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mercy-burning · 3 years

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Myth or Movie

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Unbeknownst to the two of them, Y/N and Spencer's children have worked up a plan to get them to meet... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Strong language, oral sex (female receiving), penetrative/unprotected sex, someone is misgendered (nothing too bad, it’s very brief, and it’s sincerely apologized for by the person who misgenders) Word Count: 4.2k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: This is my 2nd entry for Pom’s ( @imagining-in-the-margins ) Enemies To Lover’s Writing Challenge! This one was one of the prompts she provided: You and (Character)'s kids don't get along, so you have to have a talk. Turns out you... really really get along... and I couldn’t wait to tackle it! I believe my exact words were: “I’m gonna Parent Trap these bitches”... So do with that what you will lol

———

"I'm so sorry I'm late!"

Two heads turn to stare at me as I burst through the doors. I'm out of breath from running through the building, something the staff really didn't seem to appreciate, though their shouts and annoyed glances were the last thing on my mind.

As I try to catch my breath, the two heads stand, and suddenly I feel a lot smaller.

One of them I recognize— Principal Anteros. I'd met with her before over some of Sky's academic achievements, all positive things, which is why today's circumstances make being in this office rather uncomfortable.

It's also why I seem to shrink with embarrassment at my tardiness— and appearance. Waitressing has its benefits, but today's whirlwind of phone calls and a mention at meeting another parent are not any of them.

Speaking of, the other person in the room is one I've never seen before. He's taller than both Anteros and I, extremely well dressed, and probably the most intimidatingly beautiful human being I'd ever met. I can barely meet his eyes, and so I try not to think about what he's doing here—to think about having to talk to him.

I shrink even further.

"Ms. Y/L/N," Principal Anteros greets. Thankfully she doesn't sound too upset given the circumstances. "Please, have a seat."

I do, brushing off my uniform as if that will somehow help my appearance. The soft leather of the chairs, however comfortable they might be, fail to bring me any comfort at all.

"As I'm sure you've guessed already, this is Doctor Reid, Vivian's father."

Great, he's a fucking doctor? This already bodes well for me...

Regardless of my reservations, I turn to him and give a faint smile. He waves in turn, and for the time being I'm extremely glad he doesn't insist on shaking my hand.

"It's nice to meet you," he says, surely nothing but a formality.

"You, too," I say quickly, then turn back to Principal Anteros. "Your phone call sounded urgent... Is everything alright?"

As soon as I say it, I feel kind of dumb. Because of course everything isn't alright. My child's principal called a meeting with another parent, and that can never mean anything good, not to mention the fucking intimidation and awkwardness in the room right now. I almost apologize, trying to explain that that wasn't exactly what I meant to get across, but then I would have just been talking for way too long, embarrassing myself further.

Once again, I'm thankful for Anteros's ability to move the conversation along. "I'm not sure, but it doesn't seem so. I only bring this to attention because Sky and Vivian are both stellar students. They've never had any disciplinary issues or difficulties with other students..."

"No one's hurt, right?" Mr. Reid asks. I know he's just concerned for his child, but for some reason it feels like an attack on me, like he assumes my kid had something to do with it.

"No, no one's hurt. Thankfully there weren't any physical altercations. But it seems your girls are quite... loud."

The doctor looks like he wants to say something, but I'm quick to jump in before he can. "Sorry... Sky is non-binary. They use they/them pronouns."

I half expect one or either of them to make a big deal or just roll their eyes at me, as most people seem to do when I correct them on the matter, but Anteros gives a sincere apology and Reid probably couldn't have cared any less.

I still can't tell if I like him or not...

But that doesn't matter right now.

"What do you mean by loud?" I continue.

Anteros sighs. "Well, while there hasn't been any physical violence, your kids seem to have very heated arguments, usually during lunch or in the hallway in passing... We thought maybe we could resolve it here since, like I said, they're both excellent students, but then it started escalating to classroom arguments... It's a lot of screaming..."

I have never known Sky to raise their voice at anyone, not even in a situation where I probably would have. Lord knows I'm thankful they don't have my impatience and tendency to get pissed off easily...

So what happened that was so bad, it made them snap?

"You... You're sure you mean Vivian is acting out like this?" Reid asks slowly, and I can't stop myself from laughing out loud.

"Come on, she's a professional. This has been going on for weeks, in her school, I'm sure she would know if it was your kid having a screaming match with someone else..."

This time Doctor Reid actually looks over at me, an eyebrow raised, and though I very much believe what I've just told him, the way he's looking at me right now drops my heart straight down to my stomach, like he's the principal and I'm the student acting out—No, it's worse than that... I feel like he's a disappointed parent, but not with Vivian, with me.

I avoid his intimidating stare and look down at the ground. "Sorry... I'm just... This isn't like Sky, either, I don't know what to do..."

"Well, usually when we have these sort of disputes, we like to have the students talk it out amongst themselves with a moderator present. But we've tried that, and it seems that they still haven't made any progress. Now, I know your children are good at heart, and it seems like you both are excellent parents— You know your children better than anyone here ever could. So, I'm proposing the two of you take a meeting some time and try to figure out how to settle this."

Seriously? If it hasn't been made clear already, this man is a doctor of some kind, planets away from my league in any capacity, and I can just picture the two of us in a screaming match close to what I imagine our children's looked like...

Maybe we can just e-mail.

"Okay," he agrees evenly, and I'm surprised he seems this calm considering I've just practically yelled at him... "I have free time this afternoon if you want to talk it over."

"I have to get back to work, but I get done at five," I sigh, wanting to get this over with. "Are you free then?"

"Mhm."

"Good," Anteros chirps, standing and leaving Doctor Reid and I to follow suit. "Perhaps over the weekend we can get this settled."

I sure as hell hope so.

———

"Ms. Y/L/N, wait!"

I have no idea what he could possibly want from me now that we've set a time and place to talk tonight, but I'm just praying desperately that he doesn't want to take this time alone in the parking lot to get back at me for accosting him in Anteros's office...

Thankfully, his face when he approaches seems rather kind.

"You can call me Y/N..."

"Right," he says, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets and nodding. "I'm Spencer."

"Spencer... So, um... Did you need something?"

"O—Oh, I just... I know you have to get back to work so I'll make this short, but I wanted to see if you wanted to do, uh... dinner tonight?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, I just figured since we probably didn't expect for our weekend to go this way... We should make it worth it?"

"Are you really trying to turn this into a date?"

"W— No, not really, I just... You know, I thought it might be nice to... make this less like a chore, you know? A—And don't feel like you have to say yes, it was just a thought, I'm sorry if I made this weirder..."

The fact that I still can't figure this man out bothers me, but right now he's blushing, and he looks like he's trying to save himself from embarrassment, and it's so fucking adorable that I don't really care that I was just annoyed.

So I tell him, "Sure. Why not?"

"Really?"

"Yeah... Besides, Lord knows I haven't gone out for dinner in a long time."

The doctor is relieved, a smile creeping up on his lips that suddenly tugs at my insides and makes me wish for a second that it really is a date he's offering... "Okay, good. Do you want to meet at Waterstone, seven o'clock?"

The excitement starts to drain from me as he says it, followed by an incoming wave of embarrassment. "Oh, man, that... That place is kind of expensive, I don't—"

"Oh, it's okay, I'll pay for everything. I'll even wait outside for you so we can go in together if you'd like..."

Why he's being so nice to me I have no idea, but it's making my annoyance melt and my heart start to beat faster, and I really don't know how to feel about that. In fact I'm pretty sure it's weird as fuck given the circumstances.

But all I have to do is make it through this weekend, hopefully all will be back to normal, and I won't ever have to think about it ever again.

"Alright... It's a date."

———

Out of all the scenarios I'd pictured for the end of the night, this definitely had not been one of them.

I finished my shift at the diner, imagining on my drive home the look on his face when I inevitably showed up with something on my face or stained on my dress; Instead I showed up to Waterstone and was greeted with wandering eyes and showered with bashful compliments.

I expected to get into some type of argument about how each of our kids were better than the other or something, but we ended up talking through their traits with compassion, interest, and pride, all while agreeing that we just have to sit with them this weekend and explain that there are easier, better ways to sort out disagreements than screaming at each other in public.

I expected not to have much fun at all, but by the time we gathered the check and headed out the door, Spencer and I were laughing, just a little tipsy on Cabernet, our hands gently brushing and sparks shooting up my arm at the feeling.

I expected to go our separate ways and walk to my car and drive home, but instead he ended up telling me he was taking the Subway home, and I offered to give him a ride to the opposite side of town where I lived (Waterstone was right in the middle).

I expected to walk through the door, stumble straight up to bed, and sleep until Sky inevitably woke me up with them saying I've slept in too late and needed to get ready for work, but instead I ended up following Spencer up to his door to say goodnight.

And now we're at a fork in the road, and I can take one of two paths.

I can say goodnight, watch him walk in, and then go home and forget about this whole thing.

Or I can keep letting him stare at me until I find myself leaning in to kiss him. Whether or not he'll actually reciprocate is another story, but the little bit of wine tingling in the surface of my body and the dark, intense look in his eye gives me more courage than I've had since I met him.

Before I can make a move, Spencer talks, his voice small and inviting. "Do you want to come inside?" The beating of my heart quickens immensely as he takes another step forward and brings his fingers out to graze my chin. "Vivian's with her mom tonight."

Yes. Vivian's mom, who divorced Spencer pretty soon in the marriage after she just decided his job was too much to handle. He'd quit and took a teaching job, but even still, she declined his pleading to stay married and eventually admitted that she just wasn't in love with him anymore. At least she had the decency to let him have joint custody once his schedule cleared up, and it seemed like they were decent co-parents. Maybe even friends.

I think about Sky, how much they wish their dad had stayed, and how much I wish he had too. I was devastated when he left without anything more than a note. For years it took a huge toll on us, and I barely had the headspace to even think about dating anyone since then.

But here I am now, standing with this man who has also lost a spouse, who's somewhat of a single parent, and who seems kind and genuine enough that I don't think I'd have to worry about bringing him into the life of my child.

Though, I don't even know it'll go that far. I'm getting too far ahead of myself, and so to slow down I look at what's right in front of me. Right now.

Spencer looks at me like he wants to devour me. My whole body is tingling from head to toe. I want to kiss him, and I'm pretty damn sure he wants to kiss me back. He just invited me inside, which means that if I accept, we'll most likely end up sleeping with each other.

Again... Definitely not one of the scenarios I'd had in mind when I left the school today. But it's a damn good one, and he's so hot I want to cry.

My flirty switch turns on so fast, it nearly gives me whiplash. "And what are you gonna do if I say yes?"

"Depends... How badly do you want to walk tomorrow?"

My first instinct is to jokingly tell him to put me in a wheelchair, but I settle for kissing him instead, hoping that gives the same sentiment.

The way he melts into my body tells me I've succeeded. My arms fly up to his neck and pull him closer, and he holds me tightly to him, waiting for my lips to part so he can expertly slip his tongue past them.

I whine out and take a step towards the door. Spencer comes with me and fumbles with the keys in his pocket before reluctantly pulling away to get us inside.

Once we take our jackets and shoes off, he clings to me like static, drawn to me like a magnet, and I let him near without a second thought. Our lips find each other perfectly, like they've always meant to fit together. And as pieces of clothing come off on our way through the house and up to his bedroom, our limbs fit together just as well. Nothing is out of place.

Hell, I don't even remember how inferior to him I felt earlier in the day. Our jobs and lifestyles might seem like polar opposites, but for right now, the two of us are on very equal footing, coming together like it's always been meant to be.

I nearly fall apart when his fingers gather wetness from my cunt, just enough to tease me before pulling away and bringing them to his lips. I watch with a whine waiting on the back of my tongue as he slips his fingers past his mouth and sighs.

"More," is all he manages, and I want so badly to tease him—tell him how I know he can be more eloquent than that—but words are all lost on me too, when he drops to his knees and spreads me apart with ease. I have no choice but to reach behind and grip the foot-end of the bed as he works his tongue expertly against me.

Each of my sighs and whines are met with more avidity from him, taking the form of sharp flicks of the tongue over my clit, and once he adds his fingers to the mix, pumping them expertly inside me, I'm a fucking goner.

I come with a silent shout, clenching my thighs around his face and gripping the foot of the bed so tightly it feels like my hands might go numb.

Once my body loosens, Spencer gets up and kisses me, nearly knocking me over. I'm breathless and dizzy as the tang of my arousal coats my tastebuds. His hands are gentle despite the hunger in his lips, and the medley of sensations of all of these things has me weak in the knees.

"Getting harder to stand already, sweetheart?" he laughs, catching me as I fall into him. His hands clutch at my thighs and he carries me to the edge of the bed, crawling over top of me and kissing down my neck. "That's okay... I'll take good care of you."

I still can't manage to speak as he gently pushes in, the slow burn of him splitting me in two rendering me utterly incapable of even thought. I gladly welcome the pressure, especially once he's inside me all the way and lowering his body to mine. Our chests press firmly together as he pulls back and starts a steady pace with his hips. He traps me with his arms, bringing them to either side of my face. And when his fingers brush the hair from my eyes, he stares into them with intensity as he fucks me.

It's slow and hard. It's heart-pounding. It's earth-shattering. It's everything that makes sex worth having. In that moment we're two equals, so wrapped up in the mere feeling of each other that everything else is just background noise. He breathes me in and I do the same, and with each cant forward of his hips, he brings me deeper into this world we've both ultimately created together.

I want more than anything to wrap my legs around him and keep him close to me, but he's fucking me so good that I don't have the willpower. Instead, they lay spread out, lazy and open as his hips move between them. I'm warm all over, tingling everywhere our skin connects. When he kisses me, swallowing my pathetic attempts at whimpering his name, I'm positive that this is what Heaven must feel like.

Whether it's hours or only minutes later, eventually my body tenses, unable to hold back any further, and two particularly deep thrusts from Spencer send me barreling over the edge.

"There it is, sweetheart..." he praises, caressing my face with long, gentle fingers and leaving little kisses wherever they trail. His voice only seems to help me along, each warm syllable soothing the muscles that pulled taut at his mercy. "That's a good girl..."

I feel tired, calmed, and relaxed, when he pulls out only to jerk off over my lower stomach. Through tired eyes, I watch as he lets go and covers me with his release. Hearing him grunt out my name as he does it nearly wakes me up again, and it even finally brings some words out of me.

"God, you're so fucking hot..."

Well... Not exactly elegant, but the feeling gets across.

Spencer laughs and rolls over so that he isn't nearly crushing me anymore. He kisses down my neck, my arm, and he ever-so-slightly swipes the tip of his tongue over the mess he made before kissing my thigh and getting up to leave— presumably to get me something to clean up with.

Sure enough, he returns shortly with a wet washcloth and tenderly cleans me up. I manage to sit, leaning back on my elbows once he's done and smile at him. He's practically kneeling in front of me again, smiling back as his lips press featherlight kisses to the inside of my leg.

"How're you feeling?" he drawls, letting me pull him up to lay down with me.

"Really good. I haven't done that in so long..."

"Me either... I um... I hadn't really thought much about seeing other people once Lena and I got divorced... I guess I just wanted to put all my focus into being the best father I could, you know?"

"Mhm," I answer, turning to face him and interlocking our fingers. "I know exactly what you mean."

We lay like that for a few moments in comfortable silence, hands and limbs tangled while we breathe the same air and revel in the afterglow we've just created.

Suddenly Spencer laughs, and I squeeze his hand. "What is it?"

"I was just thinking... We probably wouldn't have met if not for Anteros calling us in, right?"

"Yeah..." I piece it together. "Guess I never thought of it that way."

"I just think it's funny, because in Greek mythology, Anteros was an Erote, known as an avenger of unrequited love, and he punished those who scoffed at romantic advances made by others... You and I never even thought about dating after our separations, and yet... Here we are now, because of Anteros."

Hearing him educate me on Greek mythology only serves to remind me how different we are. Still, the little story brings a comforting smile to my lips. "Well... Remind me to send her a basket of muffins or something to thank her."

"And tell her what? That you're grateful she got you laid?"

"Yeah. And what about it?"

The two of us dissolve into laughter that eventually fizzles and leaves us silent again. Our fingers are still tangled, and somehow we've snuggled in even closer.

"In any case, I'm glad I got to meet you, Doctor Reid."

"And I, you, Ms. Y/L/N..."

———

In the past two weeks since that first meeting, I hadn't received any more phone calls from Principal Anteros, which bode as a good sign.

Spencer and I decided to see each other as secretly as we could, which meant only giving vague details to our kids as to what we were doing in our spare time— It seemed weird to spring it on them if they didn't get along, so we figured it was best to wait until the situation was handled.

I tried to talk to Sky about their progress with Vivian, but they only insisted that everything was fine and they wouldn't have to worry anymore. And after relaying this information to Spencer, he informed me that Viv had said the same thing to him.

It wasn't until we both realized that they'd said the same things verbatim each time we asked, that something odd was going on.

And that's how we end up right here, Sky and I sitting on a park bench bathed in the golden October sun while I patiently wait for Spencer to 'coincidentally' show up with Vivian.

Thankfully I don't have to wait too long, because almost five minutes after we sit, I hear the familiar sound of my name falling from his lips, and it's hard to contain the cocky, playful smile that appears upon my own.

"Spencer, hey!" I call back, standing up and going to give him a hug. He pulls me in and he's nice and warm. He smells like burnt wood for some reason, and I want to breathe him in forever. Instead, I settle for a sweet kiss on the lips, both because I simply want to and also because it should baffle the fuck out of our kids.

Sure enough we pull away and look to them, and they look panicked. They have no idea what to do, what to say...

"Oh! Sorry... Viv, this is Y/N, Sky's mom."

The pure amusement in Spencer's voice makes me feel even warmer than being in his embrace. I look to his daughter and give her a wave. "Hi."

"H—Hi..."

It almost seems cruel to laugh at their predicament, but as I turn to Sky and introduce them to Spencer, they have clear annoyance written all over their face.

"Okay, Mom, I think we get it... How did you guys figure it out?"

"What, that you two pretended to hate each other so your principal would have to call us both in to meet?"

The pre-teens look at each other and sigh, truly defeated once and for all. "Yeah," they mutter simultaneously.

"Well, it surely didn't make any sense when you got in trouble for yelling at each other in the first place," Spencer points out. "And then when we asked you how things were working out, you both said the same exact thing..."

"It wasn't that hard to figure out, but we appreciate the effort," I add, reaching out to ruffle Sky's hair. They jerk away playfully, and I can't help but notice their smile as they peek over at Vivian.

"Our plan worked, though, so I call it a win," Vivian says with a shrug.

"As long as you two don't plan on causing any more disruptions at school..." Spencer looks between the both of them, and then at me, his eyes softening as he takes my hand and squeezes it. "Then yes. I'd call it a win, too."

I lean into him and laugh. "Turns out it wasn't Greek mythology that brought us together. It was The Parent Trap."

He raises an eyebrow, like he doesn't get what I mean, and before I can ask or explain, Vivian does it for me. "He's never seen it."

Spencer looks between the three of us like a lost and confused puppy, and we all laugh.

"Well, then, maybe we'll have to have a movie night sometime soon," I offer, reaching out for Sky.

Hand in hand, the four of us continue down the pathway, walking away from the setting sun while dried leaves rustle under our feet.

———

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds smut #enemies to lovers

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ktheist · 3 years

Text

lips? sealed. legs? spread.

premise. because of the pandemic, you’re forced to have your graduation online. but that’s not stopping you from driving down to the beach to celebrate with your friends. it just so happens that you’re the main attraction of the night.

muses. jimin x reader, taehyung x reader, jeongguk x reader, yoongi x reader, yoongi x jimin.

word. 3.6k

warnings. consensual gangbang. public sex. unprotected sex. sex on the beach. bigdick!tae, bigdick!jeongguk, thick dick!jimin

note. this is pure absolute filth. idek why i wrote this.

it started with truth or dare before the word “boring” comes out of park jimin’s mouth and a “strip” added to cure that boredom to get you through the night. lisa manoban ends up stripped down to her panties and bra and steps out of the game.

“nah, i’m out, you guys have fun though.” she waves her hand in surrender, picks up her clothes and slips away from the circle to emphasize on her withdrawal from the game.

a series of ‘aww’s and ‘boo’s follow from you and the rest before hoseok disappears five minutes later, saying something about needing to take a number 1 but never coming back and getting forgotten by everyone.

he’s probably left to check up on lisa who said she was going to grab some snacks from the convenience store that’s just three minutes away from the beach.

the flames of the custom made bonfire dance in the night, cackling and laughing when it’s your turn to discard your bra. the chilly air making your nipples stand. your cheeks are burning as you cross your arm over your exposed chest. the hesitant way you look down and bite your lip is enough indication that you’re thinking twice about being the sole winner of tonight’s strip truth or dare. kim taehyung attempts to place his jacket around you but is met by a series of protests.

“if you wanna put on a jacket, you gotta be prepared to admit defeat. that’s the rule.” or so jeon jeongguk announces.

“never heard of that rule before.” kim jennie looks at him with an elaborated twist of her eyebrows to show the utter confusion and absurdity she finds in his words.

“yeah, well, now you know,” jeongguk winks.

it’s either because of the man’s flirtatious advancements or because she really needs to go to the bathroom, that she stands up, pick up the shirt and the only piece of article she’s taken off and walks towards the cars. somewhere a few feet away, the lights of the convenience store and closed diner illuminates the area.

jisoo shoots you a look that you shoot back with another look of determination. if there’s anything you’d never be caught dead doing, it’s raising the white flag before jeon jeongguk does.

so she ends up chasing after jennie on her own.

“anyone else wanna be loser?” jeongguk asks, vanity apparent in his voice.

you wonder how it’s not shivering in the cold with how he’s stripped naked to his boxers.

“i need to get some water,” seokjin announces and struts towards the direction the girls were headed.

he’s one of the lucky few that managed to keep his clothes on throughout the game.

it’s become an unspoken knowledge that the ones who backed out will go home in seokjin’s jeep.

there’s only you, taehyung, jimin, jeongguk and yoongi.

namjoon was the first to leave because his girlfriend called him crying for some reason and he’s the kind of man that would come running to his girl. somewhere in your heart, you feel a tinge of jealousy for chaeyoung for having such an amazing man who loves her to the moon and back.

“this is getting boring.” jimin confesses for the second time of the night, bringing the bottle to his plump lips.

“let’s play 7 minutes in heaven.” jeongguk suggests, “we’re all bored here.”

“but there’s just one girl...” jimin murmurs to himself.

“so? you can make out with one of us,” taehyung winks.

but jimin’s shyly looking down and smiling is the last thing you expect to see. he’d usually just brush off his best friend’s advancements by laughing or flirting back but never speechless.

“alright, here’s the bottle,” jeongguk says afer gulping down the whole content of the beer and lifting the opaque glass in the air, “game’s simple, it’s like spin the bottle but instead of making out, you spend 7 minutes in one of the cars.”

“no –not my car,” jimin complains, throwing his head back, probably recalling that time when he lent jeaongguk his car and in the morning, started blowing everyone’s phone up by spamming the group chat, sending death threats to jeongguk for those stains in the back seat.

“i’m out.” yoongi says simply, but doesn’t move from his spot which is sitting on the log between taehyung and jimin.

his porcelain skin is painted auburn from the fire in front of him. he raises the beer to his mouth and starts downing it.

“ugh okay, okay, how about just making out here for 7 minutes?” jeongguk mediates.

that receives a moderate response of ‘not-so-thrilled-but-not-against-it’ kind of nod.

jeongguk places the bottle down on the ground and yoongi plainly points, “that’s not how physics work.”

“shh,” the younger man shushes him up, “it’s gonna work.”

then he spins the bottle just a few centimeters above the sand. the opaque bottle spins in the air for the briefest moment before it lands on the grainy sand, it’s top pointed straight at you.

“okay, so me and ___ are the first pair.” he grins, excitement flashing across his eyes.

jimin goes next, mimicking jeongguk’s techniques and the bottle points at yoongi. all of a sudden, a strangled silence settles in.

the elder man makes an impressed nod –probably surprised at how things turned out.

“okay, tae, you spin the bottle and if falls on me or ___, you can join us and if it falls on jimin or yoongi, you can join them.” jeongguk says as if he’s done this plenty of times before.

you attempt to pick up your shirt when jeongguk clicks his tongue and wiggles his index finger in the air, “nu-uh, the game’s still going on, you put on any of the clothes you’re not supposed to have on, and you’re out.”

“that’s a dumb rule and i’m cold.” you roll your eyes and slip on your shirt anyway.

your nipples appear more protruded underneath that thin layer of material but it’s better than having to cover them with your arm.

jeongguk groans but doesn’t say anythng else as taehyung picks up the bottle and spins it.

in the end, you have a pair and a trio.

since taehyung is right next to you, crash your onto with his. it takes him a moment to register that the seven minutes start now before he swipes his tongue over your lower lip and you let him in, tasting the bitter beer in his mouth while he suckles on your tongue.

you expect taehyung to play along for the first few minutes and let jeongguk and you have a go at it. but the proactive advancements aren’t unwelcomed.

“hey! come on!” jeongguk whines somewhere in a distance –he’s sat across from you.

it doesn’t take long to make his way over and starts kissing your shoulder, sitting on the vacant end of the log. it’s the hand that snakes under your shirt and gropes your breast that makes you moan into taehyung’s mouth.

jeongguk pinches your nipple almost painfully, as if getting payback for starting without him.

when you don’t budge and wrap your arms around taehyung’s neck, he stops his assault on your sensitive buds and slips his hand under your panties. you gasp, body frozen from the unannounced intrusion and he takes that chance to turn your face to him, capturing your lips.

taehyung sighs softly, as if foreseeing that jeongguk would sweep you away from him. and you thought it the end of that.

but instead, you feel more slander fingers than jeongguk’s on your other breast that jeongguk didn’t touch. they’re gentle and handle you like you’re a delicate porcelain doll.

and like you said, taehyung’s touches aren’t unwelcomed.

that, paired with jeongguk’s careless fingers on your clit, easily makes you moan out in pleasure as sparks course through your veins, stars behind your eyes, your arm around jeongguk’s neck and your mouth tore away from his.

jeongguk lets out a low whistle as caresses your sensitive clit in a circular motion and stops when your hand grasps his wrist, telling him you need a break.

“wait, out here? dude, you can’t be serious,” taehyung lowly cautions as jeongguk shifts behind.

you barely get to focus your eyes after coming down from your high, noticing the two men making out behind taehyung where you last saw them. yoongi’s hand is in jimin’s pants.

“baby, can i put it in?” jeongguk’s voice is uncharacteristically silken and sweet.

it doesn’t take a genius why.

you throw a glance over your shoulder to see him pumping himself, his tip glistening with pre-cum.

“no, i want tae’s.” you say vindictively.

“what – “ the aforementioned man’s eyes widen, skin appearing olive gold next to the fire.

“may i, tae tae?” you smile, fluttering your lashes and smiling coquettishly as you caress him through his pants. just like jimin, he only lost his shirt in the earlier game.

his adam’s apple bobs as he contemplates your offer but spreads his legs open as though welcoming your touch.

“i...” he says thickly, “i don’t have a condom on me...”

“it’s fine, i’m on birth control,” you shrug, lips still curled into a suave, inviting smile.

then his head shakes in the smallest nod.

“yeah?” you ask, head tilted ever so slightly to the side in an innocent gesture.

“yeah,” he echoes your words, eyes screwing shut, “please.”

it takes you close to no difficulty to take him out. you ravel in his size –he’s possibly the biggest you’ve ever seen. taking him in your mouth, you let jeongguk pull you panties to the side and slip his tip past your entrance. he groans, appreciating your warmth while you coat taehyung’s length with your saliva.

once you’re sure taehyung’s all ready to take you, you lift yourself up, earning a whine from jeongguk whose closed eyes shoot open as if he just woke up from a delightful dream and crashed into reality. you lower yourself onto taehyung, humming in appreciation like jeongguk did as the taller man stretches you out to fit his size.

once you’re sat on his lap and taking him to the hilt, only then do you pay attention to jeongguk who’s directing your hand to wrap around his length.

you start to move your hips, appreciating each delicious graze of taehyung’s length stretching and molding you to fit his size while pumping jeongguk’s shaft and lowering your mouth to wrap around his tip.

“i’m close,” taehyung murmurs breathily, his hand ghosting over your hips as though barely fighting against his primal urges to grab your hips and move you to his desirred tempo.

“you can come inside,” you say, tearing your mouth away from jeongguk for the briefest moment to throw your head to meet taehyung’s hooded gaze.

“please, can i cum inside you too? after tae?” jeongguk asks, knowing full well that he’s walking on thin ice with you.

“no.” you deny curtly, making sure to shoot him a glare to emphasize your disapproval.

“fuck,” taehyung’s voice cuts through the night as he’s pushed to his limit. those large hands dig into your skin as he bounces your ass on his lap the way he wants it.

and you let him. moaning against jeongguk’s tip as your brain shortcircuits. you barely notice the way jeongguk’s thrusting his length down your throat –much deeper than you’d allow him, just because you’re not a fan of his arrogance but also can’t completely resist it.

once you and taehyung stop moving, jeongguk easily lifts you up from taehyung’s lap and place you down on his.

“jeongguk,” you say warning, not at all pleased that he handled you like a ragdoll but can’t help the way you tighten around him –he’s winning in girth compared to taehyung.

“don’t move –i promise i won’t come inside you, just please let me feel you around me,” jeongguk’s basically begging as he hugs you close to him –it’s probably to get you to stop any inch of movement but your stomach is fluttering and your cheeks are immeasurably hot.

you bite your lower lip from moaning.

while he’s holding you so tight, your clit is rubbing against him and you’ve got the fattest dick inside you.

there’s no way you can sit still.

you move your hip in a circular motion, the groan coming from jeongguk’s lips being music to your ears.

“fine,” you push the mated hair from his face when he pulls away from your shoulder and looks at you in the eye, they appear to be twinkling in the flicker of the flames, “you can come inside.”

the last thread of his sanity seems to snap. he lays you down on your back and because the log isn’t long enough for that, you end up having your head laid on taehyung’s thigh, his just-cummed dick still out in the open. every time jeongguk thrusts inside you, you end up brushing against it.

taehyung, having lost his reserves about sex in public, smiles down at you and places a hand underneath your head to support you while his friend is thrusting in and out of you like a mad man who’s never tasted a woman in his entire life.

eventually, taehyung, the moans and the squelching sounds disappear into a blurred mess. you don’t know where you start and where jeongguk ends.

when you come to, you’re staring at the starless night sky, breathing heaving into steady breaths as you feel satisfaction tingles in between your legs. a mixture of jeongguk and taehyung’s cums pour out of you and onto your stained panties.

and in the peaceful cackles of the bon fire and the sound of waves crashing, a shadow blocks your view.

“uh, ___,” jimin says hesitantly.

“hm?” you look up at the man with his length out –he’s probably the shortest compared to taehyung and jeongguk but his girth could give the latter a run for his money.

“we got turned on looking at you guys,” jimin stammers, cheeks flushed while yoongi stands next to him, stroking himself to the sight of your glistening and naked body.

“come here,” you giggle, pushing yourself up.

“let me,” taehyung whispers, sending shivers down your spine as he holds out his hand for you to use as a support.

you don’t realize how spent you are until you decide to stand up but almost go tumbling into the ground again a second later. you would’ve faceplanted into the sand if taehyung hadn’t caught you. he helps you to sit on his lap and holds both your legs up.

your panties are now discarded on the ground while sticky, white cum drips out of you freely and park jimin’s got a front row view of that.

you should be embarrassed but the last of your braincell’s got fucked out of you by jeongguk who’s now passed out on the sand, snoring away like he’s got no care in th world.

jimin’s face is beat red as he slips right inside you. it would’ve taken more teasing if you were to take him without jeongguk and taehyung’s jizz dripping out of you.

“you mind if i give you head instead?” you ask the elder man.

“not at all,” yoongi shrugs but that unbothered facade comes crumbling down like sand castle as soon as you wrap your lips around him, hand covering where your mouth can’t reach.

well, you can, but deepthroating’s jeongguk’s made you too tired to take another man deeper than you do now.

you sigh softly when jimin starts moving. he’s gentle with his strokes, as if making sure you’re gradually getting used to him. probably because he knows he’s thicker than the average men. and jimin being jimin, will probably make sure all his partners are comfortable (how ever comfortable you can be butt naked in the open and with sand sticking to your soles and exposed flesh.

but all that easily melts away as jimin hits that one spot that gets you throwing your head back on taehyung’s shoulder. even when he goes faster, he’s still attentive of your reactions and actions.

you’re not sure how he can read you when it’s covered in yoongi’s cum. he’s the fastest to cum out of all the four boys. somewhere in your mind, you thank the universe for giving you a fast and easy blow.

when yoongi steps away, you shift your focus to jimin, “i’m coming,” you murmur.

it takes a few strokes more for you come at the same time, jimin throwing his head back, barely moaning out. it’s as though his reservations still cling onto him and stops him from losing himself.

jimin pulls out with a sigh, legs barely able to stand so he tumbles back to one of those empty logs and zips himself up.

just when you’re about to pull your legs together, all of a sudden, conscious of how exposed and naked you are –taehyung’s hand stops you.

“taehyung...” you murmur, cheeks burning at the way you’re spread and bare with multiple men’s cum dripping down your ass.

but he doesn’t seem to mind as he slides his fingers down your stomach and slips two of them past your entrance, coating those slender digits with the cum inside you.

his motion starts picking up and until he’s thrusting his fingers inside you like he would his dick. you’re grasping his arm and biting your lips at the sudden yet different rush of pressure you’ve had up until now. with the pleasure jimin left you, it doesn’t take long for it to built up in the pit of your stomach and spreads through your body likes the waves against the shore.

the rest that follows is a blur. you remember foregoing your undergarments and slipping on your jeans and shirt before having taehyung sweep you off your feet and carry you to the car.

“t-tae! i can walk!” you try to protest but he simple chuckles.

“you can barely stand.”

you can only cast your eyes to his collarbones –anywhere besides his eyes as you recall the throbbing sensation between your legs.

jeongguk, having been kicked to wake by yoongi, scampers to stand up and follow the three of you. he falls a step behind and complains the whole way to the car, saying something about “can do that too”.

whatever that is.

when you reach your home, the lights in the living room are still on and you’re quite literally screwed.

“come on, i’ll help you to the porch,” jeongguk says ever so casually as he undes the safety belt.

yet something instinctual makes you hurl out words of rejection right there and there despite your brain telling you that you’ll barely make it three steps out of the door without crashing against the ground.

“no, i’m good.” you huff, swigging the car door open yet you hear another car door open and the sound of feet hurriedly shuffling over and in no time, jeongguk’s arm is around yours.

“i don’t need your help,” you hiss under your breath despite the relief that floods your system from jeongguk’s support.

“what are the chances of your parents letting you coming back past curfew slide because the face they saw walking you up to the porch is mine?” he makes a compelling argument.

before you can even refute, the front door swings open to your father’s glum expression. though his face lights up like christmas light as soon as he sees the man next to you.

“jeongguk! well, i’ll be damned,” your father beams, hands on his hips, “i didn’t know you two made up.”

“evening, mr. ___,” jeongguk nods in greeting, pretending not to hear the last part.

“thanks for walking me,” you say, strained.

gathering all that’s left of your might you take a step forward and out of his arm to stand next to your dad, waiting for him to leave.

“did someone say jeongguk?” your mother comes running from the couch, “oh, how’s your mother? is she well?”

“yeah. too well, actually. she’s been into yoga lately, keeps saying she’ll be able to beat me in arm wrestling,” jeongguk chuckles, scuffing his sole against the ground, hands buried inside his pocket.

“yeah, it’s getting late, don’t you think?” you cut in.

your parents seem to take the hint, your mother wishing him a one last, “tell minhee i said hi, yeah, son?”

“will do,” he smiles, eyes travelling to yours only to have him drop his gaze. “have a good evening mr. ___, mrs. ___.”

then he’s walking back to the car where you can see taehyung waving his hand from the passenger seat. only then, does an actual smile curve on your lips as you wave back, pretending not to notice the slouch in jeongguk’s figure.

that’s the last you talk to jeongguk privately. sometimes, when you’re texting in the group chat, you can’t help but reply to his dumb memes. yoongi and you exchange music in private message while you and jimin are ‘best friends’ on snapchat and you occasionally reply to taehyung’s insta story.

no one spoke of that night.

it’s as if it never happened.

the girls asked about it but you simply brush it off, “oh we had some drinks and decide to go home because it wasn’t fun with half of the squad not around.”

they don’t believe it.

but they don’t push it either.

but they probably thought you made a mistake and that mistake having something to do with your summer fling slash childhood friend, jeon jeongguk.

part of it was true.

except you fucked half of the boys in your group of friends.

it’s a month later, did you get a text from jeongguk on one ordinary friday night, after coming home from work. after going back to seoul.

jk: hey

jk: me and taehyung are going out for a drink

jk: since we live ten minutes away do you wanna come?

#taehyung smut #jungkook smut #yoongi smut #jimin smut #bts smut #taehyung scenarios #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #yoongi scenarios #jimin scenarios #bts fics #jungkook fics #yoongi fics #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfics #taehyung fanfics #jimin fics #taehyung fics

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lovely-ateez · 3 years

Text

Broken Strings~

ꕥPosted: 7/20/21

ꕥGenre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, College!au, Rockstar!au

ꕥPairing: Fem!Reader x Rockstar!Yunho

ꕥWord Count: 10k+

ꕥWarnings (please read all!!): Yunho’s ex is an absolute asshat, death threats towards both Yunho and reader, mention of knives used as weapons, San is a bisexual king (happy late pride month), unprotected pool sex/public sex (no one is around but I guess it still counts), masturbation (f), foul language, mentions of alcohol intake, reader is mentioned to have dark brown eyes several times which you can just ignore if you have different colored eyes ofc, mentions of a restraining order against an ex, please let me know if I missed something!!

ꕥTag List: @cappujinho @bobateastay @nevieatiny

ꕥA/N: The song lyrics are ones that I wrote myself specifically for this au and I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t nervous about posting it. I know there isn’t any tune or anything, but hopefully it sounds like a real song someone might sing. Also I’m not writing angst for a while after this holy shit I’ve been crying too much over this I’m emotional okay

“Date night! Date night! Date night!” I grabbed my boyfriend’s arm, bouncing on my toes.

Yunho raised a hand to cover his ear, scrunching his face, “Babe, I love you, but I think you’ve deafened me.”

I pouted at his tone and crossed my arms, “You’re such a grump.”

“Oh whatever.” He smiled, “You ready?”

I smiled at him and nodded.

Ever since his band, Sidekick Heart, began to pick up traction, he had less free time and our full-day dates once a week soon became date nights every few weeks. Most of his time was spent writing songs, producing them, and practicing endlessly. The fact that he had a tour coming up soon just meant he had even less spare time. I was happy for him, of course, but I couldn’t hide my disappointment that he was leaving.

In middle school, he and three of his friends formed a band for fun, which they kept with all throughout high school. They got good, really good and almost right after they graduated they were signed by a label. Now, three years later, they’d already released two albums and one EP and earned enough money to make a living, which was why Yunho dropped out of college a month ago. Since he had steady career path, he saw no reason to continue and decided to focus on music. He still visited me at college whenever he got the chance, but his visits were becoming more and more sporadic.

We started dating freshman year of college. We had our difficulties as most couples do, but everyday I thanked the stars for pairing us together. I met him on the first day of French class, a day I know I could never forget, no matter how how our future played out.

I sat my backpack on the table in front of me, looking around the empty classroom. I was ten minutes early, so I wasn’t surprised about the lack of students. It was a bit unlikely for me to be so early, but I wasn’t able to sleep the night before and so I had extra time to get ready. With nothing else to do, I took out my phone, reading some missed text messages.

I heard the door open and my head tilted upwards, meeting eyes with a fluffy-haired brunet. He shyly smiled at me and I returned the gesture. The man took a seat in the front row across from me, only a few chairs in between us. I found it cute that he liked to sit in the front of the classroom, too. Very few people did. He turned away from me to place his backpack on the floor and take out a few books. I took the opportunity to look at him. He was attractive, for sure. His short sleeved solid black shirt followed his movements, tattoos peaking through his top. The shirt itself tucked was into ripped jeans, his black shoes matching the outfit, along with various accoutrements. His look was uncommon for college students, most just wore sweatpants with with a casual shirt. I thanked myself for dressing nice that day.

I tilted my head to get a better look at his side profile. He was so handsome that I seemed to forget I was staring. I couldn’t help but get caught up in him, not realizing that I was no longer being subtle.

He spoke without moving to face me, “You’re pretty cute, too.”

“I-I what?” My eyes widened, realizing I’d been caught.

He turned, a charming smile on his face, “You aren’t exactly discreet.”

I took a breath, trying to form a coherent sentence, “Well...can you blame me?”

He pursed his lips, trying to hide a smile, “I appreciate the compliment. What’s your name?”

I hesitated before answering him, which brought a full smile to his face. He moved closer to me before holding out his hand for me to shake. I grabbed his hand and shook it, trying to keep my hands steady. His hand was soft, clearly he took care of himself.

“I’m Yunho.”

I smiled, observing the way he lit up as he turned my hand, placing a delicate kiss on my skin. I felt my face heat up and averted my eyes. Yunho chuckled as he released my hand. Both of us looked up at the sound of the door opening, a group of students entered, followed by a lady who I presumed to be the teacher.

Yunho looked at me, “Meet me after class?”

I nodded, biting my lip as I felt excitement build in my stomach, wanting nothing more than for class to end as soon as possible.

The instant the teacher ended her lecture she left with the rest of the students, who were talking among themselves. My eyes flickered to Yunho to find him looking back at me, his backpack now thrown over his shoulders.

“You have any classes after this?” He asked in a nonchalant manner. Later he confessed to me that he was far more nervous than he appeared, claiming that he fell in love with me at first sight.

I finished placing my notebook in my bag, zipping it up and putting the straps over my arms, “Yeah, unfortunately. I’ve got World Politics in ten minutes.”

“Aww damn. I was hoping we could grab some food.” He reached into his pants’ pocket, pulling out his phone, “Maybe I could get your number instead and we could meet up later?” He wasn’t pushy or demanding, simply asking.

I nodded quickly, “I’d like that, Yunho.”

He suddenly became more shy, the tips of his ears dusting a beautiful shade of pink, “I like the way you say my name.”

I giggled, trying to hide my own shyness. I took his phone and entered my number, really hoping that he would text me. As if he read my mind, he confirmed what I was thinking.

“I’ll text you,” He looked at me with sparkling eyes before shaking his head, like he was pulled back to reality, “Oh uh...you should probably get to class.“ He raised a hand, somewhat awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

“Yeah I probably should. I’ll see you around?”

He smiled, “I’ll see ya.”

It wasn’t long before he texted me, and it made my heart flutter that he kept his word. A day later we met up, grabbing ice cream and getting to know each other. He was a dance major and had to practically beg his parents to let him pursue dance. In return they said he had to repay them with getting straight A’s. He had one younger brother who was possibly the biggest baseball fan to ever exist, he roomed with three men he’d been friends with since kindergarten, and he absolutely adored my brown eyes.

“They’re just beautiful.” Yunho gushed, “Both times I’ve seen you they just sparkle and shine like they’ve got their own little galaxies in them. I’ve never seen anyone with such genuine, kind eyes.”

I let out a girly laugh at the compliment and covered my mouth with a hand, “You’re really trying to flatter me, aren’t you?”

“Depends. Is it working?” He laughed as he propped his head on one of his hands, leaning closer to me in the booth we were sitting in. We’d finished our ice cream long ago, now shamelessly flirting and getting lost in each other.

“It might be.”

“Well I do mean it. I’m not only trying to flatter you.”

The ringing of his phone caught our attention. He smiled apologetically and reached for the device. He sighed, reading the contact name and looking back up at me.

“I’m sorry I’ve gotta take this. It’s one of my roommates and it’s entirely possible they’ve set the house on fire.”

I laughed, “It’s okay, go ahead.”

Yunho excused himself as he answered the call, walking outside. I took a look around the shop we were in, smiling at all the decorations when I noticed a woman sitting alone, eating ice cream and staring at me. Her eyes were such an ice blue that they made her intimidating, to say the least. I wasn’t too surprised, I’d dressed nice and all throughout the day I’d been getting looks. Taking it as a compliment I smiled at her and waited for Yunho to return.

“So good news,” He started as he sat back down in the booth, running a hand through his hair, which was way more attractive than it should’ve been, “They haven’t burnt down the apartment, but San—he’s one of my roommates—his car ran out of gas a few miles away from here so I’ve gotta go help him. Can I drive you back to your own apartment first?”

“Oh no, I don’t want to worry you.” I waved a hand, “I can have a friend pick me up.”

He nodded, “If you’re more comfortable with that, sure, but I’d rather drive you home, if that’s okay.”

I nodded, walking with him as he guided me out to his car. We had our first kiss when he dropped me off, leaving me with the promise of another date, and he delivered. Time and time again he proved he truly cared about me, which inevitably led to a relationship.

We heard a loud crashing in the basement of the house and Yunho let out a frustrated groan, “Oh god it’s happening again.”

He walked over to the basement door, opening it and sighing at the loud yells emitting from below.

“What is it this time?” Yunho shouted.

Wooyoung’s voice rung out, “San won’t let me use the controller!”

The man in front of me placed a hand over his eyes, over the situation entirely, “You’re still fighting over that game?”

“Crash Bandicoot waits for no man!”

“San let him have the controller or I’ll come down there and I’ll beat both of your asses!” Yunho shut the door, giving me a tired smile and walking back to me, “You’d think we would’ve outgrown this stage by now. I’d fire them both and hire a new bassist and drummer if I could.”

“Okay that’s an absolute lie, and you say that like you’re any better. I saw you arguing with Seonghwa over the last bag of chips yesterday.”

He pointed a finger at me, not trying to hide the smile on his face, “Okay that was absolutely valid. I bought those and they were mine.”

I smirked. “My point still stands.”

He rolled his eyes playfully, changing the subject, “How about after our date I sing you a couple of our new songs?” He leaned closer, his lips barely grazing my ear, “I wrote a few about you.”

I pulled back from him, feeling warmth spread in my chest. “Really? You did?”

Yunho wrapped an arm around my waist, “How could I not? You’re always my inspiration.”

I let out a string of incoherent gibberish which prompted the most adorable eye smiles from my boyfriend. I felt too honored to put my emotions into words.

“Go on.” Yunho motioned to the front door, “Grab your purse and head out to my car. I’ll let the guys know we’re going and I’ll meet you outside.”

I gave him a salute, “You got it cap’n!”

His eyes warmed, “God, I love you.”

“I know!” I teased before I grabbed my purse and skipped out of the house. The sun would be setting soon and I admired the several hues that were painted within the sky. I sat on the hood of his car, swinging my feet as I saw him walk out of the house.

“So where exactly are we going?” I tilted my head, looking forward to his response.

“Well I’ve got a couple ideas.” He held up his long fingers and counted off on them, “We could go bowling, or we could have a late night picnic, or maybe...” He moved closer, placing his hands on either side of me with a mischievous grin, “We could go swimming.”

My face lit up, “I haven’t been swimming in forever!”

“I know, that’s why I recommended it.” He laughed, “Let’s break into the swimming pool downtown. It’s definitely closed by now so we can be alone.”

I raised my brows at his words, a smile widening on my face, “Don’t we need to bring swimsuits, though?”

Yunho grinned at me and moved a hand to ruffle my hair, “Nope. We’re going without ‘em.” He lifted me off his car, “Hop in, babe.”

We approached the fence with our hands interlocked, a new message greeting us. A red and black sign with the words ‘No Trespassing’ was attached haphazardly to one of the metal wires looped through the fence surrounding the pool.

Yunho tsked, “Aw that’s cute. Like that’s gonna keep us out. This is basically our pool anyways.”

I laughed, both of us knowing full well there was no method of security beyond the sign and fence. The pool had never installed security cameras and after word spread that the owner had a fear of advancing technology, we had no worry of being caught.

He cupped his hands, holding them out for me to step on. I placed my foot on his hands as he lifted me up, helping me scale the fence. I stepped back, feeling a thrill as Yunho jumped over. It was probably the fourth or fifth time we’d done this, but each time was just as exciting. We walked over to the edge of the pool, its light blue water and the dark blue of the sunset opposing one another but making a beautiful visual.

“Alright, off we go.” Yunho’s fingers danced to the hem of my shirt, then pulling it off and ridding me of the layer of clothing. He pressed several kisses to the exposed skin, making me shiver.

Yunho then pulled back from me, slowly removing his shirt and giving me a teasing look when he caught me staring at his abs, “I look good, don’t I?”

“Shut up,” I laughed, lightly slapping his strong, tattooed arm before removing my skirt, enjoying the way my boyfriend’s eyes devoured me. I returned the action when I saw him remove his jeans, something he was clearly enjoying as well.

I turned back to the pool only to be thrown over Yunho’s shoulders. He let out a string of laughs as I struggled to get down, fearing that he would throw me into the water.

“If you throw me into the pool I’ll kill you!” I laughed, squirming on his shoulders.

“No...I would never do something like that.” I wasn’t even facing him, but I could hear the smile in his voice, which was my only indication that he was about to throw me into pool.

Before I could try to make any sort of escape, he tossed me into the water. It was cold, but less cold than I expected it to be. I coughed up a bit of water as I resurfaced and when I opened my eyes I squinted at Yunho, annoyed at how attractive he looked with the evil smirk on his face.

“You’re a jerk.” I said with no venom behind my words.

“Yeah, yeah. Brace yourself I’m coming in.”

I barely had time to move before he jumped in, his legs tucked to his chest. “Cannonball!”

I moved my hands in front of my face to block the wave of water coming my way, not feeling any surprise about my boyfriend’s childish behavior. When he resurfaced he faced me with a smile, wading towards me, embracing me in his arms, and wrapping my legs around his waist. He was so tall that he could reach the bottom of the pool without having to swim, unlike me, where I was no near reaching the bottom and needed to swim in place. With a satisfied hum he pressed several wet kisses to my neck.

“I love you,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by my skin.

“I love you too, babe.” I hesitated before I said my next words, still overwhelmed at how strong my feelings were for him, “You’re the love of my life.”

He pulled back with a bright smile on his face, his eyes shining almost as if he was tearing up, “I knew you were the love of my life the moment I saw you. And you’re all mine.” Yunho said before he placed a delicate kiss to my lips.

“All yours, babe.”

His long fingers danced along my sides, grabbing at my hips as he began to attack my chest with kisses. I giggled as the feeling of his stubble tickled my skin.

“You know, you really ‘oughta shave before you get a full beard.”

“Why? Are you saying I wouldn’t look good with one?”

I cupped his face, “You’d look amazing with one, but I thought you didn’t like beards, babe?”

“Hate ‘em.” Yunho’s laugh echoed around us, “Really weird that men can grow them in the first place. But anyways...”

His hands made quick work of my bra, letting it sink to the bottom of the pool. I opened my mouth to scold him but before I could his mouth latched to my right nipple, sucking and nipping on it in a way that made my hands seek out his hair and tug harshly at his locks. Letting out a growl, Yunho placed one hand on the the pool wall for balance and the other on my back, drawing abstract shapes there.

Yunho moved to my other nipple, giving it the same treatment and smiling when he heard my moans. In a flash he removed his hand from my back and pressed me against the pool wall, his hand now traveling to my panties.

As he removed the final item of clothing he ran a finger over my clit, giggling to himself. I gave him a look and he clarified, “Babe, you’re wet enough to fill an entire swimming pool.”

I groaned, pressing my head into his chest, “You make that same god awful joke every time we come here.”

“And as such I couldn’t let tradition die.”

“Shut up and fuck me.” I laughed, promptly helping him out of his boxers.

He continued to tease me after, switching between playing with my clit and stretching me out with his long fingers. By the time he finally gave in, I was a whimpering, pathetic mess, begging for more.

As he aligned with my walls he looked at me with delicate eyes, “Ready, little flower?”

I nodded quickly, chanting ‘yes’ over and over. Yunho once again placed a hand on the wall and hooked one of my legs over his waist, allowing him to thrust deeper inside me. He held my hand with his free one, a simple action that always melted my heart. Despite how long we’d been together, I would always get overwhelmed by him so easily. Everything about him exuded such a strong aura that sometimes just the smallest kiss would leave me breathless. The first time we were intimate he took his hand in mine and assured me he would be gentle, and every time since he’s held my hand. It wouldn’t feel right without our hands together.

“Shit—it’s been way too long since we’ve done this.” I said as he snapped his hips into mine, quickly repeating the action.

“God I know.” He let out a pained groan at the thought of it, “Four months is gonna be fucking awful without you.”

“Guess we’ll have to make do with what we’ve got now.”

“Guess we will.”

The sounds of water splashing and the echos of our moans, a symphony I had become so familiar with, was gradually reaching its crescendo. It was getting harder to keep my eyes open but I forced them to be, needed to memorize everything about this moment. The sweat dripping down Yunho’s forehead, the tattooed muscles he was flexing, the sounds and praise he was emitting, and pleasure we were both feeling--I wouldn’t see nor feel this for the next four months.

A particular snap of his hips had me seeing stars and I called out to him, letting him know I was close. Within minutes, both of us were panting and reeling from our highs. Yunho pressed his nose against mine and both of us closed our eyes, enjoying each other’s presence.

“How come every time we come here it ends in sex?” I giggled.

He blinked and moved a strand of wet hair out of my face, “Because you’re hot and barely wearing any clothes and no one’s around.”

I blushed at his compliment, “I mean like I’m not complaining or anything.”

A cocky smile formed on Yunho’s face, “Well it certainly didn’t sound like you were a moment ago.”

“Yunho!”

The man laughed, lifting me up and spinning me around in the pool before cradling me in his arms.

“I hate to say it, but we do need to head back. The world awaits for us, I’m afraid.”

I sighed, pressing into his chest, “I’m gonna miss you.”

He stilled as he pulled me closer, “I’m gonna miss you, too. You don’t have to miss me yet, though.”

“I know.” I swallowed, wishing I had something more to say.

“Come on, then.” Yunho gave me a quick kiss, “Let’s head back.”

Yunho held the front door open for me, giving me a gentle slap on my ass when I walked through. I turned around and gave him a playfully annoyed look, which he only laughed at.

As we walked towards the living room, the sound of a random sitcom filled our ears. Six heads turned our way after hearing our footsteps. Seonghwa was resting his head against his long-time girlfriend. She was a sweet girl and complimented him more than any woman I’d seen him with. They really were soulmates, if they ever existed.

San was sitting holding hands with a man he’d been interested in for awhile. I’d often see him flirting with various men and women, but he never went any further than that, too afraid of commitment. This man; however, seemed to breaking through San’s walls. I really hoped they would work out, San deserved someone as kind as him.

Wooyoung sat across from the them, who acknowledged us first.

“Hey guys. Have fun?” Wooyoung asked, smiling at my soaked hair. He had his arm around a woman I’d never seen before and I was certain that none of us would ever see her again. He had the reputation of a playboy, and every poor woman thought they’d be the one exception, the one to make him stay. I’m sure the allure of being a drummer in a band was part of his appeal, too. Maybe one day, like San, he’d settle down.

The woman became visibly upset when Wooyoung looked me with a teasing glance. Feeling sympathy for her, I decided to do my best to calm her nerves.

I spoke for us, linking hands with my boyfriend. “Yeah, we did. I think we’re gonna go clean up though.” I looked at the woman, “I’m y/n, by the way. I’m Yunho’s girlfriend.”

She didn’t even try to hide the relief on her face. “Oh! I’m Solar. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah,” Wooyoung started, “Best girlfriend he’s ever had. Much better for him than Lucy.”

Yunho glared at the man, “Thought we agreed not to bring her up?”

Lucy, the woman Yunho dated before me, was arguably the scariest person I’d ever heard about. They dated for roughly three months before she became obsessive, to the point where Yunho had to get a restraining order against her. She threatened to hurt all of Yunho’s friends and family, all because she wanted Yunho all to herself. That was about all Yunho ever told me about her. Not that I complained. I didn’t exactly want to discuss his exes, even more so when they were that crazy.

I never told him, but I knew I saw her the first date we went on. I could see the way her piercing, ice eyes saw through me. I had no doubt it was her. I just hope I’d never see her again. Maybe now that she saw he was taken she’d leave us alone. There was an uncomfortable silence following, none of us knowing what to say until San spoke.

“You look like a wet dog, Yunho.” San joked, prompting laughter from a few of us, which seemed like more of a noise of relief rather than one of actual humor.

“Yeah, yeah.” My boyfriend relaxed his shoulders, “I think we’re gonna head in for the night so don’t make too much noise.” Waving them goodbye he caught up with me, placing a hand around my waist.

“Shower with me, doll.”

I placed a hand on his chest, “I would love to.”

I came out of the shower wearing my favorite large shirt of Yunho’s, drying my wet hair with a towel. The smell of chlorine had gone away for the most part; whatever chemicals the owner put in that pool always made the smell harder to get rid of. Only a small price to pay, I figured.

My boyfriend, who was much quicker than I was, looked up from his phone as he was splayed out across his bed. His tired eyes smiled at me while motioning me over. Yunho’s own hair was still drying and with his bare face and crooked smile, he was as handsome as he could ever be.

“Hey there.”

“Hey, sweetheart.” He reached an arm out to me, pulling me against him when I took his hand, “How ya feeling?”

“Tired.” I hummed, sleepily smiling against his neck.

“Too tired to listen to the song I wrote for you?”

“No! Not at all.”

Yunho chuckled, slowly brushing my hair aside and turning his head to look at me. As he had countless times, he took a breath before he turned to me, beginning to sing.

“You give me fireworks

I’ll give you the kindest words, my dear

Your love caught me

The moment I met your eyes

And how could I not fall?

Your heart bared, no disguise”

I fought to stay awake although his melodic voice seemed to be lulling me to sleep. I felt myself losing consciousness, but managed to catch the last few lyrics he sang to me.

“Now I sunbathe in the daybreak

Half asleep, half awake

Writing this song

As I hope I’ll dream of you”

Yunho brushed his fingertips brush against my face before he spoke, “Goodnight, flower.”

I muttered some form of a “goodnight” before I felt sleep take over me, nuzzling happily against my boyfriend.

I woke up in a panic, unsure why my heart was beating so fast until I looked at the clock. Eleven in the morning. I was an hour later than I should’ve been at my job. It seemed that even unconscious my body knew I was late.

“Oh shit I’m gonna be late for work!” I spoke with wide eyes.

Jumping from Yunho’s bed I stripped myself of his shirt and quickly threw my clothes on. The body that laid beside me stirred, moving the covers aside.

“Are you leaving?” He asked sleepily, his face puffy from sleep and an adorable pout on his lips.

I frowned, “Yeah. I’m sorry we didn’t get to spend more time together, babe.”

He shook his head, “Don’t worry about it. Both of us slept in.”

I tied my hair back, sighing. I was so caught up in my thoughts I almost missed Yunho’s question.

“Sorry what was that?”

He smiled, “You’re coming to our going away party tomorrow, right?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I moved back to the bed and hugged him, feeling my heart sink. I was proud of him, I really was, yet couldn’t help but feel sad that I wouldn’t see him for so long.

This was the longest tour they’d ever gone on and we’d never been apart from each other that long before. I trusted him and I was confident in our relationship, but realistically, all members of Sidekick Heart were attractive young men and a good portion of their fans were female. I was far more concerned about the female audience doing something than I was about Yunho making a move on another woman.

With one last squeeze of his shoulders I pulled back, goodbyes beginning to fall from my lips before Yunho pulled me back.

“I need a goodbye kiss.”

I pressed my lips together with a smile, gladly indulging him. Giving him one last kiss against the lips, I bid him farewell until the following day.

“So how was work?” My roommate asked as I walked in the house, propping her feet up on our couch and tossing a kernel of corn into her mouth, the lighting of the TV illuminating her blanket-covered body.

I sighed, sitting down on the floor next to her, “Other than being an hour and a half late and missing an important meeting I think it went okay. I’m just glad the day’s over.” Rubbing a hand over my face I turned to her, “What about you? How was your day?”

“Pretty damn good actually.” She smiled, removing the blanket and showing me the new ink on her upper arm. It was an assortment of flowers and matched her bubbly personality perfectly. They were now the fifth adornment on her beautiful dark skin, each one of them tempting me more and more to get a few of my own.

“Another one already, Tiff?”

“Listen, you’ll know how addicting they get as soon as you get your first.”

“You sound so confident that I will.”

“Oh I know you will. You’re dating a rockstar, after all. Not to mention he’s the goddamn lead singer and has tattoos of his own.”

“Shut up.” I giggled, “Speaking of, are you coming to the farewell party tomorrow?”

“I plan on it, but I’ll probably be there a couple hours late. My dad’s flying into town for the weekend so I plan on visiting first. I’m definitely coming though.”

I hummed, “Yeah, don’t worry too much about it. We all know it’ll go till sunrise anyway.”

She let out a loud laugh, likely remembering the last party of theirs we went to where she ended up more drunk than I’d ever seen her. She claims she remembers flashes of the night; playing strip beer pong and being dared to steal one of the neighbor’s bushes—which, after much convincing from those who were sober, she decided against it—but didn’t recall half of the hilarious memories of her the rest of us did. Personally, my favorite was watching her hold a tomato soup can and cry over the fact that it could never have children.

Tiff let out a yawn as she stretched her arms above her head, turning in my direction. Her words were muffled by her yawn as she spoke, “Imma go to bed now. You good before I go?”

I smiled at her, “Yeah I’m good. I won’t stay up too much longer, just need to go through my nightly routine of looking at the stars, ya know, the usual.”

She nodded, wrapping the blanket around her and heading to her bedroom, “Sleep well, babe. I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

“Back at ya.”

It was a habit of mine, gazing at the night sky before sleeping. It gave me comfort knowing that out there, somewhere, there was something else out there with me. Almost like I wasn’t going through everything alone.

I set my purse down when I reached our kitchen, reaching for a tea pot and tea bags, brainlessly brewing my favorite tea as I thought of what Yunho might be doing right now. It was probably most likely that he was practicing for their tours, but I could only hope he was getting a little bit of rest.

I stepped out onto our porch to look at the stars with a cup of tea in my hands, the night sky twinkling with all the stars it could offer. A slight breeze rustled my hair and I closed my eyes, thankful for the pleasant weather. I heard a sudden snap of a branch and my eyes quickly opened as I searched out property for any sign of an aggressive animal. My eyes finally landed on a human-like figure. Feeling adrenaline run though me, I decided to confront whoever or whatever it was.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” I spoke, my voice loud but not quite a yell.

The figure took off it’s hood to show their face, and I saw a familiar pair of ice blue eyes, though I hadn’t seen them in years, “I’m here to see you, of course.”

My brain quickly connected her to the woman I hoped I’d never see again.

Lucy.

“Well I don’t want to see you. Leave.”

She pressed a hand to her chest, feigning offense, “But I came all this way! Just to...say hello.”

I took a step towards her, hoping that if I appeared confrontational she would leave me alone. “I don’t know who you are, now please leave. I’m not going to say it again.”

“Oh, you poor girl. You really think you have the upper hand?” She pulled out a knife, and walked towards me at impressive speed, pointing the weapon at my throat. “I know you’ve been seeing Yunho. I. Don’t. Like. That.” She emphasized every word of the last sentence, anger woven within her voice.

I wanted to fight back. Everything in me was screaming to fight back, but I knew I had no chance. I had no idea what she was capable of, and I didn’t dare to find out.

“I dated him first and he’s still mine. You’re going to break up with him, you hear me?” She screamed in my ear, the sound shaking me to my core, “I never want to see you near him again.” She grabbed my jaw harshly, forcing my eyes to lock with hers. “I bet he doesn’t even love you.”

My eyes watered. I knew she was wrong, but with the adrenaline coursing through my veins and the harshness of her words I began to doubt myself.

Her grip tightened and I let out a yelp, “He loves me and I love him. He’s always loved me, not you. Why would he ever love a thing like you?”

She then threw me to the ground, towering over me, “Break up with him. Make him hate you. If you don’t,” She squatted down next to me, once more pointing the knife at my throat, “I’ll kill him myself and make you watch. Then,” She cocked her head, a crazed smile plastered on her face, “I’ll kill you. If I can’t have him, no one can.” She stood, smirking at me, “And you know I will.”

She kicked me in the stomach, watching as I crawled into myself, groaning from the pain. I closed my eyes, hoping she wouldn’t hurt me any more than she already had.

“I’ll be watching you at the party tomorrow. Do it then. Break his heart. I’ll kill him then and there if you don’t.” She looked down at me and scoffed, “And I’ll be bringing friends to make sure the job gets done.”

I carefully opened my eyes to see her stepping over me, walking back into the darkness from which she came. I scrambled back into my house, hyperventilating from the interaction I just had.

I spent the night crying, not able to sleep even for a minute. I tried to think rationally, but there were just too many variables. How many ‘friends’ was she bringing? Would she really kill Yunho in front of everyone? Where would she be watching me from? Is she watching me now?

I could text or call Yunho to let him know, but where would we go from there? He’d want to meet me and she’d kill him instantly. Right?

“Maybe I could pull him aside at the party and warn him?” I murmured to myself, “No, she could probably see that. Maybe there’s people actually at the party who are looking out for us, too.” I covered my face with my hands and fell back into my pillows, weeping as I knew I had to break up with the love of my life.

Choosing to wear a yellow dress honestly couldn’t have been more ironic. Yellow was supposed to be a happy color. A color of hope and yearning, innocence and warm days full of laughter. It was the complete antithesis of how I felt and what I knew I had to do. Even worse, the weather was perfect. It was sunny, but not so much to make it unbearable outside. Everything about today made my insides twist.

I took a breath at the door of Yunho’s house, bracing myself for what I had to do. Knocking a few times I heard a commotion inside before the man I came to see opened the door. His smile had never been bigger.

“Baby!” He cheered, pulling me into a bear hug and ruffling my styled hair, “I’m so excited you’re here!”

He looks so ecstatic. And I have to break him.

The thought crushed me and brought tears to my eyes, but I couldn’t let him die. I knew she was serious, I didn’t doubt that for a moment. I grabbed Yunho’s arm, pulling him outside and away from everyone in the house.

I looked at the ground as I felt my lips begin to quiver, “I’m sorry. I just need to get this over with.”

Yunho bent down to meet my eyes, “Hey, hey. What’s going on sweetheart?” His voice was gentle, one of his hands coming to rub the tears from my face, “I’m here for you, whatever it is.”

I looked down, unable to look him in the eyes. I hated myself more than I’d ever hated anyone. “I don’t love you, Yunho.” My hands began to shake beyond my control, my own body knowing I was making a mistake.

“W-what?” Yunho’s voice cracked. A moment of silence passed before he let out a hollow laugh, “Baby, you don’t mean that-”

I looked up at him and immediately wished I hadn’t. Tears were welling in his eyes, his own hands beginning to shake.

“I said I don’t love you Yunho!” I said louder than I intended, “Not anymore. I don’t want to be with you. I’m sorry.”

He took a step back and I noticed his hands clenching, something he always did to keep himself from crying.

“If that’s what you want,” Tears fell from his eyes before he finished his sentence, “Then I’ll support your decision.” He looked to the side, not knowing what else to say.

I wanted nothing more than to throw myself in his arms and explain everything, tell him that I’ve never stopped loving him, not even for a second, but I couldn’t. Instead, I wiped away my tears with the back of my hand and looked at him one last time. He was so fucking handsome, so goddamn kind, and here I was doing this to him. Maybe he did deserve someone better.

“Good luck with your tour, Yunho. I know you’ll be fantastic.”

I turned and walked away from him quickly, leaving the house and ignoring the stare I could feel on me. I ran across the yard to my car, starting the engine and leaning my head against the steering wheel. I felt myself lose all oxygen in my body, the only option left to take large gasps of air. My vision was so clouded by tears I couldn’t even see anymore. I’d just lost myself along with my other half. I’d never felt as empty as I did in that moment.

Just then I heard a knocking on my window. I half-hardheartedly lifted my head and felt my heart lurch. Yunho was standing outside my car, eyes red and puffy, looking at me like I was the last person he’d ever see. I opened my car without thinking, my breathing still as uneven as before.

Yunho spoke, his voice coarse and distant, “I’m not asking you to change your mind, but I need you to know that I have always loved you and I always will. That will never change.”

I wiped the snot from my nose but didn’t bother to try and fix the mascara I knew was streaming down my face. I knew I had to look horrible, but he still held so much love for me that it was easy to see in his eyes. I fought myself to not reply, knowing that if I’d open my mouth all I’d say was ‘I love you’ over and over again.

“Is it too out of line to ask for a last hug?” He smiled sadly as more tears poured from his eyes.

I shook my head, running into his arms and embracing him. I felt like I made a mistake the moment I did because I could smell him. He was wearing the cologne I bought him for his birthday. His warm, sturdy chest...everything about him felt like home.

“Goodbye, Yunho.”

I arrived at home alone, tears still stinging my eyes. Tiff was nowhere to be found and I couldn’t decide if I was thankful or sad for the fact that she wasn’t there. I barely made it out to our porch before collapsing once again, finding it harder and harder to breathe. I didn’t know how long I was sitting there, it could’ve been one hour or three, but given the setting sun it looked like it was the latter. Once more I heard a noise outside our home, and once more the female figure appeared before me.

“You did good,” Lucy said, twirling her knife in her hands, “Dare I say I’m proud of you.”

“I don’t ever want to see you here again.” I cried, “I did what you want now get the fuck away from me.”

“My, my. You have quite the mouth on you, don’t you?” She tsked, “But you did as I asked, so I might as well comply. Don’t; however, think that you can go crawling back to Yunho and tell him about this. I’ll keep watching you and if you decide to do just that...I’ll follow through with my promise.”

I kept my eyes on the ground, convinced that if I looked up at her I’d attempt to rip the hair out of her head. No anger I had ever felt before could surmount to the rage I was feeling.

“Nonetheless, it was a pleasure doing business with you, miss.”

As soon as she came, she was gone. When I finally let myself look up, I could no longer see her, only darkness. Once again, I was alone.

Six months had passed since I broke up with Yunho and today officially made the third new date I’d went on. All of them were absolutely horrible. It wasn’t even that the guys were mean or rude or weren’t attractive, they just weren’t him.

Why am I even trying to move on?

I looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes looked heavy, the bags under my eyes ever prominent. I couldn’t fool myself. I’d never be able to be with another man again. I forced myself to hold back tears and reached back to untie my hair, preparing to take a bath in hopes that it would take my mind off of things.

I began to run the warm water as I reached for several candles, lighting them and placing them around the room, trying to forget the entire day altogether. As I waited for the tub to fill I grabbed my phone, opening Instagram for no other reason than to have something to do. Although Yunho and I broke up, I still followed their band account, as well as their individual accounts. Seonghwa, San, and Wooyoung were still my friends, after all. Yunho was the only exception. Both of us unfollowed each other early on just because it was too painful. I didn’t hold it against him and hoped he didn’t hold it against me either.

Regardless, my eyes found the most recent post on Sidekick Heart’s account. All four members were shirtless, their hair dripping wet with goofy smiles plastered on their faces. They were standing by a pool, the same one Yunho and I would often break into. I noticed Yunho first, how could I not? His smile wasn’t as wide as the other’s, his eyes a bit colder, but he looked happy all the same. He looked good. Really, really good. He was always fit while we were dating, but he gained more muscle since I last saw him and it didn’t go unnoticed by their fans, either. I clicked the comment section against my better judgement, knowing what I was going to see before I even did so.

“Yunho looks like a fucking goddd”

“So Yunho’s still single right??”

“Yunhooo hmu I beg you”

“Jesus Christ Yunho break me please”

A surge of jealousy rushed through me. I hated when girls said those things when we were together, but now that we were apart it made it even worse. I had no right to be jealous, and that was the worst part.

The water reached my leg that was resting on the side of the tub and I scrambled to turn off the faucet. Doing my best to push the images from my mind I placed my phone aside and stripped from my clothes, settling in the water. I sighed as some water fell out of the side of the tub. It wasn’t a terrible thing to happen, but it seemed to just be another thing to go wrong.

My eyes wandered back to my phone, Instagram still open and the picture I was looking at earlier still on display. He was so fucking hot and seeing that he was standing next to that pool—our pool—made my brain short circuit. I couldn’t stop my thoughts from taking me back to the last night we broke in, the way we teased each other and how it inevitably led to sex. It seemed I had no control over my body as my dominant hand slipped between my legs.

But as much as I wanted it to be, it wasn’t the same. My fingers weren’t as long or slender as his and just nothing about our touches were the same, but the image of him just made my hormones rage. Every ounce of me craved him.

My fingers swirled around my clit, a bundle of pleasure shooting through me at the action. I closed my eyes, letting my body take over and repeat the motions and much as I fought not to, my brain kept replaying scenes of two of us again, and again, and again.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” Yunho spoke as I sunk down on his dick, barely finding the energy to lift myself up again even though the noises he made were like shots of espresso.

“Aww, is my baby getting tired?” He cooed, jerking his hips into mine.

“It’s not fair!” I whined, “I’m not good at this and you know it.”

“But we wouldn’t be a good couple if we didn’t encourage each other to work hard, right? Up you go, flower.”

I whimpered and pouted, but still obeyed him. Taking pity on me, Yunho grabbed my waist and lifted me, relaxing his grip as I moved downward. I made a noise that wasn’t understood by Yunho, but it didn’t go unnoticed.

“What was that?”

“Please. More. I need you so bad.” I begged.

Yunho laughed, “I really do have you wrapped around my finger, don’t I?”

I nodded before remembering that he’d probably prefer a verbal answer, “Yes. I’m w-wrapped around your finger.”

He let out a noise of satisfaction before flipping us over into a position so that he would have full control. I grabbed the bedsheets roughly, so much in my own world that I didn’t hear Yunho’s words.

“What was that?” I let out with a series of mewls.

“You’ve got me wrapped around your finger, too, you know? I don’t go an hour without thinking about you anymore. I can’t even have a single conversation without bringing you up. Anytime someone says your name my heart beats out of my damn chest. You’re the only woman for me.”

My legs shook as my high approached, barely able to breathe at it’s intensity. It took me a minute before I could even remember where I was. As I came to my senses, I felt tears biting at my eyes and this time I didn’t bother to hold them back. I watched as they streamed down my face and joined the now-cold water surrounding me. I brought my hands up to cover my eyes, glad Tiff wasn’t home to hear my wailing. She’d been good about staying with me since the breakup, but tonight she just wasn’t here. The hole in my heart felt even deeper now. I wondered if he found someone, if he was happy now. Hell, maybe it was his ex. The thought tore my heart out and ripped it in two. I wanted to be happy for him if it was true, but I just couldn’t be. I was still too selfish. I still wanted him to love only me.

New friends, new beginnings or whatever.

That’s apparently what I thought when I began attending more clubs at college after the breakup, meeting new people and eventually finding a really solid friend group. All who happened to really like punk-rock music.

“You should really go with us,” Shang directed his words at me, “There’s a new band popping up that’s playing this weekend. It’s three hours away but they have great music.”

I sighed, not fully convinced although it did sound fun. The last concert I’d been to was one of Yunho’s and though I hadn’t even seen him in what felt like forever, I still couldn’t help myself from thinking of him anytime someone talked about concerts. Sensing my apprehension, the woman beside me spoke up.

“Road trip! Road trip! Road trip!” Tyra chanted in my ear, her black curls bouncing with her as she clapped her hands between the words. “Come on, it would be so much fun and you know it.”

I bit my lip, deep in thought. I knew I would have fun but I just didn’t know if that would outweigh the pain I would feel.

“What’s the band name?” I asked, looking at Shang.

“Honestly?” He scratched the back of his head, “I was a little drunk when I told one of my friends I’d be there so I don’t even remember what they’re called.”

“How do you know they have great music, then?” I laughed, Tyra agreeing with me, apparently not knowing who was playing when she agreed either.

“I mean, my brother listens to their music and he’s got good music taste so they’ve gotta be good.”

I closed my eyes as I felt an oncoming headache, knowing they wouldn’t accept no as an answer. “Fuck it.” I stated, “I’ll go.”

The two cheered, Shang promising that I’d enjoy myself. I doubted it, truthfully, but really it was decided that I’d go the moment the pair brought the idea up to me.

Our trio waded through the giant crowd as the doors opened to let us into the venue. It was big, one of the larger concerts I’ve been to. Whoever we were seeing was successful, for sure. The volume at which everyone was speaking was essentially a yell, so I had to do just that to get my messages through.

“I still can’t believe we have no fucking idea who’s playing!” I yelled at Shang.

He laughed, “I got seats towards the front row, though! I didn’t even have to pay for them!”

“That’s not gonna matter if we don’t know any of the lyrics, you dipshit!” Tyra barked.

“Okay okay I should’ve asked, I get that now.”

As we found our way towards the seats, there was a big projector with the words ‘Sidekick Heart’ displayed across it. My heart dropped and I suddenly felt it become hard to breathe.

“You got us tickets to a Sidekick Heart concert?” Tyra beamed, “I love their music and I’m practically in love with San! His vocals are insane! Holy shit, Shang!”

“Ohhhh yeah I remember now.” He chuckled.

I seemed to fade into the background as the two of them discussed their love for the band and the members. All I could think about was seeing Yunho again.

Would he see me? How would he react if he does?...Does he hate me?

I only came back to reality when the audience began to cheer and I saw all the members step onto stage. Seonghwa cradled his electric guitar, in one arm, waving at the audience with the other. Wooyoung plopped down behind the drum set, smiling at the audience while twirling a drumstick. With his bass guitar, San, ever the king of expressions, gave his best smoulder to the audience and it seemed like the audience collectively screamed over him. Then came Yunho out to center stage, his electric guitar in his hands and a smirk on his face as if he knew everyone in the damn building wanted to fuck him. And he’d be right. The spotlights on each of them made them look like actual gods. If I didn’t know them personally I would have thought they were.

Yunho leaned into the mic, his gruff voice taking me by surprise, “Hello everyone! Great to see you all! If you haven’t been to one of our concerts before this is how it’s gonna work: You’re gonna dance, we’re gonna sing, we’re all gonna have a fucking great time tonight!”

The crowd erupted as the first song began to play. It was one of their more popular songs and for good reason. All over it was a really well put together song and I couldn’t help as I began to mouth along to the words. Song after song played, some I knew some I didn’t, and the entire time I couldn’t look away from the man singing. He radiated confidence and looked relaxed as if he’d been performing for decades. I knew he wasn’t as cool as he seemed, I’d given him so many pep talks before performances I couldn’t count them, but as an outsider you’d never know.

I wonder who talked him up this time?

“Alright everyone. This is the last song of the night and-”

The audience booed, everyone upset at the night coming to a close.

Yunho laughed. The sound was rich and beautiful. He was truly enjoying himself. This is what he was meant to do, with or without me. I closed my eyes, willing myself not to cry.

Yunho’s voice filled my ears. “I know, I know. I’d love to stay a bit longer, too. Here’s the thing though...” He paused and I opened my eyes only to see him looking back at me. His eyes automatically softened as they always did when he saw me, but as if he remembered how we ended his gaze hardened slightly, like he was trying to distance himself. It felt like we’d been looking at each other for hours before he opened his mouth to speak again, but I knew very well that my perception of time had been off for a while.

“Even if we only have this little time left, I’ve truly enjoyed the time we’ve spent together. The fact that it’s coming to an end soon is what makes it so special, I think.” Yunho broke eye contact with me, smiling slightly and glancing back out at the sea of people. “Seeing your smiling faces, your energetic cheers—all of it—is a reminder to me that we’re so lucky to be doing this as a job. Really...I love you all.”

The audience let out a chorus of ‘awws’ which was followed by several rather aggressive ‘I love you too’s.

The lead singer once more smiled, “Now, without further adieu, this is one of our newest songs and it’s called Brown Eyes, here it is.”

The music began to play, all instruments coming together to make a somber tune. Somehow they were always able to write music that perfectly encapsulated emotions or ideas. This one? Loss.

“Since you left you’re still so infused

In how I think and what I do

Can’t seem to get you to leave me alone

Your ghost stayed here and she watches my tears

That run down our picture frames”

Then he found me again in the crowd, no doubt able to see the tears staining my makeup, no doubt able to see how broken I was. And still, he sang.

“I’ve tried hard to fight it

Yet I keep givin’ in

There’s been no one but you

I’m trapped, confined

And your platinum smile still knocks me out

Every single time”

He kept eye contact with me, not once breaking his gaze. It was almost as if he wanted me to break first, as if he wanted me to look away before him. As if he was daring me to leave him again.

San stepped closer to his mic and took his eyes away from his bass guitar, Yunho’s voice being replaced by the purple-haired man. As his voice rang out I only could’ve hoped the next lyrics were about one of San ex’s, not me. Even if they weren’t, Yunho still looked at me.

“It’s not aimed at me

Maybe it never was

But oh darling, you could’ve fooled me”

My eyes flickered down, unable to look at Yunho any longer. His gaze only broke my heart further and in turn I felt my eyes water. After a moment or two, I worked up the courage to look back at him. He was still looking at me like he never moved his eyes. I couldn’t seem to register the lyrics until Yunho began to sing again, his voice drawing me in as it always did.

“You've disappeared without a trace

Left an unsuspecting guise

Love, I need you to know

I’ve been losing far more than sleep

Over those deep chocolate eyes.”

As the song and the show ended and everyone in the crowd cheered, I felt a rush of emotions run through me. Thrilled that they’d become so successful, proud of them for putting on such an amazing show, and hurt because I could still see a sliver of sadness in Yunho’s eyes.

I hurt him.

Yunho then reluctantly said his goodbyes to the audience along with the rest of the members. His jaw tightened as he walked over to Wooyoung, whispering something in his ear before walking off stage. Feeling like I was set in a trance, I grabbed my Tyra’s arm and mumbled something about going to the bathroom before following him. I completely ignored her questions and concerns about where I was going, dead set on talking to him again even though I didn’t have a damn idea what I was going to say.

Somehow, through the giant maze of people, I was able to spot Yunho leaving through the backstage. Instinctively I ran towards him, still having no plan in mind. I only stopped when a purple-headed man appeared before me.

“Y/n!” He smiled, bringing me into a hug, “I missed you so much!” He pulled back from me, “We all did.”

Seonghwa and Wooyoung came from behind me, both wearing sad, kind smiles. They looked healthy and happy, which was all I could’ve asked for them.

“How’ve you been, girl?” Seonghwa cocked his head, genuinely curious.

I hesitated, not sure if I should tell them the truth. But at the end of the day, they were still my friends. “Not...great. If I’m being honest. I was kinda hoping I could talk to Yunho...if I could.”

They all shared a look I couldn’t understand.

Wooyoung spoke up, “We’re having a party at a friend’s house after this, you should come.”

I was surprised, still not fully understanding the situation.

San frowned, “I think it would be good for you two to talk. He didn’t tell us too much about what happened, but I’m sure you had a good reason. You were always so good to all of us.”

“I can text you the address if you’d like,” Wooyoung added, “You still have the same number?”

I nodded.

“Okay, good. We need to get back but we’ll see you there. Take care, okay?”

“I will. Thanks guys.”

San pulled me in for another hug, “Of course.”

They waved as we parted ways and for the first time that night, I felt hopeful. I spotted Shang and Tyra and ran up to them, no doubt a smile on my face as I asked, “Soo...you guys up for a party?”

I ditched my friends the moment we arrived, barely even sparing a word with Seonghwa, San, and Wooyoung once they nudged me in the direction of Yunho. I didn’t try to think too much about it, knowing I’d explain it all to them later.

He was standing in an empty bedroom, looking at the floor and sipping out of a red cup which likely contained liquor. When his eyes met mine a rush of memories flooded back to me. The first time we kissed, the first time he confessed he loved me, the first time he saw me cry.

The first time I broke his heart.

His eyes raised to mine, his face stoic, “Enjoy the show?”

My mouth opened and closed, not having any clue what to say to him, “Yunho I-”

“I know why you did it.” He said suddenly, “A week after you left me Lucy showed up to one of our shows and tried to convince me it was all a coincidence. Said that I could finally be with her. When I didn’t buy it she finally gave in and told me she convinced you we were better apart. So naturally I called the cops and they arrested her for breaking the restraining order, thank god.” He shook his head, looking disgusted, “You know I never wanted us to be apart. My question to you,” he took a step further towards me, “is why did you do it? Why did you end us?”

When I couldn’t seem to respond he talked once more, “You could’ve told me what she was trying to do. We could’ve worked it out together.” He looked more disappointed and heartbroken rather than angry.

He doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve any of this.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Yunho.” I bit my tongue as I fought back tears, “I’m not asking for you to forgive me. I-I’m just-” I sobbed, “Lucy told me she would kill you if I kept dating you.”

Yunho’s mouth shut and eyes widened, clearly missing that bit of information. I took it as my cue to continue “I don’t know why she did it, but it’s probably because we were happy.”

More tears fell down my face and it became harder for me to talk, but I owed him the truth. I had to tell him the truth. I looked up at him but because of my tears my vision was blurred. Yunho’s hands were tightening into fists as he looked away from me.

“I couldn’t tell you because I had to protect you so I had to make you hate me and I’m just so sorry.” I fell to the ground, my body feeling as heavy as my heart.

I felt a warm hand on my shoulder and I brought my eyes to meet his own, “I’m sorry.” A tear streamed down his cheek, heavy remorse in his eyes, “God she’s fucking awful.”

A laugh got caught in my throat, “Yeah she is.”

He set his cup down somewhere along the way a his hands cupped my face, finally whispering the words I’d only heard in dreams, “I still love you so fucking much. I never stopped loving you. I never even tried to stop because I know I couldn’t.”

I jumped into his arms and kissed him hard, unintentionally knocking him to the floor. He met my lips with just as much fire, groaning when I unconsciously bucked my hips into his, all my sexual frustration still pent up.

“I missed you so fucking much.” Yunho growled, obviously feeling needy too but deciding against it as he wrapped his arms around my waist, speaking in between kisses, “I missed your cute laugh. I missed your lips. I missed your fucking awful jokes. I missed the way you’d look at me whenever you told me you loved me. I missed your gorgeous body and your smile. I missed your moans and the way you arched your back when we’d have sex. I missed how alive you made me feel.” He pulled back to look at me, “My life had no purpose without you.”

I took a breath, tears once more falling, “Mine didn’t either.” It wasn’t anything profound or emotional, but it was the truth. It didn’t.

Gently picking me up, he placed me on the bed. His eyes were raw, as emotional as they could ever be. Taking my hands in his, he looked at me as if I would disappear at any minute.

“Stay with me. Come with us on the rest of the tour. If you can’t take a vacation we’ll hire you as an assistant. If you can’t do that we’ll make some other kind of accommodation. Just stay, please. Please be mine again.”

I looked at the man in front of me. The tough-looking, six-foot tall, tattooed, strong man that could probably scare the shit out of anyone. Yet here he was, bearing his heart to me and being as vulnerable as a person could be.

I smiled, feeling my heart swell. “I’ve only ever been yours.”

The morning was bright, lighting directly hitting my eyes. I cursed myself for not closing the blinds the night before and blinked off my sleep when I heard a familiar pleasant sound.

Jumping down from the bed I put on the new fluffy bathrobe my lover bought me. I followed Yunho’s voice out to my porch, realizing I was listening to a new song of his. The man was strumming a guitar, a beautiful melody falling from his lips. When he noticed me, he smiled and continued to sing.

“I’m in a vivid yellow mood

You’re my muse, my home and room

And now that I have you again

What could I ever fear?

Oh do me a favor, dear

And inscribe your name on my sleeve

Let me keep it there forever

Because you’re better than any daydream.”

#ateez #kpop #imagines #ateez au #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez smut #atzinc #fluff #ateez yunho #rockstar au #yunho au

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

Text

into you - tom hardy smut

The one where you help him read his lines and things get slightly out of script

Warnings: smut, no foreplay, unprotected sex

A/N: This was another Hardy request I received not so long ago. I ended up going with a PA again 🤷‍♀️ Also, I think I might end up investing in these banners more than those moodboards for my fics, lmk what y’all think 🤔The moodboards just take forever to make and these last few I’ve made were simply terrible, in my opinion 😂

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“You in there, love?” The smile on my lips was instantaneous, the last traces of sleepiness vanishing from my face like the man appearing through the trailer’s door was some kind of super powerful, instant coffee. I knew at least the side-effects from withdrawal were much the same.

“Where else would I be?” I joked, still busying myself with cleaning a bit around the room as I waited for him to take off the coat that was a part of his character’s characterization. Tom just grunted, checking himself in the mirror like he still couldn’t believe in the power of cinematic make-up before glancing in the direction of the shower.

“You say it like you got nowhere better to be.” Was this a joke? He knew it was the truth, he had to be saying this just to tease me. Still, it was better to join in than to make this a bigger deal that it was, so I just snorted.

“You say it like you don’t know you’re the best company ever!” I mocked in a fake girly voice, giggling at myself after I reached the end of the sentence. I’d also finished with the general clean-up and I gave myself a nod as a recognition for my efficient work, before finally meeting my boss’ eyes.

“Careful, sweetheart. When you say stuff like that I only end up falling deeper.” A wink was sent in my direction, and stupidly, my heart skipped a beat at the sight of the man who was supposed to be my boss - and nothing else - joking about being in love with me.

It was moments like these that showed me regardless of how strongly I tried to shove it away and push it to the farthest corners of my mind, I was still falling deeper and deeper for him with each passing day I spent in his company.

“I have to go take a shower, wash this make-up off me. You’ll still be here when I get out?” Like he said, I had nowhere else to be, so I just shrugged, letting my body fall on the couch while releasing a deep sigh.

“I guess. You need me for something?” When he didn’t immediately answer me, my curiosity was picked, so I raised my gaze to find him leaning on the threshold of the bathroom’s door, shirt already off and a boyish smile on his lips.

“I always need you, sweetheart. But I was thinking about maybe running some lines, are you up for that?” All I could do was nod, mouth suddenly too dry to do anything else as I watched him enter the bathroom and close the door behind him. Images of what it must be like in that cramped room, the fog slowly relaxing his muscles as he let his jeans drop to the floor before curling his thumbs in his boxers and then…

I needed to stop.

Tom’s P.O.V.

Fuck. I knew I should find it in me to turn the water to a cold temperature, but the warmth just felt so good against my tired muscles and it was becoming clear that not even the frigidest of showers would be able to stop my cock from hardening, not while she was still right there, behind that door, waiting for me, looking like that. God, how could she not know what she did to me?

Three years I’ve waited. Three years. Trying to see any sort of definitive sign that she was as into me as I was into her. Because, since things in my life could never be easy, the woman I ended up falling for worked for me. And as much as I wanted her, I could never find it in myself to be that guy who just ends up screwing someone’s lives because of his own egoistical wishes.

If I revealed my interest in her and she didn’t reciprocate it, there was simply no way for us to keep working together like this. My heart couldn’t handle it and I’d never want to make her uncomfortable in any way.

So I just waited and waited and waited for the perfect opportunity that always seemed to slip through my fingers. And in that time, we only grew closer and closer. A P.A.’s job is already quite dependent on having a tight connection to the person they’re supposed to assist, but we were just so damn similar. And it seemed like she just understood me - beyond the needs of her regular day-to-day tasks - on a profound level, from my wicked sense of humor to my fears and anxieties.

It was really no surprise that we had become as close as best friends. She was the person I trusted the most now, even with the stuff I wouldn’t regularly confide to a personal assistant, and I knew the new nature of our once strictly-professional relationship was easily apprehended by her, too.

It only added a new layer of difficulty for the mess we’d found ourselves in, a new bond I could easily destroy if the resolve I had so cautiously built came crumbling down. But now that the cracks had appeared, it was only a matter of time before it all became clear and I was left with whatever came of it. So I decided to take a stance.

“You ready?” I asked, once dried and with loose and comfortable clothes that allowed me to relax even further after such a stressful day on set. This was it. This was the moment of truth. I was really going to do this.

“Sure. Can you throw me the script?” Oh, right. I looked around the now (thanks to her) tidied trailer to locate the little brochure right over the mini-fridge, offering it to her on the correct page.

“There you go. You sure you don’t have anywhere else to be? We might be here for a while.” If things go according to plan, I thought but didn’t voice it, although I was surprised that she couldn’t hear how loud my heartbeat had gotten in this cramped space.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Positive,” I confirmed, not looking at him as I took advantage of the excuse of becoming familiarized with the words I’d have to speak. “I’m yours for the night.” I don’t think I would have realized just how… different these words could sound if it wasn’t for the silence that followed. But when my head whipped up and my eyes met his, panic undoubtedly very clear in my expression, all I got was, “I need you to listen to this and listen carefully, because it is my heart that speaks directly to yours.”

For a second, I just blinked, completely confused about what was happening until suddenly it dawned upon me. Right, the script. I glanced down once more to check my line before reciting it, “Speak if you must. I don’t know what you could possibly say that would erase this mess you’ve made.”

Fuck. I’d forgotten this movie had a pretty intense romantic storyline. I hadn’t been on set for any scenes other than the action sequences, so it’d completely disappeared from my mind that this was a possibility: that Tom would ask me to rehearse love scenes with him.

All I could do now was pray that my heart would come out of this unscattered.

“I need you to know that I want you, in more than one way - in more than the expected way. I want you as more than a friend and maybe as more than a lover too.” Once again, I was dumbfounded by the words that left his lips, uncertain of what to do. Those weren’t the same words on my script, they weren’t the ones I was expecting to hear.

“I need you to know that I need you, in more than one way - in more than the traditional way. I need you as more than a friend and maybe more than a wife too.”

Like it knew something was about to happen, my heart sped out of control, and I tried to force my hands to stop shaking as I licked my lips and took a moment to breathe. “Are you… Are you sure that’s the right line?” I managed to ask, but all I got as a response was a small, almost shy smile.

Tom didn’t do shy. This felt different.

“Can I touch you?” He asked. That wasn’t in the script either. And somehow, everything in the universe seemed to click into its rightful position because somehow, right then, I just knew.

“Yes.” It came out more as a whisper than anything else, but in a second his hands were on me, one on my hip and the other on my hair and I could just barely comprehend that this was about to happen when his mouth descended upon me.

His kiss was everything I thought temptation would taste like and it consumed me like nothing else. Chapped lips pried mine open and at the touch of his tongue on mine, my knees faltered, but he was right there to keep me up.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted you.” I don’t know if I shivered because of the feeling of his warm breath against my lips or the words in itself. I just knew I suddenly felt warm, really warm, like something was burning me from the inside, and I was desperate to take him with me.

My eyes traveled up his body until they reached his own, both of us breathing hard against each other. I could feel his fingers gripping my hips tightly, and just that small gesture of possessiveness was enough to have a whine threatening to escape my throat.

“Yes,” I breathed out, lost in his gaze. “I want you too.”

Apparently, that was all he needed to fully let go of his control, mouth desperately tasting mine before abandoning it to litter kisses all over my jaw, down my neck until he stopped to suck a bruise on my throat, like some sort of ownership sign that he was anxious to leave on me. I was struggling to even catch a breath, but somehow managed to bury my hands inside of his shirt, clawing at his back with each new nip and suck that he gave me.

When we finally parted, the first thing he said to me was, “Can I take this off?” while playing with the hem of my dress and I’d never heard Tom that needy before. It almost felt like he would be the one whining any second now, and the thought that he could truly desire me that much had my head swirling.

I’d barely nodded in response and he was already pulling the fabric over my head, discarding somewhere in the tiny trailer. I couldn’t care enough to look for it right now, too preoccupied with the way his eyes explored me, hands immediately reaching out to get rid of my bra, too.

“Take off your underwear and sit on that couch.” It felt like an order. “Spread your legs for me.” That definitely was one. And I wasn’t stupid enough to disobey it.

Although still trembling with the anxiousness that came from the unpredictable turn of events I was living through, my body felt electrified by his gaze, by his obvious desire for me. It wasn’t hard to follow his command, even if some part of me wanted to feel at least a bit shy about being completely naked while he remained fully clothed. But the tortured groan he let out after I completed the task and exposed myself to him made it clear I’d done the right choice by abiding by his wishes.

“You’re so fucking hot.” Well, I felt hot under his burning stare, so it seemed appropriate. Still, I had to ask, since it seemed like I was about to lose my damn mind, “Then why are you just staring?”

Tom’s P.O.V.

The question, that barely hid the eagerness behind it, made me smirk while I approached the trembling little body waiting for me on the couch. “I fucking knew it,” I teased, kneeling before her and delicately tracing her jaw with one finger. “I knew you weren’t any innocent little angel.”

The look she gave me from under her eyelashes almost had me second guessing what I’d just said, but I knew better. Raising to my full height, my fingers made quick work of my clothes before I wrapped a fist around my member, slowly jerking myself to the sight of her naked body.

“I knew you were perfect for me even on this level.” She licked her lips as her eyes kept following my movements, and I panted at the clear sign of desire when she reached out to grab me. “No, darling. I can’t control myself much longer and I still need to prepare you.”

When I made a movement towards her, sitting by her side on the couch, I was surprised to see her close her legs before I could reach out for her, quickly climbing on my lap with as much eagerness as I was exhibiting myself.

“No, no teasing,” she pleaded, wet and warm cunt grinding against my hardened member as she wrapped her arms around the back of my neck.

“I don’t want to tease, I want to prepare you,” I tried to explain as I reached out to grab her arms, holding them between us instead. She pouted, clearly fully intended to guilt me into skipping foreplay, but I didn't want her to regret this later, even if she still asked this while clearly knowing just how big my cock was. “The night’s still young, baby. We have plenty of time to get acquainted with our bodies.”

I nibbled on her earlobe as I tried to convince her, but she wasn’t having it. That much became clear as she continued to grind herself against me, before saying, “I don’t want you to prepare me, I want your cock in me. I want it to hurt.”

A shiver went through my spine at her words, temporarily freezing me. And that was all the time she needed to pull her hands from mine and take my cock in her own grip, quickly aligning it with her hole before starting to descend back to my lap again.

“C’mon, Tom,” she tried to snap me out of it. “Fuck me hard. Show me just what I’ve been missing.” Those words, paired with the feeling of her tight pussy beginning to ride me, had me breaking out of my control in a second.

“Fuck, you’re hot,” I growled before taking a hold of her hips and quickening her movements until her breasts were bouncing right before me. “I should have known you’d be a little cockwhore, huh? I’m gonna fuck you against every wall of this trailer before fucking you on top of each and every piece of furniture. Let’s see if you’ll still be hungry for more when I’m done with you.”

The moan she let out at my words had my cock twitching inside of her, fingers pressing tightly on the soft flesh of her hips as I struggled to keep my composure and not spill myself inside her tight walls so damn soon.

“You’re so fucking wet, even without any foreplay,” I absentmindedly commented, and while it seemed like she wanted to say something, maybe explain herself, the way I was ramming into her clearly stopped any sane words from leaving her lips. It was only a mess of moans and whimpers, until suddenly, a single word came out, clear as day, at least to my own inebriated mind and hard-as-a-rock cock.

“Holy shit,” I cursed, throwing my head back as I grabbed her ass to keep her riding my cock. “Moan my name again. Moan my fucking name, Y/N. Don’t you dare keep it in.” It seemed like my command was unnecessary. She screamed my name like it was the only thing she knew how to say as I felt her pussy milking me for my cum, her own orgasm taking over her.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

As soon as I was able to breathe again, his hand was forcing me down to meet his lips again in a desperate open-mouthed kiss. “Such a good girl for me,” he whispered, still fucking himself up at me, and the overstimulation was so delicious I squeezes his shoulders to keep my whimpers in, scared that he’d slow down. “I imagine you like this so many times.”

Giggling, I wrapped my arms around him while I resumed my previous movements, riding his dick with all I had, determined to feel him spill inside of me. “Is it anything like you imagined?”

He just groaned, squeezing my ass and letting his head fall back on the couch before admitting, with lust-filled eyes that looked up at me from his eyelashes, “It’s so much better. So much better than just jerking off to the thought of you.”

His words, the raspiness of his voice as he uttered them, had me clenching around him, and ultimately, that’s what brought him close to his own orgasm. “Can I cum inside of you?” He asked, fingers squeezing my hips tightly as he took full control of my movements in his need to get to that pleasurable end. A nod from me had him finally there, cumming inside of me as his entire body freezed, immobilizing me on top of him, too.

“What about now?” He asked, barely able to stay awake as his fingers traced circles on my hips, eyes closed while I did the same, resting on his chest. “Can you still stay?”

Laughing, I pulled away just enough to deposit a quick kiss on his lips before readjusting myself back to my previous position. “Positive,” I repeated, thinking back on just how much had happened since the last time I said that word to him. “I’m right where I need to be.”

#tom hardy smut #tom hardy #smut #my fics #tom hardy requests #tom hardy reader #tom hardy x reader #tom hardy reader insert #tom hardy reader inserts #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy oneshot #tom hardy oneshots

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shimeiro · 4 years

Text

Hero ( Savage Opress x Fem!Reader )

Savage Opress x Fem!Reader

( A / n : Okay so here's a pretty long fanfic that I wrote in a few days. Savage is really perfect for my size kink so enjoy! ) (( and sorry for the mistakes ))

Warnings : Fluff, Protective!Savage, sexual tension, inappropriate comment and gesture ( not from Savage ), mention of abuse, SIZE KINK OF COURSE, and... SMUT ( so +18 ), large and tattooed cock, Oral ( f ), unprotected sex, explicit sexual content.

Words : 6582 ( oh god )

Savage Opress is a Zabrak warrior, tall and also very strong and most of all intimidating, his scowl does not make you want to come and bother him. That's what you told yourself the first time you saw him in a Cantina full of unsavory people, everything about him inspired fear but yet deep down you found him so beautiful, his yellow skin deliciously covered with complex black tattoos, his ivory horns and his eyes, Stars... his eyes.

His beautiful yellow eyes, almost golden, were hypnotizing and you were speechless when he looked into yours eyes, his expression was neutral the first time he saw you, not scornful or anything, just neutral, yet you were just a simple waitress working in a shabby Cantina that mostly took in local criminals but he didn't look at you in a lustful or mean way like most customers here and it was... Nice.

☆────────☆

Here you are speechless in front of a huge man with biceps the size of your head, he could easily break your bones if he wanted to, but that's not what makes you forget your words, no, it's his bewitching golden eyes surrounded by red.

You let out a trembling breath while he observes you without any real emotion, the neutral face of all expressions but his eyes seem to say something completely different, they seem intrigued by your almost angelic form in such a dirty place.

"What do you desire, hum sir? "You finally manage to say after long seconds of fascination, you feel your ears warm when you realize that you have just stared at a customer, you could have been killed for less than that here, you realize that too late.

« I’m… I'm sorry I was just um... I mean- »

« A glass of water. » He interrupts you with his deep voice before you make an even bigger fool of yourself, and above all he doesn't seem to want to kill you and you sigh with relief inside you.

« Yes, of course, I'll get that for you. »

You quickly run out to get his order so as not to make him wait too long and not to risk upsetting him, or simply to quickly get back to him and hear his intimidating and yet so attractive voice again-...

Kriff, you really need to calm down.

He's just a client, yes he's just a very intriguing and seductive client but... Ok you're hopeless.

You close your eyes for a few moments to come to your senses, it's the first time you've ever reacted like this to someone and it's very strange, your heart is racing and your cheeks are warm and most certainly red.

You open your eyes again and take a look at his table and-

Stars.

He looks at you, you the poor waitress visibly upset by this tall, very tall Zabrak, your cheeks get even hotter than they already are and then after a moment of hesitation you walk over to his table with a kind little smile on your lips hoping he doesn't think you're crazy or something.

His eyes don't leave your form as you approach him and it's really intimidating, your smile fades a bit, has he understood that you feel a strange fascination/attraction for him? Oh you hope not, it would be so... so embarrassing.

You finally arrive in front of his table, put his glass in front of him and shyly smile at him. He looks down briefly at the glass filled with water, grabs it with his huge hand that completely encompasses glass and you find it oddly endearing, your hands must surely be tiny against his.

« Thank you. » He says after a few moments, raising his eyes towards you, you repress a shiver when you hear again his strong and deep voice.

« you're welcome- »

« Hey my pretty, brings me my usual order! »

Oh.

He was Rico, a regular, he's always very interested in you a bit too much but you can't complain, you really need this salary, which is really not much but it's all you can get at the moment.

« Yes, I'll be right there. » The Zabrak looks at you one last time and gives Rico an indescribable look, and you bring his order to the man you unfortunately see often, you force yourself to smile politely but not more so that he doesn't get the wrong idea, but of course, as always, it doesn't stop him from...

Slap.

Here we go.

This so humiliating slap on your buttocks, as usual, and of course it doesn't seem to shock anyone... You lower your head, ashamed, then you move a few steps away from this disgusting man who is watching you with a lustful look that isn't even hidden.

You then hear heavy footsteps approaching you and Rico, you gently look up and it is the Zabrak that stands in front of you and dominates Rico from its full height, you don't see his expression but it seems frightening enough for Rico to move his chair a few centimeters away. At the same time what sensible person would not move away from this huge man when such a threatening aura emanates from his body.

Wait... Does he really protect you from that old guy who takes a malicious pleasure in embarrassing you every time he comes?

« Hey buddy, is that your girlfriend? I swear I didn't know, she didn't tell me every time I do it... »

You move a little from the imposing silhouette that protects you to see Rico's panicked face, you would almost laugh at his frightened look if you weren't afraid of the way things are going.

« Because you do that a lot? »His voice has dropped an octave to be more intimidating than it already was and he doesn't reject the assumption that you are his girlfriend, oh Creator the warmth of your cheeks and the tips of your ears because of those simple words is so embarrassing.

Silence has fallen on the Cantina, everyone is staring at the altercation, you are swallowing with difficulty and you are getting a little closer to your savior's back, he seems to feel it, he glances over his shoulder to see your shape curled up next to him, You observe him with big eyes and you feel him relax a little, then he looks back at Rico who opens his mouth and closes it again to try to find out what to answer, but it rather makes him look like a fish out of water.

Not seeing him answer the Zabrak bends down a little and puts his big hand on the table which makes it shake a little on impact and makes Rico shake as well.

« I advise you to leave and never come back, understand 'buddy'? »

« I- Yeah... Yeah. »

Rico throws a few credits on the table and then almost runs away and everyone goes back to their occupations, you let out a sigh of relief and your savior turns around to observe you, his threatening aura has now completely disappeared and he seems almost shy now, it's really ... Cute, but of course you'll never tell him.

« Thank you… »

« Savage, Savage Opress. »

« Savage. »

He nodded his head at the mention of his first name and you shyly smiled at him when you told him yours, he slowly repeated it too and it made your heart tremble a little when you heard it.

☆────────☆

After that day he often came back to this shabby cantina, sometimes after a long time of absence but he always came back to have a glass of water that he never drank, he became more relaxed and eloquent with each visit and you would find yourself waiting impatiently for his arrival.

But one evening your boss asked you to manage the closing, which you obviously accept because you do it often and it doesn't really bother you to come home late, you don't live very far so you don't risk much in the end, finally even if you always go home apprehensively when night falls because the drunks or shady men who are always trying to approach you are out at that time but you walk fast along the brightest streets and once you get home then you lock yourself in, for safety because your neighborhood is not the safest for a young woman at night, but you have no choice but to keep working even if it means coming home late.

You sigh at the thought and the last customer ends up leaving, you greet him with a polite smile, then you turn off some lights and you approach the door to lock it but a big hand holds it when you are about to push the door, a big hand with yellow skin with tattoos.

Savage.

You open the door with a little too much haste and you come across a large, slightly curled up figure and you hear a heavy breathing, that's when you see him holding his left side with his other hand.

« Savage you're hurt!? »

Your worried voice makes him blow with amusement, you learned that it was his way of laughing.

« Maybe slightly. »

« Come quickly inside, I'll see what I can do... »

You catch the hand that doesn't hold his wound and it makes you both freeze for a few seconds, it's the first time you touch each other, his hand is big, rough and very warm, your little fingers can't wrap his hand completely and it makes your heart beat harder in your chest.

You look at each other like this for a few seconds hand in hand and then you pull yourself together, pull him inside and make him sit down on a chair, he doesn't whine in pain or anything he keeps his eyes anchored on your little shape, rushing to get the first aid kit.

« You... Can you take your hand off please? »

You see him nodding his head and then he takes his now bloody hand away, you hold your breath for a moment when you see the cut and then you get serious, this is not the time to lose your temper, Savage needs your help.

Savage needs your help...

« Okay... I'm going to have to take your top off so I can clean your wound and see if it's deep or not. »

You raise your head to see his face, he is neutral as usual and you take this as a chord to continue, you then place hesitant hands on the bottom of his garment and gently lift the fabric, you feel the almost suffocating heat of his body against your palms, and this makes you swallow with difficulty.

After long minutes of struggling to remove the garment without causing your friend Zabrak too much pain, you finally manage to remove it and you now find yourself face to face with the extent of his muscular and tattooed torso, stars you would really like to trace the ink drawings of your finger...

Okay stop.

You take a long breath and get up to pick up wet cloths to clean up all the blood staining her skin, you approach and kneel down again in front of him and this time it is him that you hear blowing and you look up at him and you see pupils more dilated than usual, probably pain. Yeah, pain.

You clean the cut silently with lots of cloths and when finished, you inspect the wound carefully and you push a sigh of relief, it's not deep and not so extensive it just bled a lot, so you don't have to stitch it up or anything, a simple bacta patch should be enough even if he'll have to watch out for it not to get infected, which you explain to Savage who just nods his head, you didn't hear much of the sound of his voice today.

You carefully place the bacta patch on the wound and gently caress it so that the wound is well impregnated with the product, Savage's breathing is blocked and you look at him worriedly.

« Does it hurt? »

« Not really. »

He watches you with slightly squinted eyes, his yellow irises shine in the light darkness of the empty room, which gives an atmosphere of semi-darkness that envelops Savage and you, but his gaze makes him look like a predator and yet you are not afraid of him even if he dominates you more from his waist in this position.

« Not... Really? What do you mean ? » You finally ask in an almost inaudible voice.

« Let's say it doesn't hurt or feel good... It just doesn't do anything to me anymore. »

You lower your head over the scars that litter the yellow pieces of skin and you can't even imagine all the scars covered with black ink, Savage Opress has obviously not had an easy life and that breaks your heart.

Without thinking you bend down and press a chaste kiss on the patch covered wound, Savage exhales suddenly and then he lets out a hoarse grunt when you look at him after that.

His pupils are really dilated now and you hadn't noticed that he leaned towards you until you felt his warm breath against your face.

« I wouldn't do that if I were you little girl, I'm a monster and I might hurt you. » His voice is low, slightly hoarse and his eyes, Stars his eyes are so sad.

Your eyes widening at his words, is that really what he thinks of him? Is that what others call him? It makes your heart ache so much.

You put your right hand on his cheek and it seems to catch him off guard, but he doesn't back down.

« You're not a Savage monster. »

« How can you be so sure? »

« Because that day when that guy touched me without my consent you intervened, he had done it many times before but nobody had ever intervened Savage, you are the only one who protected me. »

The Zabrak growled at the mention of Rico and then calmed down when you rubbed your thumb against his warm cheek.

« And for that, thank you Savage Opress for being my savior. »

He huffed with amusement at your words but added nothing, instead he came even closer to you and put his forehead against yours, your heart missed a beat at this gesture.

His eyes remain open to observe you with indescribable emotions, you close your eyes and your cheeks get warm and so do the tips of your ears, fortunately it is rather dark because otherwise he would see how red you must be. Then he pronounces your name in a voice so soft that it makes you shiver.

« You deserve to be protected by someone - I mean - I'm not saying you're weak or anything… »

You laugh softly, Savage a strong warrior who loses his words, it is so endearing and it melted your heart of adoration towards this tall man.

You hear his frustration and you decide to open your eyes to see him with an anxious and hesitant look, but he still continues his sentence after a few seconds:

« I would like to be that someone. »

Silence.

Stars.

You swear your heart stopped beating for a few moments, and now you don't know what to say.

Seeing your lack of response, a sudden pain passes into his eyes and he slowly moves away from you, he takes your wrist and removes your hand still on his cheek.

He misinterpreted your silence.

« Oh no Savage I- I really wish you were that someone. »

He freezes himself while still holding your wrist in his huge hand, then he analyzes your face for any kind of lie and comes closer to you again when he sees none.

« Leave this planet with me »

He releases your wrist saying these words in a shy voice, you then put your hand back on his cheek and lick your lips which have become dry because of all these emotions, he lowers his gaze to your lips and then he comes back to your eyes and you feel him exhaling for a long time.

« I’d really like to go with you, but maybe it's a bit ... Fast? »

Savage doesn't say anything he simply looks down, thoughtfully, because he knows deep down inside that you are right, he has lost his temper because of the surplus of unknown emotions.

Your cheeks turn red, again, in on this massive man who has become so vulnerable to you, he lets you touch him and heal him, you suspect that he has never known this kind of affection and that is what makes him so confused now and that pensive pout on his lips really makes you want to kiss him, but he clears his throat and starts to get up.

« Maybe I should leave, you were closing. »

« Oh, um, yes… »

He puts his top back on slowly without your help and you feel a little pinch in your heart at his sudden change of behavior, you would like to stay with him again but he is right: you have to close.

You try to hide your disappointment as best as you can by putting the medical supplies in their place and putting the bloody towels in the sink to start washing them, it might take a while before the pieces of cloth are completely cleared of blood.

« You can go, I'll clean it up. » You tell him from behind the bar and start cleaning the cloths with cold water.

Savage finishes adjusting his top when he turns towards you, his gaze quickly shifts from you to the door, you see him frown, rather his browbones, because he doesn't have eyebrows like everyone else of his kind. After a few moments he comes closer to you again and dominates you with all his height but you find it strangely comforting as when he had protected you from Rico by standing in front of you.

"I'll take you home, it's not safe for you to go home alone at this time. »

"Mmmh I don't live so far away and I wouldn't want to bother you-"

"It doesn't bother me. »

He crosses his arms on his chest and you can see his biceps becoming more imposing under the fabric of his garment, you swallow as you imagine his strong arms holding you against him.

"But Savage... »

"It's non-negotiable, I'll wait for you outside. »

You don't even have the time to say something that he walks out with heavy and confident steps, you smiling slightly then you continue to wash the tea towels as quickly as possible so as not to make him wait too long, you don't want to abuse his kindness.

☆────────☆

The night is rather cool and you feel the wind passing through your thin jacket, you shiver and you unconsciously get closer to Savage because a soft warmth radiates from his body even with the layers of clothes that cover his skin, he glances at you while walking near you, after another shiver that crosses your body he places his big arm around your shoulders, it's heavy and as you had noticed: it's very warm.

He brings you closer to his unharmed side and his warmth deliciously envelops you, you still huddle a little bit against him while walking towards your home.

« You're so... Warm, is that normal? »You ask shyly, maybe he has a fever because of his injury? Oh you really hope not.

« Yes, my species has a higher body temperature than yours. »

« Oh, so you don't have a fever, it reassures me. »

« Fever? No I'm fine don't worry little girl. »

"I'm not a little girl - it's you ! you're just ... too tall! »

You feel his shoulders trembling in a silent laughter and that makes you laugh too, he serves you gently against him in a gesture that wants to be playful and it makes you blush slightly, you raise your head to look shyly at his face and to your amazement a small smile stretches his lips, you feel your heart tightening and a soft sensation fills your body.

You don't have time to admire Savage any longer because you find yourself in front of the door of your somewhat dilapidated and not really welcoming building.

"We... We have arrived. »

You reluctantly pull yourself out of the Zabrak's embrace and walk to the front door of the building, he says nothing but you don't hear him move, he must surely be waiting to see that you get home without incident, even you both know that nothing can happen to you from there. But as you turn around to say goodbye you hear yourself instead ask:

« Do you want to go upstairs and get a glass of water? »

You freeze.

You both know what this phrase means and it is far from innocent. Your cheeks warm up and your hands nervously grip the fabric of your jacket.

« Uh- No... I mean- Yes but- »

« Okay. »

You freeze a second time and look up at him, his head is bent to the side as he watches you, his golden eyes shine even more than before in the Cantina.

« What? »

He blows with amusement and that relaxes you a little.

« I said : Okay. »

You whisper something, more for yourself than for him and then you turn around to type in the code quickly to unlock the door and then you push the door and signal Savage to come in first, which he does without really judging the state of the building you live in.

After that you lead him to the landing of your apartment and unlock the front door, as before you tell him to go in first as a courtesy and it's quite funny to see him lower his head to be able to enter without banging his forehead against the top of the door frame.

You close the door once you are both inside, you turn on the light as you pass by and let out a trembling breath when you see him in your personal space, he has his back to you and he observes the small objects on a shelf in front of him, your small apartment doesn't really have any decoration because in the end you are there just to sleep so you don't really see the point and you don't really have room for more furniture, your double bed already takes up almost all the space in the piece, a double bed is a luxury you have granted yourself because you like to have space to sleep peacefully.

« I’ll get your drink for you. »

He nods his head as he turns in your direction, while you walk to the "kitchen" which is actually just across the room, you pull a glass out of the cupboard then you look into the small fridge to take the last bottle you have left in the fridge and pour it into the glass, your hands shake a little for no apparent reason -perhaps because of the sexual tension between the two of you-.

You go back to Savage and hand him the glass you have just filled for him, he takes it and his hands touch yours, his eyes look at you attentively while you stand still in front of him with your head tilted back to look at him as well.

You both know that the glass was a pretext for you to stay together a little longer.

Savage takes a sip of water and then he puts the glass in an empty spot on the shelf hanging on the wall next to him, and your breath is blocked as he brings his body a little closer to yours, the tension between the two of you is palpable and you don't know what to say anymore, words get lost and intertwine in your head.

« Little girl? »

« ..Yes? »

You see his gaze descend to your lips and you moisten them with your tongue, you hear him blow, then his eyes come back to yours with an undisguised desire.

« I really want to kiss you. »

« Me too... Kriff, me too. »

He pushes a hoarse grunt then he bends down and his lips fall on yours with all the force of repressed desire, you push a light moaning to the soft and warm contact of his lips and you pass your hands on his broad shoulders while putting you on tiptoes then try to deepen this kiss so much awaited.

These strong arms wrap around your waist to press you against his hard and warm chest, his tongue comes close to your lower lip and you open your mouth eagerly, the kiss starts to become intense but you have to withdraw to breathe.

His breathing is fast and his pupils are almost fully dilated with desire, this expression on his face and his slightly swollen lips make him beautiful, it makes you want to engrave this image of him in your mind forever.

You lean back towards his face again but this time to "innocently" nibble his lower lip, a kind of surprised rumbling comes out of his throat and makes you laugh inside, you feel his big hand squeezing your hip.

« You're playing a dangerous game... I don't know if I'm going to be able to control myself if you continue. » His voice is low and hoarse, his shoulders are tense, he's obviously trying to restrain himself from throwing himself at you.

« So don't control yourself Savage. »

Your simple words seem to break something in him, he shudders and then lifts you off the floor as if you weigh nothing at all, you shout, a little surprise and place your arms around his neck to stabilize yourself, he then gently places you on your bed still undone from this morning then he steps back to remove his heavy boots and he also removes your shoes and socks and throws them nonchalantly into a corner of the room.

He then flues on the mattress to come and place himself above you, making the bed squeak under his weight, you hasten to put your hands on the warm skin of his neck and then on the back of his nape to attract him back to you for another kiss to which he responds immediately by leaning against your body, taking care not to put all his weight so as not to crush you.

You let out a little moan when one of his big rough hands passes under the fabric of your top, he caresses your belly tenderly while his lips let go of yours to come and kiss your jaw then the sensitive flesh of your neck, his touch is soft and comforting, it almost makes you forget the heat that accumulates between your legs.

And you are suddenly too hot because of the clothes you are wearing and the higher temperature of the Zabrak against you, so you squirm a little as you try to take off your jacket, you hear Savage giggling quietly and he straightens up to help you remove the annoying pieces of fabric leaving only your underwear.

He bends back far enough to be able to admire the curves of your half-naked body, he makes an almost animal growl as his golden eyes scan your exposed skin, then you see him move his hips uncomfortably, you look down and-

Oh.

It looks absolutely huge.

His throbbing erection pressed against the fabric of his pants is already intimidating so you blush when imagining him without -which you might see very soon-, you feel a burning desire accumulating in the bottom of your belly and this moistens your panties by the way, you breathe a panting sigh as you rub your thighs together to try to reduce the pain of desire, it's the first time you've ever felt so excited by someone, he barely touched you but yet here you are as needy as a animal in heat.

Savage freezes, stopping the movements he makes to try to relieve the pressure against his hard limb, he sniffs the air avidly like a wild beast that has felt a wounded prey nearby, a hoarse moan escapes from his throat as his gaze descends on your moving thighs.

« …I feel your excitement. »

You don't have time to respond to his statement that his hands are already on your thighs and he quickly spread them apart, you make a surprised gasp that turns into a moan of pleasure when his face rushes between your legs and he licks a large band on the thin cloth that covers your sex while planting his black look of desire in your eyes that you close when his hot tongue falls hard against your swollen clitoris, you arch your back to the electrifying pleasure it arouses, your hands hasten to grab his horns as he continues his teasing against your panties now completely wet with his saliva and your excitement.

« Please, Savage, take off my... »

He hums with approval still nestled between your legs, then he steps back to remove your panties and your bra which he then throws on the floor and without waiting a second longer he plunges his face between your legs again. His celestial tongue avidly licks your smooth and swollen folds by going up from time to time to tease your clitoris, he closes his eyes to fully enjoy the taste of your excitement while you sigh of pleasure has the exquisite sensation that his mouth gives you and that quickly brings you closer to the edge.

His massive hands squeeze your trembling thighs to hold them in place as he sucks your bundle of nerves hard, you let out a strangled scream as your orgasm hits you violently, your walls tighten around nothing and he continues to suck your clitoris to prolong your pleasure as much as possible and then he licks all the moisture caused by your coming while moaning with happiness as if he finally drank a glass of water after walking all day under Tatooine's crushing suns. He finally backs off when you make a moan of protest as his hot tongue brushes against your hypersensitive clitoris. His lips and chin are covered with your excitement, you make a moaning sound at this sight.

« You have an exquisite taste, I could devour you like this every day sweet little thing. »

« Why not, but before that I need you- please. »

You see him swallowing, his Adam's apple coming up in the process, he quickly wipes his face and then eagerly removes his top without worrying about his recent injury and you are about to tell him to be careful but the words get stuck in your throat when he climbs up to your height to kiss you fervently his tongue hurrying to meet yours and you taste yourself in the kiss, which makes it more exciting in addition to his impressive erection pressing against your thigh.

You run your hand over the warm skin of his torso and then over his well-defined abdominals avoiding the bacta patch you placed on his wound earlier in the evening, Savage shivers with the sensation of your soft little hand touching his skin with such delicacy, the delicacy he has never experienced in his life.

He then exhales noisily against your lips when you finally touch his erection still painfully confined in his pants, his hips instinctively roll against your hand and you begin to make small movements back and forth on his circumference, he seems to lose patience with your deliberately slow strokes but he does nothing to stop you so you take advantage of this to place wet kisses against his cheek, jaw and then his neck that you begin to nibble in a playful way. He clenches his fists against the sheets of your bed, holding back from tearing his pants and penetrating you violently. But he doesn't want to hurt you so he prefers to suffer your sweet torture.

You don't want to make him wait any longer, so you free his cock from his restraints.

He pushes a faint sigh of relief and then he completely removes the tissue of his muscular legs and you widen your eyes comically at the sight of the impressive size of his hard cock also tattooed like the rest of his body - Stars, you can't even imagine the pain of getting tattooed at this sensitive spot -, he must at least be the size of your forearm and also the width, you shudder just by imagining him completely inside you.

He looks at your reaction with half-closed eyes, lust darkening his gaze. But even with his burning desire to fuck you now, he takes the time to ask you in a slightly shy voice:

« Are you sure you want this? »

« Yes I do. »

« Are you really sure? »

Without further ado you grab the base of his hard cock and guide it towards your needy entrance. Savage's grunt echoes against the walls of your apartment, can surely be heard from outside but you don't care, you just want the massive Zabrak deep inside you. He puts his warm hands on your hips and he starts rubbing his head of his cock up and down on your slit, teasing your swollen clitoris as he passes by, making you moan in the process.

He gives you one last look to give you time to stop everything, -which you obviously don't do- and then he starts to penetrate you gently, giving you time to get used to his circumference little by little. You moan in unison as he sinks down to the guard, he is so deep inside you, your sensitive walls stretch to their maximum to accommodate his huge tattooed cock, it's painful yes you don't want to lie, but the desire you feel for him sweeps away all the discomfort. Savage closes its eyes for a few seconds enjoying the sensation of your tight pussy, then he looking at you again and it lowers its gaze to where you are intimately connected.

« You take me so well sweet little girl. » His right hand comes to press gently on the bump of your lower belly that his cock deeply buried in you creates, you both moan again has the sensation.

« You- you can move Savage. »

The hand always on your belly he begins to give small strokes of hips so as not to hurt you, your breath is cut off when he touches a place that makes you see the stars and you grab his broad shoulders.

« Faster - faster! Please… » you managed to say between jerky breaths.

He grunts darkly and clutches your hips strongly to take a faster pace, his blows are deep which makes you moan strongly, completely ecstatic. The wet noises of his skin slamming against yours are so obscene, and Stars you love it. He leans against you, his burning torso flattens against your chest and in his movements his skin rubs your hard nipples. You make a little scream surprised at the new sensation and you feel closer and closer to the end, your walls tighten like a vice around his sex and this makes your companion Zabrak moan, he puts his head in your neck and bites hard the soft flesh, the pain mixed with his cock that quickly sinks into you and his pelvic bone that comes to hit hard against your clitoris full of excitement make you momentarily lose the use of your sight and hearing.

You come harder than ever before and feel your moisture flowing down your inner thighs, your nails dig into Savage's shoulder skin and he shivers, his blows become irregular and you feel his cock throbbing inside you as you gently descend from your state of pure ecstasy.

« I’m near- where... »

« Inside, don't worry... just fill me up Savage. »

He moans your name with a last blow, sinking deep inside you, then you feel the jets of his warm and thick seed filling you to the brim, you feel so full and satisfied at this moment that you sigh with contentment as you lovingly caress the base of one of the horns behind Savage's head, gently bringing him down from his state too. He nestles his nose in your neck, his sex always buried inside you, not letting a drop of his precious semen escape from your pussy -pure mating instinct-.

« I love you. » Savage's voice is soft against the skin of your neck, your heart is warmed by the words spoken by this man who deserves all the love of the universe. You tenderly caress his neck with a smile, tears of emotion forming in the corners of your eyes.

« I love you too. So much. »

He straightens his head, his golden gaze filled with adoration for you is planted in your watery eyes, he places a large warm and comforting hand against your cheek and then begins to caress it tenderly with his thumb. After a few moments of admiring each other, Savage lowers his face to come connect his lips with yours, kissing you slowly and full of emotion.

After long, tender and loving kisses you feel a wave of fatigue hitting your body and he seems to feel it too so he rolls to the side next to you, taking his cock reluctantly out of the inside of you making his semen flow out of your hole, that makes you shudder, feeling his thick semen flowing along you and then on the sheets already covered with a wet stain caused by your own excitement. Savage gets up then goes into the bathroom, you look at his large muscular and tattooed back as you pass by. You hear the tap water running, then it stop after a few moments and then he comes back with a small wet towel in his right hand.

« Let me clean you up. »

He starts to run the wet towel against your still swollen and a little sticky folds of your fluids, you hum with appreciation to his kind gesture. Your tall Zabrak is actually so caring with you, it makes you fall even more in love with him. After that he carelessly throws the towel on the floor joining your clothes and then lies back in your bed. You approach him to wrap yourself in his warmth to protect you from the cold air that starts to cool the thin layer of sweat on your body caused by your sexual intercourse. He puts his big arm behind your back to draw you even closer to his body, you put your head on his chest and you hear two hearts beating, another peculiarity of his species.

You begin to drowsy to the melody of his hearts beating in his chest, but you hear Savage whispering shyly to you:

« So... you are going to go with me? »

The uncertainty in his voice hurts you, he doesn't want to lose the only being in the universe that has given him affection for the first time in his life. You put a kiss on his chest to reassure her and it seems to relax him a little, but he's still waiting for your answer.

« Of course, how could I live without my hero by my side? »

He puff, while relaxing completely, he caresses your back tenderly when he feels you start to fall asleep, your breathing becoming regular he mumbles to himself:

« Yes, your hero. »

#Savage Opress #savage opress x reader #savage opress x you #no y/n #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars reader insert #star wars the clone wars #fanfiction #smut #fluff #I love savage opress #savage opress smut #star wars smut #reader insert #ugh i love it #size kink #big boy savage is so cute #sorry not sorry

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questionsonislam · 3 years

Note

Islam is said to provide happiness in both worlds. How can we explain the fact that most Muslims poor and in need?

Like in the past, happiness and welfare are frequently confused today. And it will probably go on in the future.

Some people think that wealth, rank, fame, luxury and position are the same as happiness. However, they see many people around who have everything and are able to taste every worldly pleasure, but who are yet unhappy. Some cannot get on well with their spouses. Some complain about their sons mischief. Some seek cure for deadly diseases of their mothers. Some try to collect the money they lent to other people. Some have problems with their company partners.

Thousands of problems like those teaches man continuously that this world is a not a place to have comfort.

Divine words in the Quran say:

Every soul must taste of death and We try you by evil and good by way of probation; and to Us you shall be brought back. (Surah of Anbiya/The Prophets, 35)

So, this world is a place of testing and trial.

Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) defines the world as the arable field of the afterlife in a hadith.

This world was not created as a place of comfort but a place of testing and the field of the hereafter. People continuously work hard and sweat in this testing field. All human beings sow their fields every day in order to reap in the hereafter.

Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) says in a hadith: There is no rest (comfort) in this world.

How is it possible to find a rest in such a world where night and day run after one the other, disease and health check us in turns, difficulty and ease surround us one after the other, turmoil and peace command our soul in turns.

There is no rest in the world, but there is happiness for the believer. If one reaches faith in this world and keeps the way of good deeds, he makes use of every sweet and bitter event of this life for the sake of his afterlife. And what is the most important; he does not bother himself because he knows there is no rest in this world and feels free of anxiety.

Here is a formula of happiness from Prophet Muhammad (pbuh): Be like a poor man or a traveler in this world. Our attention is being drawn to two sources of happiness in this hadith and we are presented two recipes:

First recipe: To know that we are poor and strangers in this world and we came here to earn something for our real homeland, the afterlife. A person knowing this truth does not fall in love with this mortal world and does not exaggerate the temporary problems of this world. He knows that he will leave this world one day and aims at the real world of happiness.

You are a guest here and will go to another place from here. A guest does not give his heart to something that he can not take away with him. (al Mathnawi al Nuriya)

Second recipe: To know that we are travelers and live accordingly. Such a person only wants to reach his destination; it does not matter very much whether he sits in front or back seats. Sometimes we read news in newspapers: a murderer was caught in a foreign country and brought back to our country on an airplane. How can travelling on a luxury plane make this man happy! However, a small merchandiser feels happy when going to a big city to buy and sell goods even if he travels on the back seat of a little bus. Because he knows that the end of this travel is being rich and putting the troubles away.

On the other hand, if man does not seek the facilities of his home when he is on the bus, he does not feel uncomfortable in that travel. Otherwise, he makes himself unhappy. In the Risale i Nur Collection, there are many precious recipes of happiness. Let us present three of them:

The one who submits himself to the Almighty Lord and performs good deeds in this world, travels from this guesthouse of this world and in the stages and stopping-places of the intermediate realm and the hereafter as fast and strong as lightning and the Buraq; and finds the eternal happiness. (Sözler/The Words)

When a person submits himself to his Creator by believing, he gets the taste of not being ownerless and unprotected. He says I have a Creator who created me in the best way, placing my every organ in the best place, organizing my spiritual world in the best way, making my each sense work for a different task. My blood circulation and this worlds turning are all with His power and knowledge. So I am not alone, abandoned, or ownerless.

The happiness and calmness of being a creation and artwork of Allah cannot be compared with any other worldly bounty.

A chain of happiness starting from eeman (faith) reaching to the happiness of two worlds:

Eeman necessitates tawheed (the Divine Unity, oneness), tawheed necessitates submission, submission necessitates tawakkul (reliance, trust), tawakkul necessitates the happiness of the two worlds. (Sözler/The Words)

Happiness in both life and afterlife is possible through reliance to Allah. A believer who says Every good result comes from Allah performs the necessities of whatever he wants for this life and afterlife and then finds peace by relying on Allah.

Tawakkul means regarding Allah as ones agent, trusting Him. It is a kind of consciousness arising from belief and it is a result of submission to Allah. Those who submit to Allah trust in Him. Submission arises from tawheed. Of course a person knowing that Allah is the real agent (doer) that everything belongs to Allah and that He controls everything submits himself to Him

Another recipe of happiness in both worlds:

The result of restraining the nafs (soul, false ego, fleshy desires) and setting the spirit free to the ripeness is the happiness of two worlds. (Sözler/The Words)

In this sentence we are told about two requirements for the happiness of the two worlds. The first one is controlling and restraining our nafs, and the second one is developing and boosting our spirit.

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emachinescat · 3 years

Text

Mac + Alkali + Eyes

A MacGyver Fan-Fiction

by @emachinescat

@febuwhump day 18 - “I can’t see”

Summary: Mac is used to being the one who uses random chemicals to his advantage, but that changes when a fleeing target throws a bucket of drain cleaner in MacGyver’s face – right into his unprotected eyes. Or, in which Jack has to hurt MacGyver in order to help him.

Characters: Mac, Jack

Words: 3,377

TW: graphic description of chemical burns to the eyes, panic attacks

Keep reading here, or on AO3!

If you enjoy, please consider liking, commenting, or re-blogging, and you can follow me for more content like this! :)

MacGyver was used to being the one who used his surroundings to his advantage. Most of the people he went up against – terrorists, traitors, hitmen, dealers – were fairly traditional with their weapons and combat. Mac was used to being shot at, beaten to hell, and nearly blown up. What he wasn’t used to was bad guys abandoning their trusty firearms for a bucket of drain cleaner left over from Mac’s most recent improvisation. That’s not to say that this particular weapons dealer was creative about his approach – but the sad truth was that alkali was just as effective when thrown into someone’s eyes as it was in an impromptu fog machine.

Mac didn’t have enough time to close his eyes all the way. He saw what was going to happen the second before the chemical splashed into his face, and then he didn’t see anything.

Pain exploded behind his squeezed-shut eyelids, radiating from the point of contact like RF waves from a cell tower. He stumbled to his knees, skidding hard on the concrete floor of the abandoned auto shop turned weapons-stash, his fingers instinctively reaching up, clawing for his eyes, desperate, panicked, needing to do something to stop the burning, to ease the howling agony searing his eyes. He managed to keep himself from touching the eyelids, if only just. Even with his eyes on fire, he still knew that touching would only make things worse. He also knew how to treat severe chemical burns to his eyes, and step one was actually keeping his eyelids peeled open – squeezing them shut would only increase the damage.

The racing footsteps of the bad guy had disappeared into the distance the second that Mac had gone down. He supposed he should count himself lucky that the guy didn’t stick around to finish him off, though it was hard to feel lucky when his eyes felt like they were dissolving in pools of acid. Nausea rolled Mac’s stomach, and he nearly vomited. He was now listening for another pair of footsteps, coming from somewhere behind. Where the hell is Jack?

Well, in the meantime, Mac thought frantically, feeling the tears streaming down from his damaged eyes, he could stop putting off the inevitable and do what he needed to do. Mac didn’t normally procrastinate, even when the thing he didn’t want to do was going to hurt. But now, the thought of trying to open his eyes, which were already twin pools of lava eating through his head, almost made him wish that his attacker had used his gun instead. Mac took a deep breath – he felt its tremble to his very core – and wrenched his eyelids open with a yell of defiance.

And immediately slammed them back down, a rough sob exploding from his chest in anguish. Open air on his eye felt like he was being doused all over again, like someone had jabbed red-hot pokers into his eye sockets and was twisting them around for good measure.

He didn’t hear Jack’s feet slapping against the pavement over his own cries, but he did feel the strong, safe hand fall on his shoulder, felt himself being turned around, heard Jack’s frantic voice demanding to know what had happened, what was wrong. Trying his best to regain control of himself now that Jack was here – Jack fixed things, it’s what he did, it would be okay – Mac managed to choke out three of the most terrifying words he’d ever uttered:

“I can’t see.”

***

Jack Dalton couldn’t remember the last time that he had been so terrified.

He didn’t know what he had been expecting when ran up to see the dealer gone and Mac hunched on the ground – all Jack could see was a head of disheveled blonde hair and Mac’s back, shoulder muscles bunched together like a snake coiling up on itself. Fear thudded through him in time with his heart as he approached, thinking maybe the kid had been shot or stabbed or something.

He didn’t expect to see Mac’s face a grotesque shade of red, skin patchy and raw, studded with tear tracks. But the worst of it was Mac’s eyes. Jack felt sick at the sight. Mac’s eyes were shut tight, the lids swollen and puffy, an electric red like the skin had been peeled off, revealing the gooey bits underneath. And his kid’s body quivered with uncontrollable sobs that he tried desperately to contain, and Jack’s heart shriveled up and died at the sound.

“Mac – Mac, hey, buddy, I need you to focus. I need you to talk to me, okay?” Jack had no idea how he managed to keep his voice mostly calm, how he kept the raging panic from consuming every word. His own hands were shaking as he tried to calm Mac down, to get his attention so he could figure out what the hell had happened to his boy.

A great sniffle – Jack couldn’t stand to think about how much pain Mac had to be in if he was so openly showing his pain. Mac didn’t cry, certainly not from injury. His primary objective when sick or hurt was to downplay the ailment as much as possible. He didn’t show pain, not to this degree. Not like this. And the fact that he was now scared the shit of Jack.

Mac’s voice shook as he answered, but he managed to supply his overwatch with a semi-coherent answer: The fleeing bad guy had sloshed a bucket of drain cleaner into his eyes. Jack’s heart nearly gave out then. He didn’t know all the sciencey details or the chemical makeup of drain cleaner, but he knew enough to understand that this was bad.

He barely managed to temper his own panic – his desire to keep Mac calm and get him the help that he needed was the only thing that kept his emotions in check – as he asked, “Okay, what do I do? How do I help?”

Mac’s answer was breathless, his chest hitching as he made a valiant effort to regain control over his body’s reaction to his pain. “Uh… f-first. Call ambulance.” Jack did, keeping one hand on his kid’s shoulder in an attempt to ground him, to remind him that he wasn’t alone in his suffering. Once a Phoenix bus was on its way, he asked, “What next? How do we treat it until it gets here?” He thought back to his high school chemistry days (they seemed farther away than he liked to admit), and recalled a sign on the cinderblock wall about safety goggles and eye-flushing. “Gotta flush those suckers out, right?”

Mac nodded. With difficulty, he directed, “There’s a hose … around back. Get m-me there, and we–” he broke off with a huff of agony, but he didn’t need to finish: Jack was already hauling his partner to his feet. Mac was nearly dead weight, all his focus and energy sapped by his burned eyes.

“I can’t see,” he reminded Jack, though his overwatch was well aware.

“Don’t worry, brother. I gotcha. Just one foot in front of the other. That’s it. Careful there – slight step down. Here we go… All right, let’s ease ya down.” Gently, Jack lowered Mac to the ground. “What’s the best way to do this?” he asked, standing up to grab the hose and twisting the tap. For a horrible moment, nothing happened, then a great gurgling erupted from within the wall, and the hose stiffened, came to life like an industrial green snake. It was the kind that had a nozzle with several settings, but all of them were too strong for his purposes, so he removed the nozzle all together, and a stream of water gushed forth at a much more reasonable rate.

“Um…” Mac’s fingers were clenching and unclenching, raised up to his chest, like he was having to actively restrain himself from reaching up and touching his swollen eyes. “I should lie down, I think.”

So Jack helped him lie back, stripping off his own jacket to slip under Mac’s head. The kid lay there, muscles taut, body so tense Mac could’ve been spring loaded. Jack sat down on the ground next to him, hose within reach.

“All right. Let’s wash out those baby blues. Can you open your eyes for me, Mac?”

To his credit, the kid tried. Like everything else he did, Mac put every ounce of heart and effort into prying his puffy eyelids open. Jack caught the tiniest slit of glazed blue set against fiery red before Mac’s eyes clamped closed again. Fresh tears, from pain or from the chemicals, leaked down the angry, reddened cheeks. The shame in Mac’s voice hurt Jack almost as much as the sight of his partner in this much pain.

“I can’t.”

Jack closed his own eyes for the briefest of moments, steeling himself for what he was about to have to do. The thought of inflicting more pain on Mac cut him to the very center of his being, but he knew that they’d already waited too long to start flushing the burns. They couldn’t delay any longer, certainly not until the ambulance arrived.

“Okay,” Jack said, and he did his best to sound like he was in control of his own emotions, which he most certainly was not. “I’m going to have to hold them open.”

Mac nodded, and Jack could tell by the way his jaw clenched that he was scared. Jack moved quickly, well aware that if he didn’t throw himself into his task that he would lose the courage and resolve to do what needed to be done. As gently as he could, Jack placed the palm of one hand on Mac’s burned forehead, and used his index and middle fingers to carefully pry Mac’s eyes open.

Mac hissed, his hands flying up instinctively to pull Jack away. “Hey, hey, hey,” Jack soothed, and he used his other hand to swat Mac’s hands back down. “I think it might be best if you sit on them, hoss.”

Mac levered his torso off the ground and wedged his hands behind his back, lowering his full weight onto them. “Attaboy.” Jack forced Mac’s eyelids up a bit more – the skin was hot to the touch, an iridescent shade of red, and incredibly swollen. What lay underneath was far worse. Mac’s irises, normally a vibrant cobalt, were dulled, almost filmy, and the whites of his eyes no longer existed - to Jack, stomach twisting uncomfortably, it looked as if the whites of Mac’s eyes had been peeled. Every inch of surface area had turned bright red. He looked like he was trying out for the part of Lord Voldemort.

As more of his eyes were exposed to the open air, a choked gurgling sound forced its way up Mac’s throat, and Jack thought for a terrible moment that he was going to be sick. But instead, Mac just writhed, his legs kicking out helplessly against the pain, arm muscles bulging from the strain of trying to keep his hands beneath him.

Jack himself could barely see at this point through the tears in his own eyes. He brushed them away, touched his free hand briefly in a fleeting moment of comfort against Mac’s cheek, then got to work. He picked up the hose, which had been spewing water the whole time Jack had been prepping Mac, and had created a cool puddle beneath them. Jack had barely realized that he was ass-deep in water. He figured Mac hadn’t noticed at all.

Carefully, Jack placed his thumb in the middle of the stream of water, separating it into two smaller streams, which he directed as gingerly as possible into Mac’s eyes. When the water hit, Mac howled, unable to contain himself and he thrashed on the ground, nearly dislodging Jack’s grip.

“Hey, now, brother,” Jack muttered, his own voice thick with emotion. He did the only thing he could think of – he swivelled his legs around on top of Mac’s torso and applied pressure, holding the kid down. He heard Mac’s breath hitch in panic, knew that he was probably miles away now, unaware of who was holding him down, pouring water onto his face. He was in agony, restrained, and on the receiving end of a face full of cold water. In their line of work, those three things combined usually only meant one thing: waterboarding. Mac had only been waterboarded once, by a terror cell in Libya a couple of years ago, but that kind of thing was something you just didn’t get over. You never truly got over torture of that nature.

Jack was crying now, but he continued to flush out Mac’s eyes, murmuring a string of mostly senseless reassurances, trying to remind himself that what he was doing was ultimately helping Mac, but he hated himself more with each second that passed. Finally, after about five minutes, Mac began to calm, and Jack hoped that the water had begun to sooth. But no – all of the tension suddenly drained from MacGyver’s body at once, and he went limp.

He’d passed out. Thank God, he’d passed out.

Two minutes later, the Phoenix ambulance screamed into the lot. Mac was placed on a stretcher, and Jack climbed up in the back of the bus with him. He stayed out of the way, watching the medics work, using clamps to keep Mac’s eyes open and applying a constant, steady stream of saline. While one medic did this, another began to wash the chemical burns on Mac’s cheeks, forehead, and nose.

The entire ride back to Phoenix, Jack alternated between watching his kid and glaring at his hands. He despised his hands for what they’d done to Mac, what they’d put him through.

Who was he kidding? His hands were just the tools he’d used to torture his best friend.

What Jack truly despised was himself.

***

When Mac awoke, it was to a blurry hospital room – probably Phoenix, if he had to guess – comprised of vague approximations of shapes and colors. His eyes felt like they’d been pulsed in a blender – raw and painful and cut to shreds. He closed them, but that didn’t take away the discomfort. It took him a moment to remember what had led him here in the first place, but when everything came back to him, his eyes snapped open with panic, and his upper body surged up in bed.

Immediately, a strong hand was on his chest and though Mac could only see a fuzzy caricature of its owner, he knew without doubt it was Jack.

“Hey, Mac, you’re all right,” Jack said, and it sounded to Mac like his partner was trying to calm a crying child or a lost pet.

Mac allowed himself to be eased back onto his pillow, but the fear running through him was like live wires. “Jack,” he rasped. His throat burned, and he didn’t know if it was because of the screaming, or if he’d gotten a little of the drain cleaner in his mouth. He prayed it was the former. “I can’t see!”

Jack’s voice had a restrained quality to it when he spoke, like he was just keeping himself from falling off of a very steep ledge, and Mac heard the squeak of a chair, saw the blurred figure that had been looming over him lower itself down. “What do you mean, you can’t see?” Each word was carefully measured. Jack was trying not to panic himself, which only made Mac panic more.

“The whole world is just colors and shapes, Jack! I can’t make out anything clearly.”

To his surprise, a relieved laugh exploded from Jack’s direction. The hand was back, this time squeezing his shoulder. “Doc said that’s normal, Mac. Said your vision should come back in time, if you weren’t completely blind – thank God you’re not! From her examination, she said that we treated it in time to avoid major scarring or reformation.”

Mac, heart slowing down to a more normal rhythm, relief cascading over him like a summer rain, barely caught Jack’s mispronunciation. Almost. “Do you mean perforation?” Half the time, Mac couldn’t tell if Jack messed up words on purpose just to get a rise out of him, or if he really did get words mixed up on the regular. Either way, it had become a part of their natural rhythm, one of the little quirks of their relationship, and after all he’d been through, correcting Jack felt a little bit like coming home.

Mac allowed his body to relax into the bed a little more and did a quick self-assessment. He came to the conclusion that he wasn’t in nearly as much pain as he should have been. “Am I on drugs?” he asked, only now realizing that his head felt floaty, his limbs like noodles.

“Oh, yeah. You were given a shot of morphine, but they’re gonna switch you to hydros now that you’re awake. And you’re on a strong antibiotic to fight off infection, and Doc poured about an ocean’s worth of eye drops in your eyeballs.”

Mac allowed his eyelids to drop; his eyes still felt swollen, and the burning had increased, though that could have just been exhaustion, the pull of the drugs.

“Hey, man, I know you need to sleep, but can I say somethin’ real quick?”

Mac opened his eyes again, concern rising in him at the seriousness in Jack’s voice. “What’s up?”

A pregnant pause. Then, Jack Normally-So-Good-At-Speaking-His-Mind Dalton stuttered out, “I… I – well, shit, man. I’m so sorry.”

Mac blinked, then wished he hadn’t, because it felt like he’d just given his eyes a good scrub with sandpaper. “Sorry? What for?”

“For what I put you through. Hell, kid, I might as well have been torturing you.”

Ah. So Jack was feeling guilty about the lengths he’d had to go to to treat Mac’s eyes. If Mac hadn’t been on drugs, he probably would have predicted this sooner.

Mac fought through the tiredness that seemed to drag his body downwards into the surprisingly comfortable hospital bed and looked Jack in the eye, or at least where he guessed Jack’s eyes would be. “You did what you had to, Jack, and it is nothing to feel guilty about.”

“Mac, if you’d’a heard you…”

“I was there, Jack. I had a front-row seat, remember? I was out of my head with pain anyway. When you started flushing the burns, I think I detached from reality completely. Went back… remembered – things.” He shook himself mentally, then pressed on, his voice as strong as he could make it, imploring, desperate for Jack to understand. “But none of that is your fault. None of that is your doing. You almost certainly saved my vision.” It hit him then, the realization that if it hadn’t been for Jack’s treatment, he would have been helpless to perform first aid on himself. It hadn’t been for Jack’s strength and resolve, his ability to inflict pain on his partner and closest friend in order to treat his wounds, Mac would be blind right now. Most likely forever.

Mac’s next words shook with emotion. “It’s because of you that I can see, Jack. You have a strength I can’t even pretend to understand. You shouldn’t be apologizing to me! I should be thanking you.” A pause. “So thank you for what you did, Jack. Thank you so much.”

A tear burned down his face. He blamed it on the trauma, on the drugs. He reached out his hand in Jack’s direction, and immediately, that warm, familiar grip wrapped itself around it. “I’d do anything for you,” Jack said gruffly.

“I know, big guy. Thank you.”

Jack’s hand squeezed his own. “Get some sleep kid. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Mac squeezed back, then let his eyes slip closed.

Jack didn’t let go of his hand, and when Mac did wake up to clearer vision and a lighter heart, Jack was the first person that he saw. Just as he’d promised, Jack hadn’t left his side.

But then again, Jack never did.

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forgottenpasta · 5 years

Text

Wednesday

Summary: Each day of the week was reserved for one member: Jimin on Mondays, Namjoon on Tuesdays, Hoseok on Wednesdays, Seokjin on Thursdays, Taehyung on Fridays, Jeongguk on Saturdays and Yoongi on Sundays. Juggling a relationship with seven boys was difficult on its own. Add to that your insecurities, your mother’s disapproval and Hoseok forgetting your anniversary and you had the makings of the worst Wednesday ever. (...Or the best Wednesday ever?)

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader, Ot7 x Reader

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff

Warnings: Unprotected Sex, Oral (female receiving), Rimming, Creampie Rough Sex, Public Sex, Fingering, Orgasm Denial

Word Count: 12.2k

A/N: Enjoy! :)

“Where is it?”, you muttered, throwing open your closet to scan the contents of your scarf drawer. After a short second you slammed it close with a curse.

Your favourite green scarf with pretty red lace tulips sewn in on the edges was nowhere to be found. You’d checked the laundry and every inch of your living space with no luck. Pouting at the thought of losing the precious gift Jimin had given you after returning from the European leg of their tour, you slumped on your bed. Snatching your phone from where it had been charging on the bedside table, you dialled Hoseok’s number, not giving a mind to the loud clack as the charger’s adapter pulled free of the socket and fell on the floor, the wire still connected to the phone at your ear.

There were two reasons for your foul mood this lovely Wednesday morning. One was the scarf, and the other…

Hoseok hadn’t called like he did every Wednesday morning to confirm he wasn’t busy and that he’d be spending the night with you. But that wasn’t all. Today was special for the two of you. Just the two of you. And despite your myriad hints leading up to this day, Hoseok hadn’t shown even the slightest proof that he remembered.

He hadn’t called you and now he wasn’t picking up his phone.

With a frustrated sigh, you dialled Jin instead. He answered on the third ring.

“Babygirl.”

A content smile flitted on your face at the eldest’s soft endearment of a greeting, temporarily easing the unknown frustration you’d been feeling the last few days.

“Good morning Jin.” His name was a sigh on your lips, and you knew he’d be able to pick up on your current temperament from just that. Out of all of them, Jin was the most attuned to your emotions, often the one you sought out when you were feeling down or moody or if you just needed someone to cuddle away all your worries. No wonder he was the one you’d automatically called.

Sure enough, he sounded more alert when he asked, “What’s wrong, __?”

“I can’t find my favourite green scarf.”, you whined. You sounded like a petulant three year old complaining to her mother, but you knew Jin would never make fun of you.

An amused snicker sounded down the line. “Aww, did babygirl lose her blankie?”

You scowled at your iPhone, then slapped it back against your ear. “Seokjin, you traitor. You’ve been hanging out with Taehyung too much.”

“What can I say,” You heard the sound of a door closing, likely Jin coming out of his room. “He’s been unusually generous lately. Been paying for all our food, insists on it even.”

“He’s upto something.”, you said without a second thought.

“Oh I’m sure. Likely wants in on the rap line now that he’s secured a spot on the dance one. That boy won’t rest till he’s had a cypher of his own.” Jin yawned and you heard the distinct sound of the fridge opening. “Just last week I saw him disappear into Yoongi’s studio for hours. Just to come out with an intense look of determination on his face. Like he was about to go to war. I was scared.”

You chuckled, a sudden urge came over you to kiss Taehyung breathless, till he could no longer conjure up all kinds of schemes in that adorable head of his. More and more often, similar surges of emotion regarding the guys would pop up in your brain when you were away from them.

If a sweet love song played at the cafe you worked at, you started craving Jeongguk’s soft, whispered singing in your ear. If you read a particularly interesting book, you immediately wanted to discuss it with Namjoon. You shivered every time you passed a sex shop on the streets, remembering Jimin’s expert hands binding you with his silken ropes till you quivered with anticipation. Jin’s affectionate gestures were always at the back of your mind when you saw a couple on the streets or a lifetime movie with too much romance and not enough plot. And even the most random things reminded you of Yoongi. A cat cuddled into a ball outside your window, an oversized black hoodie on someone, the smell of brewed chocolate (his favourite drink ever since you’d rendered all his recording equipment unusable by pouring a cup of it over them).

And Hoseok. He was the start of it all, the member you had met even before you knew seven boys were going to crash into your boring, monotonous life and turn it upside down. The first person you had fell in love with. The one who had introduced you to the rest of them.

The one who was supposed to be your one and only boyfriend.

Till you’d come to the horrifying realisation that you felt more than just platonic affection for the six other boys who’d come attached with him like a buy one get six free package deal.

Jin’s voice snipped that train of thought in the bud. “I can tell you’re not listening to me, babygirl. I’d feel offended but thankfully the size of my ego is directly proportionate to my handsomeness.”

You rolled your eyes, too used to his boasting. “Can you ask Namjoon if he saw the scarf? He was here last night when I was wearing it.”

Jin huffed and you heard him moving through the dorm again. “You only call me when you need something, __. I’m sure I don’t like it.”

You grinned. “What happened to your invincible ego? Besides, I distinctly recall you getting off to my moans when I called you last Thursday, just for you to turn it into phone sex—”

“I was 587 miles away from you, woman! We had a show the next day, I couldn’t just book a flight from Narita to Incheon just to spend a few hours with you like last time.” Jin groaned. “I needed you so bad and my hand was a piss poor replacement.”

Your heart was melting into a sympathetic puddle. But before you could reply to his impassioned declaration Jin started laughing.

“Yo, what the fuck!”, he managed in between guffaws.

Perking up , you asked, “What is it?”

“What did you do to poor Namjoon last night?” You heard a little shuffling, then a groggy voice groaned in the background. “He’s out cold on the couch, muttering in his sleep. Here listen.”

“…mmhfh y/n-ah, juft one mor paghe n weh cann fuk…hmf…”

“Oh my god!” You giggled, not being able to understand the sounds coming out of his mouth anymore. Jin must have brought the phone close to his mouth.

“What did you do to him?!”

In between suppressed laughter, you managed to explain, “He wanted to have sex so bad last night but I had a ton of classwork, so he helped me complete it, hoping it would get done faster and he’ll get some. But he fell asleep on my desk writing an essay on Turko-Mongol war strategy and weaponry.”

“You and your essays on dead people.”, Jin teased, still chuckling. The boys were well aware of your love for history and literature, even indulged your interests by buying you all kinds of first editions of rare books and published articles. During your Medieval era European poets phase, Yoongi had bought you some early 16th century illustrations of Dante’s Divine Comedy. They were so priceless that you’d cried at the sight of them. When you’d haltingly asked where and how he got them when even reputed museums had difficulty finding early Dante illustrations, Yoongi had evaded your question like the plague. To this day you suspected he had some very high connections in the black market.

“Oh and by the way”, Jin said offhandedly. “I think he’s drooling on your scarf.”

Mirth disappeared and your eyes went round. “What?!” Then you remembered you’d wrapped it around his neck early this morning while you were still half asleep, hoping he wouldn’t catch a cold on his way to the dorm. “Aagh, get it away from him!”

The doorbell went off just then, surprising you. You weren’t expecting anyone.

“Umm Jin, I’ll call you later,” you told him, getting up from your bed. “Save my scarf please. That’s the only gift I have from Jimin that isn’t a sex toy. And also, ask Hoseok to call me please.”

“Sure.”, he reassured. “Are you coming to our photoshoot today? I know you don’t have any classes scheduled.”

“Miss a chance of seeing you guys all dolled up and posing sexily? Hell no.”

Jin laughed. “I love you, you pervert. Bye.”

“Mmhm, I love me too.” You hung up, knowing full well that Jin would be rolling his eyes at your antics.

“I’m coming!”, you shouted as the bell went off again, striding out of your bedroom and towards the front door. The smiling face of your mother was the last thing you were expecting to see when you opened it.

“Mom!” You hugged her automatically. “What are you doing here?”

She patted your back, dropping a kiss on the side of your head. Her ever youthful face coming into your view as she pulled back. “I was in Seoul to attend a soiree some of my friends were hosting. I couldn’t leave without meeting you.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”, you said cheerfully, ushering her in and closing the door. “Let’s talk in the kitchen. I’ll make some tea for you.”

She followed you into the kitchen, seating herself on one of the breakfast barstools as you set about making her a hot cup of her preferred beverage. “Thank you, dear. I really appreciate that you keep tea in your kitchen for when I visit, even though you don’t drink it.”

“Oh, umm, it’s nothing mom.” You stared at the water filling the kettle intently, not having the heart to tell her that you also kept it for when Taehyung stayed over. He didn’t like the taste of coffee.

Your mother knew about your relationship with the seven boys. Your father didn’t. After those first few weeks of being with them, you’d taken the risk of telling her because you had no one to talk about such a big change happening in your life. You couldn’t tell any of your college friends because technically Bangtan were not supposed to be dating anyone, let alone all seven of them dating one, lest their fangirls (and boys) get mad. You couldn’t risk outing them. The only one you hundred percent trusted to keep a secret was your mom. So you had told her. And as expected she’d kept your secret even from your father.

But that did not mean she approved or supported seven men being with her one daughter.

“Hows college going, sweetheart?”, she asked, watching you put in a tablespoon of sugar in her tea, just as she liked.

“It’s going good.” You paused. That was a lie. “Actually I barely get time to complete my class projects. It’s kinda hectic.”

“__, please tell me you finally broke it off with those boys.”, she blurted out as soon as you poured her a cup.

There it was. Of course she would assume you didn’t get time because your boyfriends took up all of it.

Rubbing sluggishly at your eyes, you sighed. Your mother was never one to beat around the bush.

“Mom, I love them.” You looked up into her eyes so she could see how sincere you were. “I’m not going to end it with them.”

She took a cautious sip from her cup, a contemplative expression coming over her face. You braced yourself. When your mother got thoughtful, it meant she was about to drop some serious truth bombs and painful facts that you were likely not going to like or want to hear.

“So, are you waiting for them to end it with you?” She raised a brow, phrasing her question like she was genuinely curious. You knew better.

“ You’re a very intelligent girl, dear. Do you seriously see such an arrangement lasting?” Her mouth twisted at the word “arrangement”, like it tasted foul.

Gazing at the ceiling, you prayed for her understanding, even though a part of you understood her reservations and that she was only looking after you.

“You don’t know them like I do, mom. They love me too. Very much so.” Your voice came out strained, ruining the conviction you’d wanted to infuse it with.

“I don’t doubt that. Look at me, __.”, she ordered softly.

You did and she offered you a tentative smile. “I don’t doubt that at all. You deserve all the love in the world and more. But a little pragmatism goes a long way, __. How is it possible that seven men keep themselves limited to one girl only?”

She took your hand that was fisted on top of the counter, slowly prying the tensed muscles open till you gave her your palm and she kissed the middle of it. “I don’t want you to get hurt, y/n. And you’re only setting yourself up for a seven times bigger fallout if you keep this thing up. Men are notoriously possessive creatures, if they don’t seek out other women, they’ll likely fight amongst themselves for you.”

Shaking your head, you took your hand out of her grasp. “No, mom. They’re very close, like brothers. They do get jealous when other men hit on me but never each other.”

Your mother sighed, frustration creeping up on her face. Her tone hardened as she said, “Then they would not hesitate to kick you to the curb if you threaten their unity even the slightest bit. I did not want to do this but you have to stop being so naïve, __. Haven’t you thought about why they agreed to this thing with you so easily?”

You almost said because they liked you so much, but you knew that wasn’t the answer your mother had in mind. “I’m sure you’re going to enlighten me.”

She leaned forward with a scowl. “Because it’s convenient. They’re insanely popular right now. Everywhere they go they’ve got eyes on them. Even your recluse of a father, who only concerns himself with politics and sports knows their songs. It’s easier for them to keep and share one woman then deal with seven.”

The kitchen was deathly silent save for the blood rushing in your ears. You did not want to hear this. You did not want some half baked ideas your mom had raise doubts in your mind about the boys.

Forcing back the tears that threatened, you softly murmured, “Mom, please.”

But she wasn’t done. “You drop everything to go to them. You keep yourself available 24/7. At their beck and call seven days a week.”

“It’s not like that.”, you exclaimed. “They support me just as much, if not more. They never ask for more than I’m comfortable giving.”

“That’s the problem, y/n.”, your mother snapped. “You’re willing to give too much of yourself. Better reel yourself in before you find yourself utterly vulnerable and exposed, with no one to lean on.”

“What does that mean?”, you asked, just as harshly.

“It means…”, she paused, as if debating wether to continue or not, before shaking her head. “I’m telling you to be ready for the time when they find partners of their own.”

Aggravated at her continued belabouring, you threw up your hands. “I’ve told you they aren’t interested in other girls—”

“Yet.” She cut you off. “Or maybe who knows, they might just be keeping company of others behind your back. Though you’re smart you’ve never been very observant.”

“Mom!”, you almost shouted, horrified at what she was insinuating. Even the thought of them going behind your back like that was unbearably painful. But you trusted them, so this whole conversation was unnecessary. “You’re just saying that because you haven’t met them. Once you’ll get to know what kind of people they really are, you wouldn’t say such things.”

She sneered, clearly put off by even the idea of meeting them. Then she delivered the final blow. “That’s not gonna happen, Y/n. The day you bring home seven men at once, your father will have a heart attack. And I’m not ever going to be interested in meeting the men who treat my daughter like a communal shower.”

“Mom.”, you breathed, pinching the bridge of your nose for patience and to quell the tears that were waiting to burst free. You couldn’t believe she actually said that. “I think you should leave.”

“I think so too.” You heard her get up from the barstool, opening your eyes to gaze unseeingly at her half empty cup on the counter.

The sound of her retreating footsteps stopped at the entryway. “I’m your mother, __. I’ve only ever wanted what’s best for you. Remember that.”

And with that parting reminder, she left. As soon as the door closed behind her, your tears fell like a dam burst free, crumbling all your emotional defences along with it. Slowly, and not-so-gracefully you crumbled to the kitchen floor yourself, your butt hitting the cool tiles as you buried your face in your knees, wrapping your arms around them to make a rolled up, human ball of woe.

When initially you’d told your mother about the boys almost half an year ago she’d been disbelieving at first. Later, when she’d finally accepted you were not joking, she’d told you that you would get tired of “this new polyamory fad” soon, not being able to handle dealing with so many people in your love life at once. You guessed that after almost a year of you dating Bangtan, she’d finally come around to the fact that this wasn’t just a phase in her daughter’s life. Today was the first time she’d gotten so vocal about her disapproval though. Usually it was just snide remarks, invasive questions or straight up ignoring that you were even dating someone. You knew that keeping such a big thing from your dad because of the promise you’d extracted from her also weighed on her conscience.

The chill seeped from the cold tiles to your whole body and you shivered as you wiped your tears, frowning when more rushed to replace them. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t asked all those questions your mother had raised yourself. Trepidation had racked you when you’d first ventured into such a daring commitment with them. Will you alone be able to satisfy them? How would you divide your time amongst seven men? What if they got bored with you, or worse, jealous of each other? Would they seek out someone else?

But slowly and surely, the boys had shown you that trust and loyalty, though hard earned, were bonds that survived the treacherous potholes of navigating a polyamorous relationship. You trusted them, you were loyal to them. They trusted you, they were loyal to you.

Or were they?

Shaking your head, you got up off the floor with a huff, stalking to your bedroom with an irritated gait. This is why you did not want to talk to your mother. You were only human. The seeds of doubt once sown, germinated into assumptions and suspicion you absolutely loathed. Mainly, because you were self aware enough to realise that they had no real substance to them, they only reflected your own secret fears back at you. But again, you were only human and no matter how much you tried to shake off the encounter with your mom, your mood soured further when your overactive imagination supplied images of the boys with other women.

And your age old enemy, insecurity, reared its ugly head. Taehyung was an ass man, maybe he’d like to be with someone with a bigger butt. Were you even intelligent enough for Namjoon? Jin would suit a more wholesome woman who knew how to cook something other than ramen. Yoongi liked breasts, maybe someone with a perkier pair. You could not sing to save your life, so why did Jeongguk like you when all his female celebrity crushes had killer pipes? Jimin used to train submissives before you came into his life, did he think about those happier times?

Did Hoseok resent having to share you with his members when you’d pledged to love him and only him?

You were angrily yanking open your closet to look for something to wear to their photoshoot when your phone flashed from where you’d thrown it on the bed before your mom had officially ruined your day.

Peeking a look at it, you wondered if you should have read your horoscope. Because the day was far from over.

Hobi: Few high school friends invited me for drinks tonight. Rain check?

~.~.~

Exactly one year ago ~

The bookstore became eerily quite after 10 pm. Only a few last minute stragglers sometimes showed up to look for some obscure book they obviously couldn’t find anywhere else.

You loved being with your lonesome self behind the cash register. Usually with a book in your hands, reading up on all kinds of historical fiction, medieval fantasies, long forgotten poems of equally unknown poets and of course the occasional bodice ripper.

Which was what you were doing when the bell above the entrance chimed, indicating someone was indeed, on the prowl for some late night book hunting. You didn’t look up from the raunchy text in your lap as a dark figure passed by, clearly no more interested in exchanging pleasantries than you were. With a shrug you went back to focus on the guilty pleasure of a novel you’d picked for yourself tonight. A courtesan heroine during renaissance Italy who entertained patrons from not only the newly emerging Humanist circles but also the corrupt members of the clergy? Oh yes please.

But when, out of the corner of your eye, you saw the newcomer heading for the comic book section you grew intrigued. Late night hunting for…comic books?

Close proximity to the Seoul National University meant that the bookstore you worked at housed mostly academic readings. And as such the people who came here were also mostly students who wished to buy a copy of the expensive publishings they could otherwise also find in a library. That alone meant that the bookstore was never buzzing with customers. Let alone ones who were looking for some flashy illustrations and superhero escapism. The comic books you had on offer usually just collected dust.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you abandoned your heroine in midst of a wanton tryst with a nobleman to observe the anomaly currently browsing the comics on display.

He had on a long black trench coat, leather pants encasing the muscular legs below and Dr. Martens on his feet. His hair was covered with a black cap and from what you could see, a mask of the same colour stretched across his face. It wasn’t unusual to see people with their face fully covered, so you didn’t think much of his all black ensemble. Though he would blend in perfectly outside at night, under the store’s bright lights he stuck out like a bat during the day.

Maybe he’s a fan of batman.

When he’d chosen his pick he turned around, making you duck your head down quickly. The light chuckle that reached your ears meant that you weren’t fast enough and he’d caught you checking him out. You flushed red.

“Can I get these gift wrapped please?”

Two comic books landed on the counter in front of you, the sound accompanying the husky lilt of the man’s voice.

Left with no choice but to interact with him, you softly replied, “Of course.” Strangely, your heart beat spiked as you reached forward to pick the thin, glossy books up. He’d placed his hands on the wood counter, palms down, his sleeves pushed up a little. For a second you stared at his long fingers, a ridged vein stretching from the knuckles to the back of his right hand, forking out on his bare forearm before disappearing under his clothing like a purplish blue tattoo.

As if on cue, he started drumming his fingers, snapping you into action as you quickly scanned his purchase.

“That’ll be 15,430 won.” Opening a cabinet to pull out a selection of wrapping papers, you deliberately took your time to avoid meeting his eyes. What was going on with you? You couldn’t even see his face properly but you were acting like a teenager with her first crush. You decided it was time to stop reading romantic fantasies.

Clearing your throat you presented the options to him with a flourish, this time looking him straight in the eyes. “Which one would you like?”

He gave a cursory glance to the colourful sheets before glancing back at you with a quirked brow. Was he laughing at your flustered form? You couldn’t tell what with the mask, but there was definitely mirth dancing in his eyes.

A shrug. “Whichever. I really don’t care.”

“Fine”, you huffed, really not appreciating being the source of his amusement. You chose a blue paper with green stripes, placing the comics in the middle.

“I like that one.”, he commented graciously. And you were just about to reply when he continued cheekily, “I also like your choice in books.”

Your hands froze, eyes darting to the unfinished

novel you’d placed face up on the table. The salacious cover showed a woman in medieval garb, her mouth half open in a silent moan as a blonde man wearing a billowy white shirt kissed her bare shoulder, the open neck of her gown threatening to expose her breasts.

In a flash you flipped the book, cover side down, opening a drawer to hastily throw it inside. Slamming it closed, you glared at the man who was now outright laughing at you.

“Don’t be embarrassed.”, he cajoled in a tone that suggested you should, in fact, be embarrassed. “Everyone’s gotta live vicariously somehow.”

Was he suggesting you read erotic books because you didn’t get laid in real life?

You narrowed your eyes. “Is that why you’re reading children’s books?” You indicated the My Little Pony picture book and the Superman comic he’d picked up. “I must say you’ve got varied tastes.”

“Hey now.” He held up his hands. “Those are for my niece and nephew. They’re twins and it’s their birthday today.”

“Maybe that’s what you say whenever you’ve got to stock up on the latest My Little Pony issue. Have them gift wrapped so no one suspects.” Now you were just pushing it, but the burn of embarrassment still irked.

He was grinning behind his mask. “No that one’s for my nephew. He likes ponies.”

You gaped at him. “You’re not serious.”

“I am.”

You held up the Superman issue. “And I’m guessing your niece likes superheroes?”

“Only the ones who can fly.” He shrugged. “According to her Batman is an imposter with no real powers.”

“Radical.”, you said in amazement.

“Look I didn’t mean to upset you.” His hand on the counter moved to cover yours. A shock of awareness jolted through your spine, making you sit up straighter. By the way he swallowed, he wasn’t unaffected either. But he didn’t let go of your hand, clutched it tighter actually. “I’m sorry if I was rude.”

“I, umm.”, you stuttered, not being able to look away from his sincere gaze. What were you upset about again? Yeah, the living vicariously comment. “It’s alright. Though I’ll have you know, I get plenty of action.”

No you didn’t get plenty of action. And you did not just say that.

At least you’d managed to shock him out of his sauve demeanour. “I’m…sure you do.” He cleared his throat, squeezing your hand. “I wasn’t insinuating anything. I read smut too, you know.”

Now it was your turn to be shocked. “You don’t.”

“I don’t.” He grinned again. “Just trying to make you feel better.”

“Hey!” You snatched back your hand, scowling at him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”, he breathed in between laughter. “You’re just too easy to rile up.”

“Ha ha.”, you mocked. “Are you living vicariously through me then? Not enough comedy in your life, huh?”

He straightened then, his amusement disappearing. “Maybe.”

Reaching for the hand you’d pulled out of his grip, he brought it closer to him. Wrapping both his hands around yours, he made sure you were looking into his eyes when he said, “Maybe you’re exactly what I need in my life.”

Your breath hitched at that. “I don’t even know your name.”

His eyes crinkled at that. He was smiling behind his mask again. At that moment, you wanted to see his face more than anything in the world.

One hand let go of yours to point at the large S on Superman’s chest on the comic’s cover.

You frowned in confusion. “Your name is…S?”

“No silly. That’s not an S, that’s the Kryptonian symbol for hope.”

~.~.~

Present Day~

Your tears had dried by the time you left your house to head for the Bighit building. The occasional sniffle still persisted though, and you hoped you looked put together enough for the boys to not suspect anything.

The talk with your mother was not entirely responsible for your persisting melancholy. You’d been reminiscing your first meeting with Hoseok ever since his text came in. Something about it being the first anniversary of when he’d come into your quaint little bookshop, all masked up in disguise and asked you out, after thoroughly embarrassing you that is. You hadn’t gotten to see his face on the first date either, or the second or the third. When he’d asked you why you still went on multiple dates with him when he didn’t allow you to see his face (which also meant he didn’t kiss you), you’d joked about having a taste for wanted fugitives.

But the truth was that you’d fallen in love with him even before you really knew who he was. He made you laugh, made your heart flutter when he’d wrap you up in his arms, he wasn’t afraid to push your boundaries when it came to getting to know you. By the time the fifth date had rolled around he knew everything about you and you still knew nothing about him, except for the fact that he had some sinful moves, which you’d gotten to know when he’d gave you a fully clothed lap dance on your birthday. You’d fallen for his mannerisms. He’d pull out your chair, open doors for you, give you his jacket. He was different than all the guys you’d previously dated, he never once tried to get into your pants, the most you’d gotten was a quick brush of his lips across your forehead before he’d quickly slide his mask back in place.

You were the one who’d grown frustrated at him taking it so slow. He’d only chuckle lightly and divert your hand to safety whenever you tried to grope him, all your amateur attempts at seduction thwarted when he’d cage you in his arms instead or pull your attention elsewhere.

The day you’d gotten to see his face was also the day he introduced you to the rest of the boys. When he’d invited you over to his place for the first time you were ecstatic. Finally having his trust was a big deal to you. By now you’d realised he must be someone important (or dangerous) for him to hide his identity for so long, but you’d never pushed him to reveal himself. You’d thought he’d finally realised how serious you were about him.

Oh, he’d realised it alright. When he’d opened the dorm door for you, the first thing he’d done was kiss your mouth senseless, even before you’d registered who it was you were looking at. When he’d pulled back after ravishing your mouth, you’d gaped at him in shock, both at his hungry mauling and the fact that you were looking at, well, him. A world famous artist. Who’d just kissed you like his life depended on it.

His words then were still etched into your brain. He’d smiled wide and you remember thinking it was the most beautiful sight ever. “You have no idea how long I’ve been dying to kiss you, __.”

You clutched your coat around you tighter as you took the familiar route to your boyfriends’ workplace. A wistful smile graced your lips when you remembered how the rest of the boys had embraced you into their group seamlessly, like you were always meant to be right by their side. Your friendship with them had started out innocent enough, but they had always been very handsy when it came to you. You hadn’t minded and neither did Hoseok, when one of them asked you for a massage or laid their head in your lap or if the competitive younger ones tickled you ceaselessly when you’d beat them at a game. You’d developed a rapport with Namjoon and Yoongi, you enjoyed listening to them whenever they had something to say and you were flattered when they took your opinions and suggestions seriously.

Slowly and surely they’d trusted you with all their secrets, allowing you into their private life as you and Hoseok’s relationship had deepened. So it really came as shock to you when one day you’d snapped at Namjoon when he’d come to you asking advice regarding the girl he’d been dating. It hadn’t been your finest moment and for a while it had mired your bond with the boys in confusion and uncertainty. Especially when Namjoon had broken up with the girl the very next day.

The real shocker came when Jeongguk kissed you full on the mouth in the presence of Hoseok. And your boyfriend did not seem to mind at all! Gradually the boys’ handsiness had grown into full-blown PDA. They kissed you, pulled you into their lap during movie nights, back hugs became commonplace. Taehyung even loved to warm his hands against your bare waist, sneaking them inside your shirts whenever he could. Before your moral compass went haywire with guilt you had sat all of them down and talked about the nature of your relationship.

Communication was always key. Hoseok had initially been unsure of the mere idea of sharing you but you’d assured him that you would never go ahead with it if he wasn’t onboard. But the fact was, you’d fallen in love with the rest of the boys too. And he could see that as well.

You still wonder sometimes, if he’d said yes only because he risked losing you otherwise. You wouldn’t have been able to handle secretly pining for the other boys if he’d said no.

As you displayed your id to the guard at front, you wondered if he’d really forgotten that today was your anniversary. It seemed like it. Why would he accept an invitation to go out tonight of all nights if he didn’t? Should you remind him? Or maybe it just wasn’t as big of a deal as you were making it out to be.

You didn’t know what to do, all you knew was that today was a shit day. And with that thought, you entered the spacious conference room converted into a studio for the photoshoot. Namjoon had told you that it was for this years season’s greetings.

From the soft mood lightings against the panel of wall to wall windows spanning one side of the room and the light coloured casual clothing that hung from the racks pushed to the corners, you deduced that they were going for a soft, boyfriend look this time.

You snorted. How ironic they’d sell such a concept to their fans when all seven of them were taken at the same time. By the same person.

The familiar faces of the co-ordis greeted you as you moved in, and you murmured a soft good morning to them. “Where are they?”, you asked, looking around.

Solji, one of the older stylists, answered you with a smile. “You’re a little early. They’ll be here soon.”

“Great. I’ll set up somewhere out of your way then.” You returned her smile, she was your favourite out of all the staff, always friendly and understanding.

Speaking of the staff, your eyes caught a new face flitting among the familiar ones when you scanned the room for a place to sit. You nudged Solji. “Is she new?”, you asked, flicking your chin towards the blonde girl assisting the hairstylist in pulling out all kinds of products from a bag.

Solji nodded. “Miso. She’s a temp. We fell short on hands when Hyoyeon took her maternity leave. Most likely will become permanent if she’s good.”

You frowned. “Does she know about me?”

The staff were well informed about your relationship with Bangtan, the Non Disclosure Agreement they signed when they were hired prevented them from going to the media with any kind of private details about the boys, lest they be sued for their weight in gold. But it always caused you anxiety when a new staff member got to know about you. More so when they got to know you were dating all of them.

“Yes. I informed her myself. She was surprised, to say the least.”

“Everyone is.” Your mom’s sneer came to mind suddenly, but you pushed it away. Patting Solji’s arm, you said, “Time for me to catch up on my studies I guess.”

Spying a small love seat in one corner of the big room you headed towards it. Picking up the empty make up containers strewn over it, you placed them carefully on the carpeted floor instead. Perching yourself on the seat, you pulled open your handbag, pulling out your laptop and the textbook you and Namjoon had been pouring over last night.

This is what you did when they asked you over on a photoshoot, or vocal practice or dress fittings. Watching them from a corner while trying to get some work done. But mostly just gazing at them go about their way from your front row perch, hearts in your eyes.

You’d only just begun reading when the sound of their laughter reached your ears. Looking up eagerly, you promptly forgot your work. Yoongi was already headed towards you, looking downright sinful in a white Supreme hoodie, jeans and converse. Did he even need to change? This was boyfriend look right here.

“My little bird’s already hard at work I see.” He bent to give you a heart stopping kiss, his hand cupping your nape in a proprietary gesture. “How am I gonna focus on the shoot with you looking so gorgeous today, hmm? Maybe we can convince the photographer to take your pictures instead.”

Oh, flirty Yoongi was in the house today.

“I don’t think your fans would like that.” You bit his lip, not even trying to resist the temptation right before your eyes.

Another deep kiss. “Their loss.”

“Hyung, Solji noona is calling you.”, a cheerful Taehyung said from behind Yoongi.

The elder straightened up with a scowl. “Really? You’ll get a knuckle sandwich if you’re lying.”

“I’m not.”, he exclaimed, jerking a thumb behind him. “Go ask her yourself.”

As Yoongi left while muttering something under his breath, Taehyung sprawled himself on the love seat beside you. “I lied.”

You nodded. “Of course you did.”

The shout of “Tae you motherfucker!” could be heard as the subject of the loud curse brushed some stray hair behind your ears, an unbothered boxy smile directed at you as he asked, “So __, I heard Hobi hyung won’t be spending the night with you. This must come as a shock because I’m a busy man,” he polished his nails on the lapels of the Gucci coat he had on, before inspecting them like they were the singular most interesting thing, “but did you know I’m completely free tonight?”

You smiled at his attempt at nonchalance but your heart ached at the reminder. Looking towards Hoseok, you found him and the boys surrounded by the styling team. When Hoseok caught you looking, he grinned wide, moving to make his way to you.

A small hand on his shoulder stopped him in his path. The new temp Miso held up a shirt to his torso, looking up at him with a smile as she said something you couldn’t quite hear. You saw Hoseok nod and reply to her, all plans of coming to you forgotten.

“Is there trouble in paradise?”, Taehyung guessed, looking at his hyung then at you then back to his hyung like a ping pong ball.

Halting his swivelling head by placing a palm on his cheek, you pouted, “Tae, do you know what today is?”

A scared look came over his face. “Oh shit, did I forget your birthday or something?”

You scowled. “No. It’s me and Hoseok’s one year anniversary. It’s the day I first met him. And he doesn’t remember.”

“Oh.” Then a strange look came over his face, somewhere between constipation and indigestion. He was hiding something. “Oh.”

“What are you ohing about?”, you asked curtly, your curiosity growing. “And why are you making that face?”

“What face?”, he squeaked, getting up from the chair in a flash. “Oh looky there, Solji noona is calling me.”

“Wait!” But he was already hightailing it out of there. “Tae you motherf—ugh!”

For the next hour you watched them from your corner seat as they went through multiple outfit changes and all different kinds of poses against the strategically placed props near the windows. The soft sunlight filtering in provided a natural lighting and their beautiful features seemed to glow from within because of the luminescent makeup they wore. All in all it was a mesmerising affair, they looked like angels.

And throughout it all instead of focusing on getting some work done your gaze slipped to Hoseok again and again. All of the boys had come to sit beside you at one point or the other, except him. But it wasn’t for lack of trying.

The pencil in your grip almost snapped to half when you saw the new hire, Miso, bend down to whisper something in his ear as she messed with his already perfect hair. One of her hands landed on his shoulder and you could swear she was caressing him.

For his part, he rested his head on the back of the chair, eyes closed and barely giving her one word answers. But that did nothing to quell the embers of jealousy burning inside you. Solji had said that the new girl knew about you. You did not want to interfere in their work but if she continued feeling up your boyfriend...

You almost catapulted out of your chair when you saw her brush her ample chest against his arm whilst pretending to pick something up from the floor.

But luckily Namjoon made his way to you at the same time, saving you from smacking a bitch into next week.

“I’m sorry about your scarf, doll. I put it in the laundry for you.” He smiled, cheeks dimpling deeply, as if he expected a pat on the back for managing such a feat.

Reluctantly you looked away from Hoseok and the snake coiling herself around him, giving Joon a half hearted smile. “Thank you, baby.”

The dimples disappeared. “Is something wrong?”

The sincere worry in his eyes was all it took for your composure to shatter. The past few days, your mother’s visit, Hoseok’s forgetfulness, your own insecurities and now the bitch a few feet away from you.

With a pathetic whine you launched yourself into the leader’s lap, situating yourself between his thighs and wrapping your arms around him. Your face fit perfectly in the space between his shoulder and neck. You didn’t care if you were ruining his carefully put together outfit or the fact that you were in a room full of people.

Thankfully Namjoon didn’t care either, he immediately pulled you close, bending down to kiss your nose affectionately.

“Doll?”, was all he said in his soft, deep, ever understanding voice and everything you’d been bottling up came hurtling out in a hiccupy word vomit. By the time you were finished tears were running down your face and you turned to hide into his chest so nobody else could see you breaking down.

“Aah your mother is wrong, so so wrong. You’re our centre, the best thing that ever happened to us.” Sighing, he rubbed your back. “But I understand where she’s coming from. If it were my daughter I’d be sceptical too. We’ll just have to convince her that we love you more than anything in the world.”

“She doesn’t want to meet you guys.”, you murmured against his chest, wiping your nose on his expensive designer shirt.

He didn’t seem to mind, brushing away your tears with his shirt sleeve himself. Solji was going to kill you both.

“I’m sure we can change her mind.” Namjoon nudged your chin up till he was gazing into your eyes. “As for Hoseok, don’t you dare doubt his love for you. He worships the ground you walk on.”

“Is that why he forgot our anniversary?”

Namjoon evaded your eyes. “Doll...”

“And why isn’t he pushing away that new temp?”

“Huh?” Confused, he looked up in the direction of the man in question.

“Forget it. Do I even have any right to be jealous when it comes to you guys?”, you questioned softly to yourself. Something you’d been wondering about for a while. “I mean there’s one of me and seven of you. You don’t get jealous when I’m with Jimin or Yoongi. Why should I be jealous if you guys show interest in other girls, right?”

That snapped his attention back to you, and what you saw in his eyes made you shrink in on yourself. He was angry, furious even. He grabbed your jaw, made sure your eyes didn’t stray from him.

“Of the most ridiculous nonsense you could come up with, I never imagined you’d be questioning our loyalty to you.”, he said through his teeth. “Firstly, we have no fucking interest in dating another girl, get that through your thick head. Second, we don’t get jealous of each other but you very well know we can’t stand anyone else putting their hands on you. Thirdly,” he paused, taking a deep breath. “I can’t say for other guys but I love it when you get jealous.”

“What?”, you breathed.

Sheepishly, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Do you remember when I came to you asking for dating advice before you’d agreed to be with all of us? When you were only Hoseok’s girlfriend.”

“I do.” You were just reminiscing about your early days with the boys a few hours ago.

“I didn’t really want your advice, I suspected you liked me too and I just wanted to get a rise out of you.”

You stared at him. “Is that why you broke up with the girl the next day?”

“Hehe.”, he laughed nervously. “I wasn’t dating anybody in the first place. I only wanted to be with you.”

Your jaw dropped.

Solji’s voice cut through your intimate bubble then. “Namjoon, you’re up.”

“Time to get scolded for ruining my shirt.” He picked you up and set you on the cushions like you weighed nothing.

“I’m sorry about that.” Glancing at the wetness that covered his front from your tears and snot, you winced.

“I drooled on your scarf, you cried on my shirt. We’re a match made in heaven, babe.”, he said, a shit eating grin on his face.

“You’re so cheesy.” You threw a cushion at his face.

He flicked it away with a swat. “You’ve been sitting here for hours, you should stretch your legs. I have that SourPunk string candy you like so much in the drawer beneath my computer. Go get some.”

“Really?!” You jumped up at once. “It’s my favourite.”

“I know.” He left after giving you an indulgent smile, though you heard him mutter under his breath “it tastes like satan’s ass” before he was out of earshot.

Ignoring him, you happily made your way out of the huge room, heading straight for Namjoon’s studio on the third floor. There was a spring in your step. Not surprisingly talking to the leader had put some sense back into you, he’d Expecto Petronumed your insecurities like they were dementors. For now at least, you were sure they’d rear their ugly head again in the future like a chronic disease.

Striding down the hallway cheerfully, you did not expect a hand to shoot out of a door. You shrieked like a banshee when the hand clutched your arm, hauling you inside before slamming the door close.

“What the—“, your shout was cut off by Hoseok’s hand over your mouth.

“It’s me, __. Don’t scream.”

Narrowing your eyes, you licked his palm.

“Aah!” He snatched it back, face scrunching. “What was that for?”

“For ignoring me all day. And scaring me just now.”

“Ignoring you?” He scoffed. “Fuck no. I don’t do childish stuff like that. I’m not Yoongi hyung.”

“I’m going to tell him you said that.”

Hoseok’s glare turned into a confused frown when he saw your face clearly, the dim lighting not helping his vision. “Were you crying?”

Flinching, you spoke sharply, “No.”

The frown didn’t abate. “__, I swear I wasn’t ignoring you.”

“That’s not why I was crying.”

“So you were crying.” He raised his brows, daring you to deny it. His eyes softened when you looked away instead.

“Hey baby, I’m sorry.”, he murmured in your ear, his hands finding purchase on your waist. He nudged your face toward his, nuzzling you softly. “Whatever I did I’m so sorry.”

Melting in his arms, you allowed him to pull you close. “You don’t even know what you’re apologising for.”

Placing a hand on the side of your neck, a thumb at your chin pulled your mouth open. “It doesn’t matter. I hate seeing you upset.”

He kissed your open mouth, his tongue immediately finding yours. The taste of him made you moan, coffee and the sugar coated lemon drops he loved so much. It was a strange but delectable combination.

As you sucked on his tongue, his hands dropped to work on the buttons of your blouse. You pulled away for a second to ask, “We’re really doing this here? Right now?”

“Not we.” Pushing your blouse and bra out of the way, he freed one breast for his hungry mouth.

“I just want to make you feel good.”, he breathed against your nipple before taking the cold, hardened bud between his warm lips.

Head thumping back against the door, you clutched him to your chest. “Hobi, oh my god!”

Taking your sensitive nipple between his teeth, he pulled, making a jolt of arousal go straight to your core. He chuckled as a moan tore from you. “I haven’t even started and you’re already invoking god. You won’t be able to keep quiet, would you? Do you want everyone to know your boyfriend’s worshipping you?”

Pulling him up for another messy kiss, you confessed against his lips. “Yes. I want everyone to know that you belong to me.”

Something primal and unrestrained entered his eyes, and you almost regretted your words for a second. With a swiftness that defied gravity, he picked you up and strode to a nearby table. After clearing the surface with a sweep of his hand, he placed you gingerly on top. The clink and clatter of jewellery and other accessories hitting the floor echoed in the room, but you only had eyes and ears for Hoseok.

“Be careful what you ask for, __.”

What had you unleashed?

He made swift work of your jeans till you were clad only in your blouse and soaking wet panties.

“Look at that, you’ve already made a mess.” Cupping your crotch, he stroked your clothed labia slowly, smirking when you swivelled your hips for more. “How badly do you want me to eat you out, __? Tell me and I might let you have my tongue.”

You wanted him too much to care about how desperate you sounded. “So bad. Please! I want your tongue on my pussy.”

“What my baby wants, she gets.” He dropped to his knees between your spread legs, pushing at the back of your thighs to expose your genitals in the most lewd way possible. Pushing aside your soaked panties, he dove in with fervour like he was about to devour the most scrumptious meal ever.

The first flick of his tongue on your clit had you gnashing your teeth and fisting his thick, soft hair. From previous experience you knew that receiving oral sex from him meant that he was going to put all your vibrators to shame.

And sure enough, the speed of his tongue on your clit blew your mind, as did the currents of pleasure coursing through you. How he was able to move his tongue so fast, you had no fucking clue. Pausing in his expert assault, he took the already quivering bundle in his mouth to suck, simultaneously thrusting two fingers deep in your slick channel.

“Hobi! Fuck! Umfh..” That was all you could manage till he found the soft spongy spot on your inner walls, pressing on it in tandem with his licks on your clit. Most of the sounds that came out of your mouth were incoherent shouts and half pleas.

Hoseok’s eyes met yours over the expanse of your tummy and you could tell he was internally laughing as you dissolved into a mindless being intent on reaching your climax. “Hobi please make me cum!”

The bastard pulled his sinful mouth away from your cunt instead. “What was that?”

“Aagh!”, you yelled in frustration. “Put that tongue back on my fucking clit!”

He pouted, his cheeks glistening from your juices. “Is that any way to speak to your boyfriend?”

“Hobi.”, you cried, about to burst into frustrated tears literally. “Please!”

Grinning, he dove back down. “Now was that so hard?”

This time he pulled his fingers out of your entrance to rub slick circles on your nub instead. His mouth tasted a path down your inner labia before tonguing your clenching, empty hole.

“Hoseok, don’t tease me.”, you begged.

Taking mercy on you, he thrust his tongue deep inside. The fingers playing your clit like a fiddle doubled their strokes.

“Fuck yes!”, you screamed.

His tongue inside your pussy mimicked his dick thrusting in and out, your pussy trying to grip the muscle everytime he pulled it back out. You could come just from him tongue fucking you.

“Hoseok don’t stop! Please don’t stop!”

He stopped. Pulling away once again.

“What?!”, you shrieaked, your orgasm slipping away from your grasp. Frustrated tears did, in fact, make their way down your cheeks this time.

“Your pussy tastes like fucking ambrosia, __.”, he groaned, licking his lips. “But I wanna have a taste of something else too.”

Frowning, you half sobbed, half moaned, “What?”

He smirked. “Let’s see if you can come from having your ass eaten.”

The shudder that went through you at his words was overshadowed by pleasure when he licked down your pussy, giving a fluttering peck to your neglected entrance before venturing further south. Your perineum received a wet, open mouthed kiss and a nuzzle.

“Hold your legs for me, baby.”, he commanded softly, his breath tingling both your holes.

Snaking your arms around the back of your thighs, you pulled your legs up and away. You were nervous but excited, none of the other boys had rimmed you before. “Hobi, please hurry.”

A nip on your buttcheek made you yelp. “Don’t rush me. I’m going to enjoy this.”

Kneading your buttocks in his palms, he pulled them apart, a butterfly kiss to your asshole followed. Then he laved the puckered hole, making you gasp at the unfamiliar sensation.

“Oh.”, you breathed. “That feels so good.”

You felt him smile. Another light kiss on your rim, then his tongue explored. Circling your asshole and probing at your forbidden entrance till you clenched at the foreign feeling with a groan.

He tsked, clearly disapproving. “Don’t tense up, baby. Open up to me. I love this cute little hole.”

At his urging you relaxed and he began eating your hole with the same enthusiasm as he had your pussy. When his hand slid up to tease your clit once again, your arms gave from beneath you and you thumped on the table, arching your back from the insurmountable pleasure he was giving you.

He was right. You could cum from having your asshole stimulated. The release that had slipped away earlier came hurtling back like a train wreck, with double the force.

Stiffening his tongue, he pushed it up your anus as far as it would go.

“Fuck!”, you cursed at the intrusion.

In your endorphin hazed brain, you registered a noise outside the door that sounded like Hoseok’s name. You ignored it at first, the dancer between your legs making you feel too good to care about anyone barging in.

But then the hesitant voice grew louder. “Hoseok-ssi. It’s Miso, are you in there?”

At first sheer fury coursed through you. And then you smirked.

“Hobi!” Your voice was so loud the man in question paused in his ministrations for a second. “Don’t stop! You eat my ass so good!”

With a shrug, he happily continued, circling your clit with his fingers just the way you liked it.

“Oh fuck yes!” Though your volume was exaggerated, you could feel yourself get closer and closer to the precipice.

This time you didn’t hear the squeak and the rush of footsteps disappearing outside, the blood rushing in your ears drowning out everything else.

“Baby I’m so close.”

“Cum then. Let me see your pretty pussy cum.”, he growled, increasing the torture on the bundle of nerves he was assaulting with his fingers.

When you came, everything went white for a second. The scream of his name was so loud, you were sure the whole building heard you climaxing. The seizure like shudders that racked you had you closing your legs and pulling away his hands because of oversensitivity.

Panting on the table, you flopped on your side to calm down. Hoseok bent over you to caress your hair.

“Are you alright, baby? Did I overdo it?”

Shaking your head, you got up to wrap your arms around his shoulders. “No. You are amazing. Your mouth is amazing.”

You tried to pull him down for a kiss but he turned his face away at the last second. “I just had my tongue up your ass, babe. Do you really wanna kiss me?”

“Shut up.” You gave him a deep, sloppy kiss.

~.~.~

The crew and staff were packing up when you got back to the room after cleaning yourself up in the bathroom. So you headed straight to get your things as well.

You found Jimin seated at the love seat, idly going through your textbook.

You smiled at the adorable furrow of concentration between his brows. “You into history now, Chim?”

Jimin hummed, flipping the book shut before looking up at you. “No, but I heard you’re into rimming.”

Cheeks going tomato red, you stuttered, “D-did you—”

“Yeah. You were very loud.”

Groaning you buried your face in your hands. What felt like a good idea at the time, made you shrivel up in mortification now.

Jimin got up to pull your hands away, giving you an eye smile of reassurance. “Don’t. I loved that you were so loud. I got to know that assplay is not a hard limit for you.”

You gulped. “Jimin.”

He gave you that predatory look, the one he used only in the bedroom, making you shiver. In fear or anticipation, you didn’t know. “Make sure you’re free next Monday.”

Before you could reply, he picked up your bag, placing your book and laptop inside. “Now. Let’s get you home.”

Glancing around, you found the room almost empty. “Where’s everybody?”

Jimin took your hand, interlacing your fingers. “They’re already in the car. Let’s go.”

The driver held open the door of the Escalade when you two arrived outside. You slid in first, immediately snuggling up against Jeongguk who was seated near the other window. Jimin got in behind you.

Yoongi was up front, with Namjoon, Jin and Taehyung making up the back.

“Where’s Hoseok?”, you asked as the car pulled away from the curb.

Jin answered you. “He was invited over for drinks remember.”

“Oh.” You remembered. But you’d forgotten to remind him of the anniversary, too preoccupied with his tempting mouth.

“What’s the matter, __?” Came Taehyung’s sly voice. You glanced at the rearview mirror to see him grinning. When his eyes met yours, the grin vanished in a flash.

You narrowed your eyes, Taehyung’s earlier werid behaviour coming to mind. “Nothing.”

The rest of the ride passed by in relative quiet. Only Jeongguk’s voice telling you about his recent trip back to Busan filled the car. You listened with your head on his shoulder, though your mind was adrift.

You did not fancy the idea of sleeping alone in a cold bed, one of the boys’ constant warmth against you throughout your nights had spoiled you. You were just about to take Taehyung up on his earlier offer to spend the night with him when the car stopped suddenly.

Confused, you sat up straight. It usually took twenty minutes to get to the boys’ dorm, thirty minutes to get to your apartment. It had barely been ten. “What is it? Why did we stop?”

Yoongi turned from his seat to look at you with a fond smile. “Your stop’s here, __.”

“What?” You frowned when Jimin got out of the car, holding out his hand for you to take.

“Just trust us.”, Jeongguk whispered next to you.

With a deep breath you took Jimin’s proffered hand, getting out of the car in the middle of the street.

“What if someone sees us?”, you asked, scared someone might click pictures of you two together. “Where are we?”

Jimin shook his head, turning you toward the footpath on the side of the road. “You know where we are.”

When your eyes left his to glance around, your breath caught. Because you did know where you were.

The lights inside the old bookstore you worked at illuminated your surroundings. Taking a step forward in amazement, you peered up at the two story building, the grey stucco walls of the exterior filling you with nostalgia. After you’d moved into your new apartment almost a year ago, the bookstore became too far out of your way for you commute to daily. You’d also gotten a better paying job working at a cafe. But you’d always missed the quiet of this store, the hundreds of books at your disposal that you had loved to explore. The cafe was too loud, boisterous and hectic in comparison.

A throat cleared behind you and you turned to find Hoseok gazing at you from above the mask he had donned. The car and the rest of the boys were gone.

“Did you really think I’d forget, baby?”

Elation surged through you and you barely restrained the sappy tears that threatened to overflow. He held out his arms and you launched yourself at him, making him laugh.

“So that text was a lie?”

“Hmm.”, he hummed against your hair, pecking your forehead. “They did invite me to hang out but I had to politely reject.”

Hoseok wrapped an arm around your waist. “We should go in. Someone might recognise me out here even with the mask.”

Frowning, you let him lead you towards the front entrance. “Umm, are you sure? Do you wanna pick up a book or something? The lady who owns this building won’t like us having a date in her bookstore.”

Hoseok opened the door, ushering you in. The store was unsurprisingly empty, but you frowned when you saw nobody manning the cash register.

“The lady who owns this store loves me. So I think we’re good.”

Your head snapped back to him. “Who?”

He pursed his lips, clearly suppressing his amusement. Fishing for something in his pocket, he held your hand out, palm side up.

“You.” Two keys on a Superman keyring dropped on your palm.

For a minute you stared at it dumbfounded, not comprehending him. But he spoke before you could bombard him with questions.

“I bought this whole building in your name. It’s yours.” He closed your fingers around the keys.

Blinking up at him, you swallowed at the resurgence of emotion within you. “I-umm”, you looked away. “Hoseok I don’t know what to say. It must have cost a fortune. I can’t accept this.”

“Of course you can.”, he replied breezily, pulling your chin to make you look at him again. “I know you don’t like working at the cafe. They pay you peanuts there anyway. Now you don’t have to. The earnings from this store will be more than enough for your rent, tuition, bills and everything else.”

“I-I don’t know.” The part of you that wanted to earn everything you received rebelled at taking such an expensive gift.

“I knew you would be stubborn.”, Hoseok sighed as if pained he was having to say this. “If you want, you can pay me back on your own time, okay.”

Cracking a smile, you gave him a knowing look. “You and I both know you’re not gonna accept a penny from me.”

He gave you a “duh” look. “ See, you’re smart. Now be a good girl and just tell me you love me.”

You laughed. “Fine. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Cupping your cheeks, he kissed you like he meant it. “Now shall we christen this place?”

“Hobi!”

“What?”, he whined. “The first time we met I wanted to bend you over that table and fuck all the sass out of you.”

Glancing behind you at the old desk and chair you used to spend most of your shift at, you smirked.

Sliding out of his arms, you made your way to the table, swinging your hips just right. When you reached it you placed your elbows on the surface, bending at the waist to wiggle your butt.

“Come get me, Superman.”

Hoseok groaned, stalking toward you like a tiger on the hunt.

A “whooo” escaped you when he gripped your jeans and panties to slide them down in one fell swoop, the garments tangled at your knees.

“I’ve been hard ever since I got the first taste of your pussy. I need it rough and fast this time baby.”, he growled, stroking your pussy before sliding two fingers inside. They slid in without any resistance. “Shit you’re so fucking wet.”

“You ate me out so good, I’m still dripping.”, you moaned as he wedged another finger inside your slick entrance. “Use me, Hobi.”

“Fuck.” You heard the clank of his belt and his zipper going down. He gripped his rock hard length to rub the engorged cock head up and down your slit, spreading his pre-cum and your juices everywhere.

“Put it in.”, you moaned, still oversensitive from earlier. Your battered clit pulsed like a mini heartbeat and from the way Hoseok’s grip tightened on your buttocks, his nails digging in, you knew you were going to be sore after he was done with you.

Positioning his cock at your hole, he buried himself to the hilt inside you with one hard thrust of his dancer hips. The force jerked you up the table, your hands flailing for purchase.

“Oh.” You felt full, so deliciously and utterly stuffed. “Fuck, you’re so big.”

Hoseok paused, letting you adjust and bringing his instincts under control. He did not want to hurt you. “You always take me so well. So fucking tight and warm.”

“Move, Hobi.”, you moaned after a second. “I’m ready.”

He set a punishing pace from the start. Clutching your hips in his hands he slammed you down on his dick as his hips surged upward in thrust after thrust. The slapping sound of skin against skin resounded throughout the store. You still had a hard time believing you were fucking in your old bookstore.

Oh, how far you’d come. From reading smut on this very table to fucking your boyfriend over it.

“I want to hear you, __. Don’t hold back.”, he hissed through his teeth, his hand snaking down to abuse your already sensitive clit some more.

“Shit shit! Oh my god.” Too much sensation assaulted you.

“Fuck, your pussy is squeezing my dick so good.” Hoseok adjusted his position, his length penetrating even deeper inside you. The speed of his pistoning hips doubled, if that was even possible. The table beneath you inched forward against the floor with his every harsh thrust.

Your eyes rolled back in your head. This was the definition of a quick, rough fuck. The semi public nature of it shooting a thrill down your spine. The sign at the front said open, anybody could walk in any moment. Moreover though the desk of the cashier was placed sideways, if one wanted to peer inside the windows, they would definitely get an eyeful.

The idea that someone could be watching you get your brains fucked out, made you even more wanton. Meeting Hoseok thrust for thrust, you reached back to pull his head down to your mouth, the difficult position and the hard slams of his dick inside you meant that you kissed not just his mouth but also his chin, nose and cheeks.

Hoseok laughed. “You’re so cute when you’re desperate, baby.”

“Don’t call me desperate.”, you whined, biting his chin. “Also please make me cum.”

“Whatever you say.”

He looked entirely too pleased with himself, so you clenched your pelvic muscles till your pussy gripped his cock so tight.

His thrusts faltered. “Shit baby.”, he groaned. “Of course you’re not desperate. I’m the one who’s desperate.”

“Better.”

At that Hoseok hauled you up by your arms, circling his hands around your torso to hold you up. The upright position against the table forced him even deeper. He angled his hips just right, the tip of his cock hitting your g-spot every time he drove inside you, coiling that impeding pressure in your belly more and more.

“Are you close?”, he panted against your ear, his finger returning to circle your clit.

“So close.” Gasping, you tilted your head when he bit the crook of your neck. “Just keep fucking me like that.”

The lewd noises of your love making echoed throughout the room, the rough slaps of skin, the incoherent moans, the table shaking beneath you. His thrusts didn’t relent one bit, battering your pussy till you felt that tingle in your spine building and building.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He cursed a storm, his nails digging crescents into your hips. Your walls clenched around his thick length desperately, the friction of him moving in and out too much for you.

“I’m cumming, Hobi! Shit, I’m cumming!”, you screamed, just as he circled your clit roughly one last time, pushing you over the edge.

“Oh my god!” Your second orgasm of the day was just as powerful as the first one, leaving you a barely conscious mess as tsunami waves of pleasure spread like currents through your every nerve ending.

With you reaching your end, Hoseok fucked you like you were a blowup doll, with the sole purpose of reaching his own climax. He used your poor pussy, thrusting inside with supersonic speed. You clenched around him to help him along.

“Shit __!” With a shout of your name he buried himself deep inside you, thick jets of his warm cum painting your inner walls white. After you’d milked him of everything he had to give, he dropped down over you like a sack of potatoes.

“That was amazing.”, you breathed beneath him.

“Yeah.”, he panted. Apparently that was all he was capable of enunciating. Both of you caught your breathing, your thundering hearts slowing to a gallop. Hoseok nuzzled your neck like he wanted to burrow himself within you. You chuckled at his neediness.

Once you’d both calmed down, he got up, taking you with him. After turning you around, he knelt before you. For a second he just watched his cum dribbling down the inside of your thigh, before placing a feather light kiss on your mound, as if apologising to your sore vagina. He pulled up your panties and jeans, fastening the fly.

Eyes softening, you stroked his hair back from his face, gazing down at him with a smitten look on your face. “I love you.”

He was whipped for you as well. Taking your hand he placed a kiss on the inside of your palm. “I love you too.”

Frowning, you looked out the window. “What if someone saw us having sex?”

Chuckling, he got up off the floor. “Then I hope they enjoyed the show.”

#bts fic #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts fluff #Hoseok smut #bts angst #wednesday #7 days a week series #part 2

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sheneversaid · 5 years

Text

Horseback Riding

Summary: When Freddie takes his sweet time, Brian decides to teach you something in horse riding.

Warnings: Smut 18+ please, public sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, language, Dom!Brian, I’m not complaining

Author’s note: Yeah, I might have a slight voyeurism kink but what’s stopping me ?? The reader is displayed as a “blushing virgin”, basically, she’s new to the world of sex, if you don’t like that, you might wanna leave. Dom!Brian makes this cowgirl quake. Have fun reading !! >:D

( this gif makes me feel things i never knew i could holy SHIT )

You were looking out beyond the patio into the darkness of the garden when the rare silence was interrupted by an impatient huff from your boyfriend. You couldn’t help jumping slightly but the corner of your mouth curled up in a bashful smile.

“Cor, Brian. You scared me.”

Brian was slouching forward, facing you with one long, skinny, leg crossed over the other. He grunted as he shifted his weight to the other leg, readjusting himself in the wrought iron chair.

“I thought Freddie said he’d be here by now. We’ve put off ordering all this time, I hope he realizes that.” His tone was playful curt.

“Well, you know Freddie, he never shows up on time for rehearsals so what makes you think he’ll show up for a dinner on time?” You felt yourself jumping again, this time as you felt the touch of Brian’s callused fingertips on your wrist. “Besides, he did apologize in advance should he run late. That was nice of him, don’t you think?

“Tsk…still, it's a lovely evening,” Brian murmured while his hand moved up your forearm gently. His familiar caresses sent goosebumps to breaking on your bare skin, shivering as his touch sent a thrill coursing through your body.

“Cold?” Brian’s lips were mere inches from your neck, sending a new wave of shivers down your body as his breath played against your exposed skin.

“No,” you muttered, your voice somehow far away and faint. “On…the contrary…its,” you swallowed shakily, “quite mild, in fact.”

Brian’s answer came in the form of warm lips planting soft kisses along the line of your shoulder to your neck. “Mmmm, c'mead….” Briefly, Brian pulled the intoxicating heat of his mouth away and you jerked your head towards him, feeling overwhelmed and flustered. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he liked teasing you.

It was too dark to properly see his expression save for a shadow cast on the crease of his cheek to show the hint of a smirk. His long legs were open slightly as he patted an open spot on his lap on the metal chair.

“You want me to-?” You asked quietly.

“Yes,” Brian answered simply, the word a gentle hiss.

With trembling legs, you crossed the short distance between your chair to Brian’s, wriggling with some difficulty into the spot between his legs, facing away at first and letting yourself be enveloped by his body. Against your shoulders, across your back, like sitting in a warm armchair. You giggled quietly as Brian’s breathing tickled your ear, moving closer until you felt something prod into your backside, throbbing like a secret heart. Now you knew why Brian was smirking, the fiend.

“Brian!” You turned your head sideways and looked at him with quiet reproachfulness. Brian, on the other hand, smirked wider, his eyes crinkling at the edges and looking more like a naughty schoolboy caught.

With a shrug, he wrapped his arms around your waist, leaning his comforting weight against you. “I’m sorry, love. It’s just…” He groaned low and brushed his lips against your neck again. “That dress you have on…just looking at you makes me want to pop out.”

You giggled, your face flushing red. “I dare say you are popping out already…”

Brian chuckled fiercely and held you closer, unclasping his hands from your waist. Your breath hissed as his deft hands migrated lower, hitching the smooth material of your dress up to your thighs.

Your eyes shot open. “No, Brian. We can’t…not here…”

Brian moved your hair aside, letting it tumble over your right shoulder in a flaming cascade. He kissed the nape of your neck gently.

“ ‘Can’t’? No…nobody’ll see us. Not if we move to the far corner, hmm.”

You took a deep breath and looked around. Brian had reserved this spot, you assumed so you two and Freddie could have some privacy. The glass door leading the restaurant was only open slightly ajar, letting in a small sliver of soft golden light. The table was near the very edge of the door, in the line of sight, but the far corner wasn’t. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say Brian planned this in advance.

“Well, what if…what if somebody hears us?” You protesting, already feeling like this particular argument was lost before you said anything. Brian shifted his hips against your backside, making you pant. God, he could be persuasive.

“C'mead….” There was a husky yet teasing urgency to his voice, a lusty growl in your ear, making you blush down to your hair roots. “As soon as we get back home, I’ll make love to you nice and slow like you like but now…” his lips smacked wetly against your shoulder as if to punctuate his statement, “…I want to fuck you in that little pretty dress of yours.”

You exhaled sharply, overwhelmed but turned on by your boyfriend’s sharp dominance. How could you say 'No’ to that? You swallowed thickly and half-nodded your consent. You closed your eyes and leaned your head to the side, resting against Brian’s shoulder while his hands slid eagerly up and down your body. At first, you tensed, thinking he was rushing to undress you but the way he plucked and grasped at you through the dress, you might as well have been. Your breath caught as Brian’s soft but strong hands flattened and slid up your thighs, rubbing his fingertip through your panties. You squeezed your eyes shut as he rubbed and pressed hard to your clit through the barrier of damp cotton, a whimper of desperation escaping your lips as he rubbed it in a tight circle.

“Get up,” Brian commanded, his hand stopping dead. For a split second, you forgot about the 'plan’ and was half-prepared to spread your legs for Brian right then and there to get him to keep going but that wasn’t you. Brian rose behind you and made quick work of pushing the chair against the far edge of the patio with a metallic scrape, running a sweaty hand through his tousled hair. You let out a nervous giggle at the sight of Brian, aroused but determined, pushing the chair up at the right angle but the front of his slacks sporting a very obvious bulge. He chuckled back, giving you a sly wink and sat down before beckoning you into the shadows. In a fog, you made your way over, hoping your trembling thighs didn’t betray you need too much but Brian’s heavy-lidded gaze said it all as he looked up at you flustered with your dress half up. Holding his gaze with yours, he unzipped the front of his pants, pulling out his growing erection. You watched transfixed as he stroked his length before remembering what you had to do. Licking your lips, you hiked your dress up further to slide your panties down your thighs.

Brian let out an appreciative hum. “Now take it all the way off and come to me.”

You fumbled as you tried to take your panties off over your high heels and for a paranoid moment you thought Brian was laughing at your inexperience. “No, I have it. Just…let me do it…”

“Okay, I’ll leave you to that,” Brian said with a chuckle. biting his lower lip. Once your panties were off, you didn’t know what to do with them, balling the scrap in your fist but settled for gently placing them on the ground by the chair where Brian was bouncing his leg, looking all parts horny, impatient and amused.

“So…how do we…?”

“You’ve never done this kind of thing before, huh?” You hovered over Brian’s lap with unease. You had sex missionary style before and you had enjoyed it, more than you ever thought you’d enjoy sex but this was…different, nevermind you two were in a public place. What if you were caught? Dear god, what would the press think? Brian’s voice shook you out of your worries.

“Well…pretend you’re…” Brian’s ran a hand through his hair in thought before he snapped his fingers. “Pretend you’re horseback riding!”

You fought the urge to laugh. “ 'Horseback riding’? Brian, what do you know about riding horses?”

Brian chuckled back. “Plenty! Look, here…” he held his cock by the base for you to see clearer, “this is the saddle.” He let go of his erection and spread his palms over his thighs invitingly. “This is the horse. You just get on it and…ride it.”

You smirked, biting your lips to keep from giggling too loud. “That is…creative. Is that all there is to it?”

“Want to see how hard it is?” Brian fixed you with a gaze that almost knocked you breathless. With a moment’s hesitation, you reached out to stroke Brian’s cock, earning you a low sigh of pleasure. You slipped your hand lower, pumping it up and down, feeling it grow and throb in your grip.

“See? It…likes you…” Brian murmured, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. Throwing caution to the wind, you let go of Brian’s cock and grabbed each side of his face, pressing your lips to his into hot, whispery kisses. Grasping the arms of the chair for leverage, you straddled Brian’s lap. Before you could stop yourself from crying out, you felt the head of his cock breech your wet opening. You squeezed your eyes shut at the momentary pain while Brian showered your throat and cheek with loving kisses as you sank down onto him, a hand holding firm to your lower back for support while the other cupped your face.

“Shhh, love…Just relax. Relax.”

When Brian was fully sheathed inside, you didn’t know what to do at first. Brian’s body was as tense as a bowstring and your body was still struggling to occupy Brian’s whole length, squeezing and clamping down on him from the inside. As a simple gesture, you put your hand on his shoulder and his eyes flew open almost comically.

“Uh?”

“Do I just…” Before you could finish your question, you tried as a test to 'ride’ by moving against him, causing a jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine as Brian cock slid and rubbed inside you in the most wicked way.

“Y-yeah! Hang on…” The hand on your lower back moved to your hip, gripping it and forcing it back and forth rhythmically. “Move like that. Can you do that?”

“I’ll try…” You said shakily.

With Brian’s hand guiding you, as you undulated your lower body, taking him deeper as he murmured cut-off noises of encouragement against your lips. Even though you could barely see his face in the darkness, your lips found his as you clung to him, grabbing the front of his buttoned-up shirt and twisting the material with your fingers. Even in the dark, you could see Brian bare his teeth as he growled low. While the hand on your hip was sliding up your now sweaty back, his other hand cupped your breast, flicking your hardened nipple with his thumb. You moaned as quietly as you could manage, a breeze sending your hair whipping against your enraptured face.

“Fuck,” Brian breathed. “You look so fucking sexy like that…”

You didn’t have a moment to be embarrassed like how you usually was when Brian complimented you. Instead, you went faster, which caused him to sharply intake his breath and buck underneath you.

“You’re a natural, babe…a fucking natural…” he panted, mouthing a scalding hot trail down the slope of your neck to where the neckline of your dress dipped. You arched up as you felt your boyfriend’s fingers plunged between your legs, rubbing your raw clit.

“Brian!…I…” Your voice was an insistent whimper as you two drove faster and faster. In the heat of it, you weren’t aware of how fast or hard you two were going except for your escalating panting and gasping noises muffled against one another and Brian’s thighs colliding with yours. “I don’t know…if I can…”

“C'mon, love…don’t stop now…cum for me…c'mon…” Your mouths were hovering just out of reach of one another, puffs of breath hitting his flushed skin. Brian’s finger moved faster as you clutched Brian’s shirt for purchase. You knew you were close as you leaned almost completely back, cumming hard with a muffled moan, quaking and shuddering in Brian’s lap. You tried to hold on while Brian found his release moments after but you were completely limp, nearly falling off. With a breathless chuckle, he righted you, letting you settle against his heaving chest.

“There, I got you…”

They laid in silence trying to recover. Brian, ever the pragmatist, was the one to slid you, sweaty and spent off his lap and set up, straightening up. You excused yourself to the bathroom to check your hair. Luckily you retrieved your panties because when you returned, Freddie and Brian were chatting amiably as if nothing had happened while you and Brian were waiting. You put on an innocent face as you joined them. Brian’s eyes met yours briefly in acknowledgement across the table.

“I hope I didn’t keep you two waiting long, darling,” Freddie said, scratching the back of his head apologetically. “You know, traffic can be a real pain in the ass.”

“Not at all,” Brian’s said and pinched your thigh under the table. “We were just having a conversation about horses.”

You bit your lip. Oh, Brian was going to get it later.

#brian may #brian may smut #brian may imagine #brian may x reader #smut #queen #queen imagine #queen smut #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody imagine #bohemian rhapsody smut

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cupofteaguk · 6 years

Text

exchanges (m)

summary: in which Jeon Jungkook is that friendly neighborhood superhero, you’re the face in the hallway that saved his high school career, and he can’t ever seem to get a grip around you. even when he makes you scream after a fated accident—not for the reason you may be thinking; get the thought out of your head!

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

genre: spiderman au | fluff/smut

warnings: descriptions of bullying, minor injury, unprotected sex

word count: 14k

(the present)

If Jeon Jungkook is against anything in his life, it’s one’s ability to exaggerate certain situations or problems to make those things seem much bigger than they probably were. Well, actually, take that back. It’s not that he’s against it per say, it’s just that his peer’s daily struggles of pop quizzes and missing the morning bus aren’t exactly headliner news—especially in comparison to what he has to go through.

Jeon Jungkook is against exaggeration, probably because he can’t get away with it himself. It’s not that he doesn’t like to exchange his fair share of embellished stories or fabricated events weaved into true experiences, it’s that he can’t afford to do so. Sharing stories of his nightly routines and dashing superhero adventures may seem great, but only if he could manage the burden of a personal life and a masked life intertwining.

As an 18-year-old boy, he can probably say it's safe to assume that he cannot. Manage the overwhelming, opposite pressure both of his lives take him, that is. It's difficult enough being a college freshman, a tiny fish in an ocean of whales and sharks, but throw in his late night Spiderman facade would be too much of a tale to share with other people and peers who probably ask too many questions and know too much about him. He's never liked the exposure that comes with being in the spotlight, and he can't hide behind his mask if people knew who he was.

Oh. Right. Speaking of his Spiderman facade, that's who is he. Haven't heard of him? You know, the dashing hero of Seoul, red and blue spandex attire with a web shooter, fine tuned senses and amazingly quick reflexes? The boy who swings around the city, volunteering for trouble and always coming out right on top? The boy who constantly maintains that casual, slightly amused tone throughout a majority of his rescues?

Yeah, well, that's Jungkook.

It's a role he has occupied gladly for about two years at this point, after an unfortunate accident at a lab he was interning at during his junior year of high school cursed him with these abilities of spider-like sensibility. Rather than run away from his powers, he chose instead to embrace it and it's almost been two and a half years at this point and he doesn't see any signs of stopping. He keeps that shadow of his life private, refusing to indulge, avoiding those conversations like the plague, keeping a wry eye out in a way that usually isn't perceived as paranoia, and for the first two years of his Spiderman role, he actually gets along quite nicely.

Until one eventful night, a day he remembers quite clearly leading up to that point. It's a Tuesday when it happens, a domino effect of bad luck prior to the inevitable in a way that tells Jungkook that perhaps he shouldn't have been all that taken aback that something like this would happen to him. First off, he had overslept his alarm that morning, leaving in a mad rush across the campus to try and get to his art lecture on time. His calculus professor had completely called him out today for his decreased academic performance on the last test—although to be fair, Jungkook actually didn't study for that test, he was too busy stopping an armed robbery at a bank. His history professor had dropped a pop quiz on the class, an assignment that Jungkook is almost 99.99% sure he had failed.

He had known that perhaps after all those things, the best way to spend the rest of his evening would have been to actually pick up a book and actually try to study for history or actually put some effort into a math question that would probably only take 10 minutes to complete. But no. Jungkook wouldn't be Jungkook if he didn't chase the nightlife, didn't chase after the rush and thrill of the powers he still hasn't completely grown accustomed to having. He had decided, instead, to dawn on the red and blue spandex, adjust the web shooters he had to manufacture on his own, before taking to the sky. There's always a difficulty sneaking out of the dorms, and even more so trying to get off the campus. But he moves with a certain stealth and a certain practiced grace that he's learned to embrace that excitement of sneaking off a college campus.

It's returning back that night that changes everything, all because of a dormitory power outrage and just the simple fact that Jungkook doesn't really know the layout of the building (or the placement of his room) as well as he thought he did. The ever-present darkness that encompasses the complex leaves Jungkook with little option but to estimate the area of which he believes his own dorm is located, as he crawls his way up the windows, pretty confident that he lived on the third floor, fourth window over from the edge.

Or was it the third floor, sixth window from the edge?

Fuck.

This momentary lapse in his assurance comes a little too late, however, because he lets down his guard at the sight of seeing an opened window. He always left his window open before leaving, so maybe he's been overthinking the situation and maybe he really does know the location of his dorm from the outside.

So he slides through, landing with a soft plop onto the carpet as he lets the exhaustion of the day finally start to catch up to him. Because of the darkness, the only light coming in through the moonlight, he fails to notice the Captain America posters that line the walls, or the polaroids from strings, or the floral print on the bed as he lets out a sigh into what he thinks is an empty dorm and practically throws himself atop what he thinks is his mattress.

A shift of movement underneath him, a startled scream, jerks Jungkook out of his lapse into dreamland as he springs out of bed at the same time the figure underneath him straightens up as well.

“What the fuck!” A startlingly familiar voice cries from below.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry—I’m sorry, I thought this was my room—!”

At once, the lights overhead turn on and the sight makes Jungkook's heart drop, beat a sudden mile a minute, and also feel as if it might crawl up his throat all at once. He feels his breath catch in his throat, the color flush against his cheeks that would probably match the red of his uniform had it not been for the mask covering his face—but this reaction to seeing someone in a bed is not for the reason one may think.

Because sitting in said bed, blanket pulled up to chest, no makeup, hair reduced to waves and curls that spray out across shoulders, eyes wide, but still the same face that he's spent the past three years admiring and crushing on hard from afar—is you.

Yes, you. The same you he's been crushing on for three years, the same you who smiled at him in the halls as if he was the only person in the room that mattered, the same you who didn't hesitate to help him gather his books back when he was getting shoved into lockers and being told that he would never mean anything to anyone.

You were alway the exception to his tragic high school life, one that is defined by his attempts to get a hang of his powers whist balancing school and his worrying parents, and trying to stop flinching every single time he turned the corner in the school hallway. You were always better, always that shimmering stardust in the pits of his night sky, as cliche as that sounds. To say he's been in love with you for three years would probably be a bit dramatic, given that the pair of you have rarely ever even exchanged a word of conversation since he met you, but the small hellos and shy waves of acknowledgment the pair of you have been exchanging since the very first encounter would probably be enough to say that Jungkook has always been incredibly fond of you and nothing in his right mind was going to change that.

He had heard through the grapevine that you would be attending the same university as him, and felt a mixture of apprehension and excitement at the thought of being able to see more of you around the campus and outside of the embarrassment that was his high school career. Even though the college campus is much bigger, and the differing majors keeps the pair of you apart, he really does learn to cherish the moments he can catch a glimpse of you around the campus. Whether it's walking to your classes, or talking to a friend, or reading a book, or listening to the music, he feels like they're all pieces of the puzzle that make up your life and he wants to learn as much as he can. Is that creepy?

Maybe. But okay. Back to reality.

The reality where he's standing right across from you, close enough where he can see the rapid rise and fall of your chest and the wild look in your eyes. It looks as if you had been seconds away from drifting off to sleep and while he feels bad for interrupting that process, since he can only assume from the bags underneath your eyes that you aren't getting as much sleep as you would probably like, there's also a swelling in his chest and a rapid thumping of his heart because if he had known he was going to be seeing you today, he might have tried to avoid the sight of him in a ridiculously tight spandex attire.

Speaking of the spandex attire.

It's something your eyes brush down upon immediately, taking in the red and blue mix of the fabric to the black spider across his chest and your eyes grow wider, but with a different kind of recognition. You're about to open your mouth to say something, anything, and his heart is in his throat and he thinks you might scream again, but a sudden pounding against the door of your dorm startles the pair of you out of your resolve.

You meet his gaze across the way, eyes alert and a thousand questions packed into a flicker.

Another knock jerks you into movement as you kick off the covers and make your way to the door, leaving Jungkook little choice but to throw himself behind the bed and hope that the boxes and drawers you have packed underneath your bed would do enough to keep him hidden from whoever lay waiting on the other side.

He can hear you throwing open the door. "A-Ah, hey Namjoon, what's up?"

"You alright?" A deep voice inquires immediately, and Jungkook recognizes the voice and your acknowledgment of the figure on the other side as Kim Namjoon, the RA of the hall. Even though he knows he's in absolutely no position to feel this way, Jungkook can't help the pang of jealousy that spikes itself in his heart. Did Namjoon have any idea how difficult it was for Jungkook just to inhale oxygen around you? How could the older boy speak to you with such ease?

But Jungkook keeps his mouth shut. It's not like he's in a position to start snapping about that right now.

"I heard you scream," Namjoon continues from whatever previous conversation you and the older boy had been having while Jungkook was dozing off.

"O-Oh right," You say in a small, slightly squeaky voice. "Sorry for worrying you, I just... fell off the bed," You end lamely. "I was napping and didn't know the power had gone out, so when it did go on I guess I just started freaking out. Sorry about that."

"Oh, alright," Namjoon dismisses, although he doesn't sound entirely convinced. Jungkook wonders just how much time you and Namjoon spend together for the older boy to get accustomed to your tone of voice and how the air around you hangs and the thought only leaves an even more bitter tang in the pit of his stomach. "Just be more careful next time."

"I know," You wave away, and Jungkook can practically hear the smile in your voice, knowing the tone of it from his own personal experience from the handful of small conversations the pair of you have shared in the past. "But it's good now. Thanks for checking up on me."

"Of course. See you tomorrow."

That's the last words Namjoon gets to throw in before you're closing the door, and Jungkook can hear the shift of your movements as you spin on your heel to face the vicinity of your dorm once more. "U-Um," You stammer out. "You can come out now."

Realizing that you're talking about him, Jungkook springs up into a standing position with a little more force than necessary. The sudden gesture leaves him slightly winded and he almost tips over because of the sudden head rush, but he forces himself to keep his ground with the knowledge that if he said something or did the wrong thing then you would figure it all out. Although he has his doubts about your ability to see who he really was under the mask, given that the pair of you haven't exchanged enough conversations or spent enough time around one another to gain the knowledge about certain characteristics such as nervous gestures or a general idea towards the tone of each other’s voices, Jungkook stills finds himself worrying. He uses your momentary lapse of silence to think through his situation. How should he address you? Should he just whip off the mask and announce himself as Spiderman right before your very eyes? Should he keep the mask on and just play the role of the friendly neighborhood superhero? What if he mixed everything up? What if he kept the mask on, but stuttered and stammered so much at the very sight of you that you picked up on his identity immediately?

It’s always been easy to differentiate Jeon Jungkook from Spiderman, always easy to pretend like the mask was a way to actually hide away all the things that made Jungkook Jungkook—but things have never been easy when it came to you, which is ironic given that walking with you and being with you has always as easy as breathing. It’s a difficult sensation to describe.

His heart starts to pound quicker with the realization that his time to come up with a proper response to the issue at hand is gradually starting to dwindle. It’s hard to think and run through his options consistently, especially when you’re standing before him in nothing but an oversized t-shirt that’s about an inch above your thigh. The senses he had been gifted with are of no help, everything around him feeling like the intensity has been dialed to some double feature. It feels as if he’s hyperaware of everything now—from the breeze of the opened window to the movement of footsteps outside the hall to the overwhelming smell of lavender and he stiffens because you smelled like lavender—!

As it turns out, you end up being the one to find your voice first. “Holy shit,” You say by way of greeting, and Jungkook swears he can feel his head growing light from the sound of your voice. He’s pretty certain that you sound as if your vocal chords have been laced with strands of silky gold that float out every single time you open your mouth. “You’re Spiderman.”

He chokes on the next words, physically having to restrain himself from accidentally letting your name slip past his lips with the knowledge that that would bring on a whole other slew of questions. He covers the strangle in his throat with a cough, hoping that you would think he’s merely trying to clear his throat. “Y-Yes I am! Nice to meet you… here in your room.”

You follow the craning of his neck as his gaze flits over your wallpaper and your room. There is another bed next to the door and he briefly frets about your roommate but your next question does good work in ridding of that previous worry.

“Do you… attend school here?” You finally ask, incredulous voice and arms crossed over your chest and oh boy, oh boy, if you knew, if you knew.

Jungkook stands still under the facade, watching you just as intensely as you are watching him, and he wishes he could tell you everything right here but the timing of it all feels distant and awkward enough. If he could barely keep himself together with the mask on, who knows what kind of burning bridge he could create with the mask off.

“D-Don’t tell anyone,” He settles with disclosing, lowering his head slightly. “It’d be really helpful, and I would appreciate it.”

Lips still parted, you nod. “O-Of course.”

Seeing you in a momentary stump gives Jungkook the confidence to carry on with the conversation, finding it easy to not act like himself since you’re not acting like yourself either.

“Great, thanks,” Jungkook takes a few steps away from you to reach the open window. He extends his arms behind him to grip the edge of the ledge, deciding for a moment that he likes seeing you so taken aback at the sight of him—even if not for the reason he wants. “Sorry about the mix up, by the way.”

You’re still staring at him, and although your arms have lowered, your eyes are still widely fixed on him. “It’s okay,” You speak, voice barely just above a whisper.

Jungkook nods towards your walls. “I like your posters, by the way,” He remarks casually, gesturing to the giant photos of Captain America and you follow his head tilt as if you had completely forgotten you had Captain America posters in the first place. “Although I’m a more of an Iron Man fan myself.”

You whip your gaze back towards him. “Now wait a moment—!” You point out, but the rest of your words are swallowed back into your mouth when you turn your attention back to the window only to find that the space where Spiderman once stood is empty.

On the other side of the wall, Jungkook remains stuck to the outside right next to you window, heart stammering as he keeps his hands and feet firmly pressed against the plaster of the building. From his position, he doesn’t see the way your gaze lingers on the window, the way you look back at your Captain America posters, nor the way the corner of your lips turn up at the strange unexpected turn of your Tuesday evening.

(the past)

The first time you ever saw Jeon Jungkook, you are 15 years old, and he is getting shoved into the lockers right next to you.

It’s strange how well you hold this memory to your consciousness.

But it had been an unusual first-day-of-school, granted that you were moving in from a different town in the middle of the year and the experience is not unlike being thrown into the middle of a movie set where the movement and daily routine whirls around you and leaves you breathless and forced for adjustment. You had known before setting foot onto the campus that there was definitely going to be some catching up on your part, but you hadn’t known that you’d be encountering a bully attack right out of the gate.

So, naturally, you jump and make a little noise in the back of your throat as the contact of body meeting metal locker hits your ears. You tighten your grip on your books before it slips from your grasp as you immediately fix your gaze on the source of the noise. Standing next to you with his face scrunched in pain and teeth clenched together, the boy looks to be about your age, a tender 15-years-old, second year at this horror hell of educational means. Your eyes are quick to scan his appearance, gray jacket zipped up with the sleeves frayed from overuse. The hoodie he once wore over his head is knocked clean off the top, revealing a mop of unkempt black hair. He's got soft looking features across the paler complexion of his skin, and the sight makes your heartbeat quicken in your chest as a rush of sympathy and protective nature overcomes your nerves.

You long to open your mouth to say something, anything, but the rough voices behind you cut you off. "Watch where you're going Jeon; the morning excuses no one." The tone is rough and sharp, amused and cruel, before it's gone much too soon as if this type of activity is like clockwork and has been practiced on more than one occasion.

The thought isn't entirely comforting, which is probably what propels you to fix your gaze on the boy pressed against the locker. His eyes are still shut, and he's taking measured breaths. You notice almost immediately that no one lingers near him. No one stops to make sure he's doing okay, or that the shove hadn't caused permanent damage to his back, or if he can still manage a smile after this kind of morning. No one even makes eye contact with him as they rush past him with the excuse of making it to first period. The sight is practically heartbreaking as you watch students avoid the boy like he is the plague, no one desperate enough to catch his bad luck. He opens his eyes, casting them downwards, collecting his thoughts.

Still cradling the books in your hand, you shift in your standing position before attempting to reach an arm out towards the boy to ask if he's okay, but the boy flinches when he catches movement out of the corner of his eye. He fixes his gaze on yours for the very first time and his eyes are like the night sky, a shade of darkness that is surprisingly far from angry or frightened or moody. Instead, there is a loneliness that lingers like glimmers of a night sky, an emotion that you feel brewing in the pit of your own stomach—the idea that it’s possible to be surrounded by people every single day but still feel entirely and inescapably empty.

You don’t know a thing about him, and he doesn’t know a thing about you, but you find yourself gravitating towards him at once. You sympathize for him, but you also relate to his feelings and you wonder if he can see the concern flickering in your wide eyes once the initial shock of a rather unique morning greeting starts to fade away.

You, however, do not get to find out whether or not he’s noted of the emotions in your eyes. As soon as you try to open your mouth to say something, the boy is gone. He is a rush of blurred movements, pulling further and further away from you until he is darting away and not even sparing you a second glance. He leaves you alone, standing in the gradually emptying hallway, questions springing into your mind like wildflower, until the tardy bells rings and you curse. Nothing to start off the first day of a new school by being late.

You wish you could forget the boy as quickly as he could run away from you, run away from the bullies and the pain he’s probably hiding underneath that gray sweatshirt and eyes only you seem to be able to read, but life doesn’t work out in the way you wish it could. The earth continues to rotate, the day continues to pass by, the time continues to tick, and all of those things are like seeds of curiosity that plant themselves in your mind until you can physically feel it festering into a tree.

(the present)

The question of whether or not Jungkook would return the following night becomes a debate in it of itself as he spends a majority of the time leading up to the darkening sky pacing about in his dorm. His roommate has a tendency to let the day slip past his fingers wasting away in the library in desperate attempts to fill up his mind with Philosophical terms and conditional means—not that Jungkook minds the alone time. In fact, the constant absence of his roommate makes sneaking out all the more easier.

But sneaking out to chase trouble and sneaking out to see you, while both situations somewhat involve the same circumstances of Jungkook dressing into the suit and leaping through the opened window, feel different. Would using the Spiderman facade just to see you, and using the opportunity to have you see him not as Jeon Jungkook for once, be an abuse of power?

Maybe. Was that wrong, though? Was it wrong that he can’t get the mental image of you looking so taken by his physical appearance out of his head? Was it wrong to feel like the roles have reversed for once in his life and maybe catch a glimpse of what you saw every time he looked at you? Was it wrong that he finally had the covering he has always so desperately longed for that could help him look you in the eye for once in his life?

He thinks about feelings and validation, and starts out of his chair. He pulls the suit up and over his body, running a hand through his hair one last time before slipping on the mask, grabs the item resting upon his desk, and darting through the opened window. A web shoots out from the slinger, taking him across the way into the adjacent dorm building just a few feet away from his own. He rolls onto the rooftop, straightening and turning back around to face the structure he just escaped from. He stares through the windows, taking in the drawn curtains or the opened ones, the loud conversations and the ones he can’t hear at all.

Drawing only from his memory of yesterday, Jungkook fixes his gaze upon the general area he remembers lingering about in last night. Of course, his only real memory to draw from is the darkened area from the power outage, but maybe if he’s quiet and patient and the timing is right then maybe, just maybe—!

The answer presents itself to him within the next five seconds, when the flicker of movement from the window on the third floor, fourth from the edge, catches his attention and he narrows his eyes on the activity going on inside the room. In spite of the fact that everything he is currently doing is intentional, he can’t help the way his heartbeat quickens at the sight of you opening up the window of your dorm. Your hair falls forward like a curtain as you poke your head outside, as if you’re looking for something, before retreating back in.

The eleven o’clock hour finds you at your desk, as Jungkook watches you slip on your headphones and flip open the pages of a textbook along with opening your laptop. He finds himself tilting his head, curiosity blossoming in his features as he feels this desperate urge to know as much about you as humanly possible overcome him. The nerves grow in his chest at the thought of his arrival having a more negative, more distracting result, but the weight of the item in his hand brings him back.

Stealing away the hesitancy in his features, Jungkook leaps and shoots webbing just above your window, slipping in through and somehow managing a landing on his feet. The ruckus of his movement catches your attention as you jerk up in your seat and immediately pull the headphones out of your ear. “Spiderman?” You inquire incredulously.

He barely misses the way your lips quirk up at the sight of him, because he overshoots the sturdiness of his feet and accidentally tips forward enough to send him faceplanting onto the carpet of your dorm. “Hey—oh, shit!” He scrambles, but of course to no luck as he finds himself, once more, making a giant fool of himself in front of you.

As he tries to ready himself back up into a standing position, he fails to see the way your lips split out into a wider grin. “A-Are you alright?” You try kindly, reaching out for him, only to stop and bring your hands back down to your sides.

“Y-Yeah, of course. I’m great,” He brushes off, trying to keep his cool composure even though his cheeks feel like they’ve just been set aflame. “Thought I’d just drop by real quickly.”

‘Real quickly’. As if the thought of slipping into your room had been a spur of the moment idea, and not something that he has been losing his mind over for the past few hours.

You’re still staring at him, light smile dusting across your face, already looking more relaxed at the sight of his presence, as if you were expecting it, as if you were anticipating his return. “Any particular reason why?”

As soon as Jungkook has straightened up into a proper standing position, he notes the way you take a step closer and he hopes that the way he tenses up at the gesture goes by unnoticed. You’re so close that you have to look up at him through lashes, and he sees how big your eyes are, how many specks dance underneath the colors, and he’s fairly certain that he could get lost in the seemingly vast endlessness of the whole thing.

The way you quirk the corner of your lips leaves Jungkook to return to the fact that you had asked him a question and he coughs, knowing that the phrase ‘Because I was thinking about you’, while true, would probably not be appreciated and he did not want to make you uncomfortable with the knowledge that Spiderman was trying to flirt with you. Which, while may be the case, wasn’t something he was eager to drop on you right out of the fucking gate. As far as you knew, this was only your second encounter with Spiderman.

“Because,” Jungkook fills in after a moment. “I, well, I’ve brought something for you. An exchange of sorts.”

You raise an eyebrow. “An exchange?” You repeat. “I didn’t do anything wrong—you were the one who threw yourself on me—!”

“Alright, fine. Maybe the incident was my fault.” He finds himself smiling a little. “But I only want a small price from you—your name.”

You blink. “My name?”

He feels his lips quirking up into a wider smile. “Well, yes, don’t you have one?”

“Of course I do!” You retort, and he can’t help the laugh that escapes his lips, even though he already knows the answer to the question. “It’s Y/N.”

“See, was that so hard?” He finds himself teasing, heart racing when he catches your lips turning up as well. “Here’s my half of the exchange—an apology gift for scaring you yesterday.”

Suddenly, you laugh—that beautiful melody that makes him crack a smile of his very own. “It wasn’t that terrifying,” You brush off with a shrug. “And I was supposed to be getting up anyways for studying—so in a way, you actually helped out quite a bit.”

He doesn’t know what’s more satisfying: the fact that he’s not falling apart or the fact that you seem to be enjoying the conversation immediately. It’s probably part of your pleasant nature, sure, but he doesn’t feel that desire to say some practiced phrase before throwing himself off a cliff this time. “That’s reassuring to know,” He says, pulling the item from his side anyways. “Regardless, I’ve decided to bring you sometimes anyways.”

“That’s so sweet of you,” You gush, taking the gift from Jungkook. It appears to be a poster of some kind, rolled up into a cylinder shape, but you don’t comment as you unroll the paper. He can see the anticipation drawn heavily in your eyes, lips curled up as your gaze takes in the photo across.

It’s an Iron Man poster.

Your lips part slightly, darting your attention back over to him, already finding him taking a few steps back towards the window once more. “Now wait a minute—!” You retort.

“You’ll thank me later,” Jungkook interjects, raising two fingers towards his forehead to salute you off. “See you around Y/N,” He says, wondering and hoping that you could hear the grin in his tone, the promise in his words, the longing to see you again even before you’ve left his sight.

You’re still standing in the middle of the room, poster in hand, before you look up to smile at him. “See you around, Spiderman,” You return.

He sees your slightly timid wave before turning back around to face the window to hide his own embarrassment, as if the mask alone wasn’t enough to hide his own private smile. He wonders if you’ll hang up the Iron Man poster; but above all he wonders if you mean it.

(the past)

The sight of your second encounter with Jeon Jungkook, while it is so much more different than seeing him getting shoved into a locker, is equally as depressing. It’s enough to make you feel as if all hopes of attempting to rid your memories of the boy have gradually started to fade away.

The days since you’ve seen him—Jeon, they had called him, leaving you with a vague feeling that perhaps that was his last name—slowly start to turn into weeks that you can count with one hand. Your relatively quiet and knowledgeable disposition lands you a small group of friends after a success partnered chemistry lab, girls who keep to themselves just as you do. They give you a place to sit during lunch and invite you into their conversations, supplying backstories and names, sharing their childhood in exchange with yours. It’s the fastest group of friends you ever make, so your smile is one of genuine nature as you finally feel equipped to bring up a question that has been plaguing your mind since your very first day of school.

It’s a question you’re almost afraid to lead into the light until you see him taking a corner table at the far end of the cafeteria during lunchtime, the point furthest away from the crowds of other students. You watch carefully and openly, observing the way he takes nibbles of his sandwich and doesn’t look over his shoulder to see if anyone can see if he’s eating alone. Like he’s use to it.

“Who’s that boy over there?” You find yourself asking before you could think about the gravity of your question. “I saw him on my first day getting shoved into the lockers.”

Karly barely spares a glance at the direction you are gesturing towards. “Oh, that’s Jeon Jungkook,” She answers quietly. “He’s been a target of the bullying since freshman year.”

“Why?” You ask, only tearing your gaze away from Jungkook when Karly tugs hard at the sleeve of your sweater.

“The other boys say he’s too weird, or too smart, or too different…” Karly explains. “Don’t stare for too long, he’ll drag you down.”

Drag you down? You throw Karly an incredulous look at how she uses too much practiced ease to describe Jungkook as an offensive weight rather than an actual human being. Something about the way she says the statement doesn't sit entirely well with you, but the finality in her tone keeps you from saying anything more on the subject.

(the present)

True to the unspoken pact conveyed through words, longing glances, and shy smiles, Jungkook elects to return back the following night without an ounce of hesitation. The desperation to see you is something that he can feel throughout all his nerves, making everything inside of him shake and curl with anticipation. He makes his way to the college, to the dorms, to you, all with a smile tugging broadly at his features.

He brings Thai food that night with the excuse that he merely needed to continue with the apology gifts in the form of food, to which you excitedly exclaimed that you were desperately in need of a pick-me-up at the eleven o’clock hour. His lips quirk up when he sees the Iron Man Poster hanging over your desk, but he doesn’t bring it up and neither do you.

His active participation in your life starts to become a regular occurrence. Always at the same eleven o’clock hour, always accompanied with a gift of some kind, always provided forth with the same excuse of the little exchange game Jungkook has come up with. Always a present as a reward to hear about your day: from the bad to the good and the little small moments in between. Even though he has a full day of classes and studying (or, okay, perhaps not that much studying) much like you, it’s always interesting to hear about a life not threatened by the abnormality of outside robberies or attacks or having to listen to the news constantly or living practically every single day of a life to ensure that he could protect another.

He wants to hear about a day that’s, essentially, normal and untouched by the terrors of horrible people. You provide that reassurance, that comfort, by never asking too much or too little of him. By having his mask on, he gets to see you with yours off—and there is a freeness to your laughs and your smiles, your interesting stories and your ability to always see the positives in every situation. You indulge in your insecurities and it’s in those little moments where he’s Spiderman, but he’s never felt more closer to who he really is. He likes hearing about your classes, about your asshole of a math professor, or the roommate who rarely shows up because of her boyfriend.

“Do you have a totem?” You ask one particular evening, picking up a piece of orange chicken from the Panda Express takeout he had run by before coming over to see you. He’s also come to find that you’ll pretty much eat anything and your dislike of food is quite limited—again, it’s like another piece of the puzzle he has learned to take full advantage of in getting to know you better.

Jungkook stills momentarily. “Ah, what do you mean?”

“I mean,” You start, shifting a little and tugging down on your sweater before it could ride too far up your side. “You put yourself in a lot of danger, right? Sometimes, aren’t you ever afraid?”

He doesn’t say anything to the question. He stares down at the chow mein on your plate. “I-I don’t know,” He lies, because of course he’s been afraid. Who wouldn’t be afraid of the fear that one day, all the sneaking around and the hidden traces of his identity would be for nothing? Who wouldn’t be afraid of the thought that someone would find him and hurt not just him but everyone in his life who he loved and who he held dear to? He doesn’t speak of the nightmares that plague his dreams, the nights where he wakes up in a cold sweat because he hadn’t been careful enough. “I’ve, uh, never really thought of that before.”

You hum, studying him closely and Jungkook can feel himself shifting underneath your attention. How was it that you more often than not had these looks that made him feel that he was without the suit and you could see every raw emotion that danced behind his eyes? “Well, let’s just say that you were afraid,” You reply. “Is there anyone you could think of that could ground you? Or, at least, remind you that there is always a light at the end of the tunnel?”

Light at the end of the tunnel. The last part of your question stirs something inside of Jungkook, who knows the answer to it before processing it in his mind. His mind whirls back three years to that fated encounter in the hallway and the many different instances that followed, the first genuine smile of understanding and not of sympathy he ever got, the only person who made him realize that perhaps he could get through the remaining years of that hellhole called high school.

“Y-Yeah…” He replies rather breathlessly, keeping his eye on you as you lean over to grab another orange chicken. “There’s someone that I have in mind.”

“Aw,” You coo, adjusting your position on the ground, continuing to give him all your attention. “What’s this person like? A family member? A friend?”

“Oh n-no,” He stammers, turning his head to the side to scratch the back of his neck. “It’s this girl that I knew. From high school.”

Your eyes light up. “Oh, well, a crush, huh? Who knew the infamous Spiderman has a soft spot? What’s she like? Do you bombard her with posters of Iron Man as well?”

He laughs tightly at that, because if only you knew, if only you knew. “I-I do, but I doubt she knows that I exist. But she’s—wow. She’s amazing. She’s been through a lot with me and I just, I just wished she knew how much she meant to me. I would do anything for her.”

He sneaks a look back at you, heart stuttering when he sees the glimmer of admiration in his eyes, as if the thought of him finding happiness in the simplest things and the most seemingly insignificant of moments and people made you happy and holy shit. This is it. This is why he’s been in love with you for three years, this is why he’s had and will always have a soft spot for you. “It sounds like you’re really fond of her. Well,” You add, a hint of grand finality in your tone as you take the last orange chicken and grin at his whine of protest. “I hope you’ll get the courage to tell her one day. You should definitely go all We Bought A Zoo on her.”

“We Bought A Zoo?” He repeats, furrowing his eyebrows as he watches you take that last lovely piece of orange chicken.

“Yeah,” You exclaim. “You know, that line.” You swallow, gaping slightly at his blank look. “That line! ‘Sometimes all you need is just twenty seconds of insane courage’. That should be your motto.”

You finish up your chow mein, too preoccupied with the sudden consumption of your food to notice his own dazed disposition. He rolls the quote in his mind. Twenty seconds. It didn’t sound too hard in theory. It could take twenty seconds to pull the mask off, twenty seconds to spill his guts and his love for you, twenty seconds to say it all.

Or, twenty seconds to rip the mask off, kiss your cheek, and throw himself out of the window; never to be seen again.

“I’ll consider it.” That’s all he settles with disclosing, watching as you hum around your bottled water.

(the past)

The third time you see Jeon Jungkook, it's the end of the day and the sound of a body making contact with the ground snaps you out of your resolve as you whip around to see the boy who has been occupying your thoughts for the past few days on the ground. His books and paperwork are scattered about and he suddenly looks smaller than he did getting shoved into a locker or sitting by himself in a sea full of people. The same group of boys from before are towering over Jungkook, equal smirks and snarls across ugly faces as a notebook is kicked away from the boy's grasp. It slides across the floor, hitting the heel of your shoe as you linger near your locker, trying to blend in yet make your feet move at the same time, Karly's previous warning in your mind be damned.

The warnings that leave lips go by completely unheard of by you as you find that the only thing you can focus on is Jungkook and his crumpled figure on the school floor, not moving an inch in or out of place as the boys give each other one last side glance before heading off in the opposite direction. Given that it's the end of another school day, the hallways are completely devoid of students, with the exception of you and Jungkook now. You watch him, and you don't know if he's watching you, but he definitely makes a point not to look up at you as he pushing himself up so he could sit on his knees. He starts reaching out, grabbing for his fallen books and pencils and notebooks, reminding you that one of his own spiral bound journals is near your feet.

You settle with not closing your locker, afraid that the noise of the slamming metal would disturb the unusual peacefulness that has settled between the pair of you, bending down instead to gather the notebook in your arms. The boy is just finishing up his collecting before you kneel down next to him. "Uh, I believe this is yours," You say by way of greeting, cursing the situation at once because out of all the things you could have possibly said in the English dictionary, you just had to say that. Of course the notebook was his, how could it not be after someone thought to kick it out of Jungkook's grasp as he was reaching for it.

You wish you had given yourself a second just to mentally prepare what to say before opening your mouth, if only to make the first words you ever said to this boy to be ones of comfort or reassurance and not ones of obvious means.

Jungkook swallows thickly, flickering his gaze up to you and you see it again: the isolation and loneliness and these different emotions each taking up a glimmer in his dark eyes. There is more of a hopelessness this time that you can read as clear as a book, and you wonder if anyone has ever been close enough to Jungkook physically to see this type of activity. Even more, if anyone has seen his eyes the way you see it and has actually tried to do something about it.

Given that he's still here, alone, probably as he's always been, does not do reassuring things to your stomach.

"Thanks," Jungkook says stiffly, voice low and somewhat cracked from underuse as he takes the notebook without even trying to meet your gaze.

"I-I'm sorry you have to go through this," You say quickly before your mind could stop the words from escaping, not missing the way he visibly stiffens at your apology.

"You don't have to apologize," Jungkook grumbles, tucking the notebook you had given him underneath his arm. "You aren't doing anything wrong."

"I..." You start again, trailing off when the words fail you. For someone with too much to say, there seems to be only silence greeting you on the other side as there are so many things you long to say to Jungkook. But your shyness, your hesitance, your fear of disclosing too much and frightening him, or saying too much only to be met with even more quiet, keeps your throat closed. "No one deserves to go through what you're going through," You mumble instead, actually unsure if Jungkook can hear you or not.

With the way he suddenly turns his head to look at you, you can only assume that he has. Bravely, you lift your head up to meet his gaze, if only to take in that endless shade of darkness with a flickering of light that shimmers like a speck behind his eyes. You keep your eyes on him, even as his eyes roam across your face, clearly trying to gauge your expression for signs of sarcasm or amusement. You wonder if he's worried a group of people will come out with cameras, only to be told that the event going on before him had been nothing more than a means for a horrible, horrible prank. But you keep your silence, you keep your eyes on him to show off your genuine intentions.

Jungkook looks away suddenly, not quite sure how to hold himself in the face of you. You are, essentially, a stranger, yet you're here and you've somehow managed to say the right thing at the right time. He wonders if it would be appropriate to disclose how he recognized you immediately after he almost crashed into you that faithful morning at the lockers. Or, if it would be socially acceptable to blurt out how looking at you made him feel seen for the first time in his entire life.

But he doesn't say anything, and neither do you, as Jungkook straightens up and you quickly follow suit. The pair of you continue with your silence, unsure whether or not to break it, unsure if he should thank you for helping you out, or if you should continue supplying some kind of reassurance to the boy. For some reason, all those things feel excessive and unnecessary; which is why Jungkook leaves you by your locker with a sort of quiet understanding of one another. It's not a bad place to walk away from.

(the present)

Jungkook is no stranger to the white hot agony of physical pain, he’s definitely had his fair share of attacks that don’t always swing his way or enemies that have a lot more backup or quick wit or strength than Jungkook has. This is not new to him. In fact, the boy is actually quite use to returning back from his nightly adventures with bruises along his side or cuts along his face that take more than a few weeks to heal. He’s partially glad that his roommate nor do any peers bother to ask questions about his whereabouts or how he’s acquired certain scars in the first place—and it’s not like there’s anyone around him seeing him without a shirt on or anything of the sort. It helps with keeping his life private.

But this, this is new.

And by this, it means a knife wound right in his side, one that’s much too deep to rely on the healing abilities of his own body that makes every single step and every single flex of his body feel like someone is driving a metal fist right into his gut. A knife wound in the side, a slice along his cheek.

“Fucking shit,” He grunts, staggering out of the alleyway, gripping his side that’s warm and wet with blood—his blood and maybe some of the other guy’s too—but it doesn’t matter because there is pain and there is pain everywhere and he can practically taste it in his mouth and it’s like bile in the pit of his stomach. A part of him wants to roll onto the dirty sidewalk of the city, let the breeze take him away, but he can’t. He has something to return to, he has someone who’s waiting for him.

After a few moments of limping, he leans against a wall and pulls his hand away from the wound, only to be greeted with that burning torment of having a wound that deep so exposed. Immediately, he brings his wrist up and tugs at the fabric, exposing a watch.

12:03AM.

“Fuck,” He curses again, leaning against the wall, gritting his teeth, bringing a hand to his wound that now showed no signs of slowed bleeding. It was serious. He needed to go to a doctor.

He stills in his movement. No. He couldn’t do that.

He can’t even begin to lay out all the risks that come with going to the hospital. Doctors, as professional and careful and effortless they may seemed, asked question. Doctors required personal information. Jungkook didn’t trust doctors. He couldn’t.

He always thought that taking up the role of that friendly neighborhood Spiderman would keep people out of danger. And while it has, he’s put his own life at risk, threatened to bleed to death on the very ground he stood on.

He couldn’t go back home—his parents would have a fit and he wouldn’t survive the drive home.

He couldn’t ask his roommate—the boy would likely sell him out to Kim Namjoon and the whole school would likely find out. He couldn’t text his group from that one science project that one semester.

The boy furrows his eyebrows, but then it stops. His eyes widen.

He did have someone he could ask. He did have someone he could trust—someone he trusted more than was probably appropriate. But trust he did, and that was the best option he had so far. He had no choice. This was the only option.

After all, twenty seconds was all he needed to make up his mind, right?

(the past)

The fourth time you see Jungkook is marked by an aisle of novels and books, silence, and seeing him hunched over in the manga section of the school library. The sight makes you smile, as you are momentarily glad that you had dismissed yourself early from the cafeteria with the excuse that you really needed to check out a particular novel for an upcoming English assignment.

You find him so intensely immersed in his story that you almost feel guilty for breaking him out of his trance. But your need to say something to him is the driver of that last minute reflexive action as you take a step towards him. "Hi," You whisper once you're sure you're within earshot of the boy.

He jerks up at the noise so close to him, nearly dropping his book at the shock of your abrupt visit into his consciousness and you stare at him for a moment before he gives you a quick side glance and seems to deem your presence acceptance. "Uh, hey..." He returns, closing the book and reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "What, uh, what are you doing here?"

You hold up your required novel. "I have to read The Great Gatsby for an extra credit assignment."

He nods slowly, cheeks looking as if they've been set aflame and you wonder if this is the longest conversation he's ever had with another person.

You take in a breath, steering yourself for the alternative routes of direction your new conversation starter could lead to. "How are you feeling? After what happened the other day?"

The other day is something that Jungkook already seems to understand, and although he doesn't look entirely too keen on brushing upon that particular topic, he does look relieved that the responsibility of keeping silence comfortable is no longer something he has to worry about. "I'm okay," He says with the shrug of his shoulders, and you study him closely, having already partially expected him to come up with that sort of answer. “T-Thank you for helping me with that. I don’t think I, uh, got to tell you that.”

You smile a little. "Of course. Like I said, it's not fair what people are trying to put you through." You look at your novel for a moment, before casting another look in his direction. "I'm Y/N, by the way."

Your smile is meant to be one of comfort and reassurance, but it seems to only make him more nervous. "Jungkook," He stammers out, looking over at you through his lashes and the sight is so strangely endearing that you can't help but muster a laugh.

"Well, it's nice to officially meet you, Jungkook," You say, unable to help yourself from speaking his name. It sounds nice on your tongue, a rolling effect, a slightly pouting of your lips. "I hope we'll see more of each other soon."

"M-Me too," He returns, casting another look at you whist reaching up to run a hand lightly through the locks of his hair. You're immediately set on noting that this is gesture Jungkook does when he's nervous and you wonder if you'll ever get the complete puzzle set that is Jungkook.

The pair of you bid each other goodbye with one last shy smile, one last shy wave, before you're turning on your heel and down the aisles. You miss the way Jungkook's eyes seem to follow your departing figure as it grows smaller and smaller the further away you move. Just before you reach the end of the aisle, Jungkook looks back down at the text, fixing his attention back down on the drawings of titans and a certain Eren Jaeger flinging his way to safety.

You do not turn the corner immediately upon reaching the end of the aisle. You stall, lingering in your movement for a moment, before risking one last look over your shoulders. You watch Jungkook, watch the way his lips curl up at the corners as the images on the page before him seem to jump out. You wonder what kind of story he's reading, what kind of pictures draw themselves out in his mind, if he's as brilliant as everyone claims him to be, and you wonder why how someone so calm could call in such a storm.

Your high school experience with Jungkook is categorized in this manner: stepping forward and reaching out, shy glances in the hallways when neither of you think the other is paying attention, shy smiles in the hallways as your gaze pierces Jungkook's from across the span of distance usually always placed between the pair of you and he lets his heart race at how completely tangible he feels when under your gaze.

(the present)

Jungkook never imagined that crawling up a wall would turn into such a struggle, since he's always managed to perform the task as easy as breathing or walking. But, then again, he didn't have a knife wound in the side during those previous times. It feels like needles are pulsing underneath his skin with every movement he takes, every inch he's crawling upwards towards your dorm. The window is opened, but it's the fear that you'll close it and close him out of your life that keeps him propelling forward.

Each reach up, each inch upwards evokes a gritting of teeth and a grunt of pain along every fiber of his nerves that makes everything feel like his body has been set on fire. He doesn't know if he'll make it, because the third floor is almost the same painful and longing sensation as scaling a fucking skyscraper and it's not enough. The bonding movement of his hands to the walls don't feel like enough, his strength doesn't feel like enough, and it feels like he's going to die; he's going to die right here and fall to his death and he's never going to do it. He's never going to tell you how he feels about you, he's never going to kiss your cheek, or use his twenty seconds of insane courage.

Somehow, someway, through the force of his sheer willpower, he crawls in through the opened window and practically falls to the ground.

"You're late!" There it is, that beautiful voice, something that seems to momentarily blind him from the pain and the fact that he's going to be bleeding all over your carpet very soon. "I thought you said you were bringing over Star Wars tonight for our exchange. I was really looking forward to telling you about this really awful thing my History professor said to one of the students today..."

He coughs instead, the weight of the pain making his head spin and holy shit, he's never felt anything like this before. He might pass out if he's not careful, if he lets the pain cloud his vision and his judgment.

"S-Spiderman?" You inquire, voice considerably softer and filled to the brim with concern as he feels a presence kneeling down beside him, a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright—!" You cut yourself off as soon as Jungkook rolls over to expose all the cuts that decorate his suit. "Oh my god," You whisper.

Jungkook peels open an eye, taking in your panicked expression, gaze wide with worry, and he tries to speak up. "It's... only a scratch," He manages.

You scoff, unable to believe he's trying to mask his pain with layers of humorless amusement. "Doesn't look like a scratch," You protest. "Oh my god. Can, uh, can you sit up for me?" You move closer to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and allowing him to lean on you as you do your best to pull him up into a sitting position. "How bad are the wounds?"

"I think it'll need stitches," He grumbles. "S-Sorry, I didn't mean to drop by like this..."

"Don't apologize," You reassure. "You're lucky, I just finished a first aid class on the campus. Except, I don't know how well I'll be with a needle..."

"It's okay," He cuts in, breathing shallow. "I trust you."

There is a silence that hangs in the air, one that you are quick to break with a noise of understanding that sounds from the back of your throat. "Okay, I'm going to take you to my bed now, so I'm gonna need you to stand up..."

A nod of understanding, another grunt as Jungkook grits his teeth, bites his lip, does anything to keep himself quiet and not worry you even more than he already has. He finds himself leaning heavily on you, the pain making his head spin as he grips onto you with a little more force than necessary. You do not seem to mind, letting him hold you like this as he rests himself down on your mattress.

You disappear for a moment, reappearing from your closet with a first aid kit. Your eyes narrow, taking in the torn fabric of his uniform. You bite your lip suddenly, as if struck by an idea that makes you nervous. "S-Sorry Spiderman. I hate to say this to you but, um, the suit as got to go. I won't be able to reach your wounds otherwise..."

"N-No, it's okay," Jungkook manages, the reality of the situation sinking in at about the same time the words leave his mouth. He really did not think this through, did not think about how those twenty seconds of insane courage he had saving up on would strike him when he least expected it. He should have known that of course he would have to reveal his identity to you someday; just not under these unusual circumstances and not when he's grappling with the pain that feels like needles in his temple now. "I understand."

"I can look away if you want," You offer kindly, but Jungkook just grits his teeth again, shakes his head.

"It’s fine,” Jungkook cuts in. “D-Do you mind helping me with the mask though?”

You swallow, probably knowing the direction this was taking much like him. “Of course.” You slowly place the first aid kit onto the desk next to your bed. You take a step towards him, and he finds himself naturally parting his legs for you to move between them. The close proximity makes both of you very much aware of the natural body warmth both of you seem to be emitting off.

The silence feels tense and suffocating, and Jungkook knows that his time is running out. Although he's not sure he's ready for you to see him for what he is beyond the mask, he remembers your talk about twenty seconds of courage and knows that this is the right thing to do. And he means what he said to you. He trusts you.

"Um," You start hesitantly. "Can I...?" You're gesturing to his mask.

"Y-Yeah," He stammers back, holding his breath as you gently grip the edge of the mask right at the base of his neck. He keeps his gaze locked on you, as you do with him, before you tug off the mask in one swift movement.

He watches you very carefully for your reaction, honestly expecting a look of betrayal for the fact that Jeon Jungkook has been Spiderman this entire time, or maybe even something of hurt, but he doesn't get that look of anger flashing behind eyes or anything else of the sort. He sees something flickering in your eyes, recognition and something else: something deeper and fonder, before that concern comes back with the full force of a train. "Jungkook?" You whisper, his name on your lips like his favorite melody. You haven't stepped away from him, haven't tried to build that wall, instead taking that second of silence to scan his face. Your eyes roam across every inch, from his nose to the cuts along his cheek, to his lips, to his eyes.

He tries for a weak smile. "H-Hi Y/N," He whispers back. His hands twitch, desperately longing to place them on your waist, if only to generate some sort of reaction to the big reveal. But it's at that moment that the pain at his side returns as he hisses between his teeth.

This is enough to startle you out of your previous resolve as you jump slightly and look down. "Do you think you can take the suit off for me?" You inquire quietly. "I-I know it might be difficult I just, I don't want to hurt you anywhere..."

The fact that there is no drastic change in your attention or attitude, even with knowing the truth of his identity, helps Jungkook relax slightly under your care. He manages a nod, and gets to work attempting to peel the suit off his upper body. It's hell trying to get his arms out, and even harder trying to tug the material down his body, but he tries to remain careful as he shifts and rolls his body until the suit is bunched at his waist.

You turn your attention back to him, and he watches the way your eyes trace down, outlining the muscles along his figure, from his arms to his collarbone, down to his chest and finally to the increasingly obvious wound at his side. You start forward, instructing Jungkook to lay on his side as you ready the materials out on your desk. “Have you ever gotten a wound stitched?” You inquire.

He shakes his head. “Just do it,” He manages, gaze roaming across the room and realizing that he should probably try to focus his attention on something. Eventually, he settles on your face. He takes in the furrowed eyebrows and the eyes that study his wound. He grits his teeth, trying to remind himself that he is here and he is alive and he trusts you and your intentions on not hurting him too much, even after you start. There are little pinches of pain, some parts worst than others, but the sight of you here, not running away, is enough to keep Jungkook’s nerves and anxiety on the low. “Are you surprised?” He finds himself asking after a few beats of long silence that take on neither a comfortable or an uncomfortable sensation.

You’re quiet for a moment, clearly trying to decide how to go about his question. “I probably shouldn’t have been,” You finally settle on disclosing. “In hindsight, it should have been obvious. Only you would do something so selfless for the sake of other people.”

He stills at that, turning his attention up to the ceiling of your room, so caught up in your words that he doesn’t notice that you’ve finished healing up his wound until you’re wrapping it up.

“Okay, your side is done,” You say, placing the needle in the alcohol to clean it off. “Can you sit up for me? I want to take care of the cut on your cheek.”

Jungkook does what he is asked, gingerly pushing himself up to resume his position of sitting up on the edge of your mattress. Legs open, you step between them. His gaze continues to follow you as you bring a cloth to his face to start gently dabbing at the cut. It stings, but he keeps his mouth shut, and you can probably see the pain flaring up in his eyes like fireworks. He watches you the whole time, eyes big and adoring and careful all at once, that it’s almost necessary that he has to say the next words. “I’m sorry,” He whispers.

You pause. “For what?”

It’s almost amusing how quiet the pair of you are. It’s the weekend, the halls are probably deserted and your roommate had already given you the heads up that she would be spending all of her time in her boyfriend’s apartment so it’s not like anyone would come bursting in or threatening to break the air that has settled between the pair of you. But it’s like this moment is private, intimate, as Jungkook reveals a part of his life he’s kept hidden in the shadows for two and a half years and you, perhaps his biggest secret of all, telling him that it’s okay.

“For not telling you earlier,” He answers. You shift your gaze from the cut on his cheek to his eyes and the pair of you are so close that he’s fairly confident that you can hear his heartbeat. “I wanted to, it’s just…”

“I know,” You cut in gently and he breathes out, because that air of understanding that had developed in high school has only remained the longer the pair of you look at each other. He wonders if you can read his eyes just as he can, he wonders if you can see the overwhelming amount of affection that curls at his heart, the way he can’t stop flickering his gaze down to your lips, the way he’s practically shaking at the close proximity. “That question about the totem from the other day,” You bring up after a moment, lifting your hand up to cup his cheek, thumb lightly dusting over his skin in a gesture that seems almost mindless but Jungkook doesn’t care. “Who were you talking about?”

But she’s—wow. She’s amazing. She’s been through a lot with me and I just, I just wished she knew how much she meant to me. I would do anything for her. The words that Jungkook had spoken about aforementioned totem come barreling back to him. “I thought it was obvious,” He says, light humor and he averts his gaze. “I was talking about you.”

He turns his attention back to you, heart ramming in his throat, laying everything down on the line. He watches your unreadable expression carefully, before you flit your gaze and you’re staring right back at him. He sees the memories that unfold behind your eyes like flashes of a movie, from the very first time you saw him in the hallway, then the library, and every little moment afterwards that made him feel cared for and watched over.

Without a warning, your grip on his face tightens just the slightest to pull him upwards as you lean forward to deliver a chaste kiss against his mouth. Actually, it should hardly constitute for a kiss. It’s just a brushing of the lips, but it’s enough to send a shiver of electricity through Jungkook’s whole body. It’s like he’s being brought back to life, all the reflexive power returning back to his limbs. Just before you could pull back, he reaches up to grip your waist, pushing you against him so he could crush his lips back to yours. Your lips are just as soft and warm as he’s always pictured it to be, and the sensation of that on top of you lightly tracing patterns along his jawline makes him moan.

You pull away after a moment to catch your breath, but Jungkook keeps your body pressed to yours, hands tight on your waist, overtaken by the desire to plant kisses along your neck. “Jungkook,” You whisper breathlessly, trailing off, tilting your head to the side and getting lost in the sensation of his lips tracing across your skin. “Y-You’re hurt, maybe we shouldn’t—!” You start, already getting an idea for the direction this was heading, if the burning fire starting in the pit of your stomach or the hardness pressing against your stomach is an indication to go by.

“I don’t care,” Jungkook interrupts, hands traveling up to cup your face. “I’ve waited so long for this.” He brings you forward to kiss him again, and you melt underneath his touch, the tenderness you’ve always felt for him coming back to hit you with the full force of a bullet train. You can taste the sweetness on his lips, the softness and the love he holds for you in his touches, which are soft in contradiction to the frantic desperation of his lips.

Although you’re still hesitant about his injuries, Jungkook gives you little choice to dwell on the manner because soon, he’s scooting higher up onto your bed and bringing his hands back down to your waist to attempt to bring you up too. As soon as he settles back down, head on your pillow and body lying completely flat on the bed, does he pull you forward in to straddle his waist. You lean forward, planting both hands on either side of his head to ensure not putting all your weight onto his wounds before kissing him again. He kisses back urgently, angling his head, using a hand to curl around the back of your neck. You emit soft noises from the back of your throat as he continues dragging out your moans.

You’re close, but you’re suddenly not close enough, and he can’t seem to feel enough of you. Your warmth floats from your body, curling around him and blinding his senses to everything but you. He whimpers, using the hand still at your waist to push you against his body and you melt, you fold into his touches and his physical commands—!

Your knee accidentally nudges the wound at his side; a soft tap that feels intensified by a sharp spike of pain. There’s a gasp as Jungkook pulls away, the waves of pain momentarily electrifying a part of his brain that distracts him from the current subject at hand.

You pull away at once. “Are you okay?” You inquire immediately. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, did I hurt you—?”

It feels as if Jungkook is getting sagged back to reality and the question generates a violent shake of his head. “No, no,” He whines, opening his eyes when you cup his cheek with one of his hands, shaking his head again at the concern that floods his features. “I’m okay, just keep kissing me, please.”

He cranes his neck back up to kiss you again, swallowing your protests until you’re too caught up to continue speaking. You yield to him once more, and Jungkook desperately tugging up your sleeping shirt to feel along the hot skin of your waist. It feels like his mind is trying to roll through honey, still quite unable to believe that you’re here, on his lap, kissing him back. He chokes on a moan when you start rolling your hips against his, the additional friction making the blood rush straight down between his legs.

“Y/N,” He stammers, a panting mess as you pull away and immediately start dusting kisses along his jawline, down his neck, below his ear. He’s already a mess, he’s already too sensitive for this onslaught of emotions to his system. Both his hands have now found their way to your waist, holding onto you much too tightly, if only to keep him grounded when it feels like all he wants to do is spin out of control. “I haven’t… I’ve never done this before…” He finds himself confessing in a breath, letting it float in the around the pair of you.

He feels you smile against his neck. “It’s okay.” You shift slightly. “Just relax Jungkook,” You whisper against the shell of his ear, sending vibrations up his spine. “Let me take care of you.”

Suddenly, you push yourself up into a sitting position and tug off your night shirt. Jungkook’s eyes widen, jaw slacking when he realizes that you aren’t wearing a bra underneath. “Holy shit…” He whispers, drawing patterns along your skin as his gaze continues to stare unblinkingly at your exposed upper figure, as if he’s afraid that this is a dream, as if he’s afraid this would all fade away if he didn’t appreciate every second of this moment the way he should have. “You’re so beautiful—mm.” His voice fade away to a moan as you slowly start to rock your hips against his once more, applying pressure over his erection. Even with the cloth of his suit and boxers, it’s like he can feel everything and he whimpers. He cranes his head back, baring his neck towards you, hands curling tighter around your waist. Relying purely on instinct, he finds himself meeting your grinding movements in a way that leaves you breathless.

"You're not so bad yourself," You manage fervently, leaning forward to press your palms against his shoulders in order to steady yourself. The foundation of having something sturdy underneath your touch allows you to press harder, teasing your core over his length.

Jungkook lifts his head up, eyebrows furrowed, cheeks flushed, eyes glazed over, gaze narrowing at the movement of your hips against his. The sight of seeing him so wrecked because you is enough to make the desire pulse through you as you speed up the pace of your rolls.

Sucking in a breath between gritted teeth, Jungkook's head falls back against the pillows. "Y/N," He whines, high pitched and filled with so much need that it makes your head spin. "Y/N, I... I need..."

"What do you need, Jungkook?" You coax, trying to keep your mind together enough to ask him a question. "Tell me what you need."

The flush that dusts his cheeks merely deepens at the gentle request to spell out what exactly he wanted you to do to him. He's never been too eloquent with words, so he stammers. It doesn't help that you continue rolling your hips against his clothed cock, the additional fabric adding to the friction that only seems to dip his mind further into ecstasy. He opens his mouth, closes it again, swallows thickly when you lean down to kiss his cheek, his upper lip, the gesture surprisingly chaste for the hell you're putting him through down below.

You giggle lightly, smiling against his cheek, taking pride and amusement at your ability to render him completely speechless. "Do you want me to take the suit off?"

He nods quickly, thankful that you could not only detect his clear struggle, but also filling in his voice with your own. "Y-Yeah."

You pull back, flashing another reassuring smile as you move down his body just enough, tugging at the suit that has collected at his waist and pulling it down his legs. You only make it down to his ankles before he's pulling you back and using his own feet to rid of the rest of his suit and boxers. He kisses you harder, the excitement and the nervousness and the anticipation of what would follow making his hands shake, as they settle on the waistband of your sleeping shorts. He attempts to tug down once, twice, but he can't seem to get the direction right and you're laughing against his mouth.

"Don't laugh," He whines, tugging on your bottom attire once more time. "Take this off, Y/N."

"You're so assertive Jeon," You tease lightly, but you pull back enough for him to see your own glazed expression. Keeping your eyes on him, you tug down the last remaining articles of clothing separating the pair of you. The shifting in the bed signals the kicking up of your legs to rid of the shorts and panties entirely. Both of you refuse to break eye contact the entire time until finally, you break it to look down to take in the sight of his length, hard and needy with the tip spilling over with precum and the sight is so mouthwatering that a part of you longs to just slide down Jungkook's body to score a taste, to see if perhaps he tastes as sweet as his tongue does.

But the sound of his voice breaks you out of your previous resolve, his hands moving up and down your side to get your attention. "Should we, uh," He starts, clearly embarrassed and nervous and hesitant at the sight of being exposed to one another. "Do we, well, do you have a... um..."

Your face breaks out into another fond smile. You lean down to kiss reassurance onto his lips. "I'm on the pill," You report. "Are you sure about this Jungkook?"

He watches you carefully for a long second, that previous lust and haze in his eyes dissipating for just a moment and being replaced with something more steady, something more confident, something more loving. "I've never been more sure about anything in my life."

Your heart stutters in your chest for just a moment at his trust, at his hope, in you, and in what the pair of you could become. You sit up, lifting yourself up by the knees and gently taking him to rub him over your slit. Jungkook reacts immediately to this by sucking in a breath, and you hardly give him time to think or process or overcome the sensation before you're lining the tip to your entrance and sinking onto him. The stretch is overwhelming that you throw your head back into a whimper, eyebrows furrowing, as Jungkook is emitting something drawn between a desperate whine and a sigh of finally getting to feel you around him.

"Y/N," He chokes out, hands settling back at your waist as soon as you've gone hilt deep, fingers digging into the skin with more force than before, leaving you little doubt that there would be bruising within the next few days. But you don't care, and he doesn't care. Your hands find refuge on his shoulders once more, gripping tightly, finding foundational comfort in the touch, as you use that base to help you rise up his length slowly before sliding down his cock. "O-Oh fuck," Jungkook moans, arching his back at the sensation, just as you're whimpering out his name. "Oh fuck Y/N, do that again. Do that again please."

You're too caught up to reply, so you merely settle with repeating the movement until you've developed a pace that has the both of you whining and groaning in timing to the rhythm. Once Jungkook starts to gain a sense of the tempo of your hips, he acquires half a mind to start returning the thrusts.

"Mm, Jungkook," You whine, driving yourself faster down his length. "Just like that, ah!" You crane your neck up slightly in response to the overwhelming pleasure that floods your system right when Jungkook hits the spot that makes you sees stars. Feeling your release just right there, you bring one hand up to rub at your clit, the sensation making you dub over and Jungkook watches the sight of you adding additional pleasure to yourself with deep interest.

"Y/N," He groans out, trying to focus on helping you reach your end first before he could blow his load right then and there. It vaguely surprises him with just how long he's been able to last up until this point, but he's not going to survive much longer, as he feels himself beginning to get dragged towards the edge at an alarmingly quicker pace. "L-Let me."

You open an eye to peer down in time to see him brushing away your fingers from your clit, immediately replacing them with his thumb. As soon as he touches the bundle of nerves, you tense up, your lips parting slightly as the ecstasy you feel goes beyond the vocal capability. "Yes Jungkook," You whine. "Right there, right there, right there, oh god, I'm gonna—!" Your eyes shut tightly together as your lips part in a silent scream as the white hot pleasure courses through your system and light a fire to every single one of your nerves.Your hips slow down. Your legs tremble on either side of him before the high of your release fades away and is gradually replaced with overstimulation. With a high pitched whimper of protest of Jungkook's fingers still on your clit, he pulls his fingers away. He, however, does not stop pumping in and out of you. His thrusts increase in force, since he no longer has you to meet him halfway.

Overwhelmed with the large amount of pleasure washing over your body like a wash, you fall against the boy's chest, trembling from the new pace that he has set. Feeling you shake against him, Jungkook wraps his arms around your frame to keep you in place and, quickly forgetting the stinging in his side from the adrenaline surging through his body, starts rutting up into you. Still spent and recovering from your earlier release, you are left with no choice but to grip the blankets next to you to try and stop the room from spinning, gasping and whimpering Jungkook's name until he's reaching his own end. He groans loudly, his first release hitting him like a train as he drops a broken version of your name into the void. He rides out his high, slowing down the rhythm of his hips until he's stopping entirely.

The room is filled with the sounds of pants and heavy breathing, the frantic heartbeat against each of your chests gradually starting to slow down into something more normal as the pair of you bask in one another's presence.

Finally, Jungkook pulls himself out of you and you whine momentarily at the loss before you lift yourself from Jungkook's chest to roll onto his side. Your eyes roam his face, taking in the sweaty complexion and the flushed cheeks, the half-lidded way he's watching you, and you reach out to brush some of the hair out of his face.

"That was so..." Jungkook speaks after a moment, staring right back at you. "Wow."

You laugh. "Wow indeed."

"Does this mean..." He speaks suddenly, lowering his head slightly to show his bashfulness on the subject. "Does this mean that you... that we...?"

"Does this mean that I like you?" You fill in softly, soft laughter filling the room. "Well, I don't ask anyone if I could take off their suit."

Jungkook bites his lip, reaching over to take some of your hair and tuck it behind your ear. "I really, really care about you Y/N," He manages thickly. "And I don't think... I wouldn't want... It's just that I..."

You press a finger to his lips. "Did you mean it?" You whisper.

"Mean what?"

"That I was your totem."

He doesn't hesitate to answer. "Yeah." He nods. "I meant it all." He pauses for a moment. “Did you mean it?” He returns. “When you said it should have been obvious that I was Spiderman?”

“Well, maybe not obvious, but… it makes sense,” You explain. “You’ve always been selfless and understanding and thoughtful. You always care so much for other people, even if people might not care for you. And you’re really funny, Jungkook. You’ve always been quiet and trying to hide from the world.”

“But you always saw me,” He fills in.

“Of course I did.” You say this like it should have been obvious, and it’s in that statement that he’s sure. Twenty seconds, right?

"I know that me being Spiderman might... make things complicated,” He starts with a cough. “But, uh, do you think I could... if we could go out some time?"

You look at him, smile dusting along your features as if he's just returned from hanging all the stars in the sky just for you. "I thought you'd never ask, Jungkook." You shift slightly to prop your head up slightly. "Was there something you had in mind?" Your eyes widen as soon as you ask the question before you're leaning forward to rest a hand against his chest. "Wait. Can we go swinging around the city?" You inquire, bright smile reaching every corner of your eyes as you crane your neck up to stare at him fondly.

Jungkook's shoulders shake with his laughter as he moves downwards slightly to kiss your forehead. "Anything for you."

#jungkook x reader #jungkook scenario #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts scenario #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook fluff #repost: workofteaguk #traci writes

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elizabeth-234 · 5 years

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Whumptober 2019

Day Four: Human Shield

Hi Friends! Hope everyone is doing well! Here is day four of Whumptober. I'm still feeling sick so forgive me for any mistakes below. Thank you for sticking with it.

Day Three: Delirium

Summary: Stephen Strange knows they all have their parts to play in the battle on Titan, but is Peter Parker willing to play his?

In all the futures Doctor Strange experienced during his meditation this one was the worst.

He feared the outcomes and their varying results but this was it. This was the one. He had seen plenty of others. Witnessed the cries and heard the tears from the people of the universe. Stephen Strange burdened himself with the knowledge of what it would be like to lose to Thanos. He saw how the world would change under the Titan’s vision of balance and watched as the earth withered away under the bonds of its master.

Stephen lived through universes that weren’t whole either, in destruction or in peace. They were half formed. Ones where people survived but they didn’t live. Important figures never lived or died to soon and their presence pulled a dent in history. Their deeds wiped away from consciousness.

His partiality to certain peoples could never be used in the equation to finding the right path but even still, he cried as he saw the people he loved vanish millions of times over.

As he hovered on the barren planet Stephen knew it was his responsibility to find the plan to get the universe back. Their universe. It would be impossible to ignore the effects of this battle on humanity but he had to find the one where its far-reaching hands ravaged the least.

His eyes burst opened and he cried out as he fell onto the rock below him. He knew what they had to do.

Tony Stark grabbed his arm, steadying him and he stared into the man’s warm eyes keeping a wince from his face. The man was strong but would he be strong enough to get through this? To play his part? Time enough would answer, he thought.

His eyes wandered around landing on their motley crew. He relayed to them what he saw. Parts of what he saw. There were no words to describe the depth, the sheer magnitude of what Thanos was attempting to create, it was grotesque but in a disturbed way a masterpiece in the end. In layman’s terms he told them enough information to get their attention. It was enough to inform them what needed to be done without actually telling them what would happen.

If there was a feeling left in Stephen after his meditation drained him it wasn’t remorse. He knew better than anyone what the consequences of their actions here were and with a steeled expression he told them what they were required to know and nothing else.

“14,000,605.” He used his doctor voice paired with a flippant tone in order to keep the trembling out of it. This was important. Every single one of them had to think this was the only way. That was the only way it would work.

Then Stark asked the question he was dreading: “How many do we win?”

There was no one definition of winning. A more important question would be what outcome was worth the cost? That would reveal too much though. His determination wavered for a moment. This was too large for him, one man, even if he was Master of the Mystic Arts. The immeasurable difficulty of their task sat in his chest, squeezing the very breath out of him until his eyes settled on the young boy in front of him. Wide brown eyes gazed at him filled with such trust that Stephen began to understand why Stark was so protective of the boy.

The boy moved forward and placed a hand on Stark’s shoulder. The man looked at him with such determination that Stephen was impressed and hoped it would remain. Stephen looked back over to the boy and told them there was only one outcome where they would win. The boy’s eyes hardened but he didn’t think that he really understood what that meant. How small their chances were.

Stark looked back and reached his own hand over to rest on the boy’s shoulder. The normally aloof expression he wore softened when he gazed at the boy and Stephen got the strange notion that maybe Peter did understand. Maybe he knew deep down the sacrifices they all were going to make.

Their plan was set and so was his own. He would be the first to brace Thanos’s attention but not the last.

Thanos entered his old home and the play began. With constructed nonchalance Stephen drew him in and like a child to candy Thanos couldn’t resist the urge to lecture before striking.

The presence of the others, hiding, biding their time crept into his consciousness and he wondered if Thanos could feel it as well. His powers were great and Stephen wouldn’t have been surprised if they were really the fool in this play.

A glow of red Thanos controlled rewrote a past reality before him. Giant spectacles and lush gardens grew before his eyes and for a moment Stephen let himself feel pity for the creature in front of him. His home now beautiful and whole contrasted with the empty reality that was lying behind the façade. His home was gone. Thanos knew keenly what it was like to be alone and he was willing to bear the burden so that others in the universe didn’t have to face his fate. What he didn’t understand was that his greater good was a worse kind of fate than he faced.

The scenery vanished along with the Thanos’s past. What he proposed was too great. It was too much for the universe to handle but there was a glint in his eyes and Stephen began to understand why he was called the Mad Titan. His will to save the universe burned through Stephen as he gazed into his eyes.

That was the scariest aspect of Thanos. He wasn’t evil. He was attempting to do something horrible for the greater good so that people would be better off. So that they would live better lives. Stephen knew that his vision wouldn’t always unravel how he wanted. He knew that the universe would not be better for it.

“The hardest choices require the strongest wills.”

Stephen felt his heart clench. Did he know? The Titan’s words reflected his inner struggle with their plan. With his plan. He remembered the naïve strength in the boy’s eyes and reinforced his own will. He had to keep strong. He had to.

“I think you’ll find our will equal to yours.”

And in that way they were equals. Stephen would do what was necessary. They all would. He saw it in the set of Star Lord’s chin, in the innocent smile of Mantis, and in the gaze that passed between Stark and his ward.

Stephen brought his hands up to ready position and his will was sealed.

Chaos ruled. Dust rose and screams echoed onto the decrepit buildings from all parties. They gave it their all and more. They funneled their humanity and the humanity of billions into their fight, leaving nothing left.

He observed everyone as best he could while fighting, making sure they were all playing their part. It was valiant to see the bond between Stark and his ward take shape in the fight. As he glanced at them Stephen almost smiled at how protective they were of each other. Peter was in the grips of Thanos and Stark came flying in with jets knocking their enemy out of the way. Similarly Peter distracted Thanos when Stark was under attack. It was strange to see them moving so in sync, almost graceful.

They were close. Peter almost had the glove off. It was so close. But Stephen got too involved with their attempts he forgot that this was supposed to happen. The boy wasn’t supposed to get the glove off.

As he watched the glove slip back on and saw Peter sail across the sky with Mantis in his arms Stephen remembered the look on the kid’s face when his mentor turned back to Stephen earlier. The boy stared at the back of his mentor’s head like he was trying to memorize it. If Stephen was in awe of his determination before it was nothing compared to that look. He could literally feel the love radiating through the bond between them. In that moment Stephen believed he was ready. That there was nothing that would stop Peter from protecting those he loved and it was almost his time to take center stage.

They were doing poorly. At least that’s what it looked like. His body was more and more battered and Stephen could tell his teammates were moving slower. Doubt began to creep into his mind and he had to remind himself that this was according to plan.

It didn’t matter that he knew the outcome already; Stephen kept fighting. He used every trick he knew but still ended up in their enemy’s grasp. Pain bloomed in his stomach as something pierced him and he was distracted. His head landed against the cement and his vision wavered as an ache spread through his head. For the first time that day Stephen let himself rest. He panted in shallow bursts against the rock and held his hand to his stomach. The battle was obscured from his view but he knew.

His eyes caught the glimmers of purple light reflecting off the dismantled spaceship. His stomach ached as his muscles tried to move him and a grimace crossed his face as he pushed his hands under himself in order to see better. So he could witness the consequences of his choice.

Stark was front and center becoming the part of leading man extraordinarily well. He was also losing. The sound of skin hitting metal echoed around him and despite everything Stephen tried to move forward, tried to save his teammate. His legs collapsed under him and he cursed their rebellion.

His legs were motionless and Stephen moved his eyes upward to watch. It was almost beautiful the way Stark’s armor moved. There was a wave like motion in the way it receded in one spot just to drift somewhere else when needed. His chest pounded as he watched the armor on Stark’s leg move upward leaving more skin unprotected.

Thanos bashed his helmet away with ease.

He wanted to cry out and warn Stark that what he was doing wouldn’t work but a power came over him. Like the immobility of his legs Stephen was left voiceless. He wasn’t sure if it was the powers to be or his will manifesting from earlier but whatever it was left frustrated tears in his eyes as he watched the suit and man get pummeled to ashes.

Stephen was so focused on Stark that he momentarily forgot what was about to happen. He was ingrained in the present and began to believe that Stark could do it. That man could win against the Titan. His breath left his chest when he watched in slow motions as Stark’s arm rose backward. Like before his suit moved and formed into a blade hidden before his body. He cheered for Stark and forgot to look behind him, forgot to keep track of the boy who was so very important to his plan.

Stark’s arm thrusted forward but it was easily grasped and relieved of its sharp burden. Out of the corner of his eyes Stephen saw a streak of red swing past him. The metallic suit glinted in the sun looking so much like his mentors. It was then that Stephen remembered.

His eyes swiveled between each spectacle. Now equipped with the blade Thanos wound his arm back and forward. The red blur moved into motion, knocking Stark out of the way.

Stephen expected chaos to ascend on their battlefield but instead silence permeated the course. Thanos’s eyes widened as he saw the blade protruding from the small body now standing in front of him. The boy’s hands delicately cradled the entry site, blood seeping onto them and down his suit.

Stark looked up from where he lay on the ground. His expression wasn’t angry or sad. His eyes tweaked in puzzlement trying to understand what happened, why he was on the ground instead of in front of Thanos.

Peter fell forward and Thanos reached out to stop him from falling. The large purple hands were gentle as they took Peter’s shoulders into their grip. His weight continued to fall and Thanos guided him to lie on down.

Stark watched with an unchanged expression and Stephen cursed his knowledge. He tried to get up again. His legs spasmed under his efforts but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t do anything.

Stark looked from Thanos, who was staring at the blade, to Peter’s form. Thanos pulled off Peter’s mask. As soon as it was gone the spell of puzzlement Stark was under disappeared. Peter coughed and Stark crawled forward. His motions jerky, kicking up dust in his wake, and his mouth panted in order to get to Peter.

Thanos knelt next to Peter staring at the youthful face that was revealed. Stephen thought it was ironic how this boy’s expression could cause such a reaction in such powerful people. How his sacrifice was the key to fortifying his will and breaking the Titan’s.

Stark came upon the body and his hands hovered over the wound, his eyes tracing the liquid escaping its confines. His eyes moved toward the boy’s face and crumpled at the sight. Peter’s eyes stared at the man he admired.

“Mr… Mr. Stark. Is that you?”

“It’s me Peter.”

“Tell May for me. Tell her I love her.”

Stephen couldn’t see Tony’s face but his voice conveyed all the emotion not in his view.

“Don’t Kid. You don’t get a goodbye speech just yet.”

The boy wasn’t listening. With effort he brought his hand up to clasp Stark’s.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark. For everything.”

Stephen could see the way Stark’s hands, the one bare, smoothed over Peter’s forehead. He wiped the tears the boy shed off his face and whispered something to the boy that Stephen couldn’t hear now and wasn’t privy to in his vision. Stark bowed his head so it was touching the boys.

It was silent.

With a sped like Stephen had never seen before Peter’s suit contracted over his body and transferred to Stark’s suit, creating an amalgamation of the two. Stark jumped across Peter and encased Thanos’s throat with his hands squeezing until his knuckles were white. Thanos tried to beat him off but Stark held strong against the blows.

Stephen breathed in sharply and found he could finally move. His magic wound through the air and latched onto the purple hands. The suit moved around Stark’s body and onto Thanos’s mouth where it created another cuff. He moved to grip the gauntlet. His eyes were hard as he tried to remove it. Then a spiteful sparkle entered them. Again Stark’s arm came back and another blade formed, this time he raised it high and brought it down severing the arm from body.

Thanos let out an ugly cry against the cuff and fell forward. Blasters exploded out of the suit and Stephen tightened his magic. The world was orange lights and muffled screams until the dust settled.

Thanos’s form was black and prone. His face buried against the ground. Stephen looked away from the body not releasing his magic yet.

The gauntlet was in Stark’s hands. His eyes gazed at the gold reverently; taking in the stones that had cost them so much before traveling to the small body he knelt by earlier.

“Don’t.” He warned even though it was useless.

Stark held the weapon in his hands, weighing it and what he was about to do, before sliding the glove onto his hand. A wave of power tore through the field and a rainbow radiated through Stark’s profile. His back bent unnaturally and a low groan emanated from him. He turned away from Stephen and moved to the boy.

“Please…” He heard the whisper from where he stood. A warm orange glow surrounded Peter.

Stephen watched as the blade made from Stark’s own suit crumbled into the atmosphere leaving nothing projecting from the body. Peter remained motionless.

He watched as Stark bent forward, his shoulders shaking.

He watched as Stark moved again and his mangled arm came into view.

He watched and waited to see what he already witnessed.

Peter convulsed forward with a cough and Stark’s shoulders shook harder. His hands came up to cup the boys face. Stephen looked away not wanting to intrude on their reunion for a second time. He heard the others start to move and find each other.

He sat down heavily and observed mentor and ward embrace. He didn’t bother to staunch the bleeding in his stomach or stop the magic from leaking out of the wound.

It was too late for that now. He had played his part.

Stephen Strange sat on Titan and smiled at the fact that maybe he had been wrong. Maybe this wasn’t the worst future. He just wouldn’t be there to see it.

As always thank you all!

Taglist (send an ask if you want to be added): @verdonafrost

Day Five: Gunpoint

#whumptober 2019 #whumptober #no. 4 #human shield #stephen strange #doctor strange pov #peter parker #tony stark #avengers #marvel fanfiction #mcu #infinity war #final battle rewrite #spiderman #iron man #ao3 #my writing #eliza writes

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maddie-grove · 6 years

Text

The Stark Romance Saga--Book #4: The Maiden of the Riverlands

Previous Installments: Loved I Not Honor More (Book #1, Robb Stark/Jeyne Westerling), The Iron Scoundrel (Book #2, Theon Greyjoy/Asha “Not His Sister in This Universe” Harlaw), Kissing the Kingslayer (Book #2.5, Catelyn Stark/Jaime Lannister), A Fire in Winter (Book #3, Jon Snow/Ygritte), and The Winter Bride (Book #3.5, Samwell Tarly/Gilly).

Note: This installment takes place roughly four years after the end of Sam’s book, which takes place about a year after the end of Jon’s book. Westeros is making progress, albeit slow, in its war against the White Walkers, and there has been a rather cool, brief spring and summer in the meantime. Queen Daenerys is on the throne, although she’s reached a Dornish compromise with the North, making it a principality. Dany’s doing a fine job on the whole, although she’s met with some difficulties, and has a reputation as a fair and kind ruler despite the whole dragon thing.

Other Note: I made Lord Londrew Frey up, because I have no idea which Frey would inherit the Twins after the foiled Red Wedding in Robb’s book. My other thought was making it Big Walder Frey; however, I have a soft spot for that little guy. He may be disturbingly casual about cousin-murder, but he has standards!

The Style

Sweet, drama-filled, and slightly off-kilter 1990s Patricia Gaffney or Susan Wiggs.

The Leads

Nymeria of High Heart (Nan for short), 20 years old, a folk heroine of the Riverlands. With her sword-fighting skills and the help of her direwolf, Sharra, she defends the poor, the weak, and the unprotected from unscrupulous outlaws and cruel lords alike. Dwells in a makeshift cottage near High Heart with only Sharra for company, living partly off the land and partly off the gifts of thankful Riverlanders. Has many friends, including the Brotherhood without Banners, but won’t get too close to anyone. Can’t remember anything before she was fourteen and found herself on the back of a wagon to Castle Black, disguised as a boy. It hurts too much to think about that time, so she’s resolved not to wonder about her past. Really, of course, ARYA STARK.

Gendry, 25 years old, a blacksmith at the inn-turned-orphanage at the crossroads and a member of the Brotherhood without Banners. Less angry than his canon counterpart due to improved circumstances, but still grumpy. An orphan from King’s Landing, he was apprenticed to a blacksmith who abruptly packed him off to join the Night’s Watch. Upset by his master’s rejection and embittered by the atrocities he witnessed in the Riverlands, he found a sense of belonging with the Brotherhood and with the kids who frequently mob him at work. Lately, though, he’s beginning to wonder if he should want more from life. Good friends with Nan, who survived the war alongside him and saved his life a couple of times.

The Prologue

Shortly after her escape from Sandor Clegane and return to the Brotherhood, an exhausted fifteen-year-old Nan wanders away from the group and has a full-fledged emotional breakdown on a riverbank over everything she’s been through. She only stops crying when a gigantic direwolf approaches her. Instead of eating her, the beast licks her tears away and demands to be petted. Feeling better than she has in a long time, Nan takes the direwolf back to the camp and informs the wary Brotherhood that this is Sharra, named after a witch queen from a song. That night, she dreams about a family in a castle surrounded by snow.

The Set-Up

The Brotherhood without Banners and the Heddle sisters get together and throw a very merry harvest party at the inn at the crossroads. Gendry only goes because he lives there, but is pleasantly surprised to see Nan dancing with an extremely drunk Thoros of Myr. She’s been making herself scarce lately and, while he won’t admit it in so many words, he’s missed her. As they banter, dance, and drink a bit of cider, he also realizes that he’s attracted to her. He resolves to mash down his feelings--she obviously views him as an overbearing older brother and couldn’t possibly be interested--until she calls all his assumptions into question by saying something like, “Yo, nice ass, Gendry.” Long story short, they end up having awesome sex. The next morning, she bids him a cheerful but glib adieu before running back to High Heart, leaving him to wonder if he irrevocably ruined their friendship.

The two don’t speak again until a week later, when Gendry visits Nan’s cottage with news of an interesting matter: Lord Londrew Frey has been cheating his smallfolk by giving them almost no share of the grain that they harvest. Londrew claims that he’s sending the grain to the Night’s Watch to help the war effort, but there’s evidence that he’s selling it overseas instead. Nan agrees to help, although she’s not sure how to do it; she can steal from the Twins and exchange the loot for food for the smallfolk, but that’s only a short-term solution.

The conversation trails off, and Gendry finally reveals the other reason he came to see her: he wants to talk about That Night and What It Means. He’s halting and awkward. They’ve been friends for a long time, he says, so of course he cares about, um, what happens to her. He knows she never...you know...and what if there’s a child, Nan? He never thought about marrying, but, well... (He doesn’t say that he’s never thought about anything beyond the next task, next meal and next catastrophe until recently, and now he’s not sure how to do it.)

Nan angrily rebuffs him. (She doesn’t say how much she cares about him, how often she thinks about that night, or how badly she longs for a real family. Even if he felt more than friendship and duty, she would lose him eventually, and she can’t stand to lose anyone else.) Stung, Gendry rants about her decision to live all alone in a pile of sticks like a crazy old woods witch. Eventually the rant becomes less “insulting” and more “seriously, are you sleeping at all?” Nan admits that she’s been dreaming more and more about the war and a strange Northern family, one of whom looks like her. In his taciturn way, Gendry expresses sympathy. They watch Sharra play among the weirwood stumps for a while, and then Nan’s face lights up.

“You know,” she says, “someone once thought I looked like a Stark girl.”

The Middle

After an obligatory “wait, WHAT” from Gendry, the two journey to Acorn Hall to get some help from Lady Smallwood, a longtime ally of the Brotherhood. They run into some heartwarming hijinks along the way, mostly brought on by the fact that Nan is beloved by every farmer, prostitute, and orphan in the Riverlands, while Gendry has one of those vibes that make little kids demand that he give them a ride on his shoulders or look at a cool rock they found. Lady Smallwood is pleased to see them and embarrasses Nan by reminiscing about when she was just a wee lass. She grows grave, though, once Nan’s dressed up as a lady in her daughter’s old clothes.

“You do have the Stark look, come to think,” she says. Nan repeats what she now tells everyone, including herself--she comes from King’s Landing and never knew her family--but her dreams are even more vivid that night.

The next day, Nan and Gendry head for the Twins, “disguised” as Arya Stark and her sworn sword. They flirt on the way, despite her determination to keep her distance and his to not renew the sentiments she found so disgusting. Once they arrive at their destination, the Frey household scoffs at Nan’s imperious claims that she is the lost Arya and, by the way, Lord Londrew better stop his peasant-cheating bullshit. Then several older Frey cousins remark that she is the very picture of Lady Lyanna Stark at the Tourney at Harrenhal, causing Lord Londrew turns courteous and welcome her to his home. (Nobody remarks on Nan’s direwolf, as she left Sharra to roam in the woods; she’ll risk her own life, but not her big pup’s.) Nan grandly agrees, even as Gendry grumbles through his teeth that they’re either planning to kill her for being the false Arya or being the real one.

They argue more after she’s shown to her chambers. He reminds her of the famous aborted Red Wedding; she reminds her that they’re both armed to the teeth and smarter than any Frey, plus she thinks they can find proof of Londrew’s dirty dealings to send to Lord Edmure Tully. Their argument “devolves” into some sexy lady/sworn sword roleplay.

Later that night, they’re both shocked when the Freys take Gendry captive (with some difficulty, of course). He has all the markings of a Robert Baratheon bastard, and Londrew thinks he can use him to cause trouble for Queen Daenerys in a Blackfyre Rebellion kind of way. Londrew locks him in a dungeon and Nan in her room. He reveals that he knows who Nan is: an outlaw who comes from nowhere and belongs to no one. He further taunts her with his intention to create false hope for the Starks and Tullys by informing them of “Arya’s” survival, and hopes out loud that they kill Nan out of anger when they learn the “truth.”

Gendry has a dark night of the soul. Spurred by his resentment at being abandoned by his father and used as a pawn by the Freys, he realizes that he isn’t helping himself or anyone else by merely existing in the Riverlands. Whether or not he ends up with Nan or does something with his discovery of his parentage, he has to take charge of his life by going to see Queen Daenerys himself...but first he has to survive this ordeal with the Freys.

Luckily, Nan has already made her escape, thanks to a combination of technical skills and the goodwill of several Freys who are downtrodden or too loyal to Roslin Frey to fuck with her husband’s family’s emotions like that. She springs Gendry from the dungeon; he helps in this endeavor by promising to put in a good word for them with the queen. Reunited, they flee into the night. Gendry tells her that he wants to marry her, whether Daenerys recognizes him as her cousin or not. Nan says she’ll marry him when he comes back; she privately believes he’ll change his mind if his status improves, but almost losing him to the Freys has taught her that refusing to care about him hurts more than letting herself love him. They make love one last time before parting ways, he for King’s Landing and she for Riverrun.

The Conclusion

Nan reaches Riverrun and begs an audience with Lord Edmure Tully, who accepts her request. As a lord who takes his obligations to his vassals seriously, he can appreciate her defense of the smallfolk despite her worrying outlaw status. Once he sees her, though, he’s bowled over by her resemblance to Brandon, Ned, Lyanna, and Benjen (plus the wolf), despite having reservations thanks to Catelyn’s harrowing experience with the false Aryas. Yet his reaction is nothing to Nan’s. Edmure’s Tully look brings back memories of Catelyn, Robb, Sansa, Bran, and Rickon. Then she remembers Ned and Jon, the only ones who looked like her. And everything else comes back when she remembers Jon: Needle, Bran’s accident, the journey to King’s Landing, her terrible final fight with Sansa, her father’s death. Edmure and Roslin take pity on the disheveled young woman sobbing in their hall, and give her a bed and some ale before gently trying to sort everything out.

Meanwhile, Gendry arrives in King’s Landing. He visits Tobho Mott, now an old man, and learns that he was sent away for his own protection at Ned Stark’s command, not outright abandoned. Then he goes to Daenerys’s throne room to wait in line with the general population, When the time comes, he publicly announces who he is and pledges his loyalty, telling her bluntly that he’d rather go ahead and get eaten by her dragons than be endlessly used as a pawn and start another war like the one he lived through.

“Okay, respect,” Daenerys says, enjoying both the anti-oppression message and the drama. She has him taken to a more private chamber and, after find out his whole deal from Varys, meets with him. She reveals that she used to want to Kill All Baratheons, but then she realized that her family’s downfall was more nuanced than she’d been led to believe, plus it didn’t take her long to love her cousins Shireen Baratheon and Mya Stone. She’s happy to find another cousin, having known very little of family, and his loyalty means a great deal to her. Seriously, he can name the region and she’ll find him a castle or at least some unclaimed land. Does he want a title? A last name?

“Um,” says Gendry, utterly overwhelmed. “Is there anything near High Heart?”

At the same time, Nan/Arya has recovered enough from her shock to be merely completely wigged out. She doesn’t know if she can handle being Arya--she can barely handle being Nan--or if her family will even want the wild, haunted outlaw she’s become. And will Gendry want her as Arya Stark? Unsure what to do, she sneaks out of Riverrun, grabs Sharra/her namesake Nymeria, and rides like hell to High Heart.

Several days later, Gendry arrives at Riverrun, which is in an utter uproar. Edmure and Roslin are frantic about having possibly lost the real Arya; Brynden Tully is trying to get everyone to calm down so the fallout won’t be too bad when they find out she’s a fake; Jaime Lannister is lounging decadently around the great hall and grousing about how well the supposed Real Arya hid herself from him; and, most important, Jon Snow and Sansa Stark are there, tense and worried.

“Wait,” says Gendry, “you’re telling me the Freys got something right for once?”

There’s another uproar when everybody realizes that this is the newly acknowledged Baratheon bastard, cousin to the queen, and that he’s been traveling alone with the Lost Arya.

(“You better be prepared to marry her,” threatens Edmure.

“Why?” Jaime asks. “She can do better.”)

Eventually, Jon and Sansa manage to speak to Gendry alone. They tell him how desperately they want Arya back, and how afraid they are that this won’t be her. Nobody’s even told Catelyn about this latest hope, because it will be too hard on her. They describe what Arya was like as a kid. Jon tells him how close they were; he’s missed her every day of his life since he went to the Wall. Sansa talks about how annoyed she used to get with Arya back then, and how stupid it all seems now; she’d give anything to see her sister’s messy hair and muddy face again. They’re both worried that, even if this is the real Arya, she won’t want to come back after so much time. But they would let her go, if that would make her happy.

With a sinking feeling, Gendry knows that the girl from their stories can’t be anyone but Nan. He also knows that a Stark lady is too highborn to marry a bastard, even an acknowledged one with royal connections. Still, he can’t keep the truth from her.

“That sounds like Nan,” he tells them. “Follow me. I’ll talk to her first.”

So they all head up to High Heart, where Nan/Arya has resumed her solitary existence. Sharra/Nymeria bounds out immediately and aggressively licks Jon and Sansa before going off to roughhouse with Ghost. Nan/Arya, though, refuses to come out of her hut; however, she reluctantly lets Gendry come inside. He tells her that she can be Nan or Arya or anyone else--she’ll be great no matter who she is, and he’ll love her. They can live in the woods or at the Inn with the orphans or in the castle the queen promised him. Or, if her family doesn’t mind, in Winterfell. Because they love her, too.

“How can they?” Arya demands. “You know what I’ve done, what I am. I was never what they wanted, and now? I’m an outlaw, and a killer, and I’m no one at all.”

At which point Sansa sweeps majestically into the hut, with Jon at her heels.

“You’re not no one,” she tells Arya. “You’re Arya Stark. My sister. And if I didn’t want you, it was because I didn’t know what it would be like to lose you.”

"And you’re a champion of the Riverlands, from what we hear,” says Jon. “Do you remember the sword I gave you?”

“Needle,” says Arya.

Soon all three siblings are crying and hugging and, when Gendry tries to absent himself, Arya pulls him into the embrace.

“This is Gendry,” she tells her siblings. “He’s coming with us to Winterfell.”

The Epilogue

Arya, Gendry, Jon, and Sansa arrive at Winterfell, Ghost and Nymeria on their heels. Arya wonders aloud if she can find a way to be a lady and still be herself. “Probably,” says Gendry, “but you don’t have to be a lady to be Arya.” The conversation turns to how he’ll adjust to his life as the queen’s acknowledged cousin, including whether he’ll give himself a last name. Arya teases him about becoming “Gendry Stark,” but he says that sounds just fine to him, and she sees his point.

Finally, they get to Winterfell, and almost everyone is there: Robb, Bran, Rickon, Theon, Old Nan, Hodor, Maester Luwin, Princess Jeyne, Ygritte, and a passel of new nieces and nephews. And, of course, Catelyn, who practically falls on her long-lost daughter. They show her the place they’ve set for her at the table all these years, and she sits down with her family.

Subplots

Twenty-two-year-old Sansa begins to feel restless after a few much-needed years of safety and stability with her family. Catelyn and Robb are both overprotective of her after her ordeal in King’s Landing, encouraging her to delay considering marriage for a few more years and getting nervous if she ventures outside the castle walls. She’s secretly fearful of the outside world herself, but she still wants to do something with her life. So she starts up a correspondence with her old friend/flirt Margaery Tyrell, who shares some highly interesting news about King’s Landing

Nineteen-year-old Bran similarly feels stifled by his well-meaning family, who tend to treat him as a child to some degree despite his physical/emotional maturity and the Very Real Psychic Shit he’s dealing with. (He and Sansa joke about it sometimes.) The arrival of Meera and Jojen Reed, two siblings around his age who know what he’s dealing with and are generally cool, make life a little easier to deal with.

After a years-long exile as Queen Daenerys’s ambassador in Pentos, Tyrion Lannister returns to King’s Landing to be Hand of the King. He has a fearsome reputation as a killer, only partially earned, and a WHOLE lot of unresolved trauma. When Petyr Baelish approaches him with a crass offer to go into the brothel business together, Tyrion begins to suspect that something more sinister is afoot. Also, he’s not sure if Sandor Clegane wants to kill him or just really likes glaring at people.

#asoiaf #asoiaf au #romance novels #the stark romance saga #arya stark #gendry

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