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#but a bigger part of it is that i just don’t like the direction they took them in
stargirldelight · 8 months
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• When you pick up on their bad habits •
Headcanons | Zoro, Sanji, Law | Part 1
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• Part 1 • Part 2 •
• C.W: Fluffy sfw crack, just some silly little thoughts i've been having. Jealous n’ helpless Sanji, perv reader with Sanji and Zoro lol, mentions of drinking, choking if thoust squint, shy guy zoro is my favorite, Law is just such a sweetie, so much fl-oveff for him (get it, fluff and love please laugh)
• A.N: Part two with my loves Kidd, Shanks, Benn.
Likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated :)
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• Zoro • drinking~
Dating him automatically meant you do everything together, training, napping all of it…even drinking as excessively as he does.
He loves that he has a drinking buddy, nothing better than downing a thing of sake with his loveliest y/n. 
He's greedy when it comes to drinking, we all know mans does not share!
But one thing he absolutely LOVES doing is taking a sip of his own drink, then pouring the substance through your lips, lightly gripping the base of your neck.
It’s all fun and games for a while…
That is, until you become quite the annoying drunk.
“Zorooo…what color panties are you wearing?” You slur, tugging at the waistband of his trunks as he spits out anything and everything in his mouth. 
“WHAT ARE YOU, BROOK?!?” he shouts all flustered, scrambling away from your touch on his pants.
“Heh…are they red like your face?” you press further poking his cheek, crawling closer to him as he hit a wall. 
Metaphorically and physically.
“O-OIII STOP THA-”
Safe to say he will NOT be drinking with you again.
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• Sanji • obsessive flirting~
Yes, there's a reason I didn't choose smoking for him.
It was a joke, at first. 
“How would you like it if I flirt with other men!?!” you shout and his legs instantly give out under him, wrapping his arms around yours. 
“Please don’t, I'm sorry! I won't ever look into the eyes of a woman again!” he pleads with you, tugging on the bottom of your skirt.
All while you get…ideas. 
Of course he wasn't gonna let up his romantic tactics with other women.
So what's the best way to get him to stop? If you did the same.
You gotta admit, hyper-flirting with randoms was fun, you see why he liked it.
You two were swinging by shops when he spots a beautiful woman and acts a fool as always.
“Ahhh mademoiselle~” he coos, as his unfortunate victim speeds up her pace.
You roll your eyes and spot a rather delicious looking street shopkeeper.
“Your eyes are just beautiful sir, I can get lost in them.” you admire him, fingers aligning under his flushed cheeks.
You pull him close when his face is met hard with sleek dress shoes you recognized to be your lovers.
“Don’t even think about it.” he says agitated, peering down at the unconscious man through narrow eyes.
You scoff and walk away. “Please, my beloved angel, forgive me!!” he skips behind you with tears streaming down his face.
At the end of the day, you become the bigger pervert of the two.
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• Law • working late~
This man doesn't even notice, always so damn busy.
If anything he was probably grateful for the silence.
However, that only lasted till he gained a bit of free time for himself, opting to spend it with you when…
“Bepo, where's Y/n?” He practically searched the entire polar tang to no avail. 
“I dunno, I haven't seen her since…” He scratches his furry chin, growing increasingly worried.
“...Since we left the bookstore on that one island…”
“DID WE LEAVE Y/N?!?” The poor bear panics, running to the navigation “I-i’m so sorry captain!” he profusely apologizes, steering the submarine in a backwards direction.
Bookstore? He wondered, walking back to his room.
Descending the last step of the stairs, he spots something out of the corner of his eye.
How cute.
He found you laying in an awkward position against the wall, a book splayed on the floor beside you, scattered papers in your surrounds. 
He carries you bridal style towards your shared room, planting a small kiss on your cheek.
“I’m sorry I've been ignoring you, Y/n-ya.”
He makes a note not to work so much anymore so as to have more time to spend with you.
He wouldn’t tell Bepo you were found either, fueling the idea of working together.
He’ll buy you all the books in the world if it means you two can spend time together that way.
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miinatozakiii · 2 months
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tutor perks
park jihyo x fem!reader ; fluff, smut ; pt. 2
synopsis: the kid you’re tutoring has a really sweet, charming hot aunt.
warnings: alcohol ; not proofread so many spelling and grammatical errors (probably) ; mmm smut ; smut; and smut ; praise ; overstimulation ; almost fucking in the fancy bathroom ; reader ruined by jihyo ; men mentioned yuck!! ; food ; jihyo is like seven years older than reader ; mmm anything else i’ve missed ; physics mentioned 😵‍💫
a/n: i need her so bad like
(um ALSO i wrote half of this on my phone (that era was...))
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you’re assigned to tutor a high school student, some junior boy named matthew park that’s falling behind in a couple of subjects. the lady at the front office had provided you directions to the library, but still, it took you a few wrong turns and another ask to actually get there. 
walking in, you notice the lively yet quiet ambiance filling the room. there are groups of students studying together, giggling and pushing each other around as they do so. another group seems to be much more focused than the others, all furrowing their brows while examining whatever paper is on the table. 
you scan the room and look for a guy who should be alone, and to the right, you spot just that. 
he’s hunched over a little and his eyes are glued to the phone in his right hand while he spins a pencil with the other hand. the guy has on a green crewneck sweater and the headphones he wears squish some of his dark hair, which is parted messily in the middle. you tap on his desk subtly—he looks up with raised brows and takes off his headphones. 
you shoot a friendly smile and begin to speak, “hi, are you—“ 
“matthew, yeah.” he interrupts, “matt is fine.” 
his voice is pretty low, and something about his energy and mannerisms tell you that he’s some type of athlete. he runs a hand through his hair as you sit down next to him and fixes his posture. at least he has some manners, unlike the type of athletes you had to deal with a few years ago. 
“i’m y/n, it’s nice to meet you.” you greet, sticking out your hand—which matt takes—and shaking his bigger, rougher one.  
you clear your throat and look at the slightly creased notes on the table accompanied by the spiral notebook and green folder. setting down your own bag on the floor, you ask, “so, what is it that you’re struggling with the most?” 
matt glances at the entrance for a brief moment then looks down at the work in front of him and clenches his jaw, crossing his arms.  
“physics and precalculus.” he simply says, his voice seeming small and ashamed. you glance over towards where he was before, catching a group of five teenagers—all seemingly athletic from the apparel they wear—and start to catch onto his sudden bashful demeanor. 
“alright, i can help you with that.” you assure, “i’ll try to make this quick and do the best i can to help, just let me know what you want me to explain.” 
matt nods, picking up the pencil and huffing. 
after tutoring math and reliving your high school physics trauma, you’re headed out the entrance of the library and trying to find your way to the main doors.  
“wait!” a voice calls out, “y/n, was it?”  
turning around, you stand a few feet away from matt, whose headphones are resting around his neck comfortably. he rubs his neck and then pinches the bridge of his nose before shutting his eyes tightly. 
you tilt your head, wondering what this boy needs; was it some extra notes or help? 
“yes?” 
“i um,” he begins, tensing his jaw and shaking his head. “i don’t know if this is appropriate to ask you since you’re a tutor—and i swear i’m not hitting on you!” he catches himself, groaning after he speaks. “i just, don’t want to be seen getting tutored, it’s embarrassing because i’m… i’m not doing well academically right now.” 
“matt, it’s okay, don’t feel—” 
“stop,” he says bluntly. “look, you were probably in my place a couple of years ago or something, i don’t know. just, i don’t like being seen like this because i used to be better, but my professors and everything…” 
“i get that, we can work it out! i was actually really good at physics and i know how bad it can be, i was there and precalculus is pretty simple to me.” 
“yes and thank you, i just wanted to ask if we could change locations. somewhere that’s not where i go to school.” 
“where were you thinking matt?” you ask, quirking a brow and ignoring the little buzz from your phone that’s in your pocket. 
he sighs and repeats, “before i ask; i’m not hitting on you, i swear to god.”  
“matt if you’re insisting some type of café i’m fine with that, people study there all the-“ 
“no, i’d be recognized there too.” he mumbles. “can you just come over to my house? i’ll even have my aunt texting you to say it’s okay, i don’t know if you need that confirmation or whatever, i mean, i’m a minor and i get that it might be iffy.” 
“oh, i see.” you mutter in response. “i mean, we can do that, just have your aunt text me, yeah?” 
“okay.” he responds, “can we do this thursday? i have a physics test on friday.” 
“that’s fine, i’ll do my best to help you out matt.” 
he smiles gratefully. “thank you y/n.”  
-- 
once you’re out of your car after parking near the curb across the street, you get a real good view of matt’s house and damn, the place is nice. 
it’s pretty big and modern, but not too modern that it’s uncomfortable, it just stands out. 
you walk down the little pathway towards the door, which is illuminated by dimmed, warm lights, and tilt your neck to the side to crack it before knocking. a few moments later, you hear the locks click as they turn and the door opens, matt opens it and he’s wearing some white t-shirt, which is paired with black sweatpants. 
“thank you for coming, and again, i swear i’m not hitting on you.” 
“matt, it would be very illegal for me to do anything like that with you. i get it, seriously.” 
“just making sure.” he says, “come in, my aunt is coming home soon.” 
his aunt had sent you a text asking if you were his tutor, and she had thanked you for offering such assistance to her nephew. the lady—his aunt—seemed sweet. her tone via text and the amusing emojis she used had given you this image of some woman in her 40s or 50s, probably baking cookies and thanking you with a warm hug for helping her dear relative. you’ll meet her later; hopefully, she does end up giving you cookies. 
matt leads you to the dining area and as you make your way there, the aroma of vanilla fills the air. maybe it was the cookies that were waiting for you, or you’re just really hungry and craving something sweet. 
“i have the things i need to study, he gave us this study guide and i have some questions regarding the velocity equations.” he explains, but stops himself in his tracks and mutters an “ah,” before asking, “did you want anything to drink?” 
“no, no.” you dismiss him with a wave of your hand. “let’s get started, shall we?” 
the rhythmic ticking of the clock echoed through the room as you continued to guide matt through the complexities of his physics homework. frustrated groans and muttered curses painted a vivid picture of the challenges he was enduring—in this case, one of the most dreadful subjects ever—and you found yourself helping him whenever you could. 
as the sounds of the front door unlocking reached your ears, both you and matt instinctively turned towards the entrance. matt, eager to get a small break from the terrible page of paper in front of him, leapt up to open the door just as it swung ajar. 
"hey, auntie," he greeted, the familial connection evident in his tone. 
“hi matt, there are some groceries i need you to take in, would you mind helping me out?” 
“no not at all,” he says, then excuses himself to go help out with the groceries. 
the figure that emerged into the room drew your attention like a magnetic force. matt's aunt strode in with an air of authority that commanded immediate respect. your jaw tensed as you observed her approach, an almost instinctive reaction to the oddly powerful aura exuded from her. how crazy it was for a woman who’s just appeared to have you sit up in your seat. 
she was not what you expected—a far cry from the stereotypical image you had of aunts in their 40s or 50s, definitely not as old as you had assumed. instead, she carried an ageless poise, appearing young but undeniably mature. dressed in a black blazer that teased the line between formal and casual, ending provocatively above her knees, she was a vision that held your gaze captive. 
however, it wasn't just the flawless outfit that ensnared your attention. it was the remarkable contours of her face, the sharpness of her cheekbones that had your jaw dropping just barely as you were in your trance. her steps echoed with a strange power, and even in her approach, you couldn't help but feel a sense of intimidation just by existing within her proximity. 
as matt’s aunt neared, her gaze locked onto yours—a gaze that felt both deathly and tremendously allurin — then, she smiled, a shift in demeanor that caught you off guard. the stern, professional aura melted away, replaced by a wonderfully cute smile that seemed to rival her intimidating presence. 
you—caught in a momentary trance—couldn't help but reciprocate with a dorky smile, your hand instinctively moving to fix your hair, as if trying to match the sudden change in atmosphere. what a mess you were for someone’s aunt you’ve just laid your eyes on.  
"ah, you're y/n, matt's tutor, am i correct?" she inquired, her voice sent a ripple of warmth through the room. the cadence of her words held a subtle allure, a tone that rang with confidence and undeniable charm. her voice was a little on the deeper end, but regardless it was hot and you could for sure get used to it. 
you managed to nod, finding your voice despite the sudden whirlwind of emotions. "yes, that's me. nice to meet you, miss park." 
“no need to be so formal hon.” she chuckles, pleased. “you can call me jihyo.” she assures with a smile. jihyo stretches out her hand and you take it, her hands are soft and smaller than yours, and her nails well manicured. “you have nice hands y/n.”  
that is such a crazy statement coming from someone’s beautiful, striking aunt who you’ve met for the first time ever and just now. your cheeks flush and you laugh shyly before responding, “thank you, your hands are um, they’re nice too.” 
after realizing that you’ve been holding this woman’s hand for too long, you pull away and run a hand through your hair again. jihyo smiles at you before walking over to the desk and examining the paper, she sighs and raises her brows. 
“ah, physics, i was never good at that when i was in high school.” 
“yes it’s something a lot of people struggled with in high school, i was lucky to be able to do well in that class.” you shrug, and jihyo looks at you impressed. 
“i see, you must be smart huh? and how old are you sweetheart?” 
your knees almost give up on you after this crazy hot woman just called you sweetheart, yet you manage to respond to her without stuttering or sounding like a fool. “i’m 20.” 
“ah, pretty young huh. you’re in college?” 
“yeah. education major, actually.” 
“how cute.” she responds amusingly, “well, thank you again for teaching my nephew. i’ll be upstairs, just send a text or shout if he’s a hassle. thanks hon.” 
jihyo shoots you a grateful smile before patting you on the shoulder; you might just die right then and there. you gulp lightly and manage to choke out a response, “y-yeah, no problem.” which makes the older woman giggle softly before leaving. 
you have got to get a grip. 
-- 
the woman you’ve interacted with for no more than three minutes surely left a mark with her first impression. now you’re putting more effort into your appearance than you did for that date you had three weeks ago with the girl sarah set you up with. 
you slip into a white graphic baby tee that effortlessly molds around your figure, the perfect balance of snug and comfortable. the tee you were gifted is paired with your beloved thrifted boyfriend jeans, their wash perfectly complements your top and if you were to stretch just a little bit, jihyo would get a glimpse of the line that runs down your tummy. a hint of effortlessness fills the air as you tie up the upper half of your hair, allowing loose strands to gently caress your shoulders and frame your face. light and natural makeup enhances your best features, purposefully done to emphasize your appeal with a touch of ease.  
when you reach the front door of matt’s house, you brush a strand of hair out and pat down the black cardigan you have on before knocking on it three times. the familiar teenage boy opens it up and greets you with a smile, inviting you in.  
everything goes as usual: you situate yourself in a different room this time and matt hands you his assignments. you take your time to give them a good look, and then ask him what he needs help with. this time he needs help with precalculus, and thankfully, you’re pretty good at that too. 
you watch him work on the assignments for a bit and start to get thirsty, and then you realize you’ve forgotten your water bottle on the counter in your small apartment.  
“ah i forgot my bottle… could i get some water?” you ask him, and he nods without looking away from the paper. 
“yeah, the kitchen is down the hall to the right. there’s bottles in the fridge. could you grab me a coke zero?” 
“yeah, thanks, i’ll be quick. just work on these for the time being.” he hums in response to you and continues to write down various messy scribbles while solving some type of math problem he’s been assigned. 
you do as he says: walk down the hall and to the right to enter the familiar kitchen you were near last time and you’re met with the familiar older woman that had you all flustered before. she’s standing by the stove and cooking something up and it smells great. awkwardly, you walk over to the fridge and she turns after catching you in her peripheral. 
she smiles immediately upon meeting your presence. 
“y/n! hi honey, it’s nice to see you.” jihyo greets, “i’ve been wanting to see you again.” 
“you have?” your cheeks flush immediately, and you manage to recompose yourself, clearing your throat before responding,, “it’s nice to see you too..” 
jihyo looks you up and down, eyes pausing for two seconds on the baby tee hugging your figure before meeting your eyes again. her look does things that she wants her hands doing, but that’s for her to know. 
“did you need anything sweetheart?” she asks, raising a brow. her question doesn’t process through your head until a few moments after. you were too busy admiring her from head to toe, taking in her features, the casual outfit she has on—eyes enjoying the view of her cleavage that slightly shows in that black tank top she wears.  
you clear your throat again. 
“oh i was just getting some drinks for matt and i.” you respond, quickly darting your eyes away from her chest.  
the older woman giggles amusingly, “take whatever you’d like from there.” 
“thank you miss— i mean, jihyo. it’s fine really, just thirsty and matt wants a coke zero, haha.” 
“alright~” she says, dragging her response teasingly. “just let me know, ‘kay?”  
“yeah, thanks.” you smile sheepishly and nod, then grab the drinks you almost forgot about before walking away.  
jihyo looks you up and down as you step into the hall, smirking a bit before going back to cook the dinner she’d been preparing.  
when you get back to the room where you had been tutoring, you spot matt, who is still writing down some equation down on his paper. he looks up once he hears you, then smiles after seeing the coca-cola in your hand. 
“here’s your drink.” you smile. 
“thanks.” 
“it’s no problem, your aunt told me to grab as much as i’d like. is she always so… sweet?” 
“i mean, i guess so. she’s pretty laid back with my friends as long as we don’t do too much.” matt opens the can and shakes his head as a small laugh slips out. “she’s definitely more generous with you, i can tell. she asked me about you actually.” 
“she what?” your eyes widen and your head turns. “what did she ask?” 
“nothing too important, just when you’d be over again.” matt shrugs, then his adam’s apple moves up and down whilst his neck muscles tense and relax as he gulps down the carbonated drink. “damn this is fizzy—” he says, then coughs. “fuck.” 
matt leaves you with an awareness of jihyo’s curiousity towards your own self, and now you’re trying to focus on tutoring the kid whilst thinking of his aunt.  
“good job matt, i can see you’re already getting much better. the concepts and formulas seem to be clicking, yeah?” you praise, he nods. matt stretches his arms out and you roll your shoulders back to release some tension. 
after helping him tidy up, you make sure everything is back in your own tote bag that you had brought. matt turns towards the entrance to the room and his eyebrows raise a bit, then you turn and see the same woman. your jaw tenses—lips part slightly too. 
jihyo walks in and the sway of her hips isn’t unnoticeable. she looks at the two of you, eyes lingering on you longer than her own nephew, then beams. “matt, help me set up dinner will you?” 
“mhm, gotchu. what’s for dinner by the way?” 
“steak and pasta, go mix up the pasta would you?” 
“yes aunt hyo.” matt complies, then shoots you a grateful grin before standing up with an exaggerated, tired sigh. he walks past jihyo, leaving the two of you alone. 
your heart beats embarrassingly fast once matt is gone, it thumps so hard in your chest that you’re afraid that jihyo may hear.  
“done for the day?” jihyo questions, walking over to you. 
you gulp. “yeah, just finished actually.” 
“i see, you must be hungry.” then jihyo locks eyes with you, and you genuinely think it might be something more—or maybe you’re delusional—who knows. “stay for dinner.” 
okay maybe it’s something more, or you’re just a desperate, lovesick gay college student that’s borderline head over heels. 
“oh it’s fine, really.” you say it with uncertainty, waving your hands in the air with an awkward smile. “i don’t want to trouble you.” 
“it’d be anything but a trouble y/n.” jihyo counters, “if anything the trouble would be letting a pretty lady like you out my house with an empty stomach.” 
jihyo places her hand on your shoulder, then squeezes it lightly. her eyes have you paralyzed in place, drilling into your pupils and then finding their attention on your lips. jihyo is slightly shorter than you, yet you feel so helpless under than her. an amused smirk plays on her lips and you find yourself clutching your tote bag strap a little tighter. 
“…then i’ll take your offer, thank you.” you nod awkwardly, feeling your cheeks flush. 
jihyo nods, feeling accomplished, then pulls her hand off your shoulder. “i’ll have matt know there’s going to be an extra plate then. come on sweetheart.” 
-- 
now you’re sat at the dining table with jihyo across. she’s grinning and her eyes keep wandering all over you, but most of the time they’re focused on your face. 
matt hands you a plate with steak and alfredo pasta, then some utensils. he places a cup of water down on a coaster and pushes it towards you, then hands his aunt a glass of white wine.  
matt takes a bite of the meal and sighs, pleased with how it satisfies his hunger. jihyo laughs at him whilst he goes on to devour the plate. you follow after him and twirl some of the noodle against your spoon, then stab a piece of steak with your fork. the bite you take is filled with some saltiness, though it’s deliciously savory—just how you like it. 
jihyo smiles. “good?” 
“it’s great, thank you again jihyo.”  
“anytime, i fancy your company.” she responds before taking a bite herself. 
there’s a question brewing in your mind, but you’re second-guessing yourself because it seems a bit rude, well, maybe. jihyo swallows the steak and reaches for her glass again. 
“so it’s just you and matt?” you ask, avoiding eye contact. 
matt turns and raises a brow, then shrugs it off. jihyo simply nods her head. 
“just me and the troublemaker.” she jokes, which earns an eye roll from matt. “he moved here a few years ago, the school over here is excellent for him. great academics, extracurriculars, sports teams…” 
“i see. good for him then.”  
“what about you?” jihyo questions. you look up at her in the middle of chewing down your pasta, rushing to get a response out. 
“sorry, what?” 
“just you? no boyfriend or… significant other?”  
surprisingly, you don’t choke on your food. “oh no, not at the moment.” 
“that’s a shame, and a surprise.” she takes another bite of steak and chews on it in the right side of her cheek, puffing it out a little. “i wonder why no one has made a move, i would’ve if there were a beauty like you around.” 
matt pauses, his brows furrow and he looks at his aunt with some slight concern. “auntie?” 
“i’m only teasing silly, just complimenting,” jihyo says, laughing to ease the tension in the air (though, it doesn’t work. your heart starts racing again and the meal gets harder to finish). “it’s better than whatever you’ve said over the phone to those—”  
matt coughs, then shakes his head. “okay okay, we get it.” he rolls his eyes (again) and shrinks into his seat, making jihyo giggle. you laugh as well and matt scoffs as he pokes at the steak on his plate. 
there’s a sudden buzz that makes the table vibrate slightly. your phone sits next to your glass of water, and you reach for it hastily. due to your clumsy handling, the water topples over, spilling all over shirt—your chest. 
“shit—” you curse and stand up quickly.  
“matt, grab some napkins for y/n.” jihyo orders, quickly walking over to your side of the table. she grabs the napkins from her nephew and hands them to you, then urges you to follow her. she turns to matt and quickly says, “clean up the table, i’ll go help y/n out with her clothes.” 
matt hums in response and you follow jihyo, feeling embarassed from the small scene you’ve made. 
-- 
“i’m really sorry, and really, i could’ve cleaned up on my own—”  
“it’s fine y/n, don’t worry about it.” jihyo assures, leading you to the large master bedroom.  
there’s a king-sized bed in the middle, dimmed lights, and the room screams luxury. jihyo leads you over to the closet and grabs a small towel, then starts to pat down at your chest, making your cheeks burn.  
her hands find their way over to your shoulder to stabilize you, and then she’s shaking her head after trying to dry the spillage on your shirt. “this won’t do, let me get you a shirt. you can take off yours and leave it on the hanger over there.” she says, pointing to the hook. 
“t-thank you.” mentally, you facepalm yourself for sounding so nervous. 
“your cheeks are red,” jihyo giggles. she places her hand on your shoulder, then drags it down to your chest briefly before pulling away. “it’s alright honey, it happens. i’ll get you that shirt.” 
a few minutes later she enters the abnormally large closet again and hands you a gray sweatshirt with some college logo on it.  
“thank you jihyo, i’ll give this back to you when i—” 
“it’s fine, just keep it for pajamas or anything like that. it’s just some old shirt from when i graduated a while ago.” jihyo says. you pray that you look calm and collected, trying to mask your flustered-self with a smile. “i’ll let you change, just come out when you’re done sugar.” 
“yeah, thanks—and sorry.”  
jihyo shakes her head and waves off your apology with her hand. 
-- 
you’re back downstairs in a few minutes—minutes of jihyo (not so) subtly checking you out in her old clothes. 
matt asks if you’re okay, you answer with a nod and a smile. 
“my roommate keeps calling me, i should get going.” is muttered followed by an unnecessary peek into your tote bag, shuffling through to make sure you have everything. “thank you again for everything.” 
jihyo leads you to the door and sends matt up to get ready for school. she flattens out her own clothes, runs a hand through her hair, then watches you slip on your shoes from the front door. 
“you should stay for dinner more often y/n, i enjoyed it.” 
you chuckle awkwardly, then push a strand of hair back. “i enjoyed it too, though i’m sorry for spilling water everywhere.” 
“that’s quite alright, you could always make up for it by staying over. i like your company.”  
looking down at the ground, you smile bashfully and respond, “i’ll consider it. thank you again.”  
“drive safe pretty.” jihyo says, waving goodbye and shutting the door. 
sarah sits on the opposite end of the couch and watches you closely.  
youre hugging your knees to your chest and smiling, making your roommate turn her head in confusion. “why’d you drag me to the couch.” 
“i need to tell you about today. about everything.” 
“make it quick, i have a lecture tomorrow morning for psych.” she sighs, crossing her arms and leaning against the couch. 
“so i’ve been tutoring that kid you know, the high school kid.” you start, and sarah nods as she hums. “yeah so basically i tutor him that one day at his school or whatever, then, he asks me to tutor him at his house.” 
“so he… wants you?” 
“no, absolutely not. plus, that’s like, a case.” you say with a shake of your hand, dismissing hee assumption. “but, speaking of age differences, i went to his house — his aunts house — and i was tutoring him and whatnot. then i hear someone knock on the door and he says it’s his aunt, so im unfazed or whatever because it’s probably this middle aged lady or whatever.” 
“right, so…?” 
“so i was fucking wrong.” you explain, sitting up now. “the most beautiful woman i’ve ever laid eyes on walks in. she’s dressed in work clothes or something, all black, and she looks good.”  
“oh, so you’re gay.” sarah scoffs amusingly, quirking a brow. “am i supposed to be… surprised?” 
“can you just shut the fuck up and listen to me fully for once, please.” 
sarah rolls her eyes. “fine.” 
“okay so she calls me hon, then she says my hands are sweet — and keep in mind, this is the first time i’ve talked to her in person. then she calls me sweetheart?” 
“she’s being nice i think, considering she’s probably older than you. maybe you’re just gay, delusional, and haven’t gotten laid since… months ago?” 
“just because you and your girlfriend do it every time i’m out does not mean you have to shove it down my throat.” you scoff, “anyways, yeah no i thought that too, but then her nephew — the kid in tutoring — he tells me that she’s more generous with me and asks about me. i don’t think that’s being nice.” 
“that might just be curiosity and being nice, y/n.” 
“no hear me out okay,” sarah giggles as she watches you talk all animatedly with your hands moving after every couple of words. “she invited me for dinner — literally wanted me to stay, like insisted — then said i was too pretty to not be taken? and then she was saying that if ‘there were a beauty like you around, i would’ve made a move.’” 
sarah’s eyes widen, then her mouth opens slightly in shock. she leans closer to you, now fully invested knowing that this isn’t just another stretch of your interactions with women.  
“holy shit?” 
“i know.” you say, feeling your cheeks flush just from thinking about it. “and then you called and i spilled water and whatnot, she brought me to her room and—“ 
“you guys fucked?” 
“no!” you immediately say, a little too loud for that matter. “no, no.” you reassure, “though, i’m going to be honest i kind of wish—but that’s besides the point. she helped me out and patted down my tits — well my shirt but who cares, same thing — and then gave me her old sweatshirt. im literally wearing it right now and i remember her checking me out as soon as i changed into them.” 
“oh my god?” 
“yeah, and then you called again for me to come back or whatever and she told me to stay for dinner more often. now i’m here and that’s the end of the story.” 
sarah simply stares at you with wide eyes, her hand covering her slightly opened mouth. you place your hands on your face snd grown, feeling the heat of your cheeks on the skin of your hand. 
“i cant believe someone’s aunt wants you.” 
“i know!”  
“are you going to… sleep with her?” sarah asks, tilting her head. 
you find yourself lost in thought, often drifting into a world where she consumes your every waking moment - both at work and during classes. in these vivid daydreams, your thoughts sometimes stray to a more innocent realm. you envision the possibility of going on a simple date with her, where you can unravel the layers of her personality and just get to know her on a deeper level. because jihyo’s the type of woman that you want to sit down and get to know, that’s for sure.  
but to be honest, most of the time your mind wanders to far more… provocative scenarios. your imagination conjures up images of her completely unveiled, with a tantalizing desire to feel her hands caressing your every contour, leaving you to completely submit to her; to be ruined by jihyo personally. these fantasies consume you, their allure impossible to resist.  
“well, i don’t know.” you answer, pinching the bridge of her nose. “i still have to tutor her nephew.” 
“hmm… then focus on that and then sleeping with his aunt.” sarah suggests, giggling lightly before her phone buzzes. she looks at the screen and sees a text from her girlfriend, then smiles immediately. “speaking of sleeping with people, my girlfriend is picking me up. i’ll be out for the night.” 
you groan, still wanting sarah to listen to you while losing your mind and leave her own comments here and there. it’s almost impossible to get her away from her girlfriend. you’re so jealous and sarah loves to poke at you for being single and insatiable. 
“you’re unbelievable.” 
sarah shrugs, getting up with a cheeky grin. she snickers, “and you need to get laid. good luck with your little milf situation.” 
“she’s not his mom!” 
“same difference.” 
— 
the next time you tutor matt, you never get to talk or see jihyo. matt explains that she’s out for the night, something related to a business trip that he seems to not really care about. 
but you care, and you need to know when she’s back. unfortunately, tutoring comes first and the last thing you want to do is make it obvious that you have a crush on the aunt of the kid you’re tutoring. 
(matt has a little hunch; he notices the stares the both of you give each other when you two think no one is looking. matt is looking and definitely suspicious of how nervous you get around her and how generous his aunt is to you. though, he doesn’t have time to dive deeper in that since another physics test is clouding his brain for the time being.) 
you run into jihyo the day after that session with matt, but not as his house.  
there’s a place near the campus that’s now you and your friends’ signature study and hangout spot. it’s this cozy café and restaurant that the five of you have spent countless hours at either conversing and laughing for hours or losing your mind over whatever classes you guys take. this time, you’re all getting brunch together and debating something small. 
you excuse yourself and get in line to grab a drink since you only purchased a panini, thinking that would satisfy you. you were wrong. so, you stand in line for a bit, not really minding your surroundings while you tap through various instagram stories and scroll mindlessly. a minute later, you feel a tap on your shoulder while you’re halfway through a video your friend had posted. when you turn around you’re met with the face that has you lost in a momentary trance.  
“ah y/n, it’s nice to see you.” jihyo says. 
“oh, jihyo.” you respond, trying to hide your surprise and sudden nervousness. “it’s nice to see you too.” 
oh for sure it’s nice to see her. sunglasses sit on the top of her head, loose strands fall over her face, and the dress she’s wearing under her long coat looks divine. your eyes scan her whole body for a short moment, and then you’re clearing your throat as she starts to speak again. 
“are you here alone?” she asks you, looking you up in down in the process. 
“oh i’m with friends actually, they’re over by the window—“ you point to the group of four laughing together, all invested in the conversation at hand as the afternoon light brightens their smiles. “—we were just getting together and eating brunch.” you explain. 
“i see…” jihyo mumbles, looking over to your friends. she sounds a bit dissapointed, but you could be wrong about that.  
“what are you doing here? i mean, i don’t mean that in a rude way it’s just—“ 
jihyo smiles again, putting her hand on your shoulder as she laughs. “oh honey,” one of many things she calls you that makes your breath go short, “it’s fine, i get what you mean.” she trails down to your bicep, her skin warm on yours. “i was going to grab a drink before work, this is one of my favorite cafes.” 
“what a coincidence, it’s one of mine too.” 
jihyo subtly acknowledges your presence, her gaze gracefully trailing along your figure, delicately fixating on the tantalizing hint of skin peeking through your attire. her probing eyes pause there momentarily, capturing every nuance of the tempting groove down your tummy, accentuated by your low-rise jeans and revealing crop top. the ensemble effortlessly enhances your allure, inducing an irresistible appeal that’s impossible to ignore. as her gaze eventually retreats, it effortlessly returns to meet your own.  
“i suppose we have lots in common.” jihyo notes. 
“yeah,” you breath out, “i guess so.” 
“next in line please!” one of the the cashiers yells out, snapping you out of your daze. you apologize to him and then smile at jihyo before walking over and shuffling for the wallet in your shoulder bag.  
after getting your pistachio latte, you walk back to your friends and they beam at you. setting your bag down, you listen in on the conversation. 
“—and so, as i was saying, he kept making me pay for everything on the first date.” mai scoffs, crossing her arms. she’s a friend from your intro to education, lively and always has something to say. this time, it seems to be quite interesting. “look, i am a 50-50 girl and whatnot, but he asked me out and expects me to pay? i felt like there was a whole beard on my face and my balls dropped or something after paying for him. yeah, never again.” 
you laugh loudly, covering your mouth upon hearing the entertaining story.  
again – similar to just a few minutes ago – there’s a tap on your shoulder. your friends look at the woman behind you before you can, and once you set your look on her; your heart starts to beat again, a blush settling on your cheeks. 
“hey pretty, i was about to leave for work.” jihyo says with a smile, “can we talk for a bit? alone.”  
to your left, another one of your friends raises his eyebrows subtly. just with that small gesture alone, he manages ask without speaking: who’s this woman and why is she calling you pretty? though, you can’t answer him just yet. there’s no way you’d embarrass yourself in front of jihyo. 
you clear your throat and stutter just barely in your response. “hey, hi. um, yeah, sure. excuse me guys, i um, need to talk with her.”  
after sending an apologetic smile and earning various cheeky smiles, you nod at jihyo and find a spot near the window to talk to her. alone. she brushes a strand of hair out of your face and leans back to sit upright in her seat; you try to stay calm 
“i just wanted to ask for a favor, i completely forgot about it until i got a notification from my calendar.” 
“oh, what is it?”  
she looks out the window and sips on her iced drink, then turns back to meet your eyes. “well, i have a work dinner thing, a lot of… men will be there for the most part. i was wondering if you’d accompany me? i’m afraid i’d grow tired of their dull efforts to impress me, but it’s completely fine if you can’t make it.” jihyo says, although her tone near the end suggests that she’d be pretty disappointed with an answer other than yes. “i know it’s a big ask, but i’ve grown quite fond of you. is that ridiculous?” 
quickly, you dismiss her by waving your hands a bit frantically and shaking your head. you assure her, “it’s not ridiculous at all!” unintentionally, the volume of your voice spikes. “i’m actually um, really flattered that you feel that way, seriously. it also wouldn’t be any trouble – the dinner thing – id, um, i would love to accompany you.” 
jihyo finds herself blushing, surprisingly. she sips on the drink before setting it down on the marble counter side, then places her elbows on the table and her eyes smile, then her nose scrunches a bit.  
“right, that’s wonderful.” she says, “come over to my place tomorrow at 5:30 then?” you gulp upon hearing her words – practically an order with that tone and raise of her brow – then nod. she smiles and places her hand on your shoulder again, this time terribly close to the crook of your neck, her thumb brushing against your throat. “good, see you then.” 
“yeah,” you respond, not wanting to leave yet; your friends are waiting for you and jihyo has to go to work, so you begin to stand. “i’ll see you… my friends um, they’re—” 
“oh, yes, sorry for dragging you away—” 
“no!” you shake your hands again, cringing at how loud your voice grew (again). “they’re fine with it and i don’t want you to be late for work. we weren’t doing anything important anyway, just catching up.” 
she giggles and stands up to face you, eyes angled up slightly since she’s an inch or two shorter. she takes her hand off her skin and it feels specifically frigid in that area now that the warmth radiating off her fingers isn’t there, you almost shiver. 
“right, thanks hon. i’ll see you tomorrow yeah? shoot me a text when you get there, you have my number.” 
you nod and she hands her work bag on her shoulder, then starts to walk away – but not before winking at you. you smile, feeling your heart do a flip. 
when you return to your table, your friends are already eyeing you mischievously. mai has her straw sitting on her teeth, giving you that look. your jaw tightens and you smile at them before awkwardly sitting back in the previously empty seat, mentally preparing yourself in those two silent seconds before they all start bombarding you with questions and relentless teasing. 
you arrived at jihyo’s house ten minutes early, a little earlier than you’d expected since the traffic wasn’t as bad. you walk down the small path leading to the steps, then up those three steps and onto the doormat. before you can even knock, the door opens and matt nearly bumps into you. 
he apologizes immediately, then looks at you with scrunched brows. 
“were we supposed to tutor today?” he asks, scratching his head with a finger. “if we were, sorry but i’ve got plans.” he says, nudging his head forward, making you turn around to see a honda civic parked on the street across. the windows are rolled down, revealing another guy that looks around his age in the drivers seat, another in the passengers side that you can barely see, and two girls in the back.  
“oh, no. jihyo called me over actually, not for you.” 
matt raises his brows, then his body relaxes. “oh.” 
“yeah, didn’t mean to scare you.” 
“no it’s… fine.” he assures, looking at you skeptically. “have fun with… my aunt? um, whatever you two are… doing. i’m staying at a friends house tonight so…” 
“yeah, have fun.” you respond awkwardly, looking up at him as he observes you for a few seconds longer. the makeup on your face is slightly heavier than usual – not that it’s a bad thing, in fact he wouldn’t have even noticed if it weren’t for the nice dress you were wearing. quite odd, he figures, but it’s not his business. he shrugs his shoulders and forgets about it, waving at you before he leaves, running over to the black honda civic that’s playing music at a volume so loud that you can hear it from the door. 
you forget about the whole encounter for a moment, instead redirecting your attention to the opened door in front of you. stepping inside, you get a whiff of the familiar lavender scent that fills the house, then close the door behind you. the house is silent until you send jihyo a text, and she responds a few seconds later by yelling from upstairs. 
“y/n! come upstairs darling!”  
you freeze in place, suddenly feeling intimidated for no reason. nonetheless, you walk on over to the stairs, then up to jihyo’s room. 
as you enter the room, her image captivates your attention in the mirror. the black dress she has on a pulls you towards her, reciprocating the intense attraction you both feel. the attraction that’s most definitely there, but jihyo’s a tease and you’re cautious. she likes that she has you wrapped around her finger. it’s amusing how easily flustered you get around her. 
the sight of her is nothing short of exquisite, and your gaze fixates on the enticing curve of her hips, igniting a subtle pulse in between your legs hunger that has you subconsciously nibbling on your lip. glancing further upwards, you indulge in the sight of her exposed shoulders, showcased gracefully in the mirror's reflection. they exude a provoking attraction, tempting you to succumb to your countless daydreams. you want to explore the softness of her skin, want to leave indelible marks on her delicate collarbones. 
in the midst of your blatant stare, her eyes lock with yours through the mirror, catching you in the act of unabashedly admiring her. she laughs, then she turns around to face you, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips. 
“like what you see?” she teases you, making your cheeks burn.  
you clear your throat and pretend to busy yourself by looking into your bag, but manage to respond politely, “i um—sorry. matt let me in, he just left.” 
she starts to step towards you, and you feel yourself gulp unintentionally.  
“mhm, he told me about the sleepover.” she says, then stands inches away from you. using her pointer and thumb, she tilts your chin up and away from the bag hung on your shoulder, intensely gazing at you for a moment before speaking again. “you look remarkable.” 
your breath hitches as you look at her, eyes drilling into yours while you try to stay calm. “t-thank you.” 
she eyes you for a while longer before nodding, then smiles at you like she didn’t just eye fuck you. 
“let’s get going, there’s good parking if we arrive early. less of a hassle for us.” 
all you can do is hum and follow her, afraid of embarrassing yourself from how flustered and inaudible you are. 
the car ride consisted of you trying to not stare at her sharp, defined features the whole time. it was very difficult to not glance here and there, a few times you had your eyes glued on her godly cheekbones and sometimes you even eyed the way her bones would pop out when she turned the wheel.  
during the car ride, you found it increasingly challenging to avert your gaze from her captivating, exquisitely sculpted features. the temptation to steal a glimpse here and there proved irresistible, as her godly cheekbones held your attention.  
at times, you couldn't help but be captivated by the protrusion of her bones as she maneuvered the steering wheel. after eyeing it for too long, jihyo caught you in her peripheral and turned to face you – the light was red anyway – then smiled cheekily. she moved her hand towards your thigh, placing it dangerously close to the dampening area in between your legs. 
“you alright lovely? you seem a little tense.” jihyo asks, rubbing your thigh with her thumb just barely. “something on your mind?” 
you fought back a low whimper before you respond, “i’m fine, thanks.” you try, voice small as she adds more pressure to your skin. you try your best to remain calm and composed, but god it’s so hard when she’s touching you there and like that. “it’s not important, i was just daydreaming.” 
(your daydreaming will be increasingly explicit from now on.) 
the light turns green and jihyo puts her hand back on the wheel as she turns away from you, redirecting her attention on the road. your jaw tenses and you shift in the seat a little, thighs closing and rubbing together. 
jihyo pretends not to notice and fights back a smirk. 
-- 
the two of you would enter the restaurant together with jihyo linking your arms and smiling at you like she didn’t just make you ten times hornier than you already are daily. 
as you enter, you are immediately mesmerized by the extraordinary interior. the lighting casts an enchanting, almost mystical ambiance, wrapping the space in an intimate aura. the arrangement of tables is meticulously planned, each one positioned with precision and attention to detail. the sheer beauty of the place is breathtaking, leaving you in awe. it’s evident that reservations at this place come with a hefty price tag, most definitely surpassing the cost of more than half of your apartment's monthly rent; maybe almost as much as what you and sarah pay together.  
jihyo leans in closer to your ear, lips brushing against your skin and it sends a shiver down your spine. “come lovely, let’s find our seats.” she says, then walks you over with her to the man with slicked back hair and an impossibly perfect posture. he gives you the table number and holds his arm out in the direction of it, then jihyo thanks him with that weirdly arousing voice she has and tugs on your arm lightly. 
there are other men that are scattered around the dining area, they all notice jihyo as soon as she steps in – who wouldn’t? 
she’s stone faced as she walks with you and towards the table, her stern expression unfazed by the stares from men that aren’t accompanied by their respective lovers. though, maybe those with their own lover took a small glimpse. 
you feel a little small, most eyes are on jihyo though a good amount also land on you. it seems that the two of you have taken the attention of the majority, which freaks you much as much as it flatters you. jihyo seems to notice the attention on you too, then subtly brings you closer to her.  
jihyo sits down first and flattens out her outfit before she fixes her hair, then pats down the seat next to her. you sit down and she brings your chair a little closer before leaning towards your ear and speaking again. 
“thank you for coming, i wouldn’t have been able to make it to the table this quickly if it weren’t for you.” 
you hum, then ask, “why is that?” 
“the men here are shameless, they hit on me dinner after dinner.” jihyo sighs, then lowers her voice when she says, “i guess they were too distracted by you. you’re a sight worth skipping dinner for.” 
you gulp, laughing off her suggestive compliment before boldly responding, “i think most would much rather… indulge in you. i get their standpoint, though.”  
as you begin to fix the delicate fabric of your dress, a subtle flicker of surprise dances within jihyo's widened eyes. with her grip on her handbag growing tighter, her gaze shifts towards you, a newfound intensity in her look. you turn to look right back in her eyes, almost challenging her with this new confidence of yours. it’s in this moment that the unspoken connection seems to deepen, the tension drawing you two closer. the allure she now feels towards you, layered with a hint of curiosity and urge to undress you, is palpable yet carefully restrained. 
three more men greet jihyo formally and she smiles forcefully at them before they take their seats and indulge in their own conversation. the menus are handed once everyone settles in and everyone glances at the options. the selection intimidates you; half the dishes incorporate foreign words that you had never heard of.  
jihyo places her hand on your thigh again, this time higher than before. she looks at you with those drilling brown eyes and squeezes a bit.  
“know what you’d like?” 
your breath shakes reluctantly, but you respond with a leveled tone. “yeah, the chicken chasseur.” there’s a ninety percent chance you butchered that pronunciation, half of the reason was because you never really paid attention in your french three class your junior year of high school, and the other half was because jihyo’s fingers started tracing patterns into the flesh of your thigh. 
“right, the chasseur,” she says teasingly, pronouncing it correctly. “that’s one of my favorites.” 
“i see, i’ll definitely like it then.” 
“mhm.”  
the waiter comes by – the same guy with the slicked back hair – he introduces himself in a deep, formal tone. it catches you off guard that his name is so simple: michael. he takes all of your orders, then collects each menu. as soon as he leaves, one of the men at the table attempt to strike up some small talk with jihyo, and she responds with blunt, uninterested answers. the men are left intimidated and out of luck, then try to succeed in initiating a meaningful conversation with you. 
“what was your name dear?” one says, his features implying that he’s not too far off from how old your parents are.  
hesitantly, you respond with a polite “y/n,” before smiling respectfully. he narrows his eyes and smirks before glancing down, it leaves you uneasy. jihyo clears her throat and sends daggers at him with her glare. 
“how are you and your wife, samuel?” she questions, quirking a brow before your waiter arrives with a bottle of white and red wine. the man who’d bee blatantly chekcing out your chest area grimaces, then fakes a smile. 
“we’re doing fine.” he says a little sternly, then halts his attempts at socializing with you. 
you send jihyo a thankful glance, she responds with a grin before swirling the white wine in her glass and giving a sip, then sips. 
“this is good, have some dear.” she says, urging you with a tilt of her head to try some of the identical wine in your own glass. “do you like wine?” 
“kind of, i mean, i never really indulge...” your response gives you a quick flashback of the various cheap selections of alcoholic drinks you’ve downed at house parties you’d attend here and there. you grab your glass and copy what jihyo does – you don’t really know how to sip on wine without it looking like you can’t even afford three sips – then raise your brows in surprise once you get a taste. it's sharp and fruity, much richer than the past drinks you’ve had. 
“good?” jihyo says amusingly, observing your expression. 
“it’s wonderful.” 
she grins at you, then gances around the table hastily. two of the men continue to glance over even as they talk withe ach other, it seems that you two just can’t escape the attention. the appetizers arrive a minute later and the two of you indulge, unable to create any small talk or anything like that with your company. jihyo decides she’s craving a different type of appetizer as soon as she sees you wipe your lip subtly. 
“come with me to the restroom, the main courses won’t be out for a little while.” jihyo insists, then looks around at the men busy with their bread, butter, and various other appetizers that sound too complicated for how they look. “besides, i'd rather be alone with you than surrounded by them for the time being.” 
once again, a tremor of anticipation seeps through you, your breath quivers with a mix of nerves and eagerness. jihyo just get’s bolder by the second. 
although it’s a simple trip to the restroom – a countless number of times you and your friends have scurried off to the comofrting ‘sanctuary’ of the girls’ room for meaningless conversations and minuscule touches of makeup – yet, with jihyo accompanying you now instead of your stupid best friends, your mind is propelled into an intricate labyrinth of scenarios, infused with explicit scenarios that jihyo stars in.  
jihyo gracefully positions herself before the strangely exquisite mirror, which is not only unreasonably large and fancy, but it also manages to delicately enhance her plump lips after applying a fresh coat of lipstick. as she caresses her captivating pout, you become mesmerized by the subtle dance of her lips, gently gliding against each other like silk. she releases her pursed lips with a faint “pop” sound before she looks at you through the mirror. 
“daydreaming again?” jihyo asks. you shake your head and walk over to the sink next to her before fixing your hair for no apparent reason. a smirk tugs at her lip sbefore she turns so that her back is facing you. “zip up my dress for me? seems to have gone loose.” 
without a word, you move your hands over to deftly maneurver the zipper along the length of her dress. the entire tableau unfolds so quickly, though there’s an unexpected intamacy that lingers in the air, seeming slightly out of place but it’s also undeniably enticing. your hold your breath unknowingly. 
“you know y/n,” jihyo starts, your hands still on the zipper. “you’re so easy to rile up, it’s cute.” 
“what?” you respond with disbelief, pretending that her statement isn’t the turth. she turns around and tilts her head, eyes narrowing as she draws her attention down to your lips – now parted – then brings a thumb to graze the bottom lip. 
“c’mon baby, think i didn’t notice how you were in the car?” she chuckles, now moving her fingers down to your chin and moving and pushing down on your chin to tilt your head down just barely. “staring at my chest and all of me so clearly in my own house... darling, do you think i’m a fool?” 
you gulp, her eyes peering into yours and waiting for an answer. you’re absolutely dumbfounded, cheeks burning violently. 
“i’m sorry i didn’t mean to--” 
“oh honey, i'm not against it.” she assures, smiling at you and bringer her hand down to play with the dainty necklace around you rneck. “if anything, i want you just as much as you seem to crave me.” 
“i--” 
she cuts you off, pressing a chaste peck to your lips. when she pulls away, you subconciously lean forward to catch her lips again, whining lowly. jihyo giggles softly before putting her thumb against your lips, adding pressure to halt your eagerness. 
“gosh, you’re adorable.” jihyo says, “i could just ruin your pretty little self right here.” 
“jihyo, please” 
she laughs, pleased, raising her brows and smirking at this new, desperate y/n she’s brought to the surface.  
“tell me how much you want me and i'll let you have more, can you do that?” 
your cheeks are on fire and so are your ears. jihyo pulls away further so she can fully see your face, stroking her knuckles down the curve of your cheek. you swallow shallowly before opening your mouth to speak, but hesitate.  
“c’mon baby, use your words for me. you can do that, can’t you?” 
“yes, yeah,” you sigh, trying to keep your voice stable. jihyo smiles, then presses a haste kiss to your jaw. your breath out shakily, bringing a hand to jihyo’s forearm.  
this has to be a dream, there’s no way matt’s aunt is this close to you – and like this. jihyo's pressing kisses down your jawline and neck, nibbling softly and eliciting sharp breaths. everything feels unreal, it’s so unexpected and you don’t know what to do while she brings a knee in between your legs. 
“i’m going to stop if you don’t tell me what you want pretty girl.” 
you sigh, almost moaning at the way her voice bounces off your skin.  
“someone’s going to walk in...” you mumble, placing your hand on her waist. 
“isn’t that part of the thrill?” jihyo asks, “tell me what you want.” 
“kiss me, please jihyo.” 
“that all?” 
of course it’s not all, you want to be pushed to the point of tears and incoherent sobs – but not here, not now. you can only groan at the untimely situation, wanting jihyo to take your time with you someplace less unorthodox. 
“when we go back... i want you to... do more.” you mumble shyly, watching jihyo move away from your neck so that she’s inches away from your face. her lips curl up into a mischievous smile as she twirls your hair. 
“i’ll take it easy on you for now,” jihyo chuckles, “come here.” 
without hesitation you lean forward, messily and eagerly meeting jihyo’s lips again. the two of you get used to everything and ease into each other’s contact, jihyo leading the way. she tugs on your bottom lip gently and you gasp, which gives her the chance to slide her tongue in and explore your mouth. 
you’ve madeout with girls countless times, but it’s always been messy, rushed, and the only thing you could taste and smell was cheap aochol. your past experiences have been nothing like what’s happening right now. 
you can taste the hints of fruit and slight vanilla in that expensive white wine from earlier, it’s even better when you get to taste it off of jihyo. she tastes divine. she’s so precise and skilled with her tongue and lips, immediately adjusting to the pace of the moment and ultimately leaving your knees weak. jihyo's fucking skilled, she knows what she’s doing and everything feels so goddamn euphoric. 
she pushes you against the marble of the sink area and you moan into her mouth when she squeezes your ass, making her smirk against your lips cheekily. you’re like a puppet in her control, and she knows just the right movements and subtle touches to get you going. 
jihyo pulls away suddenly and you whine, trying to pull her back. she holds you in place firmly, lingering near your lips and chuckling against them.  
“why-- why did you stop?” you ask desperately, pathetically pinching the fabric of her dress tighter.  
“pretty girl, you’ve forgotten where we are haven’t you? the main course might be out.” 
“but jihyo--” 
“listen,” she says sternly, sending a shiver down your spine. a soft smile is displayed, which soothes your nerves after witnessing it. jihyo tucks your hair behind her ear. “let’s make a deal, how about that?” 
“okay,” 
“if you can...” she starts, twirling the hair on the nape of your neck. “...be good for me and stay patient, then i'll reward you when we get back to the house. can you be good for me pretty?” 
a lump forms in your throat, making it difficult to respond. you try your best to do so anyway. 
“mhm, i can.” 
“good. i'd love to ruin you right here, don’t get me wrong, but there’s other guests that expect me to be present.” 
fuck those other guests, you need to take her right here and right now. she can’t just rile you up like this, give you the best makeout session of your life and then end it so abruptly. regardless, she possesses an innate power - she's jihyo. you're completely enthralled and under her control anyway, whether you know it or not. 
she lets out a cold, menacing chuckle and flashes you a provocative grin. she delicately reshapes your disheveled hair and then tends to her own cascade flowing down. you can feel the lingering presnce of her own lips on yours -- slightly swollen and vividly tinted -- and although jihyo remains unfazed by the evidence of her artistry, it's clear she revels in your visible discomposure. if others were to connect the dots, she couldn't care less; if anything, she welcomes it. she's evil, and all you want is more of her. 
so you’ll have to behave for the time being, because who knows what she’s capable of. 
“ah, you’re back park. the food got here ten minutes ago.” samuel says, raising a brow in suspicion.  
the men’s plates are already half eaten, and then there’s two plates that are left untouched on the table. jihyo eyes you, raising her brow before elegantly reaching for her utensils. 
she clears her throat and lies, “lady troubles.” which earns a flush on each of the men’s faces, and a brief apology from samuel. 
the remainder of the dinner becomes utterly unbearable. it’s not just the men engaging in dumb, uninteresting conversations -- which require you to perform an artificial smile, direct focus, and provide meaningless responses - but underneath the table, jihyo teases you. her delicate hand grazes your thigh intermittently. the whole thing is excruciating, causing an overwhelming surge of sexual frustration that genuinely throbs between your legs. the only thing you crave right now is her touch again; you don’t know how many more times you can utter “oh how interesting,” before exploding completely. 
an hour passes and it’s finally time for jihyo to bid her farewells, finally. 
the farewells’ had to take at least ten minutes, since jihyo’s pretty high up there in whatever she does. you never really knew, but it wasn’t your place to ask. 
jihyo unlocks her black porsche, which is remarkably eye-catching, though not as much as the driver. you get in the passenger's side and she’s already inside turning the engine on, one hand on the stick. she backs up smoothly, then gets out of the parking lot quickly. 
the car ride is almost silent for three-quarters, the only thing that pokes at the tension is jihyo’s hand on your thigh. she's driving one handed, it’s a common skill – you drive one handed here and there – but when jihyo does it, your thighs try to ease whatever is going on in between. 
“did you enjoy the meal?” jihyo asks, eyes on the road. 
“yeah, it was great.” 
“mhm,” she hums, then squeezes your flesh a bit. “how was the dessert? did it suit your tastes?” 
you let out a shallow breath, “yeah.” 
“good.” jihyo says, then smiles to herself. “we’re almost home.” 
you can only hum in response, growing impatient. 
jihyo clicks a button and the garage door opens, then drives in slowly. she has to be doing this on purpose, just to test you. you’re going to endure the aching, because at the end of the rainbow there’s always gold, and you’re her good girl. 
when you enter the house, it’s completely dark, then jihyo turns on the light and you have to fight the urge to kiss her again. 
“come,” she orders, turning to walk towards the stairs to the second floor. she's swaying her hips a little on purpose, she must be – or you’re just horny, or both. 
finally, after what seemed like centuries, you make it to her room. she closes the door behind you as you walk in. 
“sit down on the bed for me.” you do as you’re told wihtout hesitation, sitting down on the soft mattress of the king sized bed. the sheets are perfectly set on the bed, so are the blankets and pillows, but something tells you that it won’t be like that by the end of this night. “good girl.” 
she glides towards you, delicately raising your chin and fixing her gaze upon you, like an artist admiring a masterpiece. she revels in the sight of your flushed cheeks, the gentle parting of your lips, and the slight up turn of your brows, all traits that make this vulnerable rendition of you enticingly irresistible. her eyes grow dark, consumed by a yearning that she has now ardently realized; this is what she’s been wanting ever since she first laid eyes on you. 
“clothes off for me sweetheart.” immediately, you start to slip yourself out of the dress. jihyo decides to be generous, helping you out a bit since she’s quite eager herself.  
now, you find yourself perched delicately on the edge of her bed, goosebumps on your skin even as warmth envelops you. you’re nearly exposed, clad only in delicate undergarments that hold jihyo's gaze captive. a sigh escapes her lips, swiftly followed by a mischievous smirk, a telltale sign of her satisfaction.  
jihyo's going to have the meal of her life, nothing she had for dinner that night would ever compare to you. she hasn’t even gotten a taste of your arousal yet, but she already knows. 
“you’re beautiful,” she mutters before closing the distance, kissing you on the lips. you sink into all of it: the hand on your cheek, the knee shifting in between your legs, and simply her touch.  
she maneuvers your body onto the bed, positioning herself on top, ensnaring your legs with her own. with an air of urgency, she kisses you harshly, whisking away the very essence of oxygen from your lungs. she pulls away to see you all hot and heavy, watching the desperate rise and fall of your chest while your eyes meet hers in a gaze brimming with insatiable lust.  
“up,” she mutters, to which to respond by propping yourself on your elbows. she skillfully works away at the clasp of your bra, unclipping it and throwing the garment some place off the bed. “god, you’re so beautiful, you know?” jihyo says before fastening her lips on your neck, sucking violently. 
as your voice becomes stifled, attempting to form words proves worthless under jihyo's intimate touch. she delicately explores your body, her lips grazing your neck, causing shivers to cascade down your spine. the symphony of your helpless moans resonates wonderfully, she just wants every ounce of pleasure you can offer, greedy for all of you. 
“f-fuck, oh my god...” you groan helplessly, squirming under jihyo as her mouth starts to tend to your tits. your hand lands in her hair, gripping tightly as her tongue swirls around your perked up bud. her tongue was great in your mouht, but holy shit it’s ten times better when pushing you near your climax. she hasn’t even touched the ache in between in your legs and you feel like you could cum right then and there. 
jihyo gets up and looks down on you like a predator would with its prey, eyeing your vulnerable, exposed body that she’s ravenous for. there are marks along your neck and chest, jihyo’s artwork looking better than anything a museum could hold. 
she still has her dress on, though it swiftly finds the floor in a few moments. your gaze becomes fixed upon her, witnessing a new prize the further the dress drops down. in the wake of this unveiling, she stands before you, clad only in undergarments—pricey, hot looking ones. your eyes fixate upon her chest and the sight of her tits leaves you wide eyed. the alluring contours of her abdomen draw your attention next, effortlessly accentuating her absolutely unreal, fit body. she leans back slightly and her ass catches your attention, rendering you speechless. everything about her is divine and you find yourself completely engulfed in desire.  
all of this is so unreal and you figure it has to be one of those dreams that gets cut off by the alarm for your morning classes; but no, this is real, it’s especially real as jihyo slides her hand down from the top of your chest to just above your waist. her fingers tease the fabric covering your cunt, tantalizingly grazing it. 
“want me inside baby?” jihyo asks, subtly sticking her fingers under the edges of the fabric. you nod desperately, which makes jihyo laugh. “gosh you’re so wet honey, need me that badly?” she teases, and you can only respond with a weak hum. 
she slides off your panties quickly, you whimper pathetically in response her skin encounters wetness. 
her fingers glide slowly along your folds, easily moving up and down with how aroused you are. she brings her fingers back to her lips, getting a faint taste as your back subconciously arches against the mattress.  
“want me inside?” 
“please.” 
“beg harder.” jihyo chuckles, moving her fingers back to your pussy and teasing you carelessly as she lightly slides up and down the damp folds.“i won’t let you get it that easy. if you want something i want to hear you say it, sugar.” 
you whine, breathing out through your parted lips.  
“please, i need your fingers inside jihyo,” you sigh, voice all nasally and airy. “i want you to fuck me how you want, just make me cum please, you can have your way with me i don’t care. fuck, i'm all yours.” 
“perfect.” she says, then harshly pushes two fingers into your dripping cunt. your head shoots back into the pillow it’s on and your fingers grip the sheets tightly, the curse you cry out practically echoes throughout the room.  
she pounds into you with those slender fingers, maneuvering skillfully inside and out, curving at the right spots and leaving you breathless. tears form at the corners of your eyes, her other hand holds you down, pushing down on the middle of your torso to keep you from squirming so much. 
the amount of pressure she adds to your clit occasionally renders you weak, you’re a moaning, squirming hot mess and jihyo has never been this turned on in years. 
an indescribable sound escapes your lips, a melodic symphony of affirmation and inclination. jihyo's fingers plunge in and out, in and out – delving deeper into the depths of your core with each intoxicating thrust. she retreats momentarily before venturing even further, introducing a third digit into the hypnotic rhythm.  
i'm fucked. 
there was this sensation of being utterly reinvigorated, inside and out, in the most euphoric way that only your moans could describe. you've never been fucked this good, seriously, you can’t remember the last time you’ve been this turned on and goddamn submissive. it's insane how quick and easy jihyo managed to do it. 
the knot in your stomach seems tighter and you’re about to find out just how goddamn well it feels to come undone because of park fucking jihyo. matt's aunt. 
“f-fuck i'm, hnnh i'm so close--” you whimper, voice dying down in your throat, “p-please,”  
“god you’re so beautiful,” jihyo says right before hitting your clit with her palm as she pushes into you. then, with a stronger arch and near sob, you tighten around her fingers and grip the sheets tightly, clinging on for dear life as you reach your high.  
jihyo pulls her fingers out and massages your clit lightly, still stimulating you as you recover. your legs are shaking, still, and your ribs are exposed as you lay there and breathe heavily.  
“be a good girl for me, y/n, you can do that. you will.” jihyo says before slamming into you again with three digits, making you gasp from surprise and pleasure. you've barely had time to recover, and yet jihyo is torturing you yet again. 
it feels like your pussy is being torn to shreds, you can hear the “squelch” and clap with every point of contact. 
you try to say something – exactly what, jihyo doesn’t know or minds because she’s too infatueted with every jolt and twitch of your body – and then you let out another loud cry that sounds something like “fuck,” before your body goes limp, twitching every now and then.  
she pulls her hand out – dampened with your clear arousal – and gets a taste of her middle and pointer finger. she drags her fingertips up along your torso -- sending a shiver down your spine – then brings her damp fingers to your mouth. 
“open.” 
without hesitation, you comply, tasting your own arousal off her skin by swirling your tongue messily. your eyes lock with hers before you suck, going down to the base of where her fingers connect and sliding up until you get all of your arousal off. 
“good girl.” 
she slides down your body, now she’s facing your cunt directly. you shiver in anticipation, a little scared but for the most part turned on one hundred times more than ever. she presses a sweet kiss to your pussy – quite different from how ruthless she was earlier – before she indulges, making you press the back of your hand against your forehead. 
god her tongue, it’s like it’s made to leave girls like you fighting for air. she holds your thighs, pressing her fingers into your flesh as she absolutely devours you. it's not too long before you feel that same knot in your stomach, and this time to leave you screaming she simply flattens her tongue against your sensitivity and sucks on your clit harshly. 
there's tears on your cheeks now, and more start to trail down as jihyo starts to fuck you dumb again. whatever is leaving your mouth is incoherent, practically gibberish as you squirm around. she forcefully spreads your thighs apart – which says a lot about her stretngth considering how you’re getting fucked into oblivion – keeping oyu in place even as you start to turn your body and roll onto your side desperately.  
“you taste so, mmh, good.” jihyo mumbles, “fuck, this is better than the dessert we had.” 
you can barely comprehend what she’s saying because your minds so goddamn foggy and you’re literally sobbing from how overwhelming everything is. but it feels so good, if she stopped you’d be crying for a different reason rather than pleasure. 
jihyo feels your thighs shake beside her head, then feels a hand on her head gripping her hair tightly and pushing down against your cunt before the trembling stops. the cry you let out stops before it leaves your mouth, so you cum with an airy, choked out sob.  
jihyo's gaze fixates upon your pulsing, swollen cunt – dripping with your sweet arousal. she rises to her knees, gracefully straddling you, drawing her attention to the rise and fall of your chest. your disheveled hair frames your features, adorned with a rosy flush and the remnants of tears. a soft smile dances upon her lips, a testament to the mess she’s made. 
jihyo falls down to your tummy, scattering feathery kisses. she ascends to your chest, your neck, and at last, your lips. you kiss her sloppily, weakly reaching to cup her cheek while she traps your top lip between both of hers. she pulls away and fixes up your hair, then rubs her thumb along your tear stained skin. 
“you did so good for me baby,” she assures, watching you sniffle. “are you alright?” 
“yeah.” you mumble weakly, smiling softly at her. “i just, need to relax.” you chuckle softly before jihyo pecks your lips again. 
“i’ll help you clean up, stay here pretty.” jihyo says, rubbing your rib with her thumb softly. 
-- 
the two of you wake up an hour before lunch the next morning. jihyo rubs your thigh with her hand, massaging it to reduce the soreness. she insists that you two get up since matt is coming over in a few hours and it takes a while for you to get down the stairs without falling – jihyo did a great job, your legs are wobbly and aching– but nonetheless you make it downstairs to the kitchen. 
jihyo lets you set your head on your cross arms over the counter since you’re so drowsy, she laughs and presses a kiss before fetching ingredients for lunch. you watch her with tired eyes; her muscles flex and tense as she assembles the ingredients for the sandwiches, leaving you stupidly mesmerized. 
you get up and stretch your arms out, then walk over to the older woman. a short giggle leaves your lips as you wrap your hands around jihyo’s waist, she laughs wholeheartedly. 
“did you need something?” 
you kiss her head and linger before responding, “no, you just looked good from the back.” 
“i have to cook lunch, matt is coming home in an hour.” jihyo says, turning to face you, lips inches away from yours.  
as you carefully adjust the stovetop temperature to a low, your gaze lands on jihyo, prompting a mischievous smile to play upon your lips. your hands rest on her waist, you turn her body to face you, drawing her nearer with a subtle bite of your lip. jihyo rolls her eyes, a familiar exchange between you both, before your lips meet, you smile into it as you always do. 
jihyo guides you towards the kitchen island, never relenting on the heat of her kisses. an involuntary groan escapes your lips as she playfully bites your lower lip, igniting subtle throbbing sensations in you. her lips, feather-light, wander along your jawline, slowly tracing the curves of your face like a breeze meeting petals of a flower.  
mindful of your pleasure, you tilt your head back, granting her unrestricted access. her tongue traces your sensitive skin, a captivating and sensuous touch that sends shivers down your spine. jihyo has this power of leaving you breathless in seconds. in the moments between kisses, delightful giggles escape jihyo's lips. 
“you’re such a--” another kiss to your jaw, “--tease.” jihyo says unbelievably.  
“and you’re the one who’s ah- enjoying this.” 
jihyo squeezes your ass gently before kissing your lips again, backing you into the marble of the counter and placing her hands on the edge as she smiles into you. 
lost in pleasure and eagerness, the two of oyu fail to hear the sound of the door being unlocked, opened, and then closed. jihyo's hand slides just barely under your shirt, tickling your ribcage with the brush of her fingers. you wrap your arms around her neck and pull her closer, turning your head a little more to get a better taste, to get more of jihyo. 
“um, y/n?” a voice interrupts the two of you, and it’s too familiar.  
it unfolds like a movie scene; you and jihyo turn to find matt standing there, gripping a backpack strap tightly, his visage a mix of appalled and perplexed. in a rush of apprehension, both of you instinctively release each other, striving to create as much distance as possible while smoothing down stray strands of hair and meticulously adjusting wrinkled garments. 
“matt,” jihyo says, trying to recompose herself—but the blush on her cheeks doesn’t die down whatsoever. “you’re home early. i thought you were coming back at 1?” 
“yeah...” he says awkwardly, embarassed and flushed as he tries to avoid any eye contact. “i was just going to say hi and um, work on homework.” 
“alright, i was just making dinner with--” jihyo clears her throat, “y/n.” 
matt looks between the two of you, narrowing his eyes and sighing.  
“how long have you two been... doing this?” 
you and jihyo exchange a look before you decide to speak up this time, “let’s all sit down at the table and talk about this, how about that?” 
now, you’re trying to form the words to explain that you’ve fucked some kid's aunt the night before, and jihyo’s trying to do properly conjure up a sentence that explains the marks on your neck. 
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Can we please get some milf Abby or Ellie the lesbians who like older women are in a drought
💘
Headcannons: milf!abby anderson x reader
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part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4
☆ Milf Abby who was divorced and who had full custody of her 4-year-old daughter.
☆ Milf Abby who worked as a lawyer and got her daughter into the best schools.
☆ Milf Abby who went to a parent teacher meeting, to meet her daughters’ new teacher.
☆ Milf Abby who met you for the first time and thought you were the prettiest thing she’d ever seen.
☆ Milf Abby who stood behind everyone else because you made her shy.
☆ Milf Abby whose palms felt sweaty when you walked close to the direction where she was standing.
☆ Milf Abby whose heart rate increased when you asked the parents “any questions?” with a smile.
☆ Milf Abby who went home that night and stared at the ceiling because she just saw an angel.
☆ Milf Abby who asks her daughter about you the next morning.
“What’s she like?” Abby asked as she placed the plate of scrambled eggs in front of Aubrey.
“she’s nice” the little girl started. “she always likes my drawings, and she tells funny stories!”
A small smile appeared on Abby’s face.
Pretty and funny, huh?
“she’s pretty too” Aubrey said with her mouth full off eggs. Abby chuckled at that.
“Your right baby, she is”
☆ Milf Abby who almost shit herself when Aubrey told you that she finds you pretty.
“You did what?” Abby said frantically.
“I told my teacher that you said she was pretty”
Abby groaned, her large hand coming to rub her temples.
“Baby you aren’t supposed to tell that to people, it was a secret”
“Yeah, it was red ones”
“But Heathers dad brought her flowers, and that’s not a secret”
“what?”
“roses?”
“I think so” she spoke
☆ Milf Abby who gets jealous even though she barley knows anything about you.
☆ Milf Abby who watches Heathers dad bring you snacks almost daily when she picks up Aubrey.
☆ Milf Abby who wants to vomit every time you smile at him.
☆ Milf Abby who realizes she had to make a move.
☆ Milf Abby who was nervous because it’s been a while since she’s asked someone on a date.
☆ Milf Abby who writes you a letter and sends it with her daughter.
“My mommy sent you this” Aubrey ran to you with a white envelope. You thanked her, as you opened the letter, eyes widening at what it had to say:
“Hi, are you Tennessee because you’re the only ten I see.
I’m sorry I know that was inappropriate I didn’t know what to say.
Would you like to go on a date with me? I promise no cheesy pickup lines”
☆ Milf Abby who almost jumps out of her car when she sees you walking towards her.
☆ Milf Abby who rolls down the window and tries to act cool.
“Sup” she said, but soon cringed.
You giggled “I’d love to go on a date with you Miss Anderson”
“Call me Abby”
“Abby… I’d love to go out with you”
A grin spread onto the blondes face.
“Friday?”
“Friday”
☆ Milf Abby who fist bumps the air because she’s just that excited.
☆ Milf Abby who almost cancelled because she was so nervous.
☆ Milf Abby who asks her 4-year-old outfit advice.
“What about this?”
“No”
“Aubrey you can’t keep saying no”
“But I don’t like it”
☆ Milf Abby who kisses her daughter goodbye as she bought you a bigger bouquet of roses.
☆ Milf Abby who takes you to a fancy restaurant to impress you.
☆ Milf Abby who finds out you were 20 years younger than her.
Abby blinked a couple of times at the information.
“26?”
“yeah… do I not look my age you?” you asked with a raised eyebrow.
“You really don’t”
☆ Milf Abby who enjoys the date more than she intended to.
☆ Milf Abby who almost combusts when you gave her a kiss on the cheek.
☆ Milf Abby who goes home that night in denial that she liked someone so young.
Age is nothing but a number, but you were years younger. What were you doing with someone like her? Why her? Why not someone your age? What happens if Abby grows so old that you become bored?
☆ Milf Abby who ghosts you for 5 months.
☆ Milf Abby who avoids looking at you when she gets her daughter from school.
☆ Milf Abby who ignores your texts because she thought you deserve someone better.
☆ Milf Abby’s daughter who gave her an awaking.
“Can you stop crying at night mommy? It makes noise”
Abby looked up from the stove.
“you hear that?”
“Yes”
A few seconds of silence passed before Aubrey spoke again. “You made my teacher sad”
“she’s sad?”
“yes and she asked me about you”
“and what did you say?”
“Nothing, you said it was a secret” Abby groaned at Aubrey’s response
“you need to stop pushing people away because you’re insecure”
Abby looked at Aubrey with wide eyes.
She was right, because Abby was so insecure she’s losing a perfect girl because she was scared. How sure was she that you would leave her? How sure was she that you were only using her? Maybe you were the one.
“Where did you hear those words?”
“from grandpa” she said with a shoulder shrug.
“He said that to Nora”
Your back was facing the door as you were writing something on the board.
“of course he did”
☆ Milf Abby who goes to your classroom the next day with flowers.
“I’m sorry” she spoke. She watched you flinched as you turned around.
“what?”
“I’m sorry for just disappearing and not saying anything”
“ok” was all you said as you turned back around to continue writing.
Abby walked towards you with long strides.
“no- no don’t say ok please- give me a chance”
she watched you sigh as you turned around:
“look Miss Anderson-“
“Abby”
“Miss Anderson” you said through gritted teeth.
“It’s ok, this should have not happened”
“Don’t say that”
“Let’s move on, I’ll pretend this never happened” you said with a fake smile on your face.
“god you’re so-“  before Abby could even finish her sentence she grabbed your face, and caught your lips in a kiss.
☆ Milf Abby who was surprised when you kissed her back.
☆ Milf Abby who whimpered when you pulled away.
“What can I do to fix this?” she spoke as she held your face.
“take me out on a date again”
a smile spread on the blondes face: “yeah I’ll do that”
☆ Milf Abby who realizes you won’t make it easy for her.
☆ Milf Abby who was willing to work for this relationship because you were worth it.
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sunarc · 2 months
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Synopsis: Falling for gojo was one of your worst mistakes, but loving him when you know he could never love you back was an even bigger mistake.
CW:gojo is an ass, fuck boy gojo,angsty, situationship, oral f receiving, alittle blood not during sex, ownership, reader gets jealous, reader is a bit possessive, fuck boy gojo, 5.1k words
A/N: this is for @honeybleed ‘s RnB collab! i am super late but yeah lol
tags: @eveningatthemoviesnetwork
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Being around Satoru made your palms sweaty. It was embarrassing to say, but you couldn’t help the bubble of emotions that seemed to burst inside of you when he was near. His presence alone could send your heart on a never-ending race. His eyes could make you melt within seconds with just one look. You always found yourself gazing into them, wondering what secrets they held. They’re so bright, so blue, and so pure. His eyes alone could cause emotions you had never experienced before. You could stare at them for days, stuck in a blue trance that you never wanted to escape. You knew he wasn’t good for you. You had told yourself you needed to let go a thousand times before. When you first laid in his bed, allowed his fingers to graze so delicately against your skin, and allowed his lips to press against your body with lustful hunger, you knew he’d be trouble. You knew he was bad for you when he held your body close to his, caressed your skin with his tender touch after a steamy session, and told you he enjoyed being friends with you. Yet somehow you continuously found yourself being drawn into him, constantly breathing in his musk while he held you close, constantly pushing your feelings away just so you could have one more intimate moment with him.
‘This is the last time’ It was a mantra that went into one ear and out the other. You could never seem to follow through with it whenever you found yourself wrapped in his arms.
You sat silently in the backseat of Getou’s car, fiddling with the wheel of your brand-new skateboard. You weren’t a skater. You had never stepped foot on a board before. It was embarrassing to say, but you had only brought a board because you thought it would give you more time to spend with Satoru. You were overwhelmed with nerves, practically holding your breath the entire ride. You felt like an overfilled glass waiting to run over. One little drop, and you’d spill like a glass of milk. This was the first time you were skating. You had only agreed to go because Satoru promised to teach you. You recalled his bright eyes shining with excitement as you asked. The way his lips curled upward into a sly smile as he pulled your naked body closer to his made you melt. You wanted to be covered in the warmth of the light that seemed to radiate off of him.
“Something on your mind?” Shoko asked, blowing smoke in your direction.
You coughed and waved the cloud of cigarette smoke away before giving her an angry look.
“Just nervous is all,” you whispered.
“Don’t be nervous, skating is like walking, anyone can do it." Satoru turned around from the front seat with a bright smile and chipper voice.
"Oh, that's not-” Getou started but was soon cut off by Satoru’s intoxicating voice.
“And besides, if you break a bone, then you’ll officially be a part of the skater community,” he said as if it were an initiation into the skater world.
Shoko nodded her head hesitantly. "Well, I can agree with that part. The first time I broke a bone was after I landed a 720 flip, the best bone break I’ve had to this day.”
You sat nervously listening to the three of them share past stories of the bones they had broken. If you weren’t nervous before, you were damn near shitting yourself now.
“Thanks, guys, this conversation helped so much,” you said, sarcasm dripping in your voice.
Gojo turned around, giving you a smirk that made your heart flutter.
“Don’t worry, if you fall I’ll be there to catch you,” he gave you a wink.
The smallest things could make your heart feel like it was about to explode. You bit your lip in a failed attempt to hide the smile that was forming. He was like a burst of sunshine through a terrible storm, always there to make things better. You hated admitting it, and you’d never actually say it out loud, but you were in love. Head over heels in love with Satoru. Being around him made you feel like you were floating on cloud nine bursting with an overwhelming feeling of devotion. You could only pray that he felt the same. You were stuck in an intricate web of wonder. Did he love you the way you loved him? The way he’d make you feel when he was around screamed yes, but everything seemed to lead you in the opposite direction. You couldn’t bring yourself to ask him for the nth time what the two of you were, only to get the same reply of “We’re just chilling,” paired with a passionate kiss to take your mind off of it. You didn’t want to 'chill'. You wanted passion. You wanted the kind of love shared between Achilles and Patroclus, where he’d walk for miles wailing your name because he craved you in your absence. The kind of love like Orpheus and Eurydice, where he’d travel to the depths of hell just to bring you back to him. You wanted the kind of love where he would memorize the thrumming of your heartbeat so well that he’d recognize you just from the sound of it alone. You craved his love almost in an animalistic way, you craved him.
“We’re here people.” Getou’s voice pulled you from your manic thoughts.
You looked around, observing every person in the park. Everyone seemed so professional compared to you. You got out of the car, standing to the side, awkwardly swaying side to side holding your board. Your nerves were getting the best of you as you compared yourself to those around you. Their scratched and dirtied skateboards mocked your pristine, untouched board. You didn’t belong here. You felt anxious watching everyone with experience skate around you.
"Breathe, babe.” Shoko leaned next to you on the car. "You look like you're about to have a heart attack."
You let out a soft laugh. Satoru and Suguru had run off to start skating, leaving you and Shoko behind.
“I feel like an unprepared freshman entering high school. Everyone seems so good here,” you exclaimed “I feel like I'm going to embarrass myself in front of him” 
Shoko already knew about the ‘him’ you were speaking of. She had warned you a million times before to be careful with him, and every time you just brushed it off as her being too worrisome.
“I had a feeling,” she said, lighting her cigarette “You were sweating like you were in a sauna in the car.”
You scoffed and brushed your palms against your pants.
“I was just a little hot!" you exclaimed, making an excuse.
“The windows were down."
“I just want to impress him,” you whined childishly.
She rolled her eyes.
“You want to impress the same guy who just left you in a place you’ve never been before?”
You turned around to see the man of the hour mingling with Suguru. He was poking the cheek of a tall, blond-haired guy who looked as if he was completely over the entire interaction. You turned back to Shoko with an eager smile.
“He’s just excited. He’ll pay more attention when he’s teaching me." You excused his behavior as you grabbed her hand, dragging her over to the two.
You walked over to the chaos, reminding yourself to take deep breaths.
“Hi,” you chimed in, embarrassed at how your voice somehow cracked.
Satoru turned to you, giving you a welcoming smile, and from just a glance, you felt a whirlwind of emotions.
"Hi." His voice was soothing.
It was just the two of you. No intimidating skaters, no Shoko reminding you of how he isn't good for you, just him and his gentle voice.
“Ready to skate pretty?” The nickname made you swoon.
You nodded your head eagerly. Satoru grabbed your hand, pulling you away from the group. You followed behind him with a longing smile. You felt like the main character in a movie living out your dreams. His hand was so soft. He was warm. You never wanted to let him go.
“Welcome to my world, pretty girl. You ready to become one with the board?” He asked as he held your face with a serious gaze.
You were in a somewhat secluded area of the park. You nodded your head, too focused on the way his eyes glistened in the sun to focus on his words.
"Alright, get on the board,” he said, letting you go.
You were in an empty space away from what you considered experts, but Satoru somehow considered novices. Geto and Shoko were off skating doing tricks you could only dream of.
“Will you hold my hand?” Your voice was soft as if you were afraid of his answer.
Gojo was a kind person, one of the friendliest guys you had ever been with. You knew he’d say yes, but you somehow feared a reaction from him anyway.
“Of course,” he said, slipping his hand into yours, his eyes watching you steadily. His smile was soft as he watched you. You stepped onto the shaky board. You felt like a baby, learning to walk for the first time. As you were gathering the courage to place your other foot on the board, you slipped and fell into him. His hand wrapped around your waist as he caught you. You were pressed against his chest, gripping his arm tightly.
“I told you I’d catch you,” he whispered gently.
This was the Satoru you had fallen in love with. The one who would catch you no matter what. He held you up straight on the board, holding both of your hands.
“We’re going to move now, okay?” He spoke lowly. His voice was comforting. You felt like you could do anything with him around.
He took slow steps, moving you on the board. You wobbled, leaning into him ever so often. You let out a soft laugh when you picked up speed a bit.
“You’re doing it,” he laughed with you, proud of your accomplishments. “I bet you’ll be a better skater than me in no time,” he whispered the words as if they were meant for you and you alone.
You smiled with a wordless reply.
"Satoru,” you heard Getou call for him.
Satoru’s eyes were trained on you, keeping you balanced as he replied quickly, “Hold on."
You held onto him as he walked with you on the skateboard, allowing you to get used to being on the board.
“I’m gonna let go soon, okay?" he spoke “Don’t panic, just keep your balance and breathe.” His voice was steady as he spoke to you.
You felt so at ease listening to his gentle words. Confidence surged through you as he gently pulled away, setting you free to sail. You let out nervous laughter as you continued rolling. You stood up straight, feeling braver.
“I’m doing it, I’m really doing it, Toru,” you called out to him, excitement racing through your blood. You turned your head in the direction he had previously been, searching for his smiling face, only to see him gone. Your wide eyes filled with disappointment as you turned your head, searching for him.
“Satoru?” You called out for him.
Your attention was so focused on the blue-eyed boy missing in action that you failed to see the upcoming railing blocking your path. Before you knew it, your body was going one way and the skateboard the other. You lay face-first on the ground, groaning from a mixture of pain and embarrassment. Your mind could barely focus on the pain from your bleeding knee due to fear that he had seen you fall. You sat up, watching your skateboard slowly roll away from you. What a great day to wear shorts without knee pads. Shoko walked over to you and held out her hand, which you gladly took. Your eyes searched for the boy who had failed to catch you. Your heart felt as if it had been sliced into pieces once you saw him. He was far off, standing with Getou and a girl with short brown hair. She was, in simpler terms, gorgeous. Gojo threw his head back, laughing at something she was saying. Not only was she pretty, but she was also funny.
“So much for being there to catch you,” Shoko grumbled as she helped you stand straight.
“Who’s that girl?” you asked.
Your eyes stared woefully at the two. It wasn’t like you were jealous, of course, he could have friends who were girls.
“You’re bleeding are you okay?”
“She’s really pretty." You spoke, lost in thought.
“It’s not too bad I have some bandages in my bag.”
“Do you think he saw?”
“I don’t know; let me check.”
Shoko turned to look at the three mingling. Gojo was leaning into the girl, smirking softly as she spoke to him, never breaking eye contact. His hand moved to push a stray hair behind her ear, and you watched as a soft blush appeared on her cheeks. You felt like you were third-wheeling with how intimate their conversation seemed to be. Getou was long gone skating with other friends, leaving the two behind. Her eyes stared into his with that same look you knew all too well. Those damn blue eyes were trapping her in the same way they did you.
“She’s really pretty.”
“I wonder where I’ve heard that before.”
“Do you think she’s a good skater?” You wanted to tear your eyes away from them, but you couldn’t pull away from the sight of him flirting right in front of you.
“Stop comparing yourself." You fell silent at Shoko’s words, “Her beauty does not invalidate yours.”
You looked down, ashamed of your jealousy. You couldn’t help the anger and jealousy that boiled inside of you watching him mingle with someone who wasn’t you. Shoko wiped your knee clean as she continued her rant.
“Stop letting his validation define your worth,” she whispered.
Disappointment was laced in her voice. It wasn’t that she was particularly disappointed in you. She was disappointed in how you completely lost yourself in Gojo. He had somehow controlled your every waking being. His passions were your passions, and his dislikes were yours. You were engulfed in the desire to be everything he wanted, yet there he was right before your eyes, proving to you yet again that you were nothing more than just a pretty girl who gave it up to him.
“I’m sorry.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you watched Shoko sit next to you.
“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to yourself,” she said as she lit another cigarette. “And don’t forget to forgive yourself; that’s the most important part.”
You sat in silence, watching everyone around you. Shoko promised to stay with you for the rest of the day because she was tired of skating. She sat scrolling mindlessly with her head on your shoulder. Your eyes scanned the park, never failing to land on the boy you just couldn’t seem to get out of your head. His attention was all over the girl you had deemed a goddess in disguise. She was pretty, funny, and a damn good skater. You watched mesmerized at the tricks she was pulling off.
"Damn, she’s good,” you whispered.
“That could be you if you want to practice some more, don’t worry, I’ll actually be here," Shoko commented
You sat for a moment, contemplating the idea. Skating wasn’t really your thing. You were slightly disappointed that you were just coming to this realization after paying damn near 100 dollars for your board.
“I actually don’t think skating is for me,” you admitted.
Shoko hummed in response, too engulfed by a TikTok video.
The sun was finally going down when Getou walked over skateboard in hand.
“You two kids ready to go?” You nodded your head like a child as you stood with Shoko.
"Satoru,” he called across the nearly empty park.
You peeked behind him to see Gojo whipping his phone out, handing it to the girl who had captured his attention for the day. You rolled your eyes and began limping back to the car. The pain of the scrape had eased, but you still wanted to clean it when you got home.
“Need help?” Shoko walked up behind you.
“No thanks,” you said softly, wanting to be alone for a bit.
She patted your back and gave you a soft smile before running ahead to jump onto Geto’s back.
"Asshole!” he yelled as he stumbled, trying to find balance.
You smiled at the two and continued your slow pace.
“Pretty girl, wait up." You turned around to see a smiling Gojo chasing you.
You silently cursed yourself at the feeling of your heart skipping a beat because of the nickname he always called you.
You rolled your eyes before turning around. You knew he’d catch up to you with his long legs.
“Hey, what happened? Why are you limping?” His voice was filled with worry.
You stopped in your tracks, feeling the rage suddenly boiling over inside of you.
“Oh wow, now you care." You practically yelled.
He flinched from the sudden outburst. He had never really heard or seen you so angry.
“You promised to teach me how to skate.” Your pointer finger stabbed him in the chest. “You promised to stick with me. You promised to catch me if I fell,” you continued.
His mouth hung open, too surprised to form words to speak.
“I was bleeding from my knee and you were too busy flirting to even notice.”
He stared silently, allowing you to continue.
“You didn’t pay attention to me, not once while we were here, and you now have the nerve to ask what happened?!” You scoffed, rolling your eyes, and began limping towards the car.
Gojo grabbed your hand, pulling you back to him.
"Wait, I’m sorry.” He gave you a soft pout.
You hated the way his wide eyes had such an effect on you. “I shouldn’t have abandoned you today. I’m a jerk, I’m an asshole, and whatever name you want to call me.” His fingers rubbed circles into your skin as he attempted to ease your anger.
“You are an asshole and a jerk. I’m glad you noticed.” You made an attempt to pull away, but he held your wrist tight.
“Let me make it up to you.”
“How are you going to make it up to me?”
“Come back to my place, and I’ll show you.” His arm wrapped around the small of your back, pulling you in close.
You were breathing in his familiar scent. Your heart was beating so hard in your chest that it was impossible for him not to hear.
“I don’t care about any of your sleazy tricks, Gojo.”
You pulled away.
“Gojo? What happened to Toru or Pretty Boy?” He was chasing after you pulling you back into him. You didn’t want to feed his ego, not when you were seething with anger.
“Listen, come over tonight, no sleazy tricks, no asshole or jerk Gojo, just me, you, and whatever you want to do. I care about you, and I’m so sorry I made you feel like I didn't. Let me make it up to you.”
He stared at you with a pleading look. His wide eyes held so much desperation as if his world would fall apart if you said no.
"Please,” he begged, waiting for your reply.
You rolled your eyes and let out a deep sigh.
“Fine Gojo. I’ll come over.”
You wanted to grab the words as soon as they left your mouth. You should’ve said no. You should’ve stood your ground. You should have made him feel the way he made you feel when he openly flirted in front of you. You wanted to scream because, for some reason, you could never pull away from him. It was as if he held a magnet that you couldn’t help but pull into.
You sat silently in the car, preparing yourself to sit angrily in Gojo’s home. Why even go at this point? Perhaps you knew you were never really angry. More so, you were jealous. Why couldn’t it be you that he wanted to be with all the time? Why couldn’t he whisper sweet nothings into your ear that made you giggle like a schoolgirl? Why couldn’t he just reciprocate your love? It wasn’t that he ‘couldn’t’ he just wouldn’t do it. Part of you knew that, but some part of you still wanted to try.
When Getou pulled up to Gojo’s house, you tried to ignore the disappointed headshake Shoko gave you. You wanted to ignore the insistent feeling of dread bubbling inside you, screaming to get back in the car. You had planned on standing your ground. Of course, you weren’t going to sleep with him. Last time was the last time, and that was final.
“Get comfy, let me go grab some new bandages for your knee.”
You sat on his couch, taking steady breaths. Every time you came here you felt as if it were the first time. Your palms were sweating profusely. Your heart felt like it was seconds away from jumping out of your chest.
Gojo came back with a first-aid kit. His touch was so soft. You couldn't even look at him when you had so many emotions bubbling inside you.
"Gojo,” your call of his name was followed by complete silence as he focused on rubbing ointment on your knee.
"Gojo,” you called out to him louder. You know he could hear you.
"Toru,” you groaned, annoyed with his silence.
“Yes pretty?” He looked up at you with a playful smile.
You give him a pout.
“I- I need to say something." Your face is filled with frustration. You had to get this off your chest.
“I’m all ears.” He finished bandaging your knee and placed a kiss on it to top it off. He sat crisscrossed in front of you, his hand gently rubbing up and down your calf while giving you all his attention.
"Um, well.” You didn't know how to start.
Your attention was all over the place. His hand was still massaging your calf. Your thoughts were tracing back to the events of the day.
“What do you want from me?" You looked down, frustration covering your face.
"How can I show you I love you and you finally understand?” You clenched your jaw while unconsciously caving into yourself.
"I will always love you how I do, but I need you to feel something more for me than just lust." You hadn’t realized the tears that were beginning to fall. Your emotions felt like they were overpowering you. You wanted to scream, Why won't he choose you? You felt so small like the room was slowly growing smaller. You wrapped your arms around yourself, suddenly feeling so vulnerable—too vulnerable.
“I wish you needed me. I want to be your number one,” you whimpered.
Gojo’s palm softly grabbed your face, wiping away your endless stream of tears.
"I—please let me make it up to you. I care about you so much, pretty,” he said, pulling you in for a kiss.
His lips felt like heaven. He was intoxicating. You breathed him in like a drug that you were unknowingly addicted to. His hands dragged hot trails on your skin as he deepened the kiss. It was filled with fire and passion you could've sworn he was telling you he loved you with his touch alone. You hated how you fell so easily for him. One touch alone, and he left you feeling weak in the knees. You wanted to pull away. When his hands dragged you to his room, you wanted to pull away because last time was the last time. When he dragged his lips down your naked body, apologizing with each kiss, you wanted to pull away. When his fingers peeled your panties down while his eyes focused on your face, watching your every reaction, you wanted to pull away. When his tongue licked between your folds, you knew you were far too deep to pull away.
“Spread your legs for me, baby, let me show you how much I care.” His voice was silky as his warm tongue pressed against your core. You arched your body into him, loving the way his tongue massaged your warmth. Your moans grew louder as his pace quickened. Gojo was eating you out as if he had something to prove. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling your body impossibly closer. His tongue lapped at your clit at an unrelenting pace. His groans vibrated against your core, leaving you a complete mess. Your hands gripped the sheet desperately, attempting to gather yourself. You were so close.
"Fuck, please- “ Your whimpers were cut off by another moan. Gojo was taking every part of you. The way he slurped your juices left you feeling embarrassed. How could he make you fall apart for him so easily each and every time? He pressed wet kisses to your thighs in between swallowing your essence messily. Your hands moved to his shoulder, clawing desperately. You were stuck between needing him and wanting nothing to do with him.
“Fuck, Toru, I hate you so much” you whined as you grew closer to your orgasm.
It was true. You hated him, every ounce of him. The way he made you feel, the way he could have you wrapped around his finger within seconds, the way he could have you trembling just from his tongue.
You felt like you had no control over your body. You were at his mercy, constantly giving yourself away to him.
"Wait, w-wait Toru” you whined 
He pulled away with a deep breath. His face was drenched with your juices.
“You did so well for me, pretty girl.”
He crawled up to be at eye level with you. His lips pressed against yours, and once again, you were trapped in his soft presence. His hand gripped your waist, holding you in place while he positioned himself at your entrance. You could feel the beating of his heart against your own. It was like a drum to a song you had memorized over and over before.
“You still mad at me?” His voice was lower than before.
Of course, you were. One little orgasm wouldn’t change how you felt. You nodded your head. He rolled his tip against your clit earning a moan. His cock dipped into you, stretching you out with each inch.
“How about now?”
You couldn’t focus on his question. Your mouth hung open as you tried to adjust to his size.
He sat up and pressed your legs to your chest.
“That's okay, baby. Just lay back and let me make you feel good.” His voice was sultry.
Gojo rocked his cock in and out of you, smiling at the way you moaned. His eyes stared down at where the two of you met, captivated by the way you sucked him in.
“That’s it, pretty girl. Take this cock. So good for me.” His hands pushed down onto your thighs, folding you so he could have easier access.
The feeling of his cock gliding against your walls left you speechless. Your eyes were rolling back with each thrust. You felt butterflies in your stomach as he whispered how you were his good girl.
His.
Something about that word made you melt.
“Tell me who’s pussy this is."
"Yours,” you moaned, as if it were engraved in you to acknowledge yourself as his.
“It’s your Toru, always,” you whimpered.
You fell for him all over again.
This is the last time. You knew it was a lie.
His hips moved in circular motions as he pushed himself into you.
“You like that, huh?” He knew exactly how to make you feel good. He knew your body better than you.
“You like it when I fuck my pussy, don’t you?” he grunted. "Yeah, you do. Take this cock, baby, it’s all yours.”
Your heart fluttered. You felt a sense of possession as the words spilled past his lips.
"Mine,” you whispered. The words were probably hard for Gojo to hear over his grunts as he plunged his cock into you. “All mine,” you whimpered.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum,” he groaned. “You want my cum, baby? Want me to fill my pretty pussy to the brim?” He said, looking down at your shaking figure.
You were far too gone, still reeling from the possessive words being shared between the two of you.
Gojo thrusted into you sloppily as he neared his orgasm. His thumb circled your clit urging you to another orgasm.
“Make a mess for me, let me see how sloppy my pussy gets.”
You moaned loudly, shaking and shivering, as you were overcome by your orgasm. Your eyes squeezed shut as your juices sprayed against Gojo’s abs while he continued thrusting into you.
"Oh, Fuck Toru,” you whimpered.
Your watery eyes opened to see Gojo’s lust-filled gaze. His lip was pulled between his teeth as he fucked roughly into you, chasing after his orgasm.
“Cum inside of me, Toru. I need it, please." Your pleads were all Gojo needed before spurting his seed into you, whimpering about how good you were for him.
He leaned down into the crook of your neck as his thrust came to a halt. Your arms wrapped around him, holding him tight. His body felt so warm on top of you. Your mind went from a fucked out blur to a mess of thoughts. Your love-struck eyes gazed down at his still form with realization. You were more than just a body he could fuck; at least that’s what you were constantly telling yourself. It was so easy to say these things, but once his lips were on yours and his hands pulling you free from your clothes, you couldn’t find it in yourself to put these words into action.
Gojo pulled out of you to lay beside you. He pulled you so you were resting on his chest. You lay silently, staring into the darkness of the room.
You knew this had to be the last time. You knew you had to let go, and you knew you had to forgive yourself for taking so long to let go. You knew it was a bad religion to be in love with the brightest shade of blue. When he pulled out his phone to text the pretty girl from the skate park, asking to hang out with a winky face, you knew he’d never crave your love the way you did.
576 notes · View notes
webslingingslasher · 1 year
Text
Wait a minute, who are you?
Pairing: Peter Parker (mcu) x Reader
Genre: fluff,angst
Word Count: 6.5K
Summary: Peter's been hiding something...
Warnings: mentions of sex, small talk of an old creepy man being an old creepy man
(Part 2 of CRUSH but can be read alone.)
-----------------------------------
Why was Peter Parker refusing you?
Scratch that, why is your boyfriend rejecting you?
He surely had no issue letting you crawl into his lap after placing the computer in his lap to the left side of his bed, and he definitely didn’t have an issue when his raised eyebrows in question were silenced when you pulled him in for a bruising kiss by the collar of his muted flannel.
But funny enough when you started to trail your hands down to meet the skin beneath the thick cotton, just aching to slide your hands under his shirt and over his toned muscle, and rest your cool palms on his hot, beating chest, his hands caught yours in one.
You almost froze into the kiss, he’s never denied you like this.
You steadied your movements and when he noticed your lack of exploration he loosened the hold on your wrists, your hands this time traveling back up, taking a moment to ease him into your next move. You pulled back for a quick breath and resumed, this time you brought your hands down to the buttons of his flannel, you were barely able to pop one on his chest before he held each hand in his.
Peter pulled away from you, his one word was a whisper.
“No.”
Your turn to be confused, because, what?
“No?”
“No.” He shook his head lightly.
“Can I ask why?” He’s never stopped you before, but maybe he’s just not in the mood.
“I just don’t want to tonight.” Peter shrugged his shoulders casually.
But Peter does want to, it’s just that he has a black and purple bruise on quite literally the entire right side of his body. There was no avoiding the questioning, he’s gotten pretty lucky so far, nothing too concerning on his face or body that he couldn’t just play off. But this time he couldn’t think of a story that could justify that, and sometimes when he’s battered he’s had to wait until it was dark in his room, the only light is the moon peaking in the blinds. Or he would have to switch positions for the night, just to get you to keep from looking his way.
And Peter knows it wrong, and one day he’s gonna get caught in something that makes him confess before he’s ready and it will be a bigger issue than it should, but part of him likes that he’s just Peter with you and even though he knows he’s making the wrong decision he doesn’t want to tell you anything until you ask.
You tilt your head at him and purse your lips, trying to see if he was playing at something.
He looked genuine.
“Okay. Do you want to keep making out or do something else? I saw Battleship in your cupboard the other day, I’m sure I could kick your ass.” You grinned at him and played with the lapels of his collar while you waited for a response.
“Hmm, makeout please. Then kick my ass.”
He pulled you in for a kiss, and you tried to be respectful of his no. But old habits die hard and when lost in a daze of Peter’s tongue grazing your own you ground your hips into his. In an act of apology you placed your hand on his waist and squeezed lightly, you pulled from him slightly to mutter an apology.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean-”
Peter’s face scrunched up, almost like you hurt him.
You glanced at the hand on his waist and grabbed again, he grunted this time. You directed your gaze at him.
“What’s wrong?”
“Hm? Nothing, you’re good. C’mere.”
You pulled your head back.
“No. What’s wrong?”
“Nothings wrong, I don’t know what you mean.”
You narrowed your eyes and squeezed. Peter did his best attempt at a poker face but you did it tightly this time, and even you saw the wobble of his lip in betrayal.
“That doesn’t hurt?”
“No.”
“Bullshit.”
“I’m fine, baby.” He leaned in for a kiss, if you didn’t know better you would think it’s a distraction.
You squeezed again and this time he removed your hand from him and placed it on his thigh.
“Then let me see.” You tried to move the shirt up but his hand laid on top of yours.
“See what? Nothing is there.”
“Then let me see.”
“No.”
“Peter!” You whined his name, why was he acting like this?
“Y/N.” He kept his tone neutral, not a good sign. He was getting annoyed.
You wanted to see how far you could push him.
“Are you sore?”
He sighed, he knew in his heart he should’ve just taken up the offer for Battleship.
“No, I’m fine. I promise.”
“Are you hurt?”
“I just said I was fine, baby.”
You pouted at his claim, it was a bold face lie and you both knew it. In a quick moment you raced to throw his shirt up but he locked his hands around your wrists quicker than you could finish the plan.
“Stop.” He was serious this time, no more playing.
You knew he was over the interrogation by his grip, it didn’t hurt but it was tight. He was subtly hinting he would throw you off him if you didn’t stop.
Peter knows you’re confused and probably a little hurt because you knew he was lying and worse, hiding something he didn’t want you to see. He wonders what you’re thinking, if he’s sore from a new workout, or if he has hickeys all over he doesn’t want you to see, or maybe you were really just thinking why he didn’t trust you.
You held your hands up in surrender, this wasn’t fun anymore.
“Okay, I’m sorry. I won’t ask again, maybe it’s sepsis and you’re dying. It’s fine, no big deal.” You lightly teased him, trying to show you weren’t trying to corner him. You just cared.
Peter rolled his eyes, “It’s not sepsis.”
“Oh, so you admit it?”
“Admit what?”
“It’s something.”
Peter just looked in your eyes with pursed lips, both of you refused to break eye contact. The room was silent and unmoving for a solid minute.
“I think it’s time for battleship.”
Peter tapped your thighs to get you to get off him so he could stand up and set up the game, you crossed your arms over your chest and challenged him for a moment, calling his bluff. Was he really about to ignore the whole situation?
The answer was yes, he was just blinking back at you and looked confused as to why you weren’t moving off him. He was prepared to let you win, he was just gonna say you were hitting ships even when you weren’t, just to make you feel like you won something against him.
You huffed and pushed off of him.
“Fine. But don’t let me win, I’m going to kick your ass just because I can.”
And even though you kept putting the largest ship in the same place, Peter let you win.
—--------------------------------------------
“Ouch, what’s that from?”
You frowned at the small graze across Peter’s face, a superficial cut that ran over his right cheek. You placed a light kiss to the mark as if you could heal it instantly.
“I was walking down 5th and May called and I dropped my phone. When I picked it up I stood back up into a bush, got me a good one.”
“It looks like you got hit with something.” (He did.)
You ran your thumb over the injury.
“Yeah, Mother Nature.”
“That’s not a fight I think you can win, dear. But, now my boyfriend looks like a tough guy.”
Peter can get behind that idea, some big strong man you hide behind who doesn’t take shit from anyone.
“Ah, does that do something for you? I can start picking fights if that’s what you want.”
You scrunch your nose at his teasing, “Nah. I love my soft, mushy boyfriend. He’s so nice and kind, he could never hurt anyone.” (He could.)
And those are the kind of comments that make him feel bad, because how was he supposed to tell you he actually is picking fights and isn’t so nice and kind sometimes.
Too bad your hug is crushing him and all he can feel is what he thinks is the right decision.
—-------------------------------------------------------------
“Ah! Fuck, what the fuck!”
Your heart raced and you held a hand over your chest to try and regulate the pulses. Your senses bounced off the brick around you, in an effort to catch your breath from the fright you breathed heavily for a second.
“You scared the fuck out of me.”
“Sorry! I thought you heard me!”
The red and blue hero dropped behind you and didn’t say a word until you felt someone watching you and turned ready to scream out ‘Fire!’ and had the daylights scared out of you.
“It’s fine, just got my blood racing a little.”
“What’s up? Long time no see.”
It’s true. You hadn’t seen the masked vigilante for a moment, he was never around or at least wasn’t around when you were.
“Nothing much. My birthday is about to come up, Peter and I are coming up on six months. But, we're also in a rough patch right now, so yeah. That’s fun.”
Rough patch?
You were in a rough patch?
“Rough patch?”
“Yeah. It’s whatever, I’m sure it’s fine.” You shrugged but if you were being honest you were actually kind of losing sleep over it.
“What do you mean?”
Yeah, what do you mean?
“Uh, he’s hiding something from me. And I can’t tell if it’s something big or not, and I’ve really been trying to be cool but if I’m being honest it’s really starting to fuck with my head.” You gave a small laugh at the end but even he could tell it was forced.
Was him not being honest ruining the relationship?
“When did that start?”
Did he start to let his guard drop?
“I don’t know. I think he’s always been kind of, I don’t know. He’s not like, secretive but he’s kind of private, but not really? I mean I can ask him anything but sometimes I can tell he’s just talking around the topic, you know?”
“And recently it’s been getting worse. Like, sometimes he won’t let me touch him. And I don’t think it's me, it’s just because he doesn’t want to be touched. It’s almost like I’m hurting him, and now I can’t help but think maybe he has trauma or something but that’s not a thing you ask outright. I can’t help but think we’re both waiting for the other to bring it up first.”
Ouch.
He’s made his girlfriend feel like shit.
That’s not being the best boyfriend he promised he would be.
Ouch.
“I think you’re right. It not being a you thing, I mean. Maybe he has something he’s not ready to share yet.”
You let out a heavy sigh.
“I know. And I know this sounds shitty, because I want him to work this out on his own and come to me when he’s ready. But, I also want to know I’m not crazy and that there is something he’s hiding. And I can’t just ask if he’s hiding something out of the blue because then he’s going to lie and I really, really hate that he’s been lying. And we both fucking know it, I mean he just looks at me and we both know what he said was a lie but neither of us comment on it.”
Yeah, he feels like shit.
“I just…” You trail off, and for the first time in the past two weeks spiral you cry. And you cry hard, your breaths tremble and you squat with your head between your knees to collapse the spinning thoughts around you.
Peter doesn’t know what the fuck to do.
Because he wants to wrap himself around you and tell you it’s okay.
But he doesn’t think Spider-Man would do that.
So he doesn’t.
“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay, just breathe okay?”
You sniffle and rub your eyes.
“I just really, really love him. Why doesn’t he trust me?” Your voice broke and Peter had to look directly into your teary eyes through his mask and tell you he doesn’t know.
—---------------------------------
It was another Saturday night where Peter was rejecting your advances.
It has been happening more frequently, not super often but enough to make you question something. Peter has just been more on edge, and now that he knows you’re looking for something he doesn’t want to risk it.
You pulled from him and sighed.
“What’s the no for this time?”
He feels like he should be honest.
So he is.
“I have a bad bruise and it hurts, I scraped up my side and it’s ugly.”
“Can I see it?”
“I don’t really want you to.”
At least he was being honest, and that is something you’ll take.
“Okay. Thanks for telling me.” You grinned at him, and pressed a chaste kiss to his mouth.
“Can I ask what happened?”
“I rubbed it against a building, no biggie.” (He was swinging quite fast and was too busy looking at a pigeon trying to fly off with a whole sandwich.)
“Ouch.” You frowned and looked down at his torso.
“Where is it?”
Peter ran a hand over his left rib area and you ducked your head down to place feather light kisses over his shirt.
He sighed and rubbed at the back of your head.
“Feels better already.”
—-----------------------------------------------------------
“Let me kiss it better.”
Peter pulled his hand away from you and hid it, he didn’t want you to kiss it better. You had just walked in two seconds after he dropped the suit from his body, his cheeks glew at the wolf whistle you gave his mostly naked body.
You clocked in on his scraped knuckles, you weren’t sure how it happened but you’ve learned Peter is pretty clumsy. He was usually scraped, cut or bruised somewhere but never so much it drew out real questions you wouldn’t let him escape from.
Peter on the other hand tried to play it off, but in reality he hasn’t washed the blood from his hand yet and he’s not sure whose it is. Was it his or was it from the teeth scraping across as he punched some guy in the jaw a few dozen times?
He didn’t want you to kiss a stranger's blood, even if you took it as rejection he wouldn’t give in and let you win.
“It’s okay, baby. Doesn’t hurt.” (It actually didn’t this time.)
“But it’s my job to kiss your boo-boos.”
“Not tonight, I’d rather kiss you.”
He’s gotten better at redirecting your thoughts.
“I’m okay with that, but don’t put on pants. Just a waste of time.”
You winked at his boxers and nibbled on your bottom lip.
Tonight he didn’t object.
-------------------———————————-
Everything Peter was scared of happening was happening right now.
He doesn’t know how you got here, and he doesn’t know how he stumbled upon you but he is so glad he did. You were currently soaking wet and shivering while heaving breaths, your face was red and wet, he wasn’t sure if it was the rain or tears.
What you were doing in the pouring rain almost two hours into the Bronx is beyond him, he just wanted you home, dry and safe.
“What’s going on?” His panicked questioning made you cry harder.
“I’m not, I don’t, please help me. Please.”
“Okay, okay. Tell me what’s going on so I can help you. Can you do that for me?”
Peter watched as you calmed your breath, shoulders shaking from the cold rain on bare skin. Your breaths came in stutters as you tried to speak.
“My phone is dead and I don’t know where I am. I fell asleep on the train and I had to get off and I tried staying in the station but this old fucking creep was following me around,”
Peter’s heart sank.
You were terrified, lost and cold.
“So I came out here and I forgot my jacket at Peter’s and, and, and. I really need him, can you call him please?”
Peter froze.
He can’t call Peter, he is Peter.
“I don’t have his number, I can help you, it's okay.”
Spider-Man tried to reach for your arm but you recoiled and broke into a sob.
“No. Please call Peter, please. I know his number, I would call him on the payphone, I tried but that guy came up right behind me and was pressing into me.”
He felt worse by the second.
You just really, really needed him.
“I’m sorry, I can’t.”
“It’s your job! You’re supposed to help. Please call my boyfriend.” You became bitter but it was just nerves.
“I can’t. I can’t give out my number like that, you have to understand. I can get you back home safely, that’s the best I can offer.”
“I don’t want to go alone, he can come. He will come, just call him. He won’t leave me here, I know he won't.”
He knows he wouldn’t either.
But he’s not Peter right now, and he can’t be no matter how much you need him.
“I’ll ride with you. Just so you’re not alone, would that be okay?” He was almost pleading with you, out of every other time he wants this one to be the time where you just shut up and listen.
“I just really don’t want you right now, I’m sorry.” You sniffled and shuffled away from him, blinking away the rain droplets on your eyelashes.
Peter doesn’t know what to say.
You won’t listen to Spider-Man, it’s not who you want.
“Would you come with me to call him? I understand you can’t call him but just so I don’t have to go back down there alone, please?”
Now he has to watch you get ignored 3 times because he can’t answer, he’s right next to you. And he’s staring down the old guy four benches down looking you up and down from the side. After the third call with no answer you slammed the phone down on the hook.
“I don’t know why he didn’t answer. The one time I really, really needed him to answer he didn’t.”
Peter really wishes he could tell you he’s right there, just one arm length away.
“Let me take you home, he probably just has unknown callers silenced. No need to panic, okay?” Peter cautioned the words scared for a blow up on your end but it was worse, it was defeat.
It was disappointment.
It was hurt.
Peter had let you down.
And he watched himself do it.
“What if he calls back?”
“He can’t. You can’t call payphones back.”
Peter isn’t sure if that’s true, but he does know that the phone will never ring.
“Okay. You can take me home.”
Three stops before yours you told Spider-Man he could leave. You promised you would be okay and that you really appreciated him taking the hours out of his evening to get you home even after you freaked out on him.
As soon as the doors opened you were met with the worried eyes of your boyfriend, a smile broke over his face as you stepped through. You were confused but more than anything, you were safe, comforted, and warm. He was so, so warm. And he had a jacket for you.
“How did you know I was here?” Your cold nose was buried in his shoulder.
“Private caller. They left me a message and said you were here and waiting for me, heard you got a little lost.”
“I was so so sacred. Spider-Man found me, and I was begging him to call you. I wonder if he did, I called you three times.”
“On the payphone? I have unknown callers silenced, from now on I’ll keep them on okay? I’m sorry you were scared, it’s a good thing Spidey was there huh?”
You shook your head and pressed into him for a hug.
“There isn’t anyone or anything that makes me feel safer than being right here.”
Peter decided then he has to tell you.
—------------------------------------------
It’s fair you’re pissed at Peter.
He knows it’s fair, he just hopes you’ll still date him after this.
And of course he was right, you found out before he was ready to tell you and he knows it’s gone on too long, and there wasn’t going to be an easy way to break the news but you finding out on your own made you spiral into a frenzy and now you refused to speak to him.
He had just washed his suit, and with the technology he couldn’t dry it so on wash days he kept it hung in his closet to air dry until he would use it that night.
Then you came over and rolled around in his bed, then begged him to make you a grilled cheese, then begged to watch the new season of reality TV on Netflix, which he hates but knows you love the drama. He also feels a little good because the whole time you cling to his arm and watch the guys berate their new fiancès and tell Peter you’re so glad he doesn’t act like that.
It was totally normal until the evening.
You had asked to take a shower before dinner, and sat on his bed with your wet hair dripping down your pajama shirt, and his fan iced the droplets and it sent chills up your back. You were planning on spending the night and so in your shivers you dug yourself under his blankets but the cold had already settled into your bones and you were contemplating getting a hoodie of Peter’s out of his closet.
“Hey.”
You were almost at his closet doors when he interfered.
“I’m cold.”
“C’mere.” He opened his arms for a hug but his warmth wasn’t settling the chill in your body.
“Want to do chinese? If not, we can do that pasta thing again.”
“Hmm, I’m not sure yet. I’m too cold to decide, I’m gonna grab a hoodie.”
You broke from the hug and Peter stepped to the side in front of you again.
“I can grab it.”
You rolled your eyes with a grin, you’re not sure if Peter’s love language was more acts of service or physical touch.
“It’s okay, I can manage.”
You tried to step to the side once more but he followed you.
“No really, I insist.”
Even with a smile on his face you saw the slight panic, he didn’t want you in his closet.
“What? Are you hiding your other girlfriend in there or something?”
He was hiding something in there for sure. Just not another girl.
“Oh yeah, there’s another one under the bed too. I’m surprised you didn’t see the third one hiding in the shower.”
A shudder ran down your spine and you were able to place a hand on the closet handle before Peter leaned against the doors so they wouldn’t open.
“I got it.”
You furrowed your brow at him, why was he acting like this?
“Yeah, I can too.”
“No really, let me.”
You don’t know why but suddenly you were warm with slight rage, why was he being so fascitous? There was no reason for him to be trying so hard to keep you from opening the doors but there was.
And you didn’t know why.
“No. Let me.”
You pulled at the handle but it didn’t budge under Peter resting against it.
“Peter, move.”
He thinks this is the moment. You’re about to find out and he’s terrified.
“Baby I don’t mind, let me take care of you.” This was his last plea, hiding behind wanting to take care of you and not because he was trying to hide his suit. Not at all.
“What are you hiding?” You jiggled the handle again.
“What? Nothing.”
“No, it’s something.” You weren’t even cold anymore, this was about standing your ground.
“I don’t-“
You cut him off, you were done with the lies.
“Then move.”
Peter stayed silent this time.
He was about to let you in.
He was about to watch the other shoe drop.
You pushed his shoulder to move him off the door and he stumbled away while holding his breath. He wasn’t even as half as nervous when May found out.
You opened the door and let out a breath.
“See? Did it just fine on my own.”
Your hand ran across the right rack looking through the hooded collection searching for your favorite. You didn’t get why he was so adamant on you not doing this yourself, there was absolutely no issue.
You slipped the thick blue fleece off the hanger and turned sideways to close the door, and when the door was almost shut your breath hitched, did you just see what you thought?
Peter stayed still, he knows you saw.
You slowly cracked the door back open and looked at the left rack. And it was there, hung up. Just spandex and so innocent looking, you almost told yourself it was just an authentic replica. A costume.
But you knew better.
And by his reaction, or lack of, was answer enough.
You dropped the sweatshirt to the ground and ran a thumb over the shoulder of the suit, the same texture that was on your cheek when you asked him to not beat up Peter.
Peter was Spider-Man.
Your boyfriend was Spider-Man.
You confided in him several times, about him.
You felt so dirty, and played, and dumb, and belittled. Each time you talked with him replayed in your mind, every conversation and accusation.
It was so unfair.
Peter always had the upper hand, and you weren’t even aware he did.
Peter just watched your reaction, your thumb didn’t move. You didn’t move, just stayed still until your hand dropped and when you turned to look at him he stayed silent waiting for you to break the ice.
He was going to wait until you asked him a question or all of them, but you didn’t. You just shook your head at him and shoulder checked him as you walked out his room and headed to grab your bag by the front door to leave.
“Hey, hey, hey. Stop, let’s talk.”
“You don’t want me to talk to you right now.” You sounded so bitter, so hurt, so angry.
“Yes I do, let me hear it.”
“No. I literally don’t even want to see you right now.”
Peter moved to stand in front of the door and true to your word you had your head turned to the wall in effort not to look at him. Even seeing him, watching him try to handle this with ease unsettled you. He didn’t realize how uncomfortable you felt right now.
“Baby, let’s talk, okay? I’ll answer any questions.”
You laughed bitterly at his words, funny now he was the king of honesty.
“You know maybe you can send Spider-Man out to collect all the intel on Peter and I’s issues.”
“Hey, that’s not what I meant to happen.”
“Fuck off, Peter. I really, really don’t want to be around you. But, you know, I’m sure Spidey will track me down and ask me about an issue he somehow knows I’m having.”
He shook his head and tried to defend himself, “That’s not-“
“That’s not how it happened, I get it. The first time was a fluke, I’ll give you that. But every other time you knew who I was, and what I wanted. You played into it, you should’ve ignored me. You shouldn’t have kept tracking me down or talking to me, you had an unfair advantage the entire time.”
“You should’ve never talked to me as him after I told him I liked you. That is dirty behavior and now I really don’t trust you, I mean what else are you hiding?”
Peter knows in his heart this was deserved, he knows what you mean, and you’re not wrong. He knows in his heart that he only cared and was checking up on you but to you it felt like he was playing you.
“I know, I know. I wanted to tell you, I really did, I swear. I just really liked that you didn’t know, and it wasn’t even sadistic, I just liked being just me around you. I didn’t want to explain every detail of what I do, or what I did that night, you know?”
“No, Peter. I really don’t know, I didn’t talk to you like a third party person and pretend like I didn’t actually know you. I was only honest with you, and you weren’t. I genuinely don’t know what is real or a lie anymore.”
You were hurt and confused and honestly it was fucking hard with your head, did he act or say certain things because you told Spider-Man what you wanted?
Was he ever going to actually tell you?
“I love you. And I know I messed up, but I promise nothing was a lie. Everything I told you about Peter as Spider-Man was true.”
And Peter was being honest, he didn’t mean to mess it up this hard. He knew you wouldn’t be happy but he didn’t expect you to question the entire relationship.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I know I should’ve but I didn’t want this to happen.”
He pointed between you two and your face hardened, he didn’t understand your point.
“This isn’t happening because you didn’t tell me you were Spider-Man, I get why you didn’t tell me. This is happening because you kept using it to your advantage, and you knew what you were doing. You should have left me alone. That’s why this is happening.”
Peter wasn’t sure how to navigate this anymore, everything he said was the wrong thing. Maybe you were right, he should’ve let you leave, you weren’t ready to talk about this right now.
He let out a sigh and rubbed at his forehead, he understood that you needed space and talking it out was making it worse.
“Okay, okay. I know you’re mad, and hurt and upset with me right now. And I don’t want to fix that, I just want you to work through this with me, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Do you want to leave? If you need time away from me it’s okay.”
“Yeah.”
You threw your backpack over a shoulder and passed by him towards the door before he grabbed your wrist.
“I’m sorry, and I love you.”
“I know you are.”
Peter frowned at the response.
“You’ll call me if you need something right? We’re okay for now?”
You nodded at him and pulled your wrist from his grasp.
“We’re okay. I love you. I’ll call you later.”
At least you said you loved him back, but he couldn’t help but feel off after watching you leave without a glance back.
Peter feels like he’s really, really messed up.
————————————-
“Hi.”
Peter whipped his head down at you, he wasn’t expecting you to approach him in the suit, especially after yesterday. You hadn’t talked to him for a whole twenty four hours and he actually felt like he was going crazy. And he didn’t realize how often he texts or snapchats you or sends links until he decided to leave the contact up to you.
He wasn’t upset at you, you were upset at him so he thinks it’s fair that you come to him first. But he really wasn’t expecting that it would be a day later, maybe a few days at least if he was basing it off of how upset you were yesterday.
“Hi.”
“I missed you.” You sniffled.
“I missed you, too.”
Peter watched you slowly trying to gauge your reaction, he genuinely couldn’t tell what you were thinking and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
“Wanna talk?”
You nodded your head slowly, and looked around the space you were in wondering if it was a quiet enough spot. Off the busy street you tucked away into the corner of the alleyway, your eye catching the webbed bag up the wall.
He jumped off the roof and followed you and waited for you to talk, he watched as you soaked him in for a second. You’ve seen Spider-Man before but now knowing he was Peter you looked at him differently, you were drawing over his curves and dips with your eyes and you reached out to run a hand down his front.
“Can I… Can you take off your mask?”
In an instant he pulled it off and you watched as his hair fell down in a fluff, you reached a hand out to smooth over the curls, trying your best to place it the way he normally has it despite knowing it was about to get ruined.
“Feels weird seeing you in the suit, it’s like you’re cosplaying.”
“How do you put it on?” You traced over his chest and then turned him around as you searched for a zipper.
“The spider.” He lightly ran his glove over the emblem and without understanding the concept you pressed the spider confused with the steps.
“Oop!” Your arms flailed as you were unsure what to do, in one motion the suit expanded and quite literally fell off his body. Even hiding in the corner you tried to shield him from any outside views.
Peter giggled as you fumbled around, he drew the suit back up and grabbed your hand to press the spider as it conformed back into his shape.
“Sorry, I didn’t know it would do that.”
“It’s okay.” He smiled warmly and you were desperate to kiss him so you did.
“What’s up?”
You bit the inside of your cheek and pondered on what to say, or more what to ask. More than anything knowing that your boyfriend was now an open book and was willing to answer any questions you had.
“Can you see out of that?”
You pointed at the mask in his hand.
“Mhm.” He nodded.
You couldn’t picture how, it looked like mesh. In fact when you ran your thumb over it, it felt like mesh.
“How?”
“Well my senses make it hard to-“
“No, how did it happen? How are you him?”
“A spider bite. Radioactive spider, I didn’t realize until the next morning that something was up. I woke up and felt like my head was splitting open cause I could hear the entire city in my head.”
“When?”
“When I was 15.”
“Who else knows?”
“May, MJ and Ned.”
You nodded slowly, everyone knew.
And you didn’t.
“If it makes you feel better it’s not just you I never told, everyone just found out on their own.”
You hummed and nodded your head.
“So everytime you said no to sex you were hiding a Spidey ingury?”
“Correct.”
You didn’t know how to move forward, what happened next? Do you forget what happened?
You do understand why he didn’t say anything, but he also should’ve never interfered after the first time. You can’t help but feel a little violated, and it’s not like you cared Peter knew what you said, it’s how he was hearing that bothered you.
“I’m still upset at you.”
You sniffled again and rolled a pebble under your foot, you watched Peter frown before looking behind you and pulling you into him and behind the dumpster.
You pulled a face of confusion until you heard chattering voices and group laughs walking by the clearance. His strong hearing impressed you, it was new seeing him react to his senses in front of you.
“I know, baby. And I understand, I know what I did was wrong. And I don’t want to try and justify it but, in my mind I was just caring for you. I didn’t even think of it like that, and I don’t know why I didn’t. Cause I’d be peeved if the situation was swapped.”
Peter was honest, he knew after sulking all night he was wrong. He did exploit his position but he just loved you and cared for you and just wanted you to feel safe and heard, but you wanted to do all of that with Peter, not Spider-Man.
“You know what hurts me the most?”
Peter doesn’t want to hear it.
“No, what?”
“When you didn’t tell me that day when I got lost. I was fucking petrified and I needed you, you saw how much I needed you and you just went along with the story. Looking back on that now I just feel so hurt.”
Peter felt his heart drop.
He let you down.
He knows he did that day.
It just really hurt having you confirm his fears.
“It really, really hurt me not to tell you. And that doesn’t compare to how you felt, I just want you to know that even though I caused this, I didn’t feel good doing it.”
Peter wasn’t evil, he was a sweet boy. Just a little unaware.
And that’s what you loved most about him.
“That's it, right? No more secrets?”
Peter laughed and nodded his head.
“That’s it. I promise.”
“Total transparency?”
You raised your hand to shake his and spread your fingers over his gloved hand, warmth seeking into your palms.
“Total transparency.”
You bit your lip and over exaggerated your hand shake.
“Good. Cause I have some questions.”
“I’ll answer all of them.”
“Okay! Did you get all your powers at once or was it one at a time? How fast can you swing? How slow can you swing? Have you ever hit a bird? When do you eat? Wait, how do you pee? How do your webs work? Please don’t say they come out of you.”
You paused for a gulp of air and watched Peter’s eyes go wide.
“Are all your senses effected? Can you super smell now? And how do your senses work? Could I wear the mask? Or does it only work for your head? Wait, do you know Tony Stark? Could I meet Tony Stark? Do you have a room at the Avengers tower? Is Tony Stark cool? Can you-“
“Baby breathe.”
Peter watched your face grow in color while you continued to ask away, and if he was honest he needed you to stop for a minute.
“Sorry! I’m just curious.”
You watched Peter try and mentally checklist the questions so he could respond and you bit your cheek while he counted the questions. Your mind started to wander off.
“So if you were swinging through-“
Peter now thinks this is the worst case scenario of you finding out about his alter ego.
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petrapalerno · 1 month
Text
Submitting to the Alien Barbarian #4
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Alien x fem reader, a dom/sub erotic short.
TW/CW: rough consensual sex, primal play, knotting, breeding, aliens, dominance/submission, blood play, spanking, breath play, and violence.
MASTER POST
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PREVIOUS
You reach for him, but find nothing but a fistful of purple fur. Maybe he’s finally gone back to the orgy and found something else to rut. 
You blink, trying to clear your crusted eyes of sleep. Could you even find your way back to the spawning pits on your own? You weren’t really paying attention to what direction he walked when you were slung over his shoulder. 
He couldn’t have walked that far, could he?  
With a deep breath, you push your body up to sit; every muscle feels overworked and stiff as you move. Bringing your hands down to your pussy, you wince. 
Being overworked is an understatement. You’re ninety-nine percent sure that you’ve torn something. 
Sure, you like it rough, but everyone’s got a limit. You could stay here one more night and soldier back to the pits for more fun before you’re taken to the Volkroth nesting grounds. 
The actual giving birth part of the breeding program isn’t really the thing that excites you, but it’s kind of package deal. Luckily, you’ve been assured that the gestation time is short and birth is much easier than for normal humans. The Volkroth deliver very undeveloped young and are brought to term outside the body at the nesting grounds. 
When it was being described to you, they made it seem like they reproduced similarly to pandas or kangaroos— but no pouch was required. The tiny baby bean goes into some kind of pod, and you can go about getting fucked roughly for the rest of the spawning season. They raise the young communally too, so there’s no expectation of parenting for you either. 
Looking at the sheer size of the Volkroth, the whole idea of a tiny bean of a baby seems ludicrous. But then again, you’re no expert on alien reproduction. 
You’re just here to be ripped apart, and you’ve still got three months left until the spawning season ends. One rest day won’t put that big a damper on your orgy fun, will it? 
The fire you slept next to is low, and you nudge a puck of the fuel you saw Drohako stoke it with last night into the flames. They instantaneously spark and the fire greedily engulfs the puck of dried vegetation and mud. 
You’re just about to lie back down when you hear grunting and the hide that covers the cave’s entrance flies open. 
The sun blasts into the cave, and your eyes struggle to adjust to the alien sun’s intensity. Slowly, two forms begin to block out the light. 
Drohako stands, one arm up, holding the lead to some huge alien animal. As he guides it through the opening, it limps on one of its four legs. 
“Stupid Grasyi, I hope the run was worth it.” He barks at the beast that looks like a cross between a Bengal tiger and a moose. As he ties the animal up, you see its legs are far too tall to belong to a big cat, but its blocky head is feline. A set of large and branching black antlers curl around his head. Its striped yellow fur is thick and fluffy, but you can tell it masks how vicious the beast is. The animal’s almond eyes flick over to you as it licks its lips lazily, revealing a viciously sharp set of teeth, it's incisors lengthening out like a snakes fangs. 
“Drohako?” 
“Who else would it be?” He turns to me, annoyed and scowling. 
“I don’t know. I figured you headed back to the spawning pits. Don’t get pissy with me.” I stand slowly and with a great deal of shaking effort. 
“And now you’re hurt, too? You, little human, might have eyes bigger than your cunt.” He gestures down to his crotch. His massive cocks are covered with some kind of loincloth. It does little to hide his thunder, so to speak. 
You scoff, but he’s probably not wrong. Taking a step forward, your knees unexpectedly give out. Closing your eyes, you expect to fall face first into the fire. 
You feel the heat on your cheeks, but not the licking sting of the flames. Bringing your hand up to your chest, you feel Drohako’s brawny forearm. It grips your chest tightly, holding you just above the fire. 
“You move pretty fast for a big guy,” you chirp, still woozy. 
“You are injured,” he tells you earnestly. 
“No shit, Sherlock,” you mutter under your breath, and he pulls you into his arms. 
“You will tell me next time you’re injured. You won’t be stupid like this again,” He scolds as we walk further into the cave. 
My stomach grumbles and clenches uncomfortably. “Maybe I’m just hungry.” 
Drohako groans, “You are both, and you’ve informed me of neither.” 
“Sorry, I thought you hit it and quit it,” I laugh. “I’m sure I would have figured it out once I made it back to the spawning pits—“
Drohako wraps his hand around your hair and tugs your head back hard. 
“You are not going back to the spawning pits. In fact, you will not leave the home cave,” he seethes. 
“What? Were you serious last night? Isn’t that the point of me being here?” He steps over some kind of ledge, and you realize he’s lowering you both into the hot spring you saw last night.
Drohako tucks his legs under him, sitting over his crossed ankles, and cradles you as he slowly brings your body under the water’s surface. Now that you’re actually in it, you don’t think it’s water. It’s not sticky, but it is thick like syrup. It clings to your body and displaces in ways that water wouldn’t.  As you lay across his lap, he looks at you with a sour scowl and tugs your hair back into the pool, “Hold your breath.” 
You don’t do it fast enough, and some water gets into your nose and lungs. You choke when he lets you up, gasping for air and forcing the warm water out of your chest. 
“What the fuck? You’re mad that I’m injured, so you try to drown me?” You sputter at him. 
“The frustrating fact that you have no self-preservation skills, and also can’t follow instructions, isn’t my fault…now is it? Quit complaining before I gag you again. The planet’s blood is healing.” He acts like he would rather do anything other than caring for you…but does it all the same. 
“Planet’s blood? Healing?” You ask, but realize that he’s right. Your muscles are relaxing, and even your crotch isn’t as sore. 
“How injured is your cunt?” He asks as if you’re talking about the weather. 
“It’s sore,” you say, trying to mitigate how painful it actually is. 
With a sigh and an eye roll, he spins you so that your head rests just below his pecs. You feel pint-sized when he’s manhandling you. 
You don’t resist when he pulls your knees apart wide enough so that your feet fall on the outside of his own legs. You watch him with curiosity as he slides a big purple hand between your legs. He rubs broadly over your mound and lips, working the healing water over your pussy. 
You ease into him as some of the stinging is instantly soothed. 
Your mouth parts as his hand dips lower, and two of his thick fingers run up and down the lips of my pussy before pressing into you entrance. You flinch slightly as he touches your torn skin. 
“I should fuck you even rawer for not telling me you were hurt,” he says through gritted teeth. 
You wonder if maybe he actually did scrambled something in your brain when slammed it into the ground. A cord tightens inside you as your arousal grows. It would fucking hurt, but in a way, you feel you would like. 
You buck your hips a little, maybe giving him the gentle nudge he needs to fucking wreck you again. 
His other hand wraps around your neck, squeezing the sides hard. You bite your lip, unable to help the warmth spreading over your body.
“You are an insolent thing who will only get fucked once she listens. You’re going to have to earn these cocks.” 
You expect him to move his hands a little faster, perhaps slipping at least one of his cocks up into you. 
But he doesn’t. He rubs your torn pussy slowly, and you can almost feel it mending itself, thanks to the weird alien liquid. The new skin that grows is more sensitive than what was there before, and it doesn’t help you lessen your arousal. 
“Do you want this seed filling your belly, growing my spawn?” He breathes into your ear, and all the while, his hands move torturously slowly on your no longer painful pussy. 
“Yes,” you sigh as he squeezes your neck all the harder. 
“Do you want your tight little human cunt to milk these cocks?” He rasps, letting his fingers find your clit. Because the liquid your in, the planet’s blood, is thick and viscous, it lets him glide over the sensitive spot at your pussy’s apex with ease. 
Your legs shake as he runs circles around the bundle of nerves, your muscles clasping, begging to be filled up with his thick cocks. You want to feel the delicious swell of his knotting dicks again. 
“Please Drohako,” you moan, arching up. 
“Do you want to come, little human?” He bites your ear lobe hard. 
“Fuck yes,” you say, so close to the edge of no return. 
“Then you will fucking listen to me from now on,” his tone changes from sensual to angry in the span of a heartbeat. 
You’re surprised when he stops petting your pussy and pushes your knees shut. You're still throbbing with need when he pushes you forward into the pool so he can leave it. 
“Did you really just do that?” You pant as you watch him walk back toward the front of the cave, pushing your own hand between your thighs. If you don’t find your release, you feel like you’ll explode and your fingers work furiously, trying to expedite your own ecstasy. 
“Don’t you fucking dare touch yourself,” his voice booms as he snarls at you. You jump almost as much as the strange creature tied up by the cave’s entrance. “You will come only when I allow it, and right now, you don’t deserve it.” 
Oh. This is a thing, a thing you like. Do you get off on withholding? 
“You will let your body heal, you will eat the food I’m about to bring you, and you will stop talking about returning to the spawning pits. You took my knot, you are my mate.” He balls his fists up. “I will teach you some gods’ damn discipline if it’s the last fucking thing I do,” His purple face is flushed near blue as he points an accusatory finger at you. 
“Your mate?” You ask, bewildered.
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solarmorrigan · 9 months
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You know how cats seem to have an innate sense of when you’re about to get up, and they choose that exact moment to sit down on your lap? And no sooner have they made themselves comfortable than you realize that you have to go to the bathroom, or someone calls you over, or the phone starts ringing, and you have to shove the poor cat off your lap?
That’s basically Eddie’s sex life right now.
Well alright, no, not entirely, but – it’s a component that’s certainly starting to become an irritation.
It’s just that Steve has a wonderful lap.
At least, Eddie assumes it’s wonderful. It’s wonderfully inviting, at the very least; it’s wide enough to offer Eddie (who is not quite as generously endowed in the whole… thighs-ass department, he’ll admit) a good seat, and he’s had his hands on the area often enough to know it’s firm but with just the right amount of give to be very comfortable.
But Eddie’s never actually gotten to spend much time on it.
He doesn’t even mean that in a sexual way (although that much is also true). Every time he’s so much as tried to plop himself down on Steve’s lap to do something as innocent as watch a movie, Steve seems to remember something he needs to get up and do within just a few minutes.
For a little while, Eddie had been worried about what that meant. Did Steve not want to spend time with him? Did Steve not want Eddie near him? Did Steve not find him attractive? Did Steve just find him annoying?
But further time spent together has given Eddie more confidence. Clearly Steve enjoys spending time with him—submits to it willingly and often—and does find Eddie annoying but in a way he enjoys. Steve also most definitely finds Eddie attractive (and, in fact, has no trouble at all spending extended time on Eddie’s lap). So at this point, it’s more of a puzzle. A frustration.
It can’t be that Eddie’s too heavy for him; Eddie isn’t a small guy, really, but he isn’t huge, either. He’s seen Steve push and pull bigger people around – hell, he’s seen Steve carry Mike a good ways through the woods and back to the car after the kid had slipped and twisted his ankle when they’d been out walking (an incident which none of them are allowed to speak of ever, for varying reasons of blackmail and dignity), and he’s not too much smaller than Eddie.
Eddie is nothing if not a direct sort of guy, though – if he’s thinking something, he’s going to say it. This is mostly because he has very little brain-to-mouth filter, but he’s learned to make it part of his image. He’s pretty sure it works for him.
All of this to say that one afternoon, as they make out on Steve’s couch, Eddie freshly settled on Steve’s lap, Eddie decides to just… ask.
He waits until he can feel Steve’s hands sliding down around his thighs—not groping, but with the intent to move him—before he pulls back to say anything.
“Hey,” he says—gasps, really, still a little breathless with his attempt to seize the opportunity, “question.”
Steve blinks up at him, startled. “Uh. Shoot.”
“Do you not like it, when I sit on your lap? Because it kinda seems like you find other places to be when I try to make that happen.”
If Steve had been startled before, that’s nothing on how he looks now. He covers it in an instant, but Eddie’s seen it; Steve’s good, he’s very good, but Eddie is literally right in his face.
“What?” Steve pulls back, brows drawn in confusion. “No. Why would I have a problem with you being in my lap?”
Eddie shrugs. “Not a damn clue. That’s why I figured I’d ask. It’s just that whenever I get myself settled here, you suddenly remember you have to get up.”
“I don’t do that,” Steve scoffs, throwing in a good-natured eye roll.
“You kinda do, babe,” Eddie says, keeping it light; this isn’t an argument, nor an accusation – it’s literally just a question, and he doesn’t want to scare Steve off.
“So you’re saying, that every time I have my boyfriend on my lap – a guy I find insanely hot, by the way,” Steve’s hand slide back up Eddie’s thighs, edging towards his ass, and this time he’s groping, “you’re saying I don’t want him there, is that right?”
Eddie’s resolve almost breaks as Steve stares up at him with his ridiculous, pretty eyes (he’s good, he’s very good, Eddie will give him that) and tugs him closer with his ridiculous, strong hands, but he knows Steve is lying. He knows it.
He just doesn’t know why.
And isn’t that interesting? Eddie wouldn’t exactly call Steve an open book, but they know each other pretty well by now; Eddie can usually read Steve, but he has no idea what he’s thinking just at the moment.
So he decides to allow it.
He’ll see where it goes.
“Hm,” Eddie hums, as if he’s thinking. “That does sound a little silly, if you put it like that.”
“Completely silly.” Steve grins up at him, but there’s a thread of very genuine sincerity in what he says next. “Of course I want you here.”
And Eddie’s not sure what to say to that, so he leans back in to kiss Steve again.
And for a while, it’s fine. Great, even. Steve is a very good kisser, after all, and Eddie likes to think he’s no slouch himself, and a good time is being had by all, except before too long Eddie can feel Steve starting to tense up under him.
Once again, Eddie doesn’t mean this in a sexual way.
It’s not the fun, anticipatory kind of tensing, but the ready to run or punch something kind of tensing. The kind of tension that comes from a threat, not from having your boyfriend on your lap.
Eddie waits to see if Steve will do anything, say anything, but he does nothing. His kisses grow more distracted, quicker and shallower, but he doesn’t pull away. He doesn’t push Eddie away.
It’s when Steve starts shaking that Eddie gives up.
“Okay,” Eddie pulls away, shifting himself to the side so he doesn’t have more than an ankle draped over Steve’s legs, “what’s wrong?”
“What do you mean, what’s wrong? You’re the one who pulled away,” Steve snaps.
“Yeah, because it feels like you don’t want me up there,” Eddie shoots back.
Steve rolls his eyes again, irritated this time. “What, you don’t like it if I don’t let you sit on my lap, you don’t like it if I do let you sit on my lap– What the fuck do you want from me?”
“Maybe just the goddamn truth.”
Whatever Eddie expects, it isn’t for Steve to just… stare at him.
He stares at Eddie for a good five seconds in full silence before shaking his head. “No,” he says quietly, “you don’t want that.”
His sudden reticence only sparks Eddie’s irritation. “Don’t tell me what I do or don’t want, Steve. You don’t want to tell me, that’s on you, but don’t decide for me what I don’t want to know.”
“Well what do you think you’re going to hear, Eddie, huh?” Steve barks. “What do you want to hear? You wanna hear how Billy Hargrove sat on me – pinned me down while he beat me unconscious? Or you wanna hear how it felt to be handcuffed to a fucking chair while some Russians– while they– how it felt to be held down and not be able to stop them from doing anything?”
Steve has stood up now, pacing in front of Eddie, and Eddie wishes he could do anything other than fucking stare while his boyfriend has some kind of breakdown that he started.
“Or – or how about how I ruined multiple dates, or hookups, or whatevers when someone tried to sit themselves down on top of me and I damn near shoved them off onto the floor and then had to make up some dumb fucking excuse and run out on them before I had some kind of fucking panic attack? You wanna hear all that?” Steve demands, rounding back on Eddie. “No! You don’t… you don’t want to hear that.”
“Steve… no, I don’t wanna hear all that,” Eddie says, and hurries on when he can see Steve practically crumple in on himself, “I don’t want to hear that all that horrible shit has happened to you, but I need to.”
“Wh– what?”
“You don’t… I mean, you don’t have to give me specifics if you don’t want, but I need to know what might set you off so I don’t accidentally do it, okay?” Eddie says. “It fucking terrifies me that you went through all that, and I know I can’t do anything about it, but I’m at least not going to be one more thing that makes you hurt. I’m gonna make damn sure of that.”
“…Oh.”
It’s clearly not what Steve was expecting to hear, and for a moment he shifts uncertainly in front of Eddie. He wraps his arms around himself before seeming to think better of it and crossing them over his chest instead. Eddie wants nothing more than to draw him close and hold him, but Steve’s not quite ready yet.
“I’m not… I didn’t want to say anything. I don’t want it to be an issue,” Steve finally says.
I don’t want you to treat me differently, he doesn’t say.
“Then we won’t make it an issue.” Eddie shrugs. “You got some kind of trauma associated with sitting on other people, or can you come back over here to me?”
Steve blinks at Eddie, startled, before he gives in to a little huff of laughter, slowly crossing back over to the couch.
“You’re an ass,” he says, all fondness.
“Mm, so I’ve been told,” Eddie says, aiming a smug smile up at Steve as Steve settles himself right over Eddie’s lap. “And yet, here you are.”
“Yeah…” Steve leans in, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of Eddie’s mouth, quirking a little smile as he pulls away. “Here I am.”
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jeonjcngkook · 1 year
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motor head | jjk (m)
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pairing: jungkook x female reader genre(s)&au(s): motorcyclist!jungkook, situationship / friends-with-benefits, angst, smut, pwp rating: 18+ word count: 10.2k+ warning(s)&smut warning(s): they r a little toxic w each other btw ! possessive jaykay n jealous jaykay bcs he literally cant see you around other men !!!! QATAR JAYKAY W LONG CURLY HAIR ALL IN HIS EYES LIKE PRINCE CHARMING 🤤, tattoos !!!! all out !!!!!! — thats a warning on its own :)))) - i may have also given him a giant rib tattoo bcs i hate myself that much 🤭 jaykay rides a motorcycle just in case u havent already guessed 🥲😲, biggest cawk jaykay, dirty talkinnn’, size kink bigger than his muscles !! he uses his motorcycle as a giant sex toy 🤲🏻🫠, clit play while driving, rough kisses, love bites, rough oral sex (m rec), face fucking (f rec), thigh riding & dry humping, vaginal fingering (f rec), anal fingering (f rec), spitting on her face n spitting on her ass, 💦💦, 👉🏻 degradation kink & praise kink 👈🏻, vaginal penetrative sex, unprotected sex, sex on top of a motorbike, multiple orgasms, power play sksksk, jealousy sex (????? ye kinda), orgasm denial(s), creampie. summary: jungkook doesn't like seeing someone else have your attention, so he decides he’s gonna do something about it. beta(s): @jeonspub & @pjmparadise  banner: @kth1 | @kth1fics 
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A hand fists into the back of your tank top and pulls you upright from your bent position. Looking behind you, you come eye-to-eye with Jungkook who looks like he reached his final limit with you. Seeing red, he is quick to push the man out from behind you, watching as his body struggles to keep himself standing at the force.
“Jaykay, what’s your fuckin’ problem, man?” The orange haired man you know as Jimin asks. “The little lady is just having some fun, don’t be such a spoil sport,” he jests — clearly loving the agitated reaction he is getting from Jungkook if the snarky grin on his face is anything to go by.
Jimin reaches out for you once more and drags you back towards him. He presses your back into the warmth of his chest, legs parting to accommodate you against him as one of his hands rests on your hip and the other on your thigh. You swallow when something hard presses into your ass and you fidget against it, hearing Jimin moan against your neck.
You watch on as Jungkook’s expression changes from pissed off to full blown rage within a blink of an eye.
Between you and Jungkook, things are complicated to say the absolute least. You have a past behind you as the girlfriend of a neighbouring rival gang that go against Jungkook and the rowdy crowd he hangs with. It started with sneaking around with each other behind your then boyfriends back before you took the plunge and found yourself with Jungkook indefinitely.
But things between you both aren’t as easy as it seems. Yes, you had left your boyfriend for Jungkook, but you and Jungkook had never made it official with each other.
To put it bluntly; you left your relationship with your ex for a situationship with the city’s notorious bad boy. Plainly put, you’re still single.
You laugh lightly as Jimin taunts Jungkook. You aren’t friends with any of these guys, having only met them twice before. You aren’t stupid, you can spot a hot guy when you see one and Jungkook’s so-called best friend Jimin was exactly that.
Like mentioned, you are single after all.
You tilt your head to the side to let Jimin place small kisses on your neck; both of you watching for Jungkook’s reaction. Within the snap of your fingers, Jungkook is ripping you out of the grasp of Jimin and pulling you into his arms. “She’s coming with me.”
Jungkook looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to move in the direction of his motorcycle. His heavy black boots kick the stones from under his feet as he nears his motorised vehicle, leaving space for you to hop on eventually; however, you don’t move.
“Maybe I want to stay with Jimin,” you taunt, knowing just how to push his buttons.
You watch as Jungkook rolls his eyes, pissed off and annoyed at your bothersome behaviour tonight, unsure as to what or why you’ve decided that tonight of all nights you want to wind him up.
“____, you’re testing my fucking patience. Get on the bike.”
Staying still, you keep yourself standing between the two men. You look back towards Jimin, who looks to be enjoying the scene in front of him — Jungkook tends to get what he wants when he wants, so watching you not give him that makes Jimin snicker.
The sound of Jungkook’s motorcycle comes to life as he presses into the throttle lever as far as it possibly goes, a roar of the engine tearing through the cloudy night.
You turn around to find Jungkook with his helmet over his head, leather gloves adorning his fingers as the wheels on his bike move against the gravel.
“W-wait! Jungkook, wait!”
The engine dulls down as you walk towards him. Jungkook passes you over the spare helmet he reserves for you when you ride with him as you easily slide it past your hair.You don’t need to see his face to know that he has the victory smirk on his face. Lifting your leg over the carbon fibre of the bike, you manage to slot yourself between Jungkook and the glass window at the front. 
Once again, Jungkook presses into the throttle and the bike engine rumbles beneath you both as he navigates the vehicle out of the lot, leaving everyone else behind.
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It’s been fifteen minutes of silence between you both. Nobody dares to say anything through the intercom. In those fifteen minutes though, you’ve managed to slide into a dangerous position as Jungkook steers you both down narrow streets. The motorbike vibrates at the base just below the seat and you can’t help but feel every single part of it.
You moan out loud into the intercom in your helmet, not trying to hide the pleasure that suddenly rakes through you. Deep vibrations from the hard metallic cylinders below the carbon fibre body rattle your body as Jungkook adjusts your position on the bike.
His palm applies enough pressure to push your body down, watching as your back straightens out as your chin lies against the frame of the motorcycle, giving Jungkook a clear view of the road in front of him. In your new position, you slide yourself back into Jungkook’s crotch, meeting the leather material of Jungkook’s pants and in turn trapping you in between his hard psyche and the body of the machine beneath you.
Jungkook is still in full control of the motorcycle. He presses the throttle and ups the motorbike into a higher gear. Feeling the wind pick up as you zigzag through the highway, watching as the streetlights illuminate the wet asphalt before they threaten to dim into full darkness.
The vibrations between your legs get stronger as Jungkook revs the engine, picking up speed and knowing exactly what reaction he is spurring out of you. You hear a small laugh from Jungkook, and it’s almost torturous, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.
From behind you, you can feel his eyes watching you as your legs try to close themselves to alleviate the throbbing in your core but you come up short, having the metal of the motorcycle come in between. You grind your ass further into Jungkook; feeling his cock harden at your movements.
Without thinking, you rub yourself further into the luxury Italian leather of the seat, chasing the vibrations as your pussy overflows with your own lust. You want nothing more right now than to trace your fingers past the hem of your leggings to peel away the lace that is now fully sticking to your folds uncomfortably from your arousal.
“Give me your hand.”
Removing his hand from the handlebars, Jungkook finds your wrist and wraps your fist around the rubber handle. “Press down on the throttle,” he instructs, voice stone cold and laced in confidence. You do as you're told, letting your fingers grip the lever, pressing down until it doesn’t go any further.
Behind you, Jungkook adjusts himself, fighting against your own movements; a deep gritty growl vibrating from his chest, almost mimicking the engine of his Kawasaki Ninja H2R bike. Your eyes widen in surprise when you feel something thick and hard pressing against your ass. Your cheeks warm at the realisation, your lips parting as he purposely pulls you further into him.
Jungkook’s now free hand slithers under your arm and past your clothing to place it on your hip. Your hands begin to gather sweat as he massages the skin almost comfortingly — but you know better… especially after the environment he has just pulled you out of.
“J-Jungkook, isn’t this dangerous?” you stutter nervously as your heart rate picks up. You feel Jungkook sit up a little straighter from behind you, one arm still holding onto the brake lever.
His fingertips run along the band of your leggings teasingly before his fingers dip underneath the cotton band. You can’t help but spread your legs wider on either side of the body, an instinct that has been scorned into your mind. A silent plea for Jungkook to move his hands further down. To cup your wet pussy and slide his fingers inside. To finger fucking you on the highway under the glittering city lights just to eliminate your lustfulness.
Your breath hitches in your throat as your arousal leaks further into your dampened thong.
“Jungkook?”
Ignoring you altogether, you feel three fingers press into the material of your underwear. The motorcycle below you shakes as you struggle to concentrate on the road. Jungkook’s hand finds your clit easily and begins to rub soft and slow circles. He switches the direction of his fingers, leaving you on the edge, never knowing what next he’s going to do.
“Why are you so wet, darling? Was it me or was it Jimin that got you so dirty?” He goads through the intercom — the first thing he has said to you since leaving the parking lot.
At the accusation towards Jimin, your blood runs cold. It definitely wasn’t Jimin but Jungkook had some audacity to even ask when he’s three fingers against your clit.
“We aren’t doing this if you’re going to assume like a dick.”
Your hand finds his wrist as you grab at it, keeping him in place to continue playing with your pussy. You lick your lips as his fingers peel past your thong, sliding them up and down your slit to coat his fingers  in your cum before sinking two of them inside of you, instantly knuckle deep.
Your cunt clenches around his digits  as your mind goes dizzy with desire.
Jungkook pulls his fingers out of you, feeling the heat in between your legs before he inches his fingers back inside. A rhythm of steading thrusting starts, making sure to curl them up when his knuckles meet your clit.
“I don’t think we — shit — we should do this. It’s — fuck — so dangerous.”
Jungkook is still able to navigate you around the city with one hand with your help but as the pleasure and lust courses through you from his fingers, it makes you dizzy, losing your vision on the road slightly.
“Want me to stop, darling?” Jungkook purrs into the built-in microphone.
The way his fingers fuck into you is deliriously fucking good. He knows how to reduce you to nothing but a whimpering mess for him in so many ways. You don’t want him to stop. You never want him to stop.
And Jungkook knows. He always knows. 
It’s like he can read your thoughts and leaves you hanging by a thread as he rips his hands away from your sodden core; pulling you away from any sort of pleasurable burst that was about to wash over your body any minute now.
The gasp that you exhale echoes through both of your bluetooth speakers is ear pinching as you try to come to terms with Jungkook denying you your opportunity to come. It leaves your eyes watering, pussy fluttering against nothing.
“What the fuck was that?” You pant, and a deep growl of dissatisfaction blends into your words spitefully. 
The motorcycle slows down to a stop as it reaches its ending destination. Jungkook removes the keys to the garage from his pocket, clicking the buttons to open the entrance to his workshop.
The sounds of a heavy metal garage door thunders in your ears as you’re driven into the main area of the repair store. You watch as Jungkook’s leaden black leather boot wiggles under the motorcycle against the bottom of the bike to pull the kickstand out to allow it to stand on its own. 
He is the first one to remove himself from the motorcycle, opting to run his hands through his now helmet messed hair. You follow his lead and will yourself to lift your leg over to the other side. It’s difficult to stand with the shake in your body. You’re unsure if it’s the adrenaline coursing through you or the lingering arousal you endured from the heavy vibrations.
Once you’re off the bike, you watch Jungkook off to the other side, pacing back and forth. He looks like he is having an internal battle with himself, so deep in thought that he may as well have forgotten you are there with him.
A distressed pair of leather pants hug tightly at Jungkook’s thighs, perfectly snug against the muscle underneath — all sorts of thoughts running through your mind at just how delicious his legs look in the material. It’s sinful and fucking mouth-watering. 
Made from soft black leather, his jacket has a number of badges stitched securely onto the front and sleeves. With added stripes in sanguine red and olive green, the overall look of the jacket contrasts well against the black leather. To give it a more classic ‘biker look’, Jungkook has gone as far to wax the leather material to create a more vintage, edgy worn out effect.
Jungkook catches you staring at him as he unzips the top coat, revealing a sleeveless navy blue ribbed sweater-like shirt under the classic looking jacket. Throwing the leather over his shoulder, it lands in a heap behind him and you can’t help but watch as it falls heavily on the grimy concrete floor.
But what catches your eye is the arm covered fingers to shoulder in tattoos — not a dribble of skin left untouched, and you feel yourself itching to run your fingers over the words, patterns and shapes. You swallow hard as you watch as he crosses his arms over his chest. Your eyes land centre to his bicep; the colours within the intricate artworks being put to more good use as they show off every single tight muscle in his flexed arm.
With all the effort you are able to conjure, you’re able to rip your attention away from his body, but not fast enough as you look up to see Jungkook smirking.
“What are you playing at?”
Either Jungkook doesn't hear you or he’s heard you perfectly clear and he is doing everything he can to completely ignore you. And judging by the raise of his eyebrow piercing which catches in the night light like stardust and the light scoff that you hear, it’s the latter. Typical Jungkook.
This isn’t something you’re not used to. The push and pull between the both of you is scornful. Filled with aggression and fiery delight. It’s sickening yet all too consuming at the same time. It’s every reason why you find yourself unable to stay away from him, and vice versa.
Your eyes scan around the workbench in the repair store, striking gold as you find a tape measure underneath piles of tools and equipment.
“I’m talking to you,” you throw the measuring tape at his back to grab his attention. Your words are comparable to a snake spitting at its prey — filled with poison and ready to fight. 
Your back is pressed against the adjacent wall, shortly followed by a pair of plush lips pressed against your own. The breath is knocked from your lungs and you’re unsure if it’s from being herded against the wall so abruptly or having Jungkook steal the air from such a bruising and breathtaking kiss. Either way, you hum in venomous delight as you open your mouth to allow his tongue to slither past your teeth and entangle with your own.
With one hand pressed against the wall next to your head and the other holding you still by the waist, you find yourself enjoying every moment of the dominance spilling from the man in front of you.
You reach your hands to his waist to roam underneath his ribbed crewneck style tank top, gripping the material in your hands and pushing it up and over his head. You take in his body. Completely bare for you — another tattoo etched into his beautiful skin. A Japanese traditional dragon. You see the tail starting at his hip as the body is drawn with pristine lines and dotwork all the way up his ribcage.
Wisdom, bravery and strength — traits both the dragon tattoo and Jungkook behold and symbolise. Although, his wisdom seems to vacate the second it comes to you.
You continue to take in the full sight of him. His torso is lean, and his chest and shoulders are broad and incredibly built. You have never seen anybody like him — and you doubt you’ll find anyone like him again. Healed scars, old abrasions, and bruises cover his chest and ribs and your fingertips gently travel upwards until they meet the tender marks.
His skin looks almost soft as the only format of light from the dim lamps and moonlight outside illuminates against his form. A hiss leaves his lips as you run your hands up and down his flesh, watching his eyes close tight. 
“We could have got hurt,” you whisper, the words falling on deaf ears. Jungkook doesn’t want to think about his past battles in war — not right now.
Jungkook manages to slot his leather clad thigh in between your thighs, prying your legs to open wider for him. Your leggings only did so much to conceal your arousal, yet it didn't help that there is a dampened spot in the middle of the fabric;thankfully, he can’t feel it through his own pants, yet.
“You already hurt me, _____.”
You can barely recover from the intrusion of his thigh as you lift your head, looking at Jungkook dead in the eyes as they glare down at you, dark and filled with arousal of his own.
The garage is dark and dingy looking. The smell of oil, gasoline and sweat roaming around the room. It’s somewhat fitting to the man in front of you right now. Yet as his eyes darken and you’re only now taking in your surroundings, a shiver rakes through your body.
Jungkook presses himself further into you with his thigh, watching the way your eyes flutter shut at the feeling, a loud moan you are unable to suppress is loud and clearly heard by you both.
“W-what do you mean?” Like before, Jungkook’s gloved hand finds the waistband of your leggings once more, playfully grabbing at the elastic before taking the material back and letting it snap against your skin gently. With his free hand, he travels up your tummy, the feeling of your soft skin underneath his calloused fingertip brings him a sensation of delight. He brings it further up your body to skin over your clothed tits, squeezing over the lace as he grinds his thigh further into your cunt.
“You know what I’m talking about,” Jungkook’s eyes are stone, piercing through you entirely.
Your nipples harden at his movements, eyes rolling back into the back of your skull as you try your utmost best to keep your breathing steady and under control. It’s increasingly hard to do so when Jungkook flexes his quadriceps, giving you hard muscle to drag your aching, leaking pussy over.
“With Jimin.” His hand withdraws from your body, keeping you in place with his thigh as he straightens himself back to full height, only adding to his dominant aura. It makes you feel small underneath him.
A tear is heard throughout the small room and a chill suddenly finds its way creeping up your body. You look down in horror to find the thin material of your vest has been torn in half right down the middle. Your eyes quickly find Jungkook so you can demand why but before the chance finds itself, leather is skimming the skin of your neck until it finds you by the throat. His fingers squeeze at the sides of your neck just enough to slow down your breathing, a silent warning to not say a word.
“You went against what I told you today, didn’t you?” Jungkook is the first to cut through the silence with a rhetorical question, in his honeyed voice.
You have a habit of talking back to Jungkook, never liking not having the last say in your tiffs. You open your mouth to answer but once more Jungkook is quicker in thinking, knowing you far too well, and adds a little more pressure to the side of your neck. You can’t help but groan in near delight as the light headed feeling begins to crawl up on you ever so slowly but not before you manage to get some words out. “Did I?
Jungkook remains still. His eyes boring straight into your own as if challenging you to talk back to him once more.
Nothing. Silence.
The only sound to be heard is the heavy breathing between the both of you and all you do is let out a snort of laughter, as if this whole time it’s just a game.
“I just wanted to join in with you and the boys,” you say once more through gritted teeth. “It isn’t my fault Jimin fucking likes me, is it?” 
“I don’t think Jimin ‘fucking liking you’ is the issue we have here, sweetheart. Letting him grind his cock against your ass in front of me and my boys is the problem we have.”
It didn’t matter how hard Jungkook’s hand was wrapped around your throat, the laugh that you let out was audible enough to taunt Jungkook. This was dangerous. You are in a small space filled with oils and gasoline tanks that in a single moment threatens to blow up if you keep playing with the fire inside Jungkook.
“You should have been the one to take me out on your bike then, then we wouldn’t be in this situation.” You lower yourself further onto his thigh, using your lower back to rest on the cold wall behind you. With everything in you, you use it to your advantage to keep you in your sitting position, essentially sitting on Jungkook’s thigh as you begin to press down harder, moving your hips back and forth to fuck yourself on him.
“Things may have gotten a little out of hand when he was showing me his bike,” you slide the straps of your bra off of your shoulders to pull the cups down and let your tits spill out. You feel the fingers on your throat loosen lightly, Jungkook’s eyes flickering down as he watches you grope your tits in your hands yourself this time. “He may have bent me over it a little too much and he may have pressed himself against me a little too hard when showing me the paintwork; but when was any of this my problem?” 
No response comes from Jungkook. Instead, his grip on your neck falls completely in turn for slapping your hands out of the way to fist your boobs in his leather fists himself, watching as the skin peeks through the spaces of his fingers. The feeling of air returning to your body spurs you on further, gives you a newfound energy that you use to fuck yourself with. You’re so desperate to come that the pace of you riding his thigh increases, pleasure shoots up your spine and you let out a cry of arousal, your body is so wired it feels like your clit is making direct contact to his cock on every stoke.
In fact, Jungkook does nothing to stop you from chasing your high — what's strange is that he starts to encourage you to use him to get yourself off. He lifts his leg higher and further into you, flexing his thigh as tight as possible as he plants his hands on either side of your waist to help guide you, pushing and pulling you with both hands.
“Jungkook, kiss me,” you plead, voice light.
“No.”
Your eyes snap open at his denial to your request. He has never denied you a kiss before. Jungkook loves making out with you so this is brand new territory for you to be in and you’re unsure if you’re enjoying the answer. You don’t have the option to ask why before you get your answer.
“Don’t deserve it.”
Your eyes become glassy as little tears fill your eyes. Not because of Jungkook’s rejection, well, a little because of that, but because he fucking smirks as he tells you no and continues to pulls you harder into him.
Jungkook leans down towards your mouth and you follow him, leaning in to connect his mouth with yours, thinking he was just playing games with his previous refusal. But at the last possible second, he twists his face away from yours until his lips are grazing against your earlobe, grunts of pleasure and warm breathing warming your skin.
“I fucking love how wet you get for me,” Jungkook croons as he takes your earlobe in between his teeth and grazes it lightly. “I’ll kiss you when you’ve come.”
You jerk your hips erratically against his thigh faster and faster, your climax in fucking sight. “Jungkook, it would have felt so good to have you bending me down on top of the motorcycle instead,” you start, words etching a repetive image in Jungkook’s mind of you and Jimin once again. “To feel your arms around me. Your weight on top of me, your cock hard and heavy against me —, " you moan, continuing to grind against him, watching how Jungkook twitches and swells under the leather of his pants.
This time it’s Jungkook’s turn to groan, trying to angle his body in a way that his cock is beneath you, to have you aide both yourself and Jungkook at the same time, but to his dismay he can’t find it; the material not being too kind in stretching enough for him.
Your breathing becomes stuttered as a string of swear words leaves your lips as your orgasm washes over you. And as promised, Jungkook finds your jaw in his hand and brings your face up to meet his own before crashing his soft cherry red lips against your own.
He kisses you deeply with soft lips and a wet tongue that presses into the seam of your lips, begging for entrance. Your lips part obediently as you glide your tongue against his own. The taste of desperation and lustful desire on the tip of both of your tongues and you can’t help but moan softly, so saccharine sweetly for him.
In between the kiss, you feel a large hand at the back of your neck, fingers tangling into your hair as they tug at the root to pull you away from his mouth. Jungkook’s rougher nature starts to make an appearance and you can’t help but squirm in anticipation of what is to follow. The thoughts of him pinning you down just like you had asked in the midst of your pleasure moments ago swirls in your mind, causing goosebumps to rise on the back of your neck.
“If I had been anywhere near you earlier then I wouldn’t have been able to fucking stop myself from being the one to bend you over, waist down against my own bike just to fuck you hard and rough in plain sight of everyone around us.”
A puddle forms in your mouth at his words; unable to swallow as you picture the image in your mind of Jungkook doing exactly that with a crowd around you. You know he has a vouyeristic nature and a tendency to participate in exhibitionism but knowing he would go as far as too fuck you in front of a group of his friends, strangers to you, sets your body ablaze. 
A fresh wave of arousal pools in your already soaked underwear as you muster up the courage to move around his thigh once more. But unluckily for you, Jungkook removes his thigh from between your legs and gives you a dry humourless laugh as he sees you trying to put the imagery in your mind.
“I can’t believe you’d fucking let me do that. Look at yourself — it’s pathetic.”
“I didn’t say I would let you do that.” Jungkook raises his tattoo arm and lands it on the wall behind him, keeping the other side free, knowing that if you wanted to leave, you would take the exit.
“You didn’t have to say anything. I can read it all over your body. Why else did you end up getting on the back of my motorcycle again tonight? Because it sure as shit wasn’t for a night cruise… not with me.”
You swallow hard as Jungkook bends down again so he’s face to face with you.
“Your mouth is watering for me. Your heart is pounding and I can fucking feel it. And now, the lower I get,” he stops to lick at the ring at the corner of his mouth and your eyes flit down to watch as he does. Watching as his tongue runs along his lower lip, wetting it as he goes before his tongue slithers back into his mouth and protrudes at the corners. “I can feel the desperation clinging to you for me to kiss you right now. Slow. Hard. Passionate. My tongue running down your neck. Taking in the smell of your arousal,” he punctuates his words by letting his palm squeeze at your tit again and sliding his hands down over your bare ribs.
Your eyes flutter shut as your hand firmly grips his wrist. Jungkook stops his movements, waiting for you to stop what’s going on between the two of you. But it never comes. Instead, you tighten your grip on his wrist and begin to slither it towards the elastic of your bottoms once again.
“Then what?” You moan, anticipating his next movement.
It’s clear to see that Jungkook is just as affected by this as you are. The deep movement in his Adams Apple suggesting he is swallowing hard to keep himself under control gives it away.
“Then I’d slid my fingers right under here,” and he does but goes no further than the lace hem of your underwear, “I’d make you come first around my fingers. Then on my tongue. Then on my fucking cock,” he whispers the last part as he presses himself into you, making you feel just how aroused is his. His cock, thick and hard against your pelvis. “Fast, hard, rough sex that you know deep down you’re craving from me right now.”
His fingers stop rubbing against your skin, forcing you to look up to find him with his eyes closed and jaw clenched together. “Too bad I’m not going to be the one to give it to you… Go ask Jimin, he seemed up for it.” The last sentence is said with spite as if the name of his best friend is nothing but searing poison dripping from his own tongue.
Stunned into silence, you roll your eyes. Of course this is still about Jimin. “Fuck you.”
Though his back is turned to you, you watch as Jungkook stops in his stride and opts for twisting his neck from side to side — cracking of his bones heard in the eerie quiet. You can’t see his expression but you know you’ve possibly overstepped the mark but right now, you can’t see anything other than blind vicious venom for the man in front of you.
“What did you say to me?”
Ignoring the warning bells that ring and rattle in your head over and over, you tell yourself you need to do this.
“You heard exactly what I said. You’re so caught up in your own messed up thoughts that you can’t see that I’m standing here right in front of you. I’ve always been right in front of you. You fuck me when you please but then you’re so quick to toss me away the second something so miniscule gets too hard for you to deal with. You pick me up just to throw me away like an old toy a child doesn’t want anymore. I’m not yours to just use and tear apart when you want. You don’t care about those around you enough to think about the repercussions of your shitty actions. So fuck you.”
You toss your head back in relief that you have finally been able to lift the dead weight off of your shoulders. If this is how you and Jungkook will end, then at least you did it with your pride intact standing up for yourself. You let out a deep breath  as you try to zip up your jacket to cover your torn clothes.
With your head down in concentration, you’re unaware that Jungkook has come back and reaches for both your wrists, pinning them against the wall above your head, and he doesn’t look happy. His eyes are narrowed, glaring into you as if he can see through you, burning holes straight into the granite behind you. His jaw is flexed, shut tight, and his nose is scrunched up at the tip — not in the way you’ve come to love, but in a way that carries fear.
“Well if you aren’t mine, then who is it you belong too, huh?”
“That’s not what I mea-.”
Your sentence is cut off as his lips crash against yours hard. His teeth instantly pull on your lower lip to allow himself the satisfaction of tangling his tongue with your own. The kiss is passionate, filled with loathing and untold love for the other. Your eyes shut slowly into the kiss as you fight your wrists out of his hold in favour of wrapping them around his neck and pulling him against you forcefully.
You tug at the roots of Jungkook’s hair, breaking the kiss and watching as saliva connects your lips to his still. Your own body shivers as you take in the state of his hair dishevelled from your tugging and the motions of his chest rising and falling over and over in quick paces from being out of breath with just one kiss.
“Tell me. Who. Do. You. Belong. To?”
One more tug at his hair and you regain your fight. “You have no right to think I belong to you. Not anymore.”
“You like it when I do though, don’t try and fight what you already know to be true,” Jungkook answers, his voice low and gravelly.
Once again, Jungkook’s mouth is back on you with fiery desire. Teeth and tongue clash against each other in the fight for dominance within the kiss. You relinquish, knowing damn well that you would never win anyway, but the fight is part of the fun. He captures your lip back in between his teeth and nips hard enough that a tingling feeling reaches your lips, and you think he’s kissed you hard enough to draw blood. If that’s the case, Jungkook isn’t one bit bothered. Jungkook’s drawn blood before — the lashes and scars on his body are a testament to that.
Jungkook’s mouth detaches from yours and travels across your cheek toward your ear like he did earlier.
“You’re mine, you got that?”
“God, you’re such an asshole,” you spit, looking back at him with hooded eyes. 
Jungkook sucks on your neck just below your ear, knowing exactly how to provoke you. The sweet spot on your body that only he knows. His mouth is greedy and careless as his teeth nibble hard at one spot and then another before his tongue immediately soothes the burn of your flesh. And yet all at the same time, you never want the burn to stop. You want him to keep going — to fully burst into flames and burn you with him.
But it isn’t like he was wrong. It didn’t matter how often you fought it never took away from the fact that you were absolutely, irrevocably his. A truth you cling to, never wanting that to change. And it may be toxic to fight and fix it with a fuck but right now you can’t help but need him right fucking now.
Jungkook just laughs, working one of his hands up to the nape of your neck to grab your hair and pull hard at the roots. You don’t fight back the moan that escapes your lips and instead you welcome the action with a salacious grin, feeling him exhale against your warm flesh.
You can tell he is needy as he furthers himself down to your chest, arms pulling the jacket off of your shoulders, ripped vest along with it. He continues to suck in mouthfuls of your skin, watching as it darkens and then placing more tiny little kisses around the sensitive area.
“I honestly hate you sometimes, Jungkook.”
Every moan, every whimper you release is for him. Moving your head side to side, you give Jungkook an all-access pass to every part of you. You shiver at the thought that the next time you’re with his friends will be when you’re going to be marked up all pretty, teeth marks and love bites littering your neck, chest and skin. Visible proof that Jungkook has claimed you as his.
“Want you on your knees, need to see how badly you wanna be mine.”
It’s almost embarrassing how quickly you obey his words as you lower yourself to your knees right before him. With your head at the same height as his hips, you can  see the hard length straining against his right thigh. Jungkook doesn’t waste time undoing the two buttons above his bulge before unzipping his leather pants — the sound of it ringing loudly in your ears and your mouth drools at the thought of what is to come next.
Jungkook pulls the tight leather down to his mid thigh, just enough for you to see his cockhead poking out the seam of his Tom Ford boxers. It’s a bright pretty peach shade, smeared in white slick from the precum that has been gathering since the start of the night.
“You hate me all of a sudden, yeah?” Jungkook asks mockingly, a growl vibrating from his chest.
It doesn’t even matter how often you see his length hard and ready, it always leaves you speechless, wanting nothing more than for him to take the words out of your mouth and replace it with his cock.
Noticing that your eyes are trained on his dick, Jungkook’s hand immediately plunges into the band of his boxers and fishes his cock out for you to admire fully. The pride is written all over his face as your mouth drops open slowly and you lick the corners of your mouth, then the skin of your lower lip. Jungkook bends down at his waist and tilts your head to the side to face you away from him before he spits on your cheek, a loud whimper leaving your lips. Jungkook watches as your head turns back towards him, eyes filled with lust as you feel it drip down your face.
“You want to hate me that much but look at you covered in me,” he degrades as he pulls you towards his cock and smears his spit and precum around the side of your cheek. “You can’t hate me that much sweetheart.” 
You hear him sucking air through his teeth as your hand reaches up to run your fingertips over the protruding veins that run from the flushed, weeping mushroom head down to the base before handling his balls in your palms and giving one tight squeeze. You smile to yourself knowing just how affected he is. Affected by your touch, how it’s you that brings him to a halt. He hisses as your hand wraps around his shaft.
He is long, hard,and sensitive to the touch. Thick from base to tip, deep purple veins are prominent against his skin which decorate his cock so prettily within the wetness of pearly pearlescent cum. Your hand is barely big enough to close around him fully, making Jungkook laugh dryly at your feeble attempt.
However, you’re quick to shut him up as you squeeze his cock a few times, feeling him throb, his body tensing. 
The yellow street lamps continue to stream through the small window and it’s just unfair how a dingy alleyway lamp can compliment him so beautifully. It creates a halo-like backdrop around him, almost teasing you enough to think heaven really lost their most sacred one; only you know that Jungkook is nothing but sin and inevitable danger. He runs a hand through his curly onyx shaded hair, allowing multiple curls to fall into his face and in front of his eyes and you can feel the desperation within you become all too consuming as it swallows you whole.
Taking his length into both of your hands, you feel how heavy it is in your hands, and you ache to feel the weight of it on top of your tongue. The glisten of cum leaking from his slit tempts you enough to unlock your jaw and pull yourself forward towards him. Your mouth wraps around his head the smallest amount, teasingly, eyes staring straight up at Jungkook as your tongue circles his slit for his taste.
You savour the saltiness of his pre-cum, making sure to suck at the slit to paint your wet muscle with more tangy goodness. Starting off slow, you kitten lick the head, coating his cock in saliva to ready yourself for taking him in further.
Your mouth sinks down further, passing his cockhead and taking in some of the delicious thickness of his length. Your lower lip drags over the underside of his cock, massaging the vein with every suck.
“Ah shit, such a good little cockwhore,” Jungkook hisses into the open, steadying himself with one hand on the wall behind you.
Looking up at him with lust behind your lashes, you keep eye contact with him as your mouth slowly makes its way further down on him and Jungkook closes his eyes and inhales a long deep sigh and lets it out through his nose as he groans. “Yeah, looks like you fucking love me or is just my cock down your throat you’re falling for?”
Jungkook’s words are accompanied by a tender hand to the cheek where the mixture of spit and cum has dried up. His thumb caressing you back and forward. You close your eyes and focus on taking him deeper into your mouth. Your willpower takes hold of you as you sink further down until you feel your nose touch the small hairs at the lowest part of his tummy where his pubic hair rests.
Moans fall around his cock as you feel your own arousal pooling in your centre, wettening your inner thighs as you squeeze them tightly to ease the thrumming inside your pussy. One of your hands falls to his balls, cupping them and gently massaging them. The hand that isn’t currently holding his body weight finds the roots of your hair once more and tugs it hard at the sensation.
“Lean back honey and let me fuck your mouth.”
Jungkook’s cock falls from your mouth, leaving your lips connected to his cockhead by three thick slivers of spit cum mix. Your knees ache now and your throat burns but you know that you will do anything to please Jungkook so you decide to sit back on your bottom and rest your head against the cold wall as Jungkook’s thighs move either side of you.
With you now pinned up against the wall, you open your mouth once again and let Jungkook press forward, enveloping his whole cock inside your mouth. Your eyes squeeze tight as you start to gag around him. The sounds of you struggling to accommodate his thickness spurs Jungkook on further as he starts to piston himself in and out of your mouth over and over before halting his movements and holding himself at the back of your throat. Mascara from your lashes starts to puddle under your eyes as you struggle to breath past the thickness stuffed in your mouth.
“Relax your mouth, honey,” Jungkook croaks out, too lost in his own pleasure.
Doing as you’re told, you manage to relax further which gives Jungkook enough room to push past the tightness of your throat to fuck further into the tight tunnel.
“Shit, such a good girl. You’re so wet around my cock; oh f-fuck baby, take it, d-deeper.” The words of encouragement made you smile the best you can, even with a mouth filled with cock. He pulls out once more and your body gasps for as much air as you possibly can before he is back inside you.
Your gag reflex plays up every so often as Jungkook fucks into you like it’s the last time he’s ever going to see you. Focusing on your breathing helps aid the intrusion as he keeps up the hard rhythm he has his hips going in.
Feeling his hips stutter, you know he’s close. You moan loudly around his dick, the vibrations coating his shaft as he lets out the loudest moan he has of the night. You swallow around his cock, making sure to hollow out your cheeks the best you can, wanting nothing more than to see the man you love come completely undone, spilling his love for you into your awaiting tongue.
But it’s like he can read your mind as he removes himself from your mouth, watching as your eyes widen in confusion.
“Wha-why didn’t you come?” You ask, your voice hoarse.
Leaning down, Jungkook pulls you back to your feet and then lifts you into his embrace, his hands under your ass to keep you steady as you wrap your own arms around his neck and legs around his tiny waist to secure yourself. Jungkook presses you against the wall and leans in to kiss you again. It’s not gentle but it isn’t as rough as his last few kisses have been. His tongue is still insistent but you allow him to meet your own tongue with no hesitation. You feel his dick twitch against your inner thigh.
“If I'm going to come, then it’ll be inside your pussy.”
You whimper at his promise and kiss him hard on the lips again as he walks you both away from the wall. You’re lowered back onto your feet, Jungkook taking a hold of each of your shoulders and turning you around until your back is facing him.
Realising you’re standing in front of Jungkook’s motorcycle, you swallow hard at what’s to come. His hands slide down your back, following the trail of your bare spine before stopping at the small of your back. His heavy booted foot slithers its way in between your thighs and pries your legs open, watching as they spread for  him.
What comes next is a shock to you. Jungkook crouches down below you, one palm on your clothed ass cheek and the other in between your legs, rubbing back and forth on your pussy. The damp spot grows with every flick of his fingertips on your clit and Jungkook makes sure to apply added pressure to the sensitive nub as he rubs.
With no warning, a tearing sound from behind you is heard and your mouth falls open in disbelief. Cold air meets your ass and that’s when it dawns on you that Jungkook has completely torn your leggings from the back. Your body hurls forward as he continues to tear the cotton material until your full ass is exposed to him. Mortification and unadulterated desire creeps up on you, warming your skin and setting your tummy alight at the realisation of the situation. But Jungkook doesn’t finish there. Grabbing the lace of your underwear, he pulls with all his strength at the article of clothing and rips them apart too. They stay on your body by your hips but the middle of your underwear is torn and dangling in between your thighs, pussy now in his vision.
Your pussy drips embarrassingly for him as your legs stay spread wide for his own enjoyment and pleasure. It’s so fucking degrading and yet you can’t seem to get enough of pleasing him.
Taking the situation into your own hands, you grab at your asscheeks and pull them apart to give Jungkook all the access to your dripping core. “Jungkook? Look how wet I am for you, baby.” You wiggle your ass left and right and back again, taunting Jungkook to touch you.
“Filthy fucking girl.” Jungkook caresses your ass. A hand is lifted and is brought down just as quick to slap you across your left asscheek.
You snort at his attempts, knowing just how to rile him up. “Is that all you got?” You grin and even though he can’t see you, you know he knows you’re grinning. He can hear it in your tone. You arch your back slightly, sticking your ass out toward him. 
He slaps you once more, this time to the right listening to you hiss at the contact, prompting him to smack you again on the other side, and again back on the left — alternating cheeks until your ass is searing warm and you’re a babbling drooling mess. Jungkook dips his hands back down in between your legs and a string of curse words are sworn out loud when he finds your pussy wetter than when he started.
“Please Jungkook, I want you,” you beg, knowing you mean it in more ways than one.
You're waiting for Jungkook to do something as you stand there in front of him, pussy dripping and skin searing. Looking over your shoulder, what you didn't expect was for Jungkook to walk away from you towards his workbench filled with all kinds of equipment for fixing up bikes. You watch as he picks up something red but his body shields most of the item from your prying eyes.
He comes back and you see that the item is long and dangles from his hands as he holds it in two hands. Jungkook picks your hands up from holding your ass and places them at the bottom of your back before binding the item around your wrists.
It’s when you feel the thick PVC that you realise he has tied your hands with a pair of jumper cables. What is even more mortifying is after he finishes tying up the leads, he bends you forward onto his bike with your tits pressed against the leather of the seat in the exact same compromising position that Jimin had you in earlier in the night. But this time it’s Jungkook, and you’re bound to his liking awaiting his cock.
“Don’t fucking like seeing what’s mine with anyone else… especially not fucking Jimin,” he snarls.
Jungkook spits from behind you into his palm and grips his cock, fucking his fist in eager strokes at your bound bent state right in front of him. He pushes his cock down to swipe through your folds, catching your arousal and coating himself in your wetness — a messy concoction mixed with his own cum and spit.
“Whenever you’re in this position, you’ll be reminded that I’m the one who fucked you raw on their motorcyle.” Jungkook pushes into you at the end of his speech while his hands slither to your hips and grips the skin tight.
Usually Jungkook preps you before he fucks you, using his fingers and tongue to open you up for him — stretching you wide to fit his thick length inside but other than him finger fucking you earlier in the night, there was nothing.
The bulbous head of his dick presses further into you until it finally passes past your tight hole, stretching your cunt open, the burn welcomed almost immediately as your head falls forward and you whimper at the pained pleasure.
You manage to keep your breathing steady as your lips are caught in between your teeth to stop yourself from moaning further. Your cunt flutters around him as he continues to push himself forward; struggling to take him in fully from the lack of foreplay. You can only thank the high heavens above that Jungkook let you use his thighs to get off, to get you wet in preparation of his cock because without it, you’re absolutely sure that he would have had you apart just like your clothing. Soiled and ripped into two halves.
“So big…” you whisper, beginning to feel the lightheadedness creep over you.
Jungkook helps slightly by pushing you off his cock until it is just the tip sheathed inside your cunt before he pulls you right back into him — his cockhead already pressing against your cervix as your pussy stretches to accommodate him — moulding itself into the perfect shape just for Jungkook. Folds white and creamy each time he pulls out, just how he likes it.
Your walls relax enough to allow Jungkook to start pulling and pushing you onto his cock. You spread your legs further for him, the new space allows your body to accept him easier. Jungkook swears as he eventually bottoms out within you, hot and swollen.
“Am I giving you everything you wanted, sweetheart?” Jungkook snarls, “my little cocksleeve.”
Your mouth drops open as Jungkook keeps rolling his hips into you, feeling every inch he feeds into your greedy cunt. The bike beneath you both shifts and you hear the metal from the kickstand below grind against the floor, the machine threatening to fall but this only goads Jungkook to fuck you harder.
All that radiates from Jungkook right now is power and dominance as he completely takes over your body, using it as his own personal fucking toy. His cock manages to glide inside you with such ease, reaching deep inside of you. Each thrust accompanied by a feral grunt, as if he is putting everything he has  into each pump of his cock. The sounds of the skin of his hips and thighs meeting yours fill the darkened room. Your duet of moans loud enough to be heard on the other side of the town.
“God, Jungkook! You fuck me so good — keep going — .”
Jungkook keeps up his pace, fucking into you rough, breaking his own promise from earlier. He sinks his cock back in with ease, the squelching of your cum, and skin slapping mixed with your harmonious moans fill the room. The site of your ass rippling with every thrust makes his mouth water. His hand grips your flesh and lets his fingers dig in, giving it a spank… and again twice, and thrice for his own pleasure of watching your body bounce for him.
Reaching forward, Jungkook finds your clit and circles it with two long slender fingers. You tremble beneath him, feeling your body tense as your orgasm approaches.
“Want to play with your ass,” he goads, knowing exactly how much satisfaction you gain from it. Undeniably, him too.
As quick as his fingers find your clit, they are removed and you almost let out a whine of disappointment. You’re not fast enough to give him an answer to his question before Jungkook takes his two fingers and presses them against the tight ring of your asshole, teasing little circles on your hole.
The sensation gives you flutters in your tummy, your pussy clenching at the promise of being completely filled with every part of Jungkook. Without warning, he presses his two fingers further, breaching your tight hole and immediately curling his fingers inside.
The feeling of his fingers inside your ass as he fucks your pussy makes your cunt flutter around him, which also allows your ass to tighten around his fingers too. Your hands try to reach out for Jungkook but the movement brings a nasty reminder that your wrists are still tied by the jump leads, leaving you craving to touch him even more.
You can't do anything but lie against his motorcycle as he fucks into you from behind with a ruthless pace, pushing your body into the bike.
You cry out when he finds that earthshaking spot inside of your ass. "Yes, right there," you cry.
Grunting, Jungkook makes sure he concentrates on that spot in your ass. Pulling his fingers all the way out, spitting on them to lube them back up and then pushing back into you knuckle deep. The sounds of his cock fucking into your cunt, wet obscene squealching sounds, his fingers in your ass and the slapping of skin picks up and it’s the most erotic sounds the both of you have ever heard. It may be the best sex you have both ever had.
It doesn’t take much more — just a few more drags of his fingers in your tight ass with his tattooed fingers as he continues to impale you right down on his cock until you cum, almost blacking out from how forceful your orgasm is. It's breathtaking and you can't keep your eyes open as he fucks into you, spurts of your cum splattering him as you struggle to breathe.
Jungkook moans, pushing harder into you while you are still working through your orgasm. Cunt tight and pulsing around his length, he smirks when you squeal out his name again. 
“Another.” He demands, keeping up the harsh slap of his hips.
Jungkook fills your ass with a second finger this time. The arrival of his middle finger is a tight squeeze but he manages to fit it alongside his forefinger perfectly. You feel your muscles constrict around his fingers at the new intrusion. Your cum spilling out of your used pussy as Jungkook fucks you raw like his own filthy possession. Like his own dirty fleshlight.
Your head turns swiftly to the side to see Jungkook above you. His hair is in a disarray, small droplets of sweat hiding behind his tresses of hair, allowing strands upon strands to stickily cling to his face. You watch as his abdomen flexes with each stroke, the deep V lines of his pelvis appearing and disappearing with every thrust. His cock exits you covered in your white viscid lust from your first orgasm as your second nears.
“I’m coming —,”
He looks monstrous with eyes dark and dilated with lust as his lips are caught in between his canines, expression clouded with carnality. He looks so beautiful like this. In the midst of his own pleasure.
You feel your body tense all over as your second orgasm rips through you. “Right there, please, I-I’m coming,” you scream, head blank and dizzy from the pleasure as you come all over again. Your body is tense and tears fall from your lashes and coats your cheeks in wetness. You mewl and scream, Jungkook plunging his cock harder and harder into you, coaching you through your high.
Pulling out of you, Jungkook pulls you off of his bike with the jump cable lead in his hand and guides you to your knees. Jungkook tilts his head to the side as your mouth envelopes him once more, opting to suck on his cock rough and fast.
He gathers his fists on top of your head to still your head as he begins to fuck into your throat with renowed vigor. Your eyes close as you taste both your own cum and Jungkook’s salty essence all at once. You relax your jaw to allow Jungkook to push himself past the tightness of your throat as he gives out a feral grunt with every stroke of his cock.
“So eager to have your mouth stuffed with my cum, aren’t you!?”
You hum at the praise, mouth too full to tell him exactly how it makes you feel as you squeeze your eyes closed in pleasure. With one final thrust, Jungkook stills his hips, his cock blanketed by your oesophagus at the back of your throat, leaving you gagging and coughing. Spurts of warm cum paint the back of your mouth as you feel him slide out of you as he reaches his orgasm. White sticky cum coats every part of your throat, tongue, and cheeks as you look up into his eyes, tongue hanging out for more.
You both put your lips back around his dick and suckle softly on the tip, tongue teasing the slit for more cum. Jungkook falls back slightly, using his elbows to prop his weight up against the workstation his tools are on.
You pull away from his cock, making a loud ‘pop’ as your lips leave his head. You shower his dick with small kitten kisses, feeling it soften against your lips.
“Jimin will never be able to fuck you like I do, sweetheart, just remember that.”
Again, warmth radiates all over your body at his words — the knowledge of you being his and his only gives you a prideful buzz.
Titling your head to look at Jungkook, who is towering over you, you smile a sweet saccharine smile and wink. “Jimin will never be able to fuck me like you,” you agree. “But what about Taehyung?” 
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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 4 months
Text
The Danger Zone (Part 11) - Hangman
Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC
Word Count: 4.0k
This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY
Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Background Relationships; Medical Appointments; Suggestive Comments; Discussion of Mental Health (Depression, Anxiety, Post-Partum); Discussions of Goose and Carole; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description
Summary: You and Jake move in together and attend your twenty-week appointment.
Series Master List
Master List
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A week and a half later, you were moving into Jake’s apartment officially. The two of you, with some help from Phoenix and Coyote, had already moved all of the smaller items out of your apartment. Bradley and Mav also stopped by—when Jake wasn’t there—to take some of the more sentimental items to hold onto for you in their bigger homes. 
So, all that was left were a few pieces of furniture. You sold some of your furniture but decided to either keep or store or give away the other pieces. And that meant that someone had to drag it down the stairs and shove it into the back of Jake’s truck or the trailer that Maverick brought. 
“Don’t even think about it,” Jake stated, watching as you rearranged the chairs around the table. 
“What?”
“You’re not carrying anything. It’s all heavy and we’re not risking you hurting yourself,” Jake insisted, walking over to you. “Just relax.”
“I think I can drag a chair a few inches,” you stated, shooting Jake a playful look. “But I won’t carry anything heavy. Promise.”
“Thank you,” Jake replied softly. “How’re they today?”
“I think I’m feeling flutters, but I don’t really know. I only seem to feel them when I’m trying to sleep, so I don’t know if I’m imaging them.”
Your twenty-week appointment was about a week away and both of you were a bit anxious about it. Of course, every first-time parent worried about the worst case-scenario at that appointment. That they were going to get some kind of news that would change the little fairytale that they built up in their mind. 
“Only when you’re trying to sleep?”
“Yeah, I think so. Why?” 
“It’s like they’re teasing you. Or trying to stress you out more.” 
“They’re stubborn, that’s all.”
“They get it from both sides,” Jake replied, brushing his fingers down your bump. 
“Hopefully, they’re not too stubborn coming out,” you stated, glancing down at your bump as Jake took a step closer to you. Smiling up at him, you let out a chuckle. “What?”
“I’m just thinking about all the gas I’ll save when I don’t have to drive over here anymore," he explained, causing you to raise an eyebrow.
“The gas, of course,” you hummed. 
You let out a louder giggle as Jake leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek and then down your neck. The two of you, since your kiss in the kitchen, had gotten a lot more comfortable and handsy with each other over the next few days. You hadn’t taken it all the way yet, both of you were still cautious about pushing too hard too fast, but you seemed to be moving in that direction. It was starting to remind you of how the two of you were before you found out that you were pregnant. 
Jake pressed a lingering kiss to your lips as his strong arms pulled you closer. And as you tangled your hand in his hair, returning the kiss, you heard the door to your apartment open. You turned your head and reflexively pushed Jake off of you when you saw Maverick standing there. 
“Hey, Mav,” you greeted awkwardly, running a hand through your hair. “Thanks for coming.”
“Of course. Though you looked as if you weren’t expecting company,” Maverick quipped, working on his key ring. 
“I can explain,” Jake stated, causing Maverick to shake his head. 
“You already got her pregnant, Jake. There’s not much left to explain beyond that.”
“Mav,” you sighed, feeling like a teenager again. 
“Trailer’s parked out front. I didn’t know how you wanted to divide things up. Penny said that she would bring lunch over to your new apartment. And Bradley told me that he was leaving a couple minutes ago.”
“Great,” Jake replied dryly. 
“There's not too much left at least,” you stated, trying to perk Jake up. “But I have to give the key back to my landlord, Mav.”
Maverick pulled your spare key off of his chain and handed it over to you before turning to Jake. The two of them started to carry stuff downstairs to the trailer or Jake’s truck while you started to sweep up and do your final round of cleaning so that your landlord didn’t charge you extra. 
Jake and Maverick were out by the trailer, sliding your dresser into the back when Rooster walked over with his keys in hand. Leaning on the trailer wall, Rooster and Jake shared a glare before Bradley turned to Maverick. 
“Emma’s going to meet us there with Penny. I’ll text her when we’re finished up here.”
“We’ve still got a few trips left before that,” Maverick reported, walking over to Bradley. “We’re going to do the couch next.”
Bradley nodded and turned to head inside with Mav, leaving Jake to walk by himself. Jake wasn’t too perturbed. He was expecting the treatment from Bradley and the fact that Maverick hadn’t pushed him down the stairs after seeing the two of you together felt like a small victory. 
You were wiping down the counters when they returned to your apartment. You moved to greet your brother before the three of them walked over to your couch. You stood a bit nervously by the door, holding it open for them. 
“Please don’t hurt yourselves,” you told them as they started to carry it out. 
“We’ll be fine,” Jake assured you as he passed by. 
You watched them go before shutting the door. Moving over to the window, you sat down and watched for them. It was only three floors, but you knew that you wouldn’t be able to focus until the three of them emerged together. You weren’t so worried that the couch would be too heavy or anything like that. You were more concerned that they would use it to hurt each other. 
Jake and Bradley carried the ends of the couch while Maverick stood in the middle. Bradley stood on the lower set of stairs, simply because Jake wasn’t stupid and refused to step down first. Otherwise, he wasn’t confident that he would make it down to the bottom of the stairs. Not without a crack in the back of his head. Again, he wasn’t stupid. 
“Lift it up more,” Bradley grunted as they tried to turn one of the last corners. 
“I am,” Jake huffed back at him. 
“I wouldn’t have asked if you just did it,” Bradley snapped at Jake.
“Just lift, both of you,” Maverick stated firmly, shooting them both a look. 
They managed to walk around the corner with the couch and down the last set of stairs before setting the couch down on the floor to catch their breath and relieve their muscles. Bradley leaned on the couch, glaring over at Jake as Jake stretched his arms casually. Maverick was silent, but he was clearly watching them. 
“So, why are we moving my sister into your tiny apartment again, Hangman?” 
“Her lease is up and we’re having a baby together,” Hangman stated, like Rooster was as dumb as a brick. 
“And you couldn’t even get an apartment with enough room for a crib in it?” 
“Bradley,” Maverick stated, shooting him a look.  
“There’s enough room for a crib,” Jake snapped back at Bradley. “We already mapped it out. We wrote down the exact dimensions that we need. And even if we didn’t, it’s none of your fucking business, Rooster.” 
“Jake,” Maverick sighed, turning to the annoyed aviator. 
“It is my business when it involves my sister and my niece or nephew.” Bradley straightened up, staring Jake down. “She told me that you were looking at houses, but yet she said that she hasn’t been to any house showings. Why is that?” 
“None of your fucking business, Rooster.” 
“It’s not? Because it sounds like you’re selling a fantasy to my sister that you’re never actually going to deliver.” 
“That’s enough,” Maverick replied to both of them. 
“You would want your sister to just move into the first house that we found and could close on?” Jake stated, staring Bradley down. “We’re looking. But there’s other things that are more pressing that we have to deal with. But again, it’s none of your fucking business.” 
“And does she know that? Have you told her that?” 
“Alright, pick up your ends, let’s get it put into the trailer,” Maverick snapped, effectively ending the argument. 
You watched from above as Jake, Bradley, and Maverick walked out to the trailer with the couch. Letting out a breath of relief, you got up and turned to clean once again. There was just the tables, chairs, and another small dresser left, which Jake, Bradley, and Maverick carried down in three more trips. 
When it was all cleaned up, you took a moment to walk through the empty rooms, reminiscing about the memories that the place brought you. It was a sanctuary for you for a time. An escape, really. But it was an apartment for a version of you that was quickly disappearing and in a few short months would be gone completely.
You had grown out of it. And it was time to move on. 
“You alright?” Jake asked softly, standing at the threshold of the apartment.
“Yeah,” you replied, turning to him with a small smile. “I’m okay.” 
Picking up the keys, you walked over to Jake, pressed a kiss to his lips, and headed out. And into the new phase of your life. 
~~~~~
You and Jake arrived at your shared apartment first, since Maverick and Bradley were dropping off some stuff at their respective houses first. Penny was waiting for you in the parking lot and Jake assured you that he would be fine carrying everything himself. 
“So, how’d moving out go?” Penny asked you as you walked up the stairs. Your now shared apartment was on the third floor, so it was one less set of stairs than your previous apartment. “Pete gave me a brief overview.” 
“He probably knows better than me. He was the one who was dealing with them,” you sighed, pulling out your new set of keys. “I just want them to be able to coexist. They don’t have to like each other. Hell, they don’t even need to speak to each other. I just need them to be able to sit in the same room and not try to kill each other.” 
“They’re both stubborn and set in their ways,” Penny replied, shaking her head. “Have you talked to Emma about Bradley?” 
“Yeah, but there’s only so much she can do. Ever since Mom died, he’s always felt the need to be so protective over me. And I appreciated it sometimes but now I don’t need it now. I just want him to be happy for me. For us, me and Jake.” 
“He will. Maybe he just needs to see Jake supporting you—not that he isn’t already—for that to start to happen.” 
“He better get over it by the time I have this baby or I swear,” you muttered, moving to unlock your front door. You turned to Penny with less annoyance in your features. “You know, I really want to make Bradley and Emma the baby’s godparents. And the baby’s guardians if something were to happen to the both of us and—” 
“—Don’t talk like that,” Penny interrupted you, grabbing your shoulders. 
“Penny,” you sighed as the door shut behind her, “I’m not living in some delusion where I don’t think that bad things can happen. And I want it all written down and signed and everything before I give birth or just in case Jake gets dragged away.” Placing a hand on your bump, you looked down. “I want to be prepared.” 
“Hey, today is a happy occasion. You can focus on that stuff at another time. Right now, just enjoy the fact that everyone is healthy and that you’re moving forward in your relationship with Jake, okay?” You nodded slowly and Penny pulled you in for a tight motherly hug. “And that’s why I got you a gift.” 
“You didn’t have to get me anything, Penny.” 
“I know, but I saw it and just thought of you,” Penny replied, pulling away and reaching into the bag that she brought. 
“And you definitely didn’t need to wrap it,” you mused, taking the box from her hand. 
Gently tearing at the wrapping paper, you glanced up when the door opened and Jake walked in, carrying your nightstand and dragging a suitcase behind him. You shot him a smile as he glanced curiously down at the gift in your hands. 
“What’s that?” 
“Just a small gift,” Penny insisted, smiling kindly. 
You tore away the rest of the wrapping paper and pulled out a rectangular plaque. You were a bit confused when you noted the three raised squares, but when you read the painted letters above them, it all clicked.
The message of ‘Daddy’ + ‘Mommy’ = ‘Baby’ was so simple, yet so emotionally overwhelming.  
“You’re supposed to put your handprints here,” Penny explained, pointing at the squares. “Jake can put his handprint here and then you can put yours there and then when your baby comes, you can put their handprint there. They recommended red and white for your hands if it’s a girl, so that her handprint is pink. Or white and a darker blue if it’s a boy, so that his handprint would be a baby blue. And you can paint the baby’s name below the square too, right there.” 
“I love it,” you croaked out, emotions quickly bursting to the surface. “Thank you, Penny. I love it, I love it so much.” 
You pulled Penny back in for a tight hug, tears starting to stream down your cheeks. Jake looked on, concerned, but Penny gave him a reassuring smile and mouthed that it was alright. And when Jake continued to look concerned, Penny whispered ‘hormones’ to him. Jake nodded slowly and gently took the plaque from your hands. 
“I don’t even know why I’m crying,” you breathed out, wiping them away hastily. “It just hit me all of a sudden.” 
“It’s been a long day. You’re making big steps. It’s a lot to take in all at once.” 
“Yeah,” you breathed out, trying to get a reign on your emotions again. Turning back to Jake, who was still staring at you with a measure of concern. “Where do you think we should put it up, once it’s complete?” 
“Somewhere everyone can see it,” Jake suggested, causing you to smile and nod in agreement. 
~~~~~
Since most of your stuff was already at Jake’s apartment, it didn’t take too much longer to fully make it your shared space. And you already made space in the living room for baby stuff. It was still early, you knew, but the alternative was researching about what horrible things you could find out at your twenty-week appointment, so you kept on decorating. 
But today was the day, so you supposed that you couldn’t push it off anymore. 
Waiting a bit anxiously in your car, you let out a breath when you spotted Jake’s truck pull into the lot. You grabbed your purse and slipped out of your car, walking over to where Jake parked. He got out of his truck, dressed in his day uniform, and quickly moved to your side. Pulling you in for a gentle hug, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. 
“Are you alright?” he asked you, causing you to nod against his chest. “Everything’s going to be fine. Whatever we find out, it’s going to be fine, okay?” 
Jake locked up his truck before the two of you headed inside the office. You checked in and sat down, filling out some paperwork while Jake rested his arm behind your back. And when your name was called, the two of you silently walked back to the exam room. Laying back on the exam table, you stared at the ceiling as Jake rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb. 
A knock at the door made you sit up and move to the edge of the examination table. Your obstetrician walked inside the room with a kind smile. It started off as any regular doctor’s appointment would. You went over your symptoms, your pains, your bloodwork, and everything else before moving onto the ultrasound. 
You immediately reached for Jake as the wand touched your belly and he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. She moved it around, typing away at her computer, taking a few images and measurements, before turning to you with a reassuring smile. 
“Your baby’s growing normally and as they should. Everything is measuring normal. They’re a little smaller than average, but nothing to be concerned about. They’re still a perfectly healthy and normal size.” She typed something else before turning back to you and Jake. “Do you still want to wait to know the baby’s sex?” 
“Yes, please,” you answered quickly.
“Alright, well, I’m just going to turn the screen briefly,” your obstetrician replied, hiding the information from you and Jake. 
“You can tell?” you asked quietly.
“Yes, but all the files are marked to keep that information completely private. Unless you change your mind, of course.” 
You nodded and shared a look with Jake, who pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. Your obstetrician typed away again before moving the screen back to your view. And as she continued to tell you that everything was normal and healthy, you sunk in and started to relax and enjoy the moment. 
“Your baby seems to be a bit stubborn,” your obstetrician noted, trying to move the wand around your belly again to take some more measurements. “They start to cooperate and then seem to decide not to about three seconds later.”
“That’s not shocking,” you mused, watching the movement of your child on the screen. “Stubbornness is probably genetic for them.” 
After a few more pictures, your belly was wiped off and you sat up once again. Your obstetrician smiled kindly as she sat down on her stool in front of you. Jake sat beside you, more relaxed than when he walked in, but still alert, as your obstetrician turned to you.
“Alright, there’s just a few more screening questions and then we’re all set.” 
“Of course,” you agreed, nodding slowly.
“Mr. Seresin,” your obstetrician stated, causing Jake to turn to her. “Did you want to go and grab the ultrasound photos? A tech can bring you back there. And you can ask them any questions of your own about the process.” 
Jake hesitated for a moment but agreed and got up from his seat. You squeezed his hand in goodbye before he exited the room with one of the techs. Your obstetrician waited until he was gone before turning to you.
“At the twenty week appointment, we usually perform a screening of your mental health.” After you nodded, she began. “Have you ever had a history of mental illness? Anxiety? Depression? Eating disorders? Anything like that?”
“Yes,” you answered softly. “Depression and anxiety.” 
“When?” she asked, poised to type down the information.
“My mother passed away when I was twelve. And after that, I was diagnosed with depression and put in talk therapy for a time. But I stopped that when I was eighteen. And they put me on anti-anxiety medication when I was sixteen.” 
“Are you still on that medication?”
“No, I stopped it about a year afterwards. I was just going through a lot at the time and talk therapy wasn’t working completely. It was just to get me through that time and then I didn’t need it anymore.” 
“Have you had any flare ups since then?” 
“A few times,” you answered honestly. 
“You didn’t go back to talk therapy or medication or anything?”
“No, I just . . . waited for it to get better, I suppose. Probably wasn't the best decision, but I survived.” 
“Can I ask why you didn’t return to therapy or medication?” 
“Honestly, the only reason I went to therapy or went on medication when I was a teenager was because I had people in my family push me in that direction. But when I was an adult, I just . . . I wanted to just handle it quietly.” 
“Well, please document if you feel any depression or anxiety during your pregnancy and your postpartum period. It’s an overwhelming time for anyone and there’s no shame in asking for help of any kind.” Your obstetrician paused before asking softly, “Do you trust your partner to help you if you feel depressed or anxious?” 
“Yeah,” you answered honestly, nodding along. 
“And are you two living together?”
“Yes, we are.” 
“And you feel safe in that living situation? Do you feel safe and confident about bringing your baby into that environment?” 
“Yes, completely.” 
“Alright, well, please just document if you feel anxious or depressed.” She stood up and grabbed a pamphlet and handed it to you. “You can always call our office or there’s a helpline that you can call at any time. And there’s no shame in any of it.” 
“Thank you,” you replied, thumbing through the pamphlet. 
~~~~~
That night, you and Jake laid in bed, looking at the photos from your ultrasound together. You were curled up on his chest, resting most of your weight on him as Jake wrapped his arm around your waist, cupping your continuously growing bump with his hand. 
“Were you a small baby?” you asked Jake softly, staring at the ultrasound picture of your baby. 
“What?” he questioned, turning to you with some confusion.
“Were you a small baby when you were born?” you repeated for him. “She said that the baby was smaller than average.” 
“I never asked,” Jake replied, a bit elusively. 
“I was normal weight, according to my mom,” you stated, still staring at the photo. “Bradley was a large baby with a big fat head, but I was normal weight and size. Mav said that after I was born, my mom told my dad that she wished that I was born first. It would have been an easier delivery, she told him.” 
“You think that they’ll stay smaller?” 
“I hope so,” you mused with a smile. “I’d prefer a six pound baby to a ten pound baby, thank you very much.” You turned to Jake with a soft look in your eye, resting your head on his shoulder. “Your mom never complained to you about how big your head was or how you were overactive in her belly or anything like that?” 
“No,” Jake replied shortly. 
Your smile slipped a bit and you turned back to the ultrasound photo. Jake rubbed his hand slowly up and down your bump, soothing you in one way but making another part of you wander from his side. 
“Can I take this one?” Jake asked, causing you to turn back to him.
“What?”
“Can I take this one with me?” Jake asked you again, pointing at one photo from the roll. “I was thinking about putting a photo from the ultrasound in my cockpit. If that’s alright with you.” 
“Yeah, of course,” you agreed, nodding to him and offering him a smile. “I think that’s sweet.” 
Jake nodded in return and pressed a kiss to your forehead. The two of you turned in for the night shortly afterwards. Rolling onto your side, you rested your head on your hand, staring out at the window. Jake gave your bump one last loving squeeze before moving away to fall asleep. And although you were exhausted and needed sleep, your mind kept you awake.
Staring at the window again, you paused when you felt that little flutter again. You smiled to yourself and glanced down at your bump.
“Right as I’m trying to go to sleep? Again?” you teased quietly. 
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hongism · 4 months
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SWEET JUICE - s.mingi (18+)
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➼ genre; fantasy, smut ➼ pairing; mingi x fem!reader ➼ au; strangers to lovers, magic au, witches/warlocks au ➼ warnings; explicit smut ➼ rating; m/18+ ➼ wc; 10.7k
the new apothecary in your small village is harboring a dark secret, you're certain of it, if only because he bears a starkly familiar crest on his shop sign - one that denotes the presence of magic.
part of the ...and it's snowing collab.
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➼ smut warnings; sex toys, unprotected sex, comeshots, begging, fingering, multiple orgasms, size kink, hand kink, mention of belly bulging, dacryphilia
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Normally, you aren’t one to be so deeply entrenched in the petty gossip going around town, especially when newcomers are not exactly scarce in these parts. This one in particular — the young man who moved here by himself and immediately set up an apothecary shop in the heart of the village — has been on the lips of almost everyone you’ve bumped into for the past week. Ever since the Summer’s End Festival, it seems all your neighbors can think to talk about is this mysterious lone wolf. Unfortunately for you, that means your interest has been piqued both out of nosiness and out of a potential opportunity.
“You said he’s nice?”
“Yeah! I mean, I didn’t meet him personally. I was busy running the stall while Yunho was doing all the socializing, but Gerda came over and she said he’s a rather nice and charming young man.” 
You appraise the man across the counter with a far less enthused grin. It doesn’t deter Seonghwa from his egregious nods of encouragement, however. So, you continue to pack away the little bundles of herbs that you’ve been preparing all morning into the man’s satchel.
“She says that about everyone under the age of fifty. I think it’s her duty as an old woman to say that. What did Yunho say about him?” 
“Hm, what did Yunho say about him…” Seonghwa brings a neatly manicured nail to his chin as he mulls over your question. You snap the buckle of his bag into its proper place now that you’ve given him all you need to and set your hands down on the counter. “He was fairly charmed too, I believe. I mean, in terms of the guy’s personality. You know his gaze goes in one single direction for all other aspects of things.” He flattens his palm against his cheek and doesn’t even bother to hide the smugness that creeps over his expression.
“Don’t get cocky now,” you cut in before Seonghwa can redirect the conversation towards himself. 
“Is it being cocky if I’m just repeating what he says all the time though? Oh my Seonghwa, you’re so pretty, the only man I could ever look at, I never grow weary of seeing your darling face. It’s truly romance at its finest.”
“Back to the new guy, Hwa.”
“Hmph. You’re more interested in him than you were in me when I first moved here!”
“You didn’t run a shop when you first got here. Otherwise, I would’ve been just as eager, promise.” Seonghwa narrows his eyes at you, lips drawing into what must be an attempt at a frown but it’s so half-hearted and soft around the edges that you can’t be sure. “I’m trying to establish a financially beneficial supply line with this guy. Thus, I need to know what he’s like so that I know how much bargaining I ought to prepare for before going to speak with him.”
“He’s nice, not much of a talker from what I could tell watching him from a distance, and he mostly stuck near the bonfire. Though it was still damp from the rain earlier that day, and autumn was already sending in her cooler breezes. Anyone who hasn’t acclimated to our lovely finicky weather acts like that when they first arrive here. Spoke to everyone who approached him. Talks with his hands a lot. Very—” Seonghwa makes a few vague gestures consisting of him just waving his hands in the air a bit “—big. Not quite taller than Yunho, but broader and like… meatier, I suppose. I wonder if I should give Yunho bigger meal portions actually, he might need it. Really, how does he stay so skinny even doing all the heavy lifting around the house? Do you have any herbs good for muscle growth?”
“Alright, I’ve had enough of you, that’s it.” Seonghwa’s protest comes immediately. “No, because last time you did this, you started asking me about concoctions to make his semen taste better, and that is not a conversation we’re going to be repeating!” He grabs his satchel off the counter as you hop up from your stool, though he still tries to appear very upset over the matter while pulling it over his head.
“Well, tell me when you’re planning on going over there at least. I can give you a meal before you go home since it’s a bit of a trek to get back here.”
“I’ll go tomorrow. There’s still some inventory left over from the summer that I need to sort out. And I need to prepare some decor for the Autumn Festival sooner rather than later. Ugh, I got so behind on my work it’s infuriating.” You’ve been slacking a little more than you usually do this past week on account of being bedridden for five days straight. You thought you were going to avoid getting sick at the end of summer for once, but your body had other plans for you and decided to push it into the start of the fall season instead. That’s the only reason you need this information about the newcomer from Seonghwa so desperately: otherwise, you would have been at that very festival and been able to witness the man for yourself.
“Oh, speaking of, everyone missed you last week! And told me to send you well wishes, which are obviously not needed anymore, but the sentiment is the same nonetheless, no?”
You send Seonghwa off with a few extra herbs pressed into his hands and wishes for safe travels. It ought to only take him fifteen minutes to walk back to town, but he came by rather late and the sun is already setting so you don’t want him to get caught alone in the dark on his way. He is kind enough to allow your nagging, only pinching your cheek when you tell him once more to quit asking about recipes and herbs to use on Yunho’s dick. 
Once you’re content seeing him reach the end of your garden path, you flick your wrist in the direction of your crops. The drizzle that suddenly starts falling from the sky is light enough to not be much of a hindrance to Seonghwa, though you’ll be certain to bring down some heavier rainfall after he disappears over the edge of the hill. Though your closest friend in the village, you still haven’t had the heart to tell him what exactly brought you to this remote place or what you were running from when you came. He only knows that you came here nearly eight years ago on your own and with nothing to your name, and by the time he and Yunho came along, you were already three years into building your business of selling herbs year-round. 
In truth, your witchcraft is not illegal by the nature of it being magick. Rather, you yourself are the problem being a witch in name instead of the formally accepted term warlock. Should anyone with any sort of agenda against you discover that you are a defector using your magick when you are no longer a practicing warlock, then you would likely lose everything you have here in this place. It took you two years just to find a town secure and remote enough for you to feel comfortable living in, and eight more to reach this point of stability. You don’t consider Seonghwa to be someone driven by monetary promise or swayed by others’ opinions, but there is just enough doubt that’s crept into your heart over the years to keep you silent.
“How depressing,” you mutter, turning back to your cottage and heading inside. You make the rain fall just a little harder to go along with your sudden decline in mood.
Perhaps, you think, there is some goddess out there who is keen on causing you inordinate levels of distress. Because although today was supposed to be nothing more than a calm and friendly meeting in the hopes of establishing a business partnership, you cannot push yourself to even approach the door to the new apothecary. The name of the shop is insignificant on its own — Mortar and Cauldron — and you wouldn’t think twice about getting up from this cursed bench you now find yourself on if that was all there was to it. Yet for some godforsaken reason, this man has deigned to put a symbol behind the name, one that mimics one of the crests belonging to the House of Ballads (the very one you defected from a decade ago). Some deity must surely be playing a sick prank on you.
There are a few routes you could take in this situation. You could pretend you never came and forget the idea of creating a supply line, missing out on some revenue sure but it’s not like you wouldn’t be able to make up for it in other areas. You could go in and confront the newcomer, demanding to know who he is and what he’s doing here on the off chance that he’s truly some bumbling idiot who has no clue what symbols he’s drawn into his signs. He could very well be a defector himself, you suppose, although it would be suicide to use one of the House’s official crests as one. Or you could simply play the part of the fool yourself, act none the wiser, and pretend to be the normal citizen you are. Even if this man were truly from the House, he would not recognize your face because you were never formally entered into the place. You had been merely part of a small church sect on the outskirts of the capital, far from the House of Ballads and all its operations. The name you held while there has already been burned to ash and nothingness, likely stricken from all their records as well the moment you disappeared. If they wanted you dead — well, they would have had you killed long ago. So, you seem to have your best course of action.
“I know my decor isn’t the most appealing, but I don’t think it warrants such a foul expression.” The voice resonates so close to your ear that you truly feel the vibration in your teeth, but moreso, it startles you out of your skin, and you all but launch yourself off the bench with an embarrassing yelp. Just behind the bench where you were, there stands a man you don’t recognize. Tall, with sharp features and equally piercing dark eyes, and dressed in black from head to toe complete with a scarf draped over his head to mimic the hood of a cloak. It doesn’t fully shroud his borderline psychedelic hair — an unnatural yellow shade that blends into a fiery orange-red and makes his head look more like a torch than anything else. “Hello. Sorry for surprising you like that, it wasn’t my intention to make a first impression in such a way.”
Ah. If not for your racing heart, you would have put two and two together far sooner, because obviously, this would be the mystery owner of the apothecary, considering how you recognize everyone in town.
“Would you like to come in and look around? I was simply across the street to get some bread.” He tilts his head back in the direction of none other than Seonghwa’s shop. One glance at the storefront gives you enough of a clue as to whose fault it is that you’re having this unsavory first encounter because said man is pressed up against the window and staring through it directly at you. You have to fight the urge to scowl at him until after your newcomer steps out of your line of sight. Seonghwa tucks a stray piece of hair behind his ear and sends you a far-too-cheery thumbs-up. You turn away with a less subtle middle finger. 
Despite the muggy weather and cooler temperatures, the inside of the apothecary is warm. It almost feels a bit humid thanks to the rain outside, but not unbearably so. And considering how long you were sitting out there getting rained on, you welcome the heat quite a bit. 
“You wouldn’t happen to be the friend Seonghwa mentioned, would you?” He catches you with the question as you’re undoing the knot holding your cloak around your shoulders. “I don’t recall seeing you at last week’s festival, though I didn’t have the chance to introduce myself to everyone then.”
“Oh, yes, that would be me. I wasn’t there because I was recovering from a nasty cold. Y/n.” You jut a hand out in his direction, pushing a smile to your lips as you look him in the eye, though thanks to his height, you feel as though you have to crane your neck just to do so. 
“Song Mingi. It’s a pleasure to meet you, y/n.” He doesn’t take your hand the way you expect; instead, he pinches the tips of your fingers and bends at the waist, lips grazing your knuckles so softly that you almost don’t feel the contact at all. What’s more startling is how hot his touch is, especially considering how he was just out in the cold. You catch a glimpse of his hand as he’s pulling away, but he’s simply wearing gloves. Knowing Seonghwa, he probably kept the man hostage with conversation for a long time before sending him out to speak with you, and your friend always keeps the house warm because of the ovens, so that’s likely where all the excess heat is coming from. Your staring lingers too long, and Mingi clears his throat quietly, bringing you out of your thoughts.
“Likewise,” you spit out, placing your cloak on the coat rack by the door.
“Were you looking for something in particular, or did you just want to see what sorts of things I have?” Mingi wraps around the back of the shop’s counter, and you take it as an invitation to approach. The glass cabinet serving as the surface is filled with a variety of things both familiar and not. Potions, vials, bundles of powders, and even some gemstones that carry a glow at their centers. The presence of magick here is undeniably strong, and it is not yours alone. There must be dozens of magickal objects here, though the ordinary person wouldn’t sense a thing. You don’t let your gaze linger on any of them for long before pulling focus back up to the man’s face.
“Well, I intended to come introduce myself first since we didn’t have a chance to meet at the festival. But beyond that, I wanted to let you know I grow all sorts of herbs and ingredients in my garden. I supply many of the local shops and stalls, especially during the winter seasons. The ground is particularly fruitful thanks to all the rain we get here.”
“Oh? Yes, I noticed rather quickly that there’s near-constant rainy weather here.” As though on cue, a bout of thunder rumbles in the distance.
“You truly chose a summer lover’s nightmare moving here,” you laugh. “Charybid is always in rainy season.”
Mingi hums and grins a little, looking to the window before saying, “I’m quite alright with it really. The heat of my homeland is far more unbearable in my opinion. You can tell how little I went outside there just based on how pale I am.” He flashes the back of his hand that’s still enveloped by a glove like he wants to prove his point, only to realize his little blunder and fall into a bout of awkward laughter instead. “But you said you’re a supplier? Do you have a local shop as well or…?”
“Local, though not here in the heart of town. If you follow the west road up over the hill, you’ll see a string of cottages. Mine is the one with the big front garden! Oh, and there’s a sign as well, of course.”
“That would be immensely helpful especially since I don’t have much space here to grow my own things. It’s a bit difficult to outsource supplies in this area too, isn’t it?” Mingi glances down at the open notebook sitting on his counter and skims the contents. “Would it be alright if I came by at the end of next week? That way I can finish unpacking and taking stock of everything I have.”
“Yes, that’d work just fine. You can come by any time you need, though I always advise against coming too close to nightfall because walking in the rain at night is an easy way to get sick.” You offer a smile, perhaps a little too pleased with how smoothly your business proposal went, but your enthusiasm seems to be received well given how brightly Mingi smiles in return. The air has begun to get more stifling, and you can feel sweat clinging to the back of your neck. It’s unpleasant now, a kind of warmth you’re not used to experiencing all the time because you don’t keep your home so toasty, but it reminds you of evenings shared with Seonghwa that always end with you wanting to escape out into the rain just for some respite. “I won’t take up more of your time, though. I promised to go see Seonghwa myself once I was finished here. I bid you well.”
“Thank you, and have safe travels home yourself. I look forward to doing business with you, Miss y/n.”
You leave your cottage in the wee hours of the morning, intending to water your crops before the sun rises, but those plans are dashed the moment you spot the man waiting outside your fence. You’ve seen him several times since your first meeting, though not here and solely in town. He hasn’t come this far yet despite his insistence that he would come over two weeks ago. Autumn is in full swing now, four weeks since the start of the season and five since the new apothecary came to town. You had not quite lost hope that he would be true to his word, but you must admit that you are caught off-guard seeing him at this hour and at your gate.
“When I said not to come at nightfall, I didn’t mean that you needed to come at the break of dawn!”
“I wanted to come before opening hours,” Mingi replies in a far clearer voice than your own. You’re still wiping the sleep from your eyes after all, and it seems he has been up for some time considering how he doesn’t appear tired in the slightest. The lantern at the end of your walkway is lit — strange because you thought you had remembered to blow it out the night before — and the glow combined with the first few rays of sunshine over the horizon is enough to illuminate the space between you and the man. “I was also out on a morning walk, so I figured it would be smart to find out how to get here before making a fool of myself. Beyond making plans to do so several times over and not once making good on those plans.”
You did gather much from your first impression of the man. Seonghwa’s word proved correct: Mingi is quite friendly, although a tad clueless but his kindness makes up for that, and you heard as much from your fellow townsfolk after you left his apothecary a month ago. After all, newcomers will be the talk of the town for weeks after their arrival, so you got to be privy to much talk about his character just from spending five minutes milling about the streets. He’s cordial each time you happen across each other in the village on top of that, full of never-ending apologies about his delay in coming to see you (to the point where you have to demand he stop apologizing three times before he takes the hint).
“Considering how I didn’t even make it to the front door, I’m assuming I did not wake you?” he continues when you reach the edge of the fence. You shake your head, undoing the latching and pulling the gate over for him to step through. 
“No, you simply caught me coming out to check on the crops before the rain starts.” You didn’t sense any rain coming today, but a little trip down to the pond can easily be arranged once Mingi departs. “This is only the front garden. I can show you the back as well, if you’d like, I have far more plants there.”
“You take care of this all by yourself?” he inquires, voice edging on awestruck, and your chest swells with pride.
“Yep! It is my livelihood, after all. But I am very enamored with the work too, so that helps me as well. These plants need more sun, and thanks to the location of this cottage, they receive it at least eight hours a day. Same goes for the plots on the left side of the house, but the ones on the right are not as sensitive to the sunshine. I keep the least temperamental crops in the back, along with some gourds that shops have a hard time finding at this time of year. My more cold-sensitive plants are in planters indoors, I have that small little greenhouse attachment on the side of the house as well as fungi and the like in the basement.”
“It seems you truly have a bit of everything then?”
“I try to at least. Whenever traveling merchants come for market days, I make a point to collect whatever seeds I can. I also like picking up gardener’s pamphlets! There are always good tips for how to make certain plants thrive, and occasionally they’ll mention ones I’ve not heard of so I know to be on the lookout for those things. If there’s ever something you’re in need of that I don’t have, I’d be happy to collect some samples for you from some merchants and we can discuss planting them too.” When you glance up at Mingi again, his jaw is hanging slightly open, eyes still bearing into you with that same wonder and disbelief. “Oh, sorry, I’m being a terrible host. Did you want to come inside for some tea or coffee? It’s still quite early.”
“That’d be great. Do you happen to have a catalog of all your crops as well?”
“Of course, of course.” You motion for him to follow you up to the house just as a few drops of rain start hitting your skin. Maybe you won’t need to go down to the pond after all. “It seems you came at the perfect time. Do you have some sort of potion that lets you predict the weather?”
“If only,” he laughs, ducking his head a bit to avoid the doorframe. He shrugs his cloak off upon getting inside, and once again you’re regaled by the sight of him dressed in all black. Though, today he’s forgone gloves and simply stuck to a long-sleeved shirt that extends past his hands. 
“You’re welcome to look around as I get the water on and all!”
“I’d be happy to do that for you.”
“Please, you’re a guest, that’d hardly be fair of me.”
“But I did accost you before dawn, so I’d like to think of it as a fair bargain.”
You purse your lips. “Okay, I’ll relent and allow you to do the water, but I’ll take care of everything else.” He drapes his cloak over the back of one of your chairs, very careful and meticulous about the way in which he lays it down, but you only watch him long enough to see him reach the sink. Turning your back to him, you busy yourself with finding mugs and prepping the coffee Seonghwa gave to you a few weeks back. You should’ve thought ahead and asked him for more since you were just over there, but it slipped your mind completely. Perhaps he needs some more lavender and rosemary, you could pack some and use that as an excuse to go back to see him.
When you turn around next, Mingi is already sitting at the table in the seat where he set his cloak down, and you make a small noise of surprise.
“Did you get the stove figured out already? I swear it takes me four or five tries to get it to come on right every time.”
“Hm? It came right on when I turned the knob. Is it not supposed to do that?”
You let out a huff of air while shrugging and set the mugs down on the table. “It never does that for me but that very well may be user error.” The sharp whistle of steam interrupts your thoughts. “Ah, and it’s heating up quickly too? Those remedies of yours are becoming more and more appealing by the second. You might be the town’s new miracle worker at this rate.” 
In truth, it’s making your skin itch a little. There was some odd presence of magick back in Mingi’s shop, and even now you feel something sharp prodding at your own magickal energy in your own home. It’s not a threat, not one that you can concretely act on yet at least, but it’s enough to make you wary. To let a witch into your safe haven is a dangerous and risky game to play, especially if it’s where the source of your power is. Thankfully, you were not so foolish upon moving here to do something as juvenile as that — yours is safely kept away in that pond down the opposite side of the hill and tucked into a small grove in the surrounding forest. 
“Oh, let me grab that catalog for you real quick!” You bolt up from your chair at the sudden realization, and Mingi seems to accept it as simply that. You grab the book from your shelf, also snatching up the charm you keep near it and slipping it around your wrist while you’re out of sight still. It won’t be enough to fully shroud your energy, but if Mingi is indeed poking and prodding at your aura in search of something, it ought to at least throw him off enough to sate his curiosities. You usually only use such an item when strangers come to town for those market days you mentioned to Mingi before, and it certainly is a first for you to have to use it in your home. 
He’s not budged an inch by the time you return, which is nice to see because he could either have started snooping around in places he shouldn’t or bolted without a trace. You set the book down before him, still wearing a faint smile on your lips.
“I just updated it at the start of the week too, so you have the freshest copy.”
“Wonderful, I’m starting to understand the name on your gate post more and more.”
“Ah, that.” Wonderland was simply a silly little name you came up with on a whim because that’s what this place is to you, but it stuck and everyone in town loved it so much that you could not escape the urgings to keep it as a name even if you are not a shop owner in the way that people like Seonghwa and Mingi both are. “It’s nothing terribly special,” you opt to say instead. The kettle starts whistling more egregiously, saving you from having to explain the name any further. You stand and go to grab the handle of the pot, only to scald your palm so badly that you nearly fall over backward. Mingi scrambles to get up, chair clattering against the ground as he rushes in your direction.
“Shit, I’m so sorry, I—”
“You’re sorry?” you blurt through gritted teeth, clinging to your hand and trying to will the pain away to no avail. “What are you sorry for?”
“I-I should’ve — I should’ve gotten that, I mean, my hands are…” he trails off, and you glance down at the now exposed hands that he’s put between you. From the tips of his fingers down to the first knuckle on every single digit, Mingi’s skin and nails both are the color of charcoal, like they’ve been permanently stained that way. Were you anybody else, you would not know what it means. 
“I’m fine,” you say. He’s a warlock after all, it seems. Of course he is. You have been teetering on the confirmation for weeks at this point, and it was silly of you to ignore the obvious so many times over. His uncomfortably warm touch and the stifling heat inside his shop were both dead giveaways. You did not forget to extinguish your lantern last night, nor did the stove simply come on by way of Mingi being deft at using the knobs. He lit the lantern himself, lit the stove himself as well though because he was unaware of how your finicky stove works, he made the flame too big and too hot, thus leading to the quick boil and unfortunate accident of you burning your hand. The symbol on his door sign should have been enough of a clue.
“Please, at least let me make you something to treat the burn. It’s what I’m good at after all, and it’s the barest of minimums I could do.”
If you kick him out now, then it will surely be obvious that you know something about his identity. Only daft idiots or people with something to hide would turn down the help of a healer such as himself. In the past decade, you have lost all semblance of good judgment because no amount of mental gymnastics can get you to refuse his help right now. You’re dooming yourself if he already knows what you are, but if he’s got even the slightest hint and you turn him away, then you would confirm it for him. You have to take the risk.
“Okay, I would really appreciate it,” you whisper, easing yourself down into your chair once more. Mingi’s shoulders visibly relax. “All these plants and I’m afraid I’ve barely got enough knowledge to make tea on a good day with them. Everything you need ought to be on the shelves behind the counter. Those are all freshly picked too.” When he turns his back to you, you let your meek expression drop and glare at the welt that’s already formed across your palm. Mingi’s magick does not appear to be volatile, meaning that he must have had some sort of formal training in his life. It’s common for fire warlocks to bear the same charcoal-looking scars that he has, mostly from overexertion of their kind of magick. You produce more sweat than is natural for a normal human being thanks to your affinities too. 
Would the House truly send someone here for you after so long? And to go through the effort of having them set up a shop in the heart of town? If they wanted someone to watch you, then it would have been easier and smarter to have someone take one of the cottages closer to you. Besides, Mingi has not been taking every opportunity to come find you or learn about you. Nor does he wear any ring to indicate his affiliation with the House. A sanctioned mage would surely make use of such benefits. Could he be a defector like you? Or one that never made it into the House’s grasp? 
He returns to the table with a mortar and pestle filled with some sort of salve that he’s already beaten down into a mush.
“Does it hurt badly?”
“Quite a bit,” you answer truthfully, only wincing a little when he turns your palm to the ceiling. It feels as though his fingers alone could sear your skin.
“I made extra for you to use over the next several days as well. All you need to do is store it somewhere cool and apply a little to the burn twice a day until the pain stops.” The mixture is so blissfully cold on your skin that you could cry, and even with Mingi’s warm touch massaging it into the burn, it feels like a heavenly relief. “If the pain doesn’t stop by the time you run out of salve, then please come visit me. I can make more and give you something to keep it from scarring.”
“Understood.”
“And y/n…” He squeezes your hand ever so slightly, and your breath catches in your throat. “You do not have to hide what you are around me.” His gaze finds yours. “You are a witch after all, are you not?” A witch. The word feels like a slap in the face.
“Are you associated with the House? Did they send you? What is it you want from me?”
“The House? Absolutely not. I left their good graces many years ago. I wouldn’t give them even an ounce of my time anyway.”
“So what? You’re a witch as well?”
“Yes, I suppose I am though I don’t make a habit of calling myself that. Simply an apothecary, much like how you are simply a farmer. Of sorts.” Mingi fidgets in his seat and looks closer at you. “I am genuinely not here to cause you harm or disrupt your life. I imagine we came here for the very same reasons in fact. I simply want to live by my own terms, not anyone else’s.”
“Get out,” you whisper. Perhaps there are hundreds of better ways to handle this, but you have never had to do such a thing in all your time here, and you cannot be faulted for acting out of panic and fear now. Your voice comes out louder now, “Get out of my home then! Get out and don’t come back d-don’t dare tell anyone.”
“The energy is permeating the entire house.” Mingi keeps his tone quiet as he continues to speak through your distress. “Your garden too, I felt it immediately. The rain — it’s in there as well. Sure, it’s always rainy season here but how much of it is because of you?”
“You know what the other name for my kind is, right?”
“You’re a water witch.” 
You retract your hand from his with a scoff.
“The House tends to call us Scyllans. Sweet temptresses of the deep, killers of foolish men.”
Mingi somehow has it in him to smile.
“Then I ought to be safe, for I am neither foolish nor a mere man.” He stands without saying another word, collecting his cloak off the back of his chair and slinging it around his shoulders. You can’t help but to stare at him, wary and on edge with every movement he makes even when he reaches the door. “My words hold true, y/n. I hope you think them over at least. And your secret is truly safe with me.”
You avoid going into town for so long that Seonghwa seeks you out five days after you go into self-imposed seclusion. It’s easy to keep him off your back at least, and from what you can tell, Mingi has not sought him out to expose your dirty secrets as of yet. The logical part of you understands that you ought to avoid angering the man because he does hold quite a bit of power over you right now. Fear keeps you captive instead, however. 
Two weeks and a day after that fateful encounter you had with Mingi, you dare to leave the comfort of your home. Not to go into the village — that is a step you are not prepared to face — but rather to visit your precious grove in the forest. You should have gone last week as it’s always been your habit to go once a month to rejuvenate your magick; however, you were so on edge that you couldn’t get beyond your back fence and promptly turned right back around. Tonight, you’re determined.
The skies are clear, not a single cloud marring her starry expanses, and the moon hangs high near the center of the sky. Even better yet, it’s a full moon. Ideal conditions for you to bathe in the pond and restore some much-needed energy. You set out forty minutes from midnight even though your trek will not take that long. You need only be there for the highest peak of the moon, so giving yourself this little bit of leeway should allow you all the time required to reach your destination. Despite yourself, you do glance over your shoulder several times on your way out of the house and garden. When you’re content with your loneliness, you set off down the hill.
It’s not as though you decided to dismiss Mingi’s words altogether once he left. You have put much thought and consideration into them, in fact, especially after Seonghwa came to see you and nothing had changed between the two of you. It’s no guarantee that Mingi didn’t tell anyone, but it’s something. The matter of him being a witch like you, well, that has been a contentious debate in your head. A true warlock calling themselves a witch is considered heresy to many, so you have to believe that Mingi is being truthful with you. You know enough about his magick to know for certain he is either one or the other. But at the end of the day, there is no way for him to prove as much. All he has is his word to back him up, and all you can do is either accept it as truth or deny it. 
Long ago, you had settled on the knowledge that you would likely be a rather lonely creature for the rest of your days. Finding Charybid and its people was a welcome blessing, but not a permanent one, and the friends you’ve made (especially Seonghwa and Yunho) cannot understand what it is you are or relate to you on any matter concerning witchcraft. You’ve long since accepted that loneliness as a part of you even if there are pieces of your heart craving warmth and understanding from another like you. 
If it were possible, could Mingi be that sort of person in your life? Does he crave the same thing? Is that why he confronted you to begin with?
You reach the grove with a heavier heart than anticipated. Moonlight creeps in through the canopy of branches overhead, glistening off the half-circle of rocks around milky green waters. The moon has already been charging the pond for hours, and you feel the pulse of magick resonating deep in you from the bottom of it. 
Stripping down to nothing, you drop your clothes into a pile near the rocks with your satchel and toe at the water. It’s frigid as expected, thanks to the encroaching winter that is coming closer and closer still. You sink into it fully and submerge yourself in the charged waters. Several meters down at the bottom lies your precious black pearl, glowing a deep purple shade to show exactly how much magick she’s stored since you last came. You let the waters hold you for some time until the dull thrum you feel around you turns into a hum that makes your skin feel like it’s full of electricity. 
It’s only then that you decide to emerge once more, breaking the surface of the water and letting air replace the magick in your lungs. 
Yet, you find that you are not alone.
Bent so far over the pond that he looks one slip away from tumbling down into it, none other than Mingi sits crouched at the edge. It’s far too late to pretend as though you haven’t made note of each other. Depending on which direction Mingi came from, he may not have even seen your belongings behind the rocks. You sink lower in the water until it comes up to cover your lips. 
“My apologies. I did not know you were here.” Just his gaze is enough to make your body warm. You tilt your chin up.
“Is that so?”
“I came because of the magickal energy, yes. Not because I knew you would be here.” He’s not far from you. The moon shines her pretty rays down around him, and you blame her for the insatiable tug in your gut that’s making you want to pull him into the waters with you. “I have been thinking about you though,” he admits under his breath. You imagine the words are not meant for your ears, but he doesn’t seem to realize he’s spoken them out loud. It takes little movement on your part to swim closer to him, and you only stop when he is perched directly above you.
“Do I look the part of a temptress now?” you inquire, hand breaking through the surface of the water to caress his cheek. 
“Incredibly so,” he murmurs. “I see why foolish men fall. Perhaps I am no better.”
“You know nothing about me.” You trace your fingers down to his chin. 
“I know enough.”
You shush him with a laugh and a finger placed directly over his lips. “The sun gives you her power during the day, but on nights like these, the moon offers me a fair exchange. Her power for my sexual energy. That is where a water witch’s magick comes from, and it’s what has earned us all those myths and urban legends about eating men. Now that you know that of me, should I trust you in return?”
“I am what I say I am. I am a fire witch. I defected from the House of Ballads five years ago. To answer your question, though, if…” His gaze has become lidded, focus drawing down to your lips with each word he tries to speak. You feel just as overwhelmed and foggy yourself, the excess magick seeping into you from all angles as the moon inches ever closer to her peak. “…you deem it wise.”
“I think some part of me might.”
“Did you consider what I said to you last time?”
“But of course. It wasn’t so long ago that I’ve forgotten already.” A sigh escapes you as you look up to where the moon can just barely be seen through the trees. “I’d like to give you a chance, if only because of morbid curiosity and the fact that I have made it a decade without finding another like myself.”
You inch up and graze Mingi’s lips with your own. His fingertips tickle the surface of the water, and the effect is nearly instant. Warmth surrounds you and draws a gasp out of you that has you curling away from Mingi’s face. He leans back.
“I cannot restrain myself well enough tonight. Not in the presence of such potent magick.” You are equal parts pleasantly surprised and grossly disappointed by his willpower. With a smile, you push away from the edge of the pond and head further into the water. Mingi almost makes the mistake of following you, teetering at the grassy bank.
“You are welcome to visit again. So long as I am not nude or compromised.”
“I-I—” His cheeks are stained a deep red by now.
“I do not intend to put on a show for you tonight, Mingi, but I am in desperate need of the moon’s energy. If that is all, then…?” Were the circumstances any different, you would consider your wording to be crude in that you are essentially asking him to leave so that you can fuck yourself with the crystal you brought along with you in your bag. 
He clears his throat and sits completely back on his heels, gaze wandering across your face. Licking over his lips, his eyes linger on the water droplets running from your hairline to your jaw. 
“I will come to you when the first snow falls,” he says. “So that you may have time to contemplate things further. My decision is already made, and I'm sure you're aware of it. Please… please let me know then what your choice is.” You want to retort that he doesn’t have the best track record thus far, but instead leave well enough and wave him away with a grin. A bout of laughter leaves your lips as soon as he passes through the clearing and out of sight.
“Are you testing me?” you whisper to the moon, receiving nothing but her monotonous glow in response. You wade over to the rocks where you left your belongings and quickly rifle through your pack in search of the rose quartz you brought along. It’s cold to the touch, unpleasant in comparison to the warm body that you just had with you and within your grasp. While the shape isn't perfect, it gets the job done in the absence of the real deal, and it serves its purpose just fine. Not like you have any other options as it is.
Part of you entertains the idea of having Mingi still here — from a practical standpoint, consummating the ritual with another magick user would be far more effective than using a crystal charged by the moon. But from a pleasure standpoint…
You dip your fingers between your legs, letting your body fall back to rest your head on the edge of the pond as you seek your core between your folds. The magick at your fingertips pulses through you and sends a jolt into your system just from the slightest brush. A soft mewl falls from your lips. You feel Mingi’s magick still permeating all throughout the water, clinging to your skin, and on your lips, you taste fire from that minute little kiss exchanged in a fit of passion.
No matter how hard you try, you cannot get your fingers deep enough inside your cunt. Instead, your thoughts are plagued by the visual of Mingi’s hands, his long fingers, the searing heat that emanates from them, and the all-consuming desire to know what it would feel like to have them inside you.
You cannot even bring yourself to waste time right now; slipping your fingers free, you plunge the toy in your other hand into yourself and sink it all the way in until the pressure in your gut is eased the slightest bit. It's blissfully cold against your walls; the coolness eases the burn that seems to be wedged beneath your skin and brings some clarity back to your mind. It does not, however, chase every thought of Mingi from your brain. In the haze of your vision, you can hallucinate him before you still, imagine him in the spot where he was not long ago watching you with those fiery intense eyes and urging you on. A louder cry of pleasure tumbles out of you as you're forced to twist and brace yourself on a rock to keep increasing the pace of the toy's thrusts inside you.
It ought to fill you with some degree of shame, you think, because who lusts so strongly after a stranger who poses something of a threat to your well-being and livelihood? But when your mind goes back to the idea of his large hands gripping your waist and hips as he splits you open on his cock, you can't be bothered in the slightest about the speed at which you're becoming invested in this man — all that matters is the speed at which you're thrusting the crystal dildo in and out of your pussy as an orgasm creeps up on you. You have to bury your face in the crook of your arm to have some semblance of sanity to cling to. And when you unravel soon after, it’s his name on your lips.
The first snow of the season is late.
You have been trying to avoid thinking about it solely on account of the superstition that mulling it over will only delay it further, but those attempts are futile. Because when you tell yourself to not think about it, you only end up thinking about it more, then you devolve into a sick cycle of reasoning with yourself and the moon and any deity out there who will give you the time of day. 
While you could set your pride aside for the sake of what it is you’re waiting on exactly, that is simply not in your nature. Additionally, you want to see whether Mingi will uphold his end of the bargain. He promised to come at the first snow. So you will wait for that day. 
Your gardens are thriving thanks to the lack of snow and the amplified support of your fully-charged magick, which is the only positive you can find in this situation while you essentially sit on your hands and wait. The downside is, however, that the temperatures are still steadily declining, and you always struggle in the winter to keep your home warm enough. Your specialty may be in water magick, but that does not mean you have any control or power over the temperature of said water, and everything around you tends to skew a bit cooler as it is. The thought of how cold you are and your house is and everything in between only pushes your thoughts more towards the lack of warmth and a potential source of it that will not come unless the fucking snow does first.
If you have to put up with seeing Mingi’s smiling face across the street while you’re pestering Seonghwa one more time then you may truly snap and lose all semblance of self-respect.
You’re knelt in a bed of rosemary when the first flakes of snow start to hit your skin. At first, you think it to be just rain but then a flurry touches one of the purple blossoms on the herb. The shout you let out is a terrifying mixture of joy and exasperation because at long last, your agonizing wait can finally come to a close. The way you scramble to pull yourself out of the dirt and rush indoors ought to be more embarrassing. It takes you all of five minutes to change out of your grimy gardening clothes and into something cozier and cleaner, though all you do is park yourself at the kitchen table with a mug of hot tea and stare out the window waiting for any sign of movement on the hill. The snow is coming down harder already, a billowing cloud of white that cloaks the dirt and grass on the ground. It doesn’t even occur to you to think that Mingi might not come at all, that he might have forgotten or worse — simply not chosen to come at all — because your patience has worn so thin over the past weeks that you feel relief just seeing the snow.
And luckily for you, Mingi is far more timely and true to his word than he was before. You neglected to keep track of the time, though you haven’t finished your tea yet by the time his lanky figure comes over the crest of the hill. You know it to be him instantly because his fiery hair is visible through the white all around him. 
You’re at the door before you can think twice, flinging it open and making your way down the path to the gate as though you aren’t in the biggest rush of your life. Behind him, there’s a trail of footsteps where the snow has melted under his feet, and the closer he gets, the better you can see how not even a single snowflake sticks to him in any way. Every flake that touches even the outside of his cloak simply melts upon contact, leaving him pristine in the sea of white falling around you.
“Did you wait long?” he asks upon reaching your gate. Somehow he manages to maintain a lilting tone that makes your brain itch. You want to kiss him so silly that all that smugness dissipates like the snow on his skin. “Y/n.” The breathy exhale of your name is all it takes for you to grab him by the collar and yank him down to your level. The warmth is so blessedly welcome. “Have you made your decision?” 
You slot your lips against his, licking at the seam of his lips without waiting for further invitation. He scrambles with the latch on the gate, though you’re of no help at all with how you’re trying to pull him over it, but once that pesky barrier is pushed open just a little bit, he slides through the gap and seals his body against yours. Even though the cold doesn’t seem to be affecting him much, his breathing still comes out in pants, like he sprinted the whole way here from town without rest. He clasps his hands around the back of your neck, thumbs caressing the underside of your jaw, and each kiss he plants on your lips is more searing than the last. It takes all you have to not trip over backward on your feet with him guiding you back towards the door of your home. The two of you don’t even make it through the door before he’s pushing you up against the doorframe and slotting a knee between your thighs. 
“Please, y/n, let me hear it from these pretty lips,” he begs. Your whole body is alight with something — either magick or lust or something in between those things that you can’t distinguish at present. The heat radiating off his body makes your head spin, and it’s such an intoxicating sensation that you reach your hands beneath the fabric of his cloak to be closer to skin.
“I trust you, I need you, I want you to have me,” you murmur back. Mingi pushes his lower lip out with the tip of his tongue. His gaze carries the same heat you’ve grown used to seeing all the time when you look at his eyes. Now, the weight of it feels heavier. Your breath hitches in your throat as he wraps an arm around your back, and his fingers dig into your side briefly. You’re pulled away from the doorframe and into the house only for him to slam the door shut and lock the snow out. What you aren’t expecting is to be flattened to the surface face first mere seconds later.
“I want to have you right here and now,” Mingi growls behind you. Every brush of his hands over your body leaves goosebumps in their wake along with the heat of his magick seeping into your skin. He takes apart your bodice carefully, pulling each string with a startling amount of care compared to his desperate rush to have you. A sort of fever takes hold of you, and with each piece of clothing he removes from your being, the more the fire in your belly roars. Glancing down, you see your clothes fallen into a heap on the floor, along with his cloak, then his coat, his shirt — each piece of fabric goes to join the pile until you feel bare skin against yours. The bliss of the contact is so immense that you let out a pitiful moan.
“Mingi.”
“Raise your arms over your head for me, y/n.” 
“Mingi,” you utter again, following the instruction without a breath of hesitation. He takes both of your wrists between just one of his hands and pins them to the flat surface of the door. Your chest trembles under your breaths. 
“I will not be rough with you unless you allow it. How I take you is up to you… whether it be me taking you apart gently or fucking you hot and raw right here and now.” You can’t take the sensation of his breathing down your neck without squirming. No matter how hard you squeeze your thighs together, there’s no relief for the pulsing need for pressure there. The moment Mingi catches onto your attempts, he wedges his knee between your legs and leaves you to rock back on his muscled thigh for some sort of escape.
“Please.” It’s as though there’s cotton in your mouth keeping you from fully forming any kind of sentence because although your thoughts are running at a mile per minute, you cannot seem to get more than one word out at a time. Mingi nudges you forward into the door once again. He replaces the pressure of his thigh with his unoccupied hand, cupping your cunt and dragging his middle finger along the slit of your folds.
“You’re coming undone already, my little witch.” Mingi suddenly flicks his finger forward over your clit, and your knees buckle. Your reaction delights him so much that he repeats the action two more times, and your body truly becomes putty in his hands. He keeps you up between the hand holding your wrists to the door and the one cupped around your sex, but you aren’t sure your muscles could keep you up on their own without the help. Especially not when Mingi gets more daring and pulls a second finger into the mix to tease the ring of your entrance with small, methodical circles.
“Put them in me, put your fingers in!” you cry out only for Mingi to roll over your clit once again. His cock is twitching against your ass, firm and big, and part of you wants to forget everything else solely to have him in your mouth and down your throat. 
“Is that how good girls ask for things?” He pinches your clit between his fingers until you’re whimpering out an apology and smearing drool across the door. “Ask again. Nicely this time, sweetheart.”
“Please f-fuck me with your fingers, please open me up for you, I w-want to feel you so badly.” Nonsensical babbling is enough for him, blessedly, because you’re not confident that anything more coherent than that could make its way out of you right now. He rolls the pads of his fingers up against your clit again before going any lower. His laugh is borderline sadistic when you curl your fingers into the wood, nails clawing for some sort of grip that will help you ground yourself. “Wanna come so—!”
“That’s it, come for me, lovely. Then I’ll fuck you nice and loose on my fingers while you’re coming.” Mingi retracts his fingers right when your gut clenches, and as your walls squeeze tight around nothing, he slips two digits into your cunt. Your lips part in a silent scream, moans caught in the back of your throat. Your vision goes white behind your eyelids though it lasts so much longer than what you’re used to getting from your own hand and toys. Perhaps it’s because Mingi doesn’t let up on you even in the throes of your orgasm, or thanks to your magickal energies intertwining in the most raw and intimate way imaginable. “Let me open you up some more first, then I’ll give you what you want.”
You blink your eyes open and look at Mingi out your peripherals, mouth wide open and cheek still pressed harshly into the door even though you’re the one keeping it there. 
“Do you want it too?” you ask out of the blue. Your voice is tight and strained. His fingers curl inside you.
“So badly,” comes his quick reply, “that it’s taking everything in me not to put my dick in you right now. But I don’t want to hurt you.” As though to emphasize his feelings, Mingi rolls his hips forward, and his cock rubs hard against your ass. “Doesn’t even look like it’s gonna fit in you, fuck.”
“Mingi, I need you in me now, like right this instant now, not in five minutes now.” The first orgasm has your vision hazy and legs wobbly, but that’s far from a concern to you at the moment. Your urgency pushes the man behind you to have the same sort of franticness, hurriedly slipping his fingers free of your cunt and readjusting his hold so that he can grip the base of his dick. You hold perfectly still for him as he lines himself up with your waiting hole that’s already sopping with arousal. Your pussy takes him in like it’s greedy for it, each inch sliding in and spreading you wider to accommodate to his size. One thing’s for certain: Mingi has a stupidly big dick, so big that it makes you wonder if you’d be able to feel it through your stomach if you put a hand there. 
Whatever shreds of patience he had left in him turn to ash the second he’s fully buried balls-deep in you. He doesn’t wait even a second before he pulls out about halfway, and the only stutter in his rhythm comes from him trying to find it. You’re suddenly rather glad that he’s keeping your hands up for you because the drive of his cock inside your pussy would bring you to your knees otherwise. The sounds of pleasure fill your ears — his low baritone moans tangled alongside your more throaty ones that crack here and there, the slap of his hips hitting your ass, and the thumping of the door as he fucks you so hard against it that it trembles. 
“Y-You’re so deep, I feel you in my stomach,” you choke out between moans. It devolves into a sob as Mingi shifts his angle upwards a bit and hits a new spot deep inside you that has you seeing stars. 
“Yeah? Your pussy is clinging to me nice and tight, lovely, I think you like it a little too much.” He has enough composure to still speak without crying, meanwhile, tears are starting to pool at the corners of your eyes as the overstimulation of your senses and nerves reaches unimaginable heights. “Bet your pretty little toy isn’t even half as big as me.”
Mingi thrusts so hard into you that his grip on your wrists falters, and one of your hands falls free. He doesn’t bother correcting it, nor do you try to keep it up any longer, instead rushing to get your fingers around your clit again. You’re so hyperfocused on chasing the high of another orgasm that you don’t warn him it’s about to hit you this time. He knows well enough when your body seizes for a moment before releasing every bit of tension in your muscles. Your walls flex around his cock, working him in time with the waves of your euphoria, until he can’t take it anymore and pulls free of your hole. He rests his length atop the cleft of your ass and thrusts a few more times there, then comes his release. Hot ropes of come shoot out from his cock, painting your naked back into a messy canvas of come and sweat.
Despite the sudden quiet filling the house, your hearing is hypervigilant and clings to every slight noise that comes from your partner, from his fight to get air into his lungs to the hand he now rubs over his spent cock. 
“You…” Your throat is too dry and you end up coughing instead of getting a sentence out. Mingi’s fingers trace small, unknown patterns into your hip. “You’re welcome to stay through winter. That’s my answer.”
“Through winter?” Mingi hums. He slips his hand around your waist and flattens his large palm over your abdomen. “What about spring?”
“Then too.”
“And summer?” He’s teasing you again. Somehow he still has the energy to do that.
“And summer and autumn then winter again. But maybe by the spring after that, I’ll be sick of you!”
“You won’t be,” he says through a laugh, lips brushing against the side of your head. You’re going to need better retorts if he plans on sticking around that long.
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fanfics-posts · 6 months
Text
One Night Stands Pt.2 | Mapi León x Reader
warnings: literally just sex and a tiny bit of fluff. Minors dni. word count: 2377 part two of this, requested by everyone.
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Mapi's intoxicatingly dark eyes ignited a desire within you, causing you to internally beg that the few steps between you were both were covered quickly.
You found yourself nibbling on your bottom lip, a mischievous smile playing on your face, as you watched her eyes hungrily roam over every inch of your naked body.
“You nervous?” You teased at her reluctance to make a move.
“No.” She spoke sternly.
“No?”
You let your teeth become visible through your playful smile, your pupils moving upwards as your tongue grazed every visible white pearl in your mouth.
“No. You’re desperate.”
That response threw you. Perhaps if she hadn’t been spot-on about your desperation, you wouldn’t have felt so personally attacked, but the throbbing between your legs and the quickening of your breathing made it impossible to convince yourself that you were anything but desperate. 
“Speechless?” She chuckled smugly, finally taking a step in your direction.
You lay silent, nodding gently in an attempt to draw her closer.
“Is that a yes? You look even prettier when you do that you know.”
Another step.
You rolled your eyes at the compliment, knowing that somewhere in there she was insulting your accent.
“Maybe I should fuck the noise out of you.” She husked and suddenly that throbbing was worsening.
Still, you stayed silent. It seemed to be the only thing drawing her closer to you. She took another step, finally getting close enough for you to see what lay between her legs. It was bigger than you’d expected; given she was so petite, you hadn't expected her to own a toy of this size.
“Oh, now I see what’s important to you.” She nodded.
Another step.
“I don’t remember us agreeing that you were fucking me?” You finally broke your silence.
“I decided that the minute I saw you at the bar, you decided that the minute you got in a taxi to my house.” She shrugged.
You finally felt the bed dip beneath her weight as she climbed onto it, her knees helping her move between your legs, which had already spread in anticipation for her.
“You’re already soaking my sheets.”
The way she laughed as she said that would’ve made many feel a little insecure, but for you, it simply had you dripping even more than you already had been. It wasn’t like you didn’t know it anyway; your thighs were somewhere between wet and sticky, the cool air from her air conditioning system battling to dry them before another surge of wetness would gather.
Mapi sensually leaned over you, her hands firmly placed on either side of your head, and you half expected her to fuck you silly right about now. Instead, she brought her face over yours and placed a surprisingly delicate kiss on your lips, pulling away just a fraction to speak.
“What’s the safe word?” She broke character to speak softly.
“Medal.” You smiled.
“And you want to do this?”
“Yes.”
“And you feel safe?”
That question made your heart do something funny. It was unfathomable to you that someone could be so sexual yet so soft. For a brief second, you wondered if she’d ever been in love. She seemed too familiar with affection, and you wondered if all of this was an act to convince herself and everyone else that she didn’t want anything serious. The same way you had. 
“We don’t have to.”
You realised you had zoned out, bizarrely thinking about her relationship history.
“I do. Sorry, my mind went to a weird place.” You chuckled.
“Three.” She smiled.
“Three?”
“I’m guessing you were wondering how many people I’ve done this with. It’s just three. I don’t normally feel comfortable enough to do anything involving more than body parts but don’t tell anyone that.” She blushed.
“Do you want to know my number?”
“No. Maybe after.” She shook her head.
Again, your heart did something at the idea that she was too afraid to hear your number before she put in her best effort. If she had, perhaps she would’ve felt a little less pressured, but you decided to respect her wishes.
She placed her legs on either side of your waist, lowering herself onto your stomach in a blatant attempt to let you feel just how wet she was. The moan that left your lips was unstoppable, eyes closing and mouth falling open as she gently slid herself back and forth.
“Give me your hand.” She demanded.
You obliged, letting her guide your right hand towards your centre. She pushed your fingers through your folds with no real direction before bringing your hand back to the strap.
“Stroke it. I want to watch you.” She instructed.
Your fist closed around the strap, each slow stroke almost convincing you that she could feel it. Again, you used more of your own juices to lube it up, with the pool between your legs appearing to be never-ending.
“That’s it, baby. That’s it.”
You weren’t sure where to look. The view of her toned hips thrusting back and forth, the sight of her hardened nipples, and the picture of her fucking your hand with the toy were all so appealing.
You could see her fight to keep her eyes open as her movements became more erratic; you could hear the change in her breathing; and you could feel the twitches her clit was making on the muscles of your stomach. 
“You look so fucking good on top of me.” You managed to breathe out.
“Yes.” She whispered softly.
“Has someone got thing for praise?” You teased.
She nodded, her thrusting becoming even less controlled as she teetered on the edge.
“You’re doing so good, baby.”
Faster.
“You’re making me so wet.”
Harder.
“I can’t wait to watch you come all over my stomach. You look so perfect.”
By now, she was practically bouncing on your stomach as your hand continued pumping at the strap, your eyes fixated on her boobs.
“Come on, baby, let go for me.”
Her thighs squeezed into your sides, and moans and cuss words fell from her mouth as she tumbled over the edge. You brought your hands to her waist, holding her steady as the aftereffects swooped through her quivering frame.
“You good?” You asked, thumbs delicately stroking her sides.
You did something to her—something no one else did. You made her feel like she could chase her own pleasure rather than obsessing over becoming the best partner her newest one-night stand had ever been with. She thought about telling you that, but the toxic devil on her shoulder banished her from doing so, leaving her to nod and move between your legs. 
“Now you’ve really soaked my sheets.” She smirked.
As she spoke, she traced feathery touches through your folds, gliding through them like someone walking on water. You whimpered, unsure if the pleasure was coming from the feeling or the view of sheer adoration this woman seemed to have for the most intimate part of you.
“You’re really turned on, I thought I might need to use my fingers first but you’re practically opening for me.”
You knew you were and it shocked you. Normally, your partners had to really work you open, and sometimes your body simply refused. You knew tonight wouldn’t be that way; your insides were silently begging to be filled by her.
Taking the strap in her hand, she traced the same pattern across your core as she had done with her fingers, slowly bringing it towards your entrance and gently working it against your hole.
“Does it feel okay?”
“Yeah, more.”
She pushed a little further, each inch brushing over every nerve ending inside you. 
“You’re so tight. I can’t wait to fuck you.”
You knew she was using words to keep you lubricated, but you also knew she didn’t need to. The sight of her between your legs, holding your thighs open, and the dark hickeys that were littered across her neck on either side of her tattoo were more than enough.
“Fuck.” She sighed in arousal as the base of the toy met with your core.
She started to move in small, shallow thrusts, working your walls to mould to the shape of her. The minimalistic sound of your slick being pushed and pulled in and out of you was the only sound in the room, as every groan you wanted to release was caught in the back of your throat.
“You feel so good wrapped around me.”
That time, no effort from your throat could’ve trapped the sound that left you. Finally crossing the barrier from pain to pleasure made you unable to stay quiet. Your legs jerked to close, and every movement from her seemed so much more intense than anything you’d experienced.
“Keep your legs spread for me. That’s it. Keep them open, I wanna watch you take my dick.”
She gave you three long but deep strokes that were somehow meant to warn you of her intention to speed up.
And then she did.
Mercilessly, she began to plough into you at a rate not known to mankind before. You weren’t quite sure how she was able to maintain the positioning that allowed your gspot to be stroked with each thrust while also keeping her pace. 
The expletives that were rolling off your tongue weren’t even coherent, falling under the radar as the sound of skin-on-skin overtook all else.
Each time you neared your peak, she would slow down just a fraction, letting you know that her plan was to edge you, and nothing you could say would change that. 
You tried, though. In vain.
“Please, I’ll go again. Just let me…”
“Shut up.” She snapped, left hand slapping down onto your thigh.
Each time she was stern with you, you couldn’t help but notice how her eyes scanned your face for any sign that you weren’t comfortable with it. An endearing contrast that only added to the attraction you had for this woman.
Of course, the more she made herself attractive to you, the more your body ached for added pleasure. Her hand rested on the inside of your thigh, and her pinky finger sat just millimetres from your clit.
You couldn’t help but stare at it, like you hoped you would develop some kind of magical power to move her hand to the bundle of nerves that was throbbing between your legs.
Observant as always, Mapi smirked as she followed your line of sight. Her hand placement hadn’t been an accident, nor had the tiny brushes she had been making just not close enough.
“Go on. Play with yourself for me. Show me how you like it.”
You didn’t need to be told twice, letting your hand sink between your legs and groaning with just one touch. Your neck bent backwards, your head nestling into the pillows in a way that was sure to give you some kind of stiffness the following day.
“That’s it, show me how you’ll touch yourself when you think about tonight.”
You’d never been so aggressive with yourself, usually preferring to gradually build up to something. Tonight, though, your fingers were swiping from left to right across your clit, pulling and pushing at the sensitive bud and then slapping hard against it. You were uncontrollably horny, and she was thrusting into you at a pace you thought impossible.
“You’re falling apart. Look at you, you’re a fucking mess.” She grunted with every slam.
“Shut up, fuck me.”
You moved your free hand to her hip, willing her to go even faster and relishing in how sweaty she was because of her workout that solely existed to please you.
“You want me so bad, don’t you? Listen to you.” She panted.
That was it. That heavy feeling behind your pubic bone seemed to burst—an explosion of the best kind. Your vision blurred, ears began to ring and if you hadn’t known it was coming, you might’ve actually panicked a bit at the way your body seemed to be burning from the inside out. 
“You’re getting so…”
She was cut off as the pressure pushed her out of you, with endless droplets of water landing across her stomach. She watched on, mesmerised by the sheer amount of it.
“Fuck. Fuck!”
Lost for any more creative words, Mapi simply swore. Everything looked so inviting, from the way your core glistened to the way your fingers were still doing a frantic job of dancing across you. She thought about it for a single second before pushing her fingers inside you and coaxing out another spell of liquid.
You slowed down your hand movements in line with hers, finally coming close enough to recognise the state your lower half was in. Slowly, the reality of how messy her bed must’ve been hit you, and you couldn’t help but rest your forearms on your forehead to shield yourself from her gaze.
And then, she switched again.
She slipped the strap off, throwing it onto the floor and pulling you across the bed away from the wet patch. You followed her lead, still keeping your face covered as the heat in your body seemed to travel to your cheeks.
“Hey.” She whispered softly.
“Mhm?” You shrieked.
“I loved that. All of it. Every single thing you did.” She reassured you.
She placed her fingers around your wrists, tugging gingerly at them until you finally let her see you.
“There she is.”
Her smile was real; that was the first thing you noticed. She held eye contact with you for a few seconds, breaking it only to place a kiss on your lips and tell you how perfect you were.
It was a tender moment of safety for both of you. She had been worried that she would underwhelm you, and you had worried that she would be completely grossed out by the huge orgasm she’d subjected you to.
Surprisingly for both of you, her arms wrapped around your shoulders and your head rested on her chest.
It would last for seventeen minutes before a quick trip to the bathroom to wash the strap. That would be followed by one hour of Mapi receiving the same pleasure that you had, except she would make sure you were still trapped beneath her for the show.
What followed that? You still weren’t sure when you left the next morning. All you knew was that no one had ever fucked you like she had, and you weren’t sure anyone else would compare. 
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jessejaredstories · 4 months
Text
Lesson for a Lesson
Bryan considered himself to be a cut above the rest. He had always been the kind of guy to turn the other cheek when it comes to handling conflict with others. Even if they were the biggest asshole Bryan has ever met, he’d never stoop down to yelling vulgarities or other petty insults just to get back at them. He’d keep his cool attitude, stay respectful, and minimize future interactions; even if the person didn’t deserve as much as a single look in their general direction. Bryan held the title of always being the bigger person with pride, regardless of how haughty it made him look to others.
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However, Bryan’s high and mighty attitude would soon meet its biggest enemy yet when the new neighbor Mr. Martin moved in down the hall. Bryan didn’t think much of Mr. Martin at all when he first met him. Mr. Martin was a single man living on his own. He was pushing 40 and worked as a PE teacher/football coach for the local high school. All in all, Mr. Martin was a pretty ordinary guy. 
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As far as Bryan was concerned, Martin would just be another face he’d occasionally run into in their shared apartment building but ultimately ignored otherwise. And that was more or less how their relationship continued for the next month or so. They’d share pleasantries, but nothing else beyond that. They were friendly neighbors, at least until the first time they bumped heads. 
Their apartment building had an open access rooftop with a fully furnished lounge. Residents were free to make use of the lounge as they pleased. One day, Bryan decided to take his boyfriend up to the lounge so they could stargaze together out on the rooftop. While the two lovebirds were spending time together, Martin also happened to show up sometime later. He had brought his telescope to do some stargazing himself. Both parties kept to themselves for the most part. That is until Bryan and his boyfriend began to get intimate. Martin shot them a dirty look but then didn’t say anything at first. Only after a few minutes passed and the two boyfriends were still making out did Martin decide to speak up.
“Hey, I understand that you two are ‘in love’ or whatever, but can’t you go do that in a private room? This is a shared space after all, I don’t want to see that out here.”
Bryan didn’t appreciate the stern tone of voice Martin used with him. It made him feel small, like he was back in high school. He was just as much an adult as he was! But Bryan decided to bite his tongue. Martin had a fair point, it probably wasn’t very considerate of him to be full-on tongue kissing with his boyfriend out in public the way they were. So he apologized, took his boyfriend down to his place, and that was the end of that minor spat. 
But that incident turned out to be only the start of their problems. Soon after, Bryan decided to buy a new welcome sign for his front door. It was a pride welcome sign and had big rainbow letters on it. It only took a day until Martin was knocking on his front door, asking him to take it down. Naturally, Martin would never outright say he wanted it gone because of the rainbows, but Bryan wasn’t stupid. He knew how to connect the dots and read in-between the lines. Only a homophobe would be pushing so strongly for a pride sign to get taken, and Bryan would sooner drop dead than bend over for a bigot. He stood his ground, and Martin left with a scowl on his face. 
From that point on, Bryan and Martin were constantly at each other’s throats. Jab after jab and nonstop passive aggression. They continued having incidents and their animosity for each other only grew steadily over time. Bryan was getting fed up, but he never backed down nor did he ever blatantly disrespect Martin, even when he had no problem disrespecting him. It was an uphill battle, but Bryan saw a light at the end of the tunnel. His lease would be up for renewal soon. All he had to do was not renew his lease, move out, and he’d never have to see Mr. Martin ever again. It was simple! 
Or so Bryan thought. One morning, after Bryan’s boyfriend had spent the night over at his place, he received a very interesting text. One that would snap Bryan’s patience in half.
Babe! I ran into your bigoted neighbor in the elevator last night. I tried to ignore him, but he wouldn’t leave me alone. He kept harassing me and when I wouldn’t talk to him, he started calling me a worthless fag. I’m okay, he didn’t touch me, but I wanted to tell you what happened. I’m not sure I feel comfy enough to go back to your place anymore. : (
Bryan read over the text a couple of times. Once he made sure he read it right, Bryan decided enough was fucking enough. He then slammed his phone down on the nightstand and marched straight to his closet. He never wanted to be the kind of guy who got revenge, but Martin crossed a line after he went after his boyfriend. And if Bryan was going to get revenge, then he was going to come at him at 110%. He had to dig through his things but he eventually found what he was looking for- a body swapping potion. 
Bryan plucked the tiny vial out of his closet. He had saved it for when he really needed to use it, and getting payback on a bigot seemed like the perfect time to use it. Before he could use it, he had to prepare for what comes after the swap. He pulled out a chair and made a makeshift rope out of some leather belts he had laying around. Bryan then proceeded to drink the potion, but instead of swallowing it right away, he held the brew in his mouth. It tasted rancid, but he held out. Bryan used the belts to tie himself up to the chair, completely immobilizing himself so that Martin couldn’t do anything in his body. He used a real knot technique too, just for extra security. Once he was satisfied with his setup, Bryan swallowed the potion and blacked out.
The body swapping potion took effect immediately. Bryan’s consciousness left his body in the form of a long, glowing, snake-like mass of matter. It slithered out of his body through his nostrils and plopped onto the ground. It then began its long journey towards its intended target. Bryan felt weird leaving his lifeless body behind, especially while knowing that Martin would soon be inside of it, but he carried on with his mission. Their swap would only be temporary after all; once Bryan had his fun, they’d switch right back. 
Bryan’s soul made its way to the nearby high school where Martin worked. Luckily, nobody was able to see it slithering by. It slithered into the faculty bathroom where Mr. Martin was just about finishing up his midday shit. Bryan’s soul squeezed underneath the closed bathroom door with ease and slithered right up to Martin.
“Hm?” Martin noticed something glowing out of the corner of his eye. He lowered the magazine he was reading and screamed when he saw the giant, translucent snake creeping up on him. Martin leaped up into the air out of shock with his pants still around his ankles. Big mistake. 
Bryan’s soul quickly expanded until it was the size of an anaconda. It then used its massive size to wrap around Martin, constricting his mobility. Mr. Martin was hyperventilating. He couldn’t move! All he could was watch as the tip of the glowing snake tickled the head of his exposed cock.
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A cold shiver ran through Martin’s body with the soul snake’s cool touch. The soul snake then forcibly wiggled its way into Martin’s dick slit. The sensation of getting penetrated made his cock harden up to full mast. Bryan’s soul then slithered down the length of Martin’s girthy member. Martin threw his head back as his body got taken over. He purred a deep, sensual mmm! as it happened. He could feel the cold feeling that started at his groin spread out to the rest of his body as Bryan’s soul took over his body for itself. 
The body takeover started off slowly at first, but as Martin’s body got filled with Bryan’s being, the process began to rapidly speed up. Suddenly, the entire anaconda started rushing into Mr. Martin’s body through his cock. Martin was gasping as the waves of pain rolled over his body. Luckily for him, it only lasted another five seconds. With one slurp, his now engorged cock swallowed up the last few inches of Bryan’s soul.
“Nrrghhh… Fuck…” Martin moaned. Those moans were the last thing Martin said before his body hunched over to throw up his own soul snake. Martin’s soul snake came rushing out of his mouth. Once it was out, it slithered out the bathroom, likely on its way to take over Bryan’s limp body. It left behind a smirking Mr. Martin, only this time, it was Bryan who was in control.
“Whew! That was easy!” Bryan said with his new, baritone voice as he stood up. Bryan immediately noticed the difference in their bodies as his consciousness adjusted to its new heavier, hairier vessel. His nostrils were penetrated by the strong yet familiar musk of his own hairy pits. He took a sniff of his new sweaty body odor and let out a loud, satisfied ahh! Bryan could literally feel how every new inch of skin felt as he moved around in Martin’s body. He then stretched out his new body, while also getting a feel for the thick hair he had all over his body. Bryan always had a thing for furry men, though he was never able to grow much body hair himself. To be able to takeover a hairy body like Mr. Martin’s was just icing on the cake for him. 
Bryan took a look at his reflection in the mirror, winked at himself, then stepped out of the bathroom, ready for revenge. He had one hand on the doorknob while using his other hand to jerk off, making sure he was still nice and hard for what he was about to do. An evil grin formed on his face. It was go time.
Bryan stepped out of the faculty bathroom ass naked with his erect cock swinging around freely. He wore a proud smile on his face as he displayed his hairy body in full display. He then wrapped a hand around his cock and proceeded to jerk off ferociously. Bryan made sure to exaggerate the volume of his moans and groans to make sure any nearby faculty heard him. Surely enough, someone heard him, and they stepped in to see the glorious sight of revenge live.
“WHAT THE FUCK!? MR. MARTIN HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND!?” the man shouted. He drew the attention of other nearby adults, who all came in to see what was happening. All of their jaws dropped to the floor as ‘Mr. Martin’ laid down on the table, naked and grinning.
“What do you mean? It’s my lunch break, brah! I deserve to have a little stress relief before I go back to teaching those cocksuckers- I mean, wonderful students! Hey, do any of y’all happen to have sweaty socks on right now? I could reallyyyy use a hand, I wanna finish quickly and my pits aren’t enough to get me there.”
Bryan lifted his arm and took a deep, loud whiff of his dank pit smell. The sight of watching Bryan lick up the droplets of sweat forming on his pit hairs made some of the standby faculty gag. They began to disperse.
“Shut the door to the faculty floor! We can’t let anyone else find out about this!!”
“I-I’ll go call a therapist, he’s definitely gone insane…”
“What’s the matter with y’all? Pshhh y’all act like you’ve never seen a dick before! Don’t be afraid! Bask in the full glory of the male body!! Look at my beautiful, hairy body!”
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“Alright, Mr. Martin, let’s just take some deep breaths and get some clothes back on…”
“MAN FUCK Y’ALL!! Y’all some lame ass bitches! I don’t need y’all, I’ll just finish myself off!” Bryan lifted his leg high up in the air. His puckered up, hairy asshole was now on display for all to see.
“Here’s a cool biology fact for y’all! Did ya know you don’t need to go that deep to reach the male g-spot?” Bryan licked up his middle finger until it was soaked with spit. He then reached over to his ass, rubbing around his hole until his finger slipped in with ease. He let out an obscene moan as he fingered himself. “You really need about a knuckle’s length to get to the prostate, you just gotta- AWW FUCKK!! I found it!”
Bryan began jerking off and fingering himself at exaggerated speeds while howling and grunting like a monkey in heat. He accidentally farted while fingering himself, and the smell of his flatulence combined with his sweaty musk to create a particularly potent odor. He made sure to make a display of him sniffing up the strong smells while the audience covered their nose. He kept the act of intense masturbation up for another minute or so, really letting himself get into character, until finally climaxing. Bryan quickly pulled his finger out of his ass and used both hands to pump his cock. 
“Ohhhh fuckkkk that feels soooo gooood…!!” Bryan went cross-eyed as he slowly stroked his throbbing cock with the firm grip of his man paws. The pressure of trying to hold it in was building up, making for an extra strong orgasm that Bryan couldn’t help but give himself into. “Get ready y’all… Here comes Old Faithfullll!!”
Just as he advertised, an eruption of jizz came flooding out of Bryan. His whole body was twitching from orgasmic pleasure, but he managed to hold himself together just enough to point his cock around. He became a squirt gun as he shot load after load of warm, sticky cum all over the faculty lounge and himself. The whole place became covered in his seed, leaving him huffing for breath after such an intense climax. Any remaining faculty had evacuated once they saw what was about to happen, leaving Bryan alone in the lounge.
“Alright… Mission accomplished…” Bryan said with bated breath. “I just… I just gotta switch back…”
Bryan was satisfied. Not only did he completely destroy Mr. Martin’s reputation, but he’ll be coming back to his body naked and covered in jizz at his own workplace! Bryan was sure he’ll be absolutely humiliated, especially considering how many witnesses saw ‘Mr. Martin’ lose his shit in public. 
Bryan steadied his breathing in preparation to swap back to his own body. He had paid top dollar to get the most premium potion money could buy. The body swapping potion was special in that all he needed to do to switch back was simply think about! He focused his mind, thought about what he wanted to achieve, and willed himself back to his body! 
…But nothing happened.
Bryan opened his eyes to find himself still in the teacher’s lounge inside of Mr. Martin’s body. 
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He wasn’t sure what he did wrong. He tried again but to no avail. He tried swapping back with his mind again and again but no matter how many times he tried, nothing happened. Bryan was quickly growing nervous, especially as he heard police sirens coming nearby. He tried several more times but it was futile. Bryan was arrested for public indecency as Mr. Martin before he could swap back to his original body. Bryan was in deep shit and he knew it.
The next three days were absolutely miserable for Bryan. He had spent those days locked up and berated for what he did. He hated every second of it. All he wanted was to get back inside his own body and run back into the arms of his beloved. No matter Mr. Martin. No more misery. No more pain.
Bryan pleaded guilty on all charges and took a plea deal in order to avoid jail time. He paid a hefty price for his freedom; a total fine of $50,000, 100+ hours of community service, house arrest, court mandated therapy, and he had to register as a sex offender. But Bryan didn’t care, they weren’t tied to his real identity after all.
Once he was out, Bryan traveled back to his apartment as fast as he physically could. He made it back to his apartment in record time and used the secret key to get inside. He was praying to God that his body would still be sitting there tied up in the chair, just waiting for him to return. He opened the door and his heart immediately sank when he saw an empty chair and torn belts. Bryan dropped to his knees. His eyes began to tear up. He noticed there was a sheet of paper sitting on the chair. Bryan crawled over to it. It was a handwritten letter, and it read: 
Hey there! First off, I want to thank you for switching bodies with me. To tell you the truth, I’m not the real Mr. Martin. The original Martin is looong gone now after so many swaps. But me, I actually used to be just like you. I was gay and pissed off at Martin, and like you, I decided to body swap with him to teach him a lesson for his homophobia. But then I found myself in the same situation I’m sure you’re in right now. I couldn’t swap back to my original body. For some reason, Mr. Martin’s body won’t allow its owner to leave. Only someone else can initiate a swap with Mr. Martin. I’m really sorry man, but I can’t go back. I won’t go back! I’m stealing your body for myself. My mind has been trapped in that homophobic body for God knows how long, just swimming around in that vile hatred… I want to be my own person again. I’ll be praying for you, I hope someone swaps with you before Mr. Martin’s body corrupts your mind, but considering how quickly it took over mine, it’s not looking good. Again, I’m so sorry. Best of luck. PS - Don’t worry about your boyfriend, I’ll be sure to love him just as much as you did and more! He’s safe with me. Bryan. 
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Bryan was dumbfounded by the letter. He was even more dumbfounded by the pictures of himself. He had no memory of taking those pictures, which could mean that someone else took those photos with his body. Bryan swallowed the lump in his throat. The walls around him seemed to be closing in. He tried pulling himself together but was failing. Shriveling on the floor, Bryan began repeating a mantra to himself in an attempt to hold onto his identity.
“My name is Bryan, and I am a proud gay man… My name is Bryan, and I am a proud gay man… My name is Bryan, and I am a proud gay man… My name is Bryan… And I am a proud gay man…”
Bryan repeated that mantra out loud every single day from there on out. He said it as many times as he could before his throat got irritated from talking so much. He did everything he could to remember who he truly was. Everyday he studied gay history, watched only queer romances, did his favorite things, and even journaled his thoughts and feelings.
Days became weeks, and slowly but surely, Bryan was losing his grasp on his original identity. He gradually stopped following his routine. He forgot his identity mantra. He even began referring to himself as Mr. Martin. He had lost himself as his mind and soul merged with his new body. 
But while Bryan was gone, Mr. Martin was living the easy life. He was a single man living on his own. He was pushing 40 and worked as a busboy at a local restaurant. All in all, Mr. Martin was a pretty ordinary guy living an easygoing life.
The only real problem Mr. Martin had had to do about the new neighbors that just moved in across the hall from him. They were two young men sharing a single bedroom apartment. Mr. Martin never really cared to know his neighbors all that well, but he recently found out the new neighbors were actually a gay couple. He recently spotted them kissing in the hallway through his peep hole the other day. The sight of them kissing irked his soul, and he planned to ask them to not exhibit that kind of behavior out in public around the apartment building again. Surely, they won’t have a problem with it. Right?
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imyourbratzdoll · 4 months
Note
pls pls write Luke Danes smut with a petite reader. size difference and stomach bulge pls. also praising if you want to
hi, wow it feels like I haven't written anything in forever and I hope I brought your request to life!
summary - growing up small came with some disadvantages but not when it came to having luke in your life.
warning - smut, swearing, creampie, dirty talk, praising, stomach bulge.
18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by the user on my other stories who I think sadly deactivated.
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You were tiny compared to everyone else, you had been since high school where you would always be constantly teased. The one highlight though was having a somewhat protector, a boy older than you by the name of Luke Danes would always stand up for you and fight those who’d make you cry. The sad part was catching feelings for him and knowing he’d never return them. 
So, a few years later. All grown up (but still ridiculously small), you head towards the diner. The only way to start your day was with one of Luke’s coffees, you just didn’t know how different the day would end. The little bell went off, signalling that you had entered, causing Luke to look in your direction. His eyes brush over you before turning back to a customer, until his head whips around and he glares at your shirt. You give him a soft smile before practically skipping over to one of the free stools, pouting slightly as it feels as though you must climb it just to sit on it.
After Luke is done with the customer, he storms over and behind the counter before leaning over, his face nearly touching yours as he growls and glares. “What do you think you’re doing walking out in public wearing a shirt like that?!” 
You frown, not understanding what he’s talking about until you look down and realise the shirt you had thrown on. There you sit, wearing a small denim skirt and a tight pink shirt that reads ‘I bet she bangs like a fairy on acid.’ You look back up at Luke and pout, “I didn’t mean to… This was the only clean shirt I could find, a–and…” You huff, wondering why you felt the need to explain yourself to him, you were a grown woman but the way he towered over you caused all your brain cells to fly out the window. Your arms cross over your chest, “I don’t need to explain myself to you. You aren’t my father!” 
Luke rolls his eyes before walking around the counter and practically lifting you from your seat, his beefy tanned arms bulging slightly as he carries you past the curtain and up the stairs to his apartment. “No, I’m not your father, but I’m sure as hell not going to let you walk around dressed like a slut.” You gape at him, wondering why you could feel yourself clench around nothing, tingles set aflame on your puffy clit. He places you down gently after you both enter his place, before walking over to his closet and pulling out one of his flannel shirts. “You are going to put this on, and I don’t want to hear a peep from you about it, understood?” His glare causes your thighs to squeeze together, and you know he’s noticed it. 
You squeak as you back into the door, Luke slowly making his way over to you. Each step, each thud his footsteps make cause your pussy to clench, slick gathering between your thighs. He looks like a predator, and you are his prey. “Are you seriously getting turned on by this?” You let out a whimper, lashes batting up at him as he towers over you again. His hand grips your jaw gently, making sure all your attention is on him and unknowingly causing your knees to buckle. “I knew you were a little slut ever since I stood up for you. You couldn’t hide the way you felt.” He leans closer. “You want to know how I know?” 
You whine, nodding and looking up at him with hooded eyes. “Because I walked in on you during the game, you thought everyone was too busy watching, but I had taken a short break. Imagine my surprise when I hear your soft little whimpers, and an even bigger one. You kept calling out my name, while you gripped one of my shirts and humped your pretty little hand.” You gasp when you feel him pressed himself against you, your eyes widening when you imagine how you are possibly supposed to take him. You squeal when you are suddenly lifted from the ground, flung like a ragdoll onto the bed, too dazed to notice him crawling on top of you. 
“Are you going to be a good little girl for me?” His bulge rubs against you while his hand moves up to grip your chin. You blink, his words sound as though they are underwater because all you can focus on is the tingles running throughout your body and how pretty his eyes look. You feel yourself clench as he slaps your cheek softly, repeating himself causing you to nod. A dumb look accompanying your face. 
Everything moves so fast, or it could’ve happened slow… You didn’t know, everything felt good and fuzzy. One second you had clothes on and the next you were completely naked in front of your crush, your mind was exploding. Luke groans, gripping the base of his cock and rubbing the tip through your folds. “You’re so wet already, baby. You think you can take me?” You nod, need erupts throughout your body as your dream is finally coming true.
“P–please, Luke.” You whine, wiggling your hips as you try and press yourself closer to him. Your walls becoming slicker at the sheer size you feel against you. “I’ll be good!” Your eyes roll into the back of your head, back arching off the bed as Luke slowly pushes in. Groans fall from his lips as he thrusts through your tight hole, your walls gripping him and pulling him deeper. 
“Holy fuck…” His eyes rest upon your stomach, noticing how your stomach bulges from how deep he is. “You’re doing so good, baby. You’re such a good girl.” His hands grip your hips as he begins to thrust hard and fast, splitting you open and fucking you dumb. “My good girl. So good you’ll wobble back down to the diner with my cum dripping down your legs.” He growls, lying flat against you as his hips frantically move. 
“U–uhhh, mmm.” You try to speak but can’t. Your mind feels a thousand miles away and the only thing you can think about is how good Luke feels thrusting in and out of you. You can feel the veins on his cock throb with each movement, his thick tip pounding into your sweet spot. Your hands fly up and grip onto him, burying your face into his neck as you feel your orgasm approaching embarrassingly fast. 
“You going to cum, little baby?” His thick voice rumbles throughout your body, sending shivers directly to your core causing you to clench around him. “Fuck. Be a good girl and cum for me.” Your eyes disappear as he fucks into you, causing your orgasm to rip out of you, covering him. Luke groans, his head rolling back as his cock throbs and twitches, balls tightening before he releases deep inside of you, thick ropes of cum covering your tiny walls until he softens. He moves slowly, making sure not to harm you as he pulls out and receives a cloth that he uses to clean you with. “You, okay?”
You hum, eyes slipping closed as your body tingles. Luke smiles as he watches you before lying next to you. Screw the diner, Caesar can take care of it for now. 
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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sapchat · 5 months
Text
We Are Not Our Fathers, But I Am Yours
Azriel x Reader
Summary: Back by quite literal popular demand: It’s been a few months since you and Az have taken Hawthorne in, and now he has questions about what you guys are to him.
Warnings: I say bastard once. We talk about Azriel's lovely father and the rest of his family. oo I mention that Elain and Lucien had a weird relationship, but just saying "whatever they got going on"
Words: 2.8k
Part One
You're Reading Part Two!!(2)
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“How is it, being a mother?” Feyre asked while watching Hawthorne play with little Nyx. The six-year-old, whilst bigger than the one-and-a-half-year-old, still knew to be gentle enough to play.
“It’s… nice, I mean I know I’m not his actual mother. But it’s weird, in the last couple of months I feel like I’d do anything to protect him, I mean honestly, I’d probably sacrifice Az to protect him.” I say, giving a chuckle towards the end.
“I know, Rhys and I said the same thing with Nyx. I mean you remember how Rhys was while I was pregnant, but the minute that little boy got here. It was game over for us both.” Feyre said smiling at the little boys.
We sat drinking our tea a little more watching them play in Elain’s garden before she turned to me again.
“I know that you guys are unofficially planning on moving to Windhaven once he’s eight, so he can be trained. Me and Rhys want you guys in his mother’s house. I know you will be back and forth but instead of getting your guys’ own place, just use it.”
I look at Feyre tears in my eyes from what she and Rhys are offering, then grab her hand, “Thank you guys, I’ll be sure to tell Az when we get home.”
“How is the spymaster doing with this… adjustment?” The High Lady asked a small glint in her eye.
I’d taken to the adjustment quite quickly, as I had already been playing caregiver before we had decided. Azriel was adjusting a little slower. I couldn’t tell if it was due to the lack of parental figures in his younger years, or because of how quickly it went from me and him, to me him and a child.
“He’s,” a quick pause, “Adjusting. It’s been slow, and he’s more awkward than usual. Hawthorne pretty quickly accepted that I was essentially a mother to him. But with Az, I don’t know. Hawthorne had a father who protected him for five years, and then we showed up and told him he wouldn’t see him again. He still calls him Azriel, or Azzie, or a variation of that. And whilst he hasn’t called me his mother it’s like it’s on the tip of his tongue.” I tell her honestly.
I mean we never truly expected him to see us as his parents, but it’s still weird having a child call you by name. Nothing with aunt or uncle in front of it or anything either.
“I think it’ll be okay. Hawthorne knows you both love him, and you both care for him and protect him. You get that and Azriel gets that. He couldn’t have two better parents.” Feyre tells me reassuringly. It seemed like she was going to add something else but then Hawthrone ran over, Nyx stumbling after him.
“Can we have cake now Aunty Feyre?” Hawthorne asked looking from his spot at her knees batty his dark eyelashes.
The child really could pass for our child if it came down to it. The same Illyrian features, hazel eyes, dark almost black hair, and golden skin. There have been times when we walked down the street after collecting him from the Velaris school that people had stopped and awed at how cute of a family we were. How our son was so cute and a carbon copy of his father.
Taking the smiles, they receive as thanks; they don’t notice how tense we become. How I glance at my mate, and he just glances down, some distant look in his eye that I can’t describe.
“That’s not up to me,” Feyre says nodding her head in my direction. The little boy looked at me, eyes gleaming in hope.
“Come on little shadow, let’s see if Aunt Elain and the twins have lunch for us,” I say standing and straightening my pantsuit out. I took his hand and waited for Feyre to pick up the little prince and we went into the Townhouse.
Nuala, Cerridwen, and Elain greeted us, pouring some tea into glasses, and watered-down juice into small cups for the boys. Hawthorne ran excitedly to the three in the kitchenette, and looked into Elain’s brown eyes, “You have snacks?”
Elain smiled down at the boy, smiling down at the little Illyrian. “We do have snacks. But I don’t know if you get to have any.” She said, joy glinting in her eyes at pestering the little boy.
Hawthorne looked stunned at her for a second, as if he couldn’t believe he was being denied something, and quickly turned to me, “Aunt Elain’s being mean!”
We all laughed as the little boy pouted in disbelief, even more so when he saw us all laughing. His foot stomped the ground, his wings flaring a little.
The laughing calmed a little as Rhys, Cass, and Az entered the house. They stood in the doorway watching all of us standing around looking at a little grumpy Illyrian.
The child looked at the three males and ran over to Azriel slamming into his legs. He placed a hand lightly on his back and looked around in question. “They’re being mean to me Azzie!”
At that Rhys let out a laugh, Cassian joining in. My mate looked at me in question, “Is there a reason I have a grumpy child hiding in my legs?”
“He’s just trying to get snacks for our lunch. Which he wouldn’t expect that unless someone kept letting him sneak some.” I told him, lightly glaring in his direction, but sent love down the bond nonetheless.
Azriel picked the boy up, his wings fluttering away as he did. “She’s right, you have to eat your lunch before sweets.” Hawthorne looked at Azriel in shock.
“But you and Uncle Cassin always give snacks like that before dinner!” Everyone turned to look at the two in question, a little glimmer of amusement shining through.
Feyre looked to me with humor all over her face, “Well, now we know why he hardly eats his lunch and dinner now.”
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It was later in the evening; you were trying to give the boy a quick little bath. He was mainly just splashing around. Azriel watched with amusement as you tried to run a cloth over him.
“You could help you know. I mean how did Rhys’ mother give all of you baths.” I say huffing wiping sweaty hair from my face. You were going to need a bath after this.
Azriel had a small smile on his usual blank face, “She usually gave up after the first five minutes. I’m surprised you’ve tried this for as long as you have.”
Having the child around has made him more emotionally viewable. Where he used to only show how he felt, few and far between, now it’s more common. Sitting on your heels you let an exhausted sigh leave.
“You know little thorn in my side,” You say pinching his nose, he laughs in response, “I’m just going to sit over here and when you deem yourself clean let me know.” The dark-haired boy nodded and went back to playing immediately.
You walked over and sat by Az, leaning your head against him. “Who knew raising a little Illyrian was such work.”
Azriel leaned his head down letting out a huff of a laugh. “Imagine more than one in a house.” And you did, just for a second. But it wasn’t Rhys, Cassian, or Azriel you were picturing. It was Hawthorne and a few others. Some that did look like Azriel and one that looked like you. You pictured it long enough that you must have somehow sent what you were thinking down the bond. Because Azriel sent nothing but joy and love back.
“Let’s get this one situated first,” Azriel whispered, arm wrapping around you. You smiled up at him, excitement glistening in your eyes.
By the time you sent Azriel to put the kid to bed, you stayed back to clean up the mess in the bathroom. By the time you got to the boys’ room, you could hear them talking.
“Why don’t I have ears like her?” It was Hawthorne asking the question, and it made you pause in confusion.
“Because she’s what is called High-Fae, and you’re an Illyrian. Like me.” There was shuffling, Azriel must have been tucking him in.
“So… does that mean she can’t be my mom?” It was a quiet question, and silence followed after it.
“What makes you say that little shadow?”
“Well, if I’m like you, and she’s not like us. Then she can’t be my mom, right? Like Nyx. Aunt Feyre and Uncle Rhys both have pointy ears, just like Nyx.”
“You don’t have to look like someone for them to be family. Just like me and your uncles don’t look alike, they’re still my brothers. Just like she can still be your mom. Now, it’s time for you to get to bed.” You smiled, and quickly wiped your face before entering the room.
“What are we still doing up little soldier?” You walked over to him and took Az’s spot on the bed. Hawthrone smiled at you, peeking out from under the covers.
You tucked him in just a little tighter, leaned over and gave him a kiss on the head then brushed his hair from his face.
You sat for a second, looking at your little joy, then whispered goodnight, and just when you went to shut the door you heard it. “Goodnight mama.”
Holding back your tears just a little, you turned back and said, “Goodnight little shadow.” Then shut the door. And turned to Azriel's chest to shed some of the tears.
“Come on,” he whispered, “Let’s get you cleaned up and then to bed.”
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You had picked Hawthrone up from school a few days later when he asked you a question.
“You and Azriel are together, right?” It surprised you; it was an odd question for a six-year-old. “Like… Like Aunty Feyre and Uncle Rhys?”
“Yes. Just like them, me and Azriel are mates. You remember what mates are right?” I said holding his hand as we walked down the sidewalk by the Sidra. You and Azriel had talked to him about a few things before you guys could get him in a school. So, he could know who his family would be, and about some of the world.
He nodded his head, he knew the story of me and Azriel, at least as kid friendly as you could get with Az’s job. I mean you yourself were only a healer at the school before meeting the Inner Circle. Then Madja recruited you to help with what few kids came through her shop. After about three years you were Madja’s right-hand man, thus introducing you to the Inner Circle for all their bumps and bruises. So Hawthrone knew you two were mates, like Feyre and Rhysand, and Nesta and Cassian. Whilst Elain and Lucien’s dynamic still confused him a little.
“So, if you’re my mother, does that make Az my father?” You almost stumbled at the question. Azriel had struggled in the first few weeks of having Hawthrone, he didn’t have good parental figures, so trying to play dad to a kid was a struggle.
With Nyx he had no issue, he could play uncle, be there for a few hours but at the end of the day Nyx went back to his own parents.
“Do you want Azriel to be your father?” I asked a little hesitant, I didn’t want to cause any issue for Az, or Hawthorne. It hadn’t been that long ago that you guys got him out of a bad situation in an Illyrian camp. From his own father.
“I don’t know. I know he likes me now. Before it was… strange,”
“Confusing, you’re looking for the word confusing.”
“Cun-fushion.”
“Well, if you’re really confused then you could ask him. He always tells you that you can tell him anything. The same goes for asking questions. That’s called communicating.” Hawthorne sounded the word out to himself, then sat for a minute in thought. Right as you were about to ask him a question he perked up, wings twitching.
“Oo oo oo can we stop and get sweets!” You’ve got to pick a different path to walk along.
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“We’re home-!”
“We got sweets!!”
“We got sweets! Hawthorne those were supposed to be a surprise.” Setting the box of treats down on the table of the River House you followed the tiny stuttering of feet flying through the house in the direction of the rest of the voices.
You found some of the family in the sitting room and joined Azriel on the arm of his chair. Hawthorne was already telling Elain about his very eventful day at school, using his arms to explain it better.
I leaned over just slightly so Az could hear me, “He was asking some questions on the walk here.”
Azriel turned and looked at me, a look of almost fear in his eyes. Then furrowed his eyebrows in question.
“Nothing serious was just asking if we were together, a few other things I’ll tell you alone.”
“He asked if we were together?” I laughed a little then ran a hand through his hair looking at my boy.
“Yea, I thought the same thing. Asked if it was the same way as Rhys and Feyre.”
“Was it serious? What he asked, which is why you don’t want to tell me here.” There’s that wariness that Azriel always had regarding us.
“Just… something I figured we could talk to him about later, about parentage.” Azriel is all but locked up at that. Hands that had been clasped together moved to hide almost, shadows coming to drape over him a little. One moved to join Hawthorne and wrapping around him. “Just the basics, but it could be time to tell him something though, before we all go to Windhaven.”
Azriel nodded his head, distress flowing down the bond, I sent reassurance back.
By the time dinner was done, the sweets were eaten, and everyone went off to their respective houses. You met Hawthorne and Azriel in his room with some cocoa. Whipp cream and cinnamon on top.
“Wanna know how I got these marks on my hands?” Hawthorne glanced down at Azriel’s hand, then to his face, an indescribable look on his little face. Then he slightly nodded.
“I was born to a lord in a camp. My mother wasn’t with him though, remember how you had called me a bastard when we first met?” Hawthorne nodded guiltily, “It’s okay, that’s what it’s called when your mother and father have a kid without being together. My father’s wife didn’t like it, didn’t like me.” Azriel took a deep breath, and I handed him a cup, so he had something to fidget with.
“They had two other sons, older that didn’t like. Since they didn’t like me, they kept me locked away in… my bedroom,” the safest option rather than a ‘dungeon’ “One day, my brothers decided to test how well we could heal…. By the time my father’s guards got there, it was too late, and the fire did this.”
“Did your father do anything to stop them from being mean to you…?” Hawthorne silently asked Azriel, looking at his hands and then back to his face.
“No. My father was a really bad man. Really mean too. Kept me away from people and from flying, but when they found out I could talk with the shadows, they took me to the camp we’ll go to when you’re older. And I met your Uncle Rhys and Uncle Cassian, and Aunt Mor.” Azriel told him, Hawthorne glanced in my direction now.
“Was my father like yours was?” Hawthorne asked me, Azriel eyes widened a little, I opened my mouth to answer and reassure him but Azriel beat me to hit.
“No! You are nothing like your father. Understood?” Hawthorne nodded, “Just like I’m not my father.”
Hawthorne sat for a second, even more silent than usual when pondering a question.
“Are… are you, my father? Like she’s my Mother?” A silent tear dripped down your mate's face, almost matching the ones building in your own.
“I am nothing like either of our fathers. And whilst I might not be the one who created you, your father, I can be your father. If you’ll allow me to.” Hawthorne’s eyes watered up then flung himself into Azriels’ arms, wings trying to wrap around him. Azriel hugged back and wrapped his own wings around him, as you sat taking in the scene.
He stood from his hugging position and took your hand, and the three of you went just two doors down to your own room. Where the three of you slept, you on the left, Azriel on the right, and just under Azriel’s wing and under your arms was Hawthorne. The little dark-haired, hazel-eyed Illyrian slept soundly, between his two parents.
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Like it, tell me how you feel, share it with your friends. Share it with your grandma. Share it with the weird guy that lives at the end of the street who knows way too much about the K.G.B
Side note if you made it this far please dear god tell me what you would get the IC for solstice/Christmas presents. I have ideas for them all but Rhys. Please it can be on anom or anything 😂
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backtotheshitshow · 1 year
Text
Ghost Clothes Part 1: Girls Locker Room
(Wally Clark x reader)
Part2 Part3 Part4
Summary: Y/n has been stuck in the girls looker room ever since she died. If only someone could bring her some damn clothes.
Warning: short, nudity, mention of death…
Masterlist
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Y/n sat on the floor of the showers crying, almost ten years she’s been stuck in this locker room and not a single other ghost has found her.
She had died when some idiot left their body wash open on the floor of the showers and she slipped on it, hitting her head on the hot water knob of the shower. Ever since she’s been stuck in the locker room, because while she’s never met any of them, Y/n was well aware of the other ghosts in the high school, so the living might not be able to see her naked, but the other ghosts definitely would.
Wally was exercising in the gym, he’d usually prefer the field, but the marching band said they needed a bigger practice space. Wally was doing his usual push-ups when he hearda strange noise. He stood up, listening carefully. It sounded like crying coming from the girls locker room. Curious he followed the noise into the locker room. He entered slowly, wanting be prepared for anything as the crying got louder.
“Hello? Is there anyon.. OH MY GOD!!” As soon as wally saw y/n, he turned to face the other direction, obverting his eyes away from the naked girl. “I am so sorry. I heard crying and just wanted to.. I don’t usually come I here..I swear I didn’t see anything…”
“No no it’s okay.. fuck finally. I need you’re help” y/n pleads with the boy.
Still facing the wall, Wally asks curiously “with what?”
“Please just get me some clothes, I’ve been stuck in here, like this for almost a decade.” Y/n explains.
“Okay” Wally agrees “I’ll be right back” he rushes of to grab the nearest article of clothing he could find.
Moments later wally comes back in, his hand over his eyes, while the other holds his varsity jacket out in front of him. “Here put this on, until we can get to lost property.”
Y/n took the jacket and slipped (poor choice of words) it on, doing up all the buttons to cover herself up. The jacket fell just under her butt cheek and was so very soft and warm. Y/n had almost forgot what clothes felt like.
“You can look now” y/n tells the boy.
Wally turns around to look at his new aquantence “Woah.”He breathes
“What? Is there something wrong?” Y/n panics, checking to make sure nothing was showing.
“No no. You’re just… really pretty.” Wally smiles.
“Oh… thank you. “ the two stare at each other for awhile. Wally soaking in ever aspect of the sight in front of him. The most beautiful girl he’d ever seen in nothing but his jacket.
“Um” Y/n breaks the silence “I think I should head to lost property,”
Wally is ripped out of his daydreams. “Oh yeah sorry, I’ll take you.”
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wonijinjin · 4 months
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my human charger
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author’s note: this is part of the 200 followers event
synopsis: when cheol gets tired he needs his charger to connect with him.
word count: 0.6k | genre: fluff, humour/crack | pairing: cheol x gn! reader | warnings: none
“mingyu i am open! toss it to me!” cheol screamed as mingyu had the basketball in his hands, standing in the corner of the court, trying to dodge his opponent from the other team. “scoups, catch!” the tall man shouted as he threw the red ball in the direction of his teammate, him catching it in his large hand with ease. some of the boys were playing basketball on the court of the park since the weather was nice and they wanted to let off some of the steam that had been building up in many of them with the upcoming new music releases. they loved playing different sports, and you had seen your boyfriend cheol do many of them with the others, but it was your first time actually witnessing the brilliance of his skills in a game of basketball.
now, you were not the best at ball games, especially since you had no sense of direction at all, resulting in you getting hit in the face by the round object many times while the others tried to teach you. this is why you chose to be a spectator most of the time, getting fed up with trying endless times, accepting that you were definitely not made to be an athlete unlike some of the group’s members. “let’s take a break, alright?” hoshi said after scoring yet another point in the game, all of the men looking extra exhausted by running around for such a long time. you watched as cheol jogged down to the side, and went up to him. “you did so well dear!” you claimed while giving him a chaste kiss as a reward for his hard work. “i honestly don’t understand how you manage to hold that big thing in only one hand, you caught it so smoothly!” you wondered, amazed. he stayed silent for a moment, grabbing your hand and lacing it with his, comparing their sizes. “now this is why i can catch it, love.” he giggled “my hand is way bigger than yours.” he continued explaining like it wasn’t obvious; his hands were always huge, you loved how yours fit into his when walking around the city, or how when he cupped your cheeks you could feel more at ease, his long thumb stroking the apple of them lightly before kissing you softly. you laughed at him, grinning. “i love your hands.” he kissed yours, still laced with his fingers. “i know darling.” he chuckled, breaking the bond and starting to fan himself, sweaty from the game. “you are still sweating like crazy even though you are on break. this game is intense, huh?” you joked, seeing how he almost got embarrassed for a minute, but his witty mind was faster. “yes, i am exhausted. i need to recharge my energy.” he stated while spreading his arms to trap you in a hug; it was common for him to cling to you when feeling tired, and this day was not an exception. “seungcheol if you hug me i swear to god i will go home! i’m feeling hot aswell already, don’t need your body heat and sweat!” you whined, trying to run away. “i will cry.” he said causally, and you knew he would actually do it out of spite, however you couldn’t help but giggle. “is that meant to be a threat?” you smirked. “cheol you are not scary, you literally pout like a sulky puppy.” you wheezed, giving in to his embrace anyways, hugging him tightly and staying like that for a while, craving the touch just as much as he did.
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