yourself to and went to answer the door, mug still in hand, hair a mess, still in pajamas, with your glasses pushed down your nose. Happy finals week.

The knocking began again, and you swung the door open, making the bells slam against the wall.

“What?” You said with a little too much anger.

“Where is your Christmas spirit?” Shawn said as he gave you a look.

“It’s on hold until finals week is done, and I’m on my way home for a whole, beautiful, month,” you said, taking another sip and a deep breath.

He glanced down at your mug and then back up to you.

“Peppermint?” He questioned.

You rolled your eyes and nodded your head, “I’m not a complete Scrooge.”

You left the door open and walked back into your room, sitting at your desk and setting the mug down. Shawn found his place on your futon next to you, playing with the lights dangling off your desk.

“What do you want?” You asked, giving him a look.

He stopped playing with the lights and looked back at you before saying, “I need you to proofread my Sociology paper.”

“No,” you said simply.

“Please, [Y/N], I will owe you for the rest of my life, but you know I get, like, a whole letter grade up when you proofread them. I can’t afford to get a bad grade on this,” he begged.

“Shawn, I have my own paper to finish, two in-class exams to study for and a presentation to prep for, which we both know never goes well,” you said as you pulled your feet up onto your chair.

“I’ll help you with your presentation!” He said a little too loudly. “I’m great at public speaking, so you can practice on me, and I’ll give you advice.”

You stared at him as you thought this out. You really did need his help with this presentation. And it probably wouldn’t take any longer than a half-hour to proofread his paper.

“Fine,” you sighed. “I’ll proofread it tonight, but you can’t go doing something else while I’m doing it. You’re sitting with me, and we’re going through it together.”

“You’re literally a lifesaver. Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he repeated.

“Now, no offense, but I have to finish my own paper. So, get the fuck out,” you said as you turned back towards your computer.

You heard him sigh and stand up from his spot before patting you on the shoulder.

“Does 7:00 work?” He asked while looking over your shoulder at what you were writing.

“Yep,” you said, unflinching.

“Well, I guess I’ll just walk myself out,” he said dramatically.

“It’s a dorm room. It’s ten feet,” you said.

“Ouch,” was the last thing you heard before he shut the door behind him.

You glanced at the clock and leaned back in your chair. It was 4:00, which meant you had three hours to finish the last few pages of your paper, proofread it, and eat dinner. Looked like you’d be ordering in.

It was 6:55 when you were finishing up your last slice of pizza and proofreading the hard copy of your paper in front of you, marking things in red pen to fix on your laptop later. You made a few final corrections on the last page before reaching for your computer to fix the mistakes. A knock on your door interrupted you.

“It’s unlocked,” you yelled as you tried to correct your mistakes quickly.

Shawn came walking in with his backpack and sat down next to you on the futon, pulling his legs up into a pretzel and pulling out his laptop.

“I just have a few more corrections, and then I’ll help you. You can have some pizza,” you said through a mouthful.

Shawn shrugged and grabbed a slice, watching you as you did your corrections. You sighed as you corrected one final thing and submitted your paper. You slammed your laptop shut and set it next to you.

“I am one fourth done with finals week,” you said with a smile as Shawn handed you his laptop.

“Ok, cool, now read my paper,” he said, still eating the pizza.

“You didn’t just print it out?” You asked as you glanced at him.

“Why would I do that?” He questioned.

“It’s easier to see mistakes on paper,” you said like he was just supposed to know that.

“It’s a waste of paper,” he rebutted.

“Fine,” you gave in as you started to read his paper. “Shawn, I’m one sentence in, and it’s already a run-on.”

“No, it’s not. There’s a comma,” he said as he pointed at the spot you were talking about.

“Semicolon or comma and a fanboy,” you reminded him.

“A what?” He asked.

“FANBOY - for, and, nor, but, or, yet,” he rattled off as you continued to skim through his first paragraph.

“Huh,” he said as he took his laptop and replaced his comma with a semicolon. “This is why I need you,” he said as he gave you that smile that made your heart flutter.

“Also, your thesis is weak as fuck,” you whispered.

Shawn slammed his head back against your futon and closed his eyes.

“My whole paper is based on that thesis,” he whispered, barely audible. “That’s the point of the thesis.”

“And that’s fine. You just need to tighten it up. It’s way too broad. Just pick specific points that you talk about in your paragraphs and replace the vagueness,” you lectured.

“Alright,” he mumbled before working on fixing his thesis. You took this as your moment to check your phone for the first time in hours.

You had too many facebook notifications and a few snapchats along with a lot of emails. You kept scrolling until a text caught your eyes.

“Shut the fuck up,” he said under your breath as you opened it and stood up.

“What’s up?” Shawn said while glancing up at you and then back down at his computer.

“Hayden texted me,” you said as you gestured to your phone.

“And he is?” Shawn asked as he kept looking at his paper.

“We kind of had a thing in high school? I don’t know how to describe it, I guess. We just flirted a lot and made out every once in a while, but we haven’t talked in months,” you explained as you kept staring at his text.

“What’d he say?”

“When do you come home? I have to see you!” You read out loud.

“Is that his way of asking you on a date?” Shawn scoffed. By then, he had his laptop set to the side, fully invested in what was going on with you and this guy he’d never heard of.

“Probably not…” you said quietly as you trailed off. “It’s just been a while. He wants to catch up.”

“Why now? Why not over Thanksgiving break?” Shawn pointed out.

You shrugged your shoulders and sat back down.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled. “I guess it’s a little weird.”

“I know why,” Shawn said confidently without elaborating.

“And?”

“Well, first, who wouldn’t want to see you? But that’s not the point. Second, you posted that picture last week on Instagram. The one of you and me at my formal,” he explained.

“I forgot about that,” you mumbled, trying not to think too deep into the first part of his statement.

“And third, who doesn’t want a hometown friend to hook up with over Christmas break when your regular college hookups are back at their own homes?” Shawn said.

“Well, you’ve got a point,” you said.

“So are you going to?” Shawn asked hesitantly.

“See him or hook up with him?” You asked.

“Both.”

“I’m going to see him, and I guess I’ll see where things go,” you said with a glint of hope in your voice.

Shawn didn’t say anything, as he handed his laptop back to you.

“Is that better?” He asked.

You skimmed over his new thesis and nodded your head. “Perfect. Much better.”

Hayden was long forgotten as you dove back into Shawn’s paper.

Shawn didn’t forget.

It’s all he thought about for the next week. He tried his hardest to focus on the finals he needed to study for, but he couldn’t go more than fifteen minutes before his mind wandered off to you and whoever Hayden was.

His curiosity got the best of him, and he searched for his Instagram. It was exactly what he expected it to be. Typical frat boy, obnoxious, “I peaked in high school,” energy. He had no idea what you saw in him.

“Who’s that?” Brian said and Shawn nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me,” Shawn said as he locked his phone and tossed it aside.

“Who was it?” Brian repeated as he motioned to Shawn’s phone.

“No one,” Shawn said quietly.

“Bull shit.”

“Alright, it’s [Y/N]’s hometown friend who wants to ‘see her’ over break,” he explained, putting up quotes.

“What’s the problem with that?” Brian said as he sat down and gave Shawn the look he was dreading.

“He’s disgusting. That’s the problem. [Y/N] deserves better,” he said sternly.

“Why don’t you just tell her?” Brian asked.

“Tell her what?” Shawn replied, playing clueless.

“That you’ve been in love with her since the moment you met her,” Brian stated.

Shawn sighed and rested his head in his hands.

“I was hoping that would just come out naturally, or she’d figure it out on her own. I can’t just walk up to her and go, ‘hey, it’d be cool if you loved me like I love you,’ but it doesn’t happen that way,” Shawn rambled.

“You either tell her and it goes well, you don’t tell her and she hooks up with that dick or you tell her, and it doesn’t go well and she hooks up with him,” Brian said with a shrug.

“That last option is the most terrifying thing I’ve ever heard,” Shawn said slowly.

“But it’s highly unlikely. I’ve seen you two together. You took her to formal. You almost kissed her at formal, but that’s a whole other thing,” Brian said and gave him a look.

“I’m meeting her in her room tonight to help her with her presentation,” Shawn said as he glanced at the clock and stood up. “Actually, I have to get going.”

“Is this the last time you’re seeing her before you go home?” Brian asked as Shawn shoved his things in his backpack.

“Yeah, it is,” he paused. “She has her presentation first thing in the morning, and she leaves right after it. I’m still in my final when she leaves.”

“Then you better make your decision quickly,” Brian asked as he pulled out his laptop to study for his upcoming exam.

“Thanks for the advice,” Shawn mumbled.

“Anytime.”

Shawn stopped at the cafe on the way to your dorm building, grabbing you a peppermint hot chocolate and himself a coffee. He attempted to pull his hat down onto his ears to protect them from the wind, but it was no use.

He kicked your door with his foot a few times since his hands were full. You swung the door open, and he handed you your drink without saying a word.

“Peppermint hot chocolate?” You asked, taking a sip of it.

“Of course,” he said with a smile. “I would’ve gotten you the peppermint mocha, but if you have caffeine now, there’s no way you’ll sleep for your presentation.”

“I’m already not going to sleep, so what’s the point?” you said as you plopped down on your futon, setting the cup on your desk next to you. Shawn sat down next to you, admiring the way the multicolor Christmas lights lit up your face, even if you were frowning.

“You know you’re going to do great. You’ve just gotta practice with me a little bit, and then you’ll be fine,” he said as you faced him.

“Let’s get this done with,” you mumbled as you stood up and grabbed your tablet. You pulled your presentation up on your TV and took a deep breath before starting, trying not to look down at your notes too often.

Shawn barely even looked at your presentation, mostly watching how you talked about it. Since it was a public speaking class, you got to choose whatever topic you wanted. You chose to talk about the service work you had done with disabled kids that past summer.

You finished the presentation and waited for Shawn to say something. He finally snapped out of his daze and clapped his hands a few times.

“That was actually really good,” he said with surprise in his voice.

“Why do you sound so shocked?” You said, slightly offended.

“Well, you stress out for these things, when you actually know what you’re talking about. It’s obvious you’re really passionate about it, and you only glanced down at your notes a few times to say the statistics, which is good. My only note is to slow down. You’re talking a little too fast,” Shawn explained.

“I talk fast when I get nervous,” you reminded him.

“Well then fix it,” he replied.

“It’s not that easy,” you complained.

“Just talk as slow as you possibly think you can. It’ll end up being a normal speed because of how nervous you are,” he said.

You nodded your head and scrolled to the top of your notes and started the presentation over. You started speaking again, first talking about the first time you met with the kids. You couldn’t help but notice how Shawn looked at you.

You finished it once again, and Shawn nodded his head.

“Perfect. Looks like an A+ to me,” he said with a shrug.

You breathed a sigh of relief and said, “Ok, let me do this one slide again.”

You went back to the one you messed up on as your phone vibrated. You had left it on the table, so Shawn glanced down at it. His heart dropped.

“Hayden texted you,” he mumbled, interrupting you halfway through your presentation.

You gave him a look before finishing off the slide.

“You could’ve just waited until I was done,” you said, giving him the same look again.

“Well, I know how you feel about him. Just thought you wanted to know,” he said with no emotion in his voice.

You grabbed your phone off the table and put it in your pocket without looking at the message.

“You’re not going to look at it?” Shawn asked, confusion in his voice.

“Not important right now. Now actually listen to this slide,” you said before starting over.

Shawn crossed his arms over his chest, his loving expression from just minutes ago was replaced by the one you didn’t see very often.

“Ok, what the fuck is your problem?” You asked after you finished your presentation.

“Nothing.”

“Shawn, seriously,” you said as you crossed your arms and looked at him, waiting for him to say something.

“I think Hayden seems like a dick,” he finally said.

“You’ve never met him.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

You ran your hands down your face and rubbed your eyes a few times.

“I don’t think you should see him over break,” Shawn said slowly and quietly.

You walked over to Shawn and sat on the coffee table across from him, your knees hitting his.

“Why?” You asked.

He didn’t look at you, just stared down at his hands.

“Shawn,” you said quietly. “Why don’t you want me to go on this date with Hayden?”

He finally looked up at you, noting the change in your voice, the irritation being replaced with that soft sound of your voice that he always craved.

“You know the answer, don’t you?” He said quietly.

You nodded your head in response, “Yeah, I think I do.”

He didn’t say anything, just leaned back and rested his arms over his face.

“But I need you to say it out loud,” you said, leaning your elbows on your knees.

“What are you going to say back?” He whispered.

“Guess you’ll find out.”

Shawn took a deep breath before saying, “I think I’m falling in love with you, and the thought of you hooking up with some guy that isn’t me over Christmas break, where I don’t get to see you for a month, makes me sick.”

“I’m not seeing him,” you responded a little too quickly.

He looked up at you with a confused look.

“I told him that it probably wasn’t a good idea,” you paused. “Because I didn’t want to ruin what I think could happen with someone here.”

Shawn didn’t try to hide the smile on his face as he said, “Who’s the someone?”

You rested your head in your hand and mumbled, “Do I have to say it?”

“You made me say it, now you have to,” you heard his voice from just inches away from you.

You looked up, his nose almost hitting yours.

“It’s you,” you paused. “I didn’t want to ruin what I thought could maybe happen with you.”

Shawn cupped your cheek in his hand, and you leaned into his touch. You both leaned in as he kissed you, holding your face in both his hands as you rested yours on his knees. He pulled away after a moment, looking at you with that look before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“You taste like peppermint,” he mumbled against your forehead. You couldn’t help the laugh that came out as you pushed him back against the futon and straddled his lap.

“Want to taste it again?” You said before leaning in again, your presentation long forgotten, as you let your Christmas spirit hold break a little earlier than planned.

P.S. I wanted to name this “Peppermint Kisses,” but that clearly gave the ending away.

REBLOG, SEND ME MESSAGES, ASKS, REPLYS ANNNYYTTHHIIINNGGG

taglist (message/send me an ask/reply to be added for ficmas!!)

@fallinallincurls @shawnblrficawards

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alolanrain · 4 years

Note

I know u probs aren’t looking for another au but u kind of inspired this: Raihan being Ash’s BF for a bit now when Mew and Mewtwo appear. They hand Raihan a lump wrapped in clothes and Mewtwo is like “there was an incident we’re working on it but we need someone to watch them while we work and they can’t leave the region bye” and teleport away. Raihan is so confused until he finds a de-aged baby ash and Pichu in the lump (it takes a week before Celebi/Dialga can fix it).

OKAY FIRST OF HOW DARE YOU BRING THIS WONDERFUL AU TO MY DOORSTEP!?!?

Second off this is absolutely amazing and I’m taking it now.

Raihan is absolutely shocked because he did NOT plan is day to be like this at all. Ash is now babey so he can’t be left alone at all, something in Raihans gut is telling him not to hire a nanny even though that would take a large chunk of work off of Raihan’s plate, and the Pichu with the baby has to be Pikachu.

He goes back to his house, not saying a word besides what he sputtered out to Mew and Mewtwo before they vanished, and sits down on the couch. Pichu curled up and clinging to his headband as Raihan looks down to his de-aged Bf who’s looking up at him. Making baby gurgling noises and raising his hands up at Raihans face. It’s only then does it sink in that his wonderful Bf is de-aged and he has absolutely no fucking clue how to take care of a baby. So that means there’s only one thing...

Call Melony

Raihan being a coward goes through like forty google links on How To Take Care Of Your De-aged Boyfrind, more like babysitting a baby for dummies, before submitting when he STILL has no clue. The call goes to voice mail and Raihan is to scared and panicking that he just stutters out “I have a baby, help.” Before ending the call and instinctively chucking his Rotom phone across the room. Rotom is kinda pissed at that but they understand because their afraid of Melony to, Pokémon like trainer.

Raihan doesn’t get any answer or notifications from her until like 3 hours later she basically kicks his doors down and send both Raihan and Ash, who he was still cradling in his arms, into a scare fit. Ash starts crying and Raihan wants to to when he see’s Melony now armed with Kabu and Opal behind her.

It’s a mess and Ash starts crying even louder when he gets taken out of Raihans arms, Pichu gets angry as well and Raihans Pokémon are so close to attacking as well because the 3 adults scared them as well, by Melony and All three question him about where he got Ash and how come someone trusted Raihan with a baby this young?

Raihan panicking and about to have a anxiety attack: it’s Ash!

Melony stopping: it’s who!?

Raihan getting worse: it’s Champion Ash! A new and some kind of knock off Mew called Mewtwo gave him to me along with Pikachu *waves to the sparking Pichu on his shoulder*. I don’t know what happened, something to do with Dialga and Celebi, but I’m supposed to watch him until he un-de-ages.

All three adults: *simultaneously shocked Pikachu meme*

Bby! Ash: *still crying*

Raihan: can I.... can I have him back?

So Raihan gets him back and Ash calms down a little but still is a sniffling mess and Raihan is still close to crying himself from under all the sudden stress and anger from the three most badass gym leaders. Opal acts first while coming closer and uncharacteristically correcting Raihans hold with a shaking hand. Raihan then remembers that both Kabu and Opal were once parents but both lost their kids in different accidents long ago before Raihan was born, a secret kept between any and all Galar Gym leaders.

Melony is still a bit stressful but both Opal and Kabu calm down, or Kabu relaxes a little since he was mostly calm during that interaction, and help Raihan clean Ash up. Pichu is still distrustful but let’s it go for now since no one is yelling anymore and Ash isn’t crying. It soon boils down that Melony would bring her old nursery stuff down to Raihans house later that day while Kabu and Opal help Raihan order baby stuff to his house. When Raihan questions why not go out and buy stuff they point out that Raihan with Ash out in public, with the public Not Knowing Ash is a baby until who knows how long, would cause a rucus and that would cause Rose and Oleana coming down to talk to Raihan.

He then points out that he’s a Gym leader, and it’s nearing the end of the training season as well, AND that he has a large following on social media. His fans are bound to find out that he has a baby by either stalking his house or the public just finding out that he’s taking care of a baby because Raihan has to go to work and back.

Hiring a nanny is immediately off the list Raihan states when they try and brainstorm some ideas. To risky which Raihans position and crazed fan clubs, and he doesn’t trust Rose’s hired league nannies after what he heard of what happened with Melony young twins, and that one of them might somehow find out early and work into the selection pool and now Raihan is falling into another panic induced episode that’s slowly working its way to upsetting Ash.

It takes Kabu gently getting Ash out of Raihans grip for him to realize that he almost set of Ash again. They agree nannies are off the table and are now forced to agree with just going with the flow and going out to public and dealing with Rose and Oleana afterwards.

What Raihan dreads the most is when Sonia and Nessa find out, their very big on babies and Raihan knows that they’ll try and be over almost 90% of the time, or Arceus forbids Leon finds out. That man was such a little terror when his baby brother Hop came into the world. Constantly rebelling against Rose and Oleana, much to everyone else’s amusement in the league besides Rose and Oleana, to go see little baby Hop. Dude has a sixth sense of when there’s a baby nearby.

Raihans fears happen and the moment someone spots him in public with Opal, Ash, and Pichu theres photos spread all across Galars social media. He refuses to check his phone, turned off because no-fucking-way is he answering anyone’s calls in public, and continues to ignore the chatter and uncharacteristically stick by Opals side who glares at anyone who dares come to close to the young adult and the baby.

Melony and Kabu go back, with an extra house key to Raihans house just incase they magically get back before he and Opal do, to Melonys house to get her old nursery stuff and transport it back to his house. Opal isn’t really playing until her usual Crazy Old Eccentric Lady normal personality. she’s more wise and calm as she easily answers all of Raihans, still, slightly frantic questions.

Ash is a quite baby throughout all this, maybe it helps that Pichu keeps chittering down to the baby at all times through the ordeal, and only really made any noise when Raihan brought a toy into his sight. Other then that Ash was more tuned to the idea of sleeping and drooling on Raihans hoodie.

Once they got back to the house, Kabu and Melony nowhere in sight and Raihan was taught how to clean, feed, burp, and dress Ash, did Raihan turn on his phone. Half surprised by all the calls, voicemails, and frantic all calls messages by everyone. What worried him the most was the most frequent call, from Lance of all people.

Lance pops up on his screen again and Raihan quietly prepares for the man to question him before answering.

Lance: where’s Ash and when did you get a baby!?

Raihan, extremely tired: the baby is Ash

Lance: ... that makes so much more sense and not at all at the same time

Raihan: from what Mew and Mewtwo told me before disappearing, something happened and Godly de-aging for both Ash and Pikachu

Lance: ....

Raihan: .....

Lance: so how long-

Raihan: I have no fucking clue

Lance: well Shit.

Melony and Kabu come back, with Gordie and Bea in tow as well, and they all start setting up the nursery in Raihan office room and the crib between Flygon’s ‘nest’ of pillows and blankets and Raihans bed. Raihan orders pizza as a thank you and the next thing he knows Sonia comes bursting through the door.

Raihan, to tired for anymore of this shit today, does not let her hold Ash. Using his height to his advantage and keeps Ash, who’s also sleeping, out of her grip carefully. After an hour or 3 he kicks them all out of his house and finally settles Ash down for bed after going through the motions of checking his diaper and everything else.

Ash sleeps well through the night besides one crying fest early in the morning, thankfully right around 5:30 when Raihan usually gets up, and Raihan has to stumble through the journey of getting Ash cleaned, fed, burped, and dressed before looking over a pre-packed baby bag and going to work the next day.

#wolfy answers #ash ketchum #gym leader raihan #fangshipping #sonia #nessa #melony #bea #gordie #kabu #opal #rose #oleana #champion leon #de-aged!ash #bby!ash #de-aged ash!au

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ooohyou · 3 years

Text

Submitted to r/nosleep by u/NemesisLuce

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Don’t get me wrong, I love my job. Cute little bookstore in a quaint little town. I love helping customers find the right book for their mood. I love showing cute children’s books to curious kids. I love talking with sales reps and figuring out exactly which new releases to order from them.

I also fucking hate my job.

It was ten minutes past closing time, and I had my brightest, fakest smile on while trying to get the last customer out of my store. No sir, I cannot look up a book on the computer if all you know is the cover was red when you saw a poster for it 5 years ago. No sir, “I think it was about the cold war and a detective who drank too much but maybe it was something else” does not help me at all. Look sir, all my historical thrillers are on this shelf. Does anything ring a bell? No? Was it made into a movie? You don’t know? Oooookaaaay then, I’m sorry to inform you that we are already past closing time, here’s the store number, if you remember the title give us a call and we’ll order it for you if it’s still available. Thank you, good evening to you too sir, goodbye. Yes you have your umbrella, it’s right here in your hand sir. Okay bye bye.

I sighed and gave my cashier the biggest eyeroll I could manage before locking the door and turning over the sign that previously said ‘come in, we’re open!’. I heard the coins clanking in the coin counting machine (do these have a name? I don’t know. Coin counting machine is pretty self-explanatory and I’ve never bothered to check if they were actually called that), signifying that Alice had started to sort her cash drawer. I would only need to take out the profits of the day, make sure she had enough cash for tomorrow, and send her home. I went through the motions mechanically, only thinking about the nap I was about to have in the breakroom. It was going to be glorious. I really needed it if I wanted to be alert for the night shift.

Oh, yeah. We’ve got a night shift here. It’s my store’s most… peculiar aspect. We close at 6pm, but we open again at 11, up until 5am. Then we open again at 10am. So when I said ‘nap’ earlier, I actually meant the first half of my night, since I am working both shifts. Yes, I live in my store. Please buy books instead of reading stuff on the Internet, I would really love to be able to afford another employee.

So there I was, counting money fully on autopilot, daydreaming about drinking a nice cup of herbal tea and hugging my pillow, when Alice said something that ruined my plans.

“I forgot to tell you, something weird happened when you were on break.”

I snapped out of my daydream instantly and shot her a questioning glare.

“Yeah, this old lady came in, looking for something about fairy tales. I showed her the section but she didn’t want to have a look there apparently, and she asked me about something from the back. And I was like ‘do you think we’re hiding books from our customers or something’ so I just told her everything we had was on display in the store but we could order any book we didn’t have if she wanted. And she just shook her head and mumbled something and then she handed me this pamphlet and I was like ‘okay feel free to look around’ and didn’t even look at the pamphlet before shoving it in my pocket because a kid entered the store holding an open juice box and that was a disaster waiting to happen so yeah but that was weird right?”

She had actually run out of breath by the end of her sentence, and I wasn’t surprised. I was pissed though.

“Alice for FUCKS sake. Give me the pamphlet, don’t look at it. I’ll write that you were fired because of the store’s financial situation and give you a glowing recommendation.”

All color drained from the young girl’s face. I wasn’t mad at her, but I was still mad. She was supposed to know the rules. Hell, I even had her train the temps we hired to help around Christmas time. In retrospect, it was a miracle nothing bad had happened.

Okay, I was slightly mad at her. But I really didn’t want to be.

I saw in her eyes that it had finally clicked. She understood the gravity of what she had done, and handed me a crumpled pamphlet from her pocket, making sure to avert her gaze. God damn it. She had one momentary lapse, and it cost me a good cashier. Fucking hell.

“I’m sorry…” she started.

“It’s okay Alice, you didn’t mean to. You were alone on the floor, she was an old bat, it could’ve happened to anyone. You’ll be missed around here, but please don’t visit.”

She nodded. She finally remembered the rules, and she understood that there was no other way.

I put the cash drawer in the safe while she gathered the stuff she had left in the break room. I opened the back door to light a cigarette. She had tears in her eyes as she exited the store. I gave her a smile and clasped her hands in mine.

“You were a good employee, Alice. You’ll do great in a regular bookstore. Don’t doubt yourself and avoid this street for a few weeks. Call me if you run into any trouble, okay?”

“Thank you for the opportunity, boss. I really loved working here.”

“I know you did. Now hurry home. Don’t answer to anyone knocking on your door. Be safe.”

She nodded and scurried away, her backpack bouncing with her steps. I crammed my half-finished cigarette into the already-full-but-I-keep-forgetting-to-empty-it ashtray and went back inside.

The pamphlet was sitting on top of the safe, and as I grabbed it I felt the urge to read it. Nope. In the bin you go. I was accustomed to those old tricks. First rule of working with my clientele is to know when you can’t trust your instincts because something’s fucking with them. Second rule is to trust your instincts. Confusing? Welcome to my life.

So I ended up sitting at my desk typing furiously on my computer instead of napping. I still had a few hours until night shift, but I absolutely had to start interviewing prospective employees in the next couple days – in the meantime I just had to hope one of my part-time employees would like to work a few extra hours. I just have too much work to spend all my time manning the register and keeping the tables neat. While the store isn’t that big, it still is a lot for one person.

I obviously had to update the employee rulebook as well. Just emphasize that you can’t take chances with crazy old people. You never know if they’re truly crazy or something else.

“Never accept anything a customer hands you directly if it’s not (real) money. If they’re promoting something, make them leave any cards, pamphlets, posters at the register. If you end up accepting whatever they gave you, don’t look at it, and come to me immediately.”

Yes, it’s weird. I know it’s weird. Look, I pay my employees a fair enough wage that they make sure to follow the rules. I don’t care if they think I’m crazy. I probably am. It doesn’t matter.

I pressed enter and added:

“If a customer asks if they can see what we have in the back, politely decline and offer them to order whatever book they need. If they persist, come get me.”

God damn it, Alice actually handled this part well. But she grabbed the pamphlet, and I had to protect her.

I don’t write the rules to make my employees better workers. I write them to make sure they survive. The main reason any infraction is cause for termination is that, well, it could be the cause for the actual termination of their existence on Earth. Getting fired from a job is a way better alternative.

Alice accepted the old lady’s pamphlet. It could’ve been anything else. A tissue, a cigarette, a glass of water. She unknowingly made a bargain with whatever the woman was. ‘I gave you something, now I’m free to take something’. Entities like the old lady abide by archaic rules. In a store, this is what applies. I lost a regular day customer that way. The poor lady was watching over her kid, who was merrily making a mess looking through the 3-5 years old section, when a young girl came up to her. “Look miss, look I made a drawing”, she said. My customer grabbed the piece of paper and the girl ran off. A couple days later, posters popped up everywhere in town for a missing toddler.

I was obviously pissed. I’d been waiting to see that little girl again and tell her that business rules applied only between merchant and customers and she had no right to force an innocent, unaware person into a contract. My night clientele is well aware of that, and treasure having a place to find literature enough to not risk jeopardizing the fragile balance between both worlds. Nonhumans can be facetious little shits though, and I’ve never seen that girl again. Some entities enjoy chaos just for the sake of it. This one just danced around the rules, grabbed what she wanted, and ruined two lives. My customer sank into a deep depression and ended up gouging her eyes out during a manic episode. Her toddler was never found, but I don’t think he will grow up to be a respectable, human adult.

I checked the time and decided I could get 2 hours of sleep before having to get the store ready for night shift. So obviously I went to check out who – or what – was knocking on the glass window near the entrance because who needs sleep anyway.

It was an old lady, her wrinkled bloated nose pressed against the glass, her skeletal fingers tapping against it in a rhythmical fashion that was getting on my nerves. She had piercing, blood-injected eyes that were fixed on me and a grin so large it couldn’t possibly be natural.

I didn’t have time to be scared, but I still felt the fear creeping up on my stomach, slowly making its way through my body. No matter how hard I tried to reject it, I couldn’t. Stupid human nature. I adorned my best customer service smile and walked up to the old lady.

“My apologies, you seem to be a bit early. We will be open for business at eleven.”

I didn’t need to yell. I knew she could hear me clearly in spite of the glass separating us.

One… two… three taps on the window. Her already impossibly wide grin grew even wider, revealing rotten teeth sticking out of black, putrid gums. Thick, yellowish saliva was dripping down in strands from her non-existent lips. By the time the corners of her mouth reached her temples, I was sure I would lose my fake confidence and run in the opposite direction. No matter how many times you deal with unnatural entities, being mere centimeters away from a nightmarish mouth full of rot and decay will shake you to your core. I tried to breathe calmly, being secretly thankful for the glass that separated me from what was probably the foulest smell I’d ever submitted my nose to, hoping the old lady would see me standing my ground and respect the rules of business. I could deal with her inside my bookstore, where she would be a customer. I just needed to stay brave and meet her transfixed, unwavering gaze. Her eyes were more blood vessels than pupils, and I found myself focusing on those instead of whatever was moving in her mouth. I did not want to see her tongue, not after seeing the state of her teeth. And I sure as hell did not want to see whatever I clearly caught moving around her mouth if it wasn’t her tongue. No, her eyes were scary but I could deal with them, no matter how unsettling it was to see them bulge in and out of her head in a slow motion, almost as if they were breathing. The glass became foggier and foggier on her side due to her heavy, animalistic panting, but I kept my gaze straight, only catching glimpses of fog and movement in my peripheral visions. If I were to treat her like an animal, I needed to assert myself as the alpha. I don’t yield to rude, entitled customers, and I wouldn’t yield to rude, entitled nonhumans breaching the unspoken contract that allowed them to enjoy my store.

After what felt like forever, she stopped tapping on the window. Her grin reverted back to a normal, almost friendly smile. She blinked, soggy wrinkled eyelids covering those eyes I had stared at for far too long.

“I guess I’ll see you when you’re open, then”. In spite of the glass panel separating us, I felt her putrid breath against my ear as she whispered her parting words.

Just like that, she turned and left.

Understandably, I was not looking forward to seeing her during the night shift. My regular customers were unsettling enough, I did not want to add the batshit-insane-nightmarish-grandma to the list.

I’m a business owner. The customer may not be always right, but they are always my priority. I will have to open tonight, because while some may not consider books to be a necessity, I guarantee you that it is vital not only for my business, but for some of my night customers that I open every night. I complain about my life a lot, but some of them face issues they can’t simply look up on the internet nor ask a friend or even a therapist. They may urgently need something from the night inventory, and I will do my best to provide it for them. I’ve always loved being a bookseller, but helping nonhumans find whatever fits their very specific needs has given me a sense of purpose I’m not ready to give up just yet.

I will open tonight. And I will protect my business and its rules, to ensure that I can open tomorrow night.

(Note: edited some words to fit in with the location LOL)

#r/nosleep #ghoststories #storytelling #bookstore #book store owner #ghosts #creepy #bedtime stories #SoundCloud

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