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prongsiepotter · 8 hours

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down bad | j. potter

summary: you're so in love with james potter but he's a little too good at giving you mixed signals that it might actually ruin you

pairing: james potter x reader

warnings: angst, a little fluff if u squint, and so much longing & yearning. omg so much of it

a/n: i am unfortunately completely obsessed with taylor swift's new album, so everything i'll write in the near future will be based on one of the ttpd songs (yey!) & this one's based on 'down bad.' feel free to send requests if u want pick the next song for me x

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"So he just said no?" Mary all but hisses. Marlene shushes her, glancing around the classroom before leaning down from where she's sitting on your desk.

"Are you sure it didn't mean something else?" She rests her hand on yours. "Maybe it was just a misunderstanding. He wouldn't…he just wouldn't, right?" You smile weakly at her, then shake your head. She squeezes your hand.

"The note was pretty clear," you say with a soft sigh. The sentence rolls off your tongue with unhidden bitterness. "Sorry, can't. Need to catch up on some assignments."

You would show it to them, so they could see for themselves and maybe divert their sympathetic gazes from you. But you had set it on fire right after reading it, just like the other two notes friendly rejecting you. You still aren't sure why you did it. After all, you did just tell Mary and Marlene that you're fine. At least you will be. You should not be this devastated over some guy.

Even if that guy is James Potter.

James who is now strolling into the room with his mates, looking as invincible and full of life as he always has and always will.

Quickly, you force a smile at the girls and pull out the chair next to you. Marlene, bless her, gets the hint and lightly shoves Mary's shoulder to have her take the seat. You're going through your book bag, pulling out your inkwell when four bodies make their way past your desk.

"Ladies," comes Sirius cheerfully loud voice as he bows at the waist because, of course, he does. Peter and Remus aren't as dramatic with their greetings. The latter, however, does take the time to slow down in front of you until you look up and return his kind smile. Belatedly, you realise perhaps you shouldn't have done that. You lock eyes with James, who's right behind him.

He sends you an easy smile and a wink. Like he's letting you in on another one of his rare secrets. You're not sure if you're smiling back, but it's almost a given that you are.

He takes his seat behind you, laughing blithely at a joke Pete just told, and it's all so painfully charming that you want to die. You fear he will always make you feel like this. Like you're somehow the chosen one. It's such a sickening feeling, you can't help but whip around and look at Mary, pleadingly. Though, you're not sure what you're pleading for anymore.

She shoots you another unbearably sympathetic smile, looking like she's close to cooing at you. You sigh, hiding your face in the crook of your arms.

You can't help but think how easy it would be to just cry right here. It's embarrassing to admit, but you've done it plenty of times over the weekend after you had seen James out at Hogsmeade with the others. Miserably, you had realised that he was, in fact, not too busy working on his assignments. He just didn't want to spend time with you.

You almost let out a sob.

A hand rubs your back and you know it can only be Mary, but you let yourself believe that it's the universe consoling you, as if to say there, there because there's nothing fair about this and she knows it, but there's nothing she can do it about now, can she?

History of Magic passes in a blur. Before you know it, you're in the library, pouring all of yourself into an essay that you normally couldn't have cared less for. But you're willing to do whatever it takes to keep yourself busy. You know your thoughts will stray the moment you're lying quietly in bed anyway, awaiting another sleepless night.

You finish the sentence and look up, satisfied with your work. Apparently it's been a while since you've torn your gaze away from the parchment before you, seeing how stiff your neck is. You knead at the uncomfortable knot in your shoulder while looking around the library. It's relatively full today with every other seat being taken.

Which makes it all the more irritating when your gaze snatches on a figure sat at the other table right across from you. He's not even looking up, head bent over a book, but you would recognise that mop of unruly dark curls anywhere. James must've seen you when he came in, but that might have just been your hopeful self speaking.

Begrudgingly, you resume your writing and it takes everything in you not to look up every few minutes. To glimpse the slight furrow in his brows and the small pout of his lips as he's carefully reading every paragraph. You know he's likely looking for something to prepare for a prank. Normally, you would simply go over and ask him what he's up to. You know he'd happily tell you. But you're glad to have at least a little bit of pride and dignity left that keeps you rooted in your spot.

Seemingly not enough though since all you can think about is that there's no way he doesn't know that you're right there. It really does make you want to bang your head against the table. Maybe that would finally catch James' attention.

Pathetically, you glance at him only to notice that he's packing his things to leave. The tip of your feather goes back to the parchment so fast, it almost pierces it. You haven't got a clue what you're writing, too busy tracking James' movements from the corner of your eyes.

You watch him stand up, walking down the length of his table towards the door down the hall on his right. Then he stops. You hold your breath. James seemingly hesitates before fixing the strap of his bag on his shoulder. He turns left and walks towards you. You're staring at your hand as it writes illegible words, completely out of your control, when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

"Hey," James whispers when you look up, giving you a familiar grin and small wave. It's an innocent gesture, sweet, but there's almost something hostile about this encounter. Like you have no choice but to let him occupy every single one of your senses. You stare up at him, a matching smile sweeping over your lips before you can think better of it.

That's when you notice the scarf he's wearing and its frizzled ends. It's yours. You know it is.

Did he not give it back to you after one of your nights out together on the stands? After you had flown on your brooms, so close to the sea of stars that you could've dipped your fingertips in them? You could almost hear the echoes of your windblown laughters as the memory pushes itself into the foreground of your mind.

James is sitting still, rosy-cheeked, watching you with curious eyes while you babble on about the Leo constellation. He had just told you that you could do whatever you want to him—another quite maddening thing to casually say to someone—and now he's apparently keen on staying true to his word by letting you wrap your scarf around his neck.

It took some convincing before he'd finally accepted it from you. You promised that you wouldn't be cold with your high collared sweater, but James only gave in when you had accepted his wool hat in exchange.

He had carefully put it on you, smoothing down your hair and pulling out some loose strands to frame your face, mumbling something about how much lovelier his hat looked on you than on him. You told yourself that he surely must've known what it did to you when his knuckles brushed your cheeks. Right? Surely.

James pokes your side, chuckling, as if he sensed that your mind was drifting elsewhere. He cracks another joke, saying that if you were the one to teach him Astronomy, he might actually pay attention in class. He says it like it's a deal and you feel inclined to do whatever it takes to hold up your side of the bargain.

You laugh helplessly, feeling drunk on a little bit of everything; the stars above, James' gentle laughter, the familiar smell of broom wax and crisp winter air. This must be cosmic love, you think to yourself. Your breath clouds in front of you, becoming one with his. All the while, you're too aware of James' shoulder bumping into you, his leg pressed against yours. There's no one out here but you two.

You have all the room in the world, but James chose to sit this close to you. Probably close enough for him to hear your heart pounding. Did he do it for a reason? You'd love to know.

"You don't need me to pay attention in Astronomy," you find yourself saying in response, something daring laced in the drawl of your voice. His eyes flashes, bright and a bit wild. It's the same look he gets after you challenge him to a race on your brooms. His grin grows wide, carefree, and oh so lovely.

"Please." His face comes impossibly closer and you lean in without another thought, eager to take whatever it is James will give you. You feel his breath on your lips.

"I will always need you, Y/N."

Somehow he makes it sound genuine.

Then he winks and leaves you a horrid, forsaken mess. Somehow he makes that feel like a nice gesture too.

Incredulously, you stare at him as he leans back, elbows resting on the seats behind him. James Potter, you think weakly, what are you doing to me? Not for the first time you ponder what you would do if you can't have him. You almost double over from the striking pain in your chest.

Then he points out another constellation and you nearly forget all about yourself. He's good at that. Never ceasing to show you that the world is bigger than the two of you. Making you forget and remember that you might be in love. Because what if you were in love?

James cups the back of his neck, then points towards the door of the library, almost shyly letting you know that he's leaving. You nod slowly, still dazed. A small smile crosses his lips before you watch him round the corner, his back disappearing from your sight.

You blink, letting out a ragged breath. You feel like you got the wind knocked out of you. Like you just lost your twin. Someone who knows you like no one else ever will. Someone who might just be your better half. Someone who sometimes makes you feel like they want nothing to do with you.

It's ridiculous, you think bleakly to yourself, you're so down bad.

And James Potter makes it feel like a curse and a blessing.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter fanfiction #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #marauders fanfiction #marauders #taylor swift #ttpd #the tortured poets department

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emry-stars-art · 5 months

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Emey can I change you and ask for number 5 with Seth/Allison? I understand if not considering you don't draw Seth often <3

Maybe not but that is not to say I won’t draw him 😘

Requests are open until the end of Dec ‘23 💕

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starryhyuck · 5 months

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pairing: ex!jaehyun x afab!reader

words: 9.2k+

summary: you left with jaehyun’s son three years ago. an opportunity arises that may push you together for better or for worse.

genre: angst, fluff, smut

warnings: penetrative sex, rough sex, public sex, daddy kink, pussy eating, cum eating, creampies, breeding kink, spanking, possessiveness, some yandere vibes

“Got yourself all dressed for dad?”

Your five-year-old son hums happily, thumbs looped through his backpack straps like he’s afraid it’s going to run away from him. You smile and comb your hands through his hair, slightly frightened by how fast he’s growing.

The knock on the door takes you out of your head before you can dwindle on how your son is slipping away from you. You smile at Jaehyun behind the door, who offers a tight-lipped one in return.

You kneel down once more and tap on your cheek. “Give me a kiss before you leave, sprout.”

Your son giggles before planting a messy kiss on your cheek, wrapping his tiny arms around your neck.

“Bye, mom! I love you!” He practically hops away from you in excitement, running into his dad’s arms with pure joy.

You nod politely at your ex, who wraps his arms around your son and holds him to his chest.

“Hey, little bear. Missed you,” Jaehyun laughs, kissing your son’s forehead.

“I missed you too, dad!”

You clear your throat. “Do you want me to come pick him up on Sunday?”

Jaehyun’s eyes return to you, cold and distant like they have been for the past three years. “I could drop him off, it’s no issue. I canceled all my meetings on Sunday.” You wonder if he’s trying to imply something, as if the time taken off means anything to you.

You brush it off. “Sounds good. Be good to your dad,” you give a final warning to your son, who does nothing but wave his hand in return.

You’re about to close the door until Jaehyun quietly speaks up. “I needed to ask you something.”

You ignore the loud sound of your heartbeat in your ears. You simply nod, urging him to continue. He clears his throat, feeling a bit awkward as your son impatiently waits for his dad to take him to his other house. It’s rare for Jaehyun to linger around like this.

“My parents — they’re having that annual anniversary party again in Seoul. They asked me to invite you.”

You’re surprised, to say the least. You haven’t been invited to an anniversary party since you and Jaehyun separated. His family was extremely heartbroken when you left and as a result, you haven’t communicated with them since. The anniversary party, however, was a huge celebration in the Jeong family. It was a mark of success since Jeong Corporation opened almost twenty years ago, and the company has now founded themselves as one of the largest in Seoul.

“Um,” you stutter, unsure of what to say. You understood what the anniversary party implied — one whole weekend with your former second family and more importantly, Jaehyun.

“Don’t- You don’t have to make a decision now. You can tell me on Sunday if you’re ready.”

You nod reluctantly, and he sends you another tight-lipped smile before departing. You watch as he and your son drive away, leaving a hole in your heart as they go.

—

“No way. He wants to fuck you again!”

“Johnny!” You scold, feeling extremely embarrassed already. “He is not! He’s just trying to be a good son, you know how he is.”

Johnny laughs sarcastically. “Yeah fucking right. Dude, it’s the Jeong anniversary party. That shit is photographed like crazy. He knows what he’s doing when he’s inviting you to go with him.”

“He’s not inviting me to go with him,” you clarify for him, even though Johnny is throwing you a side eye as you hand him a cup of warm tea. “He’s just inviting me to attend.”

He rolls his eyes. “Please. He’s been waiting for this moment with you for so long. Especially after you left him like that.”

You swing at Johnny’s arm, causing him to clutch it dramatically and hold the end of your kitchen counter as if you just shot him. You glare at him. Even though it was still a sore subject, he found a way to bring it into conversation from time to time since he thought it was the worst decision you had ever made.

It was three years ago when you left Jaehyun, taking your son and finding a new place all to yourselves. Jaehyun was shocked to say the

least, heartbroken that the love of his life took his child and ran. It obviously wasn’t your first choice, but you spent too long waiting for him to come home only to be disappointed continuously. Jaehyun was just starting to become a big name within the company, wanting to work up the ladder and prove himself to his father and to the public. As a result, he spent most nights sleeping in his office and growing farther apart from you and your son. You reached a point where you couldn’t handle being abandoned any longer, leaving him and giving him his first wake-up call.

Jaehyun, like everyone else, thought you were only playing a game with him at first. No one believed you would actually separate from each other, especially because you two were so in love. However, you decided you needed to do what was right for your son. You couldn’t handle the lonely nights when your son would ask when his dad was coming home.

The custody agreement was simple, and Jaehyun agreed to whatever terms you laid out for him. You allowed your son to see Jaehyun every other weekend, and Jaehyun made sure to take work off whenever he had him. He was really trying, which you could see, but it wasn’t enough.

You’re not sure if it’ll ever be enough again.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” you mumble to Johnny, already mentally rejecting the idea of attending the Jeong anniversary party. “I mean, you know us. Our feelings get carried away all the time.”

Johnny frowns. “Are you saying you still have feelings for him?”

You sigh. Johnny has been your number one support system since you left Jaehyun, and despite his help towards adjusting you to a life as a single mother, he always rooted for the two of you to get back together.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” you say clearly, stirring around the small spoon in your cup. You refuse to look up, knowing he can read you like an open book. “I’m just saying that being together for that long can cause cloudy judgment, you know? Plus, I don’t want anything to become confusing for all parties included.”

He shrugs, knowing you’re mainly talking about your son’s inability to understand why his mom and dad are suddenly spending time together. “I think the little sprout would like to have a weekend with both of his parents. He hasn’t had that since two birthdays ago.”

You recall your son’s third birthday party, which was the first festivity after the split. You awkwardly invited Jaehyun to come since you felt obligated, but it only resulted in tension while cutting the cake and opening presents.

“I know,” you whisper, feeling down. Your son asks you from time to time why his dad doesn’t stay when Jaehyun drops him off after a weekend together, and it always breaks your heart when you have to gently explain that his dad has work to attend to. Seeing the dejected look on your son’s face reminds you why you decided to leave in the first place. “But don’t you think it’s weird? Why would his family even want to see me again? I thought they hated me for leaving Jaehyun.”

“Yeah right,” Johnny laughs. “You saw the headlines after you guys split. Jaehyun started fighting so often with his parents. You know they loved you to death.”

“That might have been true before. I’m still the bitch who stomped all over their son’s heart and took their grandson away.”

“Hey,” Johnny scolds, hating when you speak lowly of yourself. “Anyone with eyes could see he was treating you miserably. It was completely fair for you to have temporary space.”

You ignore the fact that he implies the separation is still temporary.

“I’m just not sure, John. I don’t think it’s a smart idea.”

“Well, I think it’s a great one,” he smiles, brushing off your heated glare. “Listen, you can’t keep ignoring him like he’s the plague. If you don’t want the little sprout to have daddy issues when he’s older, you need to start getting along with Jae better. Just act civil, that’s all anyone’s asking of you.”

You chew on your bottom lip. “Will you come get me if I text you?”

“In a heartbeat.”

Your shoulders eventually slump in defeat, and Johnny throws his arms up in victory.

—

You’re extremely anxious when Sunday afternoon arrives, which is usually when Jaehyun comes by to bring your son back. You try to shake the nerves out and remind yourself to do what Johnny told you.

Just be civil. You can do that.

You nearly jump out of your socks when Jaehyun finally knocks on the door. You shakily open it, offering him a small smile as your son comes barging through. He attaches himself to your leg, grinning widely as he waves a new coloring book in his hand.

“Look what dad got me!”

“Wow,” you speak incredulously, kneeling down to give him a kiss. “That was very nice of him. Did you say thank you?”

“Yes!” He exclaims with glee. “Can I go color, please?”

You laugh. “Give your father a kiss goodbye first, sprout.”

Your son hurriedly kisses his father’s cheek when Jaehyun leans down, rushing off to his room afterwards.

You chuckle again. “You didn’t have to do that. Thank you.”

Jaehyun hums. “Of course. He really wanted it, and I wanted to do something special for him.”

You nod and the conversation settles into unbearable silence. You start gathering the courage to accept Jaehyun’s invitation before you wimp out but he talks before you can get the chance.

“Listen, about what I said on Friday, you can forget about it if it makes you uncomfortable. I didn’t want you to feel obligated, I just knew if I didn’t pass along the message, I would get hit on sight.”

You smile, thinking about how dangerous his mother could be when her son disobeys. “No, it’s completely fine. I mean, if it’s still okay with you, I would like to go.”

His eyes light up in surprise, and it’s the first time Jaehyun’s let his guard down with you in a while.

“Really? I didn’t think you’d want to.”

You shrug. “I think it would be nice. I’m sure the little sprout would enjoy a weekend with both of his parents too.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, smiling genuinely. You forgot how much you missed seeing him so happy, dimples peeking out. “I know he would. He was talking about how excited he was today, getting dressed in a little suit and everything.”

Your heart warms at the thought of your son dressed so handsomely. “He would be adorable. Center of the party, I’m sure.”

“Of course. You know my mother never misses a chance to show him off,” he chuckles.

“Well, I look forward to seeing what they’re going to try and pull off this year. I’m assuming your mother is making it as lavish as possible,” you joke, knowing how elated his mother was when the Jeong Corporation finally gained enough funding to throw a large-scale party.

“You know it,” he agrees, eyes sparkling in the way they used to. “I could, um, I could give you more details if you’d like.”

“Oh,” you say, feeling slightly flushed. “Sure, that sounds nice.” You open the door wider for him, stepping back so he can come inside.

It’s the first time you’ve really invited Jaehyun in. He came once for your son’s birthday party and a few other times because your son really wanted to show Jaehyun some toys from his room, but never once fully initiated by you.

“Can I heat up some coffee or tea for you?” You ask politely.

“Coffee would be wonderful, thank you,” he says, following you to the kitchen.

He takes a seat on one of the kitchen stools — the same spot where Johnny told you that Jaehyun clearly wanted to fuck you again. You clear your throat, tossing the memory aside.

“So, is there a dress code for the party? Do I need to go out and get anything?” You question, starting to brew Jaehyun’s favorite blend. The both of you choose to ignore the fact that you still remember how to make his coffee just the way he likes it.

“They were endorsing a blue and white theme this year, but you don’t have to follow those rules, of course,” he assures you.

You shake your head, turning back to him and smiling. “I will one hundred percent abide by that dress code. You know how picky those businesspeople are.”

He chuckles to himself, fiddling with his fingers nervously. You wonder if he’s just as anxious as you are.

“Right, forgot about that. So I’ll come pick up you and the little bear Friday night?”

You nod. “That would be nice. Thanks, Jaehyun.”

“Of course,” he replies, thanking you when you hand him his coffee. “The party shouldn’t last for more than two to three hours on Saturday, but you know how my father gets with the speeches.”

“He’s just proud, that’s all. It’s not everyday a company you built from the ground turns so successful.”

He nods. “Every company comes with its sacrifices though.”

You swallow at him alluding to your separation. Luckily, you’re saved by your son, who comes running into the kitchen.

“Dad!” He exclaims happily. “You’re still here!”

Jaehyun laughs. “Just having a conversation with your mom, little bear. Did you color something already?”

Your son nods, already eager to showcase his coloring skills. Jaehyun situates him on his lap, listening as your son details the process of what colors he chose and what the monkey is doing exactly in the picture.

You grow fond at the sight, not seeing Jaehyun with your son like this in so long. You never doubted that Jaehyun loved him with his entire heart, you just always wished he made more time for the both of you.

“And who did you color this for, little bear?” Jaehyun asks softly, kissing his son’s temple.

“Mom, of course!” Your son says with certainty, and Jaehyun helps him rip the picture out of the book so he can hand it to you.

“Thank you so much, sprout. I’ll cherish it forever,” you promise, clutching the paper to your chest.

Your son has an affinity for coloring and drawing, and as a result, most of your fridge and walls were covered in his artwork.

“I’ll make one for you too, dad,” your son swears, wiggling out of Jaehyun’s arms until he’s back on the floor. The both of you watch him zoom off, warning him not to run too fast.

Jaehyun smiles. “I should get him those coloring books for adults. I feel like he would love them.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Yeah right. He only enjoys these because they have animals in them. Give him a crazy pattern and he’ll give up coloring forever.”

He laughs before agreeing with you. A part of you missed this — the happy laughter and talks of your son with someone who also wanted the best for him.

“My mother’s set up a private cabin for us for the weekend,” he shares, avoiding your stare. “But I can always have the driver take you and the little bear back here if that makes you uncomfortable.”

“Oh,” you say, briefly surprised by the fact that Jaehyun’s mother set all of you together. You would think she wants you as far away from her son as possible.

Jaehyun takes your response badly, face twisting into a grimace. “It’s no problem. I’ll tell Doyoung that you would prefer coming back here instead of staying the weekend.”

“No!” You exclaim, flushing by how loud your voice rose. “I mean, I was just shocked your mother did that for us. I thought she didn’t like me anymore.”

Jaehyun’s eyebrows shot up. “My mother? The same one that wanted to buy us an island when we told her about the pregnancy?”

You chuckle. “That was out of the kindness of her heart, Jaehyun.”

“Please,” he scoffs. He takes the coffee mug you hold out for him. “She loves you more than anything. Nothing between us would change that.”

You smile, ignoring the nerves slowly creeping up every inch of your body.

—

“Johnny, put that back!”

“Why? It’s sexy!”

You grab one of your throw pillows and chuck it at Johnny’s head. He dodges just in time, rolling his eyes and putting your lingerie back in your drawer.

“I’m just saying, you never know what’s going to happen. You’ll regret it later when you’re trying to fuck Jaehyun and you have nothing but granny panties.”

“I regret asking you to help me pack,” you sigh, trying your best to fit everything you need this weekend for you and your son in a small suitcase.

“I’m going to ignore that comment since I’m willingly giving up my Friday afternoon for you. When was the last time you went shopping?” He asks.

It actually takes you a minute to stop and think about your answer. Ever since your son was born, your wardrobe has mainly consisted of haphazard pajamas. The only time you really went out and purchased clothes is if you were attending one of Jaehyun’s fancy events.

“All of these clothes are way out of season! How have I not noticed this before?” Johnny complains, rifling through your drawers. “We need to go shopping.”

You groan. “It’s too late for that. Jaehyun is picking us up tonight!”

The doorbell rings and you sigh again, massaging your temples in an attempt to make the headache go away. Johnny takes pity on you and answers the front door himself. You hear hushed whispers before he comes back into your bedroom, a smile on his face as he carries a large box in his hands.

Your eyebrows furrow. “What’s that?”

“A special delivery from one Mr. Jeong Jaehyun,” Johnny replies, a smirk evident on his lips.

You’re still trying to recover from the shock of Jaehyun sending you anything before you realize Johnny’s ripping open the box. He looks like a kid on Christmas morning and you can’t help but lean over to see it too.

In the box is a beautiful, satin white dress that looks like a red wine lover’s worst nightmare. However, you can barely focus on the color when you can recognize exactly where this dress is from.

“Dude,” Johnny says in a small voice, sounding breathless. “It’s your wedding dress.”

And if this wasn’t your wedding dress — it sure as hell looked a lot like it. You remember the day you picked it out, insisting on going for a modern style instead of a princess ball gown. It was a simple, off-shoulder, stark white dress that you envisioned yourself wearing while walking down the aisle to Jaehyun.

And three years ago, you cried when you donated it to a local thrift store, refusing to continue to store memories of what could’ve been in the back of your closet.

You thought you would never see it again.

“He said the theme was blue and white, right?”

Johnny brings you out of your train of thought. You cough, avoiding his questioning gaze.

“Yeah.”

“Hm.”

“What?”

You narrow your eyes at his suggestive tone. He shrugs.

“I think you’re going to have an interesting trip.”

—

“Hi, dad!”

“Hi, little bear!”

Your heart melts at the sight of Jaehyun and your son together. Jaehyun’s all smiles while he straps your son into his carseat, dimples peeking out. Once he’s settled, he turns to you as he shuts the car door. You awkwardly step around each other as he helps you with your bags and you slip into the front seat.

The drive to the cabin you’ll be staying at for the weekend is about an hour from your place, which means you have two choices — you could pretend to sleep and avoid speaking to Jaehyun altogether, or you could bite the bullet and make as much small talk as you possibly can.

Jaehyun makes the decision for you.

“So how’s work?”

You muster a smile. “It’s alright. I think I’m going to get promoted soon.”

He laughs. “It’s about time. I’ve never seen anyone else at that company work harder than you.”

You stutter at the compliment. You always forget how charming Jaehyun is, and how easy it is for him to make you feel like a teenager all over again.

You can’t hold back your next question. “Where did you find it? The dress?”

His fingers tighten on the wheel.

“It’s just a dupe I found online.”

But the response sounds too rehearsed. Too practiced. It’s almost like he had been preparing himself for when you would inquire about it.

“Jaehyun,” you whisper, and he knows you can tell that he’s lying.

He sighs, looking through the rearview mirror to check if your son has already drifted off before proceeding. “When you donated it, Doyoung found out and I asked him to buy it back. I know it’s your dream dress, and it’s my fault you never got to wear it. I just wanted you to have a night where you could finally show it off.”

You don’t know why, but you feel tears welling up in your eyes. The idea that Jaehyun kept your dress for you all these years tugged at your heartstrings. If the dress was a reminder to you of your failed relationship, you can’t imagine what he felt when he came across it in his own home every single day.

You turn your head to look out the window so he wouldn’t see your crushed expression.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I did. You deserve at least that, and so much more. For now, unfortunately, this is all I can give you.”

The two of you remain silent for the rest of the trip and you’re relieved when he pulls into the cabin’s driveway. You both fall into a familiar pattern as you get out to grab your son and he heads to the trunk to take out your luggage. You’re careful to unbuckle your son from his carseat in fear of waking him, and you relax when he’s in your arms, still sound asleep.

Jaehyun opens the front door and you marvel at the beauty of the cabin once you’re inside. You’re not surprised in the slightest that Jaehyun’s mother hooked you up with an extremely lavish place for the weekend.

“Upstairs, first door to the right,” Jaehyun whispers, and you realize he’s telling you where your son will be sleeping.

After you’ve tucked him in and made sure he’s out for the night, you tiptoe back downstairs.

Jaehyun looks like he doesn’t know what to do with himself, fumbling around with the television remote, pacing in front of the entertainment dock.

“So, um, what room will I be in?”

“Oh yeah,” he says uncomfortably, quickly grabbing your luggage. “Let me show you.”

He leads you down a hallway off from the living room, opening one of the many doors and setting your stuff inside.

“Here’s your room. I, um, I’m just across the hall. There’s also another room upstairs if you want to sleep closer to the little bear but it’s a lot smaller and doesn’t have a connecting bathroom so I figured-“

“This is great, Jaehyun. Thank you.”

He clears his throat and nods, quickly shuffling out of the room. He pauses in the entryway as he’s closing the door, something clearly lingering on his mind.

“You don’t have to wear the dress tomorrow, it was inconsiderate of me to assume you would want to. I’ll have Doyoung pick up something different in the morning for you to wear.”

Before you could protest, the door shuts. You sigh and run your hands down your face.

This was going to be a long weekend.

—

You and Jaehyun barely exchange any words the next day.

As promised, a new, navy blue dress hangs outside your door when you wake up. You fail to confront Jaehyun about it since he spends most of the morning playing with your son at a nearby creek. In all honesty, you want to wear your wedding dress. On the outside, it wasn’t too flashy since you refused to add a train or any embellishments, and it was perfect for a formal event like the anniversary party. On the inside, everything Jaehyun said yesterday was correct — this was your dream dress, and you wanted to just have this one occasion to finally show it off.

You call Johnny before Jaehyun and your son return, and he happily picks up on the second ring.

“Got fucked yet?”

“You’re despicable.”

Johnny’s joyous laughter is grating to your ears.

“It’s so awkward, Johnny. We had this weird conversation about the dress so he had Doyoung get me a new one, but I actually really want to wear my wedding dress. Is that crazy?”

“Nope,” he replies, popping the last syllable for emphasis. “I think you’re just afraid of what wearing the dress means for you.”

“What are you talking about?”

He clicks his tongue, and you can picture him shaking his head at your alleged stupidity. “Think about it. The last time you wore this dress, you were engaged and about to marry the love of your life. Don’t you think wearing it again is going to spark up any old feelings?”

You ponder over the idea for a moment before shaking your head. Johnny was wrong — you just wanted to wear this dress because you liked it. You convince yourself there are no lingering feelings you should be worrying about.

“You’re full of shit.”

“Uh huh. We’ll see about that.”

However, later that night when you slip into the dress, you understand exactly what Johnny was talking about. You used to have vision boards of this dress plastered on your living room walls, picking what flowers and color scheme you wanted to compliment it. You remember Johnny even photoshopping you in this dress next to Jaehyun in his suit, the both of you standing in front of what was supposed to be your dream venue.

The memories come back to you like a tidal wave. Jaehyun planning the perfect dinner for the two of you when you were six months pregnant. Jaehyun proposing to you that night, tears in his eyes as he confessed how much he loved you. Welcoming your son into the world three months later. Trying on the dress again after his birth, worrying your body would look too different. Jaehyun getting the dress re-tailored for you when your insecurities started to affect your daily life. Your son crying night after night while his father stayed late working in his office. Postponing the wedding every year because Jaehyun was too busy. Shoving the dress in the back of your closet because you couldn’t stand to see it any longer. Finally getting the courage to pack up your things and leave, taking the dress with you. Giving it away when you felt like you needed to close this chapter of your life. The chapter where Jaehyun was supposed to be your eternal love.

You don’t even realize you’re crying until the door creaks open.

“Mom, why are you sad?”

You immediately straighten yourself and wipe away your tears, turning to see your son at the door with his head tilted in concern. You laugh when you see his suit is half buttoned.

“I’m not sad, little sprout,” you smile, walking over to him and scooping him in your arms. “I’m so excited for tonight! Look at my handsome boy!”

He giggles when you press kisses to his cheek.

“Mom,” he whines. “Help me!”

You keep your smile on as you help him fix his suit, and you hear the door creak open again when you’re on the last button.

If Jaehyun notices the redness in your eyes, he doesn’t comment on it.

“Little bear, why don’t you finish your dinner before we head out? Don’t want you getting hungry.”

Your son obediently follows Jaehyun’s orders once you’re finished buttoning his suit, running to the kitchen to eat his meal.

You walk back to the full length mirror in the corner of the room in an attempt to make yourself look as presentable as possible. You can feel his eyes on you, burning a hole in your back.

“You look beautiful.”

You falter, fingers shakily trying to put your earring on. “Thank you.”

“I thought you wanted to wear a different dress.”

“No, I actually want to wear this one.”

“Oh, okay.” A pause. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Jaehyun. Can you make sure Doyoung has coloring books and crayons in the car? In case the little sprout gets bored.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that,” he nods, and you lock eyes with him in the mirror.

He doesn’t say anything else but you know he’s worried about you. He purses his lips before closing the door, and you sigh in relief when you hear his footsteps fade away.

—

“Nice to see you again.”

You grin as you envelope Doyoung in a hug. The last time you saw Jaehyun’s assistant was almost three years ago at the last anniversary party you attended. Doyoung had always been a very loyal right-hand man to Jaehyun, and he used to be one of the constants in your life.

“You look gorgeous,” he compliments, his bunny teeth peeking out.

You thank him and he helps you and your son climb into the car, Jaehyun following after. Doyoung takes the driver’s seat and rolls up the partition so you can have some privacy. You wish he would do the opposite and make small talk with you, especially since you could cut the tension between you and Jaehyun with a knife.

Your son is seated between the two of you and he plays a helpful role in the awkward atmosphere. He starts asking Jaehyun questions about the party and who will be there, which Jaehyun answers patiently as your son bombards him with question after question.

You start fiddling with the fabric of your dress, the satin slipping between your fingers. When you look up, you see Jaehyun’s eyes locked on you, and it makes you wonder how differently this picture would have looked years ago.

This car would’ve been driving to your wedding venue with your son as the ring bearer. You would be leaning over to capture every moment of Jaehyun’s lips before you would have to kiss in front of hundreds of guests, a thought that always rattled you. You would have a bouquet of daisies bunched up in your hand, similar to the ones Jaehyun gave you on your first date. You would be scared of your veil tearing, trying your best to make sure your son didn’t accidentally rip it. All while Jaehyun stares at you like you hold the world in your hands, his fingers interlacing with yours to assure you everything would be okay.

You imagine he’s thinking the same as you if the longing in his eyes is anything to go by. But then the car hits a speed bump, forcing you to break eye contact. He returns to answering your son’s questions and you start playing with your dress again.

When you finally arrive at the Jeong Corporation building, you’re immediately greeted by your former mother-in-law.

She wraps you in her arms as soon as you step out of the car, and if you didn’t know any better, you would say she’s trying to strangle you by the sheer force of her strength.

“My favorite daughter!”

You flush at the greeting, remembering it was her favorite nickname for you. You catch Jaehyun carrying your son from the corner of your eye, his ears blooming red from embarrassment.

“Hi, Mrs. Jeong,” you reply, reciprocating her embrace.

She releases you to step back and take a look at your form. She looks exactly the same as she did three years ago, and you feel her manicured hand stroke your cheek.

“Look at you. Still so beautiful.”

You smile, slowly feeling your nerves dissipate. Maybe Johnny was right — maybe Jaehyun’s family didn’t actually hate you, they just missed you.

Her gaze flickers to her grandson, and she coos at him as she takes him from Jaehyun.

“And here’s my strong tiger! So handsome tonight!”

“Grandma!” Your son exclaims happily, chubby hands wrapping around her neck.

She gestures for you and Jaehyun to follow her inside the building as she begins walking. You share a glance with him before coming to a silent agreement, looping your arm through his in an attempt to show solidarity. You ignore the ache in your feet and the thumping of your heart, keeping your eyes trained on Jaehyun’s mom animatedly speaking to your son. She guides you to the conference room on the main floor, where the party is being held.

She turns to you once you’re at the entrance. “I’m going to take him to meet Yoojin, she’s been begging to meet my grandson. And don’t you two worry, I’ll take him back with us when the party’s over. He needs to spend some quality time with his grandparents! Have a fun night together!”

And before you can protest, she’s disappeared into the crowd, taking your son along for the ride.

Jaehyun curses. “I’m sorry. Let me catch her and let her know we want him to come back to the cabin with us.”

You stop him with a firm tug on his arm. He stares at you in confusion.

“It’s okay, let her take him. She’s right — he hasn’t had quality time with his grandparents for a while.”

He slowly nods and slips his arm back through yours. You both don’t know where to begin for the night now that your conversation helper is gone. The first stop you choose is the open bar while Jaehyun starts his formal thank you parade around the floor. You’re waiting for your drink when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

You turn to see Seulgi, who is practically beaming at you.

“I was wondering if it was you!” She giggles and hugs you tightly.

Seulgi worked as head of marketing for Jeong Corporation, and you used to chat with her quite a lot whenever you visited Jaehyun in the office.

“I can’t believe you’re here, I haven’t seen you in forever,” she hums, sitting on the barstool next to you. She tells the bartender her order before focusing back on you. “How have you been?”

“I’m good,” you chuckle, a little floored by her presence. You forgot that attending this party meant you would also be running into all of Jaehyun’s colleagues that you used to be friendly with. “How have you been?”

She huffs. “Swamped with work, but this party is always a nice change of pace. Did you come with Jaehyun?”

You also remember how Seulgi doesn’t beat around the bush.

“Yes, I came with him and our son.”

“Oh, I have to see him before I leave. I bet he’s all grown up now,” she murmurs. “So you’re all back together then?”

“No, no,” you deny, thanking the bartender when your drink arrives. “Jaehyun just invited me as a plus one this year. Or plus two, I guess.”

She hums noncommittally, throwing a mischievous side eye. Actually, in this moment, you realize how much she resembles Johnny.

You feel a hand graze your back. You look up to see Jaehyun, who’s throwing a timid smile in Seulgi’s direction.

“Sorry, can I steal her for a bit?”

Seulgi smirks knowingly. “You can have her for as long as you need, Mr. Jeong.”

His eyes narrow at her before he’s leading you away from the bar, his hand still sitting firmly on your lower back.

“Sorry to interrupt your conversation,” he apologizes in your ear, sending shivers down your spine at the proximity. “I need you to be my shield for these terribly boring conversations or I’ll melt into a puddle on the floor.”

You giggle. “So you’re throwing me into the dumpster fire?”

“More like I’m having you join me in the flames.”

The rest of the night eases your nerves more and more, and it gets to the point where you’re falling back into your old harmony with Jaehyun. You’re exchanging raised eyebrows when people aren’t looking, sharing your portion of small talk with the guests who approach you, and whispering in each other’s ears when a funny joke pops up. Jaehyun’s mom even swings by with your son a couple of times, giving you and Jaehyun the opportunity to spend some time with him together. You even manage to skirt around the straining questions if you two are back together, telling people you’re just here as friendly co-parents.

Despite that, for the first time in a long time, you felt like a family again.

By the end of the night, you’re climbing back into the car with Jaehyun while his parents wave you off, holding your son in their arms and assuring they’ll take good care of him.

Once they disappear out of view, you sink back and relax. Jaehyun laughs at you.

“Long night, huh?”

“My feet are killing me,” you complain, undoing the straps of your heels and tossing them aside.

His hand instantly comes to your neck, slowly massaging the tense muscles. You remember how he used to do that after every socially draining event you attended, and you lean into his touch.

“Thank you.”

The car runs into another speed bump and the movement causes you to grip onto Jaehyun’s arm, pushing your body into his. You gasp and he grabs your waist to steady you.

His hand feels like someone took a searing hot iron to your skin, and you grip his palm out of instinct. Your eyes glance over at him and you find he’s already looking at you, his other hand still resting steady against your pulse.

You don’t know who moves first.

The next sequence of events passes in a flurry, lips smashing together sloppily, hands flying around. You moan into his mouth and he unbuckles both of your seatbelts so you can climb onto his lap.

“Jae,” you groan, feeling his hands lift up your dress, sneaking up your thighs.

“I fucking missed you,” he says, sucking at your neck.

“Please, Jae,” you whimper, hands curled on the collar of his suit.

His hand firmly cups your clothed cunt and you whine loudly. You missed this — missed how rough he would get with you, how he would take you in front of anyone and everyone just to prove you were his. It’s why you got pregnant way before you planned to, and how you uncovered his desire to fill you raw.

“So fucking wet. This pussy’s all wet for me, isn’t that right?” He hisses in your ear, his deep voice causing you to soak your panties even more.

“Just for you, only for you,” you promise.

He captures your lips again as he pushes your underwear to the side, thumb circling your clit. You cry, hips starting to move on their own accord.

You admit, it’s been a long time since you were intimate with anyone, and it’s made you quite sensitive as a result.

“Want to feel it, baby,” his tongue traces your lower lip. You can start to feel drool pooling out of the corners of your mouth, but you know Jaehyun doesn’t care. If anything, he loves it when you’re sloppy like this. “Want to feel you cum around my fingers. Can you do that for me?”

It’s almost as if his words trigger something deep inside of you, because as soon as two fingers slip in, you’re already reaching your climax. He lets you ride out your high, hips moving back and forth on his fingers as if he was just a toy for your pleasure.

“God, you’re so fucking hot. Want to breed you so badly, baby.”

You gasp at the thought, pulling him into another searing kiss.

And that’s how Doyoung finds you, straddling Jaehyun’s lap with remnants of your orgasm leaking onto his trousers, lips desperately connected for more.

“Um, we’re back.”

You almost scream and Jaehyun pulls you closer to protect you. In your lustful haze, you failed to realize the car had come to a complete stop and Doyoung had opened the door to help you get out.

You’re incredibly embarrassed but Doyoung used to catch you in way more compromising positions before — one time, he had to uncomfortably barge in on Jaehyun fucking you over his desk because one of his shareholders was about to come in for an important meeting. So the fact that you’re still clothed lessens your shame.

You and Jaehyun waste no time, scrambling out of the car and quickly thanking Doyoung before sprinting into the cabin.

As soon as the door’s closed, Jaehyun’s on his knees, pushing up your dress and dragging your hips until you’re perfectly seated on his face. You hear the rip of your underwear but you don’t even care, fingers flying to grip his hair.

“Pretty girl,” he mumbles, tongue darting out to lick at your folds. His hands grasp your thighs, hard enough to leave bruises. “Ride my face, baby. Like you used to in those stuffy restaurant bathrooms, remember?”

Of course you remember. Every time Jaehyun brought you along to a boring business dinner, you always ended up riding his face in the bathroom just to make the night more interesting.

You channel that feeling you used to get, pushing your cunt on his tongue until you start to feel your wetness dripping down your thighs. You can hear the squelch of your pussy riding Jaehyun’s tongue, and it makes your hips move even faster to chase your release.

“S-So fucking g-good, Daddy,” you whine, your climax building in your stomach. “Gonna cum for you.”

You feel him push away in favor of sucking on your clit, three fingers prodding at your entrance. You cry at the intrusion.

“Too much, Daddy!”

“Gotta get you prepped, baby. You remember how hard it is for you to take my cock?”

You couldn’t forget. Jaehyun had to have the perfect body, almost like he was sculpted by the gods. This meant that he was extremely well endowed and most nights, it usually took a lot of prep for him to even fit halfway into your pussy.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hiss when his fingers curl. “Gonna cum, gonna cum.”

You have never felt more grateful to Jaehyun’s mom until that moment, because the sound of your loud moans would normally be leading towards a noise complaint from the neighbors, but since the cabin was the only house for miles, you could be as loud as you want.

Jaehyun coaxes you through your high, abusing your clit until you beg him to stop, pushing him away from the overstimulation.

When he rises up on his feet, it’s like you two are teenagers again. He’s scrambling to take off your dress without damaging it and you’re clumsily pulling at his belt buckle until it gives. Once your dress has fallen to the ground, he throws his suit jacket somewhere and steps out of his slacks.

“No bra?” He groans, mouth immediately latching onto your nipple.

“Doesn’t- fuck, I can’t wear it with the dress. The straps will show.”

He picks you up like a ragdoll, and you find yourself being thrown over the coffee table, breaking at least three mugs along the way.

“Jae, be careful,” you try to scold him.

He doesn’t give a single fuck, taking his cock out and giving himself a few strokes.

“Raw, baby?”

You whimper, spreading your thighs apart in anticipation. “Yes, please, Daddy!”

The stretch of taking him is not unfamiliar, but it definitely fucking hurts.

“Fuck, fuck, you’re so fucking big,” you wail, hands gripping his shoulders.

“Have you fucked anyone else? Let anyone else inside what belongs to me?” He asks you, his gaze growing more intense.

There’s that possessiveness you remember. You recall every time anyone would try to flirt with you, Jaehyun would drag you home and fuck you until you cried just to show no one else could make you feel like he does. There was even one instance where he fingered you in front of some poor guy at a club, forcing him to watch as you screamed Jaehyun’s name.

“Just one guy,” you hastily confess. “Johnny set us up but he wasn’t good. He wasn’t anything like you, Daddy.”

He nearly growls at the mention of another man being intimate with you, hands pushing your thighs closer to your chest so he can sink deeper into you.

“I’ll kill him,” he whispers harshly down at you. You open your mouth and he’s fast to spit into it, watching you swallow. “I’ll fucking kill anyone who touches what’s mine.”

You groan, pulling him down so you can kiss him. He starts to thrust into you and it’s like you can feel yourself being split in half.

“Don’t act so innocent,” you breathe into his lips. “I’m sure you did the same.”

“Haven’t fucked anyone since you left,” he admits, bottoming out. You mewl and bring him closer. “I watch those movies we used to make and cum into my hand, wishing it was yours. Isn’t that pathetic?”

Early in your relationship, you and Jaehyun used to make a collection of home movies for your eyes only. It ranged from fucking in your old childhood bed to getting railed on a balcony in Paris. It used to be something for you two to look at when you missed each other, but you haven’t seen one in years. Knowing that he still gets off to them makes you even more wet.

“Fuck, you just got so tight, baby,” he groans. “You like knowing that I can only cum to the thought of you? That I picture filling you up every night, imagining you begging for my cock? Does that turn you on, baby?”

You curse loudly, body feeling like it’s on fire. His fingers trail down to pinch your clit and that sends you over the edge, crying and whimpering as you reach your third orgasm of the night.

Your limbs feel like jelly, but you know Jaehyun’s not even halfway done. He made you orgasm six times in one night before, and ever since then, he’s been trying to beat his record.

You feel him lift you up, still attached to his cock.

“I-I can’t, Jae,” you plead, but you know it’s no use anyways.

He places you down in front of the hallway mirror, where a long table stands beneath it, filled with small trinkets and ornaments. He’s quick to push them off, and you wince when you hear glass breaking.

“Jae-“

“Don’t give a fuck, baby. I’ll replace it later. Hands on the table, eyes on the mirror.”

He turns you around so your ass is facing him, and you whine when he gives it a hard slap. You obey his instructions, placing your palms on the wood and focusing on his predatory look in the mirror.

As he pushes back into you, his hand snakes around your middle, pulling you back onto his cock.

“Tell me,” he taunts in your ear. “Tell me how much you missed me.”

“S-So much,” you sniffle. “I fuck myself with that toy you bought me and I pretend it’s you.”

“Yeah?” He snickers, offering another slap to your ass. “What else?”

“I miss you all the time. Miss how I could go to your office and ride you before your next meeting. Miss sucking your cock dry before you left for work. Miss you filling me up until it was dripping out of my pussy.”

He groans, pressing his face into your shoulder and biting down.

“Tell me,” you whisper, starting to feel vulnerable. “Tell me how much you missed me.”

“You know how much I missed you, baby,” he replies, eyes locked on yours through the mirror. “You know and you never need to ask.”

And there’s no other words that need to be said, because you understand exactly what he means. You almost begin to cry at the thought of him coming home to an empty house, searching through every room for you and your son and finding nothing but empty drawers and naked bed sheets.

“Don’t be sad, baby,” he murmurs, gently thrusting into you. “You know I deserved it.”

“I missed you,” you choke out. “I missed you, I missed you, I missed you.”

He tilts the side of your face and pulls you into a kiss, railing you deeper and deeper until your toes scrape the floor.

“Please cum in me, Jae. Please, I need it,” you beg.

“Are you back on birth control, baby?”

You shake your head. “No, but it’s okay. Cum in me raw, it’s okay.”

“Fuck, baby, you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“I do, and I want it,” you whisper to him, interlacing your fingers. “It’s okay, Jae. Fill up my pussy, baby.”

He curses loudly before releasing inside of you, filling you until his cum starts to drip down your thighs.

He’s quick to drop back down to his knees, pulling you to his mouth again so he can send you to another orgasm. You tell him you don’t need another one but he doesn’t listen, fervently eating his cum out of your pussy like it’s his last meal.

You reach your high just like that, with his tongue deep inside you and your hands still gripping the hallway table.

When you come down, he lifts you bridal style and carries you to your bathroom.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, baby.”

—

You wake up to the sound of birds chirping and a large heater pressed against your back. Except the large heater is actually your ex-fiancé, who’s snoring loudly in your ear.

You smile fondly, thinking about the previous night. You reach to check your phone on the nightstand, and roll your eyes at your unread text messages.

[johnnyjsuh]: so what happened? did he fuck you?

[johnnyjsuh]: oh he FOR SURE fucked you, you’re not even reading my texts rn

[johnnyjsuh]: just confirmed with doyoung

[johnnyjsuh]: have fun whore

You feel Jaehyun stir behind you and you place your phone down. He kisses your temple.

“Mm, good morning, baby. Breakfast in bed?”

You smile at the thought and nod, watching him get up and pull on his boxers. However, there’s a lingering voice in the back of your head and you wish you could stop it before it grows, but it’s impossible.

“Jae?” You question before he’s out the door, and he pauses to look at you. “Why did you never get mad?”

He blinks a few times, processing your question. He walks over and sits at the edge of the bed, and you sit up to look at him properly.

“Why would I get mad? You were doing what was best for you and the little bear.”

“But I never told you. I just-“ you place your head in your hands, guilt washing over you. “I just left you.”

You feel him taking your hands away from your face and he tilts your chin up so he can look at you.

“It was a bad situation, and I caused it. You were right — I never came home, I was overworking myself to prove something to the public, and I lost everything because of it. I needed that wake-up call from you. And I should’ve fought for you, I should’ve begged you to come back, but I couldn’t make myself do it. I convinced myself that you were better off without me, and that the little bear deserved a father who was always present. It’s all my fault and I never want to see you blame yourself for my wrongs.”

You frown, taking your hands in his and staring into his eyes.

“Do you really believe that? That all of the blame should’ve fallen on you?”

He nods meekly, suddenly too embarrassed to meet your stare, looking down at the sheets.

“Jae,” you sigh. “You know our relationship held equal weight on both sides. Did I wish you were more present for us? Of course. But it’s also my fault for never communicating to you how frustrated I was. I just didn’t know how, and it resulted in me running away from the problem instead of working through it. I think about that day all the time — what would’ve happened if I just waited for you to come home? What would’ve happened if I told you how I was feeling? It was too difficult for me to process and as much as I was confident in my decision, a part of me wishes I would’ve stayed and talked through it.”

“But you should’ve never been in that position in the first place,” he replies, looking more heartbroken than you’ve ever seen him. “I knew I was working way too hard for something that might not even be achievable. I was so desperate to be accepted that I forgot about my family. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

Your eyes well with tears and you wonder how long he’s carried this guilt with him. You lean over and press a soft kiss to his lips.

“I love you,” you whisper, hands still desperately clutching his. “If you promise me that this time will be different, I want us to be together again. To try and be a family again.”

His eyes sparkle with hope and he kisses you again.

“I promise. I promise I’m here for our family. I’m going to be a better partner and a better father. Thank you.”

“And?” You raise an eyebrow and he laughs, nuzzling his head into your neck playfully.

“And I love you. More than anything in this world.”

His lips chase you until your head hits the pillow. You whine when his hand roughly clutches your waist.

“We-“ he starts to say, kissing down your neck. “We have to go pick up the little bear.”

“In a minute,” you respond, wanting to savor this moment with him. “Let me suck you off first.”

He groans. “Fuck, don’t say shit like that, baby. If we’re on limited time, you know I’m making sure I get you pregnant before you walk out that door.”

You moan. “I’m pretty sure you already did that last night.”

“You never know until a couple of tries later, right?”

He moves to drop his boxers but then he suddenly remembers something, looking bashful as he glances down at you.

“What? What is it?”

“I was a little too rough last night and well, I think your dress got the receiving end of most of it.”

“Jaehyun!”

“I’m sorry, I tried my best not to damage it!”

You roll your eyes and turn over, pushing yourself on your hands and knees.

“Put a baby in me and I’ll forgive you.”

“I fucking love you.”

#nct smut #jaehyun #jaehyun smut

4K notes · View notes

huskersbooze · 20 days

Note

Helloo! Can i Request an alastor x reader angst? (I love angst im sorry😭) where reader n alastor are good friends, but soon alastor starts catching feelings, he didn’t like that so he starts ignoring reader hoping it’ll go away, but when alastor realizes it doesn’t, he wanted to apologize for ignoring reader and maybe confessing, but he couldn’t cause he found out reader got redeemed into heaven? Please and thank you!!

A/N : Oh fuck yes I'm a sucker for angst. This is actually a really interesting concept! Completely opposite to my other fic where Reader ignores Al. Thank you for the ask <3

Alastor Doesn't Do Feelings

Alastor x Reader

Pairing : Alastor x F!Reader (M!Reader here, Gn!Reader here)

Warnings : Cusing(what do you expect? It's Hazbin Hotel)

Additional Tags : Angst, no use of (Y/n), use of dear/darling

Word count : 1.25k

It was never supposed to turn out this way. Alastor, the fucking Radio Demon, doesn't do feelings.

But here he was, finding himself getting flustered, his cheeks red, ears pinned back and his smile faltering.

And it was all because of you.

"-and so I told him to back the heck away, but I swear his brain can't seem to comprehend simple words! He-"

You went on and on about your day, but Alastor could only focus on the close proximity between the two of you and your hand came so close to brushing his every minute or so.

"Alastor! Freaking hell!" He snapped out of his trance when he heard you yell his name.

He cleared his throat, quickly gathering himself once more, "Yes, darling?"

"Were you even listening to me?"

"Of course, I was." Which, frankly, was a lie.

"Just go to bed, dipshit."

"I don't need sleep."

"Your brain is hijacked, Al." You try to give his ears a scratch. Alastor attempts a dodge but fails. "See? You can't even dodge a simple pet on the head."

"I let you do that."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"Darling, you know I don't sleep."

"It was an expression, babe."

He knew you meant it as a joke, a light-humoured name you called him; like how he called you "dear" or "darling".

But he couldn't help the blush that found a way to his face.

"Alastor! You're doing it again!"

"I beg your pardon?" He snaps out from his trance.

"You're dozing off again. Are your radio parts radio-ing properly?"

"I'm not an actual radio, my dear."

"Well, you sure act like a broken down machine." You let out a giggle, him doing the same, but it ultimately sounded like he was buffering.

"You need help." You get up and give him another ruffle behind the ears, catching him off guard. "G'night, Al."

He doesn't respond.

He's too busy screaming internally.

-----

Alastor doesn't do feelings. Yet, here he was a broken mess because of you.

No, this was unacceptable. All he'd work for. His reputation. The danger it'd put you in.

He couldn't afford any of that gone — especially not you.

How was he to get rid of this weird churning he gets in his stomach when you near, though? How was he to stop loving you?

-----

Alastor doesn’t do feelings. He nearly did, once, because of you. But he’d found a way to stop it.

Or so, he thought.

“Good morning, Al.”

Out of everyone in the hotel, you were the one person he could tolerate. Despite your polar interests and behaviour, Alastor actually found it quite enjoyable to be by your side.

Sure, you rarely cursed, was so sweet and couldn’t bare the thought of killing, but Alastor never minded. You were the one person he looked forward to seeing everyday. He would usually only talk to you.

“Husker, may I have a word?” Yet, here Alastor was, completely ignoring your existence like you were some irrelevant imp a few rings down.

“Uh, sure, boss.” Husk sends you a questioning stare as you return the favour.

He didn’t actually have anything to say to him; it just hurt to see you. The feelings still lingered and he couldn’t do jackshit about it.

Staying away from you was only supposed to get rid of his feelings, not intensify them.

“Alastor?” Yet, your voice captivated him in every way possible and his desire to be yours increased.

He simply left the room, and the two of you never spoke after that.

-----

“Alastor doesn’t do feelings, honey.”

“I know, Rosie! But we’re just friends and he knows that.” You take a sip from the tea Rosie prepared for you. “Though, lately, he’s been completely disregarding my presence like I’m the bane of his existence.”

“Don’t look too much into it! I’m sure it’s nothing. It’s just Alastor being Alastor.”

“But it’s not.” You sigh. “Something’s changed between us and I’m not sure what it is.”

“Well, did anything specific happen?”

“I.. I don’t know.” Your voice cracks at the agony. “I just.. Everything was fine that night. I just told him to sleep and the next morning it’s like I never existed.”

“Hm. That does sound odd.”

“Exactly! And I’m not sure what to do or if- if I’ve angered him- or- or maybe he’s sick of me-”

“Honey, breathe.” Rosie’s hand finds yours across the table as she rubs soothing circles on the back of your palm. “It’s in his nature to be sending mixed signals. Just give him time. He’ll come to terms with you eventually.”

“Are.. Are you sure?”

“You came to me for a reason.” She jokes, though her warm smile never left her face.

“Thank you, Rosie.”

-----

Alastor, your beloved strawberry pimp, doesn’t do feelings. He didn’t, he doesn’t and he won’t.

At least, that was before he realised he was catching feelings for you.

He’s tried so hard to ignore it. He’s done everything he could to ignore you, but despite his best efforts, you still found a way to float straight back into his mind.

“Alastor?”

“Yes, darling?” It took him a while to comprehend the fact he accidentally called Husk “darling”. His mind was just filled with thoughts of you.

“Uh.. anyways.” Husk cleared his throat. “You were close with the kid, right?”

“I suppose.” He shrugs, saying it as a matter of fact-ly. “Nothing serious.”

Alastor nearly flinched as he said it himself.

Nothing serious.

But in fact, it was starting to get serious. He was in love with you, head-over-heels obsessed, but he couldn’t come to terms with the fact and decided to push you away.

Fuck. What was he thinking?

“Yes, well I just.. wanted to let ya’ know she’s-”

“In a minute, Husker.” He says, taking off and trying to find you. He had to apologize. He had to talk to you and explain himself. But then, that would mean he had to confess.

Confess. Alastor’s smile widened as he thought of the idea. Blush crept from his face all the way down to his neck and his tail was uncontrollably wagging under his coat.

He loved you.

Turns out, Alastor does, and will do feelings.

-----

“Husker, have you seen her?” After a whole day of looking around the hotel, he couldn’t seem to find you anywhere.

“Her?” He asks, then immediately realising there could only be one her. “I was trying to tell you, boss. The kid.. The kid passed.”

“What?” His smile falters, eyes twitching, but still keeping his composure.

“Some drunk ass dude got hold of an angelic weapon from the last extermination. She was stabbed on her way back from cannibal town.”

The static in his ears were ringing louder by the second. This wasn’t supposed to happen. No, it wasn’t supposed to end like this. He was only supposed to get rid of his feelings, not you.

This whole plan backfired. It was a mistake. He kept what he hadn’t wanted, and lost what he desired.

-----

Alastor doesn’t do feelings.

He does, but only for you. He keeps his heart closed in hopes you’re still somewhere out there.

Any other demon who tries to get with him, ultimately gets turned down.

Alastor doesn’t do feelings, no; but he does feelings. He saves the romantic kind for you. The platonic ones, however, are open doors now because of you.

Alastor didn’t do feelings, but he does now — in hopes he gets redeemed and can find you in heaven.

———[ End. ]———

300 notes · View notes

fuxuannie · 1 year

Note

This is honestly my first time requesting anything so I'm kinda nervous ngl lol.

May I request some HCs with Dan Heng, Jing Yuan and/or Blade with a GN Reader who dislikes physical touches? As in, if someone hugs them and grabs their arm they recoil as fast as they can because they're uncomfortable? And will only be okay with physical affection when it's needed or if it's their partner?

Thank you for possibly considering this request, and have a good day or night :)

* pairing(s) : various hsr men (4) x gender neutral reader

* prompt : request ♡

* authors note : this request is SO me-core, as someone who's horrible with physical touch, i think im the best candidate for this /j thank you for the req and i'm honored im your first! this is really messy, im sorry T.T

DAN HENG was one of the first people to notice your discomfort with physical touch when you joined the Astral Express. March 7th tried to cling onto you, but instinctively you moved out of her way. (and admittedly almost made her stumble and fall doing so.) Profusely apologizing for that little accident, but you never really let people hold onto you.

So when you two got together, Dan Heng was pleasantly surprised with how clingy you really were. Whenever he was working in the Archives, the arms wrapping his waist and leaning on his back couldn't have been anyone else, he didn't wanna ask or point it out, just incase you would've been embarrassed or awkward about it.

Not only giving, but receiving. You used to refuse any form of physical touch but now the way he holds you in his arms is a blessing. You fit so perfectly, like you were meant for him, and he's so glad that you are. He helped you learn to love touch, and you helped him realize he loved to touch.

"I'll be there after work, I promise." You remember JING YUAN saying, and you told yourself you could survive a few hours waiting for him. So there you waited patiently, sitting alone on one of the outdoor tables by the restaurant you planned the date on.

It was almost time for him to arrive, and you were just happy you'd be seeing him soon, but you hear a throat clear behind you. You put your left arm by the back of your seat and turn around. "Hello there!" The man asked, a friendly smile on his face but something felt odd about it. A sixth sense intuition that somehow he didn't have the best intentions.

"You seem to be alone," Oh no. "I can give you a much better time." You force a laugh, flicking your wrist while doing so. "It's quite alright, he'll be arriving any minute now." And that seems to annoy the man, his kindness running thin. "Listen, he's clearly not interested-"

His hand goes up to grab your arm on the chair, but in one swift movement, you stand up and pull away. "Please. Do not touch me so casually." You say sternly, sending a glare towards the stranger. But the familiar feeling of a hand around your waist calms you down, you look at your boyfriend, who looks back at you apologetically. The man had long left, realizing who he may or may not have pissed off.

"I'm sorry I couldn't have arrived sooner." He says with a tired sigh. "It's alright, I'm glad you're here."

BLADE doesn't exactly care nor mind, he wasn't much of a touchy person either. But he'll do the little things like locking arms or letting you hold onto him.

He will get annoyed and maybe even confront people when it comes to situations where he feels like he has to. His mere glare can send people off running, so you're greatful to have him around.

You did like it when he'd hug you or hold you. It was rare, but when he let himself rest for a few hours, you're his personal pillow for that time period.

Kafka would mess with him every once in a while, touching your arm and making you feel ever so slightly awkward and the glare Blade gives would scare any ordinary person. She loves the reaction she gets out of him, seeing you get pulled away and his hands on your waist posessively.

"CAELUS, wait-" March 7th and Dan Heng tried to stop him, but suddenly the trailblazer walks up to you and wraps his arms around your figure. The other two expected you two slap him in the face, or something to push him away, but the way you payed no notice to the way he holds onto you surprises them.

"Whaaat..??"

"Oh! Right, this is my partner. Hehe." He'd snicker, already seeing March 7th's absolutely baffled expression. "You have a PARTNER??? AND IT'S (name)?!"

You're known in the Station for being a researcher who despised being touched, most people knew how passive aggressive you'd get depending on how you were touched, and the intentions behind it. "I'm the one exception to that whole thingy they have, I'm just really special." Caelus sparkled in pride, before clearing your throat. "You're about to lose that privilege if you don't let me go and look at some papers."

Caelus apologizes, pulling away as you huff. "Thank you." And you return to your work.

"I still can't believe Caelus pulls.."

"What in the GALAXY is that supposed to mean?!"

#✹ ִֶָ ꐑꐑ entos paw prints #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #jing yuan x reader #dan heng x reader #blade x reader #blade hsr x reader #caelus x reader #caelus hsr x reader

2K notes · View notes

wheeboo · 7 months

Text

wilted | kim mingyu

SYNOPSIS. in which you've contracted hanahaki despite being in a relationship, and it makes you question everything. PAIRING. kim mingyu x gn!reader (ft. jeonghan) GENRE. angst, established relationship, hanahaki au WARNINGS. descriptions of illness (hanahaki disease), mentions of coughing and blood, mention of death, cursing, terms of endearment, miscommunication or honestly lack of communication, depictions of an argument, gyu is a little bit of an ass in this and i'm very sorry about that but it's for the plot, description of hospitals and surgery, unrequited love WORD COUNT. 6.1k

hanahaki disease ( 花吐き病 ) 𑁋 a disease in which the infected coughs up flowers due to unrequited love.

notes: this entire story was inspired from this post which i hoped i was able to stick to :)

A shift has never been this relaxing before.

Normally, you're used to the hectic hustle of weary students aiming to acquire their morning coffees before running to class and impatient corporate workers racing against the clock in the bustling jungle of the city. But today, the scene was drastically different.

The clear blue skies outside were barren of any existence of clouds, the sun rays pouring in through the café windows like warm honey and casting ornate patterns of light and shadow on the rustic wooden tables that filled the vast space. In the midst of this fresh and sunny afternoon, you find yourself standing idly behind the counter, fingers rhythmically tapping on your phone as you shoot a text message to your boyfriend.

[ 04:39pm | y/n ] gyu ! should i bring home something for us to eat tonight? been craving that gimbap from a while ago 💕

The message sends before your attention would be halted by the chime of the doors opening.

You've worked as a barista in this café for the past year while searching (or struggling, to be honest) to get a job in the field you sought for. It's easy to give yourself credit when it comes to plastering on the brightest smile on your face every time the bell above the doors would ring. You can be having the worst day of your life, yet you've mastered the skill of hiding your worries beneath that obnoxious apron and sage green logo-emblazoned hat sat on your head.

It's a bit different this time when the customer who walks in is someone you're beginning to consider a regular at your café.

"Ah, Mr. Yoon," You greet him with a shake of your head and a wide grin. "The usual today, I'm presuming?"

"That is, if you can stop putting down 'Mr. Yoon' on my cup than my first name," he responds teasingly, and it makes you lightly chuckle as you lower your gaze to start tapping in his order on the screen.

Mr. Yoon, as he preferred to be called initially as a running gag, had become a latest fixture in the café, like a light-hearted charm that captures the attention of both you and your co-workers. It's rare to see people like him walk in. His visits were characterised not just by his liking for the café's signature caramel macchiato, but also by the easy banter and warm camaraderie he shared each time he visited that makes your busy shifts a little more bearable.

"Okay, Jeonghan," You reply playfully, reading out his order even though you know it's correct. "One caramel macchiato with a pinch of wit, coming right up."

He lets out a chuckle as he hands you his card with a wink. "You're the best, you know that?"

You flash him one last smile before facing your back towards him to prepare his order. "Flattery will get you anywhere, Mr. Yoon."

You take your time in creating his order, looking up briefly to notice he had sat himself down at one of the tables in the corner of the café. You carefully pour the steamed milk over the espresso and caramel, and when you finish, you place the perfectly crafted caramel macchiato on a tray and carry it over to Jeonghan's table.

"Here you go, Mr. Yoon," You say with a smile, bringing the tray down and placing the cup in front of him. "One caramel macchiato, just the way you like it."

Jeonghan takes a moment to properly observe it, as if examining the crevices of each layer in the cup, before leaning back in chis hair and crossing his arms together. He lets out a relaxing sigh.

"Congratulations, you've earned yourself a perfect score this time." He turns the cup just slightly to show off that you've indeed put the order down under his first name.

You roll your eyes. "Well, I'm glad to have gotten it right."

"It's about time, don't you think?" Jeonghan queries, before taking a sip of the drink, eliciting a satisfied hum. "Mmh, but it was definitely worth the wait. Thank you, Y/N."

You grab the empty tray back in your hands. "If you need me, you know where to find me."

Jeonghan just shoots you one last playful smirk in your direction before you turn away to head back around the counter, pushing yourself through your next set of customers.

However, as time continues to pass so torturously slow, an unusual sensation begins to creep into the core of your chest.

It's like a subtle tickle, a slight tightness to your trachea that you merely dismiss just as fatigue from the dry air as you strap the lid on the order of a cup you're preparing. You take a moment to rub your chest absently, hoping the discomfort will pass, but it lingers.

Yet once you set the order down on the customer's table and dismiss yourself back behind the counter, you let out a small, involuntary cough into the palm of your hand. It's nothing, you tell yourself. You're probably just coming down with a minor cold.

But then, you see it𑁋a very small delicate, pale pink petal resting on your hand where you had covered your mouth, and that's when you feel your heart drop down to your feet.

This can't be happening, You think frantically. Not now. Not like this. You glance around nervously, hoping no one else was watching or waiting for you at the front. The café is still bustling with customers, and the regular chatter continues, completely oblivious to your growing panic.

As you stare at the petal, it begins to crumble, disintegrating into tiny flecks that drift away like dust in the wind down to the floor below. The feeling in your chest, however, remains, and it intensifies. It's like a weight, an ache that refuses to dissipate, and sets the adrenaline to your limbs as you dash towards the employee's only restroom, locking the door behind you.

You place your hands on either side of the sink, the coughs leaving your mouth now bouncing off the walls of the restroom. The coughs wrack your body. Each one doesn't bloom out a petal, but as you release one last cough, you watch as another petal slowly floats down in the sink below your gaze.

Then you look at your reflection in the mirror, and it reveals nothing out of the ordinary. No flowers sprouting from your mouth or bloodstained petals; it was purely only just... fresh petals.

Your mind runs circles. It physically hurts to even think, like twist and turns on an abandoned dirt road. If what you're suffering from is really what you think it is, then your thoughts dash back to him. To Mingyu, whom you've been with for the past two years, and the thought of him makes your heart race. Thinking about him helps just slightly, but not entirely, yet... what is causing this?

You're still in love with Mingyu𑁋you know you are.

You splash cold water on your face, trying to collect your thoughts and the pain wracking your chest. This can't be happening. It's impossible that you'd suddenly develop Hanahaki for someone else.

You quickly take out your phone from your back pocket, punching in your passcode and sliding to your text messages. Your fingers instinctively land on Mingyu's text thread, punching in words in a panic for some help. But when your eyes trail to the last message you sent to him, you notice that it was simply left on... seen.

That's when another cough racks your body, and you can't help but watch in horror as more petals, delicate and pink, fall into the sink, before wilting and crumbling down the drain. It felt like they were mocking you in shame.

Hanahaki disease. An illness described to be acquired from unrequited love.

The doctor explained the options to you: surgery to remove the flowers with the risk of losing your feelings for the person you love, medication to suppress the symptoms with the risk of some side effects, or the most common method𑁋reciprocated love. If the person you love returns your feelings, the disease will fade away on its own. However, if those feelings remain unrequited, the flowers will continue to grow, ultimately suffocating you.

And you would die.

Because that's exactly the kind of news you wanted to torment your life with. It's like a fucking parasite, a cruel insidious joke taking root in your chest. A fucking plant is growing in your fucking chest. Hanahaki disease was rare, but it had chosen you, and it had chosen to do so at the most inconvenient time.

You've heard the stories of the disease from the countless articles you searched on your phone the moment you got back into your car. You've also heard these stories growing up like an urban legend, even in its rarity, at some point becoming deathly afraid of it when you were younger, yet your own family had reassured you that no other person even down to your ancestors had ever been affected with the disease.

You're the first person. How fucking lucky are you.

You were lucky enough to catch it in its early stages, explaining to the doctor that you had never once had any other signs show other than today.

"It doesn't mean you have a lot of time to pick a treatment option," the doctor had said to you as you blankly listened. "I recommend getting it treated as soon as possible, no matter how early it may be, because waiting it out could be detrimental to your state. I'm going to prescribe you some medication to help reduce your symptoms. You can pick up at the pharmacy after this."

But you just... don't understand. None of this has been making sense in your head; it's just been buzzing painfully with confusion, and if anything, making you feel even worser than the actual disease plaguing your body itself. You've always been faithful to Mingyu; you've never harboured romantic feelings for anyone else other than him. You tell him that you love him, and he tells you that he loves you too.

Yet here you are, coughing up petals that seem to defy logic and the rules of this damn disease, trying to think of someone, anyone, who may have slipped past a crack in your heart somewhere.

But it all draws a blank, yet it's the only thing in mind that can be causing all this.

The doctor's words echo in your mind. Surgery came with the risk of losing your feelings for Mingyu, something that you couldn't bear to imagine. Medication can help suppress the symptoms temporarily, but it wouldn't cure the underlying cause. That left you with the most daunting option𑁋reciprocated love.

But how could you possibly explain this to Mingyu? How could you tell him that you were coughing up petals because of some inexplicable turmoil in your heart that had nothing to do with him?

You can't do this. Not right now. God, you need sleep.

"Gyu?" You call out, your voice echoing within the quietness of your shared apartment.

Stepping into your apartment, you're initially met with silence, but it wasn't until you hear a door shut that awakens your senses, and you see Mingyu stepping out of your shared bedroom. For a few moments, you let your eyes trail over him, seemingly dressed up like he was going to an outing, and you feel your lips twitch unconsciously.

"Babe?" You call out again, a bit louder this time, and it catches Mingyu's attention.

A faint smile crosses his face as he makes his way toward you, and for a second you can feel something catch in your throat once you can feel his warmth touch your skin.

"Hey," he greets you calmly, pushing away a strand of hair behind your ear. "How was work?"

"It was..." Tell him, Your mind urges. Tell him right now. "...fine. Nothing much today."

"That's good," he responds, locking the watch on his wrist in place.

"Are you going somewhere?" You ask him quickly, shifting your eyes up and down and over his form.

Mingyu's expression changes slightly, becoming almost tense, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes before it changes back to that lazy smile he had on before. You swear that if you weren't so hyperfocused with every fibre of your being pulling you back, you wouldn't have noticed.

"Just some dinner with the guys. Haven't seen them in a while," he responds coolly, brushing past you for a moment to grab the keys hanging next to the door. "Do you want me to bring you something back?"

You watch Mingyu's every move, the unease and some discomfort from the disease in your chest growing by the unbearable minute, even with the increasing tension in the room that's absolutely suffocating you at the same time. This isn't the time to let your guard down, but you're torn between the fear of losing him and the need to protect him from this awful reality.

But... he's going out? And he didn't tell you? Nor even bother responding to the text you sent him earlier? He was probably just busy, You think. Like he always is.

"No, it's alright." You take a chance and step up to him, planting a brief kiss to his cheek. You feel a little bit better doing that. "I'll just heat up something from the fridge. Have a good time with your friends, okay? I love you."

Mingyu smiles softly at your gesture, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. And you swear you notice a distant look in his gaze, or maybe you were just imagining things and it's just another symptom of this stupid disease and your fervent overthinking. The dimness of your apartment didn't help either𑁋his eyes just looked drained of any colour. Maybe he was just tired.

"Thanks, Y/N." He offers one last smile, but there's something lacking in his tone that you can't quite place, and it's anything but comforting you at the moment. "Love you too."

Your heart quickens just a bit at that, the corners of your lips edging up just slightly as you watch him. He grabs his jacket and heads for the door, and you're left behind in nothing but the silence of your place.

And all at once, you feel all the discomfort you were trying to hide finally spill out from your lips, coughs leaving your mouth like a downpour, each one a bit more painful than the last. You double over with one of your arms wrapped around you and the other clutching at your chest as if trying to physically grasp the pain and pull it out of you.

"Shit, dammit," You murmur weakly, bringing your hand down from your mouth to see a few petals fluttering to the floor, feeling the tears brimming at the corner of your eyes.

You bring yourself back up, opening up your bag and taking out the medication you picked up from the pharmacy earlier. Trailing down to the bathroom, the medication bottle rattles loudly in your shaky hand as you fumble to open the cap. The pills inside are small and white, and the label on the bottle provides instructions for dosage. With shaking fingers, you fish out one pill and place it on your palm.

Then you take a deep breath, attempting to steady your nerves, and then swallow it down with a gulp of water from the bathroom sink.

You hope that it will provide some relief, even if it's just temporary.

You don't know what time Mingyu comes home that night. You heard him come in, but don't have the energy to properly acknowledge him. So you stay low to your sheets, feeling some residual discomfort crawl back into your throat when you hear him open the bedroom door.

You wish he can hold you𑁋it's all you want right now. His comfort, his large arms wrapping around you like how he used to do so before, how he would kiss the top of your head and your shoulder before holding you close in his embrace, the way it felt so right and safe being in his hold because you know it's enough to make all your worries disappear in an instant.

But he doesn't, only sliding into the empty space next to you, and you're afraid that if he does it just might make you feel even worse. You barely feel his warmth on you. Yet you miss him; you miss everything about him. And you still love him. You always have.

You always will.

...right?

It's not right to tell him right now.

You certainly wouldn't like it if someone was staring at you, but you can't help it, not when Mingyu is the only other thing in the room you could possibly look at.

It's been more than a week since you found out you have Hanahaki. Each day you would wake up in an absolute coughing fit, the petals coming in more frequent amounts than before. The medication has helped to lessen the symptoms, yet the side effects are taking a toll on your body. You're constantly fatigued, and your appetite has declined just slightly. You feel like a prisoner in your own body, all because something beautiful and deadly is growing within you.

Mingyu still doesn't know about it. And deep down, you can't shake the feeling that something is... different.

He used to be so attentive with you. Now, he often seems preoccupied, lost in his own thoughts. He no longer surprises you with sweet gestures or random acts of affection, and the warm, lingering kisses that he would leave to your lips have turned into quick pecks on the cheek, or simply, just nothing at all. You hardly wake up with him right next to you because of his work, and the shared laughter and late night conversations have nearly ceased to exist.

You remember the days when Mingyu used to look at you with such warmth, love, and adoration, but the spark that used to light up his eyes has dimmed. You barely feel it anymore. His replies to your questions asking about his day are kept brief. You would excuse it as him simply being exhausted, but there's a persistent feeling in your chest, and it's not just from your illness.

"Gyu?" You call out for him meekly from the kitchen, watching as he doesn't peel his eyes away from his laptop screen, only lifting a brow up slightly. "Are you busy later?"

"Yeah, I am. I got invited to a company dinner later this evening."

There's a visible downturn to your lips at his words, but he doesn't see it𑁋doesn't bother to see it, anyway.

"Oh." You feel it crawling up your throat again. "Okay. How about tomorrow?"

Mingyu finally looks away from his laptop, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he sighs. "Tomorrow's not good either. I have a meeting with a client, and it might go late."

"Maybe the day after tomorrow?" You suggest, some desperation creeping into your voice.

Mingyu seems to hesitate for a moment, and you hold your breath, hoping for a glimmer of hope, something. But then he shakes his head. "I can't promise anything, Y/N. I'm sorry. I'll be sure to make up to you, okay?"

That's what you always say.

Will you ever make time for me again someday?

You swallow hard, feeling a lump in your throat. The realisation stings, more painful than the illness taking form in your lungs.

"Okay," You mumble, your voice barely above a whisper. "I understand. It's okay. I love you."

A brief, long, pause. "Love you too."

But it's okay, because you still love me.

Then you find yourself swiftly retreating into your bathroom, heart heavy as you grab a tissue and let out a few coughs into the tissue. More petals fall from your mouth, before you crumple the tissue and toss it into the bin next to the sink, then splash some water on your face to hide the tears that threaten to escape.

You don't know what to do.

You can't even bother to see how much pills you have left because you feel like you're taking ten of them every damn day. You have yet to tell a soul, and you know that you should before it's too late, but who you can turn to? You have no one𑁋you can't even figure out yourself why this is even happening to you without feeling like you're going absolutely manic.

It's been hard trying to hide the fallen petals away from Mingyu, or away from anyone, in fact, and you find yourself coughing up more petals even when you're just in the same room as him. You always have to discreetly spit them into a tissue or rush to the bathroom to dispose of them, hoping he doesn't notice.

You hardly even see Mingyu anymore. It's either he's always called into work, has something important to do with the guys, or you feel it snaking up your throat painful enough for you to not make a move. The words stick in your throat, and the fear of losing him freezes you up. You can't help but blame yourself for being so distant around him.

If you've really fallen out of love out of him, if you did supposedly fall for someone else, wouldn't that mean that... you're leading him on? It's a thought at the back of your mind, but the guilt gnaws at you day by day like the ever-growing branches piercing through your lungs.

It's frustrating. All of this frustrating, and it's obviously spilled into your work performance as well. You can hardly perfect orders without making mistakes, and your once bright smile has faded into a forced, weary expression. Your manager and co-workers have given you concerned looks, but you've brushed them off, simply claiming it as stress or lack of sleep.

But it doesn't hit hard until today, because it happens so fast𑁋the metal tray you're holding loudly suddenly crashing down to the floor. One moment you can't breathe, and the next you're letting out hacking coughs into your hands, knees dropped to the floor with the spilled coffee staining your pants and shoes.

The café erupts into chaos as some customers quickly rush to your side, a hand still covering your face. You can hardly respond to anyone from the intense heaviness to your chest and dry pain to your throat.

You feel the petals tickling the skin of your hand, quickly crumpling them up in a fist and stuffing them inside the pocket of your apron.

"Y/N, are you okay?" a familiar voice asks worriedly, Jeonghan's voice, who you served earlier, and you catch a glimpse of him kneeling down beside you.

You can't look at him. Tears well up in your eyes, but you blink them back, doing your best to keep whatever you had left of your composure. You force a weak smile as you bring your hand down to the side.

"Yeah," You croak out, voice raspy and barely audible. "I'm fine, just a little dizzy."

Jeonghan doesn't seem convinced, his eyes trailing over you carefully. You only look past him and keep your gaze low, but it wasn't until you catch sight of a fallen petal resting by your shoes.

And he also sees it as well. Jeonghan's gaze flickers downward, his eyes narrowing as he spots the pale pink petal, and something in his expression changes.

Then he looks back up at you, giving a faint smile, yet serious look.

"Let me take you to the doctor," he urges.

"What? Jeonghan, I can't𑁋"

"I'm taking them to the doctor," he tells one of your co-workers passing by with a broom to clean up the mess you brought to the floor, completely cutting off your words.

You can hardly believe your eyes and ears right now. Your co-worker only nods and quickly takes over your duties while Jeonghan helps you to your feet. Despite your protests, he guides you outside the café, keeping a loose grip on your arm before you get yourself to separate from him in a brief panic.

"Jeonghan, you can't just𑁋just take me out of work like this."

He shoots you a bewildered look. "You're sick, Y/N. It's obvious."

"I know, and I'm fine. It's just stress and bad sleep. Please, just take me back to the café𑁋"

"You have Hanahaki," he says flatly and outright. "I've seen you cough them up. You don't have to hide it from me."

Jeonghan's words hang in the air like an anchor sinking in the ocean. You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest, and your mind races to find some way to deny it, to deflect the truth. But deep down, you know he's right.

Jeonghan, however, doesn't press you for an explanation. Instead, he takes you by the wrist gently and drags you to his car parked nearby.

"Jeonghan𑁋"

"I've had it, Y/N. I've had Hanahaki before," he confesses, a solemn look to his face as his words sink inside you.

You're quiet for a few moments as his words hang suspended in the air, a heavy silence between you two. Hearing that kind of news is from him is oddly... both surprising and comforting, knowing how how rare the illness is. But maybe just maybe, he might understand what you're going through, even if you can't seem to understand yourself.

Once you finally slide into the passenger seat of his car, you manage to get your voice back.

"You've... had it? I mean, just... what happened... how did you get rid of it?"

Once the car engine roars to life, Jeonghan just releases a small chuckle.

"It's the usual story: you fall in love with someone who doesn't love you back. It was terrifying, you know, seeing bits of your feelings turn into something physical like that. I waited too long, so I ended up getting the surgery." There's a shadow of some passing tree branches that cast on his face for a moment. "They never told me the surgery would also mean that my feelings would completely disappear, but it was the only way to save my life."

His face remains calm as he continues to drive, keeping his eyes on the road while your own thoughts were juggling together like a tangled mess of strings.

For a moment, Mingyu's face flashes in your mind, and you wish he were here with you. But you're torn. You don't want to burden him with this.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that," You finally say, keeping your voice low. It was all you can say at the moment.

Once the car stops at a red light, he turns to you with a small, sad smile. "Don't be. It was a long time ago, and it taught me a lot of lessons, you could say. I survived, and you will too."

Another round of silence passes through the car, but this one feels less heavy, more contemplative. You watch the passing scenery outside the window as your thoughts continue to whirl like a storm within your mind. Knowing that Jeonghan survived offers a glimmer of hope, but it also deepens your sense of isolation𑁋that you can't lean on Mingyu for support in the same way.

You don't want to lose your feelings for him. You've already built this start of a future with him, and you can't bear the thought of basically removing him from your life for no solid reason.

"I-I have a boyfriend, you know," You blurt out, interrupting the silence, hearing Jeonghan let out an acknowledging hum for you to go on. "We've been together for the past two years, and whenever the... coughing, petals, all this started happening, it confused me."

"The heart is a complicated place," Jeonghan assures you.

You faintly smile at that. "I still love him, I'm sure of that. I know I do. I've never had feelings for anyone else. I just... I can't figure out why this is happening, why I'm coughing up these stupid petals in the first place, and it's been eating me up inside. It hurts."

Jeonghan listens intently as you pour your heart out, his eyes fixed on the road ahead but his attention fully on you. When you finish speaking, he clears his throat.

"You haven't... told him yet, haven't you?" he asks softly, breaking the silence.

You shake your head. "No, I haven't. I-I've just been... scared that I've been pushing him away, leading him on and I don't know about it. What if... if my heart is just betraying me? And now, with this... I don't know what to do."

Jeonghan's lips purse together thoughtfully.

"I think... If you know you love someone, you do," he says. "But... what makes you certain that he loves you back in the same way?"

Jeonghan's question hits you like a ton of bricks. It's a question you've been dying to avoid for this entire time, a fear that's been lurking in the shadows of your heart and the deepest corners of your mind.

What if... Mingyu didn't love you back?

The thought startles a cough out of you and you hastily bring your hand to your mouth, suppressing it as much as you can, the fragile petals fluttering out and settling on your lap. Squinting your eyes just slightly, you notice how they appear more redder than the usual pink you were used to seeing. You clench your hand around them, knuckles white from the tension, and swallow hard. Jeonghan shoots a quick glance of worry in your direction.

"I... I don't know," You utter out shakily. And what if I don't want to know?

The rest of the car ride is relatively quiet with the occasional taps of Jeonghan's fingers on the steering wheel, but not uncomfortably so. You can sense the concern radiating off Jeonghan, but he doesn't push you to talk further.

"You need to talk to him, Y/N," is all he says after turning into the parking lot of the doctor's office.

Once you get out of his car, you turn back to Jeonghan and give him a light wave.

I know, You tell yourself in your head. I know I do.

You stare blankly at the dark red petal in your hand, its edges slightly crumpled from where it had been caught between your trembling fingers. You can hear the faint ticking of the clock on the wall itching at your skin, a constant reminder that time is passing, and you're running out of it.

Balling the petal in your hand, you stand up from where you sat on the bed and march out the bedroom. For a second, you felt like you weren't in control of your legs, yet you know you have to take advantage of the chance to muster up the courage to finally tell Mingyu everything.

Not just about the Hanahaki, but about... everything that has been suffocating you inside. It's all you've been thinking about for the past few weeks. When you step into the living room, you spot him sitting at your small dining set, focused on his work as ever with the laptop screen in front of him casting a glow to his face. He doesn't even look up when you announce your presence near him, and your heart clenches at that.

Taking a deep breath, you speak up, "Mingyu, we need to talk."

Mingyu doesn't look up, his focus still on his work, brows furrowing together. "Can it wait, Y/N? I'm in the middle of something important."

You hesitate for a moment, feeling something inside you wince at his words. "No, it can't wait. It's about us."

"Y/N, it's one in the morning right now𑁋"

"Do you even still love me anymore?" The question leaves your mouth all at once, and you swear it even freezes this exact moment that you are in.

The room falls into a suffocating silence. Mingyu finally tears his gaze away from the laptop, his eyes meeting yours. In that moment, you see a complex mix of emotions in his eyes: surprise, guilt, and something else you can't quite place.

"I..." he starts, voice shaky. "Y/N, you can't just𑁋"

"Just answer the fucking question, Kim Mingyu." You clench the petal in your hand, feeling its dry, sharp edges dig into your skin. Then you realise the harshness to your words, softening your eyes and lowering your voice. "Please."

The room seems to close in around you as you wait for Mingyu's response. His hesitation hangs in the air, and you see the way his shoulders slump and the way his face contorts as he struggles to find the right words to say to just a simple question.

"I... I don't know, Y/N."

His words stab your heart. It's getting hard to breathe, but you can't let yourself cough now. Not in this moment. The petal in your hand crumples into dust as you clench it tighter.

"What the hell do you mean, you don't know?" Your voice trembles as you ask, searching his eyes for any sign of reassurance. "You either love me or you don't, just tell me, for God's sake."

Your frustration is evident, tone catching him off-guard. Mingyu's gaze drops to the table, and he lets out a heavy sigh.

"...I'm sorry, Y/N. I-I'm so so sorry."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you can feel the tears welling up in your eyes. This is what you've been afraid of, what you've been trying to avoid. But now that it's out in the open, it feels like a heavy weight has been lifted, even if it's crushing you at the same time.

And then, you feel it𑁋a sharp pain to your lungs that makes you gasp as if you've been stabbed by a searing blade. The room spins as you struggle to catch your breath, your hands trembling as you clutch your chest, letting out harrowing coughs after coughs. Mingyu jumps up from his seat, immediately racing to your side.

"Y/N?! Shit, Y/N, you're bleeding𑁋"

You can't respond, the pain in your chest and the taste of blood in your mouth overwhelming your senses. You hold onto him for support as another bout of coughing consumes you. This isn't how you wanted to reveal your condition to him, but there's no hiding it now.

You feel the way Mingyu scoops you into his arms, the blood from your mouth and the petals staining his shirt as he reaches for his phone to dial emergency services. His voice is helpless and frantic, and within seconds, minutes, maybe even whole hour, you hear the distant wail of approaching sirens.

The soft hum of machines echo through the air as you stir awake, eyes fluttering open and the blinding white lights above blurring your vision. The first sensation that you register was the overwhelming scent of disinfectant filling your nose, sharp and pungent. Then came the dull ache in your chest that makes your breath quietly hitch.

Blinking your eyes open, you realise you're in a hospital room, the pale morning light filtering through the curtains. The sight of white walls and strange medical equipment, an IV line running into your arm, makes your heart race anxiously. You try to take a deep breath, but then you feel that ache in your chest again, and it makes you groan.

Just then at that moment, a young looking nurse enters the room, her eyes widening when she catches sight of you awake and distressed.

"Easy now," she says, rushing to your side and gently pushing you back down onto the bed. "You've just had surgery. You need to rest."

Surgery...?

You could only nod weakly, your throat too dry to speak. You watch as the nurse adjusts some of the monitors and checks your vitals, making sure everything was in place.

"Everything went well during the surgery," she reassures you. "But the hanahaki flowers had grown more aggressively than expected and showed signs of piercing through your lungs. It's a good thing we performed the emergency surgery when we did."

Hanahaki... The word lingers in your mind as you try to make sense of it all. Memories began to resurface: the petals mixing with your blood, the coughing fits, and... Mingyu. It all seemed so distant now, as if it had happened to someone else.

"You were lucky that we caught in time before the growth would have overtaken your lungs," the nurse says sympathetically while writing down your vitals on a chart.

Lucky. How ironic. You were alive, yes, but at what cost? You couldn't help but wonder if the surgery had taken more from you than just the hanahaki flowers.

And then it hits you.

There's no trace of the pain that had clawed at your chest for so long, except for the skin atop your heart where you can feel the incisions. The hanahaki flowers are gone, removed during the emergency surgery, but there's something else missing too𑁋your feelings, your love, for Mingyu.

You feel nothing. No pining, no longing, no aching heart. It's as if a weight has been lifted from your chest, but the emptiness is... disquieting, unnerving, just a void, a hole in place of where your warmth resided in.

You're no longer in love with Mingyu, just like he is for you.

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @ylliris-hanniehae @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair

#kflixnet #k-labels #caratsland #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #mingyu imagines #mingyu angst #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu imagines #kim mingyu angst #kim mingyu x reader #svt imagines #svt angst #svt x reader

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myseungsunglove · 9 months

Text

The Master of Flirting | Bc

Pairing: Chan x Reader

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, language

Word Count: 2k

Summary: The reader and Chan forge an unlikely connection and bond and venture into territory that is unfamiliar to both.

A/N: This thought came to me while Chan was sending messages on bubble Sunday. I’m completely delulu. You can join me or not. Whatever floats your boat. I’m not picky. Inspiration hit, and I had to pump this out. Maybe there will be more. We’ll see.

◠ ◡ ◠᭚ιαᵕ̈

Feedback Welcome

「© August 13, 2023 by mysweethannie」

Sunday Bubble Messages from Chan.

Channie: I heard that supposedly I’m the master of flirting.

Y/n: oh? Is that so?

You knew how Bubble worked, but it was always fun when Chan got into these playful moods on Bubble. You couldn’t help but feel like you were having a conversation with him.

The notification buzzes on your phone. You chuckle and open the app.

Channie: makes no sense

Y/n: Very few things in this life make sense, if we’re being honest.

Channie: I don’t even know what flirting is.

Y/n: me either, frankly. Can I get a dictionary definition please? It may help clear things up for both of us.

The messages continue in the app, and you can’t help but chuckle at how adorable he is. He proceeds to tell STAYS they’re pretty and that that isn’t flirting, it’s just facts. He even goes as far as to remind everyone they’re perfect, and bless him he knows the right things to say to make anyone giggle like they are something special. Eventually the messages die down, and it makes you wish there would be a Chan’s room to look forward to. Damn do you miss those.

You flip over to instagram and scroll through your fyp and some of the messages from your roommate spamming you with videos they found funny. Right before you’re about to return to your scrolling, you notice you have a request to receive a message. Your account is private, so it’s rare that anyone ever requests to message you. Everyone you want to have access to you there already has it. Curiosity wins over though and you click on the small request box.

You stop dead in your tracks.

gnabnahc wants to send you a message.

This has to be a joke. Chan only started his account a couple weeks ago. It’s sad that he must’ve been hacked already. How does that even happen, you wonder to yourself.

You can’t help but click on the message though, curiosity eating away at you.

Bang Chan: flirting - as defined by the dictionary - to behave as though attracted to or trying to attract someone, but for amusement rather than with serious intentions.

What the hell? You think to yourself. Wait. How would a hacker know what you said in Bubble. Better yet, how the hell would someone find your insta from Bubble?

Then you remember you use the same username and picture in both Bubble and Instagram. What. An. Idiot. You can’t help but think.

You click accept on the message and open up the chat. There is more there and your mouth continues to gape as you read on.

Bang Chan: Damn. That definition is kind of harsh. I’m not sure that clears anything up for me. Hahahahaha

Okay. That’s definitely Chan. There is no way this is a coincidence. You think carefully before doing anything. You click on the profile and it takes you to Chan’s official instagram. These messages are coming from the account that he just started weeks ago. Your mind is racing at the thought.

You hop back over to messages quickly.

Y/username: to be fair, I think it accurately describes me. 😂😂

You see his username pop up immediately as he starts to type.

Bang Chan: You mean you actually flirt for amusement with no serious intentions? I’m wounded. *clutches chest dramatically*

Y/username: Christopher. You can’t tell me you don’t do the same damn thing. Be honest. You’re delulu but not seriously that bad, right?

Bang Chan: delulu? Whatever do you mean?

Bang Chan: Okay, fine. I’m caught. But I do mean the things I say when I tell STAYS how proud I am of them. And how beautiful they are. And that I love them.

Bang Chan: I guess flirting makes it feel a little less lonely sometimes.

You’re surprised at the honesty coming from him. And you still can’t believe this conversation is happening.

Y/username: In a crowded room, surrounded by people but still feel alone.

Bang Chan: exactly.

Y/username: why me?

Bang Chan: what do you mean?

Y/username: like how did you find me? Are you really Bang Chan? I have so many questions. *laughs nervously*

Bang Chan: hmmm

Bang Chan: first, your username and picture are the same in Bubble and Insta. I kind of shot in the dark on that one. But even your quotes were the same, so I took a chance. I always see your replies in Bubble. You’re funny. And sometimes I feel like I’m just talking to you. And I wanted to actually talk to you for once.

Y/username: Wow. I—

Bang Chan: second, I’ll prove this isn’t a joke.

Immediately you get a bubble notification. Chan has sent another message. You open the app and it’s a selfie and a picture of him in the studio, clearly it’s current. He is sitting in the chair you’ve seen hundreds of times in the room that has become so familiar to STAYS.

Shortly after that, your notification dings in instagram.

Bang Chan: *video sent*

You watch the video.

“Hi!” Chan giggles on the screen. He is wearing the same clothes as the selfie he sent on Bubble and is sitting in the studio.

“This is the craziest thing I’ve done in a long time,” he laughs nervously. “Maybe ever,” he amends, smiling so bright his eyes disappear into tiny slits. “I hope this is proof enough, yeah? Cause I really like talking to you and uh,” he laughs again, looking away from the camera for a moment. “And I’d really like to keep talking if that’s okay, yeah?”

The video ends there. You sit staring at your phone, absolutely dumbfounded. You can’t believe this is happening to you.

Y/username: okay. You’re really you.

Bang Chan: I’m really me

Y/username: hullo *runs and hides in the corner*

Bang Chan: okay, you’re too cute. Don’t get shy now. You’re always the funniest responses in Bubble. This isn’t different.

Y/username: okay, but to be fair I never in a million years thought you’d ever actually SEE my responses there. Even if it did feel like sometimes you were responding to me, I wasn’t about to think that was true or remotely possible.

Bang Chan: well, think again? I guess? Because I definitely was gearing my conversations towards you on multiple occasions over the last few months when I sent messages. And honestly, I needed to actually talk to you because, well, I wanted you to know we were talking.No real way to do that on Bubble without it being weird and the company jumping on my ass, so now you know.

Y/username: now I know.

Bang Chan: so tell me about yourself. I know you’re the same age as me. I recall you live in the states. You’ve said that on Bubble a time or two. *smiles* You love rainy days. You melt when I sing, especially if I’m singing with Han or Seungmin. You’re a sucker for a good rap line.

Y/username: you remember all that? Hell you saw all that?

Bang Chan: told you I was paying attention. I’m nothing if not honest.

Y/username: duly noted. Honesty is the best policy after all.

Bang Chan: let’s see. You’re really beautiful. You said once you loved singing which I’m dying to hear.

Y/username: correction: not beautiful. Just kind of exist. Also, trust me, I’m nothing compared to you guys in the vocal department. You don’t want to hear me. nope. no way.

Bang Chan: don’t say that about yourself. Please. And can I please hear your voice? You’ve heard mine. It’s only fair.

Y/username: *glares*

Bang Chan: *sends picture*

He is pouting at the camera, his eyes big and pleading and you can’t help but smile.

Y/username: you’re kind of a little shit, you know that?

Bang Chan: me? Never? *sends picture*

This one he is smiling big, his eye disappearing he is smiling so big.

Y/username: god. And you’re cute. Fine.

Bang Chan: fine? do i win?

Y/username: *sends video* You send a video of you singing a verse from “Iris” a Goo Goo Dolls song.

“And I’d give up forever to touch you.

Cause I know that you feel me somehow.

You’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be.

And I don’t wanna go home right now.

And all I can taste is this moment.

And all I can breathe is your life.

When sooner or later it’s over.

I just don’t wanna miss you tonight.”

Bang Chan: oh my god. That was fucking incredible.

*sends video*

“Seriously, y/n. Your voice is incredible.” He smiles brightly. “I really am blown away. Damn. I—…” he laughs, covering his face, his ears turning red. “I know this seems crazy, but I really wanna meet you, yeah? I just, feel this connection. I know this is crazy. God, what am I doing? Any chance you can come to KCon? I’d get you VIP tickets, hell, I’d pay for your flight at this point. And you could stay where we’re staying. Meet the boys, god, Chan, what are you doin?”

The video ends there and you’re stunned. You can’t believe what just happened. Your mind is racing.

*audio call from instagram Bang Chan is calling*

You don’t know what you’re thinking when you hit accept. The little phone turns green.

“Hullo? Y/n? Ya there?” Chan’s voice comes through your speaker and shakes you from your trance.

“Yeah, I’m here. Hi,” you chuckle, your voice squeaking a bit.

“Hi,” he responds and you can hear the smile in his voice. “I meant everything I said in that video. I know it’s crazy and I— well I had to say it. Take a chance.”

“You meant it?” you asked, still unsure and in disbelief at the course of events over the last hour.

“Every word,” he assures you. “In fact, I maybe already have the ticket and am currently looking at flights,” he admits.

“Holy shit, Chan. Seriously?”

“I know,” he laughs nervously. “I don’t know what’s getting into me.”

“I like it, whatever it is,” you chuckle. “God, I just don’t want to massively disappoint you because that feels like that will happen. Since we’re being honest.” You pause. “We’re still doing that, right? The honesty thing?” you joke.

“We are. And you won’t be a disappointment. I don’t do things like this, so trust me when I say, I want to meet you. I need to,” he sounds so vulnerable admitting that. “And I hope you want to come out to LA.”

“I really do,” you admit. “So am I really doing this?”

“Just say the word, and I’ll get everything arranged. And I mean everything, so don’t argue,” he says firmly.

You can’t help but laugh. “Okay.”

“Okay?” he asks tentatively.

“Do your thang, Bang Chan,” you laugh. You don’t know what’s gotten into you either, but you’re gonna go with the punches at this point. This is absolutely the craziest and possibly the most reckless thing you’ve ever done, but hell it feels good.

“Wow! Okay,” he laughs. “Okay! I need to get off here and arrange everything. I’ll call you back with all the details, yeah? I need your address for your airport pickup and to book the flight. I can take care of everything else. My manager will arrange for the hotel. God this is really happening.”

“It would seem so,” you laugh.

“This is crazy,” you say at the same time. Then you both laugh.

“Okay, I gotta go finalize this because I’m not missing my chance to meet you. I’ll call back. God, I’m so excited. Talk soon, yeah?”

“Yeah, talk soon. Bye Chan.”

“Byeom darling.”

He ends the call and you're stunned in silence once more. He called you darling. What on earth was happening!? The reality of the situation hits you head on. You’re going to LA. To see Bang fucking Chan. And to meet all of the Stray Kids. Holy shit. How was this your life? You jump up and immediately start making arrangements. You’re not sure how long you’ll be gone, but everything else can wait because opportunities like this never just happen and you’re not gonna let this one pass you by.

Not on your life. KCon or bust! Look out LA because y/n is coming to town!

| Pt. 2 - The Mystery of You >

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #bang Chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan fanfiction #bang chan fanfic #bang chan x y/n #bang chan imagines #bang chan fluff

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here2bbtstrash · 2 years

Note

Yoongi fingering u till u squirrttttttt

my god, anon. i don't know what to tell you. this was supposed to be a short lil drabble like the rest and then..... that that live yoongi happened and i. uh. my brain short-circuited. the thirst for this man overtook me. i think i just wrote the nastiest porn of my whole career lmao.

so anyway uhhhhhh - HOPE YOU ENJOY 🤪

pairing: yoongi x reader wordcount: 4.8k DO NOT FUCKING @ ME contains: my first ever OT7 scene :') ft. an incredibly dumb conversation abt squirting, best friend's friend to lovers (? idk what else to call it lmao), squirt god min yoongi (yes that's a warning), yoongi is in his that that live outfit bc i'm a menace to society, a lil bit of edging, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, and obv. a whoooole lot of tongue and finger fucking and SQUIRTING 💦💦💦

“Remember that girl I took home last night?”

You just know Taehyung is about to say something gross by the look in his eye, the way he bites down on the edge of his red solo cup as he glances around the circle of his friends.

Well, his friends and you. There’s a clear distinction.

A few heads nod, shoulders shrug. You brace yourself.

“Fucking geyser, I’m serious. Soaked my whole bed. I had to sleep on the couch.”

Hoseok’s loud cackle rings in your ears, and he has to cling to Jimin’s arm to stay upright, clearly already well past tipsy. “I was wondering why you were washing your sheets! That’s typically a once-a-year activity for you, Taehyung-ah!”

You make sure Seokjin doesn’t miss the death glare that you aim in his direction. He dragged you to this stupid party, said otherwise he’d spend the whole time in the corner reading webtoons on his phone. And now you have to tolerate the absolute fuckery of his nasty friends.

He grimaces a silent apology back at you, bringing one hand up to smack Tae firmly on the back of the head.

“She peed?!” Jungkook’s eyes are wide as he pauses with his own drink halfway to his mouth.

Everyone reacts at once: Hoseok quite literally doubles over, Taehyung fights to keep the corners of his mouth from turning up, Jimin gives an aggressive side-eye, Seokjin covers his face with his hand. Even Yoongi reacts, smiling a rare wide smile, shoulders shaking a little with laughter.

Namjoon takes the educational opportunity, clapping a hand firmly to Jungkook’s back. “Do you know what squirting is?”

You watch as Jungkook’s eyes flit across the circle. “I thought it was pee,” he admits, voice a little quieter this time.

“You are so fucking dumb,” Jimin says, shooting Jungkook a look of utter disgust. Hoseok is literally on the floor at this point.

“It’s, uh…” Namjoon makes a face as he searches for the right words. “Female ejaculate.”

“Girl cum?” Jungkook translates.

“I don’t care if it was piss, it was fucking hot,” Taehyung says as he downs the last of his drink.

“You’re disgusting,” Seokjin says with a shake of his head as he offers a hand to help Hoseok to his feet. Taehyung sticks his tongue out, waggling it side-to-side, which just sends Hoseok right back down again with another peal of laughter.

“I’ve never hooked up with a squirter,” Jungkook says softly, like he’s a little disappointed.

You open your mouth to speak up, as the only person with a vagina currently partaking in the conversation, but Yoongi beats you to it. “You just don’t know what you’re doing.”

His words surprise you for a second, but you shake it off and continue. “Not every girl can squirt. Most can’t.” You shrug slightly.

“That’s not true,” Yoongi counters, and you whip your head to look at him.

“What the fuck do you know, Min Yoongi?” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them. You don’t know why Seokjin thought it was a good idea to bring you around his friends, when he knows you have no filter.

Yoongi raises a hand, as if to signal that he’s not trying to fight. “I’m just saying. Once you learn what to do, anyone can get there. Just takes some patience. And a lot of foreplay. But I’ve never not made a girl squirt.”

You roll your eyes. “Well, I’ve never squirted.”

It takes a moment for you to realize what you’ve set yourself up for, and you have to fight the urge to clap a hand over your mouth. The same response ripples through the group a millisecond later: eyes widening, lips pursing in silent expressions of shock.

“I think I need another drink– should we all go?” Namjoon asks, extremely unsubtle.

Before you can scramble to even think, let alone say anything, he’s got his arms around Taehyung and Jungkook’s shoulders and is shoving them towards the kitchen. Seokjin and Jimin work together to peel Hoseok off the floor and quickly follow.

Which just leaves you, Yoongi, and a very interesting proposition.

“So, are we doing this?” You ask bluntly.

Yoongi shrugs. “Only if you want to.”

You shoot him a look. “Don’t act all shy now, squirt god!” He exhales a soft laugh, and you gesture to the stairs. “Lead the way.”

It’s only once you’re perched on the end of his bed, eyes roving over the minimal, clean space of his room, that your nerves start to betray you. Yoongi sets his drink on the dresser next to yours, then drops down beside you.

You stare at the floor, unsure of what to do next, vaguely aware of his bent knees poking out of the large holes in his light wash jeans. He gently rests a hand on your thigh, and you’re wound up enough that you flinch at his touch.

“We seriously don’t have to do this.”

“Why do you keep saying that?” You ask, feigning ignorance and trying to keep your voice from shaking.

“Might have something to do with the fact that this is the first one-on-one conversation we’ve ever had.”

You meet his gaze, a little surprised by the open expression on his face. You’ve always seen him as so reserved. “You don’t exactly say much.”

Yoongi shrugs like he can’t disagree. “Hard to get a word in with those guys sometimes.” He pauses, like he’s debating whether or not to keep talking, then continues. “And I figured Jin was playing some long game with you, so I was trying to be respectful.”

You make a face of sheer disbelief. “What?! Seokjin is my best friend, Yoongi. Period, end of sentence. It’s not like that and never has been.”

“Huh.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and you can’t read the expression on his face. You turn towards Yoongi, pulling one bent leg up on the bed to fully face him. “What was that noise supposed to mean?”

“That’s just… interesting.”

“Stop being cagey.” You drive a finger into his side and he squirms a little. “What’s interesting?” Does he know something about Seokjin that he’s keeping from you?

“Well, I was clearly operating under false pretenses. Otherwise I probably would’ve acted differently around you.”

“Differently how?” You quickly chase his vague statement, pushing him, trying to understand. Yoongi doesn’t respond immediately, but the bed shifts as he mirrors your position, turning to open himself up to you. “What would you have done, Yoongi?” You try again, getting frustrated.

A shiver runs down your spine as he brings a hand to gently cup your jaw, his touch feather-light. His thumb strokes over your cheek and you swear your heartbeat falters.

“This,” he says simply, his voice deeper than you’ve ever heard it. And then he brings his mouth to yours.

His lips are soft and warm as they brush over yours, if a little tentative, like he expects you to pull away at any second. But the heat of his mouth ignites a spark in your belly that you’re suddenly desperate for more of.

You move your mouth against his, chasing the feeling as you bring a hand to the nape of his neck. Your fingers wind through his dark hair– you’d noticed when he walked in the door tonight how long it’s gotten, had thought absent-mindedly to yourself that it looked good on him.

Your head spins. Min fucking Yoongi. How is this real life? You’d honestly never thought twice about him– just lumped him in with the rest of Seokjin’s dumb friends. It’s starting to occur to you that maybe overlooking him was a mistake.

That suspicion is confirmed when he slips his tongue into your mouth to slide expertly over yours.

You run your other hand up his chest, fingers tracing the buttons of his overshirt, then the smooth cotton of the tank top beneath it. The wet heat of his mouth is already making you dizzy.

Yoongi brings a hand to the small of your back, moving the other from your jaw down to meet it. He shifts a little, but he doesn’t break away from you, and you gasp softly into his mouth when both hands drop to your ass to pull you into his lap in one smooth motion. Your knees press into the mattress on either side of him, your hips settling on top of his.

He kisses you for a second longer, tongue stroking over yours deftly enough that you can barely suppress the whimper it works out of you. Then he finally pulls back to glance up at you. His lips are full and pink, his chest heaving with shallow breaths. The unbuttoned linen shirt he’s wearing has slipped off one shoulder, exposing smooth skin and solid muscle.

There’s a look on his face, mouth dropped open slightly, like he can’t quite believe this is really happening. You can relate.

“Still want to do this?” Yoongi asks quietly, voice still low and a little hoarse now. His hands are pressed to your hips, thumbs tracing light patterns over the fabric of your jeans.

You can hardly find your voice to speak– when the word comes out, it’s a whisper, and one you can’t say emphatically enough. “Yes.”

He tilts his head up towards you and your lips find his, needier this time. There’s an undeniable ache in your core now, desire spreading through you like a licking flame. Yoongi’s hands start to move over your back, dragging the hem of your shirt up, and you break away from him only for as long as it takes to peel it over your head. You press your mouth to his again before the fabric has even hit his bedroom floor.

Yoongi’s kisses are sloppier now, tongue tasting yours with added urgency, momentarily rendering you breathless. You follow his lead, hands grasping to push his overshirt down his arms, then reaching to tug at his tank top. It’s like you can’t move fast enough– you’re shaking a little as he leans back, raising his arms to allow you to pull it off. You feel the heat of his touch at the center of your spine, and then he’s slipping your bra off, too, everything tossed off the edge of the bed to join your shirt.

The brush of his hands over your bare skin, running up the curve from your hip to your waist, is enough to make you shiver under his palms, nipples tightening.

Yoongi licks his lips as his eyes roam appreciatively over your body, but then his gaze meets yours again, and in a way this moment of anticipation feels more intimate than anything you’ve done tonight. You in his lap, both of you naked from the waist up, faces flushed with heat and want. Hovering at the precipice of something you don’t have words for.

“Lay down for me,” he says quietly. The darkness of his voice thrums through you.

You do as he says, thighs shaking slightly as you slide off of him and move to settle against the soft pillows with a slow inhale. You can only watch, dazed, as Yoongi gets to his feet– you swallow hard at the sound of his belt hitting the floor. He slips out of his ripped jeans, down to just his black boxer-briefs.

When he crawls up the bed to join you, you’re transfixed by the way his silver necklaces dangle, catching the dim lamplight. He kneels to one side of you, hands coming to unbutton the fly of your jeans and push them down your thighs. You do the rest, peeling them all the way off and tossing them to the floor.

His hands slide up your thighs, one encouraging your legs apart while the other rubs gently back and forth, his touch sending sparks through you. You can feel your heartbeat at the center of your ribcage, swear you can see it in the rise and fall of your chest as you glance up at him looking down over you.

“Stop me if you’re going to come, okay?”

You nod your understanding, but he must be able to read the confusion painted on your face. He shifts up the bed to lean over you, his breath ghosting along the shell of your ear.

“Save it for me, and I’ll show you what that pussy can do.”

Yoongi chases the words with a languid stripe licked up your neck, and it’s enough to make your brain short-circuit.

Never in your life has a man preemptively warned you to not come. Most of them have struggled to make it happen at all. You can’t help but wonder if you really did underestimate Yoongi’s abilities.

It certainly feels that way as he continues to press hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck and chest, bringing one hand to gently cup and massage your breast as he goes, the pad of his thumb circling your nipple. His mouth catches up to his touch, and he sucks in the bud of that breast while his hand moves to work the other just the same.

“Fuck, Yoongi,” you breathe.

Everything he’s doing is intoxicating, enough that there’s now a steady pulse emanating from between your legs. When he shifts to pull your other breast into his mouth, tongue swirling over your nipple in a way that makes you whimper and arch into him, he drops one of his legs down onto the mattress between your thighs.

You take advantage of the opportunity presented to you, thighs squeezing and hips canting up to drag your core over the smooth muscle of his leg, desperate for contact, for friction. Yoongi releases your nipple from between his teeth, giving a self-satisfied hum that you can feel buzz in his throat against your skin.

“Getting worked up already?” His words are punctuated by the kisses he trails down the valley between your breasts. “Keep going,” he urges.

Your mind is swimming with arousal, and each pass of your cunt over his thigh is enough to further dampen your now soaked-through panties. You’re not sure how much more worked up you could get. But Yoongi is clearly determined to find your limit.

When he shifts to move his mouth further down your body, he quickly replaces the thigh you’ve been grinding into with his hand, cupping over your center, his whole palm rubbing circles into the lace of your panties that make your clit twitch. You writhe under him as he sucks a mark into your hip bone, pulling sounds out of you: a mixture of heady groans at the welcome friction and soft whines at how indirect the pressure still is. You need more, more– you lift up to press your hips into his touch in search of relief.

All too quickly, the motion of his palm stills, and you can’t help the strangled noise that escapes you. Both of his hands slip down your body, coming to rest at your hips, and his thumbs hook under your panties to push them down your thighs.

You fumble for a second, lifting your knees up to your chest to finish pulling your underwear over your ankles. As you fling your last article of clothing off the side of the bed and attempt to lower your legs down, you’re surprised to feel Yoongi’s hands pressing firmly into the backs of your thighs.

“Stay just like that,” he instructs, and you listen, crossing your ankles and following the encouragement of his touch to keep your legs pulled up, your bare cunt fully exposed for him.

You don’t know what to expect next– his fingers, maybe his tongue– but it’s certainly not what he does, which is look up at you and calmly ask, “How do you feel?”

Your answer is not a word in any language; it’s somewhere between a moan and a noise of pure frustration. Folded in half for him like this, you swear you can feel arousal starting to drip out of your pussy.

“That’s pretty good,” Yoongi remarks, lazily bringing one hand up to encircle your ankle in his grasp, enjoying his free rein over your body as it’s offered up to him. Even that gentle touch is enough to make your cunt clench around nothing. “But I think we can do better.”

You nod your head in a silent request as you watch him lean down onto the mattress, lowering himself to be eye-level with your pussy. “Haven’t even tasted you yet.”

“Please, Yoongi,” you gasp, and you can feel his breath over you, the heat and anticipation sending a bolt of electricity straight to your core.

“Just remember to stop me,” he warns, and then he leans forward to lick a thick stripe up your cunt. You cry out at the sensation, the wetness and warmth of his tongue sliding through your folds, and your head kicks back against the pillow as you feel his fingers gently part your inner lips for better access.

He pulls away for a fraction of a second, just long enough to hum softly and murmur “so fucking wet” under his breath. Your hands grip the bedsheets as he dives back in with even more enthusiasm, spreading you wide open.

The heat he’s been building up in you all night is coiling devastatingly tight in your core now– your head is spinning, your nipples so stiff that they ache. The thought of asking him to stop, and probably soon, from how deliberately he’s eating you out, feels nearly impossible.

Yoongi seems to settle in as he falls into a pattern with his movements: lazily circling your entrance a few times before delving in and fucking you all-too-briefly with his talented tongue, enough to make your walls squeeze greedily around him. After a few more thrusts he withdraws, using a long lick to drag your collected wetness up, his tongue pressing flat and heavy. When he reaches your clit he flicks gently over the sensitive bud a few times, eventually pulling it into his mouth to suck, eliciting a loud moan from you.

“Oh fuck, fuck, Yoongi–”

You swear you can feel him smiling smugly as he returns to your entrance to start again, somehow both sloppy and precise, humming a little in a way that sends a devastating wave of vibrations through you.

He keeps everything so slow it’s nearly torture, building up the tightening pressure inside of you a little more with each pass, but purposefully never staying so consistent that you tip over the edge– just leaving you wet enough to drown in. You can’t stop the moans and whimpers he pulls out of you now, the way your hips jerk under his mouth.

He’s fucking good at this.

You lose track of how many times he goes through the process, until you’re wound so tight with arousal you think you might burst.

“Yoongi,” you whine, and he must be able to hear the change in your voice.

Yoongi’s mouth freezes, lips still wrapped around your clit. His hands move to your thighs, gently ushering your feet to return to the mattress on either side of his head, your legs still spread wide, so he can see you. He hums around you as if to ask a question, and your hips shudder beneath him.

That must be a good enough answer, because he pulls off of you, reaching up to wipe an errant strand of slick from his bottom lip. Everything about him in this moment makes your pussy throb: his mouth, nose and chin are all coated in your juices, the results of his efforts, and his pupils are blown black with lust and something that looks like determination.

You have no idea how long it’s been since you disappeared up the stairs together. Hours, maybe days. Yoongi certainly looks like he could do this forever.

“Gonna come?” He murmurs, nuzzling his cheek absent-mindedly against your inner thigh as he holds your gaze.

“I–” He hasn’t let you get that close yet, but you feel so fucking full, like your core isn’t capable of holding onto any more pleasure. “I can’t take any more,” you say, and the desperation in your own voice sounds so ridiculous to you that you let out a crazed laugh. “I’m gonna fucking die, Yoongi.”

“Yeah?” There’s a glint in his eyes, like he’s not going to let you tap out that easily. “What if I do this?”

His tongue returns to your clit, but this time he’s no longer teasing. His rhythm is consistent now, lapping against you in short, deliberate strokes, over and over. You can feel every muscle in your core tensing as he works you relentlessly towards your peak.

When your back starts to arch, it takes everything in you to say his name. “Yoongi,” you gasp, and he knows you’re about to come, must be able to tell by the way you start to shake underneath him. You cry out a sound that’s nearly a sob when he pulls back quickly and everything comes to a screeching halt. It’s like you can feel your orgasm being ripped out from under you.

“Oh my god,” you whine, hips grinding down into the mattress, desperate for any possible friction. “I’m so fucking close, Yoongi, please.”

His eyes linger hungrily over your pussy, the mess he’s made of you. Keeping his touch light, he gently traces a finger over your inner lips, clearly admiring the way it makes you tremble.

“Seems like you’re ready.”

You’d almost forgotten the point of all of this, the initial conversation in the kitchen, the fact that the man now lazily running a finger through your dripping folds is supposedly capable of making anyone squirt and that you are putting him to the test. You already believe it wholeheartedly– you’re just not sure you’ll survive long enough to see it.

Yoongi sits up, shifting to kneel to one side of you, hands encouraging your legs to spread even wider. When he starts to speak, you try as best you can to focus on his words, dizzy as you are with overwhelming need.

“I’m gonna press pretty hard, okay? When it feels like you have to pee, push it out instead of trying to hold it in. I promise, it’s not pee.” He pauses, laughing softly to himself, then adds, “And if it is, honestly, I don’t give a fuck.”

You look up at him, your mind reeling, and you’re not expecting it when he ducks down to kiss you. You taste yourself on his lips and tongue.

“Don’t be nervous,” he murmurs as he pulls back. “Just relax and let go. I’ll go until you tell me to stop.” Your heart flutters a little behind your ribs at the softness in his voice, and you nod.

Your breath hitches as you feel Yoongi’s hand return to your center, two fingers moving down slowly to tease at your entrance. The fire in your belly ignites at the soft squelching noise he makes as he circles, just shy of entering you, dampening his digits with your juices.

Relief washes through you as he presses in, and you tip your head back on the pillow with a soft groan. Your lashes flutter as you fight to keep your eyes open, heavy-lidded with lust, to watch him at work.

“Shit,” you hiss as he curls his fingers up to press against your front wall, finding your g-spot like someone who knows exactly what he’s doing. He pushes harder, falling into a steady rhythm, and the pleasure feels like a heavy weight in your gut now. A tingling sensation starts to hum through your limbs.

You’re panting, nearly gasping for breath as he rubs against you, each thrust of his hand accompanied by the slick sounds of your cunt. Your abdomen tightens as the pressure in your core builds, and you really do feel like you’re going to burst, overflow completely.

“Yoongi,” you breathe, “I–I’m– I’m gonna–”

“Push,” he reminds you, and you do just that as the wave crashes over you. A release like nothing you’ve ever felt before rips through you, and you’re so overcome by the feeling that it takes you a few seconds to remember to look down. Shakily tilting your head up, you see clear fluid gushing out of you each time Yoongi pulls back.

When he sees you’re watching, he withdraws entirely, bringing four soaked fingers to your clit to rub fast circles that make you moan loudly as your muscles spasm again. Without his hand there to block it, you watch as an unbroken stream of fluid rushes out of you, spraying over the sheets of his bed.

“Oh my god,” you whine, and you have to tilt your head back and squeeze your eyes shut for a moment just to focus on the feeling alone. “Oh my god.”

Yoongi makes a little noise of appreciation, fingers returning to your entrance, the wet sounds of your cunt now obscene as he pushes in again. “Fuck yeah. So fucking sexy.”

You arch up into his touch as he resumes the firm stroking of his fingers, pounding into your g-spot, hard enough to make your legs shake. When another wave of pleasure rolls through you, you don’t even have to think about it this time. Your body instinctively remembers Yoongi’s instructions, bursts of arousal shooting out of you as you moan softly with each pump of his hand.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” you gasp in time with his movements.

“Holy shit,” Yoongi rasps as he draws his fingers out again, and you hear him groan when he returns to your clit and easily works even more wetness out of you. “You just keep fucking coming. Gonna soak my fucking sheets.”

You can barely process what he’s saying. “M-more, Yoongi, please.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, “I’ll give you more.” He adds another finger, driving the thrust of his hand deliberately into the weight at the center of your core, and the stretch only makes you come that much faster. Your pussy starts to quiver as he fucks you through it.

“Yoongiiiii,” you groan, dragging out his name as you squirt again and again. He keeps alternating, fingers slipping into you and working up more, then pulling out to press his hand flat against your whole pussy, rubbing indirectly over your clit. Wetness splashes out of you in endless spurts, soaking your cunt, his hand, the bed. It feels like you're coming for hours.

“No more, no more,” you finally gasp, and when you bring your hand to close over his wrist, Yoongi takes the cue and withdraws.

Your pussy, thighs, even the muscles in your ass are all trembling from overstimulation. As your knees drop in towards each other, you take a moment to let your eyes close, your pulse still racing. You feel absolutely spent.

You can’t believe you just did that. You had no idea your body was capable of such a thing. And before you can even think to stop it, you start to laugh, bringing both hands up to cover your face.

“Oh my god,” you manage to choke out between giggles, your voice muffled in your palms.

You’re vaguely aware of the mattress shifting beside you, and when you pull your hands away, Yoongi is seated next to you, running one hand gently over your arm. “Jesus, are you okay?” When you nod, he seems to relax a little.

“Yeah, but holy shit,” you gasp. “I should’ve taken you more seriously.” Your limbs feel like jello, your mind absolutely gone– you’ve officially been fingerfucked into oblivion. “I nearly died.”

“That was fucking insane,” Yoongi admits, looking mildly dazed himself. You follow his gaze across the bedspread, and your eyes go wide.

“Oh fuck, Yoongi,” you press a hand to your mouth, attempting to hold back more laughter, as you take in the extent of the damage. “Your sheets!”

A sizable wet spot has bloomed under your ass, right in the center of the bed and extending nearly half a foot down towards the end, clear as day against his gray-blue sheets.

“Why didn’t you stop me?!”

“Are you kidding?” He practically growls, free hand palming at the bulge in his briefs. “I’ll take watching you gush like that any day. I can sleep on the couch, I don’t give a fuck.”

It takes all the strength you can muster, given that your limbs still feel like they’re made of lead, but you manage to roll over onto your side to face him. You catch his working hand by the wrist with yours. “There’s always… my bed.”

“Yeah?” A smile plays at the corner of his mouth. “Think your pussy can recover on the ride over?”

You laugh softly, glancing down at the mess he’s made of you, the lingering sheen from his mouth and your own fluids. “I’m honestly not sure. She might be out of commission.” You do your best to feign innocence when you meet his gaze again with a coy smile. “But my throat is very available.”

Yoongi is already reaching for his jeans. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

#yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #bts smut #bts x reader #anonymous

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punksdoll · 4 months

Note

can you please do an pt 3 of "always loved" where rhea confronts readers "BF" and says to him like ,,she's my girl now you will never lay your filthy fingers on her again,,

~~~𝑨𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅~~~

pt. 1 of always loved

pt. 2 of always loved

gif not mine like, comments, & reblogs appreciated

𝑹𝒉𝒆𝒂 𝑹𝒊𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒚 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ^owner of gif

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: 𝑹𝒉𝒆𝒂 𝒈𝒐𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒆𝒙’𝒔 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒇𝒇.

𝒂/𝒏: 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒐𝒐𝒐. 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆 𝑨𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒊 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓:). 𝑰 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈<𝟑

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 𝒎𝒂𝒎𝒊 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒐𝒑, 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌, 𝒆𝒙 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒕, 𝒓𝒉𝒆𝒂 𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒔𝒉𝒆’𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒔 (𝒚𝒌?), 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒇 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒃𝒄 𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝒉𝒊𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒄🙄, 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇

translations: Que Que: What?! Donde Ta: Where is it?

not proofread

She kept her promise.

After that night and after they confessed everything again with y/n sober, they had went to the police station and reported everything. Y/n had shown them the bruises, shown them videos, and shown them the messages that were filled with death threats. They had made an arrest only for them to release him and force y/n to get a restraining order.

“QUE QUE?!” Y/n shouts as she stands up from Rhea’s couch and looks at Rhea who rushes over, frowning. “It’s because i’m Puerto Rican isn’t in? Those mother fuckers.”

Rhea raises an eyebrow as she watches y/n start cursing up a storm in spanish before hanging the phone up as she looks at Rhea.

“They let him out. Now I need to go get a restraining order.”

Rhea’s jaw drops, “they can’t just do that? you had so much proof.”

“That’s what I said,” y/n huffs with a roll of her eyes.

They got the restraining order and everything was all rainbows and sunshine.

Until now

“Donde ta, donde ta…”

Rhea walks into her room and raises an eyebrow as she watches y/n in their shared closet and throwing out clothes left and right.

“What the hell are you doing, love?” Rhea asks.

Her voice makes y/n jump and turn towards Rhea. “I think I left my favorite shoes at…his house.”

The short time that her ex was in jail, her and Rhea had went to her old home and had gathered up all her belongings. Unfortunately for y/n, she had forgotten a pair of shoes that rarely wears but it is important to her.

“I can buy you new ones.” Rhea frowns.

Y/n shakes her head, “Limited edition Dem, limiteddd…” she frowns.

Rhea raises an eyebrow, “Would you like it if I went instead to get them?”

Y/n’s eyes widened as she stares at Rhea, “Would you?”

“I’ll do anything,” she nods with a smile.

Y/n gives her a smile and nods, “ok…yes please”

•••

Rhea looks at the house in front of her, recognizing it to be Y/n’s old home. She then looks back at the message that y/n had send.

It’s under the bed in the guest room

“Under the bed in the guest room.” Rhea repeats as she gets out and walks up towards the door. She stops in front of it and debates what she wants to do and how she wants to do it.

Knock on the door like a regular person and tell him who I am? Or be dramatic and let it be known just by a look?

Rhea looks at the key in her hand, “the latter.”

Rhea puts the key in the keyhole and enters the home without shame. She looks around and see boxes that are packed and it’s clear that her ex was moving.

“Who the hell…” the man in thought strolls over and pauses when he sees Rhea. His eyebrows furrow as he looks her up and down, “are you?”

Rhea takes a look at him up and down before she starts taking long strides towards him. As she gets closer to him, she realizes that he is way shorter than the last time she saw him. The ex notices the height difference and starts backing up slowly.

“Where’s the shoes.” Rhea demands. Seeing the boxes gave her the impression that it could be in one of them.

“What shoes…” he trails.

Rhea ignores him and starts walking upstairs and to the guest room that y/n had told her

the one that’s two doors away from the bathroom

She finds it almost immediately and walks in. She goes to the side of the bed and gets down, looking under and finding the shoes almost immediately.

“Get the hell out of my dam house.” The ex rushes in, “i’ll call the police on you damit.”

Rhea rolls her eyes and stands up with the shoes in her clutch. “This was never your house. This was y/n’s house.”

The ex finally realizes who Rhea is and chuckles shaking his head, “is she to pussy to face me or something? Afraid ima hit her? Hm?”

Rhea narrows her eyes, “Do not call her that.” She warns.

“Or what?” The ex raises an eyebrow, “whatever I did with her, i’ll do to you then turn right back to her and do 10x worse of what I did before.”

Rhea takes in a deep breath before walking towards him with a glare. “Say that again…”

The ex is smug as he watches her, “I said wha-,”

Rhea throws a punch at his face and watches him tumble back and on the ground with a grunt, holding his jaw. She grabs a handful of his shirt and pulls him closer to her, “She’s my girl now, got it? And if I ever see you around her and lay your filthy greasy fuck hands on her? I will come for you.” She gives him a deadly stare as he looks at her with wide eyes.

She shoves him away and walks away, the shoes dangling on her fingers as it never was set down even after the altercation.

#wwe imagine #wwe raw #wwe smackdown #wwe x reader #wwe superstars #wwe one shot #wwe judgement day #mami rhea #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley imagine #wwe rhea ripley #rhearipley #rhea x reader #rhea ripley

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lemonlover1110 · 6 months

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𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥

Toji Fushiguro

[Chapter 2] Visiting

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Pairing: Baseball Player!Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

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“He asked you to what?!” Shoko is absolutely bewildered when she hears the news that you have. She isn’t all that surprised about the fact that you had sex, she expected as much. However, she didn’t expect the man to ask for you to get married. She’s heard a lot about Toji, nothing was related to commitment and how loyal he is. They’re all rumors of course, but they all stem from somewhere. “Please tell me you rejected him.”

After your night with Toji, you find yourself in your best friend’s house. She’s in the kitchen, preparing herself a tea, and you’re with her, telling her about your date with the famous baseball player.

“I’m not in the plane with him, or am I?” You respond, a chuckle leaving your lips. Shoko squints her eyes before she tilts her head to the side. She doesn’t fully trust you. Her nails tap the granite counter that separates you two.

“What did you answer?” She has a serious tone of voice, and it almost sends a chill down your spine. It’s rare to hear her so serious. You take a moment to answer, and she repeats the question, even more serious than before, “What did you answer? Oh my god, please–”

“I told him I’d think about it.” You finally respond, and she slaps her palm on her forehead. She’s always viewed you as a smart woman, so why did the words that come out of your mouth sound like the most ridiculous thing you could possibly say? You’re not dumb enough to think about marrying an absolute stranger… Yet your response entertains that idea.

“No. Your answer should’ve been no because you two don’t know each other.” Shoko tells you, and you click your tongue. Where’s the fun in that? You aren’t going to share your thoughts though, knowing it’ll lead to getting berated by the woman that’s in front of you. “I can’t believe you… What happened after that?”

“Well… We had sex again, we talked a bit, getting to know each other then we had sex again. After that we fell asleep and when I woke up, he was gone.” You say, and she sighs. She can’t say she’s disappointed, it’s your life and you do whatever the hell you want. She’s just in disbelief that this is happening. “Can you believe that he has a flip phone?”

“Don’t change the topic!” She raises her voice, but she thinks that maybe changing the topic is the best option. She doesn’t want to overstep. It’s your choice after all, if you want to fuck up your life, she can’t yell at you for it. She takes a deep breath to calm down, “You do what you think is best, baby. Marrying him isn’t a smart choice but I’ll support you no matter what.”

“I’m not marrying him.” You assure her, even though you don’t believe your own words. You just feel so drawn to him, and you’re enamored with him even if you just met. Maybe you’re confusing your feelings of attraction with something else.

“I don’t trust you.” She answers. She hears the kettle whistle and she rushes to focus on that. At the end of the day, you make your own choices so she shouldn’t push the subject. You clear your throat before asking,

“Didn’t you have to tell me something?” You watch her pause as she tries to recall what she was going to tell you. You really caught her off guard with your news. Her eyes light up as she remembers, and a soft smile comes to her lips as you watch her cheeks turn a sweet shade of pink.

“I met the woman of my dreams last night, and best of all, she spent the night.” She tells you, and your brows raise. You should make a snarky remark but you bite your tongue, instead, you opt to listen. “She’s so perfect– I was so shocked she showed any interest in me but when I tell you I was over the moon when she approached me.”

“Do you have a picture of her? I want to see her.” You say, and she shakes her head in response. You watch as she pours the boiling water into a cup before she grabs a tea bag and dunks it in the water. “You got her number though, right?”

She stays silent. That’s your response.

You’re about to reassure her, gathering the right words to say but it’s hard. You suck at comforting people. Just as you’re about to speak pathetic words, your phone begins to ring. You see a very familiar name which makes the biggest smile appear on your lips. You excuse yourself, walking away to answer the phone. You go to Shoko’s room and shut the door behind you.

“Hey, Toji.” You speak lowly so Shoko doesn’t hear that it’s him, even when she has an idea of who it is. You love hearing your name as he greets you, it sounds flawless when it rolls off his tongue. “Not that I mind but… Why are you calling? I don’t have a solid answer yet.”

“Just want to inform my pretty lady that I’ll be in her town next week.” Toji tells you, and a foolish smile comes to your lips at the thought of seeing him again. You smile even more stupidly when you realize that he calls you his pretty lady. It’s all so sudden, but you like it. You like him. Maybe not enough to marry him, not yet at least.

“Are you coming to visit me?” You ask him, and you’re nearly over the moon when he says yes. “Then I’ll wait for you here, we can do whatever you want when you’re here. You have my number, and I’m always available for you.”

“I’ll see you then–” Toji is about to say something else, but Shoko calls out your name and you hang up without a second thought. You act as if you’ve almost been caught doing something bad. You try to play it off as if you’re not doing anything, but Shoko doesn’t care enough.

“Do you have any plans tomorrow night? Someone invited me to a birthday party and I don’t want to go alone.” Shoko asks, and you shake your head. You awkwardly smile.

“Let’s go out, that sounds like fun.”

You offered Toji to pick him up from the airport, and now you look around, searching for a tall strong man that’s nearly twice your size. You keep looking at the time, wondering if he’s off the plane yet. You check on your phone the time his flight is supposed to arrive, and you watch as luggage comes out from the conveyor belt, luggage from his flight. Maybe you should try to call him but his stupid flip phone is probably still on airplane mode.

“Where the hell are you?” You mutter, eyes hunting for the man. You’re being impatient, you just got here. You need to give him some time, he probably got off the plane and had to use the bathroom. You know that you’d feel self conscious shitting in an airplane bathroom.

You don’t like airports– At least not when you’re picking up someone else. Someone else that’s not all that easy to communicate with; you can still send him a text even if he has a flip phone, he’ll just take a little longer to respond. You decide to send him a text, asking if he’s off the plane yet.

“Hey!” You hear his voice and your head darts his way. He’s comfortable, wearing a simple black t-shirt and sweatpants, yet he manages to look as hot as ever. You smile at him, and you walk towards him, rushing to him after taking a couple of steps. You wrap your arms around him, and it takes him by surprise but he hugs you back.

“It’s so nice to see you again.” You say, and it comes out muffled since your face is pressed against his chest. You let go, and Toji weakly smiles at you.

“It’s so nice to see you again too.” He answers, and he walks to the conveyor belt to get his luggage, and once it’s in his hands, you two begin to walk to the elevator that’ll take you to the parking lot. When you enter the elevator, his hand goes into his pocket and he waves the brand new device in front of your face, “Look what I got.”

“You finally got a normal phone.” You grab the phone from his hands, and you inspect it. It’s the newest model, the old man doesn’t know what to do with all of that. “Did you change your number too?”

“Nope. Still got the same one.” He answers as you open the phone’s camera. You extend your arm out and lean towards Toji, pursing your lips together and putting up a peace sign. Toji leans down so he makes sure he’s on camera, and you snap the picture. You hand the phone back to him.

“I look pretty in that picture, you should make it your home screen.” You tell him, and he furrows his brows as he unlocks his phone.

“How do you do that?” He responds, making you chuckle. You take the phone from his hand and change the generic wallpaper to the picture you took. You hand it back to him, a smirk on your lips. The elevator doors open, and he clears his throat, “So do you have anything special planned for us?”

“Not yet, but there’s a couple fun things we can do.” You reply, and he wonders what you have in mind, but he’ll allow you to surprise him. Even if he doesn’t like surprises. You get to the car and open the trunk so he can put his luggage inside. It feels awkward for him to get into the passenger seat of your car, but he has no option but to since he doesn’t know his way to your apartment nor around the city. You get into the car and you ask, “What do you want for dinner tonight? I can cook or we can go out to eat.”

“Hmm… Are you a good cook?” Toji asks, and you hum in response. At least you like to think that you are. You turn on the car and get out of the parking lot, starting the trip to your apartment. “I want to taste your cooking.”

“You can’t blame me if you get food poisoning though.” You joke, making him chuckle. He thinks you’re joking. He prays it’s a joke. You don’t want the car ride to be silent, you can’t let thirty seconds of silence go by before you ask, “How are your games going?”

“You haven’t been watching?” He replies. You haven’t. You’re sure he knows that you aren’t a fan of the game, and as much as you’d adore to watch as the man that sits next to you hits some balls and does whatever the fuck the game consists of, you really don’t get to see much of him on the TV. He’s the only reason you’d tune in to watch a game.

“I’d rather do other things.” You don’t tell him what you’d rather do, he has an idea. Anything but watch the game. “Aren’t you going to answer the question?”

“The games are great. The team is doing great.” Toji keeps it vague, not wanting to bore you to death with something that you’re clearly not interested in. It makes you clear your throat and ask more about the topic, and he answers with more details. He’s clearly passionate about his job, so you’re entertained while you hear him talk.

You smile at him when you’re at a red light, and he smiles back at you. You won’t get to spend too much time together, but you know you’re going to have fun. Maybe not enough to get you to marry him, but enough to almost convince you to say yes. Almost.

Toji settles into your apartment, and he makes himself comfortable immediately. It’s nice that he’s comfortable enough with you to do so. Toji likes the apartment, although it’s way smaller than the one he lives in– This place doesn’t compete with his home but it’s cozy. And at least you’re here.

“I’ll go take a shower, then we can talk about dinner.” Toji says, and you watch as he opens his suitcase to pull out some underwear. He walks away and opens some doors to figure out where the bathroom is, and when he figures it out, he locks himself inside. You close the suitcase and bring it to your room so it doesn’t take up the space in the living room. He isn’t staying for long, but the suitcase is filled to the brim, almost too heavy for you to carry.

You almost find yourself in disbelief that he’s staying here, you thought that he’d never contact you again when you didn’t jump into his arms and squeal yes when he proposed. You did leave him uncertain though, leaving him with a bit of hope. You’re sure you’ll reject him again if he asks again.

“I need to see what I’ll cook tonight.” You talk to yourself, grabbing your phone to look up recipes. You try to think of what Toji ate when you went out together, and maybe you’ll look up something similar to make for him– But you also want to know what other food he likes.

You decide to toss your phone to the side, you’ll be asking him what he wants for dinner when he gets out of the shower. You focus on your bed, smoothing out the comforter. Your usual unorganized room looks like one of a magazine since it’s where Toji will be sleeping for the time he stays at your apartment. You’re sure it won’t take long for the room to become disorganized again since Toji doesn’t seem like the type of person to be neat, even when he’s staying at someone else’s place.

You proceed to lay down on the bed, grabbing your phone. You become so engrossed in the small screen that you’re startled when Toji walks into the room. “So do you have an idea of what you want for dinner? I’m getting hungry.”

You look away from the phone and at him. Water droplets going down his half-naked body. From his chest to his abs all the way to his briefs. His stupid fucking briefs. You’ve never been more mad at a piece of clothing before.

“Did I forget to put out a towel in the bathroom? I’m sorry.” You apologize, trying to focus your eyes on his face rather than his body. But your eyes keep lingering on his well-toned torso– Damn him, he looks like a god. He notices, and he chuckles.

“My eyes are up here.” He tells you, and you mumble an apology. He smirks as he walks to his suitcase to grab clean clothes. “Not that I mind.”

“What do you want for dinner? I’m not sure what you like.” You ask, watching as he puts on another pair of sweatpants and another compression shirt– It’s fair to say that he’s not the man with the most creative fashion style but he still looks hot.

“I don’t know.” He shrugs, and you laugh. You guess you’ll stick with something simple: white rice, steak, and a salad. If anything else pops up, you’ll make it but that’s what you’ll be sticking with right now.

“Okay, but you can’t complain if you don’t like it.” You respond, standing up and walking out of the room and heading to the kitchen. You open the freezer to take the meat out to thaw, and then proceed to check what you have in the fridge. You call out his name, “Toji! Come here, you’re helping me!”

“I’m a bad cook.” He claims when he walks out of your bedroom. That’s not enough to convince you though.

“You can chop up some vegetables, you don’t have to be a great cook for that.” You respond and he exaggerates a sigh that almost makes you laugh. “You know what, you can do it later. Wait for the meat to thaw.”

“What protein are you cooking?” He asks, and you tell him. “I can help you with that.”

“Aren’t you a bad cook though? Wouldn’t want you to burn the steak.” You reply.

“I can do that. That’s as much as I can do.” He answers, and you decide to not answer. You’ll make him chop up the vegetables later. Now you’ll focus on putting the rice on the stove. You put a pot of water, salt and a bit of oil on the stove before you wash two cups of rice. Toji sits on your couch and grabs the remote to turn on the TV. “Do you have any baseball channels?”

“I think you can go through the channel guide to find something.” You answer. You almost ask him why he wants to watch baseball, if he isn’t tired of the game considering that’s his job. But it seems like he’s super passionate about it, so you won’t make a comment about it.

Once the rice is on low, you walk over to him and take a seat next to him. You watch the game that he has on and you try to act interested, but you find yourself yawning at the game. You rest your head on his shoulder while he focuses on the game, and he throws his arm over you. You act like you’re dating– It’s not something too crazy since he proposed on your third meeting.

“You still need to cut up the vegetables.” You tell him, and he hums in response. You look up at him, his eyes glued to the television. You sit in complete silence for a moment, trying to focus your attention on the boring game. His stomach growls, and for some reason that gives you the idea of what you’re going to be doing the next day. “Let’s have a picnic tomorrow.”

“A picnic?” He raises his brows, and you nod in response. He purses his lips together, thinking about it before he shrugs, focusing his attention back to the television. Why not? The weather is nice outside, you might as well. “Sounds good.”

“Were you thinking of something else?” You ask, standing up from the couch to go to the kitchen. Instead of leaving the salad to him, you begin to chop the vegetables since it’s more entertaining than what he has on TV.

You and Toji end up cuddling for the night, Toji too tired to really do anything apart from a light makeout session. He wakes you up early, claiming he’s made breakfast even though the previous night he claimed he was a bad cook– He wasn’t exactly wrong since you wake up to the smell of overcooked/almost burnt eggs. You appreciate the toast, almost burnt scrambled eggs, and the pieces of fruit that are cooked too big nonetheless.

It’s a sweet act, even though he leaves the kitchen a mess and you have to clean it up. Toji makes a couple of phone calls while you clean up, and he’s still on the phone when you’re finished. You assume he’s calling his son and whoever else, so you leave him alone to get ready for your date. You excitedly get ready, thinking about the cute date that you’ll have. You’ll stop by the convenience store and buy some snacks before stopping at the park. The weather is perfect for this sort of date.

“You look beautiful.” Toji comments when you’re ready. You wear a strapless floral sundress and wear some light makeup that matches your outfit. You smile at him, going to your closet to grab the wedges that you’ll be putting on. You try not to focus on Toji as he undresses in front of you to get into the shower. It tempts you to ruin your makeup and get undressed to join him; you keep telling yourself that you can do that later.

When you’re both ready, you leave with a tote bag that has a blanket, some snacks, and some necessary utensils. Toji follows you blindly, unsure where the park you’re going is headed. It’s clearly nearby since you opted out from driving. You stop at the convenience store to get some snacks that you’re sure he likes, and then you head to the park.

You put down the blue blanket on the grass, and you both take off your shoes before taking a seat on the cover. You begin to eat the snacks that you have, and you ask, “Who were you talking to?”

“Megumi.” He answers, making you tilt your head to the side and raise your brows. “My son.”

“Oh…” You reply, and for some reason you sound disappointed. Until a chuckle leaves your lips. His brows furrow, confused at the response, and you bite down your lip before you answer, “You asked me to marry you and I don’t even know your son’s name… It’s just funny to me.”

“Yeah… The proposal was just a spur of the moment thing.” He responds, and you feel your face get warm of embarrassment. You replied that you would think about it only to hear that it was a spur of the moment thing… You try to remind yourself that you were going to reject the proposal. He watches your reaction closely before he says, “The feelings still stand though, and if you want to get married right now, I’m willing to do it. Even though we have to learn a lot about each other.”

“Let’s get to know each other first before we even think about marriage.” You respond. You’ve been talking with each other on the phone whenever you’re available, and slowly getting to know each other from a distance. Not enough to actually get married though, since this is the first time you hear his son’s name. “If we make it to marriage.”

“Do you see yourself getting married?” He asks a question he probably should’ve asked before proposing. You nod your head in response.

“I always have. I’m just not in a rush.” You answer. Toji munches on some chips, and he extends his hand, offering you some. You take a handful. “You shouldn’t be in a rush either.”

“You’re right. If I rush it, it’ll end up as a third divorce.” He makes you laugh with his response, even though it wasn’t a joke. It’s odd to think that he’s gotten married twice before. Maybe you’ve talked to a divorced man once or twice, but not one that had gotten divorced twice, and certainly not one that’s semi-famous. His eyes fall on a father and son that play catch, and it brings him a weak smile. It probably reminds him of him and his own son. He comments, “The dad has a weak throw, that poor kid is not going to learn how to throw that ball properly.”

“Go help them out.” You’re joking but Toji takes it seriously. He stands up, and you open and close your mouth as you’re about to tell him that you weren’t being serious but he’s already approaching the duo. The little kid looks excited, a grin on his face as he notices Toji, and you can safely assume he’s a fan of the player.

It’s sweet to watch Toji grab the ball from the dad, and throw it back to the father a couple of times before Toji teaches the tricks he can to the boy. You wonder if he’s like that with his son. You know Toji doesn’t see his son all that often, and Toji calls him a deadbeat, but you want to believe he’s a great dad when he’s with his son. You wonder how their dynamic is and how often Toji sees him.

You watch as the kid runs to search for a marker, and you find yourself laughing. The father begins to talk to Toji, and Toji entertains the conversation. Toji signs the ball when the kid comes back with a marker, and the father ends up taking a photo of the two. Toji walks back and sits on the blanket, and you comment, “That was so sweet.”

“What can I say? I’m a sweet man.” He responds, and you both chuckle because you know it’s not true. You reach into the bag to hand him some more food, and as he takes it from your hands. You clear your throat, making his attention go to you, “What’s up?”

“What are your thoughts on having more kids?” You ask simply because you’re curious. Does he want more? Or does he not want to go through that journey once again.

“Hmm… Kids aren’t a dealbreaker for me. Either I have one more, or I don’t. But I do hope you know that if you want kids, I’m not going to be very present. My job keeps me busy.” Toji answers. You have some questions about it; whether that's the reason he and the mother of his son separated due to his absence. But you won’t dwell on it, it’s not the right time to ask. “Why do you ask? Do you want kids and it’s a dealbreaker?”

“Oh, I’m just wondering. You were just so lovely with that kid that I wondered if you wanted more or not.” You reply. You try to change the topic to something more playful since you feel like such serious matters kill the mood. “Have you gotten used to the phone? It looks like too much for you to handle.”

“What are you trying to say? That I’m too old for that kind of technology?” His brows are furrowed, and you laugh. You hum in response.

“You’re an old fart.” You affirm. “Well, more because you had a flip phone… Speaking of, did you change your phone because of me? Or am I giving myself too much credit?”

“No you’re right. I was insulted after you insulted my phone so I decided to get a new one. Apparently this is the latest model, that’s what I was told anyway.” Toji says, and he hands you the phone. “You can check any features that your phone doesn’t have. The password is 1222.”

“What are you trying to say? I’m too broke to get a phone like this?” You ask as you put in the easy passcode. It’s like he has nothing to hide which is nice.

“I am.” And it makes you roll your eyes. It really doesn’t have anything that’s much different from your phone other than the better camera. You toss the phone back to him, and while he is a great catcher, his life nearly flashes before his eyes. “Careful with the phone.”

“Sorry.” You don’t sound sorry though, but he’ll make you sorry later.

You continue talking until your eyes grow heavy, and you both lay down for a moment. It’s supposed to be for a few minutes, but he brings you into his embrace, and the few minutes turn into a few hours.

You wake up to soft snoring, the weather outside much colder than earlier– The sun is no longer out, and you panic immediately. You sit up and check to see if everything is still there, and after verifying that you haven’t been robbed, you poke Toji. You poke him until he finally opens his eyes.

“What?” He groggily wakes up, and the first thing he sees are the stars in the night sky. He sits up and asks, “We fell asleep for a little too long.”

“We did.” You respond, and you’re about to stand up, but he grabs your arm and pulls you back down onto the blanket.

“We’re already here. Might as well stargaze.” He tells you. You lay your head back down on his chest, and look up at the sky since you have no option but to. He’s holding you down.

“Aren’t you hungry?” You ask him. The sky is clear tonight, and you can luckily view many stars in the sky. You would admire it if you weren’t a little confused after waking up outside. Luckily Toji forces you to admire it.

“We can go get something quick in an hour or so. We’re okay.” He assures you. Your ear is pressed against his chest, and you listen to his heartbeat which soothes you. You slowly calm down and admire the night sky. “I’m leaving tomorrow night.”

“Don’t remind me.” He’s no longer forcing you down so you sit up. You love spending time with him, you wish your time with him wasn’t so short lived. You wish at the very least you could meet up for coffee twice a week, and go on a fancy date on a random Saturday. You pout your lips, and he sits up as well.

“I’ll come to visit again.” He cups your face and presses his lips on yours momentarily. Your hands go over his, forcing him to keep his warm palms on your cold face. His lips fall on yours again, but this kiss is more passionate. His tongue enters your mouth and presses against yours. You let go of his hands and they move down from your face to your waist.

You get on top of him, knee on either side of him as the kiss deepens. He’s feeding your hunger, and you have no idea why you’re so touch deprived. Maybe it’s because he was teasing you the previous night and the entire week you were working yourself up at the mere thought of him. This man does the unbelievable to you.

“Toji…” You feel a soft breeze spread goosebumps on your skin, and it reminds you of where you’re at. You’re not fucking in a park– He shouldn’t even think about that, he’s somewhat famous. People know him. People would know you if anyone recognizes him and takes pictures. He pecks your lips a handful of times when you pull away, and you have to say, “Not here.”

“Huh? Why not?” He asks as you get off him. You stand up, and lend your hand so he can get up more easily. It hits him a little late, when the blood rushes from his dick back to his brain. You can’t risk getting caught. The rush is fun, but a few minutes of pleasure isn’t worth the risk of the consequences. Plus, you have a bed back home where you can do whatever you want. “Bad idea. You’re right.”

“Acting like a horny teenager for me, don’t forget I have an apartment and live alone.” You point out, making you both laugh. He laughs more in embarrassment than anything. You begin to pack everything in the tote bag. When your shoes are back on, you begin the walk to the convenience store again, ready to get something quick for dinner.

“You know, I can fly you out. You can watch my next game and then we can spend a whole week together.” Toji offers, and a smile comes to your lips at the idea. You can ask for a week off since you have a lot of vacation days leftover. Your arm intertwines with his, and you lean on him as you walk to the store.

“I like that idea. It sounds like a lot of fun.” You respond. You think to yourself how if he were to propose right now, you’d gladly accept. But luckily, Toji isn’t as stupid as he was that night. You find yourself weak for him when you hear a low laugh from him and he kisses the top of your head, assuring you,

“It’s a date then.”

#toji x y/n #toji zenin #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro #daddy toji #fushiguro toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #toji x reader #toji x you #dilf toji #toji fushiguro x you #toji fanfic #toji fic

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year

Note

HAPPY 500 BABE!! stewy smut with 23 perhaps?!

Fully Clothed.

23. "Good girl." / "Perfect girl."

Author's Note - this is a drabble written as part of my 500 Followers Celebration!! find that post here if you're interested in sending a request!! always happy when i get a stewy request - thank you anon for sending this in and for being so sweet <3

Pairing - Stewy Hosseini x Assistant!Female Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - smut!! sexual content and cursing.

Word Count - 881

Masterlist. 500 Follower Celebration Masterlist.

"Come in."

You enter the office to be met with the sight of Stewy Hosseini with his head in his hands, hair messy where he's been running his fingers through it.

"You okay?" you ask tentatively.

Stewy just sighs in response.

It's no secret that he has a reputation for being one of the calmest men in the business. He never gets angry, rarely gets upset - he approaches every deal with a level head, and an almost irritating amount of confidence. You can count on one hand the number of times you've seen him genuinely stressed.

This must be bad.

"I just wanted to see if you needed anything," you press. You take a step further into the office, bringing yourself into his eyeline.

Stewy checks his watch and looks at you with wide eyes.

"You were supposed to go home two hours ago. What are you still doing here?"

Shit. You didn't think he'd notice.

"I... uh - I know that you're stressed about this deal, and... I didn't think it was fair to leave you here alone. Thought you might want a familiar face around, maybe," you say quietly.

"See, this is why I bought you that mug for Christmas," he jokes.

Your present from him had been a mug with the slogan 'World's Best Assistant' written in bright red letters. You loved it.

You laugh, and the sound releases some of the tension from his shoulders.

"Do you need anything?" you ask again, eager to do your job and make his life a little easier.

"Yeah, actually. Can you shut those blinds?"

He nods to the big windows next to the door that look out onto the floor of empty desks, everyone else having gone home.

"Of course," you reply, moving to do as he asked. Once they're shut, he moves his chair back slightly, creating space between him and the desk he was previously sat behind.

"Come here," he murmurs.

He says it quietly, so as not to startle you, but you hear it clear as day. You approach him carefully, moving to stand between his spread legs. He looks up at you with mischievous eyes.

He pats his thighs, signalling for you to sit down. When he sees you hesitate, he reaches for your hips, pulling you towards him gently.

"Sit with me, pretty girl."

You throw your inhibitions out the window, and move so you're straddling him on his big leather chair.

"Other way," he commands, but the scent and warmth of him is making you dizzy. You can't quite comprehend what he's telling you.

"Huh?"

"You fucked out already, honey? I haven't even touched you yet," he teases.

He pushes you off him, and pulls you back down so your back is against his chest. He moves your thighs so they're spread open by his. He rolls his hips upwards, and you can feel him hot and hard against your ass. It makes you whine, and he chuckles at the sound.

Stewy dances his fingers up the insides of your thighs, underneath your pencil skirt. When he gets to your underwear, he caresses the edges gently, avoiding where you need him most.

"Please," you whimper.

"Please what, sweetheart?" he goads, revelling in seeing you so pliant.

"Please touch me, Stewy."

"There you go," he murmurs. "Atta girl. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

With that, he pulls your underwear to the side and runs his fingers through your slick.

"Fuck," he groans. "This all for me, sweet girl?"

"Yes," you moan, throwing your head back to rest on his shoulder. He kisses your temple and inhales the scent of your shampoo. Yep, he's fucked.

He decides to take mercy on you, watching you writhe in his lap. He pushes two fingers into you, groaning and rolling his hips when he feels how warm you are.

You sigh in relief, canting your hips up to meet his fingers. He starts to work up a steady rhythm, curling his fingers on every upstroke. He knows when he's found the spot, because the moan you let out is pornographic. He's suddenly glad the office is empty.

"Right there?" he murmurs into your ear, breath warm on your cheek.

"Yes," you whine. "Yes, yes, please."

"You're filthy, you know that? Letting me finger fuck you in my office, both of us fully clothed."

You whimper, and Stewy speeds up his fingers, moving his thumb to circle your clit in tandem with his strokes.

"There we go," he mutters. "I can feel it, pretty girl. Give it to me. Let me have it."

Your mouth opens, but no sound comes out as you reach your high. Your back arches up and away from him, but he pulls you back with a strong arm wrapped around your front.

"Good girl," he groans. "Perfect girl. So good for me."

He lets you ride out your climax before pulling out his fingers and shoving them straight into his mouth.

You moan at the sight, and he winks cheekily.

"Come on, pretty girl," he murmurs. "Let's get you home."

You look at him questioningly, and he understands without you having to say the words.

"My home," he clarifies. "Now that I've had a taste of you, I'm never gonna get enough, honey."

stewy tag list -

@justacaliforniandreamer

@616wilsons

@isuspectitwasthenargles

#stewy hosseini #stewy hosseini x oc #stewy hosseini smut #stewy hosseini fluff #stewy hosseini x you #stewy hosseini x reader smut #stewy hosseini x reader #succession #succession fanfic #succession smut #succession fic #arian moayed #succession x reader #succession x you #murphy's 500 followers celebration #kendall roy x reader #kendall roy smut #stewy hosseini x assistant reader #stewy hosseini x assistant!reader

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leilakisakabiri · 1 year

Text

Try Not To Laugh Challenge (Pedri)

Summary: You and Pedri are co-workers who are paired up to do a video for the Barcelona Instagram account - the only thing is you’re dating and both bad at hiding the feelings.

Warning(s): none

A/N: Please send in any requests if you have any.

Word Count: [2035]

You stared at the email in disbelief. Just your luck.

You were currently being asked by your manager to meet him on the training grounds to film a video for Barcelona’s Instagram page with Pedri.

Big no.

Originally, Gavi was supposed to film the video with him but had to cancel last minute as the shoot he was doing with Nike was taking longer than anticipated.

Because of the short notice, the players had already been sent home, with only Pedri remaining after practice.

This led to you getting an email from your manager to step up and take the role as you were the team’s social media intern.

You didn’t want to turn him down, one because he was your boss and technically you weren’t even sure if you could without getting fired, but two also because you hadn’t seen Pedri all week and a small part of your brain, that was filled with all the mushy gushy feelings missed him.

The two of you had met when you started your internship with Barcelona the summer prior, he had just been ending his second year as a professional, and you had just ended your second year of college, thus landing the internship as a result.

Initially, things had been pretty awkward between the two of you. You rarely ever saw the players, often being thrown headfirst into the research aspect of social media marketing, such as trying to predict trends and analyzing raw data. It wasn’t until 5 weeks later that you had your first encounter with the boy.

You had walked into the break room, which to be fair was more of a snack room than anything else, the tables filled with different assortments of food.

Once there you noticed that there was only one other person present. A brown-haired boy on the other end of the table, looking intently at what appeared to be muffins.

You chose to ignore him at first, deciding to see the spread of food the Barcelona staff had brought in for everyone today. Your eyes locked on the pizza, and your body filled with excitement.

You were a big fan of pizza.

There was only one slice left and it was calling your name.

You grabbed a plate and made your way over, reaching out, just as another hand stole the pizza.

You looked up, ready to fight for what was rightfully yours, making eye contact with the boy from earlier.

He spoke first “Oh my bad. Did you want that?”

You cleared your throat, ready to stake your claim, but instead only came up with “Oh no, no worries.”

God damn it Y/N. You really need to grow a backbone you thought.

The boy looked at you, “Are you sure, you can have it if you want.”

He held up the limp pizza and you both watched as the cheese slowly started to separate from the sauce.

“I’m good. Thanks.”

The boy nodded before moving along the line.

You looked back over at the food, you had skipped breakfast earlier this morning as your boss asked you to come in earlier than expected so you didn’t have time to grab anything.

As you were contemplating whether to eat a muffin or an apple your stomach began to growl.

You felt your cheeks grow hot as you desperately prayed the boy standing just a few feet away didn’t hear it.

“Okay, clearly you’re hungry. Just take the slice, really I don’t even want it, it’s bad for my diet.”

You wanted to die. You finally met someone who looked around your age and the first thing you did was embarrass yourself in front of them.

You turned around to face the boy, he was once again holding the pizza in his hand, but this time he was stretching it out to you as a peace offering.

You looked at him as he gave you a warm smile.

“Split it?” You asked.

The boy grinned, “For sure.”

After that, whenever you and Pedri saw each other in the hallways you always made sure to stop and say hello. Eventually, those hellos became walking with each other back to your respective cars whenever you ended at the same time. Those walks then became lunch breaks, and before you knew it you were spending so much time with Pedri, you were surprised no one else had picked up on it.

“What do you tell your teammates when they ask where you go?” you questioned, sitting beside him in the empty conference room as you shoveled yogurt into your mouth on a random Friday afternoon.

“I say that I’m talking to my mom.” he admits.

You laugh out loud, reaching over to hit his shoulder, “No way haha. They believe that?”

Pedri rubbed the spot where you hit him, pretending it hurt, “Well they’ve never questioned it.”

“Aww but doesn’t Gavi miss you?” You asked, making a kissy face with your lips, purposely trying to annoy him.

He groaned at your antics, pushing your legs that were rested on his lap away, “Oh fuck off. You know there isn’t anything going on.”

You giggled. Recently someone had started a rumor on the internet that Pedri and Gavi were madly in love and once you had caught wind of it you had brought it up every chance you could, never getting enough of Pedri’s angry face, which in all honesty did not look even the slightest bit intimidating.

“Can’t say the same for us.” Pedri spoke, effectively cutting off your giggles.

You straightened in your seat, “What?”

“Oh c’mon you clearly have a thing for me.” He spoke again.

This time you fully sat up. While it may have been true that you were harboring the slightest, and i mean the slightest of slight, feelings for Pedri, there was no way anyone was ever getting that out of you unless you were literally chained to a wall fighting for you life.

Maybe not even then.

“Not even a chance.” You huffed looking at him as he grinned back at you.

He leaned over, hands finding their way to your shoulders as he squeezed, “Awh c’mon Y/N you’re telling me you don’t even have the tiniest of feelings for me.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, “Why so curious? You got a crush on me or something?”

Now it was his turn to shrink away.

“What? No, of course not.”

“Then why are we talking about this?”

“Whatever.”

You peaked at him through the corner of your eye, you couldn’t tell if you were imagining it or not but you swore you saw the smallest tint of pink on his cheeks.

You were right, he definitely had a crush on you. That all led you to your current position now, where you and Pedri had been dating in secret for 6 months, not wanting to risk telling anyone and you losing your job, since it was against company policy for employees to date when there was a power difference, which in this case there was since Pedri was a player and you were an intern.

Debating it over in your head, you decided to go and just get it over with. You just hoped you and Pedri would be able to keep it undercover.

You both failed. Miserably. Throughout the shoot you kept feeling Pedri’s eyes on you when they shouldn’t have been. For example, when your manager was explaining the rules of the game behind the camera, you could feel Pedri’s gaze directed towards you, and when you turned to look at him, he gave you a smile that made your insides melt.

It had been just over a week since the two of you had last seen each other, with the team going off to compete in a different city for La Liga, and you staying back to keep up with work at home base. You weren’t even able to Facetime as there was never a time where both of you where free or away from everyone else.

You had missed him a lot, and it seemed he had missed you just as much.

“Ok so do you two understand the rules?” Your manager asked.

You gave him a thumbs up before turning to Pedri.

You both walked over to the water bottles, reaching down to collect them. With your backs turned to the camera, Pedri leaned over and whispered,

“I missed you this week. Wish you were with me.”

You sighed, glancing over at him, “Me too.”

You both parted before you could say anything else, standing opposite to each other after being handed flour tortillas.

“Ok so just try to hit each other with the tortilla’s and we’ll be good.”

You had a mouth full of water as you tried to communicate with Pedri about who should go first. The boy stared at you with a confused look.

You started doing the motions of rock, paper, scissors, and finally he understood.

You won, and started moving closer to Pedri with the tortilla raised as he kept moving backwards.

You had to choke back a laugh as he almost tripped over a lighting wire, turning your body away from him and closing your eyes so you wouldn’t have to see the look on his face.

You urged him back towards you, and he took hesitant steps forward.

You pretended to be surprised, and looked at something over his shoulder pointing for him to look.

Stupid boy. Literally the most classic trick in the book.

As he was mid turn you slapped him with the tortilla on his cheek, the noise of water sprurting out of his mouth and silence that followed after sending you into hysterics.

The water spilled out of your mouth as you laughed, “Oh my god, I can’t believe you fell for that!”

Pedri glared at you before giving you a light push as you leaned over trying to catch your breath.

“This is what I get for trusting you.”

You stood back up, tapping his cheek empathetically, “You’ll survive.”

He pulled your hand away from his face, but let his hand rest in yours for a second too long before he dropped it.

“I’ll get you back for that.” He warned once again taking his position across from you.

You smiled sweetly at him, “I’d like to see you try.”

The game went on like that for another 2 rounds before your manager called it quits saying that there was enough footage to post.

You were drenched from head to toe when he had finally called cut, and you had a disgusted look on your face. During the last round, Pedri had purposely lost and spit water all of your face.

You had shrieked jumping away from him, but he grabbed your wrists trapping you from getting too far as he drenched you.

“Pedri Ew! So gross!” You groaned once he finished giving you a mini shower.

He gave you a cheeky smile, “Told you I would get you back.”

You rolled your eyes turning to face the camera, “Can we be done yet?”

Your manager laughed behind the camera, “All good.”

You smiled once more at the camera before saying bye and letting Pedri finish off the video.

Once everything had wrapped and you had dried yourself, Pedri came over to you.

“That was fun!”

You groaned, walking alongside him as you made your way to your cars, “For you maybe.”

“Oh c’mon Y/N, don’t be a sore loser.” He retorted, bumping your shoulder with his.

“I didn’t even lose!” You exclaimed.

Pedri’s eyes twinkled at he looked at you, “That’s not the way I remember it at all.”

“Then you must have amnesia.”

He laughed at your comment, “You know what would probably cure it?”

“Hmm?”

“Some kisses.”

You once again rolled your eyes at Pedri’s cheesy words, but felt your self smile regardless.

“Fine, but you get nothing if I beat you to your car.” You shouted already taking off in a sprint.

You heard Pedri yell after you before he started chasing you, “Not fair!”

You laughed to yourself, feeling so grateful that you had found someone who was just like you.

#pedri #pedri imagine #pedri imagines #pedri headcanon #pedro gonzalez #pedro gonzalez imagine #fc barça #barcelona #pedri angst #pedri fluff #pedri x reader #pedri one shot #football #football imagine #pedriimagine #pedrioneshot #gaviimagine #pablo gavi

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dc418writes · 3 months

Text

✨Pairing✨: NFL!Ari Levinsonxblack!reader

Summary🪄: Your brother has the worst timing

🚨: allusions to past happy adult fun times, mention of nudity (brief), mention of parent death, pretty much all floofy hilarity

🎤: an early Valentine’s Day-esque fic based off an idea I recently had. Hope you guys like it☺️!

*DISCLAIMER!: although visual made by me via Canva, I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were all found via Pinterest*

“What are you doing here?,” you ask locking the door after your brother casually saunters in. Unannounced and uninvited you might add

“Wanted to treat you for Valentine’s Day,” he answers. A slight tilt to his brow - looking every bit like your father - from your unusual greeting. “Sup with you? Why’re you acting weird?”

“N-Nothing I just wasn’t expecting you. Plus you typically call first and let me know you’re in town.” Which would’ve been very useful right about now.

“I wanted to surprise you. Plus I knew you wouldn’t be doing anything.” Rude.

Arms outstretched, he flops back on your light pink sectional making himself comfortable as if it were his own home. His wide smile instantly twisting into a smirk noticing the bouquet of mixed flowers along with a yellow duckling plushy leaning against the clear vase. Luckily you're able to grab the notecard before he can prompting that eyebrow tilt again

"Who're those from?"

You nonchalantly shrug your shoulders, "A friend.”

"This friend got a name?"

"Marshall I don't come in your place being nosey," you sigh feeling yourself becoming increasingly annoyed. "And you haven't been doing anything for Valentine's Day, so why now?"

The mood between you visibly shifts from the drop of his playful smile to something more serious. Regretful even.

"...Since dad passed, I uh..realized how we really don't know when our last day is you know?," he explains slowly rubbing his hands together. His eyes focused on them as a way to help clearly put his plaguing thoughts into words. "I just don't want something to happen to you or ma and I have all these regrets about what I didn't say. How I could've done more."

When his gentle eyes - doe like and dark brown - finally look up to meet yours, an instant warmth mixed with sorrow fills your chest and strikes deep in your heart. At the reminder of your father’s sudden passing and hearing your twin be so vulnerable.

Since college, it was pretty much football 24/7 with Marshall. Training to be the best and improving in any and every area so he could eventually make it big. Now in the NFL, there wasn't much change. If anything it got a bit worse now having to keep up with public appearances and meet with press here and there. Needless to say, you figured you and your parents rarely crossed his mind besides for the occasional, and rare, check-ins

To hear his worries, it sends a pang of guilt from the pit of your gut and throughout your abdomen

“Marshall,” you quietly speak taking a step towards him before a thud startles you both.

"The hell was that?,” he asks.

"Probably the neighbors kids,” you answer with a wave of your hand as if it were nothing. “They play around a lot."

Another thud followed by an “ow”, has your brother standing to his feet ready to investigate. "That sounded like it was in here though."

"Well you know they make these walls thin. Plus it doesn’t help their room is right next to mine," you nervously giggle. Actually it was the bathroom sharing a wall with you, but he didn't need to know that. “I’m gonna go ahead and get changed. Meet you in the car?”

“Uh..yea sure.” You know he’s still suspicious from his hesitation. Taking one last look towards your bedroom - where he could swear the noise directly came from - then at you flashing your most innocent smile, he strides from your living room and to your door. “Aye try not to take so long. I wanna get there before I’m 60.”

Rolling your eyes, you just nudge his chest - well try to at least - urging him past the threshold and choosing to ignore his little jab as he chuckles on the other side.

“What’d he want?”

Turning your head, you’re equal parts annoyed and flustered seeing Ari - your boyfriend not boyfriend? - standing in the doorway of your bedroom naked as the day he arrived on Earth. His sun kissed skin, smooth and toned, with dark hair sprinkled along his strong and defined pecs, arms, and legs. Being a linebacker for the NFL, you wouldn’t expect anything less than the gladiator physique

“He wants to take me out for Valentine’s Day. And what was that? You promised you’d stay quiet.”

“I’m sorry somebody threw my shirt behind the bed,” he retorts rubbing the back of his head with a wince checking to make sure no blood was left on his fingers

“Get mad at yourself then. That was your doing when you took it off me in the middle of the night.”

A smirk forms on his pretty lips remembering that exact moment. You lying peacefully on your side throughly exhausted from your earlier rounds. Lips pouted as your even breaths fanned across his arm under your head.

With your backside positioned right in front of his crotch, he just couldn’t help letting his large hands wander and mouth attack your neck and shoulder. Feeling you push back on him amid your tired groan, he silently chuckled before his shirt on you was gone and moans were filling the room again.

“Oh yea,” he chuckles biting his lip. “Definitely should do that again when we get back.”

“Ari I’m going with Marshall,” you say gently brushing past him for your closet to find something to wear.

“I was here first though.” Even with your back to him you can clearly see his toddler like pout. How his thick arms are more than likely now crossed on his chest. And you can’t lie, the adorable reaction makes you want to stay to make him happy again.

When did you turn so soft for him?

“But he’s my brother,” you call over your shoulder as you scan through your dresses. “I’m not gonna say no if he wants to spend time with me.” Ari knew he couldn’t get too upset at that, but that didn’t stop the small ache at his ruined plans.

“Plus I uh thought dinner last night was it?”

“That was the main plan, but I dunno..was open to see where it went,” he mumbles towards the end with a shrug. At his slightly defeated tone, you turn around unfamiliar with this side of him. Since your first meeting, he maintained that confident and uncaring attitude he carried on the field

Some might even call it arrogance how he paraded around with chest puffed and that signature tilted smile

Stepping towards him - a dress in each hand - you give him a sympathetic smile wanting to hold him but restraining yourself

“Maybe we can do something tomorrow? Or later this week,” you suggest.

His tongue clicks against his cheek. “I’m busy this week. Maybe you could come to my game for once..?”

Ari’s playful, blue eyes and finger tapping under your chin makes you softly giggle. “You know I can’t.”

“No one would know who you’re there for. Just a fan lucky enough to get in a suite.”

“Or someone wonders why Marshall’s sister is there,” you counter. He simply tilts his head back and forth. There goes that hint of disappointment again. “One day though.”

A fraction of that brilliant smile returns on his lips making you feel somewhat better. “One day,” he begrudgingly agrees before his gaze drifts to the dresses in your hands. He goes back and forth for a moment before pointing to the shortsleeved, burgundy knee length dress in your left hand

“This one. And take your black sweater. The long one you usually wear because you know you’re gonna get cold.”

Your stomach flutters as a shy, “thank you” leaves your lips and his soon press against yours. Softly at first, but then moving together how they were last night - and many times before then. So passionate and needy until you’re both left breathless yet still craving more

“Get dressed. He’ll be calling soon,” Ari says leaving one final peck on the corner of your tingly mouth. “I can use the spare to lock up.”

Then that guilty feeling returns. The same one that you’ve tried ignoring the past few times you’ve hung out with him, but just couldn’t shake immediately thinking of your brother. How you’re slowly yet surely falling for his rival

#ari levinson #ari levinson x black!reader #ari levinson au #ari levinson x woc #ari levinson x reader #red sea diving resort #chris evans #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x woc!reader

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shellshocklove · 9 months

Text

blurb: i want to forget | tom holland

pairing/AU: university AU - modern king!tom holland x female!reader

summary: your last encounter with the King has left you in quite the pickle.

warnings: swearing, mentions of vomiting, abortion, blood

word count: 3.5k

a/n: this is the last post-epilogue blurb. this is their ending. it makes me really happy that people have enjoyed this story so much. like beyond happy:( i’m still open to do blurbs pre-epilogue for them, but i’ll only do them if i get a request. if not this will be the last thing i write for them. also full disclosure: i’m not british, which means idk if this is accurate portrayal of a british school. so, if it’s not, then please excuse that lmao

series masterlist

You’re so fucking stupid.

So incredibly stupid.

A cold crept up your back as you leaned against the tiled wall of your bathroom. Squeezing your eyes shut you tried to stave off the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

You shouldn’t have gone to the reunion. But when The Vice-Chancellor of your old university calls you personally, basically begging you to attend – what were you supposed to do? And you definitely shouldn’t have drunk so much wine, but the servers kept pouring it, and every time you’d looked at Tom, he’d looked a little rosier.

You missed him. Missed him every day. The painful look on his face as you’d left the palace, right after he became king, haunted you every day. You hated being the one to hurt him. But he hurt you, too.

Why did he have to want to see you? Make someone else beg you to be there. And why did you say yes? Why did you need to see him just as badly?

“Soo,” Tom had started, digging into his scallop entrée, “how’s life?”.

You’d giggled in response, sending him a ‘Are you serious right now?’ look, before taking a bite of your own entrée.

“What?” he’d faked innocence, “I’m only making conversation– can’t I do that?” he’d shrugged.

You’d giggled again, “No, you can”. You took another bite, buying yourself some time before you’d answered, “Life’s good, I guess? No complaints at this point in time”. Except the constant longing for someone you can’t have.

“At this point in time? So… there was a time where you had complaints?” he’d queried, with a worried kink in his eyebrow.

“Don’t we all have difficult periods in our life?” you’d mused, trying to keep your face from revealing too much. He didn’t need to know how heartbroken you’d been after his wedding. He’d moved on… and so should you.

“Yeah…” he’d agreed, eyes drilling into his plate, “we do”.

You’d felt your body fall at his tone. He’d given you a rare peek into his psyche. A look into a beaten king.

“What about you?” you’d asked softly, “You doing okay?”. You’d wanted to reach out and touch him, comfort him, but you didn’t.

A weak smile spread across his face before he’d nodded, “Yeah… I’m fine” he’d said unconvincingly. Then he’d cleared his throat changing the topic before the conversation got too personal,

“Are you still working at that primary school?”.

“No,” you’d shook your head, “I teach sixth form now– history A-levels”.

“Really?” he’d perked up, a smile ghosting over his face.

“Yeah,” you’d chuckled, “shaping the future or whatever”.

“Good for you, darling!” he’d smiled with moony eyes, “Do you like it?”.

“I actually do– teenagers can be…” you’d given him a look which made him laugh, “but the pay is better, and maybe it’s silly, but I really feel like I’m making a difference!”.

“It’s not silly– you’re not silly” he’d reassured you.

You’d felt your heart swell in your chest and grow two sizes. He had to stop doing that to you. You shouldn’t be pining for a married man.

“Well…” you’d started, tongue kissing your teeth, “We can’t all be kings and run multiple charities” you’d shrugged, teasing.

Your words made him giggle, before he’d shot you a teasing side eye.

You hated how easy you’d gotten swept up in conversation with Tom. How easy it was to forget everything around you. The world blurring at the edges like a vignette, as Tom took centrefold in your life again.

It had felt like it did all those years ago. An ease between you, one you’ve never felt with anyone else. He pulled away all your restraints – and you let him. How could you not? When his touch felt like buzzing electricity against your skin. And his kiss burned your lips with longing. Everything felt right with him. Every worry, and all guilt went quiet.

And you hated yourself for it. It was eating away at you. Growing inside of you alongside something else.

Two lines. Pregnant.

You couldn’t even look at the test. It only made you want to cry. You were pregnant with the King of England’s baby. How could you be so stupid?

You couldn’t stop the scenarios from flashing behind your eyes. Tom standing over a crib, a loving smile on his face as he watched over your sleeping baby. Or Tom with his hands reaching out to your toddler taking their first wobbling steps towards him. Birthday parties and first days of school. Holidays and road trips. Fights, and first loves and first heartbreaks. Growing your family and growing old together.

Wrapping your hands around your stomach you allowed a sob to escape you, echoing against the tiles.

“Love? You feeling okay? You look a little green” Mr. Khan asked you as he plopped down beside you in the corner sofa of the teacher’s lounge.

“I feel a little green” you admitted and sunk deeper into the pillows.

Morning sickness, you’d realised, had been wrongly named. It should’ve just been called sickness because that’s how you felt all the time. Sick. Morning, day, and night.

If your calculations were right, you were only about two months along. To have it confirmed, you had a doctor’s appointment later, after your last class of the day. You didn’t look forward to it. You obviously needed an abortion, sooner rather than later, but it was an awfully hard decision to make.

Maybe it serves you right to suffer. This was the consequences of your actions. Of being the other woman.

In a way, you wanted and didn’t want Tom to know. He should know about his baby, his child – it’s only right he knows. But… how would he react? Would he be happy? Sad? Angry? Would he blame you for being irresponsible? Would he blame himself? Your head and heart hurt thinking about it. But the choice was taken from you, and from him. You had no way of contacting him. No phone number, no email, nothing.

“Want me to get you anything?” Rhys asked, rubbing a friendly hand on your shoulder, “I could get you a Coke from the machine?”.

“That would be great– thank you Rhys!” you smiled weakly.

Mr. Rhys Khan, maths teacher, and probably your best friend at work (or maybe just your only friend. You didn’t go out much). He was only two years older than you, which made him easy for you to gravitate too when you’d started working here a year ago. The rest of the staff was pushing fifty, and sometimes it was nice to speak to someone who wasn’t a moody teenager, or a middle-aged man educating you on proper lawn maintenance. You didn’t even own a house. Only renting a shitty flat, in what would probably be classified as a not so good neighbourhood. Rhys was a welcomed sight, and it didn’t hurt that he was funny, and kind, and… good looking.

“Here you go M'lady” he cracked open the can for you, “One of our finest Cokes straight from our cellar”.

You didn’t think you had it in you to laugh in your state, but you did. He handed you the can and sat down beside you again. He watched you as you took a small sip.

“Better?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.

“After one sip?”

“Yeah! I cast a spell over it on my way back– it’s supposed to make you feel better in an instant” he said.

“Thank you, Rhys!” you gave him a meek, but grateful smile before taking another sip. His hand came down to rub at your shoulder again.

“Are you sure you’re okay though? As beautiful as you are, you really don’t look well” he said, concern coating his words.

You didn’t have time to answer – your words cut off by the headmaster, Mr. White, entering the teacher’s lounge with a booming voice.

“Thank you all for coming to this lunch meeting!” he clapped his hands, making sure to get everybody’s attention. “I’m gonna keep it short and sweet, ok guys!? I know we all have lunches to eat, and emails to reply to, and classes to prepare.”.

This man was too enthusiastic for his own good.

“I have an announcement!” he said solemnly. Pressing his lips together you didn’t know if he wanted to create suspense – he didn’t – or if he was psyching himself up to deliver bad news.

“I’ve called this meeting to inform you all that next week we’ll be visited by the King and Queen!”

The news sunk like a stone in water. You were gonna be sick. Nervously you shifted forward in your seat. A hand wrapping around your waist, as the other held your Coke can in a shaky grip.

“They’re here with their charity– who we all know contributes funds to our school. There will be press, and the royal couple wants to visit every class– so let’s all make sure that we’ve prepared our pupils for the visit, before then. I will be sending out an email with more information, and don’t hesitate to reach out if you have any questions! That was it guys! Let’s get back to our lunch!”.

You flinched as Mr. White clapped his hands again – signalling all his staff to get back to work. Rhys rubbed your back soothingly. Unaware of your panicked heart.

You were definitely going to be sick.

“Good morning, everybody!” your voice cut through the steady hum of conversation filling the classroom.

You got a few ‘good morning’s back from your pupils, which you honestly looked at as a win. Some days you didn’t even get a ‘hello’. But it was early, and they were teenagers – when you looked back at yourself at seventeen – you were glad you’d never be seventeen again. So, you gave them a pass.

As your pupils settled in their seats you got your computer ready with today’s PowerPoint.

“As you all know,” you started, taking a deep breath, “We have some very special guests coming later. A royal visit. That means that the rest of the day will be a little different, and after lunch you’re all free to go home”.

The promise of school being out, got a few cheers. It made you chuckle before you clicked to the next slide on your presentation, showing the plan for the day.

“We started working through our curriculum on the British monarchy a few weeks ago, you guys remember we talked about Queen Victoria last week?” you got a few nods.

“Anyone remember how long her reign was?” you asked, looking at your half-asleep pupils.

In the front, a hand shot up in the air. It was Louis. He was kind of a history nerd, and your most devoted pupil. He got picked on by the others a lot and you tried your best to look out for him a little extra.

“Yes, Louis?”

“Sixty-three years, seven months and two days” he answered dutifully.

In the back of the classroom, you heard a snicker. You decided to ignore it for now.

“That’s right, Louis! And her reign is known as the Victorian era. She became queen when she was very young! She was only eighteen years old– can you guys imagine that? She was only a year older than you are now. She has that in common with our king– King Thomas. He was only twenty-four when he became king” you tried to keep your face neutral when you talked about him, but it was hard. It felt weird talking about him like you didn’t know him, not when you were carrying his baby in your belly.

“Ms. y/l/n” a hand shot up in the back. It was Fatima.

“Yes, Fatima?”

“Why do we need to be visited by the king and queen? They’re colonisers and I don’t understand why we’re celebrating them!?” she said.

“That’s very true, Fatima! Great point– and we’ll be talking more about this topic next week…” you paused for a second before you continued, “To be completely honest with you– the reason they’re here today is because one of their charities supports our school. It’s because of money, like so much else in this world. I understand your concern– I really do, but there’s nothing I can do about it unfortunately”.

“So, even if we don’t want to meet them– we have to?” she countered.

You stepped around your desk to lean against it. “I’m not gonna force you to do anything– I completely understand wanting to not meet them” you understood more than anything actually, “but I can’t promise the same from Mr. White” you gave her a beaten smile.

“That is such bullshit!” she said.

You stepped back behind your desk, “That is very true, Fatima!”.

You continued going through the plan for the day, trying your best to tie what you’d already talked about, about the British monarchy, into Tom and the modern monarchy. You quickly went through the etiquette of meeting a member of the royal family (this was extremely important that you go through, according to Mr. White).

“The King and Queen will be arriving soon,” you glanced quickly at the clock over the door, “then we’ll all gather in the auditorium where the King will be holding a speech, and then after that we’ll all go back here, and they’ll visit each class. I’m not sure what they’ll do– but I’m guessing they’ll greet you all, and ask you guys a few questions, and maybe answer some if you have them. After that you can all go home for the day. That sound alright?” you finished.

You got a few nods.

“Okay, then– let’s clean up in here and walk together to the auditorium”

Leaning back against the wall, standing on the stairs of your school’s auditorium, reality hit you.

Your stomach actually hurt. Nerves travelled through you like electricity all the way to your fingertips. You were sure that if you were unlucky enough, you’d meet the eyes of Queen Genevieve, and she’d know what you’d done. Scared you’d look like a guilty puppy after being caught making a mess.

“You excited?” Mr. Khan said over your shoulder, startling you. He stood on the step above you with a wide grin, teeth bared, as you turned to look at him over your shoulder.

“Would it be treason to say no?” you whispered in his ear.

He laughed, barely noticeable over the high-volumed conversation, “Probably!”.

“What did you say your dad called the monarchy again?” he asked, leaning back against the wall like you did.

“A fascist regime” you recalled, “After the Sex–”.

He cut you off, remembering with a nod, “After the Sex Pistols song”.

“God,” he started, “I would’ve loved to see King Thomas’ face if you told him that” he laughed.

You felt your body freeze to ice at his words. “Wh–What do you mean?” you stuttered out.

“Later, when they’re visiting our classrooms– how do you think he’d react if you told him that” he continued laughing.

Letting out a nervous chuckle, you said “Oh… I don’t know– maybe he’d find it refreshing to hear?”.

A memory flicked before your eyes for a second. You and Tom in your room – when he’d visited your flat for the first time. The night you had your first kiss. You knew for a fact he found it refreshing. It was the reason he’d kissed you. You didn’t dare linger on that memory too long. It made your stomach hurt even more. A sharp stabbing pain, moving from your front to your lower back.

It made you wince, and Rhys noticed.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, concern coating his tongue.

“Nothing,” you shook your head, “I–I just have a stomach ache” you explained.

“Again? You need to get that checked out, love!”.

You gave him a meek smile. Maybe you should tell him you were pregnant. It wouldn’t matter either way if he knew – you had the date for your abortion scheduled already.

“Settle down, settle down– LIAM! SIT DOWN!” you heard the voice of one of your colleagues. You pushed yourself off the wall, sending Rhys a sorry smile for having your conversation cut short before you joined your colleagues in quieting down your pupils.

A moment later, your heart stopped as you watched him walk through the auditorium door, with his wife on his arm. Beside them, they were escorted by the headmaster Mr. White. The room went quiet immediately.

You leaned back against the wall again beside Rhys, trying to steady yourself. Tom looked as handsome as ever, and you ached. That wound in your heart ripped open again. Instinctively, a hand came down to rest over your belly, soothing both yourself and your baby.

Dragging your eyes away from him, they landed on his wife, Queen Genevieve. She looked stunning. Her hair was perfectly curled, bouncing with every step she took. Her make-up was smooth and spotless. She was wearing the most beautiful dress that fit her perfectly. You couldn’t help but wonder what he’d ever seen in you. He’s married to the most perfect woman in the world. Her smile shone like diamonds as she waved to the pupils.

Mr. White escorted them to the front row, where two seats had been picked out just for them. Carefully, Tom helped Queen Genevieve sit. He treated her like she was made of glass, asking her if she was okay, if you read his lips correctly. After her affirmative nod, he stood up straighter and gave a wave to the audience before Mr. White led him up the stairs to the stage.

He waved again as he walked with sure steps to the middle of the stage. He was clad in a light grey suit, still clinging to the end of summer. Slipping a hand inside his jacket, he fished out a stack of cards. He looked happy. His smile pearly white, eyes crinkling.

Another sharp pain stabbed you.

You couldn’t look at him as he started his speech. His voice echoed through the room, but you felt so far away. You pressed your hand a little harder to your belly. You couldn’t hear a single word he said, just his familiar voice. It used to be calming, and it still was. But now guilt bit its sharp teeth in you.

Another sharp pain knifed your lower half, twisting its way to your lower back. Involuntarily, you hunched forward, clinging to yourself.

“y/n? Love?” Rhys whispered beside you, a comforting hand coming down to rest against your back, “What’s going on?”.

He sounded worried – which made you worried.

The pain came with quicker intervals, and you started to find it hard to breathe. Panic washed over you. Hand tightening around yourself, both trying to keep yourself standing upright, but also helping you cling to the reality of the situation.

A tear rolled down your cheek, but not from the pain.

Gathering all your strength you turned your head to look at Tom. Maybe it was a coincidence, or maybe, somehow, he understood what was happening. His eyes locked with yours in that exact moment.

He stumbled over his words. A mixture of happy recognition, and sadness flicking over his face, which then turned to concern. You shook your head. You don’t know at what. To tell him you’re okay, and not to worry? To tell him that it was over? To tell him your baby is dead?

“y/n!” it was Rhys in your ear, his voice erratic, “You have blood coming down your legs”.

“I–I think I’m having a miscarriage” you stuttered.

He looked at you like his eyes were about to pop out of his skull. Then he started nodding. Like he was coming up with a plan in his head. He didn’t say a word, only wrapped an arm around you to help you down the stairs. One step at a time.

You felt Tom’s eyes on you, as he struggled through the rest of his speech. Thankfully the lights were dimmed enough to make your shaky exit nothing but an annoying stain in the audience’s side vision.

That was the worst day of your life. And the last time you saw Tom in person. Rhys took you to the emergency room where they confirmed your suspicions. You were having a miscarriage. The rest of the day was like a black hole in your memory, and you were glad. You wanted to forget. The only thing you remembered was Rhys. He never left your side – not even once.

You managed to get the rest of the week off work, both to recover and to mourn. It was strange. Mourning someone you’d already decided not to have.

On the day you’d had your abortion scheduled, flowers got delivered to your flat. It was a big bouquet of white roses. It came with a card. Only two words were spelled out in a handwriting you recognized right away.

“I’m sorry

- T”

You didn’t know what he was apologising for, at the time. For falling in love with you? For getting you pregnant? For your loss? But how could he even know about your loss, and his.

Your answer came a couple of weeks later. A simple news push-notification on your phone.

“ROYAL BABY!” it read.

previous: the reunion |

tags (tagging the i want to forget taglist and a few other people that have shown interest after it was finished): @justapurrcat, @lnmp89, @petrspideyparker, @hollandweather, @userholland, @imawhoreforu, @onepieceya, @sparklingsin, @annathesillyfriend, @mayal0pez, @transparentpsychicempathkid, @fic-rewind, @spideysmb, @the-unknown-fan-girl, @mannien, @moonlightdotmp3, @padlockedhearts, @moniffazictress11, @all4koo, @angelayse, @svechnibrock, @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx, @xxtomspideyxx, @i83andrew, @clockblobber, @fangirlinggalore, @luciwritesstuff, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @lol-just-kidding002, @allywthsr, @captainsbestgal, @readheadwriter, @parkersdahlia, @cosmicryuz, @tomxxxhollandxxx, @the-not-so-silent-back-up, @rebloggingtheficsilove, @peterdarlingg, @obsessedprincess, @alltoowelltom, @hey-im-bored504, @storybookholland, @sadisticsongbird, @prettyjendeukie, @marsbars09, @mixedfandxms, @ahalliwell5, @t-lostinworlds

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