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messylustt · 11 months

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𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐭

miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 4.8k words

fic masterlist previous part pt four next part

violence + mentions of blood and injuries (this is quite visual ha); angry + kinda ‘blood lust’ miguel; someone gets electrocuted, reader kinda does (small amount—I’ll be honest I don’t know how getting electrocuted exactly works, so for the purpose of the story ignore if the way it happens isn’t realistic, thank you!) — when you’re left alone in the tech room, many spiders out on missions, something unexpected happens. when miguel finds out his face falls and his claws twitch in anger. after the incident, you find miguel walking down the hall, calling to him he asks you questions, and you offer your help with something.

It was silent. For what felt like too long. Besides the tap of your fingers on the keyboard—which had begun to slow.

Usually you’d hear distant conversations or the sound of web shooting, but instead only silence greeted you. Unease began to make your body turn, your chair spinning with you.

You weren’t sure if you were just being paranoid. You were alone in the office. Which wasn’t anything strange, but it meant that your growing paranoia festered a little stronger.

You edged closer to the door, finally hearing what sounds to be rumbling. Low and too vague for you to decipher. Your hand reaches out to the door handle, but just as your fingers brush the smooth metal, you’re forced back.

Your body flies, coming to a bruising hit on your hip, making you hiss in pain. But you’re quick to get up, rushing to a clear wall, and away from the explosion. You breathe heavy as you slump against it, your ears slightly ringing, while your gaze stays blurry against the random scraps of metal and dust.

You look to the communal intercom, quickly rushing towards it. Someone or something that isn’t supposed to be here is. You have to warn the spider-people who are out on missions.

But where are the others?

Just as you reach the com, the sound of quick scuffling boots can be heard to your left. You snatch up the intercom, slipping under your desk, tucking your feet into the dark just as multiple pairs of unwelcome boots come into view.

Your shrink further into yourself. You couldn’t speak in warning to the spider variants or these guys would hear you. Your eyes narrow on the bottom of their legs. All black, but so far appearing humanised rather then some large monster. An anomaly?—you think to yourself—multiple?

You clutch the intercom mic tighter, your finger grazing the on button. And that’s when they begin to speak.

“Get the tech.” A gruff voice says. “Now! We can’t waste our time!”

You can hear more scuffling of boots as the sound of unplugging, or more so ripping follows.

“Boss, they’ll be back.” One of them said. You try to get a good look at them, but your movements will cause too much attention, so you grind your teeth and listen harder.

“If you pick up that damn monitor we might have a chance to get out quick enough.” What you assume to be the gruff voice of ‘boss’ says.

“Who even made you in charge?” One grumbles out.

“Who’s idea was it to lure those stupid spiders out on some fake mission, that, might I add, required a decent bunch of those freaks?”

“Not all of them, though.” One adds. You try again to peak out. You manage to scale the bodies of three, all in black, with…masks. Damn it. They looked worn out—handmade.

“Well, lucky for us the remainders are all too busy in the lobby. Now hurry up and pack the bags.” Boss agitatedly says.

And as if luck is still on your back-burner, your foot slips, only a fraction, but enough to knock a piece of stray metal across the floor.

“What was that?” One of the masked men asks.

The silence now following sounds threatening. You place your hand over your mouth, to quieten your breathing, as the scuffs of boots draws closer.

;;

“Ben!” Exclaimed Miguel, just as static breaks through his ear. He hisses, not expecting it, as he holds the earpiece, brows furrowed. Then the static grows clearer.

“Get the tech. Now! We can’t waste our time!”

“Boss, they’ll be back.”

Miguel narrows his eyes as he listens, confused at first. When he looks to the other spider-people they’re are all holding their own earpieces, trying to comprehend what they’re listening to.

“Who even made you in charge?”

“Who’s idea was it to lure those stupid spiders out on some fake mission, that, might I add, required a decent bunch of those freaks?”

“Lyla, what is this?” Miguel asks. She appears by him, tapping away at screens.

“It appears to be coming from a communal intercom.” She says.

“At HQ?” He asks, already flexing his claws. “Which one.”

“I’m just finding out. The connection is muffled.” More tapping.

“Well, lucky for us the remainders are all too busy in the lobby. Now hurry up and pack the bags.”

The voices still infiltrate Miguel’s ear. “Lyla.” He sounds impatient. “Which one?”

Then she stops tapping. “Y/n y/l/n’s.”

Miguel freezes, looking at Lyla as if she would be one to crack a joke. Then he hears the knock of something metal through his ear piece, followed by a ‘“What was that?”’. He can now hear your heavy breathes, slightly muffled, as heavy boots hit the floor.

Then all sound is gone.

He doesn’t wait for anyone, pressing his wristband to open the portal to HQ. But Jess stops him. “Miguel, think about this. What if it’s them?”

Miguel glances at her, shrugging her grip off his arm, as he taps at his wristband again, the portal opening up. His expression is downcast, one could easily say terrifying.

“Miguel! You have to think this through.” Jess persists. “We have spider-men and woman back at HQ—”

“Who are clearly too distracted to do anything.” Miguel grunts out, webbing towards the portal. But Ben intercepts this time.

“She’s right, Miguel. Don’t worry about the tech, we can get it back, or even get new ones—“

“The tech?” Miguel actually sounds in disbelief. “You think I’m fucking worried about the tech?!” His red eyes gleam, and Ben gulps.

“Then what are you worried about, Miguel?” Jess asks, exasperated. “Because I don’t see anything else that needs urgent attention. The tech is the main—“

“¿Tú no? The tech is the last of my worries, Jess.” Miguel interrupts. But this time he isn’t yelling. This time it’s toned down, and somehow that makes him appear much, much scarier.

“Miguel.” Jess tries to calm him down, not understanding what he could find more worrying. Data had been saved on that tech, important data. She places one hand on his wrist, but he immediately shrugs her off, glaring.

“Get out of my way.” He snarls. She doesn’t move, crossing her arms. “The reason why you aren’t hurt against that wall is because you earned my respect. That’s slipping, Jess.”

“Miguel you’re frantic.” She says.

“Call it what you want. I’m getting to HQ.” He webs past her, and Jess finally has the mind to let him go. Though she still stands there worried, and confused about what could have made Miguel so urgent to get to the scene.

;;

You tighten your hold on the intercom, now switching to use it as a possible weapon, as the boots near. You prepare yourself by silent deep breaths and a focused gaze.

The boots stop in front of you, pausing for only a moment. Then the desk is being flung to the side. You choke a gasp, managing to slam the intercom down into the guys shin, the harsh metal side bruising and buckling his leg.

He exclaims in pain as you scramble to your feet. You can finally see the detail on the three mens’ outfits. A dark green weaved into the fabric. Then you see the claws for hands, and all three of their masks turned to you. Shit.

“Who are you guys?” You manage to get out, as you reach behind you for a keyboard.

One looks at the other before looking back at you. “Were you here the whole time?”

You say nothing, edging closer to the exit. It’s silent from them for a moment then “…kill her.” The gruff voice of ‘boss’ says. And they’re quick.

You try to rush away but one yanks you back by your hair. You angrily swing around and knock the metal keyboard across one of their heads. Some of the pieces shatter against his mask.

But then one is grabbing your neck, pushing you against the wall. “Sorry—boss says no tattle tales.” The guy tightens his hold, and your hands scramble against his in an effort to intake air.

There’s a moment where your vision blurs. But there’s also a moment where his knee shifts letting your leg harshly kick out. You’re glad to find him humanised in his pants as he doubles over.

You rush away from the wall, heaving. One of the masked men is already trying to grab you and as his clawed hand wraps around your arm, he’s pulled back, a shining orange web yanking him straight into a monitor, his head smashing against glass.

The speed makes his claws cut across your flesh but your adrenaline is far too prominent for you to care. You notice the other guy stalking towards you, making you swiftly gaze around at your environment, Weapon. Weapon. Weapon. You stop on a machine, wires poking out, sparking with electricity. Holding a certain point you pull two out, ripping the electric wires, before stabbing them into his stomach, the electric current making his body shake and twitch.

You soon have to let go as they grow unbearably hot, leaving scolding burns on your fingertips and palms. That’s when you notice the owner of the orange web. Miguel has ruined the guy he originally threw into a monitor, his body now a bloody pulp.

You have to quickly look away to the second guy who had obviously gotten up from your kick and landed straight into Miguel’s palm. Miguel is retracting his claws from the masked man’s body, blood tainting the tips of his fingers, as he breaths harshly but somehow still controlled.

Miguel looks to the guy knocked out in front of you, still occasionally twitching from the strong current of electricity. You feel light headed, placing your hands on your knees as you try to slow your breathing.

But then you feel a hand. And not a friendly one as the masked man passes on some of the electricity moving through his body into your thigh. You scream, the half electrocuted guy—his hair frizzed and slightly cinched—stumbling to a stance, just as you fall to the floor.

Then you hear a crash and a curdling scream—not from you.

Miguel inserts his claws into the guys neck, practically ripping his throat out, as the guy chokes on his own blood. The blood sprays across Miguel’s face, leaving slight speckles as he rips the rest of the man with his teeth, letting him drop to the floor.

It was animalistic in way, as his tongue licked his fangs, his breathing now harsher—angrier.

But then he sees you drifting from consciousness on the floor.

Miguel doesn’t know what breathing is, or the meaning of the word slow, as he reaches your side in a millisecond, his hand coming to grab your face between his fingers—maybe a little harshly but his entire being was still on overdrive.

Miguel tightens his hold on your cheeks as he slightly shakes your head. “Y/l/n.” He hisses. “Wake up.“

He’s gentle now, realising that you’re a human and not some villain he needs to hurt, as he checks your pulse not wanting his claws to cut you. “Y/n!” He finally exclaims, as you get roused awake.

Your leg feels painfully numb, as your eyes flutter open. A thin layer of tears is making your eyes sparkle as you finally meet Miguel’s gaze. You try to slow your breathing, shutting your eyes to reassess.

Miguel tightens his hold on your cheeks. “No, no. Open them.”

You do, though they stay hooded. “I’m just…tired. No need to sound so harsh—shit.” The lasting electricity still spasms up your leg, as the hold of Miguel’s hand makes the tears fall.

You begin to shake your head, partially trying to get out of his hold. “Stop.” You say.

“Stop what?” Miguel instantly replies, his gaze shooting to your thigh.

“Just—“ you breathe. Then Miguel finds the deep scratch mark on your arm, his hand grabbing it as his eyes dart. “It’s fine. Just a cut.”

“Y/n, you just got attacked. You’re a weak human, don’t try to sound so tough.”

“You’re not helping.” You hiss, tilting your head back as you try to keep the tears in, not wanting them to fall. “And that was kind of mean.” You mutter the last part just for the sake of it. Using your pain induced state as an excuse to blurt out your annoyed feelings with Miguel.

Miguel grabs your chin, trying to pull your gaze back to his, but you resist, keeping it tilted away. “Stop.” You say again.

“No.” He answers, successfully pulling your chin back, and holding it there. “Why aren’t you looking me?”

Your eyes are darting around, before you choose to close them. “Y/n.” Miguel is stern, but underlying that he sounds almost desperate—almost.

You can feel him move closer to you and you place your hand out to stop him, your palm ending up against his chest. “Can you not—“

“What—not help you?” He asks harshly.

“Can you look away.” You say, finally opening your eyes. “Please.”

“Why?” Miguel isn’t budging, staying close to you. He’s already dialled in medical on his wristwatch.

“Jeezus Christ, Miguel! I don’t like fucking crying in front of people. It’s a weird thing I can’t get rid of. I hate it. It makes me feel embarrassed—“

“Embarrassed?” Miguel interrupts.

“Yes. Embarrassed.” You hiss harshly. You couldn’t find your filter, your tone far more aggressive then usual with the throbbing pain in your arm and the spasm of your thigh.

“Well, that stupid.” He says.

“Yeah, it is. But it’s not going away. So if you could just look away and let me…I dunno…recompose myself.”

“Recompose yourself?”

“Yes! Stop repeating what I’m saying!” You exclaim, only to follow with a groan of pain as you try to sit up.

Miguel knows your mind is frazzled and your body is reactive. He pushes you back down, grabbing your cheeks again.

“You got partially electrocuted and cut—deep, I’d think you’re a psychopath If you didn’t cry.” Miguel says, his volume dropped to one almost soothing—almost.

“Doesn’t make me hate it any less.” You mutter.

“Wow…I’ve never seen you this annoyed before.”

You narrow your eyes on him. His hand that was gingerly inspecting your thigh had slipped over your waist, partially caging you in.

You try again to sit up. But Miguel yet again, keeps you pressed to the floor. “O’hara.”

He leans closer to you, narrowing his eyes. “Stop moving.”

“I’m fine.”

“No your not.” He easily answers, which earns him a half hearted scoff. “You know I think I prefer you trying to suck up instead.”

You meet his gaze glaring. “I have not been sucking up, I just like—“

“This job. Yeah I’ve heard you.” He interrupts.

He can hear commotion behind him, but the voices of rushing spider-people makes his shoulders relax. The medical have arrived, and as you notice the new people you quickly wipe your cheeks, brushing against Miguel’s hand, as you get up.

Miguel finally let’s you, by slipping his arm around the back of your waist. You try to swat it away—any physical touch usually induces the waterworks you desperately wanted to keep at bay—but he tightens his hold, resulting in your side being flush against him.

The medical spiders inspect your bruised body. “It’s her thigh and upper arm…” Miguel begins telling the spiders. Then he grabs your hands holding your palms out. “And hands.” The burnt marks look raw, and you hiss as Miguel had to slightly stretch the skin to show.

He immediately lets go upon hearing the sound of pain. “Thanks Miguel, we’ll take it from here.” A medical spider says, already at your side checking your cut.

Miguel narrows his eyes on the spider variant, watching as you bite your lip as they inspect your wound. He sighs, finally getting up and letting your waist go. At the sudden shift your hand flies out to his leg, or more specifically his thigh.

Your quick, tight grip has Miguel stopping. You change your position, not having realised how much you were using Miguel as physical support, before you’re quickly taking your hand away and coughing.

You give him a brief nod. “Thanks for the help.”

Miguel scoffs. “Help? I did a bit more than help.”

You’re praying to get some anaesthetic soon so that your pain won’t make you loose your job. You press your lips together harshly. “Of course. You did spectacular.” You say.

The sarcasm isn’t lost on him. He eyes you once more before he’s walking out the exit.

You sat there, finally taking a proper breath. You don’t know why you were holding it for so long. …maybe you did have a clue. The image of Miguel ripping the guys neck out, blood staining his face is still fresh in your mind.

You’ll be honest, it scared you. He kind of scared you. But not in way you’d think he’d hurt you, just one that made him seem unpredictable. I mean what happened just then, with his touching and softer tone was something completely unforeseen.

If someone told you he would be do that today you’d actually laugh. Miguel was unpredictable and intimidating in general, sure, but what seemed to scare you more was the way he looked when his eyes shone with blood lust. His eye colour seemed fitting now.

You also happened to be scared of the way the sight made you feel. Something that settled far too low in your stomach.

;;

Miguel went straight to the lobby where a spider variant he kept high up in the ranks resided. “You. Get up. Now.”

The spider variant immediately stood, as he nervously followed Miguel to his office. The orange tech screens were the main thing lighting the place.

And as Spider-Man took a breath he lost it as soon as Miguel slowly turned to him. Blood still stained his skin and claws and suit, and the spider-man felt the urge to run.

“Where were you today?” Miguel asked, leaning back against a table and crossing his arms almost too casually.

“I was…here, Miguel.” He said steeling his spine. He knew where this was going.

“Were you?” Miguel asked, his eyes trained on the spider.

Spider man gulped. “I’m really sorry, Miguel. I didn’t hear any sort of explosion. I didn’t get any awareness. Which…shouldn’t happen.”

“You know what ‘shouldn’t happen’?” Miguel asks, now twirling an empty glass on the table. “Spider men and woman shouldn’t only rely on that “tingle thing”.”

The spider hangs his head lower in apology. “Someone could have died today.” Miguel continued. “And you would have what—been too busy playing poker?”

The spider variant winces at his words. Miguel knew of his addiction, always using his free time to gamble.

“Do you get that?” Miguel asks.

“I do. I’m sorry.”

“Sadly that’s not gonna cut it.” Miguel says, making spider man look up. “I left you in charge while I was gone. You failed miserably.”

“Miguel. I didn’t mean to only rely on my usual awareness, it’s a force of habit. That’s never happened before. I can always sense when danger is close.”

“But you didn’t.” Miguel says. “There’s someone in medical right now who got injured—badly. And she was all alone.” Miguel has stood up, stalking towards him.

“Now for personal reasons I may find her annoying.” He quickly mutters out. “But that certainly doesn’t mean you can let her die. Do you hear me?”

Spider man quickly nods. “Of course. This’ll never happen again.”

“No it won’t.” Miguel turns away, and the finality in his voice makes spider man’s eyes widen.

“Miguel—“

“Go home.” Miguel cuts in, stepping up to his screens. Anger still seeped from every pore.

;;

You woke up, feeling a dull ache in your body, but for the most part you felt alright. Better, a lot better. You swing your feet off the medical bed, realising that the lights were out.

Your feet hit the cold floor, before you quietly step towards the exit door.

Making it out to the hallway you were grateful you were already on the high level, no need for a long travel up the stairs.

You needed to rest. Alone. Not surrounded my medical items. You slowly headed to your room, but stop upon seeing a familiar body walking away.

“O’hara.” You say, making the figure freeze.

You quicken your steps, reaching him. He turns and you have to stop the intake of breathe at the reminded visual of the now dried blood.

“You didn’t want a shower?” You joked, forcing a chuckle.

Miguel just scans your body, narrowing his eyes, his expression is it’s typical, solemn and moody. “You should get back to bed.”

“I was actually heading to my room. But I just wanted to…thank you.” You say, finally making Miguel meet your gaze.

“You really did help me back there.” You spare him a small smile and a nod. Then your gaze gets caught back up in the blood stains, as you gulp.

“You saw, didn’t you?” Miguel suddenly asks.

You look up. “Mm?”

“The reason I’m covered in blood.”

“Oh.” You say. “It was…quite impressive.”

“No it wasn’t.” Miguel says making your brows furrow. He steps a fraction closer. “You didn’t think so.”

“What do you mean?”

Another step. “You thought I looked animalistic. Scary.”

You dart your gaze down to his slowly moving feet before quickly looking back up. You shake your head. And in return Miguel nods.

“You think I’m scary.” Everything he’s saying is statements. He knows, but you keep shaking your head.

“Don’t do that. Don’t lie.” He says, much, much closer now. “You’re terrible at it.”

You stop the shake of your head, blinking a few times. “O’hara—“

“Just be honest.”

“I am.” You say, straightening your spine. And as your eyes dart you notice a deep cut running across his thigh. The dried blood, his.

You step closer. “Why didn’t you get that checked out?”

He glances down at his wound. “It’s fine.”

“Oh come on, don’t do that. Don’t act like your above it all, including pain, and infection.” Your blatancy makes Miguel raise a brow.

You pause for a moment, mulling over potential decisions in your head. Then before it could get later and before you could back down you speak. “Follow me. Let me help.”

Miguel stares at you. “It’s fine—“ he goes to monotonously repeat.

You just grab his wrist, pulling him towards your room. Miguel grabs your wrist in turn, preparing to pull your hand off.

“Hey. You made me go to your room, now I’m just returning the favour.” You say.

Miguel stares at you, scoffing. You let go of his wrist, knowing you don’t have the strength to pull him. “If you’re scared I don’t know what I’m doing, then know that I studied to be a nurse before I found out about…all this.”

“Why?” Miguel asks. “Why help?” He elaborates.

“I just told you.” You say, beginning to head to your room. “I feel weird if I’ve seen your room when you haven’t yet seen mine.”

“That’s not a good reason at all.”

“But your walking my way aren’t you?”

Miguel hadn’t realised that he’d moved to your door without the permission of his mind. He curses under his breath as your scent floods his senses, your room making it ten times worse. This is the last thing he needed.

But you’re already shutting the door and ushering him further in. “You can um…” you look around. “You can just sit on the bed.”

No—Miguel thought. God, no. But you were already getting out an older looking kit from under textbooks—your stuff having been brought to you from your universe.

He slowly sits, trying not to get one bit comfortable. You reach his side placing the kit on the bed, as you drop to your knees.

Miguel’s breathing stops at the visual. You’re directly by his thigh…kneeling. No, no.

Miguel clicks his jaw, looking away. He looks back down, to see your hand is midway from touching his cut thigh. “Why are you doing this?” He can’t fathom why you would actually want to help him.

You sigh. “I just feel kinda bad.”

“Bad?”

“Mhm.” You nod.

“For any particular reason?” Miguel pushes.

“No.” You sarcastically scoff. “You’re just generally a person everyone feels bad for.”

Miguel narrows his eyes as you chuckle. He shifts on your bed. “Stop doing that.”

Your hand stops by his cut, thinking it’s the touching of his wound, when in actual fact it was the way your ‘chuckle’ had sent a strange vibration through him to somewhere he desperately didn’t want you to notice. He was right. This was a terrible idea.

Then you’re touching him. Delicate and gentle, as you pull away his ripped suit. You begin to dab what looks to be an alcohol cloth onto his wound, and in response Miguel snarls, his grip tightening around your sheets.

“Sorry.” You mutter.

“Dios.” He mutters, closing his eyes a moment. “Stop being nice.”

You look up at him. “I have to say, I’ve never heard someone say that. Usually it’s ‘stop being mean’.”

His face is tight as you continue to clean his cut. “Someone said that to you?”

You pause. “No actually. But I just mean in general. And I’m not being ‘nice’ to you. I’m returning a favour.”

“Ah.” He hums, before all his muscles tense. “Can you hurry up.”

“You’ve never let anyone touch you up before, have you?” Catching onto the fact that he’s clearly cleaned his past wounds himself.

Miguel glares at you. “So, you can stop.” He reaches to take the cloth from you, but you lean away resting your hand on his knee for support.

“You can just sit on the bed.” Miguel grits out. He couldn’t watch you being on your knees for him any longer. Not unless he’d do something he’d end up regretting.

“That’s okay, it’s an easier angle here.”

God. You had to stop. ‘Easier angel’? Yeah, Miguel definitely wasn’t thinking about you cleaning his cut. He runs his hand through his hair.

You quickly reach out grabbing his wrist. He looks at you, expectantly. “You have uh…blood on your fingertips…claws.”

Miguel darts his gaze across your face. “And you’re worried about it getting my…hair dirty?”

You shrug. “Well, now you’re making me sound stupid.”

“I don’t need to do that.” He quips, and you shoot him a glare. “But um…” he drifts off, as you look up at him, now waiting expectantly.

“Did you find me…scary, or whatever?” He asks, and surprisingly there’s a hint of…vulnerability hidden in his tone? No—you think to yourself—that can’t be right. “Before. With the anomalies.”

You dab a fraction harder, making Miguel hiss a groan. You ignore the way it vibrates through your body. You shake your head.

“Why do you keep lying?” He asks.

You sigh. “I just—“

“Just?” Miguel seemed to really want to get an answer out of you. He shifts closer. And when you don’t answer, continuing to focus on his wound, he grabs your jaw, pulling you up to meet his gaze. You gulp, his large hand nearly reaching to wrap around your neck.

“Do I scare you?”

Your chest picks up a quicker beat. He leans closer, pulling you towards him, your chest hitting his leg. “Do I—“

“Yes. Alright.” You quickly say. “A little bit…yes.”

His grip tightens around your chin a fraction. “Because of what you saw?”

“And the way you talk to people.” You mutter out. Why were saying this? This isn’t something you say to your boss.

You hadn’t noticed at first but one of his claws had begun to brush back and forth against the skin of your jaw, his eyes not leaving yours. You were utterly frozen. And there’s a moment that you just catch where his gaze darts down to your lips, his breath feeling extremely close.

But then he’s leaning away, his jaw clenching as he looks to the door. “Are you done?”

You quickly look down to his cut, rushing to get out a bandage. “Uh, almost.” Your entire body was buzzing.

While you stayed focused on finishing him up, Miguel’s gaze went back to staring at you. He almost gave in—almost. He wouldn’t, though.

You were scared of him. He knew you were somewhat so, but now hearing you say it confirmed that you’d never see him how he had gradually started seeing you. He had to stop. Now, before he dove in far too deep.

He couldn’t let himself go any deeper. Because at this rate he’d certainly drown, and if he was going to die, it wouldn’t be from some silly little crush.

okay, I’m sorry, I lied. there is nothing sexual in here. but I didn’t think adding anything like that yet would work. since a lot of you guys asked for a slow burn

again, I hope this is up to a good standard for you guys to continue reading. I wanted to add something a little different then the usual Spanish lesson then Miguel’s end of the deal. I needed some action of some sort.

and ofc, part five will come soon x love you all MWAH

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taglist #2 taglist #3

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colormepurplex2 · 6 days

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Shatter With Me | Waving The White Flag

↳ Model!Jungkook x Surrogate!f.Reader ⤜ Surrogacy, Best Friend's Husband ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 18,286 ⚠️ Crass language, talk of infertility, drinking, very mild bullying and references to cruel behavior/words, talk of surrogacy, at-home medical procedure, genital touching (non-sexual), planned pregnancy, talk of pregnancy termination/abortion, BIG hurt feelings, open palm slapping, accusations of infidelity

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Jungkook

Jungkook never thought he’d be haunted by such a small, seemingly insignificant thing. A tiny pastel pink line. Singular. Just like all the ones before it. He’s lost count of exactly how many, but it’s been years; every month, the same outcome. A singular pink line telling him he’s failed. He knows that’s a bit harsh, but it’s how he’s starting to feel—like a complete and utter failure.

“We’ll try again next month,” Jiyoon offers, dropping the offending piece of plastic in the bathroom trash before giving Jungkook a tight smile.

“Have you given any more thought to trying IVF again?” Jungkook asks hesitantly, knowing that’s a sore subject. But, dammit, he’s not in the proper headspace right now to think better of it.

Jiyoon glares at him, her pouty pink lips drawing taut. “I told you not to ask me that ever again. Now, get out. I’d like to take a shower.” When Jungkook doesn’t immediately move from his perch on the bathroom counter, she tags on a frustrated, “Please.”

Jungkook hops down, his socked feet swishing over the tiled floor as he retreats into the master bedroom. The door forcefully shuts right on his heels, echoing the hollow ache in the center of his chest. He promised himself that if it didn’t happen this time, he’d just try harder next time.

Yet, there is only so much he can do. Pushing any harder might widen the rift slowly forming between him and his wife. Already, Jiyoon spends more time at work than with him. Her glares of irritation any time he seeks intimacy outside of their strict ovulation schedule are like holes being punched into his resolve.

After nearly two years of trying, he sought medical answers a year ago. Jiyoon was quite cross with him when she found out he went to the doctor, but he needed to know if it was his fault they were having trouble conceiving. The numbers were standard, slightly higher than average even. The utter devastation on Jiyoon’s face, he’ll never be able to forget that day. Because if he isn’t the problem…then that means she is.

It’s his fault. He wasn’t even thinking about that potential. Jiyoon hasn’t been the same since. That’s when the schedule came into play. That’s when she started to pour far more energy into waiting for the perfect moment instead of just enjoying their time together.

Jungkook can see the disappointment, the guilt that eats away at her each time that single pink line reveals itself. He wishes more than anything there was a way to change it, something more he could do. Yet, she refuses to consider the option of IVF, not after the horror story she heard from her friend Dani. She refuses to even talk about it.

There has to be another way; he’s just not sure what it might be. Jungkook is at a loss, and it feels like the weight of the world is sitting heavy right between his shoulders. The shower kicks on in the bathroom, and Jungkook decides to busy himself by making Jiyoon a cup of tea for when she gets out. He knows she’ll want to spend some time relaxing before bed, and tea always helps.

💔💔💔

Not a day goes by that you don’t think about your best friend, Jiyoon, and the unfortunate circumstances that have befallen her and her husband. It’s not a secret amongst your peers that they’ve been trying to start a family with no luck for several years. It breaks your heart every time she gives you a shake of her head when you look at her with hopeful eyes.

Today isn’t any different. You’re sitting at your desk, absently clicking through the latest portfolio files you got from Namjoon, when Jiyoon walks by your desk, heading toward hers. She’s half an hour late this morning, something that’s pretty routine every few weeks. It’s like clockwork. You’re aware of the ovulation schedule that she and Jungkook keep and know that she allows herself extra time the morning after taking a test to steel herself against the disappointment that will come from the pitying stares in the office.

You catch her eye as she settles into her desk chair, and she gives you that subtle shake of her head. There is tension in her shoulders, and her bottom lip looks like she’s been chewing on it in irritation, but she turns around and gives you her back before you can think to question her about it.

“Morning, Jiyoon,” Namjoon says as he steps out of his office. Namjoon is also well aware of the unfortunate circumstances surrounding Jiyoon and Jungkook. It’s why he doesn’t hassle her about being late, something you’re endlessly grateful for.

Jiyoon is your only friend, and you are very protective of her. Well, that’s not entirely true. The protective part is, but she’s not technically your only friend. She’s just the longest friend you’ve had and the one you hold closest to your heart—your best friend. Though, even still, everyone else are really just people you know through Jiyoon or from work. Maybe that’s sad, but you don’t mind it.

“Jiyoon!” Dani squeals from the other side of the office. The bubbly, energetic woman flits across the room, looking every inch like a fairy with her blond pixie cut, petite stature, and buttoned nose.

“Oh gosh, hey. Come here!” Jiyoon swings her chair toward Dani as she beckons her forward, letting you catch a glimpse of her profile. There is a smile on her face, but it’s hard to tell whether it’s strained or not. Jiyoon has always been beautiful, with not a single wrinkle or blemish in sight. Looking at her body language, it’s even harder to tell.

Giggles punctuate their whispered words as Dani crouches beside Jiyoon’s chair, their heads pressed close together. You watch as Dani slips something into Jiyoon’s hand before she stands and waggles her brows down at your friend.

“Have fun,” Dani sing-songs as she prances away from Jiyoon’s desk. Her gunmetal eyes meet yours, and her face sours before she disappears beyond your cubicle.

“What’s that?” you ask a beat after she’s gone and before you can curb your curiosity, tinged with mild jealousy. Dani has made it clear before that she doesn’t like you very much, only tolerating you for Jiyoon’s sake. So, it’s no surprise that you don’t find yourself included when it comes to anything involving Dani—it’s something you’ve chalked up to her own jealousy, perhaps at the fact you’ve been Jiyoon’s friend for so long.

Jiyoon flicks her eyes in your direction before stuffing whatever Dani gave her into her purse. “Just some antacids,” she says, giving you a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

All suspicions disappear as you take in the controlled curve of her lips. She looks miserable. “Oh,” is all you can manage before Namjoon calls everyone’s attention to the front of the room.

“Good morning, everyone. Let’s start this week off on the right foot. We have reports to file and new contracts to negotiate…”

You and Jiyoon have always aspired to work for a marketing and media agency together. So, when the opportunity presented itself, you both were elated to land jobs with Kim Exclusives, one of the most popular management companies for up-and-coming artists, models, and influencers.

That was seven years ago, and your time here has only solidified your friendship with Jiyoon. She met her husband, Jungkook, through the agency. He was one of the first models signed to Kim Exclusives, and you and Jiyoon both handled his portfolio and schedule for a year before she had to give you sole leadership over it once they became intimately involved—the whole conflict of interests thing.

“Are we still meeting tonight?” you ask Jiyoon as the day draws to a close. She’s still diligently working away at her computer, and you stand outside her cubicle with your bag on your shoulder.

“Hmm? Oh. Umm, yeah, I guess. I might be a bit late, though.”

You peek over her shoulder. “Is that the new Song profile?”

“Yep,” she pops the end of the word, keying you into thinking she's not in the mood to chat right now.

“Okay, well, I’ll see you guys later then.”

Jiyoon makes a noncommittal sound, already focused back on her work. You miss the days when she would give you more than a few passing words. Even on her good days, it seems like she’s growing further and further away from you. It’s hard not to feel guilty over the bitter and lonely feelings you get when you think about it. It’s not Jiyoon’s fault that you don’t have more close friends to turn to. But sometimes you wish you meant as much to her as she does to you.

As soon as that thought crosses your mind, you mentally kick yourself. It’s not fair for you to think that. You know Jiyoon cares for you; she’s just had a rough few years, and you shouldn’t be making it about yourself.

Feeling truly like a shit friend, you continue to chastise yourself over the next two hours as you commute home and get ready for tonight. Five minutes away from the pub, you consider calling Jiyoon and canceling. But, just as you pull out your phone to do that, someone calls your name from down the sidewalk.

You turn to see Taehyung and Jungkook waving at you from across the street. Well, there goes your intention to cancel.

“Hey! Have you heard from Jiyoon?” Jungkook asks as he and Taehyung jog across the street.

You press your lips into a thin line, confused. “Did she not come home?”

“Ah, no. She said she was working late and that I should just go ahead and meet up with you and Taehyung. She’s, uh, well, she’s not answering my calls. We—this morning…sorry, just, have you talked to her?”

Doing your best to keep your eyes on his, you give him an honest answer, “She was still working when I left the office. I haven’t heard from her since.” Losing the battle against your will, your eyes sweep over your best friend’s husband. He’s just as gorgeous as he always has been. His hair is a little longer than the last time you saw him, licking at the collar of his denim jacket. As the lead on his contract, you know he recently landed a massive campaign with a new clothing company, their emblem stitched onto the breast of the coat. Jungkook looks every inch the model he is; his friend no less so.

“Hey! Happy Birthday!” Taehyung greets you as your eyes swing to him.

Warm embarrassment kisses your cheeks. You hate your birthday; you hate being the center of attention. “Thanks,” you murmur, giving him a tight smile.

“Oh, yeah, happy birthday,” Jungkook tacks on. He rubs the back of his neck, giving you an apologetic look. “Should we go ahead and go inside?”

“Yeah, sure.” As Taehyung leads the way inside, you type out a quick text to Jiyoon asking how long she’ll be.

Thirty minutes later, you’re sitting in a mildly withdrawn personal bubble of silence as Jungkook and Taehyung chat about work and sip on fingers of liquor. You’re normally not so silent with them, as they have been clients of yours for years but you’ve also grown to think of them as friends. It’s just you have a lot on your plate right now, Namjoon just added three new clients to your work portfolio, putting you at juggling almost a dozen. You don’t mind the added workload, it helps keep you busy, but it does mean you have to switch around your schedule a great deal and have less time to spend with Jungkook and Taehyung who are two of the longest portfolios you’ve managed. They have a joint ad campaign coming up for the whiskey they’re sampling right now and are trying to decide if they actually like it or not.

Over the years, you've learned that advertisements are just that—a cleverly crafted piece of media to highlight a product. The models in a hamburger ad could very well be vegan, but they’re paid to make you believe otherwise. So, even if they decide they don’t like the whiskey, money will say they do.

Taehyung is a bit newer to Kim Exclusives, a model by complete accident. He came into the office once with Jungkook, just friends hanging out with each other, and the moment Namjoon saw him, he had to have him. A few weeks later, Taehyung was added to the roster of elite models under Kim Exclusives, booking just as well as any veteran.

“It’s a little too smokey for me, I think,” Taehyung comments. “What do you think?” he asks, setting his glass on the table and startling you out of your thoughts.

“What?” You blink up at him, totally lost.

“Give it a taste.” He taps the rim of the glass. “Tell me what you think,” he encourages, pushing the glass closer to where your hands are clasped together on the table.

You don’t really want to try the whiskey, but the expectant looks on Taehyung and Jungkook’s faces make you pick up the glass and take a tentative sip. It burns across your tongue, coating your throat in a fiery, smokey blend of burnt spices. The flavor sits like ash in your mouth.

“It’s, uh…”

“Not great, right?” Jungkook gives you a lopsided grin, his shoulders stretching the seams of his jean jacket as he shrugs. “It’s okay to be honest about it.”

You slide the glass back across the tabletop toward Taehyung. “Yeah, it’s not great. It might be better on ice, but I’m not a big drinker, so I think it’s hard for me to judge it fairly.”

They both seem satisfied with this response and resume their conversation about the whiskey and the new campaign. You check your phone, wondering where Jiyoon could possibly be. There is no response to your text.

You’re picking at the frayed edge of the paper coaster that’s slowly growing waterlogged from the condensation dripping down your glass of ice water when Taehyung taps on the table in front of you, trying to capture your attention.

“Isn’t that right?” he asks.

“Sorry. Is what right?” You feel heat bloom in your cheeks at being caught not paying attention yet again.

“You’re healthy.”

That statement has confusion replacing your embarrassment. “Healthy?”

“Let me backtrack,” Taehyung says, leaning back in his seat and throwing an arm over the back of Jungkook’s chair.

“Taehyung, really, this isn’t the time—”

“Ahem,” Taehyung interrupts Jungkook’s protest. “Hypothetically speaking, if your best friend and her husband were to inquire of you about the possibility of surrogacy, what would you say?”

The dots aren’t connecting for you, and his blunt question makes you feel like you missed something important. “Surrogacy?” You don’t mean to sound like a broken record, repeating what Taehyung is saying, but you’re thoroughly having a tough time understanding.

“Listen, you don’t have to answer that,” Jungkook states, shaking his head at Taehyung and giving him a pleading look that says to stop while he’s ahead.

“Are you and Jiyoon looking into a surrogate?” you ask; everything suddenly clicks into place, and the question tumbles from your lips before you can stop it.

Jungkook grips the back of his neck and grumbles something incoherent towards Taehyung before he blows out a heavy breath and his eyes slowly rise to meet yours. “Not exactly, no. We haven’t talked about it yet. It’s just something I read about today. But, honestly, you don’t have to answer the question. Taehyung is just being a dick—”

“I’d do it.”

Your response leaves Jungkook with his mouth open and jaw slack as he stares at you in bewilderment.

“See, I told you. She’s perfect. Young, healthy, and someone you know and can trust,” Taehyung tots off, waving a finger in the air.

“Wait…are you serious?” Jungkook asks, pointedly ignoring Taehyung.

You’ve never considered being a mom before, at least not in that sense. It was always an assumption that it wouldn’t be in the cards for you—the whole lack of a love life thing being the crux of it. You’ve barely had a handful of boyfriends, much less a long-term commitment that would lead to a family. But, when it comes to Jiyoon, you’d do just about anything for her. So, if she asked you to carry a baby for her, you know, without a doubt, you’d do it.

“Y-yeah. Yes,” you state with more confidence. “I’d do that.”

Before Jungkook can respond, Jiyoon bustles in through the bar's front door, her lilting laughter drawing everyone’s attention. She has her phone pressed to her ear, and she’s smiling at whatever the person she’s speaking to is saying.

“Okay, yeah. Tomorrow sounds great. See you then,” Jiyoon says before ending the call and pocketing her phone. “Oh, Taehyung is here.” It’s a bland statement, Jiyoon’s eyes flicking over Jungkook’s best friend before landing on her husband. “Did you order me a drink already?”

Jungkook clears his throat, trying to compose himself before speaking. “Babe, hey. Um, no, I wasn’t sure when you’d get here. You weren’t responding to any of my calls or texts.”

Jiyoon slides into the empty seat beside you, across from Jungkook, and gives you a quick smile before wrinkling her nose in his direction. “I’ll take a glass of red.”

“Oh-kay,” Jungkook says slowly, a look of confusion ghosting over his features. “Where have you been?”

“Hmm? Oh, just busy with work,” Jiyoon says. “Wine, please, Jungkook.” His only response is a tight press of his lips before he stands up and disappears in the direction of the bar. Jiyoon clicks her tongue and angles herself to look at you. “You’re not drinking?” she asks, eyeing the glass of water on the table in front of you.

“Um, no. You know I don’t—”

“I know, you’re boring,” Jiyoon sighs. The only thing taking the sting out of her words is the smile she gives you. You know Jiyoon isn’t exactly what people would call a nice person; in fact, she’s often coined as a ‘mean girl.’ But she’s never been intentionally mean to you, not really. She just provides constructive criticism and encouragement to be the best version of yourself that you can be.

“Way to be a bitch to her on her birthday, Jiyoon,” Taehyung mumbles into his whiskey glass before tossing it back and downing the rest.

Jiyoon winces and then plasters a smile on her face before saying, “Right, happy birthday.”

“Yeah, thanks.” You make your best attempt at nonchalance, but you’re not sure it lands properly as Taehyung shakes his head, and Jiyoon sighs again.

“I forgot, okay? It’s been so busy at work and with—uh,” she pauses for just a second, and any other time you might not have noticed, but you can’t help but pick up on the way she rushes to continue, “the new client that you know Namjoon has been breathing down my neck over. The Harper portfolio, you know the one? And apparently, the Song profile needs to be redone on top of that.”

Jiyoon has been different lately. You’re aware that she took over one of the new higher-end clients, some big hot-shot movie star or something like that, but it’s almost made her seem like she thinks she’s above everyone else. It makes things tense sometimes like everyone is on edge when she comes around. You try to ignore it, for the sake of tonight. “It’s okay, Jiyoon, really.”

“Anyway, how are things going? It’s been a few weeks since we last talked about something other than work.”

Yeah, because every time you turn around Jiyoon is spending time with Dani or has a client meeting. You shrug. “Okay, I guess.”

Taehyung pipes up in the silence that follows, “We were actually just talking about surroga—”

“Red wine for my wife, another whiskey for Tae, the good stuff this time, and a pina colada for the birthday girl. Virgin, I made sure. I know you don’t like to drink alcohol,” Jungkook interrupts Taehyung, passing out the cluster of drinks in his hands.

You stare up at Jungkook, lips slightly parted as you try to think of the proper response, completely taken off guard by his gesture. Finally, you lamely offer, “Oh, uh, you didn’t have to, but thanks.”

“Nonsense. It’s your birthday, you deserve a little treat, and I know you like pineapple.” Jungkook settles back into his seat, and you try to keep your eyes off your best friend's husband. But it’s hard with how his hair falls into his face, and the denim hugs his shoulders as he relaxes against the back of his chair.

“Ew,” Jiyoon gags dramatically, startling your attention in her direction. “Is that a jacket from the shoot today?” She gestures at Jungkook, the distaste apparent on her face. “I know they didn’t dress you in that. What were they thinking?”

Jungkook frowns, staring down at the oversized light-wash jean jacket. “You don’t like it?” he asks.

Jiyoon scoffs, “It looks ridiculous, you look ridiculous. What the hell did you do to your hair? A mullet, really? It’s a wonder you’re a model. You were okay with this?” The last part is directed at you, because, as the lead on his profile, you’re the one who signed off on the hair and makeup for the shoot.

“Hey now,” Taehyung states loud enough to quiet the table; he’s clearly not having any of Jiyoon’s antics tonight, long work day or not. “Keep your petty bullshit opinions for when you’re at home. Tonight isn’t about you or how handsome my best friend is in his jean jacket and new hairstyle.” You can tell he intentionally calls Jungkook his best friend instead of Jiyoon’s husband as an extra jab.

“I never said he wasn’t handsome,” she grumbles, rolling her eyes before looking at Jungkook and sighing. “Sorry, dear, I’m just under a lot of stress. You know I didn’t mean it.” Her eyes flick to yours. “I know it’s not your fault.” You just give her a subtle shake of your head, not sure how to respond.

Clearing his throat, Jungkook smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes, and tries to move the conversation along. “It’s okay. Let’s just focus on why we’re here tonight.” He swings his eyes toward you, his smile becoming genuine, and begins to loudly belt out Happy Birthday, much to your dismay. This draws the attention of everyone else in the bar and earns you a generous round of applause when the singing finally fades.

You try to enjoy the rest of your night, but every time Jungkook catches you staring at him, you can’t help but feel a small spike of guilt; guilt over the perhaps tiny, mostly insignificant, completely harmless crush you might, perhaps, maybe have on your best friend’s husband.

It’s hard not to be attracted to him; Jiyoon knows that—she flaunts that fact. She also knows her claws are deep in him, and he’s not going anywhere. Jungkook would pull down the moon for her and then ask if she wanted the sun, too. You swallow down the last of your pina colada, eyes once again locked on Jungkook as he throws his head back and laughs at something Taehyung said.

Jiyoon presses her arm against yours, leaning in close to you. In a soft voice meant only for you, she whispers, “He really is perfect, isn’t he?”

“Hm? Who?”

“Don’t play coy with me,” she giggles drunkenly. “I know you were staring at him. My husband.”

You shrug. “I wasn’t staring.”

Jiyoon sighs wistfully. “It’s okay to stare, I don’t mind. I know what he looks like, after all. He’s so beautiful when he’s happy. I wish I could give him what he wants, he’d be the perfect father…I’m so scared to lose him.” The last part is whispered, so soft it’s hard to hear.

Instantly, your guilt turns into something else: resolve. You can’t bear the defeat you hear in her voice. It’s not something you can even begin to fathom—what she and Jungkook are going through. It’s no wonder she has caustic words at times. You meant what you said earlier, what you told Jungkook you were willing to do. With that in mind, you make a mental note to start researching and do what you can to make sure at least someone gets a happy ending here.

💔💔💔

Jungkook

The night of your birthday kept playing over and over again in Jungkook’s head the days that followed. Now, just as evening is rolling around, one week later, he can’t stop thinking about what you said, your confirmation. On top of that, that night was probably the most fun Jungkook has had in a long time—as long as he excludes the prickly start after Jiyoon arrived. He’s used to her snide and biting remarks after a long work day. Brushing them to the side and sweeping them away is usually easy.

But for some reason—perhaps it was the high he was riding after your confession and confirmation—it bothered him that she was doing it in front of Taehyung—in front of you. As if somehow her criticisms might make you both believe them. Not that he cares about being good-looking to Taehyung, or you for that matter, not really. It’s just that his first thought was what if that made you change your mind? Not necessarily whether or not he’s attractive, but the exchange as a whole. What if Jiyoon’s blatant criticisms made you want to change your mind because it somehow planted doubt in your mind that they’re a happy and healthy environment for a child?

“Jungkook.” The frustrated snap of his name brings him out of his thoughts. His eyes focus on the bathroom mirror once more, on Jiyoon, who is standing behind him with her hands on her hips, accentuating the flattering cut of the navy-colored dress she’s wearing. “Are you even listening to me?”

Turning and leaning back against the counter, Jungkook gives her his full attention. “Uh, yeah, sorry. You were talking about having dinner with a client tonight, and you’re leaving now to meet with Dani so you can get some files.”

“Yes,” she says, her lips twitching in mild surprise, and Jungkook knows she was expecting him not to have been paying attention. “I don’t know how long the dinner will last, so don’t wait up for me. It’s likely I’ll be home late.” She turns to go back into the bedroom, and Jungkook isn’t sure what possesses him, but he surges forward and gently snags her wrist, turning her back toward him. “Uh?” she makes a sound of mild questioning irritation.

“I have something I need—er, want—to talk to you about. It should only take a moment.”

She shakes his hold off her wrist and gives him a placating smile. “Okay, well, talk while I finish getting ready at least.” Not waiting to see if he follows, she disappears into the bedroom and heads to the closet, rummaging through her jewelry.

“Okay, um. Okay,” Jungkook stumbles over his words, feeling like he’s under pressure for some reason. “So, the other night, it was brought up in conversation, and uh, she already agreed, and it’s just that, well, there’s this thing called intracervical insemination and…how do you feel about surrogacy?”

There is a heavy pause, dread threatening to make Jungkook backpedal and eat his words just to snatch them back out of the air. Jiyoon glances at him over her shoulder, but he can’t get a clear read on her eyes. “What? Oh, yeah, sure,” she says, turning back to her digging.

Jungkook can’t tell whether Jiyoon is the one paying attention to him now, so he probes further, just to be clear. “You mean that? You’re okay with going the surrogacy route? My sperm, her egg…your best friend carrying our baby?”

Jiyoon’s back is to Jungkook, but he watches how her shoulders slide up in a shrug. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

“I’m not sure, it’s just that with ICI—”

“Look, Jungkook,” Jiyoon says, turning to face him fully. Her fingers work at slipping a pair of silver hoops into her earlobes. “I trust you.” She says the words slowly, keeping her eyes intently locked on his. “I know you’ll do your best for us. Whatever you want, it’s what I want, too. You know that.”

“Well, um, do you have any questions? We should talk…discuss this, er, something. I know how you feel about IVF. I want to make sure this is an option you truly want, and you’re not just saying this to make me happy. You should take some more time to think about it.” The fact she’s so quick to agree makes Jungkook question whether or not he’s hearing what he thinks he’s hearing.

Jiyoon cups one of his cheeks, gently thumbing over his bottom lip. “I don’t need time to think, because I’ve already thought about it. I—well, I was going to bring it up to you soon, but I wanted to do a bit more research first.”

“Wait, what? Really? You were thinking about ICI, too?” Jungkook swallows hard, leaning into his wife's warm touch.

“Yeah,” she whispers, her soft smile making her eyes twinkle and his heart melt.

Jungkook can’t help letting his eyes drink in his wife. They might have been going through rough patches the last few years, but that hasn’t lessened how he feels about her. Jungkook has always found her strikingly beautiful, with long legs and shiny hair that he loves to run his fingers through. But at this moment, he feels like he might burst with the love he has for her.

“Yeah? Okay. Okay,” he tries to suppress the emotion in his words. “Okay, perfect. I love you. I love you so much!”

Jiyoon laughs, and it sounds magical, as Jungkook sweeps her into his arms and plants a kiss on her lips. “Don’t smear my lipstick, please,” she mumbles, her voice light and playful.

“Go have a good dinner, secure the client, and don’t worry about anything else,” Jungkook bubbles happily, setting Jiyoon back on her feet. “I swear I’ll take care of it all. Everything will be perfect, absolutely perfect.”

An hour later, Jungkook walks up to your apartment door. He couldn’t stop himself earlier, so he immediately texted you and asked to see you as soon as Jiyoon left for Dani’s.

The door swings open before he can knock, revealing you standing there breathless and in a set of purple checkered pajamas. “Is everything okay?” you ask, worry lines creasing between your brows. “Your text sounded urgent.”

“Oh.” Jungkook feels terrible for making you concerned. He didn’t mean for it to come off like that. “No, I mean, yes, everything is okay. But, no, it’s not exactly urgent. Sorry for that. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

You lean against the doorframe, eyes wide on his. “What is it?”

“Er, uh, do you mind if I come in? This is more of a sit-down kind of conversation.”

The little ‘o’ your lips form is far cuter than Jungkook has a right to think it is. His mind instantly latches onto it, wondering if the baby would have your lips or his. “O-okay, sure, come on in.”

Jungkook has visited your apartment a handful of times over the years. It’s quaint and cozy, exactly what he’d imagine for you. There are books everywhere, shelves full of thick and thin volumes of literary prose. A few art pieces decorate the walls, along with dozens and dozens of black-and-white photos in simple frames. He stirs up the recollection that you enjoy photography in your spare time.

“Sorry, again, about my text. I didn’t mean to worry you, really.” Jungkook feels nervous, unsure where to stand or even sit, until you gesture toward the couch. A handful of well-loved decorative pillows are scattered across the burgundy suede. He settles at one end as you take the other, looking at him expectantly.

A beat or two passes, and Jungkook feels like he’s about to swallow his tongue until you open your mouth, clearly picking up on his distress. “Is it something with work? I can try to fix whatever it is first thing in the morning—”

“No, no,” Jungkook holds up a hand, shaking his head. “It’s not work. It’s um, it’s actually Jiyoon. Well, me and her, specifically.”

You pull your knees up and tuck your feet underneath yourself. “Oh, okay.”

“Were you serious about what you said the other night?” Jungkook blurts, figuring it’s best, like ripping off a bandaid.

Your bottom lip has an indent left from where you tucked it between your teeth before nodding. “Yes.” Jungkook didn’t necessarily expect you to say no, but the rush of relief he feels at hearing that encourages him to press on.

“I talked with Jiyoon about it today and she—we—would be honored if you’d do that for us. If you’d give us a chance at having a family. It’s…it’s something we both, deeply, deeply desire. If you’re truly serious about it, we’ll take care of everything, all medical expenses, bills, anything…just name it, it’s yours.”

“That’s—okay, okay, yes. Yes, I’ll do it. Just tell me what I need to do.”

Jungkook whoops loudly, jumping up from the couch, and drags you into his arms for a bear hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I can’t even begin to explain what this means to me, to us. This is…I can’t…oh my, I need to—wait, okay. Sorry, let me calm down for a second.” The word vomit is real, and Jungkook uses his hold on you to ground himself, moving his hands to your shoulders and locking his eyes on yours. “I think I might pass out,” he whispers a second before bursting into a giddy laugh.

“Whoa, um, sit down. Please don’t pass out on me. You’re too big for me to catch!” Your frantic words make him laugh even harder.

He shakes his head, on cloud nine. “I’m kidding, kind of. I just feel…I feel so light, like—well, it doesn’t matter about that. What matters is you. Please don’t feel obligated to do this. That’s the last thing I want. If you are serious, I can send all the information you need to you in the morning. But only if you’re certain.”

“Jungkook,” the way you say his name makes his heart thump heavy in his chest as if his fate hinges on whatever comes next. “I am serious. I promise. I want to do this for you, for Jiyoon…I want to give you both the happiness you deserve.”

“Thank you,” Jungkook says fervently, never meaning something more in his life.

This happiness carries Jungkook through the rest of the evening, turning into a brilliant flame of intimacy when Jiyoon crawls into bed beside him hours later. For the first time in a long time, there is no schedule, no waiting for the perfect moment; it’s just the love shared between two souls celebrating the joys of life.

💔💔💔

The following day, several emails from Jungkook are waiting for you; Jiyoon CC’d on them all, as well as a few texts to check in. The idea that you could possibly be pregnant in the coming weeks or months—not just pregnant, but pregnant with Jungkook’s baby for your best friend—still feels a bit surreal.

You texted Jiyoon last night, expressing to her how much she means to you and that you’re honored she wants it to be you that helps her fulfill her dreams of having a family. She hasn’t replied yet, but that doesn’t bother you; she’s probably busy helping Jungkook with planning.

There is an entire email dedicated to medical referrals. Apparently, Jungkook spent hours pouring over all the local doctors and medical facilities vetting to find the best ones. Each has notes and suggestions under them, along with all the information you might need to call and make an appointment.

That’s really all you need to do: make an appointment for a check-up. Taehyung made an assumption of your health last night, but it doesn’t hurt to be sure. The last thing you’d want to do is be in poor health and unable to keep your word.

Your fingers tremble as you dial the numbers, and you have to take a few shallow breaths to get your voice to work properly. Minutes later, you have an appointment scheduled for later this week. Now, all you have to do is figure out how you’re going to wait the next few days and not burst from anticipation. It’s a slow few days.

Apparently, by Googling every possible thing you can think of about being a surrogate and pregnancies. Along with the emails full of information, by the time you’re walking into the clinic for your appointment at the end of the week, you feel confident asking questions.

“Being a surrogate is a pretty serious situation. Have you considered all the possibilities and what might be required of you?” The doctor has a pleasant demeanor; her eyes are intense yet kind. It might be the steel-colored strands scattered through her hair or the wrinkles that deepen around her eyes when she smiles, but you feel comfortable opening up to her.

You roll your lips between your teeth before saying, “Honestly? Probably not as much as most surrogates. I’m sure there are things I’m not aware of yet. It was only presented to me a few days ago. But I have done some extensive reading and soul-searching, and I know it’s what I want.”

Dr. Lee contemplates you for a moment before nodding. “Yes, I believe you do. Let’s get started, shall we?”

It’s not uncomfortable going through all the tests and procedures. There isn’t much the doctor does that you haven’t done before. Samples are taken, and a routine exam is performed. As you leave, the nurse tells you you should have results within the next two weeks.

Thankfully, the results come at the beginning of the following week. You’re sitting at your desk at work, reviewing the final details for the whiskey campaign Jungkook and Taehyung are shooting in a few days, when you get the notification that your results are viewable on your patient portal. A moment before you click into the email, your phone buzzes in your pocket.

“Hello?” you whisper, cupping your hand around the base of your phone and mouth. A nurse rattles off your information, ensuring she speaks to the right person. “Yes, speaking.”

“I just wanted to let you know that all of your results are in, and Dr. Lee has signed off on your request to move forward with the surrogacy…” Everything else the nurse says is a bit hazy. She covers the numbers for your tests and where to find resources for more information on at-home intracervical insemination. “Do you have any questions for me? Ma’am, are you still there?”

“Oh, umm, yes, sorry. No questions, thank you so much.”

The line disconnects, and you sit there for a few more moments, the phone still held to your ear, as you try to process the giddy feeling bubbling up inside you. You need to tell Jiyoon, Jungkook, someone…anyone. Pushing up from your desk, you scan the area around you for your best friend and come up empty.

“Hello?” Jungkook answers on the second ring.

“Jungkook.”

“Oh, hey. Everything okay?”

“What? Oh. Yes. Yes, everything is okay. Everything is perfect. Do you know where Jiyoon might be? I haven’t seen her since she came into the office this morning.” You rack your brain, trying to remember if you saw her leave or go into another room.

“Yeah, she called a little while ago and said that Namjoon was having her meet one of the new clients for lunch to sign some more papers.”

“Right, that’s right,” you say, recalling that Namjoon asked her to come into his office shortly after she arrived this morning.

“Why? What’s up?”

You drag a slow, shallow breath into your lungs in an effort to slow your rapidly beating heart. “I heard back from the doctor.”

Jungkook urges you to continue, “Yeah? What did they say? Is everything okay? Are you okay?”

“I’m…I’m great. I’m perfect. I’m—I, I can do it. We can do it. There’s a chart,” you explain, wedging your phone between your ear and your shoulder to free your hands so you can pull up the email you got and forward it to him. “It has an estimated schedule and recommendations on timing for the best results. I just sent everything over to you.”

“I got it. Wow. Okay. Wow. Oh my…wow! I need to call Jiyoon. Fuck. Oh my god. Okay, thank you! I’ll call you back later, okay?” The line disconnects after Jungkook says a hurried goodbye, the elation in his voice evident.

According to the doctor's ovulation chart, the best time for you to begin trying is next week. Conception is most likely during a twenty-four-hour period. On your way home, you stop and pick up an ovulation testing kit so you can remain on track.

You arrive home filled with nervous energy, unable to stop smiling as you unpack the things you picked up at the pharmacy. A large box of pregnancy tests goes beside the ovulation kit in your medicine cabinet, along with a pack of medical gloves and hand sanitizer. You’re not sure what you’ll need, exactly, but you figure it’s better to have it and not need it than the other way around.

“Jiyoon!” you gush, swiping to answer the call coming in on your phone. “Hi!”

“Hey, I just got off the phone with Jungkook.” There is a lot of background noise, and it’s hard to hear her clearly.

“Oh, wonderful! I got the results today. There is a possibility of next week being—”

A loud laugh cuts through from Jiyoon’s end, the added clang of dishes drowning you out further. “Sorry, I’m still at dinner. Next week, you say? I’ll be going on a business trip the whole of next week, Namjoon wants me to travel with a client for a go-see.”

Disappointment drags at your shoulders and has your smile softening into a frown. You suppose it can wait a few more weeks. “Okay, no problem. That will give us time to plan a bit more anyway.”

“Sure thing!” Jiyoon yells, the line cutting out momentarily. “I’ll catch you later. I can’t wait to see you when I get back. Thank you. I love you so much!”

“Okay, yeah, love you—” The line goes dead before you can finish. “Love you, too,” you murmur into the quiet of your apartment.

A minor setback. But it’s okay; you’re sure you were getting ahead of yourself anyway. Taking a few weeks to confirm things and actually come up with a game plan is probably for the better. But it doesn’t hurt to start doing that now. Letting the smile that hadn’t left your face most of the day slide back onto your lips, you continue setting up everything in your bathroom so it’ll be there for when you do need it.

It turns out you don’t have to wait—at least, according to Jungkook. From the constant flood of text messages you’ve gotten from him over the last few days, as much as Jiyoon would love to be there to help, she’s given her blessing to proceed with the ICI without her. In her own words, via a text you got last night, there will be plenty more for her to be present for, and she’s far too excited for you to wait for her to return.

Jiyoon has been relatively quiet, but Jungkook explained in delicate words that she’s okay; she just has a lot on her plate right now. Even though it may seem like she’s on the outside, it’s more that this is a very sensitive topic for Jiyoon. Despite wanting a child, ICI is nearly as taboo a subject as IVF when it comes to Jiyoon; you know this. She’s told you how much it makes her feel like a failure. So, you’re content when Jungkook takes full responsibility for the surrogacy journey and has promised to be there for you every step of the way, including coming over to your place tonight to help you with the first ICI attempt.

You’ve been testing your ovulation each morning, and the positive test strip in your bathroom trash has started a full-tilt, day-long extravaganza. It’s a Thursday, just a few days after you got your green light from the doctor, meaning you were able to leave work early and are now sitting on your couch waiting patiently for Jungkook to arrive.

All your research and reading about ICI makes you nervous about what’s to come. It’s not that you’re going to be explicitly intimate with Jungkook, but you’re well aware of the fact that fresh sperm samples, as in within a thirty-minute window, are the best. Which means, he’s going to have to somehow provide the sample while he’s here.

The idea of Jungkook masturbating in your bathroom should feel awkward or perhaps embarrassing to think about, yet you’re oddly comfortable with it. It’s a natural thing, something necessary to create something that’s going to be beautiful.

By the time Jungkook knocks on your door, your hands are clammy, and it takes you two tries to get the handle to turn. He greets you with a giant smile and shining eyes, absolutely breathtaking.

“Hi,” he breathes.

“Hi,” you parrot, unable to contain from reflecting the smile still on his face. “Please, come on in.”

“Thanks.” Jungkook steps past you, and the soft fragrance of his laundry detergent catches in your nose. “I brought everything we need,” he says, holding up a bag. He’s wearing the same denim jacket he was the other night, a white T-shirt underneath above a pair of worn, light-washed jeans, and black boots on his feet that he toes off before heading into your living room.

“Can I get you anything to drink or maybe something to eat? Have you had dinner yet?” You’re not sure how this is going to go, if it’s just going to be a clinical experience or something more comfortable between friends. Because you are friends, right? At this point, you should consider him more than just your best friend’s husband; he should at least be seen as a friend of yours, too.

Jungkook deposits the bag on your couch and turns to look at you. “Um, maybe if you had some beer or something, but I know you don’t drink—” There is a nervous energy to the way he’s talking, words coming out a little too quickly “—so, er, maybe just some water is fine.”

“Actually,” you say, hurrying into the kitchen and opening the fridge, “I got, well, is this okay?” You hold up a 6-pack of beer you bought on a whim a few nights ago. It’s true that you don’t really drink, but you weren’t thinking of yourself at the time that you bought it. In actuality, you were thinking of Jungkook, knowing he’s partial to this brand, and figured…well, you’re not sure what you figured, you bought it before you could give it too much thought.

The corner of Jungkook’s mouth lifts, his smile turning into a light smirk. “Wow, my favorite. I’d love to, but actually, I’m not sure if I should, no matter how nervous I am right now…not until after, at least. I haven’t read anything about how alcohol might impact things, but I’ve not had a drop of alcohol to drink nor a bite of junk food in the last week, just in case.”

“Oh, right. Of course, I should have thought about that.”

“No, it’s okay. I wasn’t thinking either, I haven’t been able to think about much at all, if I’m being honest,” Jungkook laughs nervously, one of his hands rubbing at the back of his neck. “Is this weird? Are you sure you want to do this?”

It is weird, but not in a bad way, and you don’t want to admit that because you don’t want him to worry. So, you simply smile and shake your head. “It’s not all that weird, it’s…well, just not weird. I am nervous,” you decide to give him at least that. “I’m worried that it might not work, or that I might do something wrong.”

“W-what do you think you might do wrong?” Jungkook asks, moving closer to you. “I’ve…I’ve read a lot about the how, I even got an informational video from my doctor.”

You can feel heat crawling up your neck. “I’m not sure, exactly. I guess just the whole process in general.”

There is a beat where you can see Jungkook contemplating his words. He chews on his bottom lip, eyes unfocused for a moment before returning to you. “I could help if you want. Purely in a platonic, helpful way, no funny business, I swear.”

“Um, I don’t know if that…uh, I can try first, maybe?” You can’t seem to swallow past the thick knot in your throat at the thought of asking Jungkook to help assist you in…well, that.

“Sure, okay. Should we…get started?” Jungkook asks, his eyes flicking back to the bag he dropped on your couch.

Your stomach flips at his words. “Yeah,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, feeling suddenly even more shy than usual.

“Great.” Jungkook claps his hands together before retrieving the bag from the couch. “I have everything we need. It's probably best if we begin this in the bathroom.”

Your apartment has one bathroom, which is joined to the bedroom but is still accessible through the hallway. Jungkook leads the way down the hall, flicking on the light inside the bathroom before stepping aside to let you in as well.

“Have you talked with Jiyoon?” you ask, seeking something to fill the silence as you watch him unpack everything from the bag and arrange it on the bathroom counter.

Jungkook shakes his head in a so-so manner. “I spoke with her for a few minutes earlier to let her know the plan for tonight. She couldn’t talk long and it was hard to hear with all the background noise, but she’s excited and said she can’t wait to be back at the end of the week.”

After washing his hands, Jungkook opens up the packet of a large sterile pad and spreads it out across the rest of the counter. From the research you’ve done, you recognize some of the things he begins to set out. There is a collection cup with an orange screw-on lid, a large syringe with a hose attaching it to a bulbous silicone mushroom-shaped plug, and several single-use packets of water-based lube. He also sets out a box of pregnancy tests, giving you a sheepish smile when you raise an eyebrow at it.

“I, uh, bought some, too,” you say, opening the medicine cabinet to show him the large box of pregnancy tests sitting between your ovulation test kit and your toothbrush.

Jungkook smiles. “I guess we’re on the same wavelength, huh?”

You have to stop yourself from leaning too far into the unusual, yet enticingly warm and appealing, feeling you get when he smiles like that. Clearing your throat, you gesture to the spread of tools. “What now?”

“I think we should discuss a game plan, make sure we know what to do and when to do it. There are some things I’ve read online, plus the directions in this pamphlet,” he says, slipping a folded paper from the box the inseminator came in.

Leaning in, you try to read the step-by-step process written on the paper over Jungkook’s shoulder. He shifts, steps closer to you, and angles the pamphlet to make it easier for you to see.

“Step one, collect the sample. Step two, transfer the sample into the syringe. Step three, insert the silicone plug into the…v-vagina,” you choke over the word, feeling heat licking up your neck, “as close to the cervix as possible. Step four, depress the plunger to administer the sample.”

“Seems pretty simple, right?”

You’re not sure you’d say simple. Sure, step by step, it looks pretty straightforward, but you seem to be responsible for the most challenging part, and that makes you even more nervous than before. “Yeah, simple.”

“Give me a few minutes, I need to—uh,” he points to the sample cup. “I’ll, you know.”

“Oh, right, right, of course. I’ll just—" you hook a thumb over your shoulder towards the door that leads to your bedroom ”—wait in there.”

It’s hard not to pace around your bedroom as you wait. You try to stick to the far side of your bedroom, not wanting to come too close to the bathroom and overhear anything you shouldn’t. The fact your best friend’s husband is in your bathroom masturbating is a weird enough revelation, albeit a necessary one for the ICI procedure; you’d still rather afford him some privacy.

After three minutes, you stop counting the seconds that pass, realizing that means you’re counting how long it takes for Jungkook to produce the sample. Which is something you’re vehemently trying to avoid thinking about so casually.

The bathroom door opening startles you, stopping you in your tracks. Jungkook clears his throat. “Ready?”

You move over to the bathroom. “I think so.”

“Hey, it’s going to be okay. You can do this and don’t forget, I’ll be here if you need any help, promise. Purely for help, for the process.” Jungkook swipes a finger in an x over his chest. “Cross my heart.”

“You’re right,” you say, trying to bolster your own confidence. “I can do this.”

You step past Jungkook and into the bathroom, but his hand on your arm pulls you up short. “Wait, wait. Would you feel more comfortable doing it in your room? It’s just that I’ve read it’s best if you could lay on your back with your hips elevated for fifteen to thirty minutes after.” He nods at your bed. “More comfortable than the bathroom floor.”

The idea of doing this on your bed crosses a line, taking this from a medical process to something far more intimate. “Maybe just a pillow,” you say, grabbing one of the decorative throw pillows you never seem to remember to put back on your bed but keep in a small pile on the floor instead.

“Okay.” Jungkook gives you a small smile, and it makes his eyes look soft and bright. The kind of smile you hope you can help him bestow onto a baby.

You leave the door unlocked, just in case you need his help. In your bathroom, there is no evidence of Jungkook's actions other than the very full sample cup sitting on the medical pad covering the counter.

The cup is warm to the touch, which is startling, though you know it shouldn’t be. Placing the pillow down on the floor, you shimmy your pants and panties down your legs and step out of them. There is a lingering scent in the bathroom; it’s a mix of Jungkook’s cologne but also of something clinical. You realize there are two empty packets of lube in your trashcan, and you can’t help the image that pieces itself together in your mind.

Swallowing hard against the threatening flood of further indecent thoughts, you move quickly to prepare the inseminator. It’s a systematic process you can do with little thought—safe—unscrewing the cap of the cup and filling the syringe. Once you’re in position on the floor, hips elevated on the pillow, empty packets of lube discarded and your body primed, you take the silicone plug in one hand and the syringe in the other.

The directions make it seem so easy. But as you try to fit the silicone plug inside, you can’t seem to get it to go where you want it. It keeps slipping sideways and tugging at the tube connecting it to the syringe. Your heart begins to race as you realize you might not be able to do this—not on your own, at least.

By the fourth try, fifteen minutes have passed, and you’re in full-blown panic mode. Your breath wheezes in and out as you crunch up, hands fumbling between your thighs, and sweat forming on your brow. “Oh god, oh god. I—uh, god dammit…Jungkook!” His name is out of your mouth in a strangled yell before you can stop it.

“What is it? Is everything okay? Are you okay?” The frantic words are muffled through the door. The door rattles on its hinges, and you can tell he’s pressing up against it from the sound of denim scuffing along it, probably pressing his ear against it in an effort to hear your response.

You’ve managed to get it inside, but you’re not sure if you can get it all the way in, pressed up against your cervix where it needs to be. It’s possible you used too much lube, though the idea that it’s possible to have too much lubricant seems ridiculous. But no matter what you do or how far you press your fingers in, you’re either at a wrong angle, or your fingers keep slipping on the plug too much. Asking Jungkook for help is the last thing you want to do, but you’re not sure what other options there are.

“C-can you come in here?” you ask in a hoarse voice. There is a moment of silence before the door eases open and Jungkook sticks his head inside. His eyes are closed so tight it makes you let out a snap of nervous laughter. “I think…I think I need help. I’m sorry, I just can’t—it’s not going in all the way, I don’t think,” you gush in explanation.

“Do you—is it okay if I?” Jungkook asks, leaving the obvious unsaid.

“Um, yes…please. I’ve tried, and I just…I don’t want to ruin this. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Jungkook shuffles into the bathroom, eyes still firmly closed and arms out in the air. “Um, where exactly are you so I don’t step on you by accident?”

Snagging the edge of the towel hanging on the rack, you pull it down and drape it over your knees to make yourself as decent as you can be in this situation. “Just open your eyes, it’s okay.”

Slowly, his eyes peek open and finally land on where you’re laid out on the floor, bent knees covered in a towel and your shirt askew from all your efforts.

“How can I help?” Jungkook kneels down beside you, shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it to the side.

“I just…I don’t know if it’s all the way in. Can you—with your hand, I know that’s horrible and weird, but I don’t know what else to—”

“No, no, it’s not weird. I said I’d help. It’s clinical, right? We’re doing this just as a medical procedure. Like I said, no funny business, I swear. It’s for the baby. I’ll help you.”

“Okay.” You nod, squeezing your eyes shut because it’s hard to look him in the eye when he’s about to—the towel shifts, and cool air licking between your thighs has your mind going blank.

“Look at me,” Jungkook requests, to which you immediately comply. “I need you to promise me you’ll let me know if I hurt you or do something you don’t like. I’ll stop immediately, okay?” When you don’t immediately say anything, he adds, “I need you to tell me you understand.”

“I understand.”

Stretching across to the sink, Jungkook keeps his eyes on yours as he washes his hands and then shifts the towel more, folding it up and over your knees. “I’m going to place my hand on your thigh. Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

His fingers are gentle against your skin, softer than you expected, and warm from the water. You can feel errant droplets of water streak down your thigh and roll over the bottom of your ass. You try to focus on that feeling instead of the way Jungkook’s hand trails down your thigh until his fingers graze your outer lips.

“I’m going to use two of my fingers to try and seat the inseminator. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” this time, it comes out as more a breath than a word.

You tense at the subtle press of his fingers and how they probe their way down until they find your entrance. There is easily enough lube down there to grease a bakery’s worth of cake pans, considering the half a dozen empty packets now in your trashcan, but you can’t help but take a deep, fortifying breath as he begins to press in.

“Still okay?” he asks, fingers moving achingly slow.

“I think so.”

Jungkook’s brow pinches. “I feel it…only about two inches in. I’m going to push it further now. Tell me if it hurts or is uncomfortable.”

Never in a million years did you think you’d ever find yourself in this position. Not only are you butterflied open on your bathroom floor, but your best friend’s husband is now middle-knuckle deep in your vagina, and you’re not sure how to feel about it. In fact, you’re trying to do everything you can to not think about how you stretch around the intrusion of his fingers, or that it feels far better than it should.

“Do you think you can get it all the way?” you ask, voice warbling with nerves.

Jungkook hums, his lips pushing out as if he is trying to concentrate. “I think I’m almost there. Does that feel okay, is it good?”

Not once does he look away from you as he’s pushing deeper into your body. You think you want him to look away, to break that intimate contact, but you can’t even bring yourself to do that—even though you know you should. And the whispered exchange does little to help. Is it good? You’re going to burn in hell for the thoughts now flooding through.

“Oh!” You jolt in place, eyes going wide, all previous thoughts gathering into one singular point. Jungkook mirrors your surprise, his mouth popping open in silent shock.

“I’m so sorry!” he babbles. “I didn’t mean to do that. Oh fuck, god damn, shit…okay, sorry, let me just—” Jungkook is still gentle, yet swift in finishing seating the inseminator before quickly extracting his fingers from your body. “Please believe me when I say I am sorry, and I swear I wasn’t trying…I wasn’t trying to do that.”

Your body is still buzzing from the that he’s talking about—the graze of his thumb over your clit. It’s clear it was an accident by his reaction, but it does nothing to lessen the pulse that is now singing through your body.

“I-it’s okay. Really, it’s okay. It’s fine.” You’re not sure if your words are convincing enough, but Jungkook jerks his head in what you assume is a nod of acknowledgement.

“Um, it’s, uh, it’s in. Do you need me to do the syringe, too?”

“Just do it.” You exhale a shaky breath, finally tearing your eyes away from his. You’re confident he’s still watching you, even as he depresses the syringe and injects his cum into your body—as crass as that sounds in your head, that’s exactly what’s happening, and it’s the first time you think you’re realizing how truly fucked you are for this.

Nothing has happened between you and Jungkook, not in that way, but for some reason, guilt won’t leave you alone. You feel like you’ve just betrayed Jiyoon and feel even more like a ridiculous schoolgirl ruining her life over a crush on a boy. You’re intimately aware of the warmth and the subtle change in pressure as he finishes depressing the inseminator. It makes you want to squirm, but you chew your bottom lip and tap your toes instead.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asks, his voice soft and gentle.

“I should be asking you that,” you sigh.

Jungkook balks. “What? Why would you say that? I’m fine…I’m the one that—” He nods toward where your body is now covered with the towel again. As soon as he was done plunging the depressor, he unfolded the towel and made you decent once more.

“You didn’t mean to,” you say, maybe more as a reminder to yourself than him.

“No, but that doesn’t make it okay.” Jungkook settles back on his heels, using one of the wet wipes that came in the kit to clean his hands. Suddenly, he laughs. “This is ridiculous, right? I mean, look at us, we just did something…beautiful, and we’re not allowing ourselves to enjoy it.”

You chuckle softly, fidgeting with one of the ends of the towel. “It is kind of ridiculous, huh? Sorry that I freaked out and you had to do…that.”

”I’m not. Sorry, that is. I’m glad you asked for my help. We’re in this together.” Jungkook gives you a smile, similar to the one he wore when he knocked on your door over an hour ago, and takes up the hand not pinching at the towel in his, squeezing it. “I don’t know that I can even begin to articulate with words just what this means to me. Thank you so much.”

“It means a lot to me, as well. Being able to do this for you and Jiyoon is not something you need to thank me for. I’d do anything for her. She’s my best friend. We’ve been through so much together over the last twenty years…I just want to see her happy. You, too, of course.”

Jungkook hums in the back of his throat, keeping his hand wrapped around yours as he leans back, using the side of the tub for support. A comfortable silence settles between the two of you, spanning several minutes until Jungkook speaks again. “Have you ever thought about being a mom, you know, before this?”

It’s on the tip of your tongue to answer with what you think he wants to hear, that this has always been your wish, but instead, you choose to give him an honest answer. “Not really.”

”Why not? If you don’t mind me asking.”

If it were anyone else asking, you might mind, but…

You purse your lips before offering yet another truth. “I guess I just…I’m me, you know?”

”No, I don’t think I do know. What do you mean?”

“I’m a single woman in my thirties with no prospects on the horizon. My last boyfriend was over five years ago. I’m a modern-day spinster. Nothing is wrong with that, I love who I am…I just, no one has ever shown interest in me like that. Though it’s not necessary to have another person in the picture, it’s just that…I don’t even know, I’m rambling, sorry.”

Jungkook looks at you for a long moment, and it’s so hard to read his expression. All you want to do is plead with him to tell you what’s on his mind.

“You shouldn’t do that to yourself,” he finally says.

”Do what?” you ask, uncertain what he’s referring to.

“Sell yourself short like that. You are easily one of the hardest-working people I’ve ever met. You have a successful career and amazing tastes in art and food. Not to mention, you have the biggest heart of anyone I know. You’re…you’re amazing, and I know for a fact that people think so, too.”

You puff out a breath, trying not to laugh at him. “How could you possibly know that?”

“Because I’m one of them. I wouldn’t choose just anyone to do this with. After all, the baby will be half of you, too. A win-win in my book.” The corner of his mouth tilts in a small smile.

You’re pretty certain you’ve never had something create such a viscerally emotional response in you. It takes everything you have to blink away the sudden onslaught of tears that threaten to overwhelm you.

When you finally think you can speak without melting into a blubbering mess, you whisper, “I think you’re pretty amazing, too.”

💔💔💔

Jungkook

It’s well after midnight by the time Jungkook makes it home. He’s positively buzzing and can’t even think about going to bed just yet. There is far too much going on in his head, so he decides to expend some energy in the tiny home gym he turned one of the spare rooms into.

The condo he and Jiyoon bought two years into their marriage is spacious, spanning half the second and third floors of the building. There is a three-car garage on the first floor, as well as an elevator that leads to the landing out front. Across the landing is where Taehyung lives with his roommate Jimin, another well-to-do model they met through Kim Exclusives.

Jiyoon stuck her nose up at the fact that Taehyung was buying the unit across from them when Jungkook first told her, but so far, it hasn’t caused too many problems over the years. It helps at times like this, when Jiyoon is traveling for work, to have a friend so close by. Usually, Jungkook would knock next door when he can’t get his head cleared, but for some reason, Jungkook doesn’t want to tell Taehyung about what happened at your place. He doesn’t want to tell anyone, for that matter, holding onto it as a private thing for as long as possible.

Losing himself in sets of squats and curls is far safer than describing in maddening detail the way your soft, lush—Jungkook slams his hand against the squat rack and forces his thoughts away from that line of thinking.

Just because you’re a gorgeous woman with a nice body doesn’t give him the right to think about you like that. Especially considering he’s married to your best friend, whom he loves more than anything. Besides, he’s better than that, knows the whole alpha male hindbrain is the stuff of fantasy. There is no excuse for him having such sordid and outlandish thoughts about you like that. It was simply doing what needed to be done to help—for the baby.

With that in his mind instead, he moves through the motions of his workout. By the time he’s dripping sweat and his muscles are trembling with fatigue, the sun is starting to peek through the windows, and he hasn’t thought about you in hours—well, not much, at least. And when he does, he says it's just because he's thinking of what might be passed down to your baby—er—his and Jiyoon's baby—he reminds himself.

It’s been an excruciating three weeks waiting and waiting to hear from you about something other than work. After Jiyoon returned home from her business trip, Jungkook told her about that night, including the accidental slip-up. At first, she was upset, accusing him of taking advantage of her best friend. It took hours of strained conversation to get her to understand that it was more of a clinical procedure than Jungkook fingering you.

When that accusation was first thrown out, Jungkook was at a loss for words and completely thrown off the tracks. Jiyoon apologized, saying she didn’t understand how he didn’t think she’d be upset about it but that she’d forgive him for it anyway. She then gathered Jungkook into her arms, and they cuddled in bed for the first time in what felt like forever.

Jungkook wasn’t sure if Jiyoon would confront you at work over it, but as the days continued on without a peep from you, he figured things were okay between the two of you. There were times when Jungkook wished something had gone down with you and Jiyoon because then, at least, he’d have an excuse to talk to you in a way that didn’t make him look like he only cared about you now that you were possibly pregnant or with something work-related.

He knows these things take time, and there is only so much he can do. So, he’s been pouring himself into work and filling his schedule with as many activities as possible to keep his mind off of waiting.

“Jungkook, let’s go.” Taehyung raps his knuckles on Jungkook’s shoulder, grabbing his attention. “Head out of the clouds, daddy-o, we’re needed in hair and makeup.”

Sighing, Jungkook hauls himself off the couch in the studio waiting room and follows Taehyung into the space where the makeup and hair artists are set up. He arrived at the studio early this morning and had spent the last hour spilling his guts to Taehyung, something he promised himself he wouldn’t do but couldn’t keep it contained any longer.

“Don’t call me that,” Jungkook grumbles.

Taehyung smirks. “What? Is that not what you’re hoping to be called? Don’t tell me you and Jiyoon are into daddy roleplay. That might make it a little weird to have your kid also call you daddy—ow!”

Rubbing the back of his head where Jungkook smacked him, Taehyung harrumphs before sidestepping the line of chairs and taking a seat in the one farthest from Jungkook.

“Fuck off, Taehyung. After everything I just told you, that’s all you have to say?”

Taehyung throws up his hands, and the hairdresser at his station begins to comb through his black tresses. “The way it seems to me, you’re the only one making a big deal about this. If you want to check on her, I’m sure she won’t think it’s only because she’s your possible surrogate and not because you’re friends after this. And sure, you stuck your fingers into your wife’s best friend’s vagina, but so what? It was what you needed to do. If I really needed you to touch my dick in order to complete an important procedure, I hope you’d do it with a smile on your face.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to protest but closes it when he realizes he can’t really argue against that. Taehyung is right. He did what he had to do. Hell, he knows that, he used those words himself when explaining it to Jiyoon. There’s just this feeling he can’t shake, he’s far too nervous and on edge right now. If only you’d reach out, put him out of his misery with an update.

“I hate it when you’re right. I’ll stop being such a—”

“Hi, guys.”

“Excuse me, ma’am, only staff and models are allowed back here.”

“Whoa, hey, wait. She’s our manager, and she can be here.” Jungkook is quick to spout, not caring if there is desperation evident in his voice. Once his eyes landed on you, it was all he could do not to jump up from the makeup chair, cross the room, and drop to his knees and beg for an update.

The directing assistant who stepped in your path gives you a once-over that makes Jungkook grind his teeth, but he just sighs and steps to the side. “Okay, but you’re both needed on set in fifteen,” he says, directing the last part toward Jungkook and Taehyung.

“It’s okay, I won’t be long. I just…” You hold up a thin manilla envelope and give it a shake. “Jiyoon is out of the office for the day, she said I should let you see first and that you could tell her later tonight at home. So, here I am. I thought we could look together.”

The makeup artist dabbing a sponge on Jungkook’s jaw lifts an eyebrow when he jerks forward in the chair, intent on scrambling across the room despite being in the middle of blending.

“Two minutes,” she says, stepping back from Jungkook and turning to the makeup collection on her table.

“Okay!” Jungkook springs from the chair and rushes over to you, having no regard for the way his hair flops out of place on his forehead. “Hi,” he says when he’s standing in front of you. “I didn’t realize you had an appointment today.”

“I didn’t,” you tell him. “I just wasn’t feeling all that well this morning, so…well, I just wanted to ensure everything was okay. They had to do a pregnancy test, it was routine.” You offer the folder to him. “Want to do the honors?”

Jungkook’s fingers are trembling as he takes the folder from you. It takes him three tries to get the flap open and to extract the slip of paper inside. You give him an encouraging smile as he looks to you for reassurance before letting his eyes sweep over the report.

“It’s…we’re…you’re…holy fuck. You’re pregnant. You’re pregnant! YOU’RE PREGNANT!” Jungkook shouts before breaking out into a bout of ecstatic laughter. “Fucking hell, oh my god, you’re pregnant! I’m going to be a father. Me. A father. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Yes!”

You join in his laughter, the sound pleasant and musical, as he throws his arms around you and spins you in a circle. There are shining tears in your eyes when he sets you down again, happiness clear on your face. “I’m pregnant,” you whisper, the words reverent and full of awe.

There have never been more beautiful words. Jungkook can’t help but say them again. “We’re pregnant.”

It’s hard to say if what Jungkook is feeling right now is considered a healthy response to what his wife, Jiyoon, just told him. But, the erratic beat of his heart paired with the incessant ringing in his ears doesn’t necessarily feel bad, just like he’s having some sort of out-of-body experience.

“Say that again,” he requests, softly smacking his lips, trying to work moisture back into his mouth.

Jiyoon sighs, shuffling the papers on her lap. “I’m pregnant,” she repeats the same words you said just two weeks ago.

“You’re certain?” Jungkook wants to believe he heard her correctly but can’t help asking for clarity again.

“I am.” Jiyoon smiles at Jungkook, her eyes watery. “It’s right here, look.”

Jungkook hesitantly takes the top sheet of paper from Jiyoon, letting his eyes devour the words and numbers on it. It’s all there, everything he needs to see and know for the truth—hCG levels far, far above average, an inked red circle around it along with a doctor’s barely legible scrawl of ‘pregnant’ beside that.

“How far along? It’s been—” Jungkook pauses to try to do the math in his head; it’s been weeks since they were last intimate—the night they agreed to do ICI.

“About eight weeks,” Jiyoon offers. “I suspected a few weeks ago, you know, when I was a little sick that weekend—the one when we found out about, well, I didn’t want to get my hopes up or disappoint you if it wasn’t true, especially after such good news…so I scheduled an appointment. I had to be sure, had to be certain.”

“You’re pregnant.” The words feel thick on Jungkook’s tongue, like he’s trying to talk through a mouthful of peanut butter; sweet, decadent peanut butter.

“I am,” she whispers, the confirmation turning into a squeal of laughter as Jungkook sweeps her into his arms and shouts his own happiness.

Peppering kisses all over Jiyoon’s face, Jungkook hops around, alternating between shouting how much he loves her and how he can’t believe his luck. “I’m going to be a father. Twice! What did I do to deserve this?! I love you so much. Fuck!”

“Calm down,” Jiyoon giggles. “Put me down before you make me hurl.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” Jungkook pants, setting Jiyoon back down on her feet. “I’m just so excited!” He wiggles his hips and shimmies his shoulders. “We’ll need to order a second crib. Should we have the babies share a room at first? That seems the easier option, right? I bet there is a book on that somewhere, I need to go—”

“Hey, calm, right?” Jiyoon’s smile is warm, soft. “We have time. There is no need to rush. Can we just enjoy this for a little while longer?” she asks, grabbing one of his hands and placing it over her belly.

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes.” Pressing his forehead to hers, Jungkook wraps his other arms around Jiyoon and sighs contentedly. “I love you so much, babe.”

“I love you, too, Jungkook.”

💔💔💔

Jiyoon seems nervous, pushing around the chopped salad on her plate as she chews her bottom lip. She hasn’t met your eyes the entire time you’ve been at lunch. You want to ask her what’s wrong, but you’ve been friends with her long enough to know that she’ll come to you with it when she wants, and pushing won’t do you any good.

“So,” she draws the word out, lips forming an exaggerated pucker.

“Yes?”

“How are you feeling?” You can tell that’s not what she wants to say or ask, but you indulge her anyway, hoping you’ll get to the actual matter of why she insisted on going to lunch with you today.

You shift in your seat, setting your fork down on your half-empty plate. “I feel good. I just have some nausea in the mornings sometimes, but it’s not too bad.”

Finally, Jiyoon’s eyes come up to meet yours. “I know what you mean,” she says, the words slow and enunciated—pointed. Her free hand flutters over her belly as if for emphasis.

“What?” The word is more breath than question. “You are?”

“I am,” Jiyoon confirms, tears shining in her eyes.

“Oh, my goodness! Jiyoon! What? But how? Oh my goodness! That’s wonderful!” You can’t contain your excitement for your friend, throwing yourself across the tabletop to hug her fiercely.

She’s laughing as you sit back down, clearly buzzing with her own excitement. “We just found out. It seems a miracle was in our cards after all. It’s still early, nine weeks or so now.” That would make it just two weeks, give or take, before you and Jungkook did the ICI.

“Wow,” you breathe, your own hand landing on your stomach. “They might as well be twins. It’ll be so cool—what?” Jiyoon’s frown stilts your excitement. “What is it?”

She casts her eyes away from yours again, pulling her full bottom lip between her teeth before letting it pop back out. “I don’t know. I just thought…it’s not too late if you wanted to—I just know it’s a lot on someone, your body, the pain and everything that comes after. And now that I’m pregnant, it’s just, we don’t expect you to continue…if you don’t want. We’d be completely understanding and fully supportive if you—”

“Termination? Is that…what you’re talking about? And Jungkook agrees?”

Her nose wrinkles. “I don’t like that word. I’m just saying that we will support your decision to do that if you’d like. It was never in the plans to have more than one child, and now it would be two newborns at the same time…that’s a lot, you know? Twice as many diapers, bottles, and sleepless nights. It would be hard to say goodbye, but we’d still love you and not think less of you for it.”

Your mouth feels too dry for you to form words. You know what she’s saying. Though there isn’t a single ounce of you that desires that, you also understand the hesitation Jiyoon is expressing. She’s right. There wasn’t a plan for two babies. So, what now? Do you volunteer to help? Do you seek out the advice of a lawyer to know where your parental rights might sit in the case they decide they don’t want the baby in the end? So many thoughts swirl through your mind that it makes you dizzy.

“Can I think about it?” you ask, feeling for the first time a wave of uncertainty.

Jiyoon gives you what you assume is supposed to be an assuring smile. “Of course. And if you decide not to, I’m sure we can come up with some sort of system. We’ll figure it out.”

She seems so sure that no matter your decision, it’ll all be okay. “Really?”

“Absolutely. I want—we want, these babies, even if we didn’t plan for two. I was just letting you know that there is that option if you want it.”

“I-I don’t think I do, but if that changes…I’ll let you know.”

“That’s all I ask! Now, tell me, what do you think it’ll be?” she asks, patting her flat stomach again. “A boy or a girl? I’m leaning more towards a boy…”

💔💔💔

Jungkook

Jungkook still can’t believe his life. Two babies—two extraordinary miracles, it’s surreal—perfect. His calendar has never been more full. There’s the regular schedule of photo shoots, meetings, and other client work but now those are penned in between the baby classes he’s signed up for and various doctor’s appointments.

One of which is scheduled this afternoon, just a few hours after another this morning. There is your ten-week and then Jiyoon’s three-month appointment. Things have been going great with the pregnancies being so close together, but it does sometimes make appointments and times overlap. Which is how Jungkook finds himself sprinting across the parking lot of Jiyoon’s doctor’s office. He’s late—really late. He didn’t mean to arrive so late. It’s just that your appointment ran a little longer than expected, and traffic wasn’t exactly on his side, either.

Just as Jungkook puts his hand on the handle to open the door to the doctor’s office, it swings outward, nearly smacking him in the face. Jiyoon glares at him, a peeved sigh escaping her.

“You missed it.”

“What? No. I still have—” he glances down at his watch. “The appointment should have lasted at least forty-five minutes, and it’s only been thirty.”

Jiyoon rolls her eyes. “They were able to get me in a few minutes early.” She pushes past him and starts towards her car. “Everything is fine, by the way. The baby is measuring small but is still healthy. Thanks for asking,” she snarks, holding up a length of printed film.

Jungkook grabs the strip from her hand, jogging to keep up with her angry strides. “Wow,” he whispers, looking down at the 2D images. “She’s beautiful, so tiny.”

“She? It could be a boy.”

“Is that what you hope it is?” Jungkook asks, skipping ahead of Jiyoon before turning and walking backwards in front of her. His eyes barely leave the black-and-white grainy images. He traces over the faintly-there contours of the face, the delicate nose and forehead.

Clicking the unlock button on her keyfob, Jiyoon sighs again. “I just want it to be healthy. I don’t care what gender it is.”

“You don’t care?” Jungkook purses his lips, finally looking up at his wife. She’s wearing a designer pantsuit, the deep navy complementing her porcelain complexion and making the red lip she has on pop beautifully. Pregnancy looks good on her. He opens his mouth to tell her so when she cuts him off.

“Don’t say it like that. Of course, I care. Good god, Jungkook, why do you have to make me feel like shit all the time? First you missed my appointment, because why? Because you were busy playing daddy to someone else. And now, here you are, accusing me of being a terrible mother before it’s even born. Fuck you. Fuck you, Jungkook.”

Jungkook is so confused. “What? I didn’t—playing daddy? What are you talking about? I already said I was sorry for missing the appointment, you know the times were really close. It was her ten-week appointment. They were measuring her nuchal translucency, you remember how important that is!”

“Whatever,” Jiyoon deadpans, pushing around Jungkook and climbing into her car. “I have a meeting tonight, don’t wait up for me.”

Before Jungkook can respond, the door slams shut, Jiyoon turns over the engine, and takes off. Maybe not everything is perfect, he laments to himself, mulling over his earlier thoughts. With a determined expression on his face, Jungkook makes his way to his own car and promises to do his best to make this right, vowing not to let something like this happen again.

Of course, it’s only some weeks later that Jungkook has to break this vow. It’s not his fault, it’s no ones. It seems that life just wants to test him, perhaps make sure he’s honing his time management skills for when the babies come.

Everything has been going great since his hiccup with missing Jiyoon’s twelve-week appointment. He’s been able to shuffle around his schedule and work with the both of you to ensure appointments don’t overlap or are too close together.

Jiyoon has become reliant on him, which is something Jungkook revels in. It’s like their marriage is finally back to the way it once was, full of nights cuddled in bed and romantic dinners—sans the wine. While you’ve been fiercely independent, yet charmingly sweet when it comes to Jungkook and Jiyoon and sharing the pregnancy experience with them.

There have been a few discussions about the fact that now there are going to be two babies instead of one. Jungkook has spent nearly all of his free time turning the guest bedroom into a nursery fit for two. His home gym has become a catch-all, most of the equipment being confined into a corner to make room for the furniture that came out of the guest room-now-nursery.

It’s been a lot, but it’s something Jungkook would never trade for anything in all the world. He’s positively jubilant over the prospect of being a father. It’s something he’s dreamed about for as long as he can remember. Now, it’s just a few months away, a permanent light in his life.

“J-jungkook?” your trembling voice sounds through his phone when he swipes to answer the call, tossing the paint roller into the bucket. Butter yellow coats the walls of the nursery and dots the hem of his old t-shirt.

“Hey, is everything okay?”

“I think so. I don’t know. I slipped on the stairs, I’m at the ER right now—”

“I’m on my way!”

“Jungkook, no. It’s okay. I know you have things going on today. I just thought I should tell you. Jiyoon was in a meeting, so Namjoon said he’d pass her a memo when she was done.”

He’s supposed to attend a First-Time Fathers class in an hour, and Jiyoon has her twenty-two-week anatomy scan this afternoon. The class can wait. If he’s lucky, he can go to the ER, check on you, and then make it to Jiyoon’s appointment.

“No, no, you’re not sitting in the ER by yourself. I’ll text Jiyoon and let her know that I’m leaving now to come check on you.”

“O-okay.”

The line disconnects, and Jungkook slaps the lid on the paint bucket and throws a plastic sheet over the paint tray. If it dries out, then it dries out. Paint can be replaced; your health is far more crucial right now.

Walking into the entryway, he thumbs open his messages and types out a quick text to Jiyoon before tossing his phone on the small bench by the door so he can pull on his shoes.

It’s a twenty-minute drive to the hospital, and it takes another ten minutes of searching to find you sitting in a waiting room with a large ice pack resting on your right foot.

“Hey, are you okay? Have you been seen yet? How long have you been here? What happened?”

You hold up a hand to ward off more of his word vomit, an embarrassed smile soft on your face. “Slow down, have a seat. I’m okay. They said I should be called back soon.”

Instead of sitting, Jungkook kneels on the floor in front of you. His fingers the ice pack, his face falling even further. “What happened?”

“I slipped in the stairwell at work, missed the last step and came down hard on the side of my foot.”

“Can I?” he asks, fingers moving to the corner of the ice pack.

You nod. “Yeah.”

Lifting it gently, Jungkook takes in the sight of your foot. The black ballet flats you’re wearing give him a clear view of the swelling that’s already beginning along the top and side of your foot.

“Do you want me to find a wheelchair?”

Before you can answer Jungkook a nurse comes through one of the doors, pushing a wheelchair. She wheels it over to you and says, “Ready?”

“Yeah.”

Jungkook slips his arm under yours as you stand before slowly helping you lower into the wheelchair. “Would you like to push her back?” the nurse asks Jungkook.

“I can come?” he wonders, hopeful.

“Of course. Unless you’d rather wait out here, and I can call for you when your wife is done.”

“Oh, she’s not—”

“I’d like for you to come if that’s okay? I don’t really want to be alone,” you interject before Jungkook can correct the nurse. She gives Jungkook a polite nod and gestures towards the door she came through.

“Please come right this way. We’ll need to get a quick weight and a urine sample before I can get you into your room, where the doctor will see you shortly.”

Jungkook aids you the best he can, helping you to and from the wheelchair as he can. He almost asks if you want him to come into the restroom with you, but you give him a quick shake of your head before closing the door on him.

What feels like an eternity later, you’re finally settled on a bed with Jungkook sitting in the chair beside it.

“Thank you for being here,” you say quietly, drawing Jungkook’s attention. “I know I said I wanted you to come back with me, and it’s not that I want you to leave, but please don’t feel obligated to stay. I know you have a lot of other things going on.”

Shifting his chair closer, Jungkook reaches for one of your hands. “Nonsense. I’m glad you called. I feel bad that I haven’t been to as many doctor’s appointments with you. I feel like it’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve even seen you. I wish our schedules worked out a little better. Perhaps, as my manager, there’s something you can do about that?” he asks, giving you a jesting wink.

“I was trying to give you more time to go to Jiyoon’s appointments!” you laugh, covering your mouth with your hand.

“I know, but in case you forgot, you’re also carrying my child. Don’t get me wrong, though, the texts are great, and I really appreciate the weekly baby bump pictures, but it’d be nice to actually see you. Though, maybe next time, let’s make it not where you’re laid up in a hospital bed, not yet, at least,” he adds on with a low laugh.

This is the first time Jungkook has seen your bump in person. The soft swell under your shirt calls to him, and he wonders if it would be okay to touch it. As if you’re reading his mind, you take the hand that’s wrapped around yours and press it gently over your stomach.

“Kinda weird, huh?”

“No. No, not weird at all,” Jungkook says, being completely raw and honest with you. Jiyoon is touchy about her belly, pun wholly not intended, seeing as she doesn’t let him touch her bump nearly as much as he’d like to. She’s only recently started to show, and it’s hitting her hard, with which Jungkook tries to empathize. He can’t imagine being pregnant and how much a body changes; he’d probably feel things like that, too.

He spends a moment absorbing the feel, trying to imagine the little life growing just a few inches below his hand. Life he helped create. He’s so in awe he could cry…if it wasn’t for the door opening and breaking the momentary spell over him.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Lee. I’ll be your attending today. I hear you slipped down the stairs today and are worried your foot might be broken?” The cheery, middle-aged woman chatters away, washing her hands and drying them off before offering one to you and then to Jungkook.

“Yeah. I missed the last step and landed on the side of my foot pretty hard.” You shake your head with a rueful smile. “I should have just waited for the elevator.”

“Oh, ouch. Let’s take a look,” Dr. Lee coos. “May I?” She gestures to the blanket covering your feet. Jungkook helped you remove your shoes once you were in bed and tossed the blanket over your feet so they wouldn’t get cold.

“Of course.”

Dr. Lee pulls back the blanket and gently probes at your foot, turning it slowly side to side to get a better look. “Does this hurt?” she asks as she rotates your ankle.

“A little, not as much as putting pressure on it, though.”

The doctor nods. “I think it might be best if we do an x-ray just to be sure it’s not broken.”

“Won’t that be harmful to the baby?” Jungkook asks.

“Don’t worry, we’ll make sure to protect your little one.” Jungkook nods his understanding. “Is it your first? You look a little green around the gills, first-time-father jitters.”

Jungkook isn’t entirely sure how to answer that. Because, technically…no? Considering Jiyoon is approximately two weeks further along than you are. Would that make her baby his first? A laugh, barely restrained, simmers deep in Jungkook’s chest.

“Something like that,” he finally says, earning another warm smile from the doctor.

“Alright, let’s get started so I can get you two out of here as soon as possible.”

The word ‘soon’ should be a relative term when it comes to hospitals—or a word that hospital staff is barred from using. Jungkook doesn’t mind spending the hours waiting with you. In fact, you’re pretty pleasant company. That’s not to say Jiyoon isn’t when Jungkook attends appointments with her; there’s just a different level of expectation, he thinks. He hopes this baby will have your patience and grace like that.

Jiyoon wants a quiet observer sitting in the corner, whereas you’re welcoming to his insights and curiosities. You haven’t hushed him a single time when he’s voiced a question of any of the medical staff. In fact, it almost seems like you welcome it, comfortable in letting him show his concern for you.

Thankfully, the x-ray showed no break or fracture. You’ve been given a temporary boot to wear for the next week and strict instructions not to overdo it. “Got it,” you say once the nurse has finished explaining everything to you.

“Now, before we discharge you, we would like to have a sonographer brought in to check on the baby. According to your charts and file, you’re at the twenty-week mark now.”

Jungkook stands up, panic worming its way in. “Should we be worried? Is everything okay?”

The nurse gives him a motherly smile. “That’s what we would like to check.” She turns her attention to you. “You didn’t fall on your belly, but with any trauma to the body, it never hurts just to be sure.”

Of course. That makes sense to Jungkook, but he looks to you for confirmation. “Yeah? You want to do that?”

“That would be great, thanks.”

Jungkook has only attended two live ultrasounds in all the doctor’s appointments he has been to. He has many printed ultrasound images that are now stuck to the refrigerator at home, one side for Jiyoon and the other for you. But he’s only managed to attend one for Jiyoon and one for you, so this will be a wonderful treat.

“Okay, they’ll be here in just a moment.”

A few moments pass after the nurse leaves the room, and Jungkook allows himself to truly assess his internal feelings. He’s thankful that you’re okay and will feel even more at ease once the ultrasound confirms the baby is alright, too. It’s wild for Jungkook to think that just a few months ago, his life felt like it was on the verge of falling apart. There was a steadily growing rift between him and Jiyoon, and you were just Jiyoon’s best friend.

Now, however, he feels closer than ever to his wife, and you’ve managed to carve out your own little pocket in his heart, too. It’s alarming, yet comforting, to realize that there is something more between you and him—a deepening connection that’s still delicate but growing more solid with each passing day.

“You feeling okay?” Your voice breaks through Jungkook’s reverie.

“Hm? Me? I’m great,” he assures, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. You’ve barely let his hand go the entire time, to which Jungkook won’t complain. “Does it hurt much?” Jungkook nods toward the end of the bed, where your feet are back under the blanket.

You shrug. “It’s not so bad while laying here.”

“Hi!” a bubbly voice calls from the door a second before a young blond woman wheels an imaging cart into the room. “Are we ready to get a look at your little one before you guys go home?”

“Yep.” You give Jungkook’s hand a light squeeze. “Excited?” you ask in a soft voice meant only for him.

“Very,” he tells you, sitting up straighter in his chair.

“Now, this won’t be nearly as good as if we were in radiology in an exam room, but all we really want is to get a look to make sure everything is okay. Besides, who doesn’t want to take a peek when you get the chance, right?”

The tech, with Jungkook’s assistance, helps you adjust on the bed until you’re in a comfortable position for the ultrasound. Jungkook feels frozen as you tug your blouse up and over your belly, giving him his first real glimpse of the swell in all its glory. It’s one thing to see it through your shirt, another thing entirely to see it like this.

“Cold,” you chuckle as the tech squeezes a glob of contact gel onto your lower belly.

“Sorry about that, these carts unfortunately don’t have the warmers on them. Ah, here we are,” she sing-songs when she smoothes the wand over the gel. “Look at that.”

Jungkook tears his eyes from your face, focusing his gaze on the imaging machine's display screen. His breath stutters in his lungs, and a wave of pure, unrestrained joy washes over him.

“They’re perfect,” he says, voice thick with emotion. Jungkook watches as an arm moves across the screen, followed by a little kicking foot.

“Seeing them never ceases to take my breath away.” You take the words right out of Jungkook’s mouth.

The tech hums, giving you a soft smile as she moves the wand around to different angles. “No gender yet?” she asks. “I’ll try to be careful here, don’t want to have any spoilers…unless you would like to know?”

It’s hard not to be curious. “Is it not too early to tell?” Jungkook asks.

Turning the screen slightly away from you and Jungkook, the tech says, “Um, nope. Not too early. Everything looks good, though. So, if you’d rather wait, we can get cleaned up and be done here.”

“What do you say?” Jungkook looks at you with a raised brow.

Your teeth leave a dent in your bottom lip as you worry it for a moment. Another thing he thinks would be cute to see his mini-me do. “I kind of want to, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” he admits, loving the fact that you do.

“Okay, wonderful. In that case,” the tech says before moving the screen back and adjusting the wand on your belly. “Take a look here.”

When Jungkook arrives home, the sun has long since gone down, but he’s so high on cloud nine that he can’t bring himself to care. The large smile on his face hasn’t slipped in the slightest.

Jungkook is certain nothing can bring him down. At least, that is, until he walks through the front door of his condo and straight into hell. Jiyoon is sitting at their dining table, her expression completely devoid of emotion.

“Hey, babe. What’s going on?” Jungkook hesitantly asks, eyes sweeping the open layout and taking note that the only light on is the recessed one directly over Jiyoon. His smile slowly fades, replaced with a crease between his brows.

“What’s going on?” she asks in a cold voice.

“Is everything okay?”

Jiyoon sniffs, her eyes narrowing, the first sign of emotion he’s seen since he walked in. “No. Everything is not okay.”

“O…kay,” Jungkook draws the word out, letting his mind flip through its internal catalog, trying to find pieces of the puzzle to put together.

“Where have you been?”

“There was an accident. Did you get the note from—”

“You’ve not answered any of my calls or texts.”

“I sent you a text before I left. I think I misplaced my phone, I can’t seem to find—”

“You missed my appointment!” she sneers, cutting him off once more. “And you did not text me. I haven’t heard from you since this morning.”

Realization hits, and the warmth drains from Jungkook’s face. He was so focused on everything with you, the panic and then the joy, that he completely spaced on everything else he should have done today. But also…

“I swear I texted you to let you know I was going to the hospital. I was going to make sure everything was okay.” As soon as your name falls from his lips Jiyoon shoves back from the table and rounds it, getting in his face. “She slipped at work and thought she might have broken her foot. Namjoon was supposed to give you a note about it since you were in a meeting. She called me. I was worried. I didn’t mean to miss your appointment. Were they able to determine the gender?”

Jiyoon jabs a finger in the center of his chest. “Not. Good. Enough. I’m your wife, not her! You’re supposed to be with me! Instead, you spend all your fucking time with your nose up her ass when you barely even know her!” Jungkook staggers back as her poke turns into a fully-palmed shove. “You’re un-fucking-believable! What a goddamn joke.”

“Jiyoon, that’s not fair. Something could have been wrong with the baby. It was an emergency,” Jungkook says, trying to make Jiyoon see reason.

It doesn’t work.

“Fuck you! Why do you care so fucking much about that stupid baby?! All you do is fawn over the photos and re-read her text updates! This,” she gestures wildly at her stomach, “is the baby you should care about! Yet you can’t even show up when it counts.”

“You can’t be serious. This is ridiculous.” Jungkook keeps his tone level, refusing to be baited into a knock-down-drag-out with her.

“No!” Jiyoon screams, making Jungkook flinch. “You are ridiculous.” Suddenly a menacing smile cuts across her face. “I bet you slept with her. Didn’t you? That’s it, you’re feeling possessive because you fucked my best friend, and that’s how she got knocked up, isn’t it?”

Jiyoon’s words spark a ringing in Jungkook’s ears. “What?” he whispers, the word barely forming.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Jungkook. I know you too well for that. Let’s not forget your little slip-up—” she throws up air quotes as she says that “—the night you supposedly did ICI.”

“I told you it was an accident. I didn’t mean to do it!”

Sarcasm is a heavy, bitter layer in Jiyoon’s reply, “You just so happened to touch her clit? Just a little oopsie, so innocent. You’re too nice to outright lie to me, so, of course, you come up with some half-truth, expecting me to believe that you didn’t want it, that you weren’t secretly gnawing at the opportunity to try and seduce my best friend!”

“That is not what happened at all!”

“So I’m supposed to believe my pathetically inexperienced best friend is the one that seduced you, then?”

“What? That’s not what I said at all. No one seduced anyone. You’re being fucking crazy right now. You know I’d never do that to y—”

The crack of Jiyoon’s palm against his jaw stuns him into silence. “Don’t you dare call me crazy!” she screams. “You’d never do that to me? Yeah, right. You’re a man, and that’s what men do! Heaven forbid a woman works hard and spends time away from the home, trying to provide for her family. Is that it? I’m gone too much for your sad little dick, so you have to chase after the first desperate pussy that comes your way?”

Jungkook presses his fingers over the searing heat licking up his jaw where her hand struck him. “Jiyoon, no, it’s not like that at all,” he says, losing his momentum because he’s not sure what he can say at this point to make her see reason. “I wouldn’t cheat on you.”

“Fucking my best friend because she’s convenient and out of spite for me being gone so much? No, that sounds exactly like something you would do. Well, looks like it’s your lucky day because two can play that game, asshole. Enjoy your fucking prize!”

Jungkook jerks back, as if Jiyoon just slapped him again. “What does that mean?”

She laughs, the sound deep and throaty. “This baby—” she seethes, rubbing over the small swell of her belly, voice rising with every word “—it’s not yours, you pathetic bastard!”

Next Chapter⇾ (coming soon) ◅ Back to story masterlist

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2024-02-13 ColorMePurplex2

#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #dilf jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook imagines #bts smut #bts angst #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts imagines #bangtanwhq #btsfests

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yaut-jaknowit · 1 year

Note

Pls. Breeding fic, size difference, and old man yautja. Go wild.

Mating Season

Pairing: Uihoy (Male Yautja) x AFAB reader

Warnings: biting and clawing, blood, pain kink, little prep for you, primal play (sort of), HEAVY BREEDING KINK, knotting, lots and lots of cum, unrealistic idea of how sex works but you know – aliens, no aftercare, no soft Uihoy, very rough sex, very rough Uihoy, on the floor sex.

Word Count: 1897

Summary: Every year, it happens almost like clock work. Mating season. Some dread it while others enjoy it. Uihoy has mixed feels but can't help to fall victim to it. Especially with on of his mates on board and they say yes.

Author Note: I hope it was okay to use Uihoy. He's an old man Yautja. I sure tried to go wild with him. This was the perfect excuse to show the other side of Uihoy too. Ehehe.

P.s. I'm trying to write my stories a little bit shorter if possible. I hate not getting through requests as quickly as I want. Though almost 2000 words is a good amount.

Masterlist

Ao3

Part 2 (Yes, I finally did a part 2)

Thick arms wrapped around your torso and pulled you from the ground. You gasped and squirmed for only a second. Until a husky growl sounded next to your ear and caused the skin to prickle into goosebumps. Claws dug into your skin, sharp could easily tear through flesh. You heard a deep breath taken in before it fanned over your shoulder.

The body that held you was beyond blazing hot and tense. Each muscle strung tight like a bow. Beads of moisture rolling down purple scales. A hand twitching close to your waist. A long, spilt tongue licking at your neck and curled over the shell of your ear. “Do consent?” he growled into your ear and held steady.

Nothing would be done to you until the words ‘yes’ left your lips. Neither of your Yautjas would touch you without permission. Ever.

And you wouldn’t leave alone during the mating season.

“Yes.”

In his hungry, desperate state, Uihoy pinned you right there, in the middle of the cockpit. You put up a little fight, as if you were a female Yautja but Uihoy was quick to pinch your nape between deadly fangs. This had you stilling and relaxing underneath his hold. He kept that same position though as he tore your clothing from your body without a care in the world. You gave a little protest yet did nothing else.

Hands, coarse with time roamed over fragile skin. One was used to tug yours apart from one another, forcing you to exposed yourself to him. That same limb swiped through your folds to stop at your clit. A thumb was placed on top of it. Your hips immediately swirling to gain any sort of release with the predator pinning you down.

A dangerous growl rumbled through his chest and vibrated against your skin. The teeth that were on the verge of drawing blood tightened. You groaned but didn’t stop. Uihoy forced himself to bite harder. Blood pooled around the fangs in your skin before dribbling down to the warm floor below. The Yautja snarled again before ripping ever article of clothing that blocked him from that hot cunt waiting for him.

His blazing cock slapped against your labia once freed. You jumped, thigh muscles rippling as they clenched. A curse already falling from your lips. Your dull nails clawed at the metal floors with no luck of purchase. Uihoy seesawed his hips and rubbed his thick, heavy cock between your legs. The friction on your clit had you bowing your head. Accidently, you were able to see his actions as he pulled back fully.

Only the tip throbbed against your moist entrance. You bit harshly at your lips and sucked in a deep breath that filled your lungs. This wasn’t your first rodeo with him while he was in this state. He wasn’t his caring, loving, needy self. This was a Yautja in need of a cunt to breed and soak his cock.

Your thighs trembling as the Yautja shifted on his knees. The hold on your shoulder was released. Uihoy licked up a stripe from between your shoulder blades to the base of your neck. From there, he dragged his tongue to the crook of your neck. Iron filling his tastebuds.

The pointed head of his cock speared through your labia with a brutal thrust. Your head was thrown back and knocked against his broad shoulders. Uihoy pulled back out, only to push the rest of himself in on the second thrust. A pathetic cry scratched at your throat. Pain was apparent with little preparation for his size. That didn’t stop you from spreading your legs further apart to get more of him inside of you.

With his hips meeting the back of your thighs, it felt like he had forced the head of his penis into your womb, ready to seed you. Uihoy pulled out without any hesitation just to shove back into you.

Immediately, you began to pant as if you had crossed a desert running. Whimpers and whines filled the air besides the sounds of painfully slapping skin. Words of blabber to say something in praise tried to tumble from your loose lips. “Uie-Uie. Fu-ah, mmm. Go-od. Really good.” Neither of you could truly understand what had been said. The Yautja far too gone to truly care what you were saying. His main focus was breeding you, filling you with his thick seed in your womb while sealing it away with his large knot. You would be round with his children.

Uihoy’s cock throbbed inside of you, causing you to cry out in a high pitch. He didn’t stop, not once slowing down for anything.

When more time passed, the sounds of your dripping cunt grew in volume. Now, he could easily slip in and out without any struggle. At this point, you were struggling to stay perched on your elbows below him. He forced a great amount of his weight on you, practically draping himself over you.

Sweat stuck to you like a second skin. Beads of it dripped down your face and fell to the floor. You clenched the best you could around Uihoy. In retaliation, he thrusted particularly hard. It officially knocked you off of your elbows and onto the cockpit floor.

Talons clawed down your sides, dragging over fragile skin and drawing blood. That was final nail in the coffin. Your head reared back and smack against Uihoy’s shoulder again. It exposed your whole throat to him. He took the open opportunity and latched his inner mouth to the crook of your shoulder. Pain sprung to life as your orgasm crashed over you. His name left your lips in a mewl as you trembled underneath him.

He didn’t stop, thighs slapping against yours. They left marks of red skin behind in their pounding wake. Uihoy forced you to go though a shattering orgasm without a break to even catch a shallow breath. What he did next though surprised you.

A massive hand found its way around your throat and dragged you up. The male had you balancing on your knees as he drilled into you. He kept that grasp there, nails slightly biting into your skin. Blood already falling down the length of your body from the bites he created from earlier.

Your eyes were threatening to roll into the back of your head almost permanently now. His thrusts grew harsher, his snarls grew deeper, and his bite became more painful. All that had you squirming and writhing in Uihoy’s hold.

His other hand grasped the back of your knee and tugged it flush with your chest. A new angle that tugged a pathetic cry from your lips.

One last hard thrust had you sobbing. Your hands clawed at the hand around your throat as he held you there. His hips stuttered against you, pulling at the swelling knot inside of you. A blazing heat filled you, your womb full of his seed. The head of his cock piercing your cervix to breed you, to seed you.

The full size of knot kept every drop of him inside of you, not wasting anything. Everything was given to you. But he had more to offer.

Uihoy panted ruggedly which allowed you to breath almost freely as well. Tears prickled the corner of your eyes before rolling down your cheeks. He snarled shoved you down back to the floor. Your chest pressing into the ground. A huge paw keeping you pinned between the shoulder blades, unable to get up.

Then, he pulled out the knot. You gasped harshly but could only lay there and let him have his way with you. Your hands scrambled for anything that could give you something to hold but found nothing. The floor too smooth. You felt a huge gush of his seed spurt out and pool on the floor. Heeds of it coated the sides of your thighs.

The Yautja wasn’t satisfied, one knot wasn’t enough, his mind supplied. His tip was lined up with your red, soaked labia before pushing full force into you again. The sheer strength of him had you sliding up the floor. He grasped the back of your neck and pulled you back to him. He sheathed himself back into you fully. The large ball of flesh at the base of his cock catching on your entrance. That was the least of his worries right now.

Already, your cunt was feeling sore and rubbed raw. An effect they could have on you during this time of the year. But you fucking loved it. Loved it when Uihoy lets go and just uses your body for his pleasure, uses you to fill his seed into.

One of your hands found its way to your clit, on the verge of another orgasm. Your shaking fingers swirled around your drenched bundle of nerves. Shocks of pleasure and lust racing up your spine to settle in the base of your skull. You keened and shook as the orgasm built more and more as he moved inside of you.

The thickness of his cock filled you full, pushing what cum that stuck to your walls back out and dribbling to the floor. He kept rubbing at your g-spot. That electrified your clit and pushed you against another orgasm. You clenched your teeth when he raked his claws down your back. More blood swelling to the surface.

You mewled as an orgasm rolled over you in overwhelming waves. Your walls pulsed around him the best they could so stretched out. As if trying to pull him in deeper and deeper, to keep him far inside of you. A curse rolled off your tongue, barely understandable. Your whole body trembled like an earthquake rolled through you. But, you weren’t able to move more than an inch with his weight upon your back.

Uihoy forced his half-deflated knot back into your drenched cunt. More of your juices poured out of you into the pile between your shaking legs. The ball of flesh swelled again and sealed him deep inside of you again. You arched to the best of your ability, tears falling down your face again.

With how much he’s pumped into you these two times, your belly had grown noticeably. He had filled your uterus with a lot but not enough in his opinion to breed you.

More. He gave more and more and more. Until his body was beyond exhausted. He seated his knot past your entrance one last time and collapsed on top of you. An elbow prevented all of his weight to sit upon your much smaller frame. You gasped at the sudden weight then grunted.

He purred thickly in the back of his throat and tiredly nuzzled into your neck. Sharp fangs scratching across your skin without care. You couldn’t even shutter, body far beyond exhausted and drained of energy. The best you could do was huff and blink slowly, eyes staring blankly at the dark wall in front of you.

A hand petted down your sweaty skin before settling on your hip. With the rest of his energy, Uihoy rolled on to his back and pulled you with him. His knot almost slipped out due how much slick was between your legs. He let an arm be thrown over your torso before promptly passing out. Not a second later, you followed suit.

#yautja smut #yautja x you #yautja #uihoy #alien vs predator #predator #yautja x reader #predator x reader #predator x human #predator x you #x reader #smut #predator smut #alien smut

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gangplanksorenji · 3 months

Text

Kinknuary Day 20: Choking

Pairing: ITZY Yeji x Male Reader

Word Count: 5,582

[Kinknuary Masterlist]

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

“Going somewhere, huh?”

“Don’t talk to me.”

She’s a killer and a villain—those eyes strike daggers towards you to distance yourself away from her because if you don’t, then you’ll feel her wrath and you’re not going to like it. Stuck on an elevator, she seem repugnant about your demeanor, more so, your existence—you weren’t even lying onto that line but you guess that’s just how she judges you, and you’re in power to influence her with that as one word that comes out of your mouth is just drawing yourself closer to hell.

Of course, you love the risk and you’ll break it apart from her, no matter what happens.

“I don’t know why you are acting like this, Yeji?”

“And why the fuck are you even here?” Yeji retorts, laced with venom as her fierce eyes glared at you, making you pique your interest about her even more.

“I’ll attend a party, that’s why and you can’t stop me, Yeji.”

“I don’t fucking care—go on and just don’t be near me.” You can sense how she really despises you and it’s all going well according to plan—even though you know how she truly doesn’t like your presence, you can sense how it’s maybe a faux demeanor of hers and it’s a strong one. Maybe it’s just your way of clothing that she intensely disgusts because you caught her in the act—her eyes really lit up once she saw your body and you could only think of how she’s thirsty for you but of course, she needs to act tough because she’s always been like that.

“You know and probably, everybody knows in this company how I always like riding in elevators alone, unless it’s the specific people I want in and your stubborn brain probably didn’t know this, don’t you?” Yeji remarks and slaps you with what she’s entitled to and of course, you brush those off because the world doesn’t always go on her path, even luck not even lying on her side as always.

“I’m not stubborn and that’s not how it always works, Yeji—” Your choice of words infuriates her as she glares at you, her rage unable to be contained further as she lashes out how she’s so ungrateful to be in the same, compact space with her and god, you just want to shut that bratty mouth of hers.

“You shut the fuck up and listen—my dad is the C—E—fucking—O of this company and you wouldn’t dare to—oh!” The both of you yelp in response as the elevator thuds a little, knowing something’s off and that hint of anxiety kicking in because of the fear coursing down your veins.

“Fuck, we’re stuck in the elevator—oh no…”

“Yeah no shit, smarthead…” Yeji chides as the latter is filled with sarcasm, feeling uneasy as she doesn’t want to be late to the party upstairs and quickly contacts the emergency services but with an expected response, they wouldn’t meet Yeji’s complaints as you laugh because of her immediate panic and struggles.

“Twenty minutes? You’re joking, right? But please, can you just be quick cause’ I don’t want to die here because of suffocation! I’m telling this to my daddy!!”

You know that she’s over exaggerating and selfish, in all means because first of all: elevators are ventilated and you neither of you will suffocate because of this and second of all, she should’ve expected the slow service and just be patient, not acting like a goddamn brat just because of her connections and nepotism—god, you really hate her but you can’t lie, you find her incredibly hot and pretty that you just want to teach her a lesson that will sure make her a different person once you’re done with her but that would be settling on your imagination, for now.

“Stop over exaggerating Yeji, we will be fine here—”

“Shut up, loser! If it weren’t for you, this wouldn’t happen! You’re such a walking bad luck, argh, gosh!” Of course, Yeji would always respond like her anger is boiling through the roof and holding a deep grudge against you—you barely know each other and she’s acting like a psychotic freak who's always thinking for herself and you, will change that.

“You know your whining wouldn’t help anything, Yeji.” You feign a little concern over her, knowing that having a calm disposition and being completely composed would make both of your minds in a better state but because of her stubbornness and the unwilling act towards your suggestions, it will just put some salt onto the wound as she whines more because of you and how she detests you.

“Just shut the fuck up—-hah, god…” Yeji rests her head onto the metal walls, feeling defeated as being stuck in an elevator are one of the last few things she wants to see and she’s not really having it. You know with the complete silence of hers, marks something that there’s something unorthodox happening in her—you could catch her taking a glimpse of your body and maybe even your crotch but she wouldn’t mind even interacting seductively towards you and you don’t mind it because time will tell about each other’s fate.

Well, maybe the stars are aligning and something’s swerving inside her—she’s being unorthodox as something disturbing the force—

“Props to you though, you have a nice body…” Yeji catches you off-guard, averting her eyes towards you as she presents a coy demeanor with her faint smirks from time to time. You don’t know what got into her but you wouldn’t complain, and it’s drawing herself closer to your plan and you’re absolutely loving where this may go but of course, you need to fake your demeanor and won’t switch up easily.

“And what got into you, Yeji?”

“Oh, come on. I know I acted like a bitch earlier and I apologize for that—” Yeji inches closer towards you, her strong, floral scent nudging against your nose as you can feel the heat emanating from her, captivating you even more but you fight against that urge of yours, for now. “—won’t you wanna have some fun for now?”

She’s clearly alluring you towards something you’re probably oblivious of—of course, your clever mind isn’t nowhere near that, and you know where this will end as your cognizant mind will take this as a golden opportunity for your deepest desires.

“Is this the way you really want to kill time, Yeji?” There’s no frivolous disposition that can be seen on your face as you’re faking your disbelief against her suggestive propositions.

“Then what other way can you think of, hm?” You shrug, clueless about what could be the answer of your own question as she proves her point even further. “See? Nothing.I mean, we’re going to be stuck here for a while so…” Yeji inches closer towards you, feeling her hot, minty breath brushing against your nose as she smiles at you like a vixen, seducing with her sultry tone and her dainty fingers tracing circles at your chest. “Shall we have some fun?”

As much as you want to deny her, Yeji herself exudes such exuberance and hotness that you can’t resist—mostly her calm yet enthusiastic approach made for your decision and her beauty is beyond exceptional on your own books and you would love to get that fun with her, or rather, in her.

“You know—I know how you want to fuck me with those eyes. I can sense them, hm…” Her fingers run onto the hem of your sleeves up to your collar, subtly teasing you as her voice makes you melt and fall under her spell. “Maybe it’s time for a test, you know?”

You mock her, intimidating her as she just smiles with your constant rants, knowing that you’ll fall into the abyss of desires soon and you can sense it in her eyes, that’s why you want to play. “Do you think that’s going to work, Yeji? Oh please, make me~”

“You’ll see…” Yeji’s taunting gaze sends you into a state of captivation, where butterflies seemingly take over your stomach, making you fall for her attractive advances towards you and there’s no way in this world you’ll ever find herself unable to allure you. You know she’s growing impatient once she knelt down hurriedly and looked up at you, with a smirk as she’s about to be delighted with a treat that she’s been longing for.

“You don’t mind this, don’t you?”

“Well, do your thing, Yeji—it’s like I can stop you from here.”

Yeji scoffs as her hubris intimidates you, knowing how you’ll easily bite into her trap and your words laced with sincerity. “Glad you knew that.”

Not going to play with such golden time, she treasures every second and gives you a sinister smirk before tugging your pants and unbuttoning it, deftly enough before you could even comprehend what she’s been really doing to you. Yeji’s hands swiftly caressed its way to your thighs, making your little member grow enraged, filling it with lust as she eyes on it like its prey, her voracious needs only clouded her mind to slobber all over it and savor every second of tasting it. “You know you made me this stressed? Then, I guess I’ll need to find a way to de-stress myself using you.”

Without uttering a single word anymore, she swiftly brings your boxers down to your ankles as she’s flummoxed with your erected-length, almost hitting her in the face. Her pupils gradually dilated, her eyelids fluttering as she’s attracted to the musky scent of your shaft and the incredible length on it and with her curiosity peaking, she brought her hands around the base of it and stroked it slowly. Her touch brings you down onto your knees (figuratively) as the coldness of it breaks the heated atmosphere that has been emanating because of such suggestive actions.

“You know, let me share one thing about me.” Yeji flickered her tongue against your sensitive head, tasting only a hint of you as she never broke her intimidating façade, making your ears piqued onto listening to only her. “I like choking on a good fucking cock like this, hmmm—mwah, this is so perfect to look at and god, you know how I’ve wanting this for a long time now…”

She does love choking on a good fucking cock like yours, moreso, sucking it as her lips peppered kisses all over the vicinity of your shaft, not leaving any area untouched with her soft, plump flesh. You can bet her lipstick stains will stay onto the base of your shaft for later, and you’re just anticipating that because she’s nearing her way there, now taking a desirable length of your dick inside her slutty mouth.

Even though she’s clouding your mind with the stupendous work of her vacuum of a godlike mouth, you can’t help but think on why her demeanor suddenly changed. You know it has to be the unbearable boredom or she saw something in you that she became starved—yes, your goddamn crotch was her weakness and it wasn’t even hard for that to be not obvious. Her constant eyeing and lip bites was just enough for a strong evidence of hungers towards you and you just can’t believe how everything escalated quickly right now—you just can’t believe the fact that the C.E.O’s daughter is basically giving you mind-boggling blowjob at an elevator and the best you can do is to savor every second on what her lips can muster.

“So hungry for my cock, hm?”

Yeji constantly slurps on your succulent shaft as it took her a second to respond, too concentrated on sucking you off and giving you the most intense pleasure of all time. “Yeah—no shit why I slurped so hard on this delicious dick of yours.”

She continues her oral masterclass with more bobs as she takes you halfway in, slurping onto your length like it’s a delicious meal. She then grabs your hips for a better leverage on sucking you off and without anymore foreplay, it is time for the main event on why she even got into this mess in the first place. Constant bobbing ensues as the pace escalates ridiculously, you moaning in delight as you get to experience such fine pleasure from the beautiful orange-headed girl in front of you and you couldn’t really ask for more now. The hollowing suction of her cheeks tends to really make you feeble, pairing it alongside her talented mouth slobbering all over your shaft and making a filthy mess with her copious amounts of drool. You already knew how she loved the living fuck out of your cock when saliva inevitably seeps out of her mouth and lathering everything it meets around the vicinity and with that sight alone, is extremely arousing in levels you can’t even comprehend—add up the mascara running down her cheeks due to her tears running down because of her aggressive actions on your shaft, pushing herself over the limits.

You know Yeji won’t have enough nor even bother speaking at you when your addictive length is over her sight, ready for her slobber on and wanting her to pull out and give herself a breather, you mock her about how she’s not taking you whole and how she can do better than this. Everything that's happening right now is going well just according to your plan and you can’t wait for her to get baited to your trap as it’s just meters away from a surprise you wanted her to take.

“You know how I need to fucking taste every inch of you first, isn’t that ri—mmfh—mfh!!”

“Just shut the fuck up and choke on my cock, Yeji.” You know you can’t bear her talkative mouth to be all over the place, constantly ringing around ear when you can shut her up with a heartbeat, or rather, your entire length curried inside her slutty throat. You catch her off-guard with your actions but she doesn't complain but rather, further pushes herself more until her sharp nose is buried onto your pelvis, deepthroating you with hints of ease and struggles because of her constant gags.

Her iron will to penetrate herself deeper using her throat is phenomenal, and rather gave you the best oral service you’ve ever had as she bobbed her head furiously on your shaft, signaling her starvation onto it like it’s her favorite popsicle—this will be definitely her favorite popsicle to suck on, knowing how she’s enlightened on how succulent it is. She alternates between breakneck bobs up to five-second deepthroats which make you moan in need and your member throbbing violently because of its tightness.

She definitely loves choking on a good cock, she really does and this is just getting started.

“Fuck—your d-dick, it’s incredibly delicious—hmm, mwah, I l-love it…” Yeji continues to suck on your swollen slit, lapping the leaking precum coming out of it as her vixen eyes averted towards you, probably proposing to you something that you wouldn’t deny. “Give me your phone, quick.”

You can’t really comprehend what the hell is going through her right now—

“Come on, give me your phone! I don’t have all day…”

Well, you know what’s going to happen now and you would love to have a bad bitch like her to be just a call away on your contacts. Pulling your phone from the pockets inside your long sleeve suit, you quickly gave it to her as she grabbed it swiftly, going to your phone log and typing her number with a single hand and honestly, you’re impressed with her multitasking as it’s difficult to avert your attention onto two different things and giving them equal attention. You can clearly see the dexterity of her fingers as tapped the numbers correctly (probably) as she’s still ensuing a great pace with her other hand gripping your hips for the best leverage.

“Here you go…” Yeji then gives your phone back to you as you insert it in your pocket yet you’re in utter shock at what she just did and decided to really ask her about how worthy you are to save her number on your phone.

“But w-why? Didn’t you hate me for just breathing earlier?”

Yeji, again, didn’t respond attentively as she’s occupied in both ways: her mouth and her brain all averted onto her oral masterclass as after a few more bobs, she pulls her incredible suction of your constantly throbbing member, preparing herself to answer your profound question.

“This cock…” Yeji gives your length leisure strokes as you subtly moan in response, her hands really giving the paramount of pleasure as she continues her hand work all over your member. “Is my type, and you’re actually cute, honestly—I don’t know, should’ve not judged you that harshly earlier if you’re treating me this fucking beast.” She slaps her face with your rock-hard shaft as she continues her oral session with no time to waste. With an incredible pace already being ensued by her skillful mouth, you can’t help but just indulge to the gratification that she’s giving and to further make it worse, she doubled the time of her deepthroats between mind-boggling bobs, which completely makes you lose your own mind—most likely, in the verge of it but you’re doing your utter best to fight against it.

Knowing how close you can be with your member constantly throbbing onto her tight, pleasurable mouth, Yeji knows how she can make this mess a lot more filthier than what she has already done, further setting you up onto an arousing sight that will never forget.

“Why don’t you fuck my face to add up the mess, hm?” Yeji seduces you with her sultry voice as she lures you in to your deepest, lustful desires of filthiness and thinking about it, makes you even want to dive in to your temptations—you’re already given this golden opportunity, and it’s up to you to take it.

You should take it, you’re not going to lose anything about this but have everything to win it all—“Then I’ll fuck your goddamn face, Yeji—”

She gags on the spot as it comes with another one, constantly struggling with your entire length shoved down her throat as she encourages you even go rougher and with the given green light, you let the feral beast inside you go berserk.

You grab onto her orange locks, pulling it to form some makeshift-pigtails and further gave it all—you can find your hips ensuing a velocity that you thought you could never muster, as it goes rough on her mouth, pounding it like it’s going to be your last. This definitely wouldn’t be your last, and this will be your introduction to her own world as you continue thrusting into her mouth in full force, her constant sounds of her gags becoming apparent that it resonates around the elevator—you just hope no one would hear the profanities and sin the both of you are moaning about. You can see the filthy mess that has been all throughout her beautiful visage as the once fierce and modest vixen was now degraded into a perfect, sullied mess and it’s just the best thing to lay your eyes upon.

“You want to fucking choke on it? Then fucking choke it, Yeji. This slutty mouth is so tight I’ll pound this until your throat becomes sore, do you understand?” Yeji could only nod as your rampant thrusts makes her yelp because of your rough treatment—you know how much she loves this as the lustful glint in her eyes says a lot, now being converted to tears that adds up to the ruined mess that further ignites the heat of the sinful atmosphere. It wouldn’t be that long before your reservoir comes into a breaking point—you could feel yourself closing in and there’s no better way to end this on a complete filthy mess of a Hwang Yeji, on her knees, begging for your damn load to be deposited deep in her throat.

“Going to cum—you better take it all, Yeji—” She just constantly gags as the concoction of different, indistinguishable liquids are just all over the place sets up the most arousing part yet. You bury her nose into pelvis again, your balls pressed onto her chin as you unload everything you got, to the point of no-return and god, you’re just in heaven because of how enchanting this experience is.

Surprising enough, she takes it all as every spurt that shoots down on her walls makes her yelp in warmth but she fights to the urge of pulling out, not wanting to disappoint you in any means. She knows what she’s up to and a masterclass of her act, as she shows the abundance of your thick, warm semen at her tongue and suddenly, with two gulps, it all faded away from your sight within a blink of an eye, all stored for her to be savored by her stomach.

“God—that’s fucking delicious, not gonna lie to you, shit…” Yeji, still perplexed by what just happened, continues to compliment the taste of your seed as you smile because of it, your confidence now going over the roof. She smiles in return because of your harsh treatment on her mouth, loving every second she chokes and gags onto your whole length as she wants more of it but sadly, all great things won’t last for an eternity, meeting its painful demise as surprisingly, the elevator can now be felt working finally as you feel the both of you going up.

Now cleaning both of yourselves up, you prepare and make yourself presentable because of a freaky session the both of you went into by Yeji as she breaks the awkward silence. “Aren’t you going to join a party?”

“Nah, I was kidding earlier—I’m actually going to just meet someone way up the building but I guess we got stuck here so… yeah.”

Yeji nods as she further wipes her tears with some tissues, the elevator can be heard by a single ding, marking the arrival of her destination.

“I guess this marks the end of our meeting, hm?”

“I guess so…” You scoff as Yeji scouts herself out of the elevator but before she does so, she leaves words for you for further reassurance.

“I’m not done with you, meet me at the ground floor at 11 P.M. You better be there because I need to know you more, baby.”

And there, your heart beats unexplainably fast before the elevator doors close and you could just see her scrumptious frame swaying, walking like a model of your dreams and god, what a fucking experience you dived yourself into and it all feels like a damn dream…

---

“Didn’t really miss my call, hm—ohh…”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

You continue peppering her neck with kisses that further ignites the heat of the atmosphere around, making everything a runback on what happened earlier but this is way better and more intimate than ever before. Yes, this was just the girl who despised your existence earlier and is now equally naked as you are, sharing such intimate kisses and filthy talks meant to arouse the both of you, up to the roof.

“Was really hesitating at first but—” Your soft pecks releases the sultriest moans from her lips, voicing out how incredibly skilled you are with your lips and how you can make her feel good, yet you continue, “—I know how genuine your tone is, and probably, wishing for chance…”

Yeji looks at your eyes, endeared but full of lust as she speaks at you, “And that chance is fulfilled right now…”.

This is just phenomenal, no matter what you say. You still can’t fathom how this is real but you’re not complaining at any means but rather, cherish every second that passes with this beautiful woman. Now, with Yeji pulling herself out of your lips’ warm embrace, she can’t contain her primal urges anymore and with the scrumptious sight of her, the feelings are just mutual as she breaks another silence—“Fuck me now, baby. Show me what you got.”

Giving her a faint smile and then a smirk, you then let her lie down on the bed as she rests on but then, you got to know how she really wanted it as you want to treat her roughly but in her own accord. “I want it from behind, baby—where you can see everything you want to see~”

You never expected Yeji to lay such a perfect invitation for you, her lazy, sultry voice alongside her momentary alluring moves towards you just makes your heart be captivated and you can’t ask for more with that. With her constant wringing of her ass for you to further fall onto your deepest temptations, you brushed your full-erected cock onto the heat of her core, teasing her with a pace similar to being stagnant in which she whines because of your leisure actions.

“Don’t tease me, baby—I want it all rough inside me—please, ohh…”

As much as you want to do the opposite, the thought of being rough towards Yeji is turning you on so much that you could imagine all of the possible ways to really sully her into oblivion. That wouldn’t lay onto the cloud of thoughts as soon as you place both of your hands on her hips, caressing them to further absorb that lustful energy she’s emanating by her constant sways and within a second, it all went onto the state of utter bliss.

Like what Yeji said from the beginning, she wanted it rough with you then you’ll have it that way as your hips ensued such a ruthless pace, not giving her a breather as you caught her off-guard, constantly whimpering with your whole length ravaging her velvety walls without a break. Of course, you’re merciful, you won’t commit at such a ridiculous pace enough to break her but with her complete wetness, it didn’t become a struggle to pound her yet her inevitable tightness would like to have a talk, constant gripping on your shaft like it wouldn’t let go.

“You’re fucking t-tight, Yeji—god!”

“And you’re fucking big i-inside—ahh, m-me—but fuck me anyways!!”

Of course you will, as you completely disassemble her tough, bitchy demeanor into a state of submissiveness, further oscillating your hips onto a constant rampage of ruthless thrusts that makes both parties succumb onto their deepest desires—all committed onto the most sinful act possible in mankind. Her moans became orchestrated to the point it became a subsequent noise that’s music to your ears and it’s just making your arousal skyrocket up to the sky. With her buttcheeks constantly getting shaken like an earthquake because of such powerful magnitudes of your thrusts, you compose a proposition that will make everything elevated: slapping the porcelain skin of her butt would probably ignite the lust even more, and you did just that. Yeji loves how you’re going rough on her backside as the constant clashing of bodies denounce the deepest sinful act the both of you could possibly be into and she further encourages you for more but something’s breaking the lustful noise with her profound wants.

“Gosh—ahh, fuck! Choke m-me while you’re—gahh, f-fucking me, please! Fucking c-choke me—oh my god!!”

You saw that coming and thought she would actually forget about that because of your length constantly ramming her tight cunt which makes her brain go haywire and would only think of your constantly-rough treatment. You never knew a girl like Yeji would be into such a wild fetish and you can’t blame her for that—the fact that she treated your cock in her mouth earlier all sloppily and ruthless says the fact that both feelings are mutual, again.

With her wants all over the way, she didn’t even bother to talk as you fulfill her request, further pounding into her tightness while wrapping your hand almost around her neck with your palm onto her nape, further igniting the lustful asphyxiation that she’s been into. Her moans now are becoming broken because of the lack of oxygen as the thrill turns Yeji on, more than what you could expect and guess what, it’s maybe evident that it’s one of her real fetishes. You can find her tight cunt constricting around your rapid length as the utmost stimulation and lack of breath is overloading her senses, between the risky play of life and death coming to play as she moans erotically because of your actions. You don’t want a beautiful girl laying down unconscious as with her constant swears, you let go of your tight grip around her neck as she catches her breath as soon as you let her airflow be present again.

Formulating the right ways to make her arousal go up in the sky, you alternate your hands on spanking her buttcheeks and choking her neck, the play of her fetishes finally making the experience of sex more elevated, her subsequent moans letting you know how much she loves it. You could really feel the utter wetness that has been seeping out of her core right now, forming rivulets of her own juices and coating what it can around the vicinity—might as well change her bed sheets because Yeji wouldn’t help sleeping on a wet bed mostly because of her. Because of your ridiculous pace and your rough treatment towards her, Yeji can’t help raise the volume of her angelic moans and soon enough, her highly-anticipated high.

“Oh my g-god—choke m-me, baby—I wanna f-fucking cum while—you, ahh—choke m-me!!”

Then you’ll fulfill her needs because she’s the star of this show, and you’ll do whatever she requests you to do. You maintain your firm grip around her neck as your other hand grabs her hips, opting for a great leverage onto chasing her own high, ravaging her tight pussy like it’s her last. With your harsh onslaughts of ramming thrusts, it wouldn’t take long before she reaches her desired peak, coming closer to the promised land and then letting out series of sultry profanities—

“Fuck—I’m g-gonna c-cum, baby!!”

With the constant pulsation of her cunt, you know her high is approaching a near velocity as you gave her the final thrusts she deserves. Yeji, not minding her orgasm from breaking her apart, wants you to continue ravaging her pussy even though she’s in the ascending state of bliss, so euphoric that she can’t be arsed to think about anything but her orgasmic trance. You do as she says so and god, she’s climaxing hard, multiple streams of her own nectar flowing out around your constantly-ramming length as she screams in delight, further closing herself towards peak gratification.

“I know y-you’re going to cum s-soon—please—ahh, c-cum inside me—oh god, fuck!!”

She knows how close you are as she helps you to reach your own anticipated high, further fucking her scrumptious frame onto your raging length until it’s all too much to handle and you could only succumb onto the inevitable fate of your own orgasm. Releasing the grip around her neck, you gently grabbed her perky mounds and fondled it, making her whimper in need as you bury your entire length in her, filling her up to the hilt with multiple spurts of your creamy mess, painting every inch of her hugging walls white. You groan because of the intense pleasure coursing down your veins, every thrust opting to extend your orgasm as she’s too insatiable for you to stop yet your mind does so, inevitably slowing down your hips as your orgasmic trance is now meeting its demise, and you, utterly enervated and feeling euphoric. You slowly pull out of her as your member is getting flaccid, admiring the mess you’ve made between her snug hole as you feel like you’re in heaven right now and, god, this is splendid.

“You came a lot, baby~” Yeji is in subtle awe as she looks at the cum-filled mess you’ve deposited inside her but then, worry settles in and Yeji being clever, reassures you that everything’s going to be alright.

“You’re fine, baby—I’m safe today…” Yeji then grabs your muscular arms, pulling you into a torrid kiss as she savors the taste of you, making sure that both parties will be elevated into utmost affection and endearment. You then pull out right after as you admire her beautiful visage, every feature making you in awe as she’s the epitome of perfection and you couldn’t ask for more.

“God—I just can’t get enough of you, Yeji…”

“And I can’t, either.” You continue peppering her with kisses as you worship her neck with multiple pecks, making her subtly moan as she voices out her satisfaction with almost-inaudible moans. “You can sleep with me here, for the night—I need to know you more…”

You scoff as you're in utter shock, not knowing that it will end up like this—you may have or have not expected this outcome, to be honest—but nonetheless, you’ll take it. Yeji then gets up from her previous lying position, legs still a little wobbly as you wanted to help but she didn’t insist on it, letting you know that she can do it on her own yet you can hear her voice, calling you out and presenting another proposition.

“Another round in the showers? There’s plenty of room here, baby~”

And maybe you’ll end this stupendous day with another load buried deep inside her cunt—

#kinknuary 2024 #itzy smut #yeji smut #itzy x male reader #yeji x male reader

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mind-empty-just-fictional-people · 7 months

Text

Showed Me (How I Fell In Love With You)

masterlist

summary: dean helps you up your flirting game, but there’s really only one set of eyes you want on you.

paring: dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 2.7k

warnings: language, implied sex/nudity, strands of hair falls on reader’s face

author’s note: you probably already know this but sideblogs (like this one) can now answer comments!! super excited about this update and fingers crossed the next one is for sending asks lol 🤞💞

music: showed me (how i fell in love with you) by madison beer — i was listening to this song and kept imagining dean, idk

Dean always had incredible luck with women. He could go into a bar crowded with guys and walk out with the only woman—the bartender who’d been dodging men all night.

You, on the other hand, could go into that same bar and end up going back to the motel alone. It bothered you; what in the hell were you doing wrong?

So, you did the unthinkable—you asked Dean to help you get better at flirting.

That’s how you ended up here at the bar with Dean; he was showing you how to play pool. You had protested the idea of him “teaching you” something you already knew, but he claimed it was important.

“You’re standing wrong,” he told you when you were about to break.

“Uh, no I’m not?”

“If you’re trying to win the game, you’re doing great. If you’re trying to get your opponent to fuck you, you’re failing miserably.”

“Thanks,” you grumbled.

“Hey, you were the one who asked me for help!” He shrugged. “If you want to back out now-”

“No, I don’t want to back out,” you sighed. “I’m fucking desperate at this point.”

“So, are you gonna do what I say, then?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest.

“Yeah,” you mumbled. “How am I supposed to stand?”

He walked up behind you and put his hands on your hips.

“Stick your butt out a little,” he instructed and you did as he asked. “Alright, now when you bend over,” he moved his hands up and forward, resting them on your lower chest, “you’ll want to point your breasts in the direction of the person you want to attract.”

“What if he’s standing behind me?” you asked.

“Then his eyes are gonna be glued to your ass,” he replied, not getting the message. “If he’s standing behind you then focus more on the actual game, and less on where you’re pointing your boobs. Trust me, though, if he’s standing in front of you, he’s gonna be trying to see down your shirt, now…” he walked back around to the other side of the table. “Bend over, and before you hit the ball, make eye contact with him.”

“Okay…” You bent down and lined up your shot before looking up and into Dean’s eyes.

“Perfect! If you look at him kinda like through your eyelashes, there’s exactly one thing that’s suddenly stuck front and center in his mind.”

“And this works on…all guys?” you asked, still looking at him through your lashes.

“If he was standing where I am and didn’t want to fuck you, he’s either related to you or just not into chicks.”

“Good to know,” you mumbled, mostly to yourself. You were about to start the game but a few strands of hair fell on your face.

“Don’t move,” Dean said before he hurried back to where he had been before and tucked the hair behind your ear for you. “Now, since he’s already thinking about that one thing, is that something you want him to think about even more?”

“Um, yeah,” you said quietly.

“Alright, pout your lips,” he instructed. He moved his hand down from your ear and tugged your lip out a bit. “Perfect, that’s gonna draw his attention to your lips.”

“So, now I start actually playing the game?” you asked, not sure if he had any more pointers for you.

“If you want. Or we can go over to the bar where there are three different guys that have been eyeing you the past ten minutes.”

“Really?” you stood up straight, whipping your head around. You saw the guys he was talking about and they all quickly looked down at the drinks in front of them. “Let’s go to the bar, then.”

“So, now that you know all those guys are interested,” Dean said as you both took your seats at the bar, several stools away from the other people already there, “you need to pick one.”

“Isn’t that the easy part?” you laughed a little.

“Oh no, most guys are monsters.” Dean shook his head, motioning the bartender over with his hand. “What’re you drinking?” he asked, looking at you.

“Just a beer’s fine,” you said, a little confused. Usually when you, Sam, and Dean went out drinking you each ordered your own drinks. Dean took initiative and ordered two beers. “And I know before taking someone back to my room I have to do the usual tests; holy water, iron, and silver.”

“Not those kinda monsters, sweetheart,” Dean said. “The guy on the far right has a little motor home keychain attached to his keys. Given the fact there’s a dilapidated RV parked outside that looks like a serial killer’s lair, I’d say he’s a creep.”

“Well, what about the guy in the middle?” you asked.

“I heard him talking with someone on the phone in the bathroom earlier about the fact his ex-girlfriend doesn’t know she got the clap from him.”

“Dear lord,” you groaned, making a disgusted face. “What’s wrong with the guy on the left?”

“Well, uh…” Dean started, looking at the man you were talking about and trying to find something wrong with him. “Nothing. If he comes over here, I’d say it’s worth a shot.”

“Shouldn’t I go and talk to him?” you asked.

“Oh no! No, no, no! Bar like this, pretty girl like you; he’ll think you’re a hooker.”

“Oh.”

“I mean, unless you wanna make a couple hundred bucks tonight?” he teased, earning a smack to his upper arm. “I’ll take that as a no,” he laughed.

“I’d make at least four-hundred,” you scoffed.

“Look, you’re cute and sweet and guys tend to turn their heads when you walk by them. Now, for your next lesson, take a look around the bar and tell me how many women you see.”

You looked around, counting in your head. “Five, including me and the bartender,” you said.

“And how many guys?”

“I’d say like twenty at least?” you estimated.

“Exactly,” he said. “See, at least half of those guys have their eyes on you. When we were playing pool earlier I guarantee you they’d have done anything to be where I was.”

“So…what’s your point?”

“You’re way above any of these guys’ leagues.” He shrugged. “Which is okay, but you need to know that you’re too good for them, just a fact. They’re spending their Wednesday night in a bar looking for a hookup, you came here to get a drink with your friend. So, like I said, you are in fact way out of their leagues.”

“You really think so?”

“Please tell me you’re joking,” he laughed a little then looked at you and realized you were serious. “Oh dear god, yes! Not only are you fucking gorgeous, you’re smart, funny and a total badass! I mean you killed two vampires this morning!”

“Thanks, Dean.” You smiled.

“Of course,” he replied. “Now, before we head back to the motel is there anything else? You know how to kiss someone, right?”

“Ha, ha!” You smiled sarcastically. “I know how to kiss, Dean. But, I actually do have a question.”

“Shoot!”

“What about…the friend zone?”

“You wanna know how to friend zone a guy?” He furrowed his brows.

“No, how do I get out of the friend zone?”

“Oh.” He nodded. “That’s, um, I’m actually not sure. And I didn’t think you had friends?”

“Again, very funny Dean,” you laughed somewhat sarcastically. “What if I’m good friends with a guy and I really like him, but I’m scared to tell him because I don’t want to lose the friendship?”

“Look, Sam loves you but he doesn’t see you…that way,” he said.

“It’s not Sam, dumbass,” you said. “I have plenty of friends! And there’s this one friend, who’s a guy that I really like. I don’t think he feels the same way, but it’s driving me absolutely crazy that I can’t just tell him.”

“I, uh, I don’t know. I mean, I always think the guy has more to lose if that situation goes south, cause he’ll always be attracted to the girl but she might…get bored with him.”

“But what if the guy doesn’t like me back? What if I tell him and he says ‘gross, you’re like a sister to me’?”

“If he does see you as a sister, he’s not gonna say ‘gross’ when you tell him how you feel?”

“How do you know?”

“Cause I know Sam and he’d be lucky to have a girl like you.”

“It’s not Sam, you moron!” you exclaimed, a little louder than intended.

“…Garth?”

“What if the guy I really like is also really dumb?” you asked.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say Garth is dumb…”

“Oh my god,” you groaned. “Yeah, never mind.” You put your face in your hands for a moment before starting to drink the beer Dean had ordered for you. He watched you with furrowed brows and it felt like an eternity (really it was about sixty seconds) before he suddenly broke the silence.

“Holy shit!” he exclaimed. “Is it…me?”

“I’m sorry,” you said, looking over at him. “I didn’t plan on letting that slip tonight, I swear.”

“But, it is me? You like me?” Dean asked, you nodded. “Oh my fucking god!”

You couldn’t tell if he was happy and you were beginning to really worry.

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly. You turned on your chair to leave but he gripped your upper arm and kept you in place.

“No, don’t—fuck! I feel like I just won the fucking lottery and I just need a second to catch up.”

“Wait, you’re happy? You…You like me too?”

“Oh yeah,” he nodded, “I may be stupid but I’m not an idiot.”

“Well…” you teased.

He rolled his eyes, still smiling; “Just let me kiss you, already,” Dean muttered. He put his hands on your cheeks, stood up off his chair, leaned toward you, and kissed you deeply. His hands moved to your shoulders then down to your lower back as you put your hands on his cheeks.

“Wait,” you mumbled, pulling back slightly.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, you’re incredible! I’m just now realizing how many creepy guys are staring at me.”

“Told ya,” he said, taking a look around the bar.

“Could we, maybe…head to your motel room?” you asked somewhat nervously.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Hundred percent.” You nodded vigorously, looking at his lips then up and into his bright green eyes. “Unless…you don’t want to?”

“Oh I definitely want to, I’ve wanted to since Sam and I picked you up after he left Stanford,” he said.

“And you didn’t say anything? Dean, it’s been like ten years?” You furrowed your brows then noticed he actually seemed a little embarrassed. “For the record, I’ve wanted to kiss you for about twelve.” His eyes widened.

“What? Wow, I guess we’re both a little stupid,” he laughed a little before leaning in for another kiss.

“Excuse me, Winchester?” You quirked a brow, looking at him.

“I mean, you’re smart, so smart,” he rambled a little. “And sexy, so fucking sexy.” He kissed you and you kissed him back, smiling against his mouth. “Let’s get the hell outta here, sweetheart.”

“Mmh, just another minute,” you mumbled, not wanting to stop kissing him.

He pulled away after a moment, both of you smiling.

“My god you’re beautiful.” He smiled, putting a hand on your cheek.

You hopped off the stool but stayed looking into his eyes; “You’re so fuckin’ hot, Dean Winchester,” you mumbled and kissed him again, pulling him down by the collar of his jacket.

He pulled out his wallet and was about to pay for both drinks but you stopped him.

“What’s wrong?”

“If you pay for my drink then this would count as our first date,” you said.

“Huh, I didn’t think of it like that,” he replied. “Alright, we each pay for our own drinks.”

“Exactly.” You nodded and took out your own wallet, each of you leaving a ten on the counter. “Now, shall we go to your motel room?”

“I’m sharing a room with Sammy,” he said.

“My motel room it is.” You pulled him down again and kissed him.

“Lead the way.”

You woke up to the sound of Dean snoring lightly behind you and a smile formed on your lips as you recalled what had happened only a few hours ago. You felt Dean’s arm snake around your waist and he pulled you closer to him.

You assumed he was awake now and you turned to kiss him but he was actually still snoring. The thought that he wanted you closer to him even when he was sleeping made your smile deepen.

A wave of calmness washed over you, followed by an unnerving idea; how serious was Dean when he said he liked you?

Did he think this was a one-and-done situation? Were he and Sam just gonna drive off in that beautiful Impala and leave you to start hunting alone?

You hadn’t hunted alone since re-connecting with the Winchesters back in ‘05. Before that you’d been hunting alone or with Dean while Sam was in college. Before that you’d hunted with your dad, who occasionally worked with John.

You honestly didn’t really remember the first time you met Dean. You were both just kids and you blocked out a lot of your childhood due to the fact you’d been hunting your whole life. (It was actually a similar story to Dean’s—after a monster killed your mom, your dad became obsessed with hunting and seemed to forget he was a father with a four-year-old in the back seat of his pickup truck.)

What you did remember was the first time hunting alone with Dean. You were twenty-two and (finally) not hunting with your dad when you ran into Dean who was also hunting alone. He had recently had some kind of falling out with Sam, who had been at Stanford a couple years already. You remembered how Dean reacted to the fact you were hunting alone.

He was genuinely worried for your safety and insisted he hunt with you for a while. You took him up on the offer and spent a couple months together before parting ways but still staying in touch.

You were drawn back to the present when Dean let out a breath of air as he stirred awake.

“Good morning,” he mumbled, a smile on his full lips when he opened his eyes. He sat up on his elbow and tilted your chin up with his finger. “My god, how are you so beautiful?” You giggled a little before he bent down and kissed you.

He sat up further and slipped an arm under you, bringing you to the center of the bed. He caged you beneath him by putting his hands on either side of you as your hands went into his already ruffled hair. You brought him back down and kissed him again, his left hand moving again and trailing down your side, bringing your bare thigh up to graze his own.

You could tell where things were going so you stopped him, “Dean.”

“Y/n,” he mumbled back.

“Dean, wait,” you said quietly.

“What is it?” he asked, looking down at you.

“How, um, how serious is this?” you asked.

“What?” He furrowed his brows a little.

“Is this a one-night thing?”

“Oh,” he realized. “Um, it can be, if that’s what you want.”

“Is that…what you want?” you asked.

He looked into your eyes and slowly shook his head negatively, your smile returning to your flushed face.

“I was kinda thinking this would be at least a two-night thing,” he said, showing off his adorable smirk and making you roll your eyes a little. He bent down and kissed you. “Maybe a three-night thing.”

“A four-night thing?” you teased.

“I think you’re gonna be stuck with me for a lot longer than that, sweetheart,” he mumbled into your mouth.

“You really think?” you asked, smiling.

“Hate to break it to you, but I’m kinda in love with you.” He stopped kissing you, realizing what he said. “I, uh, I mean, not—fuck, I really am. I’m sorry.”

“Dean,” you interrupted his spiraling, “I’m kinda in love with you too.”

“Oh thank goodness,” he whispered and kissed you again.

#spn #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester comfort #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader #supernatural fluff #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fic #by mind empty just fictional people #by mind empty just fictional people #<- still no clue why these are two different tags #by jean

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dreamescapeswriting · 8 months

Text

Stray Kids Reaction || How You Meet [Mafia Edition]

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - September 2023

⤜MASTERLIST

TW: Mentions of violence and guns

A/N: I had so much fun writing the next lot of reactions, you have no idea!!!

CHAN:

There was something in the air today, something that was fucking up your life and you weren't enjoying it. It was as if the world had looked at you today and decided that it was your turn to have the worst luck in the history of the universe. You'd gotten fired, fallen into the canal, and got an eviction letter all in one day and yet the universe was still throwing curve balls at you since you'd just almost gotten hit by a car.

"Are you okay?!" Your friend questioned as you stood against the brick wall your head resting against the brick as you did your best to calm down your racing heart. The car had been inches away from hitting you until she pulled you away and you would have been dead if she wasn't with you. Your hands were shaking as you tried to take in some deep breaths and steady yourself a little, Your eyes scanned the road as you saw the car that almost barrelled you down pulling into the layby next to you.

"Listen! Creep! If you're going to yell at her for being in the road maybe you should drive like a normal person!" Katarina said before you could stop her, the man stared at her before disregarding her entirely and staring you down. He was almost 6 foot tall, bald and had a giant scar running down the left side of his face,

"Don't stare her down! It might work on other people but Yn here isn't going to back down, we'll sue you! You were driving over the speed limit! We could have you arrested," You put your hand on Katarina's arm trying to get her to cool her jets,

"Leave it, Kat, he didn't hit me." You begged as you shook your head, as soon as this day was over the better. All you wanted to do was go home to bed and sleep it all off like nothing had happened but you wouldn't go back to a bed, you were going back to Kat's sofa bed,

"I won't leave it! He could have killed you!" She yelled out drawing attention from those around you when you heard another car door shut, you glanced in the direction of the car to see a man making his way toward you.

"What do you want?!" Katarina yelled out making a few of the women that were watching the exchange gasp out.

"Are you okay?" The question was directed at you by the man who spoke with an Australian accent, your eyes stuck on him as you took in a small intake of breath. The man was stunning to look at, his eyes felt as though they were piercing into your soul as you stared back at him, slowly nodding.

"Are you sure? It must have scared you." The man stated as he continued to look at you, searching for any sign that you might be lying to him.

"I've told him countless times to drive the speed limit around here but he never listens," He admitted to you, though it was only partially true. When Chan needed to get somewhere he would, he didn't care who was on the roads but after seeing you so scared there was something inside of him that scared him, the aching urge to want to protect you took over his body.

"Y-Yes, fine. Just shook up," You admitted as Kat stared at you, narrowing her eyes at the man and then at you before she smirked a little. It was obvious that you were attracted to the man, though it was lost on Kat as to why since his driver had almost hit you.

"She would be better if you took her for some tea, you know, to make up for your driving almost killing her." Your eyes shot in her direction but she refused to look at you, instead, she chose to stare at the man that was apologising to you,

"Kat!" You hissed out, was she out of her mind? One second she was ready to fist fight the person who had almost hit you and now she was attempting to set you up.

"She's right, I should take you for some tea to steady your nerves. It's the least I can do," Chan said as he watched you, his eyes hadn't left your face since the moment he got out of the car and you swallowed the lump that was forming in your throat.

"Text me when you're done," Kat winks at you, walking away so that you can't decline the offer of tea and you whimper a little.

"I'm Chan, it's lovely to meet you...?" He stated his name so that it wouldn't feel too weird going to get something to drink with a stranger.

"Yn." You told him as he took your hand in his and gently lifted it to his lips, kissing it gently as you felt your body warm at the whole interaction.

MINHO:

You would have to be stupid not to know who the man standing inside of the animal shelter was right now, you'd also have to be stupid to be the one serving him and yet here you were. In fairness, you'd been the only one brave enough to stay and see what Minho could have wanted in a place like this. It wasn't every day the local mafia leader walked into a cat shelter and began looking around for something.

"Could I help Mr Lee?" You quizzed walking toward him and trying to remain as calm as possible. He was alone here, no guards following him, none of his men looking out for him it was just him and it worried you. Was he going to put this place out of business? You hoped not, this was your favourite job ever and you didn't want the cats to have to suffer,

"I'm looking to adopt," He told you without looking at you, instead he was staring into the crate of a sleeping set of kittens.

"They were abandoned a few nights ago, I found them on my way home." You admitted,

"How could anyone ever abandon something as cute as a cat?" He sighed standing up straight and turning around to face you, you smiled up at him warmly and his breath was completely taken away from him. You were beautiful, there was no doubt about it as he stared down at you,

"I do have some older cats though, if you'd prefer some older cats." You suggested, pointing behind you at the countless cages that lined the walls all filled with at least one cat.

"Do you care for them all?" He questioned, taking out his phone and making sure he could have everything that needed to be done, done as soon as possible.

"Yep. I do it with the help of my workers, we want to make sure every cat has someone that would love them in their life," You smiled at yourself, it was something you'd stood by for years and always would stand by.

"What if they don't get adopted by a certain time frame?" You knew what he was asking and you hated it, you'd always hated shelters that took that option.

"They stay, as long as they need." You told him plainly, you stared him down waiting for him to ask you what he was trying to ask you properly.

"You don't..." He swallowed nervously, "You don't kill them?" He questioned and you shook your head, there was no way you could ever cause harm to another animal's life.

"I could never." He nods at you, smiling brightly as he thinks about it all.

"I wish I could take them all." He admitted and you instantly let out a giggle before slapping your hand over your mouth.

"What's so funny?" He arched a brow at you, you seemed so relaxed around him which was something he wasn't entirely used to and he was enjoying it.

"I just wouldn't expect someone of your...profession, to be so fond of cats." He eyed you up a little and let out a small chuckle. If there was anything this interaction was teaching him it was that he wanted to spend more time with you,

"There's a lot you don't know about me."

"I suppose." You shrugged, looking down at the clipboard as you thought about a cat that would be perfect for him. You would have preferred an elder cat go with him rather than kittens, Everyone wanted a kitten but not many people considered caring for older cats.

"Something you could get to know if you really wanted." He told you before your head shot up and you stared at him a little confused as he smirked at you.

"We'll discuss our date once the work is done," He told you before putting his phone away, once he got the confirmation that everything could be done he was ready.

"The work? Our date?" You questioned, completely shocked by both of the things he'd thrown at you.

"I'll take every cat," He said plainly as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

"What? Where would you keep them all? I need to do some background checks, and house checks to make sure everything is okay for the cats." You told him but he shook his head and smiled warmly at you. He knew he would never pass a house inspection and the only answer was for them to stay here,

"They'll stay here and we'll have to make some changes."

"Changes?" You quizzed, following him as he walked through the small room you were single of.

"Yes, if we're going to let cats live here then we're going to turn this into a cattery. A huge place for them to explore, I can have my contractors here earliest by next week."

"But-" You tried to say something but he was already quick on the ball with it.

"I'll pay for everything."

"That's not what-" You were more worried about whether or not you could stay, or your workers. What did all of this even mean?

"You'll keep your job, anyone you want to stay will stay." He told you before you glared at him, he might have scared everyone else but not you.

"Do you have an answer for everything?" You asked snarkily, placing your hands on your hips,

"I don't have an answer about our date." He told you before you eyed him up,

"I won't date my employer."

"Good, because I'm not the employer. You work at the cattery where I just happen to own all of the cats," He smirked at you making your whole body burn,

"You won't give up...Will you?" He shook his head and you sighed, rolling your eyes before agreeing to the date with him. After all, it was just one date. Right?

CHANGBIN:

You clutched the strap on your bag pressing it against your chest, keeping your head down as you walked under the street lights and in plain view of the stores so that if you went missing, someone would see. You were doing everything right, you didn't have earphones in, and you kept yourself aware of your surroundings without looking anyone in the eyes. Living in a dangerous city you knew every rule that there was to keep yourself safe and you were following it all to the T.

"Hey, pretty lady!" Someone yelled from in front of you but you didn't even acknowledge it, you kept moving and ignored the way he called after you.

"Don't fucking ignore me! You're not better than me!" He slurred, clearly drunk and that terrified you even more. Drunk men didn't care about anything but themselves,

"Talk to me!" He yelled out, he was quickly gaining on you and you didn't want to run, if you ran it would ensure a chase and the last thing you wanted was to be sprinting and getting tired. So you headed in the direction of a local bar, the one you worked in and you knew you'd be safe there. It might have been owned by one of the scariest men in the city but it was also the safest place for women...well for everyone. Changbin would make sure everyone who worked there or even entered was protected it was one of the things you admired about the man. You were seconds away from reaching the door but none of the bouncers were on duty right now.

"Don't fucking run away from me!" A hand was clasped around your wrist and you were shoved roughly against the wall, you let out a small high-pitched groan and the man smirked.

"You can't go anywhere now." He told you, leaning down and looking at you as you glared at him. All you had to do was buy some time, you could eventually kick him in the dick and slide into the bar but right now it was a waiting game. Waiting for him to fuck up.

"I suggest you leave her alone before you lose your hand," A voice said from the left of you, your head turned to see Changbin staring at you with a very unimpressed look on his face.

"Leave me and my girlfriend alone," He grumbled but you looked at Changbin with pleading eyes. It was obvious this wasn't your boyfriend,

"Last I checked, Miss Yn here didn't have a boyfriend. In fact, she's due to be on stage in a few minutes." You were a little taken aback. Did he know you? You worked for him sure but that didn't mean he knew the details of your life.

"Who do you think you are?!" The man slurred, and you stared at the side of his head. How did he not know Changbin? That was neither here nor there, you took your opportunity while he was distracted to draw your knee in between his legs as he grunted letting go of you so you sprinted toward Changbin who was smirking at you impressed by you.

"Good move, beautiful." Your body flamed at the compliment coming from Changbin. This was the first time you were officially meeting him, you worked for him but the two of you had never actually spoken until tonight.

"I'll fucking kill you!" The man grunted, standing up straight as he made his way toward you but Changbin grabbed his wrist and within seconds the man's chest was pressed against the wall with his arm pinned between his shoulder blades.

"You owe the lady an apology. You already tested my patience enough tonight." Changbin told him with a small growl in his throat, the thought of someone hurting you drove him wild.

"Fuck. You." The man was released and Changbin let out a cocky smile, looking at you,

"Turn away princess, I don't want you to have to see this." You did as you were told and heard the familiar sound of a gun going off before two men moved to go to Changbin. When it was finally clear for you to turn around Changbin was smiling,

"You have tonight off, let me drive you home." You nodded as he wrapped his jacket around your shoulders and made his way over to the black bently that was waiting for him.

"I'll come and get you every night from now on. I don't want anything to happen to you," He suggested as you got into the car, your eyes on him as you smiled warmly.

"Thank you, Mr. Seo," You sat down and did up the belt as Changbin smiled at you, he was going to woo you and he didn't care how long it was going to take.

"Call me Changbin, please." You nodded and smiled a little, the two of you heading in the direction of your apartment.

HYUNJIN:

Your hands graced along the paint brushes in front of you, You were trying to find some new painting supplies and the brushes you'd purchased last week weren't good for you. The bristles were falling out and staying on your paintings and you needed something better, which was how you'd ended up in one of the most expensive painting supplies shops in the city. From the moment you walked in you could feel eyes on you and it was making you completely uncomfortable, did they think you were going to try and steal from them or something?

"I recommend these." A voice said as he reached out for a boxed set of brushes, your eyes slowly looked up at him and you let out a small gasp. This man was beautiful, truly, You could barely believe your eyes as you stared at him. Seriously, was this man from a painting? You could have sworn people this beautiful only existed in paintings or fictional works.

"They're by my favourite painter and they're perfect for everything. The bristles have minimal fallout, if any, I've never seen any in my work." He told you as you continued to stare at him with your mouth hanging open a little, it was incredible just to look at him. You must have looked insane to anyone watching you so you quickly snapped from your trance,

"Thanks." You smiled looking at the price tag and your face fell a little, there was no way you'd be able to pay for these today or maybe if ever,

"I think I should look somewhere more in my price range though, ₩2M is a little out of my sights." You laughed a little awkwardly and he chuckled a little, they were a little bit on the expensive side but they were certainly worth it.

"How about I get them for you?" He suggested making you laugh a little until you realise he was serious about it.

"Why would you do that? I couldn't pay you back."

"You could, by letting me take you to dinner." You were a little shaken up, a man was offering to buy you expensive brushes and take you out to dinner? Where were the cameras? Because you were pretty sure this was some kind of prank.

"That's very sweet but you don't know me, I don't know you." You shrugged at him, you weren't going to accept a date from someone you didn't know.

"I'm Hyunjin, there...Now you know me." He smiled warmly at you as if this was something he did all of the time and maybe it was, but this wasn't your thing. You didn't date random men from paint stores, nor did you accept gifts from them.

"For all you know, I could be some kind of serial killer." You told him making him laugh as he looked at you,

"Oh, I think I'd know about that," After all, he knew everything and everyone who lived in his city. If there was a killer on the loose he would know about it and you certainly didn't look like the type.

"Mr Hwang, your car is ready." Hyunjin nodded and smiled at the worker,

"Thank you. Please make sure my friend's paintbrushes and anything else she touches, or looks at is paid for by me." The women behind the tills nodded and you shook your head, there was no way.

"What? No." You laughed a little but it was clear he wasn't going to take no as an answer to this,

"I'll see you around," He winks at you smirking as he heads out of the small store and you look at the other workers that were glaring in your direction clearly not happy with how that had transpired.

"Do you even know who that was?" It was obvious by her tone that she was annoyed by you,

"N-No." You stuttered, watching as the man got into the back of a car and disappeared from your sight.

"Hwang Hyunjin. Good luck, he's relentless when he sees something he wants." Before you could ask what she meant she was going toward the back of the store while you looked around nervously.

JISUNG:

The storm wasn't supposed to come for hours yet, you thought you had time to quickly head out and get everything you were going to need for the power cut but clearly not. You were practically Olympic sprinting through the streets trying to find somewhere you could hide out from the lightening. You pushed yourself into a bar and the group of men all stood up and stared at you, your eyes scanned over them all as you waited for them to say something,

"S-Sorry." You coughed out, looking at them all as they all had their hands placed on the waistbands of their pants where there were guns sitting, and your eyes widened. What the fuck had you just walked into?

"Stand down. It's clear the girl is cold and wet." A voice said as you looked around at the men who slowly sat back down and their hands removed from their guns.

"Come in, can I get you a hot drink?" Your eyes landed on the man sitting at the head of the table, dressed in a sharp suit and smiling warmly at you. You knew who he was instantly and now you were starting to regret walking into this bar, you should have braved the storm. There was no way you were going to stay with Han Jisung and his men, you knew better than to try and brave out a mafia leader.

"I'll just head out-" Before you could finish your sentence you let out a scream as the thunder boomed above the bar and the lights shut off.

"Someone put the battery generators on. Make her a hot chocolate," Jisung ordered as he made his way over to you, taking your jacket off and handing it to one of his men who left with it.

"You're soaking, we should get you in some warm clothes," You looked at him as he smiled down at you, you knew who he was and you knew he was a man that wasn't meant to be trusted. A man who you'd heard horror stories about and yet he was being so kind and caring toward you right now.

"I'll be okay," You shook your head, you had no idea why he was being so nice to you and you didn't want to stick around and find out.

"Nonsense. Get her some of my clothes!" He snapped at his men and you stared at him as he sat you down in a booth, the two of you pressed close together and he smiled down at you again.

"I'm Jisung, but judging by your hasty attempt at an exit you knew that," You nodded at him and he chuckled a little shaking his head, he hated that you seemed so scared of him. The rumours about him were harsh and hardly any of them were true.

"I'm Yn...I-I heard you didn't like people bothering you so I didn't want to get into trouble." You stuttered out and a hot chocolate was placed in front of you, Jisung took your hands and placed them around the cup trying to warm you up.

"You could never get in trouble with me, drink up." He told you as you smiled a little, relaxing as he sat back in the seat and waited for his men to come with some warmer clothes for you.

"We'll get you dressed nice and warm and we can have another talk," He suggested as you nodded, thanking him for the drink in front of you and trying not to get too nervous about him or the storm that was still happening.

FELIX:

Your eyes scanned around the room as you tried to figure out why you'd been called into the office of your CEO and why you were left alone without someone watching you. All you knew was that there was a very huge man waiting at your desk this morning asking for you to follow him and now you were inside of the CEO's office bouncing your leg nervously. There was no escape, Goliath was manning the door from outside and even if you somehow got passed him there were over 50 flights of stairs to get down.

"Ah! Miss YLN, lovely to see you." Your eyes landed on your boss who had a giant smile on his face and it made you more nervous. You did everything within your power to stay hidden inside of your job, you did everything mediocre so there was no chance of getting noticed, no chance of being seen and brought up to the office. Clearly, that plan had failed you.

"Mr Russo, it's nice to see you. But, could I please ask why I'm here?" You swallowed the lump in your throat but before Dante Russo could answer you the door opened and shut again,

"Good luck," Dante whispered before practically sprinting out of the room and leaving you alone with the man who had just walked in and you knew exactly why you were there.

"Yn, I've heard a lot about you," Felix said as he smiled at you, your whole body was suddenly burning as you stared at him.

"Mr Lee." You said as you got up from the chair and shuffled your back toward the desk. If you weren't nervous before you certainly were now and with good reason. Last week you broke into Felix's bank account and you thought you'd done it successfully and undetected but you were wrong.

"Don't look so scared. I just want to talk to you." He suggested as he walked around the desk and took a seat in your boss's chair, you were quick to sit back down and watch him. Maybe it was possible he didn't know about the money. There was so much of it in the account you could be sure he wouldn't know the exact amount anyway,

"What can I do for you?" You quizzed as he looked at you, smirking a little. He enjoyed that you were trying your best to stay confident given the situation,

"What did you do with the money? I assume you didn't keep it since you still work here," Your breath caught in your throat and you eyed him up. He looked back at you, giving you no indication that he was angry or even annoyed at you for it and there was no use lying to him.

"I gave it to people more in need of it." You shrugged trying to play it off as though your heart wasn't ready to leap from your chest and run away.

"Hmm, smart." He smiled a little and let out a small sigh, something had to be done but he wasn't here to punish you. Far from it, he knew that the hacking into his system was easy and you'd been one of the best hackers so far. Hardly left a trace, the only reason you were even caught was because of the pattern of hacking, Every hacker had a signature and yours was all over his bank account.

"I don't regret it. I'd do it again in a heartbeat, your security system sucks." If you were going to get killed for breaking in you were at least going to tell him the truth.

"Which is why I'm hiring you to fix it." He said plainly,

"And another thing- What?" You stared at him completely dumbfounded and he let out a laugh,

"You're one of the best, I want to get you to fix it. Fix every computer issue I have and we'll forgive this little...impass." He told you as your mouth fell open a little.

"Work for you?" You weren't sure if this was some kind of trap to lure you into a false sense of security so he could kill you or not.

"You'll be handsomely paid." He shrugged but you were still a little confused as to why he would hire someone that stole from him.

"You're offering me a job? I thought you'd kill me."

"You took less than most would have and not for selfish reasons...I'll hire you, but if anything else goes missing I won't be so lenient. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Sir." You nodded as his smile grew larger, it was going to be a pleasure doing business with you.

"Perfect, let's head to my car then," He smiled as he waited for you to stand and leave with him.

SEUNGMIN:

"Everyone out!" Someone bellowed before a gunshot sounded making people scream out. You clutched onto the dress you'd been trying on inside of the changing room and slid down the wall. What the fuck was going on?

"Now!" Another voice screamed, you grabbed your bag trying to search through it for your phone when the curtain was pulled back and a gun was aimed at you. Your phone dropped to the floor, shattering instantly as you bit down on your lip,

"Didn't you hear me? Out!" You looked at the man who continued to aim a gun at you, there was no way you could leave. The dress wasn't done up meaning your back was bare for everyone and if you tried to go outside there was a chance your breasts would be out for anyone to see.

"I'm barely dressed, p-please...Just let me get changed." You hated that you were begging but you weren't about to walk into the streets in a dress that wasn't done up and showed off your cleavage.

"No." He grumbled at you before a hand was placed on his shoulder.

"John!" A voice screamed from behind the man in front of you,

"Allow the lady to get dressed." Your eyes looked behind the giant man in front of you to see Kim Seungmin standing there. You'd heard stories about him, but you'd never seen him in person.

"Are you okay? Did he scare you?" He questioned, pushing the man out of the way and holding out a hand for you to take, you carefully took it and stood up. Your eyes stared into Seungmins as you tried to find the words to speak but you couldn't, you were too stunned by how handsome he was. The photos didn't do him any justice.

"Miss?" He questioned again once he realised you hadn't answered him.

"O-Oh...I'm okay," You stuttered looking down at the floor, kicking yourself for looking like a fool in front of him.

"You look very beautiful. Did you finish trying the dress on before you were interrupted?" Your eyes met with his once more and you shook your head,

"Spin for me," He spoke softly and you nodded, holding the fabric tightly against your chest as you turned around. One of Seungmin's hands came to rest on your hip while the other did the zip on the back of the dress until it was completely secure. Your whole body tingled and you could have sworn every hair on your body stood to attention as you caught his gaze in the mirror.

"It's stunning, this colour suits your skin tone beautifully." He told you as you nodded at him a little shy about what to say in response to him,

"Where will you be wearing this?" He quizzed, interested to know if it was a date you were preparing for or if he had a chance to take you out on it himself.

"Erm...I have a charity event I'm attending this week." He nods at you,

"Perfect, you'll be the most beautiful woman there." He told you before looking at the cashier,

"I'll be buying this for the young lady and anything else she'd tried on before."

"But-" You couldn't protest him as he smiled, holding your hand in his.

"Please, it's my way of saying sorry for our rude interruption. There was no need for my men to burst inside," You nodded at him and he ran his hand over your cheek a little.

"Save me a dance at the event," He whispered before leaving you staring at the place where he had once been standing, your mouth falling open again as you thought about it all.

JEONGIN:

"This is outrageous! I demand to know who thinks they can just walk in here and buy this place right from under me!" You slammed your hands on your desk and stared at the two brutes who had walked into your office carrying three briefcases and telling you that they were buying you out.

"Our boss would like to remain private." The shortest one said as you smirked cockily at him, There was no way you were going to lose this place. You weren't in any money troubles, the hotel was doing better than you could have expected it to after you bought it from your uncle.

"And I like to have my hotel remain in my ownership. Either you bring your pussy of a boss in here or you leave with bullet holes in your head." You took the gun from your top drawer and placed it on the desk to let them know that you were serious. You weren't a killer, but it was always nice to put on a front to anyone who thought that they could mess with you.

"I'm not a pussy, they just like to screen my business opportunities before I come in." Your eyes landed on the man standing in the doorway and you instantly regretted getting the gun out. Yang Jeongin. Never in a million years did you think he would be standing in your office.

"Mr Yang." You didn't let yourself stutter, you weren't going to show weakness in front of him.

"Out. Both of you." He snapped as the two men left the room leaving you and Jeongin alone, he made his way over to your mini bar and poured himself a drink,

"Your hotel is lovely and what my two men didn't explain is that I won't be buying it out from under you. I want to go into business with you," You eyed him up, why would someone who owns half of the city want your hotel. It was a skipping stone in his ocean,

"This place isn't worth that much. It's nothing."

"Ah, but it's everything. It's my favourite place to stay," You looked at him, you'd never have him stay with you. You would have known about it since you checked almost every standing account that you have on record. The only time you knew Jeongin had stayed was years and years ago,

"My father stayed when your uncle owned this, I remember playing in the foyer as a child. If I recall I played with a lovely young lady too and we were the best of friends."

"You remember that?" You were a little stunned. You hadn't expected him to remember someone as small on the scale as you. The two of you had been allowed to play together since his father stayed so often and you always hung out together since you were always here.

"I remember everything," He sat down in the chair that was in front of your desk and smiled.

"Now I would be happy to negotiate the price and details with you." He told you as he relaxed in the seat, taking a sip of the bourbon he'd poured for himself.

"Lovely, let's start." You took out a pen and a pad of paper ready to hash this all out with him but he chuckled and shook his head. He wasn't going to do business here, he wanted to wine and dine you first.

"Over dinner. Let me take you out."

"Jeognin." You rolled your eyes, ever since you were kids he'd had a crush on you and it was obvious it had stayed with him growing up.

"I do business better with food." You sighed at him but nodded your head, you knew he would only continue to ask until you agreed and free food was harmless.

"Fine. I'm free tonight. You can pick me up from here."

Tagline: @chiisaiblog @hanasonmi @sw33tnight @taestannie @acciocriativity @scarletemeterio @halesandy @aerastus @laylasbunbunny @critssq @lenfilms @btsiguess-kpop @meowmeowisdaname @imafivestarkpopstan @lost-leopard-beanie @djeniryuu @backintomykpopphaseagain @choisoorin

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bby-deerling · 1 month

Note

Can you do a Headcanon about how they flirt with you 🫶🥰 with Law, Kid, Killer and Zoro

hehe sure, nonny! <3

flirting with you

ft. law, kid, killer, zoro (kid and killer's are a bit suggestive!)

masterlist || commissions

zoro

he thinks he's being obvious when he purposely seeks you out, moving the location of his workouts near you so that you can spend quality time together while he trains. being near you, talking to you while he lifts that ridiculously big weight over his head, it all puts him on cloud nine.

however, once he realizes his actions could probably be misconstrued as simply getting to know you better, he gets a bit more blatant, seeking you out to take naps with him. at first he's content with you leaning against him, but he eventually gets bolder and uses the opportunity to "accidentally" end up holding you close to him.

he also loves to tease you; it's not malicious like the way he picks on sanji, but he can't help himself from bantering with you sometimes, especially if he catches you staring at him or sees your cheeks turning pink from his words.

kid

he does not beat around the bush. if eustass kid likes you, you will know. the lines he uses on you are somehow both ridiculously corny and shockingly crude. there's no reading between the lines; grasping for straws for any kind of platonic explanation leaves you coming up empty.

he is also relentless. unless you scream in his face and tell him you're not interested, under any circumstances, he sees you playing hard to get as part of the fun. he's rough around the edges, and likes a partner who can go back and forth with him and hold their own—as long as they eventually fold for him.

if you flirt back with him, he's bold enough to get touchy, no matter where you are. kid doesn't hesitate to pull you into his lap or nip lightly at your neck, even if there's dozens of eyes glued to the two of you.

killer

he is much more polite than his best friend. it's a bit hard to tell that he's interested due to not being able to see his face, but the way his voice softens when he talks to you is a dead giveaway.

he intently listens to whatever you have to say, and gets completely captivated by the conversation you're having; eventually, he ends up letting his hand drift and absentmindedly reach over to hold yours, carrying on as if nothing had changed.

as the night goes on, he'll get a bit bolder and wrap his arm around you, running his broad hands up and down your forearm as he holds you close; the two of you continue talking, but he gets more intimate with it and ends up murmuring things in your ear until both of you drop the pretense and head towards somewhere a bit more private.

law

he gives you special little privileges, hoping you'll take him up on them and choose to spend time with him. he leaves his office door cracked open, and tells you, and only you, that it's a sign that he's available to talk. when you end up slipping through the door and joining him, he's over the moon, but also very nervous. he's trying his best! he just wants to be perfect for you! he also shows you a little bit of favoritism, and purposely doesn't assign you the chores that you hate doing.

when the polar tang docks on a peaceful island, he brings you with him when exploring their new destination. he always says it's just luck of the draw, but after a while it becomes blatant that he wants you by his side. he'll often diverge from your current task to get coffee, or check out a used book store—he acts as if stops at these destinations are straying from his plans, but truthfully, he picked these places out before he even left the submarine.

once the two of you grow closer, he brings you all kinds of little thoughtful gifts and trinkets; he's always thinking of you, more than you know. he can't quite find the words to say it, so he's resolved himself to showing you instead.

#one piece x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #eustass kid x reader #eustass kidd x reader #massacre soldier killer x reader #killer x reader #law x you #zoro x you #eustass kid x you #one piece headcanons #one piece fanfiction

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polaroidpascal · 2 months

Text

paradise city || joel miller

AO3 || MASTERLIST || FREE PALESTINE

pairing : guitarist!joel x f!reader

summary : when you and your friends go out to a bar to see a local band gig, you can’t help but notice how the guitarist’s eyes somehow keep finding you in the crowd.

tags : M-18+, no use of y/n, no outbreak AU, i imagine joel is in his early 40s, no age gap mentioned, mention of reader’s breakup, mentions of alcohol consumption, joel starts off a little shy but truly there ain’t nothing shy about this man, size kink (kinda?? a little bit??) oral (f! and m! receiving), unprotected p in v sex, dom!joel, joel gets a little possessive (you’ll see what i mean…), praise kink, squirting, multiple orgasms, creampie, aftercare ofc

fic playlist : https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0afpHjoOFylI01OTbV5jol (picture joel playing during the guitar solos in every single one of these songs 😁)

WC : 7.9k… (no one look at me. not a single soul.)

a/n : 100 FOLLOWER SPECIAL !! i apologize in advance for all the song lyrics i’ve scattered in this fic… i opted to make a playlist of the songs i think joel’s band would play but there were just too many good ones to pass up and i was losing it a little bit 🫠 also, shoutout to @joelsdagger for constantly yapping with me about this idea and letting me tease her about this absolute menace of a man and also @haileymorelikestupid for beta reading for me 🥹😭 it feels extremely fitting to post a joel fic on international women’s day where he fucks you so good, so i hope y’all enjoy !! <3

You and your friends have had a week.

Deciding you all needed a night to let loose and have fun together, your friend Erica found out about this place hosting a local rock cover band called Fetters Whiskey and thought it might be nice to come see them.

Earlier, you had all piled into the Uber and were headed out, a low girly chatter filling the car. The three in the back harped on about their spouses and all the little things that annoyed them.

“He left the dishes in the drying rack!” “She helped me clean a little too well and used all the cleaner, now we’re all out!”

The complaining did help them destress a bit.

You and Erica were in the second row captain’s chairs of the car, the three in the back doing their pregame de-stressing. “Makes you rethink the whole marriage fantasy, huh?” she jokes, looking over at you playing with the rings on your fingers.

You look up and breathe a laugh. “Yeah, I guess so,” you say with a weak smile.

“Well… have you had any luck finding anyone?” she asks sweetly, sincerely. Genuinely hoping someone has caught your eye.

You had a pretty nasty breakup a while ago, probably about eight months by now. You two had been dating for a while and the breakup honestly seemed to come out of nowhere, like some switch flipped one day and nothing was really the same. Your friends stuck by you through every up and down you had. You felt really lucky to have them.

“No. not yet,” you tell her.

“Well, maybe tonight’s your night,” she says with a friendly smile. “You deserve to unwind and let loose a little, y’know what I mean?” You breathe another laugh. “You do!” she exclaims, hitting your shoulder.

“Yeah, well, I guess we’ll see,” you say, the rest of the car ride seeming to fly by, a part of you kinda hoping she’s right.

The bar is crowded.

You walk in, snaking the group between the crowd and making your way near the stage towards the back of the bar, men and women alike all brushing bodies the closer you get to the stage, drinks in hand, friends chattering away, everyone waiting for the show.

Two of your coworkers disappear to fetch everyone a drink while you and the others stake claim on a little area near the stage. A couple of guys are on the stage setting up the instruments and making sure everything is plugged in right, the lights dimmed enough to not really draw much attention to them. It’s not long before the others join them on stage and start playing. The girls return just in time, handing out the drinks as the music starts.

The band is pretty good (you’re not sure what you were expecting, but you’re more than pleased with how good they sound). They play some fan favorites like Wanted Dead or Alive and I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll, and they mix in some random fun songs like Play That Funky Music.

The drummer is clearly in his own world, head moving at a velocity you would think could give him whiplash. And he’s absolutely killing it, hitting every beat with fervor. You can feel the strikes of the sticks on his drums in the center of your chest.

Another guy seems to be the swiss army knife musician: pretty good at almost everything, filling in wherever he’s needed depending on the song. One minute, he’s playing his keyboard and the next, he’s busting out a trumpet, and the next, he’s busting out a guitar. And no matter what he’s playing, he’s playing it with passion.

The lead singer clearly loves all of the attention he gets. He’s feeding off the crowd’s energy like a cat lounging in the sunlight, basking in every cheer and whistle and fist pumping in the air from the crowd. He practically lives at the edge of the stage, crouching down to sing with the girls but backing up to sing and dance with his bandmates too, bringing them in on some of the harmonies and tying the whole show together.

But by far the unsung hero of this group is the lead guitarist. He hides off to the corner, leg posted up on his amp with the body of his guitar resting slightly on his thigh. He looks down at the instrument carefully watching his fingers strum each cord perfectly, furrowing his brow in concentration during his solos and lifting his head up to the sky. He looks like he feels every note in his blood, expressing it through the expert strum of his fingertips on the strings. He doesn’t have a mic and the singer doesn’t make him sing alongside him very much, but you catch him mouthing all the words and getting into the singing as well.

He’s a particularly pretty man and your eyes linger on him more than the others, always finding their way back to him, and always during the more raunchy lines of the different songs…

Well, I am imagining // A dark lit place // Or your place on my place

I’ma paint his town red // Then paint his wife white

But I got both hands on the wheel while you got both hands on my gears // By now, no doubt we’re heading south // I guess nobody ever taught her not to speak with a full mouth

…but who can blame you when he has such a reserved, cool vibe. Plus, did you mention that he’s really pretty too?

And maybe it’s the couple of drinks getting to you more than you thought, or maybe you’re just crazy, but it seems like every time you look at him, he’s looking away from you. Like he’d been staring and you caught him. You swear he starts to look ever so slightly more flushed, but it’s practically impossible to see with the colored lights flooding the scene. No, you think, that’s crazy. You’re standing in a crowd of people, there’s no way he—

“Hey, I think the guy on lead guitar keeps checking you out!” Erica exclaims over the loud music and singing crowd.

You turn and look at her, eyebrows raised before you turn back to the stage. He does it again, averting his gaze the second he sees you look and you feel a flutter in your chest. He really is checking me out, huh?

You keep staring at him, waiting for him to look back in hopes that you’re looking away. When he lets his eyes wander back to you, you’re still staring. This time, though, he doesn’t look away. His eyes won’t let him now that you’ve caught his attention — like a fly in a spider web.

He turns his body ever so slightly, facing your direction more than anyone else as he plays the rest of the song. The lights focus on him, colorful spotlights of red and blue illuminating his face as he positively shreds his guitar solo. His fingers expertly tap dance across the neck of his guitar, his other hand working double time to strum on beat and hit every single note. You watch in a complete daze as he finishes, sealing off his musical escapade with the smuggest wink right to you.

He put on a show. All just for you.

Something stirs in your belly, a low heat kindling as the band continues to play. Their next song — god, their next song… — really puts the icing on the cake.

The jack of all trades band member busts out a sound board, the sampled sound of a snare drum filling the space, a warped, funky-sounding instrumental following.

You let me violate you // You let me desecrate you // You let me penetrate you // You let me complicate you

The guitarist shares a mic with the guy on the sound board, offering back-up vocals for the song. He’s getting a little bold now, you think.

I broke apart my insides // (Help me) I’ve got no soul to sell // (Help me) the only thing that works for me // Help me get away from myself

He’s locked eyes with you the whole time, changing the tides of who is winning this staring battle for dominance. Each second his gaze stays on you, you feel smaller and smaller, completely at his mercy. He backs away from the mic, preparing to play and licking his lips in a manner obviously made to make you even dizzier than you already are.

I wanna fuck you like an animal // I wanna feel you from the inside // I wanna fuck you like an animal // My whole existence is flawed // You get me closer to God

He glances back at you from his guitar, a smirk decorating his face before he turns to keep playing the song. You’re in a complete daze. He’s clearly won this battle, and you don’t even know what to do with yourself anymore.

You have to have this man.

Erica caught a some of his little show for you, watching him wink at you and the way your features fell to a focused stare at him. “Girl, get a room next time!” she teases and all you can do is smile back.

When the set is over, you and your friends walk back towards the bar, not wanting to leave just yet. You claim a few of the tiny standing tables, again gathered with Erica at one while the other girls try to cluster around another.

“So…” she starts, giving you a look of anticipation.

“So…?”

“What the hell was going on between you and that guitarist?” she asks, her tone of voice high with excitement.

You laugh, looking down and shrugging your shoulders. “I honestly have no idea,” you say, shaking your head and blushing a little thinking about his little performance. “I thought I was crazy until you said something.”

“Well, whatever it was, you should go for him!” she encourages.

“Please,” you scoff and laugh, “you’re ridiculous.”

“No, I’m serious! While you were having your little… whatever you were having, I was watching the whole band, and the other guys weren’t doing what he did. And he didn’t look at anyone else the way he looked at you.”

You stare at her, a blush creeping up on your cheeks and that small fire in your belly growing a little bigger, a little hotter.

Erica looks up over your shoulder, “Oh my gosh, there they are!”

As if on cue, the band walks through one of the back doors. Having just put away their instruments and whatever other equipment they brought. They saunter in, hair wet from the sweat of performing and lifting all their stuff back into their van. Trailing behind the rest is that damn guitarist. He scans the crowd before he sees you, his expression opening with a bit of an urgency as he quickly finds the bar to grab a beer.

You turn back to Erica, mouth dry and nervous. “Please, you have to go talk to him,” she practically begs.

“No, I- I can’t. I don’t even know what to say,” you plead. “I’m so out of practice.”

“Oh, quit it. I saw you looking at him first. You had him going before he got bold with you. You still have game, go get that man!” she says.

“I don’t know, Erica—” you start, but youre quickly caught off by a tap to your shoulder. You turn around and it’s him.

“Hi,” you say, desperately trying to hide the nerves threatening your vocal chords and smile genuinely at him.

“Hi there,” he says. God, his voice is so deep. You couldn’t hear it in all of its beauty before, but it has a bass to it that rumbles in your bones.

You stare blankly at him for a second before you finally pipe up, “Um, that was a good set you guys played.”

“Thank you,” he chuckles, looking down at his beer and leaning against the edge of the table.

Erica watches with wide eyes before announcing, “Well, I’m empty. I’m gonna go get a refill, okay?” She winks as she walks away leaving you and this mysterious guitarist alone together.

You turn your gaze back to him and fully take in his features now. His eyes have their own glow to them that persists even with the dim stage lights littered around this bar. His hair is patchy from sweat but still sits pretty. His strong features demand your eyes and you’re unable to look anywhere but him.

He extends his hand out to you, “Name’s Joel.”

“Hi, Joel,” you say, shaking his hand and telling him your name. He echoes it and it sounds beautiful off his tongue. “Listen, I--”

“Y’know, you’ve got one of those faces that stands out in a crowd, anyone ever told you that?”

You shake your head, “No, not necessarily.”

“Well trust me, we’ve played our share of shows and none of them had a pretty girl like you in the audience catchin’ my eye every two seconds.”

You blush, starting to gather your mind back from the sudden thrust into a conversation with who you think might be the prettiest man you’ve ever seen in your life now that you’ve had time to really study his features up close. “You’re no different yourself,” you offer.

“How so?”

“I’m just saying, you’d think the prettiest member would be the one front and center, not tucked in a corner by an amp.”

His eyes bounce back and forth between your own not breaking contact as he takes another sip of his beer. “I don’t want just anyone lookin’ my way, I guess. You gotta work to see this pretty face.”

“Pretty, indeed,” you agree, stepping ever so slightly closer to him. “You put on quite a show up there.”

He leans down just a bit, closing the gap between the two of you even more, “Well, I did have quite the eager audience, didn’t I?” he asks.

You stare at each other for a moment before Joel starts, never breaking eye contact, “Listen, I don’t really do this… but I also don’t get distracted like I did tonight…”

You inch closer to him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah… your friends bring you here?” he asks and you glance at the other table where Erica lingers around your other friends and they’re all looking your way, trying not to be obvious and failing miserably.

“No, we took an Uber.”

“Well, what do you say to savin’ that money you’d pay for an Uber and lettin’ me take you home instead?”

Am I really gonna do this?, you think. Call it a gut feeling or whatever you may want, but the way Joel is looking at you, the way he put on a show just for you, how he spotted you in the crowd to strike up a conversation… Erica did say I need to unwind and let loose…

You grin back at him, “Whose home are we talking about?” you ask.

“I think you know, darlin’,” his tone drops low and deep.

A shiver runs up your spine, that ever-growing fire in your belly burning hotter and hotter. “Come on,” he says, taking your hand in his, making it look miniscule in comparison, and walks you towards the back door he came through earlier. You glance back to the bar, the girls still watching and Erica flashing you a smile and a thumb’s up.

Joel leads you to his truck, opening the passenger door for you. You see the backseat loaded with what must be his personal equipment before his door creaks open and he sits inside, the whole truck bobbing from the sheer size of this man.

He pulls you closer across the bench seat until your legs are touching, his hand snaking around your waist as you relax against his figure and his hands trace your sides.

“I meant what I said, y’know. That you stand out in a crowd.”

You turn to look at him as he quickly glances at you and you slowly bring your arms up, one landing behind his neck while the other cups his face. You slowly, softly, tenderly kiss the spot where his jaw meets his neck leaving open mouth kisses all over. He tilts his head to the side just a little, humming at the feeling and settling his hand right at the swell of your hip, pulling you even closer into his side and squeezing just a bit.

The drive isn’t long at all. He pulls into a parking spot lining the side of the road and once the car is safely in park, he grabs your face with both hands, kissing you deeply. You hum into his mouth, not expecting the sudden movement, and melt into his lips. His soft, warm lips. Your hands trace his body, the two of you unable to get where you want to be from sitting in this truck.

You pull away from him. “Take me inside.”

He immediately leaves the truck urging you to hop out on his side, offering a hand to help you out but not letting go even typing the code for his apartment and after you walk through the door.

You giggle as he pulls you up the stairs of his complex, the two of you itching to have your hands all over one another. You reach the top and he twirls you around in his grip, grabbing you with one hand by the hip and the other cradling the back of your head. He kisses you with an insatiable hunger, like his life absolutely depends on it, as he backs you up until you’re pinned to the door with his entire body pressed against you.

He fumbles with his keys for the lock to his apartment door, lips locked onto you, eyes closed, lost in the soft sweetness of your lips. He snakes a hand behind the curve of your back to brace you as the door swings open and he pushes you inside.

Your hands tangle in his hair grabbing the soft, damp strands unable to pull him any closer but wanting every inch of him in your mouth, on your lips, practically in your skin. You bite his lower lip making him moan a little into your mouth and your hands reach around to his face, wanting to stay lost in the ocean of his tongue and cheeks forever.

He pulls you back and you whine, already missing the warmth and taste of his tongue, but your disappointment is short lived. “God, darlin’… Need to have you.” he says, voice low and completely feral as he grabs you under the swell of your ass and you jump into his embrace. Your hands wander back up to his hair, pulling and grabbing as he trails his kisses down your chin, your jaw, your neck, soft sounds escaping his lips with every tug and whimper you give him.

His legs mindlessly take him to his bedroom, knowing the pathway instinctively. His mouth leaves your body for just a moment when plops you down at the edge of the bed, but he’s right back on you in an instant, reaching down to the hem of your top. You lift your arms for him to pull it off and he removes it in one fluid motion. He moves his hands to the clasp of your bra next. “This okay?”

Your chest aches with these little moments of tender sweetness from him and you nod, letting him remove your bra and he does so with skill, not fumbling for even a second as he tosses it to the floor.

His eyes immediately dart down, taking you in. He’s all but drooling, his gaze burning hot against your skin. He sinks to his knees taking one tit in his mouth and sucking on your nipple. Your hands immediately run through his hair holding him onto you and humming at the feel of his mouth on you. His other hand grabs your other tit, massaging it and thumbing your growing bud before redirecting his mouth to the other side too.

His hands drop to your sides and run up along your ribcage trailing towards your back, closing you in and burying his face into your neck peppering kisses and licks and nips there.

“I gotta have you, baby…” he mutters into your neck. “Lay back on my pillows up there.”

You do as you’re told, lounging against his pillows and the headboard of the bed as he pulls his shirt off over his head and crawls up to meet you, hooking his hands in the belt loops of your jeans. He looks up, his gaze silently asking for permission and you nod. He pulls them down along with your panties in one smooth motion.

You didn’t think about how worked up you had gotten until your hot core, slick with your arousal, meets the cool air of the room sending a chill across your skin. You watch as Joel’s eyes widen slightly at the sight of you, subconsciously licking his lips and softly grunting at the thought of diving in.

You open your legs wider, inviting him in and he settles between your legs, his arms hooking under your thighs locking you right where he wants you, all spread and open for him.

He immediately gets to work, unable to hold back anymore and expertly licks through your folds. His warm, wet tongue feels amazing on you as it dances across every nerve ending down there, each one sending fireworks across your skin. You whine and lean back, lifting your hips up to meet his mouth and squirming under his face.

His hands gently rub your thighs while he drinks you down, his nose occasionally hitting your clit making you whine. He draws flattened circles with his tongue, the surface area hitting you just right.

“Yes… fuck yes, that feels so good…” you moan.

He moans back, unwilling to leave you for even a moment and he keeps going. One hand falls from your thigh and you keep yourself open for him as best as you can when you feel his thick, calloused fingers teasing your entrance. He slides his middle finger in easily, so he adds his ring finger too, curling up and finding the softest parts of you. But God, are his fingers huge.

Your walls constrict squeezing his fingers and you leak more slick all over his palm. His other fingers flay across your lips and ass, gripping you slightly and he’s got you locked down.

His tongue continues at your clit while his fingers pump in and out of you, the tips curling up and stroking you perfectly.

“Right there, Joel… right there… don’t stop… please, don’t stop…” You feel yourself getting closer and closer, the flame burning in your belly all night erupting into a wildfire and igniting every inch of your skin. You feel a tightness start to grow in your belly, inching down your insides as he keeps going, and going, and going, never letting up and reveling in each twitch of your body.

You look up and see him lying flat, his hips subconsciously moving against his boxers and jeans and sheets, getting himself off just from your taste. Finally, he opens his eyes, dark with lust and locks his gaze with you with one especially deep push and curl of his fingers and another wink. That fucking wink.

“Fuck… fuck…!” It sends you over the edge. The coil snaps and a warm flood fills your body spilling out onto Joel’s hand and into his waiting mouth. He grunts and whines, his tongue never stopping, not even for a second, as he drinks every ounce of your slick getting drunk on your juices.

He only pulls away when you pull him off by his hair, a single line if your arousal still connecting him to you and a groan leaving his lips as he lets you go. You fall back onto the pillow, legs collapsing from their own weight and twitching from your orgasm, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath.

Joel sits up licking his palm and bringing his fingers up to your mouth, jaw slacked and panting. Your mouth closes around his fingers and he groans, “That’s it, good girl,” he coos and you hum around his digits.

When you fully come back down to Earth, you can’t help but chuckle in the afterglow of your orgasm. Joel rests on his heels gently stroking your knees and you cover your eyes with your forearm, one big sigh leaving your lips. “I guess I should have expected a guitar player to have some skilled fingers,” you joke and Joel chuckles. “That was so fucking good.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not done with you just yet, pretty girl,” Joel teases, holding out his hand to help you sit up. You do and he meets you with a sweet kiss, his hands cupping almost all of your face as he kisses you sweetly.

When he pulls away and you open your eyes, you notice another amp sitting in the corner of the room. This one looks old, unused, and the cable management could use some work, to say the least.

Joel follows your eyeline. “Whatcha lookin’ at?”

“That’s a lot of cables for a little speaker like that,” you say, following the tangled mess of wires scattered on the floor. “Why don’t you use that one?”

“Jus’ got old. Bought a new one and I didnt need it anymore.”

A depraved idea pops in your head and the question leaves your lips before you can even fully think it through. “Those wires… how strong do you think they are?”

Joel looks back at your face, eyebrow cocked up slightly, “What d'ya mean?”

Your bashfulness catches up quick, a shy blush pricking your cheeks. “I mean… just the outside looks braided, almost… it kinda looks like… I don’t know, kinda like a rope…”

His face softens, a look of intrigue spreading across his gaze. “Go on,” he says, his voice dropping impossibly low, dripping with sultry tease.

You look up through your lashes feeling more vulnerable that you have to ask specifically (he seems to love it, though). “Well… I guess, how well do you think they’d hold a knot…?”

He bites back a smirk but can’t quite hide his excitement. “Kinky…” he says with a little nod. “I like it.”

He rises from the bed but he doesn’t turn to grab the wires. Instead, he reaches for his belt, the buckle clinking against itself. “But you gotta earn it first, sweet girl.” He pulls his belt out of the loops of his jeans and tosses it to the side.

He pauses a second before reaching for the button and zipper, enough time for you to crawl to the foot of the bed and rest your hands on his. You slowly move them away and take over, undoing his button and slowly zipping his pants apart.

You reach under his groin cupping his covered balls in your hand and he hums. He barely fits in your palm and you salivate at what could be beneath those boxers of his. You look up at him with another gentle squeeze before pulling both down, his cock springing out and up against his lower tummy as he steps out of his pants, the tip already red and leaking.

Your eyes widen when you really take in his size and you salivate. You wrap your hand around him and very slowly pump his length, getting a feel for his size and weight and staring at him the whole time.

He looks down at you, eyes still dark and mouth slightly open. “Go ‘head, baby. Kiss it.”

You feel a flutter in your belly again already and you do as he says, kissing the slit before taking the whole head into your mouth and circling your tongue around it. His eyes roll back and he lifts his head up to the ceiling with a groan, his hand tangling in the hair at the back of your head.

You slowly take him inch by inch making him slick with your spit and using your hand to pump whatever you cant reach. Your other hand gently squeezes his balls and you feel his grip on your hair tighten a bit.

“That’s it, baby… Mouth feels so good f’me…” He starts to slowly push you down his length, taking him deeper and deeper and being careful not to get ahead of himself.

But then you moan around his length sending lightning up his spine and it feels so fucking good… A guttural groan booms from his chest and he starts to slip, pushing you a little too far a little too fast and you gag, pulling off until it just rests on your bottom lip, spit gathering at his tip and spilling over the corners of your mouth.

Tears prick the sides of your eyes and his hand reaches down to wipe them away. “Shit— I’m sorry… are you alright?”

You cough and catch your breath, something new and hot burning through your veins. Something about the way he lost all control… “It’s okay, I’m okay,” you say when you pull yourself together a little bit. You wipe the corners of your mouth and reach up to slowly pump his length again. “Let me try again.”

“You sure, darlin’?”

“I’m sure,” you say, looking up through your tear-soaked lashes, a small smile ghosting your lips as you nod.

He nods back and you take him in your mouth again, closing your eyes and breathing through it, trying to focus on taking as much of him down your throat as you can.

His hands find the back of your head again, not pushing anymore but tangling through your hair as you work.

He looks down and sees your eyes closed, brow furrowed in concentration and taking him so well. He drops a hand back down to your jaw, “Eyes on me, gorgeous.”

You carefully open your eyes to look up at him and when you do, his brows furrow with desperation, unable to look away from you as you bob up and down his length, hands once again pumping the length you can’t reach and massaging his balls.

“Shit, baby… that’s it…” he moans, watching the way your cheeks hollow and lips flush red from taking him. He’s twitching in your mouth and you think you’ve got him, flattening your tongue when he touches the back of your throat and swirling up his length as you pull back.

His abs start to tighten and you taste the slightly salty precum leaking from his tip. You work up the nerve to suppress your gag reflex as best you can, taking a few deep breathes before pushing yourself all the way down, taking his cock up to the hilt.

You stay there, letting your protesting throat constrict around him and he whines, his hand in your hair tightening and making you moan, another bolt of lightning taking over his entire being. His cock jumps in your throat and you think he’s a goner for sure—

He pulls you off his length completely and you gasp for air while he catches his breath too. “Nuh uh, baby. It can’t be over yet,” he says breathlessly.

You pout up at him, your doe eyes almost black from how blown your pupils are.

“Get back on the bed,” he demands.

So you do, rising a little wobbly from your knees and crawling back up onto the bed. Joel walks to the corner of the room and unplugs some of the cords plugged into the old amp.

He digs around in his nightstand and pulls out a condom before walking back over to the bed where you’re kneeling on the mattress. He sees you eyeing the little packet pinched between his fingers. “What’s th’ matter?”

You look at him, a blush forming on your face. “Oh, I…” Your mouth goes dry and you clear your throat. “…um, you don’t— I mean, I’m on the pill so, um… If you don’t wanna…” you ramble, trying to find your words but failing in your shyness.

He smiles smugly, tossing the condom to the side. “’S okay. I hear you loud and clear.”

You take a relieved breath and watch him stand there as he starts separating the wires. He twirls his finger in the air and you turn your body to face away from him.

“Gimme your hands, darling,” he says, firmly but gently.

You obey, reaching your hands behind your back. His giant hand easily fits both in one grip and he wraps one cable around your wrists.

You can’t help but smile to yourself, facing away from Joel so he can’t see, but you’re sure it’s audibly obvious when you ask “So this must be where the band name came from then, hm?” as he ties a comfortable knot around your wrists.

“What d’ya mean?”

“Fetters. Like restraints. Usually they’re on the ankles but I guess it’s the same principle.”

He breathes a laugh. “I mean, I didn’t help with the name all that much, but I guess ya’ really do learn somethin’ new every day,” he says just as he tightens the loose, but still restrictive, knot around your wrists.

You shimmy in them a little, surprised at how well they hold together. His hands are still there, rubbing over the covering of the cords and brushing against the warmth of your skin.

“These look real pretty on you, y’know,” he mutters from behind you.

You chuckle and ask, “You tell all the groupies that?”

He grabs your chin to face him, eyes scanning over your face for a second and planting a kiss to your lips before a positively devious smirk spreads across his face. Before you know it, he puts his hand on your back gently pushing down so your chest hits the bed.

“No, I don’t,” he says and you hear his footsteps fade. You sit there, face pressed against the mattress and ass in the air, desperately trying to crane your neck to see where in the world he’s going leaving you like this, all out in the open and exposed.

He treads back into the room and climbs back onto the bed right behind you, calves brushing up against the inside of your own as he grabs your hips to straighten them.

“I don’t tell the groupies nothin’,” he starts. “Usually jus’ ask if they want an autograph.”

The unmistakable click of a Sharpie cap rings in your ears and you feel the cold tip of the pen dragging along the skin right below the small of your back. You gasp, surprised at the unexpected feeling, completely shocked at the sheer audacity of this man, and you can’t help the butterflies it gives you, the way you mewl so quietly at the thought of him marking you with his name — his signature, no less — in such an intimate place.

You need to find a way to keep this man.

The pen trails off at the end and he recaps the marker, tossing it somewhere to the side before you feel his hands smoothing over your hips. He lets out a low toned, one-note whistle at you, staring at the dark ink branding your lower back. “Now, what a pretty view I have,” he says, a tantalizing, saccharine sweet tone lacing his words.

You can’t hold back the whimper that falls from your mouth at his teasing, his big warm hands rubbing big circles over each cheek.

He sees you clenching around nothing. “Want me to fuck you now, sweet girl?”

“Yes, please,” you whine, earning you a light tap on your ass.

He pulls on the cords and wraps an arm around your torso, bringing you up flush to his torso and reaching a hand to your mouth. “Gimme some help.”

You spit into his hand and he hums in content. “Atta girl,” he says, gently laying you back down and pumping his length with the wetness. You feel the tip of his cock rub against your folds and you squirm. He grabs your hip with his free hand as he lines himself up to notch right at your entrance. He slowly pushes just the tip in, the pressure making you moan.

“I gotcha, baby. Jus’ relax f’me,” he coos, pushing inch by inch into you letting you adjust to his size. Your walls twitch at the intrusion and your breathing gets heavier, soft sounds escaping your lips. Eventually, he’s up to the hilt and you swear you can feel him in your lungs. You subconsciously swirl your hips, the movement inside making you whine.

“Shit, baby… so fuckin’ tight…” Joel breathes, squeezing your hips and trying not to lose his cool too quickly. His cock bounces and he grunts, taking a minute before slowly pulling out of you as you whine at the loss. It’s short lived, though, because he’s immediately pushing back into you, the stretch and burn pulling a desperate groan from your throat.

“Fuck yeah, baby. You like how that feels?” he moans, picking up the pace slightly with each thrust.

“Yes— fuck, feels so good…” you moan. The way his cock drags along your walls makes your belly burn hot. His grip on your hips tight and threatening to bruise if he squeezes any harder, but you couldn’t care less. Just another way for him to mark you as his.

“Squeezin’ my cock so good… she’s achin’, baby…” He’s very talkative, you think and decide to play into it.

“She’s all yours, Joel. Pussy belongs to you,” you say as you squeeze him again, the pressure in your belly growing with each gentle kiss to your cervix that his tip gives you.

You feel his pace falter for a second, his grip tightening at that. “Yeah? Say it again. Who’s she belong to?” he says, pounding into you now, unable to keep control of his pace anymore.

You whine loudly with one of his thrusts when he drags up a bit hitting something new inside of you, something your ex surely hadn’t ever found before. Something you definitely had on your own but never this deep…

“Theeere it is,” he coos, pressing your torso down some more to get the angle just right and he’s hitting that soft, spongy part of you with every snap of his hips. You can barely form the words to tell him how fucking good it feels, nonsense whimpers leaving your mouth instead.

“Answer me, baby… Belongs to who?” His pace doesn’t let up and you can’t get the words out. “C’mon, you can do it, gorgeous… tell me…” he insists, slowly rubbing his hand across his own signature that’s been staring back at him.

“Sh… fuck, oh my god… she belongs to you, Joel…”

“That’s my good girl,” he says, leaning down and planting kisses down your spine, snaking a hand around to your front and circling your clit.

You cry out in pleasure, all the sensations getting to be too much. A flood of wetness spills out with a twitch of your insides making Joel’s cock slippery, letting him push in and pull out easier than before. He picks up his pace again with ease, rapidly hurdling you towards the edge.

My good girl…

That one little word finally hits you after a minute.

My.

His unrelenting fingers on your clit… the way his tip hits your cervix with every snap of his hips… my good girl… it’s all too much. “Fuck… fuck… fuck, ‘mgonnacome…” you mumble in a high pitched whine.

“Fuck yes, baby… come all over my cock, that’s it… feels so fuckin’ good, darlin’…” he moans from behind you, the grip on your hips definitely bruising now as he keeps pounding into you. Your back arches and your whole body writhes as your walls squeeze him impossibly tight. Your vision blurs and you have no control over the downright pornographic sounds escaping your mouth. All you feel is warmth everywhere.

“Holy shit—” you hear Joel but he sounds far away, your head still spinning with pleasure. “Fuckin’ hell, baby…” When you feel like you can finally see again, you see a wet spot on the bed and your eyes go wide, quickly craning your head around as best you can and see Joel’s thighs soaked from you.

“Oh, shit— I-I’m sorry, oh my fucking god, I didn’t meant—” you stop mid sentence when Joel plows into you again bottoming out completely, your words trailing off into a wailing moan.

He drags out slowly but quickly regains his momentum. “Fuck, baby… Chokin’ my dick so good… So. Fucking. Hot,” he says, punctuating his words with the slap of his hips on your ass.

Your legs start to give out under you and it’s like Joel already knows you’re almost too gone to take anymore as he unties the knot at your wrists, your arms falling to the bed. He flips you over, managing to stay inside, and lays you on your back. Your hair lays messily on the pillow and Joel leans down to fix it, tracing his fingers along the side of your face and kissing you deeply.

When he pulls away, he stares at your fucked-out eyes, his own completely taken over by his pupils so much that you can barely tell what color they actually are anymore. “Baby, you gotta give me one more…” he begs.

You raise your eyebrows worriedly, unsure if you can actually take anymore. You whine at his ask and he gives you another quick kiss, resting his forehead against your own when he pulls away, your lips barely touching. He’s moving in and out of you at a snail’s pace, so close to his own orgasm that any extra movement would cause him to snap. “Please, baby, I know you can do it. Doin’ so good for me already, just one more…”

You nod weakly and stare through hooded eyes. “Thank you, angel,” he sighs, gently fucking into you a little quicker and peppering kisses at the corners of your mouth. Your hands trail up to his shoulders rubbing up and down on his soft skin. Forehead pressed to yours again, you feel him panting, small moans and whimpers filling your ears.

“Feel so good…” you use all your strength to whimper out, barely above a whisper. His eyes open, brows furrowed in desperation. You feel him twitching hard now, so close to his own orgasm but not wanting this to end.

“S’good, Joel… so big…” He whimpers at your words, his hips moving erratically, unpredictably. He’s close, you think. And it eggs you on.

“Want you to come for me… Please…”

“Yeah? You want it?” he breathes.

“Please…” you say again in a whimper, grabbing his face in your hands.

“Where, baby? Want it inside?”

“Yes, inside… please, please, please…” you beg.

“Come with me baby… wanna feel you squeezin’ me… fuck— c-can you do that?”

You whine and nod, having been teetering on the edge of overstimulation with another orgasm growing in your belly. You roll your hips slightly into him, the extra movement sending shivers down your spine.

“So close, baby, I can feel it… ‘s right there, she’s chokin’ me…” he grunts out, painfully holding back his own until you come undone under him again.

Which doesn’t take long, a flutter of your heart and one big wave of arousal covering you from head to toe making you see stars. Your mouth opens in a silent moan, unable to even make a sound as you come on his length all over again.

“Fuck… fuck… good girl, ‘m gonna come—”

Joel’s breathing quickens, becoming ragged and broken as he grunts and whines and spills inside of you. His lips press to your forehead suppressing his noises with kisses there as he empties himself inside of you, filling you up completely.

Your hands scrape his back at his shoulders, your senses all blurring into one another. Joel’s weight falls on top of you as he moves his kisses down from your forehead to your nose and finally to your lips, his tongue licking into you as you feel his cock finally stop twitching. He sits back to pull out of you watching as his cum leaks out of you. You whine at the loss feeling empty but still so full from him, shivering as you feel it dripping down your body.

Joel wipes his sweat-ridden brow and sighs with a goofy smile as he looks down at you. Your body is still jolting from your last orgasm. Any more and you would have been overstimulated beyond belief.

“Now that I definitely don’t do with the groupies, sweetheart,” he teases.

You give him a playful glare and chuckle at him. “What about all that autograph nonsense, then?”

“Well, you got the first of its kind. Never signed anyone there before.”

You blush and stretch a little, suddenly feeling that damp spot from earlier. You sit up in panic and sit back leaning against his pillows again. “Shit, Joel. I’m so sorry. That’s never happened before, I—”

“Stop,” he cuts you off. “Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for. Sheets can be washed.”

“But I made a mess—”

“C’mere, baby,” he says, extending a hand out to you. You take it and he pulls you towards him, both of you on your knees facing each other as his arm snakes around your torso pulling you even closer into him. “‘M gonna get you cleaned up, ‘kay? Got a spare bedroom we can use anyway.”

You stare into his eyes, his words bouncing around in your head. We can use. “We?” you ask.

He scrunches his eyebrows, raising one at you. “What, you wanna run away already? Was it that bad?” he jokes.

“Oh, quit,” you say, playfully hitting his shoulder.

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, standing up at the end of the bed and holding his arms out to you. “C’mon, pretty girl, how’s a warm bath sound, hm?”

“Sounds amazing, actually.” You grab his hands and stand up, taking a second to get your balance before following Joel to the bathroom.

When you’re all cleaned up, you walk into his living room wearing one of his t-shirts, a pair of his boxers, and some very oversized socks that he left in the bathroom for you to change into, towel drying the rest of your hair so it's not dripping everywhere. He sits on his couch, fresh pajamas on and dampened hair from the shower he took in the other smaller bathroom.

He taps the space next to him inviting you to sit, TV on and low, playing some random movie he found to fill the silence around him while waiting for you. You curl up into him, you warm from your bath and him warm from relaxing. He squeezes you close, planting a kiss to the top of your head.

Erica was right. You really did need this. Maybe it's stupid that you're growing so fond of this guy and you've known him for just a night, but there really is something about him. Something you can't quite explain...

You spend the rest of the night curled up next to Joel, your entire being content and you can only think one thing:

You’re not letting this one go easily. This one’s gonna be yours.

All yours.

a/n : thank y'all again so much for 100 followers, it means so much seriously 💜🫶🥹 and thank you for reading this fic that absolutely got away from me in the end, this idea tortured me for weeks and hopefully letting him out into the world will give me some peace finally 😭 but really, thank you guys so much and i hope everyone enjoys !!

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ginnsbaker · 9 months

Text

prophylaxis

Summary: The most powerful Avenger is afraid of one thing: dental appointments, or the one where you're a dentist and Wanda is a baby about seeing one

Word count: 2.6k | Warnings: None. This is just good ol' fluff

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Author's note: This has been sitting in my drafts for some time, and while this is a one shot, I might follow up with more :)

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Next part: the follow up

Steve and Natasha are barely done with their own routine dental check-ups when the notification of an emergency mission comes through. The Avengers' annual dental visit is typically swift and uncomplicated, but the arrival of their urgent mission turns the day into something far more chaotic.

“Where is Wanda?” Steve asks, scrolling through the mission details on his phone.

Natasha shrugs, sipping on her post-check-up glass of scotch. “I haven't seen her since breakfast.”

Vision appears in the room at that moment, his face expressing the closest thing to exasperation an android can manage. “She’s only now on the chair,” he says, glancing at Steve, whose eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“Now? But everyone else is done!”

“I had to convince her to come,” Vision sighs. “I found her hiding in the back library. It took me the better part of an hour to persuade her to face the dentist.”

Natasha rolls her eyes at the revelation, trying to suppress her chuckle. The most powerful Avenger, avoiding a simple dental prophylaxis. “We don't have all day, Steve. The mission is critical.”

Steve nods, sliding his phone into his pocket. “We'll leave a note for her. She should meet us ASAP once she's done.”

Natasha gets up from her chair, glancing one last time at Vision, as she quips, “Good luck to whoever is the dentist working on her this year.”

As you approach the dental chair, you take note of the apprehensive figure occupying it. You've already seen a dozen Avengers today, each with their unique quirks and idiosyncrasies.

But Wanda Maximoff, her gaze filled with clear distaste for the situation, seems to take the cake. She's curled in on herself, making her seem smaller than she actually is. The sight of her alone would have been enough to unnerve you, but the intermittent quivers of your dental tools due to an unseen force send a cold shiver down your spine. You can't help but wonder if you've drawn the short straw when they assigned you the patients for today.

You try your best to project an air of calm. Inside, though, your nerves are jangling like alarm bells.

“Wanda, right?” you confirm, trying to keep your voice steady.

She nods, her eyes wide as saucers.

“I promise this won't hurt,” you reassure her, even as your tools continue to rattle on the tray. “It's just a routine check-up.”

A skeptical glance is thrown your way but it's at least some reaction. Her gaze is piercing, and it takes every bit of your collected facade to keep from faltering. An absurd thought flashes across your mind: if you were to meet an untimely demise in your line of duty today, who on earth would inherit the numerous houseplants that have taken over your apartment over the years?

With a nervous smile that Wanda can barely make out behind the surgical mask you wear, you gently ask, "Shall we begin?" Your tone is soothing, carefully modulated to put her at ease.

The poor Avenger takes a deep, long breath before giving you the go-ahead to proceed with the checkup.

For her part, Wanda begins to concentrate on anything other than the feeling of your gloved fingers in her mouth. Her gaze settles on your oversized prescription glasses that lend an air of professional yet friendly vibe. And there’s something about the clean, familiar scent wafting off your white coat that comforts her more than she's willing to admit.

She can’t help it when her mind starts drawing comparisons with last year's dentist—a gruff, no-nonsense man whose hands always seemed cold and who lacked any bedside manner whatsoever. You, on the other hand, are like a breath of fresh air with your calming demeanor and reassuring approach. Wanda blushes at the thought that, admittedly, you’re kind of a nice upgrade.

You begin the examination with meticulous care, your movements deliberately gentle to assure Wanda of your sensitivity to her obvious anxiety. As you carefully check her teeth and gums, you're acutely aware of how much trust she's placing in you, despite her apparent discomfort.

Glancing into her eyes as you angle your dental mirror to inspect her molars, you're suddenly struck by the piercing green of her irises. Even under the harsh clinic lights, they appear incredibly vibrant. Framed by the dark eyeliner she wears, her eyes are sharp and arresting. They follow your every move, staring up at you with an intensity that causes your skin to perspire under your uniform.

You've dealt with many patients over the years, some with eyes equally as fascinating, but something about Wanda's gaze is different. It's as if she's not just watching you but reading you, understanding you in a way that makes you feel exposed.

Your focus starts to waver under her scrutiny, and that's when you notice something strange. The dental tools on the tray beside you begin to quiver more violently, vibrating with an unseen force. Your heart skips a beat, realization dawning on you that Wanda's powers are reacting to her nervousness.

But it's not just her nervousness; Wanda's face takes on a look of surprise, her eyes widening momentarily. You can almost feel her presence in your mind, a subtle brushing against your consciousness.

She's read your thoughts, albeit accidentally.

She knows how captivated you are by her eyes.

Catching yourself, you quickly shift your thoughts to a safer topic–your plants. The vibrant green of Wanda's eyes morphs into the various shades of green gracing the leaves of your beloved indoor jungle. Your Monstera, your string of pearls, your peace lily–

And yet, none of them are a match for the pair of green orbs that your mind keeps going back to. A flush of embarrassment creeps up your neck as you meet her gaze, the unspoken understanding between you making the air in the room feel charged. Wanda's cheeks take on a hint of color, and her control over her powers seems to falter, your tools–and a chair behind Wanda–now levitating a couple of inches from where they originally sat.

“I'm sorry,” she stammers, wide-eyed and apologetic. You barely make out what she’s saying with her mouth still wide open. “I didn't mean to…”

“It's okay,” you reply in a comforting murmur, pausing your examination. The room fills with the soft humming of the overhead light and the subtle scent of sterilized equipment. “I'm here with you. We'll go at your pace. Just breathe.”

Giving Wanda a few moments to calm herself, you pull back, placing the dental tools on the tray beside you. You keep your eyes on Wanda, a soothing smile hidden behind your mask. Her chest rises and falls steadily as she follows your instructions, taking deep, calming breaths.

However, you can't help but glance at the floating items around you, fearing that one of them might go straight for your heart that’s thudding loudly in your ears now. They seem to be suspended in mid-air, almost like a magic trick. Wanda catches your gaze, following it to the levitating objects. The already present color on her cheeks darken, and with a flicker of her gaze, your tools reintroduce themselves to gravity once again.

You don't comment on it. Instead, you simply offer another encouraging smile, masked by your surgical mask, but visible in your eyes. You extend your gloved hand towards the once again earthbound dental tools, feeling the cool metal against your palm.

“Are we good to proceed?” you ask in a soft voice, patiently waiting for her agreement before picking up where you left off.

Wanda doesn’t move, seemingly hesitant to say yes or no.

“Will it help if I talk to you?”

She gives you a small nod in response this time.

“Alright,” you say with a hint of a chuckle. “Don't judge me if I start to sound silly, okay?”

And so you start to speak as you get back to work, recounting random memories and thoughts as you continue with the examination. You talk about funny incidents at work, share stories about your beloved plants, and even admit to that time you almost killed your favorite fern with coffee instead of water. At first, you feel slightly ridiculous, babbling about the care of succulents to an Avenger, one of the most powerful beings on the planet. But as the minutes tick by, you see a change in her. The initial terror in her eyes fades into curiosity, her body relaxes, and she even smiles at some of your sillier anecdotes.

You get lost in talking to Wanda, feeling both delighted and somewhat ridiculous that you're enjoying this one-sided conversation. You're fully aware that she can't respond with an excavator in her mouth, but it doesn't feel like she's just tolerating your chatter. Her eyes are attentive, following your movements, reacting every now and then. Her body language is open, receptive, almost as if she's hanging onto every word.

As for Wanda, something unexpected is happening. She finds herself liking your voice more and more, feeling an unfamiliar pull towards it. It's warm, comforting, and filled with a sincerity that she didn't expect. She even finds herself slightly attracted to it. But it's a foreign feeling, one she doesn't quite understand, especially in this setting.

As you conclude your examination, you realize that one of Wanda's molars needs a filling. It isn't urgent, a situation that could be deferred to another appointment if she wishes.

“Looks like you have a small cavity,” you inform her, meeting her eyes. “It's not of immediate concern, but we should schedule another appointment if you'd like to have it filled.”

To your surprise, Wanda agrees, not just with a polite nod, but with a subtle hint of anticipation lighting up her eyes. She agrees to another date, another round of you poking around her mouth with your scary dental tools. And yet, there's a hint of eagerness that surprises even her.

As you finish your work, you lean back, pulling off your surgical mask and gloves. For the first time, Wanda gets a full view of your face. It's like a silent reveal, one she hadn't been expecting, and it takes her aback.

She finds herself caught in a subtle admiration, a feeling that quickly intensifies as she takes in your features. There's something about your face that she finds herself drawn to, the warmth of your eyes, the curve of your lips, the soft contours of your cheekbones.

And when you smile, her breath hitches slightly. It's a simple gesture, but one that lights up your face, reaching your eyes and causing them to crinkle at the corners. It's genuine, open, and a little bit contagious.

“Thanks for your patience, Doctor...?” Wanda voices, feeling a tad awkward. It occurs to her belatedly that she didn't have the foresight to ask for your name before you started the check-up.

“Just call me Y/N. It's my pleasure,” you reply, your smile deepening, unaware of the effect it's having on the Avenger before you. “I'll see you for that follow-up appointment, then?”

As soon as Wanda is escorted outside by Vision, you release a breath you didn't know you've been holding. Leaning against the counter, you try to calm the racing of your heart, which beats as if you've just run a marathon.

Wanda Maximoff is... quite a surprise. Her beauty, her vulnerability, the way she seemed to really listen to your inane chatter–it's all unexpected, disarming even. You find your mind drifting back to the way her eyes softened, the almost shy smile that graced her lips.

You quickly shake your head, trying to dispel these thoughts. This is unprofessional, you think. She's your patient. A patient who just happens to be one of the world's most powerful individuals. It's nothing more than that.

You glance at the clock on the wall, realizing you've spent more time with Wanda than any other patient today. You should be moving on to your paperwork, getting ready to call it a day.

But as you sit down at your desk, the fluttering feeling in your stomach doesn't subside, and Wanda Maximoff's haunting green eyes remain etched in your mind.

Walking down the corridors of the Avengers compound, Wanda finds herself in step with Vision. As they pass various agents and fellow Avengers, Vision turns to look at her.

“Wanda,” he starts, his voice taking on that concerned lilt that she's grown accustomed to. “I'm detecting unusual signs in your vitals. Your heart rate is elevated, your body temperature has slightly increased, and your pupils are dilated.”

Wanda blinks, feeling an unexpected heat crawl up her neck. Her palms are also feeling slightly clammy, and she has this weird fluttering sensation in her stomach. She tries to brush it off. It must have been the anxiety, right?

“Are you not feeling well?” Vision probes further, halting in his tracks to face her. His eyes scan her face, looking for any visible signs of discomfort. Wanda's mind races, trying to figure out how to downplay her seemingly irrational reaction to a denti–a dental appointment.

“No, Vision. I'm... I'm just fine.” Her voice sounds surprisingly steady to her own ears. She forces a smile onto her face, aiming to reassure her friend.

Vision doesn't seem fully convinced but doesn't push further. They resume their walk, but Wanda can't shake off the feeling that something has changed, something she doesn't quite understand yet. And for some reason, her thoughts keep drifting back to a certain dentist with a soothing voice, warm eyes, and a love for plants.

How did it happen that a dental appointment, of all things, has turned into the highlight of her day?

The kitchen is dimly lit when Vision enters, the only illumination coming from the withdrawn overhead lights. Natasha is there, assembling her favorite late-night snack, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She looks up as Vision approaches, her eyes curious.

“I trust the mission went well?” Vision inquires, noting the subtle signs of fatigue in Natasha's posture.

She offers a half-smile, nodding. “It did. It's all sorted now. How's Wanda after the check-up?”

Vision's eyes narrow slightly, and he hesitates for a moment before responding, “She is... well. The new dentist was quite effective in putting her at ease.”

Natasha smirks, spreading the jelly onto the bread with precision. “Told you a change would do the trick. I still can't believe you managed to convince Tony to switch dentists.”

“And find the perfect replacement,” Natasha adds after some thought, licking the jelly from the knife.

“It was a logical choice. The previous dentist was less than satisfactory, particularly with Wanda.” He pauses, considering something. “But this one... she seemed to have a rather profound effect on her.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow, looking up from her sandwich. “Profound effect?”

“Yes,” Vision says thoughtfully. “I detected unusual signs in her vitals afterward. Increased heart rate, heightened body temperature, a certain... excitement in her demeanor. It was quite unexpected.”

Natasha's eyes widen slightly, and a mischievous smile begins to form on her lips. “You don't say?”

Vision gazes at the digital interface on his palm, a soft hum of approval in his voice. “Indeed, she has also filed for a leave of absence a week from now. She has another dental appointment, but this time at the doctor’s private clinic.”

Natasha pauses, her sandwich halfway to her mouth.

Vision meets her gaze, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. "Do you think it could mean something?"

Natasha shrugs, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Who knows, Vis?” she says, taking a huge bite of her sandwich. “Maybe it's just a good dentist.” And then with a wink and a knowing smile, she adds, “Or maybe…”

She leaves the thought hanging, deliberately ambiguous, and exits the room, her satisfied crunching echoing down the hallway.

Vision is left standing in the kitchen, confusion etched across his synthetic features. He considers the day's events, attempting to analyze how Wanda suddenly managed to conquer her most irrational fear.

Humans really are something.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #vision #steve rogers

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marvelfilth · 8 months

Text

Dookie the Matchmaker

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x f!reader

Warnings: mention of blood

Summary: She curses herself for forgetting to ask for your name, but she thinks it's better this way. She can't afford to get close to anyone. Not after Amber. Not after Quinn and Ethan.

Masterlist

Tara falls in love.

It happens slowly, gradually. At first, she doesn't even notice, just keeps sending you awkward smiles and brief glances, long enough to be considered friendly, but not long enough to make you question her.

She sees you regularly during her economics class - it was one of the electives, and Sam made some good points about choosing it, so she did.

You're never late, always showing up a few minutes early, taking your seat near the window and drawing doodles in your notebook.

Tara doesn't even remember when she first started noticing you, she just knows that one day she walked in and her eyes zeroed in on your seat, corners of her mouth curling up at the familiar sight of you hunched over the desk, chewing on your pen.

You're never absent, so when she was forced to miss one of the lectures she ventured to you, hesitantly asking to borrow your notes.

She keeps telling herself she did that because she is an outcast now, no one in her class is willing to talk to her and seats closest to her always remain empty, but honestly she just wanted to hear your voice and maybe see you smile at her, if she's lucky.

Turns out luck was on her side that day, because the smile directed at her was wide and inviting, and you gave her your notes without a question.

She curses herself for forgetting to ask for your name, but she thinks it's better this way. She can't afford to get close to anyone. Not after Amber. Not after Quinn and Ethan.

She convinces herself that the looks she regularly receives in the halls don't bother her. She pretends she doesn't hear harsh words muttered behind her back. She sits at the farthest table at the cafeteria with Chad and Mindy by her side, looking away when she feels people staring.

She can't ignore the shove she receives after she hurries away from her economics class.

She looks up and fights the urge to throw up.

It's one of Ethan's friends, all bulky, tall and angry. Other students walk by without a second glance, and his lips curl in a way that makes her shiver.

She takes a deep breath and looks him straight in the eye, straightening her shoulders.

"What's going on?"

You're the last one to walk out, looking between them in confusion, one hand in your pocket, the other on the door behind you.

He smirks and cocks his head to the side, and she really really doesn't want you to see this.

"Are you deaf?" You ask, more forcefully this time, and to her surprise you choose to stand by her side, your shoulder brushing against hers in silent support.

"Just want to have a little chat. You should leave." He jerks his head at you, but you don't budge, your eyes narrowing.

"After you, Matthews."

You look at each other for a long moment, and Tara's about to finally speak up, tell you to just leave it and go, when he scoffs and walks past you, shouldering you harshly.

You roll your eyes and make sure he leaves, before turning to her with that warm smile and kind eyes, asking if she's okay, offering to walk her home.

She shakes her head, whispers a quiet thanks and rushes away, not looking back.

Later that night she cries in Sam's arms. No words are said out loud, but she knows her sister understands, can feel it in the press of lips on her temple and the tears that disappear in her hair.

Next morning they visit a dog shelter and come back home with another family member.

The dog doesn't take well to strangers.

Mindy and Chad, who are now living with them, shriek when they first see their new pet, jumping on the counter when the Doberman starts barking loudly. In the end, Sam is the one to calm everyone down, because Tara is too busy wheezing on the couch.

It takes two months for the dog to get used to the twins and they complain the whole time. But even they can't deny feeling this new sense of security.

"Dude, she's so good." Chad rambles on and on about some girl days later, while Tara picks at her salad distractedly, her thoughts on you and the shirt you decided to wear today. It showed off your arms and she idly wonders if you play any sports, but doesn't allow her mind to wander further.

Mindy laughs loudly and shakes her head.

"I'm telling you. You should've seen her, she's crazy." He exclaims, gaining attention of nearby students.

He doesn't look away like Tara does, instead he looks them in the eye and waits, daring them to say something. They never do, because Chad is Chad. And Tara is… well, she's just Tara.

"Okay, we got it. Or do you want everyone to know?" Mindy chuckles, elbowing her brother.

Chad takes a sip of his water and grins proudly. "As matter of fact, yes, I do. She's amazing and everyone needs to know that. I think she's in one of your classes, you need to introduce us," he directs at Tara to which she shrugs, trying to hide her sudden interest.

You're the only person she notices, and if you're the one he's talking about she has no desire to introduce you.

If she could, she would keep you to herself.

She blinks, surprised by her own thought and quickly shoves it into the deepest corner of her mind.

She finally understands what he was talking about when she sees you during basketball practice, practically annihilating the other team. She gulps and pointedly ignores the looks Mindy and Chad keep sending her, her eyes on your lean body as you send yet another ball through the hoop. You smile when your teammate slaps your back good-naturally and send her a wink, making Tara swoon in her seat at the bleachers.

You don't notice her at all, your eyes never stray away from the court, your chest glistening with sweat, making the smaller girl lick her lips.

"Are you drooling?" Mindy smirks.

Tara rolls her eyes and doesn't grant a response.

She spends the rest of the day wishing that wink was directed to her.

When she sees Matthews again it doesn't go the way she thought it would go.

You burst through a door, looking ragged and breathless. Tara runs into you, your eyes widening in alarm before you quickly hide your hands behind your back, and Tara immediately tenses up, unconsciously taking a step back. A moment later Matthews walks out of the same door, his nose bleeding profoundly. He blanches when he sees you, and backtracks, shutting the door behind him with a loud bang.

You shift sheepishly and apologize for startling her, but Tara doesn't hear any of it, all of her senses focused on the way your chest rises with each breath, the way your tongue darts out to wet your lips in a nervous gesture.

Tara blinks rapidly and curses quietly. She mutters a lame excuse and almost sprints out of the building, away from you, away from her unwanted feelings.

That night Sam tells her something that makes her heart skip a bit.

"We can't live our life in fear. Maybe… maybe you should give them a chance. But not before I meet them, of course."

The words leave her with a warm feeling in her chest. She doesn't know how Sam found out, but she's grateful nonetheless.

The problem is, she has no idea how to approach you. It wasn't easy to come up and ask for notes and you were strangers then, she wasn't fully aware of her feelings. Technically, you're still strangers, but you've saved her ass multiple times now and all she's done is run. So yeah, no one can blame her for not knowing how to approach you after she so carefully avoided any interaction with you for so long.

It happens right after she steps out of her favorite pizza place after picking up her order.

One moment she has a tight grip on the leash, pizza box in other hand, and the next, her dog is sprinting like there's no tomorrow, easily tugging Tara behind him.

The brunette struggles to keep up, pizza long forgotten in favor of trying to stop her dog, both of her hands getting white from the tight grip she has on the leash.

"Dookie!" She shouts, trying to stop her dog. "Dookie, stop!"

With one last harsh tug from the doberman she is forced to let go of the leash, huffing and sprinting after the dog. She is already panting, and by the time her dog rounds the corner she has half a mind to call Sam and make her chase the dog down herself. After all, it was her sister's idea to get one.

There's a yelp right before she rounds the corner and she runs faster, almost bumping into the rough concrete, panic coursing through her veins.

She stops in her tracks as soon as she sees you.

"Hey, buddy," you say, giggling.

The leash previously held in Tara's hand is now wrapped snugly around your legs, effectively keeping you in place. Her dog, the traitor that he is, is jumping at you in joy, trying to lick your face.

Now that she's sure no one's hurt, she takes a moment to get her breathing under control and to observe her supposedly very scary guard dog making you laugh. She can't help, but be jealous of the way her dog so easily got your attention.

She thinks about calling Sam, or Mindy, or even Chad, because she can't do this. She can't walk up to you when you're looking so breathtakingly beautiful, laughing unabashedly, your eyes glistening in the sunlight.

But she has no other choice now, seeing you nearly topple over when Dookie decides to make another lap around you.

"Stop it!" she whisper yells at the dog as soon as she nears the two of you.

You look up, surprised, and blink, before a grin overtakes your features. You try to face her and realize you can't even turn when your legs don't move an inch.

She bends and picks up the leash, embarrassment painted over her features. "I'm so sorry. He's never done that before," she chuckles awkwardly and tugs on the leash.

You yelp when the movement causes you to trip and fall into her arms, and she catches you without missing a beat, holding you while you regain your footing.

Her dog barks happily from behind you.

"Sorry," you mutter, trying to pry away from the leash, but the dog doesn't move from the place near your feet, drool dripping over your shoes.

Tara's sure she looks positively horrified at the sight of your drool covered shoes, her face feels like it's been set on fire. She crouches in front of you and begins to unwrap the leash, and you try to help her as much as you can, much to the dog's displeasure.

"There. All done." She gets up, her eyes darting around the street. "I'm really sorry about this. Don't know what's gotten into him, he's never tried to kidnap anyone before." She realizes just how true the words are as soon as they leave her lips.

Dookie hates strangers. It took Chad and Mindy almost a month to even pet the dog, much less cuddle with him like old friends, which is what you're doing now. She hums in thought, barely managing to hide a smile.

Dookie's approval means Sam's approval.

You laugh, shaking your head. "It's fine. Seems like he just wants to play. You're Tara, right?" You look up, squinting from the sun and the sight almost takes her breath away.

Her face burns and she curses herself for not even giving you her name after all the times you've saved her. But it seems you don't mind at all, smiling softly and looking away like you don't want to pressure her into having a conversation.

She decides she's done being afraid.

"Yes. And you're Y/n," she mumbles, suddenly shy. "And this is Dookie," she adds, gesturing to the dog jumping at your feet.

You get up from your crouch, laughing. "Dookie?"

"Short for Babadook. It's my favorite scary movie." She looks away momentarily, tension taking root in her shoulders as she awaits your reply.

"I hate scary movies." You make a face, shuddering.

She exhales with a chuckle and looks back to where she came from. "Wanna go look for the pizza I threw somewhere down this alley?" She asks jokingly, but she really really hopes you'll say yes.

"I'd love to," you smile, a red tint on your cheeks.

When she comes back home with a spring in her step and a happy grin in place, Sam smiles knowingly and gives her a hug that feels like home.

#tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #tara carpenter x fem!reader #tara carpenter #jenna ortega #dookie the matchmaker

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gurugirl · 2 months

Text

ex-boyfriend's dad!harry part 2

Summary: Harry wants to show you what you've been missing if you'll let him. OR The filthy smutty one.

A/N: This full series is already live on Patreon, with all 4 parts up! Part 3 will be posted here in one week. THIS PART HAS NEARLY 9K WORDS OF SMUT ALONE. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.

Word Count: 10.8k

Series Warnings: explicit content, smut (including anal, rough blow jobs), age gap, angst, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, choking, slight degradation, use of small implements (collar and leash, anal plug)

Part 2 Warnings: smut, rough blow job training, age gap, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamics, use of anal plug, use of collar and leash, choking, slight degradation, spitting, size kink (as always), anal play

ex-boyfriend's dad!harry masterlist

. . .

It felt like one of your fantasies, to have Harry’s eyes on you in your bedroom, where you knew he was about to do some very unwholesome things to you. He said he was going to show you what it felt like to be eaten out by a man who enjoys it and that was... Well, that was the hottest thing you’d ever heard when it was coming from his mouth.

You sat on your bed and watched as Harry rolled his sleeves up to his elbows as if he was about to do some manual labor, “You look cute tonight, Y/n. Did you have me in mind when you picked out those shorts?”

You looked down at your lap and smiled before looking at him, “Yes.”

“Did you eat before I came over?”

Now this question caught you off guard. You shook your head, “Uh… no. I ate earlier. Like one o’clock I think?”

He tutted at you as he removed his belt, pulling the leather from the belt loops on his pants, “We’ll eat something after we’re done here. Okay?”

You nodded. In truth, you liked that he planned something after you were done. It meant that he’d be sticking around a bit longer. Maybe he’d stay all night. You didn’t want to push your luck.

This was a side of Harry you hadn’t really gotten to see before. Somehow his demeanor was filling in tiny cracks you didn’t know needed filled. It felt like things were sealing and fusing together inside of you as you watched him move about and talk to you the way he was. Like he knew exactly what he was doing.

Your bedroom seemed so small with him standing in it, his eyes on you while you sat in wait on your bed. Waiting for him to tell you what to do next. Waiting to see what he was going to do and how he’d do it.

He took one long-legged step toward your bed and dropped the heavy black belt onto your light blue comforter before he sat next to you.

You kept your eyes on his movements as if your life depended on it. You watched his hand draw up to your chin and felt his fingers squeeze into your skin before he pulled your face in toward his and ran his smooth lips up your jaw, “I’m gonna make you feel so good Y/n.”

You closed your eyes and every part of you was open to him. Pliable and willing. Whatever he wanted. However he wanted it. You wanted it if he was going to be the one doing it.

He pressed his fingers into the hollows of your cheeks with his large palm pressing to the underside of your chin, his thumb on one side and pointer finger on the other of your face when he pressed his lips to yours. The juxtaposition of his soft lips and his harsh grip had you spinning. He was directing the entire thing and angling your face toward his the way he wanted. You sat your palm on his upper thigh to balance yourself and that’s when he pushed his tongue into your mouth. Wet and hot. You opened up for him and felt his tongue lap against yours.

The pitiful moan that fell from your chest had him smiling against your lips, “You like to be handled a little rough, Y/n?”

You nodded against his mouth before he parted from the kiss, “I can tell.” He released his grip from your face and ran his fingers along your temple, “If you want to see me again after this then we’ll get into a little more of what I think you’ll like and things I like. We’ll go over the rules. But there’s no pressure today. Okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled at him. But… See him again? Get into things he likes? That had your heart lobbing in your chest with satisfaction.

“I might hold you tight with my hands to keep you still, maybe do a few little things just to see how you like it, but nothing too rough or uncomfortable. If you don’t like something just tell me. Today we’re just gonna have some fun and get ourselves sorted out.”

You watched him shift and your hand fell away from his thigh as he gripped your sides and pushed you up to your pillows before rubbing his hands down your thighs and over your shins before pushing your legs apart, “Keep your legs open for me. I don’t want you closing them, even if you feel like you want to or it’s your natural urge. There will be consequences,” he smirked at you before continuing, “Nothing severe, though. We’re just playing right, Y/n?” He pushed his hands up the insides of your thighs as his green eyes seared into you.

You grinned and bobbed your head up and down in agreement as you looked from his eyes to where his hands were inching closer to your crotch, his fingers sneaking under the hem of your shorts (which were quite short).

He lifted your left leg first, keeping his eyes on yours as he smushed his plush lips against the inside of your thigh, “Ever since you told me that you weren’t getting the favor returned to you I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. About doing this to you. To show you what you’ve been missing. Feels like I need to make up for what Tyler wouldn’t do. So you know that kind of behavior doesn’t run in the family.”

His lips trailed over your soft flesh and up to the hem of your shorts, using his thumb to push the material up so he could get his mouth as close to your core as possible without actually being close enough to your very center.

He switched to your other thigh, placing your left leg down on the bed and lifting the right one the same way he did with the other, “Knew you’d be so good for me. Didn’t want to admit it then but I certainly imagined it. Do you know what I did that night after we got out of the pool?”

You shook your head, “No. What?”

He grinned, moving his mouth further up again and to the hem of your shorts, “It’s shameful and dirty but I couldn’t help it, Y/n. Before I tell you what I did,” he pushed your shorts up and applied a wet open mouth kiss to your skin, “I have to be honest. I saw your pretty little pussy that night.”

You blinked your eyes as you listened to him. You didn’t mean to let your mouth drop open the way it did because you kind of suspected he had. But to hear him say it…

“When I pushed you out of the water you opened your legs, and I saw you. That image has been burned into my memory. Can’t stop seeing it, Y/n.”

You inhaled sharply as he dropped your right leg and began to put his hands into the band of your shorts, “Taking these off. Okay?”

You nodded, your eyes darting down to where he began to pull your stretchy shorts down your legs until you were only left in your panties (picked out just for the occasion) and t-shirt.

You watched Harry’s eyes rove over your thighs and hips, his hands smoothing over you and down the side of your thighs before he dragged his knuckles down the center of your panties to your mound.

“That night, in my room I imagined you on your hands and knees for me, this pussy here,” he pressed over your labia and smoothed his thumb against the fabric of your panties, “just on display for me, peeking out from the back of your thighs.”

He licked his lips as he continued rubbing over your panties until he found the spot your clit was in and looked up at you, “I was so hard for you. And I felt awful, I really did, but I couldn’t stop seeing it, Y/n. I tried not to touch myself. Tried not to think about your breasts and your hips and this pretty bottom,” he kneaded at your upper thighs where the plush flesh met the curve of your butt. “But I couldn’t stop the sight of you from filling my head.”

You kept bouncing your sight from his fingers to his face as he continued.

“Mind if I pull this to the side? So I can see it again?”

“Yeah. It’s okay,” you nodded and held your breath as he hooked his finger into the crotch of your panties and pulled them aside. He cooed when your pussylips came into view and immediately pressed his thumb over your labia with the softest touch, smearing your arousal gently upward to your clit.

“When I couldn’t stop the picture of you naked and wet in the pool I began to ache. I tried willing my erection away but it didn’t work. I was in bed trying to think of anything else. I attempted to close my eyes and go to sleep but that only made it worse.”

“Then I started to leak. I wasn’t wearing anything. Went to bed naked because it hurt too much to put anything over my cock. But when I felt the moisture at my tip I knew I was fucked. My body was too turned on and I was dripping precome. I had to spread it down my shaft and stroked myself a little bit for relief but it felt too good.”

He sighed and you felt his fingers push your lips apart as he focused in on your pussy and then circled over your clit, making you moan.

“So I fucked my fist and imagined you were there, pressing your wet cunt up and down my cock and getting the relief I knew you were in need of. And even now, I can tell you need relief. So wet and puffy. Your skin is so hot.”

You swallowed and nodded shallowly as you watched him circle two fingers at your entrance and gently push in just the tips, “Want my fingers inside of you?”

“Yes,” you breathed, watching closely as he plunged his long finger into his last knuckle and you felt that yummy tightness of being filled up. He softly stroked along your walls, pushing in and pulling his fingers back as he looked from your eyes to your wet pussy and the mess you were making on his fingers.

“I need to tell you something else. Something Tyler told me because I think it’s only fair you know what he said. And I want to make sure it’s true. Okay?”

You nodded as he continued the languid pressing of his fingers inside of you.

“Said you liked being choked. Is that right?”

You blinked and nodded, “Well… yeah. I mean, I haven’t ever been so I don’t know but I wanted to see if I liked it. I think I will.”

He nodded, “And you want to be spit on? In your mouth?”

You let out a shaky breath and nodded, “On my tongue. And here,” you moved your hand down to where Harry was pumping his fingers inside of you.

“Oh yeah? Like this?”

You watched as he pulled his fingers from your opening and gathered saliva on his tongue before gripping your thighs and tilting your hips up. He spat over you, the warm spray of his spit landing on your labia and the space over your entrance had you moaning and lifting so you could see it better as he smeared the liquid under his digits and then pushed it inside of you, continuing to fuck you with his fingers.

“Yes. Just like that…” You looked at his face in awe as he leaned across and grabbed the back of your neck with his free hand.

“Open your mouth. Stick your tongue out.”

He tilted your neck back and your lips drew open wide, your tongue slipping past your mouth before you felt the drizzle of his saliva coating your tongue and then he pressed his mouth over yours softly before sitting back and letting go of your neck, his fingers still fucking into you slowly.

You were already panting, frazzled, burning hot, desperate. He could see it. The change in you. The sudden shift in the way you were breathing, your eyes, your lips… everything told him you wanted more.

“Did you like that?” You could hear the wet sound of your pussy being fingered by the man who just spit in your mouth. The first man to ever do so. Your brain was turning to mush but you managed to nod your head in response.

“And you want to try anal sex too? True?”

You swallowed thickly. You wanted to be honest with him so you were, “I’ve used toys on myself so I know I like it. Just never had anyone do it to me.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed at you and he licked his lips, “What kind of toys, Y/n?”

You moaned when he stroked against something that made your insides tingle, “Dildo. I also have a plug I like to wear when I… play with myself.”

“When you masturbate?”

You nodded and then he applied his thumb over your clit and you dropped your mouth wide.

“Do you use a vibrator? Dildo?”

You sucked in a deep breath and tried to keep yourself calm but his fingers were magic, “Both. I like… oh god…” you closed your eyes and breathed at the sensation he was giving you, “I use the plug and then masturbate with a dildo, push it in and I can feel the plug pressing it… ooohh mmm…” you moaned and rolled your hips up.

“That’s good, Y/n. So good for me, honey,” you could hear the change in his voice. He sounded quite ruttish himself. “I like all those things too. If you want them, I’ll give them to you. Okay? That is if you want more after today.”

You nodded and continued to gasp in between pants as he hastened his fingers, his knuckles thwacking into you harder.

Suddenly he’d pulled his fingers out of you and you felt his hands at the top of the waistband of your panties, “These are very pretty but I need them gone because I’m gonna eat your pussy now. Sound good, Y/n?”

He kept his eyes on yours as you nodded and peeped out a yes.

The silk and lacy fabric was tossed into your room faster than you could wrap your brain around when he was crawling himself down until his mouth was inches from your cunt.

You watched him carefully as he focused his gaze on yours, “This what you want, Y/n? Want your ex’s daddy? Yeah?”

The guttural moan that fell from your lips when he said it filled your bedroom, “Yes. I want it.”

Now you knew he’d said daddy to get some kind of reaction from you. You certainly always thought of him as such regardless, but with him on your bed in your bedroom with your pussy wet and on display for him it all felt so intense. So raw.

“I know you do. Who’s gonna keep you satisfied in bed, sweet girl? Tell me who you want doing this to you,” he smeared his fingers up and down your labia, pushing your slick around and painting your pussylips and clit with arousal.

“You. I want you to do it.”

His pink tongue poked out from his lips to wet his mouth, “That’s right. You want Daddy to take care of you. Yeah?” His brows raised at you.

You whimpered and tossed your neck back when he pressed his tongue over your clit and then removed it in a cruel tease, “Yes!”

“Who’s gonna take good care of you, honey? Tell me. I wanna hear you say it.”

You popped your eyes open and looked at him, hovering over your cunt with an evil grin set on his face. You knew what he wanted to hear.

“You’re gonna take care of me… Daddy. You.”

He moaned and immediately ducked down to kiss your clit into his mouth and then licked upward from your entrance, “Good girl,” he spoke as he split your labia with his tongue and found your clit, wrapping his lips around you and began to eat you alive. It felt like that. A man, starved, devouring your soft flesh and wet bits.

You could only let out breathy pants and whiny moans as he worked your pussy like no one ever had. Tongue and lips and hot breath over your core… wide open mouth sucking you in… You let out a garbled moan when he pushed two fingers back inside of you. Your arms and legs were jelly and each time he looked at you it reminded you that this wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t just one of your fantasies. You were getting eaten out by your ex-boyfriend’s dad.

The sound of slippery fingers pressing wetly into your body was lined with slurps and sucks as he used his free hand to hold your right thigh in place.

“Oh my god!” You yelped and pushed yourself up by your elbows to watch as he flicked his tongue back and forth over your clit before he flattened it and carved a naughty route around your wet button. He alternated between the slow slide of his tongue around your collection of nerves and pressing over it in meaningful flicks as his fingers pumped into you and glided over your front wall, dipping into your g-spot.

The combination of his fingers and his mouth was exactly what you needed. What you’d been craving.

You laid back into the bed when it was too much to keep yourself up to watch and you heard him puff out a laughed breath against you, “Feel good? This what you wanted?”

A whimper was pushed from your lungs as you gasped, “Fuck. Yes!”

It was like your body was slowly sizzling and cooking, rendering out juices and softening, gradually becoming fork tender. You were sure that once he was done snacking on your pussy you’d be nothing but a slippery puddle on your bed.

You felt as if your body was not your own as Harry worked you with his mouth and fingers. You gave in to him completely as you slid your shaky hands down to his head and felt his hair between your fingers.

And it wasn’t just good. It didn’t just feel satisfying. It felt like something beyond what you could describe. It had your insides churning and liquifying as your brain turned to a mushy mess of need and ache.

“Oh!” You cried out as that familiar tingle spread over your core and through your tummy. The sound of your moans set Harry off as he began to press his tongue harder onto your clit, slipping his tongue back and forth and curling his fingers against your front wall.

You could feel the wetness spread to your ass which just made you feel hotter… you knew it was a mix of his spit and your own arousal dripping down to your anus and then to your comforter.

But then Harry removed his mouth and you peeked down at him as he placed the pads of his fingers over your clit and circled as he spat on you again, but this time lower, under the spot his fingers were stuffed and you felt it on your ass as you began to tremble from his fingers inside of you and the ones on your clit.

He moved his fingers from your clit and looked up at you quickly as lowered his hand to your anus and poked at your empty hole with his middle finger, “I can tell you’re about to come, Y/n. You ready for this, baby?”

You whined and nodded, “Yes, Daddy.”

He grinned at you calling him Daddy and then slowly pressed his finger into your ass, his other hand still stroking his fingers inside of your pussy, lifting the slightest so he could get a good look at how he was stuffing you with his digits.

The moment he’d gotten his middle finger tucked deep into your bum you let out a strange gasp and then he brought his mouth back to your clit.

It was the perfect trifecta that had you quivering and wetly mumbling nonsense into your room. Not something you’d ever even imagined, even in your wildest dreams. To have a man fingering your ass with one hand, fucking his fingers into your pussy with his other, and slurping on your clit with his mouth.

You convulsed and your thighs shook violently as you tugged at his hair tightly. You weren’t you in that very moment. You were just some being who was at the mercy of another as he orchestrated your orgasm like he already knew how you were going to respond. Like he knew better than you did.

Having anything tucked into your ass while you were masturbating was always a guarantee for an intense orgasm. But having Harry’s finger pressing into you and his slippery mouth working over your clit like it was just did something else. Something primitive and innate.

He was going into your pussy so hard your butt was lifted off the bed and you were flopping and squirming as your release hit you like a hammer. You felt it in your jaw and your heart, your ribs were expanding and contracting as you sucked in as much air as you could before crying out loudly.

You had no control of any of your limbs or the way your pussy clenched and spasmed over his fingers. You weren’t sure what you were saying or if real words were even coming out of your mouth. Your mind was blurry and you were beholden to the way Harry was manipulating you with his fingers and his tongue.

Moments went by where you were sure you were unconscious. You’d lost yourself for a moment in blurry bliss but then you heard his deep voice cooing at you. His words weren’t registering but his voice brought you back slowly.

You threw your arm over your eyes as you panted for oxygen, chest rising and falling violently. You had no power over the way your legs were still trembling, but then you felt Harry’s big hands gently rubbing up and down your thighs.

“There we go… just relax, baby,” he spoke softly, trying to settle you and bring you back with small squeezes, fingers indenting into your skin and thumbs gliding along your muscles.

You felt him wrap a hand around your wrist and lift your arm from your face, “Let me see you. Look at me, Y/n.”

You slowly blinked your eyes opened to see him leaning over you. His hair was a mess from how you’d yanked at his roots and he was flushed with dark pupils as he grinned at you, “So pretty. Feel better now?”

You nodded and sighed as he adjusted his position and fell to the bed next to you, pulling you into his arms.

“We’ll just lie here for a minute. Talk a bit. Okay? Want you to come down a little. Get your bearings.” His delicate touch on your temple, the pad of his thumb rubbing at your skin had you swooning. This man was too good.

“Okay,” you drew your hand up to his shoulder and smiled.

“I’ll make you something to eat after we’re done here if you don’t mind me rummaging through your kitchen. Is that okay?”

“You don’t have to do that, Harry. I can make something–“

“So does that mean you don’t want me going through your fridge?”

“No. I don’t care if you go through my fridge,” you laughed, “I just meant I can do it.”

Harry grinned at you, “Yeah but you didn’t do it before I came over and we need to make sure you eat. So it’s settled. I’ll make you something. But first,” he ran his fingers down the skin on your cheek to the edge of your mouth, “I wanted to try one more thing. Something you told me you liked when we were in the pool that night.”

You kept your eyes on his and when his lips pulled up into a devilish grin you understood what he meant before he even said it, making your own lips tug upward.

“You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?”

You nodded, still grinning back at him.

His thumb trailed over your bottom lip before pressing down on it, making you open up for him as he smushed his digit into your mouth and over your tongue where you closed your lips and sucked.

He watched you suckle at his digit and pull at it with your lips, “It’s something else I can’t stop dreaming of. Imagining you on your knees with my cock down your throat. And I have no qualms about making you gag either, honey. Make you drool and choke on it. I’ll take it easy on you tonight, though.”

You kept sucking on his thumb as you hummed and nodded, your eyes bobbing from his lips to his pretty eyes as he spoke.

He slowly slid his thumb from your lips and watched your saliva follow his digit as he pulled it away. He pushed himself to sit up and pulled you with him. His hands clutched the bottom hem of your t-shirt, “We’re gonna get you naked. Might get a little messy. Okay?”

“Okay.” You felt like your voice was small and far away as he dragged the fabric up your torso and off your head. The moment your shirt was gone his finger brushed up your skin to your bra, which matched the panties that were lying somewhere on your floor.

You watched his face as he reached around and unhooked your bra clasp, “This is pretty, Y/n. You were so sweet to think of me when you dressed before I came over,” he spoke lowly as your bra fell off your shoulders and was pushed to the side before he cupped your nude tits in his hands, “But I like this a lot better.”

He ducked down and wrapped his lips over your nipple as he kneaded and squeezed the other. You gasped at the harsh tug he gave you and you ran your fingers into his hair and arched your back into him. He continued licking and sucking until he’d gotten both sides. Pulling at your nipples and then licking the spot, the cool air drawing chills over your skin.

The attention he gave your body was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. You were floating and your heart was pounding and your body was on fire.

When he pulled away you watched him get off your bed. He kept his eyes on you and your body as he unbuttoned his shirt. Every button revealing more of his masculine build, dark tattoos, him.

And you’d seen all of him before. Not his dick, not directly, but you knew it was nice. The glimpses you caught as he was naked in the pool with you told you all you needed to know.

He shrugged his shirt off onto the floor and then you noted the bulky lump under his pants. He sighed as he unbuttoned his pants and then began to pull them down his hips and his thighs. You wouldn’t take your eyes off the spectacle. You already knew his body was insane. But knowing that you were in the midst of a sexual encounter with him and that body felt surreal.

His boxer briefs hugged tightly to his erect cock and you kept your eyes on it as he pushed those down his strong thighs. When he stood upright after getting his briefs off you slid from the bed and got to your knees, as if by some invisible force. You didn’t even make the conscious decision to kneel in front of him and sit back on your calves with your eyes dragging over the healthy cock attached to the man standing in front of you.

Healthy. Sure. You could see that much. All of him was strong and healthy. Virile. But it was big. Thick, long, pretty. You hated that a small section of your brain compared him with Tyler instantly. But you couldn’t help it. It was stunning and it was just yet another thing that Tyler lacked that his father made up for.

“Look at you. Didn’t even need to tell you what to do,” he ran a hand over the back of your head, petting you like you were a well-behaved puppy.

You looked up at him with rounded eyes and parted lips. You couldn’t wait to get him in your mouth.

Harry smiled proudly down at you as he gripped his shaft and slowly stroked himself in front of your face. He watched your eyes dart from his cock to his face as you waited for him to tell you what to do next.

“Who’s cock do you wanna suck, honey?” His deep voice penetrated your skin and you were simply vibrating from everything he did and said.

“Your cock, Daddy.” You kept your eyes connected to his as you answered him. Your mouth was already pooling with saliva at the anticipation of tasting him. Of feeling him in your mouth.

His knuckles ghosted down your cheekbone with his free hand as he continued pumping his cock with his other. His tip dangerously close to your lips.

You wiggled in your spot and swallowed as you blinked up at him and he watched you wait patiently for him to start. Because he was in charge. And you knew he was.

“Go on then. Take a little sip,” he smeared the bit of precome on his tip over your lips and you nearly fainted as you grasped around his hand over his cock and closed your eyes, parting your mouth. You stuck out your tongue, cupping the underside of his head before you wrapped your lips around his tip and it was heaven. To have your mouth and tongue on him. Knowing he was going to give you another experience you’d always longed for.

You suckled and curved your tongue under him, feeling his smooth skin in your mouth as you looked up at him before attempting to go deeper.

He was glorious standing above you with his eyes on your face as you sucked him. His abs and the dark tattoos, muscled pecs, broad shoulders… All you wanted to do was choke on him. Give him the best head he’d ever gotten, feel him pushing down your throat, and hear him groaning.

He moved his hand away from his cock as you began to use your palm as an extension of your mouth, warming yourself up to take him deeper.

“You gonna slide down further, honey? Want to know what it feels like?” He softly placed his hand at the back of your head as you bobbed over him, your saliva coating him as you spread it with your hand over his shaft.

Bringing your lips back to his tip you swirled your tongue around his frenulum and pulled back, continuing to pump him with your hand in long strokes, “I want to make you feel good. I’ve never done it like this before. I’m worried about my teeth hurting you…”

He grinned down at you and rubbed your head, “That’s a good sign that you don’t want to hurt me,” he chuckled. “We’ll take it slow. Get some practice. See how deep you can handle it, okay?”

You nodded and puckered your lips to kiss his cockhead and then pressed devoted kisses down his shaft and back up to his crown before wrapping your lips back around him and cradling the bottom of his cock with your tongue as you slid down further and back to his tip.

His gravelly sigh egged you on. It sounded like he was enjoying what you were doing and that was exactly what you wanted.

You forced your eyes to look up at him so you would watch his face and his brows were already stitched together as he watched you on his cock.

“Bring your hand down to my balls, sweetheart. Squeeze gently and then I want to feel you push your throat down further on me. Okay? Let’s see how deep you can manage.”

You moaned as you moved your hand from his shaft to his scrotum and palmed at them before pressing your hands around them with care. He moaned as his eyes stayed on you.

Sucking in a deep breath through your nose you forced your mouth down further, the thick girth filling your mouth then his tip curving against the roof of your mouth and slipping against your tonsils.

You coughed around him and felt the urge to gag as you pulled back and then repeated, trying to get lower and keep him in your throat longer.

It took a few tries. You’d get as low as possible and feel the sting of your sinuses awakening tears in your eyes as you gurgled over him and pulled back for air.

On your fourth try, lips smearing down his shaft and drool wetting your chin you heard him moan loudly, “Fuck, baby. You’re doing so good. Gonna get you used to this so I can fuck your mouth like you wanted. I think you can do better, though. Need help?”

You felt his hand grip the back of your head as he asked if you needed help and you moaned over his cock and pulled back, still kneading his balls softly in your palm. Sucking in a deep breath of air you nodded, tears on your face already, being the amateur that you were at deep throating, “Yeah. Push me down. My natural urge is to keep backing up once I gag but I want more of you in my throat.”

Harry’s plush pink lips raised in a grin, “Okay, baby. We'll practice this. I’m gonna push you down slowly okay? Want you to close your eyes and open wide, keep your tongue out, and take in a big breath before I do it. Yeah? Then pinch my thigh if you need me to let go. But you’re gonna need to hold your breath for a little bit because I’m gonna hold you down as far as we can get you today. Ready?”

You took a deep breath and nodded, “Yes, Daddy.”

Harry sucked in a sharp breath at how you’d so easily fallen into calling him Daddy as he adjusted his hold on your head before helping you back onto his cock.

You opened your mouth and kept your tongue out like he told you and you felt his velvety skin slip over your tongue slowly until his tip was sliding against your tonsils and you felt that instinctive gag reflex begin to take over. But he pushed in past your tonsils and you squeezed your eyes shut as you felt him curve down your throat, inch by inch as you gulped around him automatically and gagged until you were without air. He moaned loudly as your throat constricted around his tip and he pressed your head down until your nose was against his pelvis and your lips were just grazing at the base of his shaft.

“Oh fuck… just like that baby… Daddy’s gonna teach you everything you need to know. So fucking good,” you felt him thrust shallowly, pushing his tip in and pulling back slightly as he began to gently fuck your face.

You held your breath and felt his wide cock sliding in and out of your throat as he groaned and massaged the back of your head lovingly. You wanted more. Wanted to give him whatever he wanted. Loved how he was praising you and enjoying your mouth, using it how he liked.

“Shit, Y/n… Look so pretty like this for me… Oh my god…” his voice was shaky as he grunted his words.

Suddenly he pulled back until his tip was at your lips and you coughed a gasp, inhaling air as you felt your saliva drip down your chin.

“Open up, honey, keep that mouth wide open…” Harry stood over you, his hand still at the back of your head as he began to stroke himself, his tip slipping over your tongue and his guttural moans had your heart pumping wildly as you peeked up at him through the tears in your eyes.

His face was twisted up as he panted with his arm flexing as he pumped himself against your tongue. You’d long forgotten about his balls as you gripped his sturdy thighs and blinked up at him with your tongue out.

“Oh shit… fuck…” he looked down at you and your tongue as he felt his balls squeeze against his body, “Gonna come, baby… where do you want it,” his words were rushed and breathy.

“In my mouth, Daddy. Want to taste it,” you spoke quickly before opening your mouth wide again stuck your tongue out to cradle his tip and he choked out a loud moan as he began to come on your tongue, a bit getting on your lips before you pushed in closer to keep his tip in your mouth as he fucked his cock with his big palm, his knees bent slightly to get the angle right.

His string of groans and pants had you giving him an open-mouthed grin as he drained himself into your mouth and on your tongue.

Harry’s chest heaved as he emptied every last drop and then he looked down at you again, pressing his tip against your tongue over the bit of come you still had in your mouth.

You closed your lips around his tip and sucked making him hiss. He cupped your jaw and looked down at you smugly before pulling his cock from your lips, “Swallow it all down, Y/n.”

You gulped him down and kept your eyes pinned to his.

“Let me see that tongue. Show Daddy you didn’t waste anything.”

You stuck your tongue out and angled your head back so he could see down your throat and he rubbed a thumb over your cheekbone, “Gonna be so fucking good baby. It’s only gonna feel better the more practice we get. Blew me away, Y/n,” he grinned as he helped you stand up and then pulled you into his arms, his mouth finding yours.

You could feel his chest rising and falling as he was still recovering from his orgasm. Your cheeks burned hot at all the praise and confidence he gave you.

He parted from the kiss and ran his hands up your arms, “Let’s go get cleaned up and then make something to eat.”

That was something else you’d never experienced. Having a man help you clean up and touching you after a sexual encounter. You were used to Tyler rolling over and letting you clean yourself up. Good luck ever getting him to hold you after. It was like he got his and that was all he needed.

But Harry spoke to you about what you might want to eat as he wetted a clean washcloth you pulled out from your cabinet and held you against your bathroom counter as he dabbed your thighs and sensitive skin on your pussy and then last to your backside as if it were second nature. As if he’d done it to you a million times before.

And you thought you were going to settle down and get your hormones in check after giving him that blow job (which had turned you on so much your vision was blurry). You figured the cleanup process would be the furthest thing from sexy but you’d been wrong.

Maybe it was how attentive he was with you, or the way he held you in place as he spoke so nonchalantly about what you had in your refrigerator as you both stood naked in your small bathroom. Maybe it was his gaze over your body as he made sure you were taken care of and cleaned up properly.

Whatever it was, it only made your heart wallop in your chest and your pussy stay wet despite his attempts at getting you wiped.

And he knew it too. You could see the smug smile as he kept wiping at you but part of you thought he was doing it on purpose in a way. Bumping the rag against your clit might not have been an accident. Perhaps it was to keep you wanting more of him.

He handed you your shorts and t-shirt to slip on as he pulled his boxer briefs up his legs.

Harry got to work in your kitchen. It was just a simple thing for you to eat. Eggs and toast with butter which all came together rather quickly. He made some for himself as well.

It was quite something watching a man cook in your kitchen. Especially when it was Harry. His back was clear of tattoos, but you could see them on his ribs and arms as he pushed the spatula under the eggs to flip them. His lats flexing and butt filling out his briefs in a way Tyler could only wish for.

But when he turned around with two plates and brought them to your table (where you were already seated) his front was something made of dreams. His body had you in a choke hold, even at nearly twice your age the man was more attractive than maybe anyone you’d ever laid eyes on.

Even the front of his crotch where his natural bulge sat was pretty. The way the elastic band of his underwear hugged his hips, his belly button…

“One would think you hadn’t just had an orgasm, Y/n.” He grinned. You’d been caught staring at his body. You couldn’t help it.

You laughed, “You’re just really good-looking.”

Harry sat down after placing both plates on the table, taking a big bite of toast, and chewed before responding, “And you’re just really gorgeous,” his eyes trailed down your frame and to your thighs. Even clothed you felt as if he was looking at your naked body.

You swallowed down your bite of egg and laughed through your nose, putting your hand up to cover your mouth as you shook your head.

“Why are you shaking your head no?”

“I don’t know. Feels weird to just accept a compliment like that.”

“What do you mean? Did my son never tell you how breathtaking you are?”

You looked down at your plate and shook your head, “Well… no,” before looking back into his eyes, “Not really. He seemed to be annoyed by me most of the time.”

Harry hummed as he looked you over and then patted his lap, “Come here.”

You bit your lip and pushed yourself out of your chair to sit in his lap like he wanted. Harry adjusted his thighs to accommodate you comfortably and pulled your back against his chest placing a hand on the top of your thigh, “He never treated you like you deserved.” His thumb smoothed over the skin on the outside of your thigh, “I’m glad you broke up with him. Surprised you put up with it for so long.”

You smiled to yourself quietly and felt flustered. Harry was such a change from what you’d been used to. He was sweet and it seemed so genuine. But the way he took control in bed and gave you a taste of what you really wanted… Honestly, it felt like he liked you more than his son who you dated for almost two years.

Harry pushed your legs to drape off the side of his thighs so he could look at you as he picked up his fork to take a bite and chew. You smiled at him and took another bite. You were hungrier than you thought and Harry had made the perfect over-easy eggs just like you liked.

“You believe that right? That you deserved so much better.”

You blinked your eyes as you looked at him. His face was so close to yours and his lap was warm under your bottom, “I think I knew I deserved better. It’s just easier said than done. But it’s over now. So…” you shrugged.

Harry nodded as he chewed the last bite of his toast bringing his hand up to your face. You loved that he seemed to continue giving you soft touches as if he wanted to keep letting you know, even nonverbally, that you were special. And it did make you feel special. Made you feel giddy. You were sure he could feel your heart pounding.

“Well don’t ever let anyone take you for granted like that.” You could still feel his thumb dragging over your thigh.

You finished your bite as he moved his hand from your face and asked a question you’d wanted to ask since you stepped into the kitchen, “Will you stay over?”

You didn’t know what had possessed you to ask this man to stay the night. Why you felt like you had to ask. Why you felt like you didn’t want him to just leave. Perhaps you were emboldened by the closeness of him. The way he was touching you and looking at you. You guessed it was because he made you feel a little more confident.

Harry smiled as he looked down your mouth and back to your eyes, “You want me to stay?”

You widened your eyes and let your gaze fall away from his face to the wall behind him and shrugged, “If you wanted.” Now the shame and embarrassment of rejection began to rise up your spine. Of course, he’d say no. What more would he need from you?

You heard Harry sigh and then he took your chin in his hand and moved your head to look at him, “I would love to stay the night with you. I just need to warn you,” he cleared his throat as you watched him intently, “If I’m in your bed next to you all night I’m going to have trouble keeping my hands off of you. Kind of like right now,” he smiled. “Is that going to bother you?”

You began to grin wider, “No. It won’t bother me. That’s kind of what I wanted.”

“Yeah? You wanted my hands on you?”

You nodded, keeping the smile on your face.

Both of your plates were empty as Harry put his hands on your hips and pulled your side flush to his chest, “Want me to fuck you, Y/n? Is that what you want?” His words were spoken against your ear.

You nodded and turned to look at him.

“Okay. You just need to be taken care of, don’t you?” He placed a hand on your jaw, his thumb rubbing down the side of your neck, “Poor thing was mistreated for too long. I’m gonna make sure you get everything you need, Y/n.”

You kept nodding as your brows pulled together. You didn’t realize how much you needed it. How much you’d been missing out on but Harry could see it. He recognized how unappreciated you’d been.

“I think you see it now, don’t you?”

“Yes. I think I do.”

Harry’s plush lips pressed into the space on your neck just under your jaw and you dropped your mouth open, tilting your neck back for him. You felt his arm wrap around your front as he slowly worked his mouth down your neck and then to the front.

When a moan rattled from your throat Harry placed his palm on the back of your neck and smudged his lips over yours before you opened your mouth to him.

You lifted your arm to bring it over his shoulder and twisted in to face him. You felt Harry’s fingers slip under your cotton t-shirt, fingers gliding up your skin until he found your breasts and ran his palms over your nipples.

The longer he played with your breasts, ghosting his fingers and knuckles over them, the more desperate you grew as his tongue pressed into yours. Chills rose over your skin and you shifted again, trying to get closer but it was impossible.

Harry parted from the kiss, “Let’s get you in bed under the covers. You’ve got goosebumps all over.”

You puffed out a laugh. The raised skin was definitely not from being chilled and you knew he knew it when he squeezed your tit and smirked down at you. Regardless, you wanted to get back in bed with him because after sucking him off you were quite turned on. No. You were very turned on. In fact, when you sat down in Harry’s lap you could tell your shorts were getting a little damp on the inside, and now that you’d shifted over his thigh on his boxer briefs, as you slid off his lap, you could see the small wet patch you’d made.

Harry kept his hands on your shoulders as he walked behind you to your bedroom and then he pulled your blankets back for you to climb in. You watched him get in next to you and pull the blankets over both of you before he dragged you against his chest and wrapped his arms around you.

The slow movement of his lips against yours and the dab of his tongue over your tongue felt like all you needed. The intimacy in the kiss was almost therapeutic. You’d been starved of affection, of spontaneity and Harry was just dousing you in it.

When you felt his hand travel down your backside and push underneath your shorts he palmed over your bottom softly before dragging his fingers down a little more and that’s when he felt how wet you were.

He smiled against your mouth, “Love how wet you get for me. Such a treat,” he ran his fingers through your folds and then pushed at your shorts to get them off.

You hurriedly helped him push them down your legs and then pulled your t-shirt off as Harry dragged his boxer briefs down his legs and kicked them off somewhere in your bed.

When you rolled to your side to face him you lowered your hand to his cock, already half hard as he pulled you in by the back of your neck to bring your mouth against his once again.

You stroked his shaft as he pushed his fingers through your folds, both moaning between kisses.

Shifting your hips you lifted your thigh to lay it over his and urged yourself toward him to move your cunt along his shaft. Harry hissed when he felt you wetting his skin.

Suddenly he pushed you to your back and he fit himself between your open thighs, taking your wrists and pushing them down to the mattress over your head, “You gotta be careful when you slide your wet pussy over my cock like that. Next time you do that I’m just gonna split you right open and fuck into you without asking first. But I’m trying to be gentleman tonight, Y/n.”

You screwed up your face and moaned, “That’s all I want, Daddy…”

Harry groaned dragging his shaft over you and you tilted your hips up so he could just press in and put you out of your misery.

Harry chuckled and let go of your wrists as he sat back and took his cock in his palm, painting himself up and down your drippy cunt, “You on birth control?”

You nodded, “Yes.”

“Want Daddy’s cock inside of you?”

You moaned another yes and bucked your hips toward him.

The grin on his face was almost sinister as he took your hands and pulled them down to the insides of your knees pressing your thighs back against your chest, “Hold yourself open like this for me.”

You gripped the back of your knees and kept yourself angled and spread for him, your knees pressed to either side of your tits when you felt him dragging his cock through your crease slowly, his eyes moving from your face to your pussy.

“Need some relief, Y/n?” He teasingly pressed his ruddy tip to your entrance, pushing slightly before sliding his cock upward to bump into your clit.

“Please, Daddy!”

That sinister grin widened as he lined himself back up to your hole, “Look at me. Want you to pay close attention to who’s fucking you.”

The slow press of his fat head through your slippery muscle had you both dropping your mouths open.

“Ohhh…” you gasped as you felt him sliding through your insides and then pull back to his tip. He nudged his way in again slowly, finding himself deeper every time he pushed his way in. You were wrapped around his cock tightly as he continued rearing himself back and then pushing forward, letting your body get used to his girth inch by inch.

The moment you felt him tucked in deep, pressing into your cervix you wiggled under him and whined as he stilled his hips, keeping himself lodged inside of you as his cock twitched in satisfaction.

He brought his hand up to your face and squeezed your cheeks, making your lips open wider and you automatically stuck your tongue out as he leaned over your face and spat into your mouth.

You rolled your eyes into the back of your head and moaned as you swallowed his saliva down your throat and then you felt him shift, his palms at the back of your thighs, pressing you down into the bed as he pulled out to his tip and then rutted his hips forward, burying himself into the hilt with one swift thrust. And then he did it again and again until you could hear the slap of his skin against yours as the bedsprings bounced loudly in time with his motions.

Harry watched his cock disappear into your cunt and then up to the sight of your tits bouncing every time he slammed into you.

Your moans were gurgled as you struggled to make use of your voice with how deep he was penetrating you and how hard he was going at it.

Your slick walls were so warm and inviting, so perfect for his cock to fuck into. He couldn’t believe his son wouldn’t want to give you what you wanted. Who would throw away the chance to have you the way he was getting to?

“God, look at you, baby…” Harry panted as he slowed his hips and ground into you sharply, “Perfect pussy for Daddy’s cock. Needs stuffed full like this, yeah?” He continued circling his hips against yours, his cock reaching into your guts, the wet sound lewd and dirty.

You looked at his face as he pulled back slightly and then pushed in again, pasting his hips against yours, and leaning over you.

He pulled your hands away from the backs of your knees, and urged your legs down, your feet hitting the mattress as he thrust, his thighs flexing as he worked himself in and out slowly, “How does it feel, baby?”

The new angle provided your clit with the much-needed friction you craved as his pelvis rubbed over you.

“Feels so good. You’re so deep…” you breathed your words.

Harry’s hand found your jaw and his thumb swiped over your lips as you opened and wrapped your mouth around his digit and began to suck immediately.

His deep plunges didn’t let up as he looked down at you with your lips around his thumb. He hadn’t intended for you to take it in your mouth. He just wanted to touch your pouty bottom lip as he fucked you but he loved how eager you were to suck on his thumb.

He let out a shaky breath as he pressed his balls against you and moved his hand away, “Fuck baby… Need all your holes filled don’t you?”

The squelch of his cock breaching your cunt was answer enough. You were so wet and desperate for him that he could feel it and see it in your face as you nodded with your brows scrunched.

His hand moved to your neck, fingers pressing tentatively into the sides of your throat as he rocked into you.

Your mouth parted and you let out a guttural moan at the feel of his hand on your neck. He wasn’t squeezing hard but it felt so hot knowing he could hurt you but wouldn’t.

“You do like that…” he breathed, the front of his thighs against the back of yours as he languidly plunged in deep, “Fuck, baby… you might just be perfect for me.”

Your sob came out choked as you clasped your hands around his forearm that held you down by your neck. You wanted to respond to him but all that you could manage was mangled gulps.

And your head began to spin when your body gave in to him. You handed yourself over completely to his whim as you looked into his eyes. All you wanted to do was to make him feel good, make him want more and more and more.

The gushy wetness of your pussy being fucked into gave Harry a good idea of how much you were enjoying him. How good his cock felt inside of you.

“Is that the spot, right there?” He moaned as he slid his dick through your cunt and felt the bump along your front wall, his tip pressing into it with each pass.

You gurgled as your lips gaped and he squeezed a little more, “It is, isn’t it? Daddy’s gonna learn all your yummy spots, inside and out. Yeah? You gonna let me do that, honey? Gonna let me stick my cock in every one of your little holes and find out what makes you tick?”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head again as you began to shake. You’d never been choked before and even though you could tell Harry was taking it easy on you, it felt like floating in fluffy clouds and tasting rich chocolate cream on your tongue. All of your senses were heightened, your heart hammered in your chest as your pussy fluttered around him nearing your release.

“Oh that feels good, doesn’t it? Listen to how wet you are… the way your pussy sounds taking Daddy’s cock.”

He loosened his grip on your neck and you gasped before moaning loudly, “Yes… please, Daddy… you feel so good… I need you…”

Harry groaned as his thrusts grew sloppy, “Yeah? Gonna be a good girl and come all over my cock? Come for Daddy, baby…” His words were panted and strained as he spoke.

His hips were glued to yours as he rutted himself inward, your clit smearing against him as he kept his balls pressed against your ass and you began to unravel under him with a loud moan.

He coughed out a groan as he watched you lose it under him with a loud cry and he gently constricted his fingers around your neck as you clenched over him.

He could feel you vibrating and gushing around him and he released your neck, placing his palms on the mattress next to your shoulders, and began to pound into you, fucking you through your orgasm as he moaned and cooed at you.

Long strokes of his thick cock, as you spasmed around him, sent you into outer space. The sound of wet sex and your creaking bed frame sounded in the room as you cried out.

Harry watched your pretty face as he railed into you with sloppy thrusts. But the moment your cries turned into soft moans and your tensed muscles began to relax as you came down from your high Harry slid his length out of your cunt and pumped his cock, spurting warm come on your tummy and your tits with a deep moan.

Your chest heaved as you watched his arm flex with each stroke of his cock and his abs clenched in his orgasm. You were still floaty and buzzy but you wouldn’t miss watching his face as he milked his cock, draining himself over your skin.

“Fuck…” he breathed as he watched his come paint stripes over your breasts.

It’d been too long since he’d had sex with anyone and you were quite the special treat. Young and pretty with a kinky side he didn’t find in most people he tried dating after his ex-wife. Even she wasn’t that kinky.

But you… You were perfect. He could give you what you wanted. Could show you things most men your age wouldn’t know about.

Harry let go of his cock as he breathed heavily and cupped your face, “You okay?”

You nodded and gave him a soft smile, your eyes lulling open and shut, “Yes, Daddy…” you whispered.

Harry grinned at how cute you were and pushed himself up and off the bed, “Stay right here angel. I’ll be right back.”

The next thing you knew he was wiping you up and kissing your arm and up your neck, “Such a good girl, Y/n.”

His soft words were like a tranquilizer. You could hardly keep your eyes open as he turned off your lamp and then climbed into bed behind you, pulling your back into his chest. All you knew was how warm his skin felt and how comforting his scent was as you sighed and allowed yourself to drift off in the calm of his embrace.

You had never slept so soundly in all your life. One moment you were dozing off and the next an alarm was going off and Harry was shifting behind you to tap his phone, making the noise stop abruptly.

You felt his mouth on your neck and then his whispered words were warm at the back of your ear, “I have to go, sweetheart.”

You groaned and pouted when you remembered it was Friday and you both had to work. In an ideal world, you’d have him stay all day in your bed with you. You pulled his arms tighter around your middle so he couldn’t get up.

You felt his chuckle bounce off your neck, “You're too cute. I don’t want to leave either but I have to. And you should get up too. It’s 7.”

Letting go of his arms he slid himself away from you and you sat up, feeling the slightest ache between your legs.

Reluctantly you stepped down from your bed with a frown and Harry tugged at your hand, pulling you toward him, “Don’t pout. If you want to see me again all you have to do is give me a ring. Yeah?” He raised his brows at you as you nodded.

“See? Pretty easy huh? Said your roommate’s out all weekend?” He smoothed his hands up and down your bare arms.

“Yeah,” you nodded and kept your eyes locked on his.

“Give me a smile, Y/n,” Harry smudged his thumb at the corner of your mouth and you slowly brought the edges of your lips up in a grin.

“There we go,” he gazed at your face, “We had fun. Didn’t we?”

“Yeah. That was fun,” you laughed, suddenly feeling shy.

Harry pressed his mouth to your cheek and then let you go as he picked up the clothes on your floor to dress himself. You slid your t-shirt on and watched him before following him out of your room toward your door.

He grinned at you, his hair was a mess and he had sleep lines on his face from being smushed into the pillow. You thought he looked so soft and sweet like this.

“You know what to do if you want to see me. Yeah?”

You nodded and smiled as he gave you a quick kiss before letting himself out your door.

A quiet squeal of glee fell from your mouth as you rushed to grab your cell phone. You pulled up your messages app and texted Harry right away.

Can you come over tonight?

PART 3

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amongemeraldclouds · 2 months

Text

Things I’ll Never Say

Why say things out loud when you can write them all down in a journal? No need to inconvenience everyone else with silly declarations of love that’s only guaranteed to break your heart. So what happens when your enemy - of all people - finds it?

Lorenzo Berkshire x Reader

“Is it that, or is it because you’re in love with me?”

Thanks to @thatdammchickennugget for the prompt. Here's my official entry for the Hogmarch challenge, prompt one. 1k words.

Author’s note: The way I screamed when this idea came to mind! Journaling is such a big part of my life, I’ll take any and every chance I can to incorporate it to my stories.

Indented text are journal entries.

Warning: Cursing, no use of y/n, slight angst but it’s kinda cute. Fluff express coming through!

✿ Masterlist

“Stop copying my notes!” I hiss at Lorenzo, moving my arm to cover my parchment.

“Come on, I missed class today. I need to catch up,” he says, tugging at the arm of my sweater.

“Go ask your friends,” I retort, moving my arm away from his grasp.

“You know they’re not in that class, just you,” he insists.

“Oh we’re not friends,” I deadpan.

“It won’t take long,” he tries again.

“If you weren’t busy sleeping around with everyone, Berkshire. You would have made it to class this morning.”

He leans in to my ear and whispers, “I’ll make it worth your while.”

I grab the nearest hardbound book and swing it in his direction. Thwack! It strikes his shoulder.

The librarian looks at us sternly. “Your final warning was just given five minutes ago. No noise in the library!” She points her finger to the exit, “You two, out!”

“Great. Thanks for that, Berkshire. Good luck with your notes.” My face gets hot with embarrassment as I gather my things and rush off to the exit.

Enzo spots a black leather bound journal in the area you just vacated. He takes it with him as he exits the library. She’s always writing in this notebook. I’m sure she won’t mind if I take a peek, I’ll give it back to her anyway.

He damn well knew you would mind. When he reaches a quiet corner of the hallway, he proceeds to turn the cover anyway.

I know, I know. I’m not supposed to like Lorenzo Berkshire. Why the fuck did I just draw a heart over the “i”! That’s it. I’m losing my mind! I can’t be caught liking the boy who spewed the word mudblood in my direction our first year. Like it’s my fault I was born into my family. And screw him okay, muggles are awesome. I can break my own heart with my misguided affections, but I’d rather die before I ever let him break my heart. So before I check myself into a mental asylum, I need to just say this somewhere. Anywhere. A last ditch effort to save my sanity.

He’s the intrusive thought I love to entertain in my head.

As a dare, he took off his shirt at the party. My toes curled. I pretended not to notice him.

I heard him laughing with his friends. I love the way it lit up his face.

I saw him enter his dorm hand in hand with a girl. I never wish to be her, another one night stand. Once would never be enough.

I nearly kissed him again.

He helped me pick up the pile of books I dropped at the library. He seemed kind and concerned. Ha! Who am I kidding?

I count down the hours until I see him again.

Maybe in another lifetime it wouldn’t matter: bloodlines, social status, and hierarchies. So unnecessary.

I noticed the veins in his arm at quidditch practice. I tried not to bite my lip. What must it be like to be wrapped in those arms?

And there he was again with his stupid hair breaking my stupid heart.

Enzo hears determined footsteps approaching and he shuts the journal, hiding it behind him.

“Fine, Berkshire,” I sigh when I reach him. “Here, take my notes,” I say, handing it out to him.

He quirks an eyebrow.

“Weren’t you so desperate to get them earlier?” I fold my arms. “I will not be part of the reason you fail in class.” I point at him, “you and your dumb ass can very well do it yourself. I have more important things to worry about.”

“Is it that, or is it because you’re in love with me?”

My brain short circuits, the fire freezing in my veins. How the hell does he know?

He smirks, pulling out a familiar black journal. My eyes widen.

“On second thought,” I say, stepping back. “It doesn’t matter,” I turn around and walk away. “Fail class for all I care.”

I’m yanked back when I feel Enzo’s grip on my wrist. “Wait.”

My heart thumps in my chest. Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit. He knows!

“I’m sorry,” he says. What? I turn back, my confused expression directed at him.

“That I called you a mudblood,” he explains. “I was a dumb ass when we were younger.”

“Finally, we agree on something,” I state, trying to mask the tremble in my voice.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you back then and I was prejudiced. Over the years, I enjoyed watching your passion for magic and studying. How you light up when you talk to your friends about a book you just read. And how you’re always the first to volunteer when someone needs help. You have this fire and warmth in you and I just need to be around it all the time. I’m reduced to being a moth to your flame and I don’t mind it at all.”

I blink, speechless.

He takes a step forward, voice softening. “Why do you think I tease you all the time?”

“Well how the fuck was I supposed to know?” The anger not quite there in my voice.

“I just wanted a chance to talk to you and I thought you hated me.” He brushes the hair from my face and cups my face. “Clearly, I was wrong.”

I roll my eyes, “Oh no, I do hate you.” I falter, “but maybe I kind of, just sort of, like you too.”

He grins. “It seems there are things we need to talk about. Will you go on a date with me?”

My heart stutters. “You already know my answer.”

He laughs, “stubborn as always. I’ll take that as a yes.” He pulls me in for a hug.

Oh. Being wrapped in his strong arms is even better than I imagined. I rest my head on his shoulder when a thought occurs to me.

“You’re sure this is not just some elaborate ploy for me to keep giving you my notes?”

He sighs, “of course not, just enjoy this moment."

He moves his mouth to my ear, "But if you do, I solemnly swear I will make it worth your while.”

I don't hit him this time.

✿ Masterlist

A/N: For those who get the Avril Lavigne title reference, here's a tight hug for you! ♡

I may or may not have also had a place where I wrote down love confessions for someone I couldn’t have. Some of those may or may not have been included in the journal entries.

Two fics published in one day? Who is she?

#hogmarch challenge #lorenzo berkshire x you #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire #enzo x reader #enzo berkshire imagine #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #hp fandom #slytherin boys #wizarding world #amongemeraldcloudswrites

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grandline-fics · 7 months

Note

hi! i just read all of your oneshots and they’re perfect, i’m in love. hoping it is okay to request something with zoro having a soft spot towards reader? he doesn’t even realize it a first, but since reader is somehow quiet and gentle (not weak though!) he starts to take note of small things to do/don’t do or notice their actions (ex: taking care o the crew) a lot more than others. thank you. <3

DESCRIPTION: Who knew you were Zoro’s soft spot? Apparently both of you are the last to know

WARNINGS: none, just pure fluff

CHARACTERS: Zoro

WORDS: 856

A/N: Thank you for your kind words and for this request! I hope it's to your liking. I've been feeling a little under the weather these past couple of days so some fluff was needed <3

MASTERLIST

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

It’s tiny things; little, practically meaningless things that are so easy to miss but they’re there. When you first joined the crew, your presence fell into the likes of his and Robin’s; strong but relatively quiet and easily looked passed if you wanted. You didn’t see the point in wasting energy needlessly and knew the value in waiting until letting yourself be known. Zoro unknowingly enjoyed that kind of calm you naturally brought and found himself gravitating towards it because it seemed even when he was in his own space you were still in his eye-line. In the beginning he found it a little strange that it kept happening, he knew you weren’t following him. Hell most of the times you were on the other side of the ship or talking with someone else so he cleared it as coincidence and thought nothing of it. As time went on, there was a lot he was putting down to mere coincidence.

When you were all exploring new islands it was purely happenstance that you two walked side by side. Neither of you were the type to bound about and race ahead without a cause for urgency. He found he didn’t get lost as easily when you were close. You always seemed to know the way to go. On one trip Brook had commented to Zoro how lucky he had been that you were there to talk to him at the right moment otherwise he would have kept walking towards a path that would have taken him towards a ravine. Because of your voice suddenly pulling him into conversation he’d kept the right track and avoided possibly injuring himself and getting a lecture from the others. Lucky right?

It was also luck of the draw that when eating or drinking off the ship, Zoro was sat at the table in such a way that his back blocked you mostly from view from any unwanted stares. It was never in a subconscious way to keep you from interacting with others but it was like another sense he had that he was able to tell when you just wanted to sit with the crew and enjoy your meal. It seemed to go both ways too in that regard. If women tried to approach and flirt with him you effortlessly had a way of making a joke to dissuade them and steer them in Sanji’s direction. Was any of it done out of jealousy, possessiveness of the other’s attention, or an overwhelming need to protect? Not in the least, it was just doing what needed to be done to help out a friend and fellow crew-mate.

On the Sunny it’s no different. It’s not even a second thought, his body just reacts without thinking. In the early, barely waking hours when he’s finished his night watch and is about to grab a quick snack before training he always pulls out a specific mug from the cabinet and sets it on the counter. It’s never for him and like clockwork you appear just as he’s finished drinking a glass of water. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes and stifling a small yawn you always offer him a small smile and greeting that is returned. You both pass each other, your only motivation is caffeine to see you through the last of the watch before everyone else is awake while he goes to the crow’s nest to train.

After all this time it’s never occurred to you to question why your mug is waiting for you when you rise. You don’t know why but it��s something that immediately makes your morning a little bit brighter. It’s also routine now that an hour or so after breakfast, you and Zoro both nap; him to rest between his training sessions and you to grab another couple hours after your night watch. Nami occasionally glances up from her charts to shake her head at your sleeping forms. Robin finds it adorable while Brook chuckles, nostalgic over youth and love’s first stages.

“Jeez they’re both so clueless.” Sanji grumbles, he’s accepted long ago that he doesn’t have a chance with you but is so infuriated that nothing has actually happened. He lost you to the swordsman who hasn’t even thought to make a move. Usopp grins and watches as you stir slightly in your sleep which in turn makes Zoro react before his body relaxes again. Currently he’s lying on his back with one hand tucked behind his head. While the other that’s draped over his chest, his fingers almost touching yours that are curled by your head as you sleep on your side.

From his spot on Sunny’s head, Luffy grins. “I don’t know. I think they do know, in their own way.” It’s the little, insignificant things that you both do for each other that are easy to miss and while a lot of little things add up into something bigger, none of it compares to the way that you and Zoro unknowingly look at each other at any given chance. Because that is something so big that no one else can ignore.

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x you #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #one piece fic #one piece imagines #one piece fanfiction #one piece scenario #one piece fluff #one piece requests

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mydearlybeloathed · 3 months

Text

𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐋 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍 ²

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: as promised, zoro finally returned to you... after three years at sea. there's much left to be said, but a rogue butler just might get in the way.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: opla!zoro x fem!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: swearing, use of Y/N, canon typical violence, fluff with a hint of angst

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: everytime you leave

series masterlist

Nami’s little ship taking on water was the least ideal occurrence possible. Yet, deep inside, Zoro found it incredibly funny to watch the orange haired girl scramble around all frustrated like this.

“Gecko Island,” said Nami, drawing Zoro out of his thoughts. She was hunched over her map with Luffy over her shoulder, per usual. “I think we’ll be able to make it before the ship sinks.”

Those words took longer to process than they should’ve, but Zoro couldn’t help it. Gecko Island? How long had it been, three years maybe? No longer than that, he was sure. His eyes went unfocused at the memory of a laugh that could easily end him and bring him back to life all at once.

“Swear it.”

“I, Roronoa Zoro, swear that we will sail again.”

Nami nodded to herself, saying, “Syrup Village is known for its ships. I say we dock there and ditch this junk.”

He couldn’t believe that luck. Zoro’s lips threatened to quirk into a grin before he got a hold of himself. He rested his hand on his swords and snuffed. “I’ve got a friend in Syrup Village who could help us.”

Nami took off her readers and rolled up her map. “You have friends?”

He shot her a tight smirk. “Just one.”

“And he can help us?” asked Luffy as he took to the ship’s helm.

“She might.” Zoro checked on a knot here and a rope there. With his back to his temporary crew, he let out a small smile. “If she’s happy to see me.”

A surprised grin took Nami's face. “And if she isn’t?”

“She will be,” he assured, only half certain, if he was being honest.

It'd been three years since his promise, after all. Whatever happened next, Zoro could only be certain of one thing: oh, how he missed you.

જ⁀➴

Zoro was sweating, and it had nothing to do with the heat.

With every inch they grew closer to Syrup Village the swordsman swore he could hear your last words to him, a taunting sort of echo reflected by the sea. He’d always heard that water holds memories, and now it holds memories of you.

For better or worse, for reasons he just couldn’t fathom, you loved him. The very thought had his heart stuttering, his lips threatening to curve into a smile. Hopefully, time hadn’t changed your heart. It certainly hadn’t changed his.

He stood leaning on the mast, arms crossed to limit the fidget of his fingers. Unfortunately, this left him out in the open, a prime target for Nami’s incessant teasing.

She slinked up beside him, curiosity already planted on her face. “So,” Nami drawled, not even trying to hide her shit-eating grin. “She?”

“Go. Away.” Zoro shifted away from her, tensing when Nami simply ducked forward, her short orange hair falling in her face.

She only laughed. “Oh, someone’s defensive.”

Zoro didn’t satisfy her with a response this time, yet she wasn’t thwarted, bumping his shoulder with a chuckle. “Relax. I’m sure your friend will be happy to see you.”

A beat of silence passed before he found himself offering up his worry. “I haven't written to her in a month.”

Nami scoffed. “Will she care when she sees you?”

Probably not, was his first thought, but then again, what if you had changed? What if you didn’t want to see him? What if you’d grown bitter?

“Hey.” Nami snapped in his face. “Get out of your head, all right?”

He looked at her then, and he wondered why she cared. They weren’t friends, or at least, he didn’t think they were friends. But the way the two of them locked eyes and he nodded and then she nodded—he wondered if he even knew what friendship felt like after all this time.

It felt like you, of course, but you were something entirely different. Entirely more.

So he pushed off the mast and walked to the rail of the ship, sucked in a breath, let it out slowly, and got out of his own head.

જ⁀➴

You were terribly hungover, and Vee was having a ball over it.

Your every groan prompted just one more I told you so. Because she had, after all, told you so. You didn’t remember much from the night before, just that you were sad and the bartender liked you enough to forget about a cut off.

But feeling like shit never got you out of work before, and it certainly didn’t today.

So you did your usual chores, albeit at a slower pace, crushing coriander and sorting it into jars at the corner table of Vee’s office. Vee herself stood behind one of the village’s elderly hypochondriacs, Miss Irma, who sat upon the examination table.

You and Vee had made quite the team over the years. While your knowledge solely pertained to the more natural medicines, Vee had gone to academy to become a real doctor, studying new technology and practices. Her fancy framed documents were testament to her achievements.

She taught you nearly everything she knew, and you showed her a few tricks too, and as a result Syrup Village developed a phenomenal one stop cure all shop. Your various tinctures and potions came in handy nearly everyday—today especially as you downed a hangover tonic seconds after waking up.

You pursed your lips, grinding up the coriander as your temples panged with the consequences of your actions. Last night the alcohol had done wonders to make you stop thinking, but today was a different story.

“Next week’ll be three years,” you said to Vee, not caring as Irma perked up at the potential gossip. Ever since you had declared your love to a ship retreating from the docks, the locals had been dying to figure you out. You never let them, finding great amusement in being the town mystery.

Vee glanced up from taking Irma’s blood pressure, sensing an approaching vent. “So that’s why you’re so worked up?”

“That,” you confirmed, pouring the fine powder into an empty jar. “And he hasn’t written in a while.”

It was silly to worry about him. He could handle himself just fine. He was probably just busy. Yet, you had to admit, his letters were normally like clockwork. He had never missed a monthly letter, not once in three years.

Vee suddenly stood beside you, taking your hands that you hadn’t realized were shaking. The older woman caught your eyes and offered a smile. “He’s a capable young man. He’ll be okay.”

You sighed, the sound quaking. “I know.”

She squeezed your hands and turned to remove the blood pressure cuff from a carefully listening Irma. “Take the supplies list from the counter and head to the market, yeah?”

“But—”

“Nope.” She was pushing you by your shoulders now, leaving a less than pleased Irma behind. Vee walked you through the hall, the kitchen, and right to the front door.

“Vee—Stop pushin’ me!” You planted two hands on either side of the doorframe, halting your exit. Puffing, you begrudgingly relented. “You never gave me the list.”

A triumphant smile adorned her face as she swept back to the kitchen and returned with your shopping list. You snatched it from her fist and left her with a feigned smile, not liking how she chuckled as the door clicked shut behind you.

You huffed, fondly remarked “Bitch,” and headed down the cobblestone street with a brief glance down at the sheet of paper. Chamomile. Turmeric. Peppermint. Calendula.

You hummed. That last one might be hard to come by in the market, but surely one of the local merchants could find it for you. Turning the corner to head through the square, you caught sight of a familiar little man hurrying through the square. You swiftly pocketed your list and chased after him. “Joli! Hey, Joli!”

The mailman startled and whirled around, relaxing upon finding you rushing toward him. He didn’t bother with pleasantries; this had been going on for days, and the usual reply was on his lips before you could even get the question out.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said, lips pursed in an apologetic smile. “No letters have come for you… Maybe your friend has just forgotten?”

“No. It’s something else.” Why did everyone assume he’d forgotten? It wasn’t like him to forget. You worried your lip between your teeth. “He always writes. Every month, without fail. Something’s gotta be wrong.”

“You could always write to him first?” Joli offered.

“I would if I knew where the hell he is.” It wasn’t easy being penpals with the Demon Pirate Hunter, given he was never in one place for very long.

But he hadn’t written in over a month. Surely, he couldn’t have forgotten you. He wouldn’t have forgotten you. Even with the sea dividing you, the pair of you were intertwined. Three years and no letter wasn’t going to change that.

“Sorry, Joli,” you said, realizing you’d zoned out. “Thanks anyway.”

He swept a brief bow and hurried off to continue his day, leaving you alone in the bustling town square.

Time had gone by very slowly, and although Syrup Village was charming, you couldn’t help but feel drowned by the mundanity of it all. Syrup Village, to put it simply, was boring.

But mostly, Syrup Village just didn’t have Zoro.

He was off on the East Blue, God knows where exactly, and the worry was eating you away.

Shaking your head as if it could dispel your thoughts, you quickly shifted to hurry toward the market. It was a long line of stands and booths running up and down the eastern part of the city. Directly behind it was a fine view of the shipyard, with its impressive ships large and small. And then to the left of the yard was the port, busy with the weekly imports.

The evening started to waste away as you went from tent to tent, offering smiles and beri in exchange for ingredients. Only after you’d asked the local flower merchant to place an order for calendula did you turn to look at the sky. Perhaps it’d been long enough for Vee to let you back inside. You’d already gathered everything on her list, after all.

But first, maybe you’d bring home something sweet. Food always put Vee in a good mood.

“Thanks, Luc,” you said to the young baker, taking the cloth wrapped loaf of lemon bread from him. “Tell your mom I said hello.”

“Sure thing.” You waved him goodbye and walked into the crowds, pinching off a piece of bread and popping it in your mouth. The billowing sails of the ships caught your eye and drew you closer.

The port reminded you of Zoro. Well, to be fair, many things reminded you of Zoro. Even lemon bread made you think of his sour expressions if you let the taste linger too long. But there was something about the salty breeze and the cursing sailors that threw you back three years time.

If you closed your eyes you could practically see it—you and Zoro stood at the railing of a shipping barge, one of his hands on his swords and the other caging you between the ship and him, only to protect you from the many suspicious sailors, of course. Not at all because he enjoyed the proximity.

Someone bumped your shoulder and barked an insult, and you realized you’d literally closed your eyes. Oops.

“Sorry,” you mumbled and ducked your head, stuffing the lemon bread in your satchel.

You stopped in the shade cast by one ship’s sail, well out of the way. How many pirates stood in your midst? It was a question you tried not to think about, but you wagered a fourth of the crowd, maybe, but no more than that. Usopp scared most of them away with his clockwork alarms.

Maybe you could find your friend before you headed back. Usopp’s stories were farfetched, but never dull in color.

You had taken a single step when the crowd of hurrying sailors and passengers grew thin, and your gaze was drawn like a magnet to a shock of green hair. You seized up, tense muscles locking you in place.

You blinked, forgot how to breathe, and blinked again. Certainly you had to be tricking yourself. Plenty of fools have green hair.

As you forced an inhale the figure came into focus, one of his hands rested on a white sword you would recognize in the thickest of fog.

You huffed, disbelieving. It couldn’t be. He couldn’t be real. Parched lips parting, you noted that you hadn't had much to drink that day and the sun was rather hot… but you surely weren’t dehydrated enough to hallucinate.

That wasn’t any green haired fool. That was your green haired fool, in the flesh, like an answer to a desperate prayer. He came back.

You might’ve stood there all day had Zoro not felt your stare like a hot brand on his cheek.

His heart was already hammering in his chest, skin prickling with the need to just shout your name till someone told him where to find you. But… his shoulders tensed, not from the anxiety, but from wariness. His brow pinched and he gazed around to find whoever was watching him.

Bit by bit, his gaze roamed over sailors big and small, crates and barrels, until it settled on you amidst the passersby.

He’d tried preparing for this moment. None of it was useful now as he met your eyes in an everlasting moment. How had he ever left?

Zoro’s hand slipped from his sword as he started toward you, each step far too long and slow for his liking. It felt like walking through water to get you, like there was sand in his shoes weighing him to the ground.

Luckily, you were impatient.

You took off, feet pounding against the wood of the docks, shoulder checking at least five people and knocking one person to the ground. You were heaving even as a wide smile took your face.

Zoro gasped the instant before you barreled into him, your arms flung around his neck as his own embraced you tightly. He stumbled and let out a glorious little laugh for only you to hear. The sound alone made three years of aching boil down to one desperate need to never let him go.

Pulling back, you found his eyes, and the little grin on his face was the very last straw.

Like a starved woman, you surged forward and cupped the sides of his face to drag him down to meet your lips. Soft and timeless, you sought to engrave the feel of his lips on yours, and yours to his. So just in case he’d ever dreamed of kissing another woman, he never would again.

Your hungry affection only made his infatuation worse; for three long years, Zoro only ever dreamed of you.

Zoro broke the kiss, drawing back and watching as you followed him, dazed like you could hardly believe it. A strand of hair was stuck to your forehead, damp with sweat, and he absently swiped it away. All he wanted to do was admire you, holding you close and breathing you in.

“Hi.” It was the only thing he could bring himself to say.

Your fingernails dug into the skin of his arms, a half smile flickering onto your face. You swallowed thickly, hardly believing this was real. “When you didn’t write, I…”

Zoro suddenly remembered who he’d come here with and hoped with everything in him they weren’t standing right behind him like they had been before. “I got caught up.”

“Too caught up to let me know you’re alive?” You could’ve been teasing, but he knew better. He saw it in how your eyes searched his face; he’d scared you.

His eyes went a special kind of soft only one person had ever seen in Roronoa Zoro, and he cupped your face gently. A grin tugged at his lips. “Like anyone could kill me.”

Your own lips twitched upwards as you leaned into his touch. Zoro wet his lips and glanced at the ground. His throat was suddenly dry as sand. “Uhm… I’m… uh…”

“Who’s your friend?” Nami. Voice filled with mirth, he could picture that shit eating smirk on her face before he ever turned around.

He reluctantly peeled away from you, clearing his throat and stepping to the side (He never strayed from your side, his hand finding solace in fidgeting with the frayed end of your shirt). Now came a moment he’d been dreading: the introductions.

You assessed the pair of people standing, and you didn’t know how to feel that they’d probably witnessed the entire display of affection, beginning to end. The entire shipyard did as well, a part of you reasoned, so you brushed it off.

It was a boy and girl, the former wearing a cool straw hat and the latter with even cooler hair the color of tangerines. The girl, who you assumed was the one who’d spoken, wore a thick grin, arms crossed as she leaned into her hip. The boy, however, was glancing between you and Zoro with a puzzled sort of smile.

Zoro’s fingers brushed your hip; he was radiating nerves. “Y/N, this is Luffy and Nami.”

Luffy had eyes so lively you had to offer up a smile, as though your body felt no choice but to mirror just a bit of his obvious enthusiasm.

“Nice to meet you,” he said, and you felt he really meant it. Luffy tilted his head. “How do you know Zoro?”

“We… go back,” you said, casting Zoro a glance to find his usual deadpan back in place—God, how you’d missed that frown.

A thought provoked you. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never been happier, but what the hell are you doin’ here? I thought you’d be—I dunno—on the edge of nowhere sharing a beer with a bagged corpse or something.”

You zeroed in on Nami then, immediately having her beauty carved into your memory. Something oddly possessive welled in your gut before you quickly shut it down. Still, you inched closer to Zoro.

“That’s what we’re here to see you about,” said Zoro, and something about it struck a worry in you. The way your eyes met his must’ve betrayed everything, for his hand moved to grasp your own, speaking a million silent little things.

Sensing a story, you guided them to the closest tavern, finding a nice spot in a low lit booth. Luffy rushed to slide into the booth, followed by Nami. Zoro reached the opposite side of the booth, but took a step back to let you slide in first.

Pausing to blink up at him, he worried, “You still like sitting on the inside?”

Warmth bloomed in your chest as you nodded, wasting no time in jumping into the booth and tugging him to sit flush against your side.

In grand detail and elaborate hand motions, Luffy explained their mission: they had a map of the Grand Line, and when they got there, they would find the One Piece, and Luffy would become King of the Pirates.

To say you were at a loss was the understatement of the century. Jaw slack, you looked from Zoro to Nami to Luffy to Zoro, then the whole cycle over again. Finally, you settled for shifting to face Zoro entirely, a slow smirk forming on your lips. “But… Pirates?”

Just some years ago you’d been helping this man put pirates behind bars, you’d taken part in a few murders as well, and now he was trying to tell you he was one of them? You couldn’t help it; you laughed, your hand moving to take his underneath the table.

Zoro choked on nothing as your thumb ran circles on the back of his hand, but he composed himself enough to shrug. “Surprise.”

“You never cease to amaze me.” Almost doe eyed, you gazed all over his sheepish expression, adoration plain on your face. “I bet you’re a shit pirate.”

Nami burst into a laughing fit, eyes alight. He tried to glare, but it failed immediately, everything in him softening the moment he caught your smile.

“He’s great,” Luffy disagreed, grinning back at you. “And he’ll be even better once he’s the world’s—”

“Greatest swordsman,” you finished. Your smile was fond and warm. “I know. You never actually said why you came to Syrup Village, by the way. Not that the tale of your victory over Boogie the Clown wasn’t thrilling.”

Luffy leaned forward. “We need a ship,” he told you. “One worthy of our crew. A home.”

“Well,” you said, “if you see one you like, I know someone who can help you buy it. He knows the Shipyard owner.”

If possible, Luffy’s smile grew. “I’ve got my eyes on one already. The one with the goat figurehead! That’s our ship.”

“Oh,” you said, trying to keep the disbelief out of your voice. You knew the ship he spoke of, and it would be a pricey one, that’s for sure. Instead of lying to Luffy’s face, you chose to focus your attention back on Zoro, whose eyes had never left your face.

“Come on.” You tapped Zoro’s thigh to urge him out of the booth, grinning at how he went pink in the ears as he slid out. “My friend’ll work something out.”

You took the lead out of the tavern and to the Shipyard, eyes scouring the sailors for your friend as Nami and Luffy fell behind, almost of one mind as they sidled up to their solemn companion, caging him between them. Zoro’s gaze remained glued to your back, not willing to cast them even a glance.

Luffy bumped his shoulder. “I think your friend was pretty happy to see you after all.” The tease in his voice was evident.

Zoro somehow kept from snarling when he snapped back, “I said she would be.”

“Never,” Nami chuckled, “would I have ever guessed you have a girlfriend.”

“She’s not…” Zoro watched you longingly—he watched the way you waved kindly to people as you passed, how your very essence gave life to your surroundings—and he sighed. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Rolling her eyes, Nami kept her voice low. “Oh, I’m sorry. Is that how you greet all your friends?”

He didn’t answer, allowing their soft laughter to eat up his silence.

The truth of it was that this had gone better than Zoro had ever expected. His entire body still felt the burn of you against him, your lips on his—he stopped that thought where it stood, feeling that old flush creeping back up his neck.

He had to talk to you—alone. He had to say so many things that he wasn’t exactly sure where to start. An apology. That’s where he’d go from.

Unbeknownst to the whispers behind you, you were approaching the ship of Luffy’s affections, which you thought you remembered Usopp being on rotation for.

You cupped your hands around your mouth and called out, “Usopp! Hey, Usopp!”

A moment later a grinning face popped up from behind the deck of the ship, sweat beaded on his brow as he threw his rag over his shoulder and leaned over to see her better. “Y/N!” He scanned the lot of them. “And company?”

The three following you finally caught up, the swordsman taking his place by your side. You shot him a little grin and tugged on his sleeve to draw him closer to you. “Usopp! I’ve got some friends wantin’ to talk to Kaya ‘bout a ship!”

Zoro turned his head toward you with his eyes still on Usopp as the boy scrambled down to meet them. “Kaya?”

“The friend of a friend. Hella rich and owns the Yard,” you muttered back. He nodded, not minding one bit when you linked your index finger with his.

As he watched you as though you’d hung the very stars in the sky whilst you explained the situation to Usopp, he knew the second thing he’d say. He would work up the nerve to say what he couldn't three years ago.

જ⁀➴

The house—no, the mansion ahead was more extravagant than Zoro had seen in some time. He’d been close to your side the whole walk with Usopp, close enough so you could hear every one of his gripes about their guide’s questionable credibility. You giggled and bumped his shoulder every time, so he kept it up.

“He’s… imaginative,” you defended, chewing your lip. “Relax. Kaya’ll let you buy the ship for sure. No thievery even necessary.”

He quirked a brow, amusement playing on his face. “How’d you…”

“Nami’s been swipin’ stuff off vendor carts.” You shrugged. “I figure stealing a ship is her first thought.”

Zoro couldn’t help but grin down at you, and when you met his eyes—oh, how deep his eyes were—you lost all sense of gravity. You nearly tripped over a rock before Zoro caught your arm and steadied you, chuckling at your expense.

“Careful,” he teased, worsening the red in your cheeks. You stuck out your tongue in defense.

It was difficult for Zoro to stop looking at you, even as Kaya hobbled out of her home on the arm of her butler. If possible, you were even more beautiful than the last time he saw you.

He tried not to be too miffed when you fled from his side to greet Kaya in a happy birthday embrace, especially when you offered Klahadore a curt nod and rushed back to hook your arm through his. Zoro glanced at you, then at the butler, and had the sense he’d seen the proper looking man before. He just couldn't place where from.

The turn of events was less than pleasing. Now, Zoro had to sit through a fancy dinner with too many people around, and probably not a chance to whisk you away from the prying eyes of his newfound crew.

The dirty lot of you were ordered to clean up and only then shoved into Kaya’s expansive dressing room to find suitable clothes for dinner. Zoro walked into the dressing room in a soft black robe, feeling one hundred percent clean for the first time in a while.

Instantly, his gaze gravitated to you examining the rows and rows of clothing, a number of dresses draped on your arm. Nami was moving quickly through the racks, every once in a while resting a dress she’d found on your shoulder and muttering something Zoro couldn’t catch. To both Zoro’s amusement and annoyance, you and Nami seemed to have hit it off instantly.

He didn’t want to bother you, not when you looked to be having fun, so he took the first black thing he found and sat down on a chair near the corner. Zoro almost wanted to take a nap the second he sat down; even Kaya’s chairs felt expensive.

You dodged yet another dress from Nami, giggling, and caught sight of Zoro, appearing pleasantly surprised.

“Zoro!” Your smile was blinding. You swiftly passed a hand over the many clothes in your arms and grabbed what must’ve been your two favorites, dropping the rest in a lazy pile beside you. “I kinda feel bad not telling Vee where I am. She probably thinks I’m drunk in a barrel again.”

You disappeared behind a folding room divider, laughing under your breath. The two dresses were thrown to drape over the divider, and soon your clothes joined them. Zoro tried not to picture it too much, especially when he caught Nami staring at him with a mischievous grin.

He ignored her and rubbed at his eyes, exhaustion never too far away. Zoro remembered the doctor he’d left you with. She had seemed nice enough at the time, so it was good to know she hadn’t murdered you in the night, or something like that. “Vee’ll be fine.”

Nami headed for the door, her chosen dress in hand and a toothy grin on her face as she nodded exaggeratedly toward the divider you stood behind. Now, Zoro might have rolled his eyes, and he might have flipped her off, but only because he’d drink acid before telling Nami he was grateful.

“Ay, Nami?” you called. “Can you help me with this?”

He was grateful till just then, as his gaze locked on the divider and his heart picked up a considerable pace. Your shadow danced on the wall behind the divider, and Zoro forgot how to speak. All he could do was think many thoughts he’d put off for a very long time.

Three years had given him a lot of time to think—he thought a lot about you, and his regrets, and how he wished it were easier for him to just tear out his heart and stitch it to his sleeve. You certainly made it look easy.

But it wasn't, and Zoro couldn’t change that anytime soon. He wasn’t too worried about it, though. You had this uncanny way of knowing exactly what he was trying to say, even when he said it all wrong.

“Nami?”

“Nami’s gone,” he said, voice near cracking. He grimaced and stood from his chair. “Can I help?”

There wasn’t so much as a hesitation before you answered, “Mhmm. Come ‘ere.”

His feet moved before he ever told them to. Zoro still wasn’t entirely sure if he enjoyed this chokehold you had on him... but then he was rounding the divider warily, finding you standing with your back to him, squirming around as you tried to reach the zipper of your dress, and he took it back. He’d follow you to the ends of the earth and then some, probably.

Lips twitching upward, he stepped up behind you, his hands ghosting your skin as if he wasn’t sure what to do. His eyes raked up your back, and he froze. A thin white scar ran across your skin.

You peered up into the mirror in front of you, simultaneously locking eyes with the green-haired man. He didn’t look like he was breathing, almost afraid to touch you, it seemed. “Zoro?”

He hummed distantly. You grew concerned at the cloudiness in his eyes, and then his fingers ghosted your skin, tracing a line you’d memorized and yet somehow forgotten. Oh.

You spun around and sighed as he took a considerate step back. You tried to speak, but nothing came to mind. How could you have forgotten your scar? How could you have just let him see it? You frantically fumbled to pull the zipper up yourself, stammering, “Zoro, I, uhm…”

His jaw set all of a sudden, and he met your gaze head on. “I’m… sorry. That I left.”

You did not want to have that conversation. Not right now. You could save it for later, after the nice dinner, after you relished in ignoring the elephant standing in the corner. Because as much as you shoved it all down, Zoro had left you there, and it’d taken him three years to come back, as promised.

But he came back, you reminded yourself. A little devil in your mind piped in, not for you though.

You cleared your throat and folded your arms over your chest. “I understand why.”

“But I regret it. Everyday.” Zoro raked a hand through his hair. “Everyday I wanted to come back.”

It looked like he’d been bottling all that up, and you wondered if the words had been on the tip of his tongue from the moment he laid eyes on you. “Why didn’t you?”

“I… I didn't know if…”

“If…”

Zoro looked anywhere but you, wetting his lips. If your life was better without me. “If you liked it here.”

You really, truly couldn’t help it; you laughed. You laughed and laughed till your sides ached and you teetered to the side before Zoro’s hands settled on your shoulders to steady you. “Don’t laugh! I’m serious.”

“So am I.” Slowly, the smile slipped from your face as you reached for his hand and cupped it in both of yours. “Zoro, everyday for three years I waited for you, because you made me a promise… But I need to know… Would you have come back if it wasn’t convenient? I mean, did you really plan on it anytime soon?”

He tried to pull away and you nearly thought of letting him, before you laced your fingers with his and refused to let him go. Cold worry flooded your gut. “I’m sorry, that’s not fair—”

“It’s fair,” he cut you off. Zoro looked down at your interlocked hands. “I told you I’d come back. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

Still, he hadn’t answered the question, and you needed to know. “So, would you have?”

Zoro didn’t answer right away, practically giving you heart palpitations as he took his sweet time. “I want you to be there, when I defeat him.” His voice was barely above a whisper, his face drawn close to yours, eyes hung. “Hawkeye Mihawk is harder to find than I thought. Time kept slipping by and… I don’t know. I got…”

Scared, but he didn’t want to say that. Fortunately, you read between the lines, squeezing his hand. He sighed, eyes shut as his head drifted to rest against yours. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, raising your hand to ruffle the hair at the nape of his neck. “I probably would have waited till then, to be perfectly honest.” Your cheeks warmed, gaze lowering. You raised a brow at the robe tied around him, breaking you out of the moment. “This what you’re wearin’ to dinner?”

There was a tease in your voice that had Zoro rolling his eyes as he slipped his hand back into yours and tugged you out from behind the divider. He dropped your hand only to pick up the suit jacket and hold it out to you for you to inspect.

Brows still vaulted, you looked up through your lashes, smirking. “Hon’, you can’t just wear a jacket.”

He blinked, giving a bashful scoff. “I know that.”

He was too busy not being embarrassed to notice when you shook your head and skipped past him, planting a kiss on his cheek as you passed.

“Hmm.” You skimmed through some of the clothes, finding a dress shirt that stood out to you. “Here. Try this.”

You took a hanger and held it up for him to see. Zoro wrinkled his nose. “It’s pink.”

Rolling your eyes, you shoved the shirt into his hands and moved to find some pants. “I like pink. You like me. Therefore, you like pink.”

Zoro doubted that logic, but you were practically an angel in disguise with the way you glided back over to him and handed over a pair of black dress pants. Your smile was a dangerous thing, because the more he looked at it the more you made a whole lot of sense.

“Fine,” he murmured, disappearing behind the divider and emerging a few moments later, decked out in clothes nicer than he felt he deserved.

You turned, about to say something when you laid eyes on him and faltered. Your eyes reflected a longing affection that had Zoro flustered in an instant, clearing his throat and cracking his neck in the silence. The fond grin on your face threatened to have him crumbling at your feet.

“Something on my face?”

A beautiful laugh bubbled from your chest, a happy warmth in your cheeks as you smoothed down the fabric of his jacket, resting your palms on his chest. The topmost buttons of the pink dress shirt were yet to be fastened, and you moved to finish it up all while that lovely smile graced your lips.

You were halfway done with the last button when Zoro’s hand cradled the back of your head, angling you to look at him again. Breath hitched, the words begged to be set free. Always on the tip of his tongue. “I…”

And for once, you were patient, more patient than he ever deserved. Zoro felt panic well up in his lungs, deep in his heart, and he abandoned the attempt altogether, surging forward to catch your lips against his. You had no complaints, sighing as your fingertips tickled the skin of his neck.

“Guys!”

“No, Luffy, stop!”

The swift footfalls of Luffy followed his shout. You snapped away from Zoro, the both of you taking a swift step back.

Your foot caught the pile of dresses you’d left, a yelp fleeing your lips as you fell flat on your back into the clothes. Zoro took one look at you and coughed, literally choking on a sudden laugh.

Luffy rushed into the room, stopping at the door. Nami stumbled after him with a glare and hissed, “Luffy!”

He cast her an odd look. “What?” Not paying Nami any more mind, Luffy grinned and said, “Come on, I can smell dinner.”

You let out a huff as Zoro grinned down at you, holding out a hand to pull you up. Hobbling on your feet, you patted Zoro’s arm and swept past him, approaching Nami with a smile.

“Oh, you look lovely,” you awed, admiring her fixed hair and light make up.

Nami raised her shoulders to meet her ears, saying, “I try.”

Following her down the hall, Zoro was left with Luffy, who said suddenly, “Why was she on the floor?”

Somehow refraining from rolling his eyes, Zoro simply left it at that, trudging after you and Nami.

જ⁀➴

Things had gone south very, very quickly. You hadn’t been so exhilarated in years.

The dinner was exquisite, but that was where the good things ended. Your late night search for water was cut short by the sound of voices from the entry hall.

Rushing to the edge of the banister, you found Kaya’s housekeepers dragging Luffy outside and handed over to the marines, the butler standing there void of any expression. That, paired with the sudden disappearance of all your friends from their rooms, was starting to be a bit more than what you signed up for.

“Hey!” you shouted, voice bellowing down the foyer. You nearly face planted down the stairs with how frantically you ran down them. “Let ‘im go!”

Klahadore gave you one conniving glare and pushed his glasses back up his nose. The second your feet hit the floor, Sham, that mousy little maid, jumped you and had your hands twisted behind your back. No amount of struggling ever loosened her grip, and she’d kicked in the back of your knees before you could even think to swipe at her feet.

“Ah,” drawled the butler. You huffed, shaking, and met the man’s black eyes. “Another of these Strawhats, as you called them. Care to take another pirate off our hands?”

There stood two young looking boys, decked out in matching marine uniforms, but one had cropped pink hair and the other had a shock of horrendously cut blond hair. The blond stepped forth with a tight smile. “Gladly. Thank you for your assistance, sir. You’ve helped to make the seas safer.”

Two other marines came out to take you by your arms while you grunted out curses. You could only get one look over your shoulder as the mansion doors shut behind you, giving you a clear view of the dark smile curling up Klahadore’s face. You fought tirelessly. “Hey! Hey! I—I’m not a pirate! He’s lying! Let me—Luffy! What’s wrong with Luffy?!”

The boy with pink hair was in your face then, his expression much softer than the others. “Calm down. We’re not going to hurt you.”

You hardly believed that, but the kindness emanated in the boy’s tone was just enough to ease your struggling. Still heaving, you cast a look over at Luffy, who was being dragged along ahead of you. His head lolled at his shoulders and his feet dragged along behind him. “What’s wrong with Luffy?”

“He’s only drunk,” said the blond, though he amended himself upon hearing a not so comforting sound come from Luffy’s gut. “Probably…”

“He’s sick,” you cried.

“Drunk,” the blond marine insisted, putting an end to the matter by turning on his heel.

You looked back at Kaya’s mansion, which grew smaller by the second, and panic welled in your chest. Something was very, very wrong. Why had the butler done that? Who was Klahadore really? What were the marines there for? Where was Zoro?

Luffy’s sudden hurling almost gave you a heart attack, momentarily causing the marines at your sides to lose focus as tons of blue gunk flew out of Luffy’s mouth… and onto the blond marine. You couldn’t help it—you laughed, almost delirious, throwing your head back and all. The pink haired marine cracked a smile while the other four marines grimaced.

Released out of the marines’ grasp, Luffy hit his knees and heaved onto the dirt, expelling the rest of whatever poison he’d gotten a hold of. His distress sobered you instantly, and with your captors distracted you rushed forth to kneel beside him. When the marines lunged to catch you, the pink haired marine, presumably the one in charge despite his small stature, ordered them, “Stop. She won’t run.”

This guy honestly gave you too much benefit of doubt, but still, he was right; you didn’t run. Instead, you rubbed calming circles on Luffy’s back as the kind marine kneeled beside you, looking concerned himself.

At your glare, he murmured, “I’m Koby. I… I know him.”

You blinked. “Small world.”

“Yep.”

Luffy gave one last cough, and with another gasp he raised his head to stare dazedly from you to Koby. His eyes narrowed in confusion upon finding the boy there. “Koby? I… I gotta go back.”

There wasn’t any room for argument in his tone, his gaze shifting to settle on you. “That butler… He’s gonna kill Kaya, and then he’s going after our crew.”

“No.” Breathing shaky, your jaw set. You made to jump to your feet and bolt back to the mansion when you remembered you were technically still a prisoner, your glare returning at full force.

Koby looked to be at a terrible loss, saying, “I’m under direct orders to bring you in.”

“Kaya’s going to die,” you snapped at him, causing Koby to almost flinch. “You want her blood on your hands, marine?”

Much softer, much less angry, Luffy set a hand on Koby’s shoulder and said, “You said you wanted to help innocent people. Kaya’s innocent.”

For an everlasting moment, you thought maybe Koby was going to let you go. The consideration crossing his eyes was sign enough. And then it all went to complete shit.

The blond marine scoffed. “Know what?” He retrieved his pistol from its holster and loaded it in one motion, running your blood cold. “Screw this.”

Koby jumped to his feet. “Helmeppo, don’t!” he ordered, falling on deaf ears.

There was no shake in the marine’s hand as he stared down a solemn Luffy. “Father always said a dead pirate weighs the same as a live one.”

Slowly, ever so slowly, you rose to your feet and inched yourself a good distance away from Luffy. “Helmeppo?” you scoffed, a panicked tilt to your voice. “That’s one step away from being hippo, dude. Back up.”

Eyes aflame, Helmeppo blinked his attention away from Luffy to find you, just like you wanted.

Koby almost shouted, “Garp gave us strict orders.”

Helmeppo’s glare remained zeroed in on you. “Concerning this one,” he said, jutting his chin at Luffy, “but you.” He shifted to aim at you, a sadistic grin marking his face. “Garp doesn’t want you.”

Your heels dug into the dirt, a slight ring in your ears. It’d been some time since you stared down a gun. Luffy jumped up and took a threatening step toward the marine. “Leave her alone.”

“I will,” Helmeppo barked. “If you start walking, pirate, or she dies.”

You swallowed thickly. Where the hell was Zoro? “Have you ever even fired one of those before, cadet?”

You were certain Helmeppo would have at least bashed you over the head with the butt of his gun for that, had the pained grunts and clank of metal not cut jaggedly through the air. The bodies of the other marines sunk to the ground, unmoving, and a shadow stepped out of the dark.

In the flicker of the pathway torches stood the Demon Pirate Hunter, looking absolutely pissed.

He took one look at Helmeppo, saw where his gun was pointed, and sneered. “Hey, haircut.”

You’d never seen someone drop their gun so fast, the weapon hitting Helmeppo’s thigh. All your bravery fled your body as your steeled back shoulders dropped, allowing yourself to feel every bit of fear now that Zoro was there. It would’ve been sad to die like that, you thought.

But a sense of comfort followed that fear. You weren’t going to die—there was Zoro, and Zoro would never let you die by the hands of some arrogant marine. He wouldn’t let you die, period.

The devil-eyed man approached, looking only at you and the relieved smile tugging at your lips. He stopped, landed a knockout punch to Helmeppo’s face, and barely shook out his fist like it was nothing.

Helmeppo’s head hadn’t so much as hit the ground before you were racing at Zoro, jumping over the unconscious soldier. You hooked your arms around Zoro’s neck in a tight hug. “You’re alive.”

“Have a little faith,” he muttered back, pulling away to offer a teasing smile.

Luffy let out a victory cry and quickly dealt with Koby, ditching the panicked soldier on the road as the three of you ran back to Kaya’s mansion.

The massive house came into focus, basked in the darkness of night. Luffy left to find Kaya as you pulled out your dagger, ready for a fight, only for Zoro to tap your shoulder gently. His bandana was tied securely around his head, his brows drawn taut, and it took you far too long to realize he was holding out that white hilted sword you’d polished and shined too many times to count times.

You stared at it for far too long as well, bringing Zoro to roll his eyes. “You’re not fighting with a knife. Take it.” At your raised brows, he grabbed your hand and forced his sword into your palm, giving you a meaningful look.

“You’re not out of practice, are you?” he asked, a tease in his voice as he headed for the mansion doors.

Spinning the Wado Ichimonji around your hand, you shot him a grin. “Please. You think I went three years and never picked up a sword?” You tsked. “And let all your training go to waste?”

Huffing out a chuckle, Zoro shoved open the doors and warily went inside. You cast his sword a fond glance, shook out your shoulders, and followed suit. Despite your assurances, you were nervous. More nervous than when you were staring down Helmeppo’s pistol.

Practicing swordsmanship on scarecrows was much different than actually fighting a warm body. Warm bodies fight back.

Adjusting your grip on the hilt, you raised the blade and sweeped the area, locking eyes with Zoro a moment later. The foyer was empty. It was quiet. Zoro’s eyes widened upon something behind you, giving you just enough time to whip around and parry the strike of Sham.

The maid still wore her work attire, but now she held a silver shortsword in hand, black paint drawing the shape of a cat’s nose down her face. Buchi lunged out as well, catching his two swords against Zoro’s.

You shoved off of Sham and scurried back to escape her unrelenting strikes. Dodging around a small table you spun to swing at her neck before she could change directions. She jerked away with a literal hiss, eyes flashing.

Sham scooped a broom off the ground and jumped high into the air, moving the broom and the sword in a cross as she landed a blow against the flat of your blade. With a grunt of exertion you ducked and swept under her arm, Sham’s strength working against her as she went flying forward.

Buchi chased Zoro up the staircase, taking out some posts on the banister. Startling at the sound of cracking wood, Sham got a stab at you, catching your blade arm. Wincing through the pain you tightened your grip on the Wado Ichimonji, dodging this way and that to avoid being skewered by Sham’s advances.

“Hey!” Zoro snapped, dragging Sham’s attention to him. He leaped off the stairs and cut her broom in half, finding himself now under the attack of both Black Cats.

Chest heaving, you rolled out your shoulder and bit back a whine at the shudder of pain, swapping the sword to your other hand. Zoro lunged around Sham and sought high ground back on the stairs. Sham grinned up at him, showing off his second sword she’d swiped from its sheath.

An annoyed tick appeared on Zoro’s jaw.

You seemed to have been forgotten in favor of better competition, slinking into the shadows of the room. Sham stabbed Zoro’s sword into the cabinet beside her, leaving it unattended as she and Buchi cornered Zoro on the stairs.

He swiftly leaped over them and retrieved his sword, locking you in place with a glare. Don’t move, it said. Stop while you’re ahead.

Ears ringing, you traced the line of action as Zoro fought the two pirates down to the center of the room again. He knocked Sham aside only for Buchi to lunge again, allowing the other to get back up again. Zoro shoved Buchi against the ground, successfully knocking him out.

Letting out a hiss, Sham ran at him and nicked his cheek, knocking one sword from his hand as he evaded another hit. Something furious welled up and out of you.

“Hey!” Rushing forth, you caught her by surprise, pressing your sword against hers with all your weakening might. Her footing was off, her legs collapsing long enough for you to descend upon her and bash the brunt of the sword against her skull.

The newfound silence crackled in the air between you and your swordsman. Breathing deeply, you suddenly let out a curse, dropping Zoro’s sword as the gash on your arm finally strained from that last blow.

“Fuck.” You shook out your arm to stave off the pain. “Shit-shit-shit, that hurt. Gah!” Then noticing the Wado Ichimonji on the floor, “Oh, I dropped it, I’m sorry—”

You kneeled down and picked it up in your good arm, still rolling out your shoulder even as you held it out for him, eyes shining with an innocent adoration as if you hadn’t just jumped a woman for him.

Zoro only stood there in complete and utter awe, three years worth of dreams and nightmares flooding his head as you stood before him. Fighting alongside him. Just like you used to. Like he dreamed of. Like he wanted to for the rest of your lives. He heaved, struggling to get enough air.

“I love you.” A hefty weight was lifted off his strained shoulders.

His eyes bore into yours as he caught his breath, nearly nervous in how he watched you. You wouldn’t have been surprised if your heart exploded, giving way to every feeling coursing through your veins. A smile split across your face, you set the sword on the ground to rush at him, removing all space between you and him, flushing yourself to his chest.

Sham and Buchi’s swift swordsmanship was nothing compared to the speed at which you left kisses on his face, leaving no skin unloved. Zoro’s face scrunched up through a laugh, light and airy, his cheeks dusted pink.

Finished with your attacks you pressed your forehead to his, cradling his head in your hands and just breathing in the moment. The two pirates were groaning at your feet, but you hardly heard it, swaying in the silence.

“This was well worth the wait,” you said.

He hummed his agreement against your lips, ghosting a kiss, meaning to really kiss you till you physically forced him away, when a voice echoed from the top of the stairs.

“Oh,” Kaya awed, arm hooked through Usopp’s. “How sweet.”

Zoro tried to back away when you hooked a hand around his neck and yanked him down to your level, kissing him gently.

“I love you too,” you murmured, the pair of you ignoring Usopp’s encouraging holler. “So, so, so much.”

Behind you, Sham started to wriggle awake. The smile slid fast from your face as you whirled around and gripped her by the hair, ordering Zoro to get a rope so you could secure your two prisoners.

Zoro grinned lovingly as the rest of the crew descended the stairs. “Yes ma'am.”

જ⁀➴

“I hereby call this ship,” Luffy began to declare, turning away from a teary eyed Kaya to face the grand vessel on the sunny shipyard. “The Going Merry!”

“It’s yours now,” Kaya smiled. “Your new home.”

In reply Luffy let out a shrill cry of victory, dragging a chuckle out of you. Your arm was freshly bandaged, all three of Zoro’s swords now back in their rightful sheaths. You leaned on him slightly, chin rested on his shoulder as your eyes begged for some rest.

Luffy turned to smile at Usopp, who’d wandered some distance away. “Usopp! What’re you waiting for?”

Usopp stumbled over his words, trying his hardest not to seem excited at the prospect, and after a brief goodbye with Kaya followed by a sweet kiss, he agreed. Before you could even smile, a worried figure broke through the crowds of the shipyard.

“Oh, God,” Vee cried as soon as she spotted you. She jumped over a rail and down some stairs to envelope you in her arms. “I heard about what happened!”

Nami tilted her head. “How on earth did you hear?”

Vee waved off her question with a brief the grannies hear everything and took you by the shoulders. “I never liked that butler, I—”

She noticed Kaya standing to the side, her mouth snapping shut. “I’m… sorry for your losses, Miss Kaya.”

The sweet girl simply smiled. “Don’t worry about it.”

Luffy clapped Usopp on his shoulder, smile bright as the sun, and turned his sights on his next recruit. Luffy zeroed in on you, calling out, “Y/N! You’re coming, right?”

Vee cast him an odd glance, shifting her gaze back to you. “What…”

She blinked and seemed to only just notice the swordsman at your shoulder, and she let out a gentle laugh. “Would you look at that? Speak of the devil.”

Zoro scoffed, half grinning. “Hey, Vee.”

Realization was slowly dawning on the woman as she took your hand in hers. “So… This means you’re off then?”

You were almost reluctant to nod. “Yes.”

A hundred different thoughts flashed across her eyes, lips pursing, before Vee nodded firmly. “Right. You’ll need supplies, won’t you? Some herbs and bottles, to continue your work. A textbook maybe.” Her hand found your cheek as she gave a watery smile. “You’re exceptional, you know. I’m proud of my apprentice.”

A burn welled up in your throat as you cupped her hand. “What about you? Who’ll help with the clinic?”

“You know, Vee,” Usopp cut in. “Kaya was just saying she’d like to be a doctor.”

Kaya gently smacked his arm, reprimanding him as Vee blinked surprisedly. “Really? Uhm, well, I’d be happy to teach you, get you ready for academy entries… If that’s something you’d like?”

“Yes,” Kaya blurted, flushing slightly through her barely suppressed smile.

“Great!” Luffy exclaimed, locking eyes with you. “You’re in, then?”

You took in a steadying breath, your hand searching sightlessly behind you, Zoro’s hand meeting yours moments later. “I’m in.”

Nami leaned into her hip, grinning. “Good. I don’t know how much more testosterone I could take.”

The lot of you set off in different directions, off to gather supplies as quickly as possible to get off the island before the marines caught back up. You lagged behind, Zoro falling into step beside you.

He offered you a little smile and moved his arm around your shoulder, liking the feel of you tucked into his side. It finally settled in that this was happening. Years of wishing finally came to fruition. You pressed a kiss to the back of Zoro’s hand.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” you confessed.

“I swore, didn’t I?” Zoro said.

Through a blinding smile, you stopped and kissed him. “You did.” Your fingertips grazed the back of his neck as you held him close, running a shiver down his spine. You pressed your forehead to his and mused, “We’re still not the greatest apothecary and swordsman in the world though.”

“Dracule Mihawk is hard to find—”

“I’m kidding. We’ve got all the time in the world to get there.”

Although you weren’t exactly sure how one becomes the greatest apothecary in the world, you were exactly sure that wherever your ambitions took you, Zoro would be there. If you had any influence on fate, you would sail together till the end of your days.

જ⁀➴

Four rickety boned women stood along the wall of the tavern, hawkeyed gazes scouring the streets of Syrup Village. Martha, June, Polly, and of course, Miss Irma.

Irma massaged at her ever-pained neck, searching out something of interest, when her ears caught the tail end of a laugh. Sweeping the street, her gaze stopped upon a shocking sight.

Well, she thought, that’s something you don’t see everyday.

Miss Kaya from the mansion estate was leaving the town clinic, arm in arm with that troublesome Usopp. Irma harrumphed, thinking Miss Kaya should know better than to keep such company, when she noticed Usopp was followed by some odd companions.

A ginger girl looking worse for wear, a boy with a straw hat so worn she wouldn’t be surprised if the wind blew it apart, and Vee, the village doctor. A fairly odd group indeed.

She hummed curiously, especially when the door to the clinic swung open once more to reveal Vee’s apprentice, a full to the brim satchel on her shoulder. Irma swatted at her three friends and pointed their attention to the sight just as someone else followed the girl out of the clinic.

Martha gaped, her cigarette falling to the ground. Irma, June, and Polly reacted the same, not entirely believing it.

Right behind the apprentice walked a handsome young man with a shock of green hair and three swords at his hip, a gentle smile on his face as he tugged on the girl’s arm to get her to face him again. Turning around, she was greeted with a kiss to her forehead and a gaze so warm Irma felt its heat from across the street.

“It’s—It’s that boy,” Polly exclaimed. “The one that left her.”

Irma started to grin a satisfied kind of grin, crossing her arms over her chest. “Pay up, ladies. I told you he’d come back for her.”

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